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Slade smiled, the motion further worrying the meat of Grayson’s shoulder and he felt the younger man shudder beneath him before those lean legs tightened around his waist. Groaning, his fingers dug into the hip flesh and he moved with the motion, rocking in deep, earning him another shudder.
He wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth...well, no that wasn’t true, he would triple check his good fortune. But from Nightwing? Any step away from his rigid morality was counted as a win and he wasn’t quite sure what this situation would be considered.
Slade had been hired for a few anonymous hits that wouldn’t be discovered for a while yet, and an information grab. He was in a dry spell, job-wise, and this would take him to Bludhaven, maybe even get him an entertaining fight with the little bird. He, however, had not anticipated this reception.
Nightwing had crashed the warehouse where he was copying the files but had ended up helping Slade take down the surprising amount of hired muscle. Something he would still need to look into. This was the only night there had been more than five on watch.
Something had...not been off, per se, with Nightwing, at least not dramatically. He was still quipping and frustrating his opponents with fluid moves. But after the vigilante had knocked out the last man he had stood there panting, staring at Slade and the mercenary had wondered if they were going to be fighting after all. But then the kid’s posture loosened and he smiled, not his adrenaline high smile or his ‘I did well, now tell me so’ smile, something different.
“I’ve got a safe house on 10th and 27th,” Grayson said without preamble, slowly backing away. Slade got the impression that if the kid had had pockets in that skin-tight, x-rated suit, his hands would have been awkwardly stuffed inside. “Meet me there in an hour.”
He left without another word, right out the front door, leaving Slade thoroughly confused.
He didn't know what to expect but after watching the location for half an hour, it was clear Grayson wasn't prepping for a fight. He made a show of walking past the windows a few times in nothing but a pair of sweatpants and the unlocked window was as clear as the verbal invitation in the warehouse.
When Slade had made it far enough into the apartment Grayson attacked or at least he came at him fast but put up no fight when Slade restrained him against his chest.
“Did you come here looking for trouble, Slade?” There was that smile again and this time his eyes weren’t hidden behind his mask and he could see the anticipation, “I thought you would have figured it out by now.”
Slade wasn't stupid, he could read body language, he knew what a smile like that meant on any other face. He just wasn't expecting it from a Bat, especially not this particular one, with all the history they had. But again, Slade wasn’t stupid, he'd heard word from Gotham that the bats had been having a rough time of it lately… for a while now. There was a good chance Grayson was taking it personally and if he wanted to get rough with a man daddy wouldn’t approve of, Slade had no problem giving it to him. It wasn’t like he hadn’t grown to appreciate the kid’s physique as he’d gotten older. So it didn't take much convincing after that to end up in Grayson’s bed.
And the kid certainly wanted it rough. They’d broken a mirror on the way to the room when he’d slammed the kid against the wall, still testing out the limits so that Grayson knew what he was getting into. But it had only made the kid more frenzied in his intentions, wrapping his legs around Slade. It was a solid hold, he didn’t need to do anything to keep the kid up but that didn’t stop him from sliding his, now glove free hands, into the sweats and squeezing his ass.
Something sparked in Grayson’s eyes, “I knew you were checking out my ass in New York.”
Hard not to and as much as he wanted a better view of it now, he was pleased that Grayson had yet to turn his back to the mercenary. He would have lost some respect for the kid's abilities if he had just bent over and taken it.
As it was, when Slade laid over him on the bed, Grayson kept eye contact, seemingly daring for a reaction as his nails slowly cut into Slade’s arms, breaking the skin.
He took the kid's wrists in a bruising grip, holding him down as he ground against him. The sweats were left in the other room, leaving Grayson on display beautifully. He had some more recent bruising, faint scars, pale against the natural tan of his skin, one, in particular, catching his eye. A thin slash across his right pectoral Slade was quite sure had come from his sword. He ran his tongue along the length of it and Grayson arched into the sensation, breath picking up even more.
Slade was gone. More than he normally would allow in an after mission lay but the kid was worth the extra attention, especially with the sounds he worked out of him.
He was too vulnerable like this, so he kept the kid close afterward as they slowly came down, laying next to each other on the bed.
They were almost evened out when he noticed Grayson looking at the clock on the wall. It wasn’t the first time he’d checked the time but now Slade was no longer preoccupied.
“Have somewhere to be?”
Grayson took a breath, “No, but you do.”
“Is that so?” he asked, checking the edges of his hearing for any possible surprises, "Kicking me out already? One round enough for you?"
The kid smirked as his eyes turned back to him, “For now maybe, but no, I’m going to hire you for a job and it’s going to put you on a time crunch.”
I'm going to hire you .
Slade kept himself loose, keeping his hand playfully on the kid's hip but kicked his mind into gear. Something was shifting and he needed to be ready for whatever it was.
“Alright, I’ll play along. Are you even going to ask my rates? You might not be able to afford me, kid.”
He moved in closer, “Oh, I doubt I could pay the overtime for the inconvenience this is going to end up being. And I don’t really plan on paying you again.”
Slade stilled his hand, no point playing now.
Grayson continued, “Those hits were surprisingly expensive for as simple as they were. But I was paying for the best,” he leaned in, seemingly going for a kiss but Slade pulled away, on high alert now.
“...Again...” he prompted.
“I needed to get you into town somehow,” he said, simply, shrugging his shoulders.
Somehow didn’t normally involve murder, not with a bat. It was clear that something was definitely off with the kid now. Slade was still wrapping his head around the idea that Grayson knew that he’d had hits in Gotham, that he could have hired him to kill, let alone how easily the kid was talking about it. Slowly, Slade rolled out of the bed, perfectly aware of how long it would take him to get to reach the rest of his weapons, as he pulled up his pants. It was shit like this that kept the pants even partially on, a reason he hadn’t taken off the rest of his suit until they were in the bedroom. You couldn’t trust anyone. Surprisingly, not even Nightwing. He ran what Grayson had said through his head.
“In town. To hire me for something else.” He secured his guns. "Something I needed to know was coming from you, something I’d turn down if we weren’t faced to face.”
He considered the setting. “Nightwing,” he asked with condescending curiosity, “Did you just whore yourself out to butter me up?”
To his surprise, the kid didn’t even flinch, “Maybe. Probably one among the many reasons, besides me finally letting myself go for it.”
Slade hated not having a clear picture and everything Grayson was saying only gave him more questions.
“As good of a lay as you are Grayson, it’s not looking good for me taking whatever job this is, after all, you already implied you weren’t going to pay me.”
Grayson rolled onto his back, lifting himself up on his forearms, not bothering to even cover himself up, “Not in money, no.”
Slade laughed outright and grabbed more of his gear to strap on, “Not to hurt your feelings kid, but you are definitely not that good of a lay. I can’t think of anyone who would.”
He looked amused, “This was fun, but no. I am planning on using me as payment but it’s not with sex, that’d just be a bonus to the arrangement. Your payment is Renegade.”
Slade gave the statement the consideration it deserved, leaving the room in silence for almost a full thirty seconds before speaking, "Elaborate."
“No more Nightwing. No more vigilante work. I’m not talking about only a certain number of jobs or even suggesting qualifiers for those jobs. Renegade, full time, until the day I die, upon the completion of this one job for me.”
Slade stared at him, looking for the lie, but the kid’s gaze was steady, cocky even.
Until the day I die. Not when Slade died.
“No catch.”
Slade huffed a laugh, “Bullshit, there’s always a catch in something like this, if it’s not in the payment, then it's in the job itself. So, don’t keep me waiting, Grayson, what job is worth you working with me for the rest of your life?”
He sat up fully now, leaning forward, “You’re going to act as a distraction for me, for a while. Keep the heroes chasing shadows."
Interesting word choices. “The heroes?”
“I don’t know who’ll come after you but I know you’ve got contingencies. Even Superman wouldn’t be able to find you.”
Implying that Superman might actually be a factor wasn’t comforting. Slade did in fact have plans in place for specific heroes but he usually tried to avoid those higher powered heroes, they weren’t worth the hassle of dealing with, not without a big payday.
“And why, exactly, would they be chasing me?”
“They’re going to be looking for someone to take down after tonight, so it would be better if they had a clear target instead of trying to figure it all out. I don’t have time to deal with any accidental enlightened moments.”
His fingers stopped securing his chest armor. Pieces in his mind slid into place, somehow. Pieces that had no reason to fit but suddenly did. “You’re the Minotaur.”
Someone had been working in the shadows all over the world, dealings made in a wide enough area that the heroes had finally taken notice not long ago. Not that there was much to go on. ‘The Minotaur’ whispered a few times, just enough proof of their existence to lead to unease. All intentionally done, it seemed.
Grayson tilted his head, “No, Slade,” he rebuked calmly, too calmly, “Weren’t you listening? You’d be the Minotaur.”
The world itself had tilted without Slade’s knowledge and his mind scrambled to put everything in their new places, “Then who would that make you?”
“It’s not a perfect analogy, but I would be some combination of Daedalus and King Minos. I’ve built the maze and put in the Minotaur.”
For whatever reason, the confirmation calmed Slade’s unease and he sat on the edge of the bed in contemplation, “To kill?”
“Not this time. The Minotaur would eventually find whoever was put in the maze, but he was a distraction, a fear tactic.”
Slade nodded, “They were so worried about the creature that they never made it out of the maze.”
Grayson slid over next to him, “Exactly.”
The silence felt whole. This was real. This was happening. Dick Grayson had crossed the line and Slade was likely the only one to know.
Not only that but he also knew why, “This is because of what happened to Wayne's son, isn't it?”
The pain couldn’t be hidden, not on someone as expressive as Grayson, and he wasn’t bothering to hide anything now.
“He…” he swallowed, “It was my fault. If he had gone for the kill shot he would have been fine, it was the easiest move, but he hesitated. He hesitated because I taught him to be better. Better than what?” he snarled, “Than the living? The petty thugs who shouldn't have even been on the street? If the system worked like it was supposed to then they would still be in jail but they weren't and they…”
Slade hummed lowly. He could understand the pain Grayson was feeling. Having a son wanting to make you proud, only to die in the attempt. The blind rage it caused.
“So this is about revenge. I've got to say, that's rather disappointing, Grayson.”
He was expecting the kid to explode, to lash out in anger, but when he turned to look at Slade, he was calm, accepting of something the man had yet to understand.
“This isn't revenge, this is about evening the score. This is turning the tide. I was a vigilante most of my life and what has it accomplished? How much better off is Gotham or Bludhaven? The heroes do their best, every single day and all they're doing is keeping the cancer at bay. No one ever actually makes a lasting impact but what I'm planning will actually turn it in their favor, finally give them the upper hand. So what happened to Damian won’t ever have to happen again.”
His eyes shifted to the clock and back. Then the city shook.
Slade was grabbing the rest of his armor as the building continued to quake. Checking the windows in the living room didn’t tell him any more than he already knew. Multiple explosions at different locations. One, maybe a block or two away. He could hear more going off in the distance.
Grayson hadn’t moved by the time he came back into the bedroom, hadn’t even twitched. This is what he had done.
The streets echoed with screams.
They’re going to be looking for someone to take down after tonight.
He’d heard what Grayson had said but he still couldn’t have imagined that the kid had something like this in him.
“What’s your plan? You said ‘after tonight’, so I’m assuming whatever is going on out there is your doing.”
“It’s a good thing no one else will assume that.”
“What is going on out there, Grayson? What did you hit?”
His face was blank, “Key locations for the mob, gangs, drug dealers, human traffickers. If Black Mask followed his itinerary, he’ll be under a building right about now.”
“And you actually think this is going to make a difference, long term?”
Grayson blinked, “This isn’t just happening here, Slade.”
He rocked back. Shit. The Minator had been making deals all over the world. How soon after Robin’s death did he begin planning this?
As impressive as this all was, “What makes you think I’m going to agree to this job now?” There was bound to be collateral damage in all of this. Heroes were finicky about innocent lives and that meant there was a world of heroes that could be on his ass very soon.
Grayson stared at him, waiting. Waiting for what?
A ringing sounded out in the room and Slade quickly picked out a phone in its cradle on the dresser.
Was that...“You have a landline?”
“For when I turn on my signal disruptor.”
Slade’s unease grew. They both knew who was on the other end of that phone.
“You can never be too careful with Batman,” Grayson continued, “He’s gotten more controlling after what happened to Damian and I don’t always want to deep search my apartment.”
The ringing continued, but the kid made no move to answer it.
Slade knew he was missing something and it was making him impatient, “Aren’t you going to get that?”
“No.”
A beat more and the ringing abruptly stopped.
Ignoring the bats was a bad idea. They obviously thought Grayson was here but with the disruptor on, they wouldn’t be getting through any communicators. Hell, the kid’s GPS wouldn’t be registering. They’d come running if he didn’t answer that damn phone.
He was about to tell Grayson to call them back when the ringing started again.
Four seconds passed where they stared at each other before Grayson walked over, rolling his shoulders as he picked up the phone, “Yeah?” he asked, stiffly, “...Yeah, I felt it...Where was it?...” he looked at Slade, “What about where I was earlier?”
Shit.
“I…” Grayson hesitated, his voice not matching his face.
Shit.
“It’s Slade,” Dick shouted quickly, “He’s at my apart-” He pulled the phone away from his ear and ended the call even as Slade lunged forward, stopping as the kid then chucked the phone across the room, breaking it against the wall.
Grayson was tense and ready for a fight but Slade stayed, ready to move if necessary, but waiting, still calculating the angles being added to this situation. There was no silence, not with the concofiny of sirens echoing outside, but Slade still whispered when he finally spoke, each word sharp, “What did you just do?”
Dick glanced to the side, at the low dresser next to him, then back at Slade. There was nothing there, no weapon, no phone. Grayson suddenly tensed and Slade tensed with him, waiting for an attack but then the kid turned and slammed his head down on the edge of the dresser making him crumple to the ground.
He did not like the direction this was going, “The hell, kid?”
Grayson slowly got to his feet, using the dresser to steady himself as a line of blood dripped down the side of his face. The smile was unexpected, all of this was, but it was his ‘aw shucks’ smile, “Did I forget to mention that your employment was non-negotiable?”
Slade scoffed, “You think you could force me to work for you? You think, what, just because bombs went off people are going to blame me? Maybe at first,” Slade amended, “I’ll give you that, Grayson, but pinning something like this on me isn’t that simple.”
“You’d assume that, right?” Grayson asked, all cocky smiles now, “You think they'll believe you over me?”
Grayson raises his brows expectantly, "When all the cameras that you avoided by the warehouse show me limping out the front door alone? After I reported an altercation with you hours ago?” He tilted his head, miming talking into a comm piece, “'Keep an eye out Oracle, I got the impression he had business in Gotham before he came here...No, I think he's leaving, just alert everyone for me. I’m headed home.”
Home. Not a safe house. Home. Slade clenched his fist but otherwise didn’t move, waiting for more.
“What are they going to see when they check the camera’s B set up around my building? You were watching me for a good half hour before you came in,” Grayson paused, “Unless you disabled those? Didn't want to get caught in a trap? That doesn't look suspicious at all.”
“And you’ve got your disruptor on,” Slade added, “No recording to collaborate my side of this.”
“Exactly,” Grayson agreed, then tilted his head forward, “It would look even more suspicious if you were near any of the locations in Gotham that blew.”
Of course. Grayson was the anonymous hire. This was planned to implicate him. That explained the extra muscle at the warehouse. The little shit.
Seeing Slade’s realization, the kid had the nerve to smile, asking innocently, “You weren’t were you?"
Slade moved fast, grabbing Grayson and slammed him into the wall.
The kid winced but continued, "Look at me, Slade. It doesn’t look like I invited you over. What are you going to tell them? That I asked for it?” His eyes were wide and insistent, “That I begged for you to hurt me, that I begged for it rough?”
Slade didn't have to look at the rest of the kid to know what he looked like. He was still naked, the bruising obvious on his hips and wrists. That was exactly what had happened. He had asked for it rough, he’d practically begged for it, but no one would believe Slade if he said that. They’d see it as a taunt.
This wasn’t over. “That's quite the accusation, Grayson. Do you really think you can pull off that kind of trauma? That people are going to believe that I did that to you or that it was even done to you? You think you can play the victim well enough?”
“I'm not a victim,” Dick snarled, then curled into himself.
Slade held on but leaned back, frowning at the sudden shift.
“I should have been more careful. I should have covered my tracks better when coming back to my apartment, it was sloppy. And,” he let out a bitter laugh, “hell, I even left the window unlocked. Stupid. This was my fault.” His voice was grounded in resignation and self-deprecation, “Not that anything happened. I’ll deny it all but I won’t even have to admit to it for them to come to their own conclusions.”
Alright, so maybe the kid could pull this off. There were plenty of reasons he’d wanted Grayson at his side, Slade simply wasn’t aware that the ability for such deception should be one of them. He was begrudgingly impressed.
He was aware that the clock was ticking before the bats arrived but couldn’t help but wonder, “You get all of that off the victims you’ve helped?”
Grayson looked up, “First-hand experience always works the best.”
Slade slowly straightened, releasing him at the implication.
His gaze turned distant for a moment, “It wouldn't be the first time it's happened, just the first time that anyone would know about it,” he met Slade’s gaze, “so, yeah, I think I can convince them.”
The kid had cornered him.
Grayson ran his hands up Slade’s armored arms, “I left a pager where you were living when I trained with you. I'll use it to send you instructions.”
Confidence on the kid had always been attractive but he couldn’t just let him keep the upper hand, let him believe that he could control Slade like this.
“You really seem to think that you can make me do this,” Slade slid a hand around the kid's neck and began to squeeze, “The way I see it, I could just kill you now and get this over with. If they're going to be chasing me anyway, might as well be for something that I did.”
Grayson let out a strangled cough but leaned into the hold, “Do you want me dead,” Grayson ground out, “or do you want me ?”
Fair question.
Slade leaned in, his grip still tightening, completely cutting off his air, there was barely any space between them now.
Grayson’s eyes were empty of their normal spark. Maybe it was hope that had put it there in the first place but it was gone now. Gone with Robin. How had no one else seen this? How had his family been so blind to his pain? Not that it would matter now, Grayson was passed the point of no return. The spark was gone but his eyes were steel, unwavering. It didn't matter how many had thought about doing something like this before, he actually believed he could do this and was willing to throw everything away for it.
Alright then.
Slade’s smile was all teeth, “I guess that's going to depend on how shitting the next few months are going to be for me, won't it?”
He didn’t even think, just latched onto the kid’s mouth again, growling when Grayson bit down, breaking the skin of his lower lip.
Slade pulled away and laughed, then backhanded the kid hard before throwing him to the floor. Now they matched.
His smile widened when Grayson didn’t look put out in the least, just stayed on the ground, coughing, but still looking like a confident little shit. Like he always wanted Renegade to be.
Slade gathered the rest of his stuff on the way to the window, “Either way,” Slade promised, securing his helmet, “I'll be seeing you, kid.”