
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/1035243.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Pacific_Rim_(2013)
  Relationship:
      Newton_Geiszler/Hannibal_Chau
  Character:
      Newton_Geiszler, Hannibal_Chau
  Additional Tags:
      Alternate_Universe-_No_kaiju, Age_Difference, Blowjobs, Dirty_Talk, Sex
      for_Goods, Mentions_of_drugs
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-11-07 Words: 1616
****** this is ten different kinds of illegal ******
by ClassyFangirl
Summary
     Hannibal is a Boston mobster. Newt is a seventeen-year-old student at
     MIT. They hit it off.
Notes
     Finally, another prompt fill! Written for an anonymous prompter on
     tumblr. Everything I know about the Boston mob scene comes from The
     Departed and from growing up not far from the city, so I sincerely
     doubt my own accuracy.
Boston’s always been a good gang town, even after Bulger went on the run, and
Hannibal’s looking to make a switch to a more multicultural environment. He’s
no Irishman, and with a fake name like Chau, nobody expects him to be, which
has been tricky to deal with. Goddamn Southie pricks. But Hannibal’s a man of
vision, and Boston is ripe with opportunities for a man willing to invest his
time and money.
One of these opportunities turns out to be Newton Geiszler.
It’s a rainy day in November when Hannibal’s chauffeur nearly runs over a
teenager running across the street.
“Jesus!” Hannibal snaps when the limo brakes suddenly. “The hell was that?”
“Sorry, sir- there’s this kid in the road-”
There’s a heavy rapping against the limousine window. “Hey!” a voice yells,
muffled by the thick (bullet-proof, thank you) glass. “Watch where you’re
driving, asshole! You think just ‘cause you’re all rich you can go running
people over?”
Hannibal rolls his window down and glares over the tops of his sunglasses. The
kid- a short, baby-faced guy, definitely in his teens, with thick glasses and
too-tight jeans -frowns right back at him, either brave or too stupid to be
intimidated. Even if it’s the latter, Hannibal’s pretty impressed- his angry
look has made hardened criminals piss their goddamn pants. “You talkin’ to me,
kid?”
The kid snorts and adjusts his glasses. “Yeah, De Niro- you and your shitty
fucking driver. The light was red, dickbag! I could’ve sued if you hit me!”
Hannibal laughs. “Yeah? And what would’ve happened when you lost? You gonna use
your college fund to pay your lawyer?”
The kid grins and flips him off. Yeah, definitely stupid, but almost charmingly
so. “Kiss my ass and my MIT scholarship, dick.”
“You? You’ve got an MIT scholarship? What are you, fourteen?”
“Seventeen,” the kid says. “Added go-fuck-yourself- I start grad school next
semester. Yeah, man!” he snaps, pointing at Hannibal’s driver. “Regretting
running that red light now?”
All right, Hannibal’s interested. “Okay, boy genius,” he says. “What’s a smart
kid like you doing in a shitty neighborhood like this?”
The kid huffs. “None of your business.”
Hannibal lowers his sunglasses, lets the kid get a good look at the scar over
his eye. When that doesn’t scare an answer out of him, Hannibal chuckles. “Now
you don’t feel like talking? Huh. Who knew. Fine, then- at least let me give
you a ride to wherever you gotta get to. How’s that sound?”
Common sense seems to be making a return. The kid starts backing up slowly.
“Yeaaah, I’m probably gonna pass- y’know, stranger danger, all that fun stuff.
One minute you’re showing me your pet bunny, then before you know it, I’m
locked in a truck headed for Mexico.”
“You watched some shitty after-school specials when you were little, didn’t
you?” Hannibal shakes his head and waves the kid off. “Fine, fine. Be that way.
But who knows- maybe I’ll see you around, kid.”
He’s rolling the window back up when the kid says, “Newt.”
Hannibal pauses. “‘Scuse me?”
“My, uh...” The kid clears his throat and stands up a little straighter. “My
name’s Newt.”
Hannibal grins and nods. “Newt. Gotcha. Catch ya later, Newt.”
It’s after this that things get interesting.
 
ooo
 
He catches the kid skulking around the same neighborhood not two weeks later.
Hannibal’s walking this time, armed guards not far behind. He’s pretty sure
he’s just successfully muscled some of the Providence Italians out of his new
territory, and he’s in an awfully good mood that’s only improved by the sight
of the kid. Newt is bundled up in a thick jacket, his hands shoved in his
pockets while he leans against a wall, glaring at the sidewalk. He looks up
excitedly when Hannibal approaches, like a puppy about to get a treat, but his
face falls when he sees Hannibal’s apparently not who he was expecting. “Oh,”
Newt says. “It’s you.”
“Yeah, it’s me. What, you’re not waitin’ around just for me, boy genius?”
“I have my own reasons for being here.” Newt takes his hands out of his pockets
to rub them together fiercely. It’s a cold damn day- middle of November in
Boston isn’t a great time to be outdoors. “Why, were you looking for me? Did I
strike your mobster fancy?”
Hannibal’s hand goes to his knife- people, even his fellow mobsters, don’t
usually speak the word out loud. Not even cops do that- only people who are
liable to go informing the cops. But Newt just laughs. “Oh, come on- like you
could be anything else. You’re not even subtle, man, it’s like- it’s like if
Whitey went around waving a gun and yelling ‘I’m a gangster!’”
Hannibal snorts and unhands his knife. “Yeah? You know a lot about gangsters,
kid?”
Newt shrugs and waves a hand flippantly. “I go to MIT, not UMass. Everything I
know I learned from The Departed.”
That gets a laugh from Hannibal. Yeah, he likes this kid a lot. “What are you
waiting for, then?”
“Weed guy. My weed guy- he was supposed to meet me here, like, fifteen minutes
ago, but nooo, apparently he’s busy- I don’t know, snorting coke off his
girlfriend or something.” Newt sighs and tugs his coat tighter around himself.
“Asshole.”
“Weed?” Hannibal laughs. “That’s all? Shit, kid, you could take a short walk
with me and I’d get you way better stuff- and I bet for cheaper than your
street prick is charging you.”
Newt stares at him, eyebrows raised. “Is that, like, a hypothetical or an
actual offer?”
Hannibal grins. “Could easily be a damn fine business deal.”
Newt bites his lower lip and shrugs again. “See, uh, trouble is, I don’t- I
don’t pay Trevor in cash, exactly.”
“Well, I don’t take cards, so hit up an ATM. I got time.”
“N-no, um, not- not that, either.” Newt looks a little sheepish, and Hannibal
finally gets it.
“Ah. Well. I ain’t opposed to that, if you’re up for it.”
Newt stares openly at him. “You know I’m underage, right? I could’ve sworn I
said that.”
“And your weed guy’s under eighteen too? Gee, somehow I doubt that.” Hannibal
shrugs. He doesn’t really give a damn. “You’re not gonna go to the cops. I
ain’t forcin’ you to do anything. Just making an offer.”
“...Fine. Short walk, huh? Please tell me that means I don’t have to suck you
off in an alley like fucking Trevor.”
“Jesus.” Hannibal shakes his head. “Hell no. We’re heading to one of my nice
places. Private, cozy. Warm.”
“Warm,” Newt says, grinning. “I can get behind warm.”
It’s not that short a walk, actually, but they get there with minimal
complaining from Newt, so Hannibal would say it’s a win. His bodyguards take
his and Newt’s coats- “Hey, where the hell did they come from? Were they
following us?” -and Hannibal guides him to a back room.
It’s a lounge, sort of, with big, soft chairs and a large couch. Hannibal takes
a seat on the couch and spreads his legs. “So- one for an eighth?”
“An- sure! Yeah, sure sure sure. All right.” Newt drops to his knees. He unzips
Hannibal’s pants, pulls out his cock, and gasps. “Jesus. Holy shit, you’re
huge. God, this is gonna be something. Okay, I haven’t exactly done this with
guys, uh, your size, but I think I can-”
He fits a very impressive length into his mouth on the first go. Newt hums,
wraps a hand around the base of Hannibal’s cock, and with his other one flashes
a thumbs-up at Hannibal- he looks awfully proud of himself. Hannibal chuckles
and threads his fingers through the kid’s hair. Newt groans and bobs his head
before pushing forward, taking more of Hannibal’s cock into his mouth. Damn,
the kid must get a lot of practice. Hannibal looks down at that youthful face,
with the big green eyes behind those glasses, and yeah, he feels like more of a
dirty old man than usual.
He tightens his grip on Newt’s hair, and Newt whines. His free hand moves from
Hannibal’s knee to his own crotch, where he makes a valiant attempt at undoing
his skinny jeans. He can’t seem to manage it one-handed, though, and he resorts
to rubbing himself through the denim.
“Yeah? You like sucking dick that much, huh, kid?”
Newt groans again and sucks harder. He pulls back so he can lap the precome
leaking from the slit. “Please,” Newt gasps. “Could, uh...you do more of that?”
Normally, Hannibal would scoff, maybe kick him in the stomach and throw him out
for presuming. But- he likes the kid. He’s stupid and sharp and good at sucking
cock. So fine. He’s willing to indulge. “Dirty little boy loves having a cock
in his mouth,” he growls, and Newt shivers. “I bet the weed’s just a bonus. You
just love sucking off guys twice, three times your age, huh? Greedy little
boy.”
It doesn’t take much more from Newt to make Hannibal come. Watching him eagerly
swallow every drop could get Hannibal hard all over again if he were as young
as Newt. Newt stands on wobbly legs and Hannibal grins at the dark wet spot at
his crotch. “Guess I don’t need to reciprocate,” he says. “Little fella already
made a mess of his own.”
Newt makes a noise like a strangled, desperate squeak, and he nods. “Uh. A-
anyway- my eighth?”
“Sure, sure.” Hannibal opens the door and takes the small plastic bag from the
waiting guard. “Here you go, kid. Say, uh.” He claps a hand onto Newt’s
shoulder. “Don’t suppose you want dinner?”
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