The idea of relaxing around Franky was one he would adamantly state he upheld. He liked to think that he was relaxed and casual around him, as friends would normally be in one another's company, but the prospect of fully relaxing around a man he was employed to protect at all costs was fundamentally unfeasible. The moment he let his guard down, Franky could potentially get hurt. He was famous and rich; a catalyst for jealous maniacs to try and harm for whatever warped reason, especially with the rise of Leopold and his friends.

"...You know, you shouldn't tell me to relax, Franky," he laughed after murmuring his order, holding back on the extras he usually ordered just out of awkwardness - just because Franky had money didn't mean Kyle felt comfortable having it spent on him. "If I relax when I'm on duty -which I'm technically always on when I'm around you- then you might end up getting stabbed in the chest or shot in the head. I don't want that on my conscience-- nor do I want you dead. You're my friend and... I don't want to have to stand at your funeral, telling everyone that your death was my fault for not protecting you, you know? I'll always be a little... on edge, but it's because I care about you, yeah? And it's my job."
 
"Look, that ain't going to happen," he reassured once the man ordered before grabbing his wallet and handing over the shiny silver card, the glamorous glint from the card matched Franky's own glamorous life in general, so it was no surprise that he was proud to flaunt it off. Offering the cashier a smile, he handed over the card and patiently waited, ignoring the woman's clear confusion. With a quiet chuckle, he simply shrugged at the man's anxiety.

"Listen, you're more important than I am - at least to me, that is. I know that sounds cheesy but I'm a cheesy guy, yeah?" He teased before reaching to grab the card and the food along with it. "Sure, you need to make sure I don't end up with a fuckin' bullet in my head but that doesn't mean you can at least relax on the couch and watch the latest Yankee game with me, right? Unless people are all snipers these days, I'll be fine."
 
"You don't often relax on the couch with snacks and the game on the TV, Franky. You dine out at fancy restaurants and attend glitzy events and celebrity parties and all of that-- which, dude, it's amazing, I'm jealous. It doesn't leave much time for you just hanging out with me and doing normal stuff. I think the last time we hung out in some casual setting, you had to leave early for a business meeting-- which is fine, again. You're busy and I really don't expect you to put time aside for little old me-- that said, I definitely appreciate this," he confirmed once grabbing his order, smiling wide to show his sincerity. It wasn't often he got to relax around Franky like this. Granted, he would much prefer it to be in a more casual setting, with Franky dressed in something much more casual than the expensive suit he was currently wearing, but it was better than nothing.

"You busy tonight? We could hang out tonight, I'm kinda free," he admitted, trying his best to show that he could relax by resting further into the seat. "We could have a few drinks and stuff, 'cos you are my mate and I guess we don't hang out that much outside work."
 
"Nope, completely free... finally," he grumbled. Sure, he was a curious man and always wanted to know what was going on, but he could only handle being pestered for so long. Just one day to relax at home was something he craved, and to share it with the man he had his eyes on? It was the perfect night to relax. Snatching some fries from the bag, he chuckled quietly when it tasted like nothing.

"It'll be nice, I promise. Just you and me, some television, y'know?" He continued with a shrug. "I don't know if you'd be accepting but I could pour us some fine wine. You need to really enjoy the big life, yes? You're very important to me and I want you to know that. If I have to buy you a - I don't know- a fuckin' jet, I will. You're worth it~" He cooed with a roll of his eyes. "Hey, listen. I ain't gonna lie, I look pretty snazzy in my suits. That doesn't mean I like to wear them to bed and whatnot, hell no. I guess I can't blame you, you've never seen me in anything but suits."
 
"I bet you look just as snazzy in a pair of joggers and a t-shirt, dude. You're not exactly hard on the eye to a lot of people-- didn't you come first in that magazine poll for 'Hottest Men' or whatever? Look, I ain't asking for jets or fancy stuff. A McDonald's every now and then would suit me fine," he smiled, the idea of just spending some time at the other's apartment with him, doing something as normal as watching TV with some junk food, sounded perfect. Unlike Franky, Kyle wasn't entirely sure what his feelings were exactly. He knew for certain that he liked Franky as a friend and someone he enjoyed being around, but anything more than that was unclear. He had no problems admitting that his sexuality wasn't strictly set and solid; he was perfectly happy to experiment. He just wasn't sure if he had feelings for Franky, and he didn't really want to force that either. He figured that if they were there, they'd appear whenever the time was right.

Until then, just hanging out with him as friends was perfect-- or at least, the night would have been perfect if it hadn't been interrupted halfway through the evening with the news that the police of chief had been brutally murdered in his own home. Kyle got the alert before the news broke out on social media - he worked as a security guard for Franky, but he was also still a policeman. Finding out that the chief had been killed by the gang he was trying to identify and stop was genuinely shocking, and it cut the relaxed night short.

"I-- I need to, uh-- I should go to the station," he babbled, reaching for his phone with a grimace. "I... They'll need my help, I think-- can I get a ride there? Is that... god, I don't want to be a nuisance, but I really need to get there, Franky, and I'm... just shocked, I-I guess."
 
“Kyle, sit down,” he ordered quietly. Sure, the vampire had set up a friendly relationship with the chief but nothing more than just a business friendship, and he knew that the gang would inevitably go for someone with high status. He also knew that meant they weren’t afraid to kill an officer, and Kyle just so happened to fit that role.

So, in the aforementioned sweats and shirt, with his legs crossed and a beer in his one hand, he grew silent just for a moment of contemplation.

“Listen, just relax. As my bodyguard, shouldn’t that mean that I’m more in danger than before?” He reminded with a growing frown. “I’m sure the others got this, you need to just take it easy for once in your life.”
 
"You're safe enough in your apartment, Franky. This place is guarded well enough, I just think I should be at the station-- the chief has been murdered. That's a... it's a fucking big deal, you know? And... And Martin was... he was so nice and he had so much faith in me and I should-- I should go. It's my job, Franky," he insisted as sternly as he could manage, grabbing his worn-out jacket. Once he realised how strict he was coming across, he let his shoulders physically relax and offered up a smile, however difficult the action was for him. "I'll see you at work tomorrow-- I'll bring coffee, alright? I... Unless they want me to help out at the station, I'll be at work like normal. I just need to go there now."

Nodding for emphasis, Kyle made a hurried exit, deciding that it would probably be quicker to run the distance to the station. He didn't want to be stuck in a car with Franky moaning at him that he wasn't 'relaxed' enough, and that he shouldn't run out in the middle of the night to help at the station. Heading out the main entrance, rather than take Franky's car with him, would turn out to be a silly decision - though Kyle obviously didn't know why.

Sometimes, Leopold did sit quietly in the park just opposite Franky's building. It risked discovery by his ex-boyfriend, and thus risked ruining the plan he and his friends had of first scaring Franky and getting him worried about being targeted, but the vampire couldn't really help himself. He had the urge to sometimes just sit there and stare at the building, knowing full well that the man who had ruined his life for decades was in there, living a life of luxury. That night was no different. Despite the murder, he had wandered from the scene with little care about someone running after him. Leaving his friends finish up and enjoy themselves as much as they wanted with what few hours remained of the night, he had decided that he would cool off at the spot he had frequented far too often. And that's when he saw Kyle and put two and two together. He recognised the man's face from the TV, noticing him stood near his ex-boyfriend as Franky blathered on about the gang. Thus, seeing Kyle exit hurriedly from Franky's apartment building did little to calm Leopold down, with the man automatically assuming they were an item. Commendably, he managed to walk away rather than storm the building, but he completely broke down once back at his own home.

"H-He has a fucking boyfriend. I mean-- I mean, it's been years b-but... but to see it with m-my own eyes... he p-puts a fucking bullet in my head and he gets to be happy with someone-- it d-doesn't work like that. He doesn't deserve t-to be with anyone!"

"We know that, honey. We get it. He'll get what's coming to him. It's karma, you know? Just... in our hands. A little enforced karma," hushed Jessica as she comfortingly smoothed the other's hair, while shooting concerned glances at Sanghai and Keisuke.
 
“It’ll be fine. It’s probably not even a boyfriend, Leo. For all we know, he’s just a guy he hangs out with sometimes,” offered Sanghai as he pushed his mask up a tad. If there was one thing that annoyed him about Leopold, it was his clear refusal to move on. Sure, he was petty just like the next guy and hell, killing the guy was justified, but to get mad when he moved on yet not moving on himself? It was mildly infuriating... especially since he would be scolded by Jessica if he dared suggest he was interested in someone in fear it would upset Leo.

“Look, let’s get outta here. We can get home, relax and just... I dunno, enjoy our spoils? Tonight was fun, man!” He whined before offering a shy smile. “I’m full, I’ll admit. I can’t wait to hear all about the city in an uproar.”
 
"I don't fucking want to go home yet. I... I need to go and get a drink-- an alcoholic drink. I don't care that he's with someone, S-Sanghai, I just don't think he deserves to be happy--"

"It's been fucking decades. He's an asshole, but he's obviously going to, like, move on. He thinks you're dead, you know? And he can't have liked you much if he killed you. I'm just being honest. That's his fault 'cos you're a total catch, Leo, but... I don't think you should cry over it," admitted Keisuke, his eyes rolling at the glare Jessica sent him for his (somewhat brutal) honesty. Instead, he turned to Sanghai with a quiet grin, at least knowing that he was just as irked with Leo's tears as he himself was. "I could totally go for a drink though, we deserve to celebrate a little."

"...I want him dead. Th-That guy... he knows him somehow and he might be close to him and... and that's the plan, right? Get to people he's close to so he gets freaked out? I... I want to... to kill that guy he was with, tonight," announced Leopold quietly, his tears having ceased and replaced with a cold scowl. "Is that unreasonable of me? To want my ex-boyfriend to suffer after he, you know, dumped me in a ditch and caused my parents to hang themselves?"
 
“... I’m up for some beer,” Sanghai replied, both brows daied as he cautiously locked eyes with Keisuke. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t sort of tip-toe around Leopold and his situation, but that didn’t mean he didn’t get annoyed by it. Nonetheless, he still cared about the man.

“Hey, listen. We should let out our aggression by drinking ourselves to death. The worst part about our situation is that beer just tastes like fucking piss, but it gets me just as drunk. Let’s get some, like, vodka and go home?” He offered before digging his boots in the dirt. “I mean, do you, boo. I just want to drink.”
 
Despite the encouragement and the agreement to head into a bar or two for a drink, Leopold took the other's silence on the issue of Kyle with great offence. He did expect his friends to jump to agree with him, having been at his side since the 60s and therefore witnessed for themselves just how long he had wanted his revenge on his ex-boyfriend. The fact none of them seemed to want to help out now when he had a plan to move things closer to that irritated him.

"...So none of you want to help me kill that boy then? I get that none of you really... have a reason to get involved with Franky and all of this, but as my friends I thought... you were here to help me," he began slowly, his lips pursed as he shot them glares. "I can do this on my own if you're all getting cold feet."
 
“Weren’t you the one who said not to go right for the main source? I thought you wanted to be subtle at first,” the vampire reminded quietly, his attempt at a smile fading. “It’s just - I don’t want to, to be honest. We killed the chief of police, Leo. Isn’t that a lot already? Look, I support you either way, I just want you to know that. I just think you need to chill.”

Exhaling heavily, despite his warning, he knew it was all for naught. Leopold knew what he wanted, he always did. No matter what he said, he always needed to get what he wanted.
 
"You were the one who suggested we accelerate things, Sanghai. I wanted to be patient, but you insisted we move things along. Why you're protesting about this is ridiculous-- but go home. I can handle this myself. It's nice to know where you all stand though. It's... disappointing but eye-opening," the Polish man mumbled, refusing to acknowledge Jessica's attempt to lend her assistance. One of Leopold's main faults was his stubbornness, after all, and even though Jessica knew he would be alright come the morning, she knew that, for now, if was best to leave Leo have his moment. If that meant he went off in the night alone, so be it. She did worry about him, but she also had to remind herself that he was over a hundred years old, and could probably handle himself far better than she gave him credit for.

And Leo, as she predicted, was just fine by himself that night, having successfully caught up with Kyle and got his anger out on him. He hadn't killed him, however - though what he had done was still violent and depraved. After beating the innocent human, which did help relieve him of the anger he had built up, he decided to remove one of the human's fingers. If he really wanted to freak Franky out and get him to start growing paranoid, then sending a severed finger of someone he deeply cared about seemed like a solid plan. Whilst he could have killed Kyle and caused Franky distress, he didn't want to take that major step without his friends. Regardless how angry he had been with them, they were still like family to him, and he wasn't prepared to kill anyone without them at his side-- or at least without their agreement.

Thus, Kyle was at least allowed to live to tell the tale of the attack from the masked Leopold. Having been hospitalised, he spent the majority of the morning giving a statement to colleagues, relaying as much information as he could remember, before being allowed to finally rest again. Even if rest was the one thing he needed, he still found himself trying to sit up when spotting Franky enter, offering a smile.

"...I'm probably not going to get to work for a while, boss," he snorted, lifting his bandaged hand for emphasis-- even if the bruises and bloody cuts on his face was enough evidence. "...And hey, having nine fingers isn't too bad. I'd rather lose a finger than my life, so... uh... you didn't have to come, dude. I'm alright, really. Just... shaken up, I guess."
 
While Franky’s initial thought was anxiety, it soon turned to rage instead not long after. He knew the murders had at least something to do with him, he just had that sort of vibe, so he wasn’t too afraid to see Kyle in such a bad shape. In fact, he was expecting much worse. So, with a stoic face throughout his stroll through the medical wing, his face only changed to that of upset once settled once the chair besides Kyle properly.

“Jesus fucking Christ, Kyle! This is why you should have stayed in...” he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, sighing heavily. “Fucking - look, it’s okay. You take it easy, make sure you get better. I’ll... pay for all of the medical costs, okay? Seriously. I don’t want to get your ass killed, it ain’t worth it.”
 
"I know that now, obviously. Besides, I'm kinda lucky. I was only jumped by one of them. I think I'd be dead if they were all having a go. Look, I'm going to come and crash at your place. I'm still your guard and... the guy beating me up mentioned you and I want to at least be near you so I can protect you. I can still handle a gun and I'm sure I can manage to at least whack someone over the head with my truncheon, so... so I'll come and stay at your place for as long as is necessary, for your sake," the injured man nodded, as firmly as he could possibly manage without any pain setting in from the movement. He might be beaten and bruised, but he was very serious when it came to his job, especially when he was hired to protect someone he genuinely considered one of his best friends. If he was on the verge of death, he'd still want to be able to do his job and protect his friends.

"...I'm fine though, Franky. I got some information for the police, so it wasn't... totally useless. The guy had an accent, so that's something. And we know he has something against you, so... that'll help focus the investigation," he continued, his smile lighting at the fact that something useful had come from the beating. "Who have you pissed off, dude? Someone in business? Someone you didn't hire for a job at the company?"
 
"That's a pretty long list," he murmured as he held his head in his hands. After a moment of closing his eyes and really assessing the situation, he opened them and glared down at the floor when his anger seemed to rise again. Taking another deep breath, he offered a smile to the man to at least silently thank him for his hard work. After all, he did sacrifice a finger for him. He silently assessed Kyle's condition fully now, taking in the bad bruises and cuts.

"I'm sorry but you need at least a month on break," he declared simply. "I don't want you hurting yourself any more than you already have. You've done a lot for me, I don't want you to get more hurt because of me. You take a break, I'll pay off anything you need, and we'll go on from there. That isn't to say I don't want to spend time with you, of course. I just... don't want you to get attacked again. I know you might disagree but I can definitely handle my own. I'm tougher than you think, babe," he teased lightly.
 
"Oh come on, you're not invincible. I... don't really want to take a break, not now. I'm pretty useful and the station have already forced me to take a break. I can't go on a break from my other job, I'd have nothing to do and I want to lend a hand in catching the bastards, Franky. That's-- no. No, I'm not taking a break," he said defiantly, his lips pursed in genuine annoyance. His desperation to help, now he was personally involved, was so much that it clouded his better judgement. He wasn't really a help at the moment when he was in this state, and definitely more of a detriment. It was obviously best for him to rest it out and recuperate, but he refused to acknowledge that.

"...So I'm just supposed to go home and lay about idly? That's... it doesn't seem right. You could get killed and I'd have it on my conscience, that I was laying about at home while you were getting fucking murdered, Franky. they obviously have something against you, you'll be hurt and I... want to help stop that."
 
"I'll find another bodyguard in the meantime. I don't want you doing stupid while you're still healing up, okay? Sure, I'm not invincible but I'm a lot stronger than you think," he reassured, despite his stern tone. Taking Kyle's good hand in his, he decided to glance up at the television instead out of curiosity to see if the media had updated on the case. At least since he came in there was no media hounding him or Kyle, which was nice.

"Like I said, you need a month to recover. You lost a fucking finger,Kyle, do you not realize how bad that is? I never wanted this to happen, I feel... I feel responsible for this. Please just relax, for me? I'll visit you every day while you recover, okay? Clearly these people want to hurt me, and I don't want you to get hurt in the process," he declared finally.
 
"...Hey, it was my little finger. It's the most useless digit of them all. If I lost my middle finger, I'd be distraught. I wouldn't get to flip you off then, would I?" He smirked, at least trying to both lift the mood and distract himself from getting too depressed about the fact he had been forced into breaks from both his jobs. His jobs were often his life, after all, and the fact he couldn't help catch the gang was utterly horrible. However, he wasn't going to deliberately endanger himself further. As much as he hated it, resting up was the only thing he could do. And if he was going to be forced into resting, then he wanted to do some of that at Franky's place, if the offer was there for him. If he had to sit down all day, he wanted to do it at Franky's amazing apartment, on some luxury designer leather couch and in front of a 60" plasma TV.

Upon his release from hospital (on his insistence that he would honour the promise of plenty of bed-rest), he was genuinely looking forward to a day of relaxation watching the daytime shows he never usually had a chance to indulge in. However, it was his luck that he arrived back with Franky to the sight of a beautifully-decorated present on the vampire's doorstep; a present containing not only a taunting note to Franky, but Kyle's very own severed finger. The instant he peeked up from the couch to see the item, he -quite understandably- felt queasy, though the overriding emotion was anger. The audacity of the gang to go this far to taunt and try to frighten Franky was staggering.

"...We... We should tell the police," he said softly, managing to get over the initial wave of nausea. "Franky. We should call the police."
 
"... fuck," murmured Franky as he stared down at the finger. Ripping off the card, he carefully closed the box and set it on the side table before carefully sitting beside the other man, his lips pursing. "We'll call the police tomorrow. I... I know a lot of bad people, Kyle. I know who to talk to, so don't worry. I'll call the police in the morning but please... let me do some investigating myself. I mean, I've known the police station for years now. It doesn't take a genius to figure out their tactics," he easily lied before offering a smile of encouragement. When you' were actually a mob boss in a crime syndicate, you have the connections you need. It had been nearly 100 years later, but even to this day did Franky have strong connections to the underground of New York City.

"I'll get this out of here, yeah? Don't want this making you sick," he insisted before getting up again, slipping the neat box under a table. Out of sight out of mind, he hoped. "I'll order a pizza for you before heading out, okay? Don't open the door for anyone, lock the windows and just... don't leave unless I call you, understood? I can handle this and I have emergency contacts if anything happens. I'll keep you updated too, if you want."