Prompt 13-Gerard is a hermit looking vampire that's awkward as fuck (Frank/Gerard) please R&R?
I tried to fix the typos, but I couldn't find all of them, sorry
enjoy! and please tell me what you think?
EDIT: anyone willing to beta this?
‘Damn’ he mutters to himself, pursing his lips moodily while his eyes dart around restlessly, frantically scanning his surroundings in search of something familiar. Nothing is even remotely recognisable. He’s lost.
‘Damn’ he repeats, a little louder now, getting annoyed at himself for not knowing the way back to his own fucking house. Hallelujah for nonexistent superpowers, because apparently being a vampire doesn’t reward you with a scarily good orientation, nor does it make you irresistibly sexy, outgoing, charming or anywhere near confident. Or maybe Gerard just fails at being a vampire. He hasn’t changed much since becoming one. He’s still an overly awkward teenage recluse holing himself up in a grime ridden basement. Only now he has to drink other people’s blood.
Sighing he drags himself along the dirty streets. He thinks that maybe if he keeps looking long enough he’ll maybe find his way back again, but as time ticks by his hope is slowly fading to the point of extinction.
He lets out a string of nasty curse words. Frustration slowly spreads through his body, making his bones go cold as his body heats up with all the pent up anger. It crawls around under his skin like angry rats clawing at his insides. His fingers are itching to bury themselves into the skin of someone else. Instinct, he suspects.
He stands still for a few moments, collecting his thoughts and calming himself down. He’ll have to ask someone for the way and that means not only confrontation with the human race, but also interaction with someone else than his brother. And, vampire or not, Gerard just isn’t good with people.
He’s just a socially awkward hermit. A vampiric one at that.
Carefully he readjusts the backpack hanging loosely of his shoulders. It is filled with blood bags from the local hospital, which strangely enough didn’t ask too many questions about his admittedly a little odd request. Comes in handy when it comes to the maintenance of his blood supply.
It’s not like he’s some kind of anti vampire on a never ending diet, he’d quite enjoy taking the liquid directly from its’ source. Only thinking about it makes his mouth water with anticipation, his canines begging to sink into a squirming mess of helpless human being. The thought is enough to make him see stars. But alas he’s never done it. He can’t imagine what it really is like.
He’s just really nervous about it all. Gerard has never been good at just taking chances and doing something. Most of the time he chickens out or gets caught up in his whirring thoughts. He hesitates and lets the offer slip. So he just sticks to grimy bags filled with cold, watered down blood which is already starting to rust at the edges.
He thinks about it with a strong distaste, his animalistic nature clearly battling his shyness. The longing for something more, something real, breathing, living is his constant companion. Another reason he tends to avoid people as much as possible. He doesn’t want to randomly rip some guy’s throat. It would cause a lot of trouble if he let himself go like that.
Especially right now, when there’s no other way than contacting one of those delicious creatures walking the earth.
So Gerard tries his best to bite it back, banning anything vampire related to the back corners of his skull, where information like algebra and reality awareness are gathering dust. He mentally prepares himself, trying to sum up the courage to actually face a human being and get out a coherent sentence at the same time. He lets his eyes wander across the deserted streets, scanning the dimly lit roads for any signs of life.
Darkness has started to set in, coloring the grey, dusty sidewalks a mix of deep purple and almost black shadows dancing across the streets as the soft hum of bees echoes lightly through the air. A light but chilly breeze blows, messing up Gerard’s jet black, messy hair.
For a moment he loses focus of the streets, preoccupied by flattening some of the random strands of his ebony tangles back onto his skull. This minor lack of concentration, however, seems to be enough to provide a possibility for unexpected things to happen.
Such as colliding with something, or rather someone, quite heavily, ramming straight into the person’s chest with such force he topples over and lands straight on his arse.
Vampire super strength and elegance, my ass!
Bewildered he looks up; catching a glimpse of the presence he collided with, only to be met with a stunning pair of gleaming hazel eyes. He almost chokes on his own breath. The guy he rammed into is by far one of the most attractive guys he’s ever seen in his entire life. His striking beauty is like a slap in the face. He isn’t the prettiest man walking the earth, but still outranks Gerard’s previous encounters with hot guys.
He gazes at the boy intently, letting his eyes travel over his body, revelling in his beauty.
I-just-knocked-you-over guy is a fair bit smaller than Gerard so the top of his head is about the height of Gerard’s nose, if he’d be standing and not sitting on his ass like the moron he is. The guy’s face is a little tanned, not obnoxiously so, but just like it should be. His skin appears smooth, almost velvet-like and he’s completely devoid of freckles. Gerard wants to reach out and touch every inch of exposed skin he can reach. He wants to roam his hands all over his face, his chest, his throat. Oh god, would it be too much to ask for to close his hands around the guy’s throat and squeeze? Maybe even cut it open and make the delicious liquid beneath surface?
He snaps himself out of his thoughts, quickly returning his view to a less dangerous location. Gerard’s gaze sets on the other’s lips. They are plump and a little pouty, the bottom lip sticking out slightly, he notices. His eyes are wide and childlike orbs. The nicest shade of hazel is staring back at him through curious eyes.
Oh fuck he’s been staring and the guy knew it all along. Gerard quickly averts his gaze, clamping his eyes shut for a moment, before reopening them. He looks apologetically at the guy. He sucks his bottom lip in, chewing thoughtfully on it. Or maybe he just distracts himself from the need to jump this guy right here, where everyone can see. He want so badly to just /take a bite/. He can feel his canines elongate, growing out of his gums. He’s barely able to suppress the sudden shudder going down his spine.
Well apparently his vampire self likes to make an appearance whenever he clearly doesn’t need it.
He bites down hard on his own lip, the pain bursting upon his senses knocking him out of his stupor so he’s able to rearrange his thoughts. Knocked-over guy is hot. Not edible. Hot.
Unfortunately he didn’t think it through when he steered his thoughts back to the attractiveness of the person opposite him, because now Gerard feels very ugly.
He hasn’t showered in a week. He didn’t have a reason to. The grease makes his black tendrils of hair gleam in the light cast down on them by the streets lamps. His hair falls limply around his pale, colorless face, hugging it lifelessly, like a deceased animal put on his head.
Again, being a vampire doesn’t make you extra handsome. In fact, you are more likely to look like a homeless or a patient from the madhouse, since taking care of your looks isn’t exactly high on the priority list of a creature of the night. All you have to do is eat and frankly, if you choose a victim it can’t escape, no matter if you’re ugly or not.
This just reminds Gerard of how much he fails at being a ‘creature of the night’. Some bloodsucking monster he is.
Luckily his self pitying thoughts are interrupted with a loud exclamation of ‘Dude, I’m seriously sorry man. I didn’t see you like, at all!’ The gorgeous guy flails his hands around in a frantic manner, to add meaning to his words.
It takes Gerard a moment to understand what he means, but then it clicks into place. He’s apologizing for knocking him over.
Gerard opens his mouth to reply, but snaps it shut as soon as he’s opened it barely an inch. His eyes widen in shock, the icy feeling of horror gripping him in a vicelike embrace while he’s desperately hoping the guy didn’t see his teeth. He stares at him with unblinking eyes, trying to judge the expression on his face. He waits for it to change into one of horror, disgust, fear, /realization/. But nothing happens. Maybe Gerard’s safe for the moment.
‘Dude?’ Hot guy inquires further, his brow furrowing in confusion, putting a frown on is flawless features.
‘Are you…um...alright?’ He seems to pick his words carefully, as if he’s talking to an instable soul and a wrong choice of words would cause him to snap, which just confirms Gerard’s assumption of looking like a mentally deranged person with serious shower issues.
And part of it is true. Gerard isn’t even sure he can speak right now, can’t even move a single muscle without having to fear losing control of his body.
He doesn’t know what brought it on, but he’s pulled so strongly towards this guy. Everything about him is reeling Gerard in. It’s like an overwhelming longing pulling on an imaginary cobweb of stings threaded into his body. And all those stings end at the deliciously gorgeous guy.
The concern embedded within the swirling orbs of greenish hazel starts to break through more clearly now. His eyes are glistering with sympathy dancing vividly across the different shades of color, enchanting his eyes into an enticing illusion of leaves twirling in a soft summer breeze.
He’s gazing down at Gerard with those magical eyes of his. They trap his vision and coax him to believe everything ever emitted from the presence those eyes belong to. He loses himself in those beady eyes. Everything around him starts to blur as he focuses only on them. He tries to analyse them, but all he can decipher is a certain reluctance hiding behind the surface.
Equivalently quiet is the guy’s next question. It is barely uttered above a whisper.
‘Are you…um…like, dim or something? Can you understand me?’
‘No…I mean, yes, uh…I’m not’ Gerard tries for a response but fails to get his point across. Instead he ends up mumbling unrecognisable nonsense. He’s vigilant not to open his mouth too far so as not to expose his fangs, which causes his speech to slur slightly.
‘I hurt my…’ He gestures around aimlessly with his hands, flailing them around helplessly before pointing his finger at the side of his temple. A crooked grin is spreading across his face, the corners of his mouth pulling up and stretching his lips into a thin, pink line.
Holding back his animal instinct is taking its toll on his coherency. But he thinks the guy’s better off believing he’s retarded than being ripped to shreds.
‘You mean your head?’ the scaldingly hot human asks him.
If his blood tastes as good as he looks… Gerard muses. He really tries not to think about it, but it proves to be exceedingly hard not to let his thoughts wander to the liquid gold pumping through his veins.
As the human gets no answer he just shrugs, continuing with introducing himself.
‘I’m Frank by the way.’
Gerard still appears set in stone. Frank’s (never been so happy to finally write his goddamn name! I’ve run out of synonyms ages ago) looking at him, completely confused and intrigued by the strange man in front of him. He doesn’t think much of it though. He thinks that maybe he’s just a little odd. Got dropped on the head or something.
Gerard knows he shouldn’t really care about all of this. He should just get up off his ass and ask Frank for the way and then disappear with his dignity still intact so he can quietly enjoy his disgusting blood bags in peace. But on the inside Gerard’s still just a human; and a teenager, which means /hormones/, so naturally he finds it rather hard to leave such a good looking creature behind. Especially when they look like a walking candy store.
Everything in him is screaming at his mind to just leap at the guy and bury his fangs deep into his jugular. He wants to drain him until the last drop of the ruby liquid is gone. Yet he knows he won’t. He’s just too shy to try anything, too afraid to fuck things up.
So he tries to stand up, putting pressure on the palms of his hands so he can push himself up in one swift motion. He flings his body upwards to try and look elegant, maybe even sexy. And it just might have worked if he hadn’t happened to trip over his own feet as he stumbled over the untied laces of his battered converse. The soles of his shoes scrape across the raw concrete in an attempt to break his fall, but he finds no footing and falls right into Frank; /again/.
He’s probably more than pissed to have a pile of stinking teenage vampire sprawled on top of his chest.
A tiny wailing sound escapes Gerard’s uncomfortably constricted throat at the feeling of Frank’s bare skin touching his where both of their shirts have ridden up a little. Frank just lets out a silent ‘hmpf’, muffled against the cotton fabric of Gerard’s shirt where his shoulder blade is digging into his mouth. Frank gags slightly as foul smelling fluffs pass his lips. They roll around on his tongue like bugs fluttering about in his mouth. Even after he manages to spit them out, a churlish taste still lingers on his taste buds. A shudder creeps up his spine, but he’s quick to suppress it. He has something very specific in mind and that certain something involves this adorably awkward guy on top of him. But in order to get what he wants he has to maintain his cocky image, so he slips his features back into place, grinning mischievously at the pale boy lying on top of him.
Gerard’s eyes widen at the devilish grin he’s receiving. The sudden onslaught of emotion is sending his neural system into overdrive, even almost shutdown.
He’s quick to collect himself though, detaching his body from Franks and curling into a ball, hands knotted tightly into his hair. He’s rocking back and forth, hands furiously clutching at strands of his dishevelled ebony black hair. He’s raking his hands through the grimy tendrils while voicing curse words to himself.
This is so embarrassing. He’d be beet-red by now if he’d have the corresponding blood supply circulating through his dead veins, but alas he hasn’t. Still there’s a faint scarlet flushing beneath his skin, tainting his cheeks a slight rosy red. It’s lighting up his pale cheeks, which really accentuates his white complexion.
Gerard’s never been good at social interaction. He just turns horribly awkward if he doesn’t know the person well enough; even as a vampire. It’s like his own personal curse and he can’t get rid of it.
‘Sorry’ He croaks. The squeaky pitch his voice has taken up is just another display of his nervousness. He directs his reply more towards the floor, his gaze never lifting an inch from the chewing gum he’s spotted a few feet in front of him.
‘No problem man, though I don’t think I caught your name yet?’ Frank tilts his head sideways, his ever present cheeky grin right in place.
You’re a goddamn vampire Gerard! You’re supposed to be the uber cool superior guy here! he screams at himself. Slowly but steadily he looks up, locking eyes with Frank. He grins widely.
But suddenly Frank’s cocky façade slips, his face turning alarmingly pale. He’s staring at Gerard in awe, like he’s some sort of trainwreck you just can’t help but look at. But it isn’t a judging expression. You can see the burning curiosity lurking behind his eyes.
‘Whoa…’ Frank’s voice has gone so silent Gerard would’ve missed the carefully uttered words escaping Frank’s lips if it hadn’t been for his improved hearing.
But what caused this sudden change in Frank’s behaviour? Gerard isn’t sure, so he just looks right back, his eyes frozen and unblinking as if to drill a hole straight through Frank. His stare is blank, empty, devoid of any affection. His emotions are well kept behind the hazel colored barrier leading straight to his soul.
‘You’re a…’ Frank doesn’t seem to be aware of what he’s doing. He slowly lifts his hand, extending it towards Gerard cautiously as if he were to touch a porcelain doll. He inches it forward bit by bit until it hovers very close to Gerard’s face.
Or more like his mouth.
Now he understands. Frank /saw/. Gerard had opened his mouth wide enough to reveal his true self, unravel the secret he kept so well.
For a moment neither of them moves. They remain in the same posture like statues frozen in place and time, cursed to uphold the same pose until the destruction mechanism of nature releases them. But then Frank starts to push his hand forward again in small, tender movements until the very tips of his fingers lightly graze Gerard’s cheek. The touch is as feathery as a faint gust of wind, but it’s there.
Gerard can feel the tips of Frank’s fingers brush against his jawbone, slowly trailing down his skin to the corners of his mouth. His hands are a little rough. The calluses scratch Gerard’s skin slightly as they slide down his face.
Gerard feels awkward. This whole situation is so weird and he just can’t figure it out. It’s like a maze he can’t find his way out of. Maybe saying something would disturb the uneasy feeling creeping through his dead veins. But he’s drawing a blank.
So he chokes out the next best thing passing through his mind. His throat is as dry as a desert so his voice comes out in a hoarse whisper.
‘Do I have a…uh…nice face?’ He tries for a joke to lighten the (at least for him) dark atmosphere encircling the odd pair, but it comes out more like a grimace. The corners of his mouth are pulled upwards to try and give the illusion of a smile. It stretches his lips which makes the cracks in the thin, pink material he has from nibbling on his bottom lip show.
Frank continues to prod at his face as if nothing happened, completely unfazed by Gerard’s statement. He seems oblivious to the other’s obvious distress, doesn’t even notice how uncomfortable Gerard is.
He’s too intrigued by the fascinating creature in front of him. Instead of the logical reaction of being afraid, Frank’s unhealthily big curiosity overshadows his other emotions, carefully locking them inside the back corners of his skull, proceeding to throw away the key. Fear is a restraint he doesn’t need for what he has in mind now. It’s just a small adjustment of plans anyway.
He uses Gerard’s crooked imitation of a grin to his advantage. Pressing his thumps into the corners of his mouth he succeeds in prying them ajar. Quickly he sticks the digits in to the first joint and tugs Gerard’s mouth open further. The inside of his oral cave his wet and a little sticky, but Frank isn’t bothered by the grossness radiating from it as long as he manages to catch sight of what’s hidden behind those pink, chapped up muscles again.
Gerard squeaks. A horribly high-pitched sound escapes him as he struggles up, scrambling to his feet to get away. In the process of standing up he rips Frank’s fingers out of his mouth.
He can’t believe it. This guy actually stuck his fingers in his mouth! Gerard spits a few times, trying to rid himself of the salty smell. Then he turns to leave.
Fuck asking for directions.
‘Wait! I’m sorry!’ Frank grabs his arm, his fingers boring into Gerard’s milky flesh.
‘What do you want?!’ Gerard asks him exasperatedly. His patience is running out fast and it’s only a matter of minutes now until he caves in.
‘You’re a vampire.’ Frank states matter-of-factly, his face dead serious; all playfulness vanished from his features.
‘And you just stuck your fingers in my mouth! I could’ve munched them off, y’know?’ Gerard snarls back. Angry he scrunches his face up, his features contorting into an ugly grimace.
Frank just laughs about his wording. A heartfelt giggle, as if he’s really enjoying all this.
This guy is beyond creepy. All Gerard wants is to get the fuck away, but sadly he can’t. He’s lost in his own city and the only living presence he could possibly ask for directions is this nutcase of a human.
He sighs, surrendering to his fate. Calmly he speaks, repeating his earlier statement, but less demanding and more questioning. ‘What do you want Frank?’
‘That, my dear, is the right question.’ Frank grins mischievously.
‘Follow me.’ He’s tugging on Gerard’s arm with a certain determination, like he’s intent on getting his way, no matter what.
He drags Gerard along like some sort of ragdoll, resulting in him stumbling behind as he trips over his still unlaced shoes every few uncoordinated steps he takes. Again, he isn’t exactly the definition of elegance. He’s quite far from it.
They come to an abrupt halt a few alleyways down. It’s dark here, big buildings surrounding them like a black cage absorbing every last bit of light struggling to meet the earth. There are no streetlamps to illuminate the ground covered in layers of filth. Years of waste and decomposed leaves clog up the drains and the foul smell of decay creeps through the air, ready to infiltrate your nostrils.
It stinks, it’s dark and it’s dirty. It’s perfect.
Frank slams Gerard against the wall, Gerard too startled to do anything about it. He smirks, a masochistic glint in his sparkling hazels.
‘Go ahead and bite me already. It’s not like I got any objections.’ He says it like it’s the most trivial thing in the world and he’s surprised Gerard hasn’t already done it, which may be justified.
Gerard really does fail at being a vampire.
Gerard’s completely thrown off by this statement. He can feel his mouth watering, filling with copious amounts of salvia. His fangs ache to be sunken into the delicate flesh of Frank’s neck. He’s been enduring this painful throb in his gums for some time now and he managed to dismiss the thought well enough. But now it’s brought back to the very surface of his consciousness and the need is hitting him like a tidal wave.
Shuddering he closes his eyes. He can’t believe Frank actually offered to let him take a bite, drain him of his blood. This is getting ridiculous. It’s like they’re in a bad movie. Who actually does that kind of thing?
Frank’s looking at him with eager eyes, a hint of impatience shining through. Gerard breathes in sharply, sucking in some of the cold air surrounding the two.
Now he finally has the perfect chance and he doesn’t know what to do, how to handle it.
He sends Frank a quizzical look, trying to project his helplessness through his expression and let him know he’s not quite ready to take the lead. Frank seems to guess Gerard’s inexperience. He doesn’t even question his lack of action, which Gerard is glad of.
Frank slowly moves his arms up until he’s got a steady grip on Gerard’s shoulders. He directs the insecure vampire towards himself so their chests are touching lightly with every shallow breath they take. Frank slides his hands down past Gerard’s shoulder blades, securing them together behind his back. He turns the two of them around so Gerard is the one pressing Frank into the wall.
Frank feels the cold, rough bricks dig into his back, the pointed edges leaving small cuts and scrapes across his skin as the thin material of his shirt doesn’t do much to protect him. He doesn’t care though.
Gerard is pretty embarrassed by now. He’s hiding his head in the crook of Frank’s neck, pressing his nose against the smooth skin there. He can smell the sweat on Frank’s skin and almost taste the excitement cursing through his veins. His whole body is giving off this vibe of exhilaration and pure anticipation. It’s radiating off him in thick currents, like a cobweb spreading rapidly, threading everything into its sticky arms. It dances vividly through the night.
Gerard lets out a low groan, pressing closer still. He wants to saviour as much of this as he can.
Suddenly he feels Frank’s hands slide up his neck and push into his hair. The grease-caked locks tangle around the limbs and Frank has to tug on the strands a few times before he can go any further. The black tendrils knot themselves around his heavily tattooed hands resulting in him tugging harder.
Gerard can feel a slight burn on his scalp as Franks steers his head upwards, nudging him towards his exposed throat. It makes a small gasp escape his lips and he has to choke a few times. His belly feels like someone put a blender in there. Everything flips upside down, mashing together, creating a pleasant concoction which circulates through his body. He feels his eyes roll back in his skull and he presses himself flat against Frank, smashing his petite, yet muscular body against the wall.
He can feel the blood pulsing through Frank’s veins. His face is squashed against the human’s jugular and he can feel it throb against his mouth. Tentatively he opens his mouth, poking his tongue out to lick a small stripe across the velvety skin. It’s soft and warm and so delicious.
He starts sucking on his throat, faintly at first, but vastly increasing in intensity. Blood is rushing to the surface of his skin, creating a deep purple splotch.
Frank is squirming under his touch and letting out small, breathy groans. He’s rhythmically clenching and unclenching his fists in Gerard’s hair, tugging at the raven locks every few sucks.
Realization hits Gerard. The human’s enjoying this. The thought makes him grin with joy.
This is so absurd.
The sweet smell of blood rushing through Frank’s body hits Gerard’s nose. It creeps up his nostrils like a disease intoxicating his body. It’s infiltrating his mind and destroys every last bit of rational thought.
He rips open his mouth and buries his fangs deep into Frank’s main artery.
Instantly blood starts to gush out of the two holes gouged into the milky flesh. The taste is like a poison injected straight into Gerard’s body and now he has to maintain the dose. He starts sucking, taking deep gulps. The ruby colored liquid runs down his throat like a river of life. He buries his razor sharp teeth deeper into the flesh of Frank’s neck, which is vastly turning into a macabre sight; a bloodbath. Deep, pointy lacerations grace the smooth skin. Scarlet liquid is leaking out of the wounds in copious amounts as the vampires mouth is closed over the bleeding patch of skin, greedily guzzling down the deliciousness.
It’s the best thing Gerard’s ever tasted. It makes his body go numb with pleasure. All he wants is /more/.
As he feels Frank slowly growing limb in his arms he forces himself to stop. As much as he is enjoying this, he doesn’t want to kill the boy. The last thing he needs is the police on his ass.
He detaches his teeth from Frank’s neck, carefully licking up stray blood with his tongue. He lets the pink muscle trace the bite marks, lapping up the last few drops and stemming the blood flow all the same.
Euphoria is coursing through his body, like a sudden wave of pleasure filling him up to the brim. A goofy grin stretches his cheeks, revealing his teeth, which are painted a dark shade of red, stained with the slowly congealing fluid. The rusty aroma floats heavily through the air, viciously attacking your senses.
But neither of them minds.
Gerard slowly lifts his head, still grinning, until he catches sight of Frank’s face again.
The human looks exhausted, but in a good way. A blush adores his cheeks, painting them a light shade of rosy. A thin layer of sweat covers his features, rolling down his temple in little beads. His breath is shallow, coming out in short, ragged puffs, as if he just ran a mile. Still he’s got this satisfied smirk painted across his features.
Frank reaches out, bringing Gerard close to himself once more. He hugs the Vampire to his chest, breathing against his ear, breath still irregular.
‘Now that you’ve got what you wanted, I want my part of the deal. See, nothing’s for free these days.’ He whispers huskily into the vampire’s ear, the mischief thickly lacing his words.
Gerard feels Frank shift, fumbling for something in his pocket, before slipping something into his hand.
‘I expect you to be there.’ Frank smirks, before turning on his heel and hurrying down the street, a small skip in his step.
Baffled Gerard opens his hand, carefully unfolding the piece of paper thrust into the limb. It has an address and a time on it.
Gerard just stares at the slip of paper for a while, trying to process the events of this evening. Nothing makes sense. He feels like he lives in a twisted version of reality. This is sheer lunacy.
Because apparently he’s got a date. Him; Gerard the awkward vampire with a shitty sense of direction, an irrational fear of fucking up and the looks that would put a homeless who bathed in a gutter to shame.
He allows a small smile to tug at his lips and shoves the paper into his own jeans, carefully folding it up.
Now all he has to do is find a way back home. Glancing around he notices the only company he’s got is an overflowing dumpster, something that looks suspiciously like dogshit and an old hat, which is torn and frayed so much it’s almost unrecognisable.