"Fuck," the boy whined underneath him. "Fuck, fuck."

""Hood seems to be rubbing off on you," Dick commented coolly as he pounded into Tim with a rough clap of flesh. "You're swearing more and more each time I see you." Tim mewled into the pillows and simply arched his bare ass higher for Dick to continue taking. "Are you this desperate whenever he's fucking you?" Dick smirked breathlessly, spreading Tim's cheeks and groping them roughly. "Or is it just for me?"

Tim, the cheeky little shit, actually managed a muffled laugh, which really shouldn't have been as hot as it was considering he was gripping the sheets for dear life and flushed a deep shade of red. "Actually, he's the loud one, believe it or not. I'm quiet compared to h- oh," Tim cut off with a keen as Dick rammed into the small bundle of nerves deep inside him.

"Interesting," Dick pulled his lips back into a humored, imaginative smirk. To have the most dangerous, powerful man in the underworld of Gotham groaning and just begging for more, all thick and uncut inside him while his fingernails bit into his thighs - Heh. No one could say he didn't have a vivid imagination. If only he could picture his face; Tim says it's rough looking and stern, but with a wild look that could make anyone feel alive. Green eyes, dark hair, stubble on his cheek...oh, and broad shoulders, a muscular back, hands that could either snap his neck or make him cum just by touching him- Dick shuddered at the thought and sped up in desperation. If Tim could keep his head bent down just like that, Dick could almost picture it. But, unfortunately, with a sharp, overwhelmed whimper below him, Tim convulsed and simply collapsed in a heap. Dick grunted in annoyance at having his rhythm thrown off and found himself sadly ripped away from what would have been a pretty fantastic orgasm. He could have kept going and climaxed anyway, but at this point, the illusion was dead, so whatever. He pulled slowly out of Tim, still a little slick before wiping himself off on the sheets and leaning with an unimpressed scowl against the wall.

Tim shivered by himself less than a foot away for a number of countless minutes; in fact, Dick was actually starting to shift in impatience before the boy finally sighed and pulled himself up to sit cross-legged in front of Dick.

"Finally," Dick grunted, shoving himself off the wall and leaning forward. "What have you got for me this time, baby?" he amended sweetly after seeing the stricken, almost...hurt look on Tim's face at his brashness. Poor thing... if only Dick had the pity to care. It wasn't his problem if the boy got his feelings hurt, this was the big leagues and he knew better.

"You don't have to act like I'm such a chore," Tim scoffed coldly. Dick rolled his eyes indifferently. "If you don't want to fuck, you're an adult; you can just say no."

"Please," Dick snorted, leaning to one side on his hand. "Then what would you do for a piece of ass?"

"Easy; I have a hot mob boss for a roommate who won't tell me no," Tim replied smugly without missing a beat. Dick had to bite back a twinge of irritation (he wasn't jealous of the brat. He wasn't), but he had to admit that the little shit got him on that one. That is what he hired him for, after all.

"Regardless," Dick shifted to cross his legs impatiently. "I believe it's time for an update. What's new? Did you get his name, yet?"

"No," Tim muttered quietly. Great, Dick thought in disappointment; it's been six weeks, what's the hold up? "He doesn't answer personal questions and he gets suspicious every time I do. He'll stop talking to me and disappear for days on end, I told you that," Tim sighed warily.

"Have you followed him?" Dick asked, piking up curiously.

"No, stupid. The last thing I need is to get caught dogging Hood if he's already suspicious of me. These things take time, you'll just have to be patient," Time scolded with a frown.

"Then what do you have for me?" Dick snapped irritably.

Tim almost flinched, but steeled himself and stuck out his chin haughtily. "He let me go to two of his meetings last week," he smirked smugly.

"What?" Dick's eyes widened and he straightened up immediately.

"There are six major trades going on in the next two weeks; three for automatic firearms, one with some kind of nuclear chemical, one for robotic equipment, and one for forged documents to give to his distributors," he informed, scrunching up his brows as he pulled the information from memory.

"What, no drugs?" Dick smirked jokingly as he scratched his head.

"Actually, the District bosses handle that, they just give him 40%." Dick whistled, impressed at that. Hood really had his shit together, huh?

"So, uh," Dick hummed thoughtfully. "Are any of his trades...tonight?" he asked with an innocent smile.

Tim's eyes went wide before scowling and shaking his head. "Uh uh, no way. If you even think about sabotaging, then I'll-"

"You'll what, sweetheart?" Dick rested his chin on his hand with a challenging expression.

"I-" Tim stuttered before squaring his shoulders intently. "Look, if his business starts crapping out right after he lets me in, he's going to know something's up. I won't last another day if you try anything," he warned urgently. Dick sighed and rolled his eyes dismissively.

"I won't mess up the trades," he promised heavily, even bringing up his right hand in a mock salute.

Tim chewed the inside of his cheek hesitantly. "Well...he's supervising one tonight at midnight by the docks," he admitted slowly. Dick's eyes must have gleamed, because Tim was almost visibly sweating in worry now. "You're not going to- tonight's not the night, is it?"

Dick had to bite back a laugh. "I'm not going to kill him tonight, don't worry about your boyfriend."

Tim scowled indignantly and snapped. "Please, I was only concerned that I'd have to disappear earlier than planned."

"What do you mean, Timmy?" Dick furrowed his brows dangerously and started slowly reaching for one of his swords. "Are you going to ditch out on me?"

"Of course not, we had a deal," Tim rolled his eyes, pretending not to be terrified at Dick's silent ferocity. "But on the day you decide to kill him, don't expect me to be anywhere within a 500 mile radius."

"I'll keep that in mind," Dick retorted coolly, bringing his hand back to rest in his naked lap. Really, though, it was cute that Tim had an escape plan. It was sad that it would never work.

"Great," Tim ended awkwardly. before falling into a tense silence. Dick stared unwaveringly for a while and Tim plain just lost his nerve and stared at the ugly print on the hotel quilt. It was that time now; Strange and lingering and the time that Dick usually kicked Tim into a taxi before he had time to think. Maybe he'd get lucky again tonight.

"Are we done, then, Timmy?" Dick asked coolly, plucking absently at one of the loose threads on the blanket. Tim didn't answer right away. It took him a good minute to actually pluck up the courage before finally meeting Dick's eyes.

"No. Dick...you've been avoiding the subject for six weeks, it's time to hold up your end of the bargain," he demanded softly. For a second, Dick was tempted to reach out and snap the little shit's neck right there. After that moment, though, the feeling sunk right into his stomach and dropped all the way to his toes. Well, fuck.

"Yes," Dick replied unwillingly. He would have said that no, he hadn't been avoiding it, but that would have been a lie. Really, all he did was try desperately to fuck Tim's brains out every time enough to forget about it, but after pissing him off and not really trying today, he shouldn't be surprised. "What would you like to know?"

"Anything you can tell me. Do you want me to question you to death or do you wanna just get it all out?" he offered, stretching out and propping himself up on the pillows. Dick wrinkled his nose and fought the impulse to snarl. Did he take little doses of pain or one long bought to get it all over with?

Fuck it.

"Richard John Grayson... that's my full name my parent's gave me at birth," he started. Might as well start from the beginning. "I was born in Romania 26 years ago, but my parents immigrated here for a better life, which they thought they'd find by joining a circus," Dick rolled his eyes, trying to remain brash and distant.

Tim arched his brows in interest and leaned closer.

"I was raised as an acrobat. I could ride elephants before I could walk and I was taught to juggle like the clowns before I could talk. We, um...we had this show..." he cleared his throat uncomfortably. "My mother, father and I...we were the Flying Graysons," Dick shivered saying it. Even now, he couldn't resist voicing the theatrical flare from the words, which only made saying it more painful.

Tim seemed to gag suddenly his eyes widened inexplicably, which Dick ignored. So he'd heard of them, go figure. "During one of the shows one day, the lines for the trapeze snapped...they fell to their deaths. I watched the whole thing," his explained darkly, flashing back and seeing the look of terror on his mother's face as she fell. "I remember crying all night...I remember not eating for days and telling Haley I didn't want to perform anymore. I remember it like it happened yesterday."

"I was there," Tim squeaked, curling in on himself and appearing smaller than usual to Dick.

"What?"

"I was there," he repeated. "I saw everything, I- oh my god, why didn't I recognize you?" he rocked himself back and forth with his eyes bugged out like crazy. "You did a quadruple flip, just for me... I asked you before the show," he murmured softly, not meeting Dick's eyes. Dick, however, stared in horror at the boy.

"You-..." Holy god. "You're-..." Tim flinched away as Dick scrambled for something to say. "You were...a lot smaller back then," Dick commented with a forced smile, remembering now all too clearly. Tim looked up at him in disbelief.

"You're not- why aren't you freaking out?" he asked in awe.

"Should I be? I spent enough time freaking out back then and every day since. I feel like the novelty's worn off," Dick lied, hiding the tremble in his voice. This boy was there when his parents died...he saw everything. He knows. He understands. They were friends. How the fuck does a person deal with that?

"Oh," Tim nodded gently. "I- I'm so sor-"

"Don't," Dick interrupted and held up a hand to stop him. "Don't do that. It's long since history, alright?" Tim blinked and nodded swiftly.

"Alright, sorry, I just-..." he cleared his throat. "What happened to you?"

Dick grimaced and reached up to scratch his head. "That's the fun part of the story, actually," he began darkly. "Once my parents were gone, I was a useless mess; Hayley sold me to the Court of Owls."

"The...what?" Tim shook his head and blinked through the confusion, obviously never having heard of it.

"The Court of Owls," Dick repeated dully, pulling one knee up to rest his chin on. "A top secret organization. I don't really know what they do, to be honest," Dick frowned thoughtfully. "All I know is they tortured me...every single day for over a decade...and taught me how to kill...how not to feel anything...how to become this," he gestured to himself, trying to hide the disgust. This was getting out of hand, he shouldn't be talking about this.

"What? What...what'd they do to you?" Tim asked skeptically.

"Everything," Dick muttered, glaring hard at nothing. "Name it; beatings, starvation, sleep deprivation, sensory deprivation, water boarding, genetic mutation, forcing me to watch as they mutilated innocent men, women and children and then making me do it," he listed, trying not to remember their screams.

"You- you actually-"

"You knew what I was when you got into this," Dick snapped coolly. "Of course I did it; otherwise, they'd do the same thing to me. Only, they healed me afterwards and threatened to do it all again if I didn't comply," he spat. "I did horrible things to countless people and I had nightmares every single day. I didn't have a choice, this is what I was made to become," he growled dangerously. Tim visibly swallowed and said nothing. Dick took the chance to take a deep breath and steady his heart rate; calm. He needed to calm down. Everything happened for a reason; it was terrible, but if he wanted the nightmares to stay away, he had to remain cold. Nothing mattered; everyone dies eventually. This was who he was; never feeling, never caring, only obedient and merciless. Forget this memory bullshit. Forget Tim Drake. Forget his parents. Just relay the information like promised and make sure Tim Drake never lived to tell the story later.

"That was all years ago," Talon continued coolly, flattening his tone and stretching out to crack his neck. "Now I can see in the dark, I can heal almost as soon as I get injured, and I'm literally the best assassin in the world," he hummed. "Talons always are. There's been generations of us and the world has never even noticed. How cool, huh?"

"You don't want revenge?" Tim asked suddenly, his face unreadable, but his eyes screamed in disbelief. "For what they did to you...you don't want revenge?"

Dick stopped dead. Revenge? No. No, no, no- He felt his limbs start to twitch almost electrically and his mind start to race. He couldn't, he couldn't...they'd destroy him if he even dared. Of course he wanted revenge, but he knew what they'd do. No...he couldn't. He can't.

"No."

Tim exhaled and closed his eyes almost sadly. The poor thing pitied him.

"Right...of course," Tim looked back up with a blank, unreadable expression. "And you know nothing of the Court of Owls other than what they did to you?"

"Yep, that's right hot stuff," Dick smiled dangerously.

"Not even where they are?"

Dick's yellow eye twitched and he clenched his teeth. "Don't you dare ask me that," he hissed threateningly. Tim shut up and actually obliged him for once, lucky for him.

"Anything else you'd like to know?" he asked the boy sweetly, making Tim squirm just a little.

"What happens when you fail a mission?" he asked quietly. "When you don't kill who they want you to?"

Dick stilled and the fake smile melted right off his face. "Can't say. I've never failed," he replied darkly. "They'll either 're-educate' me...torture me and teach me a lesson, or...I'll be out of a job," he hinted subtly. Tim winced and nodded.

"Anything else, or are we done here?" he asked, hoping that Tim realized the question was rhetorical this time.

"No," Tim shook his head quietly. "No, I-...I'm good."

"Same time next week, then, hot stuff?" The change in tone was so instantaneous, it made Dick's head spin. But at least it wasn't sullen and dark anymore. Well...darker than normal, anyway.

Tim forced a smile and coughed out a laugh. "Yeah...yeah...sure thing."

...

Three hours later, Dick was flying.

He was unseen across the rooftops as he just raced across the entire city. He had been raging since Tim left; he had destroyed the hotel room and accidentally (well, maybe on purpose) behead the angry manager who dared to bang on the door and demand that he leave since he was disturbing the other guests.

Fuck Tim for making him go back into the past. Fuck Tim for making him talk. That should have been Tim's head rolling on the carpet.

Well, he reminded himself as he twirled off the edge of a rooftop and landed perfectly on the ground before leaping up to another balcony; he did agree to it, to be fair. It wasn't entirely Tim's fault.

Jesus...

The whole thing made him want to rip someone's throat out or tear something to shreds. He needed to do something, goddamn it, and if that meant flying until he was out of breath and his muscles stung, then so be it. Too bad two and a half hours on the run couldn't do that anymore.

He needed to kill...he needed some kind of thrill, he needed to get his mind back... He needed...

Oh, god, he was in the warehouse district now. He could see the docks less than a mile away; he could see little flashes of lights and hear disgruntled murmurs far below. Tim said Hood had a some kind of deal going on tonight, right?

That meant Hood was here somewhere. That meant the game was on; he could get Hood to play with him.

Immediately, Talon was off creeping and crawling silently through the night. His heart was pounding almost violently in his chest and the excited electricity in his veins was almost maddening. Two more blocks to go...

One more block...

He knew the men couldn't see him, because he blended in with the darkness, but he liked to play in the shadows of a large roof anyway, just for kicks. He could see three men below, centered between two trailer trucks with the ass ends facing each other. There were other men scattered around - guards of some kind for the heavy lifting, he supposed - but the three men in the middle seemed to be the ones deep in a debate.

"Twenty thousand, Mikey, that was the deal."

"I changed my mind. Sixty grand or we walk."

"You know I don't decide that. Hood only gave me twenty-"

Dick scoffed to himself. How petty and predictable.

"Tell you what boys," he grinned, dropping gracefully down to the ground. He could hear dozens and dozens of guns cocking and pointing directly at him. "Here's the new deal; you give your goodies to me and I kill you all for free."

He heard laughter from one of the men standing in the center. He was a fat piece of shit with a thick mustache covering up his mouth to accent his beady eyes. "Look, Donnie, we got a joker."

"Pretty one too, ain't 'e?" his partner, a sickly pale and skinny man with a ratty face and a comb over snickered. "What d'ya say we teach 'im a lesson and put 'im in the truck. 'e'D sell as high as dem girls back home!"

Dick arched a brow and smirked dangerously. "I'm flattered, really. But I'm afraid I'm too high quality for your grubby, disgusting little hands," he smiled smoothly. Both of the men snarled at him, making Dick laugh as he stepped forward. "Go on. Bring it," he dared. The second one of them tried to grab him, Dick's blade was out and the man's hand was severed on the ground and blood was seeping everywhere while the fatso screamed. Dick quickly put a stop to that by shoving his dagger into the man's trachea and dropping him to the ground, choking on his own blood.

Comb-over was next with a slice to the gut and a quick snap to the neck. The third man had already bailed, and Talon really didn't care to go after him; all he cared about was to use Comb-over as a shield from the bullets while he slayed each and every one of the gunmen shooting at him.

He had gotten to four of them before the last eight seemed to come to their senses and start running for their lives. By that time, Talon was absolutely lost in bloodlust. He bared his teeth before launching himself at his seventh victim. Before the man could so much as scream, however, Dick felt someone grab his collar and yank him off violently. Another gunman, it turned out, who now had his AK-47 pointed directly over Talon's face. Talon twisted out and kicked the man's feet out from under him. Before he could protest, Dick was slamming his head into the ground mercilessly until the feet stopped kicking and maybe even a little after that.

Jesus...he'd never raged enough for an overkill like this, he mused to himself, panting as he rose to his feet. He could barely hear the others as they ran for their lives through the alleys of the warehouses back the way he came. Should he chase them down? Did he care enough?

Before he could decide, however, he heard heavy treading footsteps coming toward him. Not frantic ones trying to escape, but sure footed and steady; someone who was unafraid. Dick smiled and sighed almost blissfully as he turned around.

"I was so hoping to see you," he smiled cheerfully over the lifeless corpse below him.

"It's been a while," Hood retorted coolly, just as dangerous and guarded as the first night. "I was wondering when I'd see you again. I have to admit... I didn't picture it like this."

"Like what? Didn't think I was capable of killing?" he played flirtatiously.

"Didn't think you were capable of losing it. You were sloppy," Hood tsked almost sadly, shaking his head. Dick froze and blinked while a cold feeling clenched in his chest. He took another look around at the seven dead bodies strewn across the gravel, with blood streaked across the walls and seeping around everywhere beside the broken bodies. It was...a mess.

"It looks like you had a tantrum," Hood audibly smirked. Dick would give anything to punch the look off his face, if only he could see it.

"Give me a break, it's been a rough day," Dick rolled his eyes. "Keep antagonizing me, I can go for an eighth."

Hood laughed and crossed his arms. "So how'd you know?" his voice cut through the air statically. "This was a private exchange. How did you find us?"

Shit.

"I was running around and I came across those idiots arguing and thought I'd let off some steam," he shrugged passively. It was mostly truthful, though, right?

Hood hummed and cocked his head to the side thoughtfully. "So you going to kill me now or are we just dancing again tonight?" Dick smirked, dropping his weapons to show a truce before prancing gracefully step by step until he was directly in front of Red Hood.

"Actually, I wouldn't mind a dance, hot stuff," he purred, daring to press a leg between Hood's thighs and breathe down his neck hotly. Hood stiffened and he could feel the man clutch his gun in its holster.

"Now, now, calm down," he murmured, sliding his hands down Hood's sides to take the gun and drop it to the side. "I don't want to kill you tonight," he whispered softly as electricity flooded through his veins in excitement. How long had he had to listen to Tim's stories about Hood fucking him so good he couldn't walk? It felt like too long now; it felt like the perfect solution to this madness. "Maybe next time, but tonight I just wanna get fucked and go home. Pretty please?"

He could hear Hood's breath become shallow and slightly uneven. "You want me to fuck you?" he repeated in disbelief, though not unwillingness that Dick could tell.

"Hard and fast," Dick nodded, rolling his hips against Hood's, where unmistakable proof was that Hood was considering. "On the ground, against the alley wall, wherever you'd like," he purred pleadingly, kissing the sliver of bare skin underneath the Hood's helmet. "Come on...from one killer to another," he grinned. "You have my word I won't take your life tonight. Just your cock," he grinned. Plus he kind of already promised the little shit who's working for him, so Hood had to stay alive just for tonight.

He could hear the man smirk inside the mask before shoving Dick back into a dark alley between warehouses and pressing him against the wall beside three large crates. "You really want to do this?" Hood asked him sternly. Dick snickered and grabbed his hand, leading it seamlessly down to press between his own legs to show just how hard he was right now.

"Fuck me already, will you?" Dick commanded between ragged breaths, pressing his hips needily into Hood's palm. Hood only hesitated for a second before pulling back and pressing the release on his helmet and yanking it off. Dick honestly wasn't expecting that; he sucked in a sharp breath and was only slightly disappointed at the bright red domino mask blocking what he knew to be green eyes. Otherwise, the face was chiseled and hard cut just like Tim said it was, with dark hair hot enough to rival his own.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath before crashing their lips together, almost devouring one another as the helmet clattered forgotten to the ground beside them.

Hood tasted like smoke, whiskey and something sweet, which made Dick press deeper for more. Hood uttered a muffled laugh against Dick's lips and jerked Dick's hips forward eagerly, squeezing his ass and groaning as he did so. Dick smirked when Hood squeezed it again, realizing how perfect it was. Dick was highly aware of just how perfect his ass was; Tim just never got a chance to appreciate it because he was obviously a bottom. It made his cock twitch now that Hood could appraise it and fuck it properly.

Immediately, Dick squirmed and turned around so that his front was pressed against the wall and his back was pressed against Hood's front. He could feel Hood's hardness so he took it upon himself to grind his ass against it greedily. Hood thrusted against him roughly before reaching around and almost ripping the fly open so he could yank the pants down ferally. In less than a second he heard Hood unzip his own pants and shuddered when he felt the warmth of the man's cock between his legs.

Dick bent over enough to arch his back and press against him in wait.

Hood, however, was far more generous than he expected once again. He heard a brief sucking sound before he felt two fingers suddenly pressed inside him, stretching and preparing him. Dick moaned and rocked his hips in time with the digits; he definitely missed this feeling. It's been way too long since he's been fucked like this and he couldn't wait to have the real thing pounding inside him.

Hood's breath was shallow and ragged against his back and his teeth were deliciously sharp on his skin. Before Dick knew it, the third and fourth finger had come and gone, and now Hood was pressing inside him and Dick was crying out pleas and curses against the cold metal walls. No wonder Hood had taken the time to stretch him, he could already feel this man was huge.

Jesus, Tim was lucky.

"Oh, god, oh fuck," Dick whimpered, thrusting his own hips back to take the man in more. "Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," he chanted taking himself in hand and jacking hard and rough in time with Hood's new pace. His fingers were digging into his hips just right and if he just adjusted a little bit to the right-

"Oh god, oh yeah," Dick cried out. Hood thrusted into him ecstatically, Dick matched him pace for pace; it felt so fucking good when he climaxed that he didn't even care that he face was scraped against the cold metal wall or that Hood spilled his load inside him. This is exactly what he needed, he realized as Hood pulled out and tucked himself away.

Dick took a moment to come down from his high before stretching out and eventually pulling his own pants back up too.

"Mm, thanks hot stuff," he grinned hazily as he turned around. He could hear Hood smirk, but his Hood was already back on, so he couldn't see it. "We should do that again before I actually have to kill you."

Hood laughed at that and shook his head. "Don't count on it, sweet cheeks," he retorted before turning to walk away. "Oh, and..." he turned around pulling out a small silver dagger- Dick's dagger, he realized as he patted its empty holster. He must have dropped it on his rampage earlier...shit. "Thanks for the souvenir."

"You son of a-" but Hood was already gone.

"Alright," Dick sucked on his tongue haughtily for a moment before smirking. "Fine. We'll see about that."