Dirty Doesn't Even Begin to Cover My Secrets

Gerard was fucking vibrating. The icy glass in his hand felt like it was made of needles in contrast on his heated skin. He looked down and watched his bones shake, the alcohol he didn’t want threatening to spill over the rim. The exact reason he was trembling with such a force coincided with the reason he couldn’t, or rather refused to drink the blue liquid sloshing in his cup. The blood. Was. Everywhere.

All these adrenaline high bodies, heart beats loud and matching with the slow, dirty sounds of the bass, everything heightened, he couldn't lose his head. He couldn't afford to do that. Still, he clenched his knuckles tighter on the glass, praying quietly he wouldn't break it.

It was a sick scene, girls and boys, women and men, all of them slight and off. They had loopy smiles on their faces, giggles that were uninhabited, intentions that rung out as loudly as their voices. The drunken, sweaty, gritty club; the hook-ups and the dates and the girls’ nights and the boys’ nights, swirling into a cocktail of mess, the people doing things they may or may not regret in the morning. Gerard takes it all in, hesitantly sipping his drink, hands quaking. They all look so… edible.

It was only in Gerard’s natural mindset, that must eat, must kill, must destroy mentality that tempted Gerard into using his gifts, the freebie in seduction, for a nippy bite. All those low cut shirts, dipping and revealing the pure, unmarked skin, he wanted it, he fucking wanted to sink in of those perfect necks. Gerard breathed a shaky sighs, a desperate laugh finding its way out as well. Gerard never felt more like a monster.

He was in the corner of the room, watching his prey with wide streetlight eyes. Everything in the club was dim and vague, only distinct shapes of withering creatures visible. He vampire couldn’t help thinking about how easy it would be, just to saunter over on the makeshift dance floor and sweep the most intoxicated girl off her feet, drain her of her life fluids and get rid of the body. His eyes glittered purple, feeling the deranged animal inside of himself turn over, clawing from its prison within him, hungry to get out. Gerard made a helpless sound, propping his head against the warm black wall, slipping his eyes shut a few beats longer than a blink, then opening them again, heart rushing when he sees a shadow playing over his head on the wall.

"You're doing fine." Gerard acted as if he didn't just jump about three feet into the air, splashing his onto the shoulder of a girl who seemed to be very involved with a blond man, so much she didn't notice the room temperature liquid running down her back. He turned to find Patrick looked melancholy; a beer in his hands, "Try not to look so constipated though. People avoid that like the plague. Or at least most people do anyway."

Gerard followed Patrick's subtle gaze to Pete, where the short, black haired man was dancing quite suggestively with a human girl who had an inch or so of height on him. They mixed in with the grinding bodies of the club, if it wasn't for Patrick's sharp eyes Gerard would've never had noticed. He chanced a quick peek at Patrick, who was downing the beer in gulps, as though it would get him drunk. Wasn't such luck in the world.

"Mikey's doing amazing." Gerard nodded, not facing Patrick, in fear that he might catch that sad little face he knew Patrick was wearing, afraid he might say something out of line. He knew Mikey was in the bathroom with this cute scene boy, a late snack, that bastard. He hoped at least the boy wasn't jailbait.

Gerard watched Pete look onto the human with soft fondness on his face, his gut twisting and a pity for Patrick growing deeper, more significant. Gerard decided he should stop being an ass and check on him.

"Hey, Patrick... Are you -"

"I'm fine," Patrick pressed, pulling his fedora lower, so it covered his eyes. Gerard instantly regretted his decision of turning to the non-ass side of things. He sipped the remaining millimeter of alcohol, Mikey calming emerging from the men's room, hair in disarray and clothes rumpled. Disgusting.

Says the guy who went two weeks without a shower, Mikey thought aloud, Gerard rolling his eyes, though his lips quirked, a good-natured smile showing slightly on his mouth.

"So, how are you holding up, Gee?" Mikey sighed, taking a seat on the barstool next to Gerard and Patrick, "I could feel your tension through the damn walls,” Mikey stays hushed as he mulls over Patrick’s glazed over form, the gyrating bodies across the room. He tapped Patrick on the shoulder.

“If he doesn’t come back to you, you should let him go. He doesn’t deserve you if he can’t realize how lucky he was and is to have someone like you, Patrick,” Gerard gapes at his brother, shocked by his sudden words. Patrick flushes, murmuring a soft, ‘thanks, Mikes.’ Mikey gives a smile (twitch in the mouth) and turns back to Gerard.

“Now, you, you fucker, need to build up some resistance on the allure of that red stuff,” Mikey grabbed his older sibling by the scruff of his neck, hauling him off towards the back exit of the club. Gerard squirms and protests, but Mikey got one hell of a grip on him, and he ain’t letting go anytime soon. They break out of the building, and Gerard noticing how cold it is outside in relation to the humid, perspiring interior. Their breaths escape their lips with a curling, swift smoke. Gerard stares as his brother leans against the wall, questioningly, then reluctantly joins his side.

“I know this is hard for you, Gee,” he starts, and Gerard pulls the Marlboros from his pocket, a purple plastic lighter along with it, holding out another one for Mikey, who accepts and snatches the lighter up to light himself and Gerard, “But we have to do what we can to survive. Shit is gonna go down if you can’t control yourself,” He exhales, sighing and turning to Gerard.

“I’m doing my best, Mikes, I - ”

“You’re doing amazing, okay?” he says, his eyes red hued, voice rising with passion, and softening almost hastily, before adding, “Just get out there. No more basement!Gee, we don’t have that privilege now. I just don’t want you to get hurt…”

Gerard looked at the floor, smiling. He nudged his brother’s foot with his own, grinning when he looked up to meet his eyes, Gerard’s shining a happy yellow. He blew another drag before opening his mouth once again.

“So…” He paused to cough, feeling self conscious with his next question, “What do I have to do? To… get used to…” He made a gesture to the club and his neck, “Y’know.”

“Gerard, we did not spend two hours wrestling you into the shower for nothing. Don’t you pull that broken self image bull, you’re a knockout,” Mikey elbowed his brother, who was now so regretting how he had just given his last cigarette to the little demon before him, no more excuses up his sleeve to save him now. He sucked the last of the cherry, and then flicked it into the rain gutter, Mikey continuing on, “Go get ‘em, tiger.”

His stick-like sibling man handled him back inside the club, where he stood stoic. He already longed for the cool nighttime air, while the stuffy atmosphere made him tug awkwardly on the collar of his white long-sleeved button up. Patrick had stuffed him into the most uncomfortable clothes ever, and he never felt so overdressed for anything in his entire life, as he stood out like a sore thumb wearing that idiotic waist coat and slack among the sea of tight jeans and miniskirts. Nonetheless, he put on a mask, tried for, bored but looking for something interesting… and made sure fleetingly in the reflection of the mirror behind the bar he did not look like he was constipated, thank very much, Patrick.

“Hi,” The breathy tone that made itself be known in his right ear caused him to stiffen considerably, and not in the good way, “What’s such a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?”

Gerard turned, a skinny blond girl in his midst. She was clothed in black, tights, skirt and low cut tank top to add to his worries. The girl’s eyes were glossy, pupils blown out of proportion. She was definitely onsomething. He senses screamed for him to do anything, his target weak and vulnerable. He chose to move closer, studying the way her unnaturally red lips contrasted against her pale skin, mouth parting while he did so. He squinted, wondering if he really just saw that or if he was just seeing things. Gerard tested it.

“I could say the same thing about you…” he sighed, almost deepening his voice into a growl. He watched as the girl swayed a bit, blood pumping to her cheeks, creating a delicious shade of pink. He was inwardly proud of himself. Gerard wasn’t used to this. He didn’t know he could make people so… responsive.

“What’s your name, sugar?” he dragged out the ‘r’, the girl squeaking out a small, ‘Alice’ before Gerard drawled out his own. She shivered, leaning towards Gerard, who carefully laid a tentative hand on hers. He looked onto her soft features before saying, “Would you like to dance, Alice?”

She nodded, almost dumbly, and the vampire coaxed her into a more secluded area of the dance floor, ignoring the fast, unforgiving beat of the music and pulled Alice close, dancing in slow, small circles. She was practically smitten, following dependently, like a lost puppy.

Easy… easy… two pints… remember… Gerard glanced at Mikey across the room; as he listened to Patrick express the grievances that came with Pete Wentz. He blinked reassuringly.

After a good ten minutes of small talk while they twirled to their own tempo, if you could even call the stuttering responses Alice gave Gerard after he asked her the simple question of what kind of music do you like? small talk, he ushered her to the back door where he wanted to “smoke.”

“O – Ok… S - Sure. Sure!” She answered, letting herself be led by the hand. Gerard felt the tumbles of anxiety roll in, the paleness of her throat looking more and more sinister. He blocked his thoughts and settled on a mantra of two pints… two pints… two pints… two pints… no more, maybe less, but no more…

The delicious freshness of outside hit him, making him ease up considerably. He gave Alice what he hoped was a smirk, something sexy and not constipated. She gave loopy on in return, edging closer, Gerard’s hazel eyes pulling her nearer. It was too easy.

He kissed her, softly. It wasn’t dirty, or angry, just a tentative touch of mouths, careful and quiet, a movie kiss, even though they were in the filthy dark of an alleyway, shrouded by trash and dead leaves that crinkled on the ground. Gerard wasn’t going to fucking bite her and not be a gentleman about it. He actually had a conscience. She mewled, wrapping her thin arms around his neck, Gerard laying his hands on her hips to steady her. She had a shake in her legs, as if her knees were going to buckle any second. That would probably make this next part really hard.

Slowly, ever so slowly, he made his way to the side of her mouth, peppering small pecks down her jaw, trailing until he reached her throat, his heart a loud buhbumpbuhbumpbuhbumpbuhbump as he pushed his limits even further, licking a strip up the salty skin, feeling the blood rush through the thin covering. Alice sighed above him. He decided it was time.

Relax… He didn’t open his mouth, letting it stay on the pallid flesh it was set on, and Alice froze, the hand that had made itself busy tangling itself up in Gerard’s ebony locks fisting and keeping the vampire anchored to the spot. Gerard gulped. He parted his lips; breathed hot air over Alice’s pretty little neck, before he sank down on it.

“Nuughh…” The girl moaned wantonly, crashing her body against the stone wall, pressing Gerard even closer.

The rich, iron that held that last bit of sweetness filled the vampire’s mouth. He sucked the wound, biting again and again to assure that it wouldn’t close until he got his fill. Alice tasted like beer, green fuzzy things and candy. He sighed, lapping like a cat did its milk. Alice quivered; the venom coursing through her veins, euphoria higher than she had probably ever felt in her lifetime. Gerard was worried for her. That’s what fucked up the whole vampires living peacefully with humans thing. They wanted to feel that high again. Gerard moaned around the blood, its tangy taste washing over him in dark waves.

Easy… easy… two pints… remember…

He ran his tongue gently over the score, Alice giving one last whimper before Gerard looked back over the girl. Her hair was ruffled, clothes wrinkled where Gerard’s body had been, and his lipstick was smearing over her upper lip. She smiled; most likely so high she could’ve been on the moon. He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand.

You won’t remember anything of tonight.

Alice nodded, dumbly, like before, and then left without a goodbye. Gerard folded in on himself.

He was tried to control his breathing, it was difficult over how his blood – Alice’s blood rushed in his ears. He leaned back, thumping the back of his skull against the building soundly and then stared up at the clear night sky, the harsh light below banishing all the stars.

He saw the boy’s face, his gasping pleas ringing, and Gerard sucked in another breath of the nighttime air. He traced his eyes over the memory that had imprinted on his brain, the one where the boy was in the grasp of an animal, feeding off him like he was a three-course buffet, the gleam of a predator.

He was a monster.

Notes

2/4!

Fun fact: A cat's penis is barbed.