Summary: Ollie's a horndog. Tim's a sexy little freak who
likes older men. What do you think happens?
There was wrong, and there was Wrong, and there was WRONG! Capitol
letters, bold type, underlined, go straight to hell, do not collect
Ollie knew without a doubt, his current activity fell into the latter
He was kissing the shit out of Robin. And it was all Batman's fault.
They had bonded, Robin and he, in commiseration over what an
unmitigated ass Bruce was, is, and ever shall be.
As the GCPD hauled away the battered and bruised gang members Green
Arrow had been tracking since Star City, the old guard and the new,
crouched on a Gotham rooftop and swapped 'Isn't the Bat a bastard'
Not having had much exposure to this Robin in the past, Ollie quickly
found himself warming to him. Like the Bat, he was a pretty scary
dude, but unlike the Bat, Robin's darkness was offset by a killer wit,
and an occasionally wicked tongue. Of course, if Ollie had had any idea
of just how truly wicked that tongue could be, especially when applied
parts of his anatomy, he would have probably hauled ass back to his
side of the continent.
But, then he wouldn't have this sweet, sinful, succulent little
sidekick writhing around in his lap.
It had seemed innocent. Their conversation had evolved into shop talk,
and Robin had invited Ollie back to his place to see some of their
latest developments in non-lethal kick ass tech. Everyone knew the
Batclan had all the coolest toys, how could he pass it up?
Robin's hands paused above Ollie's crotch. "Do you need to disarm
"On your costume? Do you need to turn off any defenses."
Many varied responses flew through Ollie's head, and most were of the
tacky and tasteless variety (well, I do have a weapon, and it's
loaded), but in the end he just settled for, "God, you lot are creepy."
Robin grinned, and in that instant he looked like an unholy cross
between Batman and Nightwing.
The kid lowered his head, and... Yep. Ollie was going straight to hell.
But the ride there was sure going to be fun.