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The crowd went wild as Mad Gear wrapped up another song with clashing cymbals and one long, sustained note from the Missile Kid’s guitar. In the back of the concert hall through, Party Poison and Fun Ghoul barely noticed the crowd’s excitement when Mad Gear announced their final song.
Poison had Ghoul backed into a dark corner, fingers tangled in his hair as they made out frantically. He tightened his grip and Ghoul moaned. Not that Poison could hear him over the screaming guitar, but Ghoul’s mouth slid off of his in the way it only ever did when Poison had him moaning helplessly.
Poison dropped their forehead to Ghoul’s shoulder and grinned, panting. For a moment, the two ‘joys just breathed, sucking in deep lungfuls of hot humid air. Before Poison really had their breath back, Ghoul stuck his fingers through their belt loops and pulled their hips forward to meet his. Poison took it as an invitation to return to what they’d been doing and straightened up slightly to kiss Ghoul again.
Their mouths met and instantly began to move just as hurriedly as they had before their break. Shamelessly, Ghoul licked into Poison’s mouth, encouraging Poison to do the same with another moan that vibrated across their locked lips. Poison dropped his hands from Ghoul’s hair, wrapping one against the back of Ghoul’s neck to pull him closer and the other coming to grip his hip, pushing him back against the wall firmly. Seemingly satisfied to be crushed between Poison’s hips and the grimy brick of the concert hall, Ghoul freed his hands from Poison’s belt loops and slid them under his shirt.
Ghoul’s hands were hot against Poison’s back as he slid them up the sweat-slick skin to rest against their shoulder blades. Pulling back for just a second, Poison took in the sight of Ghoul, His greasy hair was mussed from their hands, his mouth was bruised, shiny with spit and the remnants of Poison’s lipgloss. Apparently, Poison took too long in looking at his boyfriend because Ghoul’s eyes fluttered open and the barest hint of annoyance crossed his sharp features.
Mumbling unheard apologies, Poison leaned down again, firmly kissing Ghoul’s mouth before moving across to his jaw. When Poison nipped at Ghoul’s earlobe, his hands clenched convulsively where they gripped Poison’s back. The sting of Ghoul’s fingernails only encouraged Poison more, and he sucked a hickey into the hinge of Ghoul’s jaw. Ghoul dragged his nails down Poison’s back, he arched into the touch just slightly before moving again, dropping hot, open-mouthed kisses down the edge of Ghoul’s jaw and biting at his chin lightly.
Held flush against Ghoul, it was hard for Poison to properly trail kisses down his neck like they wanted to, so they dropped their hands to Ghoul’s thighs, gripping the backs of them and lifting Ghoul up to a more manageable height. Evidently very pleased with the new position, Ghoul wrapped his legs around Poison’s hips and his arms around their neck, tangling one hand in their hair, holding their face securely to his neck. Poison rasped their teeth against Ghoul’s adam's apple, which bobbed as Ghoul swallowed a gasp. Sweat dripped down Ghoul's neck, whether from the heat of the concert hall or from the effort he was putting into the makeout session Poison couldn’t tell, but they were just as eager to lick away the droplets where they had collected on Ghoul’s throat.
Neither of them noticed the roar that meant the concert had ended, nor the brightening lights of the venue. But when the Missile Kid clapped a hand to Poison’s back they dropped Ghoul and reached for the ray gun that usually sat in their thigh holster.
“Jus’ me,” smirked the Missile Kid, raising his hands.
“Fuck, Missy.” Poison had the good grace to look apologetic for nearly trying to shoot the musician. “‘S th’ concert over already?”
The joint between the Missile Kid’s lips issued a thin stream of smoke as he took in Poison’s dishevelled appearance and the blooming bruises on Fun Ghoul’s neck as he picked himself up off of the ground.
“Guessin’ you were payin’ close attention?” Missy scratched at the side of his neck pointedly.
Poison’s face grew even hotter as a blush crept across his cheeks, Ghoul slid his hand into his and raised his chin at the Missile Kid haughtily.
“Encore’s don’ matter anyway,” he stuck his tongue out and snatched Missy’s joint, taking a small hit before passing it back. “Jet ‘n Mad Gear backstage?”
“I think they had th’ same idea ‘s you,” complained Missy. “Jus’ came t’ tell ya that I’m crashin’ at th’ diner because I don’t wanna share a room with ‘em tonigh’.”
Poison nodded and pressed a kiss to Ghoul’s cheek. “Let’s hit th’ redline, then.” They led their boyfriend out of the concert hall, Missy following behind them.