Well, I wrote this for tumblr opscifyandfiction event, I tried to make it a One-shot, but I'm stupid and now it has three chapters (not two as it should be logical, but three for god's sake). I almost killed my poor beta. Any way, I will be publishing a chapter a day till the event finish and as always the characters aren't mine and any resemblance to reality is purely coincidental.
Thanks a lot to Itavita for correcting the chapter, really, I owe you a box of chocolates and a huge hug.
Hope all you like it n_n
The first time Kidd saw him, he had only been ten years old.
His friend Killer, after much insisting, had convinced the red-haired boy to go with him to one of the illegal skateboard races scheduled to run that night in the outskirts of the city. Kidd had had nothing better to do that afternoon and had grown tired of the blond boy's persistent nagging, so he reluctantly accompanied his friend to one of their city's famous underground competitions.
That had been the first race Kidd had ever seen.
As always, it had took place in one of the most derelict areas of the city known as the "Z Area" where the lowest dredges of society lived. There, the fluorescent lights had a more subdued luster after years of overuse, and the old, worn businesses hadn't fared much better - the once polished metal siding of the office buildings and other seedier establishments, had begun to rust after years of neglect. Every wall was covered with graffiti of wild colors and offensive language with messages meant to incite anger among those passing by on the street. Oxidized pipelines appeared like snakes crisscrossing around buildings, funneling clean air and energy to the city center.
Orphans lined the streets, darting swiftly past the vagabonds who resided among trash-filled alleys and sidewalks. From the mafia gangs arranging fights along the dark and dirty streets, to the drug and sex traffickers selling their bodies and the new synthetic drug of the moment, every habit could be fed in Z Area. It was like a hidden world beneath the city, a world that ordinary people knew absolutely nothing about or chose to ignore out of convenience. It paled heavily in comparison to the elegance of the new, opulent structures that had been built in the very center of the city, where the rich and powerful lived and worked.
That wasteland had been the world Kidd was born into and the only one he knew. He had never seen a sky that wasn't filled with dust and a blanket of pollution, nor had he ever felt fresh air against his skin or sipped water that didn't taste like metal on his tongue. To Kidd, those kinds of luxuries only existed in movies. He didn't mind, though. Kidd loved that world for what others couldn't appreciate – the freedom it held. No one told him what to do or where to go, and his survival lay solely in his own abilities and knowledge of life on the streets.
He was simply free.
That dark night, some years ago, Kidd and Killer had made their way through the streets and muscled his way to the front of the crowd until they had a front row seat to the event. Everyone had been cluttered around a road that stretched along the outskirts of the Z20 Area, the road where that night the race was held. It had been cleared by force, the large crowd that had gathered had pushed all normal people or citizens out of the area, leaving the central street free of cars for the race. Kidd noticed that many of the races fans had, colorful hairs, illegal tattoos and robotic prosthetics- things that would've been considered shocking in any other part of the city but were merely another part of life here.
The streets had been packed with people, and it seemed like every citizen of the zone had gone to see the show. The energy from the crowd had been palpable, and Kidd had smiled despite his initial hesitance. The red-haired boy however hadn't known what to make of the number of spectators who had been milling around the streets. Was this normal for just a little race?
At first glance, a skateboard race in the middle of the night in such a poor zone seemed neither exciting nor fun, but that was the secret behind it. The seemingly tame nature of the races was why police was never alerted of this illegal business. However the truth was very different from appearances. Every night, the entire circuit would be the showcase for bloody injuries due to the tricks and feints of the competitors and, if those didn't earn the racer enough of an advantage, they would quickly turn it into a hideous fight with just kicks and hard was survival of the fittest with no laws or rules, and whoever arrived at the finish line first, took the prize and prestige. Those fights had soon became legendary due to their brutality, even men who had spent their entire lives training in hand-to-hand combat weren't guaranteed to come out alive from them, and once they begun, it quickly became an attraction, more excitement to the carnage. It was no wonder the races had become a primary form of entertainment among the scum of the city.
Furthermore, race participants were allowed to use energy.
Kidd had never seen anyone use it – in fact, energy was thought by most to be an old urban legend passed along by the few surviving populations left on the planet. The elder's spoke of people with the ability to use unnatural forces and move at incredible speeds, and told of how it was people with power who had managed to win the third Great War. The legend claimed that the entire human population had descended from these mythical beings, while some went so far as to say that every human being had this ability and could potentially harness it for their own use.
Kidd hadn't believed such stories, and he had often scoffed at Killer's accounts of people flying through the air and destroying buildings with nothing but their fists. While he had always been curious about the races and the supposed use of energy, Kidd had instead chosen to stay away. He didn't want to destroy the wonder and appeal of such myths by seeing the sad reality with his own eyes. What appeared to be the magic and power of legends was most likely nothing but tricks and half-truths.
Or at least he had thought that, up until that distant fateful night of his childhood.
The crowd that had been situated behind him had begun shouting the names of the competitors before the race had even started. The gathered spectators had dyed their hair with bright, flashy colors – a show of pride in their heroes – while others wore masks, held up flags or signs, and displayed holograms above them that contained names and symbols that Kidd didn't understand but figured out to be of importance.
It appeared that Killer had brought him to a particularly significant race that night, since his blond-haired friend felt necessary to mention that this type of crowd was out of character for a normal competition. Not only did the people standing shoulder to shoulder pushed at Kidd from time to time, but there were also small groups of children and teenagers who had raised themselfs in an attempt to get a better view. Faces glanced out of second and third story windows, and Kidd could even see little specks of people lined along the iron bridge that worked also as the goal of the race.
Kidd had grunted when he felt an elbow in his side and had turned to Killer with a glare. His friend ignored him and instead, pointed at five individuals standing near the spray painted white line. Kidd looked at them, the racers, he realized.
Cries and cheers filled the air while people waved their colorful flags in the hopes of drawing the attention of their heroes. Jeering could also be heard, insults directed toward the competition. Bets were made, enemies declared, and hopes were placed on the shoulders of the most well-known citizens of the underground.
With excitement in his eyes, Killer had pointed to each racer in turn and filled Kidd in on all the details.
The first participant, a man in his thirties with red hair, a maroon skateboard, and a bright smile was Shanks, the Red King. He seemed like a decent person, all things considered. He greeted the crowd good-naturedly, waving and grinning like a loon. His demeanor hadn't fit the race at all, and clearly it set him apart from the rest of the races with that murdering assassin look.
Beside him stood a blond man with a bored and indifferent expression - Marco, the Yellow King. Marco had been leaning heavily on his bright-yellow skateboard, his half-lidded eyes making it appear as though he would fall asleep at any moment. Kidd noticed that Marco's eyes were fixed on the crowd, and followed his line of sight to a young freckled man cheering far too loudly amongst the rest of the spectators.
Kidd was pulled from his observation by Killer, who had begun explaining Marco's current position in the races. Apparently, the Yellow King had defeated a man named Doflamingo, known as the Golden King, a few years ago. Doflamingo had owned the title of King for twenty solid years, something which he had "earned" through less than honorable means. He had been another legend of the underground, from what Kidd had deciphered.
The next racer was a young boy named Zoro, known in the racing world as the Green King. He was smaller than Kidd, who, despite his protests and attempts to grandstand, had still been just a child. The Green King had a hard stare and bizarrely green hair, and despite his age, he had looked much more mature than any of the other contenders. Zoro had fixed his eyes on the road in front of him with a scowl, completely absorbed in his concentration.
The fourth big name racer was Arlong, the Blue King. From what Kidd could gather from the crowd's lack of enthusiasm toward the king, Arlong was the competitor that everyone hated – a man known for his brutality and blood thirsty ways on the track. Killer said that Arlong had acquired his title with dirty tricks and harsh methods, something Kidd had thought would earn the man respect from the crowd through entertainment value alone, but supposedly his tricks were so underhanded they were too much even by Z Area standards. While Kidd hadn't heard any cheers for Arlong, the man hadn't seemed the least bit perturbed by the cold reception, on the contrary, he had a look of pride and arrogance on his face.
The four men were the race kings, each of whom represented one of the four energies: Fire, Air, Earth and Water. While the titles remained the same, the kings who held it varied wildly over the years. When a king lost their strength and power, they would inevitably pass on the title to other racers. A lot of them trained for months or even years in an attempt to out-skate the current Kings, their lust for the honor and the fame that accompanied the title of King outweighing their own sense of self-preservation. Unfortunately, races against kings didn't occur often. Defeating a king was thought to be virtually impossible, and most people weren't stupid or suicidal enough to make the attempt.
That was why the race that night had brought almost the entire zone to the streets. A new racer had stepped forward and challenged all four of the current kings. At the same time.
The fifth figure who had stood in the road was another young boy, someone Kidd had imagined couldn't be much older than himself. The most noticeable aspect of the boy was that, instead of wearing bright, flashy colors to announce his energy as the other Kings, the boy had dressed completely in black.
The hoodie he wore hid his face in shadow, but, unknown to everyone present, he had also worn a mask under the heavy cloth - the white plastic shaped into the frozen smile of a demon. The board he held to his side was jet black and decorated with sinister looking skulls. His baggy knee-length shorts were covered in thick chains and a strange yellow emblem stamped on the dark material that almost looked like a virus. The boy's outfit was completed by his white-striped black leather shoes that blurred with each quick and impatient move of the young man's feet.
Kidd trembled just with the mere sight of him. The boy had looked like death itself.
However, the rest of the crowd seemed oblivious to the boy's dangerous aura, and had openly mocked the boy with jeers and condolences after challenging the four Kings. Kidd simply stood and watched the other, fascinated and grudgingly impressed by his calm and anxious attitude he showed despite the situation he was in.
It was then, when Kidd had been unable to look away from the figure in black, that the alarm sounded to initiate the race. At the sound, the five participants had moved to line fluorescent white line painted on the asphalt. The crowd behind Kidd seemed to hold its breath and, much as he tried to avoid it, Kidd had felt his own chest tighten with excitement. He had stared unwaveringly at the five people ready and willing to risk their lives and fight for their title of King.
The starting gunshot exploded in the air in a show of artificial lights. Loud and high. Shaking the ground beneath Kidd's feet with the screams of the crowd.
The four kings burst from their starting point, quick as lightning. Scorch marks left on the asphalt behind Shank's skateboard, while a gust of wind had risen behind Marco and blown into the crowd, rustling Kidd's hair. He had barely had time to take everything in before the first fight broke out. The crowd watched as Arlong lunged at Zoro and pushed him forward with a blast of vibrant blue energy. The younger boy fought not to lose his balance on his skateboard, his face grim but determined, as the two disappeared along with Shanks and Marco around the first street corner.
The four kings' progress was displayed on several holographic screens haphazardly hung above the spectators with improvised cables. The screens showed Marco raising into the air and picking up speed, as he shot passed Shanks running suicidal from side-to-side along the street dodging streetlights and laughing like a mad men.
But had Kidd ignored the amazing images on the screens, as well as the noise of the crowd rising around him. Time seemed to stop as Kidd couldn't take his eyes off the dark figure who stood frozen at the starting line.
Paralyzed.
People in the crowd quickly begun to notice the racer's apparent state of shock, and a cruel laughter started to ring through the air. They mocked the boy, some yelling for him to go home to his mother, while others shouted that he had lost and demanded that he got out of there. The boy stood silent against the barrage of hateful comments and continued to focus on the road before him, his gray and colorless eyes focused as the death itself on the four king ahead of him.
Finally, when an announcer's excited voice screamed that all four kings had reached the halfway mark of the race, with a bored Marco far in the lead, followed by Shanks who continued to show off for the crowd, and furious Arlong who had received a huge injury from Zoro, the boy in black mounted his skateboard, with that black smoke surrounding him. To Kidd, it almost looked as though the boy had purposely given the kings an advantage in the race, but the idea was so absurd, the Kings were so strong that he dismissed it immediately.
What happened next would stick with Kidd' mind for the rest of his life.
In his memory, he would remember the image of the darkly-clad boy kneeling and leaning over his board. He would remember the smell of burning asphalt and hear the squeak of wheels on the pavement as they had begun to gain speed. He would never forget how the boy suddenly relaxed his body, only to disappear entirely from sight.
The commentator had shrieked with surprise when the forgotten challenger had suddenly popped into existence on screen alongside the four kings. His body suspended upside-down in the air beside Marco, and the black haze from before completely surrounding him. The hoodie he wore had been blown back by the whipping winds, the white mask underneath clearly visible.
Kidd recalled how the spectators suddenly fell in silence when the boy with the macabre mask had begun to fight not just with one type of energy, but all four of them, simultaneously defeating every king with their own specialized powers in a scene that had never been witnessed. The silence had rung loudly among the crowd throughout the battle, and remained through the boy's sudden reappearance at the finish line after defeating all four kings in one fell swoop, and completing a course that would have normally taken seasoned skaters at least an hour, in mere minutes.
Even now, Kidd remembered the utter silence that had fallen over the crowd as the boy walked to the table next to the finish line and grabbed the heavy trophy that had been displayed on a glass stand. Then, without saying a word, he had disappeared in a burst of black smoke.
That was the night the legend of the Black King had arose. The fifth power. The King of Death.
That night when Kidd was just ten years old,he had decided that he would become a racer and defeat a living legend.
.
.
.
~ Thirteen years later ~
The redhead took a breath of night air and forced his muscles to relax. The crowd gathered around him was calling his name and encouraging him to destroy everything, excited for the upcoming race between two of the strongest kings. Kidd ignored them. Truthfully, he didn't understand their enthusiasm. This was the eighteenth time he had challenged the King of Death, his rival since the age of ten, so this couldn't be a new experience for these people. Still, the crowd chanted as they always did, and Kidd was barely able to focus his attention on the upcoming race and the board under his feet.
He had installed new software updates on his skateboard specifically for tonight's race. Unlike the one the Black King used - an old wooden board with dark plastic wheels - Kidd's was one of the latest models. The design belonged to the famous Doctor Vegapunk with those elegant and aerodynamic features that used magnetic force, to rise between the metal buildings of the city with ease. Kidd had built the board himself in his own repair shop, using one of the doctor's blueprints in order to save the money that costed to buy such an engineer artwork. It's not as though Kidd was poor – the redhead had been laboring for years in the small workshop to earn a living, with Killer there to help him with the software and the economy- it just that it couldn't hurt to save a bit of money, though. Just in case.
However, at the moment, just before the race, Kidd was worried. Despite his amazing board, despite the tecnology he had and the years he'd spent training and developing his impressive musculature, Kidd wasn't sure he could beat the other king.
The boy with gray eyes and a sinister mask had become his obsession since he had first laid eyes on him. Kidd had attended every one of the Black King's races under the initial teasing from Killer, and had taken the opportunity to study every one of the teenager's movements. The redhead had watched how the Black King moved between that black smoke, how he attacked with the five different energies, and the numerous tricks he used. He had seen the four kings challenging him again and again, but the boy kept winning despite everything the others tried.
It was because of this intense scrutiny that Kidd knew everything he needed to know about his rival.
While he had been watching the races and studying the other teen, Kidd had been training himself. At eleven he had discovered how to generate his own power with the help of Shanks – the Red King who had practically adopted him as his own son. Kidd now controlled the power of fire, red as his hair and as violent as his temper, and had learned how to use it to his had practiced using his energy until it required nothing more than a thought to bring it forth.
He built his first skateboard after months of frustration in the workshop and many suicidal tests on the practice course. He had painted it an intense scarlet to match his hair and energy, marked it with his own emblem and uploaded his own personal software to the system. After years of practice the small board had become an extension of his own body, allowing him to learn and perform the tricks of the street racers along with a few of his own.
Kidd had also trained his body vigorously during those years, pushing himself to the limits of exhaustion. Through his hard work and dedication, he had gained massive strength, quick reflexes, and a body that was envied by many. Only then had Kidd decided it was finally time to fucking compete and test out all that he had learned on the track. The people around him encouraged him to race and started talking about him.
At eighteen, he participated in his first race and challenged his first king. Shanks, who had become a sort of father to him, was overthrown in a predictable race. It was more like a king abdicating in favor of his son and successor, choosing to be defeated to make room for younger and stronger blood.
Kidd became the new Red King when he was still a teenager.
Afterward, he didn't have much free time to devote to improving his skills and challenging the Black King. Kidd had never thought about it before, but the title of king required too much time and effort. The power of the title attracted challengers from all over the city and Kidd was soon lost in races and fights, some of which didn't even involve skateboarding, just punching and kicking the fuck out of people in order to retain the title.
Killer had stood by him from day one, but soon Wire and Heat appeared by his side followed by slew of others who would quickly become his gang and family. His small workshop quickly became the base of their gang, with members lounging in the living room and the second floor hooked to the net and others having drinks while chatting about their latest adventures. There was always food in the fridge and a companion to visit, and in a strange way their group's dynamic began to reflect that of a small family.
However, despite his new duties and the chaos that always surrounded Kidd, he never forgot his ultimate goal. The Black King was still undefeated. The other kings had changed throughout the years, new riders rising up to take their places, but the man behind the mask, the one that was surrounded in mystery, still held his title.
A thing that Kidd was going to change today.
Moving nervously, the redhead looked to his right where the other king was also waiting for the signal to start the race with his hands shoved in his pockets in a relaxed pose. Several people in the crowd surrounding them were shouting for the Black King and waving flags with his symbol, though, as far as Kidd knew, the young man had no gang or friends to call his own.
The boy had grown over the years just like Kidd, and had even managed to gain a few centimeters over the redhead. Even so, the Black King didn't have the imposing musculature that Kidd had acquired through his training and his days spent at the workshop. The man was far from weak, however. Kidd had personally seen his hidden strength during their multiple battles, the blows he had received from the guy had been fucking strong.
Everything else about the man hadn't changed. He was still wearing the same disturbing all-black clothes that he had worn the first day Kidd had seen him, and he also wore another sinister mask. Kidd had noticed that he appeared to have a new one for every race. That day he wore a stark white mask with a teasing line painted for the mouth, and slits for breathing holes and eyes.
Those intense gray eyes that continued to leave Kidd breathless, no matter how many years had passed since he had first seen them.
Kidd sighed and prepared for the race. He had been training for weeks, perfecting his own style and inventing new tricks. This would be their last competition, and this time he was going to win. So when the warning bell rang to announce the upcoming start of the race, Kidd convinced himself that he wasn't nervous, that the look he was receiving from the dark haired boy didn't seemed to caress his body in all the wrong ways.
The crowd roared, loud as ever, leaving him virtually deaf and hindering his ability to concentrate. Kidd got on his skateboard and it rose into the air, the magnetic fields interacting with the metal buildings around him and the subway under his feet.
At his side, the King of Death also climbed onto his worn wooden board. However, despite the obvious disadvantage of an old skateboard, the man's movements emitted a sense of elegance and confidence. It was as if he didn't give a fuck about the board he rode because he knew he would win either way. Kidd rolled his eyes. Arrogant bastard. Adjusting his goggles over his eyes he impatiently shoved his hands in the pockets of his tight pants in a known gesture.
Both were ready.
The crowd gasped as the starting gun exploded in the black sky in a spectacle of colors. The street immediately filled with excited screams and blissful cries, however, shortly afterward, confused murmurs passed through the ranks of the crowd when they noticed that neither competitor had moved from the starting line.
They just stood there.
For his part Kidd merely started fidgeting on his skateboard, looking for a comfortable position while he heard the other man gave an incredulous chuckle. Kidd could have sworn that the dark haired figure was smiling beneath the mask. He frowned and hesitated between verbally insulting the arrogant king or simply giving him a close-up view of his middle finger. In the end he chose neither. No matter how much the tanned man laughed, Kidd wasn't going to move an inch until the raven boy also did so.
The king of Death always gave an advantage to his opponents, whoever they might be, as a form of ridiculing them even further: beating them despite giving them a lead of half the circuit or more; as if to prove that he was so superior over normal racers. The worst of it was that people had ended up accepting this habit of his over the years, trying to quickly run forward and extend their lead - as if gaining more distance between themselves and the Black King than his previous challengers was something to be proud of.
Kidd wasn't going to take that bullshit anymore. He didn't need the advantage and he was going to prove it. So, when the Black King sent him a funny, almost solemn look, and leaned on his skateboard just as Kidd wanted, the redhead smirked.
The first one to pass the starting line was the Black King, who instantly disappeared from his previous place, leaving nothing behind but that strange black smoke and the sound of screeching wheels. Kidd quickly called his energy and shifted his weight slightly on his board. In response to his demand, it shot forward like a bullet aimed at its target.
Everything else faded away until all that was left was the race.
The buildings and city lights passed by him in a swirl of colors flashing before his eyes. He was moving fast, far too fast to make it out alive if he were to fall, but Kidd treasured this feeling too much to worry about crashing to the ground. From the moment he had climbed onto a board and had begun to race, Kidd had known that he was going to become addicted to this. The wind in his face ruffling his hair as though it were a loving mother, the world at his feet moving in a quick jumble of deformed shapes, and the sensation of flying faster than a spaceship. With all the danger and freedoms that came with it.
Kidd couldn't get enough.
However, as much as he wanted to simply enjoy the moment, this wasn't the best time or place to do so. This was the moment when he would make the egocentric Black King, who he could see pulling further and further ahead of him, bite the dust. Kidd accelerated, pushing his board forward, until his surroundings disappeared and the forms around him ceased to make sense - until time and space seemed to distort. Kidd moved faster and faster, coming closer to the Black King who was racing at an amazing speed. When he finally came within a safe distance of the dark figure, Kidd wasted no time. Ignoring the mocking smile painted on the king's mask, he raised his fist and energy filled his hand as though it had been summoned from another world.
Kidd gathered more energy, feeling it run through his body like hot magma as it covered his fist in flames. The Red King knew that every energy user had a limit, but that limit depended heavily on the individual's stamina. Kidd had spent years perfecting his powers, and no matter how hard he pushed himself, he had never reached the boundaries of his abilities. The energy he controlled grew until the flames in his fist went from a red hue to a blinding white, displaying the power of the energy he had accumulated.
As Kidd continued to gather power, the two figures entered a tunnel. The Black King, anticipating Kidd's intentions, used his own powers to steer his board and climb the circular wall of the tunnel. His body moved along the wall until he was hanging upside-down in front of the Red King with his back to the other end of the tube. The dark haired man placed himself above Kidd and prepared his own attack, but the fire-user was ready.
The redhead moved quickly, not wanting to give the man an opportunity to act. Leaping from his skateboard with a blast of energy, Kidd rushed into the air and threw a hot punch to his opponent's face. The gray eyed boy easily stopped his punch with a hand covered in black smoke and then moved and attempted to kick Kidd and stamp him against the floor of the tunnel. The younger man dodged the attack just as he'd done in their previous fights, recoiled and then turned and was finally able to catch the man in the ribs with his knee.
They separated, Kidd falling back to the ground below as his board skid along the pavement, while the Black King was thrown several meters away and forced to descend back to the ground.
They continued through the tunnel until they burst out onto a bridge suspended several kilometers above the city.
Kidd smiled victoriously, almost maniacally. That had been the first blow he had managed to land on the other man after several races. This time he was going to do it, this time he would win. The excited redhead accelerated once more in an attempt to catch up with the dark figure ahead. He saw the other king looking up and shooting an angry glare at him while holding his ribs, his gray eyes looking pissed. A concrete wall suddenly rose between them, brought forth by bright green energy.
Kidd cursed, eyes widening in shock. He was going too fast to stop in time. Shit, this was what he got for being stupid and impatient. He should have known that the other would use one of his tricks.
The redhead quickly covered his body with blood red energy in an attempt to lessen the impact. Preparing himself for the inevitable. It worked partially. Upon impact, the wall crumbled and Kidd burst through it thanks to his speed and momentum. Unfortunately, smashing through a wall came with the added side-effect of forcing the air from his lungs. Kidd's vision to go black for a moment and he didn't see the other racer in front of him until it was too late.
Apparently, The Black King hadn't expected him to break through the wall either, and had no time to dodge the figure speeding toward him.
They collided.
Both were thrown from the road and fell to the city streets below. Kidd was still too stunned by the blow to make any attempts to save himself from a drop of several kilometers, and could do nothing as the Black King took advantage of his dazed state. The man grabbed Kidd and used the redhead's body to cushion his fall, though the Red King could have sworn that the other man was using his own energy to protect Kidd as well. The two were thrown helplessly through the air, finally coming to a halt as they smashed into the wall of an old half-finished building located in the area's central zone. The figures were soon lost in a cloud of smoke and the debris collapsing around them.
Kidd lay surrounded by rubble with his back against the stone-covered ground. He remained still as he tried to regain his breath and waited for the world to stop spinning. He ached all over and knew that the next morning he would have a full set of black bruises covering his pale body. Still, he wouldn't surrender. Despite plummeting from the race course and being buried under a collapsed building, he was determined to carry on. Kidd could no longer hear the roar of the crowd, and doubted that the event cameras were still following their progress. The redhead rose to his elbows, growling, and decided to return to the circuit to defeat the Black King. The other man had fallen with him, so he figured it was possible to take advantage of the situation and win the race.
Kidd blinked through the dust and darkness surrounding him while he waited for the blue lights to stop flashing behind his eyelids. Quickly realizing he had lost his goggles, he looked around to see if he could spot them, keeping a sharp eye out for the dark king as well. For all he knew, the man was waiting to spring an attack while he had the chance. It only took a few moments for his eyes to adjust in the dim light, and what he saw made Kidd's breath catch in his throat.
The Black King was looming over him, his hands on either side of Kidd's head and his knees striding the larger man's legs. He was leaning heavily on the redhead and their bodies were too close for Kidd's liking. He could practically feel the heat emanating from the older boy's body and smell that luscious scent of smoke and metal that clung to him.
Despite his unease, Kidd could do nothing but stare wide-eyed at the man's face above him. The Black King's signature mask had fallen off in the earlier struggle, finally revealing the face of his long-time rival.
The redhead's golden eyes devoured that face of tanned skin, and those calculating gray eyes with an amused expression directed toward him. The raven haired boy had elegant but strong features, a small goatee that gave him a dangerous air, and thin lips that were curved into an arrogant smirk. Golden piercings adorned his ears and his ruffled black hair was falling over his eyes in a strangely erotic way.
All Kidd could do was gawk. The man was quite attractive; completely his type. It was something Kidd had never expected and thus caused the derailment of all his planned schemes. For a moment his thoughts came to a halt as his golden eyes were fixed on that strong mouth and those kissable lips.
The other let out a mocking chuckle, appearing entertained at his reaction. Kidd frowned in response, returning to the real world as the moment was shattered. It didn't matter that the other was one of his best sexual fantasies, he was still the Black King - the one Kidd had sworn to take down and had spent years training in order to do so.
Plus the bastard had just used him as an airbag and drove him into a building.
Kidd opened his mouth, a scream of frustration building in his throat. He was going to push forward, plunge himself back into the race, and fucking put this man in his place. However, once again, his plans went to hell just to quickly for his liking. The second he opened his mouth, the metallic-shade of the Black King's eyes lit up in victory, and the next thing Kidd felt was the other's tempting lips against his own.
Kidd's mind once again went blank.
His body tensed and his eyes widened, the other quickly took advantage of his shock and sweep his tongue eagerly into Kidd's mouth. The raven haired man languidly licked the other's lips and moved his tongue to dance across Kidd's palate, the sensations causing the redhead's bones to melt in a cloud of heat. The older man's sharp teeth started to gently pull at his lower lip, urging him to respond in a way that Kidd hadn't realized he'd wanted for a long time. He suddenly found himself returning the kisses with the same desire and passion that the tanned boy was showing, a feeling of regret settling in his chest for having waited so long to taste the other man.
The dark haired boy gave a satisfied smile before kissing him again, shoving Kidd against the ground in a play for dominance. Kidd fought him with everything he had, not wishing to surrender to his enemy, no matter the situation. The redheaded then bit the elder's lips repeatedly in an attempt to force him to back down and allow Kidd the opportunity to explore that tempting mouth of his, but the Black King was onto him, and smoothly dodged his vicious teeth remaining in control of the kiss. Kidd was starting to get desperate to taste him, and his need only grew the longer the other played around.
The raven haired man was sucking on his tongue in the dirtiest possible way, biting his lips insistently and leaving them red and tender to the touch. The redheaded was slowly being conquered, the older boy licking every part of his mouth as if he couldn't get enough, making the younger boy start to shiver with pure pleasure, before finally giving in and submitting to the smaller man. Letting him do as he pleased.
The Black King growled his approval at Kidd's surrender, and further intensified the kiss, making it much more demanding and passionate, as if he were trying to devour him completely. Kidd shuddered helplessly under him and tried to respond with the same passion and intensity he was being shown, feeling his lungs scream louder for air with every minute that passed.
He gripped the taller racer's biceps through his black jacket in the hopes of catching his attention. Maybe then he'd notice Kidd's plight and give the redhead a moment to breathe. His efforts went unrewarded. Instead of lightening up, the dark figure ignored his plea and kissed him deeper, almost possessively. With the other's mouth wide-open against his and that tongue licking him in such a suggestive, sensual manner, Kidd couldn't help it and be started getting hard in his pants. He couldn't stand this anymore, he was going to suffocate if he didn't do something to end this.
Completely desperate and so unlike him, Kidd whimpered against the elder's mouth, silently begging for mercy. It was only after the sound left his lips that the dark King released him from the kiss.
The redhead panted, his lungs burning for air and his lips aching. His pulse was pounding in his ears and his face was red with embarrassment. Overall, his body felt like he'd just survived some kind of attack. His mind was oddly blank as he tried to make sense of the situation, his gaze falling on the other king who was looking at him intensely. Hungrily. The taller man's gray eyes were fixed on his face, as though he was trying to decide between devouring him in another kiss or making something even worst.
When Kidd's brain finally caught up with him, he frowned deeply and glared at the dark figure. This was absurd, it wasn't the time nor place for this kind of shit. Not that there was any time or place for this kind of thing, anyway. They were rivals, they shouldn't have ever found themselves in this position.
Just as he was about to yell and demand to know what the fuck was going on, the Black King leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead. The action shut Kidd up instantly. He could only watch, dumbstruck, as the taller man rose to his feet, offered him a nerve-wracking smirk and then stepped toward the ruined wall.
The dreamlike moment from before was shattered as the bluish light of the city returned to illuminate the macabre figure standing a few paces away. Kidd watched as the King of Death passed his hand over his face and brought forth a burst of black smoke, his power quickly transforming it into the smirking mask from before.
Kidd lay splayed on the ground, his gaze following the boy as he dug his skateboard out of the rubble and climbed atop it. The redhead knew he should also be looking for his board and returning to the race. This could be his chance to defeat the other, seeing as how both of them were tired and a strange sort of tension hung in the air, but Kidd couldn't bring himself to move. His bones felt like they had melted under his skin and his muscles were trembling. He could feel that his face was still red, his heart was beating furiously behind his ribs, and his pants were stretched taunt across his erection.
He couldn't return to the race like this.
Kidd glared up past the ruined ceiling and at the dark sky above, listening to the other as he prepared to leave. Turning his head weakly, his eyes met those of the Black King behind his mask, and with a start he realized the other was staring at him intently. Kidd could have also sworn that he was smiling under that mask, the man giving off a sense of pride and satisfaction as he surveyed his handiwork.
"See you, Eustass Kidd." he whispered in a quiet, low voice before drawing forth his black smoke and disappearing into the void.
Kidd closed his eyes, defeated. That voice had given him goosebumps. It was the first time he had heard him speak, and Kidd knew that he wasn't going to be able to erase that voice from his mind anytime soon. He had a sinking feeling that it would appear in his future fantasies.
The redhead groaned in frustration. What the hell was he doing? What was going on?
.
.
.
Since the kissing incident, Kidd's motivation to compete had lessened with each passing second. He didn't know what the hell he had done or which of the other king's buttons he had pressed, but since that shared moment in the rubble, his races against the Black King had become a torture for him.
The raven haired boy had become obsessed with him. Every time they competed in a race together, the older boy would take advantage of every opportunity to tease him. He would eagerly paw at Kidd's ass when no one was looking and whisper dirty things into his ear whenever he came close enough to fight. Race after fucking race and each one worse than the previous. Kidd would immediately blush and try to hit the bastard, completely losing his concentration and stability in the process.
His racing skills were worsening and he knew it.
Killer would throw him worried glances whenever he came home from a race, while Wire would question him as to whether everything was okay. Kidd couldn't say anything. After all, the redhead didn't know if that idiotic Black King was doing this because he was seriously interested, or because he was merely trying to fuck with Kidd in order to win the competitions. It's not like it mattered if the other man was serious, anyway. Despite how nice those dirty comments sounded to his dick, Kidd was determined to win, not to land the attractive bastard in his bed.
In any case, Kidd had sworn that he wasn't going to lose this time. No, Kidd had thought up a solution to his problems and he was going to put it in action. Today, he would end that asshole's mocking behavior and beat him to a pulp. Or at least, he hoped so. To put it mildly, his plan was dangerous. In fact, in all likelihood, it could end very, very badly – but Kidd was desperate and desperation breeds recklessness.
Taking a deep breath, he pushed his board forward and accelerated over the streets below until he was racing side-by-side with the Black King. The city around them disappeared in a blur of lights, and Kidd barely had a chance to get his bearings before he caught the smaller man peering at his body hungrily.
Kidd didn't allow himself to think too hard about that look. Instead, he sent a small wave of red energy toward the undefeated King, the show of power meant to act as a distraction from the low kick aimed at the dark figure's knees. To his annoyance, the Black King dodged both blows smoothly by jumping elegantly into the air. When he came back down to land on his board, he threw a quick punch at Kidd's stomach, which the redhead easily blocked. Unfortunately, the attack had brought their bodies close together, and Kidd could only release a long-suffering sigh while he waited for the inevitable.
The other man didn't disappoint.
"I would love to know how you are in bed, Kidd." The Black King whispered in that deep, husky voice. "I'm sure you can take other things as well as you took that punch." The older man drew closer as he continued, voice sweeter than sin. "Would you like me to show you some new moves? Some big, hard, powerful moves?"
Kidd trembled, his face flushing a deep red. No, he wasn't going to allow this to go any further. He had to make this guy understand that if he didn't cut this shit out, there'd be hell to pay. Grabbing the other's black shirt, he drew him closer until they were chest-to-chest, with their faces hidden from the cameras. Then he set his plan in motion.
"Whatever you wish, darling." He purred suggestively, nosing along the man's cheek and licking the golden earrings hanging from the king's earlobe. Then, in the dirtiest voice he could muster, he added, "I'll be waiting for you." Kidd made sure to give that last line a needy, almost pleading undertone that he had never used in his life and hopefully never would again. Finished, he separated from the Black King and pushed him roughly toward the other side of the road.
There. That had been the first time he had responded to any of the older boy's advances, and, even though his face was as red as a tomato, his plan had worked perfectly. The raven haired boy was clearly shocked and, for a moment, his speed dropped, allowing Kidd to take the lead. From there, Kidd raced ahead on a steady course and was able to maintain his rank despite his rival's best attempts to overtake him. Whenever the tanned man got too close, the redhead would hit him hard with a shot of energy, preventing him from gaining more ground.
Soon, the finish line loomed in the distance.
Kidd quickened his pace, adrenaline pumping through his veins and his power overflowing in his excitement. He was pushing himself to the edge and he knew it, but he simply didn't care. He could feel that the Black King was fast approaching, but they both knew that he was going to lose. The distance between them was too great.
Kidd growled. His muscles felt like jelly under the heat of his energy, but he couldn't stop now. Not when he was so close. With a final roar, the redhead closed his eyes and flew across the finish line, a stunned hush falling on the crowd around him. He came to a stop several meters from the finish line, then clumsily jumped down from his skateboard and landed heavily on his hands and knees.
Shock began to set in immediately. He had won. He had beaten the bastard who had mocked him with kisses and touches, the man who had thought himself to be the best in the world. Kidd was still red-faced, the embarrassment of what he'd said to the other man earlier refusing to die down. A strange dizziness had begun to set in and Kidd wasn't entirely sure what was causing it. Whatever, it didn't matter. None of it mattered, because he has won.
What happened next was a blur for Kidd. After a few seconds of silence, the crowd rushed forward to praise the new King of Kings, several hands reaching out to drag him to his feet. Someone handed him a trophy while another hugged him, everyone talking at once. In the middle of all the revelry, a familiar hand belonging to a man with wild blond hair managed to snag a hold of his shirt and drag him away from the excitement.
Kidd smiled arrogantly as he was steered away as if he was drunk, aware of a deadly glare directed at the back of his head from a pissed gray eyes.
See you tomorrow~