Turn Up the Fakes and Lies
Title: Turn Up the Fakes and Lies
Author:iron_fist123 and vinvy
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: R (for language)
Word Count: 3792
Summary: "I resent that. I say a lot of important shit." "Like what?" "Like, what I said back at D's not-so-safe house. About family."
Warnings: Profanity, Adult Themes, Show Pony Being Devious, etc
Disclaimer: Not FDA approved. The Surgeon General will tell you that none of this ever happened. Believe him.
Author's note: TWO CHAPTERS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE. Some of you have already read scene 3, but here it is. Sorry it took so long, Real Life got in the way.
(Previous chapters)
(Scene 3)
Act 4
It looked like Frank couldn’t hide from dog food dinners for ever. It was just about all that Kobra and Jet had brought back from Tommy Chow Mein’s place, can after glaring white can of Power Pup Pre-Moistened Kibble. The can looked up at him, mocking him, declaring his days of veganism officially over. He poked it violently with his spork, hoping that somewhere the inventor of this disgusting mystery meat felt the pain.
“Ghoul! Up, now, we need to talk.” Kobra didn’t stop to wait for him.
From what Frank saw of the back of his head Kobra was livid. He had no idea what he’d done and frankly, he was kind of terrified. He hadn’t thought Kobra could get angry, even through all the shit they’d gone through in the past few days. Kobra was so stoic that it physically hurt to see him glare laser blades at him.
“Um, okay.” Frank set his spork down and stood up, casting a worried look at Jet, who was stretched across a table, guitar in hand. The man caught his eye, shrugged and continued to strum. Frank glanced ahead- Kobra was leaning on the outside of the diner’s picture window, waiting for him. He stepped outside. It was still light outside and the heat stung at Frank’s sunburn, making it almost unbearable to move his upper body.
Kobra turned to face him, his expression blank. “Pony told me about the other day.”
Frank gulped and didn’t reply. What could Show Pony have said to him to make him so angry?
“He told me he caught you and my brother in bed together.”
Oh, shit. Frank stuttered out the first thing that popped into his head: “It wasn’t what it looked like, I swear to god-”
“Shut it, Frank.”
Frank was sure that if he could see Kobra’s eyes behind those aviators, they’d be rolling in irritation.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you two do together,” he said after letting Frank squirm in silence for a while, “but I swear that if you hurt him, at all, you’ll be wishing that I had let that Scarecrow dust you in the city that first day. Understand?”
Frank nodded.
Kobra shook his head in reply. “No, I don’t think you do.”
He lashed out, boot connecting with Frank’s knee. Kobra caught him as he fell, shoving him against the front window of the diner. His mouth flew open in a loud groan of pain and suddenly, a flasher was pressed nearly to the back of his throat. He choked, the unmistakable urge to gag rearing its head. The flasher primed, heating up and burning his lips.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. He couldn’t stop himself from making wet, choking sounds.
“Do you understand me, Frank? Gerard is about the only thing I’ve got left in this godforsaken wasteland and I will not let you break him and get away with it.”
Frank did his best to nod, hoping his eyes conveyed consent. The sharp edges of the ray gun were cutting into the corners of his mouth and tongue.
“I know him better than anyone. And I know that he won’t be able to take it if you betray him. I will hunt you down and kill you very, very slowly if you ever do.“ Kobra twisted the gun slightly.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, Frank repeated the mantra in his head. Tears slid down his face in dirty tracks. The corners of his chapped lips were splitting, probably bleeding.
“So, lemme ask you again: do you understand, Frank?”
Frank let out a whimper, fingers curling into a fist.
“Good.” Kobra wiped his flasher off on Frank’s shirt and holstered it then he nodded in approval before leaving Frank propped against the dirty glass.
“Asshole,” he murmured, scuffing his boot in the dirt and rubbing his over-extended jaw.
He turned to the window, catching Poison’s wide eyes. Show Pony laid across the bar, giggling maniacally to himself. He shook his head and meandered back inside, almost feeling angry. Frank could empathize with Kobra’s protective nature, though. He would be damned if he let anything happen to Poison. But he himself hurt Poison? Kobra really thought that was gonna happen? Never.
“How in the fuck,” Poison said loudly, the moment he walked in the door, “did that flasher fit in your mouth like that? Do you even have a gag reflex?”
“Yeah, I just have a big mouth,” Frank mumbled, cheeks heating when he realized his words. “Fuck off.”
“Not unless you’re coming with me.” Poison licked his lips.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, guys, get a fucking room,” Jet groaned, hitting a sharp note on his guitar.
“You’re a genius, Jet.” Poison stood from his seat at the bar and grabbed Frank’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into the back of the diner.
~~
“... so technically, we’re resting,” Poison was saying.
Frank wasn’t really following the conversation. He was a little busy enjoying the rise and fall of the man‘s chest beneath his head. It was warm, almost too warm considering his sun-burnt state, but it beat being outside. The sun had just gone down, and Frank was fucking glad that he was in a warm bed. The diner’s shitty insulation meant the whole place was frigid. He carefully rested one hand on the bandages over Poison’s stomach, wondering what the skin underneath looked like, if it would scar very much.
“I mean, really, Pony didn’t say we couldn’t rest in the same bed.”
“Mmhmm.” Frank’s eyelids were heavy. Poison was playing with his hair, just above his stitches and it was having a very soothing effect.
“Are you even listenin’ to me, Fun Ghoul?”
“Yeah. Just, uh, resting my eyes.” Frank looked up at Poison, grinning lazily.
“Resting your eyes, my ass,” Poison scoffed. “You were fallin’ asleep on me, jerk. What if I’d said something really important?”
Frank snorted, “So far, nothing important has come from your mouth, Gerard.”
“I resent that. I say a lot of important shit.”
“Like what?”
“Like, what I said back at D’s not-so-safe house. About family.” Poison’s expression was uncomfortably solemn.
“Shit, don’t look at me like that,” Frank murmured, turning his head away.
He could feel Poison shift, could almost see the confused expression on the man’s face. His head would be tilted, lip bitten in a frown. “Like what?”
“All serious and whatever. I don’t like it.”
“I was being serious, Frank. I meant what I said, about you being part of the family.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you resisting it? I want you here, with us.”
Frank didn’t reply, just listened to Poison’s steady heartbeat. How could the man’s heartbeat be so consistent when Frank’s was pounding with every breath he took? How could he be so calm with Frank laying on him when every tiny movement that he made set Frank’s nerves on fire?
“Frank… Look at me, come on.” Gerard’s tone was pleading. “Frank, please.”
Frank sat up and leaned back against the headboard, looking over at Poison, who was gazing at him fondly.
“Come here,” Poison murmured, holding his arms out. Frank sighed and leaned forward, kissing Poison softly.
“This all seems like some kind of bad dream sometimes,” Frank murmured against Poison’s lips. “I think, ‘how the fuck did I get myself into this?’ The world’s been shit for years and everyday I still think about how it was before, you know?”
“I know, Frankie. I miss it too, the comic books and the good music. I miss drawing and singing.” Poison pulled back, keeping Frank wrapped in a hug. “I had this band back in the day, and we were such shit, but it was fun.”
“You were in a band?” Frank had been in a few bands when he was a teenager, nothing too big, just some garage bands. One of the ones he’d been had actually started to get big, but the Great Fires of 2012 had drowned that prospect.
“Oh, yeah. I kept to myself mostly, but I sang with a few bands when I was a teenager. I even tried to play guitar for one.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Jet told me that you play guitar. Maybe you can play something for me sometime and I’ll sing?” Poison mused.
“Sure, sure.”
The door creaked open slowly, light filtering through the crack.
“Mr. Ghoul?”
Frank pried Poison’s hands away from himself and sat up to find Grace standing in the
doorway, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Grace?”
The little girl sniffed. “I had a nightmare. But… Kobra is asleep on the couch and Jet is asleep in a chair and I didn’t want to bother them. I heard you and Poison talking, so I came here.”
Frank looked over at Poison, who was biting his lip. “Come here, Gracie,” he told her, holding his arms to her in the same way that Poison had done to him just a few minutes ago. She hurried forward and climbed onto the bed and into Frank’s arms. She curled up against his chest, small even compared to him. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out, heart rate calmed and she was drifting in the world of dreams.
Frank’s eyes had slid shut and the warmth seeping into his bones had just started to put him to sleep when Poison spoke.
“This girl could be our future.”
Frank opened one eye, peering into the darkness at Poison. “What do you mean, Gerard?”
“I mean, she’s the cure to the Virus, but she’s also everything that’s good in this world. She’s so innocent. So pure. She could change the world, Frankie.”
The words barely seemed to seep into Frank’s consciousness. “Too right, G, too right… night, man…”
He let out a sad sigh. “Night, Frankie…”
There was a look that nearly broke Frank’s heart in Poison’s eyes for just a moment before he closed them. His eyelids were too heavy now and all he could do was let them fall and drop into unconsciousness.
~~
Frank could hear something frying and smell maple. They had better not be experimenting with dog food and syrup. I will shoot someone and gladly starve. He shifted awkwardly, pushing himself off of Poison’s side where his gun belt had been digging into his side the whole night. He could add another bruise to his collection.
“Look who’s awake.”
Frank rubbed a hand over his face, wondering how it could be so hot already. He missed the magnetically controlled climate in Battery City. “You sleep with your flasher,“ he stated, “Do you know how paranoid that makes you?”
“I also sleep in my boots most nights, Fun Ghoul, when there’s time to sleep. It’s part of the lifestyle.”
Frank wiggled his sock-clad toes self consciously and glanced up at the headboard. His shoulder holster hung there, looking forlorn.
Poison stretched beside him like a contented cat. He winced when the movement pulled something unhealed in his abdomen. “I like having you around. You fixed the car, we eat regular meals and find places to sleep- it’s like you’re a luxury magnet.”
This is what you call luxury? Frank wanted to ask. That would most likely offend him though and their morning was going so well. “Where’s Grace?” was what he ended up saying.
“She crawled out about an hour ago. I think she’s helping Jet make breakfast. I’m not too sure but I wouldn’t worry- nothin’ gets past Kobra and he was sleepin’ on that couch by the door.”
“Okay,” he pushed himself up, moving to get out of bed.
“Where do you think you’re going? Can’t you take a hint?”
He grabbed at Frank’s belt, making him fall back onto the bed. Before Frank could right himself Poison straddled his hips, pinning him down. He traced the swollen stitches across the side of Frank’s forehead with a tentative finger. The way he looked at Frank... Frank didn’t know what to make of it. Gerard ran his fingers over Frank’s face, memorizing it. He bent and kissed the bruised skin on his forehead. He nuzzled Frank’s cheek and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I told you not to worry about the kid. That translates into “don’t get out of this damn bed” and falls under the “non-negotiable demand” category.” He smirked down at Frank, satisfied with how flustered he looked.
“But if you pop a stitch or something Show Pony-”
That was the wrong thing to say. He was cut off by Gerard’s mouth on his, tongue exploring the backs of his teeth, impatient and derailing his coherence. The red head knotted a hand in the collar of Frank’s shirt. He broke away and growled into Frank’s ear, “You are not thinking about goddamn Show Pony right now.”
It wasn’t a question but Frank answered with a shaky, “No,” just the same.
“Good.” He licked the shell of his ear slowly, making him shiver. Frank’s hand cupped the back of his head. Gerard sucked and licked his way down his throat, pausing just above his collarbone to bite down a little too hard. He was rewarded with a small moan.
“Just what in the fuck do you think you’re doing to my brother?”
Gerard looked up to see Kobra looming by the door.
“More like ‘just what in the fuck is your brother doing to Fun Ghoul?’,” he laughed, “and trust me, asshole, its nothing he doesn’t want me to do.”
Frank struggled underneath him, his face the approximate color of a cherry tomato.
Kobra made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, “Whatever. Breakfast is in twenty minutes.” The door slammed shut.
Frank’s wiggling had won him a little bit of movement and he propped himself up on his hands, hoping to be released.
“You’re so helpful, Frankie,” Gerard smiled, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.
“Hey-”
“- Sh!” Gerard wrestled him out of his shirt. “There are other people in the diner you know!”
“But-”
Gerard’s mouth was on his again, insistent and warm. A hand slid over his ribcage, rubbed slow circles across his chest and stomach. “No, Frankie. I’ve got twenty minutes and I’m using them.”
Frank was having trouble remembering how to breathe. Gerard’s fingernails traced the webbing inked across his chest, taking their time on the pattern. His tongue followed them. A chapped kiss here, nibble there, a genuine bite… It hurt and it was good and damn it it was hard to be quiet. One hand was dug into the sheets, the other twisting into Gerard’s hair. A horribly desperate sound escaped against Frank’s will.
Gerard gently loosened the grip Frank had on his hair before moving to undo Frank’s belt. He sucked at one of the sparrows tattooed over his hipbone until Frank was arching into him. He pressed his sharp little teeth into it just enough to hurt. Panting a bit, looked up. “Still thinking about Show Pony?”
The question was confusing Frank. His head was clouded from lack of blood flow. “Who?”
Gerard smiled. “Good.”
~~
Party Poison (yes, it was back to that name in Frank’s head) was already in the dining room, tucking into a plate of pancakes when Frank emerged from the bathroom. He’d have preferred a shower but washing his hair in a sink would just have to do for now.
When he stepped out into the bright sunlight, though, every eye in the room was on him for a moment and he wondered what in the world Poison had said while he’d been washing up. A second later everyone focused back on their food. That was a relief.
“Hey look who decided to join us,” Show Pony intoned, skating up to him with a plate of pancakes, “Good morning Fun Ghoul. You know you really should have Jet Star check out those bruises on your neck- they weren’t there yesterday. Something might be wrong with you.”
“Thanks for the food,” he muttered, he took the offered plate. He was blushing. Again. Note to self: Get Kobra to teach you how he does that fuckin’ poker face thing.
Poison glanced up from his coffee and beamed at him when he sat down. The goofy ‘just-had-my-mind-blown’ grin that Frank had finally managed to shake returned with a vengeance.
“Success!” Kobra shouted and pumped his fist into the air.
Whoa, joy. Who knew he felt that?
“What’s up, Kid?” Poison leaned over the table to peer at the old laptop that Kobra was fiddling with.
“Got the wireless running hot. I’ve been trying to connect for the past week, Candy’s probably worried… She’s gonna be so pissed at me. She’s due in two months and we still haven’t figured out a name.”
“Ah-ha! I knew it!” Poison shook a finger at his brother and spoke in a sing-songy tone. “You’ve got a little dust angel on the way!”
Kobra stared impassively at him. “Well, Uncle Poison, since you “knew it,” I’m sure you must have been thinking about names. So, tell me some.”
Poison sunk down in his seat slightly. “Well, I haven’t really been thinking about that…”
“Quiet, fool. Kandy wants to name the baby Michael if it’s a boy,” Kobra looked set against the idea. He suddenly smirked at Frank, “Hey, maybe we can name it Frances if it’s a girl.”
Frank flipped him off.
“Sorry, dude, I already got a girl. I’m sure Poison will be glad to accept the offer though.”
The dry reply left Frank too stunned to answer. He settled for shoveling a large bite of pancake into his mouth instead.
“Are we starting with boy names or girl names?”
Kobra shrugged, “Boy names, I guess. Kandy seems to think it’s gonna be named after me.”
“Well it’s gonna if you don’t think up more ideas.”
“I don’t see you contributing anything to this project!”
“Yeah, well I’m not the father. How about Sean for a boy and Madeline for a girl?”
“No… Ron and Chloe? Wait, no those are lame.”
“Well Chloe has potential… Clark and Lois?”
“Hell no. This isn’t a comic book- it’s my child’s life!”
“Okay... Do you like Chloe though?”
“It’ll do.” Kobra frowned and thought on it for a moment, “Yeah, it’s alright.”
“Okay. So now if it’s a boy…Johnny? Cub?”
“’Cub’ is a baby bear, not a name. We’re not naming my child after an animal.”
Poison snorted, “Yeah, Kobra Kid, it’s a bad idea.”
“What about Gerard?”
“You are absolutely not naming your baby Gerard!”
“It’s as good a name as any!”
Frank watched Poison’s face fall into a steady stare.
“You are not naming your child after me,” he said in a low voice. “My name is dangerous.”
“Wake up and smell the 21st century, bro. Names aren’t unlucky. That’s a backasswards idea and you know it.”
The tension that had dropped down over their table told Frank that this argument was not a new one. The brothers stared each other down like a pair of wolves. It seemed only a matter of time before one lunged at the other.
He cleared his throat. “How about Caleb?”
Kobra’s eyes lingered on Poison for a moment before he pointed at Frank, “You! Getting hit this time made you smarter.” He turned his gaze back to the laptop before him and began typing furiously.
Party Poison dug in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a couple of pills. He set one in front of Frank and swallowed the other with a deep swig of coffee. He refilled the cup from the pot at his elbow and handed it to Frank.
“I suppose there’s no cream or sugar?”
“Nope. If coffee is gold those are platinum out here.”
He swallowed a mouthful of the piping hot, bitter coffee, almost choking one the horse pill that went with it. It stung the little cuts Kobra’s flasher left on the inside of his mouth. Jeez, these people will me the death of me.
Grace slid down from her seat in the window and walked over to where they sat. “Do you like your pancakes Mr. Ghoul? Kobra said you liked veggies but those would be gross in pancakes so I put blueberries in ‘em. They were kinda freeze dried or somethin’ but...”
“They’re magnificent, Grace, thank you very much.” He smiled at her. The girl’s ability to make his heart melt surprised him. Maybe it was the crash helmet and puffy vest that added just the right amount of tooth-rotting cuteness?
She stepped around the table to look over Kobra’s shoulder at the computer screen. “What’s that?”
It took him a moment to answer. “It’s code.”
“Can you read it?”
“Yes.”
“What’s it say?”
“Important things.”
“Oh.” She looked bummed out that he wasn’t the same friendly guy he’d been back at D’s safe house. “Dr. Death Defying is showing me how his radio stuff works.”
“Is he really?” Poison answered her because Kobra’s eyes were locked on whatever he was reading.
“Mhmm,” she replied.
“Is he gonna let you put out some soundwaves?”
Her eyes got big. “Think he’d let me?”
He shrugged with a musing smile, “He might. Maybe you should go ask him? I know one thing’s for sure- you puttin’ out some seriously slaughtermatic sounds would be about the shiniest thing to happen around here in a decade. You’d have to get a code name, though.”
“You mean like you have?”
“Yup,” he nodded, “and you’ll get to make it up yourself, too. Whatever name you want.”
Her brow furrowed in concentration. “I don’t know what it’d be…”
“How about you go ask Dr. D to help you? Then, when you have a name picked out, you can ask him about broadcasting.”
“Okay!”
He watched her leave then turned to his brother. “What’s wrong?”
Kobra snapped the laptop shut and jammed it into the bag at his feet. “I need to leave. Now. There’s a Drac raid on the House where Kandy is stayin’ before the day is out. Fuck! Why didn’t I hear about this bullshit sooner?”
Poison swallowed the rest of his coffee in one gulp, some of it dripping down his chin. “Where ya goin’? You need the key to the car! Show Pony! You hold down the fort while we’re gone.” He trotted out of the diner after Kobra.
The derby diva saluted him.
“Do you have any experience evacuating people?” Jet Star fell into step with Frank.
“None.”
“Basic rule one: leave no one behind even if that means you get left behind. Stay with me, alright? The panic is contagious.”
“10-4,” Frank murmured and climbed into the back of the Trans Am.
Author:iron_fist123 and vinvy
Pairing: Frank/Gerard
Rating: R (for language)
Word Count: 3792
Summary: "I resent that. I say a lot of important shit." "Like what?" "Like, what I said back at D's not-so-safe house. About family."
Warnings: Profanity, Adult Themes, Show Pony Being Devious, etc
Disclaimer: Not FDA approved. The Surgeon General will tell you that none of this ever happened. Believe him.
Author's note: TWO CHAPTERS FOR THE PRICE OF ONE. Some of you have already read scene 3, but here it is. Sorry it took so long, Real Life got in the way.
(Previous chapters)
(Scene 3)
Act 4
It looked like Frank couldn’t hide from dog food dinners for ever. It was just about all that Kobra and Jet had brought back from Tommy Chow Mein’s place, can after glaring white can of Power Pup Pre-Moistened Kibble. The can looked up at him, mocking him, declaring his days of veganism officially over. He poked it violently with his spork, hoping that somewhere the inventor of this disgusting mystery meat felt the pain.
“Ghoul! Up, now, we need to talk.” Kobra didn’t stop to wait for him.
From what Frank saw of the back of his head Kobra was livid. He had no idea what he’d done and frankly, he was kind of terrified. He hadn’t thought Kobra could get angry, even through all the shit they’d gone through in the past few days. Kobra was so stoic that it physically hurt to see him glare laser blades at him.
“Um, okay.” Frank set his spork down and stood up, casting a worried look at Jet, who was stretched across a table, guitar in hand. The man caught his eye, shrugged and continued to strum. Frank glanced ahead- Kobra was leaning on the outside of the diner’s picture window, waiting for him. He stepped outside. It was still light outside and the heat stung at Frank’s sunburn, making it almost unbearable to move his upper body.
Kobra turned to face him, his expression blank. “Pony told me about the other day.”
Frank gulped and didn’t reply. What could Show Pony have said to him to make him so angry?
“He told me he caught you and my brother in bed together.”
Oh, shit. Frank stuttered out the first thing that popped into his head: “It wasn’t what it looked like, I swear to god-”
“Shut it, Frank.”
Frank was sure that if he could see Kobra’s eyes behind those aviators, they’d be rolling in irritation.
“I don’t give a flying fuck what you two do together,” he said after letting Frank squirm in silence for a while, “but I swear that if you hurt him, at all, you’ll be wishing that I had let that Scarecrow dust you in the city that first day. Understand?”
Frank nodded.
Kobra shook his head in reply. “No, I don’t think you do.”
He lashed out, boot connecting with Frank’s knee. Kobra caught him as he fell, shoving him against the front window of the diner. His mouth flew open in a loud groan of pain and suddenly, a flasher was pressed nearly to the back of his throat. He choked, the unmistakable urge to gag rearing its head. The flasher primed, heating up and burning his lips.
Breathe, breathe, breathe. He couldn’t stop himself from making wet, choking sounds.
“Do you understand me, Frank? Gerard is about the only thing I’ve got left in this godforsaken wasteland and I will not let you break him and get away with it.”
Frank did his best to nod, hoping his eyes conveyed consent. The sharp edges of the ray gun were cutting into the corners of his mouth and tongue.
“I know him better than anyone. And I know that he won’t be able to take it if you betray him. I will hunt you down and kill you very, very slowly if you ever do.“ Kobra twisted the gun slightly.
Breathe, breathe, breathe, Frank repeated the mantra in his head. Tears slid down his face in dirty tracks. The corners of his chapped lips were splitting, probably bleeding.
“So, lemme ask you again: do you understand, Frank?”
Frank let out a whimper, fingers curling into a fist.
“Good.” Kobra wiped his flasher off on Frank’s shirt and holstered it then he nodded in approval before leaving Frank propped against the dirty glass.
“Asshole,” he murmured, scuffing his boot in the dirt and rubbing his over-extended jaw.
He turned to the window, catching Poison’s wide eyes. Show Pony laid across the bar, giggling maniacally to himself. He shook his head and meandered back inside, almost feeling angry. Frank could empathize with Kobra’s protective nature, though. He would be damned if he let anything happen to Poison. But he himself hurt Poison? Kobra really thought that was gonna happen? Never.
“How in the fuck,” Poison said loudly, the moment he walked in the door, “did that flasher fit in your mouth like that? Do you even have a gag reflex?”
“Yeah, I just have a big mouth,” Frank mumbled, cheeks heating when he realized his words. “Fuck off.”
“Not unless you’re coming with me.” Poison licked his lips.
“Oh, Jesus Christ, guys, get a fucking room,” Jet groaned, hitting a sharp note on his guitar.
“You’re a genius, Jet.” Poison stood from his seat at the bar and grabbed Frank’s hand, pulling him down the hall and into the back of the diner.
~~
“... so technically, we’re resting,” Poison was saying.
Frank wasn’t really following the conversation. He was a little busy enjoying the rise and fall of the man‘s chest beneath his head. It was warm, almost too warm considering his sun-burnt state, but it beat being outside. The sun had just gone down, and Frank was fucking glad that he was in a warm bed. The diner’s shitty insulation meant the whole place was frigid. He carefully rested one hand on the bandages over Poison’s stomach, wondering what the skin underneath looked like, if it would scar very much.
“I mean, really, Pony didn’t say we couldn’t rest in the same bed.”
“Mmhmm.” Frank’s eyelids were heavy. Poison was playing with his hair, just above his stitches and it was having a very soothing effect.
“Are you even listenin’ to me, Fun Ghoul?”
“Yeah. Just, uh, resting my eyes.” Frank looked up at Poison, grinning lazily.
“Resting your eyes, my ass,” Poison scoffed. “You were fallin’ asleep on me, jerk. What if I’d said something really important?”
Frank snorted, “So far, nothing important has come from your mouth, Gerard.”
“I resent that. I say a lot of important shit.”
“Like what?”
“Like, what I said back at D’s not-so-safe house. About family.” Poison’s expression was uncomfortably solemn.
“Shit, don’t look at me like that,” Frank murmured, turning his head away.
He could feel Poison shift, could almost see the confused expression on the man’s face. His head would be tilted, lip bitten in a frown. “Like what?”
“All serious and whatever. I don’t like it.”
“I was being serious, Frank. I meant what I said, about you being part of the family.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you resisting it? I want you here, with us.”
Frank didn’t reply, just listened to Poison’s steady heartbeat. How could the man’s heartbeat be so consistent when Frank’s was pounding with every breath he took? How could he be so calm with Frank laying on him when every tiny movement that he made set Frank’s nerves on fire?
“Frank… Look at me, come on.” Gerard’s tone was pleading. “Frank, please.”
Frank sat up and leaned back against the headboard, looking over at Poison, who was gazing at him fondly.
“Come here,” Poison murmured, holding his arms out. Frank sighed and leaned forward, kissing Poison softly.
“This all seems like some kind of bad dream sometimes,” Frank murmured against Poison’s lips. “I think, ‘how the fuck did I get myself into this?’ The world’s been shit for years and everyday I still think about how it was before, you know?”
“I know, Frankie. I miss it too, the comic books and the good music. I miss drawing and singing.” Poison pulled back, keeping Frank wrapped in a hug. “I had this band back in the day, and we were such shit, but it was fun.”
“You were in a band?” Frank had been in a few bands when he was a teenager, nothing too big, just some garage bands. One of the ones he’d been had actually started to get big, but the Great Fires of 2012 had drowned that prospect.
“Oh, yeah. I kept to myself mostly, but I sang with a few bands when I was a teenager. I even tried to play guitar for one.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. Jet told me that you play guitar. Maybe you can play something for me sometime and I’ll sing?” Poison mused.
“Sure, sure.”
The door creaked open slowly, light filtering through the crack.
“Mr. Ghoul?”
Frank pried Poison’s hands away from himself and sat up to find Grace standing in the
doorway, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes.
“What’s wrong, Grace?”
The little girl sniffed. “I had a nightmare. But… Kobra is asleep on the couch and Jet is asleep in a chair and I didn’t want to bother them. I heard you and Poison talking, so I came here.”
Frank looked over at Poison, who was biting his lip. “Come here, Gracie,” he told her, holding his arms to her in the same way that Poison had done to him just a few minutes ago. She hurried forward and climbed onto the bed and into Frank’s arms. She curled up against his chest, small even compared to him. Within minutes, her breathing had evened out, heart rate calmed and she was drifting in the world of dreams.
Frank’s eyes had slid shut and the warmth seeping into his bones had just started to put him to sleep when Poison spoke.
“This girl could be our future.”
Frank opened one eye, peering into the darkness at Poison. “What do you mean, Gerard?”
“I mean, she’s the cure to the Virus, but she’s also everything that’s good in this world. She’s so innocent. So pure. She could change the world, Frankie.”
The words barely seemed to seep into Frank’s consciousness. “Too right, G, too right… night, man…”
He let out a sad sigh. “Night, Frankie…”
There was a look that nearly broke Frank’s heart in Poison’s eyes for just a moment before he closed them. His eyelids were too heavy now and all he could do was let them fall and drop into unconsciousness.
~~
Frank could hear something frying and smell maple. They had better not be experimenting with dog food and syrup. I will shoot someone and gladly starve. He shifted awkwardly, pushing himself off of Poison’s side where his gun belt had been digging into his side the whole night. He could add another bruise to his collection.
“Look who’s awake.”
Frank rubbed a hand over his face, wondering how it could be so hot already. He missed the magnetically controlled climate in Battery City. “You sleep with your flasher,“ he stated, “Do you know how paranoid that makes you?”
“I also sleep in my boots most nights, Fun Ghoul, when there’s time to sleep. It’s part of the lifestyle.”
Frank wiggled his sock-clad toes self consciously and glanced up at the headboard. His shoulder holster hung there, looking forlorn.
Poison stretched beside him like a contented cat. He winced when the movement pulled something unhealed in his abdomen. “I like having you around. You fixed the car, we eat regular meals and find places to sleep- it’s like you’re a luxury magnet.”
This is what you call luxury? Frank wanted to ask. That would most likely offend him though and their morning was going so well. “Where’s Grace?” was what he ended up saying.
“She crawled out about an hour ago. I think she’s helping Jet make breakfast. I’m not too sure but I wouldn’t worry- nothin’ gets past Kobra and he was sleepin’ on that couch by the door.”
“Okay,” he pushed himself up, moving to get out of bed.
“Where do you think you’re going? Can’t you take a hint?”
He grabbed at Frank’s belt, making him fall back onto the bed. Before Frank could right himself Poison straddled his hips, pinning him down. He traced the swollen stitches across the side of Frank’s forehead with a tentative finger. The way he looked at Frank... Frank didn’t know what to make of it. Gerard ran his fingers over Frank’s face, memorizing it. He bent and kissed the bruised skin on his forehead. He nuzzled Frank’s cheek and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.
“I told you not to worry about the kid. That translates into “don’t get out of this damn bed” and falls under the “non-negotiable demand” category.” He smirked down at Frank, satisfied with how flustered he looked.
“But if you pop a stitch or something Show Pony-”
That was the wrong thing to say. He was cut off by Gerard’s mouth on his, tongue exploring the backs of his teeth, impatient and derailing his coherence. The red head knotted a hand in the collar of Frank’s shirt. He broke away and growled into Frank’s ear, “You are not thinking about goddamn Show Pony right now.”
It wasn’t a question but Frank answered with a shaky, “No,” just the same.
“Good.” He licked the shell of his ear slowly, making him shiver. Frank’s hand cupped the back of his head. Gerard sucked and licked his way down his throat, pausing just above his collarbone to bite down a little too hard. He was rewarded with a small moan.
“Just what in the fuck do you think you’re doing to my brother?”
Gerard looked up to see Kobra looming by the door.
“More like ‘just what in the fuck is your brother doing to Fun Ghoul?’,” he laughed, “and trust me, asshole, its nothing he doesn’t want me to do.”
Frank struggled underneath him, his face the approximate color of a cherry tomato.
Kobra made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat, “Whatever. Breakfast is in twenty minutes.” The door slammed shut.
Frank’s wiggling had won him a little bit of movement and he propped himself up on his hands, hoping to be released.
“You’re so helpful, Frankie,” Gerard smiled, grabbing the hem of his shirt and tugging it up.
“Hey-”
“- Sh!” Gerard wrestled him out of his shirt. “There are other people in the diner you know!”
“But-”
Gerard’s mouth was on his again, insistent and warm. A hand slid over his ribcage, rubbed slow circles across his chest and stomach. “No, Frankie. I’ve got twenty minutes and I’m using them.”
Frank was having trouble remembering how to breathe. Gerard’s fingernails traced the webbing inked across his chest, taking their time on the pattern. His tongue followed them. A chapped kiss here, nibble there, a genuine bite… It hurt and it was good and damn it it was hard to be quiet. One hand was dug into the sheets, the other twisting into Gerard’s hair. A horribly desperate sound escaped against Frank’s will.
Gerard gently loosened the grip Frank had on his hair before moving to undo Frank’s belt. He sucked at one of the sparrows tattooed over his hipbone until Frank was arching into him. He pressed his sharp little teeth into it just enough to hurt. Panting a bit, looked up. “Still thinking about Show Pony?”
The question was confusing Frank. His head was clouded from lack of blood flow. “Who?”
Gerard smiled. “Good.”
~~
Party Poison (yes, it was back to that name in Frank’s head) was already in the dining room, tucking into a plate of pancakes when Frank emerged from the bathroom. He’d have preferred a shower but washing his hair in a sink would just have to do for now.
When he stepped out into the bright sunlight, though, every eye in the room was on him for a moment and he wondered what in the world Poison had said while he’d been washing up. A second later everyone focused back on their food. That was a relief.
“Hey look who decided to join us,” Show Pony intoned, skating up to him with a plate of pancakes, “Good morning Fun Ghoul. You know you really should have Jet Star check out those bruises on your neck- they weren’t there yesterday. Something might be wrong with you.”
“Thanks for the food,” he muttered, he took the offered plate. He was blushing. Again. Note to self: Get Kobra to teach you how he does that fuckin’ poker face thing.
Poison glanced up from his coffee and beamed at him when he sat down. The goofy ‘just-had-my-mind-blown’ grin that Frank had finally managed to shake returned with a vengeance.
“Success!” Kobra shouted and pumped his fist into the air.
Whoa, joy. Who knew he felt that?
“What’s up, Kid?” Poison leaned over the table to peer at the old laptop that Kobra was fiddling with.
“Got the wireless running hot. I’ve been trying to connect for the past week, Candy’s probably worried… She’s gonna be so pissed at me. She’s due in two months and we still haven’t figured out a name.”
“Ah-ha! I knew it!” Poison shook a finger at his brother and spoke in a sing-songy tone. “You’ve got a little dust angel on the way!”
Kobra stared impassively at him. “Well, Uncle Poison, since you “knew it,” I’m sure you must have been thinking about names. So, tell me some.”
Poison sunk down in his seat slightly. “Well, I haven’t really been thinking about that…”
“Quiet, fool. Kandy wants to name the baby Michael if it’s a boy,” Kobra looked set against the idea. He suddenly smirked at Frank, “Hey, maybe we can name it Frances if it’s a girl.”
Frank flipped him off.
“Sorry, dude, I already got a girl. I’m sure Poison will be glad to accept the offer though.”
The dry reply left Frank too stunned to answer. He settled for shoveling a large bite of pancake into his mouth instead.
“Are we starting with boy names or girl names?”
Kobra shrugged, “Boy names, I guess. Kandy seems to think it’s gonna be named after me.”
“Well it’s gonna if you don’t think up more ideas.”
“I don’t see you contributing anything to this project!”
“Yeah, well I’m not the father. How about Sean for a boy and Madeline for a girl?”
“No… Ron and Chloe? Wait, no those are lame.”
“Well Chloe has potential… Clark and Lois?”
“Hell no. This isn’t a comic book- it’s my child’s life!”
“Okay... Do you like Chloe though?”
“It’ll do.” Kobra frowned and thought on it for a moment, “Yeah, it’s alright.”
“Okay. So now if it’s a boy…Johnny? Cub?”
“’Cub’ is a baby bear, not a name. We’re not naming my child after an animal.”
Poison snorted, “Yeah, Kobra Kid, it’s a bad idea.”
“What about Gerard?”
“You are absolutely not naming your baby Gerard!”
“It’s as good a name as any!”
Frank watched Poison’s face fall into a steady stare.
“You are not naming your child after me,” he said in a low voice. “My name is dangerous.”
“Wake up and smell the 21st century, bro. Names aren’t unlucky. That’s a backasswards idea and you know it.”
The tension that had dropped down over their table told Frank that this argument was not a new one. The brothers stared each other down like a pair of wolves. It seemed only a matter of time before one lunged at the other.
He cleared his throat. “How about Caleb?”
Kobra’s eyes lingered on Poison for a moment before he pointed at Frank, “You! Getting hit this time made you smarter.” He turned his gaze back to the laptop before him and began typing furiously.
Party Poison dug in the pocket of his jacket, pulling out a couple of pills. He set one in front of Frank and swallowed the other with a deep swig of coffee. He refilled the cup from the pot at his elbow and handed it to Frank.
“I suppose there’s no cream or sugar?”
“Nope. If coffee is gold those are platinum out here.”
He swallowed a mouthful of the piping hot, bitter coffee, almost choking one the horse pill that went with it. It stung the little cuts Kobra’s flasher left on the inside of his mouth. Jeez, these people will me the death of me.
Grace slid down from her seat in the window and walked over to where they sat. “Do you like your pancakes Mr. Ghoul? Kobra said you liked veggies but those would be gross in pancakes so I put blueberries in ‘em. They were kinda freeze dried or somethin’ but...”
“They’re magnificent, Grace, thank you very much.” He smiled at her. The girl’s ability to make his heart melt surprised him. Maybe it was the crash helmet and puffy vest that added just the right amount of tooth-rotting cuteness?
She stepped around the table to look over Kobra’s shoulder at the computer screen. “What’s that?”
It took him a moment to answer. “It’s code.”
“Can you read it?”
“Yes.”
“What’s it say?”
“Important things.”
“Oh.” She looked bummed out that he wasn’t the same friendly guy he’d been back at D’s safe house. “Dr. Death Defying is showing me how his radio stuff works.”
“Is he really?” Poison answered her because Kobra’s eyes were locked on whatever he was reading.
“Mhmm,” she replied.
“Is he gonna let you put out some soundwaves?”
Her eyes got big. “Think he’d let me?”
He shrugged with a musing smile, “He might. Maybe you should go ask him? I know one thing’s for sure- you puttin’ out some seriously slaughtermatic sounds would be about the shiniest thing to happen around here in a decade. You’d have to get a code name, though.”
“You mean like you have?”
“Yup,” he nodded, “and you’ll get to make it up yourself, too. Whatever name you want.”
Her brow furrowed in concentration. “I don’t know what it’d be…”
“How about you go ask Dr. D to help you? Then, when you have a name picked out, you can ask him about broadcasting.”
“Okay!”
He watched her leave then turned to his brother. “What’s wrong?”
Kobra snapped the laptop shut and jammed it into the bag at his feet. “I need to leave. Now. There’s a Drac raid on the House where Kandy is stayin’ before the day is out. Fuck! Why didn’t I hear about this bullshit sooner?”
Poison swallowed the rest of his coffee in one gulp, some of it dripping down his chin. “Where ya goin’? You need the key to the car! Show Pony! You hold down the fort while we’re gone.” He trotted out of the diner after Kobra.
The derby diva saluted him.
“Do you have any experience evacuating people?” Jet Star fell into step with Frank.
“None.”
“Basic rule one: leave no one behind even if that means you get left behind. Stay with me, alright? The panic is contagious.”
“10-4,” Frank murmured and climbed into the back of the Trans Am.