sin ; frerard

I

"Fuck!"

Frank slammed his hand on the dashboard as his Chevy Impala sputtered to a stop.

"Stupid piece of shit!" He stepped on the gas, but nothing happened. "Move!"

The car didn't move.

"Fuck." Frank spat out his cigarette and gritted his teeth in frustration. He was driving back home from visiting his mom, and he had wanted to be home by at least ten.

He picked up his phone, trying to access Google Maps, but there was no signal.

Well, that was a given. He was in the woods.

Frank guessed he was a few hours from civilisation. Longer, if he was gonna try to walk.

He opened the car door, stepped outside, and lit another cigarette. The sun was setting fast. Unless he wanted to sleep in his car, he needed to find somewhere to stay the night.

As he took a drag, he scanned his surroundings. Trees, trees, and - Oh, a path.

Couldn't hurt to try. He locked the car, stuffed his keys in his pocket, and started down the path into the woods.

Up ahead was an old house... if you could call it that.

The thing was falling apart. It was an old Victorian-style building, white paint chipped and peeling. One of the windows looked cracked.

All in all, it reminded Frank a little too much of a Scooby Doo episode.

But it was his best chance. Plus, maybe there was food inside.

So he gathered his courage, walked up to the door, and knocked.

Almost immediately, the door swung open.

Standing on the other side was a young man, clad in a leather jacket and tight black pants. A black-and-white priest's collar adorned his neck, partially masking some kind of red mark. His black hair, some hanging loosely over his face, peaked out from behind his neck and had a "just rolled out of bed" look to it. His piercing hazel eyes drank Frank in, standing out against his pale skin. His lips were curled ever so slightly into what could only be described as a smirk.

"Hello," he said, his voice impossibly soft. "What is your business here?"

"What?" Frank said, blinking furiously, distracted by this handsome stranger. "Oh, uh, my car ran out of gas. I was just wondering if I could crash here tonight? Unless there's a place I can get gas nearby..."

"Oh, no. The next town is... far, by foot. It would not be wise to try." The man shook his head slowly. "You're welcome to stay here."

"Oh, umm, thanks."

"Of course." He stepped aside. "Please, come inside. You must be cold."

Frank stepped inside the threshold. It wasn't much warmer inside, he thought, but at least it was out of the wind.

The inside looked just as sketchy as the outside, though much better maintained. A crystal chandelier dangled from the ceiling. There was an unlit fireplace in the back, two velvet couches beside it, several golden-framed pictures on the wall above it. The stairs and banister were of a dark, polished wood.

Frank suddenly felt underdressed in his ratty grey sweatshirt and jeans.

"Here, I'll show you the guest room." The man started towards the staircase, pausing so Frank could follow him.

At the end of the hallway upstairs, there was a dear head mounted on the wall, which was fucking creepy, in Frank's opinion, but he didn't want to offend this hot guy, so he kept his mouth shut.

The man stopped at the door nearest to the deer head and opened the door.

The room was rather nice. The bed had gauzy white sheets, not unlike the curtains draped over the window. The dresser was the same dark wood as the stairs. There was another door on the side, which Frank hoped was a bathroom.

"That door's to the bathroom," said the man, confirming Frank's hopes. "I'll leave you here for now. If you need anything, I'll be downstairs."

"Ah, wait..." Frank gulped. "What's your name? I'm Frank, by the way..."

The man's eyes flickered to the right, then the left, then back to Frank.

"Gerard," he finally said, folding his hands. He then turned without another word and left the guest room.

Gerard. Frank thought the name over in his mind and decided it fit tall, dark, and handsome. Then he entered the bathroom, which he was delighted to find had a working shower.