Off to the Races

by Stuff'nStuff

Ace's life has pretty much always sucked. But he's aiming to change that, even if his methods a little less than tasteful. But after an unfortunate run-in with a cop, Ace is arrested. His lawyer is just about the polar opposite of Ace. But Ace can't help but admire Marco for his clean, simple life, can't help but want to share it. (MarcoxAce, viewer discretion advised)

(Aw man…what do I even say here? Umm…yeah. Just…yeah. I know, I know. I left ANOTHER cliffhanger on Bleeding Out and then proceed to write an unrelated one-shot. Well…what can I say? I'm a terrible human being.

Basically what happened is I was reading Umineko no Naku Koro Ni and listening to Pandora and the song Off To The Races by Lana Del Ray came on, and I was like O.O and rushed to tumblr to invest the next hour in my OTP (MarcoxAce, obviously) and then the overload of fanart plus the music equals…this. So blame it all on that song. (Which you should look up cuz it's good.)

Oh yeah, there's some stuff in here that's probably not true. Sorry.

DISCLAIMER: I don't own the lyrics to Off To The Races. Nor do I own One Piece. Nor am I witty enough to come up with a funny disclaimer.

WARNING: There's a reason this is rated 'M', people (namely STRONG language, offensive themes (I'm serious about this one. If you're easily offend-able, seriously, leave.), and…semi-smut (It's pretty brief)). If you aren't prepared for M rated content, you should LEAVE NOW.)

---

~My old man is a bad man but

I can't deny the way he holds my hand

And he grabs me, he has me by my heart

He doesn't mind I have a Las Vegas past

He doesn't mind I have an LA crass way about me

He loves me with every beat of his cocaine heart.~

Ace had always been in trouble. That was just about the summary of his life.

He grew up on a rough side of town, and age hadn't exactly improved his lot. His whole childhood, he'd been surrounded by every kind of social reject. Drug dealers. Druggies. Alcoholics. Thugs. Muggers. Whores. It wasn't all that surprising, as his 'caretaker' wasn't exactly a lightweight in the Chicago underground scene.

As he grew up, he began to attract attention, what with his dusky skin, spattering of freckles, smoky eyes, and slim figure. And hey, if he ever wanted anything better, he needed money for college.

Prostitution came easy to Ace.

He gained status among the other whores quickly. They liked him, and he brought in business. But of course, like everyone, he had to start at the bottom.

Ace lost his virginity at 15 to a gang bruiser.

Of course, he'd told the guy he was 19. What he was doing…wasn't exactly…legal. If the police found out, the man that hired him would be arrested for statutory rape, and Ace would be carted off to some 'reform center' where, to be honest, it was quite possible he'd be treated worse than he was by the people who hired him. 'If' the police found out. But hey, he wasn't talking. And he doubted the bruiser would go bragging to the cops about the male prostitute he'd hired.

Within the next two years, Ace had gained the title of 'courtesan' and could only be hired out by those higher in the gang hierarchy. And those who were willing to pay for the privilege. All in all, Ace had a fairly tidy sum of money. Not enough, but he was getting there. But it wasn't all upsides.

~Swimming pool glimmering darling

White bikini off with my red nail polish

Watch me in the swimming pool bright blue ripples you

Sitting sipping on your black Cristal

Oh yeah~

Rich guys…have weird fetishes. Ace surmised. It wasn't the first time he'd cross-dressed for a client, not even close. But the bikini and red nail polish weren't really working for him. Nonetheless, he wasn't exactly about to turn down two thousand dollars.

He'd been sent by his 'caretaker' (though he'd long rescinded any contact with Ace. There relationship was strictly business now.) to this man as a peace offering between two gangs. He was getting paid for the work, of course. He always got paid. But this time, as the reasons were political, it was important he do a damn good job. That was the reason for the higher price. The harder the job, the bigger the price-tag, after all. Ace had been able to get away with charging 5000 for a party once, but hell. He'd never do that again. He couldn't walk for a week.

Currently, the man had him swimming in his no doubt pricy penthouse pool. Ace was making a real show of it, just like he was supposed to, and he didn't think the man was going to maintain his composure for much longer. Not based on his expression and that certain spark in his eyes Ace knew all too well by now. Another flash of his leg, a flip of his hair- ah. There it was. The man was putting down his wineglass and walking over. Ace took a deep breath mentally. Here we go. He closed his eyes just for the barest of instants. Just a few more times. You're almost there. You're almost out.

~Light of my life, fire of my loins

Be a good baby, do what I want

Light of my life, fire of my loins

Give me them gold coins, gimme them coins~

Ace lay awake long after his client had fallen asleep, arm still tossed carelessly around Ace's bare waist. The way he held Ace was almost possessive. Ace couldn't help but glare at the ceiling at that thought. I'm not yours. You don't own me. Nobody does. When Ace had first started working, he'd felt disdain for his clients. Over time, that had faded, replaced by sheer apathy. That resentment only sparked up again sometimes, particularly in situations like this, or when someone said something implying Ace was for sale.

Ace could be hired, but he could never be bought.

And one day - one day soon, he promised himself - he wouldn't have to deal with it anymore. He wouldn't have to pretend to belong to anyone.

~And I'm off to the races, cases of Bacardi chasers

Chasing me all over town

Cause he knows I'm wasted, facing

Time again at Riker's Island and I won't get out~

"Son of a bitch." Ace panted. Footsteps echoed in the background, and he hoofed it around another corner, fighting not to stumble.

The guy in the bar had been a plant. A cop.

And prostitution wasn't legal in this district of New York.

He'd been sent to New York on a specialty job. Some politician. His plane home wasn't until the next day, so he thought he'd try to find a quick job. Well, that hadn't really worked out so well.

That bastard, Ace thought, his vision blurring. I may be breaking the law, but is it really legal for cops to drug suspects?! It was certainly shady, but he wouldn't put it past them. Cities like New York and Chicago…most cops were bad, and good cops got desperate. Catching a crook might be worth bending the rules, to someone like that. Ace stumbled again and swore vehemently.

He needed to find somewhere secluded to pass out. He knew he wouldn't last much longer against the drug.

The only reason he'd lasted this long at all was because he'd been exposed to other, similar drugs before. Common risk of being attractive and going to especially dodgy bars. When he'd first started, he'd been drugged twice. First time, he didn't wake up till…after. Second? Well…

Drugs got less effective the more you were exposed to them. The same was true of sedatives. Ace's previous exposure to them granted him a grace period to escape, but he didn't have long and that cop was still hot on his heels-

"Fuck." Ace managed to murmur before faceplanting on the concrete, unconscious.

~Because I'm crazy, baby I need you to come here and save me

I'm your little scarlet, starlet singing in the garden

Kiss me on my open mouth

Ready for you~

"I'll ask one more time. How old are you?" Ace stared at the table in front of him, silent. This question was what was central to everything. If he told the truth, said that his 18th birthday wasn't for another two months, he wouldn't go to jail, but he'd be shipped off to some therapist somewhere, or some kind of reform school. His freedom, his most prized possession, would be gone. If he told the lied, said he'd reached his legal majority, he would go to jail. Again, he'd lose his freedom.

Ace had been here for two hours now. They'd been questioning him. But he knew his rights, and he knew his way around the laws pertinent to him and his 'profession.' Probably better than these cops did.

"…I'm not saying anything until a lawyer is present. And I want you to take a blood test on me, right now." If they found drugs in his system, he could turn it around on the cop that arrested him. Play the suffering victim. He'd done it before, though not with drugs.

"Do you have money for a lawyer?" Ace fought the urge to quirk a sarcastic eyebrow at the investigator. Instead, he merely shook his head. The man sighed. "Very well. The state will appoint you one. And about the blood test, we'll take a blood draw and have it sent to our lab. We wanted to check you for drugs anyway." Ace looked the man in the eye for the first time in an hour.

"No. Send it to the lab in Chicago. I don't trust you guys here." In reality, not exactly the truth. Or at least not all of it. In actuality, it was more due to the fact that he'd done the blood worker in the Chicago lab a few…'favors.' He knew Ace, and he'd be willing and able to falsify test results to swing a trial in Ace's favor.

"And why would that be?" Ace allowed a sarcastic smile to come to his face.

"Might have something to do with your lackey drugging me." He snapped. The smile turned to a smirk. "And you know…my asshole's suddenly feeling rather sore. I think I might accuse him of rape. After all, with how quickly I fell unconscious, what he put in my drink had to be Rohypnol, the most common date-rape drug. Now…why would that be in my drink, huh? So do the lab chemist a favor and tell him to look for flunitrazepam, alright?" The officer had gone pale. Ace smirked mentally. He could turn this to his favor. Easily.

"I…I'll have a medic come in and take the blood sample. We'll send a copy of the results to your lawyer." Ace nodded and leaned back. The cop headed for the door. Just as he was about to head through it, Ace spoke up.

"Oh, by the way, unless you have a warrant you can only hold me for another hour and a half or so." The cop froze, going even paler. Through the slightly open door, Ace heard a chuckle. Now that had him curious.

"Seems this time you haven't sent me a complete dunce as a case, huh Officer Nolan?" Ace tried to subtly lean to the right to see who was behind the door. The officer stepped back, opening it all the way. A different man walked into the room.

Ace couldn't help but raise his eyebrows. Damn. I'd tap that for free.

A dark grey suit, not the super pricy kind, but fancy enough for business or a semi-formal event, coat unbuttoned. The shirt underneath was a rich blue, subtle and somewhat faded, giving it an air of age and refinement. A dark tie, only slightly darker than the suit, finished the look. Oh, and those damn sexy glasses.

Ace guessed the man couldn't have been older than thirty. He didn't have enough wrinkles to be any older. All the same…he had a timeless air about him. Like time just wouldn't ever touch him. He had a soft mouth, pulled quietly into a smile, and his half-lidded (absolutely enchanting) blue eyes gave him a sleepy, relaxed look. Blond hair, styled…oddly, topped his head.

He carried a briefcase, a scuffed, somewhat old-looking thing, and placed it on the table in front of Ace, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite of him, where the cop had sat moments before. He turned and smiled briefly at the cop.

"Thanks for your time, officer. If you will please excuse us now." The cop nodded briskly and left, shutting the door behind him. Silence descended.

"Hello, my name is Marco. I'm going to be your lawyer. I'm a professor of law at New York University." He extended his hand smoothly, and Ace responded in kind, smiling slightly. Not a cop. Good. I've had enough of those bastards for one day.

"I'm Ace." Alright, time to start the cycle of lies. "I…well…" He faked a nervous bite to the lip. "I have a plane tomorrow, do you think I'll be able to catch it?" This lawyer may be attractive, but just looking at him you could tell he wasn't the kind to associate with Ace and his crowd. Ace doubted he'd ever broken a law in his life. Hell, he doubted Marco had ever broken the speed limit. Marco raised his eyebrows.

"You don't live in New York?" Ace shook his head.

"No, I'm from Chicago. I was only scheduled to be here for a few days." Marco popped open the briefcase and withdrew a notepad and pen. He wrote something down, eyebrows furrowed lightly.

"What were you doing in New York? Visiting family?" Ace snorted mentally. Externally, he shook his head again, faking a nervous look.

"No. I don't even know anyone who lives in New York! I was here for," Ace's mind flicked through excuses. A little bit of truth helped sell every lie, so… "an internship with a politician." Images of a hotel suite, wandering hands, and nasty scented candles flicked through his mind. Raciest. Internship. Ever. Marco nodded, taking something else down on the paper.

"What exactly is it you're accused of?" Marco asked, looking up at him. "I wasn't briefed on the way in." Ace faked a wide-eyed look before casting his eyes away, feigning embarrassment, willing his face to redden.

"W-Well…I…" Ace licked his lips, continuing the façade. "That cop…he thought..." He cast his eyes briefly up to Marco's face before flicking them back down. "…He thought I was a prostitute…" Ace murmured, barely audible. The pregnant pause was perfect. Ace would have laughed, if his continued act weren't so important. Guy like Marco? Ace almost doubted he knew male prostitutes existed. Ace couldn't resist, he flicked his eyes up to Marco's face, just for the barest of instants.

Marco was staring at him, but not in surprise. Or at least not obvious surprise. His eyes were still half-lidded and he regarded Ace seriously. Ace felt something in his chest flutter under Marco's gaze and he fought not to show his confusion on his face. What the hell? What was with this feeling? Ace had never felt anything like it. Marco was doing something. Something with his eyes. Something Ace had never seen before. And it fascinated Ace, drew him in.

Marco didn't have that spark of lust Ace had seen in everyone's eyes since he'd turned twelve.

"…Well is it true?"

Marco's question froze Ace for a moment. The hell? That was definitely not the reaction he'd expected out of Marco. Ace's eyes were on Marco's face again, and he didn't have to fake the look of surprise. And then, something surprising happened.

…For half a moment, Ace almost said yes.

"N-No! How could you even ask that?" Ace replied. Marco seemed to study Ace for a moment and Ace wondered if Marco saw through him. He had put a rather awkward pause between Marco's question and his response. Denial should be instantaneous in a situation like that. Ace's eyes landed back on the table. Shit. I have to pull this together if I want out of here. Marco had a tiny smile on his mouth. A knowing smile, and that could spell serious shitstorm for Ace.

"Sorry, standard question." And just like that, Marco's eyes were off Ace, back on the paper. But the tiny smile stayed on his mouth. It confused Ace. If Marco didn't know what was going on, why would he be smiling? And if he did, shouldn't he be disgusted with Ace? Hell, Ace was disgusted with himself, some days. Marco leaned back in his chair, relaxed eyes back on Ace. "So. Why don't you tell me your side of the story."

"W-Well…" Ace looked down, faking a thoughtful pause. "…I was in that bar for a reason. The guys I'm working for are fond of the Chinese food the place next door sells. I was there to pick up dinner for all of us, I'd just gone into the bar to wait while they prepared the food…" Ace trailed off.

"Go on."

"I walked there," That bit was true. "and…well, it was kinda far, so I was thirsty. I went in for a drink." Marco gave him a look and opened his mouth, but Ace continued before he could speak. "A non-alcoholic drink," It was true. He didn't drink on the job. Not since the second drugging incident. "I'm not old enough to drink alcohol anyway. I was just having," Ace's eyes flicked over Marco's hair again. "some pineapple juice. I love that stuff, and you can only ever find it at bars because they use it as Bacardi chasers." Ace paused again, then continued. "Well…I was sitting at a table, and this guy – the cop – came and asked if he could sit down." Ace bit his lip. "I would have said no, but the bar was really full, and he seemed nice…" Ace forced his shoulders to begin trembling slightly, and blinked hard, forcing tears to rise to his eyes. He swallowed. "…But he must have drugged me." Here Marco looked really interested, his eyes widening slightly. Ace blinked again, letting the first tears fall. "I…I didn't realize it at first, but about…I don't know, 10 minutes later, I started to feel dizzy, and my vision was getting blurry." Ace shook his head, faking a shaky half-sob of a breath and a scared, haunted face. "I freaked out. So I left the bar, started running-" Ace looked down, forcing a sound like a choked sob. He looked up at Marco, tearful. "I-I'm scared. I…I think he might have-" Ace cut himself off again, clenching his hands and looking down. Marco was looking at him seriously.

"Did you have them take a blood sample?" Ace nodded, wiping at his crocodile tears.

"I- Y-yeah. Well…I asked them to, but nobody's actually done it yet." Marco stood abruptly, chair sliding back, and marched to the door. He opened it and stuck his head out.

"My client says he requested a drug test. Why hasn't that been done yet? That's bordering on destruction of evidence, if he really was drugged." Marco half-shouted out the door. Ace heard a flurry of hasty movement in response, and not more than four minutes later, a man in a medical jacket came in, syringe in hand.

Ace winced and looked away as the man took the sample. He didn't care what people said, needles were fucking creepy. The doctor took a few vials of blood and promptly left. Marco approached again, taking his seat again. He was looking at Ace seriously.

"Have you requested a rape test?" Ace looked away.

"I…no. I mean, the guy's a cop. He'd know what they look for, right? I doubt it'd prove anything conclusive." Ace sniffed pathetically, milking more tears. "I-I mean…this is crazy! I'm not- I'm not a prostitute! But that man…what if he's just trying to cover up what he did? What chance do I honestly have? I don't have any friends here, there were no witnesses or anything." Ace buried his face in his hands, running his fingers through his hair, heaving his shoulders in another false sob. "…I just…really hate today." Ace felt a warm hand land on his shoulder.

"I'm going to get you out of here, okay?" Ace looked up at him through his hair, and Marco smiled comfortingly. "It's like you said when I first came in. Unless they have a warrant they can only hold you for a little while longer. And if that drug test comes back positive, you have grounds to press charges, if you so choose." Ace gave a tiny nod of understanding and Marco continued. "What time is your flight?" Ace paused to consider the question, honestly struggling to remember.

"…2:30AM. The red-eyes are always less expensive…" Ace mumbled. Marco frowned and glanced at his watch.

"…I think you're going to have to reschedule." Ace sat up straight, looking at Marco, alarmed.

"What?!"

"Well…it's already 11:30. You won't get out of here until one o'clock, and I don't think you can make it through security in that time." Shit shit shit! Ace couldn't afford to miss that plane. Not at all. But what Marco said was true. If he didn't get out till one, there wasn't a chance of him catching that plane. He felt a real lump rising in his throat and buried his face in his hands again.

"…Damn it." Marco was looking at him curiously.

"What is it?" Ace shook his head, feeling real tears. All this time. All this time and this had to happen now. He swallowed thickly.

"My college entrance exam is tomorrow. If I miss it…I won't be able to apply again, at least until next year, but probably ever. My high school grades weren't…exactly stellar. I was barely able to convince them to let me take the entrance exam this year! I…" All his dreams felt like they were falling apart in front of him. All these years. It couldn't end like this. That first, agonizing night, biting his wrist till it bled to keep from screaming, all those disgusting, hungry men claiming to own him like property, all the degrading things he'd done, all the things he'd let people say…it couldn't all just lead to this. "…I wanted this so much."

Marco stared at him in silence for a moment, considering. He took a deep breath. "…Well then we better get you out of here, huh?" Marco stood. He glanced back at Ace. "Follow me. And don't say anything until we're outside, alright?" Ace blinked at him, confused and surprised, yet he felt a tiny thrum of hope in his chest. Marco turned and walked to the door, and Ace stood, following close behind. Marco glanced over at his shoulder at Ace, and Ace smiled weakly, nodding.

Marco opened the door and led the way out into the police station.

Of course eyes instantly focused on them, and the investigator, the one who'd interrogated Ace before, stood from his desk, looking shocked. He approached Marco, but Marco continued walking, Ace on his heels. When the cop opened his mouth to speak, Marco beat him to it, cutting him off.

"It's your lucky day, Detective. My client has decided to not press charges or continue investigation into the absolutely hideous treatment he received at the hands of the NYPD. The way it stands, he could press charges for unlawful drugging, arrest without a warrant, mistreatment, excessive force, and, if further investigations proved conclusive, rape. Against one of your officers or the whole department, his choice. If he pressed charges on any one of these offenses, the monetary compensation would be monumental, more than I feel you'd want. Especially on the charges of unlawful drugging and rape. That could even get your officer arrested. On the contrary, you have no proof to back up your one charge, of illicit prostitution, besides the testimony of an officer who is now under suspicion of the above listed crimes. What judge would honestly hear your side of the case? Good evening." They'd continued walking as Marco was speaking, the detective looking more and more buffeted by Marco's words, and so, by the time he finished speaking, they'd reached the door. Without an instant's hesitation, Marco opened it and led Ace through, the detective stopping behind them looking stunned. The door swung shut behind them.

No one followed them out.

Once they were around the corner and out of sight of the police station, Ace couldn't help it any more. He jumped forward, wrapping his arms around Marco's torso, hugging him tightly. A massive, relieved smile stretched his mouth.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." Ace was practically crying. It was almost ridiculous, how happy he was in that one moment.

~My old man is a tough man but

He's got a soul as sweet as blood red jam

And he shows me, he knows me

Every inch of my tar black soul

He doesn't mind I have a flat broke down life

In fact he says he thinks it's why he might like about me

Admires me, the way I roll like a Rolling Stone~

Upon discovering Ace didn't have a car nor money for a taxi, Marco offered to drive him. Ace agreed, thanking him profusely, Marco just waved him off, saying it was already so late he was going to be tired tomorrow during his lecture anyway, another hour didn't matter.

The roads were quiet and empty, and it wasn't long before Marco spoke again.

"…You're a great actor, you know." Ace froze, looking over to Marco, shock apparent on his face. "You'd have fooled almost anyone else." Ace stared at him, wide-eyed. Marco took his eyes off the road for an instant to glance at him. "So. Why don't you tell me your real story?" Ace stared at Marco in silence for another moment.

"…Why should I? Why do you want to know?" He was instantly defensive, bristling and cautious. He glanced out the windshield. Was Marco really taking him to the airport or was this a trap? Had he been wrong? Had he misjudged Marco?

"Well, I did just get you out of a police station. And if you're wondering why I did that if I know the truth about you…well. Not all of it was a lie. So now you've got me curious. You really do want to go to college, which is…unusual, for someone in your…position." Ace fought not to sneer at Marco, but didn't quite manage it.

"You don't need to be so politically correct. You can call me a whore. I'm used to it by now." He almost snarled. Marco glanced at him calmly again.

"I don't think you are. And I don't think you should have to pretend to be." Marco's eyes looked…sad. "…What happened to you? What brought you to this?" Ace looked away. "It's not like I'm going to tell anyone. I just think there must be a story there. You seem much too…alive to be among criminals." Ace swallowed. Part of him wanted to tell Marco. Really wanted to tell him. It was just…nobody had ever been there, had cared to listen to his story. Had cared about how he felt while he sold his soul, piece by piece. Nobody had ever cared about him.

But he could tell Marco did. He could hear it in his voice.

"…My parents died when I was just a baby." Ace started quietly. Marco blinked, glancing at him briefly before returning his eyes to the road. Ace smiled coldly. "Gang violence. Chicago having the highest murder rate isn't just a number. Well…after my parents died, I was passed on to a friend of my father's. A high-up in one of Chicago's gangs. I was raised more by the drug dealers and money launderers than him." Ace snorted. "As a kid, one of my role-models was a hitman. I thought of him like my big brother. The prostitutes were my sisters. They were the ones who coddled me, actually treated me like a child." Ace sighed.

"Seeing all of that…seeing what I could become…I knew I didn't want it. I knew I wanted to get out, before someone shot me up and I got addicted to morphine or crack. But…you can't just decide something like that and have it happen. You have to work for it." Ace took a breath.

"…By the time I figured all of this out, I was fourteen. I was starting to grow up, going to a shitty high school, being avoided by just about everyone my age, either out of fear or disdain. I heard about college in school. I knew I needed an education if I wanted to get out. But an education is expensive, Marco. I knew I needed to earn the money to actually do it. And I saw the way some people looked at me."

"I asked the woman in charge of the whores about it. Asked her if I could join them. I saw them making money. The only other way I could have done it was drug dealing, and I knew I wouldn't do that. She told me to turn away. She told me I shouldn't. I said I had to. After a while she agreed." Ace took a deep breath.

"The first few months she just had me observe and learn from the girls. It was a long time before it was actually…my turn. By that time, I'd learned how to seduce. How to pleasure." Ace swallowed, shaking his head slowly. "I'd seen a lot of shit. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified. But I couldn't back down, I wouldn't. And so…" Ace shook his head, feeling absolutely disgusted. "…And so for fifty dollars I let him-" Ace couldn't finish the sentence, rubbing at his mouth. Deafening silence fell.

"…How old were you?" A bitter smile came to Ace's face.

"Fifteen. I didn't even have a driver's permit yet. Hell, I'd never been to a play ground in my whole life, but I'd already smoked my first cigarette, drank more alcohol than kids three years older than me, and taken it up the ass." Ace took a breath.

"…I'm sorry." Marco looked at him briefly again, and there was genuine sadness in his eyes.

"After that, things fell into a kind of routine. As time passed, I built up a name for myself. Started bringing in higher-class clients. Started being asked for. I could be more selective." Ace cast his eyes on Marco. "I was good at what I did, Marco. As soon as I could, I classed my act up. Expensive clients only. I became a luxury people paid good money to have." Ace looked down. "…I've done some really sick shit. There are really perverse people out there. But I filled every fetish. I served every desire. Because I had to. Because, through it all, I knew that I was going to get out. That one day, people couldn't call me a whore, slut, fag, cunt. That one day I wouldn't wake up in a stranger's bed, limping to the door, picking the money up off the bedside table. One day I'd be entirely free. But I needed the money. So no matter what was asked of me, the answer was yes." Ace closed his eyes for a moment.

"…My job here was my last. I have all the money I need. I scraped my grades up high enough for the community college to consider taking me, if I can pass an entrance exam. It's hard to go to school when you get two hours of sleep a night. It's hard to do homework when you're spending all afternoon and night being some rich fucker's doll. But I did it, Marco." Ace turned almost desperate eyes to Marco, begging him to understand. "I've worked harder than anyone. I want this more than anyone. I didn't take the road I walked because I wanted to, I took it because it was the only one open to me. Can you honestly blame me for it?" Silence fell. Ace felt his heart crack and wondered why. Of course Marco wouldn't be compassionate. Why should he be? Ace was just some stranger with a sob-story. Some whore with a sob-story that he had no way of knowing was even true. Ace looked away, unable to look at Marco's face.

"…You're incredible." Marco's voice was quiet. It was only the dead silence of the road and the car that allowed Ace to hear it. "You're incredible." Ace blinked, then looked to Marco in surprise and confusion. Marco wore a stunned expression.

"You've been through so much, and yet…wow. I mean…you've taken on impossible odds, been beaten down in every way I can possibly imagine, and yet…you're still better than most of the people I've ever met. You did it all so you could go to college, get an education, live a better life. That's amazing, Ace. Dedication like that…" Marco shook his head. "…I don't know if I could have done it." Marco turned awed eyes to Ace. "…There aren't words to say how much you impress me." Ace felt his chest do that odd fluttery thing again. He felt tears rising in his eyes. How could Marco possibly admire him? Look up to him? Ever since Ace had first started working, people had looked at him with nothing but disdain and disgust or lust. There was nothing else. Marco looking at him like that, with admiration, awe? Ace swallowed thickly. He…He had value in Marco's eyes. He was more than just an object in Marco's eyes. He was human in Marco's eyes. Complete, unbroken, whole.

It wasn't long after that that they arrived at the airport. Ace slid out of the car, turning back to address Marco one last time. "Thanks for everything, Marco." Ace gave him a genuine smile. "…You've done more for me than I think you really know." Ace shut the door, turning away.

Just as he was about to head into the building, he heard Marco call out to him, smile obvious in his voice.

"Hey Ace! You should transfer to NYU!"

~Likes to watch me in the glass room bathroom, Chateau Marmont

Slippin' on my red dress, puttin' on my makeup

Glass film, perfume, cognac, lilac

Fumes, says it feels like heaven to him~

Ace stood under the showerhead, savoring the feeling of the hot water washing away all the stress and fatigue of plane travel. He really didn't like planes. Tight, uncomfortable, surrounded by strangers. For hours. It sucked.

Ace sighed and turned off the water, stepping out of the shower and grabbing a towel. He felt anxiety building in his chest. It was only a few hours now until the test. He was doing his best to not have a panic attack. This was all or nothing. Ace rubbed briskly at his hair with the towel, trying to dry it, trying to relax. His hair, thick as a forest, always took forever to dry.

Ace pulled the towel from his head just in time for the wad of fabric to collide with it.

Ace caught it before it fell to the floor. It was red. He regarded it uncomprehendingly.

"Ace! Client downstairs for you! Says to put that on!" Ace blinked in shock. He gripped the red fabric loosely, letting it unfold. It was a dress. Ace felt his chest constrict and his stomach do a flip. He swallowed thickly. Could he really do it? After all this time, all these years? An image of Marco's eyes flashed randomly through his mind. Of Marco's awed, amazed expression at Ace. Marco would want him to do this. He wanted him to do this. He wasn't sure he was ready, wasn't sure at all, but it was time to try.

"…No." The word was tiny. Unfamiliar. He realized that his 'caretaker' wouldn't have heard it.

"…What did you just say?"

He swallowed, and tried again. "No." It was stronger that time. Clear. Silence followed. A heartbeat passed. Another.

The door slammed open, crashing into the wall loudly. Ace jumped, flinching back. His 'caretaker' stormed into the room, face dark. Ace's eyes widened, his heart clenched, and he took a frightened step back.

It wasn't nearly enough.

His 'caretaker' grabbed Ace by his shoulders and threw him into the tiled wall. Ace cried out, falling to the floor. A hard kick connected with his stomach.

"You little fuck, what did you just say?!" He crouched down, grabbing a fistful of Ace's hair and dragging him up, Ace whimpering at the pain in his scalp. "Because I could have sworn you just said no. But that would be ridiculous. Because worthless whores like you aren't allowed to say no." Ace winced, clutching at his bruised shoulder and trying to lessen the pressure on his scalp. He took a deep breath, swallowing his fear.

"I. Said. No." He swallowed again. "I'm not doing this any more. Never again. I'm not a worthless whore. I'm a person. And I'm going to get an actual life. Today I'm taking an entrance exam and I'm getting into college. I'll never see you again, I'll never see this place again, I'll never see any sick, perverse douchebags again, I'll never wear a damned dress or bikini or collar ever again." Ace took a deep breath, feeling powerful.

"I'll never be bought again because I can't be bought again because I have value."

For the moment of silence that followed, Ace thought he'd won.

And then, via the grip on his scalp, his head was slammed so hard into the tile wall he saw stars. Ace clutched desperately to consciousness, dark spots swimming across his vision.

"You worthless, useless sack of shit. You have value? You? You're nothing but a whore. The only 'value' you have is what you can get for your ass." He was being dragged over the tile floor, towards the counter of the bathroom, towards the mirror. "Let me show you exactly and only what you're good for."

~Light of his life, fire of his loins

Keep me forever, tell me you own me

Light of your life, fire of your loins

Tell me you own me, gimme them coins~

Ace couldn't stifle the cry of pain at the powerful thrust of the man behind him. He felt tears bite at his eyes but forced them down. Ace wouldn't give him the satisfaction. Ace bit his lip and squeezed his eyes shut, only to have his head yanked up again by his hair.

"Look, damn you! THIS IS ALL YOU ARE. THIS IS ALL YOU WILL EVER BE." The man snarled. Ace looked in the mirror, feeling a sob rising in his chest.

He saw himself, bent over, naked, a man he didn't love taking everything from him. He was weak. He was nothing. He was worthless. Only a toy to be used by others. Ace sobbed, tears escaping his eyes, streaming down his cheeks. Another brutal thrust and Ace choked on his breathing.

Ace didn't know how long it went on, didn't care. It didn't matter. He didn't matter. There was only pain, which was all he could ever have.

When the man finally came, Ace did no more than whimper. His own tears stained his face, and bitter hopelessness, bitter dissolution crushed his heart. He was a fool. Of course he couldn't get out. This was all there was for him. This was all he was to the world. All he could be. What had he been thinking? That he could…what? Be a business man? A travel agent? A banker? A lawyer, like Marco? Ridiculous. He was nothing. Only valuable for his pretty face and the price of his ass.

The man pulled out of him and Ace slumped to the floor, defeated.

"Clean yourself up. And get dressed. You've still got a client waiting." Ace heard retreating footsteps and the slam of the bathroom door. He flinched at the loud sound.

He sat there, numb, empty, cold.

Slowly he reached out and took the dress.

~And I'm off to the races, cases of Bacardi chasers

Chasing me all over town

Cause he knows I'm wasted, facing

Time again at Riker's Island and I won't get out~

The man was some ultra-rich stock-market dealer. He'd hired Ace out for the week. When Ace entered the room wearing the dress, feigning shyness, all he could do was stare at the man bleakly from behind his eyes. He didn't care anymore. Because it didn't matter anymore. Because this was all he would ever have, this was normal.

The man pulled Ace into his lap and Ace didn't wince at the fresh pain in his ass.

~Because I'm crazy, baby I need you to come here and save me

I'm your little scarlet, starlet singing in the garden

Kiss me on my open mouth~

As it turned out, that client intended to take him to a party. To show Ace off to his friends, or some equally egotistical bullshit. Only it didn't matter. It only was. Because Ace didn't think anymore, didn't disdain at his clients. They were a different kind of human than he was, made for a different purpose. Ace was for sex and physical beauty. They were for success and the global economy. Ace's dull eyes wandered out the window, down to the city streets far below. For the barest instant, Ace thought he saw a familiar tuft of blond hair.

But then it started to rain.

~Now I'm off to the races, laces

Leather on my waist is tight and I am fallin' down

I can see your face is shameless, Cipriani's basement

Love you but I'm going down~

The client had some kind of a bondage fetish. It explained the strange leather thing he had Ace wearing, as well as the blindfold. Ace felt hands wandering over his body, caressing, exploring, hungry. Ace barely felt it. It didn't matter. Ace faked an erotic moan for the client.

The man's mouth landed on his neck, his hands wandering lower…

~God I'm so crazy, baby, I'm sorry that I'm misbehaving

I'm your little harlot, starlet, Queen of Coney Island

Raising hell all over town

Sorry 'bout it~

Ace ended up needing to go to the hospital because of an overdose. He hadn't taken the drug himself, it'd been injected into him by a client who was looking for something 'new.' By that point it didn't matter anyway. Ace was a cheap whore now. He'd lost the spark that made him so attractive. He didn't try to please anymore; he just let others please themselves.

He went into a coma for two weeks.

He didn't know a familiar face sat by his side nearly the whole time.

~My old man is a thief and I'm gonna stay and pray with him 'till the end

But I trust in the decision of the Lord to watch over us

Take him when he may, if he may

I'm not afraid to say that I'd die without him

Who else is gonna put up with me this way?~

When Ace first woke up, he didn't recognize Marco. He was in the full throes of withdrawals. The drug had permanently taken his sight in his right eye as well. Marco had tears in his eyes, seeing Ace like that. What could have happened to him? Why hadn't he gone to college? But when Ace became coherent for the first time, Marco didn't ask that.

He just leaned forward and embraced Ace, fighting not to cry.

~I need you, I breathe you, I never leave you

They would rue the day I was alone without you

You're lying with your gold chain on, cigar hanging from your lips

I said "Hon' you never looked so beautiful as you do now, my man."

It still held true that Ace didn't know anyone in New York. No family, no friends, even his gang in Chicago didn't want him anymore. Not that Marco would have ever let them take Ace back anyway. When Ace was released from the hospital, he didn't have anywhere to go.

Marco didn't hesitate to take him home.

Ace was still very weak for the first weeks. Marco did his best to take care of him. It was surprising, even to him, how accommodating he was of Ace. Here was a boy he barely knew, with whom he'd only had two real conversations (Ace's delirious murmurings in the hospital definitely didn't count), yet he was perfectly willing and perfectly comfortable with taking Ace into his home. Caring for him. Marco just found something…natural about spending time with Ace. He just had such a brightness about him, something magnetic that begged for Marco to take it in a nurture it.

Well…before the overdose he did.

Marco still didn't know what had happened over the weeks between the time he'd bid Ace farewell at the airport and hearing from one of his students that there was a new face at the hospital. He'd tried to gently broach the subject with Ace, but Ace would flinch, a dead look coming into his eyes. Marco hated it. It didn't belong there.

As time passed, Ace began to revitalize. It was slow going at first, and the first real breakthrough was when he'd brought home a little potted flower for Ace to take care of, thinking it a good project for the recovering patient.

Ace smiled.

And Marco knew there was still hope.

Weeks, months passed. An absolutely frigid winter and damp spring later, and Ace was…well, better. There were still things he wouldn't talk about, still topics that brought fear or pain to his face, but his energy, his life was returning.

Marco knew he was back when Ace asked to go outside.

Marco took him to Central Park, and the two of them spent the afternoon wandering its paths and watching the ducklings. Dappled sunlight touched Ace's skin for the first time in far too long, his pale skin rejoicing in the sensation.

He laughed.

Ace didn't know how long it had been since he'd really laughed. Genuinely laughed. Probably years. It certainly felt like it. To Marco, the sound was like music. As Ace spread his arms and tossed his head back, welcoming the sun, Marco realized two things.

Ace was free. Just like he'd always wanted to be.

And Marco loved him.

Of course, he didn't speak a word of it to Ace. With Ace's life being what it had been, Marco sincerely doubted Ace would be eager to start any kind of sexual relationship ever again. So Marco quietly tucked his feelings away, but couldn't help smiling whenever he saw Ace happy.

The fourth of July, when Marco had taken Ace to a fireworks show, proved Marco wrong, though. Wrong in the best way. Ace had been beyond excited. He'd never seen a fireworks show, after all. He'd practically jumped out of his skin when the first one went off, but by the grand finale, he was cheering and grinning like everyone else. And then the last firework went off.

And Ace reached over, grabbed Marco's face, turned it towards him, and kissed him full on the mouth.

~And we're off to the races, places

Ready, set the gate is down and now we're goin' in

To Las Vegas chaos, Casino Oasis, honey it is time to spin

Boy you're so crazy, baby, I love you forever not maybe

You are my one true love, you are my one true love~

Marco had been partially right, Ace was very skittish about their relationship at first. Not that Marco blamed him in any way at all. Light kisses and brief embraces were what Ace was comfortable with, for the first few months. Marco was perfectly willing to give him all the time he needed. He'd never dream of doing anything that would put that now too-familiar deadness back in Ace's eyes or to rekindle that shuddering fear.

But in winter, when the city got truly glacial, Marco was surprised to find Ace slipping into bed beside him more than once. It could have been just for warmth, but he was willing to be close to Marco for extended periods of time, which was a gesture of such trust that Marco didn't stop smiling all night.

Ace loved Christmas, and when a little research proved New Year's to be Ace's birthday, they celebrated that too. They went to dinner, rented a movie, and Marco bought Ace a beautiful, vintage copy of The Lord of the Rings. He had a feeling Ace would love fantasy.

Ace registered for classes that fall.

~You are my one true love~

That winter was as bitterly cold as the last, but Ace was warm and content, beneath the covers. Marco's arm was wrapped gently around Ace's waist, cradling him to his chest like something special, something precious. Marco was dead asleep, his quiet breathing rhythmic and soothing. They were so close Ace could feel the dull thud of Marco's heart. The way Marco had his arms around Ace was possessive. The thought made Ace smile.

Ace didn't mind belonging if Marco was the one he belonged to.

---

(A/N: Yup. Ummm…don't kill me please. I know I'm way too mean to Ace. :( But at least he got a happy ending…?

Hope you…enjoyed? …That somehow doesn't seem the right word to describe a reaction to this story. QnQ

Please leave a review, let me know what you thought. (Yes, even if you absolutely hated it. If I really get enough dislikes I'll take it down.)

…Also, let me know if this is too…extreme. Because then I'll be more than willing to take it down.

Thanks for the feedback!

~Stuff'nStuff)