A/N: Hey, it's been given to me that this story takes on some similarities to a story called, "East Blue Killer," by straycat13ct in Ao3. I just have to say that I have never read that story before until now. (I had to see for myself to compare stories). This story was purely sparked by reading too much Robin fanfics (as some of you may notice upon reading). I respect straycat13ct as an author, and apologize if this story hits too close to home, but hopefully, the progression of the story would prove that this story will head to a different direction.
I took this story down at first thinking that I had to change some things since I didn't want to be accused of copying someone else's work, but reposted again in hopes that the story can hold as its own. This will be a multichapter fic, and the future chapters will provide some more meat and content of something else entirely.
Thank you all for those that have taken the time to read this, and have a good day!
It was 3 A.M. and Kid didn't know how things had turned out this way. He was pinned down on a table at an empty bar with his hands bound above his head to a wooden post. The metal was chaffing his wrists raw, but the most annoying thing about the situation was that he had been caught by his own handcuffs. He didn't even realize when they had been slipped out from his back pockets, but so far, that had been the pattern of the night. He was always a step behind. The criminal that he had been chasing for weeks now was always ahead of his every move. Looking back, the leads that he had thought were getting him closer to the truth had been just bait all along. The evidence he had uncovered weren't left behind by mistake; they were left on purpose for him to find. The car, the note – hell, all those people he had talked to. His witnesses.
Were they all lying to him?
The taste of copper touched his tongue as he gritted his teeth. His eyes hardened in contempt at the person straddling him, one leg kneeling between Kid's legs and the other at the side of his left thigh.
He couldn't see their face clearly due to the dim lighting of the place, but the sharp grey eyes were bright among the shadows. The intelligent gaze matched his anger with intense appraisal as they narrowed. The pressure that had been keeping Kid tense for the past few minutes grew when the gun pointed at his cock pressed harshly. The metal nudged between his legs coldly, and he hissed in a breath.
Fuck, if this were any other situation, it could have actually been sexy. Why did all the hot ones have to be homicidal psychos?
The man known as the "Death Surgeon" leaned in close to his ear, a hot puff of breath tickling his neck as he spoke. And damn if that didn't raise the hairs on him.
"I know you've been following me," the deep, sensual voice held no uncertainty about that fact. Kid didn't either. If Kid had been duped, as he had suspected he had, then there were probably an abundant amount of pictures and records of him tailing the man around.
The thought of him being so obviously played refueled his anger all over again making him scowl, and the reaction received an amused chuckle. The demented doctor eased up slightly above him.
"Well here I am, officer. Am I right where you want me? Because you're right where I want."
Kid squirmed in his uncomfortable position due to the pain in his back from where he had been stabbed, but it could also be from the gleam in the grey eyes. They weren't any less threatening, but there was a new hooded smokiness in them that sparked and bordered on snide teasing.
Yup, Kid mentally affirmed. If the man wasn't such a psycho, they could've had some real fun times with that playful mouth.
"You know, Doc," he started, his tongue darting out to catch the blood on his cut lip. "When you told me you'd be taking me back to your place for something fun, I wasn't expecting this. To be honest, the whole blindfolding and gagging me in the back of the car was a huge turn on, but it should've been a sign. Should've known you were gonna be like this. Then again, I already knew you were a bit of a sadist."
The man only hummed mirthfully.
"Oh, I'm sure you knew."
"Tying 'em up, laying 'em on a table," Kid was recounting the files he had reviewed back at the station.
The Death Surgeon's signature and MO very unique. All the bodies that had been found were all fully dressed as if they hadn't been touched, but underneath were all the markings of a full autopsy. The y-incision across their chests were expertly closed, the stitches clean and mechanical. Whoever had closed the bodies up clearly had practice, although their motive for killing was unknown. No one could piece together what the Surgeon wanted to achieve. All the bodies that the police were able to identify had matched with fingerprints or dental records of other criminals, but such vigilante actions didn't excuse him from the fact that he committed a crime. Multiple crimes.
The man was sick, twisted – the furthest from being a saint.
For God's sake, it had been concluded that the victims were alive during their autopsies. Based on forensics, there was evidence that sometimes, the good doctor didn't even bother to sedate his victims and kept them awake. The asshole probably got off on inflicting pain and seeing his victims struggle.
Kid wanted to catch the bastard so bad, but the Surgeon had always been careful. There were never any fingerprints on the bodies or foreign DNA samples that matched government records. Neither were there any blood stains, rips on the clothes, anything that would point to a certain location – nothing. The murders were always so clean. The man was untouchable and had no face until now.
Now, Kid was staring the homicidal psycho in the face, and he was – he was…
Kid's attention pulled downwards as a hand slipped onto his chest. He watched as the buttons on his shirt were being slowly undone, and how a thin, gloved hand was sliding against his skin right under his collarbones. His muscles tensed. At this point, Kid knew he was screwed. He was going to die. He had hoped that if was going to be killed in action, it would at least be in his uniform. Instead, he was wearing this sleazy suit that he put on in order to blend in with the grimy crowd that occupied this side of the city. All the good it seemed to help him though. He was supposed to follow the Death Surgeon to his hideout and catch him in the act while undercover tonight, but his disguise hadn't been needed from the start. The Doc knew of him already.
Kid could only try to keep still as the hand on his chest traveled downwards to his stomach, his body involuntarily sucking in a breath.
Thoughts of his impending torture and mutilation infiltrated his mind. Part of him was relieved that he had gone on this mission solo. He wouldn't have been able to forgive himself if he had dragged Killer with him so that not only would he have inadvertently killed his friend, his partner, two police officers would be dying tonight instead of one. At least, since it was just him, only one person would be suffering his mistake.
Kid closed his eyes when a tongue licked under his jaw, and a soft mouth started nipping at his ear.
"Yes," the man breathed. "I usually go for the straps and leather, but the handcuffs work well enough. Sadly, we have to forgo the operating table, but I can make exceptions. It's not every night that I get a police officer falling into my lap, now do I? One that's so attracted to danger that he'd take the trip all the way down to Crime Alley."
The wandering hand, the one that wasn't holding the gun, brushed along Kid's side. To say it wasn't distracting would be a lie. The fingers kept moving lower and lower while the man's lips sucked along the line of his jaw from where he had been slugged. A bruise was already forming near his chin, but would it be wrong to think that the man was kissing it better? Those lips were doing something right, and the man didn't waste any time or talent when the soft lips met Kid's own. A moist tongue licked his bottom lip taking extra care at the place where it was split before the Doc stuck his tongue down Kid's throat. A small moan escaped between them, but it was difficult to tell from whom it came from.
Kid started to feel dizzy. His mind skipped to wondering if he had been drugged. Shit. But when did that happen?
Between the fondling and rustling they did before he got tossed in the car, the man had many chances to stick a needle in him. Heck, with the Surgeon's unpredictability, the drug could have come through skin contact or something.
He furrowed his brows deciding not to dwell on how he got slipped something under his nose. Instead, he tried clearing his mind by focusing on the sensations coursing through his body as he tried to figure out how to escape. He guessed he could consider himself lucky if the surgeon intended to put him to sleep first before he did any slicing. Although, as courteous as that may be, he needed to cling on to the idea that he'd make it out of this alive. There were so many reasons for why he needed to live to the next day.
For one, if he was successful, he'd still be alive. Two, he could go after the Surgeon bastard again, but with back up and greater precaution than what he had taken in his first attempt.
For six years, the face of the Death Surgeon hadn't been known, but due to this, he's seen it. He has evidence now, and he would be able to recognize the man's face if they were to go after him again; he was sure of it. This maniac could finally be captured, and he had the means to put him behind bars.
Kid felt the man's hand pop open the bottom of his trousers and pull the zipper. He let out a warning growl when the hand cupped his cock and started kneading it. The Doc ignored his protest and instead distracted him by pulling his hair with the hand that held the gun. Rough fingers pulled harshly at his scalp forcing his head to bend back and expose the column of his neck. The surgeon was probably aware that he was holding the firearm too close to Kid's chained hands and kept it warily out of reach in case Kid tried anything.
Meanwhile, the Doc's other hand stopped playing and pulled down on Kid's pants and underwear as much as their positions allowed so he could have free reign to the hardness underneath. The cold air touched the hidden skin, but the man's warm hand quickly wrapped around his length.
Shamelessly, Kid let out a whimper. He couldn't control his voice, but he was conscious enough to hear his quiet moans and feel dirty. The blood in his veins was starting to get hot, and he was in this odd state of feeling hazy and euphoric. Maybe the hand touching him was just that good, or maybe he just liked the tongue sliding inside his mouth. The hand grabbing his hair bunched a patch of his redden locks and tugged. Kid's eyes rolled back.
He was feeling too much. Hands, mouth, hands – Kid's escape plan was moot as every single movement of the Death Surgeon took over his brain.
Like the cruel man he was, the Surgeon moved agonizingly slow. The pad of a thumb rubbed languid circles at the tip of his cock and exerted just the right amount of pressure to elicit pleasure.
Kid let out a guttural groan, his breathing getting deeper, as the hand continued its ministrations. The hand wasn't doing nearly enough, and he needed more. Kid's hips bucked upwards in need earning him an unsparing laugh.
The sound was harmonious and dark. It irked him how satisfied it came out, and Kid almost bit down on the man's tongue to stop it.
"Take off the fucking leather," he let out, his demand sounding too throaty and desperate for his sanity.
If the guy was going to give him a hand job, the least he could do was do it properly. The feel of the glove against his skin felt too thick, and he was burning to just feel some skin on skin contact. He was starting to see white from how aroused he was, but of course, the guy had to be a dick.
Kid growled again when the hand on his cock left. The man on top of him looked down at his prone and exposed state, a wide smile casted on his face. Kid was so hard and he was damned if the bastard wasn't going to do anything about it.
Making sure to grind on his thighs, the man slid off of the table and away from Kid. He stood next to the table straightening out the white suit he wore as Kid just stared hot and bothered.
"We should do this again sometime."
Once the words left the Doc's mouth, Kid felt indignant. Whose fault was it that they were in the positions they were in now? And was the man going to –
"But I have to leave."
The fucker! He was going to leave him like this?!
The sound of police cars sounded in the far distance, and heavy steps followed the distinctive slams of car doors. Kid's heart started beating loudly for a different reason than it did seconds ago as a realization suddenly hit him. He struggled on the table and pulled desperately on the handcuffs so he could strangle the man next to him, but to no avail. The Death Surgeon cast him a nonchalant glance before setting the gun on the floor and walking away.
"Your friends have come to ruin our fun. Such a disappointment, I know," the man stated airily. "But don't worry. We'll meet again, Officer Kid. I know everything about you – where you live, where you often for lunch, and even your friends' names and homes. You need not worry. We'll come again to each other soon."
"Hey!" Kid called out.
He floundered on the table and twisted so he could see the surgeon leave. The man had reached the door next to the bartender's table, and it seemed that he did pause to Kid's call. The drumming was at Kid's ears now, the beat loud, as he waited for the surgeon to face him again. He was half expecting the man to keep on walking and was mildly surprised when the Doc slowly twisted his head to the side.
The suave white suit clung the man's lithe frame as if suits were specifically made for the man to wear, and the sight didn't go unnoticed by Kid's wondering gaze. Grey eyes pierced at him, but they soon softened into something fond and amused.
"Unlike you, I take proper research about those that catch my eye. And you, Eustass, have caught my eye."
Those were the last words before the surgeon disappeared into the connecting hallway, probably making his escape. The entrance door to the bar then burst open, bright light infiltrating the dark room where the 3rd squad of the city's police force found a one Officer Eustass Kid handcuffed to a post with his pants down and half naked as if he'd been left unsatisfied, undignified, and barely violated.