Melodramatic Metathesiophobe

Tomorrow

"I don't think I'm ready," Ray said, and it was the truth.

"What in the world do you mean?" Frank's voice was muffled behind the cigarette he'd stuck in his mouth and was trying--but failing--to light. They were outside, the sun having dipped below the horizon and given way to the stars. The party inside had grown too loud for Ray so he'd taken the initiative to step out. Frank had followed soon after with the excuse that he was making sure Ray didn't try to drive after having a beer. He knew just from sight that Ray's tolerance went beyond one beer, but he felt concern over the way Ray had looked. He'd played an entire show at that party with the band and they had decided they wanted to stick around a little while after. Mikey and Gerard had come to watch the gig, and it ended up being that Frank decided he'd come along. It had gone well and all, but Ray was tired, and definitely wound up.

"I mean tomorrow," Ray itched his arm absentmindedly and only stopped when Frank nudged him, "I don't think I'm ready for tomorrow."

"What's tomorrow," Frank finally got his light and puffed a few times to get it going.

"The moon."

"Well duh, I was messing with you. And why is it that you're not ready for tomorrow?" he made rings in the air with the smoke and then batted them away. Ray watched with slight wonder.

"I don't think I can do that again," Ray explained softly, "I don't think I can go through that again," he could already feel it; in the tense of his skin and the soreness of his muscles, and he believed it was much too early for that to be possible. He kept itching at his skin because of it, his posture hunched. Frank was looking fresh as the day Ray met him. Well, the second time Ray met him.

"Unfortunately there isn't much you can do," Frank mumbled around his cigarette as he offered one out to Ray, who hesitated before taking it and lighting it with an unsteady, worried hand. He'd been sober for a while, but... one couldn't hurt...

"Not much," he said, voice thin, "not much, you said, but- that means there's something, there's something you can do?" he was buzzing with the idea that it could be put off.

"Don't get your hopes up," Frank shook his head slowly, "can't cure it, can't stop it."

"Then what can you do?" Ray sighed, taking a long breath and feeling the unfamiliar smoke swim in his lungs, "if anything, at all..."

"Well, for one," Frank took his time, clearly drawing it out to mess with Ray, "there are ways to... slow the process, but, I really don't know why you'd do that to yourself, I don't prefer to," he leaned back more against the wall, closing his eyes.

"Is that all?" Ray felt sort of defeated. And strange, he felt really strange talking to someone else about something like lycanthropy in the 'real' world. It was a strange thing to know that there was someone other than him who had it. And it was stranger yet that he was a pretty cool and normal guy. They had more in common than Ray thought, and he even played guitar.

"No, that's not all," Frank reached behind him and Ray just assumed he was itching, but he weaseled his tail from his jeans and let it slowly sway along the ground. It was nearly impossible not to stare and Ray felt even more claustrophobic about his own. "There are ways to calm it down, ways to make it less aggressive. There are ways to keep control. Or, about as much control as you can." his tail stopped as he took a longer drag of his smoke. It was a deep brown, much like his hair, and the underside looked like a pale white, closer to his shaved sides. The fur was scruffy but well maintained, moderately long, and if he were to let it hang, it would most likely reach down a bit lower than his knee.

"How?" Ray finally asked as he snapped out of staring, contemplating letting out his own, "you're just going to say that and not tell me how?"

"Well yeah," Frank shrugged.

"Really." Ray frowned, sitting up just enough to let his own tail out because it was getting too uncomfortable. He knew Frank was staring as well but he didn't pay any attention to it.

"It's not like it would help you. You need some experience to do any of it, really," Frank finished his smoke, "you have to know what's going on. You need to know what's going to happen first, and you need to focus on it, you need to prepare and make sure you keep your head straight the whole time. It's difficult at first; very," he closed his eyes lightly and looked fine while Ray knew he looked like some sort of anxious addict.

"I can still try," he said softly, "how long have you been doing this, then? How long have you been this way?"

"That's not usually something you ask," Frank muttered, but there was a hint of him being hurt, "it's like asking a sick person how long they've been ill."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," Ray turned to him a little, "I'm sorry, you don't have to answer-"

"No, it's fine," Frank shook his head and waved his hand, "just for future reference. Going off of some very quick math, and believe me, math was not my best subject, I believe I've watched that moon go up around one hundred and seventy times." he drew the number out as if to accent just how large it was. Ray's eyes widened.

"fourteen years," he said, "you've been like this for fourteen years?" that almost seemed absurd to Ray.

"Mhm. Possibly the best and worst years of my life." Frank muttered with a sigh and opened his eyes.

"Have you told anyone?"

"You have a lot of questions."

"You bit me."

"Okay fair. No, there is not one person in my life who knows, aside from you." He looked Ray up and down slowly.

"So you've been going through this alone for fourteen years? Why don't you tell someone?"

"There's nobody I can trust," Frank shook his head, "you can't just tell anyone."

"So why are you trusting me?"

"Because I know about you too. You tell someone, I'm telling someone too."

That made a lot of sense. "Oh." Ray looked down and snuffed the butt of his cigarette, "so you don't trust me."

"That's not completely true," Frank waved a hand, getting up and tucking his tail back down his jeans, "I don't trust you with my life, but if I was in trouble and you were the one who could save me, I wouldn't be too scared." he messed up Ray's hair with a grin that showed off his sharp teeth, and left to go back to the party.

Ray sat there for a while and thought about what Frank had said, smiling. It was nice not to be alone. 

//Author's Notes\\

Aw, bonding time :) 

~XO, Vacant.~