Disclaimer: I own nothing but this fic.
WARNING: sex, drugs, snd implied rape. If none of these are float your boat, please hit the back button now.
Highs and Lows
It is not the first time he has come to Kyou Hanaki's home, and he doubts it will be the last, but the strange, overpowering aroma that lingers throughout the small apartment never fails to make his eyes water and his head spin. He joked, once, that someone could get high just walking into the place, and Kyou had laughed and told him it was probably true.
The place is dimly lit with dying lightbulbs in broken fixtures and hazy with toxins. It comes as no surprise that Kyou is in need of renovations but has yet to bother fixing what needs to be fixed, considering all of his money is spent on drugs. All that matters is his fix, the world and whatever else lies beyond the cloud of noxious fumes can try again some other time.
And Kazuo Kuwabara sees nothing wrong with Kyou's lifestyle, because he spends all of his money on cheap hookers, and when the money runs out he simply helps himself to whatever he finds roaming the streets. Sometimes it's better when it's free, then they struggle and cry and bleed like they mean it.
"You ever gonna clean this rat hole up?" Kuwabara asks as he sits on Kyou's bed, the mattress groaning under his weight, and he's sure there's a broken spring just about ready to break through the wearing material.
"Maybe some day," Kyou tells him as he fusses with things on the dresser, viles and needles and tourniquets.
"Bullshit," Kuwabara says, lighting a cigarette. "You been sayin' that since day one."
Kyou chuckles. "Yeah, well. You never know." He turns around to face the older man, eyes wide and pinked, pupils dilated. He shakes his head and runs a hand through his hair. "Why're you smokin' that cheap shit?"
"You got something better?" Kuwabara taunts, knowing damn well the kid's got some high quality stuff waiting for him.
"Damn right," Kyou says with a wide grin, reaching behind himself and taking a syringe into his hand. He walks forward with it and presses to Kuwabara's chest with his free hand, balanced on one knee between the other man's thighs.
"No," Kuwabara says, refusing to lay back, taking the needle from Kyou easily. "You first," he says, voice low and husky as he flips the other over and straddles his slender waist. He presses the needle tip to the supple flesh of Kyou's arm and drags it down, leaving a red swell in its wake, until he reaches the crook of his elbow.
Glancing up at the user's face, he's pleased to see Kyou already biting his lip and trembling, eager to accept the drug into his body. Kuwabara's just as eager; he loves fucking his teammate when he's high out of his mind, then he doesn't stop moving, doesn't stop begging for it even after they're both spent.
Kuwabara bites his lip as he pushes and the needle-tip breaks the skin, slides into a hardened vein, and when he injects the drug Kyou moans. Pulling the needle out and tossing it aside, sure he hears it smash on the floor, Kuwabara leans down to lick the pin-head wound on Kyou's arm, tasting blood and sweet poison and sweat, cigarette clenched between two fingers for now.
"Like that?" Kuwabara teases with a smirk on his lips.
"Hell yeah," Kyou says breathlessly, "feels fuckin' awesome. Take some," he urges, raising a shaking hand to point toward the dresser.
Kuwabara looks over his shoulder, then smirks as he takes his cigarette back into his mouth and sucks. Shaking his head, he blows the nicotine smoke into Kyou's face, reveling in the way he coughs and his eyes water from the sting. "Maybe some other time," he says, taking his cigarette between his fingers again and tapping hot ash onto Kyou's bare stomach.
Kyou gasps and wriggles and slaps at his skin, already burned, until Kuwabara's bigger hands take hold of his wrists and pin them beside his head. He kisses him, breathing foul smoke into his mouth, driving his wicked tongue in and toying with Kyou's. The smaller of the two is clumsy as he returns the kiss, saliva dripping from the corners of his mouth, tongue darting this way and that until Kuwabara pulls away, flushed and licking his lips.
"Mmm," he moans, crushing the butt of the cigarette into an ashtray on the bedside table, full of half-smoked joints. Kyou starts to wriggle, rubbing his hard-on against Kuwabara's growing erection, and the older man can't help but grin wide and lecherously, a flush on his cheeks.
It will never get old, seeing Kyou squirm beneath him, willing and unwilling all at once.
"Quit fuckin' around," Kyou groans, then gasps as Kuwabara reaches between them and fondles his dick through his jeans and boxers. "Just fuck me, man."
"Shut up," Kuwabara hisses, though he doesn't really want him to, it's just a dominance thing, and Kyou knows disobedience turns him on all the more.
"Fuck me ," he persists.
Kuwabara silences his momentarily by squeezing his dick tight. "Don't know when to shut your hole, do ya? How about we put that mouth to use?" He says as he undoes his own fly, releasing his erection.
He allows Kyou enough freedom to sit up, however once he's leaning against the headboard Kuwabara has his hands pinned beside his head once more and his dick in his mouth. Kyou blushes, sucking and bobbing his head as much as he can while Kuwabara fucks his mouth until his lips are numb and his jaws ache.
"Gonna shut up?" Kuwabara taunts.
Kyou nods dumbly, if only because he's eager to get it up the ass. Kuwabara pulls back, saliva coating his straining cock. He's quick to get Kyou on his hands and knees and strip him of his clothes, to suck on one of his fingers then shove it into Kyou's tight hole.
It doesn't take long before Kyou's body is willing and Kuwabara replaces his finger with his dick. They move together awkwardly, the way they always do; Kuwabara trying to form a steady rhythm while Kyou writhes and thrashes and begs for more than he can handle. When they are finished, sweaty and sticky and laying side-by-side on their backs, Kuwabara lights another cigarette and Kyou stares wide-eyed at the ceiling.
It's a matter of minutes before Kyou's asleep and Kuwabara's getting dressed and leaving.
Sometimes, Kyou's better than the whores out there on the corners, selling it for more than it's worth, and the women who scream and cry and say they don't want it. Sometimes only Kyou can scratch that one specific, otherworldly itch – but most of the time, he's not any better at all and Kuwabara's just a placebo replacing the rush only the Hunt can really provide.
They use and abuse each other for all their worth to pass the time until Gantz calls them out again, and they will continue to do so until they grow tired of the Game or drop dead, because people like them know no other way to live than on impulse.
-End