The Flaming Pits of Raymond's Sofa

Knock. Knock.

Ray Toro shifted on his new couch, hoping the damn knocking would stop so he could go back to sleep.

Wait... Knocking?

Opening his eyes blearily - any hope of sleep deserted - Ray stood from the warmth of his couch and made his way to the door. Grumpily, he pulled his unruly Afro down into some semblance of order with a ponytail he found in the pocket of his jeans.

He wasn't wearing a shirt, and said dark blue jeans hung low on his hips, revealing a pudgy midsection and the very top of what appeared to be Sponge-Bob boxers (which Ray hadn't even realized he owned until that morning).

He hoped that maybe his appearance would be enough to scare off whoever had the gall to knock on his door during late evening naptime.

However, that train of thought quickly derailed when he actually opened the door. Slumped prone against the door-frame was a young looking man in a beanie, covered in blood and glasses askew.

"Shit!" Ray cursed worriedly, kneeling down to check the battered and bloody boy for a pulse. He shook with panic when none was evident. Not only that, the tween's skin was already becoming icy in the night's chill.

Cursing again, Ray scooped the lanky boy up to take him inside, where he’d be warm.

He kicked the door shut behind him, an action that apparently jostled his passenger, who stirred lightly and emitted tiny groan.

'Good.' Ray decided in his mind. 'At least it means he's alive.'

As gently as possible, he deposited the bloody rag doll onto his couch. He comforted himself with the fact that the leather was black, at least.

Raymond huffed a breath, running a hand through his hair as he tried to think what to next.

The movement dislodged his ponytail, but he didn't care to notice. He leaned down, intending to check the boy's pulse again, when the door he had closed seconds before burst open. Another boy, this one maybe a few years older than the one on his sofa, stormed through.

Ray got the distinct impression of dark hair and short stature before he was slammed into and thrown backwards across the room, by what seemed to be a single off-handed strike from the stranger.

"What the hell?!" Raymond choked, wincing as pain blossomed down the front of his chest, and he just knew it was gonna bruise.

"Shut up and get the fuck out of here," the strange boy hissed, "You're ruining everything!"

The brunet frowned, pushing himself up hastily as the weirdo attempted to lift his patient off the couch, only to find himself shoved away once more.

Nevertheless, for the moment - with a snarl of frustration - the dark haired youth settled for hovering worriedly over the bloody boy, having lost his grip when he turned his attention to Ray, causing the poor battered kid to give a muffled cry of pain as his body thumped against the blood-slicked leather.

While the youth loomed over the beaten mess of tween on his couch, Raymond rushed to the bedroom, sliding to a stop on his knees as he dug under the mattress for the one emergency precaution he never imagined he'd ever use: a handgun.

He clenched his hand around the cold metal, biting his lip. He'd never used it. Ever. And he wasn't sure he had the guts to use it on the teen in his living room.

The teen. In his living room. The teen in his living room that had bust down his door and slammed him around. The teen in his living room that may or may not have some connection to the bleeding tweenager on his couch. The teen in his living room. ALONE. With the bleeding tweenager on his couch! He knew better than to hesitate like this!

The thought was enough to propel Ray up and out of his room, pulling back the hammer with a sweep of his thumb.

As he rushed back into the living room, the stranger was cautiously removing the kid's shirt. Coming to a stop barely inches from the intruder, Ray lifted the gun to rest against the shorter man's hair. When the boy noticed him, he heaved a frustrated sigh, grabbing the cocked gun right out of Ray's hand.

"Would you just fucking quit?! It does you absolutely NO GOOD and you look really stupid." As he spoke in the same, patronizing tone, the young man waved the gun - pointed at his own chest - to illustrate his point.

Ray shrunk back - not from any danger, because the stranger had yet to point the gun away from himself - because the stranger had started growling now.

As he reached again for the youth on the couch, Raymond found the butt of his gun smashed down against his forehead, before the stranger crushed the gun in one hand and tossed it over his shoulder at the wastebasket peeking out from the kitchen.

The boy bent back over the mess that lay on the couch, and a dizzy Raymond dashed forward again, only to be caught in a headlock as soon as he reached the sofa.

"STOPPIT. I'm going to hurt you eventually if you don't fucking QUIT being stupid!" It was a deep, snarling command, but Ray struggled against the iron hold around his neck as if his life depended on it.

However, the grip on his neck loosened a moment later, when another stranger - this one smaller, younger, and wearing more makeup - poked his head in the ruined door frame

"Oh." The new stranger said, running his eyes over the scene in front of him. "There you are, Gee." His face broke out into a beaming smile.

He strolled inside as though he owned the place, running his mouth the entire time. "So you found him, huh? That's good. Who's the freak? There's blood EVERYWHERE!"

Then his eyes widened, and he made a face of pure disgust as he clamped both hands over his nose.

"Eeeeeeww..." he whined plaintively, his eyes watering. “It smells like blood in here."

Ray blinked, looking up at the first stranger. "Who's the kid?" He asked brusquely, trying to wiggle free without 'Gee' noticing.

The so-called 'kid' dropped his hands into fists, stomping his foot and throwing a decidedly childish tantrum. "I'm not a KID!" he whined.

'Gee' rolled his eyes at the younger intruder's antics. "Oh shut it, Frankie."

While he was distracted, Ray slipped from his grip and tried to reach the bleeding tween on his couch for the umpteenth time.

With a feral noise of exasperation, the dark haired teen grabbed a fistful of the brunet's Afro, jerking him back.

"Will you just quit fucking interfering and let me save my baby brother?" he snarled, giving the struggling Raymond another rattling shake.

"B-brother?" Ray squeaked, not bothering to struggle any longer. He looked from the short, dark haired 'Gee' to the lanky, light-haired boy slicking his couch with blood.

"Why didn't you fucking SAY so in the first place?!" Ray demanded, shoving the intruder's loosening grip from his hair, massaging his abused scalp as he glared at the younger male. "It's not exactly obvious!"

The dark haired youth blinked. "I was a little preoccupied, thank you very much. NOW will you both PLEASE get the fuck out?"

Ray rolled his eyes, heaving a sigh as he stood up. "Whatever. Just don't let the poor kid die on my couch, a'ight?” He made a face, rubbing his tongue over his newly broken tooth.

“Ow." With that, he grabbed the collar of Frankie's shirt and dragged the flailing child out.

The younger boy squirmed and protested as he was hauled out onto the patio. He wriggled - much to the annoyance of his older companion - right out of his T-shirt. Raymond was absolutely shocked by the amount of sinuous muscle, concealed by pale skin, inked into oblivion. He knew it was impolite to stare but he couldn’t help it.

The boy looked almost proud of the way he was being ogled. “Awesome, huh? I know a guy..." he trailed off.

Frankie reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, taking Ray by surprise (once again) as he pulled one out and deposited it onto his pierced lower lip.

“You want one?” he asked politely as he lit the cancerous object.

Raymond spluttered aloud and dropped the boy’s shirt, “No! I absowutely DO NOT! You’re a… a… delinquent!” He stumbled over the words, probing at his annoying tooth.

“Nah, I’m just a smoker with some piercings and a few tattoos, and you’re a big pussywith a broken tooth, man,” the boy jibed, speaking around the cigarette dangling from his mouth with the ease of a long-time smoker.

“Would you get tha Fing outof your fucking mouff?!”

“Wanna make me?” the boy was far from threatening; but due to recent memories, Ray decided against using force.

There was an awkward pause as ‘Gee’ joined them on the patio, having somehow lost his own shirt at one point. The ‘I-don’t-need-a-shirt’ club was booming. His hands were slicked with blood and his face was drawn. Ray and Frank both looked at him questioningly, with no small amount of distaste.

He sighed, running a bloody hand through his hair - earning a grimace from Ray and Frank. “He’ll be fine, but I need a fuckin’ cigarette.”

Frank tossed him the crumpled pack from his pocket and smiled cheekily at Ray. The dark haired teen mimicked Frank, playfully blowing a smoke ring. The ring of wet blood around his mouth creased and dripped in a rather disturbing manner. Both chuckled, but Frank was too timid to touch his friend.

“Gerard, you’re all… bloody.”

He looked down at himself and sighed again, rubbing from his eye down to his chin - only making matters worse. Frank picked up his T-shirt and tossed it gingerly towards the older teen. There was second pause as he wiped himself roughly with the wrinkly material.

“Tha wonw wowk,” Raymond sighed uncomfortably, rubbing his tongue over his broken tooth again as he looked at the dry blood smeared on his own flesh.

“I’ll go get you a wet washcloth, Gee!” Frank decided, rushing back inside the house.

Ray followed him warily, still somewhat at odds with the entire ‘lets-make-decisions-without-Ray‘ issue, but the boy on the couch was still caked with drying blood himself, and it was a uncomfortable reminder how off the situation was. He’d rather remedy it quickly and get the trio out of his life.

Frank had found the kitchen, and was wetting a rag, so Raymond did so as well. He found himself nurturing some sort of paternal fondness for the boy, and as much as he wanted the whole group gone, he felt that the poor battered tween deserved a little compassion. He wandered back to his ruined sofa, and started to mop the red-brown substance from his ward’s brow.

“Ehhh,” the boy sighed aloud, coughing quietly.

Ray brushed the sweaty hair from the baby-faced tween’s clammy skin, unsure just how Gerard had known the wounded child would be okay. It was hard to ignore the ring around the youth’s mouth: identical to the one his brother had sported. The word that squirmed into the brunet’s mind was tossed out as soon as it registered. He refused to let himself think about it. It was just his concussion talking.

Ray cleaned the boy up as best he could and smiled weakly; the day had been hard on him.

“Why? Why does it burn?” The boy’s voice was barely a whisper; and as he dabbed gently with the wet rag, Raymond missed it entirely.

~.~

Gerard and Frank - waiting patiently in the doorway - both sighed. The older of the two plucked the wet washcloth from his friend’s grasp, rubbing his hands and face wearily. “That’s normal, Mikey.”

~.~

The boy’s eyes fluttered open, and Ray toppled backwards in his haste to stand up. The boy’s eyes were golden, but his irises were rimmed with red, and for some reason every instinct in Ray’s body shouted DANGEROUS. Ray tried hard to blink the effect away and then realized; it was probably because of the trauma he’d endured not too long ago. He sighed quietly, hefting himself up.

“Wha- Gee?” The boy’s voice was so weak that Ray had to strain to hear it, but Gerard apparently had no trouble, even from across the room.

“I’m right out here, Mikes.”

Moving to make room for the aforementioned Gerard, Ray fumbled with an excuse to leave.

“I’munna go get you a blanket… or a shirt… or… something… you must be freezing. Uh, Mikey, right?”

Ray rushed into his bedroom, presumably to find a blanket.

~.~

Gerard muttered quietly to Frank, “Go on, Frankie. You won’t like this part.”

Then he approached his brother.

“It’ll be okay, bud. I promise.” A swift peck on the forehead was all the child got before his brother was gone, dragging the boy’s best friend with him.

As an afterthought, he called over his shoulder, “It’ll be over soon. It doesn’t take long the first time.”

~.~

Raymond returned, but the blanket slipped from prone fingers as he froze.

The once baby-faced Mikey was now snarling, baring bloody teeth as his mouth - still rimmed with blood - convulsed hungrily.

As he backed himself up to the wall, he just stared and tried to imagine some way out of this one.

“It hurts so bad. Why does it have to hurt?” Mikey growled, and crashed his face (mostly his teeth) in the bloody wreck that used to be a sofa, tearing the arm off with a resounding SNAP.

~.~

There was a resounding SNAP from within the house, and then the sound of Mikey crying. Gerard nodded sharply.

“That should be the end of it.”

Frank’s twisted into an expression of pain. “But poor Mikey…”

Gerard leaned back against the house, taking a deep drag from his cigarette. “Yeah. But it gets easier.”

The tattooed youth nibbled his own cigarette anxiously. “Think we should…?”

A breath of smoke from the older of the two. “Not yet. We’ll give him a minute. Besides, it’s probably gonna be a real mess in there. First feedings usually end up one big blood bath.”

~.~

Before Ray could blink, Mikey was collapsing in front of him, gripping Ray’s Sponge Bob boxers and an unintended handful of denim, crying pathetically.

Huge tears rolled down the tween’s face, and Ray couldn’t help the seizing feeling in his chest at the boy’s obvious distress.

It hurt almost as badly as the wedgie the tween was unwittingly giving him.

As low as Ray’s jeans had started out, the abnormally strong grip on them was enough to ensure this particular pair of jeans would probably not stay up much longer…

Mikey buried his face in his new companion’s tummy and sobbed. Ray gingerly wrapped his arms around the shaking boy, patting his back even though he knew his expression openly revealed his absolute terror.

Ray couldn't help it. He made a little noise in the back of his throat.

~.~

Gerard's head jerked up, and his cigarette fell forgotten from his lips.

"Hear that?" He murmured to Frankie, shifting closer to the door frame It was obvious he was focusing, so Frank didn't say anything. He just moved closer as well, adjusting his hearing to the proper level.

A heartbeat.

"Shit," Gerard pulled back, his fears confirmed. "Mikey didn't kill him. Poor bastard is still alive."

Frankie winced. "So, what, then? Mercy kill?"

Gerard mirrored the expression. "No choice. Mikey wouldn't be able to live with himself if that fuck-tard human suffers."

Frank groaned and pouted, "Not even a little?"

"No," he sounded almost as worn as he was sure the man inside - in the clutches of his baby brother - did.

He swung around the broken door frame and stopped dead in his tracks, analyzing the situation carefully.

That couldn't be HIS brother clinging to some frumpy stranger's pants. That couldn't be Mikey HOLDING some stranger at all. What was going on?

~.~

There was a scuffle of feet at the doorway, and Ray looked up hopefully.

However, if anything, Gerard with his feet planted and his face curling into a snarl was...

Ray was pretty sure he was going to die. Damn.

“NO. Sex comes AFTER dinner, and definitely NOT with HIM!”

If anything, Ray's life got worse at that moment.

"WHAT???" He was sure that his heart had finally stopped. He looked down at the weepy tween, watching him turn to face his brother.

"What?" Mikey looked confused and near agony as he gripped the hem of Ray's shorts incrementally tighter.

Raymond started hitting the brunt of his hand against his exposed hipbone, mumbling 'Ow'
due to the incredible torment being caused him.

Mikey released him considerately, which actually did nothing for Gerard's image of the scene because the now overstretched fabric hung limply down over the man's pelvis. Mikey looked away and surely would have flushed the deepest red had he still been alive.

"Oh god..." he managed to squeak.

Gerard gaped wider if possible and growled furiously. He stomped forward and stood with his hands balled into fists, not that the proximity did anything for his opinion because one has no idea just how similar the scents of fear and pleasure are when in crisis...

"YOU! GET AWAY FROM MY BROTHER!"

"You think I wouldn't if I could? I suppose you figure I'm enjoying this?" Ray was getting so overworked now that he was shouting right along with the angry teen.

"I KNOW you are!"

"You asshole, I am not! What part of this is supposed to be enjoyable?" His arms were flailing and his pants were drooping even farther. Gerard yowled angrily again and stomped his foot.

Mikey was surreptitiously trying to right Raymond's jeans for the sake of his chastity, or so Gerard was making it seem. He had to be careful not to be slapped by one of Ray's obnoxiously dangerous limbs. Ray jumped and quivered, backing up against the wall and tripping. Mikey stumbled as well and Gerard shouted at the top of his lungs incoherently.

"GET OFF OF HIM!"

"Wait a minute! WHO IS ON TOP HERE!?!?!"

Mikey yelped and buried his face in Ray's stomach. Ray screeched at the awkward contact, the attempt at the fixing of his pants having failed miserably, flailing once again.

"GET YOUR FACE OUT OF THERE!" Both shouted.

Mikey sat up, looking utterly miserable, on the verge of tears, and quivering for lack of anything better to do.

Suddenly repentant, they both murmured, "Aw, don't cry. It'll be okay"

Gerard snarled at the other boy and balled his fists again. “Mikey,” his voice was gentle but firm. “You’re DOING IT WRONG!!! “ He waved his arms dramatically, using his hands to illustrate. “It’s not like he’s a girl, you don’t have to wine-and-dine him, just...” He made an odd face searching for the right word.”...NOM.” He made an elaborate biting motion with his hands.

Ray huffed exasperatedly.

"This is soooo not my fault. I'm sorry if it pisses you off that I was not already devoured, but I NEVER tried to stop him. I should have trusted my instincts... but I'm a fuck-tard and thought it was just my concussion talking!"

Mikey whimpered quietly, "You gave him a concussion? Geeeee..."

Gerard suddenly seemed more his age... and then a little younger, "I'm sorry, Mikey... please don't be upset. Don't cry, 'kay?"

Mikey turned, once again clutching the material of Ray's Sponge Bob boxers.

Gerard sighed, giving his little brother a pitying look. “You have got to be the only vampire in HISTORY who didn’t get it on the first try...”

The fabric finally ripped, making a rather unhealthy tearing noise.

Mikey looked down in horrified fascination, gaping and almost to the point of tears again. He stretched his arm back out and dropped the fabric over Ray's lap, a moment too late.

"So much for my dignity," Ray squeaked, hanging his head in shame as Gerard tried to stop himself from gouging his own eyes out. Mikey whimpered futilely and shook with shame as the older boy tried to find a way to turn the material that didn't leave him still terribly exposed.

"And on a more serious note," he looked up and sighed, "How did I manage to loose my jeans too? Anyone who can answer that one gets to kill me for free with no complaints."

"K-kill? Mikey's head swiveled to look first at Ray's ashamed face and then at his brother, "You want me to kill him?!"

Gerard moved his hands about uselessly, "You have to... otherwise... "

He trailed off, and left Mikey to imagine his own terrible ending (to the phrase).

Frank chose this inopportune moment to saunter in, stopping next to Gerard before he looked around.

"Well, that explains what you said earlier..."

"NO, IT DOES NOT!" shouted Ray, bending himself slightly to try and hide his nudity.

He leaned sideways and reached hopelessly for the abandoned blanket. Mikey grabbed it and offered it to Ray almost cheerfully. Ray flinched.

"No... Just... stay there... Thank you." He offered a half-hearted pat on the head to the tween vampire.

Ray wrapped himself in it and frowned up at the crowd. His head fell once more in shame.

"If you're going to have it done, do it now."

Mikey wailed aloud and started to cry for real this time, latching onto the knees of Gerard's jeans. Gerard made sure to catch the hem of them in his hands. He looked down at his pitifully weeping sibling and sighed.

"Please don't cry... or pull MY pants off..."

Mikey let go and sobbed harder. "I don't wanna kill himmmmm. But I don't wanna DIEEEEEEE!"

Frank walked forward slowly and moved from the living room into the bedroom, shuffling around loudly. When he returned the room had gone silent and he was clutching a pair of jeans and a pair of boxers.

"I don't know if they fit... but here's your dignity."

Frank swung the blanket up from the floor to hold it around Ray in a type of curtain, his arms extending a bit to hold it up all the way.

"Mikey, don't feel so bad, he's gonna die eventually anyways."

"Fuck you too, Sunshine. I thought you were the nice one."

"The honest one. Not nice. I figure if we're gonna kill you, you shouldn't be naked, because then it's like sex..."

Mikey squealed and flailed around. "No, not sex... not sex, not like that..."

Frank chuckled, “That's the point of pants, Mikey."

"Fuck you, Adam Lazzara," Ray huffed quietly.

Frank dropped the curtain and smiled, giving Ray's new attire an appraising look.

"I didn't take you for that kind of guy..."

"I'm not. So whoever is going to kill me do it really fast before I can think too long about the fact that I'm going to die in Adam's tighter-than-Hell pants."

Mikey was spaced out, his eyes focusing on Ray's thigh. He realized that he could hear the blood rushing trough the warm, free flowing vein just beneath the surface there. He could almost see himself sinking his fangs into the flesh and drinking deeply. The pants were so thin and tight he probably wouldn't even taste them... He shuddered and snapped out of it, looking embarrassedly away from the other boy's thighs.

Gerard spluttered, " Why were there another man's GAY pants on your floor?!?"

"A friend of mine was staying over... hence my sleeping on the..." he looked mournfully at his ruined couch. "Couch.... That was my new couch."

Frank sighed, "I take offense to that comment..." He struck a match, fluidly moving his arm to toss it directly at the lumpy thing that had once been a sofa.

Ray sank to his knees and cried out in anguish. "NOOOOO MY COOOUUUUCHHHHHH!! I spent my rent money on that couch... it was a one-day sale... It was so nice, too."

Gerard and Frank gaped at Ray's horrified expression; however, Mikey was once again transfixed by the wet sound of blood rushing through Ray's flesh. It was almost as if Raymond was offering; his hips jutted out as he mourned the couch. Mikey leaned forward compulsively, his mouth open slightly with want. The bloodlust was enough to make him salivate. Frank stared down at the hypnotized tween.

"Mikeyyyyy?"

Said vampire was yet unresponsive.

Gerard was shaking his head sullenly at the waste of life matter that was the boy. He was absolutely BONKERS.

"You're so off your nut... You're gonna die... and you're sad about your sofa?"

"I've got a MASSIVE CONCUSSION! I'm allowed to be 'off my nut!'"

Mikey shook himself once again, averting his gaze from his target once more. He knew that it was bad to kill, but he was so thirsty... and the sounds and sight were just so inviting... He was fast growing tired, though, as the moments of awkwardness wore on.

"And besides if you think Adam's pants are gay, look at your friend there. How gay are HIS pants?”

Gerard found himself inspecting the span of denim sloping over Frank’s butt and thighs. It was true, his pants WERE significantly tighter than the pair Ray was currently sporting... It wasn’t an unpleasant sort of tightness though...

Gerard’s eyes went wide as he realized he was staring at Frank’s ass.

“Gayer than unicorn jizz!" Ray continued, not noticing Gee’s attention lapse.

Frank scoffed and shifted into a huge pink and rainbow unicorn, shaking his mane vainly. Ray gaped even wider.

Mikey jumped up and hugged Frank happily, "I knew there was reason I loved you!"

"That is so QUEER!" Ray shook his head in shame.

Mikey whined quietly "... I'm not... but... I-I... "

"Not you... although... no, not you. I'm sorry, Mikey."

Mikey got teary eyed again. "But unicorns are awesome..."

Ray was fidgeting uncomfortably, like he wanted to comfort the crying tween but was scared to.

The decision was taken out of his hands as Mikey - half from bloodlust, half from the desire for a hug- launched himself across the space between them, landing in Ray's lap for the umpteenth time that day.

~.~

"STOP SEDUCING MY BABY BROTHER!!" Gerard shrieked, hands in his hair.

Frank phased back to himself, crossing his arms sullenly at being called queer. "It's not hiiiim..." Frank tittered, suddenly cheered. "It's his thighs."

Gerard whipped around, his eyes bulging. "WHAAAT?!"

Frank rolled his eyes, nibbling at his lip ring. “Use your ears, Gerard. Can’t you hear?"

Gee scrunched his face as he thought. It was true, though. He could hear it. The large artery in Ray's thigh was pumping double-time thanks to the constricting tightness of Adam's pants.

"Oh... Well, I suppose THAT'S alright then..." He wasn't entirely convinced, though. On the thigh still seemed far too sexual...

Frank was tittering again, like he knew exactly what Gerard was thinking and found it amusing.

"Oh can it, Frankie." Gee found himself sulking, especially when it occurred to him that there was a distinct lack of blood-sucking going on.

~.~

Mikey whimpered uselessly against the fabric of the terrible jeans and couldn't help but drool a little at the thought of the blood lurking underneath. He swooned and sighed and then passed out all together.

Ray wanted to cry now. He knew just what was happening and if it wasn't so dangerous he would have already helped the pitiful excuse for a leech. He gritted his teeth and looked up at the only not-so-living relative of the boy present.

“... What happens if Mikey doesn'tfeed?"

The sick feeling in his stomach told him that he already knew. He dreaded the answer, even more so as Gerard scowled, tears bunching in the corners of his eyes.

"He'll die; a long. Painful. Death. All that work will have been for nothing," snarled the older boy. "I should have killed you before he woke up so that he'd have survived ... not disrobed you."

Ray breathed in sharply, looking again at the boy... Mikey.

If he died, it would essentially be Ray's fault...

Frank sighed and raised his eyebrows at Ray: he seemed to know just what the Afro-ed brunette was thinking. He also seemed to encourage the line of thought.

Ray wanted to save the undead tween just as much as he wanted to live himself. What a conflict...

With a noise of disgust, Ray plunged his hand into the pocket of his discarded jeans.

"Dammit. I fucking hate ALL of you!" Raymond decided darkly, withdrawing his pocket knife.

Under the surprised stares of Frank and Gerard, he wiped the blade on the denim of his unoccupied thigh.

Ray paused, just looking at the knife for a moment, focusing on ignoring the sick feeling in his stomach.

"Stupid TWEENAGERS," he muttered, and drew the blade across his palm.

Dark blood welled up from the wound: Ray almost gagged as Gerard's eyes instantly keyed onto the cut, the vampire’s mouth beginning to water.

Breath ragged, Raymond made a fist over the sleeping tween's mouth. Though, as the drowsy vampire began to move towards the scent, blood spattered messily on Mikey's face and glasses, and a little on Adam's jeans.

Ray decided he'd feel bad for ruining Adam's favorite jeans later.

"Ew..." Frank covered his nose, eyes watering. "There's blood on his glasses..."

But the purpose was served, and the blood found Mikey's mouth after a moment.

Mikey made a contented noise, licking his lips and murmuring in his sleep, "Wha're you cookin', Mama?"

Everyone in the room watched; with mixed expressions as he suckled the blood from his lower lip, still deeply asleep as he wrapped his hands around Ray's wrist and fingers, tugging it down to his mouth.

Mikey breathed in deeply, his eyes fluttering.

"Smells delicious..." He laved his tongue over the bleeding wound, partially sitting up in Ray's lap.

Mikey's eyes were hazy and unfocused as he licked the wound clean, and the blood-flow stopped.

Ray's knife clattered to the floor as Mikey released his hand and turned in favor of his earlier interest: Ray's thigh.

Mikey pressed his mouth to the fabric, suckling earnestly at a droplet of blood that had missed his mouth.

Ray squeaked, his eyes doing a fabulous impression of dinner plates as he flailed a bit, entirely ineffectual.

Gerard snarled, and had leapt for Ray’s throat; however, before Ray had even realized the impending danger, it had been nullified.

~.~

Frank tackled Gerard from the side, landing on his waist in a straddle, pinning the older boy’s wrists above his head.

Despite his significantly greater physical strength, there was really nothing Gee could do. He realized after about point-zero-two seconds of wriggling under the younger boy’s body how INAPPROPRIATE their current position really was.

If he had been alive, he’d have blushed. HARD. He could feel EVERY inch of Frankie; legs... thighs, ass, crotch... all pressed hard against him.

It made his brain back-track to his earlier musings about Frankie’s pants. Which, of course, was NOT the direction he wanted his mind to go.

~.~

Against the wall, Ray’s heart was beating so fast he thought it might burst. He whimpered quietly as Mikey sucked the last of the blood from the fabric, nuzzling as he found the place where the largest artery pumped with tantalizing strength.

Then he bit in without warning, his teeth digging through flesh and fabric with equal ease. Ray gave one quiet cry before something Mikey had done made him relax against his will.

~.~

Frank smiled evilly, tutting lowly to himself. He knew better than to let Gerard interrupt Mikey's feeding. He sighed to himself and tried to get settled, which was easier than he thought it would be. However, Mikey was making a horrible slurping noise nearby and it made Frank shiver. Gerard had... let's just say, an adverse reaction to said movement.

... Which gave Frank an idea. He would much rather entertain himself this way than listen to THAT Way nom on Raymond.

There were several brief moments of wriggling on Frank's part as he tried to settle. His decision was to scoot down so that his groin wasn't pressed into Gerard's belt buckle. This made things admirably worse. For Gee...

So he grinned wider, leaning to press his nose against Gerard's. If he wiggled more than strictly necessary to accomplish it... Well, it's not like there were any witnesses, were there?

"What's the matter, Gee?" he asked, feigning innocence. Badly, of course; but Gerard was too preoccupied to notice.

Gee very nearly died. His mind was racing with ways to remove this little bundle of... discomfort. Each though however was contaminated along the way by the fact that with each movement Frank was pushing harder.

Oh, shit, Frank was gonna give him a hard-on if he kept this up... And ... Oh GAWD it was wrong, but the sound of Mikey feeding was actually making it WORSE!

Frank giggled and squirmed, realizing just what was happening. He had to work harder if he wanted to block out the noise. He took a deep breath of Gerard's scent. It was like harsh incense, a pleasant kind of twinge.

"You okay, Gee? I wouldn't wanna upset you," at the word up, he ground down harshly and smirked.

“AaAh!“ Gee wasn't proud of the fact that the action made him squeak. He firmly decided that this entire situation would never be mentioned again... if it ever ENDED...

"Shush." He ordered rudely and squeezed Gerard's hips with his thighs. There was nowhere to go but... down. Way down. He grinned and slid his hips down a bit, pushing with all his might. "You'll ruin all the fun, silly."

Gerard nearly squealed again. What was he to do? He DEFINITELY didn't want this... but something about Frank’s demeanor had him frozen, incapable of resisting. Frank chuckled and rested one hand on Gerard's side, kneading it like a kitten at play.

Frank bunkered down and purred. He had some instinct to bite the struggling boy beneath him, but he avoided it, slowly digging his nails into his companion's side instead.

He gave one final press - a good long one - before rolling off of Gerard and yawning.

Moments later, Mikey released a shaking Ray's thigh and opened his eyes drowsily.

~.~

Mikey shifted in Ray's lap, causing the now dizzy brunet to abruptly return from the blank state he had found himself in while the tween had fed.

He'd been at a loss for words... and thought. His eyes zoomed in hazily on Mikey and he swayed a little. Was this like drugs? Why was it so nice? It was incredibly warm and fuzzy.

But he couldn't seem to make his limbs work. His jaw moved, but no sound formed, aside from a low, grating breath.

His whole body was filled with what felt like a fuzzy light. It was like a champagne buzz on a warm summer evening. Why couldn't he protest? Mikey smiled hopefully at him and he couldn't help but smiling stupidly back.

"Mikey....mmmphzzzzz..."

As the concerned faces of Frank and Mikey began to blur, Ray sagged sideways, his eyes fluttering weakly.

"Ohmigod!" squeaked a rather flustered Mikey, "is he okay?!"

"Fine," mumbled his brother brusquely,"'S just a bite high. Damn him for being so easy."

Frank sniggered behind his hand, but otherwise ignored Gee, leaning down to haul Ray back upright.

"You should go raid his fridge for some orange-juice, Mikey. You didn't kill him, but he'll go into shock soon if he doesn't get some sugar."

Mikey leapt up and found what he could. It wasn't much: a few meager cookies and some apple juice boxes.

"Please wake up and have a drink!"

Ray mumbled and rolled over, not bothered by the boy‘s desperate pleading.

Gerard was silently fuming. His brother and the boy who had just thoroughly MOLESTED him should NOT be fawning over the man his brother was SUPPOSED to have killed!

Frank pouted in Ge's direction for a few moments, knowing the older boy would cave easily in his weakened state.

"Help," then he added in a rough whisper, "for Mikey's sake..."

Gerard twitched. Stupid Frank, knowing how to manipulate him...

Despite his displeasure - and the discomfort within his jeans - Gee stood up to assist his brother and stupid Frankie...

Mikey was near tears trying to get the older boy to wake so he could fix him. Everything was warm and glowy right now so he was having trouble focusing. He wanted to growl, to break something because of the futility of his actions.

Ray shifted with a groan, trying feebly to grab his thigh, where two tiny holes in the fabric revealed sickly looking scar tissue.

Mikey put his hand on Ray's and held it carefully.

**Please wake up. Please let me help you.**

Ray's eyes fluttered open weakly and he blinked groggily.

"Mikey?"

Mikey smiled with relief, pressing himself to Ray's chest impulsively. He nuzzled Ray's collarbone, unspeakably happy he hadn't screwed up and killed the Afro-ed human.

"Thank God... I thought you were gonna die..." The tween began to shake, climbing back into Ray's lap without thinking, clutching a juice-box.

"You gotta drink some juice, 'Kay?" Mikey straightened up, pushing the straw against Ray's mouth. "Otherwise you really will die. So drink already!" By the end of his sentence, Mikey's voice had become frantic, and he was handling Ray much more roughly than the situation called for.

Ray put his mouth on the juice box straw (intended for his toddler niece Grace) and drank. His eyes were still glazed and Mikey seemed to be shining like a fireworks show.

"Mikey.... Mmmm... warm... s'nice."

Mikey's stomach flipped with joy. He'd done alright after all.

~.~

Gerard, on the other hand, was no where near as pleased. He was rather pissed and completely confused - It should have been impossible for Mikey to stop on his own before he'd completely drained the stupid human. It was WEIRD, but not enough so to distract him from the fact that Mikey was NUZZLING the stupid human AGAIN!

Frank took Gee’s hand and smiled half-ass'dly. He was trying to assure Gerard that this was best for Mikey; the gentle soul who just wanted unicorns and hula hoops. Gerard had always had a violent instinct...

But this was what Mikey needed, and Frank wasn't about to let anyone - even Gerard - get in the way of what his best friend needed. The two of them had teetered on the edge of friendship recently because of some serious secret keeping, but this was definitely one of those moments that defined the boy as a friend. Gerard was a complainer through and through, however, he also knew the agitating importance of this.

Feeling slightly clearer thanks to the juice, Ray finally took a moment to get a handle on the situation.

'I'm not dead and he's not feeding... why is he still TOUCHING me?'

“Geddoff...” Ray grumbled, making shooing motions towards the skinny creature taking up his lap.

Mikey whined, obviously offended. Though not offended enough to not apologize profusely, “I'm so sorry! Please don't be mad... I didn't hurt you really bad, did I?”

Gerard was exhausted of the whole situation, tiring enough of it to step back toward the door for another smoke. Frank joined him, almost innocently smiling up at him. There was no doubt that the older boy thought of this as a bad day. Dead brother barely surviving, molestations, weird not dead homo human, weird juice thing. Yucky all over. Just stupid.

“You got what you needed, so why does it matter?” Ray was too exhausted to actually snap at the boy, but his message was clear enough: Goodbye, get going.

“I just want you to be okay before I go,” Mikey scrambled mentally for a reason to stay a little longer: he found none and began to despair, “b-but I can go now if you want.. I guess I should. I'm real, real sorry about this.”

Still sulking internally, he thought of what he had done that made the other boy so upset, he hates me so much now, thought the desolate child.

“Hoooooooo SIHTHTIR-... SHIT'

Mikey and Ray both jerked to look at the door, where Gerard stood staring aghast at his phone.

'What now???' Ray groaned internally, preparing to worry what else could have possibly gone wrong.

Horrified, Gerard held the damnable device aloft so that the screen was visible.

“We are SO past curfew!”

Mikey shrieked, incapable of moving anymore. “Momma is gonna kill us, Gee!”

The two both looked a little dead-er than the foolish human would have thought possible. Frank winced at the though of an angry mother Way. Raymond had never met the woman but was thoroughly sure that they had a reason to fear.

“We have to go NOW, Mikes, “ Gerard begged, fidgeting anxiously with his phone and finally acting his age. “It's just gonna be worse the longer we wait!”

Mikey nodded, forgetting mostly about Ray and his brush-offs. The tween waved over his shoulder and dashed towards the door faster than humanly possible. The others were hot on his heels into the night and away from the abused homeowner.

They left him like that: slumped against the wall in his roommate's gay pants amidst a mess of blanket and ruined denim, staring blankly at the carnage that had once been his living room.

His door had been ripped away and was now a gaping gnarled gap bristling with broken wood. The charred remains of his couch had settled into a despondent heap, and the stink of it wasn't even enough to block out the cloying scent of blood. What would the neighbors think when they found him like this? He should probably get cleaning...

Ray just sat there, looking down at his scarred thigh, remembering the moment just before he was lost. “Damned Tweenagers.”