Dick Grayson was ecstatic to go to Paris on patrol by himself. It was a once in a lifetime experience to visit such a lovely city without the rest of the Bat Family. It was to be a week long trip exploring the city and its rich theatrical culture while looking out for specific villains, such as the rare and elusive Deathstroke. Tonight was the first night and Dick was supposed to go to visit the opera that was going on that night to perform reconnaissance and then meet an ambassador for dinner.
Dick, however, liked to go off the beaten path a little bit when Bruce wasn’t there. He decided to sit closer to the back of the auditorium to get a better view of the stage. Then he wanted to go to a bar and get a few drinks before returning to his hotel room for the evening. He wasn’t always fond of classy dinners and the public eye on him at all times. The opera was interesting, but Dick was tired from the travel overseas the night before, and was almost nodding off. Looking to the side, he saw someone who caught his eye.
The person was pale, but not too much. They had soft gray hair, indicating their age. Their face was angular and their thick eyebrows framed their lovely, glassy dark eye, and had the other eye covered by an eyepatch. Their eyelashes were thick and wispy. Their lips were plump and soft looking, although they were thin. They had their legs crossed, and were propping one of their hands against their lips as they focused on the opera before them. The person was in an expensive looking black tuxedo, someone of clear importance.
The man’s eye drifted, moving to look at Dick, as though he could tell that Dick was staring at him with his big blue eyes. The motion of his sight was fluid and their eyes met for a moment. Dick felt his skin prickle and his cheeks turn pink before he turned away. They were three seats apart, but it felt like there wasn’t anyone between them. The man turned to the other person next to him and said something before waving them away.
Dick watched the exchange sneakily, before the other person, a woman who was dressed nicely as well, stood and left their seat. He turned back to Dick, motioning with one of his hands to come sit by him. Dick hesitated for only a moment before he stood and moved seats to sit by the stranger.
The man’s lips curled into a smile as he asked, “Didn’t your father teach you how rude it is to gawk, boy?”
Dick blushed and explained, “I...I didn’t mean to…”
The man chuckled, “Of course you didn’t. The name is Slade Wilson. Nice to meet you, Grayson.” He extended a firm, pale hand to Dick.
Dick took the man’s hand and asked, “How do you know my name?”
Slade chuckled and pointed, “You are wearing a coat with an ID on it. But what do you want me to address you as?”
Dick gathered himself and said with a smile, “Dick is fine. My name is Richard Grayson.”
Slade smiled, his pearly whites showing, “Dick, would you like to accompany me to the rest of this event and for drinks later?”
Dick asked, concerned, “What about your guest?”
Slade smiled, “Oh, Rosey? Well, she’s my daughter, and she knows her way around. You’ll be better company than her anyway.” Dick hid his blush and nodded. He knew that it was better to go with a local, and Slade had a heavy dialect and seemed to be acquainted with a good number of people in the theater. He bantered with a few during the opera before always turning back to Dick to talk to him. His speech was eloquent and his vocabulary was wide. Dick took all of this as notes in his mind and kept his guard up.
After the lovely opera, Slade and Dick went to a bar less than two blocks from the theater. It was small and cozy with older architecture carved in the wood and walls. Slade told him, “This bar has been here since the mid 1800’s, it’s a structure I remember well from my childhood. Didn’t grow up too far from here.” Slade lead them to the main bar with dark colored barstools. Dick hastily followed him and sat besides him.
The woman behind the counter said, “The regular, Wilson? What about you friend next to you? Haven't seen him around here. Thought Rosey would be here.”
Slade nodded, “Sangria with an extra shot for me.” He turned to Dick with a smile, “I recommend the cognac or whiskey.”
Dick nodded and said, “I guess I’ll take a whiskey.”
As the bartender made the drinks, Slade bantered with her, “I like making friends, you know that Terra. We can’t all live in the past. Plus, Rose can be a bore to drink with. Dick here seems to have much more to talk about that doesn’t involve politics.” He turned back to Dick, asking, “How’s life back in the states? Haven’t been there in ages.”
Dick smiled, saying, “Boring, honestly. Life can get so tedious, I definitely needed a week of escape for working in the corporate.” Dick had told Slade that he was working in a small firm managed by Bruce Wayne, not that he one of the heirs to Bruce’s fortune. He doubted that many people in England knew that, as it wasn’t widely known even in America. Being one of Bruce’s five children and one of his seven heirs, as well as the eldest one, had a lot of power associated with him. Slade seemed like he didn’t know, and if he did, he didn’t seem to care.
Terra slid the glasses down, “One sangria and whiskey.” Slade caught the glasses as they slid towards them, handing Dick the whiskey one. Dick took his time drinking, so that he didn’t get too intoxicated while making a conversation with the older man. The whiskey was smooth and it burned as it went down his throat. Slade drank his glass, ordering several refills for the both of them. Dick was intoxicated well before the evening ended.
He slumped on Slade and snuggled against him, making the older man chuckled, “Hold on, boy. Don’t lose your wits about you.” Dick closed his glassy eyes and smelled Slade’s jacket. He focused in order to make sure he wouldn’t be taken advantage of. He began listening into Slade talking to the bartender.
“Is he going to be one of your clients? You know he’s much too young, like 30 years younger than you at least.”
“Heh, can’t I drink with a man without it being sexual or primal? He’s not one of those...he’s from abroad. American boy.”
“Quite a catch. Could make you rich if you play your cards right.”
Dick felt his stomach retch. He had drank too much on an empty stomach. He bucked forward, one hand over his mouth and the other on his stomach. Slade quickly helped him to the bar bathroom, where Dick proceeded to throw up most of the alcohol he drank over the evening. He felt ill, but he was still thinking about what Terra was saying as he threw up.
Was Slade a pimp, a trafficker? A thief? He wasn’t sure Slade had the purest of intentions after hearing them talk.
Slade had stepped back to the bar briefly to say something to Terra. Dick drunkenly walked out the back of the bar without them noticing him. He was only three blocks from his hotel after all, he was certain he could manage his way back to the place. The problem was that now he had a bad headache from vomiting and he still felt way too drunk.
As a matter of a fact, he barely noticed when he was pressed up the wall by two men that he didn’t recognize. Dick’s mind was hazy, and he could only experience the sensations coherently. He could feel a blade running across his delicate flesh of his neck along with a simultaneous feeling against the crotch of his pants.
Dick groaned. He could only comprehend the sensations instead of make sense of them. The burn of pain and rough caressing made him feel good. He felt a pair of lips on both his lips and against his stomach.
The sensation didn’t continue very long. Dick slid down the wall, oblivious to what was happening around him. Slade had in fact come to his rescue, inhumanly pushing the others against the wall and clawing into their skin. Dick barely comprehend any of the screaming and sound of blood splattering around him.What he did comprehend was the feeling of Slade’s very strong arms around him, carrying him without effort.
“Terra, I got him. Did you find out where he’s staying?”
“Uh yeah. Hotel Ritz, top floor, royal suite...turns out the guy is filthy rich. Why are you helping him anyway?”
“Don’t ask. Just clean up these bodies. I’ll bring him back.”
“You’re gonna drink from him aren’t you? You like him, don’t lie to me Slade.”
“Clean up. I’ll be back.”
Dick was dizzily rocking his head with his cheek pressed against Slade’s shoulder. Dick’s eyes opened a sliver and he could see that they were flying. He could not believe it, but Slade was jumping high, taking him up to the top of the Hotel Ritz.
Dick blanked for a bit before he came to. He was lying on his bed in almost full darkness, but the open balcony window brought some of the moonlight inside so he could make out shapes in the dark. He could see a dark shape walking around in his room, and he knew already that it had to be Slade. Dick wondered how much of what he just experienced was real and how much wasn’t.
Slade spoke as he approached the window, “Richard “Dick” Grayson, I thought the name sounded familiar. You’re the kid that’s been living with Bruce Wayne.”
Dick grunted from the weight of his tired limbs, “He’s my dad. He adopted me a long time ago.”
Slade said clearly, “I know. And yet, he let you go to a foreign country all by yourself without any protection. You’re handsome, rich, and unguarded. Do you know how many people would love to take advantage of you?”
Dick scoffed a little, “I can protect myself. I’ve traveled by myself plenty.”
Slade countered, “Do you often go out with strangers, get intoxicated, and get nearly assaulted every time? You could’ve gotten hurt, kid.”
Dick squinted at Slade’s form, “Not the last part. But...at least I spent time with a handsome man like yourself…” Dick hiccuped and said, “I always liked...older guys…” Slade turned to Dick, and Dick looked at him, smiling drunkenly. He noticed just then that Slade had an eyepatch...had he had that the entire time?
Slade approached and said to him, “I’m dangerous, boy. I could break you here and now if I wanted.”
Dick grinned cheekily, saying with a bit of a giggle, “You can’t scare me. I’m not a Boy Wonder anymore.” Slade was taken aback for a second, realizing that this man was the first Robin, now recognized as the incredibly handsome American hero, Nightwing. Of course, Dick didn’t realize what he had said was surprising.
Slade said, “Hmmm, how about I keep your secret and you keep mine...and treat me?”
Dick playfully held the pillow and covers, saying, “I’d like that.” He growled playfully and then laughed. This was the true Dick, uninhibited by his fears and guard. Slade grinned and climbed sexily onto the bed, causing Dick to lean up and pull off his top, exposing his well toned abs. He was uninhibited and he was willing to do everything he could to be with Slade.
Dick hugged Slade and rocked against him. Slade could feel something between them as Dick rubbed against him. Dick moaned and smiled up at Slade.
Slade leaned in to him and kissed his neck, “You taste sweet already.” He opened his mouth and let his eyes flush a bright crimson that glowed in the dark of their room. Dick didn’t notice it and grunted only slightly when he felt a pain in his neck. Slade bit into him, drinking the pretty boy’s blood. Dick leaned against the pillow and let the euphoria of being drunk from take him over.
“You’re late.” Terra commented from the ground floor of the alley behind the Ritz Hotel. Slade landed gracefully with a smile. His eyes were still glowing crimson and he looked slightly disheveled. Drinking blood from and then having sex with a single victim wasn’t something he often did, but Dick was more than an average victim.
“I got what I needed.” Slade adjusted himself and began walking. He was also on a bit of a high from spending an hour in Dick’s bed. The boy didn’t disappoint, he was clearly experienced in virtually every way and took to being bit very well.
“Why didn’t you kill him? He can track you down.”
“He won’t. He wanted this as much as I did. The hour is still young, let’s move to find someone for you to drink from, Terra.”
Dick boarded the plane back to America a few days later. He still didn’t feel quite like himself. He didn’t quite remember anything after being in the bar with Slade before waking up in his own bed in the Ritz Hotel. However, he was sure he never told Slade where he was staying, so he was still pondering what happened that night.
Not to mention, he woke up with a horrid hangover, naked, and a cut on his neck. He didn’t know what happened to him, but he couldn’t track Slade down after that. He used every one of Bruce’s techniques and found nothing.
After that incident, he did the reconnaissance and data gathering as he was supposed to do in the first place before getting on his evening flight to New York. He got into his First Class seat near the window and looked out. As the sun set, he closed his eyes briefly before departure.
He saw crimson behind his eyelids, and a familiar face in his vision. Sick quickly opened his eyes and looked around. As he looked outside, he saw two figures on the tarmac as the plane was preparing to be airborne.
The taller of the figures stared at him, and Dick felt something stir within his very soul. He know that the figure was Slade, even if he couldn't make out any facial features, and was drawn to him.
Clearly, the two were connected by blood, and even if the man who was Nightwing by sundown was going back to America, he wouldn't be free from the man’s clutches anytime soon.