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Poison won't let Gerard fuck him. Not that Gerard's asked, or anything, but Poison's got some standards and that's one of the ones he holds fast to. (Asking why is likely to get you punched. Or shot. Poison doesn't like to talk about it.)
They've mostly confined their activities to quick and dirty hand jobs in the corners of Fuck You clubs or scuzzy bars, or blow jobs in empty storage closets and alley ways (And one memorable time in the backseat of the Am. Poison remembers that particular instance with a great deal of fondness.)
So, it's not like they've had much in the way of opportunity to really fuck. Because as much fun as it is to blow Gerard in semi-public places, to jerk him off and swallow his moans so no one knows what they're doing, Poison has no intention of getting caught with his literal (or metaphorical) pants down. (Ghoul would never let him live it down. Ever.)
Besides, fucking is what you do when you're serious about someone. And Poison doesn't let himself get serious about anyone. Not anymore. (Not since Chibi had broken his heart and set it on fire, the thieving bitch.)
("What did you expect? You met her when she was trying to hot wire the Am." Kobra pointed out rationally. Poison just glared.)
He doesn't let himself care about anyone outside of his crew and while he has some really goodtimes with Gerard, that's all it is. Maybe he hooks up with Gerard more than his previous casuals, but so what? Doesn't mean anything other than Gerard's good with his hands and his mouth. (Gerard has this thing, where he licks his palm, making it wet and slick, before wrapping it around Poison's cock and—yeah, Poison likes that.)
("Dunno, Poison. You see him move on stage?" Ghoul thrust his hips in a crude parody of sex and leered at Poison. "He could probably fuck you through the floor." Poison tackled Ghoul and sat on him, tickling him until Ghoul cried uncle through his giggles.)
Gerard's really different than anyone else Poison has met. Poison likes him, not just for the things they do to each other in filthy bathroom stalls, but for his heart. Gerard wants the world to be a better place for everyone: Zonerunners, motorbabies, Dracs and the good little citizens of Bat City.
Poison doesn't think it'll ever happen, not while BL/ind is still around. Gerard's vision of what the world should be helps Poison remember what the Killjoys are fighting for. Why they're risking their lives. Make some noise, motorbaby.
And he's not so sure about the details, but the big picture? Yeah, he can get behind that. Glitter and kittens for everybody. ("Kitttens?" Ghoul just giggles and giggles.)
Poison does things that he wouldn't normally do, because of Gerard. Like kiss. Kissing isn't something he does lightly. Kissing has consequences, like getting your heart broken or catching a disease.
Gerard kisses as if it's the most important thing in the universe, focusing every fiber of his being on the kiss. It's intense and addictive. It makes Poison shiver and thread his fingers through Gerard's sweaty hair to hold him still while he drinks from Gerard's mouth. ("More," he pants against Gerard's lips. "More.")
Sometimes they just spend time together, which is not something that Poison usually does with anyone but his Killjoys. Poison sits and listens while Gerard makes these grandiose plans to change the world, watches intently as Gerard sketches and smokes, little cartoon Poisons running away from little cartoon Dracs. Sometimes he draws caricatures of people he's met out in the Zones and Poison is amazed at the likenesses that he manages with just a few, quick strokes of his pen.
He makes Poison laugh, and that scares him.
(He watches Gerard draw Mikey, over and over, tracing his features out in pencil, in chalk, in ink. "He's the best part of me," Gerard says. Poison can only shake his head. "You are the best part of you.")
For a while, he finds other things to do, other people to spend time with; there's always raids and work parties and engines to rebuild. It's too much sometimes, being with Gerard.
("I'm not letting him fuck me." Poison was firm on that. Jet looked baffled. "Um, okay?")
Gerard has him pinned up against a wall; the night is hot and dry and the music of some band is vibrating through the air. Deftly, he unbuttons Poison's pants and reaches in, wrapping his sweaty hand around Poison's dick, teasing and slow. It's distracting; all Poison can think about is the the heat bleeding into his skin and the slickness of Gerard's fingers. His other hand's resting against the small of Poison's back, and Poison doesn't notice at first as it slides down, down, in. Gerard's touch is sly and knowing and—"Fuck!" Poison throws his head back and stills for a long moment before Gerard pushes his finger in deeper and Poison's gone, biting his lip to throttle his moan. (Afterward, Poison pushes Gerard away, muttering about getting back to the show. He can feel Gerard's eyes following him.)
Poison has a hard time keeping secrets around Gerard. Gerard has this way of teasing them out of Poison and Poison hates that. His secrets are his, one of the few things that belong only to him and he doesn't like sharing them. ("Who's this?" Gerard asks, touching the picture that was buried under a pile of paper. Gerard's finger traces over the the familiar face and Poison steels himself. "No one," he answers flatly.)
("My mom," he says later, in the darkness. Gerard just brushes his hair back and kisses him softly.)
Gerard is a dirty, filthy cheater, which pisses Poison off. Whenever they find a horizontal surface, it's a race to see who can make the other come first, like a twisted game of oneup. Poison is not a gracious loser in any sense of the word and Gerard uses every trick in his arsenal to win. Sometimes he digs in with his ragged nails, leaving behind trails of heat on Poison's skin, scoring Poison's thighs and ass. Sometimes when they're sixnining it, Gerard hums fragments of songs while he's sucking Poison off, snatches of melodies that Poison can almost but not quite identify. (He has to pull off of Gerard's cock, snorting laughter, when he recognizes Vampires, because it's so wrong. He sees the flash of Gerard's smile and nips at his belly in retaliation.)
("Fucking is more that sticking your dick in a hole. You do know that, right?" Poison flips Kobra off, because yeah, he knows that. "I have principles." Kobra doesn't outright laugh at him, but it's close.)
He's not sure how it happens, but one night Gerard nudges him over onto his belly. He's so relaxed and drowsy that he does it without a second thought, rubbing his face against the pillow. Gerard's hands feel good on his skin, stroking up and down his back, soothing. His right on the edge of tipping over into sleep when Gerard gently spreads him open and starts licking. Poison jolts into wakefulness and thinks about struggling when the pleasure washes over him, lapping at him the way Gerard's tongue is lapping at his hole. ("Oh, fuck," he whispers, clutching at the pillow. Gerard just hums softly in reply.)
(It doesn't take long before Poison's writhing under Gerard's mouth, broken words and half-formed pleas spilling onto the sheets.)
("You're an idiot," Ghoul says. "You'll let him fuck you with his tongue but not his dick?" He spits in the dirt. "Idiot." Poison's not willing to concede the point, but he's not really wanting to fight about it, either.)
Later, when he finally admits to himself that he wants Gerard to fuck him, Poison rubs up against him like a cat in heat at a dingy bar, grinding his ass against Gerard's cock, grinning when he feels how hard Gerard is. ("Want something?" Gerard asks dryly. Poison can't figure out how to ask; he's no good with words, so he just finds them an empty bed for the night and pushes Gerard down.)
In the end, he's gasping, pulling hard on Gerard's hair, but Gerard just kisses him ("You don't want it enough," he murmurs) before sliding down Poison's body and sucking his dick until his back arches and he comes with a cry that might be Gerard's name, might be nothing at all.
And damn him, because now that Gerard knows that Poison wants it, he teases Poison, using his mouth and tongue and fingers. Poison's so frustrated that he snaps and snarls at everyone. (Jet and Ghoul douse him with a bucket of cold water, ignoring his outraged howls.)
("Please," he sighs against Gerard's mouth. "Please—")
Gerard relents, eventually, but in the end Poison counts himself the winner in their game.
-fin-