Rating: R-17

Warning: this story contains rough gay sex, threesomes, drug abuse, violence, character death (not the main characters, don't worry), and really bad language

Disclaimer: ain't mine

Prologue Part One

Dirty Youth

Verko(r)kste Jugend

Eight years ago:

It must've been around three in the morning when he and Killer finally went over to Wire's. Kidd was fucking tired, but at the same time he was fucking drunk, but the lines he took together with that nasty chick in that nasty bathroom in some shitty club downtown were keeping him awake. After he had fucked that chick senseless in one of the stalls he left her slumped over the toilet, puking. That bitch shouldn't have wanted to drink his juice, not if she couldn't take his whole length down her throat. Pathetic.

He had left the bathroom and searched for Killer, but he couldn't make out his mass of blonde hair in the mass of shitfaced people dancing and drinking and doing whatever in the club. The music had turned shitty and he wanted a smoke, but his pack was empty.

Someone just lit up a cig next to him and he simply snatched the cig from the surprised man, but when the man started yelling he shrugged and only grinned. Then man quickly shut up. He knew that his feral grin had that kind of effect on people.

He grabbed the man's drink too and went through the sweating and smelling crowd to the door, if Killer wasn't inside the club, he was for sure outside, probably trying to sell their last coke in the dark alleys next to the club. He smirked again and congratulated his fucked up brain to that kind of logic thinking.

He was fucking blitzed.

Oh shit, he liked that song the DJ had just put on, fuck, the coke did magic to his taste of music, fuck, the beat was going through his veins of his nineteen year old body, fuck, the beat, he danced, and then there was this chick, or was it a dude? Didn't matter, he only registered long hair and an ass grinding on his crotch. Nice. He felt his cock coming back to life, but then the music changed and he remembered that he wanted to find Killer.

He shoved that dude (or chick) of him and made his way back over to the doors.

He found Killer in a dark alley, selling some stuff to some dude, while his cock was getting sucked by another guy, down on his knees in front of Killer.

"Oi Killer, come on, let's go!" he yelled.

The man who was just buying drugs jumped startled and froze when he saw who had interrupted their deal.

Kidd smirked. He fucking loved scaring people to death only with his feral smile and his cold but blazing eyes. The man was shitting himself right now.

Killer seemed unfazed, face unreadable, since it was partly covered by his trademark mask. He just grabbed the hair of the man giving him head and withdrew his mouth with a disgustingly wet sound. Killer tucked his half hard cock back in his pants and got out a ten dollar note. He gave it the rather young looking man and quickly finished the exchange of drugs for money with the other, rather scared looking man.

The men both shot Kidd a last glare, than they hurriedly left the dark alley.

Killer snarled at him for a greeting: "You gotta stop scaring the users away."

"He still bought his shit, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but only because his bro was busy sucking me off."

"I can't believe you paid that fucker for a bj."

"Felt compassionate."

"Fuck your compassion. Let's head over to Wire's, music turned shitty."

"Yeah, let's go."

When they arrived at Wire's shitty apartment in Sabondy, probably the most run down area in Grand Line City, Kidd was still bitching at Killer for paying the man that had sucked him off. Killer fucking knew that his whore of a mother had been a prostitute, so naturally he hated every kind of prostitution.

But Killer only shrugged and he was tempted to smash Killer's face in, fuck Killer, he wanted to see blood right now, fuck, he wanted a fight, a really bad fight-

But then before he could give in to his bloodlust Killer opened the unlocked door to Wire's apartment and he calmed somewhat down, enjoying the prospect of either some more booze or another line, maybe both.

When they entered the messy apartment they were immediately greeted by Hawkins and Bonney, some of his closer buddies, both more or less shitfaced. But he didn't see Wire around.

"Where's Wire?" he grunted.

"He's out with Bege and Drake-" Hawkins murmured while shuffling his cards. He nodded and went over to Wire's small kitchen, grabbing a plastic cup and filling it with whatever liquor was standing around on the counter. He went back in the living room and noticed that Killer was seated next to Bonney, a busty bitch with her hair dyed in an obnoxious shade of pink. Killer was talking to her, but Bonney seemed more occupied with Hawkins, who was laying out his cards on the couch table. Hawkins had this weird quirk where he would snort his coke only from his cards and from nothing else.

Hawkins followed his stare: "You up for a line?"

"Yeah."

He went back to the kitchen and grabbed a straw that he cut in half with the knife he was always carrying around in his leather jacket. He came back to the living room and gave Hawkins his end of the straw. He and Hawkins were pretty tight, but that was just how it was if you had nothing left in your life than your friends, they automatically became a little like your family. Yeah, but fuck this, family was probably the wrong word. The word family indicated closeness, trust and love. And fuck this shit, he, Killer, Hawkins, Bege, Drake, Wire, Bonney, Urogue and Apoo, they were just way to fucked up to function as some kind of alternate family.

But fuck this shit. He wanted to do some lines with Hawkins right now.

Hawkins shuffled a card over to him, the ace of hearts, with three lines on it. He smirked. Hawkins knew him way too good. He had said he only wanted one line, but come on, one or three, what was the difference?

Hawkins had two lines on his card, and even Bonney was down.

He took a gulp of the liquor in his cup, then he sniffed his three lines.

Ah, fuck.

He felt how his brain shredded itself and then pieced itself back together in a completely different set up. Fuck yeah. He looked up and met Bonney's stare. But he didn't look her in the eyes for long, but instead ogled her overly huge breasts. Fuck, he was down to fuck again.

He motioned Bonney to come over to him. When she was right in his face he grabbed her head and bent it so she was looking up to him. He stuck his tongue out and licked some stray coke from her nose.

"Wanna fuck?" He grunted.

Bonney shrugged and turned his head and nodded in Hawkins direction. "Gotta ask him."

Hawkins watched their interaction with amusement. Suddenly Kidd got an even better idea. "Hey Hawkie, why did I never fuck you?"

"You never asked." Hawkins smirked.

"You up for it?"

Hawkins grinned and got up from the couch. He went through the small hallway down to Wire's bedroom. Kidd got up from the floor was rubbing his hardening cock through his pants at the prospect of fucking Hawkins. He made it almost to Wire's bedroom, when he turned his head and asked with a knowing smirk: "Bonney, you're coming?"

Bonney grinned, delighted that she wasn't left out after all, and hurriedly made her way over to him. Before he turned around and entered the bedroom he met Killer's stare, who still sat on the couch. He looked somewhat pissed, but he only smirked at Killer's sour expression. If you wanna fuck, you just do it. You don't sit around and cuddle and kiss. You just fuck. And hey, Killer shouldn't complain, he had his cock shoved down the throat of that fucking hooker less than thirty minutes ago.

He gave Killer one last look and then closed the bedroom door behind him.

Hawkins and Bonney were getting rid of their clothes and touching each other, fumbling, grinding, making out. After he got rid of his clothes too, he joined them on the mattress.

Kidd got a hold of Bonney's hair and he forced her head down to his hard cock. She eagerly started sucking, but he wasn't paying her a lot of attention. His eyes were on Hawkins, who stroked his own cock at the scene in front of his eyes. After some rough strokes Hawkins seemed to have enough and positioned Bonney so she was on all fours and still sucking Kidd off. Hawkins grabbed her hips and thrust into her. Bonney let out a strangled moan that went straight through his cock, since he was hitting the back of her throat with his erection.

He decided that he had enough of Bonney's mouth and withdrew his saliva coated erection from her wet opening. Bonney whined and tried to grab his cock, but Hawkins was still fucking her pretty damn hard, so she lost her balance and crashed face first in the mattress. Hawkins didn't look like he cared of Bonney's lack of holding herself up; he just kept on fucking her with his eyebrows knitted together.

Kidd moved around Bonney and Hawkins, so that he was now looking at Hawkins back. He pushed Hawkins over so his back was slightly bend and then positioned himself at Hawkins ass. He spread Hawkins ass with his huge hands and then thrust inside, knowing that they wouldn't need lube, not if you just did two lines. But fuck coke, fuck everything, tight, hot, tight, hot-

FUCK!

Hawkins yelled something and even Bonney became louder, but he didn't care, he was focused on his own pleasure, Hawkins was fucking tight, fuck yeah-

He buried his hand in Hawkins long blonde hair and yanked his head back. Then he fucked the ever living shit out of Hawkins, while Hawkins absorbed his hard thrusts right into Bonney.

They all fucked in this position till he came in Hawkins ass, then they shuffled around, let Bonney do some suckin' so their cocks were hard again in no time. This time Bonney was in the middle, Hawkins was fucking her ass, while he fucked her pussy. Bonney was only a quivering mess in between their hard bodies, but Kidd's attention wasn't on her, it was on Hawkins, who was locking eyes with him.

This position made him horny as hell, feeling Hawkins' thrusts that close to his own fucking.

Fuck yeah, after they both came into Bonney, they didn't stop their fucking and went straight for a second round. Bonney seemed to have multiple orgasms or some shit, but he didn't care, as long as her tight, wet walls were contracting nicely around his cock.

When he was done he got up and took a really quick shower in the adjoining bathroom, then he pulled his pants and his shirt back on. He left a passed out Bonney and a rather pensive Hawkins who was laying out some cards on the bed behind and went back into the living room.

Now, after he had a nice fuck, he was ready to get really fucked up – it fucking sucked ass that after too much booze, weed and coke he wasn't able to get it up again. But then, compared what he experienced with his buddies, he seemed to tolerate the most shit running in his blood and still getting it up multiple times.

He noticed that Wire, Bege and Drake were in the living room, talking some shit and what the fuck, why were they so fucking hyped at four in the morning?

He greeted them and then he noticed the biggest possible shit in the nineteen years he had been living in the most fucked up city in the country.

"What the fuck is this shit?" He yelled.

There were several cartons standing around on the floor, and one carton was ripped open on the couch table.

He knew what coke looked like, fucking shit, he'd been using for years now. But he had never seen so much fucking blow in one room, and shit, if he assumed right there would be more in the other cartons. And it wasn't only blow.

He knew what H looked like, too. Motherfucking shit. That was a shitload of Heroin there too.

"What the fuck?" He yelled again.

"Calm down, bro." Wire said, leaning against the wall, sipping on a drink.

Killer had been sitting on the couch rather calm and he had observed the whole situation they had in the living room. But now he stood up and stood right next to him. He said: "Yeah, what the fuck is this?"

Drake smiled a toothy grin and explained: "You know, Bege wanted to buy a new gun from that dealer down at the harbor, and we got lucky."

"Yeah, we were leaving Portgas' shack, when we noticed some fucks lurking around." Bege continued explaining. "Naturally we quietly followed them, and guess what, we happened to stumble across a huge deal, and then Wire here started a distraction and we were able to snatch some."

Kidd looked at them incredulous. They gotta be kidding him.

"You havta be kidding me."

But even in his fucked up hazy mind Kidd knew that they weren't.

Bege was going on: "Yeah, you know how much this stuff is worth? That's easy over a million-"

"No shit." Kidd snarled. The room quieted down at his icy tone. "The harbor, you said? Yeah, are you guys FUCKING MENTAL? THAT'S NOT OUR FUCKING TERRITOY!"

"Who gives a shit? They won't notice-"

"I give a shit, you little fucktard! Of course they'll notice, you just said it, it's easily over a million-"

"Yeah, Kidd, come on, don't freak, it's over a million! We'll be fucking millionaires-"

"I don't give a shit. You should return those boxes where you found them and hope and beg that they won't find you. That's a number to big for us-"

"Come on, Kidd, you always said we should stop with the little shit, let's make some bigger money, let's get started in the real business-"

"Yeah, but I didn't mean that you should fucking steal a million worth in Heroin!"

"Who gives a shit? It sells as good as coke-"

"That's not the point, retard. You fucking got it from the harbor. That's Joker's fucking territory."

"Joker's territory?"

"Yeah, you little shit." Drake visibly paled at his words. There weren't many rules concerning Grand Line City's underground, but the most important one was probably: You don't fuck with Joker. You just don't.

Kidd groaned and tried to withstand the urge to beat the shit out of Drake and Bege. He fucking knew that it had been Drake's and Bege's idea, Wire probably just had gone along with it, like he went along with pretty much everything.

"We need to get rid of that shit, now. Joker will track that back to us, he knows about everyone who's selling out there, and if we suddenly sell H too, fuck, if we'd suddenly sell only a half an ounce more than we're supposed to, he'll know." Kidd said.

"Shit, I hope for the sake of all of us that you've been fucking careful when you stole it, fuck, if someone has seen you-" Killer started.

Kidd fucking knew how Bege and Drake worked. "We're fucked."

A snarling voice from the door said: "That you are."

Kidd's insides froze.

Fuck.

Motherfucking shit.

They were really, really fucked.

Despite that his brain was so drugged up, he was aware of everything. He saw how Killer drew his weapons, in one hand a gun, in his other one his sick ass blade; Bege and Drake whirled around, drawing their guns too, they were all yelling; Wire drew his gun too, Bonney and Hawkins were coming in the living room, probably curious what all the yelling had been about, they had their guns too – and fuck his motherfucking shitty luck, he was only in his pants and a shirt, and no fucking weapon on him.

One look at the man at the doorway told him it was one of fucking Joker's men.

Maybe it was the coke in his brain that made him act cowardly – or rational? Since he was the only one unarmed he dove behind the couch, and fuck, why was everything so clear for him, so precise, the men pooling in the living room, all Joker's men, the shooting, so many bullets, so many bullets, bullets everywhere, they tore through clothes, through flesh, through everything.

Coke was in the air, coke dust, how ironic, screams, shots, so many shots, blood, so much fucking blood.

He saw Drake and Bege going down, countless red holes on their chests, he saw Hawkins brain paint the wall, he saw Bonney going down, Wire, and then, last one standing, Killer going to his knees, falling over on his face.

The coke in his veins and the pain of seeing Killer, his brother, fucking dying in front of his eyes – fuck, he couldn't believe that Killer lay there in a pool of his own blood – fuck, it all made him ignorant to the stray bullets that pierced his shoulder and his leg, and fuck, his arm, his left arm, fuck, his left arm, so much blood, so much holes.

And then the shooting stopped.

He couldn't move. He couldn't.

He could only hear and see, and fuck, there was a high-pitched sound in his ears, and what else did he hear? Oh, sirens. A lot of sirens.

Fuck the police.

Then his vision went blank and his ears went numb.

TBC