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On a private airfield on the outskirts of Bogotá Dick Grayson began to descend the steps of the chartered Cessna, hoisting his kit bag up onto his shoulder. He paused on the bottom step, shading his eyes against the sun as he caught sight of a figure standing near the outbuilding that served as an office and terminal. Slade Wilson, in jeans and a crisp white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
“Welcome home, Harrier.”
Dick let out a whoop of joy and ran forward, dropping his bag to clap Slade in a hurried embrace.
He grinned as he stepped back and picked up his luggage again. “I thought you’d just send a car.”
Slade slung an arm about Dick’s shoulders in an avuncular manner. “Oh, allow an old man his sentimental ways. I have my boy back for the holidays, after all.” He glanced appraisingly at Dick profile and ruffled the hair at his neck. “Your hair’s getting long again. It suits you – so does the tan.”
“You look...” Dick laughed. “The same as ever, I guess.”
They passed through the main building to where a car was waiting. The driver took Dick’s bag and they eased themselves into the back seat.
“The job went well, I take it?” Slade asked, sitting back after rapping on the tinted glass partition to instruct the driver to set off.
Dick nodded. “Took longer than I thought to track down the mark, but otherwise, yeah. Our client seems pleased – the second wire for five hundred k went through to the Swiss account yesterday.”
“How was Syria?”
“Hot. Dusty. No alcohol.”
Slade laughed and patted his knee, then conspicuously left his large, heavy hand there. “There’s champagne on ice at home.”
“And where’s ‘home’ nowadays?”
“North of here, near the foothills.”
“It’s not one of your ugly hunting lodges with a bunch of dead animal heads mounted on the walls, is it?”
“No, it’s art deco, you’ll like it.” The hand slid higher, fingertips drumming lightly on Dick’s inner thigh; Dick glanced at the back of the driver’s head, then back to Slade. “That’s one way glass,” Slade murmured, letting the side of his thumb brush against the seam at the front of Dick’s jeans. “I could suck you right here and now,” he added, mildly.
“Tempting,” Dick said, raising one eyebrow, “but let’s see if we can at least make it back to the house before you jump me.”
Slade smiled with a regretful moue. “You’re very cruel to me, Dick.”
“Hey, I’m the one who hasn’t been laid in three months.”
“And what makes you think I have?”
“Well you’ve been here since the last job finished two weeks ago, right? That’s more than enough time for you to rack up a few mistresses.”
“I prefer to bide my time,” Slade said, musingly, and the sound of this thumbnail rasping against the metal of Dick’s zipper seemed obscenely loud. “Plan for what I’m going to do to you the next time I have you in my bed.”
And really, Dick thought of himself as too old and much to worldly to blush, so instead he determinedly stared out of the side window to where the clouds of vapour hung over the green tree line of the eastern slopes of the Andes.
*~*~*
The house was a large, isolated building with sweeping, rounded corners and panel windows. As they walked up the front path a maid came to the door and started addressing Slade in a dialect of Spanish, too quickly for Dick to catch more than the occasional word.
“It seems we have guests.” Slade raised an eyebrow and conducted Dick inside.
From the hallway Dick could see through to a reception room, where two large Colombian men in suits distended by concealed weapons stood up and flashed smiles liberally scattered with gold. Dick retained his posture, giving no external sign of his increased alertness, but very aware of the gun tucked into the back of his jeans and the knife in his ankle holster. “Need a hand?” he asked, glancing over at his mentor.
Slade shook his head, squeezing Dick’s shoulder reassuringly. “Go upstairs and relax. I’ll deal with it.”
*~*~*
The shower was hot and almost unbearably good on his tense, cramped muscles and the water drummed loudly on the tiles, drowning out whatever was occurring downstairs. Afterwards Dick wrapped himself in a white toweling robe and padded through to the master bedroom to look at the huge bed covered by crisp white sheets. He thought about arranging himself on it in some inviting way and waiting but instead decided on going downstairs in search of Slade.
“Do you know,” he said conversationally as he entered a library and found the older man sitting in a wingback chair reading a national newspaper, “that there’s a body lying on the turkish carpet in the reception room?”
“Yes, I put it there. There’s a clean-up crew on the way.”
“Did you really have to cut off his hand?”
“Hm. I sent his little friend running back to the barrio with it, rolex still attached.”
Dick perched himself on the arm of the chair. “So, what did they want anyway?”
“They wanted to arrange a political assassination. For some reason they also thought they could intimidate me into accepting their idea of a fair fee.”
“Did you get all prima donna on their asses? ‘Don’t you know who I am? I’m Deathstroke the goddamn Terminator!’”
Slade clucked his tongue and pushed at Dick’s cheek with the back of his hand. “Kids today, no respect.”
Dick grinned and leaned in to press his lips to the other man’s, sliding partway onto his lap. Slade’s kisses were as deep and possessive as ever, his hand wandering beneath the robe to lightly brush against Dick’s inner thighs, making the younger man gasp into his mouth.
“Mm,” Slade threw him a rueful look as he pushed Dick away. “Go on, get back upstairs and wait. I’ll be there very soon.”
*~*~*
When he returned to the bedroom, Dick finally opened the champagne and poured himself a glass, almost moaning at the crisp taste of it. He went out onto the balcony and watched the black SUV pulling into the driveway, men in dark clothes and leather gloves getting out.
He drained the champagne flute and went back into the bedroom, closing the sliding glass door and pulling across the gauzy drapes before throwing off the robe and climbing beneath the top sheet. He lay on his back with one leg crooked slightly to the side and touched himself lightly for a while – trailing his fingertips up the underside of his dick, circling his nipples – then decided to stop teasing himself. Slade would not be pleased to find him too far gone. After a few minutes he fell into a light sleep, only waking again when Slade climbed into bed with him.
“Did you get tired of waiting, little bird?”
“Jet lag snuck up on me.” Dick yawned and wrapped his legs around Slade’s waist, using this purchase to pull the older man close.
“I like you like this, warm and sleepy and unsuspecting...”
Dick eyes flew open as Slade’s hands closed around his forearms and he was flipped onto his front and pinned with an elbow in the small of his back. “Mff... Oh quit it you big psycho! I thought we made a ‘no attacking each other in the bedroom’ rule?”
“Dickie, Dickie... I’d hate to think you’d gotten soft. Come on, show your old tutor what you can do.”
Dick sighed, then twisted to break the grip. Slade laughed, apparently delighted, and let him gain the upper hand just long enough that Dick was straddling his waist as he took him down again, slamming the younger man’s back into the mattress. They wrestled fairly evenly for a while, but Dick inevitably tired before Slade, his mentor having the advantage in weight and meta-human stamina. Dick had always hated hand-to-hand combat with Slade in an enclosed space – he needed distance for his agility to give him the advantage.
“The technique’s good, but you’ll never have my staying power,” Slade whispered in his ear, pinning him on his back again and not letting him twist away.
“Is this your fantasy, old man?” Dick retorted, getting one of his legs hooked over Slade’s shoulder and the other wrapped around his waist. “Or should I have covered myself in oil first?”
“Mmm, would have been more of a challenge. Damn, kid,” he sighed, grip weakening as Dick rolled his hips. “I hope you don’t plan on winning every fight by just spreading your legs and looking gorgeous.”
“Why not? You’re the one who told me never to hold back.”
Slade smirked and kissed him, the pin somehow easing into an embrace. Dick tilted his head for better access, opening his mouth as Slade’s tongue slipped out to flicker against his own. A hand slipped down Dick’s body, rubbing his nipple before sliding down his side and coming to rest on his hip, the pad of the thumb tracing the flattened, angular ‘S’ tattooed there in midnight blue – that had been a gift for him from a trip Dick took to New York.
Dick stretched artfully. “So, earlier there was talk of you sucking me?”
Slade let the hair of his short beard rasp against the younger man’s cheek. “Mmm, what makes you think I’m still in the mood for that?”
“Because it’s been three months since anyone’s touched me and I know you’re curious about just how loudly you can get me to moan.”
A white eyebrow raised. “You make a persuasive argument.”
First Slade licked a hot stripe up the underside of Dick’s cock, then he opened his mouth over the head of it, sucking slow and deep, and letting it slip out again before recapturing it. Dick arched his spine and tried not to buck his hips, gasping raggedly and clutching at shoulders. “Oh, fuck.”
Slade hummed in amusement and took him in further before pulling away with a wet, filthy sound. “Soon, little bird. Turn over.”
The point of a tongue, wet and insistent as it pushed into him. The stab of sensation caused Dick to let out a pathetic, whimpering sound – only Slade had ever done this for him and Dick had never found a way to control his body’s reactions when it happened. “Oh God, God, too much.” The protest just made Slade laugh against him, the vibrations driving his nerve endings crazy as he sank further into the mattress with a full-body squirm.
“Up on your knees,” the older man said, and Dick obeyed without thinking – command voice in bed wasn’t fair, but that never stopped his ex-mentor. This time Slade licked him, drawing the flat of his tongue slowly across Dick’s hole before the point circled it. When Slade’s knuckles grazed the underside of his cock, Dick moaned sharply and cursed into the pillow, just twitching his hips and coming all over the sheets underneath him.
He could hear Slade chuckling at his expense as he flopped onto his back and covered his eyes with the back of his arm.
“I’m flattered, kid – that’s gotta be some kind of record. What was that, forty seconds?”
“Only since you did the tongue... thing. There was also kissing and sucking and... now brain not working. Guh.”
“Yeah?” said Slade, moving over him to place his knees either side of Dick’s chest. “Then how about you use that pretty mouth of yours instead?” He braced one hand against the headboard and used the other to trace the line of Dick’s jaw, fingertips lifting to brush his bottom lip. Dick broke into a wolfish smile and and tipped his head forward, hands sliding up Slade’s hard, muscular thighs.
“Didn’t forget how to deep-throat did you? ... oh, good boy.” Slade’s fingers carded through his hair, palms cupping the back of Dick’s skull as the younger man bobbed his head. Thumbs began to massage the hinges of Dick’s jaw, easing the tension there. “Such a good boy, always so eager.”
Dick tried to ignore the tingle that ran from the base of his spine to the nape of his neck Slade saying those words. It gave him flashbacks to training – hard-wrung words of praise that had always made his younger self flush bright red with pleasure. It had only been a few minutes since his last orgasm, but he was already getting hard again – God, it’s like some kind of pavlovian reaction. Goddamn Slade, always messing with my kinks...
“Mm... that’s enough,” Slade told him: Dick relaxed his mouth and let the other man pull away. “Get back on your hands and knees. First time’s going to be fast.”
Dick grinned over one shoulder as he assumed the pose. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.” This earned him a hard slap to the flank with from a large, calloused hand; then a sharp squeeze and – inexplicably – hesitation. “Ow, ow... except I kind of like it slow too and oh, upside down and on my side and anyway at all so just fuck me, please–”
“Huh,” Slade said, fondly, “you know, I really missed hearing you beg, kiddo.”
Dick closed his eyes to the sound of the drawer opening and closing, then shivered and gasped at a slick finger shoved in without warning. Slade pulled it out with a twist and immediately added a second – then, just the one again, alternating in a rhythm that made Dick’s eyes cross. Soon his knees and arms began to tremble and he was pretty sure it was a symptom of the fact that his bones were melting.
It was his arms that gave out first – he crumpled at the elbows and his whole front half slumped into the mattress. Slade just gave a self-satisfied chuckle and grasped Dick’s waist with one hand to keep him in position as he angled his hips and pressed in. Slade’s cock was very slippery with lube, but Dick could still feel the stretch and burn of its thickness, the surging tingle all through his abdomen as it moved inside him.
The noises Dick made now weren’t even words, just hoarse shouts which came out in counterpoint to the other man’s deep grunts.
“My boy, mine,” Slade was saying, his free hand on the back of Dick’s neck, squeezing almost hard enough to cut off his breath. And whether that was Slade’s kink or his own talking, right there, Dick couldn’t say anymore.
*~*~*
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you.”
Dick turned his head and breathed deeply, eyelids fluttering open at the sensation of Slade’s calloused fingertips on his back. “Mmm-hm, the answer’s ‘yes’, but I don’t know if anyone will buy it if I wear white on the big day.”
Slade chuckled, then said: “what I’m offering is more binding than that, in its way. And it’s something I always planned on, whether or not we ended up,” he gestured, “like this.”
“The healing factor?”
Slade nodded.
“It made Adeline insane.”
“She was unstable to begin with. It didn’t drive me nuts.”
“Right, you’re an amoral mercenary – a perfect example of mental wellbeing.”
Slade smacked Dick’s ass in retaliation. “Let’s just say it was the new abilities – and circumstances – that made me change, not the drug itself.”
Dick gazed at Slade’s face, which had always been the same – at once seemingly marked by age, and unaging. “Just how immortal are you, exactly?”
“I can survive any severe trauma – bar having my skull crushed in,” he lifted his hand, gesturing a vague possibility.
“Yeah. It didn’t save Rose.”
“No, but she had it too young, maybe. She grew up relying on it – you wouldn’t. You’re smarter than that.”
“Is there a time limit on my answer?”
“Well, don’t wait until you lose a limb... or lose your looks,” he flashed Dick a grin. “I might reconsider the offer.”
“Hey! What makes you think I want to be your boy-toy for all eternity anyway?”
“Well, here I seem to remember that you started it.”
Dick laughed and rubbed his mentor’s chest, liking the feel of his body hair – all pure white, as it had always been, as long as they had known each other. “Just out of morbid curiosity – when was the first time you looked at me and thought ‘yeah, I’d hit that’?”
Slade’s eye was half-closed and glittering. “Maybe when I watched you make the first kill – the look on your face was so hard and determined that, oh, I just knew I’d done something right. Also, I always liked your ass in those little orange shorts.”
“Fuck, Slade – I was fourteen! That’s pretty sick, even for you.”
“Well I didn’t act on it, now did I? I’m a very patient man, Dick, and you were worth waiting for. I knew it would soon be time for you to go away, but I also knew you’d come back to me in the end.” He raised his hand to caress Dick’s cheek. “Wherever you go you’ll always come back to me. And I’ll always be waiting.”
There had been a time when Dick would have loved to hear that, and one, more recently, he would have hated it. Now, it just seemed like a very basic fact, neither thrilling nor repulsive. He closed his eyes and nodded. Maybe it is time.