Dis: I don't own

Summary. A little PWP, aka Dick goes undercover as an exotic dancer and Slade decides to spent his money for a lap dance, wouldn't you?

The air was tainted with the heavy smoke of cheap cigars, loud music was blaring from a sound system and the customers, mostly middle-aged men sat either around a stage or at a table in the dimly lit room. The tables didn't have tablecloths and he could make an educates guess why. In short the setting was disgusting to one Dick Grayson, yet here he was as a new exotic dancer. Silvio Damare, the head of a new human trafficking ring, used this establishment to conduct business in the VIP lounge. His first plan to work as a waiter failed, sadly the man was paranoid enough to have one of his own people cater to his needs, believing someone might use the opportunity to poison him. So with an audio recorder, disguised as a silver ring he could clip on his right nipple and a matching one for his left, as well as a pair of very tight black leather pants he walked on stage. He didn't recognize the song that played as he moved on the platform against the big metal pool. For the trained acrobat it was a warm up training at best. Trying his best to ignore the smell and the crowed as he started to rub his covered cock against the big pool, flexing and arching his back against an imaginary lover. Once the song finished he gave his public a seductive grin and let his eyes flicker to the VIP area, yes, his target seemed fixed on him, tracing the lines of his body with a hungry gaze. So he used a walk he had seen from Catwoman in the past and moved to different customers, making a point to seem willing and then look at the banknotes only to give a dismissive, clearly fake smile and walk away. He couldn't approach his prey directly, it might cause some paranoia on his part, but a greedy whore was in character wasn't it?

"Try the VIP area stud, the boss likes you", said a sleazy guy behind him, turning around he recognized him as one of Damare's men, jackpot. "Lead the way handsome", he answered playfully which earned him a pleased grin, getting his boss the dancer he wanted must be good for the guy's own place in the business. Dick followed him, ignoring the wandering hands which groped his ass and found himself finally before his target. His breath hitched but not because of the muddy green eyes which looked hungrily at him, but the steel grey one.

Slade Wilson sat across Silvio and gazed at him with a mix of dark amusement and lust. It was unlikely that Wilson would warn the Damare he figured, he didn't do things for free and seemed to find the situation entertaining enough. "All the dancing was tiring for you, wasn't it? Why don't you come and sit in daddy's lap pet", Silvio crooned and patted his fat thighs. It was a revolting idea he didn't have to consider further as Slade cut in smoothly, "Sweet words don't pay the bills", his hand moved inside his jacket and came back with several 100 dollar banknotes, "a lap dance would be really appreciated pretty boy." Slade just had to be prepared for everything hadn't he? He couldn't refuse the money without a good explanation, could he? So with a fast beating heart he mounted Slade's lap like the back of a horse, his back against the older man's strong chest so he could keep his eyes on Damare. Strong callused hands gripped his hip on both sides as he moved his ass. His original intention to keep a slight distance between his ass and Slade's groin was destroyed as the older male pulled him closer and practically rutting against him. The big hard object seemed to grow with each thrust, arousing him despite the circumstances. At least Damare's interest was secured, their man watched hungrily what only could described as dry humping. One hand moved from his hip and started to caress his own covered groin. "Good boy", purred the older male against his sensitive neck and started to lick and suck it. Great a hicky but no information thought Dick somewhat angrily as the grip on his groin tightened. "Relax pet, I can give you all the information you need to bring Damare into prison, whispered a smirking Slade into his ear. "You let me play wth you for a night and get to safe hundredes of innocentes, do we have a deal?" The hero paused for a moment as the older male continued to stroke him and finally nodded. Slade's hand left him and moved into his jacket again. "If you excuse us", he said addressing Damare, "my little boy is starving to be filled." He got a dirty smirk and a nod in return.