
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/847404.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M, Multi
  Fandom:
      Batman_(Comics)
  Relationship:
      Dick_Grayson/Damian_Wayne, Jason_Todd/Damian_Wayne, Dick_Grayson/Jason
      Todd, Dick_Grayson/Jason_Todd/Damian_Wayne
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Mob, Prohibition, Crossdressing, Sharing, Blackmail,
      Threesome_-_M/M/M
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-06-18 Updated: 2013-06-19 Chapters: 2/? Words: 2517
****** Absinthe ******
by MommaUrsa, saccarines_(orphan_account)
Summary
     When Dick Grayson - leader of the Night Wings - sees Judge Wayne's
     son buying alcohol, he takes advantage of the situation to its full
     extent.
Notes
     Chapter Summary: Prohibition didn’t bother Dick on a personal level,
     just a professional one.
***** Chapter 1 *****
The place was dimly lit, a tense hush settled over the air. People from all
walks of life populate the establishment, dressed to impress and holding
conversations in quiet tones. Smoke curled towards the ceiling from cigarettes
and cigars, dissipated from the slowly churning fans above. A flashily-dressed
woman stood center stage, swaying to the music while she sang into the
microphone.
 
Dick surveyed all of this from his private booth tucked in the back of the
room. His cocktail was mostly untouched before him, unlike the rest of the
patron’s drinks. He could name most of the faces in the bar – the important
ones anyway. Ones that he could collect favors from should he ever need to.
 
Dr. Thomas Elliot was hovering at the bar, chatting up a man Dick didn’t
recognize. From his over-eager posture and the still-shining light in his eyes,
Dick would guess he’s Elliot’s newest intern. Poor lad.
 
Harvey Dent – resident DA - was at a table full of coworkers with a round of
half-empty glasses between them. From the frequent, nervous looks they shot
towards the doors, Dick could tell they were new to the experience. Dent
laughed at something, moving his head just enough catch Dick observing, and
after a moment, Dent lifted his glass to him. Dick inclined his head and moves
on.
 
Selina Kyle sat several tables away, a large margarita before each patron at
her table. Dick recognized the ginger at her left as Pamela Isley, a chemist if
memory served. The blonde at her right was Harleen Quinzel, a psychiatrist that
more often than not received court-appointed patients. She’d psychoanalyzed a
number of Dick’s men on court orders, and due to her patronage at Haley’s, they
walked free a good half of the time.
 
Seeing Harleen and Pamela wasn’t a surprise. They were at Haley’s at least once
a week. Selina, however, was a surprise. Ever since she’d married Judge
Wayne…six? seven months ago? Dick hadn’t seen her around her typical haunts. It
was unfortunate. Dick liked Selina quite a bit. He’d never pictured her ending
up a married woman. To be completely honest, he’d expected her to end up in
some kind of ménage à trois with Harleen and Pamela.
 
He counted a handful of off-duty police officers at the bar, a librarian from
the local high school sitting left-stage, and the Mayor himself was walking in
the door.
 
Dick smiled. He’d admit to basking in the knowledge that he held Gotham’s most
powerful hostage by a simple drink. A drink he didn’t even care for, really.
Prohibition didn’t bother Dick on a personal level, just a professional one.
 
Before prohibition, the Night Wings held less than half of Gotham’s underground
alcohol trade. Absinthe and a few others were the only drinks illegal in the
area. Now, with the most basic of alcohol banned, they were the most notorious
for bootlegging. They were the best at it, too. They covered their tracks, and
any link Dick had to them was buried under miles and miles of political
corruption that not even Judge Wayne could dig through.
 
Being the best had its problems, though. Their territorial disputes with the
Red Hoods had jumped from petty to chaotic. Dick spent a lot more money than
he’d like paying for the best smugglers he could find. He didn’t even care for
alcohol. He liked the light, fruity drinks and one or two hard drinks, but Dick
didn’t think his world would end without it.
 
Prohibition had done nothing but make it harder to slip past Judge Wayne, put a
dent in his pocket, and drop Gotham’s most notable and untrustworthy into his
hands.
 
“Boss?”
 
Dick tilted his head back, focusing his attention on his security detail, “Mm?”
 
“We’ve got some underage activity at the bar.”
 
Dick hummed, turning his head. He didn’t mind serving minors, so long as they
weren’t too young or too incriminating. It was easy to spot the perpetrator. He
was shorter than most of the people at the bar, and looked to be haggling with
the bartender. He was petite and dark-skinned. He was…
 
“Well that’s interesting.”
 
Seeing Judge Wayne’s wife wasn’t that surprising; Dick knew her before she’d
married the man. Seeing Judge Wayne’s underage son, however, was surprising.
 
Dick had done his research on the Wayne family (know thine enemy and all that).
He knew Bruce Wayne’s daughter and son(s) are all…somewhat scandalous. He’d
adopted Cassandra Cain shortly after putting her father away for life. He’d
adopted Timothy Drake shortly after the boy’s parents had been killed by a
criminal who’d broken out of prison before Wayne could give him a proper trial.
 
Damian Wayne was the kicker, though. Bruce Wayne’s bastard son. It was still
largely a mystery who his mother was. Bruce Wayne had never been married –
before Selina, that is – and it was quite obvious that the youngest son had
some foreign blood in him. He was the blemish on Judge Wayne’s moral code. The
walking, talking proof that Wayne didn’t always follow the rules.
 
Dick waved his fingers at the man behind him, “Bring him over here.”
 
“You sure, boss? That’s the judge’s kid.”
 
“I know who he is,” Dick leaned back, “Bring him over here.”
 
-
 
The teenager was pushed into the booth roughly, wearing a glower so dark it
could scare a few of Dick’s associates. He folded his arms, turning his angry
look on Dick as the curtains were pulled around the booth to keep away prying
eyes.
 
“What?”
 
Dick lifted an eyebrow. He was slightly surprised the kid doesn’t have an
accent, but he hadbeen living in Gotham for a while now. “What?”
 
“I wasn’t doing anything wrong-”
 
Dick laughed, “This whole place is wrong, little Wayne. That excuse doesn’t cut
it here. Still. Not why I called you over.”
 
Damian frowned, glower lightening. “Your point?”
 
“First, tone down the hostility. We just met, and it’s bad manners to glare at
me like I’ve single-handedly ruined your night.”
 
When Damian didn’t acquiesce, Dick sighed and continued. “Are you here for the
good judge?”
 
“-tt-” Damian narrowed his eyes, “My father doesn’t drink, if that’s what
you’re implying. He obeys the law explicitly.”
 
“Then you’re here for you,” Dick tapped his fingers on the table, “Did Selina
bring you? Trying to win over the sons?”
 
“I can walk,” Damian spat.
 
“It’s a long walk from Wayne Manor, unless you’re spending your time in some
other shady digs around here.” Dick pusheed his untouched drink across the
table, reclining as much as the booth allowed.
 
Damian stared at the drink as if he’d never been more baffled.
 
“Since I’ve never seen you here before, and I’ve never gotten a report that
you’ve been in any of my…bars, I’m going to assume this is the first time
you’ve tried this little rebellion of yours?”
 
Damian didn’t answer, fingers tracing the rim of the glass.
 
“Well, I do require something from my patrons. A payment, of sorts.” Dick
smiled, “A favor, actually. I’m sure you’ve seen the kind of profile I cater
to, here.” He managed to keep his smile from growing when the teen took a
testing sip of the cocktail.
 
Damian finally replied in near-monotone, “Politicians. Doctors. High society.”
 
“Right. And the mob – my gang – is considered low society. When we run into
trouble with the law, I require a bit of…help from people in high places.”
 
“My father isn’t going to help you-”
 
“Not your father,” Dick mimicked his tone. “You, Damian. You’re the one
sneaking in here to get tipsy. See, you’re breaking quite a few laws being
here. You’re a minor, you’re drinking.” Damian put down the glass. “I doubt you
want your dad to find out about this.”
 
“Telling him means incriminating yourself.”
 
“I’ve been to court dozens of times, Damian. Do I look like I’m in jail?’
 
The boy frowned.
 
“So, here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to do anything and everything
you can to keep Bruce Wayne off my back and away from my dives. I don’t really
care how you do it, as long as it gets done.”
 
Damian opened his mouth.
 
“And in return,” Dick eyed him, “He doesn’t find out what his son is spending
his money on. See? Not that bad.”
 
Damian looked ready to glower again, “You’re blackmailing me?”
 
“You’re drinking my cocktail,” Dick shrugged in response. “I’m a mob boss,
Damian. What did you expect when you came here tonight? To not get caught?”
 
Now Damian glowered again.
 
“Do we have a deal?”
 
“-tt- Fine.” Damian slid to the end of the booth, “But I’m keeping your drink.”
***** Chapter 2 *****
               The scent of cigarettes was stronger on this man than it was in
any club Dick owned. The smoky haze tinted the scent of leather and gun powder.
It mixed with the scent of cologne that Dick had bought the man for occasions
such as this, to mask the stench of stale smoke when Jason had given up the
tobacco for a few days. The scent barely masked the smell – and Jason always
complained about wearing the cologne if it did nothing but mix with the scent,
but he always spritzed himself – and instead mixed with it.
               They had been doing this for years, but it didn’t feel that way.
Every touch still felt electrifying and the sex…well, the sex was never boring.
There was never a dull night between the two, even when their touches became
tender and almostsweet. However, their positions in their gangs, their stances
on murder, and their gang’s respective classes made it damn near impossible to
allow the sweet, tender touches become more than just physical. The leader of
the Night Wings couldn’t be seen with the leader of the Red Hoods, not when
Jason’s gang was seen as being full of street rats. The Night Wings were
respected by the upper class. That respect was what Dick’s business was built
upon. He had people that depended on his success, and he couldn’t let personal
feelings get in the way of that.
               Dick’s expression was soft as he watched the younger man in
front of him. He took a deep breath, allowing the faint hint of alcohol to fill
his nostrils. The scent reminded him of the drink from the previous night. Of
the Judge’s son who’d taken it. Dick’s nose wrinkled at the memory. He tried to
shove it out of his mind, to focus on Jason as he shoved the man down onto the
sofa they were standing in front of. This was his night with Jason. He was not
about to ruin it with thoughts of other men. Of other boys.
               Dick slowly climbed onto the man, straddling Jason’s lap as he
reached into the leather coat’s pocket for the metal cigarette case. The metal
case was yet another gift from Dick over the course of their relationship. He
had purchased it custom made, with a picture of a girl posing in a bikini with
Jason’s initials tattooed onto her left hip in the same red that had been used
to color her curls. The younger man had pitched a fit, complaining that he
didn’t need somewhere nice to put his cigarettes when he could just shake them
out of the pack, but he had given up on that fight once he figured out what
exactly Dick would do if the cigarettes were in the metal case.
               The metal case opened with a loud pop. Dick slowly pulled a
stick out from beneath the small clamp. He pressed the stick to Jason’s lips as
the man’s hands settled on his hips.
              “Something wrong, Dickie-bird?” Jason’s brow shot up as the older
man pulled the matchbox from the coat’s other pocket. Jason’s eyes tracked the
other man’s movements, watching as Dick flicked the match head across the rough
surface of the box. The heat of the friction birthed a small flame that Dick
then held to the tip of the cigarette until smoke slowly began to drift up
toward the ceiling of his nice apartment.
               Dick’s lips curled into a coy smile as he shook the flame out.
“Not at all. Why? You worried, Jaybird?” He leaned in to kiss Jason’s jaw,
leaving behind a short trail of wet, biting kisses as teeth dragged along the
light stubble.
               Jason plucked the cigarette out from between his lips before
blowing smoke down at Dick’s face. “You lit my smoke without sayin’ a single
thing. Who’s the lucky guy?” Jason smirked as he replaced the smoke, allowing
it to dangle loosely from between his lips.
               Dick snorted before tugging Jason’s jacket off. The slide of
leather and the rattle and click of zippers and metal buttons filled their
silence. Dick finally hummed to himself for a moment, teeth scraping against
Jason’s neck before he decided to nibble on the tender flesh. “I caught the
Judge’s kid buying drinks, and it wasn’t for the Judge,” he growled against the
man’s neck.
               Jason’s lips twitched with interest. “Which judge?” He gripped
Dick’s ass with one hand before giving it a hard squeeze. He used his grip to
help the older man grind down on his groin. The slow drag forced a low groan
out of him.
               Dick made a soft noise before pulling back enough to flash Jason
a brilliant grin. “Wayne,” he purred, hand dropping to grip the younger man
through his jeans. “His kid’s real cute. Small frame, pretty blue eyes.
Probably takes after the mom,” he explained, his voice a low purr as he
squeezed Jason.
               Jason groaned, fingers digging into Jason’s ass. The older man
chuckled, and then moved his arms up to rest his elbows on Jason’s shoulders.
“I was thinking about sharing, if the kid agrees to that kind of relationship,”
he murmured.
               Jason hummed before moving one hand up to remove his cigarette.
He blew more smoke into Dick’s face, and then surged forward to claim the older
man’s lips in a hard, tooth-clinking kiss. He swiped his tongue along the man’s
lips before licking his way into Dick’s mouth, fucking his tongue in and out as
he maintained control of the kiss, despite their position.
               Dick made an irritated noise before tangling his fingers in
Jason’s hair. He yanked on the short, black waves, forcing Jason’s head back
until the younger man was looking up at him. Dick’s eyes narrowed, lips pursing
into a tight frown. “Do you want to meet the kid?” He used his free hand to
caress the side of Jason’s face.
               Jason slowly licked his bottom lip before swallowing. “Sure,” he
growled the response.
               Dick chuckled, and then gave Jason’s cheek a light tap.
“Tonight’s my night on top. You better honor that if you want me to share.”
               Jason rolled his eyes, only to have Dick snatch the cigarette
from his fingers. The older man put it out on the ashtray beside them. “I think
I want you on your hands and knees, Jaybird. You seem to be intent on defying
me tonight.”
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