It's 2:56 in the morning. So I write Frank and Donnie. This is my favorite of all pairings because there's two sides to it. There's a side that, when you watch the movie you think, "Frank and Donnie are like, in love right?" and there's this other side where you watch the movie and think, "WTF. Do they hate each other or something!" So, it's one of the only couples where you can write murder or sex and both would work. Neither show up in this fanfiction, but whatever.

Like it mentions on my profile, I got a request for a Frank x Donnie sex fanfiction because it's never been done before. I don't think I want to be the first one to do it, though. So in this fanfiction, it cuts off. They do have sex, but it's up to your imagination (Or it doesn't exist at all if that's how you interpret it.) because I don't want to ruin the perfect image of Frank butt fucking Donnie and moaning his name at every exhale. Okay? That image gives me comfort. If I write it on paper, it'll shatter into a million pieces.

Disclaimer: I am tired of people saying that Donnie Darko belongs to Newmarket/Flower Films/Pandora/Sundance. No. Do not mention the film companies in your disclaimers. Donnie Darko belongs to the man who actually wrote the story, Richard Kelly. If you give credit to someone else, you should go suck a fuck. Well, actually … you should give credit to Sean McKittrick and Nancy Juvonen, too. But only because they're cool.

THIS FANFICTION IS SORT OF A SEQUEL TO MY OTHER STORY LIFE BECAUSE IT TAKES PLACE AFTER THE TANGENT UNIVERSE AS IF DONNIE HAD NOT BEEN KILLED. I GUESS YOU WOULD CALL IT AN AU?

There was nothing better than fresh, warm sheets just out of the dryer, Donnie Darko decided as he lay in bed smiling. He could still smell the faint scent of laundry soap on them. Nothing better than warm sheets on a Friday night. He loved Fridays more than any other day of the week because he got to sleep late through Saturday ,morning. The perfect way to spend a weekend, in Donnie's opinion. He looked around his new room, having just switched rooms with his older sister, Elizabeth. She was going off to Harvard University soon and didn't need a big space for her things anymore. "You can take my room while I'm gone, twerp," she had told him, with a slight punch to the shoulder -- a typical "sibling" greeting. They had just finished switching furniture and helping each other decorate, so Donnie was all settled in.

He heard footsteps coming up the stairs and walking toward his room. He wondered who it could be. It was definitely a guy, but who? Eddie Darko wasn't home. Actually, the entire family besides Donnie was out for the night. Rose and Eddie went off to spend an evening by themselves in a hotel, Samantha off at Bethany Farmer's house, Elizabeth left in charge but ditched and also went to a friend's house. Donnie was all alone. The door to his room swung open, a tired looking Frank standing in the doorway. He looked surprised to see Donnie laying there, the room completely different. "I thought … Elizabeth …" Frank stumbled over the words. He was expecting to have a romantic night with her, but here was Donnie.

"We switched rooms because of her college thing," Donnie got himself out of bed and went to go greet his friend with a hug. "I'm the only one home. I haven't seen you in a while."

Frank hugged back and plopped himself down in front of Donnie's bed, sighing heavily. "I've been stuck at home for like, two weeks slaving over this new design for a costume I'm trying to make. I got halfway through making it when I realized it was way too fucking small. It would probably only fit somebody like Gretchen." Donnie laughed at this because it was hard for him to imagine Gretchen Ross wearing one of Frank's fucked up masks or costumes. He propped himself up against his bed beside Frank, sighing along with him.

"That sucks," Donnie said, Frank nodding. "I haven't really done anything special like that for a few weeks. I usually draw when I'm bored but I haven't been able to lately." Frank agreed that it was hard to find inspiration when you really need it. Or when you're bored. Donnie realized that Frank probably knew this better than he did because he was an artist professionally. He only wished he could obtain talent like that. Another sigh.

"How's Gretchen?"

"She's good," Donnie answered with a smile. "Really good. She's been falling a little behind in school, though because the police finally found her father. She's had to appear in court several times and miss classes. At first I thought that would stress her out, but she's been really cheerful. I guess she's just glad that he can't hurt her and her mom anymore."

"That's really great. I'm glad she's doing good now," Sometimes talking about Gretchen made Frank uncomfortable. He sort of envied her perfect relationship with Donnie. He only wished he had that with him. Much to his surprise, Frank felt Donnie's fingers lace into his, trying to make up for the awkward silence. Gulp hard. The silence grew more. What could be said? Donnie's fingers laced in Frank's, Frank's fingers laced in Donnie's.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask you, Frank," Donnie paused a minute to dab at something on Frank's face, something below his right eye. Just imagining it, he realized. Frank squeezed Donnie's fingers hard and waited. "Have you ever been in love with another guy?" Frank said nothing. Had he thought about it? Yes. Had it ever happened? He wasn't sure. Still squeezing Donnie's fingers, tighter this time. The metal siding on the bed was digging into Frank's back. The only comfortable position was to lean closer to Donnie. Or was he imagining that, too? Because he wanted it?

"I don't know."

"I love Gretchen," Donnie continued. "I do. I hope maybe I can marry her or something. But as far as how deep that love goes, I don't know anymore. See, I want to feel passionate with her, but whenever we end up … fucking it's like, not there. And lately I've started thinking more and more about this … guy friend I have and I really think I love him. Like … whenever I think about him I really just want him." Frank knew who he was talking about. But he persisted to ask.

"Who?"

Donnie smiled that creepy smile of his, as if he knew that Frank knew. He leaned in to him, letting go of Gretchen in his mind, allowing Frank to let go of Elizabeth in his. Tongues dancing, hearts racing, they moved onto the bed, under the freshly washed sheets and into each other, forgetting everything else. Frank didn't stop him, Donnie didn't want to. And somehow, it felt better than with Gretchen or Elizabeth. And neither knew why.

"Wake Up, Donnie."
End