"The Basketball Diaries: Duo's Decline"

Part One

by Jenn Blackett

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam or Jim Carroll's "The Basketball Diaries". This is a definite reworking of certain personalities and such, working Duo into a druggie because I'm mean like that. Gomen! I am making no money off of this, so please don't sue me!

Warnings: Hmmm.... language, bastardization of characters, OOCness, darkness, angst, major yaoi undertones here ((Whoohoo!)), prostitution, drug use, and possibly this may end up being limish or lemonish. Don't know yet.... *grin*

Pairings: 5x2 for now, possible more later on... eheheh

��� His arm was aching. Soon the fire would start, the slow lethal strike at the pit of his belly, the slow slumbering of the need waking up and slicing hotly through his veins. Sometimes he'd look at his arms and wonder if he was only imagining his veins were tightening in on themselves, squeezing into tight coils about his bones, making him fear they'd snap.

��� Four dull marks were in his skin, and two from the previous night, red and angry, bruise turning from brown to yellow as it healed. Well, tough shit, the skin wasn't going to heal fast enough, because he was just going to have to open up the area again. It was just high enough on his arm to get a vein and not low enough to be revealed by his shirt. Yeah, no one could see...

��� The vials were all empty. He'd used up two days worth of heroin in one night. It'd been fucking ecstasy, but very dumbass of him to do. There was no way he could go without tonight. Ne, not after what had happened....

��� His mind trailed off, seeing the scenes again like a blank canvas just being repainted right in front of him to see and touch. The bodies tattered and ruined, shot full of so many holes, you could see clean through to the other side past all the guts and glistening blood. Her face, such a sweet and kind face, more like an angel that didn't need to soil her white garments with one such as him. Blonde hair leaking out from under that damning hood, trickle of the crimson down her lips.

��� "Ne, ne, ne." He shook his head firmly, muttering to himself, resolutely pushing the horrific images of the nightmare from his mind. No way in hell was he going back there. He didn't need that.

��� What the hell he needed was some damn heroin.

��� And there was only one way he could get it.

��� He picked up the phone and dialed the number he had forbid himself to the last time because it had hurt so goddamn much.

��� "Nani?" A gruff, angry toned voice answered, before a commotion sounded on the other end and the voice yelled. "Damnit, onna! How many times do I have to tell you to not let the boy watch karate movies! He broke my statue!!!"

��� A smirk crossed his lips at the familial bliss. God, it was sickening to know what a sick bastard like the one he was talking to could have.

��� "It's me."

��� The voice immediately quieted from his angry mumbling. "Kisama.... Hold on." The sound of a yelling child and happily laughing woman disappeared and silence reigned. They had privacy now to continue this little torrid conversation. "I knew you'd come back." There was a slightly jibbing tone to the voice, smug, self-assured.

��� God, he hated him.

��� Slowly he licked his lips, the thought of the heroin garnering his interest again. "Yeah.... I need to talk to you...."

��� As if they only just talked.

��� Slight low chuckle. "I'll be there tonight. Remember what I like?"

��� He closed his eyes and shuddered slowly, revolted, but needing the money.

��� "Well?" Impatient.

��� "Yeah.... I'll be on my stomach waiting."

��� "Good...." Soft chuckle. "See you later, Maxwell."

��� Click.

��� Duo Maxwell narrowed his eyes at the phone, fist shaking and gave the middle finger to the dial tone. "Fuck you, Chang Wufei."

��� It was funny how being on your stomach staring at the same crack in the wall while some bastard screwed you right good for a good straight fifteen minutes could get so damn mesmerizing. His mind would trail to how that crack had gotten there.... Maybe some lucky couple that had owned this rat heap when it was new and nice looking has gotten a little overzealous one night and banged the headboard into the wall, leaving their mark of domestic bliss forevermore. A smirk crossed his lips as he tasted the saline coursing thickly down from his eyes. At least it hurt less this time.

��� Duo bit his lip hard as he felt his hair being tugged on again, and cursed softly over and over in his mind. Looked like someone hadn't been having sex for awhile. Wufei was good for another go. Sometimes he hated Sally so much. When those two had their fights, he'd get fucked enough to make him cry when he sat down. Why couldn't domestic bliss just remain domestic bliss, goddamnit!?

��� Wufei liked his hair down, for some reason, even though he had taunted him about it like hell during the war, sneering at his "feminine attribute". Duo just hadn't noticed the lust burning behind those crazy eyes. If he had, he would have run far, far away that night when he had started calling his friends for help. Quatre had already lent him so much money he could never pay back, not that the guy ever asked for it back, but as soon as Quatre settled down to mutual bliss with Trowa, Duo just couldn't bare to ask. Why let his darkness infect another happy life as it had so long ago? Besides, Quatre had started asking too many questions, and one look at those baby blues and his guilt got too great.

��� Goddamnit, he needed some heroin.

��� Heero was no where to be found. The little perfect soldier had done his duty to the Queen of the World and skipped out somewhere. Not that Duo expected to be able to find him. They were friends, sure, but Heero Yuy had enough problems himself to deal with. Besides, he showed up when he wanted to and only then.

��� Duo had been getting desperate. There was no way he could go up to Relena and ask Miss Prim and Proper, "Hey, babe, can I have some money so I can get a high?" Ne, she'd ship him off to a clinic right quick and everyone would coo and cluck their tongues at what a mess Duo Maxwell had become. No way in hell was he being somebody's fucking charity case.

��� He'd been that enough.

��� One last number to dial....

��� Chang Wufei. Yeah, sure, they hadn't been all that close, but surely an old war buddy could give him some money for old time's sake, right? He had a family and Duo knew Sally liked him. Hell, he was surprised to hear that the old Chinese dragon had settled down with such a chick in the first place.

��� Yeah, the family man would surely help him. After all, Wufei, though surprised to hear from him had been all the caring friend, offering to come straight over and help him.

��� Caring friend my ass.

��� How had he even gotten himself into this particular situation? Duo mused his lip, nearly wanting to laugh or cry, whichever came first. First thing he knows, he's being dicked by Wufei and a wad of cash to keep him in heroin for at least a month is thrown on the rumpled bed. How the fuck had he known!?

��� He had his sources, he'd said.

��� A sharp jerk to his hair and the feeling of an undeniable hardness digging into his side cut out the trail of thoughts, like Duo could think anyhow with how much his ass hurt. A smirk tugged at Duo's lips a moment. "Yeah, Wufei?"

��� Slight snarl. "Don't you dare smile at me, Maxwell. You know what I'm here for and if you want any money, you'd better get down to it...."

��� Duo immediately dropped the smirk, face blank, swallowing slowly. God, he hated doing that. Not that he minded being fucked any less, but something about this was just.... more personal. Like the Chinese bastard was trying to possess his soul as well as just his body.

��� But the damn hunger demon struck his gut again, sure to get worse later. He'd tried to ignore it before and it sure as hell wasn't pretty when this demon went unfed.

��� Nodding slowly, Duo shifted his position, being careful because of the stiff searing pain in his backside. He licked his lips, interpreted as a coy gesture by Wufei who growled and curled his fingers in the long chestnut locks, lusting. The job in question stared him in the face, angry and red, just like its owner could be. Duo had a dark thought of just biting the thing off to make Wufei bleed, but then the money in Wufei's pocket would last only a while, so....

��� He set down to work.

��� Hell, it's a living and he was getting quite good at it.

��� First he set his mouth just slowly against it, slowly drawing his tongue along the tip of Wufei's length, tasting the salty precum. Stilling a shiver of disgust, he nipped slowly downwards, fingers stroking along the skin not being licked or nipped, working to please the customer. That's all he was doing.... Just pleasing a customer....

��� He could forget until Wufei spoke.

��� "Use your mouth for something more useful, baka." A low growl sounded, fingers jerking hard at the hair and grinding his lips against the jutting organ.

��� Duo felt tears sting his eyes but he sure as hell was not going to cry. A memory touched him, *Mamma always told me boys don't cry.* His eyes narrowed then, and he swallowed back the tears, opening his mouth and slowly taking in Wufei's length, sucking it in and nipping.

��� A low groan of pleasure met his ears and he closed his eyes, choosing to concentrate on someone else's face and ignore the guttural sounds of pleasure as he sucked. Her face.... Kind eyes that could dance with mischief, such a perfect blue color, just like the sister's had been so long ago. Such perfect lips, little delicate and ethereal smile. The way she could say his name, softly with a lilt, her mouth sounding out the vowels so sweetly, sometimes downright suggestively, even though they never did anything remotely sexual. God, but he had wanted to.

��� He had been a sick bastard for wanting to screw Hirde Schbeiker, and he was still a sick bastard for dreaming up new ways to screw her while he was sucking some guy's dick for cash.

��� God, he needed heroin.

��� Finally, after what seemed forever, Wufei slammed his head down and yelled something about Nataku, releasing in a hot liquid torrent into Duo's mouth. Gritting his teeth against the angry taste, he swallowed slowly, watching as the Chinese man breathed hard and came back to himself, standing and zipping up his pants. That was one thing about Wufei. He demanded that Duo be fully naked but the bastard only dropped his pants when it was time to fuck. God, he felt nauseous.

��� After a few moments of primping himself up for the family so they won't know what Daddy does in his spare time, Wufei smirked over at Duo, withdrawing a wad of cash from his wallet. "For your services, Maxwell."

��� With that, he left the wad of cash on the dirty, cracked table and walked out.

��� Promptly, Duo grabbed the money, staring at it a long moment and touched his lips, still slick with the taste of cum on them. His head spinning, he barely made it to the toilet before the meager contents of his stomach emptied out of his mouth, browning the water.

~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~+~

��� A little laugh tore from her throat as she looked at the kids racing down the street to get back home. Wistfulness tugged her to memories of running like that, but with an older, very kawaii boy, and all in good fun. She hadn't seen Duo Maxwell in so long, and she didn't even know if he was alive anymore.... Ne, of course he was alive. Guys like that, with that kind of smile and twinkle in their eyes, don't lay down and die.

��� Especially when they're Shinigami.

��� She shook her head, chiding herself. Why was she thinking about him now? She'd already had her allotted 5 minutes of wondering where Duo Maxwell was, what he was doing, who he was having a happy life with, this morning after she cooked her roommate some eggs. A twinkle of mischief lit her eyes as she thought of how the usually stoic, cold Preventer had uttered a barely constrained cough at the overindulgence of Cayan pepper in his eggs, and had slightly teasingly muttered, "Omae o korosu, Hirde." Well, at least she *thought* it had been teasing. Hirde Schbeiker wouldn't really want to die by Heero Yuy's hands.

��� A quick glance to her watch told her it was nearing 11 and she had to be home before Heero would give her the glare of death(TM)for being--god forbid!--twelve seconds late for the special dinner he'd make for her. It was a good arrangement, this roommate thing. The two were friends, and Relena had noted that Hirde was alone and needed someone to keep her company--or at least the blonde inferred, Hirde never said she was lonely--and she wanted someone to look after Heero, make sure he was eating enough and such things. What tactic Relena had used on Heero to make him ask to stay and actually stay *put*, Hirde never knew. Heero would just give her the coldest glare and just walk off when she asked, so why bother making your roommate hate you over something so baka?

��� Heero would work during the night, an hour or two after Hirde would come home from her own job at the scrap yard. She was running it single handedly now, but Heero helped with the bookkeeping and the shipment quotients, plus there were three hired hands to help her, so she was okay. Duo's name was still on the lease, but she didn't know where he was and for some reason, could never find the heart to have the lease changed to just be in her name. Heero had called her a sentimental baka for that, but a threat of taking away his all important chocolate syrup for his black coffee made him shut up about that.

��� One good thing about roommates: You get to learn the secret vices of the person, and the Perfect Soldier sure had some damn interesting vices, even more so than chocolate to spike his coffee.

��� Humming softly to herself, Hirde flipped her long black hair over her shoulder, and brushed the spiky bangs out of her eyes. She had taken a suggestion from Relena and opted for a change in how she dressed and wore her hair. "You can be business-like and feminine at the same time, Hirde." Relena had smirked. When had Relena started smirking, she had wondered absently? Right about the time Heero Yuy moved in with her and grew really quiet whenever she asked why he let Relena talk him into living with her is when.

��� Connection? The answer points to yes.

��� So, Hirde had grown her hair out, and then she noticed her old wardrobe didn't fit with her new mid-black length raven hair, so she had to change her clothes too. Pretty much her whole style went out the window. To the scrap yard to work she'd wear nice bootleg blue jeans, worn in places, and a grey tank. To meet business associates, she'd opt for a short black leather skirt, a black jacket, and a sleeveless white turtleneck sweater that would hug her newfound curves. That was one thing that changed. The one sometimes termed tomboy or pixie grew up. She actually got a pair of breasts and a definite indent to her waist, but her legs were her main vanity now, long and lithe, often clad in knee-length black leather, short-heeled boots to show them off to the advantage. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, Hirde Schbeiker, on her off days would dress as black and sexy as a Goth.

��� She'd jokingly call it her montage to Shinigami, if she ever had anyone ask her why.

��� Clucking her tongue, Hirde sighed to herself. "Damn, girl, can you stop thinking about him for one second please? It's been two years, for Christ's sake. Duo Maxwell probably doesn't even remember your name." Yeah, he probably had 2.5 kids, a dog, a wife that cooks and screws wonderfully, and a picket fence. That was Duo. The American Dream boy.

��� Sometimes she missed her dark tenshi (1) a little too much.

��� Biting her lip a moment, Hirde continued on, not noticing the man quickly darting past sometimes startled, sometimes angry people who hailed insults after him for being so rude. She was too clueless in her little musings on what Heero would make for dinner, how late she was going to be, and how Duo would screw his wife--lights on or lights off?--when she was also run down as the man encountered one very angry person who pushed him straight into her.

��� "Holy shit!" Hirde yelled, almost falling straight on her ass. Naturally, her hands grabbed for the first thing she could find, that being the jacket of the man, and tried to steady herself.

��� The man, already unsteady himself from the collision, promptly pitched forward with her added weight.

��� The two fell on the ground, man on top, Hirde on the bottom, curses flying from her lips at how bruised her ass is going to be tomorrow. The weight of the man was hurting her chest--one bad thing about breasts is they can hurt when compressed too much--and he smelled sort of funny, like sex and alcohol, and something else.... something she remembered but couldn't put her finger on....

��� "Er... excuse me...." He muttered in a low, slightly husky tone, trying to be impersonal even as his hands went places they shouldn't have gone on her body as he got off and started to walk away.

��� Hirde's eyes narrowed. No way does he feel her up and walk way! Swiftly standing and grabbing on to the first thing she saw--a braid--she yanked hard back, stronger from defense lessons with Heero. "Hey, how dare you touch me like that! Who do you think you--."

��� Abruptly her voice cut off, looking at what she was holding. A braid.... nani.... Her eyes flipped upwards to look at the man who glared back at her, looking like he'd knock her down and bolt, into very cobalt eyes that could sheen violet at times. She remembered that smell now.... It was the scent of peaches and leather. Peaches from the shampoo, leather from the jacket he took to wearing after the war was over.

��� "Duo?" She whispered softly, eyes wide.

��� And all the man said after a flash of recognition surfaced in his eyes was, "Oh, fucking hell."

~~TBC

(1) Tenshi: angel