As Gerard opened the door to his house, he said, "After you."
Frank snickered. "You're inviting me inside?"
That made Gerard laugh, shy and just a little on the edge of dorky. Frank had heard it a couple times during their beer-n-blood dates, and he wasn't sick of it yet...and not just because Gerard also flashed his fangs. Frank's dick always took interest in his fangs, sure, but his laugh was also nearly as ridiculous as Frank's, and that was hard to find.
Still, Frank shivered as he stepped past Gerard and inside. Three dates was apparently Gerard's take-home level, and if fangs came into play, so much the better.
The inside of Gerard's house was creepy, but not in a Transylvania style. Frank didn't find Dracula particularly creepy, anyway. The house was the kind of creepy where someone bought too many weird dolls and expected you to live with them. Frank swallowed as he passed by a particularly dusty shelf. He couldn't imagine eating dinner with those around, waiting to pounce.
"Hey. I'm Mikey."
Frank nearly jumped out of his skin. A guy was sitting on the couch in front of the flickering TV. He was slim and pale and looked generally unimpressed by Frank, which was fair, considering Frank had been too busy side–eying the decorations to notice a fucking bloodsucker.
As Frank tried to remember how to breathe, Mikey's eyes narrowed and grew blacker. Right. Vampire.
"Fuck." Frank wheezed as he inhaled. He still wasn't entirely over his last cold. Finally, he managed a ridiculous wave and to say, "I'm Frank."
"I know." Mikey looked over Frank's shoulder. "Have fun?"
Frank turned just in time to see Gerard grin closemouthed and fond at Mikey. "Totally. Mom home?"
"Nah, she's out getting bags for dinner."
Frank blinked – a vampire family? - but Gerard spoke up before he could really give it any thought.
"We'll be downstairs," he said.
"I figured." Mikey turned back to the TV. "Just don't get blood on the stairs. Mom blamed me last time."
Gerard laced his fingers with Frank's. It wasn't the first time they'd held hands, but Frank still wasn't used to how cold and clammy Gerard's skin was. Or the strength he could imagine even when Gerard squeezed very, very gently.
He followed Gerard down into a basement of contained chaos. A lot of bloodsuckers thought undeath meant turning into Robert Smith, but not Gerard. Even though the piles of his clothes lying around the room were mostly black, it was like a smellier version of Frank's room, really. At least the piles were neat, like Gerard had shoved them aside for company.
Frank stared at the floor while Gerard turned on a desk lamp. Would Gerard want him to run? There wasn't much room for that. A straight–up tackle would probably be easier. Gerard could pin him down and make Frank take his fangs, sharp and fierce in his neck-
"You okay, Frankie?"
Frank nodded and looked up. Gerard's eyes were almost entirely black, and not the way a turned–on human's got. Even the whites were dark. It made his stare look deep and endless.
As Frank stared – and suddenly understood the psychic vampire cliché in all the movies, holy shit – Gerard stepped forward and brushed his thumb over the pulse in Frank's neck. Frank bared his neck to give him better access, letting his eyelids flutter shut.
"Are you scared?" Gerard whispered, his chilled breath raising goosebumps on Frank's neck.
The answer was actually yes – that was kind of the point – but he shook his head.
Frank lowered his head, frowning. Gerard had pulled back enough to meet his gaze, and then he nodded toward Frank's neck.
"Uh." Maybe he was just clearing it with Frank before he really tore in. It wasn't always great to go to work with a healing neck wound, but Frank was between jobs, so it didn't matter. "Go for it."
Gerard leaned in, and Frank clenched his teeth. Fuck, this was going to be fucking amazing. It was all he could do to keep still and not press in.
...except Gerard pulled back and frowned. "Sorry, forgot your tattoo was on this side."
Before Frank could do more than blink, Gerard moved toward the other side and kissed Frank's neck. It was disappointing, sure, but it wasn't bad. His skin tingled a little where Gerard's lips worked. It made some kind of sense. Maybe it would feel even better if Gerard lulled him into a false sense of security. Relaxed him before really sinking in.
...except Gerard pulled back again with red lips and a grin on his face. He licked away the blood – blood! When Frank barely felt a goddamned thing! – and said, "Fuck, you taste amazing."
Frank touched his fingers to his neck. There was barely any wound to feel. He'd gotten worse paper cuts.
Still, his gaze dropped to Gerard's tight jeans. The snack at the bar and drinking from Frank had apparently been enough to give Gerard a boner. He could work with this.
Frank lowered onto the bed, spread his legs and widened his eyes, and generally tried to look as vulnerable as possible. But he couldn't help from grinning as Gerard climbed over him, his body blocking out the light.
Gerard smiled back, and Frank's heart skipped a beat. He was so hard he was dizzy.
"And then you had great sex, the end."
Frank stuck out his lower lip. "Just because you can read my mind doesn't mean you have to be a total asshole."
Ray rolled his eyes and put down his guitar. Most of the time, Frank empathized with the guy. The whole psychic thing was part of his family's vampire hunting history, but the laws protecting the undead had passed long before either Frank or Ray were born, and so Ray didn't get to channel it into something productive. Well, except when they were fixing things in the middle of a show, and Frank didn't feel like going for the dead mic. That was handy.
But seriously. Ray always fucking ruined Frank's stories.
"Go ahead," Ray said.
Frank crossed his arms with a scowl, but he kept going. "He didn't even hold me down! He laid next to me and fucking hugged me while he gave me a handjob. I had to hold him down while I blew him so I wouldn't choke to death."
Ray blinked. "Tell me you used a condom."
"Dude. It's the middle of the day. You think I could've walked over here if I picked something up?"
Ray winced. At least Frank wouldn't have to hear the safe–sex lecture yet again. "Right. Sorry."
"So we spooned, he passed out like five seconds later, and I watched TV with his brother until dawn." Frank knocked his head on the wall behind him. "If I didn't like him so fucking much, I'd go find an actual hookup."
Ray's eyebrows disappeared into his low–hanging curls. "You like him?"
"Sure." Mikey wasn't bad, either. He had good taste in late–night TV.
"So...why don't you tell him? If it's going to happen again."
"Because!" Frank waved his hands. "He's a vampire! This shit should come naturally! Talking about it–"
"What? Ruins the magic?" Ray pinched his nose. "I don't want to hear you moping for weeks."
That was the reason Ray had suggested Frank go to a vampire club in the first place: his fantasies were getting too involved and too frequent for Ray to ignore all the time. Frank was a nice guy – sometimes – so he'd gone to see what his options were. They hadn't been great. (He did like the cleaning tips he'd learned from the humans there, though; he got blood on his stage outfits a lot.) But then he'd run into Gerard reading Doom Patrol in Starbucks, and Gerard had asked for his number, and that had just seemed a lot better than getting pinned to the wall of a nasty stall in a club. Or drained dry in some serial killer's apartment. Whichever.
"Yeah," Ray said. "It is a better idea."
Frank scowled. "Stop eavesdropping."
"Stop thinking so loud." Ray leaned forward. "Dude, I know friends who know Gerard. He'll listen if you want something."
Frank grinned despite himself. Ray had no sense of privacy, but he was good people.
Ray grinned back. "Thanks."
Frank tossed his menu toward the middle of the table. "Fuck. Is it so weird for a vegetarian to date a vampire?"
Gerard shrugged. "Is it weird for humans to eat cows? They eat grass."
"Yeah, but..." He waved a hand at the menu. "Steak. Burgers. Chicken. And one tiny salad that I can eat."
"If it makes you feel better, I can only eat one thing, too."
It didn't; Frank was being an asshole, and he knew it. There were only so many places they could go where Gerard could get blood and Frank could get food since restaurants didn't usually mix the two. Vampires usually just went to bars.
A waiter came up and took their orders before disappearing into the gloom. The darkness was purely practical – a lot of vampires had that one sensitive-eye syndrome that Frank could never remember the acronym for – but Frank liked it for the illusion of privacy it gave. It meant he wouldn't feel self-conscious about bringing up his sex life in public.
Not that he was self-conscious. He was an asshole, after all.
"So," Frank said. "Would you be opposed to holding me down and tearing into my neck?"
Gerard choked quietly. It was impressive, considering he only needed to breathe to talk and he didn't have his blood yet. "Uh. What?"
"You know. When we go home and fuck. You can run fast and pin me to the bed, really let me see those fangs..."
He trailed off as Gerard giggled nervously.
"You really want that?" Gerard asked.
"I, uh. I've never done that before."
"Isn't it instinct?"
"It is, a little." Gerard's wide eyes looked very human in the candlelight. "But I don't want to hurt you, Frankie. Or anyone, but definitely you."
Frank opened his mouth to speak, but when he saw Gerard playing with the hem of the tablecloth, face serious, Frank reached over and grabbed his hand instead.
"Hey," he said quietly. "You won't do anything I don't like. You won't take it too far."
"How do you know?"
"I trust you."
Gerard's smile returned, beaming and relaxed. He squeezed Frank's hand back, and there was a little more force than usual. Frank bit back a groan.
"You really do like that," Gerard said.
"You can tell?"
He squeezed one more time and let Frank go as the server returned. Frank shifted, making sure his boner was hidden by the tablecloth. Judging by the way Gerard's eyes were just a little darker, he wasn't fooled.
Both Mikey and Gerard's mom were out of the house when they pulled up. Gerard told Frank to go inside and wait on the couch because he had to make sure the shed in the back was locked. Or something. Frank had been too busy staring at Gerard's fully black eyes to hear it all.
The lights flickered. Frank frowned. "Gerard?"
No one answered.
Frank had just started relaxing into the couch again when something glass crashed in the kitchen. It wasn't followed by swearing or Gerard laughing or anything at all. The curtains in the living room swayed and fell still, and Frank's throat went tight.
He got up and brushed his palms on his jeans. He was a lot of things, but a fucking coward wasn't one of them.
Except he basically tiptoed to the kitchen, hands balled tight by his sides. Whatever. No one would know.
He couldn't hear if Gerard was rattling around because his heart was pounding too loudly, but as Frank rounded the corner, it didn't look like he was. There was nothing but an orange light over the stove illuminating a shattered jar on the ground, red oozing from all sides. Frank didn't need the penny taste in the air to tell him what had been inside.
"Gerard?" he said, his voice barely making it to his ears.
Frank yelled and pushed against the counter. If anyone asked in the future, he gave a total battle cry because he was always ready to take motherfuckers down. The fact that it sounded high–pitched and terrified to his ears was just a trick of the acoustics.
Gerard clicked a switch, and the kitchen filled with white light. He was holding a rag and tilting his head. "You okay?"
"I just..." Frank pointed to the ground before he shoved Gerard's shoulder. "You didn't answer me, asshole."
Gerard smiled apologetically before getting to his knees. "Sorry. Wind's knocking everything around, so I didn't hear you."
That would explain the shed and the curtains and the flickering lights, which browned out again as if on cue. But as Gerard carefully swept up the glass and blood, Frank scowled and said, "Even that?"
"It was on the counter by the door." Gerard rolled his eyes as he tossed everything in the garbage can. "Mikey always does that shit."
When Gerard turned back, his eyes were black again. "You thought I was trying to scare you, Frankie?"
Frank swallowed. "I don't know."
"You sound real scared." Gerard leaned in, ear cocked. "But don't worry. You'll see what I'm gonna do from a mile away."
That was enough. The slightly painful chill under Frank's skin softened, burned into something hotter. He sagged as Gerard brushed a hand through his hair.
"Like this," Gerard whispered, and he tightened his fingers until he had a handful of Frank's hair.
Frank's hips pushed into the air just a little as Gerard pulled his head back. Fuck, and Gerard was barely touching him.
Gerard leaned in to whisper into his ear as he loosened his fingers. "Downstairs."
He walked away, and Frank watched him fade into the darkness while his brain caught up. Gerard could've chased him, but no, Frank had to go there on his own. Willingly.
"Asshole," he whispered, but he giggled. This was awesome.
When he tripped down to Gerard's basement, Gerard was leaning against the wall. Judging from the stack of crap half–collapsed by his feet, he'd kicked stuff out of the way. A smile spread on his face as Frank came closer.
"Your heart," he said, curling his fingers lightly around Frank's shoulders. Gerard's eyelids fluttered shut. "Like a fucking symphony."
He pushed Frank against the wall, just enough to knock the breath out of him. Frank reached for Gerard, but Gerard grabbed his wrists with one hand and pushed them over Frank's head. When Frank pushed against Gerard's grip, breath coming short, Gerard dug his fingers in.
Frank groaned, and Gerard grinned. His fangs looked huge up close. "You like that?"
"Like you don't know."
Gerard palmed his cock through his jeans with his free hand. "Tell me. Ask me for it."
There was still something soft and a little worried in Gerard's face. Frank felt his own face soften a little, but he pushed his hips against Gerard's leg. He moaned and said, "Get on with it, motherfucker."
"I didn't hear a please." Gerard leaned in, nipping lightly at the skin on Frank's neck.
Gerard laughed – it sounded dorky for a second – before he bit again. There wasn't a lot of the pleasure–pain mix that Frank had thought about while he was jacking off, mostly because Gerard still wasn't giving it his all, but a shock still shot through his body. Gerard sucked with a little force, and when Frank's knees wobbled, Gerard slipped his free hand around Frank's back to hold him up.
Frank bit his lip. It tingled and did absolutely nothing to keep him from getting harder, particularly as Gerard's body put pressure against his dick.
"N...not gonna last," Frank said.
Gerard pulled back enough to meet Frank's gaze with his black eyes. Frank could feel blood trickling down his neck.
"Better get you to the bed, then," Gerard said.
He hefted Frank's legs up, and Frank wrapped them around Gerard. Gerard took a second to kiss Frank – and fuck, that was the taste of Frank's blood in his mouth – before moving them both over to the mattress.
"You taste good," Gerard said. He licked at Frank's neck as Frank loosened the button on his jeans. "So fucking good."
He lifted up long enough for Frank to kick off his jeans, and as Frank pulled him back down, Frank said, "Again."
Gerard growled – actually fucking growled – and pushed Frank's hands off him. He grabbed Frank's hips and kissed the tattoos on his stomach, and if it wasn't for the way Gerard was actually using his super vampire powers to hold him, Frank would've been bucking all over the place. Instead, Frank fisted a hand in Gerard's hair and grabbed his cock with the other.
After Gerard sucked and nibbled all the way down to Frank's thigh, he paused long enough to meet Frank's eyes. Frank slowed his hand on his cock long enough to nod back. His vision went white around the edges as Gerard sank his teeth in, cutting and painful and exactly what Frank wanted. Frank jerked his dick a couple more times as Gerard sucked hard, and then he came, messy and hard all over his stomach.
Gerard kept drinking through the aftershocks, and then, when Frank sagged, Gerard slid up to kiss him again. It was slow and sweet this time, but he dragged his fingers over the wound on Frank's leg. It was mostly healed, so the pressure didn't do much more than sting.
"How?" Frank asked.
"Hmm?" Gerard followed his gaze. "Oh, anticoagulants in my spit. And other stuff. You wanted marks?"
"Next time." Gerard nuzzled his neck. "Can you jerk me off now? So we can cuddle?"
"You and your fucking cuddling." But he laughed and stuck his hand down Gerard's jeans. Frank could be a nice guy, if he wanted to.
And okay. Maybe the cuddling was kind of nice. But no one would ever hear it from Frank.