Disclaimer: If I owned Teen Titans, DC Comics would crucify me and then stone me to death. So I don't own

Summary: —Alternate Universe— Robin, a young, teenage prostitute, befriends the famous Slade Wilson of Gotham City in a very strange circumstance. Could there possibly be love in their future?

So blame Wynja for this story XD One of her drabbles was of prostitution where Slade is paying Robin to have sex with him. So I came up with this fluff story for Sladin. Other characters will be in it too—Brother Blood, Terra, and a bunch of Titan villains that aren't villains; confusing ain't it?—I rarely write stories like this—the other one being The Real How Long is Forever? story. Writing angst and Slade being an evil dickhead is what I prefer but every once in a while I have to make it where he's a wonderful, nice guy ;] The other Titans won't be in it for a while—there'll be more to this story than you think; maybe I should hush so I don't leave you too in suspense XD— This is also an AU—Alternate Universe—story, so I hope you'll like it at least a lil bit ;] So enjoy!

SladinForever


When he was only eight, a tragedy happened. They had died right before his eyes as they hit the floor. He had no one else to go to. So he ran, ran away from that dreaded place. For a year he was on the streets, unable to find a home or good shelter. Rarely did he find a homeless shelter in the destroyed city of Gotham. They could never get good funding, leaving many people out on the streets, alone and possibly dying. When he was nine, he discovered one thing that could give him money to survive in the treacherous world.

The first four to five times were painful, but worth it. He wasn't sure how much cash he was earning. School wasn't in his schedule much before his parents died. He had some trouble with basic math and couldn't read well. After hearing people speak certain words, he knew what kind of food to order at a McDonalds or a Burger King, what was safe to drink, and how to get somewhere. He could speak just fine but reading wasn't his strong point. In fact, he couldn't read very well at all. But that was okay; he could do a lot of other, more important things just fine.

His world was pretty much the same for a while: eat, sleep, work, eat, and sleep some more. But soon his world, and his way of life, was about to change…

Six and a Half Years Later…

"It's a gloomy day in Gotham City today. Winter is just around the corner! I hope all of you will be safe and warm the rest of the year as the temperatures start to drop to the mid-to-late fifties—"

A fifteen-year-old boy with black hair and dark blue eyes was walking down the sidewalk on the left side of the street instead of the right. The streets were deserted but the curbs had cars parked on both sides. It was the middle of the afternoon and warm. It was fairly cloudy but dry. Smoke was rising from the manholes and asphalt. The blue of the sky was barely peeking through the heavy cloud cover. In just a few hours it would be dark and cold. Luckily, the teen had layers of clothing on. He wore a few T-shirts, thick, baggy blue jeans, and slightly holed shoes with thick wool socks. The bottoms of the leggings covered most of the shoe where only the toes to halfway up were visible. His hands were stuffed in his jean pockets. The teen was alone for a few more minutes on that lonely stretch of sidewalk before a limping, drunk-looking man wearing shabby clothes approached him on the same sidewalk, a hand rubbing angrily at his eyes. The boy expected him to keep on walking but as he started to move diagonally, he knew this wasn't the case. The boy was walking in a slight limp. He still needed a few days off from his last job. The man stopped him by a long, black car.

"Well aren't you a pretty little boy," the man said with a hiccup. The boy stared at the man with sullen, tired eyes. "How much to do you, huh?"

The teen softly glared at the man. "I'm not serving anyone today, especially not from a guy like you. Now get out of my way."

The boy tried to pass the man, but he grabbed his shoulder and shoved him against the car. He chuckled drunkenly.

"Oh come on. Prostitutes don't take days off. Now how much?"

The boy growled lightly. "Get your hand off me."

"Just let me fucking pay ya, you brat."

"Go fuck a porcupine, asshole!"

The boy tried to push the man away but he was just too strong, especially since he was angry now. They hardly noticed the door behind the man swing open. A leg clad in a black business shoe and business pants came out of the interior.

"Just let me bury my cock inside of you for one minute and then I'll-"

A strong hand landed on the man's shoulder, making him stop in surprise. The teen looked up to see a six-foot man with unruly, white hair and one blind, steel blue eye standing behind him. He was dressed in a black business suit and loose tie. The teen swallowed, surprised to actually meet a man like this: muscular, tall, and handsome despite the hair and scar over the ruined eye. And then his voice as he spoke made the boy want to melt like butter on a hot summer day.

"It is obvious you are too stupid to know the phrase "can deny any customer service"." He pushed the man away with his hand before turning to him. "Get out of my sight." Snorting, the man turned and ran down the sidewalk. The man from the car—or more commonly called a limo—stared after him a few seconds before turning his strong gaze on the teen. The boy quickly looked away, not knowing if he was going to take him to the police; he wasn't aware of any non-prostitution law in the city. After a few seconds of observation, the man said, "Get in the car."

The teen whipped his head around to look at him. He looked between the opened door and the man a few times before nodding and walking past him. After getting in the wide back seat of the limo, the man followed suit, shutting the door behind him as he sat across from him. They were silent for a few seconds.

"Um…thank you for helping me," the boy said nervously, not looking at the man. A small tinted window behind the teen's head suddenly opened, revealing the driver behind it. He also had white hair and spoke with an old, British accent.

"Where to now sir?"

"945766 Harbor Street, Wintergreen," the man said.

"Right away, Mr. Wilson."

The window rolled back up. The teen jumped slightly when the limo started and began pulling out of its parking space. Looking out the window, he watched as the buildings and cars zoomed on by.

"What's your name, boy?"

The teen quickly looked at the man. "R-Richard."

"And how old are you, Richard?"

"Fifteen."

Richard stiffened when the man moved. Gripping a handle, he pulled on it to reveal a mini-fridge built into the car.

"Would you like a soda?" he asked, looking at his tiny selection.

Richard relaxed and then said, "Yes, please."

"Coke, grape, or orange?"

Richard blinked a few times. Was this man for real? "Grape, please."

Wilson pulled out a can of grape soda and then closed the door as he handed the can to him. Richard graciously took it and popped the tab. Opening the can, he put the aluminum to his lips and then tilted it back to take a gulp. The man sat back, folding his arms over his chest.

"How long have you been a prostitute, Richard?"

Richard almost choked on his next gulp. He cleared his throat before answering the sudden question. "S-Since I was nine," he said, becoming worried again. His hands gripped the can tightly. "Are you taking me to the police?"

Wilson shook his head. "No, I am taking you home with me. My name is Slade Wilson. You look like you could use some reprieve." The limo soon pulled up to a skyscraper apartment building. "Let's go."

Slade opened the door and began to step out. Richard followed after him, practically hitting his head on the low ceiling. He smoothed his hair down as he stood up straight.

"I appreciate the help and the soda," Richard said, "but I'll be fine."

Richard's stomach suddenly growled angrily. He looked down at it with wide eyes. Slade snorted.

"I beg to differ."

The driver door opened. Wintergreen looked over the top of the limo. "Sir, what is the agenda for tonight?"

Slade and Richard both turned to his driver.

"Go get some dinner Wintergreen," Slade said. "I need to be picked up two and a half hours from now. Then you can have the rest of the night off. I'll just get a taxi."

"Yes, Mr. Wilson. I will return shortly."

"See you then, my friend," Slade said. Wintergreen got back in the limo and then drove away. "Richard." Richard looked over at him. "Come inside."

Turning around, Slade headed for the large, glass doors into the building. Richard followed him, not realizing where they were actually going. His eyes widened the closer they got to the skyscraper. He craned his head up to see just how high it went. Getting slightly dizzy, he looked back down and followed behind Slade.

"Evenin' Mr. Wilson," the skinny hotel greeter said as they approached. "Who's the lil ducky?"

"This is Richard, Maddy," Slade said as they stopped. "He'll be staying with me for a few days."

"Well have a great stay then."

Richard nodded and followed closely behind Slade, thinking Maddy was some kind of crazy man from Britain that would snatch him up. Kidnapping was not his thing. They entered the large lobby, heading for a few elevators. Slade pushed the up button. After a few seconds the door slowly slid open. Slade stepped in. After a few seconds hesitation, Richard walked in and turned around to stand beside him. He sipped his soda as Slade pushed the sixtieth floor button. It lit up and then jerked to life. The elevator was silent the entire ride up to floor sixty. The door opened and Slade walked out. Richard followed him. For a minute they walked down the hallway to door five hundred and fifty-seven. Wilson pulled out a key and inserted it into the lock. They walked in, the boy stopping and almost dropping his can as he saw the inside of the large room.

The second he walked in, the living room with its wood floors was the first thing he saw. There was a giant flat screen TV on the wall opposite a brown, pull-out bed couch, which had a glass coffee table in front of it. The table could go into a floor board with just the push of a button. From there, was a large, visible kitchen and dining room. The dining room had a small brown table with two chairs. There was a large stove and oven with white marble counters. A tall, steel refrigerator sat across from the sink. The floor was made of shiny linoleum and large windows covered most of the walls. To the left was a hallway that led into the single, large bedroom.

Slade walked over to the fridge and pulled it open to look at its contents. Richard came out of his shocked state when he asked, "What do you usually eat, Richard?"

Richard blinked a few times before shaking his head. "Erm…pizza or a cheeseburger whenever I can. I don't always eat during the day; trying to save most of my earnings." Richard walked farther in, looking around. "You really live here?"

Slade pulled out a Tupperware container from the bottom shelf. Turning to the long island in the middle of the kitchen, he set it down and took off the lid.

"I own this skyscraper actually," he said, going to one of the cupboards. Taking down a plate, he closed the door and returned to the Tupperware. He dumped mashed potatoes and half a piece of steak on the plate. "I own about half of this city's businesses actually. Please sit." Nodding, Richard went to the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down. He placed his can down while still holding it. "Being a lawmaker, I allowed your line of work to happen here. Though now I'm thinking of adding in an age limit."

Richard scratched his left temple gently with his pointer finger. Slade heated up the leftovers in the microwave. After grabbing a fork half a minute later, the timer went off. He grabbed the plate after opening the door and then went over to Richard's side. After setting the plate in front of him, Slade grabbed a napkin and set it next to him. Richard picked up his fork and began scarfing down his mashed potatoes. Slade set the empty Tupperware in the sink and then ran hot water through it. Richard stabbed the steak with his fork and then lifted the entire thing to his mouth. Placing the end in the right side of his mouth, he dug his canines into the tough meat and began to grind and pull. Pulling a chunk off, he sucked it into his mouth and began to chew.

"This is really good," he said with his eyes closed. "What is it?"

Slade turned his gaze on him. "You have never had steak before?" he asked, going back to the fridge.

"Nope."

Slade pulled out a bottle of coke and yanked off the top. The fizzing sound leaked out before he put it to his lips and took a gulp. "I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. Prostitutes hardly eat anything fancy."

"Well duh," Richard said before taking another bite.

"Where are your parents anyway?" Slade asked, sitting in the other chair.

Richard swallowed his bite, suddenly not feeling so hungry anymore. He set his fork down. "They're dead," he said quietly. Picking up his can, Richard finished his grape soda. "Been gone ever since I was eight."

The room became quiet. Richard stared down at his hands in his lap.

"Do you have any other family?" Slade asked a minute later. Richard shook his head. "How did you discover prostitution?"

Richard looked up at him with slightly wide eyes, not expecting this question. No one had ever asked him that in the past. "After being on the streets for a little over a year, some recently divorced man found me and said he would pay me if I did something with him. I had been stealing for a long time and decided that money was money, so I let the man take me to a deserted hotel room to show me what he wanted. After he explained what a prostitute was, I decided that it was the job for me. The first few times were painful, but I got used to it pretty fast. Been having sex with men ever since."

"Only men?"

"Yeah. I guess they find me attractive or something."

"Yes, I suppose it's your eyes," Slade said. "They're a rare shade of blue."

Richard smiled softly. "Well, so is yours."

Slade snorted quietly before standing up and taking his empty can and plate. After throwing the last few bites away, he washed the dishes and then dried them to put them away. He then returned to Richard's side.

"Your hair is very oily. Would you like a bath?"

Richard's face seemed to light up. "Oh, yes, please."

"Come with me then."

Richard got up and followed Slade towards the bedroom. The floor was covered in soft, black carpet. A king-sized bed with a black cover sat in the middle of the room against the back wall. To the right was a bathroom and four large windows that looked out at the city. On the left was a closet and dresser. Slade entered the bathroom, turned on the heat light, and then went to the tub to turn on the water. Richard glanced around the room, liking the place a lot. It had a nice, warm, cozy feel to it somehow. Once the tub was filled with steaming hot water, Slade walked over to his closet and opened the door. He took out a fluffy black towel and then handed it to Richard. He then explained where everything was and then left him to it.

Closing the door behind him, Richard set the towel on the sink counter before beginning to remove his three T-shirts. He threw them to the floor, revealing a pale chest and stomach underneath. He was almost nothing but skin and bones. His body was very thin for his age. Once fully nude, Richard slowly stepped in the tub and then lowered his body down. The water went up to his ribcage as he sat up straight. A loud, content sigh escaped him when he felt the soothing heat warm his body. Leaning back, he bathed in the heat, feeling better and better every second.

After taking an hour long bath, Richard used the bathroom and then began drying his hair. He wrapped the towel around his head a few seconds later, throwing the twisted part above his head. He grabbed his underwear and slipped them back on. Grabbing his shirts and jeans, he left the bathroom. Richard sat on the edge of the bed, setting his stuff beside him. Slade came in a few seconds later as he was trying to slip one of his shirts over the towel. Shaking his head, Slade took the shirt away forcefully, making Richard jump slightly. His savior was very silent.

"It will be a bit big on your tiny frame, but it will be clean," Slade said as he walked to his dresser and rummaged through it. He pulled out a large, dark blue shirt with the word ARMY on the back. He gave it to Richard. "Once you're dressed, you can watch TV or take a nap on the couch." Taking the towel off his head, Richard pulled the baggy shirt over his head. It slid down his slender frame, reaching halfway to his knees. "I have to leave soon for my dinner appointment. I want to make sure you're comfortable before I am gone."

Richard stood up. "Yes sir."

"And don't call me that," Slade said, taking his dirty clothes and towel. He headed out of the room, Richard following behind him. "I will wash your clothes while I'm gone." Reaching the table, Slade picked up the remote and handed it to Richard. He explained what the buttons were for. Once he got the hang of it, Slade sat him down on the couch. "Go to channels 234, 235, 236, and 237 for cartoons."

"Okay."

After making sure he was doing things right, Slade walked off to start the laundry. He soon had to leave. Richard was watching Spongebob Squarepants.

"You might be asleep when I return," Slade said, gripping the door handle. Richard looked over at him. "I will go out and find you if you decide to run off."

Richard smiled. "I don't plan on going anywhere. Thank you."

"Good night then."

Slade left, locking the door behind him. Richard turned back to the TV and decided to check the guide for something better than cartoons. He settled for a good marathon of COPS. After a few minutes of watching car chases, his eyes began to droop. His head jerked forward a few times. Getting a small headache from this, Richard fell over sideways, placing his head on the arm rest. Ten minutes later and he was fast asleep.