Disclaimer: I don't own them and I don't make any money off of them.
Warnings: Male/Male sex, graphic, language, violence, S&M, NCS, prostitution.
1x2, 2x OCs
A person doesn't start out saying, "I'd like to become a prostitute.", and Duo Maxwell wasn't any different. Still, it had been a slow progression, that choice, from being a competent, in control, and respected man, to walking the business district and hoping that someone would want a quick blow job, in a shadowy spot, for a few credits.
The first time had been born out of desperation. The rent had been due, the refrigerator had been empty for days, and work prospects had been non existent. He really hadn't foreseen that being an ex Gundam pilot and terrorist would bar him from any job that didn't require skill at using a gun. His choice not to take those kind of positions, to follow Heero's lead and never kill again, hadn't come with a princess to take care of him, too. The twenty five credits waved at him, for a quick blow job, by a man who hadn't looked too bad, hadn't really been a hard decision to make. Sex was sex and a man was used to taking it where he could get it anyway. Getting paid for it had been an unforeseen bonus.
Just this time, had been a promise that Duo hadn't been able to keep to himself. It had been too easy. Too good, really. The man hadn't been bad at all. When Duo lost a job, that he hadn't really wanted to take anyway, it had put him on the street again, with the rent due, his stomach growling for food, and his promise that last thing on his mind.
Getting someone to give him those credits, turned out to be more difficult than he had imagined. A day, walking in the wrong part of town, had given him an understanding that the poor were the prostitutes. They didn't buy the whore. It was the man, in the better parts of town, that had the money to buy what he was offering. Still, it had taken a few more false starts, before Duo had learned the signals that let prospective customers know that he was for sale.
The second man had been over weight, and his hair had been thinning, but he hadn't taken long, in the shadows between office buildings, to pop off. The twenty credits, fumbled from a wallet filled with pictures of his kids and his wife, had been handed to Duo with a desperate, "I've never done this before." A clear lie, but the man's nervousness had been real enough. He hadn't stayed to watch Duo get off of his knees and spit onto the ground several times.
Three more blow jobs that day, had given Duo money for rent, and another inner promise that he wouldn't sell himself again. One of the men had been a lean, well dressed executive, who had grabbed Duo's hair and shoved it in hard enough to hurt, while still making business deals on his head set. Once had seemed like a choice to have sex, four times, had driven home to Duo exactly what he was doing.
The third time, though, had been pure chance. A man had passed him, whistled at his tight jeans and tank top, and had made an offer that Duo had found impossible to refuse; two hundred credits, for an hour of his time. A squeeze on the ass had told Duo who would bottom, but the man had been a rather handsome blonde, and Duo wouldn't have turned down the offer on a good day.
The hotel room had relaxed him. It had been well appointed, and the mattress and sheets had been soft. With two hundred credits in his hand, afterward, Duo hadn't even minded the sore ass, a few bruises, or putting up with the man calling him, 'girl!'..
"I could tell that you were a professional," the man had said with a sly smile, impressed. "The name's Zeke. I have a few girls, and guys, in my little stable. I've been looking to expand. How would you like to bring up your clientele, and make a lot more credits? I can hook you up with the men who will pay dearly for your kind of ass."
Duo had bristled and grabbed his clothes. "I'm not a whore!"
"Sure, sure," the man had soothed, "but the money's real nice and it only takes a bit out of your day to make it. What guy would turn down getting paid for having sex?"
Not him, Duo had discovered, when the man had pulled out a portfolio of well heeled clients, and he hadn't found an objection to any of them. He could see himself, chatting with them in any bar, and taking them home, even without the lure of credits.
"I guess I could try it, just for a bit," hadn't sounded as reluctant as Duo would have liked. Times had been hard, and he hd been tired of it. He had wanted better, a day where he didn't have to wonder if he was going to make the rent, or starve to death.
"I'm your protection, too," Zeke had added. "Anyone gets out of line, I send my men to set him straight. The streets can get nasty for a guy selling by himself. You've been lucky so far."
"You've been watching me,"Duo had accused.
The man had grinned. "You give great blow jobs," the man had admitted. "That's why I made you the offer."
The hours were lunch time, and that seemed strange, until Duo understood that his clients were mostly busy men, with other 'obligations'. Cheating, was a childish word, to describe something that these men wrote into their day planner, along with 'lunch at restaurant Rotelle', and 'meeting at 1:00.' It didn't take him long to discover that looks weren't everything, and that some men could hide a vicious or perverted nature under a warm smile and an expensive Armani suit.
At first, Duo chose who he wanted to service, and rejected those that went too far. The money was good, and his standard of living rose along with his popularity. Jake put him into a nice apartment, and helped him pick out good clothes, but getting a car always seemed to stay out of reach. There were always fees and expenses, that Jake deducted out of his pay, and his 'managers' cut for protection and access to his clients. There was also the money for the drugs, that Zeke supplied, that Duo had quickly become addicted to. It gave him a sexual boost, when he was with clients that were uninteresting to him, yet gave him a soft cushion of mental fuzziness, that allowed him to just be a body for them without thinking too much about it. 'Just this once', had been a promise broken too many times to make any longer.
"Clients are thin on the ground, right now, Tango," Zeke told him with a heavy sigh as he shuffled through his portfolio. Duo's work name was becoming, more and more, a name that he used exclusively. Zeke had coined it, while using his 'manager's privilege' with Duo. Zeke had said, 'You sure know how to do the tango under the sheets." and Tango, had stuck.
Duo rubbed at tired eyes and sat, dejectedly, in an expensive chair before Zeke's expensive desk. He was wearing a loose shirt and scruffy jeans, and his athletic shoes were coming apart at the seams. Outside of work, he didn't care, anymore, about how he looked. Zeke was the one who told him what clothing to wear, and how to look, when it was time to go to a client. Only Tango mattered when it came to appearances. Tango was the one who made the money.
"There must be something?" Duo replied anxiously. He could feel the strain of the beginnings of drug withdraw, and the rent was coming due. He also needed to pay Zeke.
Zeke made a show of carefully vetting his client's and then he made a noise of uncertainty as he paused on one.
"What?" Duo asked, leaning forward to look at the elderly man in the photo of the client folder.
"It's just not someone you go for, usually," Zeke replied with a shrug. "He likes it a little rough. He'll want to tie you up and do some things... you know how that is?"
Duo swallowed hard and felt the tremble starting in his body, the ache that wanted drugs, and the need for the security of the credits he could make. "What's 'some things'?"
Zeke looked uncomfortable. It was faked, of course. Nothing outraged a man like him. "Oh, you know... toys. Nothing out of line, really. Pretty mild, actually, compared to some."
Duo licked dry lips and then fell over the edge. "Okay...." and added the lie, "Just this once, though."
Zeke smiled. "Yeah, just this once. I'm sure there will be more clients soon. This is the oldest trade there is, you know?"
Zeke slid the address to Duo. Duo took it and slipped it into his pocket.
"What am I playing?" Duo asked.
"Oh, cute and innocent," Zeke replied with a grin, "Put on the school uniform. We'll get you another one, after." Meaning that he suspected that the client would rip it off of him.
Business would pick up, Duo told himself. He wouldn't have to do this again. How bad could the old guy be? By the time that they found him in the gutter, close to death, and took him to the hospital, he had discovered just how bad a man could be.
____________________________
"He's stable, but he was pretty messed up," the doctor told Heero as he went over his computerized report. "Rope burns, broken bones, whip and burn marks, anal tearing, lower intestinal damage, over dose with some sort of narcotic. It looks as if someone had hung him up by his wrists for a very long time. He was close to needing his hands amputated. I doubt that he will be able to use them without some extensive therapy. I hope that you get the bastard who did this, because he's a sick, sick man."
"Thank you, doctor, keep us advised of his condition," Une said as she nodded his dismissal.
"He really is Duo Maxwell?" the doctor wanted to know.
"Yes," Heero replied as he curled a fist around an information stick. "That's confidential information, though."
The doctor rose and looked at the two seated Preventer agents. "He told a nurse that his name was 'Tango'. He asked her to call someone named "Zeke', but the number was disconnected when we tried. No one's come looking for him."
"I want that number," Une told him. "I want the name of anyone who calls or attempts to visit him, as well."
"Yes, commander," the man replied. He gave them both a nod and then left.
Heero frowned, not saying anything. Une stared at him for a long moment and then, finally, said, "We need him."
"Not like this," Heero replied, looking sad and disgusted.
"If I put Preventer funds behind it, I could have him regened in no time," Une pointed out.
"And then what?" Heero wanted to know. "Do you think that he will be grateful? So grateful, that he joins Preventers and works on the side of the law? He's... he's a card carrying prostitute."
Une leaned towards him. "You don't know that. Some men think it's a good joke to apply for those health cards."
Heero glared. "And some men need it to prostitute themselves legally."
Une pushed up her glasses and looked frustrated. "We need him, desperately. I don't care what he's been doing."
Heero shook his head and stood up. "We don't need anyone that desperately. I can't understand how someone with his skill, and his intelligence, could have decided to sell himself, but it is a clear indicator, to me, that he isn't the man that I once knew."
"Who did you know?" Une wanted to know. "He was fifteen during the war. He was seventeen when he fell off of the grid. I think that we all did our running away, our growing older, after the war. None of us are who we were."
"Even more reason to reject this plan of yours," Heero growled.
"I meant," Une insisted, "that we can change, and drastically. Maxwell can decide, especially after this last incident, that the preventer organization is a better life choice for him. I want to give him that chance."
"Then it doesn't matter what my opinion is," Heero complained.
"It does," Une replied. "I am assigning you to his case. Find the man who messed up Duo Maxwell, and try to bring Duo Maxwell into the Preventer fold."
Heero went red with anger.
.
"That's an order," Une insisted.
________________________________
"Shit, you're a mess, Tango," Zeke curled a lip in disgust as he looked Duo over.
Duo shivered and glared, hunched in pain in his stolen clothes. He had made it to Zeke's, barely, after escaping the hospital, and his Preventer guards. They really should have looked closer at the orderly, but they hadn't taken any notice that the man had changed after taking care of his patient. He wondered what they had thought when they had found the man strapped to his bed and unconscious.
"They re-gened me," Duo told Zeke. "I'm good... almost good. Just a week, maybe, and then I can work again."
Zeke frowned nervously. "That's a damned expensive procedure, Tango. Cutting edge stuff. Why would they do that for a street whore?"
Duo shrugged and then hissed in pain. "What's it matter? Maybe they felt sorry for me?"
"That's a whole lot of sorry," Zeke pointed out. He rubbed at his chin, thoughtfully, and then said, "This is a business, Tango. You know how that is? I've already replaced you. I doubt that I could find anyone who'd want what you got now."
Duo swallowed hard. Zeke didn't trust him, thinking that he must have made a deal with Preventers to get such excellent medical care.Duo couldn't blame him. he would have thought the same thing. "Guess I have to go solo, then."
Zeke's expression turned dangerous in a heartbeat. "Not in my territory. I own this part of town."
Duo glared. "Don't threaten me," he warned. "You don't know who I am."
Zeke snickered. "You're a messed up whore. I doesn't matter who you used to be."
Duo felt his gut clench. The man was right. Free of the drugs, he didn't have the hazy cushion that had allowed him to turn a blind eye to how far he had fallen. He was a whore, begging his pimp for a lay, so that he could eat and have a place out of the rain. He had escaped a hospital, with debilitating injuries, to return to that life.
Duo scrubbed stiff hands over his face and turned away from Zeke. "What am I doing?" he muttered as he headed for the door.
"Nothing around here," Zeke threatened again.
Duo was surprised when Zeke didn't back up his threat with a beating, but, he supposed, that the man didn't want to chance Duo dying on him in his office. He was allowed to leave with what he had come in with, nothing. In his hospital uniform, in the chill of the evening, without a place to go, and no money, or ID, he couldn't even turn a legal trick without his health card.
The desperate could find someone just as desperate, though. The man was ugly, and fat, and he didn't smell good, but he was eager for Duo's come on, and ready to pay for some service in an ally. Sinking to his knees, Duo felt depression sinking in with claws.
"Leave," a voice ordered coldly.
Duo's customer was suddenly gone. Duo looked up into the dim light, blinking, and found Heero Yuy looking down at him. Duo began to say something nasty, but the fifty credits stuck into his face killed those words unvoiced. Duo took the chip with fingers that hardly worked.
"What can I do for you?" Duo whispered, feeling humiliated, but well used to it.
"You're under arrest," Heero announced. "You're prostituting without a health card."
"You know I have one," Duo retorted. The credit chip was cold in his hand. "So, is this... what? Am I supposed to bribe you to let me go? Is that your kink?"
Heero scowled. "No. I'm not here for that. The credits are for your cooperation in an investigation."
"Is that legal?" Duo wanted to know.
"I am allowed to compensate an individual for their cooperation," Heero replied as if he were reading from a manuel.
"I don't narc on people," Duo growled and used the wall to get himself, unsteadily, to his feet. He shivered as he leaned against the cold brick. He didn't return the credits, though. He needed them too much."Just tell me what else I can do for the fifty, and we'll both go our happy ways... happy."
Heero glared. "I don't need to pay for it," he replied.
Duo snickered. "People who don't need to pay, do it anyway. It lets them avoid relationships."
Heero's eyes swept the filthy alleyway in disgust. "Is this really the life that you want?"
Duo blinked and then shrugged dispiritedly. "What's it to you?"
"I've been ordered to offer you another alternative," Heero told him.
"Ordered?" Duo snickered. "Then it wasn't what you wanted to do?"
"No," Heero replied. "You chose your life."
"Things happen," Duo replied bitterly. His hand trembled on the credits as he went to his knees again. "I'm not giving up these credits, without a fight, so let's do this."
Heero reached down and took the chip out of Duo's damaged hand easily. He replaced it with a Preventer card with a pass strip. He also took off his thick jacket and dropped it around Duo's shoulders.
"If you want an alternative, come to that address," Heero told him.
"Bastard!" Duo snarled.
Heero looked coldly unmoved by the insult. "Your life. Your choice," he replied and then turned and walked away.
Duo clutched at the expensive coat, confusion robbing him of any smart come back. Finally, just before Heero exited the alley, he yelled, "Thanks for the coat, asshole!" It was meant to be sarcasm, but he couldn't summon the anger for it. He could only be grateful for the warmth.
"I don't want you to freeze to death before you make your decision," Heero called back, and then he was gone.
Duo trembled, hungry, homeless, and very much alone, in the filthy ally. He could feel death standing at his shoulder, waiting.
"Not today," Duo told it and stood up with an effort. "Not today," he repeated, more strongly, and went to find a place to shelter for the night.
__________________________________
"He's in the clinic."
"I don't understand." Heero frowned as Une paced before his desk.
"Maxwell came to me, curious about working for us in a non combat position," she explained. "I told him that he would have to be thoroughly checked out by the medic first and then spend time with a psychologist. Once he is cleared by both doctors, I said, then we could discuss a position with Preventers."
"I thought that we were desperate for his abilities?" Heero replied sourly. "These examinations take time."
"Months, in fact," Une agreed. "I want him stable, Yuy. He was far from that when he was standing in front of my desk. "
"I did make that argument, as you recall," Heero pointed out. "He chose prostitution. That isn't a sign of clear thinking."
"Very judge mental, for a man who gave a prostitute a six hundred dollar mission jacket to wear," Une retorted.
Heero scowled and looked uncomfortable. "It was a loan."
Une grimaced. "I doubt that you will want it back. Judging from the stains, and the smell, he slept in a dumpster last night."
"Decaying food, closed in space, bagged garbage. A good strategy for staying warm," Heero replied.
"Your definition of sane decisions is puzzling to me, Agent Yuy," Une complained."Prostitution, no, dumpster living, yes."
"I didn't say that it was sane," Heero countered.
"Sane, or not, that's for the doctors to decide," Une said as she tossed several discs on to Heero's desk. "These are your briefs on the case. Use Maxwell. He has nothing else to do while he is examined, and enjoys Preventer hospitality."
Une's cell rang and she answered it. "He's been treated, then? All right.
Keep me informed." She closed her phone and looked irritated as she explained,
"Maxwell will be needing intensive treatment for several infections. Add
another two weeks to his down time."
_________________________
"I charge for that," Duo complained as the doctor's gloved finger searched.
The doctor grunted, extracted his finger, and said, as he snapped off his glove, "So, I can see."
"Feel, you mean?" Duo snickered.
The doctor frowned and didn't reply as he made notes. Duo straightened and pulled up the drawstring pants that he had been given earlier.
"What's that Une you were talking to on the cell?" Duo wanted to know.
The doctor nodded, finished his notation, and then gave Duo a serious look. "You have several infections. If you had stayed in the hospital, this might not have happened."
Duo pulled on a loose t-shirt, and slipped on shoes. His clothing was all bland colors, and soft, safe materials, as if he were dangerous and facing institutionalization. It clued him in as to where his future was headed if he wasn't very careful. "It was dangerous there."
"I'm sorry?" The doctor raised an eyebrow.
"When you have the goods on someone, they might decide to shut you up, permanently," Duo explained, "especially when they tried so freakin' hard to shut you up the first time." He shivered, despite himself. "There were too many ins and outs in the hospital, too many ways for someone to get to me."
The doctor was a Preventer agent and didn't question that line of reasoning, but he did say, "Your hands are still healing. Our organization has spent a great deal of money to allow you to use them again, after what happened. To be blunt, Mr. Maxwell, you owe us. I suggest that you decide to cooperate and drop the street talk. Blow jobs and wall fucks are not going to get you anywhere here."
Duo frowned. "Have you ever tried looking for work, when everyone knows you're a killer? Have you ever tried keeping a job, when you're a hair trigger ready to go off? Have you ever been fired, because too many customers complain that your employer shouldn't be hiring war criminals? I was a war hero to a lot of people, but a lot of other people never saw it that way. When you don't want to kill people for a living where does a killer go? I didn't figure that out before I didn't have food or housing."
"And sex was easy?"
Duo turned at the new voice and saw that a very thin, young man had come into the room. "Isn't this supposed to be private?" Duo complained.
The man looked apologetic. "I'm your assigned psychologist, Dr. Worfstein.
"I'll leave you two together," the doctor said as he handed Duo a chip. "That's for the pill dispensary on the second floor. Your room, where you'll be staying, is F249."
"Got it," Duo replied.
The doctor frowned and left and the psychologist didn't waste any time motioning Duo to sit down. Duo sat on the examination table while he took the rolling stool and moved closer.
"Now, tell me about your circumstances, Duo," the man insisted.
"What's there to say? I'm a guy, sex is always good. Getting money for it seemed like a dream job."
"Until you weren't picking and choosing any longer?"
Duo gritted his teeth and then retorted, "I had a choice. I could have walked away. I was... greedy."
"Needy?" Worfstein purposefully misunderstood. "When a person is high on drugs, it's hard to think clearly, to make good decisions. I'm sure the person, who was giving you the jobs, counted on that."
Duo knew that it was true, it loosened his tongue, making him vent, to a stranger, the confusion that had been heavy on his mind. "I've seen it happen, walked the streets every day with people like that. I don't know why I thought that I was different."
"You thought that you were in control, but it was an illusion," Worfstein told him, sympathetically. "Predators are good at finding weakness and knowing when to take advantage of it. They tell you what you most want to hear."
"I know that!" Duo agreed, angrily, hurting inside. "I kept thinking, just for a little while, and then I'll have something else to pay the bills with... I was so tired all the time, though, so strung out. I never even looked."
"They wear you down, make you dependant, and take control, " Worfstein spoke softly, as if he were part of Duo's thoughts.
Duo found himself all too eager to finally speak to someone who seemed to understand, but Worfstein was standing up as he offered, "Even if Preventers isn't your choice, as a career, I'm here to help. Don't go back to the streets. There are other ways."
Duo nodded shakily as he stood up as well. He was hugging himself, feeling vulnerable. He chuckled darkly, "You're young to be so good."
"You should know that age means nothing," Worfstein replied. He gave Duo's shoulder a squeeze. "Get your pills, now, so that you can get better, and I will see you tomorrow after your next physical."
Duo frowned. "Another physical? If that doctor keeps sticking in his finger, I will charge him."
Worfstein laughed, but then said more seriously, "If you allow me, I'll make certain that you never feel the need to 'charge for it' again. I know many organizations that help veterans."
"Let's see what Preventers has for me first." Duo replied, "and Heero Yuy."
------------------------------------------------
"Describe the man," Heero asked as he turned on a recorder.
Duo rolled eyes as if he was looking inside his head. "Pudgy, balding, big glasses.. little nose. He wore a suit, but it was geeky. Brown, brown, and more brown. Mind you, That's all I got to see. He hit me with something... injection, I think, and said something about not liking screaming. That's all I remember until I woke up in the hospital."
"Adjust the image," Heero ordered as he turned a computer screen towards Duo. A man, just as Duo described, looked back at him.
"His head was bigger, weirdly big, like a potato," Duo told the computer and the image shifted. "Blue eyes. Stringy hair. Waddle under his chin." The computer adjusted the image again and Duo nodded. "That's him.."
Heero frowned studying Duo's amused expression. "Doesn't it bother you, seeing him?"
Duo shrugged and swiveled his chair away. "If shit makes you stink, you don't act all surprised. I knew he was shit, when I went in there."
Heero pondered that for a long moment, and then said, "Don't you want to see him locked up? Don't you want revenge?"
Duo's amused expression faded. "Maybe I'm too used to being powerless? Maybe I just expect to be kicked in the nuts? I don't think you're going to get him. I don't think that I matter that much."
"Une thinks that you do," Heero corrected a he saved the image and added it to the file.
"Then there's another reason for wanting this guy," Duo insisted. "Maybe she wants me on her team, and maybe I want to be on it, but Duo the prostitute doesn't rise to the level of Preventer involvement."
"Who said that?" Heero wanted to know. It didn't sound like something that Duo would say.
Duo shrugged. "When people think you're dirt, they don't mind talking as if you're not there. People talked. It's not a murder case, Heero. This guy is only guilty of getting wicked with a slut."
"I was given this case," Heero told him firmly. "I will find this man. I will have him arrested. He is wanted for attempted murder. It's possible that he has committed previous murder, or will attempt murder again. It's my duty to take him off of the street."
"I don't matter, just like I said," Duo said as he threw Heero a glare over his shoulder and then swiveled around to face him again. "With you it's about murder, not who's getting murdered."
"My personal feelings, don't enter in to this case," Heero assured him. "I don't discount a life because that life is being lived contrary to my beliefs."
Duo suddenly put his feet on the table and lifted his ass up, rocking back in his chair to give Heero a good view. "This is worth money, Yuy. So is being flexible and having good suction. He slipped his feet off of the table and leaned forward. "Sometimes, I even enjoy it. There are a lot of jobs, out there, Yuy, that are worse."
Heero scowled and stood up. Duo grinned, looking more unrepentant than he felt. When attacked, he fought back. He couldn't help it.
"This case would be easier, if you gave up the location of your handler," Heero told him.
"Honor among whores," Duo replied with a shrug. "I think, if you really wanted to, that you could find this sick fuck without anything else from me. People like him, tend to like certain things. They stick to it."
Heero nodded, taking that advice seriously. He said, just as serious, "You haven't stopped calling yourself a prostitute. I think that you haven't made up your mind, yet, about who you wish to be."
"Habit," Duo corrected him, "Just like 'Mr brown'. Habit, is a hard thing to change."
"Change this one," Heero asked with sudden intensity.
Duo blinked at him, caught off guard, and then said softly. "A lot of times, Heero, they don't want to see your face, and, most times, they don't want you to talk. You know why?" When Heero just stared, Duo answered his own question, "Because, they're imagining that you're someone else. Isn't that a kicker? They go to all of the trouble to get you, and pay for you, and then they want you to be someone else."
"Does it matter?" Heero finally asked.
"A guy gets tired of being someone else," Duo replied bitterly. "Maybe that's why I'm here?"
"I hope so," Heero replied.
Duo cocked his head to one side. "You almost sound like you care."
"I'm in Preventers because I do care," Heero replied. He checked his watch. "Time for your physical. We'll pick this up again later. I'd like to question you further about some details."
Duo watched Heero go and then said to the empty room,despondently, "I meant about me."
TBC