Archive of Our Own

Frank coughed in the back room of the bakery. He’d been feeling sluggish all morning then the coughing started. He hoped he wasn’t coming down with another random illness. That would be the last thing he needed.

“Francis, are you getting ill again?” his mother asked, poking her head into the room.

Frank coughed again, covering his mouth with a cotton handkerchief. “No, mama. Just a small cough,” he said, smiling to assure her. “I’ll be fine.”

His mother, Linda, scowled and walked into the room. Frank groaned and tried to swat her hand away when she placed it in his forehead. He always felt like a child when she did that. “I don’t know, dear,” she finally said, frowning softly. “You look a bit flushed. Why don’t you go upstairs and rest a while. Your father and I can handle the shop.”

Frank sighed, coughing into his handkerchief again. He knew it would be fruitless to argue. “Yes, mama.”

Linda shooed him out the back door. “I’ll be up to check on you after we close shop,” she smiled, ushering him towards the staircase.

“Mama, I’m twenty two,” Frank whined. “You don’t have to baby me anymore.”

“Hush now, Francis,” she tutted. “You’re my only son and I’ll baby you for as long as I wish.”

Frank sighed again before climbing the two flights of stairs to his apartment. He lived on the third floor of the building that his parents owned. The bottom floor was the family bakery, Il Piccolo Panificio, above it was his parents’ apartment. Then, at the very top of the building, was Frank’s own apartment. He moved in the day he turned seventeen and he had been working at the bakery since he was thirteen.

Unlocking the door, Frank slipped inside, holding back another wave of coughs. He shuffled into the room, stopping when he saw a folded letter on the table. He looked back at his door, then to the key in his hand and back to the paper.

It definitely wasn’t there when he left that morning. And the door was locked.

Cautiously, he made his way to the table, picking the paper up. It was a thick and heavy parchment, probably costing at least a month’s wages to buy. Mister Francis Anthony Iero, Junior was written in a fancy script along the front. Turning the parchment over, Frank saw it was folded and sealed with a silvery blue wax. The seal was that of a wolf sitting and, if he stared long enough, looking fairly regal.

He carefully peeled the wax from the paper and unfolded the letter.

Mister Francis Anthony Iero, Junior,

Your presence is requested this evening at 221 Upper Birch Lane, North London. A carriage will be awaiting you at 3:00 pm sharp.

Cordially yours,
Gerard Arthur Way, Esq.

“North London?” Frank furrowed his brow. “Gerard Way?” The name meant nothing to him, but the parchment told him this man was rich and probably important. He glanced at the clock next to his bed, reading 2:28 pm. Whoever this man was, Frank only had half an hour to get ready.

But, how did he know Frank would be off early today? He normally wouldn’t leave the bakery until well past sunset.

Frank walked over to his dresser, picking up the jug sitting there and pouring some water into the basin. He pushed up his sleeves and grabbed the small bar of soap, wetting and lathering it in his hands before washing the flour off his face and neck. He scrubbed the more difficult spots, turning his cheeks slightly pink before drying his face and removing his shirt.

This Gerard Way was surely rich and proper, so Frank pulled out a clean undershirt and his nicest button up shirt. He was about to change into his dress trousers but stopped. His underpants were stained beyond belief. They were his only pair but there was no way he could wear them. This Gerard could probably smell the poor off of him so he didn’t need to smell like stagnant water too. He pulled the drawstring and slid the pants off, tossing them into a pile that needed to be washed. He tugged his dress pants on, buttoning up the fly and pulled both of his shirts on. He tucked them into his pants and grabbed his grey waistcoat, sliding it on and buttoning it up.

Slipping his shoes back on and lacing them, he looked in the mirror, straightening his hair slightly. Frank grabbed his coat, looking at the clock again.

2:57 pm. Perfect.

Frank shrugged his jacket on, tucked the parchment into an inside pocket, took a few seconds to lean against the door frame to cough and catch his breath, then made is way down the staircase and out through the alley on the side of the building.

There was indeed a carriage waiting. An expensive looking carriage. A big, blonde man with neatly trimmed facial hair was standing next to the horse. He was patting its neck and cooing to it softly when Frank shuffled over to him.

“Mr. Francis Iero, Jr?” he asked, smiling brightly.

Frank gulped and nodded. “Y-yes, sir. Um-Frank Iero i-is fine,” he stuttered, hands shaking at his sides.

“Robert Bryar,” the man said, extending a hand, smile still on his face. Frank smiled weakly and shook his hand briefly before letting his hand fall back to his side. “Shall we go? We want to try and beat the rain,” Robert said, opening the carriage door.

“Rain?” Frank pondered, looking at the for once clear blue sky.

“Well, the rain and the ghosts of All Hallows’ Eve,” Robert chuckled.

Frank shivered slightly, pulling his coat tight and climbed into the carriage. Robert shut the door behind him and climbed into the front. Frank glanced out the window, seeing his mother chatting away with a customer as the carriage pulled away. He could see the back of Robert’s head bobbing and the dark grey mare trotting along through the small window up front.

He watched the sun begin to set as they made their way out of Frank’s neighborhood and into the north of London. The clouds darkened as the journey continued and heavy drops of rain pelted the carriage, echoing loudly throughout the small compartment. Frank felt bad for Robert. He knew the rain must be ice cold and it was coming down in sheets, surely soaking the man.

The gas lamps of the city became few and far between and Frank wondered if this Upper Birch Lane was even in London. He was beginning to regret not bringing anything to read, even if the lights in the carriage weren’t lit. He was bored.

Frank rested his chin in his hand and stared out the window, breath fogging the glass. He began to draw shapes to stave off his boredom but even that became boring. The night sky was dark and the rain made it impossible for Frank to even see one foot out of the window. Robert’s shadow was just barely visible through the window, body bobbing with the carriage.

Up ahead, in the distance, Frank just barely began to make out a faint light. It grew steadily stronger as the carriage made it way up a shallow incline. Soon, Frank sees more lights, bigger and brighter lights and a large manor looms closer. The carriage stopped and the door opened, revealing Robert’s smiling, and soaking wet, face.

“Here we are, Mr. Iero,” he said, extending his hand again. The rain instantly seeped into Frank’s coat as he stepped outside. He shivered as Robert turned back to the carriage, hopping back up.

Frank hurried up the steps and to the front door of the manor, knocking loudly. His teeth chattered as the rain continued to soak through his clothes.

The heavy door opened and a tall man stood in the light. Frank could feel the warmth escaping from the home and he smiled. “Whom may I say is calling, sir?” the man asked, smiling softly.

“Oh, uh-Frank. I mean, Francis Anthony Iero, Junior. I-er-I was requested?” Frank said, unsure of himself. He was shuddering violently from the cold and rain.

“Of course,” the man said, standing back from the door. “Please come in, sir.”

Frank stepped past the older man, basking in the warmth of the house. He felt a tug on his shoulders as he took in the sight of gas lamps and jumped.

“Your coat, sir,” the man said, waiting for Frank to unbutton it. He nodded, blushing heavily and quickly opened the coat with numb fingers, shrugging it off his wet shoulders. The man, whom Frank assumed was the mysterious Gerard Way’s butler, hung the sopping coat on the coat rack before turning back to Frank. “Please wait in the drawing room, Mr. Iero,” he said, holding his arm out, palm up, in the direction of a room towards the back of the house. “Master Way will be with you shortly. I shall bring in some coffee while you wait.” He turned and entered a room on the left, leaving Frank alone.

Frank nodded to himself and walked down the hall. He peered into the first room he passed, seeing what looked like a sitting room. His eyes widened at the furniture. Everything looked imported and expensive. The next room he came to he hoped was the drawing room. The furniture in this room looked expensive as well. Frank felt like he was dirtying the room just by standing in it. There were two small couches facing each other with a marble coffee table in the center of them. Paintings hung on the wall, most seemed to be of the same woman. She looked to be between the ages of forty and sixty in the portraits and Frank assumed she was Mr. Way’s mother or grandmother.

There was a piano to one side of the room, grand and pristine white in color. Frank didn’t even want to guess how much it must have cost. He made a mental note not to touch anything in this house.

He sat on the very edge of one of the couches, looking around the room, taking in the thick, plush curtains and the fine Oriental rug under his wet shoes.

The soft clatter of china made him look back to the door. The man from earlier walked in with a silver tray. He placed it on the table and picked up the china pot. Filling one of the two china cups, he set the pot back down. “Cream and sugar?” he asked, smiling politely.

Frank bit his lip, shifting his feet on the rug. “Um-No. No, thank you,” he said, accepting the cup and saucer.

“There is no need to be nervous, Mr. Iero,” the man smiled. “You are not in any kind of trouble,” he said, standing up. He left the room and Frank took a sip of his coffee, letting the hot liquid warm his body. He took another, longer sip before setting the cup and saucer back down on the tray and looked around the room once more.

“You must be Francis Iero, Junior,” a voice by the door said.

Frank looked over and saw a man with fair skin and ebony hair in the doorway. He wasn’t tall, but still taller than Frank’s own five foot four stature. His hair almost reached his shoulder, curling softly around his ears. His eyes were sharp, light brown in color and framed by long, dark lashes. He had a small upturned nose and thin lips that were in a smirk. His black waistcoat and pants seemed tailored and fit his body perfectly and the sleeves of his white shirt were folded up to just below his elbows.

“Y-yes, sir,” Frank said. “F-Frank, um-Frank Iero is fine.”

Mr. Way walked over to the couch opposite Frank and sat. He picked up the pot and poured himself a cup of coffee, adding two small spoons of sugar to the dark liquid and stirring gently. He tapped the spoon on the edge of his cup, setting it on the saucer. Sitting back on the couch and crossing one knee over the other, he took a sip of his coffee.

Frank watched him with fascination for a few moments before he snapped out of his trance. Every move this man made seemed perfect, like he’d been using his body for over a hundred years. But, of course, that would be impossible. He appeared to only be a few years older than Frank himself. He picked up his own coffee and sipped it quietly, regarding Mr. Way over the rim of his cup.

The room was silent as the two men drank. Only the sound of the heavy rain pattering on the windows was heard. Mr. Way spoke up suddenly, yanking Frank out of the comfortable silence. “I did not ask you here to drink coffee with me in my drawing room, Frank Iero,” he said, setting his empty cup back on its saucer.

Frank gulped and set his own empty cup down. He started to wring his hands in his lap, his anxiety about this meeting creeping back up on him. The butler came back into the room and placed the cups and saucers back on the tray before picking it up.

“Thank you, James,” Mr. Way said, smiling to the older man who nodded back. He stood as the older man left the room and walked to the window. “Come stand with me,” he said.

Frank took a deep breath before standing and walking closer to the man. His mind had a thousand scenarios racing through it, each one worse than the last. He didn’t know why this man asked him to his home. He was clearly rich, much richer than Frank could ever hope or even think of being. He thought that maybe he or his family had somehow insulted Mr. Way, but he had never seen him before in his whole life.

“May, um. May I enquire as to why you asked me here?” Frank asked quietly, eyes on the dark polished floor. He looked up at the window when Mr. Way didn’t answer. The rain seemed like it would never end and a bolt of lightning lit up the sky. Thunder soon followed, shaking the house slightly.

“To feed,” Mr. Way said calmly. He watched the younger man for a reaction.

Frank looked up into his eyes, noting the deep greens and golds speckling the brown. They almost seemed to sparkle in the gas lights on the wall. He swallowed thickly. “T-to feed?” he asked.

Mr. Way’s hand stroked Frank’s jaw, making him shiver. “Yes, to feed,” he smiled. “I need human blood to survive, Frank,” he explained, fingers trailing down Frank’s neck and over his Adam’s apple. He watched as Frank’s eyelids became heavy and his body lax and smiled. “Your blood will taste perfect.” He grasped Frank’s hand loosely with his free hand. “But before I feed, I will give us both pleasure.”

“Pleasure?” Frank asked dumbly, watching the older man’s eyes sparkle.

“Yes, for the blood is best when it is racing through your veins,” he said and tugged on Frank’s hand, leading him out of the drawing room. “Oh, and you may call me Gerard from this point on.”

“Gerard,” Frank said softly, testing the name on his tongue. He followed the older man out of the room and up the large staircase. Frank couldn’t focus on his surroundings. His head felt like it was filled with cotton. He decided to focus on Gerard’s hand, still holding his own.

His fingers were soft, smooth, and warm. His hand was just slightly larger than Frank’s own. Frank’s eyes trailed up the man’s arm, taking in the porcelain skin, the thickness of his forearm. He watched Gerard’s back shifting under his shirt and waistcoat, the slight hunch of his shoulders, his hair brushing against his collar.

He stopped, opened a door and let Frank walk in before him.

The room was large, possibly the same size as Frank’s whole apartment. Frank gasped softly. The bed was solid, heavy and made of a rich, dark wood. The coverings were shades of charcoal grey and white with half a dozen fluffy pillows. In the corner was a large desk, covered with parchment, books, inkwells and quills. All of the furniture in the room looked to be made of the same heavy wood.

Frank was pushed further into the room as Gerard entered behind him, pressing the door shut.

Gerard turned the smaller man around, tilting his face up, watching the shadows dance over his olive skin and eyes. They weren’t as hazy as he expected them to be. He’s done this thousands of times and no human has ever slipped out of his control. “Interesting,” he hummed, watching Frank blink up at him.

“Um, what’s interesting?” Frank asked, voice calm and eyes lingering on Gerard’s.

“It seems I cannot control you,” he replied. “Not completely anyway.”

Frank frowned. Control him? What did he mean by that? “I-I’m afraid I don’t understand,” he said. Gerard only smiled and walked him backwards until his thighs pressed against the edge of the bed.

Gerard’s fingers traced over Frank’s cheek and down his jaw. He could feel Frank beginning to shake. He knew the younger might become scared and it would only make his blood pump faster. He licked his lips, leaning forward and taking in the younger’s scent. His fingers slid down Frank’s neck, thumb brushing over his Adam’s apple.

Frank swallowed, fingers shaking as he raised his hands, placing them on Gerard’s shoulders. His mother would kill him if he let this go too far. “Gerard,” he tried, voice cracking. He licked his lips and swallowed again. Gerard seemed to be taking his time, letting his palms slid over Frank’s chest and down to his sides. “Gerard, I-we can’t do this,” he said. “It’s not right. It-it’s a sin.”

“I’m already a sin, Frankie,” Gerard whispered, lips brushing Frank’s ear. His hands snaked around Frank’s back and up, feeling the muscles shift under his clothes. “A sin born over two thousand years ago.” He felt Frank shiver when his lips pressed to his neck. His pulse raced and his hands clenched around Gerard’s shoulders, but he didn’t push the older away.

Gerard placed a small kiss under Frank’s ear, then another when his breath hitched. His fingers worked on opening Frank’s waistcoat, sliding it off his shoulder. It dropped to the floor next to their feet and Gerard tugged his shirts out from his pants, fingers slipping under the cotton and feeling the warm flesh underneath. He trailed his lips down Frank’s neck, stopping every inch to place a kiss or nip at the tender skin. He unbuttoned the younger’s shirt, letting it pool in the floor before yanking his undershirt over his head.

Frank shivered, his still wet hair dripping down his neck. He let his hands fall back to his sides as Gerard stood back, watching him. He felt small, not to mention young and inexperienced, under his gaze. Gerard’s hand came forward, resting lightly on his hip and Frank exhaled a shaky breath. He didn’t know how to do this- this sex with another man thing.

Gerard ran his fingers up his chest, thumb brushing over his nipple and making Frank gasp. He smiled, stepped close again and pinched his fingers around the pink flesh. Frank’s whine softened into a moan when he released the now raised skin. He leaned forward, nose against Frank’s cheek as he pressed their lips together.

Even as Gerard licked at his lips, Frank kept them closed. He whined again when his nipple was pinched and Gerard slipped his tongue into his mouth, licking at his teeth and tongue. Frank tried to lean back and away from the man, but his body resisted the movement and Gerard had a strong grip around his waist.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, breath hitting Frank’s wet lips.

Frank nodded dumbly, sitting down on the soft bed. Gerard crouched down in front of him and untied his shoes, yanking them and his socks off before standing again. Frank looked up at the man, wide eyed and slightly breathless.

“Move up,” Gerard said, unbuttoning his own waistcoat.

Frank complied quickly, scooting up the bed until his feet were no longer hanging off. He kept himself propped up on his elbows as he watched the older man strip.

His waistcoat fell to the floor, and then came his braces and both shirts. Frank’s breath caught in his throat at the sight of his pale and smooth skin. It was on par with a china doll. His arms were strong and his muscles looked firm. It was no wonder Frank could not escape his grasp. He ducked down for a moment before crawling up on the bed and hovering over Frank’s smaller body.

Gerard smiled as Frank shifted further up the bed and laid his head on a pillow. He looked so perfect and delicious. He would enjoy taking his virginity and his blood. He leaned down on his elbows, one leg between Frank’s, and kissed him again.

Frank was a bit more willing this time, kissing him back with a small amount of enthusiasm. His body tensed when Gerard’s hand made contact with his hip again. He hummed softly as Gerard’s lips left his own and found his neck again.

He kissed and nipped at Frank’s pulse point, smiling when Frank shifted underneath him. His erection was growing nicely, just like Gerard’s own, when he palmed him through his trousers.

Frank yelped, hips jerking up and cock rubbing into Gerard’s hand. He bit his lip and pressed his head back into the pillow.

This wasn’t right, he knew that, but his body wanted it. It was begging for it, screaming for it.

“G-gerard,” he whined, tilting his head back farther as Gerard scrapped his teeth over his Adam’s apple. Frank whimpered when his collarbone was licked then bit roughly.

Gerard shifted his weight to his knees, pushing his body up and his expert fingers slipped under the waist band of Frank’s trouser, working the buttons through their holes. His tongue slid down Frank’s chest, stopping to suck and tease his nipples as he pushed the younger’s pants off his hips.

He expected to feel the rough cotton of Frank’s underpants but found smooth skin and coarse hair. He release Frank’s nipple from between his teeth, hearing a sigh as he continued south. His tongue dipped into Frank’s navel and he felt the younger flinch.

“You can touch me,” he whispered into the swell of Frank’s abdomen, teeth scraping against the flesh. “Don’t be afraid.”

Frank’s fingers instantly laced themselves through his hair, tugging slightly before releasing. His moans were muffled and he shifted his knees, knocking them together between Gerard’s thighs. He gasped when Gerard’s hands squeezed his ass, lifting it off the bed and tugging his pants off completely. His face flushed and he squirmed under Gerard’s gaze.

Gerard licked his lips, fingertips grazing across Frank’s hip and pelvis and dragging through his pubic hair. Frank pulled his arms to his chest, like he was trying to cover himself, and Gerard smirked. “There’s no need for such modesty, Frank,” he cooed. It was a surprise to him that the younger was not wearing underpants, a pleasant surprise. He lifted himself up onto his knees, unbuttoning his pants slowly, letting them settle low on his hips. “Have you ever seen another man’s cock before?” he purred, thumbs under the waist of his pants.

“N-no,” Frank mumbled. He watched as Gerard shifted his trousers lower and lower, slowly revealing a thin line of hair trailing down from his navel then the thicker patch of hair and finally his thick, flushed cock. Frank swallowed heavily, letting his eyes wander over the man’s body, taking in all his curves, the jutting of his hip bones, the paleness of his thighs, and the sharp angles of his collarbone. He truly was a beautiful man, Frank did not doubt this, but he was, in fact, a man.

He tossed his pants to the floor, frowning when he noticed Frank was tense. Gerard leaned down, placing his forearms on either side of Frank’s head and kissed him.

“G-gerard,” Frank whined, pushing him away and turning his head. “We shouldn’t- we can’t-”

“Oh, but we can,” Gerard replied, mouthing at his neck and licking the skin over his jugular. He felt Frank’s blood rushing through the vein and he hummed. He worked his legs in between the younger’s, feeling him shiver underneath his body. “There’s nothing to fear,” he whispered into Frank’s ear. “No one will ever know of this meeting or what has occurred.”

Frank relaxed slightly, thighs still tight around Gerard’s. “R-really?” he questioned, looking up at him. “You won’t tell anyone?”

“Not a soul,” Gerard said with a warm smile. He leaned down again, brushing his lips over Frank’s.

Frank surged up, taking him by surprise, and wrapping his arms around Gerard’s shoulders.

Gerard pulled away after a moment and reached for a small jar on the nightstand. He stuck three fingers inside and scooped out a bit of the gel, warmed by the kerosene lamp behind it. Kneeling again, he lifted Frank’s legs and kissed his right ankle before resting them over his shoulders.

“What’s that?” Frank asked, watching the older smear the gel over his fingers. It was mostly clear with a slight yellow tint.

“It’s kind of my own little creation,” Gerard replied, working the gel around with his thumb, making sure every bit of his fingers were coated. “Makes this a whole lot easier.” When he was satisfied, he placed the tip of his index finger on Frank’s hole, applying a small amount of pressure. “And it also makes it less painful for you,” he said, dipping his finger in to the first knuckle.

Frank whined and tried to curl his body in on itself. Gerard shushed him softly, working his finger in farther. He pulled it out and lined up his middle and ring fingers.

“This’ll hurt more, but just relax,” he said, getting a nod and slipping the three fingers inside the younger.

Frank whimpered and pushed his face into the pillow, legs tense on Gerard’s shoulders. He gasped out, trying to relax his body when Gerard’s fingers started moving inside him. He could feel them touching him in places he never knew he had, almost like they were searching for something. He felt a small shock at the base of his spine and he let out a moan.

Gerard smiled, finally finding his prostate and stroked it again. He watched Frank’s thighs shiver as he moaned softly. “You’re almost ready,” he said, pulling his fingers out halfway. He opened them, stretching Frank’s ass gently a few times before slipping them out. Frank let out a sigh of relief as Gerard reached for more of the gel. He coated his dick, rubbing the excess on Frank’s ass again. “Okay,” he said, moving closer to Frank and letting his legs slide down his back so his knees were pressed over his shoulders.

He leaned down and Frank winced as his thighs were pressed back against the sides of his chest. Gerard’s dick rubbed against his entrance and he gulped. “Okay,” he responded, giving Gerard a small nod.

Gerard nodded back and pushed in, feeling Frank’s body tensing around his dick. He was tight, not the tightest Gerard has had, but still very tight. Gerard let out a groan as Frank whinged, face contorting in pain. He pushed forward until his hips met Frank’s ass and the younger moaned.

That spot was hit again. Frank didn’t know what it was but Gerard knew and that was all that he cared about. He arched his neck, kissing Gerard on the chin then the lips when Gerard leaned closer. Frank slipped his legs off Gerard’s shoulders, wrapping them around his waist.

Their breath came out in little ‘ah ah’s. Frank’s fingernails scratched at Gerard’s back, digging in deeper whenever his prostate was rubbed. Gerard slid his left arm under Frank’s back, grabbing his hair at the base of his neck while his right held Frank’s thigh up. The bed shook, just barely knocking against the wall, and Frank’s back arched.

He tightened his thighs around Gerard, pressing close to keep the slick slide on his own cock. The burn of Gerard’s cock was still there, masked by the shockwaves of pleasure. He could feel the tightening in his stomach rushing closer.

Gerard could sense it, too. He noticed how Frank’s drawn out moans were becoming shorter and shorter, how his dick throbbed between them and how his heart raced. He focused on Frank’s pulse, turning his head to the side and nipping at his neck. He fucked the smaller man faster, feeling his own climax nearing just as steadily. He scrapped his teeth against Frank’s neck and Frank’s nails clawed up his back. They were bitten down but still sharp and Gerard groaned.

Frank keened below him and Gerard sunk his teeth into his neck, puncturing his jugular just as his muscles clenched. He came inside Frank, hips jerking softly and smearing Frank’s cum between their bodies as he drank his life blood.

Frank whimpered as his body grew heavy and tired. “Gerard.”

Gerard pulled away from his neck, licking the skin clean. His toxin will wipe Frank’s memory clean and knock him out until at least late morning. “Shh, just sleep, Frankie,” he cooed, stroking his face. He pulled out of Frank slowly, pushing himself up on his hands and knees. Frank was already asleep, snoring softly. The small pinpricks on his neck would be gone by morning.

He slid off the bed, walked to the bathroom and cleaned himself. Glancing over his shoulder in the mirror, Gerard smiled when he saw the bright pink scratches. Some of them had droplets of blood forming rough lines. Shrugging on a thick bathrobe, he left his room and nodded to the two servants waiting a few feet away. They rushed inside to tend to Frank, cleaning and redressing him, while Gerard made sure there was nothing left to remind the young man of him.

“James?” he called.

“Yes, Master Way?” the older man replied from the top of the stairs. He’d been working for Gerard for almost fifty years now, keeping his and his brother’s secret safe.

“The letter?”

“Has been destroyed,” James said. “The seal was still on the paper so there should be no trace of you at his home.”

“Very good,” Gerard smiled. “Make sure Robert gets the young man home safely and none of his personal items are left behind.”

James bowed his head and took his leave back down stairs.

Gerard opened the door across from the staircase, entering the library. His younger brother, Michael, was reclining on the chaise longue, a thick book in his lap. Gerard sat on the couch opposite him and picked up his current book from the end table. The fire crackled softly, warming the room and adding more light.

“Why must you choose men, brother?” Michael asked, eyes never leaving his book. They’ve had this discussion before and the answer never changes.

“Because it’s harder for a man to fake an orgasm like a woman can so I know when I’m doing something right,” Gerard replied automatically. “Besides, I like the feeling of them coming against my stomach.”

“Gross,” Michael said.

Gerard ignored the comment and opened his book, picking up where he left off. The two remained in silence, only the fire making any noise.

“You know sodomy is considered illegal in this country, as well as most countries around the world,” Michael said. “And you still refuse to kill your meals,” he added quietly.

“You know I can’t kill them, Michael,” Gerard glared, setting his book on the couch. “I could never kill them, even when we were young! We used to be human too! Don’t forget that!” he shouted.

Michael looked up at him. His eyes were sad and knowing and Gerard hated it. “I know,” he said softly. “I’m sorry.”

Gerard took a deep breath, letting it out slowly before speaking again. “I’m going to bed.” Frank would be gone by now. Robert will be taking him home, making sure he’s put in bed and any traces of Gerard are gone from his apartment. Gerard will never see him again. He frowned as he left the library, walking the short distance to his room. He locked the door behind him, stripped off his robe and crawled under the warm covers. His pillows still smelled like Frank.

~

“Francis?” Linda called, unlocking the door with her spare key. “Francis, are you ill?” she asked into the silent room. The sun was just turning the sky pink but the curtains were drawn and the room dark. She huffed out and made her way to her son’s bed.

He was curled under the covers, head peeking out. Linda sat on the edge of the bed and shook his shoulder.

“Francis, wake up, mio figlio,” she said softly.

Frank groan, curling up tighter. His lower back felt like it was on fire and his head was surely stuffed with cotton fluff. “Mama,” he whimpered and clutched at his covers.

Linda placed her hand on Frank’s forehead and then his cheeks. She frowned when she felt how warm and clammy his skin was. “Oh dear, you’re burning up. You stay in bed and I shall bring up some soup in a short while,” she said, standing and walking over to the dresser.

She poured some water into the basin and grabbed a cloth, wetting and wringing it out. Moving back over to her son, she wiped at his face, cleaning it of the sweat.

“Thank you, mama,” Frank said, curling back under his cover.

“Rest up, mio figlio,” she smiled, walking to the door. She shut it quietly, leaving Frank in darkness.

He whimpered again, resting his palm on his lower back. A flash of dark hair and sparkling eyes flitted through his mind and his eyes snapped open. Who was that? He racked his brain, trying to find more details for this mysterious person. He came up empty. Only the dark hair and sparkling eyes.

They were brown, no. Hazel. With hints of green and gold. It felt like he went into a trance when he pictured them.

Frank rubbed at his back, massaging the muscles before pulling the covers back and sitting up slowly. He slid off the bed, wincing and gripping the headboard tightly. He didn’t remember hurting his back yesterday. In fact, he didn’t remember much of yesterday, except that he was getting ill again and was sent upstairs by his mom.

Taking a deep breath, Frank shuffled his way over to the dresser and pulled off his under shirt. He looked in the mirror hanging on the wall and frowned. His skin was pale and slick with sweat, his hair was flat on his head and his eyes had dark circles under them.

I look like shit, he thought dejectedly, picking up the cloth his mother left. He sloshed it around the water, lathered it with soap and started washing his face, neck and chest.

A shock of pain went up his spine and he let out a sharp whine, grasping the dresser tight. He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths, exhaling through his nose until the pain subsided.

The door clicked open and Frank looked up. His mom came in, balancing a plate on top of a bowl in one hand and a small jug of water in the other.

“Ah, Francis. You’re awake,” she smiled, setting the jug on the table and grabbing the plate before its contents spilled. “How are you feeling?”

Frank thought for a moment, watching his mother prepare his breakfast. “Weak,” he said, “and my back hurts. Did I injure myself yesterday?” He moved over to the table and sat in the chair.

Linda slid the bowl of warm soup in front of Frank. “I do not think so,” she said, thinking. She hummed softly, cutting a few slices of bread and cheese. “No, I don’t remember you injuring yourself, just that you had a cough. How is your cough, mio figlio?”

“Fine, mama,” Frank replied, eating a spoonful of soup. “I haven’t coughed since I woke up.”

“And your fever?” she asked, pouring him a glass of water. She checked his temperature and frowned. “Siete ancora molto caldo.”

“Mama, we are in England, not Italy,” Frank said. He dipped his bread into his soup, soaking it thoroughly before taking a bite.

“Forgive me, bambino, for speaking the language I was born with,” she said, standing with her hands on her hips. She smiled, ruffling Frank’s hair and kissed his forehead. “Eat up and get some more rest.”

“Yes, mama,” Frank said, lifting his bowl and drinking some soup. Linda left the room, shutting the door behind her and Frank continued to slowly eat his meal.

He piled the dishes on top of each other and pushed them to the center of the table when he was done. Frank stood up slowly and made his way back to bed where he crawled under the now cool sheets. It was a pleasant feeling on his flushed skin. He flipped the pillow over and settled down under the cover.

~

“Pa, do you know a Way?” Frank asked, pulling a tray of rolls out of the oven. “I mean anyone with the last name Way?” It had been two months after he woke up in his bed with no memory of the night before. He still had flashes of bright and hypnotic hazel eyes but recently, the name Way came to his mind. Maybe the eyes belonged to a man or woman named Way.

Frank Sr. frowned, thinking as he kneaded the dough for the next batch. “Can’t say that I do, son. Why?” he asked, dropping the dough into a bread pan.

Frank shrugged, moving the rolls to a cooling rack. “No reason, I guess.” He grabbed a basket of cool rolls and walked to the front of the bakery, smiling at his mother.

“Thank you, Francis,” she said, handing a customer his change. “Have a nice day.”

Frank set the basket on the back counter, nodding to another customer who walked in. He drummed his fingers on the wooden counter, waiting for his mother to finish serving the customer. “Mama, do you know anyone with the last name Way?” he asked, picking at his nail beds.

“Hmm?” she hummed, dusting her hands on her apron. “No, mio figlio. I do not think so.” She looked at the clock next to the register. “Come, dear, it’s almost lunch time. Put the sign up, will you?”

“Yes, mama,” Frank said, walking to the door. He closed the door, locking it and turning the sign in the window to read closed for lunch.

~

Frank wrapped his scarf closer to his neck and stuffed his hands in his coat pockets. He might have been in Southern Italy but the weather was reminding him of a London winter. Rain fell in heavy sheets, soaking him to the bone as he entered the bar.

He sighed at the warmth, hanging his coat on the rack along with his scarf. He warmed his hands by the fire before heading up to the bar, ordering a strong drink.

It’s been two years since he left England. He wanted to live on his own and Italy was the perfect place. It was, after all, his birth place. Sorrento, a small village by the sea. A sea which was currently pummelling the shore with a ferocity the likes of which he’d never seen. He smiled to the barkeep, a pretty woman with nice curves and a tender smile, as he sipped his drink.

Over the last three years, he had been remembering small details about the mysterious person with the last name Way. He still did not know if they were a man or a woman, but he did know more of their features.

Ebony hair that brushed their shoulders. Bright hazel eyes that sparkled with flecks of green and gold. Alabaster skin. A voice that sent chills through Frank’s body. He had been searching for the person since he first met them, All Hallows’ Eve three years ago. Frank didn’t know what had happened when they met, what they talked about or even where he was that night.

He finished the drink, signalling to the barkeep again.

She filled his glass with a smile, “Rough day, dear?”

“You could say that,” Frank chuckled. “Got caught in the rain on my way home.”

The soft chatter and clinking of glasses echoed through the room as the barkeep rested her forearms on the counter, bosoms on display. “I can tell something’s on your mind. Care to talk about it?” she asked.

Frank looked up from his drink and gave her a half smile. “I’ve been searching for someone I met a few years ago,” he started and she hummed. “I don’t know their first name or even if they’re a man or lady, but I just know I need to find them again. I don’t know why but I just do.” He frowned, finishing lamely.

“Sounds like you’re in love,” she giggled, light hitting her face and revealing her freckles. A guy down the bar tapped his glass on the counter and she nodded. “Be right back, dear,” she said to Frank, walking over to the other man.

He watched her fill his glass with beer, chatting to him and a few other men. The door opened, shutting with a soft thump seconds later, and Frank sipped at his drink.

Gerard removed his wet coat and scarf, hanging it with the other patrons. He was out hunting and a delicious scent brought him to the bar. A scent he knew but that was impossible. He hasn’t seen him for over three years. Mikey and he left England for their hometown of Sorrento two years ago, living in a manor they owned.

He looked around at the customers, all men not including the woman barkeep. Gerard knew her, a sweet young thing whose family owned the building, but he still had no taste for a lady’s blood.

A young man at the bar caught his eye. It was his scent that Gerard smelled. He watched him finish his glass before the barkeep, Jamia, hurried over, refilling it for him. The man smiled to her, getting a grin in return.

Gerard strode over, taking the seat next to the man. He smiled when he saw his face. It was him. The man whose blood Gerard never forgot and who could not be control. Frank Iero.

Jamia smiled to Gerard, moving in front of him. “Gerard, I haven’t seen you in months!” she beamed, reaching over and hugging him. He returned the hug, patting her back before sitting back. “What’ll it be?” she asked, hands on the counter.

“Whisky, please Jamia,” Gerard replied. “Thank you.”

She nodded, grabbing a glass and pouring the drink. Frank glanced at him, eyes wide with recognition. That wasn’t something Gerard had seen before. He sipped at the drink when it was handed to him.

“G-gerard Way?” he asked, turning slightly to face Gerard more.

“Yes,” Gerard said with a soft smile. He was cautious of Frank. No victim had ever remembered him. His toxin was to make sure of that.

Frank gaped at Gerard for a second, Jamia watching the two of them. “Do you know Gerard, dear?” she asked.

“Yes,” Frank said, not looking at her. “He’s the one I’ve been searching for.”

Searching? Gerard thought. He’s been searching for me? For how long?

“Well, talk about convenient,” Jamia chuckled. “And now you finally know the person is a man.”

Frank nodded, finishing his current drink. He made a face when the alcohol burned his throat, nodding when Jamia held up the bottle.

“I-No one had ever heard of a person named Way when I was in London,” he started, looking down at his drink.

Gerard watched him closely, noting how relaxed his body was. He wondered if he could take Frank home, maybe feed from him again. “I’m sorry, I can be kind of a recluse without realizing it. And I don’t think the English weather agreed with my health,” he said, finishing his first glass.

He pointed to the counter and Jamia nodded, setting the whisky bottle down. “I’ll check on you two in a bit,” she said, going back over to the group at the opposite end of the bar.

Gerard poured himself a new glass, topping off Frank’s before setting the bottle down. “How long had you been searching for me?” he asked.

Frank lifted his head, eyes already becoming glassy from the liquor. “Um, about three years now. I wanted to, uh, to ask you what happened that night?” Gerard tensed slightly, alcohol burning his throat. “I-I don’t remember anything. Just waking up in my apartment,” Frank said and Gerard relaxed.

“We talked,” Gerard said. “Nothing more.”

“But what did we talk about?” Frank asked, leaning over into Gerard space.

His glass was empty again and Gerard refilled it. He wasn’t a fan of intoxicated blood, but he needed to get Frank out of the bar soon. “Nothing important,” he said, drinking the whisky still in his glass as Frank down his own drink in one go. “Quite the impressive drinker,” he smiled. He could smell how drunk Frank already was but it wasn’t enough to coax him home.

“’M not corned,” he mumbled, eyes on the amber liquid filling his glass.

“I didn’t say you were,” Gerard said, shaking his head slightly.

“I know, but I’m not,” Frank smiled, leaning against the counter. “Yet,” he snickered, holding his glass up and swallowing the whisky. “More please!”

Gerard chuckled, refilling his glass once more. Frank seemed to be a happy drunk which would help his plan. “I think it’s about time for you to go home, Frank,” he said, voice stern.

Frank shook his head, pushing back from the counter. “No, ’m not done drinkin’,” he stated, words slurring. “An you haven’t told me what we talked about,” he said, pointing an accusing finger at Gerard’s chest.

“The weather, the economy, my blood lust, the usual things men talk about over coffee,” Gerard said, hand waving in Frank’s direction. He watched Frank frown and poured him another drink.

“You’re tryin’ ta get me drunk so I’ll forget, but it won’ work,” Frank said. He gulped down the new drink, cringing at the burn and slammed the glass on the counter. His swaying told Gerard he was ready.

“C’mon,” Gerard said, standing. He grabbed Frank’s arm, helping him to his feet as Jamia came over.

“Oh dear, I think he’s had enough,” she gasped, shaking her head.

Gerard nodded, laughing softly as Frank gripped his shirt. “Yeah. I’ll take him home.” He pulled out his wallet, handing Jamia the money for the drinks and a tip. “Good night, Jamia,” he said, wrapping an arm around Frank’s waist.

“G’night Gerard,” she smiled, setting the now empty bottle under the counter and taking the money over to the register.

Frank shuffled over to the door, head spinning. He reached for his coat and scarf, fingers missing the clothing and hitting the wall.

Gerard sighed, grabbing the coat with Frank’s scent and slipping it on the drunk man’s body. He wrapped the scarf around Frank’s neck before bundling himself up. Robert was waiting outside with the carriage when he opened the door, exiting the bar back into the downpour.

“Find what you were looking for, sir?” he asked, opening the carriage door. He sniffed the air when Gerard helped Frank into the compartment. “Is that… You’ve never gone after one person twice.”

“I know,” Gerard replied, climbing in himself. The door shut with a snap and he slid his arm around Frank’s waist, holding him close. He buried his mouth and nose in the younger’s wet hair, savouring his scent as the carriage started moving.

Frank hummed softly. His head was on Gerard’s shoulder, bouncing from the carriage ride. His vision was blurry and his head was foggy. He didn’t know how long the ride was but the carriage soon came to a stop, jogging his head and making him groan.

“Shh, we’re here,” Gerard said, sliding away and pulling Frank’s waist with him. Robert helped them both out of the carriage, holding the umbrella overhead. Gerard nodded to him, taking the umbrella and walking to the front door.

It opened as he reached it, James holding his hand out for the umbrella with a smile. “Welcome back, Master Way.”

“Thank you, James,” Gerard said, hiking Frank’s slumping body up.

Frank went limp almost immediately and Gerard lifted him into his arms. He’d passed out. Gerard sighed and carried him upstairs to his bedroom, James trailing behind. Gerard set Frank’s feet on the floor and held him up as James unbuttoned his coat, taking it and his scarf off his wet body. “I assume you’ll be waiting until tomorrow to feed, sir?”

“Yes,” Gerard said, setting Frank on the covers. He removed his coat and scarf, handing the items to James, who left with a nod.

The door was shut with a soft click and Gerard moved over to Frank. His clothes were still damp, sticking to his skin. He removed his shoes and socks, setting them at the floor near the foot of the bed. He lifted the unconscious man, holding him in a sitting position as he unbuttoned his shirt and trousers. Removing the garments, he tossed them onto the floor along with Frank’s undershirt. He left the younger man’s nether garments on and lifted his body off the bed once more, pulling back the covers and sliding him between the sheets.

He then turned to his dresser, opening the drawer and grabbing out his pajamas. Changing into the clothes, Gerard walked around to the opposite side of the bed, slipping under the covers. He wrapped his arm around Frank’s cold body, pulling him close and snuffed out the lamp.

~

Frank groaned, snuggling down into the covers. His head was pounding and he cried out when he opened his eyes. “Fuck! What the devil? How much did I fucking drink?”

He rubbed his face, sitting up and looking around the room. It was completely unfamiliar. He was in a stranger’s house. Someone must have gotten him drunk and taken him home. But who? He blinked, rubbing his eyes again. He remembered meeting someone. He remembered meeting him. Gerard Way. The man he had been looking for.

But. Was he in Gerard’s house? Or someone else’s?

At the foot of the large bed was a set of folded clothes. His clothes. His eyes went wide, glancing down to his body. He sighed when he saw he was not naked, as he had feared.

Another look around the room revealed all the drapes were drawn, letting no light in. Frank didn’t know what time it was, there was no clock to be found. He crawled out of the bed; the plush rug underneath his feet was warm and soft. He grabbed his clothes, quickly redressing himself and moving to the dresser. He poured water into the basin on top, washing his face and neck. He swayed on his feet, head still pounding, as he made his way to the door. Opening it and peeking out into the hall, he saw no one. The house was silent.

Frank slowly opened the door fully, cautiously walking out into the hall. The house was large and warm, oil lamps burning bright on the walls. He listened at the next door, ear pressed firm, but heard nothing.

Maybe everyone was out for the day?

He walked down the stairs into the main hall and jumped when a voice spoke.

“Ah, Mr. Iero. Good morning.”

Frank turned, hand over his heart, and stared at the older man. He looked familiar.

“You may call me James,” he said, bowing slightly. “I am Master Way’s butler. Would you care for lunch?”

Frank nodded dumbly. So, I am in Gerard’s house, he thought, following James.

“Um,” he started, wincing when his head throbbed again. “Wh-where is Gerard?”

“He is… resting at the moment,” James replied, holding his arm out when they reached the table.

Frank sat, feeling awkward with all the luxuries around him. His mother may have come from the upper society but he still felt uncomfortable. He took the room in, the lush rug under the table, the fine cloth draped over the wood, the expensive cutlery in front of him. He jumped when two dishes were set down, the bowl full of vegetable soup sloshing but not spilling over the rim. A small plate with two soft rolls was behind the bowl and a glass of wine was poured for him.

“T-thank you,” he mumbled, looking up at James.

“It is my pleasure, sir,” James bowed. “Master Gerard was clear when he informed me that you do not partake of meat.”

Frank nodded, picking up the spoon when James left him alone in the room. He wondered where Gerard might be in the house. If he was in the house. He didn’t believe James when he said the man was resting.

He also wondered why Gerard brought him here, to Gerard’s house. But then he remembered that Gerard wouldn’t know where Frank was staying while in Sorrento. He tore a roll in half, dipping one side into his soup before taking a bite.

After he finished his lunch, a young woman took the dishes away with a wink in Frank’s direction. He gave a nervous cough and decided to walk through the house.

All the curtains in the house seemed to be closed. A peek outside through the front reception room revealed a blue sky, sun high and bright. “Weird,” he said to himself. Why would they have the curtains closed on such a gorgeous day? He released the curtain, soft, navy velvet sliding out of his fingers, and wandered the rest of the manor.

The building was unlike any he’s ever seen, with its sprawling rooms and seemingly priceless furniture, but Frank only ran into two people while he was downstairs. James and the perky maid, who seemed to have her eye on Frank.

It wasn’t that he did not like women, because he did. Just most women tended to ignore him. They usually wanted a tall, handsome man who had more than enough money to buy them lavish jewelry and trinkets, and he was none of that.

He gave the girl a nervous smile and headed up the staircase. Even though it was in the dead of winter, the house remained warm. It reminded Frank of a warm summer’s day and he smiled.

There was a set of large double doors at the top of the staircase, heavy, dark wood hiding its interior. Frank grasped the glass knob, looking over his shoulder once, and turned it, pushing the door open.

The flickering light of a fire danced across the wide room. He slipped in, eyes wide and mouth open. Bookcases lined every wall, each completely filled, almost like one more book and they would burst at their seams. The large hearth was set between tall windows, both covered by the thick drapes. There were two plush sofas set in the center, facing each other, and one had a body resting with a book in hand.

The man turned the page in his book before stiffening, looking back towards the door. “Frank, you’re awake,” Gerard smiled, placing a ribbon between the pages and closing his book.

Frank watched, back to the door, as Gerard stood, setting the book on the sofa, and walked over to him. “I-I’m sorry I fell asleep, um, i-in your bed,” Frank stuttered, face flushing.

Gerard smiled, stopping a few feet from Frank. “That’s quite alright,” he said. “You had a lot of alcohol last night and could not answer when I enquired as to where you were staying, so I brought you to my home.” Frank nodded, still embarrassed. “Come,” Gerard said, extending his hand. “Sit with me, please.”

With another nod, Frank took his hand, warm and soft in his own, and was led over to the sofas. Gerard slid his book to the corner, sitting and patting the spot next to him. Frank sat, nervous and tense as Gerard relaxed back into the cushions.

“There is no need to be nervous, Frank,” Gerard cooed, voice soft as silk, but Frank did not relax.

He stayed perched on the end of the seat, hands gripping his knees. “We, uh,” he started, looking at his bare feet. “We didn’t do, um, anything, last night. Did we?” he asked, biting his lip.

“No,” Gerard replied, hand sliding across Frank’s shoulders, coming to rest in the center of his shoulder blades. “I would never take advantage of you while you are intoxicated.”

Frank nodded, still uneasy.

“Jamia said you had been searching for me,” he said and Frank looked up. “Might I ask why and how you knew I was in Sorrento?”

“I,” Frank started, swallowing and taking a breath. “I didn’t know. I came to Italy to visit my family,” he said, never breaking eye contact. The fire made Gerard’s eyes appear like they were on fire themselves, light and shadow weaving across them.

“I thought your family lived in London,” Gerard said, removing his hand and propping his arm over the back of the sofa.

Frank frowned, back suddenly cold. “My parents live in London, but their families are from Italy.” Gerard hummed, letting him continue. “My mother’s from a very high class family in Venice. She met my father, who was in the city for work and they married in secret. Her parents didn’t approve but they just, let it happen, I guess. I think it’s because they liked my father. After they were wed, they moved to Sorrento where my father’s family lives.”

Gerard nodded, taking the information in. “I did not know the Iero’s were from Sorrento. How long have they lived here?” he asked, curious to learn the answer. Sorrento was, and has been for over two thousand years, his hometown.

“Oh, they moved here from Sicily in the late fifteenth century,” Frank said.

Gerard went quiet, eyes flicking from side to side as he thought.

Frank felt uneasy again, thinking maybe he said something wrong. He shifted in his spot, feet rubbing against each other, and scratched at his stubble.

“Oh, yes,” Gerard finally said, eyes brightening. “Now I remember. They live just on the other side of town, no?”

“Um, yes. On the eastern side,” Frank supplied, fingers pushing his hair back. “I’m staying with my grandparents for a while. Before I go back to London.”

Gerard nodded. He knew the family, not well, but he had heard of them. Fairly poor and had always been. “So were you born in Sorrento?” he asked, moving his hand to Frank’s back again.

“I was,” Frank answered. “But we moved to London before I was two years. My mother’s family only saw me once before that, so, when I told my parents that I wanted to come to Italy, they both sent letters to their families. Both of which said they’d be happy to let me stay with them during my visit. My mother’s parents even insisted on paying for the journey.”

Gerard hummed again, palm sliding down Frank’s back.

“How long have you been in Sorrento?” Frank asked, relaxing against his hand.

“I was born in Sorrento a long time ago, as was my younger brother,” he said, scooting closer to Frank.

“You have a brother?”

Gerard nodded. “Yes, he’s asleep at the moment and will be until night fall. I, too, usually sleep until night fall, but I decided to wake early in case you needed me.”

Frank blinked, brow furrowed. “In case I needed you? But what would I need you for?” he asked. He was a grown man of twenty five. He did not know why he would need Gerard.

“It is not important. At the moment, I need you,” he said, eyes flicking down quickly before catching Frank’s gaze again.

“Me?”

Gerard hummed, leaning in close. Frank hadn’t realized how close the other man had moved. Their legs were pressed together, Gerard’s warm hand low on Frank’s back and his face nuzzling Frank’s neck. “I went out last night for a reason,” he said, warm breath sending a shiver down Frank’s body. “I would like to feed from you.”

“Feed?” Frank whispered. He gasped when Gerard’s lips skimmed up his neck, pressing a kiss just below his ear.

“Yes, feed. But only if you agree,” Gerard said, lips soft against Frank’s ear. “If you say no, I will take you home.”

Another kiss, this time to Frank’s cheek. He knew he should say no. His mind was screaming for him to push Gerard away before this went too far. He opened his mouth, every fiber of his being demanding him to say ‘no’. “Yes,” he whispered, turning his face to meet Gerard’s.

Their lips slid together and Gerard cupped Frank’s jaw, tilting his head up. Gerard tugged softly on Frank’s bottom lip, hearing a low whine before releasing it. He kissed Frank once more before pulling away. “Come,” he whispered. “To my bed chamber.”

Gerard stood, grabbing Frank’s hand and helping his to his feet. They walked out of the library, turning left and down to the end of the hall. Gerard opened the door to the room Frank had woken up in, letting the younger walk in first.

The door was closed, key clicking when Gerard locked it. He wrapped his arms around Frank’s waist, holding him from behind. “If you want to stop, just say so,” he whispered. “I will not force you into this.”

Frank nodded. He felt Gerard unbutton his shirt, pulling it out from his trousers. He turned in Gerard’s arms, sliding his arms around his neck and pulling him in for a kiss. All of this felt familiar to Frank, but he was sure he had never had sex before.

Gerard tugged Frank’s shirts up, pulling away just long enough to slip them both over Frank’s head and drop them to the floor. He leaned back in, licking and biting at Frank’s lips, making him open his mouth. Walking Frank backwards to the bed, Gerard unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off. He pulled back again and yanked off his undershirt, tossing it to the floor.

Frank was pushed back onto the bed, covers bunching under his back as he moved up when Gerard crawled on top of him. He connected their lips again, tugging Gerard down to meet him. He slipped a leg in between Gerard’s, thigh pressing against his erection and making him groan into Frank’s mouth.

He whined when Gerard grasped his hair, tugging his head back and kissing his neck. Gerard released his hair and sat up on his knees, hands sliding down Frank’s chest.

“You’ve gotten stronger since last time,” he smirked, fingers skimming over his hips. He popped the top button on Frank’s pants, working his way down.

“Last time? We’ve done this before, haven’t we?” Frank asked, relaxing his body under Gerard’s skillful fingers.

Gerard hummed and leaned down, kissing Frank’s stomach. He dipped his tongue into Frank’s navel and the younger squirmed. “Lift your hips,” he said, sitting up again and straddling Frank.

Frank nodded, pressing his feet into the bed and lifting his ass up. His trousers were removed, along with his underpants. Both were tossed to the floor and Gerard slid between his legs, fingers trailing up the inside of Frank’s thighs. Frank shifted, suddenly nervous about being nude.

“Shh,” Gerard cooed, placing his hands on the bed next to Frank’s head. “No need to be nervous.” He kissed Frank then sat up again and unbuttoned his pants, removing them.

Leaning over Frank, Gerard reached for the nightstand, opening the drawer and pulling out a small jar. He set it in front of the kerosene lamp, which had been lit no doubt by Cecilia, and let the heat soften the gel inside.

“Gerard?” Frank asked, voice soft and nervous. Gerard hummed, moving to suck on Frank’s neck. “Mmhn-how, um, how are you going to ‘feed’ from me?”

Gerard stopped, propping himself up on his elbows. “I’d rather not tell you,” he said, kissing Frank’s lips once. “I do not wish to scare you.”

Frank nodded, biting his lip.

“Are you frightened?” Gerard asked, stroking Frank’s cheek, the stubble rough under his fingers.

“N-no,” Frank lied. He wrapped his arms around Gerard’s neck, pulling him down but the older remained still. “A-a little.”

“Try not to think of it,” Gerard said. “Try to think only of the pleasure.”

Frank nodded again, smiling when Gerard kissed him.

Gerard pulled away once again. “Turn around,” he purred, sitting back on his heels. Frank sat up and turned, facing the headboard. He looked over his shoulder, feeling foolish when Gerard lifted him to his knees, pressing up close behind him. He reached into the jar and scooped out a small amount of softened gel. “Lean forward. Just grab the headboard,” he said, kissing Frank’s shoulder.

The younger nodded, grasping the thick wood gently. Warm fingers slid over his ass and he gasped.

Gerard pressed his middle finger in and Frank tensed slightly. He slipped two more fingers in quickly, hearing Frank hiss softly, back arching away from him.

“Are you alright?” he asked, gently stretching Frank.

He got a whimper in response. Frank’s knuckles were turning white and his back tensed. “Y-yeah, I’m fine,” he said, relaxing and loosening his grip.

“Okay. I’m going to remove my fingers now,” Gerard said and Frank nodded.

He winced and sighed when they left his body. Frank watched Gerard reach for the jar again, coating his fingers thoroughly.

Gerard slicked his cock and shuffled forward on his knees.

Frank’s body was still a little tense when he pressed in. He whined, trying to move away from the pain and Gerard grabbed his hip. He held him still as he slid in fully, hips flush with Frank’s ass.

“Let go of the bed,” Gerard groaned, mouth sliding up Frank’s neck. “Bend over, Frankie.” His right hand slid up Frank’s back, resting between his shoulder blades.

Frank took a deep breath, cringing and groaning out as he walked his hands down the headboard. He leaned down, forearms on the bed and head resting on a pillow.

“Ready?” Gerard asked. Frank nodded and he traced his hand down the younger’s back and over to his hip. “Okay,” he murmured and leaned down. Kissing Frank’s back, he pushed himself back up and pulled out an inch before sliding back in.

Frank whined softly underneath him, legs shaking as he continued his thrusts.

Gerard picked up his pace, hearing Frank’s groans become little pants and mewls as he clenched at the sheets. He slipped his hands around Frank’s waist, leaning down slightly before pulling Frank up with him.

He yelped, muscles clenching around Gerard’s cock and back pressing to his chest. “F-fuck, Gerard,” he mewled, gripping Gerard’s left hand. He moved it to his chest, over his heart, and rested his head on his shoulder.

“What do you want, Frank?” Gerard purred, nipping at his ear. He rolled his hips up and Frank whimpered. “Do you want me to touch you?”

Frank swallowed and whined, grabbing Gerard’s neck with his right hand. “Please?” he begged, turning his head towards him. “Please?”

Gerard smiled, kissing Frank, his right hand moving to Frank’s cock. His fingers traced through the coarse hair, sliding down and wrapping around his shaft. He gave a gentle squeeze, thumbing the slit and Frank moaned.

His body shook, hips jerking forward with each of Gerard’s thrusts. Gerard’s hand was still slick from the gel, making the slide perfect. Frank tried to communicate this to the older but it came out as a series of whimpers and moans, most of which were lost in Gerard’s mouth as they kissed. Frank’s hips bucked forward again and he moaned deep in his throat.

He was close and Gerard knew it. He twisted his hand, giving Frank just the right amount of friction and felt his thighs shake. His moans soon became short gasps, like he could not get enough air in his lungs. Gerard nuzzled his face into Frank’s neck, scraping his teeth across the skin.

Frank arched his back, neck stretching and nails scratching at Gerard’s neck as he came hot on Gerard’s hand. A sharp pain filled his body, seeping away into pleasure as Gerard sucked on his neck. His hips had stilled, hand stroking Frank through his climax until he started to become oversensitive.

Gerard licked at the wound, cleaning it of blood. He hadn’t used his toxin on Frank. Not at the moment, at least. Frank whimpered in his arms and he let the younger lay on the bed, ass still in the air.

He mewled at Gerard’s every thrust, his prostate still being stimulated.

It wasn’t long before Gerard himself was coming, leaning down over Frank’s sweaty body and panting. He pulled out, Frank whining softly as his body was set down on the covers. Gerard kissed his lower back before climbing off the bed. “I’ll only be a moment,” he said when Frank rolled to his side and gave him a puzzled look.

He walked to the large dresser, poured water into the basin on top and grabbed a small cloth. He wet the cloth, wrung it out and wiped his face and cock off, drying them with a small hand towel.

Frank watched as he wet the cloth once more, wringing it and bringing both cloths over to the bed. He climbed back on, rolling Frank over to his back and slipping between Frank’s legs, wiping the cloth over his now soft cock.

“This might feel, um, unusual, I guess,” Gerard said, a small grimace on his face.

Frank flinched but nodded and Gerard lifted one of his thighs, cleaning him before tossing the cloth to the ground. It landed near a door and Gerard dried Frank off, tossing that towel away too.

He moved off Frank, to the other side of the bed and pulled the covers down, crawling underneath them. “Are you not going to join me?” he asked when Frank remained still.

Frank hummed, eyes feeling as heavy as his body. Gerard helped him under the covers, holding him close and kissing his forehead. He wrapped his arms loosely around Gerard’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss.

Gerard went willingly, kissing Frank gently before biting his lip, injecting his toxin. Frank groaned, licking his lip when he pulled away. He opened his mouth to speak only to have Gerard shush him. “Sleep now, Frank,” he said, threading his fingers through the younger’s hair.

His eyes were sad and Frank stroked his cheek, hand falling to the bed shortly after starting.

Frank’s vision went fuzzy and his head felt like it was filled with a dense fluff, weighing him down. His eyes slipped closed and he fell asleep as Gerard watched him.

Gerard remained on the bed for a few moments longer, watching Frank sleep. His face was relaxed, the stubble dark on his cheeks but he still looked as young as he remembered. Even if it had been three years since he last seen him. He took in the younger’s features, imprinting them to memory.

The way his eyes always appeared heavy lidded, the small indent near his right eyebrow, the mole on his cheek. He stroked Frank’s jaw, following the curve with his fingertips and down to his supple neck and defined collarbone.

He sighed, kissing Frank’s forehead once more and crawled out of bed again. Stretching, he grabbed his thick robe, shrugged it on and walked out of the room with one last glance at the sleeping man. He looked over at James and Cecilia, giving them a nod.

Gerard caught Cecilia’s arm when she passed by. She stopped and peered up at him, biting her lip. “Don’t,” he said, giving her a glare.

“Yes, sir,” Cecilia mumbled, bowing her head.

Gerard released her arm and walked towards the library, stopping at the top of the stairs where Robert stood. “Frank is staying with the Iero’s on the east side of town,” he said to the blonde man. “Be sure you’re not seen when returning him.”

Robert nodded, “Yes, sir. You know me. I’m as quiet as a cat.”

Gerard smiled and opened the door to the library, heading inside and taking his place back on the couch. Michael would wake soon, if he was not already awake. He would be going out to feed next week. Gerard often wondered why his brother did not bring his meals to the house so he could feed in the comfort of his own home. But it did not matter.

They had been feeding in their own ways since 347 BC and he knew Michael would not change his habits so quickly.

With a sigh, Gerard turned and lied down on the sofa, head on a throw pillow, and picked up his book. A familiar scene flitted through his memory, one full of blood and screams and death. He shivered, closing his eyes.

The door opened with a soft creak and Gerard sat up, setting his book aside.

Michael strode over to the sofa opposite him, curling up with the book he had in hand. “Is he gone?”

Gerard nodded. Frank should be in the carriage on his way home by now.

“Good,” Michael said. Gerard sighed, resting his elbows on his knees as he leant forward. “What’s wrong?” his brother asked, exasperated.

“I-nothing,” Gerard said, looking over to the fire. It was still roaring, telling him James had tended to it while he was with Frank.

Michael frowned, closed his book and sat up on the sofa, watching his brother. “Tell me.”

Gerard was silent, biting at his nails.

“Now,” Michael demanded, making his brother jump.

“Um, I was just remembering the night we were turned into these, these monsters,” Gerard confessed. He did not look up at his sibling, preferring to continue his assault on his nails.

Michael sighed, removing his glasses and rubbing his eyes. “Why are you thinking about that? You know it only depresses you more,” he said, shaking his head.

“I know,” Gerard said softly. He frowned, standing abruptly. “I’m going to bed.”

“But the sun has only just set,” Michael said, watching him move to the door.

Gerard did not reply to him, only opened the door and exited the library. “Master Way, Mr. Iero is on his way home,” James said, bowing slightly. Gerard nodded, continuing to his bedroom. He smiled when he saw his sheets had not been changed.

“Oh, Master Gerard, I was just about to replace your bed clothes,” Cecilia said, walking in behind him, her arms full with linen sheets.

“No!” he shouted and the young woman jumped, almost dropping the sheets. “Um,” he blushed. “Th-the bed is fine. It does not need to be changed yet.” He turned Cecilia around, hands on her back and ushered her to the door. “It will be fine for the night,” he said, giving her a weak smile. “Please, it is fine.”

Cecilia nodded slowly, a knowing smile on her round face. “Of course, sir. I’ll just be off to tend to Master Michael’s room.” She left the room, closing the door with a soft click.

Gerard frowned at the door. He did not like the look she gave him. He just wanted to sleep. It had nothing to do with Frank’s scent still lingering on the sheets. Nothing at all.

He moved to the bed, still unmade, and removed his robe, tossing it to the bottom of the cover. He crawled between the sheets and wrapped his arms around the pillow. The one Frank’s head had lain upon not even a half hour ago. Gerard smiled, inhaling the scent of sweat and sex. He could still hear the sounds Frank had made, feel the way his body opened up for him, and taste his life blood on his tongue.

Closing his eyes, Gerard soon drifted off to sleep.

Heavy foot falls woke Gerard from his dream. He sat up quickly, looking around the room he shared with his younger brother. Michael was still sound asleep in his bed, unaware of the intruder in their small house.

Gerard slipped out of bed, the cool air making him shiver as he crept to the door. Peeking into the main room, he saw no one. The moon was high and bright, casting dark shadows on the walls when he opened the door.

“C'è nessuno?” he called out, walking around the small room. He frowned when silence answered him. Maybe he had dreamt the noise?

He heard the creak of a bed and a whimper when he turned back to the door.

“Michael?” he said, walking into the room. His brother was no longer in bed. He stood in the corner of the room, shadows hiding most of his body. “Michael? Ti senti bene?” he asked, moving closer to his brother.

Michael let out a whimper and Gerard froze. The shadow of a tall man stood behind his brother, hand around his throat.

“Chi sei tu? Stai lontano da mio fratello!” Gerard shouted, baring his teeth.

“Non avrei minacciato un vampiro se fossi stato in te, ragazzo,” a voice spoke, breath warm on the back of Gerard’s neck.

He turned his head, peering over his shoulder at the man behind him when a hand gripped his shoulder, forcing his back to the wall. He groaned, clenching his eyes shut for a second before squinting at his assailant.

The man was around Gerard’s height, light blonde hair cut short and face smooth. He looked young, even younger than Michael.

Gerard blinked at the man, scowling when he grinned at him. The man was strong, forearm pressed firm over his collarbone. Gerard looked over to his brother, seeing the fear in his eyes and something clicked.

“Tu,” he whispered. “Loro due sono gli assassini! Quelli che hanno assassinato gli abitanti del villaggio!” His voice rose with his anger.

The other man chuckled, “Sì, lo siamo. Ed erano deliziosi.”

Michael whimpered again, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Gerard,” he whispered, voice weak and shaky.

Gerard grabbed the blonde man’s arm, attempting to pry it from his chest but it stayed firm. The man smiled and leaned close, teeth elongated and shining in the moon light. He was going to die. Michael was going to die. They were going to die and there wasn’t a thing Gerard could do. Except-

“Trasformateci,” Gerard said. He heard his brother gasp and the man halted, mouth hovering just over Gerard’s neck.

“Trasformarvi?” he asked, moving away. There was a smirk on his face when he looked to his partner. They seemed to have some sort of unspoken conversation and the blonde man grinned, turning back to Gerard. “Sarà doloroso,” he said calmly. “Peggio di qualsiasi dolore possiate immaginare. Siete pronti per questo?”

Gerard swallowed, looking to his brother. Michael was terrified but he gave a short nod, biting his lip. “Si,” he said, seeing the man grin again before he jerked forward, teeth sinking into Gerard’s neck.

He heard a scream. His own scream. And Michael was screaming, too. It was ringing in his ears, almost drowning out the words echoing through his head.

They lied! You fool! They lied to you and now they are going to kill both of you! You have failed!

His vision swam and his body fell limp as the screams ceased. An arm caught him, setting him on the ground. “Drink this,” a voice said. A warm, thick liquid filled Gerard’s mouth and he spluttered, choking on the metallic taste. He heard Michael coughing softly across the room and a voice soothed him. “Drink now,” the first voice said to him again, forcing something soft in his mouth. The liquid flooded over his tongue, taste changing as he swallowed.

Gerard grabbed the item, feeling the man’s arm under his fingers as he drank. The arm was yanked away roughly and Gerard’s head jerked back, knocking off the wall and making him wince. He looked up at the man, squinting in the dark.

When did it get so dark? It was like the moon fell from the sky and the stars died out. The darkness enveloped him for what seemed like eons. Or was it mere seconds?

The pain came next. Piercing, blinding pain. Gerard felt like his body was on fire one second and in frozen water the next. It felt like blades were slicing at every inch of his skin. He could not breathe and could not see, but he could hear his own screams. They were almost too loud to be his own but he knew his voice. He did not know how long the pain lasted. It felt like he was being tortured endlessly, body being ripped apart and sewn back together only to be torn to pieces again.

Gerard jumped, sitting up straight in bed. He panted heavily, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees as he shivered. His skin was slick with a cold sweat, leaving the sheets underneath his bare body damp and sticking to him. Pulling his knees to his chest, he wrapped his arms around them and sighed.

He hated remembering that night. If he had known then what he knew now, he never would have said yes. The life of an immortal vampire was a long and lonely life. Even if he did have his brother with him.

He wanted something else. Someone else.

He gazed to the large windows, seeing the curtains opened wide and the clouds drifting across the sky. With a huff, he crawled out of bed, shivering slightly as he pulled his robe on and walked to the window.

The sky was dark, moon and stars hidden behind the thick clouds. Gerard threw open the window, resting his hands on the sill and leaning out into the cold winter night. Some houses in town still had lights in the windows and the lighthouse shined over the sea.

All the scents of the village wafted over to the manor, one scent standing out among them.

Frank.

Why couldn’t Gerard get that man out of his mind? He’s just a human, nothing more. He meant nothing to Gerard. His life blood may have tasted sweeter than any other human but that alone should not have Gerard so hung up on him.

Robert’s scent travelled up to Gerard’s nose, the unique wolfish smell always lingering on his person no matter how often he bathed. The scent was weak, telling Gerard that the man was already inside.

Gerard closed the window and strode over to the door, leaving the room. He walked down the stairs, seeing Robert exit the kitchen. “Robert, there is something I would like for you to do for me,” he said, crossing his arms loosely over his chest.

“Yes, sir?” Robert nodded.

“I would like for you to keep an eye on Frank Iero, inform me of his whereabouts and when he intends to leave for England,” Gerard said, shifting his weight to his right side.

Robert nodded, a small smile on his face.

“And do not let him know you are tracking him, or anyone else, for that matter. Especially Michael.” Gerard glanced upstairs before turning back to the blonde. “You do not need to track him at all hours, just-just,”

“Don’t worry, sir,” Robert said. “I know what you mean. It’ll be between you and me only.”

Gerard smiled, “Thank you, old friend.”

~

“Francis, wake up. It is late,” Frank’s grandmother, Mona, said, shaking his shoulder. “Francis!”

Frank groaned and peeked out from under his cover. “Nonna? What time is it?” he groaned, sitting up and scrubbing his face with his hands.

“Late, Francis Anthony. Late,” she said, frowning. “Now get up and help your grandfather.” She turned walking to the door as Frank stretched and climbed out of bed. His back twinged and popped and he groaned. Mona stopped just outside the door, looking back to Frank. “Where were you? You did not come home the night before last. I thought I was going to have to write a letter to your parents telling them we lost you only two days after you arrived,” she said, pinning her eagle eyes on Frank.

“Oh, I, uh, I was-I got really drunk,” Frank replied, face red. He turned away, washing his face in the basin. “A friend found me at the bar and he took me to his place where I slept it off?” he said, thinking she wouldn’t believe him.

Mona frowned, arms crossed over her chest. “I did not know you knew anyone in Sorrento. Who is your friend?” she enquired.

Frank’s heart skipped a beat. Would she know Gerard? He did say he was from Sorrento so maybe. He drew out the time before answering, tugging his slacks on and buttoning them. “His name is Gerard Way,” he said, not looking at Mona. He grabbed his shirt, buttoning it up and looking around for his socks.

“Way? I think I have heard of them. Old family, very old. I did not know any Ways were left in town,” she mused, scrunching her mouth up. “This Gerard, he took care of you, si?”

“Yes, Nonna,” Frank said. His lower back twinged again when he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his socks on. His face turned pink again, remembering what Gerard and he had done the night before. He looked up, seeing Mona walking away. He knew his grandparents would never approve of what he did. And even if they did, he still never wanted them to know.

“Affrettati a, Francis. Tuo nonno è in attesa!” Mona shouted from the front room.

“Yes, Nonna.” Frank slipped on his waistcoat and shoes, making his way to the front room.

Mona set a plate with his breakfast on the heavy, scrubbed table and Frank sat down, eating quickly. Frank’s grandfather walked inside, thick jacket making his stocky body appear even bigger. “Francis, we are late,” he said, quirking an eyebrow at the younger man.

“I know. I’m sorry, Poppa.” Frank bowed his head, ashamed of sleeping so late, even if he was sore. “I’m almost ready,” he said, finishing his breakfast.

His grandfather nodded, “I will be outside.”

Frank took his empty plate to the sink, having it taken from his hands by Mona who shooed him away. “Dress warm, Francis.”

He smiled, kissing her cheek and went to the front door. Slipping his scarf and coat on, he grabbed his gloves out of the pockets and opened the door, exiting the small house.

The sun was just rising over the horizon, turning the sky pale pink and white before fading into blue. Frank hurried over to his grandfather, who was sitting on the cart with his tools and supplies. He was a handyman by trade and, while Frank was staying with them, he would be helping his grandfather at work.

Frank hopped up next to him, wincing slightly as sparks of pain shot up his back. He held on to the side when Francesco snapped the reins and the horse started the trek to their first job.

~

Gerard curled up on the plush armchair, book resting on his knees. It was one of his favorites, Frankenstein; or, The Modern Prometheus. He had bought both a first and second edition of the novel when they had been released. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. Images flashed behind his eyelids, taking him back to that day.

”You need to feed every two weeks, minimum,” Ezekiel said, dark skin blending in with the shadows.

Gerard nodded, sitting close to his brother. “Okay,” he said softly, watching a candle flame dance.

Erik snickered behind his hand, “Of course, we feed much more often than that. At least every three days, right, Zeke?”

Ezekiel smirked.

~

Michael looked up from his spot on the bed, Gerard sleeping behind him. A whimper came from the other side of the door and he pushed himself up. The door swung open, revealing Erik and Ezekiel along with two young women in binds.

“E 'ora di cena,” Erik said, a wicked grin on his face.

Gerard groaned and rubbed his face. “Cosa? Cena?” he mumbled, looking up at the people entering the room. Michael looked to him, shaking and eyes scared and he understood. The young women would be dinner.

“Cazzo,” Michael whispered, shrinking back, closer to his brother.

Erik pushed one of the ladies, a girl no older than sixteen years of age with olive skin and black hair, farther into the room.

The older girl shrieked and tried to run forward, stopping short when her binds were yanked. “No! Non la mia sorellina, assassino!” she cried. “Per favore! Prendete me al suo posto! Vi prego!”

“Il tuo momento verrà, ragazza,” Ezekiel sneered, holding her tight.

Michael shook his head and clung to Gerard’s shirt. Erik brought the trembling girl over to him, snickering when she cried. “Mangia, Michael. Hai bisogno della tua forza se vuoi diventare un vampiro forte come me e Zeke,” he said, shoving her towards the young man.

Michael shook his head again, burying his face in his brother’s arm. “No! Non posso!” he whimpered.

Gerard wrapped his arm around Michael, petting his shoulder. “Shh, it’s okay, brother,” he whispered into his hair. “I’ll do it,” he said, standing up.

“No!” Michael pleaded, grabbing Gerard’s arm and holding fast. “Don’t kill her!”

“I won’t,” Gerard said softly. He walked forward, towards the shaking girl only to have her snatched away. He frowned when Ezekiel smirked at him, bringing the older girl over.

“The young one is for your brother,” he said. “This one is for you. Good luck with the whole not killing her thing.” He snickered and shoved the girl into Gerard’s arms.

Gerard glared at the older man and held the girl gently. “I don’t mean to hurt you and I promise you and your sister will get home safely,” he said softly.

“Demon,” she spat. “Vile creature!”

Gerard frowned before he let out a sigh. He was a demon and nothing more. Him and Michael both. And he made them this way. The girl was silent as he leaned close, pressing his mouth to her neck.

Something in his blood took over, forcing his fangs out and biting her neck harshly. She screamed. The life blood was so sweet, flowing over his tongue and down his throat. He heard the higher pitch yelp of her sister and opened his eyes.

Michael was feeding.

His eyes slipped closed and he held the girl tightly, feeling her body weaken. Gerard could just feel her heartbeat on his tongue, slowing as she fell limp.

Stop! Gerard! Stop now! His brain screamed but his body ignored his instincts, choosing to quench his thirst.

Gerard whined as he was yanked away from the girl, Ezekiel holding her body momentarily before letting it fall to the wood floor with a heavy thud. He blinked, watching her limp form, willing her to move. He could still taste her sweet life blood as his body shook.

He killed her. He said he wouldn’t and he did. He couldn’t stop his body and now his promise was broken.

A second thump made him jump, looking towards his brother. The girl’s younger sister lay on the floor, unmoving, blood coating her neck and the collar of her dress.

“No,” he whispered. “No, no, no, NO!” he screamed, falling to his knees.

Erik and Ezekiel laughed above him and Michael ran to his side, hugging him tightly. “Gerard, don’t worry. I’m here,” he whispered, rubbing his back.

Gerard jerked himself awake, nearly toppling out of his chair as he grabbed his knees. His book fell to the floor, pages folding underneath it. He took deep breathes, leaning forward until his trembling ceased.

“Cazzo,” he groaned, sitting back in his chair. “Why now?” He sighed, bending down to retrieve his book, smoothing out the bent pages.

He had been keeping his past in the past, where it belonged, so why was he suddenly remembering everything now?

With a groan, Gerard closed his book and took it to his room.

~

Frank squinted down the road, watching the blonde man pick through the goods on display at the market. He’s sure he knows who the man is, but no name jumped to mind. He frowned when the man paid for his items and turned away.

He’d seen him earlier in the week, too. Was he following Frank? Or maybe it was just his imagination.

He had been thinking of Gerard, as well. He missed him, even if they’d only met twice. He’d often think of the night they’d spent together, longing to see him again.

But if his family ever found out, they would disown him. Throw him out of the family; possibly even have him imprisoned for sodomy.

Frank shuddered.

“Francis, get your head out of the clouds and pay attention,” his grandfather scolded.

“Yes, Poppa,” he said, flushing with embarrassment. He turned his attention to his work, doing everything to keep his mind off the dark haired man.

~

”Michael, Michael, wake up,” Gerard whispered, shaking his brother’s arm.

“Wha-Gerard, what-?”

“Shh-“ Gerard warned, clapping his hand over Michael’s mouth. “We need to get out of here.”

Michael frowned, sitting up in the bed. Gerard was fully dressed, crouching by the bedside. “What do you mean, we need to get out of here?” he asked, casting a nervous glance to the door. He didn’t know if Erik and Ezekiel were back from feeding yet and he feared the consequences if they heard what Gerard was saying.

“I mean, if we don’t leave, we’ll kill more innocent people,” Gerard said. His voice was shaking and his eyes were scared. It had been three days since they first fed and the death of the two girls had hit Gerard hard. Michael nodded and Gerard stood quickly, grabbing his clothes. “Get dressed, we don’t have much time before they return.”

Gerard shook his head, brushing the hair out of his eyes as he rubbed them.

“Gerard, are you okay?” Michael asked, placing a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Gerard smiled, “I’m fine. Is Robert here?”

Michael nodded. “He just got back from town,” he said. “Why?”

“I need to see him about something,” Gerard said distractedly.

His brother frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “About what?” he enquired, eyes narrowed.

Gerard turned away, waving a hand. “Nothing of import. Just a small personal matter.”

“You’re having him spy on that Iero guy, aren’t you?” he accused, moving to stand in front of Gerard.

“I-what? No!” Gerard stammered, eyes wide. “Why would I have him spy on Frank?”

“Why would you get so flushed if it’s not true?” Michael retorted.

Gerard pinched his lips together, face burning bright. He turned and stormed off to his room, slamming the door. “Fucking Michael, thinks he knows it all,” he grumbled, moving to the window and yanking it open. The sea breeze hit his face and he took a deep breath, taking in the scents of the town.

Frank’s was particularly strong today; sweat mixing in with his usual smell of dirt and flour. Even if he had not been home in over a year, the scent still clung to his person. It had faded over the three years since they first met, but it was still there.

There was a rap at his door and he called out. “Enter.”

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Robert’s voice echoed slightly and Gerard turned to face him.

“Yes. Do you have any news?” he asked, moving to sit in the armchair to his left. He motioned for Robert to join him.

Robert nodded and sat in the chair opposite. “I do,” he said and Gerard nodded. “Frank’s been working with his grandfather every day save for the Sabbath. He has seemed distracted as of late and I believe he still remembers you.”

Gerard's nod stopped short. “He-what? What makes you think this?”

“He gets a particular look in his eye when he becomes distracted, almost as if he’s remembering a lost love,” Robert said, small smile on his lips.

“But, that’s impossible,” Gerard frowned. He folded his hands together and rested his elbows on his knees, leaning forward. “I injected him with more than enough toxin to wipe his memory clean of me.”

Robert shrugged, “Maybe he’s immune?”

“No,” Gerard shook his head. “Humans cannot be immune to the toxin.” They sat in silence for a moment, Robert, tapping his fingers on his thighs and Gerard thinking. “But-“ he started and Robert’s ears perked up. “I have heard some humans can have a resistance to it, and it can wear off after time. It’s supposedly very rare though.”

“How rare?” Robert asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“Well, in my years, I have never met someone with a resistance to the toxin,” Gerard said softly.

Robert hummed, watching Gerard.

“Thank you, friend,” he finally said, smiling. “Any idea when he will be returning to England?”

“He has no plans to return as of yet,” Robert replied, standing when Gerard nodded.

“That will be all then. Thank you again, Robert,” he said and Robert left the room, closing the door softly.

Gerard stood, moving back to the window and resting his hands on the sill. But… is he resistant? he thought, smiling when he caught Frank’s scent. Or is it me? Am I just getting weaker? No. No one else has remembered me. Just Frank.

~

Frank watched the blonde man. He appeared to be sitting on a stone bench, reading a book but Frank knew better. He knew the man was watching him, and had been for the last two weeks. He was Gerard’s carriage driver.

But why was he watching Frank?

He didn’t know but he was determined to find out. Frank strode over to the man, standing with his hand on his hips and a frown on his face. “Why are you following me?” he demanded. “Did Gerard put you up to this?”

The man gawked, lowering his book. “I-what? I’m not following you,” he said. “I’m merely enjoying the lovely weather we’re having whilst reading a book.”

“Don’t lie to me,” Frank bristled, clenching his hands. “You’ve been following me for a fortnight and I want to know why!”

The man stood and closed his book with a snap. He was much taller than Frank, and had much more muscle, but Frank did not back down. He looked down to the smaller, brow furrowed in annoyance. “I am not following you,” he said. “Good day, sir.” He turned on his heel and walked away, towards the outskirts of town.

Frank puffed out his cheeks, sighing dejectedly.

“Francis Anthony, where did you go off to?” his grandfather called to him, storming over.

“I-uh.”

“No excuses. Come help me now,” he said, grabbing Frank’s wrist. He might have been in his seventies, but the man had the strength of an oxen.

~

Thrice more that day Frank saw the blonde man whilst in town. He never caught him actually watching Frank, but he knew he was. There was no doubt about it.

He just did not know why.

~

Frank entered the bar, tugging his scarf off and placing it on a hook along with his coat.

“Ah! Frank! I was wondering if I’d see you again,” Jamia grinned, folding her arms on the counter. “What can I get for you?” she asked as he sat in front of her.

“A-um, gin, please, Signorina Jamia,” he said, smiling weakly.

“Sure thing,” she smiled, moving a few feet away and grabbing the bottle from the back shelf. She grabbed a short glass from under the counter, wiped it with her apron and filled it halfway before setting it in front of Frank.

He smiled to her, a genuine but tired smile and said, “Thank you.” He took a swig of the liquid, watching Jamia shuffle around behind the bar.

He ended up having only two drinks before calling it a night. He had hoped Gerard would show again, but Jamia said she had not seen him since the night he took Frank home.

Frank thanked her and handed over the coin for his drink. He made his way to the door, tugging on his jacket and scarf and exiting the building.

The walk home was quick, but the brisk wind bit at his ears and nose. The moon was high and waning, casting eerie shadows on the houses when the clouds crept across its surface. Frank heard a rustle from the trees and he stopped to listen.

Was that man following him again? At this time of night? It was near past one in the morning and all the street lamps had been snuffed out.

Frank pulled his jacket tighter to his body and continued on his walk home.

Gerard clung to the shadows, watching Frank as he walked along the path. This was not the first night he had followed the human himself, but most nights he usually let Robert track him.

He watched as Frank looked over his shoulder every few yards, eyes searching the darkness for his stalker. But Gerard knew he’d never spot him. He was too well hidden, too quiet; he’d been honing his skills for over two millennia.

Frank turned up the path to his grandparent’s house and Gerard moved swiftly to a better viewpoint, keeping his eye on the younger. Frank stopped once more at the front door to the dwelling, looking around. He let out a sigh and unlocked the door, slipping quietly inside.

Gerard waited a few moments more, seeing if Frank would leave the house again, but the dim light in the front bedroom was quickly snuffed out. He frowned and made his way back to the manor, slipping in through the front door and trying to make his way upstairs unnoticed.

“You’re back late,” Michael commented when he passed by the front reception room.

He faltered, growling softly before ascending the stairs to his bedroom.

“Well, someone is in a bad mood,” Michael hummed to himself.

~

Michael bit his thumb, gnawing on the skin around the nail. He didn’t even stop when blood dripped down the digit. All he cared about was his brother. And right now, Gerard was starving and near death.

They had escaped from their makers, travelled to Greece and hid in a small town far from the sea. It had been seven months since they fled and Gerard refused to feed. He insisted he would be fine with human food. But he wasn’t.

His body was shutting down. His skin was the color of a dull and greying alabaster. The dark circles under his eyes seemed permanently stained to his skin.

“Please, brother,” Michael pleaded. “You must feed. You’ll die if you do not.”

Gerard merely shook his head, eyes unfocused.

“But, I can teach you to stop. I can stand by you and stop you when you’ve had enough,” Michael said. “We can each feed every other two weeks. T-that way one of us is there for the other in case… in case something goes wrong.”

“No,” Gerard replied. His voice broke and he coughed making his brother wince. “I will not become a monster.”

“If you do not kill, then you will not become a monster,” Michael reasoned. “I have learned to feed and not kill. The human is always returned home, safe and with no memory of me.”

“Always?” Gerard asked, coughing behind his hand.

Michael shrugged, “Well, only they have a home or a family. I-um, ones that have no one or no place to live I just. I mean-it’s better for them than dying a slow and painful death, isn’t it?” He searched Gerard’s face, seeing a dissatisfied look in his eyes. “I’m sorry, brother, but they were dying as it was, I just quickened it and made it more peaceful for them. I don’t always kill them. Most humans I feed from do live and I never go for them again. But please, you must feed! I do not want to lose you!”

Gerard coughed again, breath rattling in his chest. “No,” he said again, closing his eyes. Michael frowned and left the room. He’d make sure his brother did not die; he’d find a way to get him to feed. But how? He could just go into the village and charm someone, preferably one who was homeless and alone as a precaution, but there was no guarantee that Gerard would even look at the human, let alone feed from him.

He sighed and left the small building they resided in, making his way the two miles to the village. He’d have to risk his plan and pray that it works.

He found his target quickly. The young man was sleeping outside, back to a building and thin cover draped over his shoulders. Michael worked his charm, lowering his eyes and walking forward before crouching in front of him. “Hello,” he said softly, rousing the man. “I can offer you a warm place to sleep, if you wish, and a meal.” His eyes glowed a soft gold as the man nodded, getting to his feet. Michael steadied him, feeling his thin arms and frail shoulders through his clothing.

They made the journey back to his house, the man swaying on his feet slightly and Michael steadying him every so often. He remained in a daze as Michael watched him, never lifting his charm. He lead him inside and to the bedroom, where Gerard lay, weak and pale.

Michael strode to the bedside, touching Gerard on the shoulder. “Gerard, I’ve brought you something,” he said.

Gerard turned, frowning when he saw the young man. “Michael, what have you done?”

“Nothing, I’ve only charmed him. He is unharmed,” he whispered, glancing over to the man. “I-I was hoping you could feed from him? I’ll stop you well before he’s in any danger. But please, you must feed.”

“No,” Gerard stated. “I refuse to harm a human.”

“They heal quickly, Gerard. Please. I’ve checked on the ones I’ve fed from and they are all healthy. Just please,” he begged.

Gerard watched the young man by the door. His eyes were heavy lidded and dull from the charm. His skin and clothing were filthy and his hair was covered in dirt and devil only knows what else. He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “Feed him first and clean his neck. I will not risk him dying from any means,” he said finally and Michael smiled.

Gerard awoke in the early morning, tendrils of sunlight peeking through the thick curtains. Another dream, he thought. Why must they haunt me so?

He rested his forearm on his forehead, letting out a deep breath and closing his eyes again.

Michael had helped him learn to feed without harming humans and he had been eternally grateful. He remembered that night, feeding from the young man and feeling immensely stronger. Michael stopped him well before he wanted to stop and he had growled at his brother, who only smiled softly. After that initial feeding, he started to feed regularly, every two weeks, one week after Michael himself had fed. Gerard had regained his strength and then some and they left Greece after one year had passed.

Gerard breathed in deeply, taking in the scents of his room and rolling over in bed, hugging his pillow to his face. It was early and he could do with more rest.

~

“Francis Anthony, time to wake up,” Mona called, peeking her head into his room.

Frank was half dressed, tucking his shirts into his pants. “Yes, Nonna, I’ll be out in a moment,” he said, watching her nod and close the door. He pulled on his waistcoat and tied his shoes, before walking over to the dresser and cleaning his face and hands.

He dried them on the small towel and headed out to the main room where Mona was setting plates on the table. Francesco was already sat at the table, waiting for his wife and grandson to join him.

Mona sat across from him and Frank sat between them as they ate their breakfast in relative silence.

The sun was strong and the sky was bright when Frank followed Francesco out to the cart. He loaded the cart while his grandfather led the horse out of the shed, hitching him to the cart and patting his neck.

Frank hopped up on the seat, taking hold of the reins and waiting for Francesco to climb up before handing them over.

Francesco smiled, adjusted his jacket and snapped the leather.

~

Gerard strode to the library, searching for a new book to read. He’d read everything in the library at least a dozen times and he wished he could browse the local bookstore for something new. Maybe they’d move to Roma in a few weeks, he’d have more luck finding a place open after sunset there.

He passed by the few papyrus scrolls in his collection, something he had borrowed from his time in Alexandria before Caesar accidently burned the library down. Michael and he moved from the city not long after and Gerard never got the chance to return the scrolls. They were one of Homer’s tales, and something he had more copies of in book form.

He sighed, running his fingers across the spines of the books, feeling the softness of the old leather and the coarse fabric of the newer books. He pulled one out at random and read the title. The Amber Witch, not one of his favorites, but it would keep him occupied for the time being.

Curling up on the sofa, Gerard opened the book and read the first line only to have it snatched from his hand. “Hey! Michael, I was reading that!” he shouted, sitting up and glaring at his brother.

“You’ve been having Robert spy on that human for you,” he stated, crossing his arms and holding the book under his arm. “And he remembered who you are and still does, according to Robert.”

Gerard bit his lip and looked away. He wrung his hands together and hunched his shoulders as Michael yelled at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me? This is dangerous, Gerard! Humans are not supposed to remember us after a feeding. Have you not been using your toxin?”

“I have,” Gerard mumbled, bringing his hand to his mouth and worrying the skin around his thumb. He glanced up, seeing Michael stare down at him, waiting for an explanation. “I don’t know why he remembers me, okay? He just does.”

“But how?” Michael asked and Gerard shrugged. “Gerard!” he raised his voice and Gerard shrunk down.

“I don’t know, Michael, okay? I just don’t know how he remembers me, but he does and there’s nothing we can do about it!” he shouts, standing abruptly.

Michael was taken aback from the outburst and Gerard stormed out of the room. He rushed to his bedroom, slamming and locking the door before going over to the window. He shoved it open, letting the cool breeze hit his face before he fell to his knees, arms folded over the sill and head down.

I just don’t know, he sighed, peeking over his forearms and looking at the town.

The lights from the street lamps flickered softly in their glass homes and the scent of food was strong in the air. But he could still pinpoint Frank’s scent and it infuriated him.

Why?! What is it about this human? What the devil makes him so special? Why can’t I just forget about him, his taste, his smell, his touch?

Gerard growled to himself, grabbing his hair and screaming as loud as he could. He ignored the banging on his door, the dogs barking in the distance. He just wanted to forget about Frank Iero. He wanted to forget about the way the human made him feel, the thoughts that plagued him at night, the memories that tormented him as he slept.

He never dreamt about his past before, not until he fed from Frank that second time. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe it was because of Frank. There must have been something in his lifeblood. Something different.

He felt arms wrap around him from behind and tugging him away from the window, a voice yelling orders, but he ignored them, lashing out and shrieking. He scratched and bit at Michael, feeling blood fill his mouth before he spit it to the floor.

There was a sharp blow to his head, the voices in the room grew faint and everything went black.

~

“Gerard,” Michael whispered, voice shaking. He grabbed at his brother’s arm, clinging tightly when the howling grew louder. “Gerard, what is that?!”

Gerard’s eyes scanned the forest, looking for the source of the noise but the dense foliage just made the wood even darker.

The cracking of twigs and leaves made the two men jump, turning to face their adversary. He was a heavy built man with shoulder length blonde hair and a full beard that covered most of his facial features. He wore dark colored clothing of what appeared to be animal skins. He carried no weapon but the gleam in his eyes told the two men he did not need weapons to inflict damage.

“What’s this?” he grinned, cracking his knuckles. “Two humans in my wood? This is too good to be true. I was getting rather hungry as of late and was playing with the idea of stealing one of the villagers for a meal. But now, it appears I don’t have to.”

Gerard shook his head and Michael’s eyes widened. “D-did he say-?” Michael’s voice broke off and he hid behind his brother, never relinquishing his grip.

“We-we’re not humans,” Gerard whimpered, watching the man stalk closer.

“Not humans, you say? How curious. You look like humans,” he paused, sniffing at the air, “and you smell like humans. So, clearly, you must be humans.”

“We’re vampires,” Gerard stated, straightening his back slightly.

The man bristled, “Vampires know not to come into my wood.” He walked around the two, Gerard turning with him and keeping his brother out of his line of sight. “They know what happens when they come into my wood.”

Gerard gulped. He could guess what happened to the others who tread in this forest.

“It’s so hard to get a good meal these days. Humans are all scared of us, locking their doors tightly at night, setting traps for us. They’ve even gone so far as to lock their animals up at night,” he said, eyes narrowing at Gerard. “Though I prefer a human’s heart to that of a sheep.” A malicious grin spread across his face, sending a chill through Gerard’s spine. “A vampire’s heart is not unwelcome either.”

“What if we bring you a human?” Michael asked, peering over his brother’s shoulder. The man cocked his head, eyebrows raised. “W-would you let us go i-if we brought you a human, um, from the village?”

“Michael? What are you doing?” Gerard gaped, feeling Michael’s fingers dig deeper into his arm.

The man hummed to himself. “I may,” he said slowly and Gerard looked back at him.

“Promise us!” Michael demanded.

The man frowned, nose scrunching up as he growled, “Fine. I promise to let you two go free if, and only if, you bring me a human to feed from.” Gerard and Michael smiled to themselves before he spoke again. “And you only have until sunrise.”

Gerard stirred in his sleep, groaning softly and whining. Michael wiped the sweat from his brow and grimaced. Gerard had never acted this way before. Never lashed out at his brother. He remembered the sickening blow that Robert gave him, knocking him unconscious instantly, but it was the only thing they could do. They did not know what Gerard would have done if he had remained awake.

He figured it had to do with that human. The one Gerard was so interested in. Gerard whimpered again and Michael came to a decision.

They would leave Italy as soon as it was possible. He needed to get his brother away from that human. Maybe they could go to America. Yes. America, it is. I shall have James charter us a ship and we will set sail as soon as our belongings are on board, he thought, brushing the hair off Gerard’s forehead.

They had fled as soon as the blonde man took the human. Running quickly through the woods, away from the human’s cries. Gerard never let go of Michael’s hand as they dodged trees roots and stumps, making their way away from the village and the wolf.

They found a small cave behind a waterfall and crawled in, slipping on the algae. The sun was just beginning to peek over the trees and the two crawled further into the cave, keeping their bodies out of the light. Gerard held his brother tight, feeling Michael shake in his arms. They were exhausted but they were alive and together.

In the near two hundred years since they escaped from their makers, they had never left each other for fear that they would lose each other.

Gerard felt Michael’s breath slow and even out and he smiled, petting his hair. He sighed, whispering into Michael’s hair, “We need to find a place of our own. Make money to live off of, buy all the things we’ve ever wanted. All the books we’ve ever wanted.” He smiled, body drifting off to sleep. “That would be nice.”

~

“Well, well, well,” a soft voice cooed. Gerard’s eyes flew open as he felt a foot nudging his hip and Michael tensing in his arms. The blonde wolf was smirking over them, blocking their only exit. “Seems the two vampires never left my wood,” he said, crouching down to eye level. “Now, what do you suppose I should do about that?”

Gerard clung tighter to Michael, feeling the younger tremble. “We-we’re sorry. We thought we left your wood! I swear it!” he exclaimed, trying his best to hold his fear in.

The man considered him for a moment, tapping his fingers on his bearded face. “How about we make a deal?” he said and Gerard flinched.

“What kind of deal?” he enquired. He sized the man up, wondering if he could take him down, make a break for it with Michael. He braced himself when the man took a breath.

“You provide me with humans,” he started and Gerard’s stomach bottomed out, “and I provide you two with protection. It’s a win-win situation.”

“Except for the humans,” Gerard muttered. Michael shook his head violently when he looked down, eyes pleading with him to not take the deal. “What kind of protection?”

The man smiled, “Oh, you know. The usual. Tracking, hunting, fighting. Because, no offense, but you two don’t look like the type who could win a fight.”

Gerard growled, holding his brother protectively. “We’re plenty capable of winning a fight,” he glared and Michael nodded.

“If you say so,” the man said vacantly. “But, if you had me on your team, so to speak, you’d be unstoppable.”

Michael gave the wolf a wary eye, moving to whisper into his brother’s ear. “We shouldn’t trust him. He’s a werewolf and he’d turn on us at a moment’s notice.”

The wolf chuckled. “A werewolf is bound to his promise until both parties see fit to null and void the contract,” he said, placing a hand over his heart.

Michael hissed at him and Gerard pursed his lips. “Give us a moment alone to talk it over,” Gerard said and Michael gasped.

“Very well, I shall be just outside,” the man said, standing and turning on his heel. He slipped out from the side of the waterfall and his frame was visible through the water in the fading evening light.

“No, Gerard,” Michael whined. “We cannot trust him. What if he brings more wolves to kill us in the daylight hours?”

“We should at least test him. I can stay awake during the day and watch him,” Gerard reasoned. “If he cannot be trusted, we kill him. But, if he’s true to his word, then he would be a great asset to our wellbeing.”

Michael bit his lip, gnawing on it gently. “I don’t know. I guess that could work.”

“So, are we going to give him a chance?” he asked and Michael hesitated before nodding once. Gerard nodded back and took a deep breath. “You there! Wolf!” he called.

The man came back into the cave, crouching down. “You called?”

“We’ve decided to give you a chance, but you must promise to not let any harm come to my brother or myself. Understood?”

“Understood,” he said, easy smile on his face and thrusting out his hand. “Robert Bryar, at your service.”

Gerard grasped it cautiously, saying, “Gerard Way. And this is my younger brother, Michael.”

“A pleasure,” Robert said, shaking Michael’s hand.

~

Gerard groaned, rubbing his sore face. His eye throbbed lightly to the touch. With a look around his room, he saw he was quite alone. He slid out of bed, moving to the window and peeking through the curtains. The sun had just set, the sky a pinkish-purple that faded into navy. How long was I out for? he wondered, running his fingers through his hair. He walked to the dresser, washing his face and neck.

After changing out of his dirty clothes, he crept out of his room, listening for his brother. He heard him speaking in the main hall and pressed himself against the wall to listen.

“…as possible would be best. I don’t like seeing Gerard like this. That human is doing something to him and I must get him away,” Michael said.

“But America is so far away,” James replied. “And are you sure he’d agree with your plan?”

America? What? Gerard frowned, listening again.

“I don’t care. This is for his own sanity. He cannot see that human again,” Michael said. “Just charter a ship as soon as you can.”

Gerard’s mind went blank, white noise filling his ears at the words. I cannot see Frank again? Ever? No! Michael cannot do that! he fumed, turning and quickly rushing back into his room. The door clicked shut and he ran to the window, throwing it open and stepping out onto the small ledge. The wind bit at his skin as he jumped, crouching when he hit the ground and running towards Frank’s scent.

He darted from shadow to shadow, searching for the young man. His scent was weak but it flowed all over town, seemingly strongest at the bar.

He pushed the heavy door open, looking around at the patrons. Jamia greeted him warmly when he walked forward. Frank was nowhere to be seen.

“Well, Gerard, hello! What can I do for you, dear?” she asked, bright smile on her face.

“Um, Frank Iero,” he said, shifting uncomfortably. “Has he been in here today?”

Jamia nodded, “Yes, he left here I’d say nigh one hour ago. He was rather upset, by the look of him.”

“Upset? Why? Did he say?” Gerard asked.

“Oh yes! He said he was leaving for Castellammare, to start on his journey back to England. Shame, too,” she sighed. “He was a cute one-I mean, I appreciated his patronage.” Her face flushed brightly and she hid behind her hand.

Gerard felt his heart stop. Leaving? Shit! “Thank you, Jamia,” he said quickly, kissing her hand and hurrying out the door.

Castellammare? That’s about two hours away and Frank has an hour’s head start. Shit, I need to hurry, Gerard fretted. He dashed to the closest home with a stable, rushing inside quietly. The three horses watched him, ears back and hooves stamping into the soft dirt. What if I don’t make it to Castellammare in time and Frank’s already on the train to Naples? What if he doesn’t want to see me?

He moved towards the closest horse, a tan mare, and patted her neck, cooing gently. The horse relaxed, nudging into his hand. Gerard led her to the stable doors, opening them quietly and walking her out before closing the stable back. “Don’t worry. I will return you to your home,” he whispered.

Gerard mounted the mare with ease, hands on the sides of her neck as she started to trot towards the road heading east. He ushered her into a gallop, hoping, praying that he wasn’t too late to stop Frank.

~

“Take care on your journey home, Francis,” Francesco said, hugging his grandson.

Frank smiled, patting his back. “I will, Poppa.” They pulled away and Francesco adjusted Frank’s hat. “And you have a safe journey back too,” he said.

Francesco nodded as they said their goodbyes. He walked over to his cart, climbing up and snapping the reins.

Frank watched him for a few moments, until the darkness swallowed him and all that was left was the small lantern on the cart. He took a deep breath, letting it out slowly and turned around, walking over to his trunk. The train to Naples wasn’t due for another twenty minutes, according to the schedule posted up next to the ticket window.

He sat down heavily on the trunk, grunting softly and leaning back against the wall. There was a light breeze in the air and he was relieved to be dressed warmly when it bit at his ears. He sighed and closed his eyes.

Frank didn’t know how long had slept for but the sound of a horse galloping up awoke him. He blinked, rubbing his bleary eyes and looked around. A dark haired man slid off a tan horse and strode quickly into the light of the train station.

“G-gerard?” he gaped, eyes wide. He stood as Gerard walked over to him, wondering what the older was doing there and how he found out Frank was leaving. “How did you-“ he started, Gerard cutting him off.

“I had to see you,” Gerard said quickly, reaching out for Frank’s hand. He grasped it gently, their fingers sliding together. “I’m sorry. Michael found out that you-you do something to me and he is going to take me away to America, but I just had to see you one last time. T-to ask you something,” he said, voice trailing off. He looked down, watching as Frank’s fingers tilted his chin up.

“What did you need to ask of me?” he asked, eyes scanning over Gerard’s features. They stopped, widening when he started to focus on his right eye. “Gerard? What happened?” he asked, lightly touching the swelling skin. “Did someone strike you?”

Gerard frowned, turning his face. “I-I was having a fit and Robert, he sort of, um.” He bit his lip, thinking of how to phrase his sentence. Frank’s fingers were gentle on his skin, tracing over the bruise, and he leaned into the touch. “Stay with me? Forever?” he whispered, looking Frank in the eye.

“But- two men? It’s wrong, Gerard,” Frank answered, tightening his fingers around Gerard’s. “W-we can’t. And you said your brother does not approve of me.”

“Michael does not control my life,” Gerard spat, cupping Frank’s face with both hands. “And I want you in my life.”

Frank flushed, feeling the heat rush down his face to his chest. “But-“

“Please,” Gerard said, resting his forehead on Frank’s. “Say you’ll stay with me forever? If you do not wish to, I will leave you, never to bother you again,” Gerard whispered.

“What do you mean by forever?” he asked, heart beating rapidly in his chest. His breath mingled with Gerard’s and he fought the urge to close the gap between their lips.

Gerard closed his eyes for a moment, speaking softly. “I am a vampire, cursed to live an immortal life.” He paused, opening his eyes, expecting to see fear in Frank’s eyes. He was surprised to see curiosity and even a little excitement. Frank didn’t speak; only waited for Gerard to continue. “My brother and I were, turned, in the year 374 BC. By two vampires who were plaguing our village. The village of Sorrento. They murdered countless souls and had planned to murder us as well.”

Frank gasped, hands flying up to hold Gerard’s wrists.

“I asked them to change us, so that we might be spared. We had fled from them not long after, taking up residence in Greece where my brother and I lived for just over one year before leaving the country to a new one. We travelled all of Europe and even to northern Africa in our time,” he said.

“And your makers? Have you seen them since?” Frank asked and Gerard shook his head. Frank took a breath, swallowing before speaking again. “A-and have you ever, um, killed anyone?”

“Once, but it was not my intention. It was my first feeding and I was not in control of my instincts yet,” he replied and Frank nodded.

“Okay,” he said softly, closing his eyes.

Gerard frowned, his brow furrowing. “Okay?” he asked and Frank opened his eyes.

“Okay, I’ll stay with you,” Frank answered and Gerard felt his heart swell. He surged forward, capturing Frank’s lips in a soft kiss. “Will you turn me?” Frank asked against his lips and he nodded. “Will is hurt?”

“More than you can imagine,” he said, grimacing as he remembered the pain.

Frank nodded to himself, sliding his hands up Gerard’s arms to his shoulders. “What about my family?”

Gerard sighed, voice soft and full of regret. “They will be told that you died in an accident and your body was never recovered,” he said. “They cannot know about what you will become.”

“I understand,” Frank said. He looked down, fighting back his tears. He’d never see his family again. But people have been known to die while abroad. It’s not unheard of.

Gerard tipped his head up, kissing him lightly. “I won’t do this if you don’t want it,” he said.

“I do want this. I want to be with you,” Frank said. “I-I think I might be i-in love with you,” he flushed, looking away.

“Frank,” Gerard whispered, catching his face and turning it back, kissing him. “I am in love with you. I know it.” He kissed Frank once more, hearing the younger whimper softly. When he pulled away, he caught a scent in the air and he stiffened. Michael and Robert!

They were close, perhaps ten minutes away. He needed to turn Frank now before his brother tries to stop him.

“Is something the matter?” Frank asked.

“Michael. He’s coming,” Gerard replied, looking back at Frank. “I must turn you now, before he arrives and stops me.”

Frank nodded quickly and he was led over to his trunk where he sat with Gerard next to him.

Gerard opened his jacket, removing his scarf and pulling the fabric away from his neck. “You must obey my every instruction. I’m sorry, this will hurt much more than normal,” he said and Frank tensed. Gerard pressed his mouth to Frank’s neck, licking at his jugular and feeling the blood rush. He placed one hand on the opposite side of Frank’s neck, the other gripping his waist as he bit into the flesh.

Frank whimpered, hands grabbing roughly at Gerard’s shirt sleeves. His blood flowed quickly into Gerard’s mouth and he felt his body grow weak. “Hnn- Gerard…” Gerard held fast, sucking on the wound in his neck as his vision faded. White noise filled his ears followed by Gerard’s voice, faint and tinny.

He heard the words ‘drink this’ as something warm was pressed to his mouth, a metallic liquid flooding passed his lips. Frank lapped greedily at the substance, feeling Gerard’s fingers carding through his hair.

“You’ll be asleep soon and then the pain comes,” Gerard said softly. He pulled his arm away from Frank, who whined but did not try to get it back. He held Frank close, resting his chin on Frank’s head as he passed out.

A light appeared in the distance, growing brighter until Gerard could make out the carriage with Robert sitting up front. He pulled the reins and the horse came to a stop not fifteen feet from him and Michael jumped out.

“Gerard! What in the name of God do you think you are doing?!” he shouted, running up the steps towards him. He stopped when he saw Frank, unconscious in Gerard’s arms. “What-what did you do?” he asked, eyes darting between the two.

“I turned him,” Gerard said softly, looking down at Frank. His face contorted with pain for a few seconds before relaxing again.

“Y-you turned him?” Michael stammered. “Why?!”

Robert walked up behind Michael, arms crossed over his chest and Gerard swallowed the lump in his throat. “I-I love him.”

Michael froze, mouth falling open and eyes wide, focusing on Gerard. “Is that why he had such an effect on you?” he asked softly, walking closer. Gerard nodded, thumb running over the back of Frank’s neck as he grimaced again. Michael watched his brother for a few moments, silently working things through in his head. “We need to get him back to the manor and prepare someone for his first meal,” he finally said, nodding to Robert.

Gerard glanced up at him. Michael was still upset, but he knew he could not leave Frank in his current state. He lifted Frank into his arms, his head resting against Gerard’s collar as he carried him to the carriage.

Robert grabbed his trunk, lifting it with ease and sliding it on top of the carriage, strapping it down tightly. He called the mare over to him, patting her nose softly before taking out the spare harness and hitching her to the carriage. Michael followed Gerard to the carriage, climbing in after him and shutting the door with a soft click. “You didn’t even bother to dress properly when you left the manor,” he tutted, sitting across from his brother.

Gerard ignored his comment, choosing to focus on Frank. He held him close, placing his hand on Frank’s chest and feeling his erratic heartbeat. His breath became shallow as the carriage started down the road, back towards Sorrento. “How long do you think he will be out for?” he asked.

Michael shrugged. “I’m not sure. Could be a few hours, could be a few days.”

Frank whined in his sleep, hands tightening into fists and relaxing again.

The remainder of the ride home was quiet, save for Frank’s whimpers.

~

“Robert will be taking the mare you stole home,” Michael said when they stepped inside the manor. James greeted them with a bow and took Michael’s coat from him, hanging it on the rack.

Gerard was unabashed, merely nodding and heading for the main hall.

“Master Way, should I take Mr. Iero’s coat and hat?” James asked, following him into the hall.

“No, I can bring them down later,” Gerard replied, seeing Michael frown. “I would like some warm water brought up to my room though. Thank you.”

James nodded, turning towards the kitchen.

Michael watched Gerard ascend the staircase before he walked into the drawing room.

~

Michael stood on the dock, thick umbrella in hand as he waited in the queue for the steamship. There were four people in front of him, a family with two small girls. He smiled, tipping his hat when they both looked back at him and giggled. They were ushered on board and the man smiled to Michael, holding his hand out. Michael handed over the envelope, admiring the ship in front of him as the man opened the envelope, removing the tickets. He stamped them, placed them back in the envelope and returned it to Michael.

“Enjoy your journey, sir,” he smiled and nodded.

“Thank you,” Michael said, nodding back. “We will.” He started up the ramp, hearing an excited squeal from behind him.

“Oh my word! Gerard! First class on a steamship to America! I can’t believe it!” Frank grinned, holding his umbrella tightly. The sun was hidden behind thick clouds but still dangerous for their skin. “It’s like a dream come true!”

Gerard chuckled, pushing Frank along ahead of him. Robert followed along behind Gerard, umbrella unnecessary for his skin.

Their luggage had been stowed on board, most with the rest of the passengers but their essentials were in their rooms. Michael had opted to share a two bed room with Robert while Gerard and Frank had a room with a queen bed just for them.

They stepped on board, quickly finding the inside hallway and closing their umbrellas as they searched for their rooms. They found them, across the hall from each other. Gerard unlocked the door to his room and Frank gaped at the size. He ran inside and dove to the bed, hugging a pillow and hissing at the sun's rays coming through the window.

Robert walked over and closed the thick curtains while Gerard looked around. “We’ll see you at dinner. Try to get some rest,” Michael called into the room and Gerard nodded.

The door closed and Gerard walked over, turning the lock. When he looked to the bed, he saw Frank had already fallen asleep. He smiled and moved to the bed, removing Frank’s shoes as well as his own before lying back on a pillow.

America. I wonder if we’ll like it there?