Frank shakes me awake, smiling at me. "Come on, we're gonna be late for work." He says.
I sit up, looking around at the familiar room that we sleep in. Aside from the picture frame of us. That's never been there before. We haven't even taken any pictures together! And the walls are a different shade of gray. It's subtle, but I notice. Although, now that I think of it, Frank and I don't even sleep in the same room! Nor did we fall asleep in the house last night... What the fuck is going on?

"Frank, why are we here? How--?" I turn back to him, grabbing his arm. But it feels more snake-like than I remember. Wait--Why does his arm have scales on it?

I look up to him, only to find that Frank isn't even here, and someone else is laying in his place. His head is propped up on his hand, and he's smirking at me through those crooked teeth of his.

"Hello, Darling." He says, waving his fingers. The skin is red and peeling, especially around the fingernails that have outgrown their owner. "Did you miss me?"

"Fuck no! Fuck you!" I yell at Lucifer, trying to move away from him, but my arms are held in place. The fingernails claw into my skin, and I grimace out of pain. "Not again!" I yell, trying to lurch my arm away, but the hands only pull me down further.

Lucifer somehow floats over me, red smoke emitting from his horns. "This is what you deserve," He sneers, spit flying into my face. "This is where you will end up if you don't. Do. What. I. SAY!"
I scream as the hands pull me down, turning me over to show me a land of red.

"You and that little boyfriend of yours are going to burn here, for years on end, if you don't prove that you've changed. You have one month, you bastard!" He shouts, his voice echoing around a chamber of pain that most people call Hell.

Now that I get a good look at it, I'm already noticing how terrible it is here. The heat has already scared several beads of sweat out of me, and I've barely been here for a minute. The screams hurt the most, though. I can barely hear them, but they scare me to death.

"You gave me four months!" I shout, shutting my eyes in a feeble attempt to shut out the heat. The hands grip me tighter, and I'm sure that if I wake up, there will be red marks on my skin. "We had a deal!"

"You're moving too slow." Lucifer sneers, moving into my line of vision. Red smoke isn't only shooting out from his horns, now, but from his ears, nostrils, and it's even foaming out of his mouth! "You had something last night, but, unfortunately," He pulls my arm away from the hands, and I almost have time to be thankful before he squeezes it, immediately cutting off the circulation. "You screwed it up!"

"What? We didn't do anything past what we've done before!"

"Do you not remember? Pathetic." He spits the last word, shooting smoke into my face. I cough, bile shooting out of my throat.

"Gerard!"

My eyes snap open, and Frank moves away from me, staring at his hands. I sit up, breathing heavily. A thought crosses my mind, and I hastily cheek my forearms for red bruises.

"What the fuck?" I yell, staring at the cluster of handprints running up my arm. I pull up my shirt, revealing dozens of more handprints, branded across my chest. I can barely see them, though, as it's probably 5 am.

"What happened?" Frank asks, shaking his hands. He reaches out to touch my shoulder, then immediately pulls it away. "Your skin was burning, I could barely touch you!"

"I had a night-terror again. It was real, though!" I say, showing him the handprints on my chest.

"That's probably why I was burning up."

"What even happened? Dreams don't translate to reality, Gerard!" He says, moving away from me.

"Yeah, but reality translates to dreams. Here's a play-by-play." I say, sitting up a little further. "I woke up. We were in your room, but it wasn't your room. The walls were different, and there was a picture frame of us on the dresser. I turned around to see you, but it wasn't you." I decide to leave out the part about Lucifer. "Then the hands came back. Oh... God." I whimper, clutching my head in my hands. "The hands..."

"It's a reoccurring dream?" Frank asks, pulling something out of the picnic basket from last night. "Here." He takes my hands away from my head, pulling the pair of black gloves over them. "Just in case."

I nod, remembering the first night that Frank let me sleep in his bed. "Anyways. The hands pulled me down, through the bed. They turned me around and I saw it. It was Hell, Frank. I just had to stare at it, and it was horrible."

"Okay, but why would the handprints be on you, in real life?" He says, touching the handprints on my neck with delicate fingers.

"I know, but I don't feel like you would want to," I say, shrinking away from his hands and leaning on the car door. "You'd think I'm crazy."

"Go ahead, tell me. Even if it does sound crazy, I'll just forget it ever happened. That's a promise."

"Okay. Y'know how I had to bargain with the Devil to get here?"

"Yeah?"

"About a week and a half ago, I had a dream. The Devil--Lucifer--said that if we don't... 'prove our love', then he's going to kill both you and me."

"Wow."

"He wants us to have sex. Deadline: One month."

"What the fuck, Gerard?" He yells, "Are you just using me for sex?"

"No! No, no, no, I promise you that I am not!"

"I'm not so sure if I believe you."

"Please, please, do. Both of our lives depend on it."

Frank looks at me, trying to figure out if I have a lying tell, (it's my left eye, by the way. It twitches whenever I lie). "I want to believe you, but this just sounds too crazy." He says, staring at the ground. "I'll try to believe it, alright? But that's the most that you're getting today."

"Thank you," I mumble, crawling over to him and sitting between his legs. "You're--" I begin, but decide against it. Saying 'You're all that I could ever ask for.' is kind of like saying 'I love you.', And God knows that we aren't there yet. "You're the best." I say, leaning into him.

"Yeah, I'd say it back, but I'm zonked." He says, yawning, "What 'bout you?" His hands stretch over his head, stopping at the car ceiling.

"No, that dream really scared me. Should I drive us home?" I say, taking his hand and squeezing it.

"Yeah, the car floor was pretty uncomfortable anyways." He smiles, opening the car door and climbing out. I do the same, sitting in the drivers seat and wrapping my fingers around the wheel.

"I haven't done this in a while..." I say, taking the keys that Frank hands me and sticking them in the ignition.

"Do you even have an up-to-date license?" He asks.

"No, so let's hope that we don't get pulled over."

"It's 5 am. We're not going to get pulled over. And--Hey. You never told me why the handprints are on you in real life." He fiddles with the lock and unlock button on the car, keeping his eyes down.

"He's the Devil. He can do whatever he wants." I sass.

"Right. I'm just gonna nod and agree," He says, "It's not that I don't believe, I just don't want to. So I'll pretend that I don't."

"First stage of grief: Denial." I joke.

"Is that some 21st century slang?"

"Probably."



I set down a Velvet Underground record in the very small V pile. The curtains concealing me from the shop blow open, and I catch a glimpse of a woman taking a record off of the shelf. She looks my way, and I show her a small smile. She returns the gesture, and walks over to the doorway, knocking on the wall.

"Hey, Mr. Record Man." She says, raising an eyebrow at me through the crack in the curtain.

"Hello, Miss. Customer Lady." I smile, walking over to the curtain and pulling it open.

"How come I never see you around, Candy? Don't you work here?" She twirls a strand of strawberry blonde hair around her fingers.

"Nah," I say, leaning against the doorway, "I go out into the big, scary world about twice a day. Then I go back home and watch Gilligan."

"Nice. I'd kill for a job away from society. But, no! Art school doesn't guarantee a job." She laughs, squinting her eyes. "I'm Debra."

"I'm Gerard. Give me some skin." I hold my hand out, shaking hers and smiling. "I work Sunday-through-Friday, 9-through-7. I'll be here if you ever want--."

"Excuse me? Customers aren't allowed in the back room--" Eric starts, then abruptly stops when he sees me. "Oh, Gerard. Didn't see you there." He moves past Debra, leaning into my neck. "Can I talk with you?"

I nod, waving goodbye to Debra and following Eric into Franks office, which he is just about never in. He slams the door behind me, putting his hand on his hips and staring me down. "Why were you flirting with her?"

"I wasn't flirting. I was just talking. Why do you care, anyways?" I ask. If I want to be friends with this guy, I have got to keep my heterosexual cover.

"Aren't you dating Frank?"

"What? No!" I say, attempting to defend my straight persona: Gerald. "I ain't a switch hitter."

"Really? No straight guy has hair like that."

"This straight guy has hair like that."

"Really? Then go make a move on the chick."

"I don't even like her!"

"Sounds like something that a homo would say."

"Alright," I huff, throwing my head back, "I'll kiss her by the end of the day."

"Good."



"Hey, Darling." Frank says, walking into the back room and checking for other employees. He doesn't spot any, so he wraps his hands around my waist and pulls me in for a kiss. I rest the palms of my hands on his chest, closing my eyes.

He pulls away, smiling at me. "What's up?"

"Nothing good. Eric wants me to prove my heterosexuality to him by kissing a customer. Some
girl named Debra who was flirting with me."

"I knew something about him was off." He says, sitting on a stool across from me.

"Yeah. I just wanted to let you know. I feel like I should do it. I mean, I don't want to. But what would Eric think if I did?"

"I get it. As long as I get to kiss you before and after you do it."

I look at him in surprise. "You're gonna let me? I wouldn't if I were you."

"Anything for you to feel comfortable. I don't want you to hurt." He kisses me again, then subtly pushes me off to the main room.

I walk out, holding a stack of records and walking towards Debra. "Hey again." I put a Judas Priest record on the shelf, then continuing with the rest of the J records. "What's up?"

She takes Hendrix in the West off of the shelf and stores it under her arm. "Doin' normal stuff, y'know. Checking out Hendrix."

"I'm just gonna ask you straight-out. Are you single?" I say, leaning on the table and attempting to seduce her. I don't exactly... What's the word? Game? I don't exactly have game with the ladies.

"Yeah, you bet," She smiles, moving closer to me, "So what happens next?"

I glance over to the corner of the room, spotting Eric at the register. His eyes are fixated on me, and he gives me a thumbs up. "We kiss?" I ask, leaning in.

She giggles, her offwhite teeth shining at me. "I like that idea."

She closes her eyes, parting her lips and waiting for me to make the move. I press my lips on hers, regretting every second of it. Before we get too intimate, thank God, she pulls away, looking up at me through big eyes. "Can I trust you?"

"Yeah." I say.

"Can you help me gank these records? Just let me out the back door."

I stop, immediately pulling away from her and pushing her away. "You were gonna steal them?"
"Yeah. You got a problem with that?"

"You bet!" I say, walking to the back room. She follows me, and I pull open the curtains. When she still follows, I whip around, seeing Frank come out of his office. "Either get out and never come here again, or we call the heat. Your choice."

"Gerard, what's going on here?" Frank asks, walking over and setting his coffee mug down.

"This is Debra." I say, hoping Frank remembers the girl I had to kiss. "She wanted me to help her steal a record."

Frank walks over, grabbing Debra by the arm and pulling her to the backdoor. "Out." He says, opening the door and pushing her out. She's about to yell at me, tell me that she wouldn't try it again, but Frank slams the door before she can even start. "Bitch."

"Ass."

He walks over to me, resting his hands on my waist. "I never got the kiss I asked for." He kisses me. I tilt my head to the right, close my eyes and rest my hand behind his neck. Frank's hand drifts lower, pulling my thigh up to his waist."Faggots."

Notes

oOh cliffhanger have fun