Fic: Business Proposal | DCU | Hooker!Jay/Robbie Malone | NC-17 | 1/1
Title: Business Proposal
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Hooker!Jason Todd/Robbie Malone (Dick Grayson/Jason Todd)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,665
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: street corner, turf, asphalt, grime, knees, scrape, grip, punishment, owned, business, percentage, lick
Summary: In which Jay works his street corner, Robbie is a pimp lookin' to make a deal, and everything goes to hell.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII. First in a 3-part Dick/Jay identity porn series, which will be included in what I'm now calling my Hooker!Jay-verse (which in turn includes all my other hooker!Jay fics; which means I've gotta rearrange stuff on my fic index--again XD). Warning for apparent dub-con/non-con (that really isn't), other physical and verbal abuse, and a monumental number of f-bombs.
Business Proposal
Leaning against a lamp post on the corner, Jay took a long drag off his cigarette. Too hot out here to be smoking, but fuck it, he was too stressed by the lack of business the last few days to give a shit. Always went this way, the johns steering clear of this district when the mercury shot up over ninety, always cut into his profits. Fucking east coast summers. Fucking humidity.
“You seriously gonna stand there smokin' like a chimney, Todd, when there's money to be made?”
His body tensing from the sudden voice in his ear, Jay cursed under his breath and dropped his cig, stamping it out with a boot toe. “The fuck d'you want, Malone? Daddy send you down here to horn in on my turf again?” This was about the last fucking thing Jay needed.
A dark chuckle, and Robbie Malone nuzzled up behind Jay's ear, sniffing, darting his tongue out to get a taste of the sweat trickling down from Jay's hair. “Maybe,” he replied. “Or maybe I'm here to represent myself. Maybe I got a job offer for ya'.”
Well, if that didn't take the fucking cake. Jay couldn't help a snort of amusement as he turned and crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best to loom over Malone. “That's pretty rich, comin' from you, squirt. Gonna be my pimp, is that it?”
“Now you listen up,” Robbie spat back, grabbing a fistful of Jay's leather jacket and slamming him back against the light pole. And fuck, it just about drove the wind out of Jay, leaving him gasping and wide-eyed. “I got the market on this street, and you're the last hold-out. You come work for me, I'll see that you got a clean place to stay, proper medical and all that shit, and anybody gives you any trouble, you ain't ever gotta worry about 'em again. It ain't rocket science, for fuck's sake.”
“All for, what, sixty percent of my profits? Seventy?” Jay managed, his blood starting to boil as he got a hand around Malone's arm and started to tug him off. “Keep dreamin'.”
But Robbie didn't seem the least bit put off, changing tactics with an easy grin and openly inviting blue eyes under the hood of his gray sweatshirt and a wide sweep of his arms out to his sides. “Hey, I'm just proposin' a business deal, here, sweetheart. We all gotta make a living, and what's the harm in doin' it up right? And just for you, I'd let you keep seventy-five. That ain't small potatoes; you got an ass that'll bring in the big bucks if we set you up with the right clientele.”
Jay snorted again, steeling himself in case the bastard tried anything else. “You got a lot of fucking nerve, Robbie. And in case you hadn't noticed, seventy-five percent of zero is still fucking zero. There ain't shit happenin' out here in this heat.”
Malone smirked then, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe not, but maybe I can get you clients that don't need to slink around out here chasin' ass. And maybe I'm a payin' customer tonight. What're you chargin'?”
“You gotta be fuckin' kidding me. More than you got.”
But Malone's expression turned hard again, his lips thinning, and he reached up to catch Jay around his neck with a firm hand, Jay tensing and trying-to no avail-to tug himself free. “Trust me, I got enough. Why don't we consider it your first transaction under my employ? Say, a hundred bucks, minus my twenty-five?”
“Fuck you,” Jay spat, struggling to duck out of Robbie's hold and only getting tangled up more completely.
“That's pretty much the idea,” Malone shot back, and with a suddenly tight grip on Jay's shoulders, he pushed him down to his knees, the asphalt rough and tearing at his skin through the rips in his jeans. “Now get to work, so we can call it a night, already. And if you're lucky, I'll even let you move into your new place tonight, your very own rooms at palatial Gotham Grand,” he finished, working open his pants and tugging out his already hard cock.
Huffing out a breath, Jay grimaced, body starting to ache from the pain in his knees and the bruises he knew were already coming up from Malone's manhandling. The Gotham Grand was a fucking pit. Better to be dropped in the hellhole he was already squatting in than move into that place. “You're outta your mind if you think I'm suckin' you off, Robbie,” Jay spat, hands up to shove at Malone's hips. But the guy stood firm, grabbing Jay's head by the hair and tugging hard.
“Oh, I think it's a pretty safe bet, seein' as I can get your ass busted if you don't.” Leaning close, he whispered harshly in Jay's ear. “Or don't you remember I got half the cops in this town in my pocket?”
Jay struggled against the hold. “Don't you mean Daddy's got 'em in his pocket?” he practically growled.
With a hard jerk, Malone pulled Jay's head down to his cock. “Get suckin'. And maybe I won't screw up your pretty little face before I drag your ass back to the Grand.”
“Bite me, asshole.”
And with that, Robbie reared back and landed a punch right on top of Jay's head, sending him reeling, his vision swimming and fuzzy. And-fuck, everything seemed to turn to jelly, all the fight leached out of him with the pain and dizziness that took him over. Fuck. Fuck. How was he supposed to... when he couldn't even get the world to right itself? Fuck.
“Do what you're fuckin' told, Todd,” Malone hissed, dragging Jay back to his crotch forcefully. “And if you try to bite me, I'll fuckin' kill ya'.”
Fuck, Jay didn't have anything left to even hurl a few insults, only a persistent throbbing in his head and the scent of Robbie's cock right in front of him. And seventy-five bucks was seventy-five bucks, considering. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't agree so fucking easily, but... but there wasn't any business to be had for days, and he was fucking hungry and stressed, and the world was sideways, and-
A deep breath, and he took Malone's cock into his mouth, working quickly, tongue swirling around the head and down over the shaft while he managed a grip on his hips. The stench of sweat and sex filled his nostrils, and he forced himself not to gag with it, bobbing his head up and down and sucking hard while Robbie moaned above him.
“Yeah, that's right, that's just right,” Malone purred, panting and stroking Jay's hair while he held onto a fistful with his other hand. “Just roll with it, baby. Take it all.”
Swallowing, Jay did as told, taking Robbie's dick all the way down his throat, as much as he could, holding his breath. Stars started to dance around the edges of his already blurry vision, but he couldn't stop now, not with his own ass on the line, and not when Malone started to fuck his throat in earnest, thrusting in hard enough to choke Jay. Still, he stuck with it, holding on for his fucking life, and after what felt like a fucking eternity of starving for oxygen, Robbie groaned above him, his fingers curling tighter in Jay's hair.
“Aw, fuck yeah. Yeah.” And with a final shout, Malone pulsed in Jay's mouth, his come pouring down Jay's throat.
Jay fought not to gag on it, his throat trying to close up and his own fingers scrabbling against Robbie's hips, desperate to pull away. But it was all on Robbie's terms, and Jay only found relief when Malone tugged him off, slipping his already softening dick out of Jay's throat and mouth.
Air had never tasted so good, his lungs burning with the sudden intake. Fuck, Gotham air had never tasted so fucking sweet, even heavy with the usual grime and smoke and extra humidity of fucking summer.
“That's a good little cock-sucker,” Malone soothed him, petting his hair again. The fucking slimy bastard. “Now get the hell up. I got a car waitin' around the block.”
Shaking his head as the world finally decided to right itself, Jay shoved himself back and up to his feet, trying to put as much distance between himself and Malone as he came to his senses. “Fuck you,” he spat again, his voice shredded, this time following with actual spit, loosing it at the bastard. “I ain't goin' nowhere with you.”
Robbie only smirked, dodging the wad of come and saliva with a harsh laugh as he tucked himself back into his pants and did up the zipper. “Got news for ya', kid. I own your ass now. You got no choice.”
“Like hell. Don't think I won't kill you, you try to fuck with me again.”
“So you still wanna play it that way, huh? Got a real set of balls now?” Malone chuckled. “Fine. I can wait. Not like you got anywhere else to go,” he shrugged before reaching into his wallet and plucking out a few bills, tossing them at Jay in return. “You change your mind, you know where to find me, Todd. And you might wanna watch out for cops in the meantime.” Turning on his heel then, he stalked off down the street, his hands shoved down into the pockets of his hoodie as if he was just passing through, hadn't just fucked Jay's throat raw.
Mind still a little fuzzy, Jay grabbed up the money-fuck, not even fifty bucks-and got the hell off the street as fast as he could. At the very least, he could call it a damn night, go get cleaned up, and hit an all-night diner. And tomorrow, he'd just have to find another street corner to set up shop. Because this shit with Malone was seriously not worth the fucking trouble. Especially if he had to watch out for fucking Gotham PD now. Those asshats.
Fuck, he was so fucking screwed. He seriously did not need this shit. At all.
~*~*~*~
Fandom: DCU
Pairing: Hooker!Jason Todd/Robbie Malone (Dick Grayson/Jason Todd)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 1,665
Prompt: For Porn Battle XII: street corner, turf, asphalt, grime, knees, scrape, grip, punishment, owned, business, percentage, lick
Summary: In which Jay works his street corner, Robbie is a pimp lookin' to make a deal, and everything goes to hell.
Disclaimer: DC and WB own everything, the schmucks.
Author's Notes: Originally posted here at PB XII. First in a 3-part Dick/Jay identity porn series, which will be included in what I'm now calling my Hooker!Jay-verse (which in turn includes all my other hooker!Jay fics; which means I've gotta rearrange stuff on my fic index--again XD). Warning for apparent dub-con/non-con (that really isn't), other physical and verbal abuse, and a monumental number of f-bombs.
Business Proposal
Leaning against a lamp post on the corner, Jay took a long drag off his cigarette. Too hot out here to be smoking, but fuck it, he was too stressed by the lack of business the last few days to give a shit. Always went this way, the johns steering clear of this district when the mercury shot up over ninety, always cut into his profits. Fucking east coast summers. Fucking humidity.
“You seriously gonna stand there smokin' like a chimney, Todd, when there's money to be made?”
His body tensing from the sudden voice in his ear, Jay cursed under his breath and dropped his cig, stamping it out with a boot toe. “The fuck d'you want, Malone? Daddy send you down here to horn in on my turf again?” This was about the last fucking thing Jay needed.
A dark chuckle, and Robbie Malone nuzzled up behind Jay's ear, sniffing, darting his tongue out to get a taste of the sweat trickling down from Jay's hair. “Maybe,” he replied. “Or maybe I'm here to represent myself. Maybe I got a job offer for ya'.”
Well, if that didn't take the fucking cake. Jay couldn't help a snort of amusement as he turned and crossed his arms over his chest, doing his best to loom over Malone. “That's pretty rich, comin' from you, squirt. Gonna be my pimp, is that it?”
“Now you listen up,” Robbie spat back, grabbing a fistful of Jay's leather jacket and slamming him back against the light pole. And fuck, it just about drove the wind out of Jay, leaving him gasping and wide-eyed. “I got the market on this street, and you're the last hold-out. You come work for me, I'll see that you got a clean place to stay, proper medical and all that shit, and anybody gives you any trouble, you ain't ever gotta worry about 'em again. It ain't rocket science, for fuck's sake.”
“All for, what, sixty percent of my profits? Seventy?” Jay managed, his blood starting to boil as he got a hand around Malone's arm and started to tug him off. “Keep dreamin'.”
But Robbie didn't seem the least bit put off, changing tactics with an easy grin and openly inviting blue eyes under the hood of his gray sweatshirt and a wide sweep of his arms out to his sides. “Hey, I'm just proposin' a business deal, here, sweetheart. We all gotta make a living, and what's the harm in doin' it up right? And just for you, I'd let you keep seventy-five. That ain't small potatoes; you got an ass that'll bring in the big bucks if we set you up with the right clientele.”
Jay snorted again, steeling himself in case the bastard tried anything else. “You got a lot of fucking nerve, Robbie. And in case you hadn't noticed, seventy-five percent of zero is still fucking zero. There ain't shit happenin' out here in this heat.”
Malone smirked then, shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe not, but maybe I can get you clients that don't need to slink around out here chasin' ass. And maybe I'm a payin' customer tonight. What're you chargin'?”
“You gotta be fuckin' kidding me. More than you got.”
But Malone's expression turned hard again, his lips thinning, and he reached up to catch Jay around his neck with a firm hand, Jay tensing and trying-to no avail-to tug himself free. “Trust me, I got enough. Why don't we consider it your first transaction under my employ? Say, a hundred bucks, minus my twenty-five?”
“Fuck you,” Jay spat, struggling to duck out of Robbie's hold and only getting tangled up more completely.
“That's pretty much the idea,” Malone shot back, and with a suddenly tight grip on Jay's shoulders, he pushed him down to his knees, the asphalt rough and tearing at his skin through the rips in his jeans. “Now get to work, so we can call it a night, already. And if you're lucky, I'll even let you move into your new place tonight, your very own rooms at palatial Gotham Grand,” he finished, working open his pants and tugging out his already hard cock.
Huffing out a breath, Jay grimaced, body starting to ache from the pain in his knees and the bruises he knew were already coming up from Malone's manhandling. The Gotham Grand was a fucking pit. Better to be dropped in the hellhole he was already squatting in than move into that place. “You're outta your mind if you think I'm suckin' you off, Robbie,” Jay spat, hands up to shove at Malone's hips. But the guy stood firm, grabbing Jay's head by the hair and tugging hard.
“Oh, I think it's a pretty safe bet, seein' as I can get your ass busted if you don't.” Leaning close, he whispered harshly in Jay's ear. “Or don't you remember I got half the cops in this town in my pocket?”
Jay struggled against the hold. “Don't you mean Daddy's got 'em in his pocket?” he practically growled.
With a hard jerk, Malone pulled Jay's head down to his cock. “Get suckin'. And maybe I won't screw up your pretty little face before I drag your ass back to the Grand.”
“Bite me, asshole.”
And with that, Robbie reared back and landed a punch right on top of Jay's head, sending him reeling, his vision swimming and fuzzy. And-fuck, everything seemed to turn to jelly, all the fight leached out of him with the pain and dizziness that took him over. Fuck. Fuck. How was he supposed to... when he couldn't even get the world to right itself? Fuck.
“Do what you're fuckin' told, Todd,” Malone hissed, dragging Jay back to his crotch forcefully. “And if you try to bite me, I'll fuckin' kill ya'.”
Fuck, Jay didn't have anything left to even hurl a few insults, only a persistent throbbing in his head and the scent of Robbie's cock right in front of him. And seventy-five bucks was seventy-five bucks, considering. He shouldn't do this, shouldn't agree so fucking easily, but... but there wasn't any business to be had for days, and he was fucking hungry and stressed, and the world was sideways, and-
A deep breath, and he took Malone's cock into his mouth, working quickly, tongue swirling around the head and down over the shaft while he managed a grip on his hips. The stench of sweat and sex filled his nostrils, and he forced himself not to gag with it, bobbing his head up and down and sucking hard while Robbie moaned above him.
“Yeah, that's right, that's just right,” Malone purred, panting and stroking Jay's hair while he held onto a fistful with his other hand. “Just roll with it, baby. Take it all.”
Swallowing, Jay did as told, taking Robbie's dick all the way down his throat, as much as he could, holding his breath. Stars started to dance around the edges of his already blurry vision, but he couldn't stop now, not with his own ass on the line, and not when Malone started to fuck his throat in earnest, thrusting in hard enough to choke Jay. Still, he stuck with it, holding on for his fucking life, and after what felt like a fucking eternity of starving for oxygen, Robbie groaned above him, his fingers curling tighter in Jay's hair.
“Aw, fuck yeah. Yeah.” And with a final shout, Malone pulsed in Jay's mouth, his come pouring down Jay's throat.
Jay fought not to gag on it, his throat trying to close up and his own fingers scrabbling against Robbie's hips, desperate to pull away. But it was all on Robbie's terms, and Jay only found relief when Malone tugged him off, slipping his already softening dick out of Jay's throat and mouth.
Air had never tasted so good, his lungs burning with the sudden intake. Fuck, Gotham air had never tasted so fucking sweet, even heavy with the usual grime and smoke and extra humidity of fucking summer.
“That's a good little cock-sucker,” Malone soothed him, petting his hair again. The fucking slimy bastard. “Now get the hell up. I got a car waitin' around the block.”
Shaking his head as the world finally decided to right itself, Jay shoved himself back and up to his feet, trying to put as much distance between himself and Malone as he came to his senses. “Fuck you,” he spat again, his voice shredded, this time following with actual spit, loosing it at the bastard. “I ain't goin' nowhere with you.”
Robbie only smirked, dodging the wad of come and saliva with a harsh laugh as he tucked himself back into his pants and did up the zipper. “Got news for ya', kid. I own your ass now. You got no choice.”
“Like hell. Don't think I won't kill you, you try to fuck with me again.”
“So you still wanna play it that way, huh? Got a real set of balls now?” Malone chuckled. “Fine. I can wait. Not like you got anywhere else to go,” he shrugged before reaching into his wallet and plucking out a few bills, tossing them at Jay in return. “You change your mind, you know where to find me, Todd. And you might wanna watch out for cops in the meantime.” Turning on his heel then, he stalked off down the street, his hands shoved down into the pockets of his hoodie as if he was just passing through, hadn't just fucked Jay's throat raw.
Mind still a little fuzzy, Jay grabbed up the money-fuck, not even fifty bucks-and got the hell off the street as fast as he could. At the very least, he could call it a damn night, go get cleaned up, and hit an all-night diner. And tomorrow, he'd just have to find another street corner to set up shop. Because this shit with Malone was seriously not worth the fucking trouble. Especially if he had to watch out for fucking Gotham PD now. Those asshats.
Fuck, he was so fucking screwed. He seriously did not need this shit. At all.
~*~*~*~