Chapter Text
Jason scrubbed his hands against his pants, trying to free himself of the clammy feeling that was taking over his whole body.
He wasn’t nervous. No way.
Just… not excited. And very unsure about what was about to happen and why Donny had woken him up by yelling “Todd” into the dormitory and then spent twenty minutes making him 'presentable.'
Why did Donny always pick him for these special clients? There were eight other boys in the house. Why was he always the one pimped out to away-visit clients?
“You’re the pretty one,” Donny always said, “It’s a compliment, you ungrateful brat.”
At least when he worked nights in the house, the men couldn’t get too violent.
But with these types of jobs? Away visits?
There was no supervision. No checks on the clients. No guards in the house, listening.
Jason shuddered, and wiped his hands again.
“Knock it off,” Donny said, swatting Jason on the back of the head, his ring smacking his skull in a familiar pain, “you fuck this up and I’ll double your next shift.”
“When have I ever fucked one of these up,” Jason grumbled, clenching his fists to try and stop. His palms were still sweating, though. Fuck.
“None of your lip, either, I’m not in the mood.”
Jason rolled his eyes and shoved his hands deep into his pockets, so Donny wouldn’t keep bitching about it.
Donny had no right to be grumpy. Jason was about to make him plenty of money. More than enough to cover Jason’s expenses for the month. Not that Donny would admit it.
No. He’d go with whoever the client is over night. Maybe a day or two, then come back and Donny would have him on shift again the second he was physically capable, regardless of whether Jason still had any debts left for the month.
“You want me to stop buying you those books?” Donny had said once, when Jason was ten and had complained about five men in one night.
Poor, young, naive Jason. Five was the standard, now.
“No,” had been his answer, so Jason didn’t bring it up anymore. The homeschool books Donny got him were the only things keeping him sane.
One day, when he was too old and too big for this job, he’d be free. Donny would have no use for him, and he wouldn’t be at risk of another, worse pimp taking him. Then he’d be able to make his own money, and go to school for real.
That was the one reason he stayed with Donny. He’d have to do the work regardless. At least Donny treated them well and didn’t dump them in the river when they grew too large and all their clients quit paying, like most the other pimps.
“You don’t need me to go over the rules,” Donny said, lowly, as they continued down 77th street, “right, boy?”
Jason rolled his eyes again and said, “‘Course not. Been doing this three years now, D.”
“Good. Don’t fuck this one up.”
“You already said that,” Jason cut in, but Donny ignored him.
“I want him as a repeat.”
It took all Jason had not to roll his eyes yet again. He knew if he had ‘too much’ attitude, Donny would flip his shit on him. So he frequently walked right up to the line. And danced there.
But Donny didn’t have to tell him he wanted him as a repeat. That was always the goal, no matter how much Jason disliked it. Some clients he preferred to never seen again.
Actually… most of his repeats he’d rather never see again. They were all terrible. But Jason did know the rules: Do everything asked, and do it well.
And Jason did do it well. That was probably why he was always chosen for these special clients. Donny did not need to coach him, or worry Jason was being ornery and pissing off the client.
They walked four more blocks, to a familiar restaurant good enough regular people could eat there without anyone getting suspicious of their private dealings and moral character, but just skeevy enough no one bat an eye at money and goods being exchanged in the back room.
This was Gotham. Mind your own business and eat your baked ziti, that was basically the motto.
Donny grabbed him by the upper arm and pulled him into the little dive, moving a little too fast for Jason’s short legs to keep up. They went through the side door, and Donny grunted a quick greeting to his ‘cousin’ in the kitchen as they passed.
Fucking mob.
Jason focused on keeping his breathing even. It was almost go time and he needed to be ready.
“Stay here,” Donny said, shoving Jason into the all-too familiar private dining room, in the back of the restaurant, where all these sorts of deals went down. Donny walked out into the main room, probably to see if his mystery client was there.
Jason crossed his arms and tilted his head in greeting to the guard, who was sitting at the table across the room, playing solitaire with a worn deck of cards.
Joey was his name, although he’d told Jason once he ‘preferred Joe, but at least Joey wasn’t as bad as J.J.’ Jason had grinned, a mere nine at the time, and agreed ‘J.J.’ was an awful nickname.
“Word of advice, kid,” Joe had said, “pick a name you hate to give folks. Keeps the name your ma gave ya from leaving a bad taste in your mouth.”
Jason had taken the advice to heart. All his repeats called him some variation of Peter.
“—didn’t think you were serious, Don,” a quickly approaching voice said. Deep. Warm. Jason would guess this was a big guy, just based on his voice alone, and it took a lot in him to keep his body relaxed.
And to ignore the dread coiling in his stomach.
“Permanent seems to be your style,” Donny said from just outside the room, “I couldn’t bear to part with this one permanently, but he’s an example of what I can get ya, if you’re ever in the market for permanent.”
Aww. Donny couldn’t bear to sell him permanently.
How sweet.
Jason took a step back, away from the door, and crossed his arms for half a second, before quickly dropping them again. No attitude.
He didn’t want to be permanent. But Donny had, in the past, sold a boy here or there, to the highest bidder. But those had always been the trouble makers. The criers. The ones Donny didn’t see the use in keeping. Jason had worked hard to make sure Donny never saw that in him.
He wanted that future. He wanted college. A job. Adulthood. All the things orphans from crime alley could barely dream of.
“Oh, I don’t know if I’m interested,” the man said, as the curtain between the two rooms lifted, and the man ducked under it, Donny following close behind.
And it was immensely clear why Donny had been so uptight about this one.
Because standing just inside the room was Bruce Fucking Wayne.
Gotham’s richest asshole.
Great.
The uber rich were always the freakiest men. The absolute worst clients.
Not that many of his clients saw him as a person, but the super rich acted like he were an object, there to abuse however they wished.
It was basically a fact now. Jason’s next 24-hours were going to be the things his nightmares were made of.
Maybe, at least, Donny would give him a few days off after. A week, maybe, if Wayne paid well enough, and Donny felt bad enough.
Which, sometimes happened. When Jason needed the break, like he probably would.
“Oh, you really weren’t kidding,” Wayne said, his sharp blue eyes scanning Jason, like he were some fucking puzzle.
It was a step up from how usually he was looked at like a piece of meat. A play thing. A show dog. But it wasn’t much of a step up.
“Just ten-years-old,” Donny said, “I heard you liked young. Pretty blue eyes, too. Just wait until you see them in the daylight.”
“Yes,” Wayne said, a little tightly.
Ah. So he was one of the self-conscious ones. That…
Wasn’t so bad.
Meant he wouldn’t be too bold.
Probably wouldn’t invite friends over, either.
Donny crossed the room and got behind Jason, putting his hands on each of Jason’s shoulders, squeezing just a little too tightly. Jason smiled, to cover up his grimace, and tried to look as ten as he could.
Even though he was twelve. And about to turn thirteen, in two short months.
“Give him a shot,” Donny said, pushing Jason toward Wayne so harshly, Jason stumbled. He quickly righted his balance, and looked back at Donny, before he reluctantly crossed the room to Wayne. “I know you’ve had the same kid for about ten years, so it’s hard to move on, but this one is worth it.”
Oh. Jason didn’t know that.
So maybe he was bold.
Something dark passed over Waynes face, so quickly Jason questioned whether it’d actually been there, before he turned his gaze down on Jason. His eyes were cold. Cold and calculating.
Jason’s heart hammered so hard, he could feel it in his throat when he swallowed. He finished approaching Wayne, despite his nerves, and forced a smile on his face as he pressed himself close, within inches. Donny was standing right there, so he reached up, to put a hand on Wayne’s thigh, just like Donny wanted him to do.
Entice the client.
Even though clients that weren’t already giving him flirty eyes rarely reacted well to advances from Jason. Those types usually wanted Jason to wait, until they were alone. Donny didn’t get that, though. Because Donny had never done the work.
Just made them all do it…
Wayne shifted his weight, just enough, that he dodged Jason’s hand. He clenched one fist, and placed his other hand on the top of Jason’s head, and gently pushed Jason backward, so Jason took a step back away from Wayne.
And Jason could breathe a sigh of relief. If he did, Donny would beat the shit out of him for fucking this up, so instead he kept the smile on his face, and only internally thanked everything he could think of that Wayne wasn’t interested.
Before Jason could finish that thought, however, Wayne opened his mouth and asked, “How much?”
So much for that.
“One hundred an hour, or two thousand a day,” Donny said, and Jason could just hear the grin in his voice. If he turned around, he was fairly certain he’d see the dollar signs in the bastard’s eyes.
Wayne pulled a whole roll of cash out of his pocket and tossed it over to Donny, asking, “How much will that get me,” his eyes not leaving Jason the whole time.
Those same calculating eyes. Jason could tell he was making grand plans inside his head, and Jason didn’t want to know. He'd find out soon enough.
“The week,” Donny said, and all hope of time off vanished from Jason.
What the fuck was a week going to entail? Some of Jason’s worst days of his life was because some asshole bought 24 or 48 hours of his life. But a whole week?
Jason suppressed a shiver, as Wayne smiled lightly and said, “Perfect. Are we good, then?”
“Yes, sir. Bring him back here same time next week. It’s a pleasure doing business with you.”
Wayne set a hand on Jason’s back, and lightly pushed him out the door, and through the maze of tables in the main restaurant. None of the patrons paid them any attention, and somehow no one heard the hammering of his heart.
There was no way Wayne couldn’t feel it, though.
Especially since he murmured, “It’s all right,” as he pat on Jason’s back a couple times, just as they left the restaurant through the front door, “I’m not going to hurt you, lad.”
“Of course not,” Jason said, forcing a smile again, making his tense body relax again. There was no room to be nervous. This was fine.
It was fine.
Nothing he couldn’t handle. Nothing he couldn’t do.
Wayne sighed, and removed his hand from Jason’s back, as he sped up his gait and led Jason down the road and around the block, toward some parking. He stopped, abruptly, next to a Tesla, and Jason didn’t have the headspace to admire the car like he wanted. He’d never seen a Tesla so up close, and had certainly never been inside one.
But his whole body wanted to start shaking, so he was dedicating all of himself to not letting that happen.
“Come on,” Wayne said, as he opened the back door and motioned for Jason to climb in. At least he’s not shoving you in the trunk, Jason told himself, as he slid in. Wayne leaned over the door, sticking his head inside the car, and said very gently, “Really, lad. I’m not going to hurt you. You’re safe now.”
“Yeah,” Jason said, nodding. He didn’t know what game they were playing, but he could play along, “Of course. It’s fine. I’m totally used to it.”
“It’s not fine,” Wayne said, hanging his head as he pressed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, “It’s wrong. You’ll never have to do anything like that ever again. I promise.”
Weird thing to promise, Jason thought.
Unless Wayne meant Jason never had to get sold again. Which meant he was just kidnapping Jason and keeping him.
Which…
Heh. Donny wasn’t going to allow that.
Wayne would wake up dead if he kept Jason for a single day more than he paid.
At least Jason could count on Donny for that. Donny was ruthlessly protective of his boys.
With another sigh, Wayne stood up and shut the door, then took his sweet time rounding the car to the driver’s seat. In fact, he didn’t get in the car. Instead, he leaned up against the driver’s door, and pulled a cell phone out of his coat pocket.
Calling his friends, no doubt.
So much for a shy, self-conscious dude.
Jason wrapped his arms around his stomach, and tried to think happy thoughts.
The next week was gonna suck.