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It’s a lazy Sunday and their small apartment is filled with the smooth contralto of Billie Holiday playing on their gramophone. She is one of Merriell’s favourites, so her voice was a regular presence in their little home.
Eugene is sitting by the rickety kitchen they’d bought from when Eugene moved in all those months ago. One of the table legs has to be propped up with a book because it is uneven to the rest of them, but Eugene had been happy to sacrifice one of his old textbooks so half their meal didn’t end up on the floor when they were eating. Still, it isn’t completely balanced as they haven’t been able to find the rightly sized book to keep it perfectly levelled. Merriell had found that Kipling fit the bill, but Eugene simply couldn’t treat the jungle book like that.
So Eugene sits at their unsteady table. A mug of coffee is balancing precariously on the unsteady table top and a big book is open in front of him, but he isn’t paying the liquid or text in front of him any mind as he watches mesmerized as Merriell is twirling in front of the mirror, inspecting himself carefully in his new dress.
The neckline is wide, almost off his shoulders, revealing his freckled, deep-set collar bones that protrudes slight underneath his skin. Dovey grey and golds woven into the fabric reminds Eugene of the Pacific waves lapping at the shores early in the morning, especially when the chiffon flows around Merriell’s bony knees while he spins around on the balls of his bare feet.
Merriell looks so at ease and carefree when he is like this, immersed in this character he’s embodying, and Eugene cannot help but feel slightly envious of him. He wishes he dared to do what Merriell did, completely letting go and not having to be himself for a while. Unburdened by his past.
Merriell leans forward and eyes himself critically in the mirror, thumbing at the corner of his mouth when he catches Eugene staring in the reflection. His light pink lips stretches into a smile, revealing a surprisingly white, straight set of teeth, before he turns around. “What?”
Even without the long wig on, Merriell looks beautiful. Eugene wonders if he could ever look like that, feminine and soft, but also striking with dark coal around the eyes and a painted lip.
“I’m just thinking.” Eugene answers absently, his eyes lingering on Merriell’s done-up face and pretty dress.
Merriell’s grin softens into a soft, understanding smile. He floats over to Eugene, because when Merriell is like this he doesn’t simply walk, and places the soft material of his skirt into Eugene’s hand. “Would you like to try?”
Eugene’s heart stops in his chest, and for a moment Eugene thinks that his heart condition has returned because he hasn't felt it skip like that in a very long time.
Merriell must be able to see the hesitance on his face, because he leans forward and pecks his lips. “Don’t worry. No one else has to see if you want to.”
“Nothing will fit me.” Eugene doesn’t intend to sound as bitter about it as he is, but it’s just facts. Merriell is smaller than him, it’s so blatantly obvious. He sees it all the time when Merriell steals his clothes; they’re always too long and baggy on him. He always looks like an overgrown child in them.
Merriell scoffs in protest. “You ain’t any bigger than I am.” In an instant he is digging through the wooden chest containing the small assortment of dresses he owns before he makes a triumphant noise. He brandishes the red material like a weapon before he throws it at Eugene’s face.
Eugene fumbles a bit with the heavy fabric, hyperaware of the cup of joe that is still balancing on the table next to him. When his flailing limbs settle and the dress is laid out in his lap, he feels an unexpected laugh bubble up in his chest. “You’re a sap,” he says affectionately as he picks at the straps of the red velvet dress Merriell had worn the first night he’d brought Eugene back to his apartment and they’d reconciled properly.
Merriell just shrugs, but Eugene can detect the faint twitch of his lip as he scuttles around their small studio and picks up bits and bobs along the way. He dumps his loot on the table carelessly, seemingly unaware of the cup of coffee and Eugene's things there before he stands on attention at Eugene’s side. “Face me,” he orders but doesn’t wait for Eugene to oblige before he turns Eugene’s chair around so Eugene is sitting directly in front of him.
Instinctively, Eugene spreads his legs to make room for Merriell who slots himself right between Eugene’s thighs. The closeness makes Eugene’s dick twitch with interest and Eugene's hands fall to Merriell’s hips, pulling Merriell flush against his erection.
“Hey, behave,” Merriell scolds playfully, a grin on his face as he kisses Eugene another time. He places his hand at each side of Eugene's face when he pulls away, squinting as if deep in thought while he turns Eugene's head this way and that. “I might have to improvise a bit, but we can make a presentable woman of you yet, boo.”
Eugene chuckles, a bit uncomfortable under the scrutiny. “Only presentable? You worried I’m coming for your gig?”
“Nah, I ain’t worried ‘bout that,” Merriell says while pushing Eugene's hair away from his face. “Unless you think I should be?” He falters his movements to meet Eugene's eyes, his lips quirking up in a shy smile.
“I won’t,” Eugene replies easily. “I’ll just leave you for an older, richer, much uglier man. Eugene Sledge would cease to exist and I would live out my life miserable but filthy rich with my new pensioner as Gladys.”
Merriell scrunches up his nose in distaste, which is kind of funny considering his entire face is fully covered in heavy makeup. “You haven’t even met her yet and you're goin' with Gladys?”
“That’s what you got from that?”
“All I’m sayin' is, don’t run before you can walk,” Merriell says before he turns toward the assortment of make-up and accessories he's dumped on the table. He picks out a tub of something creamy, skin coloured. “And like you’d leave me. You like sleeping with me too much, no amount of money can replace a good fuck.”
Eugene nods emphatically. “That’s true. Can’t fuck money either. Or marry it.”
“You can’t marry me either, but I’ll suck you off like any good housewife to make it up to you.” A thoughtful frown interrupts Merriell’s easy smile when he twist the lid off the tub, his eyes going from the creamy colours to Eugene's face. “Might have to do a lot of improvising, Gene. Ain’t got any creams in shade porcelain.”
Thinking back to all the creative solutions Merriell’s come up with in the past, Eugene smiles. “Not like it’s stopped you before.”
“Fuck nah.”
Merriell makes it work. Or at least, Eugene thinks he does because Merriell attacks his face with a brush full of creams and powders Eugene doesn’t recognise then looks pleased with himself when he takes a step back to admire his progress. “It’s not quite right but I ain’t about to spend a shit-ton of money for you to play dress up for a night.”
“Stuart would have,” Eugene says mock-petulant, turning his nose up at Merriell and looks down it’s ridge at him.
“Who the fuck is Stuart?” Merriell mutters absently as he strokes Eugene’s unruly hair away from his face.
“My pensioner.”
“Ha-ha,” Merriell says drily and grip onto his face more tightly than before. “Now, sit still or I am going to end up poking one of your eyes out with one of the brushes. Good luck hookin' up with Steve with no eyes.”
“You mean Stuart.”
“Whatever.”
Eugene gently grabs hold of Merriell’s fingers digging into his scalp. “You’re jealous,” he observes in wonder. He had never really seen Merriell jealous before. Usually, it is Eugene who suffers from the occasional jealousy, particularly when they’re at the club and Merriell is in his full get-up which attracted quite the large, interested clientele. He can’t help but feel kind of gleeful that their situations are now switched, no matter how metaphorical that situation may be.
“I am not,” Merriell objects but doesn’t withdraw from Eugene’s grasp. “Especially of some old dusty man named Steve.”
“You mean Stuart.”
“No, I mean that I don’t give a fuck.”
Letting go of Merriell’s fingers, Eugene wraps his arms around his waist and hugs him close. The chiffon tickles his skin and he smile against the coarse fabric. For a moment, Eugene think Merriell won’t hug back but then he feels hands thread through his hair, a lot gentler this time around as he massages the spots where he’d been digging his fingers in.
Eugene hums in contentment. This is a lot nicer than Merriell beating his face with various brushes and sponges, though Eugene supposes he can only fault himself for his curiosity. Merriell is only indulging him.
“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me now, boy. Ain’t close to finishin’ yet,” Merriell mutters.
Groaning, Eugene extracts himself from Merriell’s embrace, mourning the loss of contact instantly. “Alright, do your worst. Whatever that may be,” he says dramatically as he throws himself back in his chair.
It turns out that Merriell’s worst isn’t so bad. He makes quick but careful work of the rest of the makeup; carving out Eugene's eyelids with dark shadows and coal, dusting his cheeks with pink and painting his lips with dark red.
“Well, we’re done with the hard part. Now let’s get y’changed and in a wig, honey,” Merriell purrs and pulls Eugene out of his chair and onto his feet. Stepping into Eugene's space, he breathes into Eugene’s neck hot and wet as he starts slowly unbuttoning Eugene's shirt.
Eugene stands stock-still while Merriell undresses him. He feels Merriell’s callused palms on his shoulders as Merriell pushes off the obstructive fabrics, his movement slow, tender and deliberate. Merriell is fully aware what it’s doing to Eugene too, Eugene knows how much of a tease he can be and he has to bite his lips to suppress the sigh that wants to escape him. It’s difficult not to let his mind wander to different things when Merriell is like this with him, so he isn't fully aware what Merriell is talking about when he checks back into real-time and he is standing there completely naked.
“– it’s easiest to pull it over y’head, but we’ll just have to be careful not to smudge your makeup. Ain’t got the fuckin’ patience to go that while process again. Now, lift your arms up and we'll see if we can make this bitch work for ya.”
Eugene obeys and Merriell helps pull the red velvet over his head. The dress is a bit of a tight fit, but Eugene is pleasantly surprised to find that Merriell has no problem zipping it up for him. And while it isn’t exactly comfortable, Eugene can’t help but stroke down his front and feel how the velvet hugs to his body. Feeling eyes on him, he looks up to find Merriell staring at him with this indecipherable expression on his face.
“Something wrong?” he asks, suddenly feeling self-conscious and begins to regret to letting Merriell talk him into this. “We don’t have to –”
“No, y'look great. Amazing, in fact,” Merriell breathes absently before he seems to collect himself and clears his throat awkwardly. “Right. Now for the finishing touch.”
Merriell reveals the chocolate coloured wig he’d been hiding behind his back. It’s not one of his regular ones. This hair is a lot straighter and sleeker, and doesn’t have the same volume. It’s pretty though, but Eugene can see that it isn’t as good for performing as the dark curly ones Merriell favours.
Helping Eugene put the wig on, Merriell grabs his hand again and drags him excitedly towards the mirror. “C’mon, take a look.”
Eugene steps in front of the reflective surface and does a double take at what he sees. The red dress sits snug on his body and the long wig pools around his shoulders delicately. His face is the most changed because somehow Merriell has managed to seemingly reconstruct it with only makeup. And while he thinks he isn’t anywhere close to being as convincing as Merriell, the other man had done a remarkable job with Eugene. Eugene thinks he almost looks almost pretty.
“So, what d'ya think?” Merriell steps into the reflection next to him and slings an arm around Eugene’s bare shoulders. He is in a wig now too, one of his usual ones, and standing next to Eugene when they were both dressed up like this they looked like two different people entirely.
The thought surprise a laugh out of Eugene who has to wave off the quizzical look Merriell sends his way. “You did really good job. In fact, so good that I thought we looked like a completely different type of couple.”
“Oh yeah? What type of couple?” Merriell asks coyly, his tone and the particular tilt of his lips suggesting he already knows what Eugene is thinking.
Eugene turns in Merriell’s arms and plants a soft kiss to his pliant lips. “Like you don’t know,” he says fondly against Merriell’s painted lips, smudging the dark colour there. He slips his own arms around Merriell’s waist, starting to gently sway them to the music still playing. “Still, I’m not nearly as pretty as you.”
“Oh shut up.”
Billy holiday’s voice singing ‘carelessly’ echoes through their cramped apartment and while it is a song about heartbreak, Eugene didn’t think he could be more in love than he is in this moment with Merriell in his arms.
“S’have ya decided on a name for her?” Merriell purrs eventually in that light voice of his he reserved for when he is her, stroking Eugene's wig away from his face with a surprising gentleness and tucks the strand of hair behind Eugene’s ear.
“Gladys isn’t an option?” Eugene jokes light-heartedly.
Merriell shakes his head. “I won’t allow y’to call her that. She isn’t a Gladys, I can feel it,” he says seriously, full of passion. For Merriell, this had never been a simple matter of dress-up. Like he’d told Eugene all that time ago, it is a matter of being. An escape from himself and be someone without any care or baggage weighing him down.
It made Eugene want to take this seriously too. “Okay,” he says carefully as he contemplates, though he doesn’t know where to even begin to pick a new name for himself. It also makes him wonder how Merriell picked his. “How did you decide on yours?” he asks, hoping to gain some insight into Merriell’s creative process.
For some reason Merriell looks like a mix of embarrassed and amused at the same time by this question. “Y’mean how I settled on Lilly? I thought it was obvious, honestly.”
Frowning, Eugene looks at him Merriell confused before the Cajun quirks a sculpted eyebrow at him and it dawns on him. Eugene feels a bit stupid for not realising sooner, but it’s overshadowed by the fact that Merriell hadn’t shed every aspect of his past when he created Lilly.
“Lilliputian,” Eugene whispers, pressing his forehead to Merriell’s. He hadn’t forgotten. “Hard for the Japs to say.”
“Hard for you to say,” Merriell whispers back and strokes his fingers down the side of Eugene’s face, careful not to ruin his hard work, and to the back of the nape of his neck. His grip on Eugene’s neck tightens and he pulls them impossibly closer, so they are standing chest to chest, hugging each other like their lives depended on it. “I think I like Genevieve for you though.”
Besides the obvious connection to his name, Eugene doesn’t really see why Merriell picked that name exactly. He would have thought he would have picked something silly or a pun, not something as graceful and royal as Genevieve.
“It sounds like a character from one of your books. One of the princesses,” Merriell clarifies. He looks at Eugene with this cheeky smile. “Not that y’were any damsel in distress. Didn’t need no savin’ from me. Think it was rather the other way ‘round if I’m bein’ completely honest.”
“Yeah, you were a proper damsel, tons of distress. Good thing I came along,” Eugene says faking seriousness. This is always a risky territory between them. Not because they didn’t like talking about before or what they’d been through, but because Merriell always seems to think of himself as a burden to Eugene. Why, Eugene doesn’t know because he’s happier than he’s ever been and he wants Merriell to feel that too.
“You’re not supposed to agree with me y’fuckin’ asshole,” Merriell complains and draws away slightly to give him a stern, offended look which didn’t quite seem right with his make-up covered face. “If I’d known letting you try my gear made you this bitchy I would have never let you.”
“I’m sorry, Lilly. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings,” Eugene says with a slight laugh and draws Merriell back into their hug. They both know it’s all in good fun, but Eugene also knows that Merriell struggled to open up about these things. Sometimes though, Eugene needs to stop him from being so hard on himself.
“Genevieve and Lilly... I like that. They work nicely together. Looks nice together too, thanks to you,” Eugene says lovingly, wanting to convey how much he appreciates Snafu doing this for him. Wants to convey how much he appreciates Snafu.
He considers the two of them in the mirror, the figures there covered in long, pretty dresses that swayed with them as they moved slowly to the music. The smaller one, Lilly, is adorning the prettiest dress with the light chiffon flowing around her and had the prettiest feature with large, imploring doe eyes that dominated face. The brunette holding onto her tightly, Genevieve, is only a couple of inches taller than Lilly and is thin with a long neck. Her face is too covered in pretty makeup, but it doesn’t quite conceal the man that is hiding underneath it quite as well as Lilly’s. Still, Eugene thinks she could make people look twice if she felt like it.
“They do, don’t they.” Merriell’s thoughtful frown slowly transforms into a timid, happy smile as he considers them in the mirror, glad to be distracted from the thoughts churning in his mind. It doesn’t take very long before Merriell gaze slip back to Eugene, eyeing him up and down suggestively. The smile melts into a lewd smirk then. “D’ya think they look as nice together in bed?”