Chapter Text
Kid
A lot of people classified Kid as ‘stupid’, someone who did things without considering the consequences, he always took ‘live in the moment’ too literally. So, when he asked Law if he was free for a date, and Law said yes, Kid’s world began to crumble. Now what? He wished so desperately to have kept his quote unquote relationship a mere hookup because now, he had to actually impress him. Not just anyone, Kid had to impress Trafalgar fucking Law. Law who drove a custom Audi RS7, Law who wore solid gold earrings, chains and rings, Law who hung out in the VIP skybox of the most expensive club in Dressrosa, Law who was the son of a Donquixote brother. And what was Kid? He worked sixteen hour shifts at a car shop, he barely made minimum wage, he lived with three roommates in a house meant for one person, he wore second-third-fourth hand clothes, most were DIY-ed, not because he was a true punk, but because every cent went to rent, groceries and bills. What was he supposed to do? He didn’t even know what Law liked, what food he preferred, what he would want for a date? And…
Oh fuck, Kid stopped in his tracks, only a few feet from his front door as the horror dawned on him, I don’t even have the fucking dad’s approval. It had slipped Kid’s mind that Corazon’s only words to him were ‘I just wanted to let you know that you’re not good enough for Law, no one is.’ Corazon clearly didn’t fuck with Kid, his friends, his home, or anything about him. So why did he fucking ask Law on a date? And why the fuck did Law say yes?! Couldn't he have just slapped Kid across the face, laughed at him and gone back to class? Why did he smirk at him and mutter ‘I’m free on Saturday after eight, don’t be late picking me up’ before strutting off? The asshole had to have known that Kid was completely and utterly clueless, right? That the most luxury Kid could afford was a pizza and a six pack of PBR, that his ‘first dates’ were crust punk shows where someone always ended up hospitalized, that Kid fucking sucked at romance. Man, he wished he was Wire, that motherfucker wrote fifteen page love letters for his crushes, or at least Heat, cause he bought flowers. But did Law like flowers? Fuck, fuck, fuck! “Why did I do this to myself?” Kid groaned, only to be startled by Killer’s voice, who was smoking on the porch.
“Do what to yourself? What did you do this time?” His hair was disheveled like always, and he was in a loose tank top and boxers, his cigarette barely halfway burned.
Kid walked up to the creaky porch fence, “nothing, I just got work tomorrow, and like… ugh, I don’t know,” he looked up, and Killer took the hint, flipping his cigarette and tucking it in between Kid’s lips. “I sometimes wonder if I shoulda stayed in school, finished college or some shit, maybe I would’ve been better off.” he said after an exhale of smoke.
Killer hummed in acknowledgement, taking the cigarette back. That was always an unspoken agreement between the four of them– that Kid had more potential than he displayed, that he could’ve gone to college or trade school, and been a real mechanic, not someone who just worked without a degree because the Franky House didn’t want to pay for regulations. Not Killer though, he only had the basic skills to work fast food places, nothing for college or university; the same went for Heat and Wire, they all always wondered why Kid stuck around. “This ain’t something you talk about often, what gives?”
A fork in the road, because telling Killer the truth would mean that the only reason Kid was questioning his potential was because of Law, and that he wanted to be on his level. But could he even lie? How could he lie to Killer, they’d grown up together, he would see right through Kid. “It’s stupid,” Kid settled, his shoulders slumping as he walked up the rickety steps, “I always question myself when it’s for other people, but I’m also egotistical as fuck, nothing makes sense.”
With a side eye, Killer watched him walk to the door, and he sighed, following him. “You’re not egotistical, Kid, that’s your whole problem. You pretend to be to make yourself all big,” he understood that Kid was really not in the mood for a lecture, but he did it anyway, “is this about the guy from the club?” He saw Kid physically cringe as he pulled his leather jacket, the clinking of his chains the only noise between them as Kid slumped onto the couch. So it was about the guy, obviously. With a sigh, Killer sat down on the couch across from Kid, “Kid, what did you do?”
“I asked him out,” Kid crumbled almost right away, wiping at his face in regret, “but like… I don’t know why I fucking did that, dude, I know nothing about this guy. I don’t know what he likes, he’s filthy fucking rich, he’s not easily impressed, I have nothing to show but a good fuck,” there was a long few moments of silence between them and it was interrupted by a sigh from Kid, “and even worse… I don’t know why he said yes. I’m starting to think he only said yes to see how badly I fuck up.” It honestly was a possibility, the more he thought about it, the more he realized he knew nothing about Law.
Law
“Law?” The door clicking open with the jangle of keys made Corazon look up from his papers, “welcome home, how was class?” he asked, watching Law drop his bag by the kitchen island. Typically, everyone in the Donquixote clan lived in the estate that Doflamingo owned, and for a while, so did Law and Corazon, but after countless… issues, Corazon decided that it would be best for Law to have his own place. Obviously, Doflamingo didn’t approve, but it was becoming impossible for Law to live in the house, so Corazon offered to move out too (which was just a front, because he was rarely home, so the apartment was basically Law’s).
Law kicked off his boots, pulling out his earbuds, “class was fine, I had to leave the lab early to help Penguin though so I’m tired,” he explained, clicking off his music and putting his phone back into his pocket, “so I might go and sleep for a bit.”
“Sleep? It’s almost nine though, won’t that mess with your sleep schedule?” He paused, watching Law ponder his words, before he spoke up again, “ah, nevermind, you should sleep as much as you can.” he encouraged. Law’s insomnia had been an issue since he was seven, and for a while, Corazon thought that it was just difficulty adjusting to his new life. No kid ever adjusted easily to being adopted, but after the sleeping issues persisted into his teenage years, Corazon had him put on medicine, not that it helped much, Law still struggled immensely. So, seeing him asleep in that redhead’s bed was surprising, and not in a good way; just who was this guy, and why was Law comfortable enough to fall asleep in his bed when he struggled to sleep in his own? When Law disappeared into his room, Corazon turned back to his work, but his mind was still occupied, because well, it was rare for Law to see a guy more than once. Corazon wasn’t new to how Law got around, and he was fine with it, as long as Law kept safe, but typically, a hookup was a one-time thing, Law wasn’t someone who was interested in the same person for too long.
In his room, Law dropped onto his bed, letting out a sigh, followed by a yawn. When he felt his bed dip, he sat up, “hi, Bepo, how’s my baby?” he cooed, pulling the polar bear cub into his arms– yes, they were that rich, that for Law’s birthday, Corazon got him a baby polar bear as a gift. Illegal? Yes. adorable? Fuck yes! Law was toying with Bepo’s ears and petting him, and it was then that a thought that he had been trying to put off came crawling back. “Why did I say yes?” he asked Bepo, toying with his ears. Truth to be told, Law didn’t know why he said yes to a date with Kid– it wasn’t like Corazon would approve, but even then, Law’s standards were so much higher than some punk mechanic who lived with three roommates and ate cold pizza. Law always put himself on a pedestal, he was untouchable, unreachable, so damn desirable, settling was the one thing he didn’t do. He had grown up with countless people, men, women, neither, and in between trailing after him, begging him for a chance; as a kid he had playground notes of “I have a crush on you”, as a teenager he had countless prom invitations all thrown in the trash, and now, as an adult, constant desperate attempts for his attention. But no one ever stuck, they were all tryhards, and more importantly, ran the other way with their tail between their legs the second they laid eyes on either Doflamingo or Corazon, but Law cut them some slack, no one wanted to end up as a torso in the river, now did they?
But why Kid? He was everything Corazon warned him about: brash, aggressive with bad habits, shitty living conditions, with equally shitty friends. Kid smelled like beer, nicotine, metal and car oil. He wore tattered clothes that dragged on the floor when he walked, and chains that made him sound like machinery when he moved. Every other word out of his mouth was a cuss word, he had no impulse control and was messy (seriously, his room was putrid). There wasn’t a thing about Kid that was good, not a thing that Law could show off, especially in front of Corazon– but now, he had a date. Saturday, 8 p.m., in front of the Donquixote estate.
Kid
Saturday, 8 p.m., in front of the Donquixote estate. Ah fuck, this was actually fucking happening. Killer had forced Heat and Wire into helping Kid get ready for a date, a date which was the nicest “restaurant” that Kid could actually afford (which basically meant that it was a restaurant that Law wouldn’t even spit in). Kid’s idea of a date typically was a metal show followed by vomiting from the mosh pit, but he couldn’t even imagine Law in such a circle, so he actually followed Killer’s advice. That was why he was standing at the gate of the Donquixote estate in a simple black t-shirt (“no Slayer shirts” Killer had said), his cargo pants and boots. His only jewelry was a chain around his neck, not heavy spikes or clanking metal– oh, and his makeup was minimal too. Wire had kindly done his makeup, light brown eyeliner and very light red lipstick, no heavy black liner and lipstick so red it could’ve been blood. Kid didn’t feel like himself as he double triple quadruple checked the address as if the monument of a mansion wasn’t obvious in front of him. He sighed, wiping at his face in pure, unbridled anxiety, stuttering around the gates, his hand refusing to press the buzzer. “Come on, stop being a bitch!” he hissed to himself, practically punching the buzzer, trying to gas himself up.
There was a short spark of static, “can I help you?”
Fuck! “Y-yeah, I’m here for Trafalgar– uh, Law, we have uh… we’re hanging out.”
“With Law?”
Kid’s heart skipped a beat, “yes.”
There was some rustling and unintelligible conversation before the buzzer loudly beeped and the large gates began to retract, “come on in, Dellinger will wait with you while Law comes down.”
Dellinger, Kid repeated in his head as he began to walk down the large garden-like entrance way, the gravel crackling under his boots. The mansion was something Kid would see on TV, never in real life; it looked like it could be a museum, and Law just… lived here? Suddenly, Kid wondered what he must have thought walking into Kid’s bungalow that he shared with three other people. In front of the mansion’s main entrance, in between the marble columns, stood a blonde teenager in a white baseball cap with horns, who waved at Kid like they had been best friends for life. “Hey, are you–”
“Dellinger! I’ll wait with you inside while he gets ready.”
Kid followed Dellinger inside, feeling his breath get stuck in his throat as they walked through the hallway that led to massive bronzed double doors, and when Dellinger pushed one open, they were in the foyer. The foyer was two stories high with a stained glass skylight, the moonlight wasn’t visible, not with the chandelier (that was probably bigger than Kid’s entire bedroom) that was hung from the middle of it. Dellinger’s heels clicked against the marble floor as he led Kid past the wooden, spiral stairway and to another set of doors. This time, the doors were white with slits of glass, and Dellinger dragged the door to the side, walking inside. There was a large circular tea table that looked like it was made of pearl, with matching chairs. Dellinger took a seat on top of the table, looking Kid up and down. This is so awkward. Kid wanted to just go home, to admit defeat and cry himself to sleep for making a clown of himself.
Not that he could, because the door slid open again, “Eustass-ya,” Kid could’ve sworn he broke his neck from how fast he turned around, “come on, let’s go.” Bored as always, Law was in a white tank top, his tan lines of wearing a t-shirt visible along his tattoos, with the same flared jeans and heeled boots. It felt unfair, Kid had worked his ass off to look different, to look better for their actual first date, but Law was wearing basically the exact same shit as always! He didn’t wait for Kid to follow him, instead walking out of the tea room, as Kid practically ran after him after mumbling a vague thanks to Dellinger. When Dellinger wished them a good time on their date, Law flipped him off without looking, instead leading Kid down a different hallway. This hallway led to a staircase that went to the underground garage, and Law stopped at a completely different car, a pink Lamborghini Revuelto. “Geek out if you want,” Law said with a subtle smile, unlocking it.
A fucking Lamborghini Revuelto. Kid couldn’t fucking believe it, “and I thought your Audi was insane. Do you have any idea what a monster this is? She’s a V12 hybrid monster! We're talking 6.5 liter aspirated V12, plus three electric motors!” He excitedly ran a hand along the top of the car, “holy shit, she’s slick, the whole body’s just screaming downforce, she can go from zero to sixty in less than five seconds!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Law tossed the key at Kid, “you gonna drive it or what?”
Kid must have heard that wrong, “m-me?” when Law nodded, Kid shook his head right back, “L-Law, I can’t– this… this isn’t a car, this is… this is like, a fuckin’ jet, I can’t–”
“You don’t expect me to drive myself to my first date, do you?” The little shit. He leaned over the roof of the car, the same glazed look of boredom in his eyes as he watched Kid stutter and fumble with the key, “come on, it doesn’t bite, Eustass-ya, it’s a fucking car.” He snapped, opening the door and sliding inside, slamming it shut.
For a few seconds, Kid pondered his options. The safe choice (Killer in a halo and wings on his right shoulder) was to politely decline, explain that driving a luxury car he didn’t own was too big of a responsibility, and offer to pay for an Uber instead, which would probably lead to Law laughing at him and never calling again. The dangerous choice (Heat and Wire in devil horns on his left shoulder) was to get in, ride that beautiful beast until the tank read ‘E’, which would get him both the experience of driving a Lamborghini and get him laid. “Fuck.” he groaned, opening the driver’s door and getting in.
Chapter Text
The second Kid slid into the driver’s seat, it felt like he’d always meant to be there, his fingers hovered over the red flip up ignition cover like it was a launch switch to a NASA rocket. He clicked it on and his breath jumped in his throat on beat, the engine was quiet but Kid could feel it in his chest, and he smiled wide. Kid engaged the first gear and maybe his hands were shaking a bit, but hey, actually pulling out of the garage’s door that was sliding open made up for it. The acceleration was almost life changing, something he would write about for decades; he was so absorbed by the driving that he missed Law reaching over and connecting his phone to the stereo, and pressing a button that made the top of the car retract. The wind was cold as Kid pressed the pedal further and further down as they got to the highway. For a second, just a split one, the world stopped existing; no shop, no tools, no grease under his chipped nails. He was so glad he’d left his goggles behind, the wind felt right in his hair, he belonged in this car. Kid looked over to get a glance at Law, certain that he looked like God under the passing streetlights– “Law what the fuck?!” he shouted, almost losing control over the wheel.
Law, like a madman, was perched on the edge of the door, the wind tangling his black locks around the gold of his earrings. He clung to the headrest with one hand, the other was wrapped around the thin edge of the windshield. “Shut up, I love this song. If you slow down I’ll make sure you end up dead.” His voice was loud but it was barely audible over the sound of the car’s engine and highway. He tilted his head back, his eyes half-lid like he was on ecstasy, he looked the same as he did in Kid’s bed.
Kid should’ve slowed down, it was the right thing to do, the decision that didn’t end as a hospital visit or a headline on the news. But he had never been interested in ‘doing the right thing’, that was Killer’s game. Kid was sharp edges, rust and bad ideas. Reason wasn’t exactly his forte, so he pressed further against the gas pedal, speeding up as much as he could.
The music, whatever the hell it was, pounded against the sound of the wind. It wasn’t something Kid would’ve picked, he was more of a puke punk, Misfits and Megadeth guy; and it definitely wasn’t what he imagined Law would listen to, he thought Law was a string quartets, violins and shit, music that would play in the Victorian era, shit that you had to listen with your hands in your lap and your mouth shut. Not this, not rave music, it was shit Wire would play in the shower, the type of shit that made your head hurt. But Law knew every beat, he was acting like the music was in his veins, and Kid understood that, whenever he was at a punk show, he could swear the music was playing in his ribs, not out of the speakers on stage.
Law was making him crazy, and he fucking loved it.
When they actually hit the downtown area, Law sat back in his seat, ignoring his seatbelt, as Kid noted. He was like a teenager, constantly looking for rules to break; Kid was the same, but he broke the rules because he was a punk, not an edgy little rich brat. That’s a compliment of course! “Hey, Trafalgar?” he started, his eyes wandering over to Law, who was blissfully unaware, looking up at the skyscrapers and streetlights, and when he hummed in acknowledgement, Kid continued, “why not your Audi? Is it broken?”
“Nah,” Law dismissed, changing the song, “I just like stealing Doflamingo’s car.”
“What?!” Kid practically swerved to an empty parking spot on the side of the road to safely slam the brakes, “are you fucking crazy?! I’ve been driving fucking Doflamingo’s car this whole time?!” Kid wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be angry, scared, or impressed, maybe all three.
Law gave him a look of disappointment, “do you honestly think I’d ever drive a car this color? It’s fucking hideous, only he likes this color,” he leaned back in his seat, “now, stop talking about him, I wanna see where you have picked out.”
Kid’s ears flushed red, and he changed gears, carefully backing out of the parking spot, now going at playground speed considering whose car they were in. “It’s um… the best place I know.” It was nice enough that Killer, Wire and Heat had pooled in money to help Kid afford a dinner at a decent enough restaurant, but even then, given Law’s ridiculous wealth, nothing would impress him, nothing could. He pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant, and before he could start justifying that this was all he could afford, Law cut him off by quickly getting out of the car.
“Baratie?” he said, his tone almost in disbelief, “you eat here?”
“Is it that bad?”
Law shook his head, “I used to come here when I was a kid,” he said, and for a split second, Kid could have sworn he saw Law’s eyes well up. They must have, because Law quickly shook his head and grabbed Kid by the wrist, “come on.”
The atmosphere of a restaurant wasn’t something Kid ever paid attention to because well, he was there to stuff his face, but suddenly, all the little details were becoming significant to him. “So, since you used to come here–”
He was cut off as soon as they sat down, Law grabbed the utensils wrapped in a napkin and removed the fork, holding it out threateningly towards Kid, “I’m gonna ask you a question, answer it honestly or I’ll kill you.”
Kid wanted to laugh. Law’s instant reflex was to threaten people’s lives whenever he wanted something, didn’t he? He was like a spoiled little kid, not a top medical student, “sure, I’ll amuse you,” Kid said with a smirk, taking a seat across from Law, “what’s your question, Trafalgar?”
“Why are you dressed that way?” When Kid raised a brow-bone in confusion, Law used the fork to gesture at him, “boring. You look boring.”
Well shit, Kid was actually surprised. People usually glared at him for not looking normal, for being too fiery, spiked hair and bright red lipstick made him an ‘eyesore’. “... well I… I wasn’t sure what to wear. I didn’t… I didn’t want to look stupid.” It was taking a lot of guts for Kid to admit vulnerability, it was something only Killer usually saw. It was just so easy with Law, wait, there was definitely a term for it; when cops stayed silent so the suspect spewed out more information to avoid the silence. Was Law playing some kind of 4D chess to get Kid to open up? Or was he just bored with the conversation? He was so fucking hard to read. Kid watched in curiosity as Law reached over to the ketchup bottle in the condiment basket, uncapping it and squirting some onto his fingertip, “what are you–” he was interrupted when Law reached over the table and smudged the ketchup onto his lips.
“There, now you look like Eustass Kid.”
He couldn’t bite back a smile, the savory taste of ketchup getting into his mouth.
After they’d eaten (which was also when Kid learned that Law hated bread, like, an abnormal amount), their waiter brought their check, to which Kid offered to pay for, even though really, Law was way more financially capable of paying. Shit, just a meal of chicken, fish and some onigiri ran Kid half of his fucking rent, but he tried not letting it show as he walked out of the restaurant, “so, wanna come back to my place?”
Law laughed– like, actually laughed, not just a smirk or a smug scoff, he laughed and Kid felt his heart drop into his stomach, his pale skin really wasn’t good at hiding how flushed he typically got. His laugh sounded like straight heaven, his voice was dry and airy, “go home with you? No way, the most I’m giving you is head, and even that’s not guaranteed.” he said sarcastically, opening the passenger door and getting inside.
With a frustrated growl, Kid got into the driver’s seat, “quit playing hard to get, Trafalgar, how many other hookups have taken you out on a date?”
“Mmm, well they’ve tried, it’s just that they end up dead because Cora-san thinks shitty walks in the park aren’t good enough for me,” he said, fastening his seatbelt and putting his head against the headrest, “Eustass-ya, take me home.”
Okay, okay, listen. Realistically, Kid shouldn’t have been expecting any kind of quickie or head in Doflamingo’s car after a dinner date, but man was he hoping that he would get something. Kid continued thinking as he watched Law put his legs up onto the dashboard, his boots scraping up the vinyl. Well, maybe it was better that there be no sexual interaction between them for the night, and while it wasn’t like Kid was a rational person, but hey, he was arrogant, he wasn’t stupid. He was playing it smart! If he got some kind of head or fuck or whatever, Law could chalk their entire relationship to only a hookup and nothing more; but now, Kid had taken him to an actual date, in an actual restaurant, and was expecting nothing in return! How noble! He backed out of the parking lot, and just before he could pull into the street, Kid caught sight of a familiar woman with green hair, but he shook it off.
Kid pulled into the driveway of the Donquixote Estate, and was about to take the car into the garage, but Law waved him off, "just leave it here, Vergo'll take care of it." He said, unfastening his seatbelt and getting out, "night." He said with that same bored tone he always had. Call it arrogance, call it selfishness, call it balls of steel, whatever, but Kid really wanted something out of this, out of Law, so he quickly got out, following him up to the grand gate and grabbing him by the wrist. He yanked Law back, snaking his other arm around his waist and pulling him in until their chests touched. Killer was so gonna be pissed, but who fucking cares? Kid closed the space between them, tilting Law back and kissing him with more passion than he'd ever shown in the past, like if he let go, Law would vanish into thin air.
The little shit clearly didn't mind, not from the way he was kissing back, grabbing a hold of Kid's built jaw and tilting his head to deepen the kiss. He honestly could have, and would have just fucked Kid right there on the gravel pavement of the estate's entrance, but his heart skipped a beat when he heard what sounded like a subtle tap against glass. He pulled back, turning to look at the entrance doors with paranoia, the glint of red-tinted shades was visible.
"You okay?"
He whipped back around, taking a step back, pulling out of Kid's embrace, "um... yeah, I... I'll um... bye." he quickly turned on his heel, yanking open the gate and practically running inside, leaving Kid with only a confused daze and smudged lipstick.
Kid watched him disappear into the estate with a concerned look, the way he practically switched personalities was weird, but Kid was learning to just roll with it.
Chapter Text
Doflamingo being angry was a pretty freaky sight because it was the only time he stopped smiling. So, Law knew he was in deep shit when as soon as Kid left, the double front doors clicked open, and the man’s large figure was towering behind him. Seriously? The freak was just waiting behind the doors? “And who was that who just kissed you like that?” Law turned on his heel, nonchalantly pushing past Doflamingo, even though his heart was hammering in his throat and against his ears, he would never let that monster see him scared. There was only one thing that Doflamingo hated more than mint chocolate chip ice cream, and it was being ignored; but he should’ve gotten used to it by now, especially from Law. “I’m talking to you, brat.” Apparently not though, because as soon as Law heard Doflamingo turn an inch, he began to run, his heeled boots clicking loudly as he booked it towards the stairs, only making it a few steps up the stairs before Doflamingo grabbed him by the ankle, yanking him back. Law hit the cold marble floor with a hard thud, his scapula and shoulder taking the hit as he rolled onto his front. He held onto his shoulder, quickly crawling to his knees to run up the stairs, but Doflamingo grabbed him again, this time by the back of his neck, his large hand wrapping around Law’s neck almost entirely.
“I said,” he seethed, bringing Law up to his eye level, speaking through grit teeth, his saliva landing on Law’s face, “I’m talking to you, brat.” He let go, dropping Law on the ground, where the back of his head hit the edge of the steps, “my idiot brother might not care or even be aware of what a whore he’s raising, but it’s my reputation on the line,” he pressed his foot onto Law’s chest, stopping him from getting up, or moving at all, “I won’t let you ruin my name because you want to steal my car and let some lowlife drive it to some shithole and back.” Law was clawing at his ankle, trying to get him off, but it did very little. Doflamingo only pulled back when he saw a streak of red drip down his nose, maybe he held onto his neck a little too tightly. “That loser’s little antic at the club was funny, but if I see him here again, I’ll kill him and you.”
Law watched Doflamingo strut away through his blurred vision, and no, he wasn’t crying, his tear ducts were just reacting to the suffocation and (probably) brain damage. “Bitch…” he spat, grabbing onto the railing with shaky hands and hauling himself up. It was too easy, Doflamingo never gave up after only a few minutes, if he was pissed off, Law wouldn’t see the end of it until Rosinante got home. He limped towards the guest bedroom he stayed in when at the Donquixote estate, clicking the door shut; no locks, only Doflamingo got a lock on his door. He dropped onto the bed, pulling off his boots one by one. He was just about to take off his shirt to examine the damage of a man triple his size stepping on him (and thinking it’s the funniest shit ever), when he heard the door open.
The knocks on the door were too calm to be anyone Heat knew, maybe that pretty blonde guy got lost looking for Bartholomew’s house again. He begrudgingly got up from the couch, grumbling about how it was three in the morning and how he had to go to work in four hours. “Yeah?” he yanked open the rusted front door, the sleep flushing right out of him when he saw– “Jesus, the fuck happened to you?” Law was in a large hoodie, way too big to have been fashionably oversized, and basketball shorts. But that wasn’t what caught Heat off guard, it was the fact that Law was basically black and blue, with a busted lip, bleeding nose and developing bruises on his hands, knees and neck. When he got no response, Heat started to rub the back of his neck awkwardly, “uh… Kid’s sleeping. You can come in if you want.” He watched Law walk– or well, limp inside, before disappearing into Kid’s bedroom.
Kid woke up when he felt rustling and the weight of his bed dipped, and figured it was Killer having night terrors again, so he shifted as he lifted his arm, as Killer tended to sleep with his head against his chest. But to his surprise, he wasn’t met with the usual massive, tangled mess of blonde locks and scarred arms, instead, Kid smelled a familiar scent, “Trafalgar?” Law’s scent was mixed with a musky cologne, not one he recognized, “what the hell are you–” he was cut off when Law kissed him, residue of blood getting into Kid’s mouth. Under normal circumstances, Kid would’ve loved nothing more than to make out with Law, but given that he was half asleep and could taste blood, even his dick was calling it quits. “Trafalgar–” he tried to nudge Law away, but the little shit was being persistent, grabbing Kid’s wrist and continuing the kiss, “Law, get the fuck off.” Kid shoved Law off, causing him to fall off of the bed and onto the floor, landing on the pile of discarded laundry and guitar picks. “What the hell is wrong with you?!” he reached over to his Freddy Krueger lamp, fumbling around until he found the switch, turning it on.
The light didn’t offer much illumination, it was very dim, but it was enough for Kid to see Law on the ground, wiping at the saliva and blood on his mouth, “I wanna fuck, right now.” He got up and rolled up his sleeves, missing the way Kid’s browbones furrowed at the sight of suspiciously fingertip shaped bruising on his wrists and forearms, “you’ve spent all week stalking me and wasting my time, the least you can do is fuck me.”
Kid couldn’t believe his ears, “I’m not fucking you right now,” he said firmly, shuffling out of his blanket to get up, “I haven’t been stalking you either, we went on a date–”
“If you’re stupid enough to pass up on a chance to fuck me, you’re dumber than I thought,” Law spat, reaching for the doorknob, “I’ll just find some other lonely, poor bastard to have sex with, since you’ve ran your course.”
“Ran my course?” Kid parroted in confusion and offense, reaching to put his hand on Law’s shoulder, but that was clearly the wrong choice, because Law flinched and smacked his hand away almost reflexively. So, Kid backed up, giving Law as much space as his dingy room allowed, “you think this, me and you, is just a hookup?”
There was a moment of silence between them, and Law could tell that Kid was begging for him to say no. “You… you think, what? That I’d take your hand and waltz into the family boasting about you being my boyfriend? That this would end with us getting married? You’re a fucking idiot, Eustass-ya. Yes, this was just a fucking hookup. I’m Trafalgar fucking Law, I’m gonna be the next Corazon, and you think I’d settle?!” He pulled up the hoodie, revealing his abdomen, where under the tattoos and vitiligo, Kid could see clear bruising on his ribs and stomach, even in the dim lighting, “this is what I get. Not because I stole his car, not because I snuck out. No, this is what I get for going out with you.” It wasn’t Law’s intention to rat himself out on who had put him in that state, but it was too little too late.
“Tra… Law,” he started with a sigh, slowly sitting down on the beanbag chair in the corner of the room, running a hand through his dyed hair. He was getting deja vu of sitting on the swings with Killer when they were both fifteen, when Killer opened up to him about his homelife, how “stealing food gave him a black eye”. He tried to think back to what he had said to Killer, if he could recycle anything, but he was drawing blanks. He couldn’t remember what he had told Killer, but he did remember what Killer had said. Just hug me, I haven’t seen gentle in years. He leaned back, opening up his arms, “come here,” Law seemed confused at first, and wasn’t moving, like how a deer froze up when it was sure that it heard the cocking of a gun, “Law, I’m not him.” It was a good thing that Law started to take careful steps forward, right? When he sat down on Kid’s lap, he closed his arms around him, with enough room to nonverbally signal see? You can leave whenever you want to Law. To his surprise though, Law didn’t break down into hysterical sobs like Kid had seen in movies, he didn’t even shed a tear, he was just sitting there, his head under Kid’s chin and tucked into the crook of his neck.
They had sat in silence long enough that Kid’s legs had fallen asleep, but he didn’t let go, only following Law’s breathing, listening to it go from ragged pants to calm exhales, like he was sleeping. He wasn’t though, because Kid could feel him blinking. “Why don’t you tell Corazon? He’s like your uh… dad or whatever, right?”
Law pulled back, adjusting himself so his two legs were on either side of Kid’s lap, “it wouldn’t do anything but make him worry. Doffy’s the head of the family, the- the one in charge, the big bully. If Cora-san found out, he’d either get himself hurt or killed, so it’s better that he doesn’t know.”
“So how do you explain these?” Kid gestured at the bruising on Law’s inked skin.
With a shrug, Law began to toy with the collar of Kid’s Megadeth shirt, picking at the frayed strings, “I just tell him it was a hookup gone wrong.”
Kid wondered if the very first time Law gave him head in the club’s bathroom was just a setup, to have an explanation for Doflamingo’s upcoming beating. Wait, could Law predict when Doflamingo was mad enough to hit him, or was it a spontaneous thing? He had more questions than answers, but figured that pestering Law with them wasn’t a good idea. He was pulled out of his thoughts when Law got off. “Where are you going?”
“Home,” Law muttered, adjusting his hoodie before heading for the door.
Before he could leave though, Kid quickly got up, “Trafalgar,” he started, stopping him by taking a hold of his wrist, “are we just a hookup?”
Law didn’t answer, he just pulled away from Kid’s grip, before stepping out of the room and closing the door behind him.
The next morning, Kid woke up only because Killer was nudging him sternly, “it’s my day off, the fuck is wrong with you?” he groaned, trying to shove the blonde away, but to no avail.
“Corazon’s in our living room, he wants to talk to you.”