Fic: On the Hood of Your Car, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison, R
So I bought Danger Days. I've listened five times tonight. I love it. Words do not express how happy actually having it in my hands made me feel. I feel like everything on it is perfect. My boys are fucking back, baby.
So in honour of this grand day, I bring the first of many Killjoy 'verse fics! :D
This particular installment is one response of a few to a number of prompts on the Killjoys kink meme - each part will be linked, from the same story, but it's pretty much all just Fun Ghoul/Party Poison PWP. Surprise surprise.
title: On the Hood of Your Car
pairing: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Frank/Gerard)
fandom: My Chemical Romance
rating: R
warnings: M/M (obviously), 'desperate dry humping', bad language.
word count: ~1510
summary: It was fast, hot, dirty, and usually still in clothes.
a/n: I decided not to go anonymous, I enjoy people reading my stuff too much. So sue me. Written for this prompt.
The thing was, Fun Ghoul decided, the thing was that despite how damn cool they all looked, their clothes simply were not practical for anything they did. None of it. Not the running, the fighting, the hurried escapes, nothing at all.
And especially, especially not the sex.
Because occasionally, if the Dracs were a few zones behind or they’d found an abandoned building or they sent a couple of them off for supplies, the Killjoys did find the time for pro-creational activities. The term pro-creational was, of course, used very loosely, due to the fact that nothing could really be created, other than a sticky patch and occasionally a sore backside. In fact, Fun Ghoul preferred to call it fucking. Party Poison used to call it love-making, but that was because he was a romantic at heart, and honestly that didn’t make any sense as usually you were back in the car, zipped and ready to go, before you’d even finished coming.
That was, if you actually got unzipped in the first place, which Fun Ghoul rarely did, and was therefore another reason why it really couldn’t be called lovemaking. Thankfully, Party Poison gave that up a long time ago. It was fast, hot, dirty, and usually still in clothes. But it was better than his own hand, Fun Ghoul decided, and it was definitely nice to be able to take Party Poison’s attention off the Dracs, for once.
“C’mon, Ghoul,” Poison whined, pawing at Fun Ghoul’s belt buckle. Fun Ghoul growled something unintelligible, and batted Poison’s long, pale fingers away to push him back against the hood of the car.
Party Poison made a particularly undignified squawking noise as his back hit the hot metal, but then Fun Ghoul stepped between his legs and began to palm him through those stupid tight stupid stupid jeans and his mouth dropped open. It truly did not matter how many times they did this, Fun Ghoul’s hand on his clothed cock and the tips of his fingers rubbing his balls through his jeans would always leave Party Poison gasping. He would like it if he could be naked once in a while, but the practicalities of it were just ridiculous. Right now, all Party Poison wanted to do was get off.
Apparently, he and Fun Ghoul shared a brain - and Party Poison decided not to dwell on just how wrong that was and on how many levels - because he fucking squeezed, and Party Poison’s back arched off the painted spider and he keened, long and loud and high, and just because he was cruel and he could, Fun Ghoul removed his hand, smirking at the red-head’s whine of protest.
“Ghoul!” he groaned, banging his head on the metal. “C’moooon.”
Fun Ghoul ignored him, instead taking his time to trail his eyes over the way those fucking jeans clung to every curve of Party Poison’s legs, those thighs and calves and ankles that were hidden by the boots but he knew were skinny. His fingertips followed his eyes, down Party Poison’s thighs to the tops of his boots and back up again, before lifting his legs to curl them around his waist. Party Poison’s eyes snapped open because he’d been rubbed off before, yeah, but this was knew.
“Ghoul,” he murmured. “Are you gonna unzip me?”
Party Poison’s voice was all husky and breathy and he blinked those ridiculously feminine eyelashes over those ridiculously puppy-like eyes, and Fun Ghoul nearly snapped, right there and then, nearly said yes, fuck yes, yeah, let me see your legs, I want to be in you this time.
But he didn’t. He shook his head, tightened Party Poison’s legs around his waist, and then lifted him up until they were chest to chest, nose to nose, breathing smoke-tainted breath over each other.
“Next time,” he murmured, “I’ll unzip you and turn you around and bend you over and I’ll touch you so slowly and I’ll go so deep, I promise. But for now…” He didn’t finish, just watched as Party Poison’s eyes fluttered shut and he bit his bottom lip at Fun Ghoul’s promise. That mouth… Fun Ghoul wanted so much from Party Poison, wanted to take everything and anything and he swore that he would, but right now, they needed to come as soon as possible. So he leant forward, licked his way slowly over Party Poison’s pink lips, and as the red-head moaned in appreciation, he rolled his hips.
Party Poison moaned again, arching his back once more to press their chests so close that Fun Ghoul thought they might merge into one body. He rolled his hips again, hearing the scratch of denim on denim and feeling the friction it caused burst through his every nerve.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “P-Poison, why haven’t we done this before?”
“I d’no,” Party Poison mumbled in reply, clutching the lapels of Fun Ghoul’s jacket, “but goddamn do it again.”
Fun Ghoul couldn’t have said no if he wanted to. And when he complied with Party Poison’s gasped requests, the return rub of the red-head’s clothed erection against his own made him shudder and moan before he could bite it back. Party Poison smiled dreamily and let his head loll back, drawing Fun Ghoul in with the fingers on his jacket and the heels digging into his ass. Fun Ghoul leant forward, bending them both over slightly, one hand on the car bonnet holding him up, and the other running through Party Poison’s messy scarlet hair.
Party Poison’s mouth was hanging open, oh-so-pink tongue slightly in view, and before he could stop himself, Fun Ghoul pressed forward and plunged his own tongue into the warm heat of Party Poison’s mouth. The red-head’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Fun Ghoul with a mix of shock and desire and… Love. Fuck. Fortunately, Fun Ghoul managed to distract himself from that as Party Poison snapped his hips forward and moaned into Fun Ghoul’s mouth, loud and obscene as he writhed on the car. Fun Ghoul had never kissed him before. He was determined to do it more often now. Kissing Party Poison was something else entirely. He could probably come from that feeling alone.
The controlled roll of their hips was gone now, and instead they were frantically rubbing against one another, their entire bodies caught in the friction of it, so that there was the muffled squeak of leather that combined with the loud scratch of denim from their crotches. Fun Ghoul pulled away to breathe, and both he and Party Poison looked down to the point where their clothes met. The denim was strained on either side, and it was almost painful. Party Poison looked up at Fun Ghoul again and let his lips part, begging for another kiss, desperately asking to be devoured.
Fun Ghoul was only happy to oblige, keeping his hips snapping forward and sliding up and down until there was a curl of heat in his stomach and Party Poison felt his muscles clench and his nerves begin to spark. He tore his mouth away from Fun Ghoul’s to moan in a loud and increasingly obscene way, dug his heels in even harder, pulling Fun Ghoul right down on top of him, and bouncing his hips up and down until he felt the heat finally take control and he was coming, feeling his release soaking through the denim and onto Fun Ghoul’s. Not that that would matter in a moment.
“Fuck, Ghoul, yes, fuck!”
Party Poison smirked up at Fun Ghoul, holding himself up above him on the bonnet of a car, and snaked a hand in between them. He could feel his own come on the front of their jeans, but squeezed Fun Ghoul’s denim-clad cock anyway, and then Fun Ghoul gave a short yelp and then a low, long moan of ‘fuuuuuuuuuck’, before he flopped down with his head on Party Poison’s shoulder and slowly began to laugh.
“Best,” he murmured, and felt Party Poison nod. They must look ridiculous, him almost flat out on the bonnet of a run-down Trans-Am, his legs still around Fun Ghoul’s belt-adorned waist, who was practically collapsed on top of him. He couldn’t care less.
“Thanks, Ghoul,” he murmured. He was a romantic at heart, yes, and that felt a lot better than getting rubbed off, even though it probably looked like something from one of the banned porn films you could occasionally find in dumpsters. Besides that, Fun Ghoul had kissed him.
“What for?” Fun Ghoul murmured now against his neck, his teeth just slightly grazing the skin. If he was younger, Party Poison would be getting hard again already.
“Making love to me,” he replied boldly, with a smile that Fun Ghoul couldn’t see, but could hear perfectly. He just smiled against the warm, sweat-soaked skin of Party Poison’s neck, and nodded. They did everything else BL/Ind said they shouldn’t, after all, so why couldn’t they love?
So in honour of this grand day, I bring the first of many Killjoy 'verse fics! :D
This particular installment is one response of a few to a number of prompts on the Killjoys kink meme - each part will be linked, from the same story, but it's pretty much all just Fun Ghoul/Party Poison PWP. Surprise surprise.
title: On the Hood of Your Car
pairing: Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (Frank/Gerard)
fandom: My Chemical Romance
rating: R
warnings: M/M (obviously), 'desperate dry humping', bad language.
word count: ~1510
summary: It was fast, hot, dirty, and usually still in clothes.
a/n: I decided not to go anonymous, I enjoy people reading my stuff too much. So sue me. Written for this prompt.
The thing was, Fun Ghoul decided, the thing was that despite how damn cool they all looked, their clothes simply were not practical for anything they did. None of it. Not the running, the fighting, the hurried escapes, nothing at all.
And especially, especially not the sex.
Because occasionally, if the Dracs were a few zones behind or they’d found an abandoned building or they sent a couple of them off for supplies, the Killjoys did find the time for pro-creational activities. The term pro-creational was, of course, used very loosely, due to the fact that nothing could really be created, other than a sticky patch and occasionally a sore backside. In fact, Fun Ghoul preferred to call it fucking. Party Poison used to call it love-making, but that was because he was a romantic at heart, and honestly that didn’t make any sense as usually you were back in the car, zipped and ready to go, before you’d even finished coming.
That was, if you actually got unzipped in the first place, which Fun Ghoul rarely did, and was therefore another reason why it really couldn’t be called lovemaking. Thankfully, Party Poison gave that up a long time ago. It was fast, hot, dirty, and usually still in clothes. But it was better than his own hand, Fun Ghoul decided, and it was definitely nice to be able to take Party Poison’s attention off the Dracs, for once.
“C’mon, Ghoul,” Poison whined, pawing at Fun Ghoul’s belt buckle. Fun Ghoul growled something unintelligible, and batted Poison’s long, pale fingers away to push him back against the hood of the car.
Party Poison made a particularly undignified squawking noise as his back hit the hot metal, but then Fun Ghoul stepped between his legs and began to palm him through those stupid tight stupid stupid jeans and his mouth dropped open. It truly did not matter how many times they did this, Fun Ghoul’s hand on his clothed cock and the tips of his fingers rubbing his balls through his jeans would always leave Party Poison gasping. He would like it if he could be naked once in a while, but the practicalities of it were just ridiculous. Right now, all Party Poison wanted to do was get off.
Apparently, he and Fun Ghoul shared a brain - and Party Poison decided not to dwell on just how wrong that was and on how many levels - because he fucking squeezed, and Party Poison’s back arched off the painted spider and he keened, long and loud and high, and just because he was cruel and he could, Fun Ghoul removed his hand, smirking at the red-head’s whine of protest.
“Ghoul!” he groaned, banging his head on the metal. “C’moooon.”
Fun Ghoul ignored him, instead taking his time to trail his eyes over the way those fucking jeans clung to every curve of Party Poison’s legs, those thighs and calves and ankles that were hidden by the boots but he knew were skinny. His fingertips followed his eyes, down Party Poison’s thighs to the tops of his boots and back up again, before lifting his legs to curl them around his waist. Party Poison’s eyes snapped open because he’d been rubbed off before, yeah, but this was knew.
“Ghoul,” he murmured. “Are you gonna unzip me?”
Party Poison’s voice was all husky and breathy and he blinked those ridiculously feminine eyelashes over those ridiculously puppy-like eyes, and Fun Ghoul nearly snapped, right there and then, nearly said yes, fuck yes, yeah, let me see your legs, I want to be in you this time.
But he didn’t. He shook his head, tightened Party Poison’s legs around his waist, and then lifted him up until they were chest to chest, nose to nose, breathing smoke-tainted breath over each other.
“Next time,” he murmured, “I’ll unzip you and turn you around and bend you over and I’ll touch you so slowly and I’ll go so deep, I promise. But for now…” He didn’t finish, just watched as Party Poison’s eyes fluttered shut and he bit his bottom lip at Fun Ghoul’s promise. That mouth… Fun Ghoul wanted so much from Party Poison, wanted to take everything and anything and he swore that he would, but right now, they needed to come as soon as possible. So he leant forward, licked his way slowly over Party Poison’s pink lips, and as the red-head moaned in appreciation, he rolled his hips.
Party Poison moaned again, arching his back once more to press their chests so close that Fun Ghoul thought they might merge into one body. He rolled his hips again, hearing the scratch of denim on denim and feeling the friction it caused burst through his every nerve.
“Fuck,” he gasped. “P-Poison, why haven’t we done this before?”
“I d’no,” Party Poison mumbled in reply, clutching the lapels of Fun Ghoul’s jacket, “but goddamn do it again.”
Fun Ghoul couldn’t have said no if he wanted to. And when he complied with Party Poison’s gasped requests, the return rub of the red-head’s clothed erection against his own made him shudder and moan before he could bite it back. Party Poison smiled dreamily and let his head loll back, drawing Fun Ghoul in with the fingers on his jacket and the heels digging into his ass. Fun Ghoul leant forward, bending them both over slightly, one hand on the car bonnet holding him up, and the other running through Party Poison’s messy scarlet hair.
Party Poison’s mouth was hanging open, oh-so-pink tongue slightly in view, and before he could stop himself, Fun Ghoul pressed forward and plunged his own tongue into the warm heat of Party Poison’s mouth. The red-head’s eyes flew open, and he stared at Fun Ghoul with a mix of shock and desire and… Love. Fuck. Fortunately, Fun Ghoul managed to distract himself from that as Party Poison snapped his hips forward and moaned into Fun Ghoul’s mouth, loud and obscene as he writhed on the car. Fun Ghoul had never kissed him before. He was determined to do it more often now. Kissing Party Poison was something else entirely. He could probably come from that feeling alone.
The controlled roll of their hips was gone now, and instead they were frantically rubbing against one another, their entire bodies caught in the friction of it, so that there was the muffled squeak of leather that combined with the loud scratch of denim from their crotches. Fun Ghoul pulled away to breathe, and both he and Party Poison looked down to the point where their clothes met. The denim was strained on either side, and it was almost painful. Party Poison looked up at Fun Ghoul again and let his lips part, begging for another kiss, desperately asking to be devoured.
Fun Ghoul was only happy to oblige, keeping his hips snapping forward and sliding up and down until there was a curl of heat in his stomach and Party Poison felt his muscles clench and his nerves begin to spark. He tore his mouth away from Fun Ghoul’s to moan in a loud and increasingly obscene way, dug his heels in even harder, pulling Fun Ghoul right down on top of him, and bouncing his hips up and down until he felt the heat finally take control and he was coming, feeling his release soaking through the denim and onto Fun Ghoul’s. Not that that would matter in a moment.
“Fuck, Ghoul, yes, fuck!”
Party Poison smirked up at Fun Ghoul, holding himself up above him on the bonnet of a car, and snaked a hand in between them. He could feel his own come on the front of their jeans, but squeezed Fun Ghoul’s denim-clad cock anyway, and then Fun Ghoul gave a short yelp and then a low, long moan of ‘fuuuuuuuuuck’, before he flopped down with his head on Party Poison’s shoulder and slowly began to laugh.
“Best,” he murmured, and felt Party Poison nod. They must look ridiculous, him almost flat out on the bonnet of a run-down Trans-Am, his legs still around Fun Ghoul’s belt-adorned waist, who was practically collapsed on top of him. He couldn’t care less.
“Thanks, Ghoul,” he murmured. He was a romantic at heart, yes, and that felt a lot better than getting rubbed off, even though it probably looked like something from one of the banned porn films you could occasionally find in dumpsters. Besides that, Fun Ghoul had kissed him.
“What for?” Fun Ghoul murmured now against his neck, his teeth just slightly grazing the skin. If he was younger, Party Poison would be getting hard again already.
“Making love to me,” he replied boldly, with a smile that Fun Ghoul couldn’t see, but could hear perfectly. He just smiled against the warm, sweat-soaked skin of Party Poison’s neck, and nodded. They did everything else BL/Ind said they shouldn’t, after all, so why couldn’t they love?