Fic: Desperate Distraction
Oct. 7th, 2007 05:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
sylph_ficsTitle: Desperate Distraction
Pairing: Dick/Slade
CoWriter:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
merfilly
Pairing: Dick/Slade
Rating: hard R
Word Count: 4,312
Continuity: Immediately post The New Titans 86.
Disclaimer: DC Comics owns, much to our frustration.
Notes: Those panels of that comic are a huge part of the reason that I ship these two men. Now, the canon's kind of old, so for those that have never seen it, or want a quick refresh of just what I'm talking about, thank youkatarik and here you go.
Note 2: Happy (late) Birthday,ladyoneill
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Dick had stood there, staring out over the bay, almost frozen for... he didn't know how long. His muscles had gone stiff, especially through his back where Slade had slammed him into the truck--when had he started thinking of the man by his first name, anyway?--by the time he could think about moving... and when he came back into himself, he shook his head, ashamed of himself. He'd seen just how badly Joe's death had hurt his father in the minute he died, how had he still wound up lashing out at him so viciously? //...because it's easier than blaming yourself for not seeing?//
Slade's behavior through the fight had been...different than that Dick was used to. He had been holding back, as long as he could, accepting the blows instead of deflecting them, instead of ending the battle.
He closed his eyes, wondering why Slade had let him beat at him... and shook his head again at the answer he came to. That it had been as... cathartic... for Slade as it had wound up being for him.... Even if that was right, which he doubted, it didn't mean it had been the right thing to do. New York was a city of millions, the man was likely to be near impossible to find, but... he wanted, needed, to give it a shot.
Past conversations slowly came back to him, full of tiny pieces of information about the possible location of the New York safehouse.
It was more than likely that he'd wind up on the wrong side of another fight if he went... but he'd give it a try. He went ahead and ripped off the rest of the destroyed top of his suit, picked up the jacket he'd stripped in the fight, and slid back into it, zipped it up, pressing back into the leather.
//...At least this time my jacket stayed in one piece...// the thought brought a trace of a smile to his lips, and made him shake his head.
*~*~*~
Slade sat in the chair in his front room, neither TV nor radio on, still in the pants, but having shed most other pieces of Deathstroke's gear. He had a bottle of bourbon at his hand, a half filled tumbler waiting, but he already knew it wasn't going to fix anything. Fighting the kid had flicked him raw again, especially about Addie.
A light, quiet rap of knuckles against the closest window drew his attention away from his own thoughts, and his hand twitched toward his discarded gear, the .45 that was right there... but he turned to look instead of aiming in the blinding flash he could have.
Grayson was perched there--and how he'd gotten to that window was something he was going to have to find out--expression oddly still for the Kid's expressive face.
He sighed, stood up, and walked over, flipping the sash open after killing an alarm on it.
"Kid."
"Slade." Dick glanced at the floorboards, tipping his head slightly. "Mind? I mean, I can perch here for a while..."
"Might as well, since you tracked me down."
Dick slid in, face tightening a little as he twisted to duck under the sash, and settled his feet on the floor, looking up into that dark eye as he took a breath. "I shouldn't have said some of that... and I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize, Kid. You spoke your mind." Slade turned his back on the Titan to go back to his chair, rather than run a hand over that bruise coming up along Dick's jaw.
"A little too much of it... and to someone I knew was hurting too. So yes, there is."
"Fine. Apology accepted, Grayson." Quite deliberately, he picked his bourbon up and took a drink, rather than be hospitable. The Kid drove him crazy, so much potential and so little practicality. It didn't help that Dick appealed to his senses on his own merits, and on the fact that the Kid had been a part of Joe's life.
Dick sighed, looking at the line of Slade's back as he stood there with the drink in his hand. "Does that help any?" It was an honest question, not meant to cut. Bruce didn't drink, not more than at the parties, and had never let him get into the habit, either.
"No. But it tastes better than the water."
"Not much wouldn't, here." He shrugged slightly. He'd already figured that was the answer he'd get, but it didn't hurt to ask--and after what they'd been through, he trusted the answer.
Slade sighed, and turned to look back at the kid. "Why'd you come here, Grayson? You should be getting patched up, not haunting an old man with too many ghosts."
"Mostly to apologize... and I don't feel like dealing with any of the hospitals, or making the trip back down to Gotham this late."
Slade considered that, then headed for the back of the house. "Get out of that jacket, Kid...I'll be right back."
He'd more expected Slade to tell him to get out now that he had apologized than to be told to stay, and it left him standing there for a minute in shock before he unzipped the jacket and pulled it off.
He looked down at the jacket in his hands, asking himself what he was thinking, staying here, now that he'd said what he needed to... but he didn't want to be alone, and it sounded like Slade didn't either. And annoyed as some people would be at him staying with the mercenary to cope with some of his grief... no-one should be alone after burying a child--and Slade had lost two.
Slade returned, his eye roving the young man's bare chest //strictly professional, Wilson!// to see where the kit he held would most be needed. "Might sting."
Dick shrugged a shoulder slightly and walked over to the couch to drop down, twisting to lean against the arm. "Doesn't do any good if it doesn't, as I was always told..."
"You believed it, too." Slade came over and started tending the cuts and abrasions, his fingers possibly lingering longer on the kid's back than he would have liked to admit.
"Seemed tr~ue enough..." his breath had caught, hissing, at the touch of the antiseptic in a deeper cut. "I think it was... supposed to keep me from getting--ow, damn--into so many scrapes... didn't work real well."
"You, not get into scrapes? The sun would rise in the west." Slade let a small smile touch his lips, tilting Dick's head to the side to daub at one cut near the eyebrow.
"Pretty much, yeah." Dick let himself smile back, just a little, even as he managed not to wince away from the sting.
"Why do you do it, Kid? What makes you climb out of bed, put on that costume, and get yourself hurt for people who could care less?"
"...I don't know how not to, I guess... been doing this since I was what, ten? And... with everything I know, everything I can do, how can I not try to help?"
"You'd make a killing, all puns intended, if you were a little more open on your options," Slade said, half-teasing.
Dick's jaw went tight, hard, and he shook his head away from the touch, pulling in on himself slightly. "No. I... that'd feel too much like betraying my parents, when they died because of goddamn mafia greed." He looked up, eyes startled at himself. "Why did I tell you that?"
"Because you want me to understand what I already knew?" Now Slade's fingers did trail down, touching the bruise on the jaw gently.
"Maybe... of course you know. You probably know as much about that by now as I do--too thorough not to..." He hissed a little at the touch to the bruise and looked up, a little amusement in his eyes. "That was a nice shot, by the way."
"Could have put you out of the fight right then," Slade admitted. He then dropped down on the couch, through being a field nurse, but not chasing the Titan out.
"Yeah, probably..." Dick turned, putting the lower part of his back against the arm of the couch--less bruised, down that low, and it let him watch Slade more easily. "And they'd have had to wire my jaw back together, more likely than not."
"It would shut you up for a day or two," Slade said, gently teasing as he forced himself not to dwell on... //Joe, my boy...Addie's son, so gentle, so talented.// He looked away, and realized his bourbon was well out of reach, over on the other table.
Dick shook his head, "Not really... I c--" what he was going to say cut off as he remembered just why he'd learned to sign, and he looked away.
"So can I, Kid...so can I." Slade sat forward, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair as he leaned into them. "Damn, Kid...it should NEVER have been him!"
Dick leaned over, stretching enough to lay his hand on Slade's shoulder, turned towards him. "No, it shouldn't've... He was too damn good for us to lose him like that, to that kind of... And god, what use are we if we can't even save our own? I mean... Charlie, Vic, Joe..." //You only barely saved Garth...//
Slade slowly nodded. "When you only fail the ones you care about, why should you even care at all?"
Dick had to think about that one, about the sheer weight of grief and pain in Slade's voice, in his own heart for long, long moments, before he came up with anything like an answer, and it was uncertain as he said it, "Because not caring, is as good as giving up, and they'd be furious with you if you did?"
Slade listened to those words, turned to look at the Kid, before reaching out to run his hand into the tousled black hair gently. "Joe certainly would be, if you gave up, Kid."
Dick let himself lean into the touch, closing his eyes against what those words brought, and kept from saying, //I'd take him being mad at me for the rest of my life, if we could just have him back...//
Slade watched the Kid close his blue eyes, saw the vulnerability etched in all those graceful lines, and felt the same surge of desire he had been fighting for the past year. It wasn't right, especially now, but he ached for even a few minutes of forgetting life with this near-perfect warrior.
Dick was just pressed into the touch, trying to get his composure back before he could say anything stupid again, and only slowly opened them, taking a slow, deep breath.
"Kid...you are too damn pretty," Slade breathed, leaning toward him to just gently brush his lips over Dick's forehead, before he tried, one last time, to shoo the Kid out. "Get out of here before I get stupid, would ya?"
Dick blinked in shock, frozen for a moment by just how... surreal both the fact that Slade had just kissed him, no matter how gently, and the low request were. While part of him said //listen to the man!//, most of his attention was caught by just how easy it felt to be in his hold, and the thought that Slade (older, powerful, dangerous...) wanted him... It flooded through his body like an adrenaline surge, wiping out part of the grief in the wake of the slow-kindling need.
Slade stiffened, smelling the change on the kid's skin the moment it happened, hearing that heart hammer a little faster. Knowing the Kid was intrigued by him only caused that aching pull to worsen, and he wrapped his hand behind Dick's head to pull him closer.
Dick slid with that pull, letting Slade bring him in. His good sense was screaming at him that this was a stupid idea, but... more of him said this would stop the grief and pain that kept surging through him, for both of them... and it wasn't as though it would ever go past these walls. He needed to not be alone... both of them did, and his team was scattered, trying to heal.
Slade shifted, back, pulling Dick up along his body before he claimed that tempting mouth with his, tasting him. He knew good and well this was not the answer, that the Kid might damn well regret it come morning, but he needed it, needed to feel alive, and be actually able to affect another human being with something other than pain. Losing himself in this... sounded better than the alternative he could name.
Dick gasped as Slade dragged him in against the broad, solid muscle of his chest, purring low in his throat at the feel of that much skin... and opened his mouth against that demanding kiss, sliding his hands to curve around the back of Slade's shoulders, pressing the insides of his wrists and forearms in against him, shuddering against the way it felt.
By the end of that first, hungry kiss, one of Slade's legs was stretched out on the couch, the other foot resting on the floor, and Grayson held in a full body press above him. His own growing desire was evident through the constricting pants, but that restraint was welcomed, for now, served to keep him in check and actually work the kid up.
Dick pressed in against his body, squirming to get closer to all that smooth, scar-marred muscle, hands trapped under Slade's weight, holding onto the solid ridges of his shoulder-blades as he gasped for air, then dipped back in for another kiss.
Slade rested one hand along Dick's hip, the other remaining tangled in the Kid's hair. With the hand curved around that hip and his own body, he moved them so that they were more directly stimulating each other through their pants. A low growl rumbled in his chest at the shock of pleasure and need the Kid was bringing him, and he pulled him closer.
Dick shivered at the way Slade just moved him, losing himself in the kiss at how feeling that hard pressure against him slammed through his body, and gasped at the growl he could feel against his skin more than hear.
The hand in his hair slid down, bringing a controlling weight to the back of Dick's neck, before Slade started moving up, sliding his groin along Dick's, holding him down against him.
"Move for us, Kid." Slade's voice was half an octave deeper, resonating with desire.
Between the strong, sure pressure of the hands on him and the low, rough voice telling (ordering) him, Dick was half-lost already, and bucked against Slade's body, bracing against the couch with a knee, weight on it as he picked up that pace and went with it, barely managing to choke off the whimper building in his throat against Slade's shoulder.
"No...don't hold back," Slade growled. "Let me hear your voice now. Let me know what it feels like."
Dick did whimper at that low, rough growl, and moved against him again, pressing (clinging) close as he could, burying his mouth against Slade's shoulder again, forehead tucked in against his throat. "God... good... but so over-dressed..."
"Yeah?" Slade reached between them, taking his time to undo Dick's pants, slow and more than half teasing. "Fix it then."
Dick pulled his hands out from under Slade's back with a twist of his shoulders, shifted back enough to strip off both boots, then twisted onto his side to strip the pants off, dropping them down beside the couch... then went after Slade's, hands sliding to find the catches, mouth going back to his shoulder.
Slade let a low rumble reward the Kid, hands moving with Dick's to help him. "Y'strip down as pretty as I thought, Kid."
Dick hissed insultedly, pulling his head up from where he'd been sucking on Slade's shoulder, "Pretty?" but his hands never stilled in working the pants off. Once he'd mostly been able to ignore, but twice?
"Kid... with those eyelashes, those cheekbones...those hips...you're pretty, and I know a sheik or tribal king or three who'd pay to have you." Slade took the Kid's lips with his own again, hard and sure, reminding Dick of just what that 'pretty' was getting him.
Dick hissed again, low in his throat, but let himself press into the kiss, deciding being insulted wasn't worth the effort, when Slade's hands and mouth were on him so perfectly...
They got Slade's pants free without ever pulling apart too much, before Slade brought them both back together, this time letting smooth, hard flesh connect directly. Slade groaned and surged against Dick, hands holding the Kid tight as he did.
Dick bit down on his lip at the way Slade bucked up against him, and pushed into his hold, and down against his body, teeth sinking light into Slade's shoulder at the way it felt to be held like that, to be this close to him...
"That's it, Kid..." Slade praised him, even as both hands curved around that perfect ass, holding his new lover closer as he told his mind to take a flying leap with logic and consequences, for now. This... this was just about desire, and he'd wanted this gorgeous young man longer than was possibly sane.
Dick whimpered softly as Slade's hands settled around his ass and bucked again, feeling every bit of the long, hard cock pressed against his, against his abs when he moved, and just shuddered again, throat practically bone dry with the need and hunger.
Slade knew just what he wanted, had wanted, but he could bet Grayson did too, and he wanted to hear the Kid actually say it. "Tell me what you want, Kid...I'm feeling real generous with you rubbing into me like that." A long finger lightly traced the divide of Dick's ass, teasing in its path.
Dick shuddered, hips pressing back, spine stretching to let him follow that electric, teasing touch, rocked more by the way Slade's low, rough voice slid straight through his defenses, and latched itself into what he needed, and he whimpered softly, mouth still latched onto Slade's shoulder.
Slade let a rumbling purr escape him at that reaction, before reaching back beyond the couch arm, into the drawer of the side table. His quest brought back a bottle of massage oil...not the best, but adequate.
Dick watched him move, eyes a little startled at the result--and more, at the casual way Slade approached this... but he wasn't going to complain.
The older man shifted enough to be comfortable, his fingers well oiled. He was holding himself in check by force of will, letting the touching keep the fires blazing but banked. As he let his fingers explore this time, one settled against Dick's tightness, pushing just slow enough to be gentle.
Dick bit at his lip instead of Slade's shoulder this time, head dropping down against his throat, breath shuddering at the feel of Slade slowly pressing that finger inside him, blunt, strong pressure and... his breath caught in his throat again as his hands locked around Slade's shoulders.
"Easy, Kid...Don't fight it...." Memories of long ago crowded in, young soldier, more experienced one...he brushed those away and focused on here/now to keep loosening Dick. One finger shifting to be replaced by two just as he slid harder against Dick's cock.
"I... I'm not... oh. Oh, god... b-been a w-while, is all... and..." Dick panted, pressing back into that slow, steady push, and tried to keep breathing, maybe talking...
"Hmmm." At that, Slade pulled his hand fully away and moved, settling Dick below him securely, braced up on his other arm. A moment later, those two fingers were back, opening, twisting. It flashed through his mind, briefly that he hoped it wasn't Joe, that this wasn't just reaching out to the man his son favored. His rational mind told him it was far more likely the archer, from old news stories showing them so close.
Dick had had just enough time to wail unhappily at Slade pulling his hand away, then he was down, pinned against the couch, all of Slade's weight up over him and on him and his touch deep inside again, god, yes...
Slade braced on one arm, hips held back just a little as he pressed his fingers deep enough to caress that one sensitive spot, to try and make Dick make that sound again, but with pleasure.
He whimpered, pushing up against his body, sliding his hands up Slade's arms to lock around his back again, down lower against his ribs, curled in against his spine as Slade's fingers slid inside him--then he cried out again, just as loud and shocked, as pleasure slammed white and hot from his spine up through his throat and down through him.
"Yeah, Kid, just like that...." Slade eased his fingers out, got more of the oil on them, slicking himself up. He was pressing close before it could fully register on Dick's pleasure-clouded mind.
Dick gasped, dropping one foot (and knee) off the couch, head falling back against the cushion as Slade pressed that close, draped over him like that, looking up at nothing but the solid lines of Slade's strong body, when he could open his eyes...
Feeling the kid so open to him, watching him splay like that, inviting...Slade could not help himself as he leaned in and took that mouth, just to taste Dick's cry as he pushed through the resistance carefully.
Dick did cry out into that hard kiss, Slade's slick, hard length thicker than he was used to, but it didn't hurt, just... His nails raked down Slade's back as his body arched at the feel, back on his head and his hips and leg the only things against the couch.
"So damn beautiful like that, Kid... all lines and curves, hard and hungry," Slade growled softly. He wrapped his free hand around Dick's length, supporting arm corded as he moved as deep as he could this first time.
"take that... over pretty..." Dick managed to gasp out, before he shuddered at the push, the long, slow slide of Slade's length deep inside him. He shifted the knee and ankle trapped against the couch, testing. He didn't have much give, as Slade was leaning hard on that arm, pressure more on that side of his body. Those stronger hips flexed back, pulling almost free, before sliding back in, matching the stroke along Dick's cock.
"O~o~Oh..." Dick mewled, low in his throat, as he shifted, dragging that ankle up along Slade's calf, trying to shift his knee fully out against the back of the couch...
Slade shifted, deep inside at that point, so Dick could prove his flexibility a little more, smile briefly touching his lips. "You love to move, Kid...so move with me."
"T-thought I was..." Dick got out, and pulled that knee up against Slade's ribs to lock his heel in at the small of Slade's back, hands still clinging to his arms.
Slade let out a small chuckle, even as his hips flexed again, quicker, deeper on the return, feeling Dick's body open to him with each stroke. A careful move, and the next stroke was hitting that sweet spot deep in the Kid's body... and Dick cried out again, leg braced against the floor snapping up, in, wrapping higher around Slade's body as his hands flexed hard on his arms.
"Ride it out," Slade growled, hand wrapped on Dick starting to move quicker, rougher almost, as the rhythm kept pace
"Slade?" low, shaking question as he bucked up against him, clinging tighter to his upper arms.
"Hold on...until I say to let go," Slade challenged him.
Dick bucked harder into his hand, heart slamming up into his throat at how that low challenge shot through his body and deep into his needs, eyes going wider as he tried to remember how to breathe.
Slade made another low growling noise, but pushed the pace, knowing he would not hold it out much longer. Not when the Kid was so open, smelled so fully aroused, needed what he was doing. His mouth found Dick's shoulder now, biting and sucking a dark mark into the skin there as he bucked into the Kid again and again.
He whimpered at the bite but rolled his shoulder up into it, feeling his cock jumping in Slade's grip, and tried not to whimper too loudly at every hard, solid thrust... He made himself take a long, steady breath, focusing to get enough control not to (disappoint his lover) lose that challenge.
Slade grunted as he felt the Kid fighting for control, felt him try to meet Slade where Slade wanted him. His lips came up to Dick's ear, tongue flicking out briefly before he said one little word, just as he sank fully in. "Now."
He shuddered at the shift of Slade's weight, then bucked up hard against his body, crying out as every hold he'd had on the desperate need shattered with that simple word and that hard, sure slide.
Slade flexed two more thrusts as the Kid broke, before he growled his own pleasure, Hand shifting from cock to hip and pulling tight as he came hard.
Dick was just wrapped around him, utterly pliant to Slade pulling him up against him tighter as he struggled to remember how to breathe in the aftermath of that kind of pleasure.
Slade's bracing arm bent, and then the big man was just resting against Dick, lost in the pleasure, unthinking of the tragedy that had brought them to this point, even if it was a few moments.
Pairing: Dick/Slade
CoWriter:
merfillyPairing: Dick/Slade
Rating: hard R
Word Count: 4,312
Continuity: Immediately post The New Titans 86.
Disclaimer: DC Comics owns, much to our frustration.
Notes: Those panels of that comic are a huge part of the reason that I ship these two men. Now, the canon's kind of old, so for those that have never seen it, or want a quick refresh of just what I'm talking about, thank you
katarik and here you go. Note 2: Happy (late) Birthday,
ladyoneill
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Dick had stood there, staring out over the bay, almost frozen for... he didn't know how long. His muscles had gone stiff, especially through his back where Slade had slammed him into the truck--when had he started thinking of the man by his first name, anyway?--by the time he could think about moving... and when he came back into himself, he shook his head, ashamed of himself. He'd seen just how badly Joe's death had hurt his father in the minute he died, how had he still wound up lashing out at him so viciously? //...because it's easier than blaming yourself for not seeing?//
Slade's behavior through the fight had been...different than that Dick was used to. He had been holding back, as long as he could, accepting the blows instead of deflecting them, instead of ending the battle.
He closed his eyes, wondering why Slade had let him beat at him... and shook his head again at the answer he came to. That it had been as... cathartic... for Slade as it had wound up being for him.... Even if that was right, which he doubted, it didn't mean it had been the right thing to do. New York was a city of millions, the man was likely to be near impossible to find, but... he wanted, needed, to give it a shot.
Past conversations slowly came back to him, full of tiny pieces of information about the possible location of the New York safehouse.
It was more than likely that he'd wind up on the wrong side of another fight if he went... but he'd give it a try. He went ahead and ripped off the rest of the destroyed top of his suit, picked up the jacket he'd stripped in the fight, and slid back into it, zipped it up, pressing back into the leather.
//...At least this time my jacket stayed in one piece...// the thought brought a trace of a smile to his lips, and made him shake his head.
*~*~*~
Slade sat in the chair in his front room, neither TV nor radio on, still in the pants, but having shed most other pieces of Deathstroke's gear. He had a bottle of bourbon at his hand, a half filled tumbler waiting, but he already knew it wasn't going to fix anything. Fighting the kid had flicked him raw again, especially about Addie.
A light, quiet rap of knuckles against the closest window drew his attention away from his own thoughts, and his hand twitched toward his discarded gear, the .45 that was right there... but he turned to look instead of aiming in the blinding flash he could have.
Grayson was perched there--and how he'd gotten to that window was something he was going to have to find out--expression oddly still for the Kid's expressive face.
He sighed, stood up, and walked over, flipping the sash open after killing an alarm on it.
"Kid."
"Slade." Dick glanced at the floorboards, tipping his head slightly. "Mind? I mean, I can perch here for a while..."
"Might as well, since you tracked me down."
Dick slid in, face tightening a little as he twisted to duck under the sash, and settled his feet on the floor, looking up into that dark eye as he took a breath. "I shouldn't have said some of that... and I'm sorry."
"No need to apologize, Kid. You spoke your mind." Slade turned his back on the Titan to go back to his chair, rather than run a hand over that bruise coming up along Dick's jaw.
"A little too much of it... and to someone I knew was hurting too. So yes, there is."
"Fine. Apology accepted, Grayson." Quite deliberately, he picked his bourbon up and took a drink, rather than be hospitable. The Kid drove him crazy, so much potential and so little practicality. It didn't help that Dick appealed to his senses on his own merits, and on the fact that the Kid had been a part of Joe's life.
Dick sighed, looking at the line of Slade's back as he stood there with the drink in his hand. "Does that help any?" It was an honest question, not meant to cut. Bruce didn't drink, not more than at the parties, and had never let him get into the habit, either.
"No. But it tastes better than the water."
"Not much wouldn't, here." He shrugged slightly. He'd already figured that was the answer he'd get, but it didn't hurt to ask--and after what they'd been through, he trusted the answer.
Slade sighed, and turned to look back at the kid. "Why'd you come here, Grayson? You should be getting patched up, not haunting an old man with too many ghosts."
"Mostly to apologize... and I don't feel like dealing with any of the hospitals, or making the trip back down to Gotham this late."
Slade considered that, then headed for the back of the house. "Get out of that jacket, Kid...I'll be right back."
He'd more expected Slade to tell him to get out now that he had apologized than to be told to stay, and it left him standing there for a minute in shock before he unzipped the jacket and pulled it off.
He looked down at the jacket in his hands, asking himself what he was thinking, staying here, now that he'd said what he needed to... but he didn't want to be alone, and it sounded like Slade didn't either. And annoyed as some people would be at him staying with the mercenary to cope with some of his grief... no-one should be alone after burying a child--and Slade had lost two.
Slade returned, his eye roving the young man's bare chest //strictly professional, Wilson!// to see where the kit he held would most be needed. "Might sting."
Dick shrugged a shoulder slightly and walked over to the couch to drop down, twisting to lean against the arm. "Doesn't do any good if it doesn't, as I was always told..."
"You believed it, too." Slade came over and started tending the cuts and abrasions, his fingers possibly lingering longer on the kid's back than he would have liked to admit.
"Seemed tr~ue enough..." his breath had caught, hissing, at the touch of the antiseptic in a deeper cut. "I think it was... supposed to keep me from getting--ow, damn--into so many scrapes... didn't work real well."
"You, not get into scrapes? The sun would rise in the west." Slade let a small smile touch his lips, tilting Dick's head to the side to daub at one cut near the eyebrow.
"Pretty much, yeah." Dick let himself smile back, just a little, even as he managed not to wince away from the sting.
"Why do you do it, Kid? What makes you climb out of bed, put on that costume, and get yourself hurt for people who could care less?"
"...I don't know how not to, I guess... been doing this since I was what, ten? And... with everything I know, everything I can do, how can I not try to help?"
"You'd make a killing, all puns intended, if you were a little more open on your options," Slade said, half-teasing.
Dick's jaw went tight, hard, and he shook his head away from the touch, pulling in on himself slightly. "No. I... that'd feel too much like betraying my parents, when they died because of goddamn mafia greed." He looked up, eyes startled at himself. "Why did I tell you that?"
"Because you want me to understand what I already knew?" Now Slade's fingers did trail down, touching the bruise on the jaw gently.
"Maybe... of course you know. You probably know as much about that by now as I do--too thorough not to..." He hissed a little at the touch to the bruise and looked up, a little amusement in his eyes. "That was a nice shot, by the way."
"Could have put you out of the fight right then," Slade admitted. He then dropped down on the couch, through being a field nurse, but not chasing the Titan out.
"Yeah, probably..." Dick turned, putting the lower part of his back against the arm of the couch--less bruised, down that low, and it let him watch Slade more easily. "And they'd have had to wire my jaw back together, more likely than not."
"It would shut you up for a day or two," Slade said, gently teasing as he forced himself not to dwell on... //Joe, my boy...Addie's son, so gentle, so talented.// He looked away, and realized his bourbon was well out of reach, over on the other table.
Dick shook his head, "Not really... I c--" what he was going to say cut off as he remembered just why he'd learned to sign, and he looked away.
"So can I, Kid...so can I." Slade sat forward, elbows on his knees, hands in his hair as he leaned into them. "Damn, Kid...it should NEVER have been him!"
Dick leaned over, stretching enough to lay his hand on Slade's shoulder, turned towards him. "No, it shouldn't've... He was too damn good for us to lose him like that, to that kind of... And god, what use are we if we can't even save our own? I mean... Charlie, Vic, Joe..." //You only barely saved Garth...//
Slade slowly nodded. "When you only fail the ones you care about, why should you even care at all?"
Dick had to think about that one, about the sheer weight of grief and pain in Slade's voice, in his own heart for long, long moments, before he came up with anything like an answer, and it was uncertain as he said it, "Because not caring, is as good as giving up, and they'd be furious with you if you did?"
Slade listened to those words, turned to look at the Kid, before reaching out to run his hand into the tousled black hair gently. "Joe certainly would be, if you gave up, Kid."
Dick let himself lean into the touch, closing his eyes against what those words brought, and kept from saying, //I'd take him being mad at me for the rest of my life, if we could just have him back...//
Slade watched the Kid close his blue eyes, saw the vulnerability etched in all those graceful lines, and felt the same surge of desire he had been fighting for the past year. It wasn't right, especially now, but he ached for even a few minutes of forgetting life with this near-perfect warrior.
Dick was just pressed into the touch, trying to get his composure back before he could say anything stupid again, and only slowly opened them, taking a slow, deep breath.
"Kid...you are too damn pretty," Slade breathed, leaning toward him to just gently brush his lips over Dick's forehead, before he tried, one last time, to shoo the Kid out. "Get out of here before I get stupid, would ya?"
Dick blinked in shock, frozen for a moment by just how... surreal both the fact that Slade had just kissed him, no matter how gently, and the low request were. While part of him said //listen to the man!//, most of his attention was caught by just how easy it felt to be in his hold, and the thought that Slade (older, powerful, dangerous...) wanted him... It flooded through his body like an adrenaline surge, wiping out part of the grief in the wake of the slow-kindling need.
Slade stiffened, smelling the change on the kid's skin the moment it happened, hearing that heart hammer a little faster. Knowing the Kid was intrigued by him only caused that aching pull to worsen, and he wrapped his hand behind Dick's head to pull him closer.
Dick slid with that pull, letting Slade bring him in. His good sense was screaming at him that this was a stupid idea, but... more of him said this would stop the grief and pain that kept surging through him, for both of them... and it wasn't as though it would ever go past these walls. He needed to not be alone... both of them did, and his team was scattered, trying to heal.
Slade shifted, back, pulling Dick up along his body before he claimed that tempting mouth with his, tasting him. He knew good and well this was not the answer, that the Kid might damn well regret it come morning, but he needed it, needed to feel alive, and be actually able to affect another human being with something other than pain. Losing himself in this... sounded better than the alternative he could name.
Dick gasped as Slade dragged him in against the broad, solid muscle of his chest, purring low in his throat at the feel of that much skin... and opened his mouth against that demanding kiss, sliding his hands to curve around the back of Slade's shoulders, pressing the insides of his wrists and forearms in against him, shuddering against the way it felt.
By the end of that first, hungry kiss, one of Slade's legs was stretched out on the couch, the other foot resting on the floor, and Grayson held in a full body press above him. His own growing desire was evident through the constricting pants, but that restraint was welcomed, for now, served to keep him in check and actually work the kid up.
Dick pressed in against his body, squirming to get closer to all that smooth, scar-marred muscle, hands trapped under Slade's weight, holding onto the solid ridges of his shoulder-blades as he gasped for air, then dipped back in for another kiss.
Slade rested one hand along Dick's hip, the other remaining tangled in the Kid's hair. With the hand curved around that hip and his own body, he moved them so that they were more directly stimulating each other through their pants. A low growl rumbled in his chest at the shock of pleasure and need the Kid was bringing him, and he pulled him closer.
Dick shivered at the way Slade just moved him, losing himself in the kiss at how feeling that hard pressure against him slammed through his body, and gasped at the growl he could feel against his skin more than hear.
The hand in his hair slid down, bringing a controlling weight to the back of Dick's neck, before Slade started moving up, sliding his groin along Dick's, holding him down against him.
"Move for us, Kid." Slade's voice was half an octave deeper, resonating with desire.
Between the strong, sure pressure of the hands on him and the low, rough voice telling (ordering) him, Dick was half-lost already, and bucked against Slade's body, bracing against the couch with a knee, weight on it as he picked up that pace and went with it, barely managing to choke off the whimper building in his throat against Slade's shoulder.
"No...don't hold back," Slade growled. "Let me hear your voice now. Let me know what it feels like."
Dick did whimper at that low, rough growl, and moved against him again, pressing (clinging) close as he could, burying his mouth against Slade's shoulder again, forehead tucked in against his throat. "God... good... but so over-dressed..."
"Yeah?" Slade reached between them, taking his time to undo Dick's pants, slow and more than half teasing. "Fix it then."
Dick pulled his hands out from under Slade's back with a twist of his shoulders, shifted back enough to strip off both boots, then twisted onto his side to strip the pants off, dropping them down beside the couch... then went after Slade's, hands sliding to find the catches, mouth going back to his shoulder.
Slade let a low rumble reward the Kid, hands moving with Dick's to help him. "Y'strip down as pretty as I thought, Kid."
Dick hissed insultedly, pulling his head up from where he'd been sucking on Slade's shoulder, "Pretty?" but his hands never stilled in working the pants off. Once he'd mostly been able to ignore, but twice?
"Kid... with those eyelashes, those cheekbones...those hips...you're pretty, and I know a sheik or tribal king or three who'd pay to have you." Slade took the Kid's lips with his own again, hard and sure, reminding Dick of just what that 'pretty' was getting him.
Dick hissed again, low in his throat, but let himself press into the kiss, deciding being insulted wasn't worth the effort, when Slade's hands and mouth were on him so perfectly...
They got Slade's pants free without ever pulling apart too much, before Slade brought them both back together, this time letting smooth, hard flesh connect directly. Slade groaned and surged against Dick, hands holding the Kid tight as he did.
Dick bit down on his lip at the way Slade bucked up against him, and pushed into his hold, and down against his body, teeth sinking light into Slade's shoulder at the way it felt to be held like that, to be this close to him...
"That's it, Kid..." Slade praised him, even as both hands curved around that perfect ass, holding his new lover closer as he told his mind to take a flying leap with logic and consequences, for now. This... this was just about desire, and he'd wanted this gorgeous young man longer than was possibly sane.
Dick whimpered softly as Slade's hands settled around his ass and bucked again, feeling every bit of the long, hard cock pressed against his, against his abs when he moved, and just shuddered again, throat practically bone dry with the need and hunger.
Slade knew just what he wanted, had wanted, but he could bet Grayson did too, and he wanted to hear the Kid actually say it. "Tell me what you want, Kid...I'm feeling real generous with you rubbing into me like that." A long finger lightly traced the divide of Dick's ass, teasing in its path.
Dick shuddered, hips pressing back, spine stretching to let him follow that electric, teasing touch, rocked more by the way Slade's low, rough voice slid straight through his defenses, and latched itself into what he needed, and he whimpered softly, mouth still latched onto Slade's shoulder.
Slade let a rumbling purr escape him at that reaction, before reaching back beyond the couch arm, into the drawer of the side table. His quest brought back a bottle of massage oil...not the best, but adequate.
Dick watched him move, eyes a little startled at the result--and more, at the casual way Slade approached this... but he wasn't going to complain.
The older man shifted enough to be comfortable, his fingers well oiled. He was holding himself in check by force of will, letting the touching keep the fires blazing but banked. As he let his fingers explore this time, one settled against Dick's tightness, pushing just slow enough to be gentle.
Dick bit at his lip instead of Slade's shoulder this time, head dropping down against his throat, breath shuddering at the feel of Slade slowly pressing that finger inside him, blunt, strong pressure and... his breath caught in his throat again as his hands locked around Slade's shoulders.
"Easy, Kid...Don't fight it...." Memories of long ago crowded in, young soldier, more experienced one...he brushed those away and focused on here/now to keep loosening Dick. One finger shifting to be replaced by two just as he slid harder against Dick's cock.
"I... I'm not... oh. Oh, god... b-been a w-while, is all... and..." Dick panted, pressing back into that slow, steady push, and tried to keep breathing, maybe talking...
"Hmmm." At that, Slade pulled his hand fully away and moved, settling Dick below him securely, braced up on his other arm. A moment later, those two fingers were back, opening, twisting. It flashed through his mind, briefly that he hoped it wasn't Joe, that this wasn't just reaching out to the man his son favored. His rational mind told him it was far more likely the archer, from old news stories showing them so close.
Dick had had just enough time to wail unhappily at Slade pulling his hand away, then he was down, pinned against the couch, all of Slade's weight up over him and on him and his touch deep inside again, god, yes...
Slade braced on one arm, hips held back just a little as he pressed his fingers deep enough to caress that one sensitive spot, to try and make Dick make that sound again, but with pleasure.
He whimpered, pushing up against his body, sliding his hands up Slade's arms to lock around his back again, down lower against his ribs, curled in against his spine as Slade's fingers slid inside him--then he cried out again, just as loud and shocked, as pleasure slammed white and hot from his spine up through his throat and down through him.
"Yeah, Kid, just like that...." Slade eased his fingers out, got more of the oil on them, slicking himself up. He was pressing close before it could fully register on Dick's pleasure-clouded mind.
Dick gasped, dropping one foot (and knee) off the couch, head falling back against the cushion as Slade pressed that close, draped over him like that, looking up at nothing but the solid lines of Slade's strong body, when he could open his eyes...
Feeling the kid so open to him, watching him splay like that, inviting...Slade could not help himself as he leaned in and took that mouth, just to taste Dick's cry as he pushed through the resistance carefully.
Dick did cry out into that hard kiss, Slade's slick, hard length thicker than he was used to, but it didn't hurt, just... His nails raked down Slade's back as his body arched at the feel, back on his head and his hips and leg the only things against the couch.
"So damn beautiful like that, Kid... all lines and curves, hard and hungry," Slade growled softly. He wrapped his free hand around Dick's length, supporting arm corded as he moved as deep as he could this first time.
"take that... over pretty..." Dick managed to gasp out, before he shuddered at the push, the long, slow slide of Slade's length deep inside him. He shifted the knee and ankle trapped against the couch, testing. He didn't have much give, as Slade was leaning hard on that arm, pressure more on that side of his body. Those stronger hips flexed back, pulling almost free, before sliding back in, matching the stroke along Dick's cock.
"O~o~Oh..." Dick mewled, low in his throat, as he shifted, dragging that ankle up along Slade's calf, trying to shift his knee fully out against the back of the couch...
Slade shifted, deep inside at that point, so Dick could prove his flexibility a little more, smile briefly touching his lips. "You love to move, Kid...so move with me."
"T-thought I was..." Dick got out, and pulled that knee up against Slade's ribs to lock his heel in at the small of Slade's back, hands still clinging to his arms.
Slade let out a small chuckle, even as his hips flexed again, quicker, deeper on the return, feeling Dick's body open to him with each stroke. A careful move, and the next stroke was hitting that sweet spot deep in the Kid's body... and Dick cried out again, leg braced against the floor snapping up, in, wrapping higher around Slade's body as his hands flexed hard on his arms.
"Ride it out," Slade growled, hand wrapped on Dick starting to move quicker, rougher almost, as the rhythm kept pace
"Slade?" low, shaking question as he bucked up against him, clinging tighter to his upper arms.
"Hold on...until I say to let go," Slade challenged him.
Dick bucked harder into his hand, heart slamming up into his throat at how that low challenge shot through his body and deep into his needs, eyes going wider as he tried to remember how to breathe.
Slade made another low growling noise, but pushed the pace, knowing he would not hold it out much longer. Not when the Kid was so open, smelled so fully aroused, needed what he was doing. His mouth found Dick's shoulder now, biting and sucking a dark mark into the skin there as he bucked into the Kid again and again.
He whimpered at the bite but rolled his shoulder up into it, feeling his cock jumping in Slade's grip, and tried not to whimper too loudly at every hard, solid thrust... He made himself take a long, steady breath, focusing to get enough control not to (disappoint his lover) lose that challenge.
Slade grunted as he felt the Kid fighting for control, felt him try to meet Slade where Slade wanted him. His lips came up to Dick's ear, tongue flicking out briefly before he said one little word, just as he sank fully in. "Now."
He shuddered at the shift of Slade's weight, then bucked up hard against his body, crying out as every hold he'd had on the desperate need shattered with that simple word and that hard, sure slide.
Slade flexed two more thrusts as the Kid broke, before he growled his own pleasure, Hand shifting from cock to hip and pulling tight as he came hard.
Dick was just wrapped around him, utterly pliant to Slade pulling him up against him tighter as he struggled to remember how to breathe in the aftermath of that kind of pleasure.
Slade's bracing arm bent, and then the big man was just resting against Dick, lost in the pleasure, unthinking of the tragedy that had brought them to this point, even if it was a few moments.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-10-07 11:06 pm (UTC)Loved it, as usual, but was intrigued by the suggestion of consent versus willingness? Was that the intent or was Dick swept away by grief/comfort offered as sex?
*I over analyse way too much*
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Date: 2007-10-07 11:09 pm (UTC)Thank you. For the analysis...I am afraid I cannot adequately answer. I know Slade was very caught up in the now and being prime alpha male...
We ENJOY these kind of questions though!
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Date: 2007-10-07 11:14 pm (UTC)Mmmm... I'm not sure. Dick was more than willing... as to consent? Your guess is as good as mine what was going on in Dick's head. Want/need/needed/desire... Oh, Dick baby, you are so complicated.
And I'm not sure that any of my favorite Slade/Dick stories don't have that issue of consent vs. choice... glad to know it came in here, too!!! Thanks!! *Beams*
No, no, we LIKE this!!
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Date: 2007-10-07 11:24 pm (UTC)Gods but that was hot! desperate distraction indeed. Lords. So painful but so hot.
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Date: 2007-10-07 11:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-07 11:56 pm (UTC)Was a good change of pace to write Slade in my second favorite slash pairing for him.
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Date: 2007-10-08 12:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 02:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 02:36 am (UTC)And yeah, it's hard not to feel bad for them when they were both so devastated by losing him... and yes, they did manage to find a little peace... at least for a few minutes.
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Date: 2007-10-08 12:43 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 02:33 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 02:37 am (UTC)I'm so glad you think we pulled them both off well. *chatters at you in IM merrily*
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Date: 2007-10-08 12:57 am (UTC)I think my favorite part may be when they both realize they know sign language, and why. They're both just a little broken here, which is lovely.
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Date: 2007-10-08 02:35 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 02:39 am (UTC)That... wasn't supposed to be there, but suddenly it was and they both hurt just as much all over again and just... fell into each other. And yes, they really are.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 02:17 am (UTC)My brain is mush, so forgive me if I babble. The hot from this fic has left me dazed. Their pain was intense as well as their need to escape that pain and the sex...very yummy.
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Date: 2007-10-08 02:36 am (UTC)Thank you!!!
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Date: 2007-10-08 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 03:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
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Date: 2007-10-08 12:58 pm (UTC)Oh for the good old days!
Thank you so much!
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Date: 2007-10-08 01:08 pm (UTC)So glad you liked your prezzie!
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Date: 2007-10-08 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 04:25 pm (UTC)Thank you, though, for sharing your thoughts!
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From:no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 03:53 pm (UTC)Both of the men are so needy, and the willingness and curiosity Dick has for Slade was so great, especailly since it lead to that very hot climax.
Yet Joey's death was still a dark blanket around the both of them.
But God... *Slade*. *melts* That man.
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Date: 2007-10-08 04:26 pm (UTC)Their dynamic was always intense, to me...
And both loved Joey so much.
*melts with you over Slade*
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From:no subject
Date: 2007-10-08 07:58 pm (UTC)I love these two. Inappropriately. I love it when they're paired because it's like this; all angsty, hot, angsty and perfect. And athletic, of course.
Those pages from New Titans are probably about my favourites from that title. Maybe even above the amount of time Dick spends all half-naked in bondage ... though that's debatable.
I love the bit about 'it doesn't work if it doesn't hurt'. Ouchily perfect.
*applauds* Thank you verrrry much!
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Date: 2007-10-08 08:08 pm (UTC)I think you summed them up quite nicely there.
Bodnage!Dick is good Dick.
Thank you so much!
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From:no subject
Date: 2007-10-14 03:37 am (UTC)Aside from the hotness of the sex, I liked the interaction between Dick and Slade. Slade here is a guy whom you could befriend if you weren't too disgusted with his profession, or at least a guy you could trust to have your back. And Dick? Dick is all kinds of awesome. Then again, so's Slade.
Well done, both of you.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-15 02:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:no subject
Date: 2008-04-18 06:11 pm (UTC)OMG the hotness, the HOTNESS! (fans herself)
I feel really badly for both slade and Dick here. They're broken and reaching out for each other as they crash and burn.
Dick is his usual sweet self, and Slade is... (purrs) Slade.
Great job.
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Date: 2008-04-18 09:29 pm (UTC)(was hot)
And Yena is pretty much the whole reason this absolutely rolls with goodness.
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From:no subject
Date: 2008-06-12 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-06-12 08:22 pm (UTC)Thanks so much!
They, um. Yeah. They get me that way, too.
Die-hard Slade/Dick shipper, here. Though
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Date: 2010-11-14 01:34 am (UTC)It may have started by being about comfort and grief after Joey's loss. But I don't think it would end there. They connected too well and too passionately to pretend indifference to each other; and Slade, at least, has been wanting Dick for a very long time. I think Dick's just had a few of his triggers hit, too.
I love that Dick went there to apologize, and that Slade's all "yer gonna get yerself killed, Kid".
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Date: 2010-11-14 01:38 am (UTC)And such a nice comment too, because you hit a lot of the issues that keep drawing me back to this pairing at that point in canon.
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