I\'ll Do Anything

A/N: It is a spoiler of sorts, don’t cry to me if you read this without reading Vol. 6 and get this one little thing expose you you prematurely. I got warnings up durn it all, read ‘em!
Anyway, this is a little thing on Arnon, he had such a good story to be told that I couldn’t help myself. Yes there is going to be underage male/male sex, oral sex, prostitution, drug use, both consensual and non-consensual on all counts. This is a dark story and this is kind more like a prelude than anything else, so parts should get longer and far more involved. Don’t like it? Don’t read it! It’s that frigging simple. Hooray.
Disclaimer: I don’t own it.

I’ll Do Anything

“Sorry kid, I haven’t got an opening right now.”
A tired and let down grin crossed the boys’ face. “That’s okay, maybe I’ll try back later?”
“Maybe.” The man replied turning back into his store.
Arnon sighed and kicked his way down the sidewalk. This place had been his last hope for a job. He needed money, and fast, without his father around he and his mother were in dire straights. If he didn’t come up with some cash soon they might find themselves homeless. He simply couldn’t let that happen.
At the rate he was going though they may wind up like that anyway.
“So you’re looking for a little extra cash are ya’?”
He stopped in his tracks and tilted his head up at the strange blond man. “Yeah, what’s it to you?”
The man shrugged. “Just looking for a new employee is all. My last one took off on me, and I have deliveries to make.” He gave a friendly smile. “And you sort of look like you could use the money.”
“Yeah, I kind’a do.” Arnon shifted a little on his feet unsure of how comfortable he was with this. A guy talking about ‘deliveries’ on the street could mean only one thing, drug running.
“Look, drop by this place.” A slick black card with an address printed on it in white was flipped out at the kid, held neatly between two fingers. “Tomorrow at four and we’ll talk. Don’t want to, don’t show. It’s not my problem.” The man smiled again and turned down the opposite direction that Arnon was going.
He stood there a moment with the card in his hand. It slid nicely into place in his back pocket and he considered it.

* * *

His mother had been crying. God, it was all she did any more, he couldn’t stand to see it. If he could he’d knock the teeth right out of his fathers head for that alone. But he knew that wouldn’t help at all, they needed money, now.
Arnon folded the card nervously in his left hand as he reached his right one up to the door. He knocked three time and fell back a step, waiting. For a second he prayed this was the wrong place, that he’d just be yelled at by some big Hispanic guy and his angry wife for bothering them.
Then the door came open, just a crack. No angry tenant wanting to know what the hell he wanted, not even an empty apartment with no one to sucker him into a dangerous job. It was the blond man from before, a now crooked grin on his face.
“So you showed.” He opened the door wider and stepped to the side. “Come on in.”
The boy took a few steps into the apartment and found himself herded deeper within.
“I’m not going to hurt you kid. I need a runner after all, no use in doing damage to the labor, get it?” The door shut with a soft click, three locks snapped into place immediately after. “Call me Buck.”
Arnon turned to find a hand held out to him to shake. He took it slowly. “I’m Arnon.”
“Nice to meet you Arnon.” Buck made his way into a small living room that was, well, ‘lived in’ is as good a term as any. He lounged on the couch and motioned for Arnon to do the same. “So I take it you want the job.”
The boy nodded and sat stiffly on the couch. “I, I just need the money, you know?” He couldn’t meet the mans’ eyes and let them dart everywhere else.
Buck nodded. “I know, trust me, I know.” He sat forward on the couch and leaned far enough to reach for a package on the coffee table. “But you know we can’t just hand this sort of thing over to just anyone. So you’ll get a test.” He tossed the package at Arnon. “Take that to this address.” He held out a folded piece of paper between his fingers at the boy. “You won’t have to collect any money, just hand it over.”
Arnon stared at the address, easily committing it to memory before it was snatched away.
“They’ll call me when you get there, so hurry it up.” Buck said leaning back again. “Then come back here and we’ll talk some more.”
“O-okay.” The boy stuttered as he got up. He didn’t like the leering look he got when he moved.
Buck stood up after a beat and walked him to the door to undo the locks. “Look, just act natural. If you get caught hand it over and cooperate with the cops, we’ll get you out if the take you in.”
That was a lie if Arnon ever heard one, but it somehow made him feel better. “Yeah okay.” He walked a little stiffly down the hall all too aware of the eyes watching him until he turned a corner.

* * *

The delivery address was pizzeria on Twelfth Street that stank like sewer and was notoriously slow with its food. Arnon stepped in and glanced to the corner trying to properly recall the name of the person he was supposed to find.
“Just one?” A girl with a straight-back ponytail asked haphazardly holding a menu under one arm.
“Actually, I’m looking for Nicolas.” Arnon said shifting on his feet.
The girl nodded and jerked her thumb to the back. “Corner table kid.” She said before taking off, if she didn’t see what happened she didn’t have to know what happened.
He made his way into the back of the restaurant and glanced to the noted corner. A man surrounded by paperwork and dressed in a company green apron looked up. He seemed old but had a sharp look in his eyes as he took the sight of Arnon in. “You the new boy?” He asked in a gravely voice.
“Yeah.” Arnon held the package out to him. “I’m just supposed to deliver this.” He was amazed at how his voice didn’t break.
The man took the package and turned it over as if looking for some invisible note or sign that would tell him what was in it. After a moment he looked across to the cashier and nodded. A kid who had been leaning there reading a book picked up the phone and dialed.
Arnon stood there a moment unsure of what to do.
Pale eyes glanced back up at him. “Well, alright, take off, go back to Buck and see what he says. Unless of course you’ve taken on the second job.” There was an appraising up and down motion fthosthose eyes.
“S-second job?” Arnon asked as he backed up a step.
“Never mind, just get back to Buck.” The man immediately turned back to his papers and ignored him all together.
A little lost for words Arnon turned and headed back out the door.

* * *

Buck answered when he knocked but there was some lazy expression on his face that Arnon didn’t dare read. “Gee you’re quick.” There was some giggle at a double meaning that once more the boy chose not to look in to. “Alright, you got the job, you get a percent for every run, we say how much. You take it, collect if you’re told to and then go where you’re told to.” He shoved what looked like an off-brand chocolate bar into the kids’ hand. “Here ya’ go, can’t pay ya for that run, but at least you get something.”
Arnon stared a moment. “Yeah, thanks.” He shifted a little. “Say, um.” He saw the door pause, just about to be shut right in his face. “That guy, Nicolas, said something about a ‘second job’.”
Buck opened the door a little and looked Arnon up and down. “Yeah maybe, it does pay better, but only if you’re a good boy. Now get the hell out of here and be back tomorrow at the same time.” This time there was no pause as the door slammed shut.
Arnon tipped the candy bar in a false salute to the door and paced down the hall unwrapping the chocolate bar as he did.