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When Law told Kid to “suck my dick, asshole,” he hadn’t meant it literally. It wasn’t a come-on, or a flirt, or even a challenge. Leave it to Kid to take it as one anyway.
“Hah, as if,” was Kid’s response, “what a fuckin’ waste of time that would be. I know a string bean like you’s got a dick like a chopstick. I don’t feel like playing ‘thirty seconds in heaven’ with you, Trafalgar.”
“Thirty seconds, huh? Is that the longest you can go, Eustass-ya?” The blush that erupted on Kid’s face had been pretty funny, at the time. He sputtered out some retort, as always, and that should have been the end of it. Maybe it would have been, if they hadn’t nearly died defeating Big Mom together only a few days ago. If they hadn’t risked their lives for one another. If Law hadn’t cared for him in the days that followed, patching up his wounds and mopping up his blood when he was unconscious after the battle.
But he had, they had, and now he’s being smothered against Kid’s shitty leather couch as he ravages Law’s mouth. Kid kisses the way Law knew he would; rough and biting, like he has something to prove. It’s an energy that he has no problem matching. He grabs Kid’s hair and yanks him closer, bites him harder, pushes his tongue into Kid’s mouth and tries to choke him with it before he can force him back out.
“Didn’t bring you here jus’ to kiss", he mutters out when they separate, but Law catches the way Kid grinds his hips down when he starts mouthing at his throat. “What am I, your boyfriend?”
“You’re the one on top of me,” Law points out, “I didn’t put you there.” He gets a death glare in response, but Law has a hard time focusing on Kid’s eyes when he has lipstick smudged all over his mouth and down his neck. He wants to roll his eyes at the notion of Kid not even bothering to buy smudge-proof lipstick, but his dick is pleased at the sight of it. He’s plumping up in his jeans and Kid can feel it, if his growing smirk is anything to go by.
“I didn’t realize you liked me so much, Trafalgar,” Kid sneers. He rocks down harder, but Law keeps his expression stoic. He won’t give him the satisfaction. “Or are you just that much of a virgin-”
“Aren’t you supposed to be sucking my dick right now?”
“Weren’t my exact words ‘as if’?” Kid shoots back, but he’s backing up and lowering to his knees as he says it. Kid’s flesh hand wraps effortlessly around Law’s thigh as he pulls him to the edge of the couch cushion. “See how my fingers can touch, Trafalgar?” He tightens his grip when he says it, skin hot even through the denim, “that’s how much of a fuckin’ twink you are.” Law’s head swims at that, just a little, so he isn’t anticipating Kid’s fingers trailing upwards and ghosting over his bulge. The unexpected softness of the touch catches him off guard too, and he bucks against it before he can stop himself.
“Fuck off,” Law tries to keep his voice even, but it’s thickened with arousal now. “I’m not that small. You’re just freakishly large.”
“Yeah, you seem real upset about that,” Kid taunts, popping the button on his jeans. He slips his hand down the front of Law’s pants and cups him over his briefs, fingers long enough to curl over his balls and taint, all the way to his ass. It’s as if Law is sitting in the palm of his hand. The feeling has him biting his lip, heart suddenly rabbiting in his chest. “Don’t bother trying to deny it. I can feel you twitching.”
He’s right, and Law doesn’t. That massive hand is pulling his cock out now, and Law hears the familiar sound of Kid gathering spit in his mouth. It’s the quietest moment he thinks they’ve shared in all the years they’ve known each other. If someone told Law a few years ago that he would be aboard the Victoria Punk right now, with Eustass ‘Captain’ Kid kneeling between his legs, he would never have believed them. Hell, if someone told Law an hour ago-
Kid’s mouth is around him now, warm and wet and waxy, and Law stops thinking. He swirls his tongue and bobs his head, taking another inch with each pass of his lips. Law catches a glimpse of his shaft, glistening with saliva and lipstick. The sight has him panting and he tries to regulate his breathing before Kid finds something stupid to say about it.
“‘Dick like a chopstick’,” Law chuckles meanly, “isn’t that what you said earlier? If that were really the case, you’d think you could take more of it.” Kid’s glare fails yet again; he doesn’t look at all threatening with his cheeks hollowed around Law’s cock, he just looks like a slut.
His metal arm comes into play for the first time when he slings Law’s legs over his shoulders and sucks him all the way down with only the softest gag. Kid isn’t bothering to swallow any excess spit; he’s drooling endlessly around Law and the obscene sound has him thrusting up into his throat.
“I knew that mouth had to be good for something.” Kid’s metal hand tightens around his upper thigh in response, squeezing hard enough to hurt. Sharp edges cut into him through his jeans. “Fuck you,” Law grits out, “you are walking tetanus, you asshole-”
“Hah?! I keep my metal clean, dickhead,” Kid pulls off of him to say, and a flood of drool goes with it, pooling on Law’s chest. His face is an absolute mess and Law leans forward to lick into his wet mouth. Kid scoffs against his lips but kisses him back anyway, and his flesh hand moves from Law’s leg down to his own pants. Everything about Kid is big, and Law wants to see-
But then he hears the undeniable squelch of Kid’s fingers sliding in and out of his cunt. Oh. Law is a little embarrassed that it took him so long to realize. Kid does have a scarred chest, but it looks nothing like the photos of neat stitching he’s seen in textbooks. These scars are thick and jagged instead, like the ones trailing down his face and neck and across his stomach.
“Your chest- did you do it yourself?”
“Fuck no, 'M not an idiot. Killer did it,” Kid beams with pride, goofy but without his usual arrogance, and Law gives him a small smile in return. He didn’t know Kid was capable of being cute. It makes Law want to kiss him again, but Kid settles back on the floor before he can. When he looks down, Kid is still grinning at him.
“Did you just notice? What a dumbass,” he snickers, “stupid ass doctor.” He’s still fingering himself lazily, as if he isn’t also trying to pick a fight.
“Well excuse me, I just don’t spend much time looking at you.”
“Oh please Trafalgar, you’ve been staring at my tits for years.” He’s right, but Law will never admit it.
“Wow,” Law says, feigning surprise, “is that the first time you’ve ever said please?” Kid narrows his eyes at that, but Law grabs him by the hair and lowers his opening mouth onto his cock before he can respond. It’s a genius idea, really; Law can always get the last word in, as long as he keeps Kid on his knees. He can shut him up whenever he wants this way. The thought is positively euphoric.
He thinks Kid disagrees, given the way he grazes Law with his teeth and grips his thigh even harder. The sharp twinges of pain and pleasure meld together, and it rips a moan right out of his chest. It’s the first sound either of them has made other than breathing and bitching at one another. Kid is spurred back into movement and he groans around him, long and low, pumping his fingers faster inside of himself. Their usual tense rivalry morphs just the slightest bit, into something minutely sensual.
“That’s it, Eustass-ya,” Kid swallows around him, already slobbering again. He’s got Law’s dick buried deep in his throat, and he’s so wet that Law can hear him pull his fingers out to rub his clit. He suddenly wants to know what Kid tastes like, wants to feel that drenched cunt against his mouth, wants to fucking eat him.
“Touch yourself faster, Eustass-ya,” Law murmurs, massaging Kid’s scalp with his fingertips and grinding his hips against his mouth. “Harder.” If Kid wasn’t chasing an orgasm, he surely would have had something to say about Law making demands. He complies instead, brows furrowing, hand speeding up, breath coming in quicker as he does. Law can almost hear him say ‘I was gonna do that anyway, jackass’. Kid loses his rhythm as he gets closer, mouth going slack and slowing around him, but Law doesn’t mind dragging things out.
Kid whines as he comes, and the vibration nearly sends Law over the edge. Law pulls him off of his cock and into a desperate kiss. Kid is a more agreeable kisser now; less teeth and a more submissive tongue as he works himself through his orgasm, and Law loses himself in the feeling of it. Kid’s flesh hand leaves his pants to cup Law’s cheek, then wanders up to thread fingers through his hair. He leaves a slick trail everywhere he touches.
“Did you just get your cum,” Law hisses, “in my hair?”
“Hah, guess I did. It suits you- better than that stupid fuckin’ hat, at least.” Kid’s speech is slurred and thick, still dripping with arousal, and still fucking annoying. “Whatcha gonna do about it?”
“What am I- you-” Law stutters when Kid wraps that same slick palm around him, stroking him at an unforgiving pace, “fuck you.”
“Two good ideas in one night, Trafalgar? 'M impressed,” Kid mocks. Shit. He hadn’t meant it that way, dammit! “Now fuck me, or get the fuck out.”
Law considers his options for a moment. He could try and call Kid on his bluff, but does he really want to get his ass thrown out of the Victoria Punk with an aching hard-on? He wouldn’t put it past Kid to do just that.
“Tch, fine ,” he tuts, pointedly ignoring the way his cock jumps at Kid’s demand, “anything to shut you up.” Kid’s hand is back in his hair then, yanking him off the couch and onto the floor. Law is on top of him now, arms bracketing Kid’s head, and he wonders how it’s possible to be so irritated with someone while also needing to be inside of them so badly.
“Figured we’d be better off on the floor,” Kid says, “don’t wanna get the couch all gross.”
“Oh, I see; so you can gunk up my hair all you want, but you can’t bear the thought of your dingy-ass couch getting dirty?”
“Obviously.” Honestly, if Kid hadn’t insisted that he fuck him, Law would probably kill him. He kisses him instead, heated, angrily, and ‘room’s their pants off so he doesn’t have to move away. Law grabs him underneath his knees and folds him in half, slides his cock through his sopping folds, rubs his clit harshly until Kid whimpers into his mouth, lines himself up and-
“Beg.” Kid is gasping for air, calves shaking around Law’s shoulders, but he’s smirking up at him like he has the upper hand somehow. “Beg to fuck my pussy Trafalgar, do it -”
Law doesn’t beg. He doesn’t even ask. He revels in the way Kid’s eyes widen when he thrusts in anyway, in the shocked moan that he forces out of him, in the hard smack that Kid delivers to his chest in return for not behaving.
In the way that Kid is cursing and coming again, so soon after his first, pulsating around him as soon as he bottoms out.
“Beg?” Law murmurs into his ear. “You must be joking.” Curiously, there’s no snappy retort from Kid this time; just labored breathing and little punched out noises, sweet and almost sing-songy in nature. Nothing at all like the hotheaded demeanor Law is used to. It has him throbbing. Feral. He wants to make him cry. He sucks and bites Kid’s neck until the skin blooms purple, keeping him pressed into the rug with firm hands on his shoulders. And Kid takes what he’s given, even tilts his head to give him better access, rolling his hips down to meet his thrusts.
Law brings a hand down to where they’re connected, where Kid is absolutely soaked, and gets his fingers nice and slippery. He uses them to start stroking Kid’s clit again and he knows it’s too soon, feels it in the way Kid yelps and tightens around him like a vice as soon as he makes contact. His last orgasm has barely passed, but Law is going to send him careening into a third. He looks up at Kid, wants to watch his mouth fall open and his eyes well up with tears-
He’s met with a stupid, smug grin instead. Kid is trembling, glistening with sweat, eyes practically rolling into the back of his head, but he’s still looking at Law like he knows something he doesn’t.
And then one of Kid’s fingers is pushing inside of him.
“Fuck.” When did Kid’s hand get back there? When did he slick up his fingers?
“Oh, sorry,” Kid coos mockingly, “did you want me to ask first?” This wasn’t part of Law’s plan. The plan was to take control, to win , but now Kid is jabbing his prostate and it’s impossible to stop the whimper before it falls from his lips. His rhythm falters as Kid skillfully pumps his finger, then adds another, and the feeling of that stretch nearly ruins Law’s night. It’s incredible, so much thicker than fingers should be, threatening to bring out a side of him that he only lets out when he’s alone in his bed. “Had a feeling you’d be a size queen. I bet you could even take three.” He taps Law’s hole with the third, but doesn’t put it in. It still makes him jolt.
“Easily,” Law grits out, fucking Kid harder, circling his clit with more insistence, so desperate to make Kid submit again that he doesn’t even realize that his come back isn’t much of one at all.
“I’ve got dildos bigger than your forearm,” Kid says, throat clicking and full of drool, “Gonna fuck you next time.”
“Yeah,” Law agrees, lost in the sensation of his cock dragging against the inner walls of Kid’s pussy, of his own hole clenching around those fingers, of Kid’s tongue tracing his collarbones, “next time.” He doesn’t process the words until they’ve already left his mouth. ‘Next time’ hadn’t occurred to him. He’s never slept with the same person twice. He can tell himself that it means nothing, but it does mean something; to be this vulnerable in front of someone, and then be willing to do it again. To Law, one-and-done is so much simpler.
“M’ close, fuck me harder, come on,” Kid is practically slamming his hips down now, clamping down on Law so hard when he comes that Law is suddenly about to follow him over the edge.
“Where-”
“Inside,” Kid groans. Maybe the doctor in Law should ask if he’s sure, but the whore in him is pumping Kid full of cum as soon as he’s given the go-ahead. And Kid kisses him, squeezes him, milks him through his orgasm until they’re both shaking with overstimulation.
But there are still no tears in Kid’s eyes.
When they finally pull out of each other, Kid practically melts into the floor. He’s a puddle of loose limbs, panting, hair clinging to his forehead, lipstick everywhere. He’s trying to recover. Law doesn’t give him the chance. He wrenches Kid’s thighs apart and leans down to taste him.
“No no no, no fucking way Trafalgar. I can’t. I can’t come again. I can’t -!” He buries his tongue in Kid’s cunt, moaning when he tastes them both, and busies himself with cleaning Kid out. It isn’t something he’s done before, or something he thought he would be this into. But he would do anything to make Kid cry. Kid has every ability to stop him if he really wants to, but the way he’s nearly crushing him with his thighs and trapping him in place conveys the exact opposite.
Law has seen Kid in a debauched state before; drunk, high, covered in blood. He’s seen him vulnerable; arm gone, stump gushing across the operating room floor of the Polar Tang, so close to death that Law couldn’t even put him under before trying to save his life. Law can handle the blood, and he can handle the violence.
He’s not sure he can handle knowing what Kid’s pussy tastes like, though. Knowing what sweet sounds he makes when he comes. Knowing that, despite normally being so hot headed and easily flustered, Kid is completely shameless and unabashed when it comes to sex. Just a tiny bit alluring even, after a couple orgasms. It feels like forbidden knowledge, something that should be written on a poneglyph and hidden away so nobody else can ever read it.
How did Law end up here? What is this rivalry? What is this force, constantly attracting and repelling them from one another? Is it the Will of D.? Is it just their stupid egos?
“You can come again,” he insists, because he needs him to, “you can do it, Eustass. Come on my face.” He seals his lips around Kid’s clit, slips three fingers inside and curls them. Law sets a relentless pace. He can’t breathe and his wrist is starting to burn with overuse, but he barely notices the discomfort. He brings his free hand up to Kid’s chest, rolling a pierced nipple between tattooed fingers, and Kid’s voice somehow pitches even higher. His breath is hitching and he sniffles once, then twice-
Kid is crying. Law can’t see it, but he can hear it. It’s soft, barely there over the wet sound of Law’s fingers, and it’s the most erotic thing he’s ever heard.
“Ooooh fuck, I think 'M gonna-” Kid chokes out something akin to a sob, quivering as he squirts. Law helps him through it, sucks him harder, speeds up his movements until he’s absolutely dripping with cum. He loses his sense of time down there, practically suffocating between Kid’s thighs but content to stay there anyway. He smells sex, and he tastes sex, and he’s moaning, half-hard again, and those are the only things that matter.
“Trafalgar D. Law, drunk on pussy? Pathetic.” Kid relaxes his legs and tugs Law up by his hair, but there’s no haughtiness to his tone. It isn’t hard to figure out why, when Law gets a look at him; his eyes are glazed over, barely open, eyeliner streaming down the sides of his face and into his hair. Law brings a hand up to Kid’s face and his cock twitches with interest when he feels tears underneath his fingertips.
“So it wasn’t the worst sex I’ve ever had.” I think I might be addicted to your pussy.
“Yeah, you weren’t as bad of a lay as I thought you’d be.” I’ve never come so hard in my life.
It’s the closest they may ever come to complementing one another. They kiss again, tongues embracing without hurry. Kid’s hand travels downward, wrapping around him, bringing him off slowly. Maybe because he’s exhausted, or maybe because he wants this to last.
Law wonders how many more times they’ll both come tonight. He wonders if he’ll be able to make Kid cry again before they all leave Wano and go their separate ways. He wonders if there really will be a next time.
Despite everything, he hopes there will be.