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Slade’s first sign should have been that Nightwing’s disappearance began soon after the blood drive law had passed. To be fair, how was Slade to know that blood donations now being closely monitored by the government would have anything to do with Dick Grayson?
The mercenary had come by Bludhaven for a contract and expected the little bird to carry out their usual song and dance where Dick tried to stop Slade and Slade let the kid think he had a chance. It was a part of his routine that he had learned to anticipate whenever he came to Bludhaven, and, admittedly, he had come to enjoy it.
So when Dick had dropped off the face of the earth for no apparent reason, Slade had been reasonably wary. He had considered stopping by Dick’s apartment, but he thought against it. Instead, hoping to draw out the kid, Slade took more contracts in Bludhaven than he would have otherwise. He made sure to only accept assassination contracts, just to really rile the kid up and increase his chances of success.
Eventually, it worked.
“Slade,” Nightwing growled from behind Slade, where he was lounging on a rooftop, his sniper lying beside him.
Slade smiled behind his mask before turning around to face the vigilante. “Nightwing. I was beginning to think you finally hit the bucket.”
“I know you’ve been taking extra contracts in Bludhaven,” Nightwing said, his hands balled into fist. “Seriously, how many times have I told you to stay out of my city?”
“I would have been a fool not to take advantage of your absence,” Slade said. “Now if you don’t mind, kid, I have a contract to finish.”
Nightwing sighed, and it was more visceral than Slade was used to. “You’re not going to stop if I ask nicely, are you?”
Slade reached for his katana. “You have a lovely voice, but you know the answer to that question.”
The two men sprung into action. Nightwing avoided Slade’s strikes and came back with his own, his escrima sticks blazing with electricity. Normally, a fight with Nightwing required effort from Slade’s end to go unscathed. He rarely did walk away from a fight with the kid without a bloody nose or cracked rib. Not that it mattered–Slade could heal in minutes. The point wasn’t about being victorious. It was about facing an opponent who could actually keep up with him. Every hit Nightwing managed to get in sent a delicious thrill through Slade. The hero’s witty remarks and occasional flirtation were a plus, though he’d never admit it outloud, even if the fact that they’d fucked a couple of times afterward was telling enough.
But this fight lacked all of those elements. Nightwing narrowly managed to avoid a slice across the chest and his own attacks were sluggish. Weak.
“You’re off your game,” Slade commented. “Don’t tell me your time off has gotten you out of shape.”
He’d expected a clever remark, but instead he got a “Fuck off!” followed by a fist to the face. It was the first hit Nightwing had managed to get on him, but it wasn’t strong enough to do anything other than split a lip.
Slade easily recovered, though he was taken aback by the fury in the kid’s voice.
Something wasn’t right here.
Slade took a step back. “Kid, what’s going on—” he began to say, but was interrupted with Nightwing trying to get in another feeble hit. Fed up with the kid’s pathetic display, Slade snatched Nightwing by the shoulder and threw him onto the ground so that he was lying on his back. Before Nightwing could get up, Slade pinned his arms and legs to the ground.
“Enough ,” Slade demanded as Nightwing struggled against him. “If you’re still recovering from an injury, then you shouldn’t have wasted your time trying to stop me.”
“I’m not injured,” Nightwing rasped.
“You want me to believe this is just an off day?” Slade muttered with an eyeroll. No, Nightwing was a picture of grace, even on his worst days. He would never be this sloppy unless he was injured. He and all the other bats were fairly infamous for ignoring injuries and doing shit regardless. Slade would have none of it.
Yet as he ran an eye down Nightwings suit, he didn’t see any rips or tears, nor did he find any part of the hero’s squirming body that was moving more weakly than the rest. Instead, he noticed that the kid was thinner than ever, his breaths labored. Suddenly, Dick began to tremble.
From fatigue? Or was this an emotional thing?
Slade furrowed his brows and slowly released Nightwing from his grasp. He brought a hand up to his mask and took it off, partially to get a better look at the vigilante and partially to appear less intimidating. “Talk to me, kid. What’s going on here?”
Nightwing parted his lips to speak, but he froze. Slade couldn’t perfectly gauge the hero’s expression with the domino mask on, but he looked scared.
Scarecrow gas, Slade figured. It was the only semi-logical explanation for Nightwing’s strange behavior. Even though they were in Bludhaven, the kid could have been to Gotham recently and gotten doused without realizing.
“Alright, you need to contact the Bat,” Slade said. He didn’t have any antidotes nor did he want to get involved. He began to get up to his feet, but Nightwing snatched his wrist and pulled him down with enough force that Slade ended up a breath away from Nightwing’s face.
“I–I—” Nightwing stammered. “You—um—”
Slade raised a brow and opened his mouth to ask another question and next thing he knew, Dick was crashing his lips against his. Slade’s grunt of surprise was muffled as the hero practically smothered him, putting his hands on Slade’s face to get a better grip. The mercenary unsurely kissed back, but paused as he felt Dick capture his lower lip with his teeth and suck like he was starving for it, his tongue wiggling into the cut he’d given Slade.
Then, there was the sharp edge of two elongated canines.
Fuck.
Slade thrusted the kid away.
Dick fell back with a wounded sound, but quickly attempted to crawl back to Slade. “Please, please, please,” he begged, exposing what were undeniably vampire fangs in his mouth, smeared with Slade’s blood. “Just a little more. I need it—”
Slade was tempted to let the kid crawl into his lap and beg him some more, but they needed to address the elephant in the room and clearly Dick was in no mood to do so. With a sigh, Slade said, “Sorry, kid,” before knocking the hero out with one swift strike.
Slade tied Dick’s unconscious body to a chair in his closest safehouse and waited for the kid to wake up. It didn’t take long for the vigilante to slowly stir awake, twitching in his restraints and dropping his head with a sigh when he understood the situation.
“So you know,” Dick said dejectedly.
“It would be hard not to after that stunt you pulled,” Slade said. “I must say, I would have never expected this of all things. Who would’ve thought our sweet Nightwing was a bloodthirsty vampire?”
Dick raised his head enough to glare at Slade, his mask having been removed. “I’m not a—” He swallowed, then sunk into the chair, gloomy yet again.
Dick had accepted the title, even if he didn’t want it. Or deserve it. He had acted quite bloodthirsty not too long ago, but Slade knew he wasn’t being fair. The regular Dick Grayson Slade had known had already denied himself of life’s pleasures for the sake of vigilantism. Vampire Dick Grayson? He had no doubt denied himself of a necessity. Human blood.
Vampires were known for being some of the most powerful beings on Earth. They had strength and speed that easily outdid any human, as well as certain abilities, like regeneration, mind control, and even immortality—that is, if no one managed to cut their head off with a silver sword.
Dick Grayson had never exhibited any of those traits, yet it was proven that he was a vampire. That only meant one thing.
“You're starving, aren’t you?” Slade asked.
A wrinkle formed between Dick’s brow. “I wouldn’t say starving –”
“Only chronically malnourished vampires lose touch with their powers,” Slade said, since the kid clearly needed a reminder of his own biology. “All those times I’ve seen you sport a nasty wound—You would have healed it if you could, but you physically couldn’t. What the hell have you been eating to still be alive?”
Dick dropped his gaze to the floor. He didn’t seem to want to spit out the words, but he managed. “Blood drives. Dr. Thompkins . . . She’s been my . . . smuggler.”
Slade had to laugh. Dick shot him a nasty look.
Smuggler. This kid made the blood trade sound like it was equal to any other illegal trade. Sure, there were people in hospitals that could have used those donations as intended, but no one was getting directly hurt. That wasn’t why the government had begun implementing so many restrictions and extra security on blood drives. It was because people feared vampires—a species that fed on humans—and wanted them gone. It wasn’t enough that they’d already outlawed vampires in almost every country in the world—centuries of going into hiding causing them to evolve muscles that helped them retract their canines to look like human teeth—they had to go ahead and cut off their only source of ethically sourced food, too.
What a load of idiots. They didn’t realize that all that did was leave only one option on the menu.
Live humans.
Dick was evidently suffering the consequences of the new law and Slade knew the kid would never willingly kill a person, especially not for food. He’d rather die, and that was what would happen soon if Dick didn’t eat soon.
“All the people you’ve spent your whole life protecting are the same ones who want you dead,” Slade said, shaking his head. “And yet you still go out and do it. I just don’t get it.”
A shadow cast over Dick’s eyes as he hung his head. “What do you want with me, Slade?”
“I want you to help me understand that brain of yours, for starters.”
Dick didn’t answer at first, but then he sighed so quietly that Slade only picked it up because of his enhanced hearing. “They’re just scared. That’s all. And, honestly? They have every right to be.”
Slade’s brows shot up. “So, that makes it okay for them to hunt you down?”
“We’re their natural predators,” Dick said, spitting the words out like they burnt his tongue. “Who wouldn’t want us dead?”
Christ . The self-esteem issues were worse than Slade thought. It pissed him off that the world could ever make Dick Grayson blind to his own importance after everything he’d done for it.
Slade’s words were unlikely to get through the hero’s thick skull, but he tried anyway. “Humans kill animals for food and more all the time, but that’s okay, right? Because they’re humans and can kill whoever they want?”
Dick’s face was still veiled with darkness. Frustrated, Slade walked up to him, grasped Dick’s chin, and forced him to look Slade in the eye. The light caught Dick’s eyes and exposed the glimmering tears that were welling up despite the brave face the kid put on.
“You’re right. You are a predator,” Slade said, causing Dick’s face to twitch with hurt. “So act like it, or else you’re going to die .”
Dick swallowed, and after a beat, his face smoothed out with a look of acceptance. “Then I’ll die knowing I did my best.” Slade’s grip on his chin tightened, causing Dick to crack a half-hearted smirk. “Thanks for caring, though. In your own, Slade-y kinda way.”
The kid was talking like he had already accepted his fate, but Slade knew better. Deep inside, Dick wanted to live in the same way every living creature was programmed to cling onto life. He had denied himself so thoroughly, but Slade had seen the hero’s true desire spill out earlier on that rooftop. Dick just needed a reminder. It wouldn’t be hard. A starving man could only resist a fresh loaf of bread for so long if you waved it in his face–let him get a whiff.
Slade took a step back, releasing Dick’s face, and headed to the kitchen to grab a knife. When he returned, Dick eyed the weapon, his face growing wary.
“So, how’d my blood taste?” Slade asked curiously as he checked out the knife. “It must’ve been a treat after going so long without food.”
Dick’s nostrils flared. “This is fucked up, Slade, even for you. Stop toying with me.”
Slade ignored him. “In fact, that must’ve been the first taste of fresh blood you’ve had in a very, very long time, no?”
Dick’s jaw ticked. Slade grinned.
“Thought so,” Slade continued. “The way you threw yourself on top of me speaks a thousand words, kid. You were so desperate for it, and your begging–Well, let’s just say it was hard to deny you. If I would’ve known you were letting yourself starve, I would’ve let you have your fill. I don’t mind sharing. Hell, with my healing factor, I’m practically an unlimited supply of fresh blood.”
Dick’s eyes widened. He took in a few deep breaths, then shook his head. “No. I don’t want—”
“Don’t you?” Slade asked, his voice darkening as he got increasingly more angry at Dick’s stubbornness. Slade was more understanding when the kid’s ridiculous suicidal tendencies were directed in the field, but he would not let Dick Grayson die from something as preventable as starvation. “You sure seemed like you wanted it back there.”
“I wasn’t in my right mind, asshole,” Dick hissed. “Your blood was right there and I just . . . I couldn’t control myself. It won’t happen again.”
“Is that right?” Slade commented. “Then you shouldn’t have a problem if I just”—he swiped the knife vertically along the side of his own neck—”do that.”
Dick’s breath instantly hitched, his pupils dilating as his eyes zeroed in on Slade’s bleeding wound. His gaze was trained on the spot even as Slade walked up to him and cut the rope bounding Dick to the chair. Dick gasped as if waking from a trance and clung onto the base of his chair, his knuckles turning white.
Slade dropped the knife and crossed his arms, aware that he was standing right in front of Dick like an enticing meal. “I’m not gonna die unless you suck me dry, kid. I’m giving you explicit permission to feed on me.”
Slade couldn’t deny that he was curious to see Dick at his most primal state. Plus, they’d slept together multiple times. What was some blood sucking between enemies with benefits in the grand scheme of things?
But Dick was now refusing to look at Slade, his eyes glued to the floor as he clung onto the chair for dear life.
Slade sighed. Did he have to do everything?
Before Dick could react, Slade snatched him by the throat and shoved him against the nearest wall. The kid croaked, his mouth parted open for breath, and Slade used the opportunity to dig his other hand into his wound and stick his bloody fingers into Dick’s mouth.
It was like a switch had been flipped. Instantly, with a moan, Dick’s mouth closed around the fingers. He craned his head forwards as much as he could with the hand around his neck and practically deepthroated the fingers, desperate for every drop of blood. Slade loosened his grip only for their positions to be switched with Dick pinning Slade’s wrists against the wall and clamping his mouth over the bloody neck.
The sensation of Dick sucking and prodding his tongue around the open wound stung more than Slade had expected, but he couldn’t help but let out a pleasant groan as a hand shot up to Slade’s scalp and tugged , angling Slade’s head to the side to give Dick more room to feed.
Damn, Slade knew he liked it rough, but this was awakening something in him.
Dick’s body pressed against Slade’s chest as he gulped down the blood ravenously. Vaguely, Slade wondered if Dick would be unable to control himself from leaving enough for Slade to regenerate with. The thought didn’t concern Slade as much as it should’ve. Honestly, he was just glad to see the kid nourishing himself. He was especially glad that the nourishment was himself.
Yep. Slade was fucked up in the head.
Then, the dizziness hit Slade all at once. He stumbled to the side, the pressure against his chest and the hand on his wrist the only thing keeping him up.
That seemed to awaken Dick from his stupor. He let go of Slade and asked, “Are you okay? ”
Slade braced a hand on the wall and blinked away the colorful lights dancing in his vision. When his vision cleared, he found Dick staring at him with big, worried eyes and his hands out cautiously to catch Slade if necessary.
Slade weakly chuckled and closed his eye for a moment, tilting his head back against the wall. “Yeah, I’m fine, kid.” After a breather, his body started to tingle. The healing process was already doing its thing. He straightened up and looked at Dick who was wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his suit, crimson smearing across his lips.
Slade’s blood was a beautiful color on Dick.
“How do you feel?” Slade asked.
Dick’s lips slowly spread into a bashful smile. He scratched his head and admitted, “Good. Really good, actually. I hate that I just did that, but . . . Thank you. I needed it.”
Slade smirked. “I could see that.”
Dick playfully rolled his eyes. His entire demeanor already seemed improved and it pleased Slade to see it. Dick peered up at Slade curiously. “So, you don’t care that I’m a vampire?” The way that he said vampire timidly, like he was scared someone would scream at him if he said it too loudly, didn’t go unnoticed by Slade.
“Oh, I care alright,” Slade said. “But do I think of you any differently? Of course not.”
Well, that wasn’t quite true. Slade wanted to see all the things Dick could do if he actually fed well enough to have vampiric abilities, but he could settle with the kid being alive and well for now.
“So, what are you going to do now?” Slade questioned. “If you let yourself starve after all of that, I’ll kill you purely out of spite, boy.”
Dick laughed sheepishly. “Um, yeah, don’t worry. Leslie’s been trying to find a way to slip through the laws and get blood some other way. I should have access to food in a couple of weeks.”
“Weeks?” Slade echoed.
“Oh,” Dick said towards Slade’s confusion. “Vampires don’t eat as often as humans. And you guys eat a lot, by the way . I only need to eat, like, once every two weeks, and that’s if I’m not completely full.” Dick rested a hand on his stomach. “I’m definitely stuffed. Your blood was really—uh—” Dick blinked quickly ”—filling.”
Slade nodded, the words easing his concern. As he suspected, fresh blood was more nourishing and filling than donated blood. Dick should be okay for now.
It was amusing to think that every time he’d seen the hero eat, it had just gone straight through him, though, now that he thought about it. Regular food didn’t harm vampires when consumed, but it didn’t benefit them in any way either. Slade was impressed that the kid had managed to keep the act up for decades now.
“Anyway,” Dick said, “I won’t make this a habit. Promise. As long as you’re still taking contracts, we’re not exactly friends, got it?”
Slade opened his mouth to tell the kid that he didn’t mind if he wanted to suck Slade’s blood every now and then, but words sounded crazy even to him, so, instead, the sentence that left his lips was, “Sure, kid. I’m expecting you to be in top shape by then.”
And in top shape Nightwing was indeed the next time they encountered each other. The hero’s muscles were filled out and he had a lot more color to his skin. His attacks were precise, lightning fast, and left with Slade grunting in pain more than usual. It almost seemed like Dick was stronger than before, but it had probably just been a while since they’d fought.
He just didn’t understand why the kid seemed so furious at him this time. Slade hadn’t even been out as Deathstroke when Nightwing cornered him into an alleyway.
“Are you going to explain what I did this time, or are you just going to flaunt your health?” Slade remarked, growing annoyed.
“You know what you did!” Dick shouted. “I trusted you, damn it!”
Slade wasn’t in the mood for riddles. He got in a nasty hit and grasped Dick’s chin before the kid could faceplant, forcing him to kneel before Slade.
“What. Happened,” Slade demanded.
Dick following exhale was shaky. He took a moment to answer, but when he did, it was faint and questioning. “You actually . . . don’t know?”
“Do I strike you as the type to play dumb?”
Dick swallowed. “Oh.”
“Well, kid?”
Dick pushed away the hand on his face and got to his feet, arms crossed defensively. He turned his head to the side, looking away and allowing a nearby street light to highlight the purple bruise on his face. “Word around town is that Nightwing is a vamp.”
“I’m guessing that information wasn’t well received?” Slade said, narrowing his eyes.
Dick softly shook his head. “There are heroes that don’t like vampires. I mean, we are illegal. I thought it was you who snitched . . .”
“After I let you have that feast?” Slade said with a scoff. “You should know better, little bird.”
Dick looked back at Slade, his shoulders sagging and arms unraveling. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have at least waited until you put all your groceries in your car before attacking you like a madman.”
That got a chuckle out of Slade. “That would have been nice, yes,” he said before pausing. “Are you eating well?” He already knew the answer, but he wanted to hear it from Dick himself.
Dick gave a small nod. “I am. I mean, donated blood is nothing compared to yours but–” He stopped himself in his tracks, cheeks flushing. “Not that I’m—I don’t know why I said that—”
“Oh? ” Slade murmured, tilting his head to the side curiously, a smirk splitting across his face. “You’ve been missing me, haven't you?”
Dick waved his hands in panicked dismissal. “No, no, I just meant that, y’know, I’m doing well and—”
Slade brought a hand to Dick face to caress his cheek, running his thumb over the vigilante’s lovely lips. “There’s no need to be embarrassed now,” Slade said, enjoying this far too much. “It only makes sense that you’d want more of the good stuff after living off the bare minimum for so long.”
Slade didn’t want to reward bad behavior, such as the fight Dick had started with him while Slade was out as a civilian, but how could he resist giving the little bird the snack he’s been clearly craving for so long?
“Go on,” Slade offered, pushing his thumb past the hero’s lips. “Have a taste.”
The finger didn’t get far with Dick’s teeth blocking the way. It was up to Dick to open up and let Slade in. To accept.
The kid didn’t budge an inch, likely trying to deny himself yet again. Unlike last time, although tempting, Slade wouldn’t trick Dick into feeding. No, he wanted to see Dick squirm as he fought his instincts.
Then, he wanted to see Dick succumb .
After what felt like hours, Dick moved forward the slightest bit, parting his lips and letting Slade’s thumb settle on his tongue.
Slade tensed with anticipation. He looked forward to seeing those gorgeous, lethal fangs again.
With sudden conviction, Dick sharply inhaled and pulled away. Before Slade could complain, Dick fled the scene.
Damn it.
Dick may have resisted his desires, but Slade was the one left unsatisfied, his hand hovering in the air, glistening with saliva and infuriatingly unmarred.
“So,” a client of Slade’s brought up as Slade was accepting his payment, “I heard you and Nightwing go way back. Is it true that he’s an actual vampire?”
Slade sighed. The entire criminal world seemed to have discovered Nightwing’s vampiric secret. It’d been the only thing everyone talked about these days.
“No clue,” Slade said, rolling his eye when his client wasn’t looking, bent down to grab the briefcase with Slade’s money.
“Well, I have a friend who owns a biotech company who’s positive he is,” the man said, straightening up and handing the briefcase to the mercenary. “You’ll be pleased to hear that Nightwing won’t be bothering you anymore.”
Slade went deadly still. “What?”
The idiot had the nerve to grin. “Yeah, they have him captured and are gonna try to find out what it is about vampires that makes them so powerful. Who knows? Maybe they’ll find a way to become immortal!”
Slade dropped his briefcase and lunged forward to grab the man by the collar of his shirt. “Tell me where this place is now.”
Slade hadn’t heard from the kid in a while. Not since that day in the alley.
He’d thought maybe he’d gone too far. Dick still wasn’t confident in his identity as a vampire, and possibly never would be. He easily could have thought Slade had been mocking him.
After all, what sane person offered themselves on a platter for a vampire?
Slade had figured it was best to give Dick his space, but he should’ve known better.
Whoever had exposed Dick’s secret had put a target on the vigilante’s back. Now it wasn’t just criminals after the hero. It was the anti-vampire crowd and the crazy scientists.
Slade knew what it was like to be seen as just a lab rat, and it wasn’t fun.
He just hoped he wasn’t too late.
Slade took down security guards and goons, rushing towards the lab that Dick was being held in. When he burst open the door, he expected the worst: Dick strapped to a table, being cut open—dead, even.
Instead, the blood splattered on the walls wasn’t Dick’s. Slade knew that because Dick looked unharmed in his hospital gown.
It was the woman Dick was hunched over, his teeth clamped around her neck, that didn’t look so good. With the deep, oozing scratch marks spanning across her entire face, Slade couldn’t even tell if she was alive.
Well, the bitch deserved to die for daring to lay a finger on Dick.
Slade took a step forward—
Dick whipped his head in his direction and hissed, the sound a guttural thing with bared teeth and bloody fangs. There was no familiarity in Dick’s furious eyes.
Slade understood at once.
This wasn’t the Dick Grayson he knew. Right now, this was nothing more than an animal guarding its meal.
That was the last thing Dick ever wanted to become. It was very possibly his worst nightmare.
What did these scientists do to him?
Slade slowly peeled off his mask and left his hands up placatingly. “I’m not here to hurt you. Or . . . to take your food. It’s me. Slade.”
Dick’s face remained scrunched up with rage, scarlet droplets trailing down his lips to his chin and to the floor. Under his hands, the woman shifted with the faintest breath.
Was it even possible to snap Dick out of this state after he’d already gotten a taste of fresh blood? Slade recalled the first time Dick drank from the cut on Slade’s lip while he’d been starving. He’d become desperate and tunnel-visioned, and he’d only stopped after Slade had knocked him out, but it hadn’t been anything like this.
If Dick fed to fullness, maybe it’d turn him back to his normal self. And if not, Slade was sure he could overpower Dick while his brain was on vampire autopilot.
But then the kid would wake up, knowing he’d killed someone. That he’d sucked her dry. Even if he couldn’t remember it, he’d know by the fullness in his stomach and the taste on his tongue. Slade was sure of it.
This was outside of Slade’s control. He would need to restrain Dick and call the Bat for help. Surely the man could whip up a cure for this madness.
“Hey, kid,” Slade said, reaching behind to grab a katana from its scabbard. Dick flinched, cringing his head and hissing once more. “I don’t want to hurt you, but you—”
One second, Slade was looking down at Dick. The next, his back was on the floor with Dick standing over him.
Slade barely managed to roll out of the way of a stomp that reverberated throughout the whole room. When Dick moved his bare foot out of the spot Slade had almost been crushed under, there was a crater.
Fuck.
Somehow that scientist managed to restore the vampiric powers that had been lost from years of a low-nutrition diet. It was like Dick was stuck in an ancient, primal setting.
Vampires were already powerful as they were. A feral one, though . . . Who knew its limits?
For the first time, this was a fight between Slade and Dick that Slade had no chance of winning.
Dick kicked the fallen katana away with a snarl. Slade reached for his other one, but it was a futile move. Dick pinned Slade down with superhuman speed and went straight for the neck. Fangs tore through muscle without any care.
The vampire gulped and gulped and gulped.
The ceiling swung back and forth like a clock ticking Slade’s last seconds.
Slade’s limbs grew cold. This was it. Dick wasn’t going to stop. He couldn’t.
Slade didn’t blame him. This wasn’t his little bird’s fault.
As the edge of his vision grew dark, Slade’s heart hurt not for himself, but for Dick.
When—or if (God, Slade hoped it wasn’t if)—Dick got back to normal, he’d be devastated to see that he had become the thing he’d fought his hardest to avoid. He’d mourn Slade, which was ridiculous beyond belief. Slade was unworthy of such a thing, especially from Dick, who he’d tormented so many times, for so many years, but Dick’s heart was too good. He’d blame himself. He’d spiral.
Slade needed Dick to know that it wasn’t his fault right now or he was sure his soul would haunt the earth to do it in the afterlife.
Sometime while Slade had been slipping out of it, Dick’s hands had moved from pinning Slade’s wrists down to gripping each side of Slade’s head. Slade felt like he was pushing through molasses as he used all of his remaining strength to lift his hand up to Dick’s head and place his head on the kid’s hair.
“Don’t blame y’rself, li’l bird,” Slade murmured. “Not y’r fault.”
And just like that, the world went black.
.
.
.
Both an eternity and millisecond later, Slade opened his eye to see Dick looking down at him with tears in his eyes, shouting, “--ake up! Please!”
The kid gasped as Slade blinked his eye, adjusting to the world of the living.
“Oh my God, Slade,” Dick whispered, his face flickering with relief for a moment before it screwed up with pain once more. “You’re alive . I’m so sorry.”
Slade closed his eye and let out a breath.
Dick was back to normal.
And Slade was alive.
Slade gently pried Dick’s hand off his neck where he was trying to stop the blood loss. “I’m already healing, kid. I’m okay.”
“I don’t know what happened,” Dick said through tears. “I mean, I was injected with something, but I just became so—so hungry—”
“So it wasn’t your fault,” Slade said simply, too drained to put the emphasis he wanted to put into his voice.
“You don’t get it ,” Dick whimpered. Slade reopened his eye to find Dick looking down at him with too much anguish to bear. “I remember everything . I was completely there . I was just utterly controlled by my hunger. It felt like—like my stomach was eating itself. The only reason I stopped was because you—you were so gentle . And you said . . . ‘little bird.’ Only at the last second did I care about you more than I cared about my hunger. After that, it just . . . went away.”
Slade looked at Dick in awe. Dick thought . . . He thought this was weakness? Selfishness? It was anything but.
Again, Slade reached up a hand and cradled the back of Dick’s head. He slowly guided Dick to rest on Slade’s chest on the cold floor of the trashed laboratory.
That control that Dick had continuously displayed when it came to resisting his desires—the same control Slade had criticized and tried to destroy—was the only reason Slade was alive.
Slade took a moment to feel gratitude for Dick’s strength.
Dick lifted himself up enough to look Slade in the face. “Thank you,” he said softly, “for not letting me kill that scientist.”
It was only then that Slade realized that said woman was gone. She had probably stumbled out while Slade had been getting drained into an empty husk.
A thousand curse words ran through Slade’s head. He was going to find her and kill her himself. As they spoke, he was already healing well enough to go after her right now. He could do it. He could hunt her down and put a dozen bullets into her head before the sun went down.
But another glance at Dick and his tired, bloody face told Slade that that would be unwise.
Slade brought a hand up to Dick’s chin and tried to rub away the blood there. He didn’t like the fact some of it was that woman’s.
In fact, he didn’t like that Dick needed blood from anyone other than Slade. That Dick had to rely on blood drives for stale food or that he had to deny himself of fresh blood even though it was the healthiest and most appealing option. He didn’t want Dick to live like that–not when it wasn’t necessary anymore.
“No more shitty donated blood,” Slade said, earning a confused look from the vampire, “and no more never-ending self control. You’ve fed off me multiple times, so by now, you can see that I can take it, kid. From now on, you drink my blood and my blood only.”
Dick opened his lips to, predictably, argue against this, so Slade cut him off before he could try. “I almost died today. If you want to make it up to me, this is how. You think I’m doing this out of kindness? I wish I were, but it’s because I’m greedy. I don’t want you to sink your teeth in anyone else’s neck, you understand?”
Dick’s eyes grew wide. Scanning Slade’s face and realizing he was serious, Dick hesitantly dipped his chin, then cracked the smallest smile. “You’re weird.”
They both left the building and Slade dropped Dick off at the manor to get evaluated. Before letting Dick leave, Slade gave him his phone number and told him to call Slade whenever he wanted to feed, which would be about once or twice a month. Slade stuck around the area just in case.
Three weeks later, he received a text.
I’m kinda hungry :P
They met at Dick’s place and situated themselves on the couch where Dick was seated on Slade’s lap as he fed from Slade’s neck.
Slade toned down his usual teasing, knowing that anything could set the kid off, make him feel ashamed, especially after last month’s incident, so Slade sat back and let Dick drink his blood in peace.
At least, that was the plan.
With Dick’s muscular thighs spread on either side of Slade and his mouth on his neck and, God, that tongue flickering back and forth accompanied by the breathing by Slade’s ear—
Well, no one could blame him for getting a boner.
Meanwhile Dick, unlike the last couple of times he fed from Slade, didn’t seem to be in any particular mood–much to Slade’s disappointment. He drank without any urgency, his tongue brushing against the weeping wound almost shyly with his hands resting in his lap.
Well, this was the first time they were doing this while Dick was clear-headed, after all. Maybe the kid was shy.
Shy wasn’t what Slade’s dick needed, but he didn’t want to make this seem like a ploy for sex, so he stayed quiet and tried to think unarousing thoughts, which was essentially impossible so long as Dick Grayson was on him. Slade was beginning to worry that Dick would struggle to get enough blood when it felt like all of it was rushing down to his cock.
To top it off, Dick let out a breathy noise, followed by a small: “You taste so good.”
Slade’s hands moved of their own accord, tightening around Dick’s waist as he took in a sharp breath. This kid would be the death of him. It was like he was doing it on purpose.
And then it poked him. The bulge in Dick’s pants.
Slade’s lips stretched into a sharp grin. Now they were talking. “Do you always get this excited when drinking blood?”
“Do you always get this excited when bleeding out ?” Dick shot back. Of course he’d felt Slade’s erection.
“If you’re the one causing it?” Slade said. “Usually.”
Slade expected a scoff–maybe even a noise of disgust–but instead a whimper slipped out of the kid’s mouth as his hands shot up to Slade’s shoulders for support. He rolled his hips against Slade’s and licked a rough stripe across Slade’s open wound, like he couldn’t decide which one he wanted more: sex or food.
Luckily for Dick, Slade was more than happy to provide both.
He grinded back against Dick’s clothed cock and shoved the vigilante’s face into his neck. “It’s all yours, kid,” Slade said, “so don’t you dare stop until you’re full, because I’ll know .”
It seemed like that was the invitation Dick was looking for. He brought his lips around the two holes his fangs had created and sucked while rutting his hips with increased fervor. Slade’s head was angled to the side to give Dick as much working room as he needed, his ear at the perfect spot to hear Dick swallow down his blood through pants and moans.
The friction of their clothes sent jolts of pleasure down Slade’s cock that only continued to build as they got more frenzied. Dick pulled away from Slade’s neck to capture the mercenary in a bloody kiss that was all fangs and iron and passion. Dick’s incisors nipped Slade’s tongue and lips in the process, filling Slade’s mouth with his own blood that Dick eagerly lapped at.
Slade could hardly get a breath in with the way Dick was in his space, drinking from Slade’s wounds like it was his birthright. It was dizzying. It was intoxicating. It felt like being used like an object and worshiped like a god all at once, and Slade fucking loved it. He loved seeing this side of Dick—how uninhibited he was when he could embrace being a vampire and a creature with needs like any other. He especially loved that Dick felt safe enough around him to act out on his carnal desires.
A groan was ripped out of Slade as Dick fisted his hair and pulled it sideways to give himself access to the other, untouched side of his neck. There was a trail of soft kisses leading from under Slade’s ear to the curve of his neck, a gentle reminder that his little bird was still there, his loving self, before fangs sunk into flesh, sending a thrill of pain and satisfaction down Slade’s spine.
“Atta boy,” Slade praised, his words gruff with pleasure. He could feel his climax approaching rapidly. “That’s it. Just take what you want.”
Dick gulped some more before drawing back to look Slade in the eye as they rutted against one another like animals. The vampire’s face was flushed and painted with a sloppy combination of blood and saliva while his fangs peeked out of his swollen, parted lips. He was just stunning. Slade was never going to let Dick hide those precious fangs from him ever again.
“The truth is, I was so glad when you offered to let me drink from you,” Dick panted. “Your blood is the best I’ve ever had. It’s like a drug that I—ugh” —his voice grew high pitched—”I c-can’t get enough of. Mmh, Slade—fuck—”
That confession was more than enough to get Slade cumming in his pants. He let out a guttural moan as a wave of bliss came crashing over him. Dick followed right after, shuddering and bowing his forehead onto Slade’s shoulder. When he was ready, the kid slid off of Slade’s damp lap in favor of curling against Slade’s side where Slade wrapped an arm around him.
“I’m so full,” Dick murmured against the fabric of Slade’s shirt. “Thank you, Slade.”
Slade placed a kiss on Dick’s head. Hair tickled his face. “My pleasure, kid—if you couldn’t already tell.”
Dick’s laughter vibrated through Slade’s chest.
“So, what was that about my blood being the best you’ve ever had, hm?” Slade teased.
“It’s true. Maybe it has something to do with the serum,” Dick said. “But it’s too late to back out now. You’re stuck with me.”
“Back out?” Slade echoed. “Oh no, little bird. I’m here for the long haul, and I know just how you can pay me back for it.” Unwrapping his arm from Dick’s side, Slade pushed the kid onto his back before crawling between his legs and looking down at the vampire who grinned back up at him.
“Yeah? Why don’t you go ahead and show me how,” Dick said as his hand slithered down to the zipper of Slade’s soiled jeans.
Now this was an arrangement Slade could get used to.