Our Dearly Departed

Kill All Your Friends

Part 8

AN: PLEASE GUYS! read this with a grain of salt. the word "fag" is used twice. the context is pretty significant in it's use. it's not meant to offend or hurt, but to show how Frank was treated by his so called friends and how he felt.-thanks! 

Kill All Your Friends

Gerard

She and I sat in the bedroom, waiting for Frank to wake. We left the lid open so he wouldn't panic, incase he forgot what had happened. We leaned against the wall, holding hands.

"I love you, you know," I told her, breaking the suspenseful silence.

"I know. I love you, too."

"Can I tell you something?"

"Of course, you can tell me anything."

"Frank called you my girlfriend. I didn't really mind. I know you said no labels...but I...I liked it when he called you that."

She snuggled into my chest, "I like it, too, boyfriend."

I kissed the top of her head.

"You've got a boyfriend and a girlfriend, I think."

I could hear her smile without seeing her face.

"Do you have two boyfriends?" I muttered nervously.

"Ha! That remains to be seen."

Frank stirred in his coffin, turning onto his side. If he was moving around, it wouldn't be long. We didn't have any blood on hand, but we both agreed he could drink from each of us until we could get him more. We sat enjoying each other's company, kissing and snuggling until Frank finally made a noise, halfway between a groan and a snore. We both leaned over the coffin. He opened his eyes.

"What the fuck happened? I feel like I got hit by a truck," he complained.

He sat up, holding his head.

"Don't stand up yet," I said, putting my hands on his shoulders, "you'll get dizzy. Open your mouth."

We both leaned in to look at his teeth.

"Nice!" she squealed, smiling, "you're gonna wreck someone's neck with those, Frank! Just so you know, Gerard loves to be bitten, so have at it!"

"Thanks," I scowled.

We helped Frank stand.

"How long was I out?"

"About six hours. How do you feel?"

"Ok, just groggy. A little sore," Frank moaned, reaching his hand up to the bite on his neck, "Hell of a hickey, Gerard."

I smirked, and bit open my wrist for him. I held it out and he took it without question, sucking down my blood. I pulled my wrist away before he could get too much from me. It was enough to get him through a couple of hours.

"You can have some of mine, too, Frank, but give yourself some time. Just tell me when your throat feels like it's full of cotton balls," she giggled.

"What do we do now?" Frank asked, an eager tone in his voice.

She and I looked at each other. We had been discussing that very topic earlier.

"We have a plan," I said, "but we'll only do it if you agree."

"Shoot."