Party looked up from the fire at his fellow killjoy, Fun Ghoul. His bright red hair spilled over his vision, clouding up the scene even more than the heat and smoke did.

Fun Ghoul was staring intently at the flames, looking really anguished. His longish dark hair fell over his face and his green eyes flickered in the firelight.

"Hey, you alright?" He asked quietly. Kobra Kid and Jet Star slept about twenty or so feet away, but Party Poison didn't want to wake either of them. They needed their rest. The harsh desert sand was unforgiving in all directions, never ending.

The days were unbearable sometimes. The nights were okay. Mostly because he got to see Ghoul, to really talk to his old best friend.

He sometimes missed the times when they were just Frank and Gerard, and when they could laugh and joke and when that amazing smile seemed to stay permanently on Fun Ghoul's face.

"Are we gonna die?" His littler friend whispered.

"What?" Party looked up again.

"I asked, are we going to die, Poison?" Fun Ghoul looked vulnerable and tiny, but at the same time dangerous. This mix made no sense in Poison's head, and it disoriented him to see him like that.

"No. Don't say that. We'll be alright. We'll fight more. We'll make it to the city. And to your birthday next week." Party Poison forced a smile.

"I don't know. Sometimes it feels so lost."

"Yeah. We all feel that way. But we can't think like that. It'll kill you, Fun Ghoul." Ghoul winced and stood up.

"Let's go and get the jackets." He said finally, and Party followed him. They walked a little ways to the abandoned shed where they had hung up their jackets to dry out from being washed clean. Of dirt, sweat. Blood.

Ghoul wanted some form of comfort from Party Poison, looking up at him as they walked. He wanted to look at his taller, older friend and get some kind of hope in his green eyes. But he got nothing, not a little smile, a wink. Nothing.

Come on. Just give me something.

Party looked straight ahead, his views on life harsh, carrying out each task with no emotion. Emotion was too dangerous.

Then, suddenly, they stood in the shed, the fluorescent lighting showing how dirty the both of them really were. Silence.

Party backed Ghoul into a wall. Fun Ghoul held his breath as his back pressed against it. Nowhere to turn. What if Party did something crazy? What would he do?

"Frank…" Party Poison whispered Ghoul's real name. It shocked the both of them, and then Party leaned closer to him and his lips brushed his cheek as he whispered into his ear, "I can't stand pretending I don't feel this way."

"Gerard…" Ghoul whispered back, closing his eyes for a second. Then, Gerard was in front of him, looking at him painfully.

"Please just… just… d-don't say… a-anything." Poison stuttered. He stepped back. "Don't say it."

"Party… we need to get back. It's late. We should… should get some sleep…" Ghoul pressed himself against the wall to put more distance between the two of them.

"I can't sleep lying next to you. And I know you're not sleeping, either." Party Poison said flatly. They both knew it was true. But Fun Ghoul wouldn't admit to that.

"I-I have these night… terrors. These… these tremors, and it's like- I can't shut my eyes because these awful things are there…" Poison went on, closing his eyes and shuddering. He looked so, so tired, though, when he opened them again.

"Come on. It's the heat getting to you." Ghoul tugged on the edge of Poison's black T shirt, trying to snap him back into reality. But Party Poison just shrugged him off.

"I'm sorry, Ghoul. But I just… I'm…"
"What is it, Poison?"

"I'm scared."

"Huh?"

"I'm scared. I'm going to lose everything I care about out here. Every last, little thing." Party Poison wound his fingers through Fun Ghoul's dark hair and looked down. "I'm gonna lose you, too." Ghoul grasped Poison's wrist next to his head, and looked up at him slightly. Party Poison held onto his hair tightly.

"Don't say that. We'll be okay."

"You don't know that. You don't have to lie anymore." He whispered back softly. Then, he stepped back, because they both knew that it was too hazardous to be that close to each other. So, so close. Not close enough.

Fun Ghoul almost reached out for him when he moved away. He almost said, Stay, just stay with me, stay like that. Please. Stay.

"Here's your jacket, Ghoul." Party turned and grabbed Fun Ghoul's vest and handed it to him. Fun Ghoul dropped it from his hands to the floor. "What the hell, Ghoul?"

Fun Ghoul mumbled an apology, but didn't reach for his jacket. So, instead, Poison picked it up and shook it out. Fun Ghoul kept his eyes down, unsure of what he was trying to do, or why he was doing it.

"You got it dirty again. Why did you do that?" He asked.

"Sorry," Fun Ghoul repeated. "Sorry."

"It's alright. Here- will you take it this time?" He asked. Ghoul just shook his head and tossed the vest aside. He grabbed Party by the front of his shirt and pulled them closer.

"Frank. No." Party Poison whispered, their faces inches apart. His eyes seemed to drift shut on their own, like he already knew what he wanted without really… knowing.

Their lips had never been so close. But still… they had always been careful. How many times had the each of them played this scene over in their heads?

It had happened before. It wasn't the first time they'd done something like this. But they couldn't just do it again. This was hazardous, dangerous… bad.

"Gee…" Fun Ghoul whispered back, shutting his eyes. And then Party began to panic, realizing what he'd gotten himself into, and how bad it was.

"It's wrong…" He started to say, but Ghoul's lips swallowed up his protests as their mouths met.

No; their mouths collided. At first, Party Poison was sort of resisting, not struggling just keeping his mouth shut and his hands away. And then, something changed; as much as he fought for it to feel wrong, it felt so right.

And then he gave in, gasping against Fun Ghoul's mouth and twisting his fingers in his hair again. Ghoul pressed closer, and thoughts raced through Fun Ghoul's mind: This is so wrong. Stop, stop. Stop. Just stop. It's not right…

Poison- no, Gerard's hands were everywhere and then he didn't even want to move, didn't want to do anything but kiss him back.

He didn't feel that way, the feeling of sickness and knowing how wrong it was just wasn't there. He was feeling so much, so strongly. For Poison? His thoughts were drowned out by Party's mouth moving against his.

Fun Ghoul realized that he didn't even want to. He hadn't meant to kiss Poison… it had just somehow happened. But now what could he do? He couldn't even stop himself. He couldn't control his hands, slipping up the back of Poison's shirt or tangling in his red hair. He couldn't help it.

He thought he heard him say, "No," but he wasn't sure and Poison didn't say it again. Ghoul's back was still pressed into the wall, and now Party Poison was pressed to him. There was no space between them, but still they fought to be closer.

Stop…

Party Poison feebly fought with himself over whether to stop kissing him or not. But when he'd try and move the shocking cold of Ghoul's lip ring would pull him back in. It occurred to him at a point how much he felt. He felt for Fun Ghoul. More than a friend, he realized. More.

Stop…

Did he feel the same, or was it a sun induced fantasy? Was he thinking the same things? And how could Party ever tell?

Or… was… was Ghoul showing him how he felt? And now how was he ever supposed to feel the same? How could he look him in the eye without remembering this?

"Frank…" Party Poison mumbled Ghoul's real name, his old name. It almost made Poison panic, that he'd involuntarily said his real name. He paused for a second. But Fun Ghoul replied with a breathy, "Gerard," Nothing more intelligent than just that.

Neither of them noticed.

It was like the one time before, the time in the dark hallway, before everything had fallen to pieces. When Party Poison and Fun Ghoul had only been Gerard and Frank, and when they'd both met nice girls and had nice things and nice lives.

Yet they still wanted each other more than anything. And that one night, it had been all Frank's fault, maybe, but they were both guilty when they'd let everything go too far and then confessed feelings.

And now they were heroes for their lost city and the lost people within it, with new names and new identities. They weren't Frank and Gerard anymore.

But they'd buried that, and sworn never to speak about it or tell anyone or do it again. But this… wasn't like the first time. This was less than the first time.

So why did Party Poison feel so much more like Gerard than he ever had before?

"We… can't…" Party pulled back, breathing heavy, his eyes and hair wild. "We can't." Ghoul's hands slid away.

"I'm sorry." Fun Ghoul blinked, shocked at what had actually happened.

"Oh my…" Party whispered as he realized what had actually just happened. He touched his own lips with his fingers lightly.

They looked at each other, wide eyed, horrified at themselves for what had happened. And scared. Scared for what the future would hold now.

Tears formed in Ghoul's eyes as much as he fought them. Party Poison wrapped Fun Ghoul in his arms, silently, but neither of them cried.

It had been years since they'd cried.

They didn't start now.

"I love you," One of them whispered. Neither was sure who, and it didn't need to be repeated. They both felt the same. What did they really feel? Fun Ghoul's mind started to drift.

They fell to the ground, together still, and sat there for a really long time, in a permanent embrace. The sun started to come up in the sky before they let go of each other. And even when Ghoul realized he wasn't comfortable or happy in Party's arms, he couldn't move an inch.

It seemed too perfect, and it was just too cruel to take this away from either of them.

"You can't… can't tell anyone." Fun Ghoul whispered. "You can't tell." He shut his eyes and tried to wish away his panic and the gnawing guilty feeling in his stomach.

"I know." Poison replied softly. It didn't need to be said.

The others just wouldn't understand.

As sad as it made the both of them, they knew that they would never be together.

Ghoul thought of his last girl. What could he call her? A girlfriend, maybe fiancé? And then he thought of her dark and beautiful eyes, and her dark hair and pale skin and beauty. And then he looked at Party Poison, and realized little else could be compared to his grungy red hair and pale skin and green eyes.

Is this what I want? Ghoul asked himself. Well, yeah, he wanted Poison. He looked at his tall, gorgeous, smart, and completely amazing friend. Friend. Only an idiot wouldn't want to love every inch of Party Poison. Every inch.

But did he love him the way he knew Poison loved him back?

He knew if he let this keep happening, and then at some point had to confess that he didn't feel the same, he'd destroy Poison. Party Poison was more like his old self now than ever, and Ghoul knew how sensitive and fragile he could be.

Could he let it go on without these feelings getting worse? He wanted to love Poison and make him happy.

But could he promise something like that?

It took a while, but Ghoul convinced Poison that they would be alright, and they laid down together in the sand. Eventually, Party Poison drifted off to sleep in Fun Ghoul's arms.

Fun Ghoul slowly moved away from Poison, standing up. He smiled to himself, choking back words. He couldn't speak now; he'd wake someone up. He took one last good, hard look at the beautiful boy curled up on the ground.

His red hair fell into his pale face, but he still looked so beautiful, so perfect like that. He even looked happy.

Fun Ghoul tore his eyes away and turned, walking away from the one thing he'd ever really loved in the crumbling world.

He had to leave. How else could he stay and face what he'd done? Poison deserved better. He deserved to forget and to love again. He couldn't be hurt anymore.

The pain Frank felt in his chest then could've and should have brought him to his knees. But he was used to pain. He shut his eyes and kept walking.

"Goodbye, Gerard." Frank whispered, and the wind carried his words away. He knew Poison would never know why, or never understand, but it was better this way. The night was freezing cold, and Frank felt it deep inside.

Frank tasted salt, and was confused, but then he realized he was crying.

For the first time in years, Frank was crying.