Mistake

Damian listened to Grayson's voice on the other end of the communicator in annoyance. "Drake got himself what?" He asked incredolously after a moment. His displeasure becoming apparent.

"It's called Sex Pollen, Damian. Lots of the villains here like to use it now. Poison Ivy being the number one. Tim had a run in with her earlier and got injured, but I didn't do any blood tests because he said he was fine. But now he's out in Gotham, running around on Sex Pollen."

Damian made a disgusted face. "What does this stuff do, exactly?"

Dick, not wanting to explain the birds and bees, said, "He's not in his right mind."

Damian nodded, though Grayson couldn't see it. "Okay. I'll contact you if I see anything." Then, he hung up. He turned, ready to launch a grappling gun at a higher building so that he could start looking for Drake, but stopped short once he saw that he wasn't alone on the rooftop.

Drake smirked at him, coming out of the shadows, twirling his bo staff dangerously. "Hello, Damian."

Damian regarded Drake hesitantly. When Dick said that Drake was not in his right mind, he hadn't expected this. The look on Drake's face, though it was cowled, was foreign, and the way he swaggered up to Damian was out of place. Damian took a step back. "Drake." He greeted shortly. "Grayson spoke to me about the drug you're on-"

He was cut off when Drake grabbed him roughly by the shoulders and pulled him forward, slamming their lips together. Damian's eyes went wide and his hands flew up, knocking Drake backwards. He wiped his mouth on his arm, spitting and choking in disgust. "Fuck! What the hell was that?" He coughed violently, feeling disbelief in the fact that Drake had just kissed him.

Drake just smirked, standing up quickly. "I wanna do something, Damian. Don't you? Let's experiment."

"Fuck! Gross! No! I'm calling Grayson! He can deal with you!" Damian grabbed the communicator out, but Drake easily knocked it out of his hands with the bo staff. Damian backed up a little as Drake walked towards him. "Drake, you come near me and I'll-"

Tim lunged at him, not caring the Damian had whipped out a batarang and sliced him on the upper bicep. He easily used his bigger build against Damian and pinned the ten year old down before removing his belt and throwing it a distance aways. Damian opened his mouth to swear profusely, but Drake smacked him in the side of the face with his bo staff. "Quiet." Drake ordered, pinning his wrists painfully above Damian's head. He took a spare grappling gun out and managed to take it apart, using the cord in it to tie Damian's hands together.

"Drake, get the fuck off of me!" Damian swore, bucking his hips once the shock of being hit in the face had worn off.

Drake smirked leaning forward. "You can't make me. You're completely helpless right now."

Then he to out a batarang, holding it at an angle to that Damian could see and held it in front of his face. "Say another word, besides my name, and I'll cut you open."

Damian's eyes widened behind his mask, seeing that Drake was being completely serious about it.

Drake smirked down at him before tugging Damian's leggings down, causing the younger boy to squirm again, "What the fuck?" He hissed in pain as the batarang was swiftly used to cut through the kevlar padding and dig into his skin before being dragged down slowly.

"Only my name, Damian." Drake reminded before pulling the batarang out of the padding and tugging down Damian's cotton boxers. Damian glared defiantly through his mask, though he was trembling slightly, fearing what would come next.

Drake pulled his own leggings down, revealing the bulge in his boxers before pulling those down too. He leaned forward, smirking. "I'm gonna fuck you, now, little bird."

Then, all too quickly, Damian's body and mind was filled with the white hot pain of Drake's member being shoved up his ass. He grit his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut as tears of pain leaked out. Slowly, feeling dulled, but was still there, and Damian opened his eyes to stare up at Drake. Drake was smirking, rubbing the back of his hand on Damian's face. "Shush, shush, Damian." He smirked. "Don't cry. It'll feel good."

Damian hissed as Drake shifted. "F-F-Fuck..." He stuttered, his breath hitching in his throat.

Drake frowned, producing the batarang again and bring it down, slicing shallowly into Damian's right cheek, making the boy whimper pathetically. "Only my name." Then, he began to erratically thrust in and out of Damian, causing the boy to choke out a scream.

"Feels good, doesn't it, little D?" Drake used Dick's nickname for Damian as continued to thrust painfully into him. "Your tight, but it's nice."

Damian broke down, beginning to sob pathetically. "Get off of me, Drake...Get off of me. I want you off."

Drake ignored him, thrusting deeper inside of him. Damian's back began to dig painfully into the rooftop. Drake suddenly stilled, twitching inside of Damian. "D-Damian I-I'm g-gonna..."

Damian was suddenly filled with something warm and sticky. Drake slid out of him, pulling his own underwear and leggings up as he stood, examining Damian on the rooftop. He felt pleased, but a bit dizzy, as if he some cloud wa lifting off of his mind.

He blinked rapidly as the drug left his system, leaving him a bit woozy and with no recollection of the past few hours. He blinked, hearing small whimpers and smothered sobs before looking down.

Tim's gasped at the sight of Robin on the ground, half naked, tied up, and shying away from him, sobbing openly. Tim bent down. "Damian?" He questioned, swiftly pulling Damian's boxers and leggings up. "What happened?" He untied Damian's wrists, frowning when he realized it was a grappling cord.

"Y-You don't remember?" Damian stuttered, sitting up and scooting away from him, though it hurt him sore bottom.

"Remember what?" Tim asked, spotting blood and a questionable liquid on the rooftop.

"Y-You hurt me, Tim." Damian gasped out. "That h-hurt."

This is a challenge drabble. Someone, finish it, but please tell me that you've made a story out of it, I wanna read it!