Grand Line City Hearts

Chapter One

It's all about the money

Bei Geld hört Freundschaft auf

Present day:

Trafalgar Law currently sat in his tiny apartment and buried his head in his hands.

Nami had just laid out the numbers to him. It wasn't exactly a surprise, but it was still fucking devastating. He scolded himself for being so delusional in the first place. He should've never expected that he would be actually able to pay off the 300000$ dept in only three years.

Because that had been exactly what he had done: Believing that he could actually do it, pay off his dept, and thus live a happy life.

He was already working double shifts at the hospital, sixteen hours each day from Monday to Friday, and then another twelve hour shift on Sunday. Every single dollar he had earned he had used to pay off the fucking dept.

Now two years of his three year deadline were already gone, and he had one year and 200000$ left to pay off. You didn't need to be a genius to figure out that that won't work out.

He felt like crying. And fuck this shit, he didn't fucking cry. Not anymore since he had been away from that fucker Doflamingo. The day he had been free of Doflamingo he made the resolve to never ever shed a tear again over his miserable live, because he'd been fucking free of Doflamingo.

He tried to take a deep breath to calm his nerves. He felt like hyperventilating. All those feelings, all those memories he had buried deep inside him were threatening to surface.

Breathe, Law, breathe.

"What should I do?" he asked Nami, head still buried in his hands.

He felt Nami's hand on his back in a soothing gesture. He knew that Nami wasn't one for openly showing affection, so this simple gesture meant a lot. But he wouldn't break down over this, oh no, he wouldn't. He had been through so much shit in his life, and he had finally done it, finally fulfilled his dream – he was a successful surgeon at his young age - and now he wouldn't let Doflamingo take everything away again. Not after he had worked so fucking hard for his dream.

"I don't know, Law, I don't know." Nami said and still rubbed his back.

Nami was one of his closest friends. The fiery redhead was a couple years younger than he was, but he couldn't care less. Yeah, that was another big plus of his life away from Doflamingo: He was finally able to have real friends, friends that showed him how it felt to be accepted, to have a family of some sorts.

Their group of friends was notorious in Grand Line City, it was said that they were probably one of the most envied clique roaming in Grand Line City, the most the exclusive clique, the most educated, sophisticated and influential group of friends.

Their clique consisted of seven friends. There was Nami, a successful banker, notorious for her seducing tactics, only to lure money from unsuspecting rich bachelors. Nami's best friend was a woman in her early thirties, Nico Robin, who was managing basically all of Grand Line City's museums and art exhibitions. There were two more women in their clique: Kaya, a talented doctor and heir of an impressive amount of money that she'd used for charity purposes only. The Grand Line City Times titled her to be the most generous person in Grand Line City, right next to Vivi, an equally wealthy blue haired girl who engaged in the local politics as a white hope against all the corruption.

When he had first told Nami about his financial struggles, she had just shrugged and proposed: 'Why don't you ask Vivi or Kaya for money?' But Doflamingo was a sadistic motherfucker. He had made a clause in their contract that he would have to earn all the money by himself, no donations whatsoever. Nami had suggested that she'd find a loophole in the contract, anything, so that Kaya or Vivi could pay his dept off – but he didn't wanna involve Nami with Doflamingo. He didn't want to endanger her – and he would definitely endanger Nami if she would start messing with Doflamingo's contract.

And who was he kidding? Indeed the newspaper titled their little group of friends the most influential group in Grand Line City, and that may be true – concerning setting trends in what restaurant to dine in. But no shit – in reality the underground ruled Grand Line City. And Grand Line City's underground was ruled by fucking Doflamingo.

He sighed again and looked at all the paperwork piling on the table.

Nami had known of his financial problem from the very beginning, and she had helped him keeping his living costs as low as possible. If they would go out to a club, bar or restaurant, Nami would pay for his entrance, food and drinks. In return she could save her own health insurance because he had to treat her for free. She was the one who proposed the deal, so Law guessed that she was making quite the profit with this arrangement.

Nami was still rubbing his back. It became somewhat unnerving.

"You can let go now, Nami."

Nami huffed, but let go. She checked her watch and jumped a bit at the time. "Shit, it's getting late! And I promised Robin to stop over, she wanted me to try on that new dress-" She hurried over to the door. Before she left she turned around and yelled at him: "And don't forget, tonight at the 'Baratie'. Be on time, since tonight is the night I plan on getting Sanji to pay his dept." She smirked evilly. Then she slammed the door behind her.

He sighed again.

He was damn thankful that Nami was helping him with his financial struggles, but sometimes he had the feeling that Nami didn't get that Doflamingo was one mean motherfucker.

He checked the time, he had over an hour till Kaku (next to Sanji and him the only other male in their clique) would pick him up to go out. It was a Friday night and his Friday nights were the only luxury he allowed himself. Each Friday night their group would meet up at the 'Baratie', a trendy restaurant downtown where Sanji worked. They'd grab a snack and a couple drinks, and then they would head out to a hip club or bar downtown, or another vernissage or exhibition.

This night they planned to go the 'Arabasta', a notorious night club in the outskirts of Grand Line City. The 'Arabasta' was famous for drug trafficking, prostitution and a broad homosexual scene. Exactly his type of club.

He sighed again at the huge pile of documents on his table and went into his tiny bedroom to change for the night. While he was rummaging through his closet he thought about other ways of earning money, that didn't take up the rest of his free time. He was already working double shifts at the hospital, and he needed the rest of his time to sleep and eat. His only pleasures were his Friday nights he'd spent with the clique.

He finally found his favorite pair of skinny jeans and put them on. He was tempted to wear his favorite black and yellow hoodie with the black smiley face drawn on it, but he knew that Sanji and Nami would throw a fit if he would wear that peculiar piece of clothing on a Friday night. And besides, they were going to the 'Arabasta'. Something that would show off his collar bones and his lithe figure was more appropriate than the old hoodie. He kept on rummaging through his closet, damn, it was one big mess, until he found a white V-neck T-shirt that was a size too small for him. He put it on nevertheless and checked his appearance in the mirror.

The skinny jeans were outlining his ass nicely, and the white T-shirt showed off his stomach muscles. He wasn't sure if he looked good, in his own opinion he was too skinny, but then it didn't matter what he thought about his body, it mattered what others thought about his appearance – well, tonight it did.

He frowned and still looked at himself in the mirror. He looked like he was looking for sex, like he needed it badly. And who was he kidding, if the clique decided to go out to the 'Arabasta', he was for sure using his chance to get some sex. His limited time schedule didn't leave a lot of time to hang around in gay bars to look for a nice hookup. No shit, he only got a break from his murderous schedule on Friday nights, and they seldom ended up in gay bars, even if their whole clique knew that Kaku and he were gay. He wasn't so sure about Sanji, who claimed himself straighter than straight, but Law was good in reading people. Sanji just didn't get it yet.

But well, he hoped he would find a decent hookup tonight. Maybe an hour of mindless fucking would distract him from the looming sword of Damocles above his head. Fucking Doflamingo and his sick mind.

He needed more money. Desperately. And he had to earn it all by himself.

He looked again at his reflection in the mirror. The tattoos on his knuckles. His piercings. More tattoos on his torso. And then a twisted idea started forming in his head.

Desperate measures for desperate people, right? Well, here goes nothing. He fucking needed the money. He needed the money to be able to look at his tattoos knowing he would be free from that sick man; that he would never have to go back to him. Never.

Could he really do this?

Yeah, he could. He would rather let thousands of anonymous man fuck him for money than let Doflamingo lay a hand on him ever again.

He could do this. He would simply sell his body for money. After his double shifts at the hospital he could rush over to the 'Arabasta', take some man upstairs, let them fuck him, take the money, go home, sleep. He would earn a lot of money in less than an hour. And if he would stop going out with the clique on Friday nights – he winced at that thought – he could have various clients throughout the night.

He was fucking disgusted at his own thoughts.

He imagined faceless monsters fucking him dry. He imagined foul-smelling cocks shoved down his throat. He imagined the shame and disgust he would be feeling at his own actions.

Then he imagined Doflamingo's hand caressing his him. Doflamingo's hands touching his junk. Doflamingo's cock buried deep inside him.

Fuck.

He rushed to the bathroom to throw up, but he retched up nothing but bile.

He calmed his frantic heart rate and took some deep breaths. He splashed some water in his face and rinsed his mouth. Damn. He splashed some more water in his face.

Suddenly there was loud knocking on his door. Shit. That must be Kaku. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror. His eyes were red and due to the water in his face he looked like he had just cried. Fuck.

"Give me two minutes!" He yelled from the bathroom. He knew that Kaku would hear him through the thin door.

He heard a muffled "Fine" coming from the hallway.

He rubbed his face dry with a towel and then applied some black eyeliner to emphasize his grey eyes. He would give it a try, prostituting himself. If it wouldn't work out, if he hated it throughout, he wouldn't do it again.

Give it a try, Law, he told his reflection in the mirror.

When he finally left the bathroom to open the door for Kaku, he wondered if he could still watch his reflection in the mirror after he came home tonight.

The ride with Kaku to the 'Baratie' was rather quiet. He didn't feel like chatting with the square nosed man.

When they arrived at the 'Baratie', it was around eleven at night, their usual time to meet. Kaku and he sat down in a booth in the back of the restaurant and ordered some drinks. The drinks arrived in no time since the 'Baratie' was closing up around this time and there were hardly any customers around. He took a sip from his whiskey and almost sighed in relief. He knew that he wouldn't make it through the night without any alcohol, so he thankfully downed the whiskey in one huge gulp. He immediately felt the alcohol race through his worn out body and affect him. Alcohol on an empty stomach was usually not a very good idea, but fuck this shit, tonight it would be the only help to his cause.

After he had the waiter refill his glass, he smiled. Maybe he would find a client that was extremely wealthy and would find extreme pleasure in tipping him generously.

Yeah, as if.

But Kaku seemed to notice that his black mood was slightly improved and that it was now save to talk to him. "Did you have a bad week?" He asked with serious concern in his voice.

"Yeah, my week had been pretty damn shitty. I had a couple of patients die on the table. Always hate it when that happens." Yeah, and I have realized that I can't possibly pay of a 200 000 $ dept I owe to a fucking dangerous rapist, so I have to go back to him in one year, and since I wanna avoid that at any cost I decided to prostitute myself, he added in his mind.

Kaku nodded in understanding. "Yeah, I mean those Friday nights are the only distraction we have left from work, don't we?"

"Yeah."

Law didn't really know what Kaku's job was, since he wasn't allowed to talk about it, but it had something to do with the government and it apparently wore him out too, he seemed often mentally and physically exhausted. A state of body and mind Law could easily relate too. Maybe that was one of the reasons why he got along with Kaku so well.

They just sat in the almost empty 'Baratie' and enjoyed their drinks in silence from now on, waiting for the rest of their clique to show up, enjoying the last bits of peaceful silence before-

"NAMI-SAN! ROBIN-CHWAN! I'm sorry you had to wait for me!" Sanji cried when he emerged from the kitchen. There went their peaceful silence.

"Nami and Robin ain't here yet." Law said.

"Oh, it's just you, shitheads." Sanji helped himself to a drink and joined them in their booth. Law could see how eager Sanji was watching the door, waiting for his precious girls to walk him. No shit, that man had some serious issues.

Kaku asked Sanji about his day, always the polite gentleman he was, but Sanji seemed to be too worried about the absence of his angels than to answer Kaku's question. But suddenly Sanji whipped his head around and asked out of the blue: "Why aren't you two dating?"

Law couldn't help it, he just had to laugh really hard. No shit, Sanji was too damn oblivious to the world. He couldn't stop his laughing fit. Not even when Kaku and Sanji both kicked him under the table. "You're fucking funny, Sanji, shit, really!"

"I was just asking! I mean, you two would be a great couple! You hang out together all the time, you get along well, and you both look kind of hot-" Sanji tried to defend himself.

"Sanji, what if Law was just not my type?" Kaku asked, rather pissed off.

"And besides that, Kaku and I are both bottoms." He added.

"Bottoms?" Sanji asked. Law couldn't suppress his grin. Sanji was just so fucking clueless. He saw out of the corner of his eye how the girls arrived and how Nami bent down to whisper in Sanji's ear to probably tick him off: "What about bottoms?"

As expected, Sanji blew up. "NAMI-SAN! ROBIN-CHAN! KAYA-CHAN!"

The girls ignored Sanji's outburst for the most part and greeted Kaku and him with hugs and kisses. When they finally all sat down and Sanji could breathe normally again, Law winked at Nami and tried to keep the lecherous smirk out of his voice when he asked: "So what are we doing tonight? Anything special?"

"Not really-" Sanji tried to say before Nami interrupted him.

"Well, I guess we got some plans for tonight." Nami grinned evilly and Robin's smile was a bit crueler than her usual mysterious smirk.

"We thought we'd go to the 'Arabasta'." Robin added.

"Fine with me. Hadn't had some real fun in a while. 'Arabasta' sounds just great." He supported Robin's suggestion.

"I'm in." Kaku and Kaya nodded, both also aware of Nami's and Robin's rather deceitful scheming.

"Wait, what? We're talking about the 'Arabasta', right? The notorious and infamous 'Arabasta'? The drug dealing place? The brothel? Why would I wanna go there?" Sanji freaked.

"The 'Arabasta' is not as bad as you think. It's true, you find every kind of distraction there you seek, but the drinks are good, the music is fine and according to the Grand Times Magazine one of the city's trendiest clubs." Robin reasoned.

"And Sanji, did you forget about our little bet last weekend? Did you seriously think we would forget about it? The Arabasta is the best place to find someone, you know." Nami grinned and winked back at Law. Nami, Robin and he had created a sweet little intrigue to get Sanji to realize that he was indeed playing for the other team – and since Robin and Nami did become rather annoyed by the constant drooling over them. So they tricked Sanji into a simple bet, Sanji lost the bet – and now he had to get intimate with a man.

They all observed Sanji. There still was the possibility that he wouldn't do it, even if he had signed one of Nami's legendary contracts and all. The gears in Sanji's head seemed to be working, and then he finally spoke up: "Yeah, let's get it done and over with."

"What are we waiting for, let's go!" Law suggested, before Sanji might change his mind again.

They all chose to take a cap to the club, since they all planned on drinking tonight.

During the cap ride Sanji bitched about his bet and set the rules for his experiment. Sadly he and Kaku weren't allowed to watch. He acted like he was all excited about Sanji's situation, but secretly he was rather thankful that Sanji created such a huge commotion about his lost bet, so that no one would pay too close attention to what he would be doing later at the 'Arabasta'. Unintentionally their scheming had worked out as the perfect distraction for his first night as a prostitute, since he didn't really want any of his friends to find out what he was about to do.

After a twenty minute ride they arrived at the 'Arabasta'. The bouncers checked their IDs and since it was hardly 11:30 pm, the club was rather empty. The 'Arabasta' usually started burning up around one or two in the morning. Their little group sat down at an unoccupied table in a rather dark corner, from where they could still observe the entrance of the club.

Kaku got them their first round of drinks and Law happily started downing the heavy liquor. Nami and Robin were already scanning the crowd for possible victims for Sanji.

"What about him?" Nami asked and pointed at a blonde man with glasses on the dance floor.

"No offense, Kaya, but Sanji doesn't like blondes." Robin said. Kaya giggled and ran her hand subconsciously through her blonde hair.

"Wait, I do like blondes-" Sanji protested.

"The blonde dude over there isn't gay anyway." Law ended their little argument. No shit, he could even tell from this distance that the guy over there was straight.

"How can you tell?" Sanji wanted to know.

"It's actually pretty easy. It's the way gays stare at asses."

"WHAT?"

"You heard me. Gay guys check out asses; preferably asses of men. Even the bottoms do." He couldn't suppress a grin.

Sanji mumbled something in defeat, but he wasn't listening anymore. A small group of men had just entered the club, and damn, it felt like everyone in the club whipped their heads around to stare at the group. He wasn't sure what it was, maybe their exotic hair colors, the utter confidence they all emitted, their muscular bodies – he knew he was drooling by now. Three of the five men that just had entered the club were extremely bulky, but the other two men weren't exactly small or lean either.

He couldn't look away from the group. They all emitted just so much raw energy, so much confidence, so much danger. Especially one man stood out. He had flaming red hair, wore some goggles in them, maybe to keep his rather long and wild looking mane in check. The man was fucking huge and probably the most muscled man he had ever seen. No shit, even Doflamingo would look remotely skinny next to that beast of a man.

And the best part of the beast was that he was indeed checking out asses. He grinned. "Give it a try, Sanji. See the guy with the flaming red hair that just entered the club? He doesn't notice anything, except the asses of the guys around him."

Law watched the group of men disappear in another dark corner of the club. He noticed with amusement that Sanji was still watching the corner where the men had disappeared around.

"What?" Sanji snapped when he noticed that everybody was watching him with amusement.

"Dude, you were totally checking him out!" Kaku cried.

Oh no. The red haired beast was his to hit on. "That's unfair, I saw the red haired man first!"

"I didn't check the ginger out. I was checking the green haired one out." Sanji stated. Law almost sighed in relief. He took another gulp of his drink and had to process what just had happened first. So he wanted that red haired beast of a man, even if he had just caught a small glimpse of him. Didn't know you were such a masochist, he thought, because that red haired fucker had looked downright dangerous.

He tried to concentrate on his surroundings again, but some of his thoughts still lingered on the red haired beast. He just knew that that man would be the first one he would try to sell his body to.

That man or no one.

But before he could actually go through with his plan, he needed a lot more to drink.

Eustass Kidd was a Galleya worker down to the core. He enjoyed construction ships during the day, because what was sweeter than the cold feeling of steel beneath his fingers? Bending metal with his bare hands, shaping that fucking awesome material with the pure force of his own muscles – he had finally found something he could occupy himself with, some would even say that he'd finally found a hobby of some sort.

And of course working for the infamous Galleya Company did not only include constructing ships, oh no, even more fun were the nightly activities of the Company. The Galleya Company was mainly a notorious underground organization in Grand Line City. They usually dealt with all kinds of weapons and of course, there were rival underground organizations which had to be kept at bay, and for both, the dealing with weapons and the dealing with the rival organizations, was merciless violence indeed needed.

And what was more fun for him than to blow some shit up, to fuck shit up?

He knew that he had a short fuse and that he was an extremely aggressive man, no shit, considering what he had gone through. But finally, here within the Galleya Company, he had found something he'd call a home, and he found nakama, other men that were as messed up as he was, outcasts and misfits of society, not fitting in anywhere but here.

He had learnt that he was a misfit back in middle school, and from there on his life went pretty much downhill.

He had started drinking at an early age – not really surprising, considering that his mother was an alcoholic. He had lived with his whore of a mother in a shitty apartment and basically the only things left in their fridge were often half empty bottles of liquor.

In school the other kids teased him for hid old clothes, for his red hair, for his pale skin, that his mother was whoring around – the list could go on and on. But fuck school. He had dropped out in year eight, meeting Killer and his small gang. They were just a bunch of kids, drinking, dealing, doing coke and shit, living in an old garage, where they would remodel some stolen cars.

They had forgotten that they had been only teenagers.

Live out there was pretty harsh. Liquor, weed, coke – that made it more bearable.

Killer and he had become best buddies, mugging cars together, dealing with a lot of shit, doing snow, fuck, lots of sweet fucking snow. They often had partied for days without getting sober in between, they were getting in fights, breaking noses; they were fucking girls, fucking boys, everything, fucking everything up.

Killer had been like a brother.

Fuck. He fucking missed Killer. He was so not going there right now. Don't go there. Concentrate on the present. The present. Killer was long dead, no need to grief over the past.

Yeah, the present wasn't bad. And he had found pretty decent nakama within the company, new brothers that had lived an equally harsh life before they had become part of the company.

For example there were Ace, Zoro and Rob Lucci, his closest friends within the company, and damn, he had always thought he had no conscience, that his heart was made from metal, but shit, when he had met Rob Lucci he had realized there were even colder motherfuckers out there. Lucci's heart was most likely made out of ice.

And Ace… he didn't really know how to describe that little shit. Always grinning, always lighting shit on fire, always eating. Yeah, shit, but he was fun to hang around, and that kid could fight if he wanted to. And Zoro as well, he was rather calm and grumpy, but drank even more than he did, and no one, not even he, wanted to stand between Zoro and his swords.

Today he had worked the day shift in the shipyard, so that meant he had the night off, and there were basically three options how to spent your free nights as a Galleya worker: You could stay at the bar in the apartment building, drinking, starting a fight with some of your nakama and spar a bit; or you can go down to the 'Ring', an illegal fighting club and beat some asshole to pulp; or you can just walk up the street to the 'Arabasta', a nightclub, owned by that fucker Crocodile.

Currently Zoro, Luffy, Usopp, Franky and he were walking down the street to the 'Arabasta'. Luffy and Usopp jumping around and acting like the characters in some weird story Usopp kept on telling (they pretended that they were all pirates). Those annoying shits had way too much energy for his taste. He sighed and trotted behind Zoro down the road to the rather shitty night club.

The 'Arabasta' was mainly a bar, but they had a small dance floor too, and well, the 'Arabasta' was known for drug trafficking and the rentable rooms upstairs, used by prostitutes of each gender. Yeah, he felt like fucking some nice piece of ass tonight. Preferably someone who liked it rough.

After five minutes of rather peaceful walking (he just ignored Luffy and Usopp and their antics) they arrived at the huge parking lot of the 'Arabasta'. The bouncers let them in without even a second glance; they were regulars. The club was fucking busy tonight, since it was Friday, Kidd acknowledged.

They went through the wooden double doors and were immediately greeted by the deep bass vibrating through the club, the noise of people trying to hold a conversation above the loud music, the smell of sweat, alcohol and sex. He let his eyes wander around the crowd, just checking it out, and then his eyes got stuck on a group of people sitting around a table in the back. A lot of girls and two guys. The group didn't seem to fit in here, the place to roughed up for those kinds of people. They belonged in one of the nice clubs downtown, not in this drugged up hell out here in the deserted industrial parts of Grand Line City.

The place was crowded and their small group fought their way through the mass of dancing and intoxicated drunks to their usual spot in the back of the bar. They ordered their first round of shots. It was tradition that the Galleya workers would drink the first round together. Kidd grinned at the slight burn the booze left when it ran down his throat. He was in the mood for a second shot, so they all shared another round.

He took off to search the crowd for some fuckable asses, but he didn't really see any to his liking. There were a few regulars, but he knew that fucking the same ass more than two or three times would always lead to trouble, to some jealously issues, to attachment… oh no, he was so not fucking one of the regulars tonight.

He returned to the bar and sat down on the barstool with his back to the bar, legs spread wide, in a not so subtle invitation for whoever would come by. He ordered another drink and watched with amusement how Luffy and Franky practically tore the dance floor apart with their antics.

The beats of the music tore through his body and he felt how his heart beat in the same rhythm as the music. The atmosphere in the club changed with each passing hour. In the beginning it was always about drinking and smoking, chatting with friends, eyeing the crowd up. But then the night became darker and soon booze and cigarettes were replaced by coke and some joints. The air became heavier, filled with smoke and humidity, the crowd wasn't dancing any longer, you could hardly describe that as dancing, when a body rubbed against another sweat slicked body. That was grinding, intercourse while still being fully clothed.

It was also way to warm in this damned club, he felt his wife beater sticking to his skin, his heavy coat wasn't helping, but he was so not taking his heavy fur coat off.

He still observed the crowd like the dangerous predator he was. He didn't feel like going out there and grabbing some random piece of ass, no, tonight he would wait till his prey would come to him like a moth couldn't resist the flame.

The bartender refilled his already empty glass again.

Men like women stepped by, offered to buy him a drink, or were just skipping small talk and were coming right down to business, but none of those people were to his liking. He knew what he wanted, and to his annoyance he didn't find it yet.

He took another gulp of his drink and contemplated for a second to go for a nasty fight on the parking lot instead of a fuck to let out some of the build up pressure, but shit, he wanted a nice piece of ass and not to break someone's nose. Or he could always get really shitfaced. That was always a solution.

He kept on observing the crowd, and he could tell exactly who was drunk and who was not only drunk but on drugs. He felt a wave of nostalgia crash over him. If Killer would be here… yeah, they would have tons of fun, they would've probably torn the place apart by now, only because they would've been bored to death… they would've shared some lines, shared some girl in the bathrooms which liked two cocks inside her at the same time…

But Killer was dead since that one fateful night eight years ago.

Fuck you, Killer, for going down that easily. Fuck you for leaving me behind. And fuck that motherfucker Joker, you'll meet him in hell, because we'll all end up in hell, but guess what, before you'll see me again, I'm going to send Doflamingo on a silver platter down to hell and then you can fuck him up like he fucked up us.

Shit. His drink was already empty again. Damn. He waved the barkeeper and he refilled his glass without much fuss.

He took a sip of the liquid that burned down his esophagus and turned his back to the bar, legs still comfortably spread in an unmistakable invitation for whoever would be interested.

And then he saw him.

He was leaning casually against the wall across the club. Kidd couldn't really see everything of the man, since there was a partying crowd between them, but shit, that man looked interesting. He could only make out black short hair, a goatee and his lean figure. But there was something about the expression in the stranger's face, something he couldn't place, something that utterly intrigued him.

Come to me.

And as on clue the man's eyes darted upward and locked on him.

Kidd grinned. His feral grin would either encourage or frighten the stranger away. He hadn't had any use for the later.

And then the man grinned back. It wasn't really a grin, rather a sly smile, but it satisfied Kidd the same.

Come to me.

And then the stranger came.

His prey was walking towards him, making his way gracefully through the crowd, eyes still locked on him.

Kidd let his gaze hungrily wander all over the stranger's body.

Fuck.

He knew he wanted that man, that man or no other.

And then the stranger stopped in front of him, letting his gaze rake over his body equally.

Kidd's smile widened as he checked to man in front of him out. The stranger wore incredibly tight jeans, where nothing was left to his imagination. Fuck, the man had deadly long legs, and Kidd had to withstand the urge to twirl the man around to check his ass out. But he just knew that it would look downright eatable in those tight pants. His mouth went dry as he let his gaze travel upwards.

The tight white T-Shirt was sticking to the man's body due to the humidity in the club, the sweat, maybe some spilled liquor, but fuck it, he could see the man's flat stomach, his abs through the thin material, and fuck, he could see hints of black tattoos through the thin shirt.

The stranger's arms hung loosely at his side, lean but muscled, brawny tan limbs, covered in tattoos.

And then his burning gaze reached the man's face, and fuck, he liked what he saw there. Huge grey eyes that stared at him with a mixture of lust, desire, and defiance – and fucking shit, the man in front of him did the same thing as he was doing: Eye-fucking him.

The stranger's hair was black and short, and his sly smile revealed a row of white teeth. Several piercings marred the stranger's ears, and beneath his eyes were telltale dark circles that the man was used to nights were you would do anything but sleep.

Kidd wanted this man.

And the object of his desire apparently came to the same conclusion. The man stepped forward and filled the space between his legs. Kidd let out a growl of approval and reached out with his real arm to grab the stranger's hip.

The flesh beneath his fingers was fucking hot. He got a hard on only imagining burying his cock into the strangers scorching hot flesh.

"What shall I call you?" Kidd rasped and stroked the stranger's hip.

The stranger grinned again and bent forward to whisper in his ear: "Call me Heart."

"So, Heart, you wanna fuck?" He wasn't one to beat around the bush.

The walking piece of sex that called himself Heart only smiled and answered: "The question is: Do you wanna fuck me?"

"I do. But I say it only once: I ain't knowing nothing 'bout being gentle. So be warned."

Heart nodded and then smiled again: "Good. Then let's get down to business. 200 bucks for an hour. I only do it with a condom."

"You shitting me?" Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He had really wanted to fuck the shit out of the man in front of him. But he fucking despised prostitutes. The dirty whore that gave birth to him had been the best example for him why to stay the fuck away from hookers. And fuck this shit, he looked good enough to plow some ass for free.

Heart shook his head.

Fuck. He really wanted to fuck that man. The heat he emitted, the aura of mystery that surrounded that man – FUCK!

And damn, 200 fucking bucks? That was a shitload of money. The usual rate for a prostitute around here, male or female, varied between 50 and 100 bucks an hour. So what was so fucking special about the black haired man in front of him that he could charge twice the usual price? He couldn't fucking help it, he was fucking intrigued with the prostitute in front of him.

"You often work here, Heart?" He tried to keep the malice out of his voice, but the slight change in the other's eyes told him that it didn't go unnoticed.

"No."

Kidd wasn't sure if that answer satisfied him or not.

But then he really wanted to fuck that man.

"Your ass better be fucking tight." He growled, got off his barstool and went over to where the stairs to the rentable rooms on the upper floor were. He knew instinctively that Heart was following him.

If Killer could see him right now he would definitely laugh his ass off and call him a fucking hypocrite. And fuck this shit, he probably deserved it.

A/N: HAHAHAHA I'm probably the meanest person on earth to stop here - but the smut will come next chapter, lots and lots of smut XD

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TBC