High Gate Terrace #37

Poison tells Jack to give him a head start and the room key.

He realizes, part way through undressing, that he should have specified how long of a head start he needed, but he trusts Jack to take his time. Still, it doesn't take him long to wiggle into the little red sequined dress he found while pawing through the thrift store racks. The back is held together with just a few red strings. He has a pair of red boots he bought to go with them, but he'd forgotten them at home. So he makes due with thigh-high stockings that almost match the dress.

He checks his phone and darts into the bathroom, nearly taking himself out as he slides across the tiles. Right, stockings. It doesn't take him long to apply smokey black eyeliner and red matte lips. He's old hand at this by now, and he can't help but grin as he remembers the first time he nearly broke down Jack's door all femme and enraged.

Fuck, he loves that man.

It's a small show in a cramped club but it's alive and electric and a good start. Poison wants to get back on stage - he's been avoiding it since Girl disappeared, and he knows she'd kick his ass if she found out somehow. Things are good with Jack, he feels like he has his feet on the ground, even if the ground is shifting, and he can work with that.

So they do a show, and it revs Poison up, makes him want more, another, bigger.

When he gets off stage, he's boneless and electric all at once and he grins when he finally finds Jack, launching at him.

"Was it good?"

Poison never uses an instrument on stage. He has the band of that, and he moves around too fucking much to be responsible for remembering to do more than sing. But at the moment he's in the park, sitting on a bench with an acoustic guitar, just sort of strumming away as he decides what he wants to do.

He owes her a concert, he knows that. A farewell. His girl is out there, somewhere, and she's fighting again, and surviving, and she deserves to be remembered for everything she was here. As he plays, he misses her like an ache. He sings, for her, for all of them.

"Be strong and hold my hand. Time, it comes for us, you’ll understand. We’ll say goodbye today, and I'm sorry how it ends this way. If you promise not to cry, then I’ll tell you just what I would say if I could be with you tonight, I would sing you to sleep. Never let them take the light behind your eyes. I’ll fail and lose this fight - never fade in the dark. Just remember you will always burn as bright."

He remembers how her little hands felt in his when she was a toddler, and he remembers how small she still was when she was all grown up. But she was so big inside - she is so big inside - that he knows she'll be alright.


The Song

Poison keeps looking down at the simple band on his finger and he can't stop grinning. The ceremony was simple but it was them, with the witnesses they wanted and it had that get-away kind of feel that Poison can't seem to escape. Maybe that's just how things have to be, but Jack made it work and it was perfect.

As promised, Poison's wearing something that skirts the line of masculine, but the close tailoring gives hints of femme lines. He'd promised Jack some surprises underneath.

The whole trip up to Kagura feels like a run down the Getaway Mile and his heart is beating like it's planning to break the sound barrier.

"We did it," he breathes, somewhere between getting their room key and the door.

"Isn't this like bad luck or something? Aren't we not supposed to see what the other person is gonna be wearing?"

None of that actually stops Poison as they wander down the sidewalk together, looking for somewhere to shop. He's just kind of really excited that they're planning the thing, that they're going to do it. He's told Jack to just pick a date and have Poison's best man grab him and get him there. It's not that he doesn't want to marry Jack - he does, kind of desperately - but he knows if he keeps waiting for the day that he feels good enough, they're going to wait forever.

So this is how it's going to be. A whirlwind. He can handle that.

Poison fluffs his hair and tucks himself close against Jack's side, arm sliding around his waist.

Poison wanders downstairs to the common area of the house, wearing a pair of shorts and one of Jack's t-shirts. Jack is at work already, and Poison had decided to not be a working person as often as he possibly can. He fluffs his hair lazily and heads down to the kitchen, lazily seeking coffee, maybe even breakfast. Having a regular source of caffeine has been pretty awesome, but possibly not at all good for him.

Whatever, he's been doing fine since getting here, despite his paranoia.

Poison looks at himself in the mirror, carefully touching up his makeup. Most of it is waterproof, smudge-proof, because he's really not sure what they're getting up to tonight. Jack just suggested that he get femme'd up so they could go out, so he did.

Dark lips tonight, smokey eyes, a tank top and a short skirt. He'll probably wear his boots because running around town in heels will probably kill him - he's still practicing in those. They look fucking amazing, though, he'll admit that.

"Hey Jack! I'm ready baby. Are we taking your car or walking or what?" he asks as he comes out of the bathroom. The skirt barely covers his ass, it'd take almost nothing to flip it up. He grabs his jacket, figuring he'll just check it or leave it in the car if they take one.