Disclaimer: Don't own ^^

Summary: A short PWP for my loyal beta lalaerah :),

A Different Kind of Bondage

The first time it happened, Robin thought that he had finally pushed Slade too far. During his apprenticeship annoying the man was the only sort of rebellion he could afford. When he argued he got lectured, when he fought he was beaten, and open defiance caused Slade to pull the trigger attached to his friends into eyesight. Those short remarks, however, he could make.

But then one time, after one of Robin's comments, Slade told him they were going to train, and the teen expected a harsh fight. What he hadn't expected was that the man would battle him with a sword. It was a terrifying sight and for the first time Robin considered that he might be killed. Some of his fear had obviously shone through because Slade chuckled and assured him that it was only a defense exercise. Or in other words a block-or-get-sliced-to-pieces exercise. Still, Robin relaxed a little after that. At the end of the fight the teen had been too tired to even move his arm to block and the sword moved to his throat, leaving him no choice except to accept defeat.

After that first time it had become a common occurrence. Slade enjoyed the opportunity to show off his skills with the sword and once Robin got over his initial fears he began to find it pleasing as well. As soon the fearing-for-his-life stopped the teen realized that it was entertaining. The challenge of twisting his body and reacting quickly with an acrobatic stunt was exciting.

Years later, as Nightwing fights Slade once more, he can admit to himself that yes, it's sexually arousing as well. The dominance that the other male emanates, the concentrated gaze of his opponent focused solely on him, it's oh-so exhilarating. And it's because of this that at the end of the fight, when Nightwing's limbs hurt too much to even struggle, he gets an idea.

As always he's on his back when the sword moves towards his neck, that single eye on his face in a silent challenge. That's when Nightwing breaks the old circle. Eyes locked with Slade's, he opens his mouth and lets his tongue slide out while moving his head down to carefully lick the tip of the weapon, taking in the hard taste of the cool metal. Nightwing can feel Slade tense at the other end of the sword and smirks at the power he holds.

The weapon starts to move again, slowly, almost soft against his tongue as it glides past his lips. The angle changes and Nightwing has to lean his head back while the metal goes deeper into his relaxed throat. At last only the hilt remains outside of his body and Slade kneels beside him, removes his hands from the sword, and starts to take off his gloves. When fingers begin to explore Nightwing's chest the hero feels utterly exposed, unable to move for fear of causing his body inner damage. Slade peels the upper part of the hero's costume off, letting his fingers glide across the hardening nipples, twisting them slightly before he makes his way down toward the growing bulge between spread legs.

Remaining calm becomes more and more difficult for Nightwing as he attempts to keep his body's reactions under control until a small whine escapes his lips. Instead of stopping Slade removes his own mask before letting his mouth join in on the exploration. Lips wander to the hero's neck and the man bites down hard enough to draw blood. Nightwing starts to twist minutely and Slade laughs. The lips travel farther until he is all but whispering in his ear. "How about this," the deep voice purrs, "I will remove the sword and sheathe it, then you will swallow it scabbard and all like a good little boy. If you don't agree we will continue with the way it is now."

Nightwing considers his options. He can either lay there with a sharp object inside him or with a larger, dull object inside him. 'Oh the joys of free will,' he thinks sarcastically to himself. Therefore, in answer, all he makes is an agreeing sound in his throat. The hero can feel the older man smirking against his skin. The blade is carefully removed before Nightwing obediently swallows the covered weapon once more.

Slade then straddles him, his knees on either side of his captives hips. His hands brush over the younger man's chest as they move down to his hips. Leaning down so that their lips touch slightly around the sword and the growing bulges in both their pants connect, Slade bucks his pelvis forward once and Nightwing allows a moan to escape. The man's smirk turns into a smug grin. "You love this, don't you my sweet song bird? Your body can't be filled enough. You want it here, out in the open for everybody to see. To demonstrate just what you are willing to do to fulfill your desires, what you are willing to do to pleasure me."

Nightwing blinks and the mood is broken. He hadn't thought about how public they actually were. Here he was, trying to make a name for himself in this city, and allowing a criminal that he couldn't catch and bring to justice to fuck him on a rooftop. It truly wasn't good publicity in the slightest.

A demanding kiss to his bitten neck brings him back to the matter at hand and Slade says soothingly, "don't worry, if anyone thinks they can take advantage of you I'll take care of it." The hero smiles awkwardly around the covered weapon. The sentiment is oddly sweet, in a psychopathic way. Plus Deathstroke is considered to be the world's best assassin, so it isn't like Nightwing is rolling over for just anybody. Finally his pants are removed and the belt with his weapons is placed near his right hand. It's a comforting presence and Nightwing truly relaxes knowing that he isn't so defenseless anymore. Slade retrieves a small bottle with clear liquid in it from his waist and pours it's contents on his right hand. The man's left hand unbuckles his own belt and pulls his pants down while the right one strokes once his newly freed and very hard shaft before moving to the younger man's entrance and easing two oiled fingers inside.

As the fingers scissor inside of him, Nightwing tries desperately to remain still. His arms, which are the only part of his body that he can still fully use, twist around and his nails dig into the rooftop in search of a hold. This becomes pointless however, when Slade finds that little bundle of nerves. The fingers still for only a moment before pushing back with more force. A rhythm builds until Nightwing nearly finds his release, his cock dripping with pre-cum.

When the fingers stop the younger man takes some pride in knowing that he isn't the only one effected, seeing as Slade is in the same state as him. The huge cock then pushes into him, finding the same bundle of nerves that the fingers had been massaging before. As the thrusts speed up, Nightwing finally cums and Slade fills him up a second later.

With both of them panting, the older man drops to his side next to the hero on the rooftop. Nightwing raises an eyebrow in question, the sheathed sword still down his throat. He hadn't expected this one-night-stand to last any longer than the actual fucking. Yet Slade simply bites back down on the wound on his neck in reply, making sure it will scar in the future to serve as a permanent reminder.

"As if I would ever let you go, now that I have caught you..."