I'm the Last One That You'll Ever Remember

Breathless from exertion, Gerard disintegrated onto the bed to relax from yet another night of love making with his baby mama, Frank. His skin sparkled beneath the moonlight splitting through between the drawn curtains as he laid on his back, his limbs feeling like jello along with his depleted strength. His cherry red hair held to the perspiration on his face as his swollen parted lips took in gusts of air into his lungs. His heart hammered in his chest from both exercise and from the euphoria he's only been able to find buried between Frank's legs. Sex was sex with everybody else. Sex with Frank was another worldly euphoric encounter that Gerard never wanted to endure without.

Beside him, he assumed was where his lover laid boneless after receiving multiple explosive orgasms, but when he leisurely turned his head to check on him through half-opened eyes, he discovered that he had somehow salvaged his abandoned sketchbook and was lying on his side with it between them, browsing through his work. It was instinctive for him to feel an imperative obligation to rescue the book away from him, and preserve it from his snooping eyes. When you lived in a house of meddlesome murderers, you had to defend the things that meant the most to you from others who couldn't fathom the concept of privacy. But this wasn't any of his Killjoy members, this was Frank, the man he loved. Besides, anything he unearthed in there weren't exactly guarded secrets, more like a family album, and intimate moments.

Turning on his side to face Frank, Gerard braced his head up with his hand and examined his lover's face that was spotlighted by the moonlight permeating through the divisions in the curtains. It was just like how they first met, almost. Under the moonlight. “Whatcha got there, sugar?”

“Nothing.” Frank smiled tenderly at the endearment, but his hazel eyes were fixated on the illustrations Gerard had sketched when he thought others weren't watching him. One page was of the kids eating together at their kiddie table, their eyes on a bird that had just landed in the backyard in plain sight. The second page was of Frank lounging on the couch with his kids the day they were watching 'Chicken Little'. The third was of Jasiah on his changing table laughing up at Gerard who had been changing him. The last few were off Venetia adorned as a Princess on the playground near their house, Lorenzo cramming his face at the picnic table, and Jasiah getting kisses from Frank. It was a photo album all drawn up in a sketchbook, and it was impeccable work. Frank couldn't deny his jealousy of never obtaining a gift like this himself. If so, he'd be drawing everything and everyone in sight all the time. “Wow, Gee, this is...this is astounding work! I'm so jea-”

Gerard bit back a smile when Frank turned the page and froze, his cheeks coloring a rosy pink at the same time his big eyes magnified even further. Knowing exactly what explicit sketches he located, Gerard gave him a moment to take in the next several pages in before pressing. “You were saying?”

“I-I was...” Frank droned off, unable to finish speaking. The likenesses his mind was taking in page after page were getting more explicit it was becoming troublesome to instruct his thoughts to concentrate on anything else. He was so fascinated, yet embarrassed and...not that it was anything new, but turned on. “...was saying?”

“Yes, you were saying something before you stopped.” Gerard's eyes remained glued on Frank's face, entranced by the emotions, that were so receptive to everything he did, wash over his face. He didn't have to look down at the pages Frank was thumbing through because his face told him everything he needed to know. “What was it?”

“What was what?” Frank finally found the strength to tear his eyes away from the artworks of the two of them intimately together...mainly of them naked. He could barely look at Gerard now that he'd observed the way they looked when they made love, and so he hid behind his fringe until he could.

“What you were going to say about my artwork?” Gerard reiterated steadily, smirking at him. “You said they were spectacular.”

“They are!” Frank coincided intensely until he cited the sketches he had seen of them. He felt his cheeks pinked red hot again, and murmured to himself. “Perhaps too good.”

“You think so? Why?” Gerard finally lowered his eyes downward to the work of art he had invented. It was one of many that were plucked from his recollections of the many times they'd had sex together thus far. This one had Frank mounting his lap naked, glittering with sweat with his head thrown back, his face contorted in a cry of pleasure as he adhered to Gerard's shoulders and to the back of his head. Gerard had his arms draped tightly around Frank, his hair mussed, his cock balls deep into his lover, and his smooth pink nipple between his teeth. Only a person who was blind could revoke that it was them on the page, that's how precise he made the sketch, and he had completed it deliberately. He needed these pages of memories just in case something jeopardized his chance at being a family man and husband. Even to this day it was still remarkable to believe that he, Poison of the Killjoys, wanted to relinquish his blades and thirst for murder to become an upstanding citizen, loving father, and faithful husband. “Is it because that's clearly your nipple I'm biting on?”

“GEE!” Frank gasped before reaching out to sock his lover on the arm. There was no one else awake in the house nd yet they might as well be in a theater with how flustered he was. “You don't have to point that shit out, man, I can see it for myself!”

Gerard chuckled and apologized. “Forgive me, sugar. I was just trying to make conversation.”

There was a long lapse as Frank gallantly flipped through the last remaining sketches until he reached dozens of empty pages. He was sure he looked like a tomato when he flipped all the way back to the page with Frank and his children on the couch watching a movie together. He dawdled there, delicately tracing Lorenzo's face. His brows furrowed together as to why Gerard drew so much of their lives in his book. Surely there were other splendors to make art out of outside their home. “Gee?”

“Yes?” Gerard responded, his smile gone now that Frank seemed to be sobering up.

“Why did you draw all of these?” Frank asked him, lifting his inquisitive eyes to his. “Almost every single moments that's past since you started your week here is in this book. Why did you feel the need to do that? Were you bored or something?”

Gerard smiled tenderly across the sketchbook at him. His eyes saturated with adoration for this small pregnant man. Reaching out, he placed a hand on his slight protruding belly, and began to rub it. “No, I was never bored, my love. How could I have been from watching you all day?”

“Well then why did you make all of these if you weren't bored?” Frank restated his question.

Pausing for a moment, Gerard ultimately told him while his eyes tracked the caressing of his hand over Frank's pregnant belly. “It was meant to be a precaution. A just in case scenario, I guess you can say.”

Frank frowned at that. “Just in case what?”

“In case you decided me being a part of this family wasn't the right choice after all...” Gerard confided, the sorrow thick in his voice. He was the one now shielding behind his long cherry hair. “...and told me to leave.”

“Oh.” Frank whispered back even quietly. He was afraid if he said anymore his voice would break. Being pregnant made any emotion 10x more dramatic. If anything made him sad, he could bawl like a baby on the spot. It got worse the farther along he got in his pregnancy to the poibt where his father had found it often entertaining and had to hide in the background to chuckle in private so as not to upset him. “I see.”

“But like I said before, it would have taken the police to remove me from your side.” Gerard took a deep breath and raised his eyes to Frank's luminous face. “There would have been no other way since I wouldn't listen to you in the first place anyway. You know how stubborn I can be.”

Frank suddenly giggled from the memories. “Oh yeah, I remember!”

“So keep that in mind when you plan to get rid of me.” Gerard recommended, his gaze returning to Frank's belly. “Call the police.”

“But I don't want to have to do that.” Frank sighed to him, reaching down to deposit his hand over Gerard's much larger one. Their eyes locked on one another. “I don't want you to go, Gerard.”

“You don't?” Gerard inquired, hope in his voice as well in his light brown eyes.

“No, I don't.” Frank verified then tried to make light of the daunting situation by grinning at him. “So don't you go about giving me a reason to just in case, you hear me?”

“I hear you.” Gerard smirked back before thrusting the sketchbook out from between them to roll warily onto his squealing lover. He began to scatter ecstatic kisses everywhere he could reach. “I hear you, loud and clear.”