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“Oh, hell yeah!” Ghoul let out a braying laugh of triumph from back of the mall. “We’re gonna dine on this for a while, boys.”
Poison walked over to see what he’d found. A vending machine, one that was somehow still untouched and half-full of chocolate bars and bags of candy. Almost unheard of nowadays. Food was the first thing that got looted, and the shops and supermarkets and restaurants had emptied within months. But this one was tucked away out of sight between a former music store (mostly intact, power was a commodity that not many could afford to waste on record players) and one that had sold sports equipment (almost barren, sturdy outerwear and things to hit other things with were very much in demand). Perhaps that’s how it had survived. Or…
“Could be a trap,” Kobra said. He’d come sauntering from the opposite direction, gun held loosely in one hand
As often was the case, he’d taken the thought right out of Poison’s head, the words right out of his mouth. Poison licked his lips. He liked it better when Kobra did it with his tongue, but they were in the middle of a supply raid, so he’d let it slide. For now.
“You think someone got out the candy, poisoned it, and put it back in just on the off chance a rival group stumbled on the vending machine at some future point?” Ghoul asked, incredulous.
“It’s what I would’ve done.” Poison shrugged.
Kobra grinned and pointed a finger gun at him.
Ghoul rolled his eyes. “Yes, but you two are the kind of brand unhinged others can only aspire to.”
If anyone else said that, Poison would’ve slit their throat. Or had Kobra do it. As a treat. Ghoul though… He was theirs.
Kobra was eying the selection in the machine. “What you meant, I assume, was ‘Jet Star is gonna dine on this for a while.’”
Poison barked a laugh while Ghoul crossed his arms defensively. Figured. It’s not that the three of them would say no to some expired-but-probably-still-edible Snickers bars but none of them had a sweet tooth like Jet. Shame he’d been the one to stay behind today, Poison would’ve quite liked to seen his reaction to the find. Then again, watching Ghoul present their haul later would probably also be amusing.
“You’re making it weird,” Ghoul whined. “It’s not weird. It’s completely normal to divide things depending on needs and wants. Not like you don’t bring little presents to Poison regularly.”
Poison loved Kobra’s presents. They tended to be tied up and squirming, sticky sweet with fear sweat and tears, like salted caramel he remembered from before. The fact that Ghoul compared them to the bags of candy behind the glass probably suggested something not altogether sane about the baseline they were operating from, but Poison had stopped pretending to care about that long ago.
“Sure, sure.” Kobra nodded solemnly. “And if that makes him just a little bit more likely to spread his thick thighs for you, then that’s just an incidental bonus. Not something you’re practically salivating over already.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Ghoul said. It wasn’t a denial.
“Nah.” Kobra smirked. “Can’t buy this ass with just some jellybeans.”
Poison pulled out his blaster, aiming at the front of the vending machine. A flash of light, and candy rained down. Poison swiped a bag of jellybeans from the floor, tore it open, tossed some into his mouth, picked one between his thumb and forefinger.
“Wanna bet?” He held it out.
It was Ghoul’s turn to laugh.
Poison was right, Jet Star’s face when Ghoul upended a whole bagful of candy in his lap was a pretty sight indeed, all wide eyes and wider smiles, his mouth plush and open, sucking sugar off Ghoul’s fingers.
And as for Kobra… Never let it be said that Poison didn’t take care of his boys’ wants and needs. He made sure Kobra got his own treat too. Later.