Title: Instructions of truth and nature Authors: Derry and Petra Fandom: DCU Characters: Dick/Roy/Slade Summary: It wasn't hard to track Slade back to Dick's apartment, which should've been Roy's first clue that there was something wrong. Warning: Adult. Content some readers may find disturbing. Notes: This is not actually what happened in Nightwing #114. This is what happened in chatporn. It wasn't hard to track Slade back to Dick's apartment, which should've been Roy's first clue that there was something wrong. Slade left the window just a *little* bit open. Roy was sitting just above the window. He would occasionally peep in, but he didn't want to risk being seen. They might not have noticed him. He heard the slap of a bag hitting Dick's bed, and Slade saying, "Put it on." There was a long silence before he heard the bag being opened. Then Dick's breathing grew harsh and heavy. "No," Dick said and Roy knew the precise narrowing of eyes and lifting of head that came with that tone of voice. "Do as you're told, Grayson." Slade's voice was as soft as the purr of a tiger. "I don't have to do --" Dick's voice choked off. "You do have to." Roy heard Slade walking -- towards Dick, maybe. Slow. Steady. "Only a good guy would be bothered about wearing --" sound of fabric moving "-- that. You're not a good guy, are you?" "Fuck you," Dick said, just as Roy thought it. "Do I have to dress you, Richard?" Roy tried to unclench his fists but he couldn't. "Oh, fuck it," Dick said, so quietly Roy could hardly hear him. "It's just fabric." "Nomex/kevlar blend, actually." "Can I at least have a little privacy to get changed?" Roy could hear the smile in Slade's voice. "Nothing I haven't seen before. Besides, I don't think I trust you out of my sight." A moment of silence before the sound of fabric dropping and moving and what the hell was Slade dressing Dick in? Assless chaps? Stockings and basque? Roy had to know. He waited until Slade purred, "Beautiful," and leaned forward to look. Shit. Holy fucking, fucking shit. Robin. Roy wasn't sure at first whether he choked out loud, but neither of them turned to look, so he figured he was okay. Dick didn't look okay. At all. But -- Slade -- and those damn boots -- Someone had to do something, and candidate number one was definitely Roy. Easy enough to swing into the room -- into Dick's bedroom -- and then. What the fuck were you supposed to say at times like this? It wasn't made easier by Dick staring at him like he'd just made everything worse and Slade staring at him like he was the cherry on the sundae. It got even more difficult when Slade started laughing. "Harper," he said. Roy wasn't going to *blush.* But it was too late. "Wilson," he said. "I wasn't expecting you just yet," Slade said. "I thought it would take a bit more for you to show your hand. But you always were impulsive." Roy shook his head and looked at Dick, who wouldn't meet his eyes. "Come on, Dick. Let's get out of here." "No," Dick said. Roy blinked. "What?" Slade came over -- way too close, but fuck, it's Deathstroke, in the same city would be too close -- and touched Roy's shoulder. "We have a deal." "I don't," Roy said. "I'm taking him with me." Dick shook his head. "I -- I'm not leaving, Roy." "What?" Dick got that horrible fucked-up noble martyr look again. "I'm not leaving." "I'm not giving you a choice." And there was no way Roy could take out Dick *and* Slade but he would never admit it. "Very sweet," Slade said. "I'll give you a choice. Go. Or stay." Roy scowled at him. "I'm not leaving without Dick." Slade's smile was -- Slade. Terrifying and hot. "Then you'll have to play along, won't you." "Just go," Dick said, and he sounded desperate and lost, and there was no way Roy was leaving him alone with Slade.  "What's the game? Teen Titans of yesteryear? Got a red shirt and tights with you?" Slade chuckled and said, "Not quite," but it wasn't his voice. "Oh fuck," Roy said. "Go *away,*" Dick said. "Is this what you want?" Roy asked Dick, and Dick just avoided looking at him. "You're a sick bastard," Roy said to Slade. "You noticed. I'm flattered." "Get the hell out of here," Dick said. Roy winced. He had a bunch of habits about following Dick's instructions, but somebody had to save him from himself. "Come with me." Slade cleared his throat and used that creepy Batman voice again. "Robin. Come here." "Don't do it, Dick." But Dick was already moving, head down, until he was standing next to Slade. Dick shook his head -- and he was shaking, too. "Just -- dammit, Roy. Get out of here." Slade touched Dick's cheek so gently it made Roy want to hit him even more. "Now, Robin, is that how we talk to our friends?" Dick shuddered again. "Please. Don't --" Roy crossed his arms. "I'm not going to leave you alone with this fucking psychopath." "If your friend's going to stay," Slade said, and it would have been better if he'd used his own voice, "you should make him feel welcome." Dick winced hard, tensing. "Roy, go --" "Dammit," Roy said, "he'd make you *touch* him." Slade laughed. A Batman laugh. Not that Roy had heard many, but Dick looked sick. "Go on, Robin." Dick shuddered and looked up at Slade. "Can he go afterward?" Slade's smile was as sharp as ever. "He can always go." "Roy." Dick swallowed. "Please." "Isn't it better that it's me?" Roy said softly and Dick actually looked at him. "You fucking asshole. Go away." Roy shook his head. "You have to come with me." "I can't." Slade sighed. "Oh, Robin, you used to be so dutiful. Will I have to fire you again?" Dick strode over to Roy -- that purposefulness was familiar, almost, almost right -- and punched him hard, then fell to his knees. "So that's what you do with those Titans," Slade said -- still in his Batman voice, and Roy hated him before all of this. Now -- It shouldn't have felt good. None of it. But it did. Slade just wouldn't shut up. "He's good at that, isn't he, Speedy." "Jesus, you're sick." "Open your eyes," Batman said, and Roy couldn't help it. He didn't want to see Dick like that -- not now, not here, not with Slade's voice in his ears -- but it didn't make him any less beautiful, or the way his lips felt any less hot. "Dick," Roy said, and Dick's hands tightened on his hips. "Fuck his mouth," Slade said, and when did he get close enough to talk in Roy's ear? "Tell him how pretty he is." "Stop," Roy said, but they didn't. Slade's hand was on his ass and it was automatic to jerk away from it. To jerk deeper into Dick's mouth and, fuck, he hadn't meant to do that, hadn't meant to make Dick choke. "God, I'm sorry," Roy said, and he sounded hoarse over the roaring in his ears. "Go on, Harper," Batman -- no, Slade -- said. "You were right," said Roy, and he shuddered. "I should've left -- fuck -- stop, stop --" "Don't stop, Robin." And Roy couldn't stop it. Couldn't stop the orgasm that rushed through him and, fuck, he should have known you always obey Dick, should have *listened*. "Sorry," he said again, clenching his fists so tight it hurt and hearing Dick choke -- "god, I'm sorry --" When he came, Slade was laughing. Dick pulled away, coughing, and Roy looked at him -- shouldn't have, his mouth was wet and he was -- not crying, not Dick -- in pain. "Fuck," Roy said, and it wasn't enough. Dick looked at the floor. "Go." "I'm sorry -- Jesus, I'm sorry --" "Leaving so soon, Harper?" Slade sounded like Slade again, rich and amused. "You won't get away with this," Roy said, fastening his pants even though his hands were shaking. "I just did." Slade waved to him. "Tell your friends. Robin loves having company." Roy got himself out the window and to the ground just in time to throw up.
	Email the author DCU Story Index