Chapter Text
Frank curled up on one of the couches, tucking his feet under him, and only feeling slightly guilty about putting the bottoms of his shoes on the fabric. He pushed his straight black hair behind his ears, pulled his hood over his head, and took his phone from his pocket.
He felt a smile creeping onto his face when he turned it on--his background picture. He had been trying to take a serious picture, but his boyfriend, Gerard, had jumped in and stuck his tongue out, laughing.
Bringing the cup to his mouth, he took a sip, and immediately regretted it. The paper cup may have been only warm, but the coffee inside was scalding. He swallowed it, his throat burning, and set the cup on the table next to him.
He looked up from his phone, setting his gaze on the door to the coffee shop. It had been their favorite place to go together since high school, and Gerard was never late. Tonight, though, he was already almost a half an hour late. Frank had sent him at least ten texts, and tried to call him twice with no answer.
It wasn’t normal for Gerard to be late to one of their coffee shop dates, but he was never late to anything in general. He was usually very punctual. It wasn’t like him to not be on time.
Frank glanced down at his phone, reading his texts, almost praying that he would get a notification with a text from Gerard saying that he was on his way.
Sent at 8:07: where r u?
Sent at 8:19: gee?
Sent at 8:21: srsly gerard where r u???
Sent at 8:23: ur making me worry gee just freaking txt me back
He sighed quietly to himself. He hoped that Gerard was okay. It also usually wasn’t like him to not text back within five minutes.
Frank tried a sip of his coffee again--it was cooler now. He stared at the black screen, willing it to light up.
“Please?” he muttered to himself, but it stayed dark. “Fuck,” he mumbled after a minute.
‘gerard arthur way where the hell r u?’ he typed, his fingers shaking slightly. After a minute, the text was sent, and right next to it, in small letters, said, “Delivered.” All the other texts said, “Delivered”, too. ‘He didn’t read any of them,’ Frank thought, deflating slightly.
Just then, the door swung open, and Gerard walked in, his hair damp from the mist outside, which they usually didn’t receive in their small New Jersey town.
Frank stood up abruptly, about to tell him off, but then realized the state that he was in--his black hair was tangled and messy, his clothes were slightly disheveled, he was out of breath, and was that… blood on his face?
His face went pale, and his hands started to shake again. He waited until Gerard had sat down next to him, and then, like an overprotective mother, began his bombard of questions.
“Why haven’t you answered any of my texts? Why didn’t you answer my calls? Where the hell have you been? Is that blood--” Frank stopped mid sentence when he realized that Gerard hadn’t spoken once, that he was looking down at his shoes.
“Gee?” he said a little more softly, and this time, Gerard looked up. Now that he was closer, Frank could see that his eyes were bloodshot, and looked a little wet.
Frank gently put his hand on his boyfriend’s knee--Gerard was already tense, and he didn’t want to freak him out any more than he was. He rubbed his thumb back and forth carefully, making sure to get the spots where his skin was exposed from the rip in his jeans. Skin-on-skin contact usually always calmed him down, no matter what the situation was.
“Gee?” he repeated. “What happened?” He continued to speak quietly, so as not to startle Gerard more than he already was.
He pulled away from his touch abruptly. “Nothing,” he said, and his voice sounded awfully high. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Frank frowned. Something was definitely up with Gerard, though he hadn’t the vaguest idea what it was. When he acted like this, he blocked everyone out, making himself unreadable. He usually just needed to be left alone to get everything out, get over whatever had made him angry or upset. But Frank was almost positive that this time was much different--and because of that, he had no idea how to react.
“You’re not acting like it’s nothing,” he whispered, reaching his hand up and gingerly brushing his fingers against Gerard’s cheek. “You can tell me, Gee. You know you can tell me anything, right?”
He nodded. “Yeah, I just… bad day. Really shitty day.” He tried to smile convincingly, but Frank could see past the tight smile. He knew something was wrong. He also knew that Gerard wouldn’t feel better unless he got it out of his system.
Frank leaned his chin on Gerard’s shoulder. “You sure you’re okay? D’you just wanna go back to my place and watch a movie? We can watch Blade Runner.”
Blade Runner was one of Gerard’s favorite movies, though Frank couldn’t stand it--he thought it was boring and weird. They only watched it together when Gerard was feeling like this, and on his birthday. If that was the case, then Frank was usually willing to deal with it.
“N-no, we don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he muttered shyly, acting a lot more introverted than he normally did around Frank.
“S’up to you,” he answered, sitting up. He desperately wished that he knew what was wrong with Gerard--Frank hated it when he was upset, and couldn’t do anything about it. He didn’t like feeling useless.
Gerard shrugged, and for some reason, Frank felt himself getting angry. He swallowed his anger, though, and said, “You sure you don’t want to talk?”
He shook his head, and in doing so, saw outside the window. Something out there upset him, because his eyes widened. “Shit,” he muttered, pushing Frank off of him, standing up, and running out.
Frank stared at the door for a moment, shocked by what had just happened. He glanced at the girl by the register, who gave him a look that basically said, “Your problem, dude.”
He stood up, slightly annoyed that he wouldn’t be able to finish his coffee, and walked out. He glanced around--nobody was out, and there was nothing odd about the setting. The only thing that could’ve possibly freaked Gerard out was the full moon.
‘Maybe Gerard is a werewolf,’ he thought bitterly, and then laughed at the idea. That’s ridiculous. Werewolves weren’t real. Nor were vampires, witches, and zombies.
Frank peered around the deserted street once again, checking to make sure that the street was empty, that Gerard wasn’t there. He pulled his phone out of the pocket of his hoodie, his fingers fumbling as he typed in his password and called Gerard. This time, though, unlike before, he picked up, rather quickly.
“I’m fine, Frank,” was the first thing that Gerard said when he picked up.
Frank began walking down the street, heading to his crappy, one-story house that he spent his college fund on. “If you’re so fine, then why did you run out like that?”
Gerard didn’t answer for a moment. “Frankie, I-”
“Just tell me what’s going on, Gee,” he interrupted, agitated. “Something’s definitely fucking wrong. You usually don’t act like this, even when something does happen.”
Gerard sighed. “I told you, Frank. I just had a bad day. That’s all.”
“What happened to make your day so bad?” Frank hissed, annoyed.
He didn’t reply, and after a moment, Frank heard sniffling noises on the other end.
“Gerard, I’m sorry, I-I didn’t mean to make you cry,” he said, almost breaking down at the thought of his boyfriend crying.
“I-it wasn’t you, Frankie,” he sobbed. “It was m-me.”
“I- Wait, what?” Frank asked, evidently confused.
“I-I’d tell you what’s wrong, b-but you w-wouldn’t…”
“I wouldn’t what?” he said cautiously, almost afraid of the answer.
“You wouldn’t love me anymore!” Gerard exclaimed finally. He gasped quietly, realizing that it had come out. “Shit,” he muttered, and hung up.
Frank stared at the dropped call screen in bewilderment. Why had Gerard said that? Did he actually think that anything would make Frank not love him anymore? Frank loved Gerard more than anyone; he would do anything for him.
‘What if he’s cheating?’ he thought suddenly, hating himself for him. Gerard wouldn’t do that. If he thought that they should start seeing other people, he would tell him, right? He already felt sick to his stomach; having such a nervous stomach meant sudden thoughts could cause major pain, even though nothing was wrong.
Frank blinked away the tears in his eyes and opened his messaging app, texting Gerard: ‘gee u know that nothing in the world would make me love u any less. it cant rlly be that bad, so y cant u just tell me?’
Gerard responded almost immediately: ‘frank theres things u havent thought of bc u wouldnt believe me if i told u. i swear on my life that im not cheating on u’
Another text came less than a minute later: ‘i love u’
He typed: ‘gerard i love u too’, and sent it. He was about to start another text when his phone started to ring.
Frank picked up, holding the phone to his ear and waiting for Gerard to speak first.
“F-Frankie?” Gerard stuttered, and Frank could imagine him biting his lip and curling a few strands of his thin black hair around his finger.
“What is it, Gerard?” he asked softly, turning the corner and walking down the block of his house. “What’s wrong?”
Frank heard him hiccup quietly before answering. “Y-you have to promise that y-you’ll believe me. I-I’m not lying.”
Frank said nothing, fumbling with his set of keys, trying to find the right one to his house. He found the right one, slid it into the lock, pushed the door open, and walked in. He slammed the door behind him, not caring enough to lock it. He kicked his shoes off. “I’ll believe you,” he said finally.
The only sound on the other end of the line was Gerard taking a deep breath, probably trying to calm himself down before speaking again. “I-I’m a v-vampire,” he heard him murmur.
Frank couldn’t help but let a bitter laugh escape his mouth. “You’re kidding, right?”
Sobs erupted from the phone. “I-I t-told you that y-you wouldn’t b-believe me,” he cried.
“No, Gerard, don’t… don’t cry, I’m sorry, I-” He stood in his kitchen dumbfounded, his mouth moving, but no words coming out. “Come over,” he said bluntly when he regained his voice.
“W-what?” Gerard sobbed. “Why?”
Frank sighed, angry, frustrated, and confused all at the same time. “Because… Because we need to talk about this, Gee. I don’t know if you’re telling the truth, or lying, or mental-”
“I’m not mental!” Gerard cut in fiercely. He seemed to have calmed down a great deal by then. “And I’m not lying,” he added softer.
“Okay, you’re not lying,” Frank said, only to satisfy Gerard. “But I still want you to-”
He was interrupted by a deafening shriek of pain, followed by a loud, “Fuck!”
There was silence for a few moments. And then he heard, “I’ll be there in fifteen.” The call dropped.
Frank put his phone face down on the counter, and then rested his elbows on it. He put his head in his hands, breathing out deeply and trying to comprehend what the hell just happened.
If Gerard was telling the truth, if he wasn’t lying… then that meant everything Frank thought he knew about the world might have been false as well. If vampires were real, what about werewolves? And zombies? Was the Boogeyman real, too?
Why did Gerard think his being a vampire would affect how much Frank cared about him? Was that why he tried to keep it a secret? Frank knew that that was the most probable reason. How long had he been hiding it from him?
But what if Gerard actually was mental, like Frank thought? He would still love him, as it hadn’t affected their relationship before. Why wouldn’t he have told him, though?
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Instead of fifteen minutes, like Gerard had said, he had taken almost a half an hour to get to Frank’s house. He didn’t bother asking why, though, because he was worried enough as it was.
The two were sitting at Frank’s dining room table, a mug of coffee in Gerard’s hand and nothing in Frank’s, as his fingers were drumming against the table anxiously. They had said nothing since he arrived; all they had done was exchange glances and occasionally a hand squeeze.
Finally, Frank said, “Gee, are you serious?” His hand trembling, he reached across the table and took Gerard’s free hand in his own, intertwining their fingers.
He stared at their hands for a moment, and then at Frank. He picked up the mug and took a long sip, most likely trying to stall answering the question he had just been asked. After a while, he said, “Yeah, I-I wouldn’t lie about this and make such a big deal of it. That’s retarded.”
Even though Frank agreed with that, he didn’t say so. Instead, he said, “I’m sorry for laughing at you.” He looked down at his lap, avoiding Gerard’s gaze. He was trying to hide the blush that was creeping onto his face.
Gerard squeezed Frank’s hand. “It’s okay,” he assured him. “It sounds ridiculous. If the roles were reversed, I don’t think I would believe you, either.”
Frank let go of Gerard’s hand, smiling at him tightly.
All of a sudden, Gerard’s hand flew to his mouth. He darted up from the seat and ran down the hall into the bathroom. Frank barely had the time to ask him what was wrong.
He stood up, about to follow him, when he saw the drops of blood on the floor. His face paled and his eyes widened. ¨Gerard?¨ he called.
Frank got no answer. He walked to the bathroom, twisting the doorknob gently. The door was locked.
¨Gee?¨ he said softly. ¨Gee, let me in.¨
¨No!¨ Gerard shouted fiercely from the other side of the door.
¨Let me in,¨ he said, more firmly. His heart pounded in his chest, his head throbbing. ¨Now.¨
¨F-fine,¨ was all he heard, and the door swung open.
Frank’s jaw dropped in surprise; Gerard’s entire mouth and neck were covered in blood. The dark liquid was on his shirt, too. There were white, slender fangs down the side of his mouth.
He wasn’t fucking lying.
¨Y-you still love me, r-right?¨ Gerard stuttered, staring down at his shoes and knotting his fingers together.
¨Of course,¨ Frank said, gaping up at him, even though Gerard was only a few inches taller. ¨Always.¨