Robin lurked in the shadows, hidden by darkness while standing in the alley. It was nearing midnight that night, and he'd decided - after about six drinks - he wouldn't let himself feel this way. He's get over the pain of the break up and move on. And what better way than rough, hot, sweaty, one-sided sex?

His eyes lit up when he spotted a girl walking down the street. All alone, he thought, smirking. The girl looked fearful, head snapping to the left, and then to the right. Robin was able to see her eyes were huge, wide, shining with… something. He was too drunk to read emotions at the time. He crouched against the wall as those bright blue eyes snapped in his direction.

"Hello?" Was the kid stupid? She stood at the corner to the entrance of the alley, eyes peaking around to look at Robin. He stood, acting as though he'd done up his shoelaces.

"Ah, hello." He plastered a tight smile on his face, as plastered-looking as he had been from drinking. "What brings you to me at this time of night, young one?" Sure, she looked fourteen, but it was still young to his twenty-four. Plus, she was small.

"Um… I just got out of a book reading," she muttered, looking up at him with those eyes. "I… should be getting home…"

"Aw, where's the fun in that?" With drunken strength, Robin wound his arms around the girl's waist, swinging her around to press her back against the dirty brick wall.

"I really should… go…" She tried weakly pushing at his chest as he nibbled her neck. He heard her gasp and shudder.

"Do you like this?" He asked, biting her neck harder, and gripping her hips forcefully.

"N-no!" She cried.

"How about… this?" Robin dragged his tongue along her neck, tasting the perfume she's sprayed earlier on in the night.

"N-… Ah!" He bit her shoulder, moving the black strap of the tank top out of the way. His hands moved to grip her ass, slipping up into the short skirt. "Do-… Do that again…" He suddenly heard in a breathy whisper. Snapping his head back confusedly, Robin blinked down at her. She was panting and… smiling?! What the fuck was this hippy shit?!

"Please!" She cried, pushing down onto his hands.

"What? This?" With wonder he slipped his fingers between, moving towards the heat. She cried out again, tears streaming down her cheeks, smiling. With horror, Robin withdrew his fingers, staring down at her, mouth agape.

"You… you're enjoying this?!" He asked, nearly fainting when she nodded, eyes meeting his. "This is supposed to be a rape!" He yelled, slamming her against the wall, moving his hand between her thighs. He was angry because things turned out different from what he had planned. Quickly, and with much force, he moved his hand up her skirt, into her silky panties, only to…

To cup a raging hard on.

"Gah!!!" Robin yelled, withdrawing his hand. "What's wrong with you!?" He yelled down at the smirking, newly discovered, boy. "First, you come along, all naïve and shit, then you say no, and then you enjoyed it and now… You dress in drag!?" The boy pouted.

"Now, that's not nice." He flipped his hair, kissing the still stunned Robin. "I don't like calling it drag. I call it being myself. And can I help if I like it rough?"

Robin narrowed his eyes at the boy, knowing he was taking great joy in his discomfort. With a growl, he shoved his hand down the boy's panties once again, grasping him forcefully. "I'll show you rough," he whispered into his ear.

Robin's Note: Ah, rape. Control for some, hell for another. I was reading a rape story and it inspired me to write my own. Tell me how shitty I did, please. I thought it was funny.