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Frank was laying on his bed with his legs tangled up in the sheets, grinning up at the ceiling. His phone was pressed tight to his ear. “Fuck, I can’t wait to see you later,” he said.
“You just saw me at school,” came Gerard’s reply.
“Yeah, but that’s different. We haven’t had an actual date night in ages.” Frank adjusted his phone so he could roll over onto his side. “Make sure Mikey doesn’t steal your car again. It’s not too late for me to start my career as a murderer.”
“Don’t worry, he knows. I think he’s at Pete’s house anyway.” There was a rustling noise on Gerard’s end of the line. “Do you think it’s too early to do my makeup? I kinda want to.”
Frank glanced over at his alarm clock. “I dunno, it’s only seven. You’ve got an hour.”
“Yeah, but if I fuck it up that’s gonna add another ten minutes… Ah, shit.” Something clattered near Gerard’s phone. “My eyeliner pen’s all dried out, fuck.”
Frank laughed. “You look just as good without it, y’know.”
“Stop being gay and let me have a crisis, Frank.”
“I’m just saying!” Frank protested. “It won’t kill you to leave the house without it.”
Gerard ignored him. “I keep telling myself I’m gonna go get a new one, but I always forget,” he said to himself. “This is like, the third time. Y’know what, fuck it, I’m gonna go run across the street and get a new one. See you at eight?”
“Mm-hmm,” said Frank. “Don’t forget the tickets.”
“I won’t. I’ll text you when I’m on my way, okay? I love you.”
“Love you too.” Frank hung up, letting his phone drop down onto his mattress. He was still smiling at the ceiling. It was hard not to. Gerard had been busy working on his portfolio lately, and it felt like there was always something getting in the way of their time together - his art, their families, Frank’s overdue schoolwork - but tonight would be different. They’d finally get to hang out, to watch a movie and hold hands and do all the stupid coupley shit Frank would never admit that he loved.
He guessed he should probably put on something nicer.
After rooting around in his demolition site of a bedroom, he was able to locate a button-down and a pair of black jeans that weren’t ripped to shreds, which was as formal an outfit as he could ever find. It was a good thing Gerard tended to be just as much of a mess as he was. Frank jumped back onto his bed, scrolling through his phone as he waited for Gerard to text.
He ended up waiting for half an hour with no results. Frank figured Gerard must’ve been concentrating on putting his eyeliner on or something. He went downstairs to wait in the living room, keeping one eye on the front window. As soon as Gerard pulled up, they could drive off and make the best of their Friday night.
They’d have to drive pretty quick. It was getting closer and closer to eight.
Frank didn’t start worrying until Gerard was twenty minutes late. Gerard didn’t have the best memory, so ten minutes was normal - Frank couldn’t count the number of times he’d had to turn around and go back home to get his wallet or jacket. But twenty was unusual. He sent Gerard a quick text - babe where r u were gonna be late - and started lacing up his shoes.
After another ten minutes of standing by the door, he gave up and texted Mikey.
where tf is gerard he was supposed to pick me up half an hour ago
Mikey didn’t respond straight away, and Frank almost resigned himself to radio silence from both the Ways, but then his phone buzzed with a new notification.
how should i kno?? hes ur bf u ask him
Frank sighed. thats the fuckin problem hes not responding
gimme a mnt ill txt him
Frank leaned against the doorframe, knocking his forehead against the wood. If it was anyone else, he would think he was being blown off, but Gerard would never do that to him. Even if he had to cancel, he would at least explain why. He wouldn’t just disappear.
Frank’s phone lit up with a new text from Mikey.
idk whre he is hes not rspnding 2 me either. sry
Frank cursed under his breath and went to sit on the couch. An undercurrent of anxiety was beginning to work its way through him. The only reason he could think of for Gerard ignoring him would be if something bad had happened - but that seemed unlikely. Gerard was probably fine. He’d show up soon, all flustered and apologetic, and then they’d be on their way.
Except he didn’t show up.
Nearly two hours after he was supposed to arrive, Frank gave up and headed back to his room. Maybe Gerard had blown him off. He didn’t know what to think anymore. tell ur brother hes an asshole, he texted Mikey, then turned off his phone and collapsed into bed. It didn’t make him feel any better. The disappointment was even heavier when he was alone in the darkness.
It kept him tossing and turning for what felt like forever before he finally drifted off.
***
Frank woke up to almost thirty notifications from Mikey. The earliest were from the time when Frank had gone to bed, letting him know that Gerard was still MIA. There was a few hours’ gap, then:
do u kno whre g said he was gnna go?
cuz hes still not home n moms gtting worried
i am 2 tbh
damn it frnk dont disppear on me too
The messages continued in a similar fashion until two in the morning, the last one reading only fuck. Frank’s heart lurched. He thumbed out a text as quickly as he could - wtf pls tell me he ended up coming home - then sat up, combing his fingers through his hair and trying not to panic.
Mikey’s next message didn’t help him in his efforts.
he nvr showed up. if hes gone anothr 10 hrs theyre gnna declare him missing.
Frank suddenly forgot how to breathe.
***
Every second Gerard was absent, Frank felt like there was a hole in his chest.
The day Mikey showed up at his doorstep blotchy and tearstained, the hole collapsed into a supernova, turning him inside out and swallowing him whole.
They found the body in an alley near the corner store. That was how Frank had to think of it - the body. It wasn’t Gerard’s. That… thing, left lifeless and abandoned on the street, it wasn’t Gerard.
But most of the time, Frank preferred not to think of it at all.
He walked through the school like a zombie, the sounds of the hallways and classrooms dissolving into white noise around him. People tried to come up to him, to apologize or ask questions, but he couldn’t do anything more than stare at them. It just wouldn’t process. Gerard couldn’t be…
Frank started skipping classes, then entire school days. It was better than facing those looks of sympathy.
***
“Hey, Gee. I talked to Mikey today. He seems… all right. Not that he actually is. I mean, how could he be? At least he’s a good actor, though. Better than me.”
“Hey. I… God, nevermind, I can’t do this.”
“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. God damn it.”
***
Frank hardly slept anymore. He wasn’t sure what was worse: the nightmares, or the dreams. In the nightmares, he’d watch Gerard get hit by a car, rammed into by some fucking drunk driver or whatever they’d said it was. He was always frozen in place as it happened, watching Gerard cry out for help until the cries stopped coming.
But in the dreams, none of it had ever happened. Frank would be holding Gerard’s hand, reliving all their best moments - their first kiss behind the bleachers at school, the look on Gerard’s face when Frank had gotten them tickets to New York Comic Con, the time Frank had sprained his ankle in a mosh pit and Gerard had supported him all the way home.
And then he’d wake up, and the weight of reality would crash into him like a freight train.
Frank’s parents were worried; he knew that much. He couldn’t bring himself to care. It was a miracle he could get out of bed in the morning. Every little thing reminded him of Gerard, and with every memory, the knife in his heart twisted deeper.
***
“Mom said I need to stop calling you. Whatever. I don’t care. This is… God, I’m fucking pathetic - it’s something, y’know? I’m sorry.”
“I fucking hate this. I… You were supposed to pick me up, god damn it. You were supposed to be there. We were gonna go to the movies, and you were gonna do that cheesy fucking thing where you yawn and put your arm around… And you had that painting to finish, I… Fuck.”
“Fuck you.”
***
Frank’s entire body was sore. Every nerve cell was hyper-sensitive, overloaded with feeling. It was a constant burn, a buzz between his ears, a feedback loop wired endlessly between his ears that never fucking stopped.
“I can’t do this,” he said, his voice cracking. “I can’t fuckin’ do it, Ray.”
“Yes you can,” Ray said soothingly. He had one arm around Frank, rubbing circles into his back. It should have been comforting, but honestly, it just made Frank feel like he was being babied. He shrugged Ray off and wiped at his face furiously.
“I really fucking can’t,” he said. “You don’t get it. It’s like… I feel so fucked up, man. I never know if I’m gonna punch something or fucking cry. I just want everybody to shut up.”
Ray smiled sadly. “That’s to be expected,” he said. “You’re grieving.”
“Don’t fucking say it,” Frank snarled. “You’re included in that. Stop fucking talking to me like I’m five.”
Ray sighed. “I’m sorry, Frank. I’m just trying to do whatever I can.”
“Yeah, but it’s not fucking helping.” Frank exhaled hard, hating that ever-present burn behind his eyes. “I know I’m being a dick, I just…”
“It’s okay, Frank.” Ray watched him carefully. “And, you know… It’s okay to be mad at him, too.”
Frank’s head snapped up. He looked at Ray for a second, words failing him.
Then he shook his head, his own smile tasting bitter on his tongue. “It’s not, though,” he said. “It’s really not.”
***
“I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry, Gee, I just… I just miss you so fucking much, you have no idea. I want… I love you. I’m sorry.”
“They put up a couple of your paintings in the display case at school. Don’t worry, though, they didn’t touch your sketchbook. Mikey gave… I’ve got it now. It’s on my desk. Shit, I almost forgot - your locker is crazy right now. There’s decorations and shit all over it. It’s like a fuckin’ shrine. Everybody’s been saying how great it is, but honestly, I kinda hate it. None of the people who worked on it actually knew you, so it just feels… fake. Me and Mikey are gonna make a better one, one that actually fits you. Hope you like it.”
“I’m a fucking mess right now. Honestly, it’s a good thing you’re not here to see it. I wouldn’t want to see it either.”
***
Frank was crying again.
He usually was. He had to be discreet about it in front of other people, but when he was alone, in the shower, in his bedroom, it all spilled out at once. He’d start thinking about how Gerard’s voice had sounded, the set of pencils he’d left in Frank’s room, any little thing, and that was it. Frank would be embarrassed, but he didn’t have the emotional capacity for it. All he could think about was Gerard.
The last thing he’d said had been I love you.
God, Frank missed hearing those words.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the last moments they’d had together. Fucking eyeliner, of all things. Frank should’ve said something. He should’ve told Gerard it wasn’t a big deal, he was beautiful no matter what, he should just stay home. Or, better yet, come over early. But Gerard had gone off and gotten himself…
Frank hadn’t stopped him. The thought looped back to the front of his mind every five seconds, reminding him of everything he’d done wrong until there were no more tears to cry.
It must have been worse for Gerard. To be walking down the street alone, expecting nothing more than a quick trip to the corner store, and then to have the car smash into him out of nowhere - Frank choked around the lump in his throat. He couldn’t think about that. Anything but that.
He missed Gerard so much it hurt, a physical ache deep inside his chest. It was eating away at him. He felt fragile, like the slightest breeze could rip through him and finish what was already started. It wouldn’t take much to break him beyond repair.
For now, Frank’s only comfort was the hoodie Gerard had given him. It still smelled like him. Frank held onto it as much as possible, burying his face in the soft fabric and breathing in the scent of sweat and ink and cigarettes.
But even that comfort was short-lived. The scent would fade soon, and with it, one of his last tangible connections to Gerard.
Frank wasn’t sure what he would do after that.
***
“I think this is gonna be my last call. I can’t take this anymore, any of it. I think I’m just making it worse for myself. I’m sorry. God, I can’t fucking tell you how sorry I am, Gerard. I love you so much. I always will. Never forget that.”
“I lied. I can’t just stop calling. You know I could never do that. I think I should probably talk to Mikey, though. It’s been a while. I’m gonna do that now, I think. Love you.”
“I’ve been talking to Ray again. He’s, uh… he’s not good, exactly, but at least he’s more rational than me and Mikey. Gotta have at least one healthy person around, right? I… Fucking hell. You know how everybody always says it gets easier? Bullshit. Bull. Fucking. Shit. Anyway... Love you.”
***
The wind rippled across the hill, whipping at Frank’s jacket and biting at his face. He was glad of it. It gave him an excuse to keep his head down, to hide from the world under the guise of cold.
Mikey’s hand was wrapped around his. He hadn’t said a word since the wake, but he wasn’t crying, either, so Frank was determined to do the same. All the Ways looked exhausted - there were bags under Don’s eyes, and Donna’s lips were pinched tight at the corners. But they didn’t cry.
Frank didn’t know how they managed it.
The wake had only been bearable because it was closed-casket. Frank was able to zone out through most of it. He’d felt guilty about it at first, but then figured that Gerard would understand.
Would have understood.
The funeral was different, though. There was a sense of finality about it. Once they lowered the casket down, Gerard would be gone, locked away under six feet of earth. There was no coming back from that.
Frank kept his eyes shut through most of it. He wanted his last memories of Gerard to be of how he’d smiled, how he’d given Frank a kiss on the cheek before walking away to his car. Not how the casket had looked as it was gradually covered.
Time passed in a blur. He wasn’t sure how he ended up sitting on the floor in Mikey’s room, but there they were, the seconds ticking by in silence.
“Hey,” said Mikey.
“Mm,” said Frank.
Mikey cleared his throat. “I just… I dunno,” he said awkwardly. “Whatever happens, we gotta know that it’s all gonna be okay eventually.”
Frank looked at him blankly.
“Are you serious?” he asked.
“Well, yeah,” said Mikey, looking uncomfortable. “We gotta keep it together, Frank. I’m… Everybody’s worried about you.”
“Me?” Frank raised his eyebrows. “Shouldn’t they be worried about you?”
“Yeah, but -”
“What the fuck, Mikey.” The more Frank turned Mikey’s words over in his mind, the more pissed off he got. “What the fuck? It’s gonna be okay? No it fucking isn’t! Gerard was your brother, how can you even say that?”
“All I’m saying is -”
“Shut up!” Frank said furiously. “I don’t care if you’re worried, okay? I’m worried about you too, but I’m not enough of an asshole to tell you it’s gonna be fine. ‘Cause it’s not. It’s not. This?” He waved his arms. “None of this is fine! I thought we were going through the same shit right now, but I guess not, ‘cause I sure as hell can’t see this becoming okay anytime soon!”
Mikey shrank back into himself. “Frank,” he said in a small voice. “Please don’t -”
“Don’t what? Treat Gerard’s death like it matters at all?” Angry tears were threatening to spill over in Frank’s eyes, and he no longer felt like hiding them. Fuck that. At least he was actually facing his emotions, not trying to reason them away with platitudes and wishful thinking.
He got up and walked out of the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.
***
“I shouldn’t have yelled at him. Sorry for that. I’m not sorry for what I said, though. Nobody gets to fucking tell me how to feel.”
“I wish I was religious. I want to believe you’re out there having a better time than you ever did when you were alive, but I just can’t. It doesn’t make sense. Whenever people try to tell me that you’re in a better place it makes me want to kick their teeth in. Like, fuck off, honestly… They might think they’re helping, but it just sounds condescending as hell.”
“Haven’t talked to Mikey in a few days. I should apologize. I know you’d want me to. Everybody processes shit differently, blah blah blah. I’ll apologize soon. I know he didn’t mean to be an asshole. But it’s still true. This isn’t ever going to be okay.”
***
It had been nearly a month since Gerard died, and Frank’s heart showed no signs of healing. The stitches holding him together were too tight, straining at the seams every time he moved. It was fucking exhausting. He just wanted to feel something that didn’t make him cry or shout or stare at the ceiling for hours on end.
His parents had him going to fucking therapy, of all things. Frank understood where they were coming from, but he knew it wouldn’t fix anything. Talking about his feelings to some stranger with a degree was the last thing he needed.
He needed Gerard back.
Frank was sitting on his bedroom floor and playing guitar when the doorbell rang. He considered ignoring it - it was probably a politician, or a surveyor, or a Jehovah’s Witness, or somebody else he didn’t have the energy to deal with. His parents weren’t home; they’d never know.
But if it was the mailman, his mom would want to know why he hadn’t brought their shit inside. Frank thought he remembered her saying something about a package she was waiting for.
It was probably best if he answered the door.
He set his guitar aside and trudged downstairs, trying to think of a nice way to say “fuck off” if it actually was a Jehovah’s Witness.
He had barely opened the door when someone tumbled inside, pressing their hand to his mouth.
“Don’t scream,” Gerard said, wide-eyed. “Please.”
Frank’s head spun, and for a moment, black dots swam at the edges of his vision. Then Gerard took his hand away to hug him tight, whispering, “Don’t pass out, either. Please. I’m sorry about this, I swear I can explain everything, just please don’t faint on me. You’re heavy.”
Frank wriggled out of his grip and stared.
Gerard. Living, breathing, standing in front of him. It was impossible.
“Great,” Frank said out loud. “I’ve actually gone crazy now.”
“No! No, you’re not crazy, Frank.” Gerard grabbed his hand. “I’m alive. I have been this whole time. I can tell you everything in a second, but I need you to believe me first.”
“You’re not,” Frank whispered. “I went to the funeral. I’m…” He exhaled slowly. “I’m hallucinating is what I’m doing, Jesus Christ. Maybe I really do need therapy.”
“You don’t,” Gerard said. “I swear to God, I’m right here. Mikey can back me up.”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “He can?”
“Yeah, he can - except…” Gerard chewed on his lip. “I’m really not supposed to be here, so maybe don’t ask him.”
Frank snorted. “Yeah, that’s convincing.”
“No, it’s - it’s complicated, Frank. Everybody has to think I’m dead,” said Gerard, upset. “Except you. I couldn’t do that to you anymore.”
“Why?” Frank said bluntly. “Why would fake your own death? You’re edgy, but not that edgy. And I’m probably hallucinating right now. Because you’re dead.”
“You’re not hallucinating, Frankie. Please believe me.” Gerard took a shaky breath. “I heard every single one of those voicemails you left me, and it killed me every time. So I’m here now. Don’t kick me out again.”
His hands came up to cup Frank’s face, and slowly, hesitantly, Gerard leaned in to kiss him.
And Frank melted.
Gerard still tasted the same, like coffee and smoke and something else, something so fundamentally Gerard it would be impossible to fake. The touch of his lips, the way his hands felt when they rested at Frank’s waist; it was too real. Frank couldn’t be hallucinating this.
He broke away with a gasp. “Gerard,” he said.
“Yeah?” Gerard whispered.
“You’re alive.”
Gerard smiled, and it was like the sun bursting through the clouds.
***
Frank had a lot to process. He was pissed off, and more than a little confused, but he could dwell on that later. For now, he had Gerard back. There wasn’t room in his heart to think about anything else.
Seeing him curled up on the living room couch felt like a fucking miracle. He was looking at Frank with this dopey ass smile that Frank knew was probably mirrored on his own face, and God, Frank had never loved him more.
“You’d better have a damn good explanation for this,” said Frank.
“I do,” Gerard said seriously. “You’re not gonna believe it at first. But you’ve already seen me come back from the dead, so I’m hoping you’re open to believing weird shit today.”
“Hit me,” said Frank.
“I’m…” Gerard hesitated. “I think I’d better show you.” He beckoned Frank closer. Frank leaned in, and Gerard opened his mouth.
The front row of his teeth was framed by a wicked-sharp set of fangs.
“What the fuck,” said Frank.
Gerard closed his mouth. “I know,” he said with a grimace. “They’re real, I swear.”
“What the…” Frank reached out, and Gerard opened his mouth again so Frank could touch one of his fangs. It was just as sharp as it looked. Frank’s fingertip scraped against the edge, and he hissed, a tiny drop of blood beading up where he’d cut himself. Gerard drew in a shallow breath.
“Don’t do that,” he said. “Stop. Fuck.”
Frank let his hand drop. “No fucking way,” he said flatly.
“I’m sorry, I know it’s insane,” said Gerard, wringing his hands. “But it’s real. All of it’s real. I was out that night and I heard somebody walking behind me, and I didn’t think anything was wrong, except then they started following me and I ran and then -”
“You did not get bitten by a fucking vampire.”
“I, um,” said Gerard. “I might have, yeah.”
“Bullshit,” Frank said, but his eyes had already jumped to Gerard’s neck. Gerard brushed his hair to the side, and there it was - a crescent-shaped scar with two defined puncture marks. “Woah,” Frank breathed.
“Yeah,” Gerard said with a nervous smile. It put his fangs on full display once more. Frank didn’t know how he hadn’t seen them before. He supposed he’d been thinking of other things, like his relief to see Gerard alive, but damn. They were… noticeable.
The more Frank looked at Gerard, the more plausible his story seemed. He seemed even paler than before, like he hadn’t seen the light of day in years, and his eyes were brighter, somehow. But the mark on his neck was the clincher.
“This had better not be a joke,” Frank warned, “Or I swear to God -”
“It’s not a joke,” Gerard promised. “I swear. I’d never lie to you.” He winced. “I mean, not about something like this. They told me you’d be safer if you didn’t know I was alive. That’s why I stayed away so long. But in the end, I just couldn’t.”
“They?” Frank questioned.
“Yeah. There’s, uh… a lot I still need to tell you.” Gerard shifted in his seat. “After I got turned, some other people showed up to tell me what was what. Apparently they can smell other…”
“Vampires,” Frank filled in. Gerard nodded. “So, can you smell me right now? What do I smell like?”
Gerard shrugged. “Like you did before, but stronger.”
Frank eyed the cut on his finger. It had stopped bleeding, but it made him wonder. “Do I smell, like… good? In a thirst-for-blood kind of way?”
Gerard was looking at his finger too. He swallowed hard. “A little,” he whispered. Frank shivered, and Gerard instantly grabbed his hand. “But I’d never hurt you, Frankie, I promise. Jesus, I’d never. I can control it.”
“I’m not scared,” Frank said honestly. “Maybe I should be. And I’m still not saying I believe you, by the way, because this is literally impossible, but the evidence is pretty incriminating. And…” He gave Gerard a lopsided grin. “Not gonna lie, the fangs are kinda hot.”
Gerard groaned and covered his face. “Don’t do that,” he said, voice muffled.
“Do what?”
“Look at me like that! Fucking hell, Frank.” Something tinged loudly, and Gerard jumped. He pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and swore. “Ah, shit. Mikey knows I’m gone. And he probably knows where I am, too. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m gonna be in for it when I’m home.”
“Do you have to go?” Frank asked, trying not to sound disappointed.
“I… probably should,” Gerard said reluctantly. “But I don’t want to.”
“Come back soon.”
“I will,” said Gerard. “I love you.” His gaze was searching, almost scared, and it made Frank’s heart ache.
“You dumbass,” he said. “I’m fucking pissed at you, but I love you, too.”
Gerard smiled widely, his fangs poking out over his lower lip. Frank leaned in and kissed him again, relishing the feeling of it. He’d missed this. Now that he knew what it was like to go without touching Gerard for so long, he was never letting go again.
Gerard kissed him slowly, nipping at Frank’s lip just enough to sting before pulling away. “I’ll see you soon,” he said softly. “Don’t tell anyone I came here.”
“I won’t. Stay safe, okay? Don’t get staked or anything.”
Gerard rolled his eyes. “I won’t.” He stood up, pressing one last kiss to Frank’s forehead as he went. “Bye, Frankie.”
Frank watched him as he left, following his back down the street until he disappeared.
He sort of wanted to cry again, there was so much going on in his brain, but for once, he managed to hold it in.
***
Frank knocked on the front door, waited, and then kicked it as hard as he could.
It swung open to reveal a disgruntled Mikey. “He wasn’t supposed to tell you,” he said.
“I know,” said Frank. “But he did. So.”
Mikey paused. “So…”
Frank raised his eyebrows. “Well? I’m waiting.”
Mikey sighed. “I’m sorry. You get it, though, right?”
Frank nodded. “Must be stressful, having your brother turn into a vampire and having to come up with a cover story. Not quite as stressful as actually believing he’s dead, though.” He punctuated his last sentence with a glare, and Mikey wilted.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and this time he actually looked ashamed of himself. “I mean, they did tell me I had to keep it secret, but I still acted like an asshole.”
“Yeah, you did. But I know now, and there’s no coming back from that, so I figure as long as we don’t make this weird, it won’t be.” Frank stuck out his hand. “Are we cool?”
Mikey took his hand and shook it. “We’re cool,” he said with a smile.
“Are you gonna let me in?”
“Oh, right.” Mikey bit his lip. “Yeah, uh. The thing is, they’re kind of here right now?”
“Who?” Frank asked.
“Gerard’s friends. The vampire ones.”
“Okay, cool. Perfect time for an introduction, then,” said Frank, moving to step inside, but Mikey blocked his way.
“They don’t know that you know,” he said nervously. “And they’re, like… They’ve got a lot of stuff to teach Gerard. Vampire turf wars and rules and shit. Stuff that might make humans uncomfortable.”
“Are you going to let me in or not?” Frank asked.
“Are you going to let me stop you?”
“No.”
“Then I guess you’d better come in.” Mikey opened the door fully and allowed Frank to step inside. “They’re downstairs,” he said. “And they’re weird. Like, even for creatures of the night, they’re weird. Just a warning.”
Frank raised an eyebrow. “Thanks?”
He headed for the basement, a path he knew like the back of his hand after so many years of friendship with the Ways, and flung the door open. All the lights were out. “Fuck off, Mikey!” a voice shouted from the darkness. “We’re doing undead shit!”
Frank wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “Okay if I join?” he asked.
“Who the fuck -”
“Frankie!” came Gerard’s voice. There was a thumping noise, and he appeared at the foot of the stairs, beaming. “Hi! You…” His smile faded. “Ah, shit.”
“What the fuck?” the first voice demanded. A boy appeared next to Gerard. “Gerard, who is this?”
“It’s his boyfriend, duh,” mumbled another voice. “Jeph, y’owe me five bucks.” Someone else swore loudly.
Frank peered down into the blackness. “How many fucking people are here?” he asked.
“Three,” Gerard said, a little sheepish. “C’mon down, I’ll introduce you.”
“No, you will not,” the first boy said angrily. “He’s a human! He shouldn’t even know you’re alive!”
“But he does,” said one of the other voices. “And we all saw that coming anyway, what does it matter?”
“But -”
“Sit the fuck down, Bert. Eat a Snickers or something.”
“Fuck you,” Bert muttered, but he slunk back into the shadows without another word.
Frank slowly stepped down toward the foot of the stairs. As soon as he landed on the last step, Gerard pulled him into a hug. “I’m sorry about them,” he murmured. “If I’d known you were coming, I would’ve kicked them out.”
“It’s okay,” said Frank. “I don’t mind.”
Gerard grimaced. “Yeah. Just… don’t listen if they say anything rude, okay? That’s just how they are. And you’re human, so.” He said it as if that explained everything, which it certainly didn’t. Before Frank could ask anything further, the lights flicked on abruptly. Gerard hissed and covered his eyes. “Ow, shit. A little warning next time?” he asked over his shoulder.
“Sorry,” said a boy who was standing at the light switch.
“Can we go back to what we were doing now?” asked the boy Frank had seen before, now sprawled out over the couch. “That was kind of an important conversation.”
“Yeah, sure.” Gerard guided Frank over to a beanbag chair. Frank sat down, and Gerard nestled against him. “That’s Bert,” said Gerard, pointing to the boy on the couch. “And Quinn,” the one who had turned off the lights, “And Jeph,” the one sitting beside Bert. “They’re vampires.”
“I gathered,” said Frank.
Bert grinned, his fangs gleaming. His hair was even longer and greasier than Gerard’s. It was almost impressive. “Nice to meet you.”
“We were talking about feeding,” said Jeph, his face half-buried in a couch cushion.
“Mm-hmm,” said Bert, focusing back on Gerard. “Might be a good thing your boyfriend’s here for this talk. So, as I was saying, you haven’t fed off a live human yet, but there might come a time when you can’t live off blood bags. You gotta learn how it goes.”
“But I don’t want to feed off anybody,” Gerard objected.
Bert laughed. “Knew you’d say that. Trust me, you’ll lose those morals after a while. But even if you do stay vegetarian, you never know what’s gonna happen. It’s better to be prepared.”
“So, here’s what happens,” Quinn interrupted. “Let’s say you’re really hungry. You haven’t fed for a few days, you’re gettin’ that itch. And then some tasty-smelling human walks by. You gotta decide whether you want to hunt them, or play them.”
“You could just quietly sneak up behind them, steal them into an alley and suck ‘em dry,” Bert explained. “That’s always effective. But you have to make sure they don’t scream. And never feed in another vamp’s territory, that’s a surefire way to start shit you don’t wanna get into.”
“Or you could pretend you need help or something. That way, you can bring them anywhere you want before you feed on them,” said Jeph.
Gerard stared. “That’s fucking gross,” he said. “That sounds like… I dunno, like you’re raping them or something.”
Bert giggled. “I mean…”
“It can get a little sexual,” said Quinn. “For the victim. There’s something in our venom that makes them like it, and sometimes they really like it, so stuff can kinda… happen.”
Frank suddenly understood why Mikey had thought he might be uncomfortable.
“What the fuck?” said Gerard, upset. “That’s disgusting!”
Bert waved his hand. “It sounds worse than it is. Trust me, they’ll be begging for it. And you don’t even have to feed off live ones if you don’t want to.”
“Good,” Gerard said forcefully. “I don’t.” He squeezed Frank’s hand tight.
Frank wasn’t sure which of them it was meant to comfort.
***
Gerard slammed the basement door shut. “God,” he muttered. “I really hate them sometimes.” He swept Frank into his arms, burying his face in Frank’s hair and breathing in deeply. “I’m sorry,” he said. “Jesus, I’m sorry. That must have been really fucking weird.”
“Not gonna lie, it kind of was,” said Frank. The idea of Gerard draining the blood from another living being still made his stomach churn. Especially if it was a sexual thing. That was his place, not some stranger’s.
“I’m never gonna do that,” Gerard murmured, as if he could read Frank’s mind. “I don’t know how they can stand it. I don’t… I don’t even know if I can look at them the same way after that, honestly. I can’t. But just know that I’d never do that, okay? Not to them, and not to you. I’m yours.”
He pressed a kiss to Frank’s jaw, and Frank inhaled sharply. Gerard paused. “What?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Frank breathed. And he definitely wasn’t thinking about himself in the place of the stranger, no sir. He wasn’t imagining what it would be like for Gerard’s fangs to pierce his skin, to leave him desperate and begging, too drunk on pleasure to resist.
“Fuck,” Gerard said under his breath. “Fuck, Frank, stop it.”
“Stop what?” Frank asked.
“Thinking. Whatever you’re thinking about, just stop it, I…” Gerard pulled back by a fraction, then leaned in to kiss Frank’s jaw again. “God, you smell so good right now,” he said, a hint of desperation bleeding into his voice. His breath was hot against Frank’s skin. “I should move. You should move.”
“What if I don’t?” Frank managed.
At that, Gerard actually pulled away. His pupils were fully dilated, his hazel irises drowning in black. “We need to stop,” he said. “I can’t. I’ve never done this, I - I don’t know how.”
“Seems pretty easy,” said Frank. “You just,” he leaned in closer to Gerard, angling his chin up ever so slightly, “Bite.”
Gerard bit his lip. It was probably unintentional, but it put his fangs directly in the spotlight, and holy shit, Frank really wanted Gerard to bite him. Like, it had just been an idea before, but now? Frank needed it.
“I might not be able to control it,” Gerard said weakly. “I could kill you.”
“You won’t,” Frank said confidently.
“How do you know? I could bleed you dry by accident. Or if I let too much venom get into your bloodstream, you’d need to get turned, or you’d die. That’s a thing that can happen.” Gerard squeezed Frank’s hips, holding eye contact. “Seriously. To turn somebody, I’d have to bite them, drain them, and then let them drink my blood. If they didn’t get my blood, they’d hallucinate for a few hours, bleed out, and die a super painful death. Bert told me.”
“Fuck Bert,” Frank groaned. “I trust you, come on.”
“I don’t trust myself,” said Gerard. “Not yet.”
Frank raised his eyebrows. “Yet?”
Gerard averted his eyes.
Frank grinned. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“If I can stay away that long,” Gerard mumbled, his pale cheeks flushing bright pink.
***
“Is it weird to fake your own death?” Frank asked. He was curled up next to Gerard on the basement couch, watching Gary Oldman trying to seduce Winona Ryder on the TV screen. He really shouldn’t have been surprised when Gerard pulled out the vampire movies. Dracula was a classic on its own, but Gerard definitely wasn’t the type to pass up an opportunity for irony.
“Yep,” said Gerard, not taking his eyes off the screen. “It sucks. I keep almost texting Ray by accident.”
“At least your family knows,” said Quinn. He was sitting on the floor with Jeph and Bert. Frank almost felt guilty for hogging the couch, but then he remembered that Quinn and his friends were assholes. The guilt went away quickly.
“I flipped out when I got turned,” Quinn continued. “My family was super religious; I knew there was no way they’d just be cool with it. So I ran away. Just packed my bags and left.”
“And then we picked him up off the street,” Bert said, ruffling Quinn’s hair. “Always on the lookout for another sad little urchin to add to the crew.”
“And we found one!” Jeph added, poking Gerard in the knee.
“I’m not that sad,” said Gerard.
“Yeah, at least you’ve still got friends,” Quinn mumbled.
“The fuck are we, chopped liver?” asked Bert. He punched Quinn in the shoulder. “At least you’ve still got a reputation. All my old friends think I died in a crack house.” Quinn giggled.
Frank was privately relieved on behalf of Bert’s old friends.
He’d initially been furious with Gerard for not telling Frank he was still alive, but once it was all explained to him, it made more sense. Gerard couldn’t go on pretending to be human, not with those fangs and an allergy to sunlight. And apparently there were some pretty strict divisions of territory; stuff that could put humans in danger if they got involved. Trust Gerard to try and protect Frank at the expense of never seeing him again.
Thank God for Frank’s unhealthy coping mechanisms. At least those voicemails had finally persuaded Gerard to get his head out of his ass. Although...
“Were you even faking it?” Frank wondered out loud. “Are you even alive, or just undead?”
“That’s offensive,” said Jeph.
“We’re alive,” Bert confirmed. “Just in a different way.”
“Can you guys shut up?” Gerard complained. “I’m trying to watch the movie.”
“As if you can call this a movie,” Jeph said under his breath. “Inaccurate as fuck.”
“We’re watching it for entertainment, not the amazing vampire representation,” Gerard retorted. “Now shut up.” He leaned his head on Frank.
Bert turned around to glare at Gerard. “Dude, chill. We’re just hanging out. And you’re pretty much ignoring us anyway, so why shouldn’t we talk?”
“I’m not ignoring you!” Gerard protested. “I’m just trying to watch -”
“Yes you are. You’re all wrapped up in him.” Bert nodded in Frank’s direction. “Pay a little attention to your own kind, huh?”
“Friends before food,” Jeph agreed. “No matter how good it smells.”
“Shut up,” Gerard said sharply. “Frank isn’t food, he’s my boyfriend. And he has a name, asshole.”
“Right,” Jeph drawled. “You’d never, ever feed on a pretty boy like that, ‘cause you’re in love, and lovers don’t do that.” He smacked Gerard in the leg. “Internalized vampirephobia, that’s what you’ve got. Boyfriend, food - why not both? Embrace the fangs, dude.”
“You can snack on him all you want,” Quinn chimed in. “That’s not the problem. All we’re saying is that you shouldn’t put him first.”
“You guys are so fucking weird,” Gerard muttered. “Just shut up. I already told you, I’m not feeding on Frank. And I’m not ignoring you, either. I’m just trying to spend time with all my friends like a normal human being.”
“You’re not a normal human being,” Jeph pointed out.
Gerard threw up his hands. “Well, can’t I at least pretend?”
“Nope. You’re never going back to what you were before, man. You might as well accept that.”
“Not if it means sucking my boyfriend’s blood,” said Gerard.
Bert giggled. “Oh, so it’s a problem when it’s his blood -”
“Shut the fuck up, Bert.”
“What? I’m just sayin’! There’s not much difference, anyway. And I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you did want to suck his blood.” Bert eyed Frank with a sleazy grin. “What say you, Frankie? Wanna be an entree?” Frank made a face, and Bert laughed.
“You’re a fucking creep,” said Gerard, scowling. “Just because you’re a vampire doesn’t mean you have to act all freaky around humans.”
“Aw, but it’s so much fun.” Bert was in Frank’s face before he could even blink, lifting his chin up. “I gotta say, Gee, I don’t get you. Why would you pick one like this and then just let him be?” He inhaled through his nose. “He smells fucking good, dude.”
Frank slapped his hand away. “Don’t fucking touch me,” he growled.
“And feisty, too,” said Bert, his eyes twinkling. “Would you fight Gerard like that if he tried it? I bet not.”
“Get out,” Gerard said flatly. “I mean it. Either stop being an asshole or get out of my house.”
Bert sighed dramatically and slipped back off the couch. “Calm yourself, grasshopper. You’ll understand where I’m coming from someday. I’m tellin’ ya, you gotta get a taste sometime soon.”
“I should hope not,” Gerard muttered. He wrapped a protective arm around Frank, kissing his cheek. “Sorry,” he said. “Some people have no fucking manners.”
Frank couldn’t deny that Bert was creepy as hell. But he couldn’t dey the truth in his words, either. If Gerard tried to bite him, Frank wouldn’t fight; hell, he’d encourage it. Even with Gerard’s head rested on his shoulder, his heart was racing, fending off images of what would happen if Gerard turned just so…
Bert leaned back and smirked up at Frank, his fangs bright white under the light of the TV.
***
Frank kept his eyes on the sky as he walked down the street. It was a warm summer night, and clear, too, with hundreds of stars all shining through the blackness. There would be more if he wasn’t in a city. Stupid light pollution.
He didn’t even see the figure standing in front of him until it was too late.
A hand wrapped around his throat, and before he knew it, he had been yanked off the street and into the shadows of the treeline. “Hey there,” a voice purred. Frank’s heart nearly stopped beating.
A beat went by, and something clicked in Frank’s brain. He squinted. “Bert?”
“That’s my name!” Bert crowed. “What’s up, little blood bank? Gerard got his teeth in you yet?”
Frank scowled and rubbed at his neck. “No. Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”
“That was the goal.” Bert leaned in and took a sniff of Frank’s neck. “Yeah, that’s gonna bruise. Sorry not sorry.”
Frank stepped back. “Awesome,” he said bitterly. “Thanks a lot, I’m gonna have a great time explaining that to my parents.”
Bert giggled. “Ah, parents. I remember when they were relevant.” He stepped closer to Frank. “I could smell you from, like, three blocks away, y’know. You stink like vampires.”
“Thanks,” said Frank.
“It wasn’t a compliment,” Bert said with a smile. “It’s actually a bad thing. Y’see, you smell like our crowd now. So if you go into somebody else’s territory, they’re gonna think we sent you, and that’s a disaster waiting to happen.”
Frank tried not to watch Bert’s fangs as he spoke. ”Sorry,” he said. “Guess I’ll take a shower when I get home?”
“Nope. How do I put this, Frank…” Bert spread his hands. “I don’t like you. At all.”
Frank had to swallow a laugh. “So it’s mutual, then.”
“Mm. Yeah. If we were on the same level here, that might’ve been witty.” Bert’s hand shot out and grabbed Frank by the collar. “But we’re not.” His smile was sharklike, with all his teeth fully visible. “You’ve got three strikes against you, Frankie. One, you’re holding Gerard back. He needs to figure himself out and realize that he’s not human anymore. He can’t do that with you around.”
Frank struggled, but Bert’s grip was like a vice. “Two, you’re gonna end up starting a fight if you keep walking around smelling like him. And three...” Bert pulled Frank in close, close enough that Frank could feel his breath. “Letting somebody like you walk by unscathed is just a fucking waste.”
Frank didn’t even have time to scream before Bert’s fangs sunk deep into his neck.
There was an initial burst of pain, then everything went hazy. His knees gave out. There was a steady throb coming from the side of his neck, and it felt good, but also so indescribably wrong that Frank couldn’t focus on the pleasure of it. His head was spinning. Something wet stroked over his throat, and there was another tiny shock of pain.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed before he was sinking to the ground.
The warmth at his side vanished suddenly. Somewhere within the muddled confines of his mind, Frank assumed Bert was gone. Great. Now he could bleed out alone on the side of the street, and no one would ever know what had become of him. He’d disappear just like Gerard had.
The thought sent a bolt of clarity through him. Gerard. He couldn’t leave Gerard.
Frank fumbled for his cell phone, his fingers feeling thick and clumsy as he reached into his pocket. It was a fucking godsend he had Gerard on speed dial, or Frank never would have have managed to type in his number. He hit the call button and shuddered through a wave of nausea.
This was bad. This was very, very bad. Frak could barely think straight; he could barely even see. It felt like a hot coal was being pressed to his neck, searing right through the flesh.
“Hello?” said a tinny voice.
“G’rard?” Frank slurred. “Fuck, Gee. Somethin’ bad happened.”
“What is it?” Gerard asked instantly.
“I got bit. I think… Ah, fuck, Gee, it hurts.” Frank’s mouth was going numb. He closed his eyes, hoping it would make the world stop spinning. It didn’t help much.
“You got bit?” Gerard half-shrieked. “By a - oh, fuck, where are you?”
“I don’ know. I was…. At Ray’s? I was a’ Ray’s. An’ then I was here.”
“Shit. All right, stay awake, Frankie - I’m coming to get you. Just stay awake, okay?” Gerard’s voice was getting softer, further away.
“Mm’kay,” Frank mumbled.
His phone slipped from his fingers.
***
“Wake up!”
Something smacked Frank across the face. He gasped, and his eyes flew open. Gerard was hovering over him, his eyes wide with terror. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Frank awake. “Oh, thank fuck,” he breathed, then thrust his arm into Frank’s face with an order of, “Bite.”
“Th’ fuck?” Frank mumbled. His head was pounding, his neck stung, but above all was the fucking hunger. He wasn’t sure where it had come from, but it was burning him alive.
“Just do it, we’ve waited too long already,” said Gerard. It was only then that Frank recognized the stain of red on his arm as blood.
Fuck. He had a pretty good idea of what was going on here, and it was way too much for him to process all at once.
“Fucking bite me, come on,” Gerard said impatiently. “You need it.”
Frank tried to sit up, but it only made his head spin faster. He exhaled through his nose and managed a jerky nod. Gerard held his forearm up to Frank’s lips, and Frank steeled himself before opening his mouth and biting down.
The first taste of Gerard’s blood was like a starving man given ambrosia. Frank closed his eyes and drank greedily, savoring the metallic flavor on his tongue. Gerard pulled his arm back after a few seconds, and Frank found himself leaning after it, running his tongue along the bite marks for those last few drops.
Gerard breathed out slowly. “Okay. I think you’re gonna be fine.” Frank watched with fascination as the bite mark on his arm slowly smoothed over, the redness melting back into the creamy white of his skin.
And then it hit him.
“Holy shit, what the fuck did I just do?” he said.
Gerard smiled grimly. “You got turned, Frankie.”
Frank’s jaw dropped. “No fucking way. I’m not - wait, where are we?” He looked around, finally registering his surroundings as Gerard’s basement. “Shit.” He jumped up, ignoring the way his knees almost gave out, and ran for the nearest mirror. The first thing he did was open his mouth.
Sitting right in his front row of teeth were two little fangs.
“I’m a fucking vampire?” he half-shouted.
“Shh,” Gerard said soothingly, appearing over his shoulder. “It was the only way. At least you’re still alive.”
Frank flapped a hand in Gerard’s direction. “I’m not mad, this is - Gerard, this is so fucking cool!” He beamed at his reflection until one detail made his smile fade. “Dude, my fangs are fucking tiny,” he said.
“That’s ‘cause the change isn’t complete yet,” said Gerard, amused. “They’ll get bigger.”
“And I guess the whole invisible-in-mirrors thing is bullshit, huh,” said Frank. He touched a finger to his reflection. His throat was marred by a nasty wound, covered in half-dried blood so dark it was almost black. The veins around it stuck out sharply, a contrast of blue against the white canvas of his skin.
“Yeah. But, Frankie…” Gerard hesitated. “You have to let me apologize. I know it might seem cool right now, but you’re gonna have to leave your old life behind. I need you to know how sorry I am for that.”
Frank pressed a finger to his lips.
“Shut up,” he said. “I know the deal. But you saved my fuckin’ life, Gee. I can’t be mad at you for that.”
Not yet, at least. Knowing him, he’d eventually get pissed off over what he’d lost, but there had been no other choice. He couldn’t hold it against Gerard.
Gerard’s face darkened. “I shouldn’t have had to save your life. It’s my fucking fault you were in trouble, anyway. I should’ve known not to trust Bert.”
“Yeah,” said Frank. “I wasn’t gonna say anything, but yeah.”
“I guess I just thought it would be good to have other vampires on my side,” Gerard said, mostly to himself. “Like they could tell me things no one else could. That’s kinda true, but Jesus, I’m sure there are vampires out there who are decent fucking people. Should’ve found them.”
His gaze snapped back to Frank. “Oh, fuck, I almost forgot - what even happened?” He gave Frank a once-over, as if checking to see no new wounds had materialized within the last few seconds. “Did he just attack you?”
“Pretty much,” Frank said with a grimace. “He was going on about how I was holding you back from your true calling and all that shit, and then, bam.” He touched a finger to the side of his neck. “Vampire.”
“Bitten, not a vampire,” Gerard corrected. “It takes more than just a bite to turn someone. If I hadn’t found you, you would’ve died.” He worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “God, if I hadn’t been there -”
“The world would’ve ended, I’m sure,” said Frank.
Gerard scowled. “I’m serious. I can’t believe he fucking bit you. And then left you to die.” He stared at the bite on Frank’s neck, then turned and slammed his hands down on the counter. “God fucking damn it,” he muttered. “He fucking bit you. Can’t believe him.”
“It’s okay,” Frank said in what he hoped was a reassuring tone. “I’m all good now, right?”
“You don’t get it.” Gerard looked back over at Frank, still scowling. Something in his eyes had shifted. They were dark and intense, focusing on Frank like he was the only thing left in the world. Frank swallowed hard and tried not to focus on the wave of heat that rushed over him.
Gerard stepped closer, his fingers brushing feather-light over Frank’s neck, then tracing down his sides and resting at his hips.
“It should’ve been me,” he said.
“You can still do it,” Frank said, his voice coming out as nothing more than a whisper.
Gerard pushed him back against the counter, pressing his face into the side of Frank’s neck that wasn’t bloodied up and breathing in deeply. “I know,” he said. “But I should’ve been first. I wanted to be the one getting to taste you. To make you fucking feel it.” He squeezed Frank’s hips. “You’re fucking mine.”
His voice had lowered into a growl, and fuck, that was probably the hottest thing Frank had ever heard. Gerard never failed to drive him crazy, but the way he was looking at Frank now, so fucking possessive - that was new. And Frank was definitely liking it.
“You should bite me,” he breathed. “Like, now.”
Gerard let his lips part against Frank’s skin, and Frank shivered with anticipation, but the jolt of pain he’d been expecting didn’t come. Gerard bit down oh-so softly, with no more force than a human would. Frank could feel the pressure of Gerard’s fangs against his neck - digging in, but not deep enough to break the skin. He wanted more.
“Come on,” he whined. “Gerard, please.”
Frank felt him smile. “You want it?” Gerard murmured. He dragged his lips up further before pressing his teeth to a second spot.
“Yes. Fuck, yes.”
Gerard hummed. “Ask nicely,” he said, his fingers creeping underneath Frank’s shirt. Frank fucking loved it. His skin felt electric, tingling in every place Gerard touched him.
“Please,” he said, fully aware of how desperate he sounded. “I’ve waited, Gerard, please -”
“That’s better,” Gerard purred, and then his fangs pierced Frank’s neck.
Frank gasped out loud. This time, the pain was minimal. There was a brief flash of razor-sharpness, and then pleasure surged in to replace it. It was a heady feeling, somewhere between a really good high and the buildup to an orgasm. Whatever it was, it was fucking addicting. Gerard lapped over the spot where he’d bitten Frank, then moved up to suck a hickey into Frank’s skin and bite down again. Frank swallowed a whimper.
“God, Frankie,” Gerard moaned. “You taste so fucking good, fuck.” He pulled away just far enough to lift Frank’s shirt up. Frank got the picture. He was one hundred percent on board. He tugged his shirt off as quickly as he could, then tossed it to the side, hopping up onto the counter.
The second his head turned back, Gerard was kissing him. Gerard didn’t bother keeping his fangs out of the way, and with only a gentle bite of Frank’s lower lip, Frank tasted blood. And - oh. That was different. That was good. Frank let his mouth open further, and his fangs grazed Gerard’s lips, the taste of his blood mingling with Frank’s.
“I kept fucking thinking about this,” Gerard said, tangling one hand in Frank’s hair and yanking his head back. “I knew it’d be good, but God, I had no fucking idea.” He trailed kisses down to Frank’s collarbone, nipping gently at the point between his neck and his shoulder. His other hand slid dangerously high up Frank’s thigh, and Frank bit back a moan.
“Yeah?” Gerard asked. “Yeah. Fuck.” He let go of Frank’s hair and started unbuttoning his fly, helping Frank pull his pants down and kick them to the floor. Frank was almost painfully hard, had been ever since Gerard’s mouth found his neck, and if Gerard didn’t touch him soon, he might just die. The venom of Gerard’s bite was still blurring his senses, coating everything in a hazy glow. Every touch sent sparks up his spine.
“How do you want it?” Gerard murmured. His fingers traced up Frank’s thigh and hooked into his waistband.
“I don’t care,” Frank said, “Just fucking touch me.”
Gerard smiled slow and lazy, with the tips of his fangs showing through. “So demanding,” he said.
“Please,” Frank bit out.
“Good boy,” Gerard said with a smirk. He nudged Frank’s legs apart so he could stand between them. Frank was fucking buzzing with need, and he had to bite his lip as Gerard dropped down to his knees.
One thing, though.
“Don’t fucking bite my dick,” he said.
Gerard giggled, the tension between them momentarily broken. “I won’t. Trust me, I’ve thought about this enough to know what I’m doing.”
He licked his lips, and Frank suddenly remembered what was going on.
Gerard didn’t waste time. He leaned in and pressed his face to Frank’s thigh, kissing up to the edge of his briefs and then still further, mouthing at Frank’s cock through the fabric. Frank let his mouth fall open, breathing harshly.
“That’s it,” Gerard murmured. “Fuck, yeah. You’re mine.” He licked Frank once more, the drag of his tongue hot and heavy. Frank thrusted his hips into it automatically. Gerard spared Frank a brief glance, looking up with those dark eyes, and then he tugged Frank’s briefs off and took him into his mouth.
Frank couldn’t hold back the groan that fell from his lips. He grabbed a fistful of Gerard’s hair and held it tight, fighting to keep his hips still. Gerard’s eyes fluttered shut. He looked fucking gorgeous, blissed-out with his tongue swirling around the head of Frank’s cock. He pulled off to kiss the tip, then swallowed Frank down again, deeper this time.
Frank bit down on his hand to keep himself from moaning out loud. He wasn’t sure if anyone was home, but if they were, they’d surely hear.
Gerard let Frank’s cock slip out of his mouth, jacking it slowly as he looked up at Frank with half-lidded eyes. “You don’t need to be quiet,” he said. “No one else is here.”
Frank let his hand fall back to the counter, gripping the edge tightly as Gerard twisted his wrist on the upstroke. “Fuck,” he said thickly. “Fuck, Gerard, don’t stop.”
“Whatever you want, Frankie.” Gerard bit down on Frank’s thigh, sending another wave of ecstasy through his bloodstream. Frank moaned and clenched his fist in Gerard’s hair. Gerard parted his thighs a little wider, taking him down and sucking gently, like he knew how much it drove Frank crazy - which, of course, he did. He went deeper, his eyes flicking up to meet Frank’s, and fuck, Frank’s cock was nearly in his fucking throat, and it felt so fucking good Frank didn’t know what to do with himself. His thighs were shaking with it.
When Gerard spoke again, his voice was low and hoarse. “You can fuck my mouth, y’know,” he said. “And when I said you could be loud, I meant it. I want to hear you.” He thumbed at the slit of Frank’s cock, spreading the bead of precome that had collected over the shaft and jacking him faster, tighter. “Can you do that for me, baby? Let me hear you nice and loud?”
“Fuck, Gerard -”
“You’re being so good for me,” Gerard said softly. “You want me to make you come, huh?”
“Yeah, fuck.” Frank thrusted into Gerard’s hand, biting his lip hard. “Your fucking mouth, Gee -”
Gerard opened his mouth, sucking in the tip of Frank’s cock before going all the way down, hollowing his cheeks and doing that fucking tongue thing he knew Frank loved. He knew exactly which buttons to push, and with the added effects of the venom running through Frank’s blood, Frank felt ready to explode. Every cell in his body was cranked up to high gear. He could feel everything in full technicolor, each little jolt of pleasure amplified until he could barely stand it.
“Fuck, I’m close,” Frank gasped. “Gerard, ‘m gonna -”
“Come for me,” Gerard said, his voice still soft but rough at the edges, and started jerking Frank off faster. Frank moaned and rolled his hips into the rhythm. “Come on, Frankie, just like that - you wanna come in my mouth?”
“Oh, God, please,” Frank whined. “Fuck me, ah -”
Gerard’s mouth felt like heaven. Frank couldn’t resist tugging on his hair, pulling him deeper, and when Gerard moaned around his cock, that was it. Frank’s hips kicked forward, fucking his mouth hard. “Shit,” said Frank, his mouth falling open as he panted, “Gerard, I’m gonna come, I’m -”
He cut himself off with a broken moan, spilling into Gerard’s mouth with a burst of euphoria that overwhelmed him from head to toe, his vision nearly whiting out.
Frank wasn’t sure how long it lasted, but it felt like forever. When he could see straight again, he was holding himself up on the counter, his heart still pounding. “Holy shit,” he breathed.
“Fuck,” Gerard cursed, and it was only then that Frank took notice of the huge fucking boner straining at his jeans. Frank dropped down beside him and fumbled with Gerard’s fly. The second his dick was free, Gerard was jerking himself off and panting into Frank’s neck, desperate little noises escaping every few seconds.
“God, you’re so fucking hot like that, been waiting so long to bite you, ah - wanna make you feel so good, mark you up, show everybody who you belong to -”
If Frank could get hard again from just that, he would have. He took Gerard’s hand away and replaced it with his own, jacking him hard and fast and making him moan with every breath.
“Bite me,” Gerard gasped, his moans rising higher and higher. “Frankie, bite me, I’m gonna -”
Frank sunk his teeth into Gerard’s neck without hesitation. Gerard cried out, and with a few more strokes, he came all over Frank’s fist, shuddering against him.
They sat leaned together for a minute in silence, the only sound being their heavy breathing.
“Fuck,” Gerard said reverently.
Frank giggled. “Yep.”
“We’re doing that again.”
“Yes, we are.”
“Right after I kick Bert’s ass,” Gerard mumbled, pushing himself to his feet and going to wash his hands. “It’ll be hot victory sex.”
“Yep,” Frank agreed. “And then again once my fangs are bigger.”
“For every special occasion, really.”
“Or not-so-special occasion.”
“True.” Frank grabbed the edge of the counter and used it to haul himself up, taking a moment to look at Gerard, to take in the sight of him all flushed and rumpled. Maybe it was the afterglow, but it made him feel all warm inside.
“I’m really glad you’re not dead,” he said softly.
Gerard smiled. “I’m really glad you’re not dead.”
Frank’s life had gotten pretty damn crazy, but he knew one thing: he really fucking loved Gerard, and if that was enough to save both their lives, that was probably all he needed.