prompt: ghoul finds a skateboard
If someone had told Ghoul he’d one day break his ankle off a skateboard in the desert, he’d have reported them to Better Living. Now, being rushed back to Dr. Death’s shack in the Junkyard with one of his feet out of commission and Cherri Cola cursing up a storm in the front seat, Ghoul just wanted to punch Pony in the head for even suggesting he look at the skateboard.
It sat merely a foot away in the back of the van with him. It was so fucking cool, too, like one of the desert gods out there crafted this Hell on tiny wheels with him in mind specifically. His foot felt… numb, kind of, which wasn’t a reassuring feeling whatsoever. He really just wanted to sleep forever now.
A thunderous rumble sounded outside. It sped by as quickly as it came, followed by another fading boom, signifying that both Jet and Party were doing the whole ride-ahead thing they seemed to do best in situations like these. A slightly quieter rumble that stuck close to the van on Route Guano told Ghoul that Kobra was right outside, riding alongside them. Kobra’s bike had always been a lot quieter than Jet’s—it was a newer stolen model, after all—and Ghoul was especially thankful for that now, when his head was throbbing so hard he could feel it in his teeth.
The murderous skateboard still sat there looking all innocent, neon green and plastered with skulls and knives and chains. It was so cool. Fun Ghoul twisted to he wasn’t looking at it anymore but, in doing so, he jostled his injured foot. He let out a strangled noise and flopped back down onto his back, staying as still as he possibly could for the rest of the eternity-long ride back to D’s. He attempted not to fall into unconsciousness, but didn’t quite succeed.
Ghoul only woke up when strong but lanky arms wrapped around him. This, at first, panicked him—it could’ve been anyone, trying to grab him up and steal him away to a life of misery—but then a soft, warm voice hushed him.
“Ghoulie,” Kobra breathed. “Hey, just me. I’ve gotcha. Don’t worry.”
He squinted up at the blanket of too-bright clear blue above him, trying to register why he was being carried. “Wha—?” He jostled his foot again and yelled a curse. Kobra rocked him which, strangely enough, seemed to calm him a lot.
“Let’s go see D, yeah?” he suggested.
Ghoul was too tired and in pain to argue, just responding, “Yeah,” and leaving it at that as Kobra Kid marched him through the Junkyard and into the shack.
Ghoul, Kobra noted after the fact, was needy and compliant after the fact.
As it turned out, this was the very first time Fun Ghoul had broken a bone ever, which was kind of good but he also didn’t quite know how to handle it. He was usually a master at handling this sort of stuff—the most level-headed while sick (he got sick the most), the most well-managed while injured, the neatest when it came to his clumsiness. But breaking a bone? No previous experience locked away in that steel trap of a mind he had.
Dr. Death had done the best he could to plaster the broken bone—and he did damn well, if Kobra had any say in things—and now Fun Ghoul was looking more droopy than fun, all laid up in Pony’s cot like he was. His foot, the left one, was inclined while he stared blankly up at the ceiling with his hands resting on his sternum. It made Kobra nauseous to see him like this.
The Kobra Kid sat at the edge of the cot on his boyfriend’s right side and rested a gentle hand on the uninjured ankle. Ghoul made a soft groaning sound and shifted. Kobra could practically hear the wince. Destroya.
“What happened, exactly?” he asked as he turned to look at Ghoul. Ghoul met his eye for only a second before he averted his gaze again, and Kobra took his hand away. He knew how Ghoul got uncomfortable with touch a lot—even from him.
“It was Pony’s fault,” Ghoul grumbled, facing away from his boyfriend.
“Yes, and that’s why you’re using their bed tonight,” he reasoned. He left a pause. “Did you have fun, at least?”
Ghoul was silent for long enough that Kobra figured he’d gone to sleep before the older Killjoy said brashly, “That skateboard is the devil.” Then, much quieter, he added, “Yes.”
Kobra smiled at the small victory. He leaned backwards a little, just so his lower back was pressed lightly against the side of Fun Ghoul’s leg. “You think you’d need some company tonight? You know, nurse watch? To make you feel a little safer, of course.”
They both knew, if anything, Show Pony was the most qualified nurse in the building currently but it didn’t stop Ghoul’s face from lighting up. He made to shift but the Kobra Kid was the quickest thinker out there, and a faster doer. He was nothing if not impatient and active.
Kobra lifted Ghoul bridal style and moved so that he laid down on the cot before moving so Ghoul lied perfectly flat on top of him, fit elevated once more and the top of his head tucked just so under Kobra’s chin. The sun was high outside, but the blankets nailed over Pony’s windows prevented much light coming through. Kobra did his best not to fidget. Ghoul had brought up one knuckle to chew on.
“Here,” Kobra said, grabbing at the necklace he kept on him in case Ghoul’s wasn’t readily available. He passed it down and Ghoul began gnawing on the soft leather piece instead. Kobra set one hand on his boyfriend’s forehead, pushing his hair back and out of his face. “Better?”
Fun Ghoul hummed an affirmative. He was nodding off now, eyes half-lidded as his working jaw began to slow. Kobra continued the gentle carding through his boyfriend’s hair. If he had to do anything to relieve his constantly buzzing energy, this would be it. Working to calm down his anxious, wired love.
Kobra Kid’s mind went static for a while. When he came to, blinking drearily from his un-sleep, Ghoul’s mouth had fallen open on the leather strip and he was snoring softly. They were both slippery with sweat, but Kobra couldn’t care less.
The Fabulous Killjoys were one man down and one skateboard up, and maybe Ghoul would have to be a little less at their next concert, but Kobra would look forward to carrying him around for a little while if his boyfriend would hop on the skateboard again. He deserved to have fun. He was, after all, Fun Ghoul.