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jet was painting stars on his face. trying to, anyway, and they were coming out smudged and messy, spilling out of bounds and refusing to be contained by neat lines. jet’s hands were too big and shaky and they felt bloated holding the makeup pencil.
a slam, a badly half sung lyric, and a few irregular footsteps announced party poisons entrance into the kitchen. they skipped inside and spotted jet immediately.
“whatcha doing?” poison asked, stepping closer.
jet put down the makeup, turning away from the mirror. “nothing good.”
poison laughed, relaxing into the counter next to jets workstation like butter melting in a hot pan. “painting your namesake?”
jet actually hadn’t thought about that. “yeah, i guess.” he just wanted to be artistic. do something new.
“well, i like it.” poison reached out to touch one of the stars. “want any help?”
jet sighed and held out the pencil. “please??”
poison took it and spun him back around by his shoulders to face the mirror.
“okay, hold still,” poison said, leaning around to the front and taking jet’s face in both hands. as if jet could move while poison was so close, freezing him in place.
poison was never predictable with touch. sometimes they would push it away, or make so many crass jokes that even ghoul would stop messing with them just to shut them up.
but sometimes they would just do this, hop in your space like it was normal, like they did this all the time. like they knew your body perfectly.
jet held his breath as poison retraced his sorry excuses for stars.
poison stuck out their tongue while they were working. jet didn’t know where to look. he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, just an eye peeking out behind poison.
it was very gentle. poisons hands were small and soft and warm, resting against jets cheek to work on his forehead.
poison stopped and tilted jets head to get better light. jet let them move his head, and it made him breathe a little faster.
what was going on with him? surely this wasn’t… you know, attraction, or whatever. jet knew he didn't feel things the same way others did, sometimes. and he was perfectly fine with that. more than fine, actually.
so it couldn’t be. right?
he thought he might want to kiss poison.
jet suddenly felt sick to his stomach, and angry at himself for overthinking. neither of those drowned out the waves of serotonin that he was getting from poisons touch, or the fact that he desperately wanted poison to keep touching him.
"color's nice," poison said distantly as they focused on tracing the dark blue stars.
"stole it from tommy's."
poison laughed with delight, shifting to get closer. jet caught his breath. "love to hear it. motherfucker deserves that shit."
"he had it coming since he charged me an extra 100 credits for the supplies last week."
poison boosted themself onto the counter to sit, their thighs on either side of jets torso. “fuck, really?” their elbows went on jets shoulders to steady their hand.
“yeah.” jet was caught between leaning closer and jerking away. he ended up flinching just slightly.
poison immediately pulled back. “sorry, did i jab you?”
“no-“ jet found his hands on poisons thighs, wanting to keep them there.
“is this okay?” poison leaned back further, looking anxious. “sorry, didn’t ask, sorry-“
“no, no-“ jet couldn’t put the tangled colors of confusion inside his heart and head into words. his feelings always got fucked in translation on their way out of his mouth. but he knew he didn’t want poison to be anxious. “don’t-“ his fingers curled tighter on instinct.
“okay,” poison said, hesitantly, still waiting.
jet looked down, his hair tumbling forward to hide his face, hide the blue stars half fixed by party poison. he just stood there, head bowed, hands on poisons thighs, like he was praying for forgiveness from some god.
“jet?” poison asked tentatively.
a thousand things to say bubbled up in jets throat. instead he just shook his head. things were better when he didn’t talk about it.
he could feel poison breaths rustling his hair.
he didn’t realize he was crying until his whole body trembled with a muffled sob.
“oh, jet,” poison whispered, carefully brushing his hair out of the way, prompting him to raise his head. “what’s wrong, baby?”
jets heart stuttered uncomfortably at the term, the implications of romantic context, before he desperately covered the thought with a reminder that that’s just how party was, it was familiar.
now he felt even more fucked up.
“i’m ruining the stars,” jet said, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt tears run down his face. “i just wanted to be pretty. i just wanted to feel desirable, for once.”
“oh, jet,” poison murmured, and it was so soft that jet felt a little shock run down his body. what it meant, whether good or bad, he couldn’t say. he was scared to death.
“my heart feels wrong,” jet choked out.
party took jets face in their hands, moving slowly in case jet flinched again, but he didn’t. “are you okay? what does wrong mean?”
“it- it feels-“ there wasn’t a way to say it. there weren’t any words invented for this. “orange and green. harsh.”
party poison nodded, staring into jets eyes, looking for more. “orange and green. clashing colors?”
yes, that was it. “yes.”
“what’s clashing?”
jet tilted his head down again. “i don’t- i don’t know,” he whispered. “it’s like-
poisons hands were on his shoulders now, and he thought about how long he had known poison, how much they trusted each other, how they could communicate only in looks during a firefight. was that enough? enough for what??
jet leaned forward and rested his head on poisons bony collarbone. he heard poisons ever so slight intake of breath.
the moment became something else, all of a sudden. a step to the left of reality. hues just a little warmer, time a little slower.
“i get confused because,” jet mumbled, “because i don’t love how people love normally." poison already knew this. "but sometimes i-“ another sigh shook him. “sometimes i want things.”
“like what?”
“it’s just-“ jet laughed through the tears, but it sounded more like he was scared to death. “it’s silly.”
“everybody wants things,” poison said. they paused. “no, everybody needs things, sometimes. what do you need?”
jet slid his hands up just a little higher on poisons thighs, tracing the ribs on their jeans with gentle pressure, in thought. he had the oddest curiosity about poison, wondered what it would be like to kiss them. be a little bit extra special to them. but where this urge came from, jet wasn't sure. he just knew it wasn't from the same place it did for other people, when they talked about this sort of thing. jet felt a million miles away when other people talked about kissing.
so he just shook his head.
“what?” poison persisted.
fuck. of course. they were in one of their bugging-everyone moods. they weren’t just going to fuck off, like jet would if someone didn’t want to talk.
“i-“ jet hesitated. he didn't know how to even begin.
“whatwhatwhat?” poison kicked, nudging jet with their foot. “c’mon. it’s fine. i’m not gonna give a shit.“
jet didn’t believe that, that pesky doubt always hanging around, but he tried to beat it back, tried to trust poison. “okay. well.” his hands were still on poisons thighs. “it’s just.” jet took a deep breath. “you.”
poison raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.
jet paused again, and after several long seconds poison sighed dramatically and threw their head back.
“jetsy, you can’t fuckin leave me on a cliffhanger like that, man!” they said, laughing. “c’mon! what about me?”
jet smiled despite themself. “jesus, fine.” he took a deep breath. “i just… i like it when we’re close. like this.”
“and this is… a bad thing?”
“no.” jet rolled his eyes at poisons teasing grin. “it’s confusing.”
“but you like it.”
jet hesitated, then nodded. “yeah.”
“so what’s so confusing?” poison leaned forward, searching jets eyes, waiting for his explanation.
jet thought for a minute.
“i'm not used to feeling things,” he said slowly. "and i don't know why i'm feeling things."
poison nodded, face serious, and jet thought maybe they really did understand. "hard to sort out?"
"yeah."
"and it's about me?"
jet felt a rush of adrenaline. oh god. "yes."
poison settled back against the cabinets above the counter. "okay. what kind of things are you feeling about me? you don't have to describe them perfectly. just-" they held their hands out, palms up, and made little grabby motions with their fingers, wiggling them. "just have them. if there are fragments that are clear, like they're one solid color, repeat what they're saying to you. doesn't have to make sense, either. it's emotions, they can exist in contradiction all at once."
contradiction. bright colors. jet was reminded why poison was the smartest of them.
"okay. well. one of them is bright- bright blue. and it says-" jet hesitated again.
"you know what it's saying," poison said quietly, and jet knew poison must be remembering leaving the city, getting of the BLind meds, going through the terrible ordeal of learning to feel for the first time. jet was hit with a sudden sense of responsibility, or maybe inspiration. if poison had gone through that, taken on the hard task of sorting out emotions, then jet had to do it too, or it was all in vain.
jet took a deep breath. "it's saying, kiss party poison."
poison nodded. "okay. describe another one."
jet was slightly taken aback. he truly had not thought this far. but he felt more confident now, having admitted the first thing. he straightened up. "okay. there's one that's bright white, and it's like, fear that i'll be misunderstood. and being misunderstood invites hurt."
"that i'll misunderstand, or other people will?"
"anyone." jet shrugged. "it makes me feel like there's eyes everywhere. watching me. and i can't stand that."
"okay. describe another one."
jet had to think again. "there's one that's yellow, and it's curiosity. i wanna know what you think."
"i think feeling something is always good. doesn't mean that not feeling something is bad." poison shrugged. "but feeling something isn't ever bad." they put their hands on top of jet's. "why are you scared of it?"
"cause-" jet licked his lips, mouth dry. "cause right now i feel good. but there's a very thin line between feeling good and feeling awful, with this type of thing, for me."
"so you're scared to follow what feels good, in case it turns bad?"
goddamn it. party poison was far too smart. jet loved them for it. he nodded.
"well, i can't help you too much with that," poison said. "it's up to you to take the risk, if you want to. but i think risks always result in growth. and you can't stay the same person all your life."
jet thought very hard about that for two seconds. then he whispered, "do you think you can kiss and it doesn't have to be romantic?"
party laughed. "yeah, 'course. romance is a concept made up by BLind, anyway. if it doesn't work for you, fuck it." they leaned closer, put a hand on jet's cheek. "what would kissing mean to you?"
"being close," jet said, a little breathless. poison was right there. "being special. being friends. trying new things. innocence. an inside joke."
party poison nodded, eyes bright and intense. "and?"
"fuck you to BLind. fuck you to the rules. reclaiming something for myself. revolution. living."
"that's the spirit," poison whispered, and leaned the tiniest bit closer.
jet closed the gap and kissed party poison, just a peck. they kissed each other. it was softer than jet had anticipated. a little damp. fast and blurry.
they both leaned back, slightly red. jet immediately burst into giggles.
"that's it?" he said.
poison laughed, hand still on jet's face. "i guess so." they were grinning. "fuck the rules, right? who said it had to be all that exciting?"
jet laughed wildly and grabbed poison's wrist. jet didn't really care about the kiss itself. but he cared that poison wanted to kiss him too. he cared that they could both agree on what it was, what it meant. he cared about saying fuck you to the rest of the world's expectations. wasn't that the whole point of everything they were doing out here?
jet felt on top of the world. he felt like himself.