You hated the smell of the Pits. Always had.
Half-forgotten in the bowels of the city's old industry sector, a place built back when people were less metal and wires and more flesh and bone, even the locals tried to steer clear unless absolutely necessary. While nowhere was truly safe, everyone knew you didn't travel to the Pits unarmed. Ever.
The old transit tunnels they were built into were never meant to last this long. Not without routine maintenance and fresh building materials, at least. Something it likely hadn't received in...oh, over half a century. Rumor was that city officials had left the unused tunnels to rot away into nothing until they eventually collapsed, no doubt hoping that the vagrants living in them would perish along with the relic tunnels of an era gone by.
But cockroaches don't go down easy, as the saying went.
Those with money and nefarious deeds to hide--the bottom dregs of society--made the tunnels their home, over time repairing and structurally supporting the decades-old spaces with whatever materials they could get their hands on. No one was willing to put huge stacks of cash into it, though. They were crumbling and nigh-on ruined anyway, so they put just enough in it to stay long-term without fearing collapse.
It didn't look pretty. It certainly wasn't anything to marvel at. And sure, every so often word got around of a section caving in, but for the most part, it held. The casualties thus far were low and infrequent enough that everyone was satisfied with a job well done. Good enough, the world said, and that was it.
Sections were organized and business naturally made it's way into the seedy underground. It thrived without the watchful eye of the WGPD. It grew a terrifying reputation as worse and worse scum found their way into it's depths. It expanded and changed, until even the underground had an underground.
Those were the Pits. The deepest, most dangerous parts of the tunnels. The sections most didn't know about unless you were involved in them.
Fighting rings, illegal implant surgeons, hitmen, and even the notorious Recyclers if you ventured far enough into the dank spaces. Just thinking about them made you shiver. Your eye implant wasn't anything special, several generations back from the latest tech on the market, but that didn't mean they'd not wish to harvest it from you to sell later.
Second-hand implants were, unfortunately, a lucrative market. And most buyers didn't give a damn how their original owners had come to part ways with them.
You brush away the morbid thoughts and sidestep exposed piping along the pathway, navigating through the darkness with the aid of your optic wiring, the tech providing a kind of night-vision as you traverse the tunnels. You pass the occasional Chaser laying amongst the garbage heaps and rats, high as kites on whatever the latest and most potent drug had made it's way onto the streets.
You can hear the cheering even from here, and before long you turn down the maintenance hall that would take you to your destination. The fighting rings.
The place was rowdy and loud, more packed than usual. A cramped crowd of people stood standing around the square-ish ring in the center of the room. You stood up on your toes, unable to see exactly who was fighting through all of the heads in the way. Their grunts and the meaty sounds of punches punctuated the air, overpowered only by the snarling cheers of those watching.
You never do get a good look at their faces, though the absence of red hair was enough to convince you that who you were looking for wasn't either fighter currently trying to punch the other into a brutal coma.
You continue past those watching with sick excitement, bumping and pushing towards an undistinguished door at the opposite end. No one bothered to confront you further than glaring a nasty side-eye at you. You twist the rusted metal knob and enter the back rooms.
It smells sweatier in here than it does out by the ring. You wrinkle your nose, wandering back to the lockers where you're sure to find the person you'd come all this way to see.
You find him sitting on one of the benches, wrapping his knuckles with the flimsy tape. You don't know why he still insists on wrapping his mechanical hand--there's no point, really, it won't spare the tech any damage in the ring--but he always did insist on it.
He looks up as you approach, and gives you a pleased grin. "Hey. Decided to watch after all?"
You sigh, shaking your head. "No. I'm here to convince you to back out."
His smile fades, eyes returning to the task at hand. "Go home, then, 'cause that's not happening."
"Kid-"
"Y/N, you know how long I've been training for this." He says with obvious bite in his tone. You can tell he's holding back, though. "Years. There is so much riding on this fight."
"I know that-"
"Then how the fuck can you come in here and ask me to pussy out? You're fucking delusional."
You can't help but bite back a scoff, grip tightening on the flyer you'd carried with you from the city streets, the entire reason you'd come here in the first place. "Do you have any idea who you're fighting tonight?"
"Of course I do." He says with an uncaring shrug. You unfold the paper and shove it between you.
"Kaido! You're facing Kaido, the man who's rigged up with more top-of-the-line Vega Tech than the fucking military! And you're expecting to stand a chance with old generation implants you scrounged up enough cash to buy from the back alley markets?"
"Didn't know you had that little faith in me." He snarls to himself, but you take an angry step forward.
"As if I haven't seen your fights before! I've seen every busted nose, every damaged implant, and all of the bruises and cuts you've taken all these years. Don't tell me I don't believe in you, but this!" Kid only gives a cursory glance at the paper as you hold it up again, rolling his eye and continuing his preparations. "He's more machine than man!"
"What, and I'm not?" He asks, lifting his metal arm in emphasis. "I know who he is. Even better he's the monster they claim him to be. I'll make a goddamn killing by betting on myself tonight. My reputation will skyrocket when I knock him flat. You have any idea how much that's worth?"
You're shaking your head in disbelief, but he takes that as a no.
"Knocking out the legendary, champion fighter...I'll finally make it out of my dumpy apartment and live in the Golden Zone with the rest of the world's winners. Just like we always said we would." Kid's eyes light up as he grins again, mind lost in the clouds of his big dreams. It's a look you would have shared with him not so many years ago. "You can't tell me that isn't worth the risk. You'd do the same, if you still had the chance."
"Kid...Please don't do this." You say in despair, seeing without a doubt that no amount of pleading or arguing would change his mind. He was going into that ring, whether you liked it or not. And you definitely didn't like it. But still, you try again anyway. "You might not walk out of that ring if you enter it."
The lights flickered overhead, as they always did when the generators were nearing overload. Neither of you even blinked, so used to the spotty electricity. He pins you with a long stare, finally standing to face you. In the dim light of the locker room, you can clearly see the pale illuminations of his optics. He stood many inches taller than you, even more now that he'd reinforced his knees with the metal bone grafts a few months back.
"I should go. The match starts in a few minutes."
You close your eyes, shoulders slumping as the feeling of dread washes over you.
"I hope you still stay and watch, Y/N." He says, reaching up to lay his hand of flesh on your shoulder. "It'll be nice to see one face who's on my side in the crowd. Because I know for sure no one else is betting on me tonight. It'll be good to see them all shit themselves when I win, though."
You say nothing, then feel a light squeeze. He steps past you, leaving you to stew in your feelings as the roar of the crowd intensifies from the other room.
You felt sick.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You'd wanted to look away from the bloodbath that ensued when Kaido had knocked the redhead down over and over again, each blow spraying more red blood all over those circled around the ring's edge. It was sickening to watch your friend be so brutally dominated, knowing how much this all meant to him and how long he'd prepared himself. To see such a difference in power was...horrifying.
You'd wanted to look away, but you couldn't, so afraid of him seeking your face in the crowd and not finding it in his moment of need. You hated the fights, but you hoped he knew you still were rooting for him.
After the fourth take-down, Kid didn't get back up again. Your blood ran cold when he didn't move, Kaido pacing the space behind him, glaring down at his opponent as if he were toying with him. Predatorily. Hunting.
The crowds cheered their satisfaction, a victory so decided they felt the need to scorn the loser. When it became apparent that the match was over, the referees lifted Kid's unconscious form and dragged him towards the infirmary.
You intercepted them just in time, standing between them and the door. "Let me take him, please. I can tend to his wounds." You say above the baying crowd.
They must have recognized you, because they needed no further convincing to follow you out of the fighting pits and towards your apartment.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Years of tending Kid's wounds after his many fights gave you valuable knowledge about his unique anatomy. You knew every implant he'd ever installed; from the two optic upgrades, the reinforced metal knees, the cybernetic arm, and even the skeletal grafting in his ribs after many of them had broken after an unexpectedly brutal fight.
Without it, you doubt you could have done anything for what was left of the beaten, broken, and battered man who left the ring that night. You honestly hadn't been sure if he was still alive when they'd laid him back on your bed.
It took a week of painstaking care before he was even able to sit up again. A few more after that before he could walk. He had always been fast to recover from injuries, so used to receiving them, but this time around was different.
You don't know what you expected from him after he woke up the first time, but the utter defeat and despondency that left him practically sullen wasn't it. He talked so little and had lost his typical brash attitude. It was so unlike him.
Near the end of his recovery, you sit beside him on the bed, looking over the extent of his healing injuries. The bruises have long faded, but the worst of the cuts along his arms where Kaido's metal fists had opened the skin were still in need of several more days of tending. Other than that, he was mostly back to normal. And yet still he hadn't felt the need to leave your apartment in all that time.
"You can say it, you know." He spoke into the silence, startling you as you look over the stitches you'd applied. You look up at him in confusion, but he can't even meet your eyes.
"Say what?"
"That you told me so. That you were right. That I thought myself better than I was and paid the price." Every word was flat, devoid of emotion. You couldn't think of a time he'd sounded so empty. "I know it's all true."
"Why would I?" You finally say with a shrug, going back to what you'd been doing. "It doesn't change anything now. What's done is done, and I'm just glad you're alive after facing a monster like Kaido."
"I don't think I can fight anymore." He admitted to himself, staring down at his hands--one flesh and one metal and wires. "I can feel it. Everything about me is...off. Is wrong. I don't know what the fuck he did to me in there, but..."
He never finished the thought, clenching his hands into fists. You reach over and cover his hand of flesh with your own.
"I'm sorry.."
"Right..." He gave a cynical scoff. "This was what you wanted, wasn't it? For me to get my ass handed to me so I don't try something so stupid again?"
"Now you're just putting words in my mouth." You say with a frown, tone not nearly as chastising as it otherwise would be. He was still so dejected, no need to dig the grave deeper. "I never wanted this."
"Yeah..." He shook his head, taking in a deep breath before letting it out as a long, drawn-out sigh. "I know...Didn't mean that."
"I never liked seeing you fight, I'm not gonna lie and say I did, but...I'm sorry something so important to you was taken away."
Kid nodded slowly in thought, and you used the opportunity to continue.
"I know how much you wanted to make it to the top, to climb your way out of the streets and into the high life. To make a name for yourself without anyone there to help you. You worked so hard and got so far. It isn't fair for this to happen to you." You say softly, meeting his eyes as he finally raised his head to look at you.
He didn't look away, even as silence descended between you once more. It took a few beats of your heart to realize how close the two of you actually were. Only inches separated you.
You swallow, eyes flicking between his own to stop yourself from looking at his lips, so close to yours. "Maybe...we can get you set up with a job at my workplace, they might be hiring. And if you're worried about a place to stay-"
"Y/N." He mutters, eyes drifting down to your lips. You shut up, unable to stop yourself from drifting closer as he closed in too. "Quit talking..."
There's a lightness in your chest as you come together, lips pressing against one another in a hard, first kiss. There's a sturdiness that he'd been missing all these weeks in the way he pushes back into you. A certainty and assuredness of oneself that you knew was so integral to Kid as a person. Feeling it return as he kissed you was a relief all it's own.
You feel his hand come up and angle your head so he can kiss you deeper, a small groan escaping him when you didn't try to stop him. As if you could. Now that you'd been thrown into this zone of more than friends, something you hadn't given much thought until now, you found you really didn't want him to stop.
And neither did he.
Soon enough the soft touches morphed into more determined, exploratory, bold caresses of your bodies. You shivered at the feeling of his metal fingers trailing along the side of your breast through your shirt. Kisses grew sloppy and drifted from lips to jawlines to the pulse point of your neck. Breaths came out in harsh pants as need began to cloud your bloodstream.
"Kid-"
"Don't tell me to stop, Y/N." He groaned against the skin of your neck, mouthing further kisses and sliding his fingers up under the bottom hem of your shirt. "I'm feeling too much right now-"
"I don't wanna stop." You admit, gasping as his teeth nipped gently. "But your wounds-"
"I survived getting my ass kicked by Kaido." He reminded with a chuckle, the first sign of something other than solemnity you'd seen from him since the fight. "You think you'll hurt me? I'd like to see you try..."
You're shucking clothing faster than you thought possible of either of you. Kid lifts his arms out of his shirt as if he doesn't feel the stitches at all, and a part of you thinks he doesn't, all the blood clearly rushing to the cock now tenting his pants.
You're never more than a few inches apart as you undress, a desperation hanging heavy in the air to touch, to hold, to feel anything of each other. Daring mouths bites lips and tug with a challenge. Pants, bra, and underwear join your shirt on the floor, discarded and to be found later. Many hours later.
You're pressed into the softness of your comforter, naked and ready, Kid hovering above you as he lines his cock up to your wet entrance. Your hands settle on his shoulders, one feeling the line between where his flesh becomes metal.
He enters you in an easy, slow thrust, breath leaving him in a hiss as he seats himself fully. Your nails tighten on his shoulders, wondering if Chasers experienced this sort of sensation when they shot up. Because if they did, you now understood the addiction.
Kid doesn't wait any longer, beginning his insistent thrusts into your cunt. You gasp, throat thick with emotions you can't name and the need to vocalize your pleasure all in one. In the end, you decide to simply moan, pulling him closer to you if it were even possible.
Had you wanted him this way all this time? Your lust-driven brain screams yes. Yes, you were stupid for not realizing it sooner, that Kid had been there the whole time, that there was no one else in this godforsaken, neon-drenched, tech-plated city that liked, that you even cared for. There was no one else but him.
And maybe he realizes too, that you both had been so stupid all this time as his lips descend again down to your neck, panting his exertion against your skin.
"Y/N..." Kid groans into your ear as he fucks you faster and harder, each snap of his hips hitting deep inside of you, making your toes curl. Your nosy neighbors can get fucked. "You've always been there. Never saw...not 'til now...nnngh, fuck!
"Wasn't ever alone..." He concluded, hips angling to hit a spot he knew would make any resistance in holding out your orgasm crumble to pieces. And while the semi-confession wasn't Shakespearian by any degree, it was more than your own head could have come up with in that moment.
You're cumming with your head thrown back into the pillow, Kid's lips sucking a spot on your neck and your vision darkening despite your optical implants designed to prevent that from happening. You swear it sparks or something, the intense sensations of pleasure wracking through you as he too finally finds his release and thrusts his hips one final time to bury himself deep into your cunt.
Your chest heaves, sweaty and hot as you try catching your breath. Kid has fared no better, placing lazy kisses in between his haggard breaths on your neck.
Neither of you move for the longest time, until Kid finally pushes himself up to hover over you again. Your eyes meet, optics searching each other in silence. Something's going through his head, but you decide not to ask, and to let him speak at his own pace.
You see the corner of his mouth twitch upwards. "Hope you're ok with this, Y/N. Because you're stuck with me now. And I don't back down from anything."
You can't help but smile back. "Wouldn't want you any other way."
ns 15.158.61.20da2
