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

Poison had only a couple of weeks left before he was supposed to murder Black Opal, but he wasn’t about to spend all that time moping over it. Instead, he was gonna get his fill of Frank that would be enough to satisfy him so that it’ll just be easier to just slice his throat and call it a day when the time finally came. Poison wasn’t sure if he was really going to be able to murder Frank in a couple of weeks or not, but that wasn’t what he planned on focusing on at the moment.

The second Poison had stepped back into his bedroom after his discussion with his brother about getting rid of Frank, he had undressed himself, awoken a slumbering Frank, and had fucked him right then and there. Naturally Frank kept telling him to stop, but Poison wasn’t about to listen to him anytime soon, and it wasn’t like Frank was trying to kick him away with his feet anyway, what with his wrists all locked in his cuffs. By the time Poison had finished sucking him off, Frank was pretty much putty in his hands and could no longer resist his touch. He allowed Poison to pound his ass into the mattress, before the red head collapsed next to him on the bed. They both fell into a short nap before Frank was roused awake by Poison’s groping hands and before he knew it, the man had pushed himself back into him. They had been spooning previously, so Poison had to hold up Frank’s leg as he thrusted in and out of him as if it were the last time. Frank was left clutching the sheets and screaming into his pillow when his prostate was hit. They came together before Poison carried him into the shower so that they could clean themselves before having lunch together on the bed.

This behavior went on for weeks. Poison’s cock was constantly shoved inside of Frank and it always made him black out from the intensity of the countless orgasms he’d receive. Poison wouldn’t stop, no matter how much Frank begged him to, and after a while he stopped objecting to his advances altogether. He didn’t have the energy to do anything else except to allow Poison to do what he wanted to do, and the red head did just that.

On one particular night, Frank woke up to find himself alone in bed with his wrists cuffed to the bed. He turned his head to find Poison scribbling away in his sketchbook in the corner of the room. Even though it was pitch black everywhere else in the room, minus the moonlight spilling onto the bed, Frank could sense that something wasn’t right in the air. He tried to call for Poison to find out what was going on, but his throat felt raw from screaming after his last orgasms. Giving himself a minute to lubricate his throat, Frank gave it a second try to grab Poison’s attention.

“P-Poison.” His voice came out weak and small, but Poison heard him loud and clear. He looked up from his sketchbook to see that Frank was awake. Tossing the book and pencil aside, Poison strode over to the bed to take a seat beside Frank on the bed. Brushing his hand over Frank’s pale chest, he could feel Frank’s heart rate begin to raise beneath his fingertips.

“What is it, Frankie?” Poison asked him softly, his face hidden in shadow.

Frank’s brow was furrowed as he looked up at him with exhaustion. “Something is wrong, I can feel it.”

Poison smirked down at him. “You’re just exhausted, that all. Go back to sleep for a few more hours Frankie. Trust me, you’re gonna need the energy.”

Before Poison could walk back to his sketchbook, Frank opened his mouth again to stop him. “What are you doing to me? Why are you doing this to me?”

Poison looked back down at Frank, unsure of what to tell him other than the truth. He never planned on telling Frank that he was going to die in a few weeks, yet right now he found himself wanting to be a little honest with him about what was going on. Of course telling him about his impending doom wasn’t going to be included in this discussion. “It’s complicated, Frankie.”

Frankie let out a tired sigh, and closed his eyes for a minute, before opening them back up with a look of desperation on his face. “Please tell me, Poison. I’m too tired to fight you. I don’t want to keep fighting you anymore when I don’t have the strength to.”

He looked so pathetically weak and fragile, Poison found himself opening up to him just a little bit more to help ease his suffering a little. “To answer your first question, I am fucking you. Why? Well, that’s because…I’m trying to get you out of my system.”

Frank tilted his head a bit. “Out of your system? What do you mean by that?”

Poison looked away to stare out at the night sky outside the window. “I’ve told you I wanted you before. Getting you out of my system is exactly what that means.”

Frank was silent before his slow mind put the pieces together. “You’re trying to…stop wanting me?”

Poison nodded. “Pretty much.”

“But why? Why have you decided to stop now?” Frank asked, not quite following him.

“Because.” Poison answered back, not really wanting to go in on that particular question.

Thinking on it, Frank eventually came up with his own idea of why Poison was doing what he was doing, and it had his eyes lighting up. “Are you done with me? A-Am I gonna get to go home soon? I-Is that what this all means? You’re finally letting me go home back to my family!”

Poison slowly lowered his head to stare down at the happy tears forming in Frank’s eyes. His heart fell down into his stomach at what Frank had just said about returning to his family, because he’d always pictured him staying with him until he was done with him and then of course he’d be killed off. Poison guessed in a way that murdering him would technically send him back to his family since he’ll be with them in spirit form or something. It was too much to hope that even in spirit Frank would haunt him and follow him wherever he went. But no, Frank would fly as fast as he could away from Poison and back to his beloved family. Poison was still irritated at his brother for not allowing him to keep Frank longer. I mean yeah he’s the younger brother but he’s also the smartest, and gives a damn about the other Killjoys unlike him, which makes him a more suitable leader than Poison. But still, did he have to call all the shots? Just because he ordered Frank to be executed doesn’t mean he has to be killed…does it? Poison mentally brushed those thoughts away. They only ever seem to prove one disappointing thing: Poison was still attached to Frank.

It wasn’t something new to him though. Poison had always had this attachment to Frank, which was why the kid was still breathing, and handcuffed to his bed. If he hadn’t cared for Frank he would have killed him long ago, especially when he started to act out and cause him and his brother a whole bunch of trouble with the other Killjoys. Yes, Poison had feelings for him, but he figured it had to be more from the lust he felt for Frank than anything else. Now that he’s had a taste of the forbidden fruit, Poison seemed to only want more, and more was what he got, but it still wasn’t enough. It had already been a week and his desire for Frank hadn’t faded even in the slightest. It was beginning to worry Poison immensely, and was starting to cloud his thoughts every moment of the day. What if he never stopped wanting Frank? What if when the time comes when he has to take Frank’s life, and he finds himself…hesitating? Poison never hesitated on killing anyone before, except for the old man that had drove Amelia, or whatever her name, was to the nearest rest stop. He had to know if the old man knew Frank’s whereabouts, and it turned out he didn’t, so he was disposed of without question…yet and still, he hesitated instead of just doing what he had been ordered to do in the first place.

Hesitation, and being a Killjoy doesn’t mix.

Poison turned his attention to more important matters of the naked body. Reaching over to grab the edge of the sheet covering Frank’s slender frame, Poison slowly pulled it down and off the bed. Frank didn’t have the energy to fight back, but he did let out a whimper that was a beg for mercy. Poison trailed his fingers over Frank’s chest once again until he reached one of his nipples. Gently, he rubbed his thumb against it, listening to Frank’s sharp intake of breathe and watching his nostrils flare.

“P-Poison…” Frank whimpered out, too exhausted to lifts his arms, much less try and scoot away from him.

As always, Poison didn’t listen to him, and instead got off the bed to undress himself in front of Frank. As tired as he was, Frank couldn’t help but be blown away by his pale muscles and his perfect form. The man was a walking piece of art…not that he would ever say it out loud to anyone.

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, you don’t have to do anything. Let me take care of you.” Poison whispered to Frank as he crawled back onto the bed and lowered himself in between Frank’s legs.