"People die - they always do, always will, always have: get it over it. You can't save everyone, and at this rate, you can't save anyone." The voice was snappy and almost patronising in tone, and Bob felt as if he was being kicked down a thousand flights of stairs with every word spoken.

The two were alone, or at least they thought they were: but they were wrong, and that was just fine, as long as they remained utterly oblivious, in fact, like that, everything was fine, and perhaps that was just why it was the best way to live your life, and perhaps that was exactly why Ray had insisted that Frank stay innocent for as long as humanly possible, even if such a feat was ultimately impossible.

And perhaps Frank should have thanked him, instead of hating him, especially now in this state of retrospect, but still, it was too late to do anything: Ray hadn't been seen for days now, and Mikey was pretty much just dying inside, despite the fact he was already dead, so really, it had to be pretty big to kill him again.

But neither Frank, Mikey, nor Ray was the figure in the shadows that ensured the two were far from alone, at least not for the moment. The figure knew far better how to hide his presence, and his emotions as well, because ultimately an excess of emotion had been exactly what destroyed Mikey and Ray and everything they ever had and ever could be.

"I can try. I can fucking try!" Bob insisted, shaking his defiantly, and hating how he had to look up at the man, well, vampire - Bob hated speaking to them, especially when they were just so happy to lie about everything under the sun, and really, that made Bob want to do nothing more than throw them out under the sun and watch their fucking pale ass skin burn to dust.

"The treaty's broken, this is what happens, Bryar. You know that more than anyone, don't you? You've done your research, haven't you?" Bob only rolled his eyes in response: not exactly in the mood to be belittled by some blood drinking murdering asshole who thought he was the fucking shit and all because he had some fucking pointy ass teeth.

"We go to war." Bob nodded, gritting his teeth, and hating every goddamn vampire in the goddamn world right now. 

"I could bite you right now - there's nothing stopping me, Bryar-" And now this was just a power play: this was just an asshole being an asshole for the sake of belittling Bob further.

"I'd stop you." Bob promised him, scoffing a little and reaching inside his jacket pocket for his stake: gesturing it all too casually in the vampire's direction.

And of course, Bob received nothing but laughter in return for such a promise, but whatever, Bob fucking meant it - at the very least, the laughter was short lived and only due to the fact that the front door slammed open: practically snapping its hinges right then and there, and really, that wasn't something that Bob would have been all that appreciative of.

Bob reminded wide eyed and panicked as Frank Iero stormed into the house, slamming the door behind him, and clearly utterly unaware of just how fucked he'd become: no one was supposed to know about this meeting, and no one was supposed to hear any of it, and Bob couldn't help but feel that the vampire would not hesitate to attack, or even kill Frank.

"We have a visitor?" The vampire's eyebrows raised at that, grabbing Bob attention as he turned to pull his gaze over Frank: eyeing him up, but in more of a meal kind of way, as opposed to a homosexual one.

But speaking of homosexual Ways, the vampire made his biggest mistake in looking at Frank like that with Gerard Way watching from the shadows in the corner of the room.

"Frank, go." Bob snapped, grabbing Frank's attention the best he could, but Frank was just insistent upon fucking staring at the guy like he'd never seen a vampire before: of course he had, he'd been fucked by a vampire before, and several times, in fact, but still, he frozen on the spot and if he wasn't dying right now, there was certain vampire that would ensure that he was about to. "Frank-"

"Frank?" The vampire grinned, raising his eyebrows at the nineteen year old. "Very nice to meet you. Do you happen to know what blood type you are?"

"Uhh.." Frank stuttered out: Bob's panicked gazes finally making some sense, and leaving Frank with no time left to get away - almost tripping and falling as he turned, heading in the direction of the door, only to fall, like every cliché, right into Gerard's arms.

"Leave him the fuck alone." Gerard snapped, pulling Frank to his chest, before the nineteen year old could pull a 'no homo' and object, because really, fuck Frank's feelings right now: there wasn't a chance in hell that Gerard was just going to let this happen.

"Oh, Bob, did you happen to miss the memo that this was supposed to be a private meeting? I didn't want these faggots bursting in on us, or did you just not think about that? In the same way you didn't think when you let that Way kid break the treaty and fuck everything up-"

"Don't fucking talk about my brother like that." Gerard snapped, scowling at the vampire, with Frank still pushed up against his chest, and just maybe, right now, Frank didn't entirely mind: hell, he felt a lot safer right at Gerard’s side as opposed to right under the nose of the world's biggest blood sucking asshole.

"So, you're Gerard? I've heard a lot about you, but not as much as I'd like: surely you'd be all for this war - you do love a bit of bloodshed, after all?" Gerard inhaled sharply, feeling Frank pull away from him a little at that.

"No, I love my friends and my brother and I care about protecting them, so I'd appreciate it if you fucked right off and left them alone." Gerard snapped in response, leaving Frank just a little startled, and unsure as to just how on earth he was supposed to react.

"I could easily overpower you, Gerard, you know that. Don't fucking push it: Bob and I were just having a friendly chat - you and your little faggot of a boyfriend were the ones who fucked everything up here - remember that."

"Don't fucking say that- don't call him a faggot." Gerard was far more protective of Frank than he should be, but it was far, far too late for him to even consider trying to change that, because he cared about the guy, and that was just that: forever and always.

"I'll say and do what I like, and you'll fucking watch your shit if you-" And the vampire fell to the ground with a stake in his back and through to his chest - courtesy of none other than Bob Bryar.

"He was an asshole." Bob shrugged it off, pulling his stake out of the vampire and letting him fall to the floor. "We can burn his body later - right now I need some fucking weed." And with that, Bob made his way out the front door, leaving Gerard and Frank stood there: all too close, and with a fucking dead body barely a metre or so away.

"What the hell's going to happen?" Frank was the first to speak: pulling away from Gerard and making his way into the living room, and just generally away from the body, and really, it wasn't like Gerard blamed him.

"A lot of people are going to die." Gerard sighed out, shaking his head, and sitting down on the sofa beside Frank. "There's no other way to put it, but seriously, this kind of shit hasn't happened for a good seventy years, Frankie, and it isn't going to be good-"

"Exactly how old are you?" Frank interrupted him, looking up at the vampire with wide eyes. "I never really asked you, I mean like, vampires don't age, do they? I just always- I just thought you to be in your twenties, but you're not."

"It's closer to a hundred than twenty, honestly." Gerard admitted, leaving Frank to practically collapse at the realisation that he'd dated and been fucked by a guy more than eighty years older than him.

"What the fuck is this? Twilight?" Frank exclaimed, shaking his head, but leaning into Gerard's side nonetheless. "Fucking hell, I'd like to just forget that, because you're cute as hell, okay, and one hundred year olds aren't cute."

"If this is Twilight then you're Bella." Gerard smirked, risking putting his arm around Frank, and somehow, finding himself successful. "Wow, you really are, you've even got a Jacob as well - Alex."

"Oh fuck off - you are not Edward Cullen- why you'd even want to be I could never imagine, but, just fuck off, okay?" Frank sighed out, biting his lip and meeting Gerard’s gaze, but almost tentatively so. "Don't die, please- I mean, try not to die when things blow the fuck up, promise me you won't die."

"I'm immortal, idiot - it's you that I'm worried about." Gerard exclaimed, grabbing Frank's attention - the nineteen year old having never even considered his own death. "But, look, I'm not going to let you die- I don't care how much you hate me, but look, let me explain... I- I- I regret killing them so much, but then I didn't know you - they were just people, and I needed to feed- I was in New York with this guy, and it was fucked up - he was fucking crazy, but after I fucking brutally slaughtered them, I couldn't take it and so I came back to Mikey, and he hated me for what I did, but things got okay again, and then you turned up, and I'm sorry- I- Frank, I care about you."

"So I got sent here so I could be safe from you." Frank scoffed, rolling his eyes, and pulling his knees up to his chest.

"As if this fucking place could ever be safe."

"Please don't die on me, Gerard- I know, you say you're immortal, but please, don't get yourself in danger, like Mikey nearly died and I'm scared, I fucking care about you and it sucks, because you fucking suck, Gerard Way, but fuck-"

"I promise you, Frankie, I’m not gonna die. I haven't... you know what Mikey said to Ray- I haven't done that." But still, Bert's words echoed around Frank's head: haunting him, because Frank could never escape the fact that Bert just wasn't ever wrong.

"Gerard, how did you become a vampire?" Frank asked after a few moments of overly panicked silence, because still, Frank's head just wouldn't shut the fuck up. "You don't have like- I just... curious. I realised that there's an awful lot that I just don't know about you."

"I didn't ask for it or anything, this random guy in an alleyway just bit me and I happened to survive that... I'm lucky, I guess. I mean, it was really lucky, because otherwise, Mikey would have died: Mikey was sick, and Mikey was dying, he was going to fucking die, but I bit him and turned him to save him - of course, he fucking hated me for years after that, but we got through it - it's just been the two of us for far too long, and I'm used to that - I care about Mikey a lot, even if I'm not the best at showing it - I'm no good with emotions, Frank."

"Yeah, I guessed." Frank let out a light-hearted laugh, falling back into Gerard's lap. "My grandparents won't let me back in because apparently I'm the spawn of Satan now."

"Oh?" Gerard raised his eyebrows at that: perhaps just a little upset that someone had stolen the title from him.

"We had an argument when they told me what you did... and I was so angry I just blurted out the fact that I was dating a vampire... a guy, and that's like everything they hate... so we're not exactly on great terms anymore..."

"I'm sorry for fucking that up for you, I guess." Gerard sighed out, playing with Frank's hair in a way that was just nothing but ridiculously cute.

"Yeah, Gerard, you're an asshole and you fucking suck." Frank rolled his eyes: tone sarcastic beyond belief, and Gerard was more than fucking thankful of it.

"I'm a vampire, of course I suck- but yeah, I can suck... you off, if you'd like?"

Frank's eyes lit up at that. "Please."

-

"He's gone, isn't he?" The question was nothing but rhetorical and all but useless in anything other than killing the mood and the smiles and Pete's wishful thinking.

"Yeah, I think so." Pete sighed out, his gaze following Mikey's to the door, but his thoughts never quite catching up to Mikey's, because Ray had no place in Pete's mind, especially when everything was about Mikey.

"I fucked up, didn't I, Pete?" And when they sat like this: in some godforsaken of Bob Bryar's house, just pretending that they could be alone and everything could be okay: praying for naivety in the world of chaos around tem.

"It wasn't your fault." Pete had answered this question millions of times: the answer was always the same, and yet, Mikey was never satisfied, and that was just something that Pete reckoned he'd never be able to quite get his head around.

"It was." Mikey argued the case of his own self-hatred, as usual: again, something Pete couldn't quite ever begin to understand. "It was nothing but my fault, and it's clear: without me, he wouldn't have died in the first place."

"But without you, he would have never fallen in love with you: you did him a favour by just existing." And Pete spoke with knowledge, but from his own perspective and not Ray's, but there was no chance that Mikey would notice. "You do everyone a favour by just existing: looking at your cute face right now is truly an honour."

"Pete, you're not very discreet, you know." And it soon became clear that Mikey did notice, and Mikey had noticed every single time, and Pete was definitely fucked right now, but it was just a question as to what way. "It's kind of funny, you know, because you think you're so clever flirting with me everyday to make me feel better about myself, but really you're just dragging me down - you're my anchor, because I can't fucking deal with my fuckups and it's not your place to just make me smile enough to forget about them - you can't fuck with people's heads like that."

"I'm not fucking with your head." Pete protested, his eyes widening a little as he struggled to decode just what Mikey meant, and just what was going on in that pretty little head of his. "I'm flirting with you, because you're cute and I like you, and we never got a chance because Ray Toro can't decide whether he's going to stay dead or not, but I like you, and I like you a lot, and maybe I'll just leave that for you to think about, because seriously, you're already taking your time."

"I didn't know- Pete, you just- I thought that was just a stupid little thing, and I thought- I never even thought about this being a thing: us, I mean... I'm going to think about it now, of course, but, you're everything I should hate, but I don't, and this isn't going to work- I know, but-"

"But, fuck it, Mikey, with the war and everything going on around us, I'm probably going to die soon, so kiss me and make me feel better until then, because I can't focus on anything but you and your lips and everything I want and everything I need." Pete bit his lip, turning away. "Because with you, those lines are blurred - I don't know if I want you or if I actually need you, because it certainly feels like it sometimes."

"This is a kiss me moment, isn't it?" Mikey sighed out, pulling his knees up to his chest as he finally made proper eye contact with Pete.

"Yeah, in like every movie cliché ever." Pete droned on, blushing a little, because damn, Mikey definitely looked like he was considering it.

"I can't stop thinking about Ray." Mikey admitted, technically cockblocking himself in the process, and that was really not something that Pete was in support of him doing. "I mean, he's made it clear that he hates me forever now, but I just- guilt, fuck, guilt- it's killing me and I'm already dead, so really, guilt's accomplishing an awful lot right now - it should be proud, really, but then there's you, and you, you're something that I just can't put my finger on."

"You don't have to label and explain your every action, Mikey." Pete sighed out, letting his gaze slip to the window and the evening darkness outside. "Hell, we'll probably die soon, so just live for a couple of minutes with me - make this okay, and make this worthwhile.

"I'm already dead, Pete." Mikey reminded him, raising his eyebrows a little, but biting back one hell of a fucking smile. "But, you are cute, and let me tell you something - there's not a chance in hell that I'm going to let you die."

"Promise?"

"Promise." And Mikey fucking meant it, but as to whether that was a promise he could keep, that was simply out of his control. "And I'm especially not going to let you die without kissing me right now."

"Hell fucking yes!" Pete exclaimed like an over-excited child, and really, he didn’t even bother to care if that metaphor was entirely appropriate for the situation and the eventual fucking involved.

"You're a fucking idiot." Mikey rolled his eyes, leaning in and shutting Pete up once and for all - not by killing him, of course, although that was entirely possible, and really would be quite the plot twist, but, Mikey didn't really want to experience another boyfriend death right now (he certainly wasn't having much luck in keeping his boyfriends alive, like seriously, it wouldn't be all that preposterous to say that he was cursed or something).

Pete was grinning all the way through the kiss and all the way to the end: grinning across at Mikey as they finally pulled away, and Mikey didn't even roll his eyes, in fact, he just grinned back, because everything was okay, even if it was just for a few minutes, and even if the whole world was going to burn, Mikey Way had kissed Pete Wentz, and it had meant the entire fucking world.

-

hey guys:) lmao two more chapters left look forward to that:') votes and comments would be cool also ily lots<3