Chapter Text
“You’re wearing make-up.” Killer couldn’t help but notice when he entered Kid’s cabin.
He’d gone without ever since his injury, at first too out of it to care and later frustrated that he wasn’t able to apply it like he wanted with just one hand.
Kid made a face. “Law may have helped.”
“Want me to do the nails?”
With one hand, that had to be an even more impossible task than the make-up, Killer thought, eyeing Kid’s nails. The old polish had chipped off almost entirely.
”You’d think Law could do it with those fucking surgeon’s hands of his but he’s useless at it,” Kid grumbled.
Killer retrieved the nail polish and other supplies before dragging a chair next to Kid’s bed. He took Kid’s hand in his gently and started removing what was left of the old polish.
“You ready to get out of bed?” Killer asked.
He knew that if it was up to Kid, he would’ve been ready days ago. Unfortunately for him, it was Law’s orders that mattered on this occasion—and the ones Killer was determined to enforce.
“Tomorrow,” Kid scoffed, switching to mimicking Law’s voice, “If you’re a good boy and rest up today.”
Killer snorted, almost spilling a drop of polish on the floor. “Guess that calls for a celebration.”
“Yeah, finally. Bring out the booze.”
Law might have something to say about that but Killer wasn’t about to ruin Kid’s mood prematurely. Instead, he focused on getting the paint job on Kid’s hand perfect.
It wasn't often that he’d done this, Kid tended to prefer doing his own hair and make-up to get it perfect, but he’d let Killer help him at times, especially when he’d been tired or in pain. Now there was much less to do and Killer spent a sentimental minute feeling sad that he’d never get to hold Kid’s other hand again. Didn’t mean he couldn’t spend double the time on this one, though.
“Maybe I’ll just stop wearing it,” Kid said, staring at Killer’s hands.
“Why?”
“So you don’t have to do this every other day.”
“I want to do it,” Killer said without pausing his work. “I like it when it’s just you and me.”
Kid made a vague sound at the statement but didn’t pursue the argument. Killer thought of suggesting he try making a bottle out of metal. With his powers, he might be able to control the brush enough to paint his nails himself if the brush had a metal handle. However, that’d mean one less task for Killer, and so he selfishly kept his mouth shut.
“What do you think?” Killer leaned back.
Kid spread his fingers wide, eyeing the nails with a look of intense concentration. “Much better than Law’s attempts.”
He then started moving his hand closer to his face—luckily Killer was fast enough to grab his wrist and stop him. “What are you doing?”
Kid grimaced. “This fucking bandage itches.”
“You’ll ruin the polish.”
“You scratch it then!”
Killer shrugged and reached for the side of Kid’s face. “Here?”
“Just a bit to the left.”
Killer knew he’d found the right spot when Kid let out an appreciative sound and tilted his head into the touch. Sometimes he resembled an overgrown dog, Killer thought fondly.
“When can you take it off?”
“Tomorrow,” Kid said, sounding a little strained.
A few times, Killer had been close to asking Law about the eye. He had to know more than he’d told Kid, at least about the likelihood of full recovery. He could admit to himself that he’d been afraid to find out the truth. Maybe it was a shitty thing to think, especially after all the people they’d killed, but Kid would never be entirely whole again and Killer thought he’d paid enough already. He should be allowed to keep the eye at least.
“You’ll be fine,” he said because he wanted to believe it too.
Kid sighed. "Law said he can get me a new eye if this one's too fucked."
”I hope he doesn't have to." It wouldn't be the same.
Killer knew he wouldn't say a thing if that happened—when it came to his own body, Kid had every right to make the decisions. If his eye turned out to be beyond help he was free to take Law up on his offer to regain full sight even if it meant Killer would be forced to stare at a stranger's eye from then on.
"At least I'd get to pick the color, right?" Kid said in an attempt to lighten the mood.
"Yeah, could be cool."
An awkward silence fell between them and Killer knew he shouldn’t have brought the topic up. All he could offer were platitudes. Fortunately, a knock on the door saved him.
“Am I interrupting something?” Law asked as he stepped in with a pile of books.
“Depends, are you here to entertain me or to nag?” Kid asked snottily.
Law narrowed his eyes. “If you had any sense of self-preservation, I wouldn’t have to nag.”
Kid turned to Killer and rolled his eyes but the moment Law sat on the bed with his books, Kid was leaning over and snatching one of them.
“What are we reading?”
“What makes you think I brought any of this for you?” Law said although he made no effort to get the book back from Kid.
“Because you love me,” Kid stated with confidence.
Law turned his head to hide his expression from both Kid and Killer. “Shut up.”
Killer took that as his cue to leave before the reading session could escalate to something he wasn’t prepared to see.
The next morning, Killer got up earlier than usual and headed for the kitchen. Kid wasn't picky about food, he'd eat almost anything and rarely complained about the taste but Killer wanted to ensure he'd have some of his favorite dishes available.
He enjoyed the early mornings, being able to work in peace while most of the crew was still asleep. Without the distractions of random people running around, using the dining table for their own projects, and stealing half of the prepped ingredients Killer was able to finish breakfast preparations in record time.
He moved on to chopping the cabbage he was planning on using for dinner, the monotony of the task allowing him perhaps too much time to get lost in his thoughts.
Lamenting the possible fate of Kid's injured eye, the loss of his arm, the bloodlust he felt when he thought of Shanks and his crew…he unconsciously increased the speed of his knife until the chop, chop, chop of the cabbage turned into vicious cursing as the blade bit deep into his finger.
Killer stared at the wound, blood oozing out and dripping on the freshly cut cabbage and turning it crimson. It was bleeding too heavily to immediately assess the damage, not that Killer was too worried about it, regardless. It was nothing compared to what Kid had gone through.
"Killer! What are you doing?!" Ikkaku exclaimed, hurrying from the door to Killer's side.
"Cooking."
"Come here," she ordered, pulling him to the sink to wash off the blood.
Afterward, she wrapped a clean kitchen towel around his hand before starting to wipe the blood off the counter.
"You don't have to do that," Killer said.
"Better to do it now before it dries up," she insisted, dunking all of the cabbage in the sink to be rinsed off.
"I'm usually better at handling knives," he pointed out awkwardly—he didn't want her to think he was a total klutz.
She snorted. "I know, I've seen you fight. You must've been distracted, it's a big day today, right? Still, you should be more careful."
"You don't think it's a bad omen?" Killer asked, staring at the light blue cloth of the towel that was slowly turning red.
Ikkaku turned to him with a serious expression. "There's no such thing."
"I hope you're right."
"For what it's worth," she said, taking Killer's hand between hers, "I think he's going to be fine. Law's been thinking of ways to distract him from his misery."
"I don't need to know that."
"I'm not talking about anything sexual, dumbass! At least he doesn't share that stuff with me."
"Right," he replied.
Ikkaku peeled the towel off and leaned close to inspect the damage. Her hands were tiny compared to Killer's and much softer, their touch on his skin more distracting than the pain.
"It doesn't need stitches but I should disinfect it before we put a bandage on it," Ikkaku said.
"I need to start cooking the pancakes," Killer protested. He'd had worse cuts than this that had healed on their own.
Ikkaku raised her eyebrows. "Then you better come with me immediately."
"Yes, ma'am."
After providing first aid, Ikkaku insisted on assisting Killer with the breakfast. Although he was perfectly capable of finishing the task himself, he voiced no objections. Anything to spend more time in her company, especially now that they'd be parting ways soon once Law determined Kid was well enough to leave in the hands of someone else.
Truthfully, Law could've taken his crew and left days ago but Killer wasn't going to point that out. He understood the need to hover and fuss over Kid better than anyone.
"Give it here," Ikkaku said as Killer's first pancake predictably turned out asymmetrical and a little burnt.
"The second one's gonna be better."
"Who cares? Let's not waste food."
With a shrug, Killer obliged, sliding the pancake on her plate. He'd been planning on eating it himself, he rarely threw food out unless it was beyond salvaging.
She poured a generous amount of honey on top before cutting into the pancake. After the first bite, she made an appreciative sound.
"You really can cook."
Killer was glad he was wearing his mask because he could feel his face flush at the compliment. "It's just a pancake."
"A damn delicious one!"
His second attempt was much more aesthetically pleasing and Ikkaku happily accepted when he offered it to her. The scent of cooking was bound to lure more people in sooner or later but Killer hadn’t expected Kid to be the first one.
He tended to sleep late but clearly, he’d been eager to get out of bed the second Law allowed it and marched into the kitchen with so much energy it was as if he hadn’t been injured at all. Predictably, Law followed a few seconds later, yawning and looking like he’d barely slept at all.
“Food,” Kid declared, picking up an empty plate and holding it out to Killer.
“What do we say when we want something?” Ikkaku admonished with a stern look.
“Huh?” Kid turned to her, seeming to only now notice her presence, and then looked at Killer questioningly, not knowing how to react to being scolded like a child.
“She’s saying you’ve got shit manners,” Law explained as if he was any better.
Kid barked out a laugh. “Well, she ain’t wrong. Gimme food, Killer.”
Killer shook his head, unable to keep a fond smile from his face. Knowing the way Kid had grown up, he could hardly fault him for being a stranger to the word please, especially when he knew from experience Kid was better at expressing himself through actions than words. Watching him demolish a giant pile of pancakes with honey and strawberries was enough of a compliment on Killer’s cooking skills.
Killer was in a generous enough mood that he made a plate for Law as well without having to be asked. The portion was about ten times smaller than Kid’s but Law never ate a lot and Killer agreed with Ikkaku, there was no point in wasting food.
Kid took both of the plates and carried them to the table where Law was already absorbed in his notebook and barely acknowledged the plate set in front of him.
“I can take over,” Ikkaku offered after her third plate. “You deserve to eat too.”
Usually, Killer waited till everyone else was done and he had half a mind to decline—technically, Ikkaku was a guest on their ship, after all.
As if sensing his hesitation, she offered him a mischievous smile. “Please.”
“Alright. I appreciate it.”
He stepped to the side as she took his place. There was already a sizable stack of pancakes on the tray and he piled a bunch on his plate, heading to Kid and Law’s table.
“What’s the notebook for?” he asked, knowing full well how Law hated when people were nosy about his business.
Before Law had a chance to say something snappy, Kid cut in, mouth full of unchewed food. “‘S for my arm.”
Killer raised an eyebrow, not that anybody could see thanks to his mask. “Yeah?”
“Dunno why I didn’t think of it myself but with my powers a prosthetic’s gonna be a piece of cake.”
Law seemed to realize it was futile trying to exclude Killer from this conversation as he leafed back on the notebook and held it up for him to see. “Kid made some sketches yesterday.”
Kid, huh? As far as Killer remembered, it had always been Eustass until now. Killer took the notebook to inspect the drawings closer. Kid had always had an eye for detail, and his drawings were incredibly accurate. Kid never called it art but to Killer is counted even though Kid seldom drew anything except mechanical subjects.
This latest piece was no different—there were multiple pages worth of sketches of different prosthetic arms, some half erased or smudged but each clearly drawn by someone with more than passing knowledge of the topic.
Some of the first ones looked like they might’ve been copied from a reference, very plain and sleek. However, as you got further on the page, the designs turned more complicated and ambitious. Some Killer would’ve even called borderline delusional had he not known what Kid was capable of with his skills and devil fruit powers.
“You need to understand the anatomy of an arm and how it relates to the rest of the body in order to design something practical,” Law said, finally cutting into his breakfast. “I tried to show him examples from reputable academic sources but of course, he got carried away.”
“He tends to do that,” Killer agreed.
“Hey, it’s not like I need to care about muscles and all that. As long as I use the right materials, I can move it with my fucking mind.”
“And as I said yesterday, in some situations, it might benefit you to not have to do that,” Law said.
Killer could only imagine what those situations might be. “Nothing stopping you from making more than one.”
Kid shrugged. “Guess I can compromise. Law’s afraid that if I use the one I like the most so far while we—”
Law stood up, slamming his palm on the table. “Don’t tell him that!”
“Why’s everybody yelling at me today?” Kid whined.
“Because you’re you. Now come,” Law urged, moving toward the door and leaving his half-finished breakfast on the table.
“But I wanted seconds!”
“I thought you wanted to get rid of the bandage,” Law said as if that couldn’t have waited half an hour.
Kid shot a longing look at the tower of pancakes Ikkaku had prepared before getting up, his need to find out the fate of his eyesight winning over hunger.
“I’ll save you some,” Killer promised with a compassionate pat on Kid’s shoulder.
In the early afternoon, they anchored the ship close to an island with a teeming marketplace. They’d been at sea for the majority of the time Kid had been recovering, hesitant to stop anywhere for the fear of running into Marines or other enemies while Kid was in no condition to participate in the fight.
They’d spent a few days docked on a deserted island just to give the crews something other to do than stay cooped up on the ships but everybody was eager for some time off someplace you could have fun that didn’t involve tanning on the beach.
Kid was still conspicuously absent so Killer took it upon himself to send the rest of the crew out with strict instruction to not cause any trouble—an order they usually tended to ignore. He needed to head out for supplies as well, their pantry was starting to look a little bare, not to mention some other essentials were running low.
“You coming?” Ikkaku asked him as she passed by with Penguin and Shachi.
“Can’t leave the ship unguarded.”
“Your captain’s on Tang, want me to fetch him?” she offered.
“If it’s not too much trouble.”
If he didn't hurry, he'd miss his chance to go shopping since many vendors opened up at the crack of dawn and would be closing shop soon. Plus he could use a break too, especially if it involved spending time with Ikkaku. He was trying to make up his mind whether he should ask her out for coffee or beer when she returned, Kid in tow.
He had an expression that screamed he'd just been chastised but he brightened up the moment he spotted Killer, who had barely enough time to register the missing bandage around Kid's head before he was wrapped in a tight one-armed hug.
"Dude, I can see!"
"Really?" Killer asked, not daring to believe it.
He pulled back to examine Kid's face. It still looked like it had taken a beating, the neatly stitched wound only in the early stages of healing, and by some miracle, his eye looked almost normal.
"Still a bit hazy but Law said it should improve," Kid said with a grin.
"Not gonna be winning a beauty contest anytime soon though." Killer traced the scar above Kid's eye lightly with his thumb.
"I'll have you know Law said it makes me look ruggedly handsome," Kid countered, turning around when Ikkaku snorted. "He did!"
"Are you okay to keep watch here if I go out?" Killer asked.
"More than fine," Kid said, rolling his injured shoulder. "I could use a fight."
Killer groaned. "Don't you dare start anything, I'll be back in a few hours."
"Killjoy."
A few hours turned out to be an understatement—after Killer finished shopping and scheduling some deliveries for the next day, Ikkaku invited him for dinner. Killer felt a twinge of guilt that he wouldn’t be home to make the dinner he’d prepared for Kid but it didn’t stop him from accepting the invitation. Kid was a big boy, he wouldn’t die if he had to be responsible for his own food for once.
Shachi and Penguin tried to tag along for their evening plans but they managed to give them the slip—Ikkaku’s warm hand sliding into Killer’s and pulling him into an alley while the two others were distracted by a street performer.
And after dinner, Killer suggested they have dessert, which turned into cocktails and before he knew it, the sun was starting to set.
“Should we head back to the ship?” he asked.
“Yours or mine?” Ikkaku responded with a tipsy giggle.
Technically, neither of them owned a ship but it seemed too pedantic to point that out. “Mine, I need to make sure Kid hasn’t burned it down.”
“You two are too codependent, I’ve got to teach you how to relax.”
“Are you trying to flirt?” Killer asked just to be sure—sometimes he had trouble reading people he hadn't known for a long time.
Ikkaku scoffed. “I’m not trying, I’m actually doing it.”
“Good to know.”
“You’re so weird,” Ikkaku said but her tone was fond.
On the way back, Killer bought a couple of bentō boxes from a street vendor, knowing that even if Kid had managed to prepare himself dinner he wouldn’t say no to more food. Ikkaku just shook her head at him.
“Your captain’s a big baby.”
“Nah, I just care about him. Old habits die hard, I guess. He used to be so skinny and hungry all the time.”
Ikkaku tilted her head slightly. “You’ve known him a long time, huh?”
“Feels like forever.” And the time before they met wasn't worth discussing anyway.
The ship was still mostly empty when they got back—Killer suspected most crew members would choose to spend the night in the city. He had no objections to it although he always slept better on their ship, same as Kid.
He spotted Dive rolling marbles across the deck and tried to get her attention.
“Where’s Kid?” he asked.
She ignored him for a good minute before turning her face up with a frown that disappeared the moment she noticed the food Killer was carrying.
“Food,” she said, eyes shining with excitement and Killer couldn’t help but be reminded of Kid earlier that day.
“Tell me where he is and I’ll give you some,” he promised.
She pointed toward the upper decks, already extending her hands for her reward. With a sigh, Killer handed her one of the boxes.
“Just don’t make a mess.”
“As if I would, asshole!” she snarled before taking off and disappearing across the corner.
“Gotta love your crew,” Ikkaku observed.
“You guys have a polar bear.”
Ikkaku shrugged. “What of it?”
Killer had half expected to be walking in on a full make-out session once they ascended the stairs and was surprised to find the two captains wedged into a corner, Law sitting with his back against the rail, Kid sprawled out on the deck and asleep. His head was resting on Law’s lap and Law was playing with his hair, too focused on staring at Kid's face to notice Killer and Ikkaku’s approach.
Killer caught a glimpse of Law’s expression—soft and full of affection —before he realized he had company and schooled his face back to blankness.
“Look who’s finally back,” Law drawled, keeping his voice low so as to not awaken Kid.
“Didn’t know we had a curfew,” Ikkaku jibed back, unbothered.
"There was something I wanted to get while we're here but now everything's closed."
"And? Bepo's looking after the ship."
Law made a face. "Kid wanted to come too."
"You're whipped," Ikkaku said.
"You can go tomorrow. Nothing stopping us from staying a few days, we didn't see any Marine activity," Killer cut in before the snarking could turn more hostile.
"Fine," Law agreed with a sigh.
"You hungry?" Killer asked, offering the food he'd brought to Law.
He wasn't about to wake Kid up, he had to have been exhausted after being up all day. Although he seemed much better now, it'd take months to fully recover from such a major injury. Besides, he predicted that Law would save some for Kid, regardless.
Law eyed the offering suspiciously but finally accepted it. "Thanks."
Killer suspected Kid had been lying on top of Law for quite a while, keeping him from getting up to get a snack or something to entertain himself with. He played with the thought of offering to get him a book but decided against it. Best not to make Law expect too much from him.
"I've promised to show Ikkaku my cabin so we'll leave you to it," Killer said instead.
Law shot Ikkaku a meaningful look but seemed to realize he could hardly object with Kid draped all over him, his face mere inches from Law's cock.
"Captain," Ikkaku said, inclining her head towards Law as they turned to leave.
"Don't forget to use protection!" Law called after them.
They did use protection, as well as lube—both swiped from Kid’s cabin since it was unoccupied. It was partly because Killer thought it funny to inconvenience Law and Ikkaku had seemed to find it amusing too, sneaking around the cabin and paying attention to every small detail from Kid's collection of screws and bolts to the space he'd made in the closet just for Law's clothes. There was also the fact Killer hadn’t gotten laid in a while and didn’t want to ruin the mood by spending an hour looking for condoms.
“That was something else,” Ikkaku said as she flopped down to lie on Killer’s chest, her hips finally stilling their movement.
“Good?” Killer asked, out of breath.
“What? I didn’t scream loud enough?”
She had been pretty vocal but Killer wouldn't have objected even if she wanted to up the volume. He wrapped an arm around her waist and buried his face in her thick hair.
“You’re too damn pretty,” he murmured.
Ikkaku made a sound somewhere between content and amused. “Right back at you.”
Killer was too sated and comfortable to get up even though he knew he’d have to get rid of the condom sooner rather than later. When he turned his head, he could see Ikkaku’s eyelids were drooping too, only for her to jerk awake as somebody slammed a door close by.
Killer sighed—he and Kid had picked cabins next to each other back when the idea had sounded convenient. Back when Killer couldn’t have predicted the sounds he’d have to listen to night after night every time Law showed up.
“Guess your captain’s up,” Ikkaku said.
“Yeah. Maybe they’ll let us sleep, we’ve got their lube.”
“You really think that’ll stop them?”
There was a loud thud and then a deep moan, clearly audible even through the wall.
Ikkaku snorted. "I guess that answers the question."
"I'd apologize but your captain's part of the problem."
"At least they're back to normal. I was worried for a while there," Ikkaku said, pausing for a moment. "I don't think Law would take it well if he lost someone else."
"Kid's not going down that easily," Killer reassured her.
"He better not. You keep him safe, for my captain's sake," Ikkaku told him, raising her head to look Killer in the eye.
"What about my safety?"
"Hmm, I don't know. Not all danger is bad," Ikkaku mused, entwining her hand in Killer's hair before leaning down to kiss his neck with more than a hint of teeth.
Killer groaned in pleasure, his hand sliding farther down till he was cupping her ass. He was pretty sure they'd be alright—all of them. Things wouldn't be the same but not all change was bad, even when it was painful.