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“Wow, I can't believe it!” Randy said, standing proud over the remnants of the allegedly cursed fortune-teller animatronic booth, Madame Mediocre. He rested his trusty, rusty dumpster hammer on his shoulder and admired his swift (albeit rushed and anger-fueled) work.
“Shit.”
Gingi, on the other hand, started to panic. They were assigned an important role, after all. Making sure that they could leave at the drop of a hat IF someone saw them committing vandalism. Which was very likely, considering Randy was not cursed by a cheap novelty attraction, and indeed just a lost cause with no common sense left to spare. And so, witness be damned: it had happened. Someone putting their phone-head to good use. Right after the job was done, too.
They tugged on his jacket. “Uh, Randy? I think that person over there is calling the police. WE NEED TO RUN.”
Randy turned around. At the sight, he dropped the hammer, making a thud on the grass. “Crap- You’re right! (Sometimes I wish you weren't, because I keep almost dying from brutal honesty…)”
“Then what are we waiting for?!” Gingi asked, signaling Randy to come with them and awaaaay from the crime scene. If their tail had regrown by now, it would be swishing in urgency.
A beat of silence stilled the air between them, until..
“FUCK IT, I’M DOING THIS NOW-”
Gingi was taken aback from the sheer force Randy had clutched their wrist and started leading them somewhere with a speed and determination they’d never seen before from the hopeless hobo in front of them. The partners in crime were practically leaping with how fast their legs were carrying them. Still, Gingi found it inside them to question Randy, as if they shouldn't have before all of.. this happened. “DOING WHAT?! WHY ARE YOU GOING TOWARDS THE FUNFAIR??” they shouted, matching Randy’s volume out of instinct. Gingi’s phone receiver rattled from the great distance they were already making.
“I DON’T CARE IF THE POLICE CATCH US ANYMORE, IF WE GET ARRESTED-” Randy panted to catch his breath despite the adrenaline rush. Look, wrangling swans all day doesn't instantly boost someone’s stamina. “WE’RE SCREWED , AND THERE’S ONE THING I WANT TO DO BEFORE I REACH A NEW LOW…”
He paused.
“...I just want to absolutely wreck you.”
And hooooo boy, that turned Gingi on, even if neither of them could see it yet. Or notice. Still, they found themself questioning Randy. Again.
“I thought you said you weren't a top!” they replied. Now, this wasn't the most ideal situation to joke around in, but… Gingi is, well- Gingi. Randy didn't feel the need to answer. Silence for more comedic effect, amirite? Gingi narrowed their eyes at him while they approached some sort of stage.
“Here, backstage! They don't perform here anymore anyway..” Randy said. Still holding on to Gingi’s wrist, they both turned a corner (Randy almost tripped, but that’s irrelevant) and made it to the wonderful privacy of an already-unused backstage area.
As the man shut the wooden door closed and took a moment to regain some energy that he will definitely be using soon, Gingi piped up. “A-Are we really doing this here? Now? ...T-The sexuals?!”
“I’M KEEPING THIS DAMN PROMISE.” Randy swiftly pinned Gingi against the wall, holding both of their arms in place as he inched closer, the heavy breathing from his speakers clear. “S-Sorry, was that too loud?” Randy looks down in slight embarrassment.
“No, no- you can continue,” Gingi said, blushing. “It’s hot, anyway.”
“..Really? T-Then what about
this?”
Randy took his thumbs and started rubbing two of the six nipples that the creature had for whatever reason. Gingi let out a whimper as they relaxed and nodded. This went on for a bit, the cryptid continuing to let out small noises that Randy drank and relished in, moving on to the next row of nipples. It was a bit awkward, though. They hadn’t really done this type of thing before, despite Gingi’s repeated (and usually unsolicited, yet sometimes appreciated) sexual comments.
Randy took in the sight of his disheveling partner. “Mmmm… You’re beautiful like this, Gingi.” They shuddered at the genuine praise and their phone-head became even warmer.
This was a bit too slow for their liking, though. Getting impatient, Gingi moved their hips forward in search of contact. Randy took the hint and quickly pulled off their already partially-unzipped shorts. He wrapped his hand around their dick and started stroking as Gingi elicited a breathy gasp.
“F-Fuck… Faster..” Randy complied once again, speeding up his movements. The creature’s long and sharp claws dug into the wall behind them. That was definitely going to leave a mark, but it’s not like anyone would care at this point anyway. Gingi felt like they could melt at any second, but damn was it the best they’d ever felt as their breaths became even more uneven. Randy experimented a bit with slightly different hand movements and twists to see what could draw out the sluttiest sounds from Gingi. After a particularly long and shaky moan, he had succeeded and continued doing it again and again, drawing out whimper after whine.
“S-Shit- Randy, I- I’m getting close!” Their legs shook. They were practically jello at this point, so the two had resorted to basically being on the floor. Gingi was so, so close, coil tightening at a record speed, just a bit further!-
Only for Randy to stop.
Gingi gasped for air as their climax was so ungraciously stripped from them. They hissed, slumped against the wall, cock rock-hard and weeping for his touch.
“Sorry, h-hon, but I need to feel good too,” he whispered. Although Randy didn’t really wanna annoy his partner like this, he was already
very
worked up himself from all of the cryptid’s reactions, and if he didn’t get inside Gingi soon, he felt like he could actually combust. Randy quickly undid his pants, pulling it and his wet boxers down in one swift motion. Also, he was pretty sure he could hear police sirens at this point, but they were both too horny to care.
At the sight of his dick, Gingi’s tongue involuntarily slipped out from wherever it’s hidden and they started drooling. They smirked. “Huh. Wasn't expecting it to be big, but here we are.” All that earned was a slightly irritated “Hey!” from Randy.
Alright, enough dilly-dallying. Randy lined up with Gingi’s hole. “You ready, Gingi?” He took their bucking hips as a yes, and he finally pushed in. Gingi didn’t really care about the pain from lack of preparation. The lines were too blurred for them, anyway.
Randy took a few moments to let Gingi get used to his length nonetheless. A few beats passed, and all Gingi could say was, “Hurry up, bitch! I don’t care what happens!”
“G-Glad we’re on the same page..” Randy proceeded to set a grueling pace. Fucking like there’s no tomorrow. (I mean, they were gonna get arrested soon or later.) With each thrust, he was glad to relieve that goddamned built-up pressure from his gut. And Gingi was just enjoying the ride, letting out intoxicating sounds and moans as their breathing became more sporadic.
“Y-You’re- taking me so well, sweetheart,” Randy managed to get out in-between thrusts and grunts. And he knew he hit the spot as Gingi’s back arched and let out a particularly loud whine. Taking all of the foreplay into account, there was no way the cryptid would last any longer, and they reached their climax, coming with a cry. This sent Randy over the edge as well, filling Gingi with the same warm substance as he rode out his orgasm. Effectively drained of all energy, he collapsed on top of them, still processing what the fuck they just did.
“...At least you won't die a virgin now, right?” Gingi said.
“I-.. Yeah. Yeah…” Randy replied.