Fic: Coolant
Title: Coolant
Author: iron_fist123
Pairings: Frank/Gerard
Warnings: Profanity
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They're stuck in the middle of the desert, clouds of dust closing in on them.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't be writing this, would I? ;)
Beta: The lovely vinvy betaed this for me. :) Thank you, girly.
Author's Notes: EDIT: I FORGOT TO DEDICATE THIS TO ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS. D: Anyways, this is dedicated to Robyn.
They’re stuck in the middle of the desert, clouds of dust closing in on them.
Jet Star is leaning against the hood of the car, arms folded in resignation. He’s given up on trying to fix the car. He doesn’t have the mechanical expertise that Fun Ghoul has, and Ghoul gave up hours ago, wandering away with his hands shoved in his pockets and a cigarette between his lips.
Kobra is fiddling with the radio, trying to get a message out, an SOS, or maybe just a goodbye, because there are too many cars coming. Too many Dracs.
Party doesn’t think they’re getting out of here alive.
And it’s all because of a fucking coolant leak, something they’ve tried so hard to prevent because it’s so hard to get coolant out here. It’s something Ghoul has tried so hard to prevent and Party knows that he’s beating himself up about it.
Party sits up and slides off the back of the car. He heads in the direction that Ghoul went in, biting his lip, and finds the man sitting with his head buried in his knees, ray gun dangling loosely from his fingers.
“We’re gonna die, Gee,” Ghoul mutters, staring at the dirt. “We’re gonna die and it’s gonna be all my fault.”
“We aren’t gonna die, Frank.” Party lowers himself to the ground and pulls the gun out of Ghoul’s hand, sliding it into the man’s shoulder holster carefully. His fingers brush Ghoul’s arm gently, a reassuring touch.
“There’s no way we’re getting out of this, Gerard. They’re all around us, how can we hope to fight ‘em with four ray guns and a coupla incendiaries?”
Party links their fingers, pressing his lips to Ghoul’s knuckle. “You don’t know what’ll happen. There could be less of them than it looks like.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“We’ll make it, Frank.”
“Tell me you have a plan then. Tell me you know what to do.” Ghoul’s eyes are pleading and Party has to look away.
He doesn’t say a word. He’s never been able to lie to Ghoul.
Ghoul shakes his head, gazing up at the setting sun. The colors in the sky are wild, something he had never seen in Battery City, where the sky is projected onto a dome. It’s beautiful, all pinks and oranges and Party knows it’s the last thing they’re both going to see.
Somehow that doesn’t seem so bad.
“I love you, Frank.”
It’s silent for a minute before Ghoul replies. “Love you too, Gee.”
They stand, hands still clasped and head back to the car, where Kobra is now standing next to Jet Star, his expression drawn into a worried frown.
“This is it, boys,” Party murmurs. Kobra wraps him into a hug, burying his face in Party’s neck. “I love you, Mikes.”
“Love you, Ger.”
Jet Star hugs him next. “Raise your glass high, Gerard.”
“For tomorrow we die... Brothers in arms, eh, Toro?” Party smiles weakly.
Ghoul kisses him, long and hard, until he’s breathless and aching with want.
“Let’s give ‘em a fight to remember,” Jet says loudly, priming his ray gun.
They wait, because that’s all there is to do now. The cars are drawing closer and Party is thinking about how beautiful Ghoul looks with that look of fierce determination on his face.
That’s all he thinks about when the first shot fires and catches him in the shoulder, the only thought he has when he falls to the ground, Korse standing over him in a fit of triumphant glee.
Frank’s smile is the last thing he remembers before he embraces the darkness and lets go.
Author: iron_fist123
Pairings: Frank/Gerard
Warnings: Profanity
Rating: PG-13
Summary: They're stuck in the middle of the desert, clouds of dust closing in on them.
Disclaimer: If I owned them, I wouldn't be writing this, would I? ;)
Beta: The lovely vinvy betaed this for me. :) Thank you, girly.
Author's Notes: EDIT: I FORGOT TO DEDICATE THIS TO ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS. D: Anyways, this is dedicated to Robyn.
They’re stuck in the middle of the desert, clouds of dust closing in on them.
Jet Star is leaning against the hood of the car, arms folded in resignation. He’s given up on trying to fix the car. He doesn’t have the mechanical expertise that Fun Ghoul has, and Ghoul gave up hours ago, wandering away with his hands shoved in his pockets and a cigarette between his lips.
Kobra is fiddling with the radio, trying to get a message out, an SOS, or maybe just a goodbye, because there are too many cars coming. Too many Dracs.
Party doesn’t think they’re getting out of here alive.
And it’s all because of a fucking coolant leak, something they’ve tried so hard to prevent because it’s so hard to get coolant out here. It’s something Ghoul has tried so hard to prevent and Party knows that he’s beating himself up about it.
Party sits up and slides off the back of the car. He heads in the direction that Ghoul went in, biting his lip, and finds the man sitting with his head buried in his knees, ray gun dangling loosely from his fingers.
“We’re gonna die, Gee,” Ghoul mutters, staring at the dirt. “We’re gonna die and it’s gonna be all my fault.”
“We aren’t gonna die, Frank.” Party lowers himself to the ground and pulls the gun out of Ghoul’s hand, sliding it into the man’s shoulder holster carefully. His fingers brush Ghoul’s arm gently, a reassuring touch.
“There’s no way we’re getting out of this, Gerard. They’re all around us, how can we hope to fight ‘em with four ray guns and a coupla incendiaries?”
Party links their fingers, pressing his lips to Ghoul’s knuckle. “You don’t know what’ll happen. There could be less of them than it looks like.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“We’ll make it, Frank.”
“Tell me you have a plan then. Tell me you know what to do.” Ghoul’s eyes are pleading and Party has to look away.
He doesn’t say a word. He’s never been able to lie to Ghoul.
Ghoul shakes his head, gazing up at the setting sun. The colors in the sky are wild, something he had never seen in Battery City, where the sky is projected onto a dome. It’s beautiful, all pinks and oranges and Party knows it’s the last thing they’re both going to see.
Somehow that doesn’t seem so bad.
“I love you, Frank.”
It’s silent for a minute before Ghoul replies. “Love you too, Gee.”
They stand, hands still clasped and head back to the car, where Kobra is now standing next to Jet Star, his expression drawn into a worried frown.
“This is it, boys,” Party murmurs. Kobra wraps him into a hug, burying his face in Party’s neck. “I love you, Mikes.”
“Love you, Ger.”
Jet Star hugs him next. “Raise your glass high, Gerard.”
“For tomorrow we die... Brothers in arms, eh, Toro?” Party smiles weakly.
Ghoul kisses him, long and hard, until he’s breathless and aching with want.
“Let’s give ‘em a fight to remember,” Jet says loudly, priming his ray gun.
They wait, because that’s all there is to do now. The cars are drawing closer and Party is thinking about how beautiful Ghoul looks with that look of fierce determination on his face.
That’s all he thinks about when the first shot fires and catches him in the shoulder, the only thought he has when he falls to the ground, Korse standing over him in a fit of triumphant glee.
Frank’s smile is the last thing he remembers before he embraces the darkness and lets go.