Bloodstained Bathtubs and an Absence of Death (Frerard)

5 - Back in the Bathroom

"Let me out you cock sucker!!!"

I chuckled. Trapped within the bathroom walls, Frank had been spewing out all sorts of insults over the last few minutes in an attempt to get me to open the door. Thankfully, I was getting used to Frank's outrageous behavior, so insult after insult, the door remained shut tight.

Mikey and Ray had left not that long ago, and I just hoped they didn't plan on returning anytime soon. I needed to gain control over Frank again before they returned, because I was positive he was in no mood to help me make up any more lies about why he was truly here.

A couple more minutes passed by, and I noticed that Frank's angry pleas and cries were slowly dying down. I stayed put on the other side of the door for a while, making sure he wasn't trying to trick me, but it really sounded as if he had just sat down and gave up.

Normally, I didn't care about how my victims felt. It just helped me kill them more successfully. No sympathy meant no regret. But for some reason, I felt an odd feeling start to built up inside me. One that kept popping up more and more recently around Frank. One that I despised and didn't want anything to do with:

Guilt.

Yet here I was, feeling kind of guilty about what I had done to him. Kissing him on the head and flirting with him, when in reality, I suspected that potentially, deep down inside of me, against my own will, that it wasn't just part of an act to keep my ass safe. I think I was starting to grow a liking towards the guy...

I shook my head. Surely, those feelings were just nonsense. I couldn't possibly be feeling guilty or falling in love with such an idiot, or anyone at all for that matter. Frank could do that dumb little smile of his all he wanted, but I wasn't giving in. I refused. I wouldn't let him get in the way of my work. Sure, I kept Mikey and Ray around, because I didn't really feel the need to kill them (yet), but I had decided that Frank was going to die weeks ago. Even though I was delaying it, it would happen. It had to. I never backed out once I made my final decision.

Pushing the bizarre feelings and alien thoughts out of my head, my mind wandered back into the real world, that was now dead silent. Frank wasn't making a sound.

I decided to take the risk of having him trick me and check up on him. Once I removed the chair that was barricading the door, I cautiously peeked inside the bathroom, preparing myself just in case Frank was about to try to barge out at full force.

I managed to swing the door wide open, yet Frank still wasn't making any sort of attempt at escaping. In fact, he wasn't even in my view. The bathroom was only so big, and it didn't have any windows... where the hell did he go?

However, I soon realized the answer to my question lied right before me. As soon as I spotted the bathtub with the shower curtain drawn, I knew where Frank was.

It was as if I was experiencing the same night all over again. Pulling back the curtain, I found Frank lying down on the floor of the bathtub, paying no attention to my sudden presence, just like the night I had first attempted to murder him. Although this time he wasn't drunk out of his mind.

Just as I had before, I climbed into the bathtub, sitting down on the opposite side to him. Finally, he casually glanced up.

"Just kill me already," he groaned. "This is yet another perfect opportunity for you." Then suddenly, he crawled towards me a bit until he was in between my legs. I had already made it clear to him that I liked my personal space. What was he even doing?

At first, I was taken aback. I watched as his hand approached my lower half, but I was soon fully prepared to slap it away if he tried any funny business. But thankfully, he only reached into my pant pocket, and pulled out a switchblade that I had slipped into my possession earlier while guarding the bathroom door. It was kinda amusing really. Frank already managed to know that I almost always kept a knife on me at all times. He was starting to get to know me better than my own brother at this point.

After taking out the blade, he handed the knife to me, "Here, use this if you have to".

I couldn't tell if he was joking or not. Either way, I wanted my knife back. I didn't trust Frank with it. He was being emotional, which meant he was unpredictable. He might be planning on stabbing me with it for all I knew.

As I reached to grabbed it, I met eyes with him- those big, round, glossy eyes. There were all those feelings again. What made him able to do this to me? What was so special about him?

Suddenly, I was slightly more hesitant with claiming the knife back. I slowly took it from him and wrapped my fingers around it's cold handle, while Frank patiently waited for me to make my next move.

But unfortunately, every urge of mine that wanted to gladly kill him in an instant seemed to disappear, and all I could manage to do was put the knife back into my pocket.

"Pussy," Frank muttered under his breath. Judging by the menacing look plastered onto his face, I could tell he was trying to get under my skin. How he had the courage to test a terrifying murderer such as myself, I wasn't sure. But something about that made me admire him in a way. He was bold and easily fought back with anyone.

"You should be thankful I'm keeping you around," I shot at him. "You get to be with your little crush even longer than you were supposed to".

"You're not my crush". His face instantly turned blank.

I chuckled loudly, "Oh sure, I totally believe you. Even after the whole ordeal that got you locked in the bathroom. I know you're into me. It's obvious. You admitted it to me not even an hour ago".

For a moment, Frank was quiet, until he finally looked up with a smirk, "You like me more".

I was appalled, "No, no, no, I already told you I have absolutely no feelings for you".

"Oh really?" Frank questioned, and suddenly I realized what he was doing. Within seconds, he was back between my legs, his face practically touching mine and his hands placed on my chest and shoulders. "Gerard, no one's here," he whispered, "It's not like you can ruin your reputation as a killer".

"Ruin my reputation?" I questioned. "I would never-wait what do you mean?"

"Don't fight it," Frank smirked. And then, to my complete surprised, our lips crashed together as Frank leaned down and kissed me.

Grabbing ahold of his shoulder, I was fully prepared to shove him the hell off of me. Kissing was disgusting, repulsive, revolting, it- it was actually kind of nice...

Not really sure of what I was supposed to be doing during a kiss anyway, I continued to sit there awkwardly for the rest of our brief moment of contact.

Eventually, Frank pulled away happily, "You didn't stop me. Does that mean...dare I say, you enjoyed it?"

I considered this for a moment. The kiss was actually somewhat enjoyable. Frank's lips were soft, and his lip piercing felt soothing against my skin, but it wasn't that great. It was nothing compared to the feeling of letting a blade rip through someone's skin and watching the bright red blood stain their soft clothes. Or strangling a person who's desperately struggling against your grip until they eventually go limp in your arms, taking their last breath. Or... well, you get the point.

But was I going to tell Frank this? I considered it for a moment. I was apparently doing a horrible job of intimidating him in order to be in control. He didn't think I'd really kill him. And honestly, at this point, I wasn't so sure of that myself. 

But maybe, in the meantime, it was best if I acted how he wanted me to, so that I'd stay on his good side. I'd truly pretend to like him until I go in for the kill. That way, he'll have no idea while I prepare for it, and I won't get caught.

It was a messy plan, but I was positive it would help me out in the long run.

So, to answer Frank's question, I pulled him back in for a rough kiss. He was definitely satisfied, which for now, was perfect.