When he awoke again, the sun had barely started to rise, and Ray was on the floor.

He'd been there for a bit, hunched on his knees as the moon went down and, with it, his transformation. His hair returned to its normal length, his bones and organs finding their respective places, his claws shifting back into nails, and his face regaining humanity. He hadn't been awake for this part the past few times so he had no idea what to expect, but mostly it was just uncomfortable. There was less pain--it was more like relief, but it was still his body changing and he still very much hated it.

Once all the feeling stopped and the sun was higher in the sky, he sagged over, slumping to the carpet. He could feel Mikey's hands on him and he could hear the muffled sound of his voice but he couldn't make out what he was saying and he felt heavy all over and he couldn't do anything other than close his eyes and drift away. He was exhausted, completely drained. At least on the other nights when he lost himself the wolf had its own energy, but this time it was all his, all his body, all his energy, all his thoughts. It was painful. All he could remember other than Mikey bringing him to bed was pain; he was sore, aching, his skin hot, and everything felt so wrong--his mouth had been full and his limbs were bent in all the wrong directions and he had muscles that he didn't before and he couldn't even figure out how to move right and it hurt to think the only thing familiar enough for him to be able to work was his tail.

But he didn't have to think about any of that. He could just sleep. He sank into the pit of exhaustion and let everything slip away. It was the one place he felt safe—aside from in bed in Mikey's arms—like nothing could get to him.

Things were a bit different at Frank's. He'd gotten through the moon on his own and washed the caked blood from his hands numbly, flopping down in nothing but boxers on his couch, trying to rest. That was easier said than done when his phone wouldn't stop ringing.

Eventually, just to get it to stop, he begrudgingly picked up, groggily muttering a 'what do you want' into the microphone.

"Jeez, someone having a bad morning?" Frank could tell Gerard was joking as he spoke, sarcastic and happy, but Frank was tempted to say yes.

"Mmh." He responded, rolling over and bringing his knees closer to his chest, "why are you calling me?"

"I was wondering if maybe I could come over and we could stop for coffee?" Gerard's voice held that little optimistic tone he usually lacked, and Frank would be damned if he squandered that hope he usually didn't see Gerard having.

"Mm, eh, yeah, sure," he yawned, "yeah, when will you start heading over?" He rubbed at his cakey eyes and dirt-smothered hair.

"Ten minutes maybe? Is that okay?" Gerard sounded like he was moving around, "I have to settle the cats and figure out where Mikey is."

"Yeah, sure," Frank sat up finally and persuaded his legs into moving, "see you then, Gee," he said softly before hanging up. That was followed by a groan. How could he go out for coffee when he was that tired?? And caffeine never helped anyway, it always just made him anxious and squirmy. What was he thinking...

He decided maybe it would be easier to accept his decision after a shower. That wasn't it. He got dressed and that wasn't it either. It was only when he opened the door to Gerard that he finally came to terms with his acceptance of the invitation.

Gerard had this quality about him, this sort of rule his looks always followed. On one hand, Frank felt that if he saw Gerard on the street, he would assume he was going somewhere relatively nice. But on the other hand, he was just messy enough to be casual. Frank was in love with it.

This time Gerard had on a black jean jacket, adorned by a million pins which Frank could almost all identify, a black hoodie under that, grey ripped jeans, and two chains hanging down from the thick belt keeping his pants up. Frank honestly couldn't tell whether or not he wanted to be with Gerard or to be Gerard sometimes. Maybe both. Probably both.

He realized how long he'd been staring by the flush in Gerard's cheeks.

"Hey," he finally said, swallowing, "how's it going? You ready?" It was already becoming an effort to keep up his naturally hyper demeanor.

"I'm good, I'm ready," Gerard nodded, then stopped smiling, "are you ready? Are you okay?"

"What? Yeah, why? Are my pants on backwards?" He looked down, double checking that his sweats were on the right way.

"No, but.. you look really tired," Gerard cocked his head, "like, more tired than I've ever seen you, are you okay? Did you sleep last night?" He leaned on the doorway, probably trying to be casual but ending up seeming more concerned with Frank's well being. It felt nice to be cared about at least.

"Of course I slept," Frank shrugged it off, "how do you think I keep myself looking this fabulous? It's not just genetics," he was putting a little more effort into joking around than usual, but he felt it went unnoticed enough.

Gerard, while still worried, seemed to drop the subject for the time, sighing and rolling his eyes before tugging on Frank's arm to get him moving. "Yeah yeah, alright, now coffee. If we don't get there in ten minutes I am going to collapse and the blame will be yours," he said, which made Frank giggle.

//Author's Notes\\

Some more of Gerard and Frank! (yes, they are still in this story too :))

~XO, Vacant.~