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Despite wanting nothing more than to kill Strawhat— or should he say the emperor— on the spot, it wasn't going to work tonight. Another time then.
For now, at least Kaido and Big Mom were defeated. Kid didn't give a damn about the land of Wano or its history, as long as those two pains in the ass were gone, he could enjoy tonight.
Kid mostly hung around his crew. He downed another cup of beer. “Of course, I was awesome! You think Trafalgar coulda’ carried the fight?”
“I heard that!” Law sat with his legs crossed atop a barrel.
“Good!”
After a few more snide exchanges, Killer said, “That's enough, Kid.”
The captain huffed. “Alright, fine.”
Normally, he wouldn't heed anyone's suggestions. However, with Killer, it was different. That was his closest friend, his first-mate, his partner.
The celebrations continued. And although Kid would never admit it, the atmosphere was a nice change. Especially seeing his crew members having so much fun. They all deserved it.
Tomorrow morning, he would leave Wano and continue his journey, yet right now, some old man had arranged for the “alliance's” (he was not in any alliance) sleeping arrangements for the night. There weren't enough rooms, so they'd have to share. Kid didn't think twice before pairing with Killer.
Entering their room on the top floor of a small motel in the Flower Capital City, Killer said, “It's finally over, huh?”
“Yeah.” Memories of what their crew had to endure subsequent to rejecting Kaido reentered Kid's mind.
A wave of protectiveness washed over him. “Everything went smoothly with Hawkins?”
“Yeah,” Killer said before adding, “His devil-fruit power was tricky, but I managed.”
Kid grinned, “I knew you would, partner.”
Killer took off his mask. His usually straight lips were slightly curved up. The new resting face did nothing to deter Kid from appreciating his partner.
The blond man gave him a small smile. “I knew you would defeat Big Mom, too.”
Bright blue eyes looked into deep red ones. Killer's purple lipstick was slightly faded and his bangs were messy. He looked as beautiful as usual.
Kid licked his lips and pulled off his boots. “Come on, let's sleep now.”
Killer nodded. They were both too exhausted to take off their makeup.
The bed wasn't small; it was a double bed. However, he and Killer were too big. He still had no complaints though.
Killer tugged on the blanket, leaving Kid's right side bare.
“Hey, stop that! Gimme the blanket.”
“I need some too.” He tugged it back.
Kid relented and tried giving them both equal portions before changing his mind. “I'm bigger, so naturally, I should have more.”
The quiet sound of Killer's unique laugh filled the room for a second. “Alright, as you like.”
Kid subtly shifted the blanket towards his left.
He turned onto his side, and although it was dark, he knew Killer was facing him. He hadn't shared a bed with his childhood best friend for a long time. There was a sort of comfort he felt. Killer always had that effect on him. If Kid was a rocky ship, then Killer was his anchor.
Maybe on another night, Kid wouldn't say anything, but tonight was special. Two emperors were defeated, and he and his crew were safe and sound.
“Hey, Killer,” he whispered.
“Hm?”
Kid hesitated upon hearing the smooth and deep “hm,” suddenly feeling a bit self-conscious.
Self-conscious, me? What a joke!
“You’ve done well, and the whole crew for that matter.” His cheeks were on fire but he wasn't done. “Thanks for always supporting me.”
There, done. Kid vowed to himself to never say something as sappy as that again. Actions spoke much louder than words after all!
“Of course,” came Killer's immediate reply. “I'll support you to hell and back if I have to. And I know you'd do the same.”
Kid felt satisfied hearing that. “Damn right I would.”
***
Although Killer was relieved to see Kid doing well after the storm was finally over, he wasn't too relieved. He already had full faith in his captain's triumph.
After his fair share of pasta and booze, Killer was more than ready to sleep. He took off his mask with ease and gazed at Kid. The man was sitting on the edge of the bed with his legs spread, leaning back on his arm. New wounds painted his skin, yet he looked as radiant as ever.
It was hard to take his eyes off Kid. He continued leering at Kid as he unbuckled his belts, threw off his goggles, and removed his fur cape and unbuttoned shirt. Killer drank up the sight of his partner's bare torso. He was as beautiful as ever.
Killer felt Kid turn to lie on his side, facing him. Their knees were touching. The quiet comfort that settled over them was all Killer ever wanted. Or, well, maybe he wanted a little more with Kid. But that was just a faraway fantasy, an unrealistic notion.
“Hey, Killer,” Kid whispered.
“Hm?” Killer didn't expect Kid to have anything further to say. The man's tone reigned in Killer's full attention.
“You’ve done well, and the whole crew for that matter,” Kid began, then added after a moment, “Thanks for always supporting me.”
Despite his surprise, Killer instantly replied, “Of course. I'll support you to hell and back if I have to. And I know you'd do the same.”
Kid didn't have to say that. Killer knew he appreciated him and the crew. Kid was a good captain. He also didn't have to thank him for his support. They were partners. Mutual trust and support came to them as naturally as breathing.
But Kid still did. The man who's still too embarrassed to ask Killer for help painting his nails decided to speak from his heart.
“Damn right I would.”
Killer smiled and closed his eyes.
***
Eustass Captain Kid's crew weren't a bunch of rookie pirates; however, neither were the Beast pirates. The Kid Pirates needed some time to rest and recover.
Kid wasn't going to let his crew slack for long, but the downtime wasn't all that bad. He'd still much rather be kicking ass though.
It was midday as Wire reported casualties, the ship's condition and supplies to Kid. He mentally noted the information before making his escape toward the room on the Victoria Punk where all his metal scraps and tinkering materials lay.
The room was essentially Kid's own at this point. Almost no one else had business there, not that he was opposed to anyone using the room.
Kid summoned bolts and small boards of metal. He was working on creating an improved version of his prosthetic arm. He had to rely more on his devil fruit power ever since he lost his arm, but it was nothing Kid couldn't handle.
However, there was actually one small task he couldn't handle by himself.
Kid curled the fingers on his right arm so they were facing upwards. “Tch,” he scoffed. There was almost more white than red on his nails. Unfortunately, his metal arm wasn't yet nimble enough for precision tasks.
Killer…
Usually, his vice-captain would offer to paint his nails whenever he noticed. Kid has never asked him first; that being said, it hadn't been too long since he lost his arm.
Perhaps due to his irritation at his unaesthetic nails or the desire to see Killer (maybe both), Kid abandoned his tools to seek the man out.
The main deck was littered with crew members; however, a striped mask wasn't spotted among them.
Probably in the kitchen.
“Kid. Just in time.” Killer served their crew member, Hip, a portion of what looked like soup.
Sitting in his usual seat at the table, Kid let Killer serve him. His friends started eating as soon as the food was in front of them. Kid didn’t wait as well. He shovelled the fish soup into his mouth.
His eyes drifted to Killer. The blond man took a seat perpendicular to Kid.
“He's gonna be a real pain in the ass,” Kid jumped into the conversation between his crewmates.
The talk of Blackbeard’s and Law’s fight was hot these days. It was unfortunate that not even one of them kicked the bucket. The conversations flowed as the current crewmates ate. Kid didn’t feel the need to angle his hand in a way so that Killer would take notice of his nails. Surely, his partner would notice on his own.
Soon, the kitchen became more spacious as the pirates trickled out.
“Never tired of pasta, ey?” Kid asked Killer once they were alone.
“Nope.” Killer sipped water through a straw.
Kid stayed seated at the table as Killer put back ingredients he had pulled out. The silence between them was comfortable. Well, it was comfortable. Kid pressed his lips together in a thin line. Even when Killer was done putting everything away, he still didn’t bring up what Kid was waiting for.
Kid glanced at his nails, then at Killer. Maybe he didn’t notice? Either way, Kid wasn’t just going to wait around like a child waiting for candy. This wasn’t just anyone, after all. This was Killer, his childhood friend and partner. He wouldn’t judge him over something as minor as asking for help to paint his nails.
Kid internally cringed at the thought of asking for help before smothering the doubt.
Killer. My most trustworthy friend.
“Hey, Kil—”
“Heard we got fish soup today,” Heat interrupted Kid.
Kid couldn’t see Killer’s eyes, but he could tell the other man’s gaze lingered on himself before leaving.
“Yeah. Want some?”
“Sure thing.”
Killer served his friend the soup before taking a seat at the table again. However, his captain took his leave a minute later. Killer had expected to idly chat with his two close friends.
“He seems to be in a bad mood?” Wire prompted after swallowing his mouthful.
Killer shrugged his shoulders as if he didn’t know what had miffed their captain.
It was certain that Kid was upset because he couldn't say whatever it was he intended to. Killer was unsure what Kid was going to say. Could it have been about his nails?
Another day aboard the Victoria Punk was coming to an end. Being the vice-captain was no walk in the park— at least for Killer. He was in charge of the crew’s meals and various aspects of the crew’s logistics.
Before Killer knew it, his usual time to kick the hay had arrived. Yet instead of heading to the sleeping quarters, Killer headed to the captain's private room.
It was late, but not late enough for Kid to be asleep yet.
Knock, knock. Killer's knocking was the only sound besides the lapping of the waves against the Victoria Punk's hull.
“Come in,” came Kid's gruff voice.
Inside the room, Kid was sitting on his single bed with one leg on the ground. He was bare-faced. His boots and goggles were gone. The articles of clothing at his waist, including his belts, were also discarded. Kid's upper body was almost on full display. Killer leered at the “V” shaped lines on his lower abdomen before observing that he held a map.
Killer tore his eyes away and closed the door behind him. Click.
The candle on Kid's nightstand flickered as Killer entered the room. “What are you doing?”
“Nothing special. Just looking at our course,” Kid replied, placing the map aside.
Killer didn't say anything else in response. He waited a few seconds for Kid to say anything before he was about to speak. However, he was beaten to it.
“Can you paint my nails for me, Killer?” Kid looked right at him as he posed the request, before his eyes darted away.
Killer blinked inside his mask. Kid directly asking him for help with a personal task? That didn't happen every day.
Killer's involuntary laugh filled the room for a couple of seconds before disappearing.
“Yeah. I can.” His monotonous tone betrayed the creeping warmth in his heart.
Killer sat down on Kid's bed as the other man retrieved his nail polish from his desk drawer.
“Surprised you asked me this time.”
“Oh shut up. You just couldn't hold back from saying that.”
Killer smiled. “Should I remove the polish before applying more?”
“No. Next time.”
Killer nodded before grasping Kid's hand. He studied Kid's face behind the safety of his mask.
It didn't take long to finish painting his nails, much to Killer's disappointment. He liked the new custom of painting Kid's nails.
These were moments of trust and comfort between them, at least in Killer's view. Not that he was being sappy— it was just a fact.
And sometimes, Killer's mind would run a little too wild. For example, in this moment, it almost seemed like they were more than just friends.
Partners— the word rang in Killer’s mind.
“Thanks.” Kid admired Killer's work.
“Anytime.”
“Why didn't you offer to paint them like you usually do?” Kid asked as he blew his nails.
“Why do you ask?” Killer already knew the answer to his question.
“No reason,” came Kid's quick response. “Just— you usually notice and immediately offer to.”
“I noticed. I always notice.” The unsaid word you echoed in Killer's head after saying “I always notice.” “I was waiting to finish up in the kitchen.”
“I knew that!” Kid's cheeks were dusted a faint pink.
“Then why'd you ask?”
“Do you want me to leave your ass behind at the next island?” Kid raised his voice.
Killer chuckled. “Alright, alright. I'll let it go.”
***
The good news was that Kid's nails were back to shining a deep red. The bad news was that Killer was teasing him.
Kid was never adept at dealing with being teased, but especially not with Killer. Something about his calm disposition and his knowing-tone set off Kid's self-defence instincts.
Kid had given up on getting his nails painted by the evening. So when he got a late-night visit by the very man he was definitely not internally pouting at all day— Kid was quite content.
As Killer held his hand and directed his focus to his task, Kid closed his eyes for a moment. His body was relaxed. He recalled the amount of effort Killer and the rest of the crew had expended on him when he lost his arm. It was mostly Killer though. Kid wouldn't want anyone to see him in such a pathetic state, not even Killer if possible.
However, Killer was the only person he felt somewhat comfortable with tending to him.
Ever since they were children, actually, Killer had always been taking care of him. The knowledge only served to fuel Kid to become an even stronger captain— so one day, he would become king of the pirates!
“Alright, alright. I'll let it go,” Killer's smooth voice placated.
Suddenly, Kid wanted to see Killer’s face. It wasn't fair that the other man got to witness his blushing mess.
Kid deserved to see Killer’s face as well!
The thought of wanting to see a blushing Killer crossed his mind. And the thought of why the hell Kid desired to see that followed.
“Did you remove your lipstick?”
“Not yet.”
“Let me do it.” Kid resolutely said.
They used to apply makeup on one another back in their hometown. Never had they done so since then.
Killer didn't reply.
Kid's confidence slightly wavered. Surely Killer wouldn't mind, right? Or was it weird that he even offered to remove his lipstick in the first place? Sure, it was a tad whimsical but—
Killer removed his mask and dropped it on his mattress. His blue eyes found his red eyes through his long bangs. Kid's thoughts abruptly stopped when Killer's handsome and maddeningly pretty face came into sight.
Kid's mind subconsciously noticed the discrepancy between such a pretty face and the hunk of a body that followed.
Killer stared at Kid. Tacit consent.
Kid grabbed a makeup wipe from the small box of wipes in his desk. He sat back down on the bed, facing Killer.
He felt the absence of his left arm. Ideally, it would be holding Killer’s chin or maybe Killer's thigh. But without it (or his makeshift prosthetic), he was forced to do his best with one hand prodding at his lips.
It was a little rough. He pressed the moist wipe against Killer's mouth. Then, he rubbed it around his lips.
Kid glanced at his partner's eyes and immediately regretted it. Those boring eyes sent a wave of heat through his body.
Electrifying.
Kid saw Killer's face every now and then. He also acknowledged his good looks and attractive body in a matter-of-fact way. Yet for some reason, wiping the purple lipstick off his lips, Kid felt fixated on Killer.
He lowered his eyes and let his thumb slightly press into the corner of Killer's lip.
The space between Kid and Killer, or rather, the lack of space between his leaning body and Killer's became quite conspicuous in Kid's mind.
He felt his thoughts slipping into a dangerous area. A zone that he had suppressed for a long time. An area he makes himself forget about.
“Done.”
“Hm.”
“I'll see you later then.” Killer stood up.
“See you, partner.”
Killer swiped his bangs back. For a moment, the entirety of his long-lashed blue eyes shone in their entirety. He smiled.
***
“Don't ask me dumb questions, of course we're stopping!” Kid bellowed.
It wasn't obvious that the ship's captain was in a bad mood today— he usually acted abrasive. However, perhaps for those with slightly more keen perception, they'd notice Kid's irritation.
He had a shitty sleep the night before. It had been a few days since he removed his partner's makeup, yet Killer had still been on his mind. It felt like something had changed between them. Or to be specific, Kid was finally focusing on his feelings for Killer.
Kid didn't do all that feelings and sentimental stuff. All he knew were two things: Killer was hot as hell, and he meant the world to him.
Those observations seemed normal enough to him. Yet there was a lingering thought that kept pushing its way to the forefront of Kid's mind.
What if I ask Killer to…
“Hey, Captain, take a look at this.”
“Huh? Oh, what is it?”
Good, a distraction. Exactly what the redhead man needed.
Further in the day, he took a nap under the vast blue sky. His hair shone with a freshly washed apple-like sheen. Kid wasn't the type to busy himself with menial tasks, his crew could figure it all out.
All was going well in the day, except when it wasn't. Kid woke up with an odd sensation in his lack of left arm.
The phantom pain was back. At first, it was just phantom itches that he'd never be able to scratch. But then the sensation increased in severity.
Kid scowled. He stood up, gripping his stump. “Screw you, Beckman,” he murmured.
“Screw who?”
Kid jumped and spun around. “Don't sneak up on me, Killer!”
Sometimes the man could be as quiet as a slithering snake.
“It's nothing,” Kid grumbled in response to Killer's question.
Killer said nothing as he stood in front of him. Kid let his arm rest.
Hopefully, Killer hadn't noticed his discomfort. He wasn't weak. A little pain was nothing, at least not compared to the hell he went through in the following week of his dismemberment.
“It's been a while since I massaged your stump.”
Kid narrowed his eyes at the subtle suggestion. Killer had tried various treatments, like the bullshit that “mirror-therapy” was, in the start. However, Kid rejected them all with a temper that would have any doctor packing their bags. The only treatment he accepted were massages from Killer alone.
He had to admit, the massages did help. They both knew that. And they felt good. Killer knew precisely how to use his hands to make his captain feel good.
But the thought of Killer's hands kneading his skin felt a little different this time.
“What are you tryna say?”
“I'm asking if you want a massage?” Killer calmly iterated.
“I guess it wouldn't hurt.” Fuck. It'll be anything but painful.
Killer nodded.
Kid walked to his room, his gait self-assured. His disposition deceived his inner state of mind.
Inside his room, the window gave way to illuminating sunlight. A half-full bottle of booze rested on his desk.
Kid wasn't kept waiting; Killer soon entered his room. He pushed open the ajar door with a small vial of oil in hand.
This was just the usual steps of his treatment. Nothing more, nothing less.
The door softly shut.
Kid's pupils followed Killer, eyeing the muscular arm that could compare to his own down to the vial.
Kid swallowed.
So what if his mind went to the gutter? That wasn't anything new.
“Let's get this going.”
Killer gave a small “Hm,” before joining his captain on his bed.
Killer was glad to have caught Kid in a moment of pain. Otherwise, the obstinate man that he was— he'd never reach out to him. Kid could be such a pain sometimes.
Kid pushed his grandiose cape off his shoulders. He wasn't looking at him.
Killer focused his attention on his task. He squirted several drops of oil onto his hand, then rubbed them together.
Kid sat silently with his brows slightly furrowed. The pain must be bothering him.
Starting with his shoulder, the blond man slowly caressed the skin down to the stump. The skin was healed now. All that was left was a gnarly-looking scar.
He lathered the appendage in warm oil with circular motions. Their knees were touching as they usually did during these massages.
“Are we close to an island?” Kid asked.
“We should be reaching land within one or two days, according to the logpose.”
Kid grunted in response before quieting down again.
When Killer glanced at Kid's face, he saw his partner's eyes closed. His eyebrows were no longer furrowed. However, his body was still tense for some reason.
“Relax your body,” Killer quietly murmured close to Kid's ear.
Kid's body immediately tensed before loosening up. “I don't need you to tell me that!”
Killer rolled his eyes beneath his mask before placing a hand on Kid's other shoulder and pressing down on his stiff shoulders.
The room was quiet aside from the muffled sounds of the crew coming from outside the room. Killer's eyes kept wandering back to Kid's face. His lips were plump, far thicker than his own. The shade of red was slightly deeper than the shade of his hair. An alluring deep red.
Everything was red about Kid. His nails, hair, eyes, lipstick, his fiery attitude, his passion.
Killer licked his lips.
Could he be blamed for his thoughts though? Kid was a work of art. Anyone with a pair of working eyes would certainly agree.
“Feeling better?”
Kid’s tongue peeked out, wetting his lips. “Yeah.”
If Killer wasn't imagining things, Kid seemed to be a bit different today. Something subtle about his behaviour appeared off.
“Are you okay, Kid?” Killer asked in his slightly southern accent.
“Huh? Why would you ask that?” Kid frowned.
Killer's eyes darted to his reddening complexion. He tilted his head the way he often does when confused. Surely it couldn't be what Killer was refusing to even entertain.
Kid wouldn't think that right? They were childhood best friends. Sure, the two were close, but not that close. At least, on Kid's end. Killer wasn't going to ruin the bond they had simply because he what, wanted to fuck his captain?
Although his feelings were a lot deeper than just a quick release— it would still seem superficial. Furthermore, Kid probably didn't even like him in that way.
Right?
“Killer, snap out of it! I'm okay.” He adjusted his position, placing his hand over his lap.
***
Fuck he was not okay. Kid was everything but okay.
Warm water trickled down his face as he closed the water coming from the showerhead. Kid hadn't decided to take a shower to get rid of his painfully hard hard-on— but to help himself. He satisfied himself to none other than his vice-captain, Killer.
Kid had always been attracted to Killer. But he never took it this far. And the worst part of it all was that he didn't feel ashamed.
“Fuck…” Kid tilted his head back. He relentlessly pumped his dick with the remaining oil in the vial. He imagined it was Killer’s hand instead, picturing the other man massaging him, then suddenly dragging his hand lower toward the area that now ached more than his phantom pains.
Killer pinning him down, taking what he wants, seeing Kid in a way that no one else ever had or would see him in. The idea was both exhilarating and frustrating.
He was fantasizing about someone dominating him.
Despite the slight shame, Kid’s large hand jerked himself off even quicker before his breathing stuttered. He tried switching his thoughts to reversing his position with Killer, yet his mind flitted back to the prior fantasy.
“Killer,” Kid grunted as he came all over his hand.
The redhead leaned his forehead against the shower’s cool wall. He inhaled a deep breath. Kid rubbed the cum around the length of his softening cock, avoiding the sensitive tip.
He couldn’t get Killer out of his head. It was as if he had torn down a dam, his lust finally being permitted to flow. “That bastard…” Kid mumbled.
***
It had been three days since Kid got off to his bestfriend. Things were pretty normal between him and his partner. The crew docked at an island to plunder and do whatever the hell they wanted to there. Kid learned that the island was a part of the world government, yet they didn’t have any protection from either the marines or a formidable pirate crew’s flag.
It would only take one day for their logposes to adjust again. Kid knew exactly where he wanted to go next; just a little more patience was necessary.
“Hey, Captain Kid, why don’t we stay the night here instead of the ship?” Quincy asked.
“Sure,” Kid easily agreed.
“We’ll watch over the ship.” Heat jerked his head toward Wire.
“We’ll set sail tomorrow morning then.”
Kid turned his head to face Killer. He wondered what the other man would do tonight. The captain approached Killer. “Come. Let’s toast a drink to how far we’ve come.”
Killer followed Kid into the town square. The sun had almost fully set, its receding light no longer illuminating the cobblestone paths. The townspeople hid in their homes and closed their windows shut tight. Kid wasn’t going to cause the fearful people any unnecessary trouble if they stayed out of his way.
But if they were pirates this scared, that’d be another story.
Kid spotted a group of his crew with mugs in hand, sauntering the streets.
“Over there.” Killer spotted the town’s bar.
Inside the well-lit bar, a middle-aged man stood behind the counter.
“Surprised he didn’t run away,” Kid murmured to himself.
“Give us some good beer, old man.”
The man didn’t say anything as he poured out two tall mugs for the pirates. If it weren’t for his shaking hands, Kid wouldn’t have been able to discern his fear.
Killer and Kid grabbed their drinks and headed to a table next to the bar’s farthest side wall.
The blond man took a sip from the straw he always kept on him. “Not bad.”
“Seems so!” Kid wiped his mouth. The noisy clang of his mug slamming down on the table rang out.
The two talked about various things. For example, speculation over Trafalgar Law’s and Strawhat’s next destination, the “man with the burnscar” lead, and then about finding a room to sleep the night away in.
Despite having a few more drinks, neither men were drunk. Pleasently buzzed described the captain more accurately. Before leaving the bar, Kid tossed a few coins to the bartender— only because he liked his attitude.
As the two made their way to a motel they remembered seeing earlier, Kid’s mind travelled back to the night post-Wano. Would today be another repeat of that night?
Getting a room was as easy as getting their beer. Stepping into a room, they noticed a nice double bed. So when Killer appeared to be leaving, Kid stopped him.
“Hey, bed's big enough for two. Isn't it?” He asked like it was obvious.
Kid's heart beat a little quicker— only a little. He knew what he wanted by asking Killer to stay. But Killer didn't.
Kid stared at that impenetrable mask.
Killer finally gave a nod. “Can't argue with that.”
It was even darker in the room when Killer closed the door. Suddenly, it felt like all the tipsiness had dissipated from Kid's body.
“What are you thinking, Kid?” Killer asked before he sat down on the bed.
“Huh? Uh, nothing. I was just— my arm is kinda bothering me— what's left of it,” he lied.
Killer stood up. “Phantom pains?”
“Barely! Just an itch if anything!”
“Hm..”
Kid bit his lip.
“Would you like me to massage your stump?”
An urge to refuse immediately came to Kid. But he wanted Killer's hands on him. It was like a flame had been lit in his being, Killer being the only one to extinguish it.
“Just for a few minutes.”
Thank the gods for the vial of oil Kid decided to keep on his person. You never knew when some oil might come in handy… like right now.
“Why do you have oil on you?”
“Many reasons. Like for my tinkering.”
Killer didn't further probe him.
Kid wanted Killer to take off his mask. But he didn't ask. Kid would never ask him to do that. Killer never really told him the reason why he started covering his face at a certain point. But it didn't take a genius to figure out the man was self-conscious of it— probably as a result of his intense insecurity about his laugh.
Kid had no idea how someone who looked like that could be self-conscious. Fuck, Killer was a real looker, alright.
Kid almost flinched when he felt those familiar hands on him. He gulped. It was now or never.
He was going to ask Killer to give him something more, something they've never done before.
But it was different. Killer was different. This wouldn't be like having sex with a woman he barely knew (or the very few men he's rolled around with).
Kid wasn’t that emotionally lacking that he wasn't aware that if Killer went with his desires, things would be different between them from then on.
But that was hardly a deterrent. Quite the opposite, if any.
“Should be enough now. How does it feel?” Killer broke their comfortable silence.
“Yeah, it’s better now. Thanks.”
“Don't mention it.” The blond man pulled his hands back.
Kid already missed the gentle yet firm kneading. He grabbed Killer's hand. His body was closer to Killer's now, thanks to having to use his left arm.
Killer suddenly started laughing.
Kid knew it was the involuntary one.
Damn you, Kaido. Well, Kaido was long since damned anyway, thankfully.
It was now or never. Maybe the rejection from Killer would snap his perverted mind back into reality. At the thought of a rejection, Kid almost winced.
Well, worst-case scenario, he can just say he was drunk or something.
But maybe… maybe their deep bond could give way to something more.
“Killer…” Kid licked his lips. “Keep touching me.”
It wasn't an order, not a demand from a captain. But Kid's quiet tone, far from his usually loud and haughty one, made his words almost feel like a request.
Killer felt like he had misheard him. Or maybe something was wrong with Kid? Because what the hell did he mean by “Keep touching me?”
Killer had noticed that Kid seemed different. But that was because of the alcohol, right? That would explain why Kid invited him to sleep the night with him. They were partners, best friends after all.
“What do you mean, Kid?”
“I said what I said!”
“I…” Killer was confused. “Does it still hurt?” he asked despite his mind hoping it was something else.
There was a lot more Killer was willing to do with Kid, to Kid. If only he let him.
“No.”
That was all the confirmation Killer needed. He placed both of his hands on Kid's neck. He could feel the man's pulse. It was fast.
Killer slightly smirked beneath his mask. Although he was in no state to judge Kid. His own heartbeat was beginning to speed up.
What did this mean? What would be the implications? Part of him wanted to talk things out before advancing, but the selfish part of him wanted to throw his brain away and let his hands do the talking.
“You don't have to.”
Killer stilled.
“We're equals. No one can make either of us do anything we don't want to.”
“No. I want to touch you.” Killer took in a deep breath, preparing himself. He took off his mask. “Kid, I've been wanting you.”
Kid blinked. “Yeah?” That's a fucking relief.” He grabbed Kid's jaw and shoved their lips together.
Killer stared at Kid's closed eyes.
Within just a second, their tongues met. Killer's grip on Kid's shoulder tightened. It was surreal to feel the other's tongue with his own. It was so hot and wet. His head was close to spinning.
When Kid pulled back, Killer couldn't take his eyes off the other man's face. Except there was a problem.
He got off the bed. Killer felt the weighty presence of Kid's gaze on him as he lit the large lantern. Once illuminated, he could finally clearly see Kid's face. His cheeks were red enough that not even the lantern's orange hue could camouflage them.
This time, after sitting back down on the bed, Killer kissed Kid. The kiss was slower, sensual. When Kid slightly groaned, the sound went straight to his dick. Killer wanted to hear a whole lot more of that.
An idea popped into Killer's mind. He pulled back to say, “Let me suck your dick.” He grinned.
“Fuck. If you say so.” The redhead already sounded out of breath.
Killer slinked down to the floor. He squatted, balancing himself on his pointy shoes, and gripped Kid's thighs.
Kid looked even bigger than he already was from this angle. The man placed a hand on Killer's head. He swiped his bangs out of his eyes.
“What a beautiful face…” he murmured.
Killer immediately felt warm. As someone conscious of his appearance, hearing that was a bit flustering.
For a moment, he felt small beneath Kid.
Killer removed Kid's belts. Soon, his pants and boxers were off too after a conjoined effort.
Killer didn't have to wonder how Kid felt. He stared at the man's fully hard dick.
“Only gonna stare?” Kid asked with a cocky lilt.
Frankly, Killer would've loved to take a moment to stare at the display in front of him: huge thighs, toned legs, veiny dick.
But Killer didn't reply. Instead, he wrapped his hand around the base of Kid's dick. He didn't hesitate before filling his mouth with the other man. Killer's eyes fluttered.
Kid's dick is in my mouth.
He ran his other hand along the skin above Kid's knee. He took Kid as deep as he could go before slowly lifting his head back up. Killer swirled his tongue around the tip, tasting the heady and slightly salty skin.
“Mmgh.” Kid's hand tightly gripped blond hair.
Killer didn't mind the pain. Rather, the hair-pulling, mouth stuffed with Kid's cock, being between his thick thighs, the obscene noises his mouth made and Kid's priceless noises— was all intoxicating.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
“Fuck. Killer.” Kid bucked his hips up.
Killer could tell he was holding back.
Suddenly, Kid pushed Killer back. With laboured breaths, he said, “Not yet.”
Killer didn't know whether to feel disappointed or eager. He wanted to touch his captain even more, wanted to push and pull him this way and that— to consume him.
But this was Kid. It was likely the haughty and egotistical man wouldn't let him fuck him.
Kid had no choice but to push Killer away. With a skilled mouth like that— it was a wonder that he hadn't already came.
The sight of Killer peering up at him through his golden locks whilst gripping his thighs was already too much for him.
Normally, at this point, Kid would want to fuck the other person. Yet, currently, his head was only full of one thought: to let his partner continue having his way. He suddenly recalled when he came to the thought of Killer fucking him, when he masturbated to him in the shower.
Shit.
Killer was probably expecting him to take the initiative now and prepare him. Kid was ashamed to recognize his desire to be dominated by Killer.
Maybe because he fully trusted him. Kid knew Killer would never look down upon him or go around saying Kid was some cock-slut.
Killer wiped the saliva from his lips. His lipstick was incredibly smudged. He laughed.
Kid tried to gauge Killer’s feelings, but to no avail. Fuck it. Kid had already taken a great leap by even initiating this. To hell was he going to ask Killer to fuck him. But… he probably wouldn’t say no…
Kid’s eyebrows furrowed together in frustration.
“What’s wrong?” Killer stood up.
Kid raised his eyes to the man now looming over him. “Nothing.”
“Alright.”
His eyes flickered down. Killer’s erection was hard not to look at, especially with those tight jeans.
“Hey, Kid.” Killer gently cupped his cheek.
“Yeah?”
“I wanna fuck you.”
Kid’s lips parted. What the hell? “Straightforward, huh?” He swallowed back the saliva in his mouth.
Killer waited for a response.
“You’re really saying that to me? Do I seem like someone who’d want to get fucked?”
Killer shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter what someone seems like they’d want in the bedroom. Doesn’t make anyone lesser for having preferences.”
Kid scowled. Of course, Killer saw right through him and knew exactly what to say. After a moment, he said, “Sure… Killer. I trust you.”
Killer’s smile was worth his wounded pride.
“But next time, I’m doing you.” Yes, Kid expected a “next time” indeed.
“Fine by me.” Killer emphasized his point with a quick kiss.
Kid instructed Killer to take off his clothes as well— or at least half of them. He watched with hungry eyes as Killer slipped off his shoes and shimmied out of his signature jeans. The subtle hair on his legs were visible thanks to the soft glow of the lantern.
Killer stood tall in all his glory. His long hair cascaded down his back, peeking out from the sides. And Kid was sure it wasn’t his wishful thinking that he swore he could’ve seen Killer’s pink-ish cheeks. Shit, he was cute as hell.
“Take your shirt off, too.”
Killer obliged and unfastened the blue scarf wrapped around his hips as well. But Kid’s eyes were focused on the very erect cock below his hips.
If a perfect body existed, then the one in front of him surely fit the bill.
“Like what you see?” Killer broke the silence between them.
“Cocky bastard,” Kid huffed. “Not too bad.” Kid smiled then said, “Can’t say I’ve seen better.”
Killer’s eyes widened. The man leaned over Kid to take off his remaining clothes. Once the two were fully naked, Killer said, “Lie down.”
Kid did as he was told, not without suppressing the tiny voice in his head pointing out how docile he was being. He watched Killer pick up the vial of oil. The bottle really had been a huge help this past week.
“Turn around?”
Kid contemplated the proposal. Having his ass up and face down wasn’t exactly his style, but he supposed it was better than having to face Killer as he fingered him. “Alright,” he gruffly said. Kid sure as hell hoped Killer was fully enjoying this side of him.
Kid lay his head down on the motel’s fluffy pillow. The moment of friction between his dick and the bedsheets further tantalized him. Kid flinched when he felt drops of oil spill down his ass. Good thing he (finally) showered yesterday, Kid vaguely thought.
Killer caressed Kid’s round ass cheeks. His hands slowly kneaded the flesh. Kid was grateful the other man couldn’t see his face. He knew his face was on fire. Soon, he felt a finger gently prod at his asshole.
Upon tensing, Killer said, “Relax.”
Kid grunted. He was trying, goddamnit! But when the finger slipped in, Kid couldn’t help but clench around it. It just felt so weird. The finger pressed in deeper. Kid took a breath and relaxed his body. His back slightly arched as he let the muscles in his back and butt go lax.
“Good,” Killer quietly praised.
Kid gripped the sheet in his hand. A wave of embarrassment washed through him. However, the tide of lust within him was raging even harder. Killer’s finger slowly stroked his insides. He moved his finger forward and backward. So far, Kid didn’t feel anything except discomfort. Kid’s eyebrows pressed closer together— then his eyes widened.
A spike of pleasure suddenly tingled through his body. Kid tensed. He didn’t have a moment to recollect himself. Killer massaged the same pleasurable spot with his finger. Kid bit his lip.
He felt a large hand pressing down on his upper back as the finger in his ass relentlessly moved in a “come-hither” hand motion. Kid gasped. He clenched around Killer’s finger.
It felt good.
“Shit…” Kid exhaled before a tiny moan slipped out of him.
“Feel good, Kid?” Killer’s voice was close to his ear. Long hair tickled his back, and hot breaths fanned his ear.
“Yeah. It’s… good.”
Killer slowly pushed in another finger. Kid tried to remain lax to lessen the pain. He couldn’t help the muffled sounds that tumbled out of him. The pain mixed with pleasure was beginning to become too much for him. This was far different than the pleasure derived from his dick. This was hot, deep, and mind-numbing.
Killer alternated his fingers in a scissoring motion, then he withdrew them. Kid inhaled a deep breath and turned around.
Killer stared at Kid’s face as if it were some treasure chest— unable to look away. Kid resisted the urge to cover his face.
“Come on.” Kid eyed the blond’s cock.
“‘Come on,’ what?” Killer cocked his head.
“...”
“Curse you, Killer.”
He laughed before saying, “I had to.”
Kid waited for his partner to finally fuck him, but he remained put on his knees. His neutral expression betrayed the evil behind that face. “Fine.” Kid tried to act unashamed. “Come on and fuck me, Killer.” Maybe the “fake it ‘till you make it” act worked a little too well because Kid did not mean to say it that loudly and… passionately.
Killer grinned. He looked like he was about to tear into a formidable enemy, or a predator eyeing their prey.
Kid’s dick twitched as he watched Killer slick up his dick with oil. The sight of Killer kneeling above him and stroking his cock was almost enough to make him start jerking his own dick. Shoving a bit more oil into Kid’s hole, Killer finally positioned his dick before him.
He spread his knees so Killer could come even closer. Kid threw his head back into the pillow. This was it. He was about to have sex with his bestfriend. Kid had no regrets; he was full of nothing but desire. Maybe the thought of spreading his knees open, anticipating a cock entering him, would’ve been embarrassing, but now, Kid wanted nothing more than that. If Killer’s fingers felt that good, how good would his dick make him feel?
Killer pushed in excruciatingly slowly. Thankfully so, because the pain had Kid cringing.
“Okay?” Killer asked once he was completely inside.
Kid’s chest rose and fell as he adjusted to the thick appendage. “Yeah, you can move now.”
The captain had had his arm covering his face. Now that the worst of it was over, he removed his arm. Kid glanced down. The sight of Killer balls-deep inside was surreal. Kid almost let out a groan. His eyes remained glued to the sight as Killer slowly moved back out and then back in.
At first, it felt like the beginning of Killer fingering him: like he needed to take a shit. But after a few minutes, that familiar pleasure hit him. Kid quietly groaned.
Upon hearing Kid, Killer picked up the pace and attacked his prostate.
“Fuck…” Kid drawled out.
Killer grabbed his thigh with one hand and his dick with the other. Kid peered at Killer’s face. The man’s eyebrows were furrowed together and sweat trickled down his forehead. “You feel so good, Kid.”
Kid couldn’t even say anything. The pleasure from Killer’s hand pumping his dick and him roughly ramming into him was too much. He wasn’t going to last another minute at this rate. He heard Killer groan and knew he wasn’t doing much differently.
Kid’s moans spilled out nonstop. He didn’t care about anything right now besides Killer fucking the absolute shit out of him.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum—” was all the warning Kid got before Killer suddenly came inside him.
After a few seconds of Killer somehow fucking him even deeper, Kid also came. He squeezed his eyes shut and arched his back. “Killer,” he loudly moaned. And for probably the best seconds of his life— Kid moaned like he never would’ve guessed he was even capable of.
Kid closed his eyes. His orgasm was so intense that he was left immobile. Killer pulled out of him. The empty sensation of his ass felt odd. Kid opened his eyes and met Killer’s gaze.
“Good massage…?” the blond asked.
Kid loudly laughed. “Stop pulling my leg, Killer! You bastard, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
The smile Killer gave Kid was as captivating as his dick.
Kid didn’t even care about the cum dribbling out of his ass. He suddenly just wanted to sleep. However, it seemed Killer had other plans.
“Should we clean up tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Let’s just go to sleep for now.”
Kid wiped the cum off his stomach with his discarded shirt.
“Kid, before you fall asleep…”
“Hm?”
Killer didn’t say anything else, so Kid’s brain shook off the encroaching sleep. He racked his mind before realizing what Killer wanted to talk about. “You wanna ask what this means for us?”
“Yes.” Killer stayed sitting on the bed with one leg on the ground.
He looked effortlessly attractive if Kid was being transparent.
Kid thought about it. Having sex was one thing. That didn’t really mean anything, at least to Kid. But he was extremely close with Killer. And when two very close people also have sex… it was almost like they were—
“Partners.”
Killer cocked his head.
“We’re partners. We’ve been partners ever since we set out to sea together, in the sense of captain and vice-captain. But, uh.” Kid looked away.
How was he supposed to say this? The Eustass Captain Kid, who did all his talking with his fists— how was he supposed to express his feelings?
The three, way-too-sappy words, “I love you,” crossed his mind. That was a given though, of course they loved each other. Everyone in his crew “loved” each other. Kid mentally groaned.
“But?”
“But now,” before Kid could continue, he was hit with doubt. Does Killer even like him, in a way that was more… romantic? Than the rest of their friends.
Was that the right word? It felt too sappy and sentimental. But if someone who was there for you at your lowest, someone who was a person you trust above all else, someone you found hot as hell, and someone you would risk your dream of finding the “One Piece” for to make sure they’re okay— if that’s someone who you’re in love with. Then so be it.
“Killer,” his face reddened, “we’re partners and—”
“Boyfriends.”
Kid blinked.
“Is that the word you’re trying to say?”
Boyfriends… “Huh. boyfriends… I guess that’s it. But I don’t like that term. Sounds stupid. We’re partners, partners, partners.”
“A couple?” Killer helpfully supplied.
“Exactly.”
Killer hummed. “My partner… Nothing much will really change between us, huh?”
Kid chuckled. “Literally.”
Killer blew out the lights and then returned to sleep beside Kid.
Killer lightly cleared his throat. “Hey, Kid.”
“Hm?” Kid relaxedly urged to continue.
“I love you.”
Kid instantly grew hot. What the hell? “Don’t get all sappy on me?!”
Killer laughed.
After a few seconds, Kid replied, “I love you too, I guess…”
Killer quietly laughed. He threw his arm over Kid, and the two went to sleep.