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Chapter Text

Dew was freshening up in the greenroom mirror right before the show. There was always this chaotic, electric-tinged energy before the ritual started. This tense exhilaration as they walked out onstage; the lights down, the crowd's pulsing fervor surrounding them like a Secular Haze. But even through the mirror, Dew couldn't see Swiss sneaking up behind him to tug one of his suspenders playfully.

Snap!

"Hey, motherfucker!" Dew yiped, the tweaked elastic a sharp sting along his back. They were all like this, pulling practical jokes on one another, teasing one another. But there was something about the way that Swiss pulled his chain that got Dew more than worked up. He could barely admit it to himself, this more-than-a-friend craving that he felt whenever he was around the multi-Ghoul.

"Come on, we'll be late." Swiss chided, resisting the urge to hold Dew's hand to pull him along, to make sure he was following behind. The stage was dark and welcoming, the air tinged with excitement as they started the first song. The show went off without a hitch and Dew caught himself staring at the multi-Ghoul up on his platform more than once. He immediately tore his gaze away. Swiss was just a bandmate, a friend. Why was he suddenly having these types of feelings?

As the show came to a close, they all filed off backstage and Dew caught himself staring again, before Aether slung an arm around his shoulders and chortled in his ear about how he bet he could drink more than Dew. The guitarist readily took the bet, needing something to distract himself from Swiss' ethereal handsomeness.

Hours later, and sufficiently sloshed, he pushed twenty bucks into the rhythm guitarist's hands, stumbling to the bathroom to relieve himself. He put his forehead against the grungy tile, the cool surface clearing his head the barest amount. Why was he still feeling this way? What was it about Swiss that just revved his engine all of the sudden? It's not like their interactions were anything new. They'd done the show a dozen times over and even a week ago, Dew wasn't this drawn to the multi-Ghoul. What was different? And why now? The door creaked open and Dew heard a familiar voice.

"Dewdrop?" Swiss peeked around the door, stepping into the bathroom, "Everything alright? The guys were gonna head back…"

"Okay. Be right there, just need to clear my head."

"Should I wait for you?"

"No need. You can go too. I'll be fine." The multi-Ghoul closed the door with a grunting acknowledgement and Dew picked a freshly cool spot on the wall to rest his forehead. He wanted space to think but he also just wanted to crawl to Swiss on his hands and knees, begging him to put his mouth on him somewhere; anywhere. The guitarist's groan filled the bathroom, it reverberated off of the walls and shot back into his skull like a migraine. Why were his thoughts a jumbled mess? Why was it so difficult to sort out his own feelings? It's not like he wanted to feel this way. It just sorta happened. And he was powerless to stop it.

Dew splashed some cold water on his flushed cheeks, letting his eyes linger over his own face in the mirror. There was no way Swiss felt the same way about him. Just look at him; he was a complete mess. Drinking himself stupid nearly every night like he was running away from something. Like he wanted to forget something. His clawed fingers scraped against the porcelain sink. He wished he could forget the way Swiss looked up on that platform, gyrating for the fans. Dew lost himself in the sultry movements of his hips, his hands; caressing his guitar like the most experienced lover. Dew wished Swiss would touch him like that. More cold water. What was wrong with him?

He finally felt like himself enough to exit the bathroom after having usurped the rest of the time basically hiding from his problems. Dew opened the door to see his current problem leaning against the opposite wall, waiting for him.

"Feeling better?"

"I guess." Dew ran a hand through his hair and avoided the multi-Ghoul's gaze. They walked down the hallway and back to the bus. Dew was oddly silent, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, being alone with Swiss like this. It was supposed to be chill, casual, but his mind was making it a huge fucking deal right now and he had no idea what to even say.

"You shouldn't drink so much."

"You're one to talk!" Dew bit the inside of his lip. Why was his temper flaring up now of all times? He was finally alone with Swiss for more than five seconds and here he was itching for a fight like usual. Damn his mouth.

"More like Aether shouldn't goad you into drinking so much. You know you can never win against him, so why keep trying?"

"Hey! I've won…once or twice." Dew flinched as their hands brushed accidentally. He pulled away as if he was the one who'd been burned. The cool night air soothed his burning cheeks as they stepped out of the venue. The bus stood as looming and silent as an abandoned castle, but the inside was as raucous as a seraglio in full swing. Aether was slumped across Papa's lap who was trying to chat up one of the Ghoulette's who was giggling like a schoolgirl at one of his lewd jokes.

"There he is!" Aether crowed standing from the bench, "I thought you'd be in there forever! Good thing we sent Swiss to check on you or you might've gotten lost." The rhythm guitarist's slurred laugher grated on Dew's nerves and in an uncharacteristically soft voice he begged off to his room, the party roaring at his back. Swiss took a seat next to Mountain, Rain dozing peacefully in his lap; the bassist could fall asleep anywhere. The drummer petted his head gently, speaking in a gravelly tone only Swiss caught.

"How's it going?"

"Can't complain. You two look comfy."

"You don't. You look like you're watching the love of your life board a plane without you."

"That noticeable, huh?" Swiss mused, glancing towards Dew's closed door.

The guitarist hid in his room after the next show, and the show after that. Swiss hadn't tormented him since the last time with the suspenders. He almost missed it. His head felt a little clearer than before, the brief respite giving him some time to think. But his feelings hadn't seemed to cool at all. His mind was still muddled with churning warmth whenever he thought about Swiss. The stage performances didn't treat him any better either, the multi-Ghoul still hyping up the crowd, and him, with his blatant sexual displays.

They were all in the greenroom again before the show. Dew was trying his best to not stare obsessively at Swiss, choosing instead to focus on the sweet way Mountain and Rain were huddled together, the drummer's fingers lightly caressing Rain's cheek as the bassist flushed in his strong arms. They wore matching smiles, foreheads pressed together; in their own world among everyone else yelling and drinking and cursing. It seemed so idyllic as he watched them surreptitiously through the mirror, completely oblivious to Swiss for once.

"Hey, Dew!" He heard the rhythm guitarist caw from across the room. He turned, expecting to see Aether galloping over to him, but instead, his main-mental-squeeze was suddenly standing chest to chest with him, reaching out as if in slow motion, to snap both of his suspenders cheekily, the perfect smirk scrawled across that delectable mouth.

Snap! Snap!

Aether chortled at his hand in the well-executed practical joke, and his hyena-like laughter drowned out Dew's voice in the room to everyone but Swiss. The pluck of those suspenders found the guitarist's nipple rings in just the right way to make Dew flinch pleasurably, eyes going half-mast. He couldn't stop himself from loosing the most deliciously low whine, as if it had been meant for Swiss' ears alone.

The multi-Ghoul's ears pricked at that faint, mouthwatering sound. He was expecting Dew's classic playful irritation, but this new side of the guitarist made Swiss' heart tighten. He had only ever known Dew as a bandmate, a cheeky prankster, like him. So hearing this secretly brazen side of the guitarist made him throb.

Dew straightened self-consciously, glancing with wide eyes quickly around the room to see if anyone had noticed the debauched whimper that he had just let slip. It was a complete accident! he wanted to yell, Swiss' stupidly good fingers. It was just a lucky shot. He didn't actually like stuff like that. But not even Mountain, who seemed to notice everything, had heard his flustered sound. Then Dew caught Swiss' eye, still standing dangerously close to him. Too close. The guitarist flushed. Swiss' gaze held his secret like a broken thing, flaring at the crinkled edges of the multi-Ghoul's eyes. Did he hear? He must've. He couldn't have. Sweet Lucifer, Dew hoped he hadn't. How could he not have heard? Dew was mortified at his own lusty reaction. But this changed nothing. He hardened his gaze, trying to keep his cool, to save face in front of his monstrous crush. Why was he still standing so close?

"Tsk, nice try. It'll take more than that to get one over on me." Dew spat, brushing past Swiss with a callous hand. He wanted to run to the bathroom and scream his lungs out. Swiss had definitely heard the mortifying sound he had just made. Dew felt like he was being flensed one smile at a time by Swiss' knowing look.

This was certainly an interesting development, Swiss pondered. He wondered how much more teasing Dew could take before he finally cracked like bone china in the multi-Ghoul's grasp. He wanted to hear Dew make more of those delicious sounds. But he couldn't push too far too soon or Dew would just get worked up and seclude himself to gnaw at his brain like a wild animal caught in a trap. Swiss wanted this to be fun, and last for as long as possible. He loved the chase; the thrill of the hunt.

But the show must go on and as the bright, hot stage lights flicked on, Swiss found himself performing not only for the crowd, but also a little bit for Dew; trying to beguile the guitarist every chance he got. He watched as Dew paraded around the stage, playing it up for the crowd. Swiss could tell with just a glance at his back, and the crowd's shrieks, that Dew was licking his fingers. He had to steel himself against screwing up his own rhythm, mind flashing to the way Dew would gesture lewdly, nearly as bad as Swiss himself.

But all of this showmanship only fueled Swiss' desire to catch the guitarist's eye. And once the multi-Ghoul had it, he put one-hundred-and-ten percent behind trying to rile him up. Swiss caught Dew staring shamelessly at him as those curious eyes bored into his. Swiss swore that he could see steam rising off of the guitarist when he locked eyes with Dew during Monstrance Clock and licked his guitar suggestively. Dew tore his gaze away to Swiss' bemusement. After that, the rest of the show was a breeze, his ears ringing from all of the applause when they stepped off of the stage. Swiss could no longer deny his fatal attraction to the guitarist, but he wanted confirmation from the Ghoul's own lips.

Chapter Text

Dew's mind was fuzzy again as the band dispersed backstage. His pulse fluttered as images of Swiss' tongue, sliding hotly along the neck of his guitar, flashed in his mind over and over again; those heavily lidded orbs burning into his. Was Swiss just yanking his chain to get a rise out of him? This couldn't be just another prank, could it? The multi-Ghoul's actions seemed like more than teasing, but how much more?

Dew couldn't shake his desire to be more than friends. Being forced to be around Swiss day in and day out had dulled him to the multi-Ghoul's antics. The fact that they worked, ate, drank, smoked, and even bunked near each other constantly made everything so damn confusing. He barely had time alone to process it all. Dew was used to all of them getting a little taste of Swiss' cheekiness; not having all of it directed solely at him.

When they were in the same room; when he wished Swiss would catch his eye suggestively, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, Dew's heart hammered in his chest. He felt drawn to the multi-Ghoul, desperately wishing Swiss would look his way. But when it really happened he balked and got shy and nervous, his non-existent soul threatening to leave his body. Fortunately, he was itching to give Swiss a little taste of his own medicine.

The next morning the guitarist ordered himself the biggest iced coffee he could get his hands on, hoping that the caffeine would give him something else to focus on besides thinking about Swiss' sexy antics the night before. He sipped at his drink, having poured a few generous shots of booze into his cup. They had all gathered in the venue to do a bit of rehearsing and Dew was nursing his morning alcoholic beverage and chatting with Aether while they waited for the singer, who was always habitually and fashionably late.

"No, that's what I'm saying, the mixing sounded so scuffed last time, if we could just get the…" But Dew wasn't listening to the rhythm guitarist. His ears were currently attuned to the sound of Swiss' voice, complimenting Rain on a job well-done during the last show. The bassist totally deserved it. His riffs were some of the smoothest in the band and he clearly never skimped on practicing, seeming to have either the drummer or his bass cradled gingerly in his fingers. Dew was almost jealous. The two of them were sickeningly sweet, always snuggled up together. If he was being honest, the guitarist was sure his own love language was 'being a cheeky asshole'. Dew was mesmerized by the husky timbre of Swiss' voice. He always spoke to people as if you were the most important person in his life at that very moment. As if there was no one else he wanted to talk to, wanted to look at. And apparently Dew was so focused on the secondhand praise of Swiss' words for the bassist that he completely lost track of himself. Again.

"Hey man, uh.."

"Hm?"

"Didn't you order an iced coffee?" Dew glanced down at his cup, nearly boiling in his grip.

"Oh, shit!" He quickly rushed to put down his drink, his hands burning hot. Swiss glanced over with a knowing smirk as Dew nearly dropped his coffee. How does he seem to have this fucking magical power over me? Dew thought. Asshole. The rehearsal was good enough for government work as Dew willed himself not to get distracted. It seemed to take a Herculean effort, but he managed somehow, promising to get the multi-Ghoul back for all of his overly-sexual antics directed solely at the guitarist. Two can play at this game, Dew chortled.

Swiss had his feet up on the coffee table, flipping through his phone well before the show. He finally had some blissful time to himself. Mountain was spending some of his own alone time with his drum kit and Rain, Aether was giving his sound booth suggestions to Copia and the tech team. Which left only Dewdrop. Swiss felt like after rehearsal he hadn't seen horn or tail of the little bastard.

Speak of the Devil, as the guitarist walked into the greenroom, all haughty looks and dangerous fingers. Dew didn't say a word as he stepped unassumingly in front of Swiss. The multi-Ghoul was about to open his mouth to ask what Dew wanted before the guitarist gently, firmly took hold of Swiss' wrist, guiding the vape he was holding up to his own waiting mouth without asking. Dew took a generous drag, exhaling the sweet smoke back into Swiss' face with a bemused wink. The multi-Ghoul didn't know whether to smack him or kiss him. Instead, his lips formed the words, "You cheeky fucker!" around his bared fangs. But before he could exact his revenge, Dew was scuttling out of claw's reach and out the door.

As the set list was slowly whittled down, Dew found himself drawn more and more to Swiss' platform. He had his own small riser at the front of the stage, but every chance he got he would stand in front of Swiss' unholy pedestal. They began the chords for Cirice and the guitarist was pulled back to his own side of the stage, casting a furtive glance at the multi-Ghoul.

Dew was possessively pulled towards Swiss, his feet moving on their own, as the chorus began. The multi-Ghoul was holding his tambourine still as he gripped his mic stand, grinding his hips forward into it. Dew turned his back to the audience, sensing that there was something he had been spawned to witness. Swiss was singing the chorus harmony, his eyes burning red hot into Dew's,

"Can't you see that you're lost....Can't you see that you're lost without me." The multi-Ghoul gave him a sultry wink, reaching his hand down towards the guitarist,

"I can feel the thunder that's breaking in your heart..." Dew had to bite the inside of his lip to stop his fingers from trembling on the frets, wanting to extend his hand to Swiss; to feel their fingers touch. He broke their sordid eye contact and watched as the singer romanced a girl in the front, his own heart threatening to burst from his chest.

The crowd was cheering for Copia, but Dew thought their noise was just as loud for the two of them, watching Swiss clandestinely extend his hand, as if he could save Dew from the mire below; from his own churning, beastly thoughts. Dew felt like he was wading through bog water with what a struggle it was to move back to his riser, hearing Swiss' melodious tone,

"...I can see through the scars inside you..." At that moment, he felt like Swiss wasn't playing for the audience, but just to him alone. Dew kept his cool for once, leaning back during his solo, thinking, Watch me. I'm doing all of this just for you. He stepped down from the riser, drifting back towards the multi-Ghoul again, those eyes locked onto his own, drawing him in. Swiss' look was smoldering and carnal. There was no jest in those fathomless eyes as Dew tried to not screw up the rest of the song.

Stepping from the stage, Dew and the other Ghouls were buzzing with adrenaline, just like every other show. Usually Aether tossed a muscled arm over his shoulders, dragging him along. But this time, Dew's heart was in his throat as Swiss drew near, entwining his claws secretly in the guitarist's own. The multi-Ghoul squeezed for the briefest moment before pulling away without looking back. Dew stopped moving. Such simple contact. So brief and yet so welcome. He stared down at his palm, looking intensely, as if he could see the heat left against his clammy skin as blatant as infrared. As if all of the heat in his body had been transferred to this one focused point, leaving his heart clenched and cold.

The other Ghoul's voices faded into the distance and he was left standing in the hallway, alone. Dew's heart was quickly becoming a tangle of warring emotions that even he wasn't sure he could sort out.

Chapter Text

Swiss had been on his best behavior for the next few shows but Dew's nerves were singed. He was trying to find a way of inflicting a taste of the multi-Ghoul's own medicine and had finally come up with a plan. They were only halfway through the set and Dew finally found a lull in the song to wander across the stage to Swiss' platform. He stood there, expectantly, gazing up at the oblivious guitarist.

Dew lolled his tongue out suggestively, silently asking for an offering; waiting to receive the unholy sacrament. Swiss finally noticed, holding their smoldering eye contact. Dew's heart was pounding. The multi-Ghoul towered over him from above, mind suddenly overwhelmed with thoughts of what Dew would look like on his knees, gazing up at him like that, Swiss' cock resting heavily against his tongue.

Kneeling on his hassock, trapped on his altar, he held the vape to Dew's lips; as irreverent as a dark prayer. Dew's eyes were affixed to his profane god's as he received the sacrament, inhaling the smoke from this portable censer. Swiss' gaze was once again filling his vision, devouring him from the other side of eternity. Dew tried not to think about the indirect kiss he was currently sharing with Swiss as he tore his mouth from the vape, stalking back over to his riser with a cloud of lust pluming from his lips.

The guitarist's heart was hammering so loudly he was sure everyone could hear it; pulse racing as they finished the set. He hoped that his cheeky little plan to get a rise out of Swiss didn't backfire onto him. But the multi-Ghoul always seemed to find ways to make Dew's jabs into something he'd end up paying for later anyway. Swiss was a master manipulator and he drew the guitarist ever closer towards his inevitable destruction regardless of what Dew did to avoid it.

The others had left for a few rounds at the local bar and Swiss had declined, claiming he wasn't feeling up to it tonight. In reality he just wanted to find somewhere private, letting his mind wander to fantasies of bending Dew over an equipment box. He couldn't bear to even look the guitarist in the face after the show. Not from embarrassment, but from unsatisfied hunger; a longing for Dew that was eating him from the inside out. He couldn't bear to be alone with him, worried that if they were by themselves he would no longer be able to control himself. His unfathomable lust to devour would win out and he wasn't ready to spoil the thrill of the hunt just yet. Just a little longer.

Swiss' hand tightened against his cock, leaning against the backstage wall, hidden in the shadows with his jeans around his thighs. He closed his eyes, breath heavy as his mind easily dug up the fresh grave of his dirty thoughts: Dew's hauntingly filthy sounds as Swiss snapped his suspenders playfully, the debauched, lascivious moan that fell from that mouth, just begging to be kissed clean. The multi-Ghoul's fingers tightened against his weeping sex, twisting at the head just the way he liked, brain tripping over itself to provide him with jack-worthy content.

A groan hitched in his throat, trying to keep quiet. Swiss' cupped himself with his other hand, hips stuttering off of the wall, fucking up into the prison of his fingers. How would he be able to keep his cool around the guitarist now? Imagining Dew's damp, pink tongue sliding against him, sucking him deeper into that tight, slick mouth. Swiss shuddered, his climax rushing up faster than usual. The guitarist really had gotten to him after all. He took forbidden pleasure in how easily he was brought to his peak just thinking about all of the things he wanted to do to Dew, and how the cheeky bastard deserved every second of it.

Swiss' release shot hard over his fingers as he bit back a moan, hearing it splatter in the darkness. His softening cock dribbled against his knuckles and he almost felt bad for not being able (or willing) to clean up his own mess. In a moment of hubris the multi-Ghoul put his hand to his lips, sucking his knuckles clean; fantasizing about Dew lapping the spilled fluid off of his fingers, making himself hard all over again.

He heard Copia before he saw him, heels clacking on the black-painted floor. Swiss quickly stuffed himself back into his pants, moving to a more visible location. The multi-Ghoul hopped up onto a crate and struck a contemplative pose, hoping that the singer wouldn't be able to smell the sudden, desperate reek of sex on him,

"Swiss?" The effeminate Italian called, moving further into the blinding darkness. He finally noticed the multi-Ghoul perched on an equipment box looking suspiciously pensive.

“Hey. Where’ve you been? We’ve been wor-Ooh, shit! Che cazzo (what the fuck)!!” Copia swore, slipping on something on the floor. He caught himself and straightened his jacket, a miffed tone lacing his voice,

"Who the fuck is in charge of cleaning up around here?!?" Swiss stifled a laugh, knowing precisely what the singer had nearly eaten shit on. He seemed to have forgotten why he had come looking for Swiss as he gestured dramatically down at his shoes for the universe's benefit,

"THESE ARE ITALIAN LEATHER!" The Ghoul's slick was smeared all over the bottom of his shoe and he unknowingly and unceremoniously scraped it off against one of the boxes as he continued more calmly, "We were wondering where you had run off to. Everyone was worried."

Swiss shrugged, "Just needed a little alone time, I guess." He hopped off of the box and followed the singer back to the greenroom. Everyone was cavorting as if it wasn't past midnight. Dew had the small couch all to himself for now, as Copia strolled into the room, Swiss following behind. The guitarist glanced up, smelling something mouthwatering coming from the singer. It was this earthy smell that was both sharp and sweet. Dew's head snapped towards Copia, eyes following him as he sat in one of the overstuffed chairs.

Swiss came and took a seat demurely, casually next to Dew and the olfactory barrage absolutely assaulted his nose. This heady reek was coming from them both. What was going on? They weren't gone that long. But they both smelled like sexual conquest; the spill of molten passion. The scent from Swiss alone was nearly overpowering; a fatal mixture of sex and sweat. A commanding perfume that made Dew want to sink to his knees in front of the multi-Ghoul, present company be damned. It was driving him wild. He squirmed and took a steadying breath, trying to lessen his throbbing pulse in more places than one.

The party slowly died down, a few of the members excusing themselves back to the tour bus. Swiss stifled a yawn with his claws and followed suit, not bothering to look at Dew. In fact, the multi-Ghoul had barely tossed a single glance his way the entire evening even though they were sitting mere inches apart. Dew felt a twinge of jealousy; a prickle of disappointment at being summarily snubbed by Swiss. He knew that he wasn't the multi-Ghoul's center of attention. But what if he desperately wanted to be?

"I'll catch up." Dew waved Aether off with the others, just wanting to be alone. The rhythm guitarist shrugged and shut the door. Dew counted down thirty long seconds before jumping up to turn the lock. He had been aching all evening, and Swiss' intoxicating smell still lingered in the room. Dew collapsed on the couch, overly-abused from all of the bands who'd rolled through over the years. He hastily undid his fly, shoving a hand into his pants, claws dragging enticingly over his silken hardness.

A ragged sigh flew from his lips, louder than he had intended. Dew's mind flashed back to the scant hours ago onstage, catching the glint of Swiss' heavy gaze; flickering with the uncertainty of their positions for the briefest moment. Got him, Dew had thought, his plan to ruffle the multi-Ghoul for once finally paying off. His brain was at war with itself as he tried to imagine himself topping Swiss, being dominant and commanding, taking his pleasure by force if need be. But the more he thought about that daydream the more his cock flagged in his grip.

But he couldn't be the one to play a bottom bitch in this scenario. He was the one who took what he wanted, he was the one to control his own pleasure. Right? He thought back to the way he had felt while being secretly serenaded by Swiss from his platform; how his heart had clenched, feeling Swiss taking his hand, even for the briefest moment. Their steamy eye contact during songs. He longed for it all and if being on the bottom meant that he'd get more of that, then that's what he wanted.

A hot wave of shame spiked through his veins at the thought of subjugating himself to the multi-Ghoul. But his cock seemed to think otherwise. With every louche thought that crossed his mind, his dick gave a lusty throb. It was just his own pride that was holding him back. Holding him back from this delectable world of untold pleasures. But it was all just a dirty fantasy. The multi-Ghoul would never take him seriously, would never return his affections, no matter how true they felt in the moment.

Dew finally gave in to his double-sided mind, savoring the succulent thought of being completely overcome by his want of Swiss. He imagined the multi-Ghoul holding him down, driving into him with quick, rough strokes. Pressing his lips, his tongue, to that veined prize between Swiss' legs, his fingers clamping against those powerful thighs. The way Swiss would whisper a lascivious 'Fuck…' under his breath as Dew took him deeper into his mouth; the multi-Ghoul's guiding hand between his horns, fingers clenching in unbridled lust.

Prejack was dribbling over his knuckles as he lost himself completely in his dirty fantasies. His hand was working faster, gliding up and slamming back down to the base, body shivering as his back arched off of the grungy cushion. He was so close he could taste it, like honey on his tongue. The mingled scents of sweat and sex left behind from Swiss had seeped into the fabric of the couch and Dew's mind was buzzing with lecherous flights of fancy.

His eyes shot open in shock as the lock clicked open, his euphoric peak becoming a plummeting well of dread as he hurriedly tried to stuff himself back in his pants. The janitor glanced into the room and caught sight of Dew fumbling for a shred of decency. The man just rolled his eyes,

"Fuck, not again. You assholes." As if he dealt with people jacking off in the greenroom like once a week. Dew didn't know, maybe it was a really prolific issue. He flushed up to his ears, trying to cover up the blatant evidence of his misdeeds, mentally cursing his bad luck. He mumbled an apology and slid out of the door, stomping outside into the cool night air. It helped quell the heat in his cheeks but his palms were still burning, his make-believe scenario dashed to pieces. He wanted to finish what he had started, but with people around that would be nearly impossible. Dew vibrated with pent up rage and sexual frustration. He wanted to punch the first person he saw in the face and drink an entire bottle of booze. Then Swiss stepped off of the bus, walking towards him.

Okay, maybe the booze, and if he was being honest, he wanted Swiss to punch him in the face. Maybe it would recalibrate his brain enough to help him sort this whole damn thing out. Right now, his emotions could go straight back to Hell.

Chapter Text

Dew fished in his pocket for his cloves. His searching fingers came up empty in the pack and he crushed the box in his fist, wrenching it to the ground. Some nicotine would definitely help take the edge off of his nerves right now and those were his favorite. He made a derisive snort as the crumpled carton hit the ground and nearly jumped as a voice sounded behind him,

"Fresh out? Can I be of some assistance?" Swiss stood there like an avenging angel, waggling his vape like the most tempting ball and chain. Dew was once again drawn to the multi-Ghoul, aching and desperate. He was sufficiently riled due to being caught playing, unable to reach release; and now doubly irritated because of his lack of cigarettes. He reluctantly acquiesced to Swiss' offer.

"Please. You're a lifesaver." Dew began to reach for the vape but Swiss withdrew his hand,

"Walk with me."

"Wha-?" Dew was dumbfounded. He was just as happy to smoke here in front of the bus as anywhere, but the multi-Ghoul strode off into the velveteen darkness and away from the electric glow of the venue. Dew was going crazy. He felt like a puppy on a string, just being led obediently from one bait to the next. And Swiss seemed more than happy to lead him along until Dew did exactly what he wanted. The prize was more tempting than he was willing to admit, but for now, he would gladly kill someone for a hit off of that vape.

Swiss led them down the street and into a deserted park a little ways off. Dew was panting as they crested a hill. The view spread out before them, cascading down to the lights of the town proper, a sea of golden stars. Dew's palms were sweating. Swiss had tried to make small talk but the guitarist could only reply in monosyllabic grunts. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. All he could think of was how he hoped Swiss couldn't read his mind; all of his dirtiest fantasies gurgling up like a fatal wound.

He glanced at the multi-Ghoul, feeling a nip of jealousy gnawing at his nerves. He tried not to imagine Swiss' hands on Copia's slim hips, pulling their bodies closer together. The way the singer would sigh as Swiss pressed his thumb to Copia's chin, brushing his lower lip. His tongue begging for entrance into that warm mouth as his fingers dragged in a damningly sweet glide against the front of the singer's tight pants. The way Copia would plead for that friction, hips shooting forward into Swiss' waiting palm, the rough strokes the multi-Ghoul would give him as the singer drowned in Swiss' heady scent; enveloping him as the multi-Ghoul easily took what he wanted. 

Swiss sat in the night-damp grass and Dew collapsed beside him, feeling jittery and pent up in all of the worst ways. The multi-Ghoul finally, silently passed over his vape and Dew took a grateful drag, the nicotine filling his lungs like a tempting perfume. He leaned his head back and exhaled, noticing for the first time how captivating the night sky was. Out here, away from most of the city lights, the stars were bright pinpricks against the inky sky. Dew felt like there was a question hanging between them; this impenetrable veil of secrecy that neither wanted to brush aside and confront. He was lost in thought, entranced by the quiet, silken darkness around them. Even the moonlight seemed dimmed out of respect for their arcane rendezvous.

Swiss caught himself staring at Dew from the corner of his eye, entranced by the guitarist's face; distracted by the twinkling firmament while Swiss was utterly distracted by him. There was just something about the silent night, this perfectly presented opportunity for something forbidden; something clandestinely carnal to happen between them. Swiss had never more desperately craved kissing someone as he did at this moment. But there was still time to be cheeky about it.

Dew took another hit, the sweet smoke filling his lungs, passing the vape back across the fathomless space between them when Swiss gripped his chin in those sure fingers, drawing Dew's damp lips against his own. This seemingly innocent contact, such a damning propinquity to the object of his unrequited love. Swiss inhaled against his mouth, sucking the smoke from his lungs. Dew was left breathless and panting as the multi-Ghoul pulled away, exhaling his stolen hit into the cool night around them.

He hadn't planned on anything like this. Hadn't planned on being this forward, but everything over the past few weeks had seemed to be leading up to this exact point in time. Nothing seemed more natural in this moment than pressing his lips to Dew's. His heart was thundering, ringing in his ears, finding himself smitten and completely overwhelmed. He was drawn to the guitarist like a heart attack.

Dew froze. Unable to breathe. Unable to think. All he knew is that he wanted to feel that sinful pressure against his mouth again. Swiss' eyes crinkled in amusement as he caught the full force of Dew's bewildered look, and couldn't stop himself from reaching out again to brush the guitarist's lips with the backs of his claws, drawing Dew in, fingers against his chin. Not forcing, not squeezing, just guiding Dew's mouth back against his own to truly kiss him for real this time.

The guitarist imagined for a split second how rough Swiss would be with him: holding him down, grinding against him; those claws against his chest, fangs on his throat. But all of that was dashed to pieces as the multi-Ghoul's soft tongue probed for entrance; a gentle pressure against his mouth. He was completely unprepared for the lavish affection he was being showered with and he didn't know how to respond at all besides being absolutely overwhelmed by Swiss' passion, like some sort of high school virgin.

He was used to rough and ready coupling, blood and bite marks and possessive control. Not this. Not this heady seduction, this torrent of delicate, all-consuming fascination. Dew pressed forward, deepening the kiss, a small moan slipping from his mouth, swallowed by the multi-Ghoul's slippery tongue. It dragged over his fangs, Swiss' own canines tugging at his lower lip suggestively, which made Dew's pulse pound lower.

Swiss broke their contact to latch his mouth against the guitarist's throat, fingers sliding into Dew's hair; a covetous tug against his scalp. He leaned his head back lasciviously. Swiss straddled his hips then, that sinful pressure of the multi-Ghoul in his lap almost made Dew explode. This riotous clash of emotions collided inside of him and he didn't know what to do with himself. It felt like he was going out of his mind. But Swiss just ground his hips down, pressing their bodies together. The air around them was electric with sensual possibilities. Swiss guided Dew's hands to his waist, fingers slipping into the pockets of his jeans, holding them together. The multi-Ghoul's mouth continued lower, that slippery tongue dipping into the shallow pools of his collarbones, the hollow of his throat.

Dew gasped, unable to keep his voice contained as Swiss' hips bucked against his, that demonic tone slithering into his ear like the first spoken truth,

"Feels good?" The guitarist's brain was still in overdrive as Swiss' fingers cradled his skull. Dew desperately craved it rougher, but this slow, steady pace was singing along his nerves all the same.

"Can I touch you here?" Dew nodded helplessly as Swiss' hand slid against his covered hardness, Dew's straining cock jolting against the multi-Ghoul's fingers. He was burning up. This. This was the friction he was desperate for, the smoldering passion that he had longed to get just a taste of for so long. And now, Swiss was reeling him in so easily, giving him the whole damn buffet.

Dew collapsed against the grass as Swiss worked his pants open, hips moving in slow little circles as he undid his own fly. Putting on a show as the guitarist went insane beneath him. Swiss tugged his shirt over his head, stripping Dew's off, the cool grass a balm against his burning skin. The multi-Ghoul's lips on his, fingers tangled in his hair as Swiss held them together in his warm hand. Dew leaned his head to the side, mouth slack as Swiss' fangs grazed his fluttering pulse.

This erotic tenderness washed over him like an electric shock. His cock twitched in Swiss' tense grip as the multi-Ghoul rubbed them together, his hips creating a delicious rhythm against Dew's leaking shaft. Swiss kissed a damp trail over to his shoulder as gentle, enticing love bites bloomed on Dew's flesh like poisoned rosebuds, each oozing more hunger than the last. His eyes slipped closed. Gazing up at the diamond-shard sky above him was making him dizzy. Or maybe that was a side effect of being thoroughly worked over by Swiss' expert strokes.

Swiss' mouth was blazing hot against his already sensitive skin and a sordid yelp split the air as the multi-Ghoul tugged on one of the guitarist's nipple rings with his fingers as Swiss growled low in his ear. Dew didn't think he could get any harder, his cock leaking liberally against his stomach. Swiss smeared their mingled excitement over the twin cockheads, an impure whine lacing his mouth. Dew caught his lips again, leaning up into the smoldering kiss. Swiss' fingers tightened around them, stroking as his hips ground tighter against Dew's.

"Gonna come for me, baby?" Swiss' voice was ragged and laced with venomous lust. The guitarist's body was electric beneath him. Dew's hands clamped against the multi-Ghoul's shoulders, thrusting up weakly into the damning clench of those fingers. The guitarist's own breath was hitched and stuttering, his climax rushing up, ready to hit him full force. Swiss sucked a violent bruise into the side of his throat as Dew bucked under him, shooting across the multi-Ghoul's knuckles with a filthy cry,

"Nnngh, Swiss! Fuu-uuck!" Dew went rigid as his load spilled out in warm ribbons of heat against his stomach, those fingers like a vice around them. Swiss rolled his hips up, thrusting against Dew's velvet shaft, cresting his own peak as Dew watched helplessly, enraptured by the multi-Ghoul's gorgeous orgasm.

They were panting like beasts, sweat shimmering on their chests as Swiss released his fingers from around the two of them. The multi-Ghoul rolled off of Dew into the damp grass and sighed, resting the back of his hand against his forehead. Dew's voice sounded shaky as he fumbled for the right words,

"In the greenroom…" Swiss turned to look at him, their eyes still shining in the post-coital afterglow as Dew continued, "You and Copia had the same smell. He wasn't gone that long, looking for you, but I thought that maybe you and him were…" Dew couldn't bring himself to say it out loud. Swiss stared into Dew's uncertain face for a moment.

"You think that Copia and I…" Swiss pointed at himself and then his face broke into an uncontrollable smile, "You think because we both reeked of what, sex?" Swiss quirked an eyebrow at Dew who tried to reign in his jealousy,

"Weren't you? How else do you explain you both having a matching scent?" Dew's voice was edging on hysterical. Swiss' smile was infectious as he turned to Dew, resting on his elbow.

"Let me tell you a  story, Dewdrop." The multi-Ghoul ran his claws gently down the guitarist's cheek, "You know how I begged off drinking tonight?" Dew nodded, eyes bright as Christmas morning, listening to Swiss' confidential tale, "First off, it's all your fault, with that damn tongue of yours." Dew took that as an invitation to loll his tongue past his teeth suggestively as the multi-Ghoul continued,

"Yeah, like that. Do you know what that did to me tonight?" Swiss punched him playfully in the arm, "So I wanted to, you know…" Swiss mimed jacking off, "Backstage." Dew's eyes went wide. They were in the same fucking building and he missed his chance to voraciously eavesdrop on his crush pleasuring himself. Damn! That was a whole smattering of daydreaming he'd have to save up for later.

"So, I…finished my business, and that's when Copia came sniffing around for me." Dew smirked, imagining the singer on the hunt for Swiss.

"Then why did you both smell the same?" Dew quirked an eyebrow, his fears slightly abated.

"When I was done, I didn't want him finding me like that, so I put myself back together and acted as casually as I could. And when he came looking well, you can probably guess the rest." Swiss mimed Copia skidding on his spent fluid as Dew collapsed into a cackling fit of laughter beside him.

"Oh my fuck! He didn't! Hahahahah!!! Oh, shit, I can't breathe!! It hurts!" He was rolling on the grass, holding his sides, imagining the singer's ridiculous look as he nearly ate it, slipping in Swiss' spilled cum. That thought was going to sustain him through the rest of the tour. His laughter died down and Swiss was smiling at him, one of those adorable lover-boy smiles that just melted Dew's heart. His look turned serious as he lowered his gaze to the grass,

"I was worried you didn't actually like me or whatever when I noticed that you and Copia came in together. I thought you had, you know, moved on or gotten bored of me."

"Oh, baby. You know you're the only one for me." Swiss reassured him, stroking his cheek.

"Are you sure?"

"Don't these prove it enough?" The multi-Ghoul ran his fingers against the purpling hickies on Dew's throat, "Or do you really want me to show you some fucking proof?" Swiss' smile was predatory and the guitarist felt that clenching flutter in his stomach. The saccharine romance was nice, but this damningly hot control was what he truly craved from Swiss. They stood up, brushing grass from their pants. Swiss stifled a chuckle,

"I didn't know I'd had that much of an effect on you." Dew looked back. There was a smoldering outline of his body burned into the grass where they had lain. He smirked and quirked a sharp eyebrow,

"Did you just find me that smoking hot?"  Swiss ribbed, clasping Dew's hand, leading him back to the safety of the tour bus.

"You have no idea." Dew leaned up to peck Swiss sweetly on the mouth.

Chapter Text

They stepped back onto the bus and it was oddly quiet. The party must have been cut short. Papa emerged from his room at the sound and his shocked, silent look grazed over Dew. The singer tried to hide a cheeky smile as he disappeared. The guitarist exchanged a look with Swiss who shrugged. Dew went into the bathroom to relieve himself and a ghastly shriek split the quiet silence. He rushed out of the bathroom and gripped Swiss' shirt with his clawed fingers. A bloodcurdling growl gurgled from his mouth,

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?! I can't walk around like this!" Dew gestured to his mangled throat, peppered with purpling love bites. He crumpled against the couch, gripping his hair in clenching fingers, "Oh man, Aether's going to have a fucking field day when he sees this."

"You didn't seem to hate it so much at the time." Swiss tilted Dew's chin up, eyes focused on the guitarist's steely gaze, "Pleasure looks so good on you, Dew." Swiss tilted the guitarist's head to the side, admiring his rough handiwork. Dew shivered at that, remembering Swiss' hands on him, stroking them both to blissful completion. His cock gave a self-satisfied throb. He longed for more. More of the multi-Ghoul's consuming passion. Dew swallowed, steeling his nerves, standing chest to chest with Swiss. If the multi-Ghoul could play at being a sex god, then so could he.

"Do it again." He backed Swiss up against the table, fingers curling against the waistband of his jeans, pulling their bodies closer. Dew's look was haughty and carnal. He'd get those pants on the floor one way or another. But Swiss' look was cool, tangling his fingers in Dew's hair, tugging his head back to expose the long line of his throat. Dew keened in spite of himself. The multi-Ghoul's warm breath plumed against his fluttering pulse for the second time that night as Swiss' fangs grazed his throat. Dew felt his sanity slipping again as Swiss' hungry timbre slithered into his ear,

"...Patience." And then the multi-Ghoul was gone like a puff of smoke, leaving Dew's pulse pounding in his throat. He was left standing in the common area, with his fingers clenching the edge of the table, his claws leaving deep, unsatisfied gouges against the metal.

The next few days were torture for the guitarist. No matter how hard he tried, he could never catch Swiss alone for more than five goddamned minutes. He would never admit it, but there was just something about the multi-Ghoul that made Dew want to sink to his knees like never before. He was used to being the dominant one, using others for his pleasure; but around Swiss, the guitarist just lost himself completely. At this point, he was willing to do nearly anything to get the multi-Ghoul in bed with him. But it would be on Swiss' terms or not at all.

Fuck.

They had been unwillingly separated all day before the show and Dew was going stir crazy. He needed Swiss' hands on him, even just once, or he was going to go insane. It didn't even need to be sexual. He'd accept any form of contact at this point. The greenroom was packed with all of them, limbering up, practicing, touching up their hair and makeup. Dew was fiddling with his suspenders and for once, Swiss didn't reach out to snap them. Instead, his fingers brushed down Dew's back in an enticingly comforting slide to grip a handful of his ass.

"Eat your heart out, baby." That husky whisper, breathed against Dew's ear. He was going to murder him. He was going to turn around and latch his claws around Swiss' throat until his skin turned blue. But the multi-Ghoul was striding away as they were called out to the stage. Dew played aggressively (well, more aggressively than usual) that night. He just wanted this show to be over so he could fulfill his sinful longings. Swiss was as chill as could be, playing up the crowd with his hips and his hands, seemingly oblivious to how Dew was practically melting the riser beneath his feet with unspent lust.

The show finally came to a close and Dew was uncharacteristically quiet. He stowed his instrument and strode back to the bus alone. But there were eyes at his back as Swiss followed a respectable distance behind. Dew pounded up the bus steps and yelped as Swiss' hand clamped around the back of his neck, steering him towards the multi-Ghoul's room. Swiss flung the door aside, pressing Dew's face down into the mattress. The guitarist's pulse was racing. Had he done something wrong?

"You're gonna get it now." Swiss hissed menacingly. Dew's cock throbbed. Swiss' nimble fingers tore the gaiter from around Dew's throat, pulling off his shirt and undoing Dew's pants, tugging the fabric down his thighs, not even giving the guitarist time to process what was happening before plunging two of his fingers inside Dew's slick, quivering hole. His body was molten hot as Swiss' digits squirmed inside of him. A ragged moan flew from Dew's mouth,

"Nnnngh! Aa-ahhh!" He was imagining their first time as something romantic, like the grassy hill a few days ago, not this brutal finger-fucking right from the start. He imagined having some semblance of control over their first penetrative sexual encounter, but Swiss had no intention of easing his pace as he worked his fingers in even deeper, just to hear Dew absolutely keen beneath him.

"Such a good boy, taking my fingers so well." Swiss purred in his pink-tipped ear as Dew clenched the bedspread in his claws. His hips were moving back on their own, heart in his throat as Swiss' digits fluttered inside his body. The tight fullness left him for the briefest moment as Swiss undid his own pants and resumed, plunging three fingers in up to the second knuckle, twisting his hand as Dew whined uncontrollably.

"Mmmm...mmmmm…" The noise that spilled from his slack mouth made Dew flush self-consciously. He'd never made a noise like that in his life. Sure, he'd played on his own hundreds of times, but he'd never been on the receiving end like this. Especially with someone like Swiss, who just pulled his submissive side out like he would pull a beer from the fridge. No effort, no thought, just doing what came naturally. The multi-Ghoul's slick shaft was nudging his inner thigh and Dew was so ready for the part that came next. He tensed his fingers, hearing the fabric tear in his grip as Swiss continued teasing him to distraction, his muscles clenched around Swiss' fingers. A sharp spank met Dew's cheek and he yowled at the stinging pain.

"Greedy boy." Swiss' guttural growl in his ear made the guitarist still, caught like a rabbit in the wolf's jaws, broken and powerless to fight back. Swiss hauled Dew up by his hair, that slippery shaft gliding between his cheeks. The multi-Ghoul pulled his fingers free and Dew whined at the loss, body rigid as Swiss lined himself up with Dew's slick entrance. Dew felt Swiss' tail curling around his thigh, holding him against the multi-Ghoul's body, as Swiss shoved forward ruthlessly.

Dew was drowning in pleasure. His mind was going haywire as Swiss bottomed out inside of him. Dew clenched around the multi-Ghoul's thick sex, mewling like he was in heat, wanting Swiss to fuck him harder. But as opposed to those rough fingers, driving into him in a knee-weakening shove, Swiss was grinding his hips against Dew's ass, just drawing out his arousal. Swiss was honestly proud of Dew, allowing himself to relinquish control like this. The multi-Ghoul knew what a hard ass he could be sometimes, so this almost demure submissiveness was a welcome change.

He felt this intoxicating mixture of awe and lust for Dew that made his heart (and something else) throb. His fingers tightened in Dew's unruly mane as he leaned close to murmur, "Mmm...Such a good boy..." Grinding against Dew's slick ass, pushing his hips forward the barest amount just to hear Dew whimper again. Swiss' mouth connected with the guitarist's pulse and he eased out slowly, sucking another dark hickey beside the ones he had left days ago. Dew moaned in spite of himself as Swiss claimed him.

Swiss wrenched his head back, fangs a sharp pricking sting against his shoulder as Dew's channel clamped around him greedily. The guitarist was losing his mind. This damnable teasing fuck was making thinking impossible. He just wanted more, rougher, faster. Please! Dew's fingers twitched as he blindly sought out those silver hand-holds. His fingertips grazed the multi-Ghoul's pointed horns. He finally got a grounding, solid grip when Swiss' clawed fingers scraped across his chest, catching his nipple rings. That spade-ended tail tightened on his thigh in warning.

"Nnnngh- Fuck!" Dew immediately let go, as Swiss smirked devilishly against his throat.

"Now you're being naughty." Swiss' voice was glass-shard sharp as Dew acquiesced to his punishment, the scrapes on his chest stinging. But it all just served to add fuel to the fire in his belly. Swiss throbbed inside of him, hips pressing forward in a blindingly hypnotizing grind. Dew returned his hands to his sides, his tongue loosening from the roof of his mouth,

"I'll be good. I promise, just..please…Swiss, touch me…" Dew lolled his head against Swiss' shoulder and the multi-Ghoul dragged his tongue along the salty sheer-cliff of the guitarist's taut throat.

"Is that humility I hear?" Swiss dragged his fingers along Dew's dripping shaft. It jolted against his fingertips; stiflingly hot. Dew's voice was a rumbling purr of bliss as Swiss gripped him between the legs for the briefest moment before pushing Dew down to the bed again, holding one clawed hand against the side of his head as he drove in up to the hilt in one gut-wrenching shove.

"Let me hear how truly sorry you are." Swiss' hips didn't stutter once as he thrust in again and again, the guitarist's helpless whines just igniting his dangerous passion. Dew clung to the bedspread again, Swiss' claws scraping down his back. He arched under the multi-Ghoul's wicked lust as those hands held his hips, causing his swollen cock to rub against the bedspread. His voice was a luscious spill of curses as Swiss drove into him.

"Ohh, fuck!! Swiss, please…please!" The multi-Ghoul couldn't get enough of that tortured begging as Dew was completely run ragged, sparks of desire shooting down his spine as the guitarist clenched around him. He was teetering on the edge of his climax, but wanted to see Dew spill first. His thrusts got rougher and faster as the guitarist howled beneath him, those silken walls fluttering around his shaft. Dew's body tensed as his orgasm crashed through him, a filthy cry painting his lips like fresh blood,

"Nnngh, ohh! Ahhh! Don't sto-Fuck!" Swiss couldn't hold back then, the guitarist vibrating around him as he came, an unearthly growl painting his mouth as Dew drooled in mind-numbing pleasure beneath him. Swiss stayed fused with the guitarist for a brief moment before pulling free. His warm release dribbled down Dew's thighs as Swiss retrieved a rag to clean them both up.

Dew, breath finally caught, climbed up onto the bed with Swiss who fished a pack of cigarettes from his bedside table. The multi-Ghoul pulled a pair from the box and handed one over to Dew.

"I thought you didn't smoke clo-Are these mine?!" Swiss didn't try at all to conceal his cheeky smirk,

"How else was I supposed to woo you away from the others?" But the guitarist wouldn't be silenced,

"You had them the entire time?" He begrudgingly put the cigarette up to his lips and poutingly accepted the light from Swiss' own smoldering cigarette. They both took a few grateful drags before the multi-Ghoul leaned over, brushing his fangs teasingly against Dew's love-speckled throat,

"How can I possibly make it up to you?"  Swiss ribbed as Dew fumbled his cigarette. It fell to the bed and left a smart little hole in the bedspread before he recovered it. Dew flicked his gaze to Swiss whose own look had turned from saccharine to predatory in an instant,

"Never mind. I guess you'll be spending the rest of the night making it up to me instead." For once, Dew had the presence of mind to put his cigarette down before he was tackled to the rumpled sheets.