"Let me come, damnit," Law demands, his eyes flashing yellow in the low light.
"No."
"You bastard!"
Killer ignores him, tightening his hold around the man's cock as he pumps the shaft. Law hisses and spits like a cat in heat, but there's not much he can do when he's pinned up against the wall.
Kid snickers from his place on the bed, languidly stroking himself off. "You look good like this, Trafalgar," he says, and Killer has to agree. They'd stripped him as soon as they'd gotten him alone, and he was on display in his full, naked glory in the island's eerie red glow.
Law levels a glare at Killer's captain. "Eustass, I came here to be fucked."
"I know," Kid assures him, shifting around on the sheets to get more comfortable as he fisted his length. "Just let Kil have a go first, that's all."
Killer grunts in agreement, stealing Law's attention back with a twist around his base. It's the first time in a long time that Kid's been content to take things slow, and the first time ever that he's let Killer have one of their partners to himself. It's a consideration that Killer wasn't expecting from his brash, selfish captain, and while it's so at odds with the Kid he knows, it's something he could definitely get used to.
The gift is made ten times better just by the fact that it's Law he's got pinned up against the wall, that it's Law who he's wringing all those pretty little sounds out of. Killer's got no doubt that Kid's new good mood is linked to how well Law's been keeping him satisfied, right alongside all the new repairs made to the ship in the past few weeks. No more charred food from the stoves, no more oil-smelling clothes from the wash spinner, and best of all, no more god-awful early morning rampages.
And right now, with the man himself squirming in his hands, umber skin slick with sweat under the rosy light, whining for his release...
Needless to say, Killer's feeling a little thankful.
Law hadn't yet arrived at the island, judging by the lack of a bright yellow submarine amongst the ships docked at the piers. Kid and Killer camped out at a bar for the first few hours, having landed early in the afternoon, but had quickly grown bored with the place. It was oddly empty, with only a few travelling merchants eating at the tables and none of the locals to be seen.
They'd crossed the street to another bar, finding it in much the same state. They tried a third with no different results, and ended up staying there.
Eventually, after another few hours of drinking alone and waiting for Law, they'd given up and decided to head back to the ship for the night.
That plan was derailed the second they stepped out of the bar.
Killer's first thought was danger, because there were too many people, too many colors, and when somebody brushed up against him his hand went to trigger his gauntlets.
"Hey, baby," a sultry voice whispered in hot breath against his neck. He looked down, took in the sheer clothing, the low reds and shimmer-pinks. A whore? Standing right outside of a bar?
Kid tensed abruptly, the shift in his demeanor obvious. He hated whores, hated what they stood for, and that hatred only got stronger with each one who offered their body to him.
It wouldn't do to ruin his captain's mood further, after Law's no-show for the night. Killer patted his jean pockets, the universal sign for no money and by far the most effective way to get rid of a whore, but the person shook their head.
"I don't need your belli, baby," they said, and even though they'd spoken twice and their dress showed more skin than hid it, Killer couldn't tell if they were male or female. "I just need you to hold me tonight. Come on, you and I."
Killer tilted his head, sliding a glance over at Kid. His captain had relaxed minutely, but his shoulders were still up and his fists clenched by his side.
The person noticed, silk rustling in the warm night air as they leaned closer. "Your friend can come too, baby. Whatever you want. Just be mine tonight."
It wasn't a bad idea, considering that their chances of getting Law were looking smaller by the minute. But Kid stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze, refusing to look at the person clinging on to him.
Killer gave a half-shrug, nodding. "No. Find someone else."
For all their talk about needing him, their company didn't seem too bothered by being rejected. The person drifted away, red drapes catching the light, and almost immediately latched on to someone else.
They were certainly plenty to choose from. The whole street was swarming with people, all dressed in different hues of pinks and reds. The sheer amount of shifting, fluttering color was dizzying, and Killer tried to look anywhere but at the mass of movement to shake the disoriented haze from his mind.
"Fuckin' weird," his captain muttered, glancing around. A woman broke away from the crowd, sauntering towards Kid with pink skirts swaying around her hips, but his signature sneer sent her scurrying back. "Why the hell is everything red? Haven't they ever heard of normal fucking light?"
Killer blinked, focusing back on the street. It was true, everything was lit by bloodred lamps, each post spaced out evenly along the walkways. Almost every pole was occupied, couples bracing themselves against it as they writhed in passion.
The way to their ship was across the square, and the area was surrounded by buildings with no place for them to quietly slip away. They'd have to deal with that thronging mass of people, one way or another.
By silent agreement, they both moved forward at the same time. The crowd was thick, and they couldn't go a few steps without wandering hands grabbing at their clothes, but Kid's snarled threats kept them away from the worst of it.
They made it through to the other side after a few long minutes, Killer raising a hand to guard his eyes after the last person moved out of the way and a light shone right in his face.
There, in front of them, the street leading to the docks stretched out. Scarlet lights shined from every restaurant and shop lining its edges, and people in flowy silks glided around for as far as they could see. The people passed each other, pressing in close before either drifting away or locking together in a flurry of hands and mouths.
By his side, Kid swore, and Killer grit his teeth. The whole thing was surreal; it was almost like one big outdoor hookup shack, with a whole town walking around looking for a fuck. Hell, it'd probably be fun any other night, but right now Kid was in a pissy mood, and if one more horny piece of ass tried to slap their hand on him he was gonna start slinging metal.
"You don't look like you're having a good time," someone murmured from behind him, and Killer whipped his head around. The man standing there held his hands up, taking a step back, but Killer kept his stance tense. He didn't like how easily he'd been snuck up on.
Kid spoke up. "The fuck you want?"
"Nothing, nothing, my friend. I simply hate to see visitors not enjoying themselves on our lovely island." The man offered a smile, smooth as cream, his slicked-back hair shining in the ruby glow. "Might I offer some help?"
Kid didn't bother responding, instead fixing him with a glare. The man seemed taken aback for a moment, but caught himself. His hand slid into his jacket, pulling out a few paper sleeves not much bigger than toothpicks. He shook them in his palm, and the unmistakable sound of fine powder sifting around came from inside the sleeves.
Killer eyed them. "What is that?"
The main raised an eyebrow, his expression of shock painfully fake. "You've never heard of it? Why, it's only mah-re, the stuff love is made from."
Okay, that's definitely some drug shit. "We don't want it."
"Oh please, take some, I insist." The man thrust his hand out. "Free, as a gift to our honored guests."
Kid growled at him, but the man was insistent, taking a step closer. Killer took the packets out of his hand, only to keep Kid from starting a fight when they'd just arrived. The man flashed them another smile, miming tearing open a packet and pouring it down his throat before turning to walk away.
Killer waited until the guy was out of sight to toss the little sleeves into a nearby bush. No fucking way was any of that shit going near his mouth.
Three more men approached them as they made their way down the street, each offering more packets, each more insistent about watching them ingest their content than the last. After the fourth one tore open a packet and made as if to sling it at them, Killer didn't even bother trying to stop Kid. The man found himself ten feet away, slammed against the brick wall of a pub with the metal in his belt tingling.
No one so much as glanced at them, and that made Killer more uneasy than anything else. He reached out to grab Kid's arm, keeping him from stalking after the guy.
"We have to leave," Killer hissed, over the man moaning in pain.
"Yeah, I know. That's what we're fucking trying to do." Kid seemed annoyed that Killer thought he'd forgotten. "Except fuckface here thinks he can throw shit at me-"
Something whizzed by Kid's ear, narrowly missing as his captain ducked to avoid it. It smashed against the cobbled road, and in the shattered pieces of glass Killer picked out the shape of a beer bottle.
Kid stood, twisting around with a snarl on his lips. "Hey, who the fuck..?"
There was nothing behind them but the mass of people, a dizzying wave of red and pink. Not a single one of them looked sober enough to have thrown anything at anyone.
Killer's gaze was drawn to the roofs. The rosy lamps bathed the streets and shops in varying shades of rouge, but above the buildings it was pitch black. Anyone could hide there and watch the streets without ever being seen; Killer had suspected that they were being watched, but now he was almost certain.
Kid was still scanning the street with a scowl, daring the offender to come out. Killer caught his attention with an iron grip around his arm, setting off at a brisk speed and shoving his way through the crowd. Kid caught on after a moment or two of resistance and jerked his arm free, matching Killer's pace.
"What the fuck is going on," Kid bit out between clenched teeth, and Killer shook his head. They'd been through some weird islands before on their way to the Grand Line, including some with rocks that moved and spoke and manta rays that swam in the sky, but they'd never been in a situation quite so surreal. The scene had a very dreamlike quality, with flashes of lights and smoky air and running from something they couldn't see. Killer could feel his mind growing hazier by the second, thoughts disjointed and hard to connect.
They were halfway down the street, halfway to the docks, but the crowd only seemed to get thicker. Killer could hear shouts and drunken laughter coming from the piers, and as they pushed forward they encountered more and more resistance.
Someone reached for his belt, and he kicked them away, his patience run out. He heard heavy footsteps behind them, and fear dogged his heels along with a foggy confusion. What were they running from? People were chasing him, him and Kid...why were they chasing him?
Killer abruptly ran into somebody who didn't move out of the way, wasting a precious moment in dumb surprise before snagging Kid's shoulder and pulling him off to the side. Away from the middle of the street, along the shops and rough-hewn walkway, the crowd wasn't as dense and it was easier to push ahead. They worked their way through with Kid's bulk in front to clear the way and Killer guarding his captain's back, his head increasingly dizzy. He couldn't tell if the footsteps were behind them or in front of them now...or maybe to the side? It was so hard to see in the night, the lamps in this area casting more shadows than actual illumination.
Killer felt his foot catch on a loose stone, felt himself stumble and slow. It was a bad place for a fall, in the dark empty space between two buildings, so he struggled to get his oddly heavy feet back under him again. Kid must have sensed him falter and slowed as well, glancing back with his mouth opened as if to speak.
He felt a hand clamp down on his shoulder, and panic bubbled in his stomach. Another hand reached out of the dark to latch on to Kid. Killer jerked back, fingers sliding to his gauntlets to release the blades, but the hand held on tight with unnatural strength. His fingers slipped, missing the trigger, and all of a sudden he was being pulled down into the pitch black void.
Killer found his bearings after a few moments of utter blindness. He could see Kid next to him, his brilliant red hair shining dimly as Killer's eyes grew accustomed to the lack of light. A dark figure straddled his captain, hunched over him as if whispering in his ear. Gold flashed, for a fraction of a second, and Killer narrowed his eyes, straining to bring features into focus. His mind was gradually calming now that the writhing mass of color wasn't suffocating him, and in a startling beat of clarity he recognized earrings.
Law?
Footsteps sounded, echoing against the stone walls that surrounded the little alley. The figure rolled off of Kid and settled between them, and Killer lost his vision again as bright red light shone abruptly in his face.
"Hello, gentlemen," slurred a voice, undeniably Law's smooth drawl even with the heavy note of intoxication.
The light moved back a little, just enough for Killer's eyes to adjust and make proper use of it. Three men stood at the entrance of the alley, their hair slicked back like all the others who'd tried to pass drugs off on them. The one at their head, holding the light, spoke up. "Good evening, sir. We're quite sorry to disrupt you, but we must escort these men elsewhere-"
"But I want them," Law whined, shifting to sling his arms around their necks. Killer found himself pulled uncomfortably close, his head tilted at an awkward angle. The man was wearing pink, of all things, and the fabric by his face smelled strongly of alcohol.
The man with the light exchanged glances with his companions, then looked back to Law. "I must apologize, then, but they've gotten quite lost. I'm sure we can find you some suitable replacements-"
"But I want these," Law interrupted again, the drunkenly-high pitch in his voice grating on Killer's ears. "I found them, they're mine, and I need them. Just for tonight. I need them!"
His argument echoed that of the person they'd bumped into outside of the bar, and Killer's eyes narrowed. What the fuck was going on here?
Law leaned over, pulling Kid's face up to kiss him messily. Kid was oddly compliant, considering his bone-deep disgust for all things whiny and entitled. Killer looked to him in growing confusion and found one eye open, staring straight at him. It blinked twice, then narrowed in a silent message. Just go with it.
Killer didn't have long to think on that, because Law released Kid and moved over towards him. He resisted briefly when Law made to latch on to his neck, more of a knee-jerk reaction than anything else, but the other man held him still with that bizarre strength.
Teeth sunk into his collarbone for an instant, hard enough for him to wince, before Law moved away. "Mm," he grinned, eyes glazed and lips loose, "they're perfect."
"You're not so bad, yourself," Kid said, voice husky. He slid a hand up to Law's jaw and pulled him in for another kiss, shifting to slide a knee between Law's legs.
The men at the alley entrance exchanged another round of glances, before the one holding the lantern shrugged. "Very well, sirs. Enjoy your evening."
The light faded as the men walked away, their footsteps slowly echoing quieter and quieter. It was only when total darkness fell again that Law pushed Kid away. He sat up straight, with none of the drunken slouch he'd had before, and when he spoke his voice was clear. "The drug. Did you take any of it?"
"Nope," Kid drawled, reaching for him only to be rudely smacked away. Killer sat up and rested his back against the alley wall, gathering his thoughts.
"Good. You've undoubtedly inhaled some, but the stronger effects are only a result of direct ingestion." Law struck a match, light sparking like a star, before bringing it up to a lamp set in the wall that Killer hadn't even noticed in the dark despite its close proximity to his head. The sconce lit up in a flash of startling red, but by this point Killer had half-expected it.
The man turned to grasp Kid's chin, leaning forward as if to kiss him, but instead tilted the captain's head back and studied his eyes. He seemed satisfied with what he saw, turning to reach for Killer.
Killer drew back when Law made to lift his mask. "The hell are you doing?"
Law frowned at him, his features more bronze than brown in the rosy glow. "I need to see how much you've inhaled."
"I didn't touch that stuff."
"Good for you," Law said, lifting in eyebrow in mocking praise, "but everyone else on this island has, and it's thick enough in the air that you're practically breathing it. Let me see."
"No." He could deal with the drug; the mask was staying on.
Law narrowed his eyes, and though he knew the man couldn't see, Killer narrowed his right back. His mind was getting clearer by the minute, and now that he thought of it, it was pretty damn suspicious that Law had managed to be in the exact right place at the exact right time.
Kid seemed to have the same thought. "Hey, were you following us or what?"
Law's lips drew into a thin scowl. "I could ask you the same. How is it that you just so happened to walk by, not half a minute after I found this place?"
"Hey, we were being chased, asshole," Kid snapped, then frowned. "Why the hell were they chasing us?"
"Probably because you stand out." Law gestured down to his clothes, the soft, flowy pinks that matched the silk robes they'd seen on the street, then to Killer's tasseled shirt and Kid's bright yellow pants. For some reason, Law had a thin blue length of string tied around his neck, unlike anyone else they'd seen on the island. "They'll approach anyone who looks different. What did you do when they offered you the packets?"
Kid opened his mouth to speak, but paused. "...Fuck, I dunno. It's all hazy. I think...I think we tossed them. When they weren't looking."
"You do realize that they're-"
"Watching from the rooftops," Killer interjected. He pulled himself up, sitting back on his heels and thumbing the switches on his gauntlets. Law seemed to know quite a bit about this island, and his counter-accusation about being followed hadn't done much to dispel Killer's suspicion. "Who the hell are these people? What's going on here?"
Law regarded him with his head tilted, lips curved up in a smirk. "Oh, come on. Can't you figure it out?"
Killer had a pretty good guess, but he wasn't about to offer it up with Law mocking him like that. "Why bother when you've already got it figured out for me?"
"Tch. Making me do all the work? That sounds familiar." The man's eyes sparkled with lewd suggestion.
Killer felt his cock twinge with phantom discomfort, remembering being ridden far past the point of it being pleasurable. Oh, you son of a bitch. "Out with it, then," he growled.
Law's smile widened, and Killer had the sinking feeling that he'd lost yet another unspoken battle with the man.
"Isn't it obvious? It's the sex trade, Mr. Soldier."