Fic: Three Conversations with Slade Wilson (DC Universe, Deathstroke/Nightwing)
Three Conversations with Slade Wilson
Rating: R (I really can’t write full-on porn…*sighs*)
Pairing: Slade/Dick
Canon: I wrote most of this at about the point when all the DC books leapt to One Year Later. So the whole thing with Deathstroke and the Teen Titans hasn’t happened and most of the Titans stuff OYL hasn’t either.
I even drew a picture for this one. It’s at the bottom.
From starluckasia’s challenge:
CANON 1: After the Wildebeest tragedy, Slade and Dick find themselves in the ruins of Titans Tower. Slade tries to comfort Dick who fights him (comfort as in reassure in words). At this time, Dick's disco costume is all ripped, showing his abs and chest and parts of his leg.
CANON 2: Dick as a cop in Bludhaven. He enters his apartment to find Slade sitting pretty. Slade tells him that Dick is all grown up and looks good in it. He tells Dick that he has a contract in Bludhaven and is telling Dick for old times' sake. Dick removes his shirt *in front of Slade* and puts on his Nightwing costume.
CANON 3: Mob arc. Dick is in his shower when he notices Slade's message on his window, written only a few minutes before. The door bell rings. Dick gets out, takes off his towel, and puts on his pants and shirt. After the visitor leaves, Slade emerges from the shadows. Implication: Slade saw Dick taking a shower and putting his clothes on right after.
Challenge fic: A story that can begin or has these lines:
"Grayson has this habit of BEING undressed in front of me. I find it [fill in the blanks - "annoying," "irritating," "hot."].
Conversation One.
“Grayson has this habit of being undressed in front of me. I find it annoying.”
The man tipped his hat a little further forward, its shadow falling across the bridge of his nose. The pale wintry sunlight was dappled through the tenacious leaves of a beech tree, shining on the man only occasionally.
“I don’t know what it is with him.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, gazing at his confidant. “I mean, first time - that I noticed anyway - was on Titans Island, the remains of it at least. We punched each other about a bit and next thing you know half his costume’s hanging off. Does that count though?”
Only stony silence met him, but his mouth quirked anyway.
“I expect it does. He didn’t look that upset about being half-naked. I suppose considering his Robin uniform,” he smirked, “he was still very dressed.”
A cold wind flicked around the trees, sending gusts and eddies through the air. The man’s trenchcoat flapped a few times. He pushed his hands into his pockets.
“Second time was a few years later, when he had grown up and got his own city and everything. I broke into his apartment - God knows why I bothered, only caused interference - for a chat. And damned if the first thing he does isn’t whipping off his clothes!” He laughed. “Of course, he was changing into his costume but still … you’d think there wasn’t a world-class mercenary standing there!”
His laughter died away echoed by the mocking chak-chak-chak of a jackdaw, which hopped across the straggling grass.
“I suppose the kid’s just used to everyone seeing his body, exhibitionist that he is.” He nodded at his companion. “Bet you saw a fair bit of that, didn’t you?”
If Joseph Wilson could have replied to his father, if cold stone could take on lips and a tongue and allow those long-silent vocal chords a voice, maybe he would have had a tale to tell and memories to recount. Memories of times spent on Tamaran, that gloriously tropical planet, and of Dick as comfortable as the natives in just brightly-coloured briefs.
Joey would have described, with words each as rich as poems, the joy and warmth of life on that planet and the love and happiness shared by its people. And were it not for the tears Dick had shed in his arms each night over his princess and the rage that had pulled at his friend’s body then Joey would have thought Dick would have fitted in well there.
But tombstones cannot talk and Slade only got silence.
“Third time was different,” he told the granite slab. “Third time was all me.”
A gull pinwheeled above for a moment, pausing on its way across the clouded sky.
“He was in his shower and didn’t even know I was there until I’d gone.” Slade chuckled deeply. “I left him a message in the steam on the glass. I wanted him to know I’d been there. Not sure why really.”
He paused, narrowing his eye at the graven words that spelt his son’s name.
“No.” His lips twisted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Blank grey stone stared back at him.
“Only one way to find out, I suppose.”
Conversation 2.
“Grayson, you have this habit of being undressed in front of me. I find it irritating.”
Blue eyes glared up at the man standing shadowed at the end of the bed. The sheets, thrown off in surprise and for the practicality of fight-or-flight, lay to one side.
“If you have to break in while I’m asleep…”
“You could wear pyjamas.”
“The central heating’s good. What do you want, Slade?”
The assassin dropped his jacket onto the back of a chair and sat on the end of the bed. It creaked.
“Just paying you a visit.”
“Just once,” said Dick, crossing his arms, “I’d like normal people to come and visit me. Not supervillains.”
“I’m not a supervillain. You know my loyalties are negotiable.”
“You destroyed Blüdhaven. That says supervillain to me.”
“And now you’re here in New York. You’ve moved on and that’s good for you.”
“And you’re one to tell me what’s good for me?”
Slade laughed. He shifted further up the bed, drawing one knee onto it. The bedsprings sounded their weary creak again. Dick pulled his legs up without thinking about it.
“I didn’t come here to argue,” said Slade. “Let’s go back to my first point.”
“Which was?”
“Your habit of getting naked in front of me.”
Dick rolled his eyes. “I told you: stop breaking in on me.”
Slade leaned back on one arm comfortably. “I considered doing that,” he said, “but then I thought about something else, which was interesting. And you’re the one who stripped off in front of me first.”
“I did?”
“Yeah,” said Slade with a grin. “You did.”
Dick was faintly unnerved by the grin. Lions and tigers prowled to the forefront of his mind. He reached across for his bedsheet but a larger hand on top of his stopped him.
“I thought my habit of being naked was irritating?”
Slade laughed throatily and squeezed Dick’s hand.
“Only because you have a very beautiful body.”
“I won’t hold it against you,” Dick replied with a chuckle that was just on the wrong side of high-pitched and nervous. “Sorry, old joke.”
“Hmm.” The corner of Slade’s mouth twitched. “And in this case untrue.”
Before Dick could question or protest Slade’s hand tightened and hauled him across the bed. Dick sprawled forwards to fall against the other man in a most ungainly fashion. He tensed to fight - of course! - but two arms had wrapped around him and warm breath was rattling in his ear.
“Relax.”
“What the hell are you playing at, Slade?”
“I would have thought,” said Slade, shifting and drawing Dick’s legs up across his own, “that by this point my intentions would be perfectly clear. I’ve always believed that actions speak louder than words.”
“Is this what all the naked talk was leading towards?”
“Unsurprisingly, yes. You’re remarkably slow at taking a hint sometimes.”
Slade managed to shimmy them both up the bed until he could lean against the headboard. He had kicked off his shoes at some point but was still dressed; a fact that Dick was quite aware of, feeling the clothes against his (very) naked skin.
“But you hate me,” he managed. “You know, for leading your daughter away from the path of evil and all that.”
“I got told to accept responsibility for my own actions,” said Slade, “and I’ve had a year to think about it. Staying mad at you just wasn’t productive. That kind of thing is bad for business. Getting involved personally always is.”
“And making a move on me now?”
Slade grinned. “Who knows? It’s a fairly recent thing. Consciously, anyway.”
“I suppose I can be grateful you weren’t perving over me in the green shorts.”
“Why? Everyone else was.”
Dick felt uneasy. “I don’t think I want to know that.”
“You’re right.” Slade’s hand slid across Dick’s chest. “Far better to pull that out in a fight to distract you.” He traced the muscles on Dick’s stomach with a finger.
Dick struggled to concentrate. “So turning up in my bed and groping me isn’t actually going to change anything?” Like I said, who knows?” Slade licked Dick’s ear. “And there’s going to be more than groping.”
“I’m not quite sure,” Dick managed to say, “that I can allow that.”
Slade chuckled, a deep chesty sound. “Oh, I think you will.”
Cupping Dick’s chin he pulled the young man’s head up for a kiss. Dick, after a moment’s hesitation and some persuasive tongue-stroking from Slade, kissed him back. His hand slid down Slade’s chest, tugging at the buttons on his shirt. Slade’s mouth moved to lick Dick’s neck and at that point Dick completely surrendered. He made no protest as Slade rolled them both over until Dick was on his back and pulling the other man closer.
“Are your affections,” he asked haltingly, “as negotiable as your loyalties?”
“Hmm?” Slade’s head didn’t move from its position against Dick’s chest.
“Will I have to pay?”
A deep laugh rumbled through Slade. “Don’t worry, kid. This is all about me. You’re just along for the ride.”
Conversation 3.
Slade was expecting a visit sooner or later. As Batman dropped onto the rooftop the mercenary turned to face him with a cheerful smile.
“It’s like this,” he said. “Grayson has this habit of being undressed in front of me. I find it hot.”
The End.
Rating: R (I really can’t write full-on porn…*sighs*)
Pairing: Slade/Dick
Canon: I wrote most of this at about the point when all the DC books leapt to One Year Later. So the whole thing with Deathstroke and the Teen Titans hasn’t happened and most of the Titans stuff OYL hasn’t either.
I even drew a picture for this one. It’s at the bottom.
From starluckasia’s challenge:
CANON 1: After the Wildebeest tragedy, Slade and Dick find themselves in the ruins of Titans Tower. Slade tries to comfort Dick who fights him (comfort as in reassure in words). At this time, Dick's disco costume is all ripped, showing his abs and chest and parts of his leg.
CANON 2: Dick as a cop in Bludhaven. He enters his apartment to find Slade sitting pretty. Slade tells him that Dick is all grown up and looks good in it. He tells Dick that he has a contract in Bludhaven and is telling Dick for old times' sake. Dick removes his shirt *in front of Slade* and puts on his Nightwing costume.
CANON 3: Mob arc. Dick is in his shower when he notices Slade's message on his window, written only a few minutes before. The door bell rings. Dick gets out, takes off his towel, and puts on his pants and shirt. After the visitor leaves, Slade emerges from the shadows. Implication: Slade saw Dick taking a shower and putting his clothes on right after.
Challenge fic: A story that can begin or has these lines:
"Grayson has this habit of BEING undressed in front of me. I find it [fill in the blanks - "annoying," "irritating," "hot."].
Conversation One.
“Grayson has this habit of being undressed in front of me. I find it annoying.”
The man tipped his hat a little further forward, its shadow falling across the bridge of his nose. The pale wintry sunlight was dappled through the tenacious leaves of a beech tree, shining on the man only occasionally.
“I don’t know what it is with him.” He stroked his beard thoughtfully, gazing at his confidant. “I mean, first time - that I noticed anyway - was on Titans Island, the remains of it at least. We punched each other about a bit and next thing you know half his costume’s hanging off. Does that count though?”
Only stony silence met him, but his mouth quirked anyway.
“I expect it does. He didn’t look that upset about being half-naked. I suppose considering his Robin uniform,” he smirked, “he was still very dressed.”
A cold wind flicked around the trees, sending gusts and eddies through the air. The man’s trenchcoat flapped a few times. He pushed his hands into his pockets.
“Second time was a few years later, when he had grown up and got his own city and everything. I broke into his apartment - God knows why I bothered, only caused interference - for a chat. And damned if the first thing he does isn’t whipping off his clothes!” He laughed. “Of course, he was changing into his costume but still … you’d think there wasn’t a world-class mercenary standing there!”
His laughter died away echoed by the mocking chak-chak-chak of a jackdaw, which hopped across the straggling grass.
“I suppose the kid’s just used to everyone seeing his body, exhibitionist that he is.” He nodded at his companion. “Bet you saw a fair bit of that, didn’t you?”
If Joseph Wilson could have replied to his father, if cold stone could take on lips and a tongue and allow those long-silent vocal chords a voice, maybe he would have had a tale to tell and memories to recount. Memories of times spent on Tamaran, that gloriously tropical planet, and of Dick as comfortable as the natives in just brightly-coloured briefs.
Joey would have described, with words each as rich as poems, the joy and warmth of life on that planet and the love and happiness shared by its people. And were it not for the tears Dick had shed in his arms each night over his princess and the rage that had pulled at his friend’s body then Joey would have thought Dick would have fitted in well there.
But tombstones cannot talk and Slade only got silence.
“Third time was different,” he told the granite slab. “Third time was all me.”
A gull pinwheeled above for a moment, pausing on its way across the clouded sky.
“He was in his shower and didn’t even know I was there until I’d gone.” Slade chuckled deeply. “I left him a message in the steam on the glass. I wanted him to know I’d been there. Not sure why really.”
He paused, narrowing his eye at the graven words that spelt his son’s name.
“No.” His lips twisted. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
Blank grey stone stared back at him.
“Only one way to find out, I suppose.”
Conversation 2.
“Grayson, you have this habit of being undressed in front of me. I find it irritating.”
Blue eyes glared up at the man standing shadowed at the end of the bed. The sheets, thrown off in surprise and for the practicality of fight-or-flight, lay to one side.
“If you have to break in while I’m asleep…”
“You could wear pyjamas.”
“The central heating’s good. What do you want, Slade?”
The assassin dropped his jacket onto the back of a chair and sat on the end of the bed. It creaked.
“Just paying you a visit.”
“Just once,” said Dick, crossing his arms, “I’d like normal people to come and visit me. Not supervillains.”
“I’m not a supervillain. You know my loyalties are negotiable.”
“You destroyed Blüdhaven. That says supervillain to me.”
“And now you’re here in New York. You’ve moved on and that’s good for you.”
“And you’re one to tell me what’s good for me?”
Slade laughed. He shifted further up the bed, drawing one knee onto it. The bedsprings sounded their weary creak again. Dick pulled his legs up without thinking about it.
“I didn’t come here to argue,” said Slade. “Let’s go back to my first point.”
“Which was?”
“Your habit of getting naked in front of me.”
Dick rolled his eyes. “I told you: stop breaking in on me.”
Slade leaned back on one arm comfortably. “I considered doing that,” he said, “but then I thought about something else, which was interesting. And you’re the one who stripped off in front of me first.”
“I did?”
“Yeah,” said Slade with a grin. “You did.”
Dick was faintly unnerved by the grin. Lions and tigers prowled to the forefront of his mind. He reached across for his bedsheet but a larger hand on top of his stopped him.
“I thought my habit of being naked was irritating?”
Slade laughed throatily and squeezed Dick’s hand.
“Only because you have a very beautiful body.”
“I won’t hold it against you,” Dick replied with a chuckle that was just on the wrong side of high-pitched and nervous. “Sorry, old joke.”
“Hmm.” The corner of Slade’s mouth twitched. “And in this case untrue.”
Before Dick could question or protest Slade’s hand tightened and hauled him across the bed. Dick sprawled forwards to fall against the other man in a most ungainly fashion. He tensed to fight - of course! - but two arms had wrapped around him and warm breath was rattling in his ear.
“Relax.”
“What the hell are you playing at, Slade?”
“I would have thought,” said Slade, shifting and drawing Dick’s legs up across his own, “that by this point my intentions would be perfectly clear. I’ve always believed that actions speak louder than words.”
“Is this what all the naked talk was leading towards?”
“Unsurprisingly, yes. You’re remarkably slow at taking a hint sometimes.”
Slade managed to shimmy them both up the bed until he could lean against the headboard. He had kicked off his shoes at some point but was still dressed; a fact that Dick was quite aware of, feeling the clothes against his (very) naked skin.
“But you hate me,” he managed. “You know, for leading your daughter away from the path of evil and all that.”
“I got told to accept responsibility for my own actions,” said Slade, “and I’ve had a year to think about it. Staying mad at you just wasn’t productive. That kind of thing is bad for business. Getting involved personally always is.”
“And making a move on me now?”
Slade grinned. “Who knows? It’s a fairly recent thing. Consciously, anyway.”
“I suppose I can be grateful you weren’t perving over me in the green shorts.”
“Why? Everyone else was.”
Dick felt uneasy. “I don’t think I want to know that.”
“You’re right.” Slade’s hand slid across Dick’s chest. “Far better to pull that out in a fight to distract you.” He traced the muscles on Dick’s stomach with a finger.
Dick struggled to concentrate. “So turning up in my bed and groping me isn’t actually going to change anything?” Like I said, who knows?” Slade licked Dick’s ear. “And there’s going to be more than groping.”
“I’m not quite sure,” Dick managed to say, “that I can allow that.”
Slade chuckled, a deep chesty sound. “Oh, I think you will.”
Cupping Dick’s chin he pulled the young man’s head up for a kiss. Dick, after a moment’s hesitation and some persuasive tongue-stroking from Slade, kissed him back. His hand slid down Slade’s chest, tugging at the buttons on his shirt. Slade’s mouth moved to lick Dick’s neck and at that point Dick completely surrendered. He made no protest as Slade rolled them both over until Dick was on his back and pulling the other man closer.
“Are your affections,” he asked haltingly, “as negotiable as your loyalties?”
“Hmm?” Slade’s head didn’t move from its position against Dick’s chest.
“Will I have to pay?”
A deep laugh rumbled through Slade. “Don’t worry, kid. This is all about me. You’re just along for the ride.”
Conversation 3.
Slade was expecting a visit sooner or later. As Batman dropped onto the rooftop the mercenary turned to face him with a cheerful smile.
“It’s like this,” he said. “Grayson has this habit of being undressed in front of me. I find it hot.”
The End.