Marking it Down to Learning + Chapter 10 (cont)
Tailspin

Krantz groaned. "You're quite the little cocksucker, Tyrone," he complimented insultingly. "What the hell did you need girls for?"

Duo shrugged. "I thought I'd move into management," he deadpanned, his voice hoarse from the abuse his throat had taken.

Krantz laughed, standing up and fixing his clothes. "Well, I don't think you're management material. It's good you have skills to fall back on," he remarked nastily.

Duo lowered his eyes, not rising from his position on the floor. Krantz moved past him, and tossed a small plastic bag on the floor in front of Duo. "Four lines," Krantz reminded him. "Enjoy it."

The American continued to kneel on the floor after Krantz had closed the door behind him, his eyes closed. His stomach roiled, not adjusting well to the fluid it had been forced to absorb.

He was disgusted. Absolutely disgusted. Not by Krantz, but by himself.

Eleven years. He'd been clean for eleven years.

And in three fucking days, he was back on his knees, sucking cock for coke.

Sick, just like Heero said.

Tears rose in Duo's eyes, and he felt himself trembling. Heero. God, he wanted Heero, and Quatre and Wufei and Trowa, wanted them to take him in their arms and assure him that this was all a bad dream, and would be over.

They weren't there, though...but the cocaine was.

Duo sighed, moving around to the other side of the pole as he remembered. He'd done all four lines at once, and nothing had bothered him for several hours.

Then it had worn off...but Krantz had given him another four for the same price.

The next morning, a dealer who'd heard about him from Krantz gave him three lines for a blowjob, and that night a third man gave him two. But when he'd gone back to Krantz the next morning, the dealer had refused.

"Cash, Tyrone," he'd said firmly. "You know, money? You familiar with the concept?"

"Come on, Krantz," Duo had pleaded, moving closer to the other man, brushing against him. "Be a little old-fashioned. Barter economies are in."

The man's cold gray eyes moved over him. There was a good deal more of him visible than there'd been a few days before. Duo had found a second-hand goods store where he'd been able to sell the jeans and shirt he'd been wearing. Despite the fact that they were crumpled and stained, the proprietor had given him the short shorts and half-shirt he was wearing now, plus enough money to buy a fast food hamburger and supplement the two lines the cheap bastard last night had given him.

"If you're that eager for a taste of me, Tiny, I'll give it to you for free," Krantz offered, running a hand up Duo's bare leg and beneath the fake silky material of the shorts.

Duo slapped his hand away, shaking his head. "You told me yourself, Krantz - no charity cases," he reminded the other man.

Undaunted, Krantz pushed his hand back up Duo's leg, squeezing his bare buttock beneath the barely-concealing fabric of his shorts.

"You aren't getting any more coke for sucking me off," he told Duo bluntly. "But since you got these pretty shorts, Tiny, I've been wondering if that ass of yours is as sweet as your mouth," he whispered hotly, squeezing harder on the flesh in his hand.

Duo smiled archly down at him, trying to keep the screaming inside him from erupting. He couldn't...he just couldn't...he'd already fallen so far, but he managed to keep something to himself...

"My ass is plenty sweet," he agreed pertly. "But it doesn't come cheap."

"Four lines," Krantz promised.

Duo laughed scornfully, pulling away. "No less than twenty, Krantz," he told the other man airily.

"Twenty?" Krantz repeated incredulously. "Unless it's made of fucking gold, you're crazy. Six."

"Fifteen," Duo countered.

"Eight."

"Twelve."

"Ten."

Duo sighed theatrically. "I'm letting you cheat me, Krantz...you're taking all I have and offering me crumbs in return..."

"Yeah, sell it to the news," Krantz grunted. "Come on, I don't have all day."

For all his surly speech, Duo noticed that he was moving pretty quickly across the bar. Krantz probably didn't get all that many opportunities, he reflected sourly as he followed the cadaverous man across the mostly-empty bar. Most willing partners probably preferred someone who had a bit more interest in hygiene then Krantz did.

But who was he to be picky? The familiar despair weighed so heavily in Duo that he wondered abstractly how he was even able to move, much less follow Krantz into that miserable little room that seemed destined to be the setting for every stage of his disintegration back into street trash.

Krantz, again, threw a small bill on the bar. Duo stopped, and picked up a small stack of napkins, winking saucily at the bartender as he did. The man rolled his eyes, unwillingly grinning and tossing a few more in Duo's direction.

The American carefully picked them up. Always prepared.

By the time he entered the room, Krantz already had his pants off. Duo grinned at him, trying to hide the panic and utter misery he was feeling, and slowly pulled his own shorts down.

He ran a surreptitious hand up and down the length of his cock as he stripped, and the flesh obediently rose. He didn't want Krantz, didn't want any of this, but it wouldn't be good for the other man to know it.

He pulled his shirt off too and threw it to the side, stretching slightly to show off the muscles in his torso. Krantz' eyes brightened, but before he could do or say anything, Duo fell to his knees in front of him and unceremoniously took his cock in his mouth.

He was damned if he didn't get a little lubrication going.

He sucked hard on Krantz' already stiff organ - the closer he could bring him with his mouth, the less time it would last. He pumped himself at the same time, fingers pulling hard on his own erection to distract himself from what was happening, what was going to happen, what he was letting happen...

Krantz suddenly grabbed a handful of his hair, yanking him unceremoniously to his feet. Duo staggered, thrown off balance by the movement, and Krantz grabbed his arm, spinning him around and shoving him hard.

Duo banged into the table, the edge of it hitting his upper thighs. Before he could straighten himself or move away, Krantz was behind him, bending him over the table.

Duo braced his elbows on the scarred surface and spread his legs, bracing himself, balancing most of his weight on his feet, not depending on the strength in his arms to hold up both him and Krantz.

He felt the other man's hands on him, pulling his buttocks apart, curious fingers ramming dry into his tight, unprepared passage.

Duo gasped, a whimper escaping his throat as he squeezed his eyes closed and tried to force himself to relax, to open himself to the rough intruders...fighting it would only make it worse.

Krantz' hands still held him spread wide, and Duo felt something hard and hot probing roughly at his entrance. He took a deep breath and held it as Krantz speared into him.

As the man forced his hard cock past the first tight ring of muscle, Duo couldn't hold back a pained cry. He'd seen Krantz' cock several times now, and it wasn't that thick, but he wasn't ready for it, and it felt like it was going to split him in two. Being fucked hadn't hurt like this in years. Thank goodness he'd been able to get his mouth on it for a minute - even with that much lubrication, he felt it abrading his inner walls, roughly scraping against them as Krantz shoved deep inside him.

Krantz' hands moved up to his hips, and Duo braced himself again as he felt the man begin to thrust in and out of him. He felt Krantz' hot breath on his neck as the other man's cock continued to ram its way in and out of his body, slowly gaining speed.

With every movement, Duo's own cock rubbed roughly against the surface of the table. He wasn't enjoying this, not at all, not in any way, but his body responded to the friction, and he felt his balls growing tighter and tighter...

"Oh, fuck," Krantz half-sobbed against his back. "Holy shit..."

Duo concentrated on maintaining his balance, moving his hips so his cock rubbed more surely against the table. He felt himself almost ready to come, and he tightened his passage abruptly, squeezing hard on Krantz, who was that moment shoving deep inside him.

The other man screamed, and Duo felt a hot wetness flood his insides. He groaned, allowing himself his own release, his seed spurting up to spatter over his chest.

Duo shuddered, collapsing on the table as his legs gave out. He closed his eyes, resting his face on the wet surface of the table. He could feel Krantz' cock still throbbing inside of him. He wanted to scream at the other man to get it out, to get away from him, to leave him the fuck alone...but of course, he couldn't. He just...couldn't.

Krantz stood over him for a few minutes, still buried deep inside him, his hands still digging painfully into Duo's hips. Finally he groaned loudly and pulled away. Duo couldn't contain a small shudder at the small sucking sound their bodies made as they disjoined.

"Jesus fucking Christ...what a mess," Krantz groused.

Duo straightened, wincing painfully, and saw Krantz scowling at the mixture of blood and fluids covering his own near flaccid cock.

"If you want me to clean it up, Krantz, it'll cost you another two lines worth," he said flatly, hearing the coldness in his own voice.

Krantz apparently didn't notice his tone, or didn't care, and he chuckled. "Not a problem, Tiny," he announced amiably. He crossed the room to where Duo's discarded shorts lie, and picked them up, carefully cleaning himself with the black fabric. Duo glared at him and he chuckled again, quickly putting his own clothes back on. He approached Duo, who still stood naked beside the table. He leaned down and sucked on the skin of the smaller man's neck. Duo gasped sharply and tried to shove the thin man away as Krantz' teeth came together, biting him hard.

"Just leaving a little mark behind," Krantz chuckled. Duo scowled at him. He'd already learned in their brief interaction that Krantz was unbearable when he'd just gotten some. He much preferred the dealer's usual attitude of snappish irritation to the obnoxious joviality he displayed when he'd just gotten his rocks off. The taller man reached behind Duo and slid a finger in his stretched passage, moving it back and forth inside him roughly several times before sliding it out and running it up Duo's back. The American shivered as the air moved over the dampened trail. "Thanks, Tiny," Krantz grinned, and reached into his pocket, dropping a three small bags onto the table. "A little extra...for your laundry bill," he snickered, and turned and sauntered out of the room.

Duo growled after him, then turned and, with shaking fingers, dumped the contents of one of the little bags onto a relatively clean area of the table. He moved it as carefully as he could into several small lines, and inhaled them as rapidly as he could manage.

He lowered himself shakily to the ground, pulling his knees up to his bare chest and wrapping his arms around them. He sat there, huddled in on himself for what felt like a very long time.

Already, it was taking longer and longer for the drug to take effect. A few days ago, that one line had been enough to bring him immediate euphoria, and though the sharpest edge had worn off relatively quickly, the lingering pleasure had lasted several hours.

Now, he sat shuddering for five minutes before the warmth started creeping over him. He knew the euphoria wouldn't be as high as it had been several days before, and he rather suspected that four lines at a time wasn't enough any more. He needed more.

He crawled over to where his clothes and the pile of napkins lay scattered on the floor, and used the napkins to cleanse himself as best as he could. He wrinkled his nose at the mixture of semen and blood seeping out of his passage and covering the formerly white paper squares, but diligently wiped it all up. Those shorts wouldn't absorb any of it, and he'd really prefer that it not run down his leg.

He performed the task methodically, carefully gathering the soiled papers together, putting his damp shorts and his shirt and shoes back on. He hid the remaining two precious packets in a small pocket inside the shorts.

He couldn't let himself think of what he'd just done. He couldn't picture the disgust in Heero's eyes, or any of the others, if they knew.

But...what else did they expect?

This is what he was.

A whore. A filthy, disgusting tramp, who'd let anyone fuck him up the ass for the price of a few drugs.

The knowledge seared through him, making his chest burn with a screaming pain...but at the same time, there was a sense of weary rightness.

That's what he was. That's what he'd always been, really. He'd tried for years to pretend otherwise, but there was little point to that.

He was a whore, and he was back in business.

Duo sighed, forcing his attention back to the present, and decided it was time to try a little more active solicitation. He pressed his back against the pole, throwing his head to the side, exposing the slim column of his neck.. He arched his back, exposing the taut muscles of his stomach and the bulge in his shorts at the same time.

Krantz' three bags had lasted him the rest of that day. The dealer had fucked him again the next day, and for the three days after that he had allowed some of the dealer's friends to take him in exchange for drugs.

They'd been eager to have him, but, as before, the price had gone steadily down. They all knew he was always willing, and so supply exceeded demand. This morning, Krantz had roughly fucked him, bent over that goddamned table, and had given him exactly nothing in return except the promise that, once Duo had some money in hand, he would sell to him.

So here he was, on the corner, trying to drum up business.

He'd made a few friends in the past few days, as he began to sink more and more back into his old street identity. When he wasn't fucking or sucking someone for coke, he'd made what contacts he could, run errands, done a bit of courier work. He'd made some cash, though not enough to support his growing habit. And the Maxwell charm hadn't died. He'd always been his most charming when he was at his lowest. So when he'd made the decision that he had to freelance, he'd had some help. The bartender had made a few calls and found him a safe corner, where he wouldn't be invading anyone's territory. One of the toughs he'd come to know over the past week escorted him to the corner and hung around for a bit, announcing without words that Duo was allowed to be where he was.

Now, he just needed some business. He looked across the street, where a man in a blue suit was staring at him.

Duo smiled invitingly at the man, and ran his hand across the bare skin of his own stomach, running it up, beneath the hem of his short shirt, rubbing his fingers over his own nipples. He tossed his head slightly, causing more hair to ripple down over his shoulder.

The mark crossed the street, and stopped beside Duo.

"What's your rate?" he asked abruptly.

Duo raked his eyes boldly over the other man, quickly sizing him up. In his forties, probably married with three kids at home, out during his lunch hour to assuage some of his sicker urges...

"A hundred, for you," he breathed, allowing his eyes to linger on the other man's crotch.

As he stared at it, licking his lips, he saw the bulge there grow bigger.

"And the room?" he asked briskly.

Duo smiled at him. "Hey, you want extras, you pay for them," he mocked mildly.

The errant family man scowled down at him. "That's a little steep, don't you think?" he demanded.

"Not for me," Duo purred softly, reaching out to boldly grasp the other man's hardness through his suit pants. "I'm well worth the price."

He gasped, pulling away slightly, beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he stared down at Duo. "Your call," the American announced lightly, turning his head away, tilting it at just the right angle to expose the vulnerability of his throat. At the same moment he shrugged, a movement that he knew would cause the muscles of his chest to ripple exactly right.

He'd called it. The business man gulped, shifting uncomfortably as his erection strained his pants. "Fine," he managed. "Deal."

"You won't regret it," Duo promised breathily, pushing himself away from the pole and leading the way to the by-the-hour motel down the block. He put a seductive sway in his hips and winked at the man trailing eagerly behind him.

And he wouldn't regret it. It would be everything he wanted - hot, dirty, lustful pleasure.

And what a bargain.

Duo's soul, for a hundred an hour, plus twenty-five for the room.

Actually, Duo reflected bitterly, hanging onto the man's arm as he hastily scrawled some name - Duo doubted it was his own - on the registration form, he was probably overpaying.

What had it been, back in the day?

Eight pieces of silver for the devil?

Whatever, the American thought as the door to the cheap room slammed behind them and he felt the other man's trembling hands move over his body, pulling off his clothes, moving between his legs to squeeze his penis.

It hardly mattered at this point.

The Devil already had him. And he was stuck here in hell.

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