Mentality of a Teenage Superhero
I own Teen Titans like I'm the president. And, since I'm Canadian…
Author: Aloysha AKA Soli, with timely from Shin. (Yes, you're going to hell.)
Rating: NC-17
Pairings: Uhm. They're a surprise?
Warnings: rape/shota/yaoi/and other assorted nasties. Hopefully anyway.
Notes: (Aloysha) Uhhhhhhh. Bored Gay Boys + Too much Free Time Hell-bound gay boys.
(Shin) We are sooo going to hell.
Summery: Robin is having problems. Between Slade and old friends, he is losing his mind.
Chapter One
The Watcher
Robin checked to make sure the lock on his quarters was on then walked towards the bathroom. The shower was already on and warm mist was already billowing out. He stripped off his uniform quickly, exposing more expanses of pale, but scarred, skin with each passing second.
He watched, tongue darting out to wet chapped lips, as the teen carefully folded and placed his uniform on the back of the toilet. The teen was terribly predictable this way; the same time everyday, the same actions…always the same.
Clockwork.
It made watching him that much easier.
He left the mask on, same as always, and he had to confess he kind of liked it. The air of mystery it provided, keeping the identity hidden and forbidden even in these seemingly vulnerable moments.
He stepped under the spray, hair immediately being matted down to his skull under the force, and turned so his back was to him. Bruises and marks from fights danced over his skin while carefully toned muscles stretched and rippled beneath, shifting with each move he made. Black hair clung to his skin and small rivers of water centered there, trailing down his back to the smooth curve of his ass.
He turned then, stretching for the bottle of shampoo. Pale pink nipples stood out against his chest, which was just as carefully sculpted from years of constant training under his mentor. His lips twisted at the thought.
It really wasn't fair. Batman got to keep this little treasure under his wing and probably couldn't begin to appreciate what he'd help create.
Robin was perfection. Quick witted, strong in mind, body, and spirit, loyal almost to a fault, and just reckless enough to always reach his goal. Most of them anyway. He was also stubborn and secretive, with a strange sort of darkness lurking behind that mask. That's why he got along so well with the girl, Raven. While their companies were optimists, seeking the bright spots, they both were content to linger amongst the grittier elements and seek out all that was wrong in the world.
Yes. There was more to him than met the eye.
Not that what met the eye was at all unappealing.
Indeed he let his eyes travel over the lean form, feeling a familiar heat begin to coil in body. It was so easy to picture that body twisted in both pain and pleasure, taking on positions most people wouldn't be able to even consider seriously, let alone manage. But he knew this boy would. Robin wouldn't break or bleed easily.
Which was half the fun of course.
He could rake his nails down seemingly sensitive skin; press down until he drew blood and he knew the teen's stubborn streak wouldn't allow so much as a wince. He wouldn't cry out or scream or beg, no…the game would lie in trying to force him to the edge and shatter him.
Not that his interest laid totally with destroying the teen. No, that would pointless. He wouldn't serve any purpose if he were nothing but a broken puppet… He wanted him alive and kicking, just…his. He wanted to own him; for he was truly the most…exotic and forbidden thing he'd ever laid eyes upon.
And so, like all things with a 'do not touch' sign on them he had to own him thoroughly. He'd wear him down bit by bit until his walls crumbled and all he had to do was pick up the pieces and craft them in any fashion he pleased.
Robin would be his.
He smiled for a moment, pleased with this thought, when Robin did something…unexpected. He should have been done by now, as he usually was. The routine… there was a routine. Never faltering never shaking… He liked that.
He liked things to be in order.
So when Robin let out a sigh and put one hand flat against the clear glass of the shower wall while moving the other up to rake through his hair he found himself going rigid in surprise. The hand started down, hovering for a moment above hardened nipples. Then the right one was taken between two fingers, pinched hard enough to make Robin gasp before biting down on his lower lip.
This was…different.
He watched as the nub was pinched and rolled between Robin's fingers. The young hero's face took on a pink tinge he could hear how his breathing changed, no longer slow and even but almost erratic. His penis began to grow hard, lengthening slowly.
Robin squeezed his eyes shut, as if grimacing, then allowed his hand to slide down over the flat plane on his stomach, lingering above the dark patch of curls, before gripping his cock. They groaned in tandem, him quietly so as to go unnoticed by the hero.
Not that Robin seemed to be paying anything except himself any mind now.
He leaned against the shower wall and, with slow jerky strokes, began to touch himself. He could see his breath coming out and fogging up the glass and couldn't help but imagine seeing this and knowing he was being seen, instead of lurking out of sight.
He could just imagine the look of shame on Robin's face as he forced him to touch himself like this, how sick and dirty he would feel bringing himself to completion under the watchful gaze of the man he considered his greatest enemy.
He shivered at the image. Soon Robin would be his. Very soon. Until then he'd be content to watch this little unexpected show.
He watched, fighting to keep his own breathing even and urges suppressed. Now, more than ever, he wanted nothing more than to claim his hard earned prize and put it to good use. Perhaps having that mouth do something other than spit sarcastic remarks for a change and instead handle how the teen had, unknowingly, caused his body to react to him.
He licked his lips again, this time letting an image of Robin on his knees with his mouth wrapped around his cock flitter through his mind.
Robin's breath hitched and, with a muffled cry, he came. Cum splattered the glass and his hand for a moment while Robin went stock still, lips moving silently while his chest heaved.
While there was no sound made, Slade knew what he was saying. He was, after all, a man of many talents.
"Speedy."
He bit back a growl.
Speedy. He knew of the other teen, some archer with high tech arrows who worked under Green Arrow. Hardly worth the time to learn anything beyond that or, more importantly, a role in any of his Robin's fantasies.
He wouldn't stand for this.