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

Poison stomped through the forest to the Killjoy house in a the blackest of moods that had never been seen before by his unfortunate team members. As he stomped past the many evergreens while partly illuminated by the moonlight in the sky, Poison tried to ignore the ache in his pounding heart and focused on the anger that kept his hands permanently curled into fists at his side. He couldn’t believe he had wasted two years pining over Frank Iero! That kid had been nothing but trouble from the beginning, everyone knew it, but him. He chose to see the beauty in those big hazel eyes and become obsessed with his perfect form with and without clothes on. He allowed Frank’s intoxicating scent to invade his senses and the sound of his voice to become a melody that welcomely played in his mind even in the deepest of dreams. And that smile…that damn intoxicating smile that played him for a fool not only in front of all the Killjoys but also to himself. Poison felt like all this time he had been the puppet and Frank was the puppeteer.

“Fuck!” Poison spat during his walk before turning to send his fist flying into the trunk of the nearest tree without a care. The pain that shot through his hand and made it throb was a welcome to the pain in his chest that he refused to spare any time to figure out what it was. He didn’t have the care…and besides, a part of him already had an inkling as to why his heart was in pain. Trudging through the rest of the way, Poison exited the woods to glare upon the lake house his Killjoy family was sheltered in. For the first time, Poison found himself wishing he could belong somewhere…somewhere other than here with a band of murderous people. Sighing, Poison continued striding over to the lake house, yanked the front door open almost off it’s hinges, and stepped into the house, slamming the door shut behind his back.

“Sup?” Drummer mumbled to him in mid-walk before he took a turn to enter the living room with a big bowl of Cheez-Its.

Poison ignored him, and everyone else for that matter that greeted him or attempted to talk to him.

“Hey, Poison, where you’ve been hiding?” Rouge giggled as he too was headed to the living room with Iris close behind him.

“We’re watching an Avenger movie, care to join?” Iris began to ask before Poison passed him in silence. “Or not...”

Heading for the stair, Poison was about to jog up the steps until someone else decided to block his route. With an irritated sigh, Poison lifted his eyes to glare up at Pastel who had been coming down the stairs with Citrus and Basil. Pastel place a hand over Basil who had her arm circled through hers and stepped forward to stand two steps in front of him. “Poison, you’re back…I’ve been trying to get ahold of you for a while now. Did you receive any of my calls or texts?”
Poison remained silent and moved past her to go upstairs to his bedroom. All he wanted was peace, and Basil and Citrus could see that as they quickly jumped aside so he wouldn’t mow through them for refusing to move out of the way. Pastel, however, was a totally different annoying and clingy story. She boldly reached out and grabbed onto the sleeve of his black leather jacket. Poison froze with rage before his light brown eyes snapped down to glare at her. “Let. Go.”

“What happened to you out there? I can tell something is wrong.” Pastel question with genuine concern as she climbed up a step to be closer to him, her eyes glued on his face. “You can tell me anything, Poison, you already know you that.”

As much as she openly cared about him, Poison could never reciprocate those feelings…not that he ever really tried. Tensing up, his every intention was to yank his arm out of her hold and order her to mind her own business, but then a thought came to his mind. Poison has been obsessed over Frank Iero for a long time, enough to give him his very own Killjoy name, Black Opal that he never appreciated. Perhaps what took place that night, Frank breaking up with him after two months of secretly dating behind his parents back, was meant to happen. Instead of seeking vengeance and blood, Poison should seek a way out, maybe even another victim to become obsessed with.

Pastel was already obsessed with him so why couldn’t he try and become obsessed with her too? True, she wasn’t Frank Iero but she was still a…thing he had to put up with every day. Being around her daily might keep him distracted at all times of the day from thinking of his Black Opal ever again. No longer staring at her murderously, but not at all any softer, Poison let out a sigh as he gently slipped his hands into Pastel’s, shocking her as their fingers link together in union. “Fine. Let me show you what’s wrong.”

“O-Okay.” Pastel stuttered amorously and allowed him to pull her along after him up into his room. Poison wasn’t the kind of guy to hold hands so him taking hers just now was the equivalent of asking her to marry him.

In his mind, Poison repeatedly swore to himself over and over again that he was going to leave Frank behind once and for all and focus solely on needing Pastel as badly as he once needed Frank. He led her into his room and closed the door behind her before turning around to face her. It wasn’t a surprise that she was already unbuttoning her shirt, all they’ve ever had was sex between each other, really. Reaching down, Poison got to work on taking off his own clothes in mute silence and complete disinterest. By the time he was done, Pastel was waiting for him on his bed, lying on her side completely naked.

Reaching her arms out to him, Pastel beckoned him to her as if they were both lovers that mutually had an sexual interest in each other. “Come to me, Poison…it’s been awhile since we last made love...”

Poison held back his response that if it were up to him they wouldn’t be coming together at all. He had to remember he had to get over Frank, and Pastel was the way to do it. Walking over to the bed, Poison sat down beside her after taking one of her hands in his. Her skin was pale like his but…it wasn’t the same. Her skin was too soft. Frank had soft skin to, but it wasn’t femininely soft, if that made sense.

Confidently, Pastel sat up and allowed her hands to run over his body without his consent. Her lips ghosted over his pale skin in light kisses that were meant to worship every inch of him. “God, I’ve missed this, didn’t you?” She let out a giggle against his collarbone. “Well, of course you did! You’re back here with me, aren’t you?”

Fighting the urge to say otherwise, Poison placed one hand on her hip and the other on her back…and that’s where they remained. He closed his eyes in an attempt to lose himself in her touch, to feel the pleasure because he knew it was there despite it not coming from Frank. The sensation was so damn minute though that Poison might as well have been too physically paralyzed to feel it. With Frank everything was so intense, sweaty, sexy and heavy like a drug. With Pastel he just couldn’t find that same kind of feeling that would make it easier for him to get lost in forever.

“I don’t want you to stay away from me ever again, Poison. Do you hear me?” Pastel lifted her head from nibbling on his ear and looked him in the eye, her brown ones heavy with lust. Her skin was flushed pink from the pleasure coursing through her, and her lips were parted to suck in air because her breath was already becoming shallow. “Don’t leave me alone without you…”

Not being able to verbally promise her such a ridiculous request, Poison opened his eyes to look down at her and nod. He felt so empty when they came together like this it was almost as if he was corpse. Fast, slow, savoring, or racing to get to their orgasms, it all felt the same to him. All of it was empty.

“Good.” Pastel smiled up at him as she ran her fingers through his still black hair. “…I love you, Poison.”

Poison closed his eyes in response, shutting her image out so he could get this over with. Leaning over, he pressed his lips against hers, hoping she’d shut up. He was pleased when she moaned and wrapped her arms around his neck, forgetting all about her unnecessary confession. Lowering them down onto the bed, Poison moved over her body to touch and kiss her pale skin that tasted so bland compared to Frank’s richness in flavor. Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to banish Frank’s name from his mind as he trailed his lips down her body.

“P-Poison…it’s already been too long. I-I need you now!” Pastel whined as she felt his lips brush over her breasts.

Relieved that it’s gonna be quick, Poison sat up and searching his drawers for a condom. Finding one, he tried to roll it on, but he was too soft. “Fuck.” He muttered to himself, ignoring her moan at his profanity. She probably thought he was excited to enter her body, but according to his dick he was far from it. Breaking his vow for only a minute, Poison thought of Frank as he touched himself and immediately became so rock hard it made him throw his head back and moan with genuine pleasure.

“B-Baby, c’mon! Don’t hog it all to yourself. Give me some too.” Pastel whined, her lips forming into a pout as her brown eyes beg for release.

Eager to cum, Poison rolled the condom on and thrusted into her body without any preparation, not that she needed any. Pastel cried out and instantly came around him. Poison raced to his orgasm, images of Frank’s naked body panting in pleasure beneath him being the only reason he exploded into the condom that night.