rockabillyboy | (no subject)

"What do you think I ought to know about him?" Asks Jack, fetching the food, dividing it between the two bowls. "What would Dee tell me about the two of you?"

"She'd probably be a punk about it," he says with a wry look. Poison shrugs. "We knew each other since we were teenagers... kinda fell in together a year or so before we went to rescue Girl."

"Right," Jack says, setting the bowls down on the table and sliding into a seat. He's bought chopsticks and forks so Poison kids. "When you were about my age?"

"Yeah. I mean I'd known him for a little longer than that, but we were both kinda young." He shrugs.

"He's... he was... I dunno." Poison thinks of the first time he looked at Ghoul and really felt something. He's spent so much time trying not to think or talk about him, he's almost not sure of the words he wants now.

"He kept me from flying apart. He made all my hard edges soft, kept me from cutting myself apart from the inside. And when he was with me, everything was okay. Even when it really, really wasn't."

Jack feels a little spike of jealousy but he breathes and let's it pass, recognises that there's no way that has a place.

"It sounds..." He pauses for a moment. "God. It must be so hard, babe."

Poison keeps his eyes on the table. "I had a feeling... I was so sure everything had gone completely Costa Rica but I was hoping it wasn't true. Then Dee got here and told me how it happened..." He can picture Ghoul, angry and determined and... resigned, maybe.

He rubs his forehead.

"He made me laugh," he says quietly. "Covered in tattoos. Really good shot, could rig anything to explode, I'm sure."

Jack doesn't say anything. A smile pulls at the corner of his mouth at the way Poison describes Ghoul. He reaches under the table and squeezes Poison's bare knee, encouragement, whatever he needs.

Poison shakes his head. "And it's--" He shrugs. "I'm sorry, I really shouldn't. Not at you." He reaches under the table to squeeze Jack's hand. It doesn't feel fair to vent all this to him.

"Why not at me?" Reasons Jack, threading their fingers together. "This is a thing. We're a thing. He matters to you. You matter to me." He shrugs. "It's okay, Poison."

"It doesn't feel okay." Even though Poison knows he'd do the same for Jack in a heartbeat. "I'll try to be better about it."

Jack nods.

"I just don't want there to anything you feel you can't say to me, babe."

"Promise I'll try to remember. And you can nudge me if you feel you need to." Surely Jack knew by now that Poison would draw a line if he needed it. Even if it was just temporary.

He eats his stir fry with chopsticks for a moment.

"I understand that this is happening really freakinf quickly, boo," he says, quietly. "I understand if it's freaking you out."

"I don't want to be freaked out. It sucks," he sighs, dropping his head to the table. "You're better than that. You deserve better than that."

Jack reaches out a hand and tousles his fingers through Poison's red hair.

"I don't care," he says quietly. "Don't want anyone but you."

Poison turns his head a little so he could smile at Jack. "Thanks," he says, a soft look on his face. "Seriously."

"It's true," shad Jack, returning the smile. "Whatever this is? I'm done. I'm with you." He shrugs. "We'll figure everything else out."

The sense of finality in Jack's voice scares him a little - only because Jack is young, and Poison just... worries. But it makes him smile, too. "We'll figure it out," he agrees, reaching to catch Jack's hand so he could give it a squeeze.

"Feeling alive is always worth the risk," he says. He lifts Poison's hand and brings it to his lips, kissing his knuckles.

Poison's expression goes soft all over hearing that, combined with the way Jack kisses his hand. It's something Ghoul would've said; it's something Poison would say.

But hearing it from Jack makes it perfect.

He squeezes Jack's hand and makes himself sit up.

"Always," he agrees.

"Eat your food," says Jack gently. "And then you can take me back to bed and do obscene things to me all afternoon."

Poison snorts. "Yeah we'll see about that." He pulls the food closer and picks up his fork.

Suddenly he's not feeling very obscene. He's feeling something very different.

"It's vegetarian," says Jack, apologetically. "I know it's not what you prefer."

Poison rolls his eyes, smiling. "Oh no, it's good food. I'll survive." He lightly kicks Jack under the table.

Jack smirks, wielding his chopsticks expertly.

"We don't have to go back to bed. But I'd like to."