Frerard OneShots (finished)

LXVIII - Take My F*cking Hand (FunPoison)

[had a headcanon on how the fab four met and this is what happened warning for blood/violence stay safe y'all

also i'm a slut for nb poison and apparently i'm not the only one so they/them for poison here ya go enjoú]

When Party Poison entered the shop, they couldn't help but feel nervous. The shop was small and comfy but still made them slightly claustrophobic so they decided to just get it done and over with. They tried to act as casual and confident as possible, strolling down an aisle or two, pretending to look for some things, when, really, they had already picked their target.

The task was easy, they just needed a can of food or two, and, luckily for them, exactly two cans of food stood on the shelf right next to the entrance. So, with a bit of luck, they could just grab them and make a run for it without the owner noticing and-

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" A gruff voice spoke, making Poison turn around.

The sight in front of them had their heart rate picking up.

Out of fear, might I add.

So, quickly, they hid behind some shelves, watching the scene from far away.

The shop had two owners, one of them bulky and tall, the other short, lanky, and with greasy hair; he looked disgusting, to put it simply. The taller one (he was the guy with the gruff voice) stood by the counter and held a teenage boy up by the hem of his shirt; shoulder-length black hair, hazel eyes filled with fear, clutching a dark green jacket with yellow sleeves in both his hands. His feet barely touched the ground and his chest heaved with every shaky breath he took.

"I- I swear, I wasn't gonna steal it!" The boy said, his voice trembling more than his hands. "I was gonna pay!"

The second owner walked around the counter and to his friend, twirling his mustache between two fingers. "Oh, you are gonna pay. But in what way?"

That's when Poison decided to step in; they couldn't let anything happen to that poor boy, could they?

So, with quick steps, they went over to the counter; chin high, and heart running a marathon. "Sir," they said, and the disgusting man turned to them, a sneer on his face. When they realized they had everyone's attention, they shoved their hands into the pockets of their jeans to come across as casual as possible. "Let go of my friend, will you?"

The owners glanced at each other, then at the poor boy struggling to stay on his feet, and back at Party Poison. "You know him?" They nodded and the shorter owner grinned, taking a threatening step toward them. "Your friend didn't want to pay. Do you know what happens to people who don't pay?"

Carefully, they reached up and to the holster of their gun, opening it--all while holding the guy's gaze. "Let him go," Poison demanded again, "we don't wanna have a fight right in the middle of your beautiful shop, do we?"

Still, he had a sneer on his face. "He needs to pay, no matter how much you threaten me." He looked them up and down once and his grin reappeared. "If you don't have money, you can pay differently."

"I'm not whoring myself out, for no one," Poison said, keeping a straight face. They didn't want this disgusting piece of flesh to see how nervous they actually were.

His expression turned ice-cold. "Okay, then." He snapped his fingers and the other owner took a knife out, making the boy whimper and scream in fear, begging for his life.

"Cut him open, Danger."

Poison finally pulled their ray gun, shooting the man in front of them in the knee twice. But when they turned to the counter, the boy was already on the ground, clutching his bloody face and sobbing. His wails of agony and the way that he wasn't crying but full-on weeping broke their heart.