Frank stared into the vast refrigerator, his eyes roving over the food, somewhat lost on what he was going to cook for dinner tonight. Gerard had offered a simple 'surprise me' as he sat at the breakfast bar after changing out of his suit. He appeared in a well-worn Siouxsie Sioux t-shirt and dark-wash jeans, his beautiful bare feet resting against the bar on the stool he had perched himself on. Gerard settled down with some work and mail to go through, tending to them while Frank went about his usual business of cooking.

This was definitely something that Frank took great pleasure in doing recently; he enjoyed cooking for Gerard more than he did running after him every morning in a sweaty attempt to keep up with his athletic Master. Finally, he had the opportunity to cook every day without having someone worrying that he was going to do it all wrong. Part of the fun was deciding what he was going to cook and the fact that Gerard usually didn't know what he wanted to eat gave Frank more of a choice and variety. He picked up a tied-off bunch of spinach leaves and gave them a cursory sniff, thinking for a second before he decided against it, muttering a 'no' to himself before placing the vegetable back in the fridge

Frank eventually began to piece together a meal in his head, smelling a lemon before doing the same with an onion, mumbling a 'yes' to himself as he set the food down on the counter by the fridge.

"I've noticed something," Gerard piped up from where he was sitting. Frank looked out from where he was, practically head first in the fridge. Gerard didn't even look up from where he was writing something on a piece of paper, flipping it over before doing the same on more, "You talk to yourself."

"O-Oh, sorry," Frank stammered, blushing as he held a bulb of garlic in his hand. He had never noticed it before. He set the garlic down as he eyed his Master, "Do I?"

"Don't apologize for it. I've just noticed it recently, more when you're at home than at work," Gerard commented, looking up at Frank briefly, taking a moment to see just how embarrassed he looked while clutching at a bell pepper, "Please don't look so embarrassed either, my boy. I was merely making an observation."

"No one usually tells me that I talk to myself. Ever, actually" Frank admitted, placing the red pepper down on the counter with the rest of the food he was picking. He went back to choosing more food, finding that it was helping him remain calm, "I mean, I zone out on the fact that I do it. R-" Frank stopped himself, knowing not to mention a name that would probably anger his Master, "Someone used to say that I was weird for doing it, but I could never stop myself."

"There is nothing weird about talking to yourself," Gerard reassured Frank as he went back to looking over the papers in front of him. "Some of the smartest people talked to themselves. One judgmental ex's opinion on a quirk of yours is something that you should never take to heart."

Frank smiled as he grabbed some fennel out of the salad drawer, holding it under his nose, sniffing at it before smelling it combined with the lemon and garlic; the three ingredients had an amazingly fresh scent. He placed all three vegetables down on the counter, "I guess that is reassuring. I always thought that maybe I was just a little insane for doing it."

"Talking to yourself is not a sign of insanity," Gerard set his pen down on the counter, removing his glasses before placing them neatly on his papers, "People just assume that as a given fact- Especially ones that don't do it themselves. They forget that once upon a time they used to talk to themselves, practicing and mimicking words as a baby because that is how we learn to communicate. We may be born to communicate, but talking to ourselves is how we develop our language and ability to speak. It's how I learned French.."

"You seem to know a lot about this." Frank smiled as he grabbed some butter and prawns from the fridge, closing it behind him before he moved everything onto the counter near the stoves so he could begin preparing.

"Because I find it fascinating," Gerard explained, ignoring his work while they talked, watching Frank grab some rice from a cupboard before getting out the utensils that he needed, "As I said, some of the smartest people talk to themselves. Einstein was known for talking to himself. Not much of a social butterfly, preferring his own company and his own words."

"I don't think you can say that, because I talk to myself means, that I'm smart." Frank snorted, shaking his head softly as he began to cut up the fennel. The butter was melting in the pan beside a pot of water waiting to boil.

"Did you find yourself thinking more clearly just then when you were saying 'yes' and 'no' to each item that you picked out of the fridge?" Gerard questioned curiously as Frank came to realize that his Master was right. It was as though he had been inside Frank's head the entire time.

"Well, yeah," Frank answered with a shrug as he scraped the fennel aside to chop another handful, "But that means nothing."

"But it means everything, pup," Gerard carried on as Frank began cutting up the onion and garlic, dicing them both with relative skill. He tilted the cutting board and slid the ingredients into the heated pan, a soft sizzling sounded around them as Gerard continued, "Research shows that people who talk to themselves through tasks are able to think more clearly about what they want to achieve. The end result is more tangible to them. To yourself, I assume."

"Yeah, because I know at the end I have to make you dinner." Frank looked over at Gerard with an impish smile, watching his Master shake his head at the simple answer he had been given.

"Look at it this way," Gerard cleared his throat as he got up from the barstool, walking over to the fridge to get himself a drink, "You have the task of making dinner, correct?"

"Yes, sir." Frank nodded, stirring onion, garlic and fennel in the pan before taking it off the heat, turning to face Gerard for a second, listening to the cooking rice boil in the large steel pot.

"Most dinners I give you the same answer: 'surprise me'. This is because I never know what I want to eat and you, my boy, seem to have an excellent skill when it comes to cooking," Gerard complimented as the warm blush returned to his face while he stood against the counter, "So, my guess is, when I give you a vague answer to your question of what I would like for dinner, your moment of talking to yourself in the fridge helps to clarify your thoughts. You tend to what's important and help firm up any decisions that you consider while you're sniffing at my salad drawer."

"How the fuck-" Frank breathed out, not quite sure how Gerard had put a finger on why he did what he did. He widened his eyes and shook his head, walking towards the fridge to grab a few more items for dinner that he knew would work well, "You're good- Too fucking good with this."

"It's simple, though. If you end up faced with a problem, then you work out how to solve it. Some people just choose to vocalize how they are going to achieve what they need to, like yourself, my boy." Gerard spoke before he took a sip from the bottle of water he had retrieved from the fridge. He walked back to his seat and sat back down.

"So, I could say out loud what I want, for example, the bowls that I'm going to put dinner in," Frank began to work with Gerard's hypothesis, trying to understand what he was saying while he added the strained rice to the pan. He quickly grabbed a bottle of white wine from the wine rack on the other side of the kitchen to use while cooking because the idea sounded amazing. He hadn't said it out loud, but he had thought out loud in his head, thinking that the Sauvignon Blanc would complement the food perfectly. He uncorked it and poured some generously into the pan, watching it flame as the alcohol evaporated. He lifted the pan by the handle and gave the contents a generous shake before he set it down, "And I would be able to achieve what I want more easily because I have said it out loud?"

"If you want something then saying it out loud can help you, but only if you know how it looks. In other words, you can't make sense of what you want without knowing what you want." Gerard added casually after drinking more water, setting the bottle down before continuing to sign the papers while they talked.

"But that makes no sense..."

"It makes perfect sense," Gerard interjected swiftly when Frank looked utterly confused while he poured more wine into pan, the wonderful smell of dinner cooking filling the room, "If you don't know what your desired objective looked like then saying it out loud will have either no effect on helping you or it might actually slow you down. If, however, you do know that a bowl is a bowl then you're activating visual properties in your brain to help you find the bowls you need."

Frank opened his mouth to speak, feeling a swell of pride in him over how Gerard had been able to talk about this so fluidly. His Master wasn't just someone to whom he could admit that he was physically attracted. He looked over at his casually-dressed Master, trying to remain focused so he didn't burn their dinner. Actually being able to hold an intellectual conversation with him like this was something that happened on a daily basis and Frank knew that he was just as attracted to the brains that his Master had along with who he was and how he looked and what he did to behind closed doors. Frank stirred the steadily pink-hued prawn with a wooden spoon, "How do you know so much stuff about this?"

"Because I learn about things that interest me," Gerard answered with a smile and toyed with his pen, "You being one of my main interests. Your wonderful quirk of talking to yourself had me curious about why you might do it. I read and learned that your idiosyncrasy is nothing that you need to be ashamed of. If anything, it proves to me just how intelligent you really are."

Frank's cheeks immediately bypassed pink and settled right into a brilliant shade of scarlet. His eyes met Gerard's for a second before looking back at the food that he was cooking, nearly burning it because he had taken his eyes off it for a little too long. Being Gerard's apparent main interest caught Frank completely off guard, his chest doing something all but fluttery as he turned the stovetop down and removed the pan from the heat. It was like the time Gerard had called him 'prince' while he was completing his contract. This time Frank may not have been running away due to shock and panic setting in quicker than he had expected. There were no tears, no painful reminder of how Ryan had made it mentally impossible for him to accept that Gerard cared about him and was genuinely interested in him, and not just interested in him being his submissive. Frank took the kind and weighted words a lot easier this time, hoping that he wasn't blushing, even though he could feel it. He smiled at Gerard before he went back to cooking and Gerard went back to the paperwork he was going through.

As he prepared to serve their dinner, getting bowls and cutlery out of the cabinets, Gerard sighed, his brow furrowed with frustration as he read over the papers in front of him, "Je suis sur il a déjouais donne. Pourquoi y a-t-il deux?"

[I swear he already donated. Why are there two here?]

The sudden flare of French had Frank smiling; Gerard always spoke so fluently and articulately, even if Frank didn't understand one of the languages. He took a shine to the foreign language, picking up only a few basic words, preferring to listen to Gerard speak his second language. Frank loved how he sounded when the words slid off his tongue like honey, each syllable and accent having a wonderful effect on Frank. Gerard probably could have told Frank the dullest thing in French and he would have eaten up the alien words tremendously.

Frank continued to smile as he picked up the cutlery before making his way over to the breakfast bar. In all the time he had been with Gerard, part of him had wanted to impress him by coming out with something that only he would understand; something that would take Gerard by surprise. Frank had considered what he could say to his Master, but came up with nothing for a while, keeping his little idea hidden away until he found the perfect thing. Frank adored what his Dominant did to him, and worshipped the ground on which he walked. Without Gerard, there wouldn't have been anything like this; Gerard was his everything. Sun and moon. Light and dark. The good and bad in his life- Dependent on how Frank had behaved on a daily basis.

The words sat on Frank's tongue a little more excitedly than he expected them to be. Frank had wanted to play it completely cool, even though his stomach was currently churning nervously like a whirlpool. His mouth went dry as he kept his eyes down, coming to be on the right side of Gerard as he set his master cutlery down to the side of his papers.

"Dinner will be ready in a few minutes," Frank announced as he lay his own cutlery down next to Gerard, who seemed utterly exasperated while he looked through his papers, muttering out a 'thank you' to Frank while he continued to scan the work, not realizing that Frank was actually about to say something else, but he finally added in, "Mon Apollon."

Gerard stopped reading in an instant, holding a sheet of paper half folded over as he looked at Frank, seeing innocence plastered across his face, even though Frank knew that he had said. Gerard blinked as he cautiously asked, "What did you just say?"

"Hmm?" Frank looked at Gerard with feigned nonchalance, walking behind him to make his way back to the food that he needed to dish up, "I was just letting you know that dinner's nearly ready."

"No... The other thing." Gerard pushed as he got up from his stool to try and grab at the back of Frank's shirt to stop him and pull him back, but Frank was already back around the counter before Gerard could stop him. Gerard walked over to his submissive, who was checking on the food on the stove. Frank jumped a little when his Master came up behind him in silence, his slender hands on Frank's waist in a firm but tender grip.

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," Frank responded coyly, not expecting the sudden feeling of arms wrapping around his chest to hold him close while Gerard lay his chin on Frank's shoulder.

"I think you do know what I'm talking about, boy," Gerard purred in Frank's ear, making him groan quietly, wanting to rest his head back against Gerard while he held onto him tightly. His one hand was holding onto Frank's shirt while the other splayed out flat against his stomach, "You are a lot cleverer than you let on, and I know this. You cannot fool me, Frank, especially when it comes to a language you know I speak."

Frank hummed when he felt lips on his neck, peppering his skin with kisses, making his knees feel weak as Gerard's grip on his shirt tightened and his other hand kept him firmly in place. Gerard asked again, words warm against Frank's throat, "What did you say, boy? Answer me." Frank held onto the counter, his grip tightening when Gerard was making shivers run down his spine. More kisses were trailed across the side and back of his neck, this softer side of Gerard showing itself and making Frank feel like he was melting against his Master.

"Mon... Apollon." Frank answered breathlessly, one hand coming away from the counter to hold Gerard's hand that was still resting on his stomach. Frank leaned his head back against Gerard's shoulder, swallowing as a whimper lingered in his throat when tongue lapped at his neck, sparking sensitive electricity under Frank's skin.

"Mon Apollon," Gerard repeated, his accent made the words sound so much more meaningful than when Frank had said it initially, "You do know that I know what that means, don't you?"

"Y-Yeah..." Frank barely managed to whisper as he shivered in his Dominant's arms.

"My Apollo," Gerard breathed right in Frank's ear, the translation making Frank's insides twist and knot up when he acknowledged his own feelings for the man holding him, "My boy, did you learn French for me?"

Frank blushed because he knew that he had done it purposely for Gerard. It may have only been two words of French that Frank had actually said, but it was more than his brain had taken in when he was taking the lesson in high school. It was more than he had ever bothered to remember before because it was for Gerard- His Apollo. His God. The one who took the bad pain away and made him feel like he belonged.

"Maybe," Frank squirmed nervously. Gerard held him tighter, pressing a kiss to Frank's neck to calm him down. Frank had jumped the gun, thinking that his Dominant might not have liked it, but the way Gerard's lips brushed against his skin, warm and somewhat softer than usual, it made him think otherwise.

"Why did you choose that?" Gerard continued to question, Something that seemed so out of the blue for the boy who had once run out of the room over the mention of him being a prince to Gerard.

Because you are my world, Frank thought. The be-all and end-all of all of what he had and only wanted; Frank just couldn't find it in him to say exactly how he felt. After having been fucked up so much by his past one and only experience, Frank struggled with being honest.

"Because," Frank stammered nervously. He knew that he could have given some weak reason, but then he wouldn't have been honest, and he wouldn't have said how he really felt. Gerard continued to hold him from behind, slipping his hand from underneath Frank's so he could rest it on top, fingers locking together while he waited for Frank to answer, "Well, because you mean the world to me... a-and... I didn't know h-how to say it before..."

Gerard hummed in response, evidently loving how Frank was finally comfortable enough to open up to him about how he felt. Frank knew that Gerard could still sense how he felt a little tense in his arms, but he was relaxing slowly- both in their relationship and in the moment- as Gerard slipped the neck of Frank's shirt out of the way, kissing the juncture of his throat.

"Well, I like it," Gerard admitted with a smile and Frank keened happily; to him, it was wholly appropriate. Gerard was worthy of that, and more, in Frank's eyes, "Does that mean you would like a nickname, pup?"

Frank hadn't even considered that. He had gotten so used to being called 'boy' and whatever other variations Gerard liked to throw in every now and again that the thought of him actually having some sort of nickname given by Gerard seemed unusual, "But don't I already have enough of them? Y'know, boy, pup, runt, the other ones you call me."

"My boy, those are not nicknames that could even be put on a high enough pedestal. They are terms in the lifestyle. I may call you 'boy' or any of the other contradistinction on a day-to-day basis, but it doesn't mean that I can't find something more fitting for you," Gerard explained, making Frank twist in his Master's grip to look at him in the corner of his eye, "Would you like a nickname?"

"I-I don't know," Frank stumbled on his words, thinking about it for a second until a smokey, burning smell hit his nose, "Ah shit, the food." Frank released himself from Gerard, grabbing at a towel before pulling the tray of food he had been cooking out from under the grill. Frank dropped the tray down on the counter, cursing under his breath when he caught his thumb on the hot metal, burning himself, "Ow, son of a fuck. Ow. Ow, ow, ow, motherf-"

"Is everything okay?" Gerard asked as Frank immediately stuck his thumb in his mouth in a poor attempt to stop it from hurting, "You do know that is not how you deal with a burn- Come here." Gerard sighed, grabbing Frank by the wrist, shaking his head while he tugged him over to the sink.

Frank hissed when Gerard opened the cold faucet, holding his submissive's hand under the stream of ice-cold water. Frank's instinct was to pull away, knowing that he would eventually be fine but he was going to have to deal with a throbbing and overly hot thumb for the next few hours. Gerard wasn't letting go even when Frank squirmed at the feel of the cold water that started to sting his skin.

Gerard examined Frank's hand as he closed the water, and let go, allowing Frank to move his hand away. Gerard pursed his lips, "You need to be more careful, boy,"

"You need to stop being such a good distraction, sir." Frank retorted as he carefully dried his hand, tossing the towel to one side before he looked over at the tray of food. His face fell when he saw that the food hadn't quite turned black but it probably wouldn't taste very good, "Well, I hope you like burned food..."

"I'm sure it will be better than anything I can cook," Gerard answered positively with a smile, taking hold of Frank's hand, being careful not to catch his injured thumb before he brought Franks hand up to his lips, "My prince."

"O-Oh," Frank breathed out, watching Gerard as he pressed a tender kiss to his thumb, the warmth of Gerard's lips against his frozen thumb caught him off guard. The nickname had, too, but this time Frank wasn't panicking. He was shocked at the use of the name that Gerard had once said to him, but this time it made his insides warm and his head spin in the best way possible; the affection so exclusively warranted. Frank swallowed, "You've said that one before..."

"I know I have, boy," Gerard nodded, pressing another kiss to the pad of Frank's thumb, "And it still stands true. I can't have such a meaningful nickname without you having one that is just as, if not more, fitting."

"I don't know what to say," Frank stammered out, watching as Gerard kissed each pad on his fingers before pressing one more kiss to the palm of his hand.

"Do you like it?" Gerard questioned, glancing from his submissive's tattooed hand up to his eyes, "I know how you were about it before. I have always seen you as a prince from the moment I told you, but your disappearance and how you admitted to getting scared, it made me hesitate. My feelings towards you have not changed, but if you need more time to adjust to it then remember, I am a patient man."

"No, it's fine," Frank reassured with a nod, finally warming up to the affection and accepting it because it was completely different in more ways than one, "I do, I do like it...I just didn't know you had it in you be such a romantic."

"I may be who I am, that will never change, but I will always surprise you," Gerard reminded before adding, "Now, shall we eat before dinner goes cold?"

"Oh, yeah," Frank felt the bubble around them pop as he shifted away from Gerard to retrieve the bowls, "It probably will be cold now though, sorry."

"Don't apologize," Gerard waved a dismissive hand as he went back to the bar and cleared his work back into his briefcase with a knowing smile, "Apparently you had a distraction."

"That I did," Frank beamed as he spooned their dinner into bowls, placing some of the unfortunately burnt prawns on top of his Master's dinner before bringing both bowls over to the bar, "Dinner is served, Mon Apollon."

"Thank you, my prince," Gerard responded as Frank set his food down in front of him, sitting down next to Gerard while he waited with bated breath, watching Gerard pick up his cutlery to begin eating, hoping and praying that it was going to be okay, "It's been a while since I've had risotto."

"I hope it's okay." Frank winced, watching as Gerard took a bite, chewing slowly before pointing at his dinner with his fork.

"What is it, boy?"

"Lemon and fennel risotto," Frank told him as he practically held his breath to find out if it was still edible. His lips turned down in the corners, "Well... It's supposed to be."

"This is amazing," Gerard praised, "I can't begin to understand how you do it, but this is delicious. You have a gift for cooking, my boy."

"I wouldn't put it that way," Frank blushed deeply, averting his gaze from Gerard's proud stare, "I mean, I'm a little rusty- May I eat, sir?"

"Of course," Gerard waved his fork towards Frank's dinner, "If this is rusty then you must be a phenomenal chef. You could do something with a talent like that- Cook professionally. I could see you being a head chef in some high-class restaurant with a skill like that."

"Oh, I don't know..." Frank replied modestly, playing with his food while they talked, "I mean, if I was then who would be your assistant? How would you cope without me?"

"I'm sure I could cope with having you in other aspects of my life," Gerard pointed out suggestively, making Frank blush more when his Master's hand came to squeeze the top of his thigh, "I will always have my prince."

Frank began to eat and the two of them went silent while they did so. Gerard took another bite out of his dinner before he dropped his fork down almost unlike how he usually would. Frank frowned, watching as Gerard got up from his stool, still chewing, holding a hand over his mouth while he spoke through a mouthful of food, "Excuse me for a moment."

"Everything okay?" Frank asked, hoping that Gerard hadn't just been lying about the quality of food and had decided to be polite abut spitting it out somewhere else.

"Everything is fine, boy," Gerard reassured Frank, walking towards the stairs, "I will be back in a moment."

"Oh, okay," Frank nodded, looking down at his bowl of food, "Should I wait for you to get back, sir?"

"Please, continue," Gerard waved a hand at Frank before he disappeared up the stairs two at a time. As much as Frank knew that he could continue eating, he found it almost unnerving to eat without Gerard by his side. Tentatively, he took tiny bites, chewing slowly while he watched the stairs, frowning and wondering why the fuck Gerard had to disappear so quickly. Probably just to the bathroom, Frank thought as he scooped up another small mouthful of food, eating it with a decisively slow pace while he waited for his Master to return. Minutes later, Gerard was walking down the stairs, coming back over to the bar where Frank was sat.

"Better?" Frank asked as Gerard picked up his dinner and walked back into the kitchen area. Frank watched him with an uncomfortable knot in his stomach, hoping that Gerard wasn't about to throw his food away. Frank breathed a sigh of relief as Gerard placed his dinner in the microwave.

"Much better." Gerard admitted with a smile. He walked away from the microwave, coming back to sit next to Frank, patting his thigh to reassure him. "You needn't look so worried, my prince. Everything is okay. I'm just going to finish my dinner later."

"Really?"

"Frank," Gerard sighed, his voice still soft but lilted with warning as he pressed a kiss against his submissives inky hair, "Dinner is wonderful as always, please stop thinking that I'm trying to get rid of it without you seeing."

Frank sputtered, "How did you-?"

"Because I'm not stupid. Clearly, you became tense when I left, but you really have nothing about which to worry. I will eat later. I'll even make sure that I tell you when I eat so you don't think that I'm just looking for a scapegoat."

"Okay." Frank nodded, feeling relieved by the words as he continued to eat with his Master by his side.

"So," Gerard asked after a minute of silence, turning in his chair to face his submissive, "Did you ever consider cooking as a profession?"

"Not really- I don't know," Frank sighed thoughtfully, chewing on his dinner, "I mean, I always enjoyed Home Economics in high school, but once I moved in with Ryan, he took over the duties like cooking and cleaning. I never did it right."

"It's such a shame that he felt the need to squash your dream for his own benefit," Gerard mimicked the sigh, shaking his head slightly as he put his arm on the counter.

"I wouldn't have said it was a dream per se," Frank laughed lightly, "It's not like I was doing it to make a career out of it."

"And why not?" Gerard frowned, "You could have had it as a dream job. Did you not dream about your future when you were younger?"

"I never really dreamed about my future when I was in high school. I guess I lived more in the moment than planning ahead," Frank answered, and then he turned to look at Gerard, "Did you have any dreams when you were younger? Or did you always want to be where you are right now, sir?"

Gerard chuckled at Frank's question before he answered, "When I was a child I didn't dream about becoming a Congressman, no. I was more interested in catching a Guilion."

Frank stopped eating mid-chew, mouth hanging open for a second before he closed it, utter confusion spilled from his brain and onto his face, "I'm sorry... A what?"

"A Guilion," Gerard repeated as though it were obvious. Frank's face remained blank and Gerard tilted his head to the side, "Do you not know what that is?

Frank shook his head as he began eating his prawn-free rice dinner once again, "Nope."

"A Guilion is a hybrid animal. A full-size lion with the head of a guinea pig," Gerard explained quite happily, his smile almost childlike as he recalled his dream, "Of course, the animal is completely mythical, but seven-year-old me didn't know that. I wanted one more than anything in the world."

Frank chuckled, almost being able to picture a younger Gerard wanting an animal so outlandish and obscure. It seemed very him; like the kind of creature that he would desperately want. Frank swallowed his mouthful and added with a playful sigh, "And here was me wanting a puppy for my seventh birthday."

"You see, it wasn't even like I could ask my mother or father for one on my birthday. It's a wild animal, so I knew that I had to catch it," Gerard recalled, " I would go out after school and on the weekends, trying my best to catch the animal that I really wanted as a pet. I was all dressed up in my raincoat, shorts, and rainboots because my mother insisted that I wore the boots out in her garden. The toy binoculars would be worn around my neck religiously, mind you, ready to spot it when it finally appeared. Nor, would I never leave to go on a Guilion hunt without my trusty net. I would set up a box-trap in the back garden and wait for it in the bushes, hoping that today would be the day."

"If you used a trap," Frank thought, vocalizing as he ate more of his dinner, "What did you use for bait?"

"Marshmallows," Gerard answered with feigned offense at the question, "Everybody knows that Guilions love marshmallows, dear boy."

Frank couldn't help but snicker at everything that Gerard was saying; by far it was the most adorable thing he had ever heard about this now-powerful and confident politician. Even imagining Gerard as a young boy, hiding in the bushes and waiting for his long-awaited Guilion to finally be caught in his box trap, Frank couldn't even stop his heart from melting.

"This is honestly the most amazing childhood story I have ever heard," Frank smiled, "But I have to ask: if it were real and you had caught one, where would you have kept it?"

"There is one place you can keep an animal like a Guilion, and that is under your bed." Gerard answered confidently, flashing his perfectly whitened teeth, "There are two places in which a Guilion thrives. One is in the wild, and the second is under a child's bed, especially if you give it enough marshmallows."

"Well, at least you tried to get the pet that you wanted," Frank pouted, pushing the last of his dinner around the bowl with his fork, "I realized by my tenth birthday, after pleading with my mom, that I was never going to get the puppy that I wanted."

"We may have not got what we wanted then," Gerard said, taking hold of Frank's chin between his thumb and forefinger, getting the pouty boy to look at him, "But I know now that I have the pet I had always longed for, and I know he happens to like marshmallows and certain digestive yogurts."