Jack goes inside with the intention of finding Pitch. What he's going to do after finding Pitch he's not quite sure, but he thinks it'll be pretty fun.
The room is bright and glittering, obnoxious in its white marble and crystal chandelier grandeur. Everyone is dressed in something that cost at least a thousand bucks and they're knocking back the free champagne, trying to drink enough to pay for their entry fee.
In the sea of tuxes and ball gowns it's hard to spot Pitch, and before Jack gets much of a chance he hears his name being called. It's Ben, his dad's best friend and business partner. Jack gives him a quick smile and tries to turn back to his Pitch-spotting, but Ben isn't done with him. He approaches and puts his arm over Jack's shoulder, leading him to the front of the room.
"These tight-fisted socialites aren't giving up much of their money tonight," Ben says with a grin. "You know what they're like. The more money you have, the less willing you are to spend it."
"That's what they say," Jack says, feeling awkward. "But you always manage to raise record amounts every year."
"Yes indeed, and though this year's been disappointing, I've had a wonderful idea. Will you help me?"
"Sure, whatever," Jack says, wondering why Pitch is so hard to spot. He was well over six feet, he should stand out like a fucking giraffe.
"Excellent," Ben says, and pulls Jack up onto the small stage. Grabbing a spoon to rap against his glass, he attracts the attention of the room. Two hundred fake smiles turn to them, and Jack takes his elevated position to finally find Pitch, standing near the back of the room with a newly acquired glass of champagne.
"Thank you all for coming," Ben starts. "And for your continued support of our charity. The auction is about to begin, but before we start to look at vases and jewellery we have something much lovelier to auction off: Jack."
"What?!" Jack turns to stare at Ben, but with one hand on his shoulder, painfully tight, Ben thrusts Jack to the front of the stage. Either he can make a scene or he can roll with it; right now he's settling for frozen with shock.
"A date with Jack - now I know there are some ladies out there who are interested in that!"
A titter from the side of the stage - Marta and Melly, the daughters of one of his dad's friends and the nastiest pieces of work Jack's ever met. They have two favourite hobbies when they're with Jack: bullying topic du jour (their favourites are blaming him for his mother's death or telling him that he's going to hell for being gay), or groping him in ways that only Jamie has ever touched him before. They'd look out of place in Mean Girls for being too awful and he abso-fucking-lutely has no desire whatsoever to go on a date with either of them.
"Ben," Jack whispers, "No, I don't want to-"
"And while it's officially just a date - well, it depends how much you bid," Ben adds with a wink, and Melly and Marta grin up at him. "Let's start the bidding at five hundred," Ben says, his had tightening even more on Jack's shoulder, making him gasp in pain.
What the hell is wrong with Ben? Is this actually happening? If Ben had asked him then that would be a different thing, but Jesus.
Melly starts, is quickly outbid by an older lady that Jack doesn't recognise but who seems to be doing it for charity rather than for the sake of molesting Jack. The bidding goes to a third woman, clearly already drunk, and then is battered around between the three of them. The older lady drops out first, then the drunk, and Melly looks up at Jack with a nasty smile.
"Ten thousand dollars," Ben breathes, cheeks pink with excitement. "Anyone generous enough to too that?"
"Twelve thousand," says Pitch, and Jack looks at him with the deepest gratitude he's ever felt.
Ben smiles, delighted. "Twelve thousand! How generous!"
"Why would Jack want to go on a date with an old man?" Melly says, too loudly, and Marta mutters her agreement.
"He's hardly an old man and trust me, I want him way more than I want you," Jack says, directing his most charming smile at them.
"That's twelve thousand going once - unless we have any more bidders?" Melly and Marta whisper amongst themselves, but apparently this is out of their budget. Jack is so relieved he actually feels a little faint. "Twice - three times- Sold! Pitch, come forward to arrange your date!"
Smoothly Pitch works his way through the crowd, which parts before him in a wave of whispers. Pitch seems unconcerned by what anyone might think, so Jack decides to take the same mindset.
The compère takes their place on the stage, and Ben waves Pitch to a small booth at one aside of the room and pushes Jack into it.
"Most generous of you, Pitch. But then Jack is a pretty thing isn't he?"
After what just happened, Ben's words make Jack's skin crawl, and he moves away from his touch.
"It's very generous of Jack to agree to such a thing," Pitch says with an shrug. "I can have the money to you tomorrow."
"For a little extra, perhaps something - more - can be arranged," Ben says, and Jack pushes away from the table.
"What the hell, Ben?!"
"It's for charity, Jack," Ben says, his voice nothing but reason. "I told you - we haven't raised much this year. It would be such a shame if this was the first year that our figures went down, just because you came over all prudish."
"I will pay for a date and nothing more," Pitch says, looking at Ben through narrowed eyes. "I will assume that everything else is just a joke, and in poor taste at that. Considering that this is to raise funds for his mother's foundation, I can't even imagine what she would make of you trying to sell her son."
"Ah- Of course. All in jest." Ben beams widely. "Why don't I let you and Jack decide on where to go for your date? I have some turn-of-the-century figurines to sell!"
Ben hurries off and Jack slides back in his seat, feeling shaken. That was just a joke, right? It must have been. He's known Ben all his life – thinks of him as an uncle. What kind of uncle would try to prostitute his nephew? It's ridiculous. It musthave been a joke.
Almost as ridiculous is the way that Jack feels kind of insulted that Pitch wasn't willing to pay to have sex with him. Of course, he'd have been fucking furious if he had tried to negotiate a price with Ben. But still.
"You don't have to go on a date with me if you don't want me," Jack says, trying not to sound too petulant.
"And who says I don't want you?" He sips his champagne and there is a shimmer of heat in his gaze that makes Jack's mouth dry and makes his trousers suddenly seem uncomfortably tight.
Jack blinks. "Well - I - what just happened, you know? If it's just for charity-"
"It seemed to me that Benard was trying to force you into something that you didn't want to do. The way I see it, if the date goes well then we can reassess then. But if we do have sex, it will be because you want me, not because you were forced into it to uphold this strange version of charity."
"Huh," Jack says. "So- Do you want me?"
Pitch looks at him for a long, long moment and Jack realises that his eyes really do look golden, and they're really pretty, and for all that he's a long way from handsome Pitch is actually kind of hot. And then he reaches over the table, grabs Jack by the lapels and pulls him into a kiss. It's only a few seconds, little more than a brief flick of Pitch's tongue into his mouth, before Pitch pulls away and stands, straightening out his tux and looking down at Jack with a hitched eyebrow.
He offers a business card and Jack takes it, dazed and wondering how in the hell a five second kiss can be the best one he's ever had.
"Call me," Pitch says, and it's not a request.
He disappears back into the crowd and Jack stares after him.