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Frank had lost Gerard at a house party.
Which is bad, because that’s exactly what he promised he wouldn’t do.
He doesn’t exactly know the guy that well, but he’s hot, and Mikey’s older brother (?), so when they’d got in the door and the younger Way had promptly slipped off through the crowd, Frank had agreed to Gerard’s stone-faced request not to abandon him.
And yet here he is.
He’s asked a couple people already, but they’ve all said no, and Frank is too fuzzy headed to really remember what room he’s in, let alone who he’s spoken to.
It takes a little more aimless wandering before he staggers into Ray, who he estimates has a better idea on Gerard’s location.
“Toro, dude!” He says, sounding more fucked up than he thinks he really is.
“Frankie!” Ray answers with equal vigor, hands clapping down on Frank’s shoulders. He’s definitely drunk but not, like, falling over himself or anything.
“Dude,” Frank echoes. “Man. You got any idea where Gerard is?”
Ray stalls a little, apparently not expecting that question. “Uh…Way? Gerard Way?”
Frank goes to nod, and then promptly stops, because it doesn’t feel good at all.
“Last I saw he was going to the bathroom. Why?”
The bathroom, of course. He’s probably hiding in there because Frank totally forgot about him.
Somehow.
Even though he’s totally awesome and really hot.
Frank just grins and shoulders his way closer to the stairs.
“Thanks man. Love you!”
The last he hears of Ray is his astounded giggling before the music and the murmur of the crowd take over, and he’s forcing his legs to bring him up the stairs.
Fuck, he’s sweaty. Not in a bad way, just that this house is really fucking hot to combat the freezing temperatures outside.
That and all of the people in it.
Whatever.
He stumbles across what he’s pretty sure is the bathroom and drapes himself across the wood of it, taking a deep breath to steady himself.
Okay, talking. He can talk. He talks a lot, actually. Especially when he thinks Gerard might be listening.
“Hey,” Frank calls, rattling the door knob rather than knocking, surprised to find it unlocked. “Gee? You in here? I’m sorry for ditching you, man, I’ll-”
He ends up cutting himself off because the door swings open and he gets a full view of the bathroom.
Gerard is in there, as it turns out.
Along with blood. A lot of blood.
And it’s fucking everywhere.
“What the fuck?” He chokes out, and it’s all embarrassing and high pitched, but he thinks that’s perfectly fucking ignorable for the situation at hand.
Gerard is staring at him, all big-eyed like usual, stock still, and the lower half of his face slick with red.
Frank slams the door behind him and shakily places his solo cup on the counter.
“Dude,” He breathes. “Oh my fucking God, what happened? Do I- Shit, man. I’m not- I can’t take you to hospital this fucked up.”
But Gerard only shakes his head.
“I don’t need a hospital.”
His voice is weirdly even for someone who appears to have lost at least a pint of blood onto their surroundings.
And, come to think of it, he’s standing.
“...what the fuck happened?” Frank asks, feeling unsteady. His stomach feels a little off. Jesus.
It’s Gerard’s turn to start looking freaked out.
“Um. This is big. Like…a lot,” He bites his lip. “You sure you can handle it?”
Frank swallows, heart jumping. “Lay it on me.”
“I’m a vampire.”
Frank thinks his brain just shuts down entirely.
“Oh.”
It’s insane. It’s a fucking absurd thing to say.
But of course Gerard, Mikey’s hermit brother, Gerard, the nerd that hides in the basement, Gerard, who is currently covered in blood in the bathroom at a house party, of course Gerard is a vampire.
It dawns on Frank then that the blood is probably someone else’s.
That’s enough to make him reboot.
“Shit,” He gasps, pressing a hand over his mouth. “Did you kill someone?”
The thought makes his stomach drop.
And it’s not for the right reasons.
He should be terrified that Gerard can kill in cold blood.But instead he’s frantically trying to think of ways to clean up, to help him get away with it.
But that train of thought gets brought to a stop pretty much immediately.
“What? No, he’s fine. I just…” He looks around.
“Got a little excited?”
Gerard nods, somehow looking sheepish.
Frank drags a hand down his face. What the fuck do they do now??
“You’re not…freaked out?” Gerard pushes tentatively.
“Give me a few hours,” He mumbles into his palm. “Maybe some time to get rid of a hangover, too. Then we’ll see.”
Gerard nods and awkwardly goes to put his hands in his pockets, but of fucking course they’re covered in blood.
“..do we just clean up?” Frank asks eventually. “And…move on?”
“Sorta,” Gerard answers. “It’s not usually this bad.”
Usually. Like this is something he does often.
He hates the way his dick twitches. Mostly.
Fuck, this isn’t the time to be getting a hard on for his best friend’s older fucking brother (?).
Frank takes a second to look around the room.
He doesn’t even know where to begin.
“What’s your, uh-” He looks up and almost jumps, because Gerard is a lot closer than he was a second ago. “Usual process, then?”
There’s no answer for a second. Just a lot of staring.
It’s started to get him flustered. Fuck.
“..doesn’t usually need clean up at all. Maybe just washing my face.”
“Of course.” Frank says.
God, he’s getting really close.
The yellow lighting is making him look haunted, like someone’s abandoned doll with big eyes and pretty lashes.
Shit, his pupils are big, too. And Frank doesn’t even think he’s taken anything.
When Gerard licks his lips, it instills just enough fear to cool down the burning arousal in his gut. A little shard of it right in the middle.
“I’m not gonna hurt you, Frankie,” Oh. Gerard’s never sounded like this before. “Just…this whole thing. Gets you really worked up, you know?”
Frank nods like he has any semblance of an idea how drinking the blood of another person feels. Or the effect it has on your body.
It’s having an effect on his body, that’s for sure.
Next thing he knows, he’s up against the door. Back pressed to it with Gerard crowding him in.
And Gerard is so warm. Soft in all the right places. His shirt is kinda sticking to him where it’s soaked, and Frank wants to feel it. Feel where he’s soft.
His head lolls forwards without him really wanting it to, but it ends up resting on Gerard’s shoulder. Fuck. He’s so fucking hard.
“Frankie,” He says again, and Frank shudders.”Gonna let me?”
“Let you?” Frank gets his question answered before it’s even fully left his mouth, because there’s a big hand cupping his crotch, feeling where he’s leaking embarrassingly into his jeans.
Fuck.
Gerard hums appreciatively, and starts lapping at Frank’s neck, and that shard of fear gets just a little bit colder. Unfortunately it can do nothing to quell how horny he is now. Frank is drunk, and therefore this feels like a great fucking idea.
“Gee,” He mumbles. “Can I call you that? I already do. Ah-”
There might’ve been something else he was going to say, some sort of point to make, but it flies right out of his head when Gerard really starts massaging at the head of his cock, somehow that easy to find. Jesus.
He doesn’t get a response for quite a while, not until Gerard pulls away from his neck.
“You should..” He trails off and uses his free hand to guide one of Frank’s - both of which had been clinging uselessly to his leather jacket - down to his own crotch.
Frank forces himself to realise what the fuck is happening and wriggles free, wanting to be in control of his own movements.
This is Gerard. Gerard who’s palming his cock. Gerard who feels big in his hand.
And. Well, okay, Frank wasn't exactly unaware of that, the guy hardly seems to own any underwear but.
Seeing and feeling are two very different things.
“Gee,” He says again, hips starting to rock. “Mmn, please, I wanna..”
Neither of them are great at finishing sentences today.
But Gerard seems to understand.
“Yeah.”
They fumble for the zip and button on each other’s jeans, eventually ending up pressed together against the door again, Frank’s legs sort of spread around Gerard’s, leaning back while he gets loomed over.
The noise he makes when Gerard squeezes his hand around their cocks is embarrassing.
It’s hot and wet and slick, with blood, too, not just his copious amounts of precum, holy shit.
“Oh, fuck, Gerard.” He says, letting out a hiccuped little gasp.
“You’re so small, Frankie,” He giggles. That same giggle Frank is used to hearing when he talks about nerd shit. Except this time there’s a dick pressed up against his own and a hand enveloping them both and that hand is starting to move. “Not in like, an insulting way. You’re just small compared to me everywhere..”
Frank groans and his head thuds back against the door, because he is.
He’s always been scrawny and short, but like this, Gerard can overwhelm him completely.
And it’s really fucking hot.
“Faster,” He pants. “Gerard, please.”
Gerard obliges, picking up the pace with just the right amount of pressure to make Frank’s eyes cross.
Jesus.
“O-open your mouth. I wanna see.” Frank stammers, not quite sure what’s come over him. Horniness, maybe.
Blind desire to see everything about Gerard he possibly can before the encounter ends and he inevitably gets too embarrassed to say anything ever again.
Gerard grins this time, showing off his little fangs, and Frank can’t stop the way his hips kick forwards.
“Oh? You’re into this,”
Frank shakes his head desperately. He’s not saying no. He’s just.
If Gerard keeps talking like this he;s gonna blow his load way too fucking early.
“You want me to bite you as well? I shouldn’t now cause you’re so drunk…but you want me to, huh? Wanna end up covered in your own blood, too?”
He moans, desperate, hands grabbing at any part of Gerard he can reach, coming away stained red and sticky.
“Gee-” He tries, but he gets shushed.
“Mnh, Frankie. Wanna feel you lose it.”
Frank groans, starting to writhe. He can’t. Not this fucking quickly. In front of Gerard of all people.
But he’s drunk, and his self control is lacking.
“Oh,” He gasps. “Gerard, ah, haahh-!!”
All it takes is a well pleased squeeze around their heads, and Gerard’s cock twitching against his own for Frank to cum, spurting hot and sticky all over the place.
The room is spinning as he comes down, both metaphorically and literally.
He drops to his knees in front of Gerard, desperate to make the other man cum, to make him feel as good as he just made Frank.
“Shit,” Gerard says, one hand coming to cup the back of Frank’s skull, and totally getting blood all crusted up in his hair.
Speaking off, Gerard’s cock tastes like iron more than anything else when Frank swallows it down, desperate to show off his skills. The usual salt from skin he’s used to is underlying, though there’s a hint of cum, and he has to force his eyes shut and moan when he realises it’s his own.
“Good boy.”
Frank’s cock makes a valiant effort to twitch back to life. But even he can’t get it up against quite that fast. Not even for Gee.
The sounds filling the bathroom are dirty. Choking and gagging and little slick echoes and Frank does his best to bring Gerard over the edge, switching to laving his tongue over the head and jerking off the length not in his mouth with one hand when he gags a few too many times.
It’d be fine if he weren’t so fucking drunk, he supposes.
He knows when Gerard is close, because all his breathy, gorgeous moans start getting higher and more frequent.
He steels himself, and pulls off for a second, speeding up with his hand.
“Cum on my face?”
There’s a split second of eye contact before Gerard’s are rolling up in his skull, and Frank has to close his own against the spurts on his face, opening his mouth and letting his tongue loll out.
It’s messy and kind of really fucking gross, but so, so hot.
“Oh my fucking God, Frankie,” He hears from above when it finally stops.
He giggles and wipes uselessly at his face. Both of his hands are disgusting.
“Shit, here.” Gerard says, and then he’s being wiped with toilet paper.
“..thanks.” He mumbles, feeling his ears turn pink the more he becomes aware that his limp dick is just. Out.
Frank opens his eyes, and Gerard looks incredible. Just like always.
The blood helps, too.
Fuck.
The blood.
“Oh,” He says, looking around them. “Fuck, dude. We’ve really gotta clean up in here.”
Gerard hums, already zipping up his fly.
His hair is all messy and Frank wants to help make it nice for him again.
Shit, he’s so gone.
And he’s awful. Covered in blood and spit and cum.
“Just pass me paper and stuff?” Gerard says quietly. “I’ll do most of it.”
Frank nods, standing on shaky legs and tucking himself away.
He’s got no idea what they’re gonna do after the room is clean, how they’re supposed to leave without being asked any questions.
Jesus. Some fucking house party.