Archive of Our Own ^beta

Ghoul was Uncomfortable.

Actually, 'uncomfortable' was an understatement, mainly because Fun Ghoul had never seen a thesaurus in his life, but honestly, it was probably just because his discomfort was so profound and embarrassing and (in his opinion) just downright stupid, that the only word that could be put to it was just...
Uncomfortable.

The Fab Four and co (including Cherri Cola and, of course, their adopted lil sis, The Girl) were camped out in an abandoned motel somewhere out in the Zones, and while it could only be temporary, it was fucking nice to sit in plush chairs in an actual living room, and still all have separate beds.

What wasn't fucking nice, was that Poison had coincidentally picked up a guy at a bar that same night, and currently wasn't joining them in the 'lap of luxury'.

But it wasn't that Ghoul was a jealous guy, you know? That's not why he was uncomfortable. If it was, he sure as hell wasn't gonna admit it to himself. He was always cool with Poison's attitude to relationships, and he knew that Poison was just... the best in the physical department, and all these casual fucks and friends with benefits meant nothing, and that he and Poison had a special something... or something. Right? Yeah? No big deal. Their bond was beyond a simple "kink-same". Besides, it's not like he and Poison had some fucking monogamy vs polyamory agreement to settle out. Ghoul was pretty sure polyamory only applied to actual committed relationships. It didn't even matter anyway, because they always had each other's backs, no matter what.

What did make Ghoul fuckin uncomfortable was Cherri Cola sitting across from Jet in the plush-ass living room foyer whatever thing, and discussing it.

The Girl was asleep in one of the rooms, and Kobra was probably god-knows-where-else having a smoke by himself, leaving just Jet, Cherri, and Ghoul in the room. And obviously, the conversation was gonna shift to Poison. Jet had good intentions - he had a motherly instinct, and he was just wondering if the Heart Attack In Red Hair Dye was doing okay. He and Cherri thought a bit about Poison's current flavour of the week, and Jet voiced a few concerns.

All good. Nothing to grind Ghoul's gears, man.

But Cherri... he probably had some pure intention, but maybe it was the unfamiliar softness of the chair, maybe it was the beer he'd had earlier in the evening, or maybe it was the cigarette taking the edge off, but he all of a goddamn sudden started sprouting some psychobabble about how "maybe he sleeps with a lot of guys in an effort to validate himself, like it's an anxiety thing."

Jet made a concerned murmur of agreement, an unspoken "go on?", before Cherri added his last 'sympathetic' comment, while taking the longest, slowest drag on his smoke.

"Poor, poor, slutty Poison."

This is what was making Ghoul dig his nails in the side of the damn couch. It wasn't that he was jealous, see? No, it was the fact that Poison was being discussed--

"--LIKE A FUCKING TV SHOW CHARACTER!!"

Jet and Cherri stared, shocked, at Ghoul, who couldn't entirely remember standing up and having an outburst, and would probably never admit to having had any control over his own temper. Jet's expression was a sad mix of shock, heartbrokenness, and concern (thanks mom), while Cherri had the fucking decency to look embarrassed.

Before Mama Jet Star could ask if Ghoul was okay, and before Cherri could get in any shred of a word to make an apology, Ghoul bolted towards the doorway, and marched into the motel corridor with enough force that even his greasy-as-shit hair could do some sort of Pantene commercial bouncing thing. He just... couldn't deal with anyone's shit right now, and kind of wanted to avoid his own.

He had absolutely no idea where he was storming off to, as usual. He never did. He usually was under some impression that the adrenaline alone would carry him wherever. Who could he talk to right now anyway? The Girl was nice when you wanted to speak to someone Good and Pure, without feeling pressured to tell her every little detail of your problem, but she was probably too far in Dream Land to want to cheer Ghoul up right now. Kobra was a goddamn cryptid, and would probably come back in a few hours with a nearly empty cigarette box, and a keg of beer the enigmatic fucker managed to smuggle out of nowhere. Besides, he wasn't much of a talker anyway, even though he was probably secretly a great listener. Ghoul sure as hell wasn't gonna run to 'zone dad' Dr Death Defying several miles away. He just wanted to talk to someone to the point where he forgot the angry thoughts that had suddenly been forming in his head. But the only person he really wanted to talk to right now was...

Poison.
Goddamnit, Poison.

He actually felt pathetic just thinking about it. About how riled up it made him. He felt like a lovesick puppy, like some middle schooler who wrote their name down with their fucking crush's last name over and over in their notebook. He couldn't believe he got so pissed off just because they were talking about Poison behind his back. Aside from the use of the S-slur (it's the year twenty-fucking-nineteen, Cherri), were they really saying anything bad about him? Jet was just concerned for Poison's wellbeing with someone who, to the rest of the gang, was technically a complete stranger.

Maybe Ghoul was jealous.

Could he help it? Ghoul would never admit to the fact that he took every bit of affection he could get, practically worshipped every hug he got, every soft touch to his hands or face, even any ruffling of his hair, whenever it came from someone he trusted. He was touch-starved when the other Killjoys found him years ago.

A little pathetic half-feral child, sitting in a bush, kicking and screaming when they tried to drag him out, his thoughts reminded him.

And as much as he loved affection, he'd never go looking for it himself. He didn't wanna be that sad kid again. He knew when he tried, even just a little, he was doing something wrong. Hanging on to Jet for longer than necessary during one of his soft, parental type of hugs. Suddenly touching Poison's knee lightly and giving him a Look while the boys were just trying to play cards. Anything that practically screamed 'I need cuddles or something'. He just... felt like he wasn't raised with proper boundaries (hell, he'd barely been 'raised' at all until the gang found him when they were kids), and every time he tried, he felt like he just reminded them of that.

So all he was left doing was pining like an idiot for one of his best friends, the one who called the shots, the one with soft red hair that made you recognise him from a distance and already start prickling in anticipation for his mere presence, the one who was filled with so much energy he was practically more Duracell Bunny than human, the only person with an amount of energy to match Ghoul's, and was enough like him to talk him down during a Rough Time, with soft hazel eyes that--
God, he was out of Ghoul's fucking league.

"You want a can of soda or what, Spooky?"

Fun Ghoul was now outside, grabbing onto the patio railing and feeling the soft sensation of the crisp night air, when he suddenly whipped around and saw Kobra.

"Well? Soda?" the lanky kid asked from his position on a wicker chair. "Last chance, bro. I will drink every single one of these while you have another internal monologue in there. I will need the biggest piss and have no regrets."

"Gimme one of those, you weird bastard," Ghoul half-sighed, half chuckled, reaching his hand out for a can of grape soda and lowering himself into one of the other patio chairs. "Do you just sneak around hoarding shit for the hell of it?"

"Ssssss," Kobra jokingly hissed in confirmation, a glimmer of a smile appearing on his usual straight-line of a mouth. He probably winked, but Ghoul couldn't tell, because the little shit still wore shades at night. Weirdo.

"Living up to your true legacy as a sneaky snake, I see?"

"You living up to your name and ghosting out of the living room?"

"Fuck off," laughed Ghoul. "That doesn't even make sense anyway. Besides, do you just sit around spying on everyone?"

"How else do you think I have dirt on everyone?" said Kobra, smirking. "I sit on rooftops with my sonar bat hearing, and my shades hide weird clairvoyant eyes."

"Sure, kid"

Kobra slid off his shades, wiping them off on the bottom of his shirt. His eyes were, of course, normal hazel eyes. Like Poison's. "Actually, I just heard you screaming from here. Your voice carries, man."

Ghoul have a sudden, shocked laugh at that. "You bastard!"

"I half expected a window to break."

"Don't rub it in, asshole."

"Okay, I'll take it easy on you."
There was a pause, before Kobra Kid continued, "You know my brother can take care of himself, right dude?"

Ghoul sighed. This guy was either barely talking at all or, now, trying to have a fucking heart-to-heart or something.
"I guess I know??" Ghoul offered. "But.. hell, I guess I just didn't like hearing Cherri talk about Poison behind his back like that?"

"Hmmm, I see," Kobra murmured in agreement. "Cherri's a nice guy when he's sober. As you might know. You just gotta handle the fact that he gets really psychobabbly when he's drunk." He took a sip of his Coke. "One time, he tried to diagnose me with depression."

"See? He's coming up with shit, you don't have dep--"

"Oh no, I do," Kobra said, sliding his shades back on like he was a Cool Guy on CSI Miami or something. "I'm just saying he gets needlessly analytical about shit."

Ghoul struggled to come up with a response that wasn't 'holy shit, Kobra, are you okay?'
Instead he said "but maybe he wouldn't talk about Poison like that if you were there?"

Kobra made an expression of mock, exaggerated horror. "Me? A law-abiding asexual 18-year-old? Sitting where some older kids are drinking and talking about sex?? I will not be tempted, Fun Ghoul!"

Ghoul attempted to jokingly slap Kobra's sunglasses off. Kobra caught Ghoul's hand, rolled his eyes, and continued talking. "Of fucking course he's not gonna talk about Poison's sex-life in front of his kid brother. That's disgusting. He'd sure as hell talk about it in front of Poison himself though."

Ghoul considered it for a moment, still kind of laughing at Kobra's mock-indignation. "Fair point. But--"

"Poison would literally just laugh it off, my dude," said Kobra, practically reading Ghoul's mind. Shit, that kid was weird.

"And--"

"Look, I feel uncomfortable impersonating whatever lewd thing my sibling would say in response to that, but I bet it'd be something like-- " he put on his best Poison impression. "'Oh no sweetie, they come to me to validate themselves'".

Now it was Kobra's turn to try jokingly slap Ghoul, as the latter was cracking the fuck up at the Poison impersonation.

"OH MY GOD"

"'Yeah, that's what they all say,'" said Kobra, still in Poison's voice.

Ghoul wiped a a tear from his eye and tried to catch his breath. "You're enjoying this so much, aren't you?"

"No. I told you I'd never roast Poison by saying whatever lewd shit he says. That's just the stuff I would say in a hypothetical situation if I was roasting him."

"Sure, kid." Ghoul had to inhale and sigh again to get his lungs back to their pre-laugh state. "This is the only kind of Poison roasting I like, man."

"I'm sure he'll be happy to know his husband only accepts the finest roasting."

Ghoul took a sip of his soda, only to sputter it all out like a cartoon cliche. "I'M NOT HIS-- Holy fuck dude, I'm just...!! I just meant... I'm just... jesus, I'm... pathetic."

"Y'know, if Cherri were here, he'd say 'he's just self depreciating because--'"

"ENOUGH, that was barely funny the first damn time, Kobra!"

"Okay, okay, jesus," said Kobra, raising his hands in a surrender, and looking mildly shocked at his friend suddenly snapping. "I'm sorry, man. What's got you so worked up today?"

Ghoul stayed silent. Which is usually what Kobra was supposed to be doing. It sure seemed fucking better that way.
Eventually, after what felt like half an hour, Ghoul just decided to ask: "why are you talking so much tonight anyway? Aren't you usually the strong, mostly silent type?"

"Sugar rush," said Kobra, wiggling his eyebrows and taking another sip of his soda. How many cans had he drank already now?

"Kobra," Ghoul sighed, actually trying this time. "Do you think I'm pathetic?"

"Depends on your definition of pathetic, man. I'm pretty sure one definition is just 'has a lot of feelings'. You sure do have a lot of feelings, man."

"Good to know," Ghoul mumbled.

"Like anger."

"What?"

Kobra put on his Poison voice again. "'You're an angry, angry boy.'"

Ghoul softly chuckled over his soda. "Thanks, man. That actually seems like an okay definition... or whatever."

"Were you meaning the fact that you wanna make out with my brother?"

"Wh-- piss off, man"

"Dude, you can't ask me stuff and then tell me to piss off. Or maybe don't say the word 'piss' around me at all right now. I drank a lot of these."

Ghoul started laughing again, this time softly, not like the startled forceful laughter from earlier. "Okay, fair point, you got me, man."

"Good. I thought I was gonna need at least another hour."

"I'll have you know, Kobra," Ghoul started, "that it's not like I haven't made out with your brother before."

"Oh god, please don't give me details of every time you've fucked, it's just gonna make me uncomfortable, and that's not gonna be constructive in this conversation."

Ghoul giggled like a smug little kid. "There was this one time we--"

"NO." Kobra slammed his hands over his own ears. "Ghoul, stop laughing, stop doing that, it's GROSS."

"You uncomfortable yet?"

"I'm beyond uncomfortable. I am Uncomfortable," he said, pronouncing it in such a way that you could practically hear the capital letter.

"Good."

Kobra removed his hands from his ears and aggressively inhaled, before slowly sighing, like he was trying not to slap him. "Don't get smug about it, but he really likes you Ghoul."

"Well, I'd hope so. I'm part of his gang and we all spend time together--"

"I mean he Likes you, dumbass."

"I... oh..."

"Not in just the 'I love everyone in this squad cuz we gotta stick together like a family' way. I mean, he thinks you're special or something. You're not his Friend with Benefits or whatever the hell he calls it. It's been like that since he met you. Why do you think every guy he has a thing with has to be introduced to us and then meet your decidedly low standards before he'll even consider staying in touch."

"Oh."

They were silent again, the only sounds they made for a while were the sips of their sodas, and the cracking open of new cans. Ghoul was on his second one. Kobra was probably on some kind of world record number.

After what felt like an hour, but was probably only a few minutes, Ghoul decided to ask one more question before he felt like his shit was resolved.
"Not to sound like a walking Ask Abby..."

"Yeah?"

"But about my question from earlier... do you still see me as the weak little kid you guys found in the bushes that one time?"

Kobra's eyes nearly popped out of his shades. "Weak?? Dude, you literally kicked and screamed all the way back to Dr D's base! The only reason you couldn't claw Jet's back half to death was because his leather jacket was fuckin bulletproof or something. You were wild, my dude! Excuse the, uh, pun."

Ghoul smiled shyly, which was a rarity for him. "Really?"

"Not gonna lie, I was fucking scared of you! You didn't talk much, you'd just shriek. I thought you'd claw my face off!"

"Awww, is this why you don't hug me, Snakey-wakey?" Ghoul asked in a babying, mock-heartbroken voice.

"Screw off, I don't hug anyone cuz I'm not a hugger. Keep that sappy shit away from me."

"Affection is dumb and gross and I will drown you in it."

"I will karate kick your arms off, Spook Boy."

Ghoul playfully nudged Kobra, and giggled.

"You happy now, Ghoul? My brother likes you, Cherri's not a dick, and you're just a standard sad sap instead of a pathetic one."

"Yeah," he sighed, smiling broadly and leaning back. "I guess I do. Sorry for all that."

"No problem. When this conversation is done though, I'm gonna need you to remember: this didn't happen."

Ghoul mimed zipping his lips.

"Anyway," Kobra continued, trying to get up, "I think I'm gonna radio Poison when I'm done using the bathroom. If you wanna keep talking to me instead of being left alone with Jet and Cherri, you can come with me."

"I can uh... I can wait until you're done peeing you know?"

"It's probably gonna take me like an hour to get rid of all these fucking sodas. You won't last alone talking to drunk Cherri that long. You coming?"

"Fine."

Ghoul jokingly put his arm around Kobra as if to steady him, before Kobra swatted it off and said something about "i need to pee, not faint, jackass."
***

The moon was getting higher in the sky over the next hour, and soon, dust was kicked up by the motorcycle of a certain red-haired punk arriving back to base.

FIN