A/N: I'm formerly xXI. Hate. TwilightXx on here, just so you guys know. I don't know if anyone still remembers me, but I'm making reappearance because I just can't stay away. I think Thiefshipping must be my OTP. :D

Disclaimer: I don't own YGO. Just relapsing on YGO fanfiction. :D

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"This Town Ain't Big Enough" Summary: Set in a comic-verse where superheroes and villains coexist and the battle between good and evil bubbles in a not-so-peaceful city. Twist: It's not really about good and evil. Thiefshipping, AU.

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"Fast Fist Strikes Again!

For the third time just this week, the legendary criminal leaves yet another mark on the lives of every citizen of Domino."

Malik read the newspaper over his brother's shoulder, harsh black coffee steam choking him before he could finish the article. Instead of sticking around choking, he wandered into the kitchen to hunt for breakfast.

"This Fast Fist guy is insane. He's going to get caught eventually," his eldest brother said around the rim of his mug.

Malik smirked into the fridge, searching for orange juice but coming up disappointingly juiceless. Odion was a cop. Malik knew he thought his best chance of getting promoted off traffic duty was if he caught and locked up one of the city's many superpowered criminals. He also knew if it did happen, it wouldn't be the one in question he got his hands on.

"I doubt it. Have you seen this guy in action? He's, like, fucking jet-powered or something."

Mariku, Malik's twin brother said as he walked into the kitchen. The latter mentioned of the two rolled his eyes when Mariku pushed past him to dig in the refrigerator, mysteriously pulling a mostly empty gallon of orange juice out of its hiding spot and gulping the rest down straight from the carton.

"Watch your language," Odion said half-heartedly, knowing no matter what he said Mariku would do what he wanted.

"He's right, you know," Malik offered, settling on pouring himself a glass of curiously scented milk. "FF is probably the best villain this place has to offer."

"FF?" Mariku snorted. "What, is he your homie?"

Malik shrugged and downed his milk. He set the clouded glass in the sink and slung a shoulder around Odion. "Love you, have a good day. Pass that on to Ishizu for me, will you?" He pecked the older man on his clean-shaven cheek and headed for the door, grabbing his backpack.

"Mariku, hurry up or you'll be late!" He called behind him before jogging outside and mounting his motorcycle.

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Halfway to school, Malik parked his bike in front of an oldies record store and headed into a side alley. The place was dark, smelled of mold and stale beer, and the dirty dumpster made for a perfect cover.

He crouched beside it so it blocked him from passersby on the street and tugged off his shirt, folding it neatly and tucking it in his backpack. He did the same with his designer skinny jeans, and last with his purple Converse, which he tucked behind the dumpster so he wouldn't stain his clothes. He reached into his backpack until his fingers touched the bottom, and he traced the smooth lining until he found a small tear.

Malik peeked around the corner of the dumpster to check for intruders before pulling his mask out of the hole in his backpack lining and sliding it on, tucking his hair into the spandex. It was kill on his gorgeous do, but he kept a straightener with him 24/7 just in case. Next came his gloves from the same hidden pocket.

Lastly, Malik slid his backpack behind the dumpster and inspected himself. He was wearing a tight-fitting bodysuit that covered every inch of his body, flesh and hair. His eyes were shielded by a white rectangle that allowed him to see as much as he needed and a half-circle revealed his mouth and the tip of his nose, and everything else was covered with different shades of purple in a tasteful design. The wings drawn onto the back of the costume were a pretty sweet touch, if you asked him.

On his chest were two white letters: FF.

Fast Fist clambered straight up the wall of the alley, prepared to wreak loads of before-school havoc on the poor inhabitants of Domino City.

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When Malik returned to the alley to change for school (he'd already missed most of first period. Oops) he was stricken with a wonderful surprise.

His left shoe was gone.

The tan, muscular teenager searched everywhere in the alley, hoping a stray cat had just dragged it out of its hidey-hole and misplaced it. Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be found.

Until the high-pitched, "Yo!" echoed through the small space and Malik snapped into a fighting stance.

The speaker stood up on the rooftop to his right, right above the dumpster. He was tall (taller than Malik), skinny but not particularly muscular, and holding up Malik's beloved purple Converse. He let it swing side to side, slowly like he was gloating, which he definitely was.

"Damn it, Lynx!" he said through gritted teeth. He'd been right about a stray cat dragging it off.

"You want these? Maybe I'll give them back if you can catch up to me," Lynx said before shooting off across the rooftop.

Malik scowled behind his mask and took a running start before shooting into the air in a magnificent display of his most valued ability. He flew a little above the roof, eyeing his nemesis with impatience. Most of the time, his messing around at Malik's expense was pretty fun, but not when he was already late for school.

Malik caught up to Lynx with ease, tackling him to the concrete from above.

"This is one weirdass arrangement we've got going on, don't you agree?" Lynx was always garbed in a pure white costume, much like the design of Malik's. However, his mask covered every bit of his face, leaving it completely concealed.

Malik didn't play into his hand, grabbing for his shoe, which Lynx was barely struggling with to keep out of his reach, above both of their heads.

"I've got somewhere to be. I seriously don't have time for this." Malik tried to reason. He was basically straddling the other boy's stomach, which at any other time he would have found both awkward and sexually fascinating. He let himself relax a bit, leaning down into his palms, which were planted on the rooftop on either side of Lynx's torso. He offered the other a frown that meant business, but his action was useless.

"If I gave up every time you whined about breaking a nail before prom, I wouldn't be much of a rival, would I?" he replied, his voice even but mocking behind his mask.

Malik eyed him for a moment, even though he couldn't see it, before lunging for his shoe again, this time propelling himself off the other's belly and plucking it from his hand.

Almost.

"They call me Lynx because I'm like a humanoid cat. My reflexes are twenty times better than yours, my dear Fafi." He paused long enough to let his point sink in. "Also, I've been told I'm a lot more flexible than most people."

Malik ignored the inappropriate joke and the nickname he'd acquired over the months with his lunatic nemesis. "Give me the shoe."

"Have we resorted to begging now, hmm? I don't go for that. I might hand it over for a fifty and a blow job, though."

"Are you kidding me?" Malik demanded, his hands now on his hips effeminately.

"What? You would have offered that first if you'd known?" Lynx purred the last word, something Malik had always attributed to his powers, but sometimes questioned if that was who he was when the costume came off, too, because he was too damn good at it for it to just be an act.

"If I said yes, would you give me my shoe back?"

"If you said yes, I'd expect a crisp Franklin and a blow job. Then I might give it back."

"Grant is on the fifty, not Franklin. He's on the hundred. Might?"

"I changed my mind. I want a hundred. And yes, I said might. It's not like you're actually considering that anyway. You're too much of a coward."

"Would it get me my shoe back?"

Lynx stepped toward him, placed a hand on his shoulder. He leaned in until the smooth satin-y feel of his mask tickled Malik's ear and whispered, "You're a slut, Fafi."

Malik shrugged modestly, then grabbed his rival's offending hand and flipped him on his back, twisting his arm in what was clearly painful, even for someone with increased flexibility.

"You're so not worth my first base, honey." Malik held him in that position until he called out in agony, and then he swiped his shoe and took off into the air.

He didn't look back.

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A/N: I hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I did.