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Gerry leaned close to the mirror, trying to will his hand to be steady as he applied black liner to the corner of his eye. The lighting in the hotel bathroom was so much nicer than what he had at home, but the task was still hard. Once he was done, he set the pencil down and came out into the room.
"How do I look?" He leaned down to show his subtle makeup off properly. He was shaven clean for once, wearing some concealer to hide red spots of acne on his skin. It was strong enough to mask the eye tattoos on his jaw and neck as well, and the subtle eyeshadow and liner he'd used drew attention to his actual eyes even more.
Mike looked up from where he was sitting on the bed, pursing his lips. "Alright." He said eventually, leaning back and glancing back down to his embroidery.
"Just alright?" The goth repeated, slightly incredulous. "Come on." He thought he did pretty well, he'd bothered more than he usually did for his makeup.
"Your hair still looks shitty. Your mile of roots doesn't disappear just because you washed it, you know." Mike shook his head.
Gerry frowned, sitting down on the edge of the bed. "What the hell am I supposed to do about that now? I have maybe two hours until I have leave, and the nearest Boots or something like that is too damn far away to do this in time." He paused. "I do have a black marker-" Not his best idea, but it was something. It should hold for the couple hours he had to be undercover.
"Oh, absolutely not." Mike cut him off quickly. "I came prepared, I knew this would happen." He reached into the suitcase lying on the side of the bed, pulling out a box of dye. "Something decent for once, not that god awful cheap stuff you use."
The goth took the box, examining it curiously. "Damn, where did you even get this?" He chuckled. It looked professional, and definitely cost more than he'd ever be willing to pay.
"Not Boots, and that's going to have to be enough for you. Now, are we doing this or not? I need your hair dry like half an hour before you leave latest." Mike asked impatiently.
Gerry raised an eyebrow. "And why is that?"
"You can't go with your hair loose, it's cut too unevenly. I'll braid it back for you." He explained. "Now move, we need to get started if we want to make it in time." He said, already getting up.
The goth was confused, but obediently stood up as well and followed Mike to the bathroom. "Since when do you know how to braid hair? I didn't know you were planning to get a job." He teased.
The scarred man opened the box, getting the instructions out and starting to look through them. "I'm not. My own hair is growing out, so I thought it would be fit to at least look at some tutorials." He hummed casually.
Gerry tilted his head, watching the other with a skeptical expression. If there was one thing he knew about Mike, it was that the man hated feeling restrained in any way. "Mhm. And it wouldn't bother you to not have it loose when wind blows around you?"
Mike very much did not look at Gerry. "It says here that you need to mix the two parts, then apply it evenly and let it sit for half an hour- sit down." He commanded, pointing to the foldable stool in the corner.
Gerry chuckled, amused by the forced distraction. "So bossy..." He muttered, moving to get the stool and sitting down. He watched the other put on gloves and unpack the rest of the kit, mixing the components with the plastic brush included. The dye had a sharp, chemical smell. "You sure this won't kill me?"
"No." Mike hummed, coming over and angling the goth's head up delicately. "Now keep still." He ordered.
Gerry managed to suppress a shiver when he felt the cold of the dye on his scalp. He closed his eyes, just letting Mike do whatever he wanted. At times he could feel the man's chest pressing against his back, and it never failed to make him blush just a little. The proximity was nice, was all. "Remind me when your show starts?"
"Eight, I'll have a while to get ready after you leave." Mike replied, lifting a strand of Gerry's hair to get the brush to the roots more easily. "If I have to be here, might as well have some fun. And musicals sound lovely in French."
Gerry snorted, bringing a hand up to cover his mouth. "Have to be here? You insisted on coming." He reminded, amusement bleeding into his voice.
"You were going to sleep in some shithole again! I didn't want you dragging something back into my flat once you return. Besides, you can't speak French at all." Mike huffed.
"I can understand French." Gerry insisted, a little indignant. "And I've always been fine traveling alone." Then, his expression turned smug. "It's okay, Sparks, you can just say you wanted to spend time with me. I'll still think you're cool." He teased.
Mike grumbled something under his breath, pulling on a strand of Gerry's hair gently and just letting the topic drop. The goth opened his eyes to look in the mirror, delighted to see his friend flustered. The scarred man's reflection gave him a glare in return.
The next few minutes passed in silence, though it didn't feel awkward by any means. Eventually, Mike stepped away. "There we go. Set you timer for half an hour." He moved to the sink to clean up.
The goth did as he was asked, then checked his reflection out. Mike had applied the dye much more evenly than he'd ever managed to on his own. He could feel the light familiar sting of the chemicals on his scalp, and the smell was making him feel a little lightheaded. He got up, stretching. "I'll go out onto the balcony, yeah? You probably should too. The fumes ain't too good for you."
"Yeah, I'll come by in a second." Mike waved his hand distractedly, then went back to carefully removing the gloves.
Gerry slipped his phone into his pocket, heading out. The days were progressively getting shorter, as they did every fall, but it was still a little jarring to see the sun setting after four already. The cold air made him shiver a little, but he ignored it and crossed his arms on the railing. He was itching for a smoke, but Mike would lately chastise him whenever he caught him holding a cigarette. It certainly didn't stop the habit, but it made it... just a bit less appealing of an idea right now. He got a small mint from his pocket instead, unwrapping it and putting the candy in his mouth.
He looked down at the city, watching streetlights flickering on one by one in a nearby park. Mike's fancy hotel room was high up, providing a lovely view of Lyon. Big cities had similar feelings attached to them, but this one felt just a little better than London. Gerry could think just a little clearer.
He played with the candy in his mouth absentmindedly, trying to calm his nerves before tonight. It wouldn't be the first time he went to an event like this, but fancy balls always made him feel even more out of place than regular life already did. Still, he had a chance to get some information and snatch a definitely paranormal book from the place the event was being held, and he wasn't going to pass that up. With Mike's help, surely the disguise would be good enough for this.
He didn't know for how long he'd been zoning out before he heard the chair next to him creak. He looked over to see Mike, sipping water from one of the fancy hotel glasses. He had faint black stains on his fingers. "Didn't you have gloves on?" He teased.
The scarred man groaned softly, looking like he was considering pouring the water over Gerry. "I had a little trouble throwing the other things out, and this is strong. Should fade in a day or two, hopefully... and I have gloves that go with my outfit, thank god."
"Of course you do." The goth laughed, but he couldn't find anything else to say afterwards. Mike didn't seem to be looking for conversation either, and so they just stayed there in silence for a while. Gerry silently asked for the glass, and the other handed it over. The water was cold, and the menthol from the candy only made the cool sensation in his mouth stronger. An odd feeling, but not bad by any means.
The comfortable calm of their slow breathing and the city hum from below was eventually broken by Gerry’s alarm. He grabbed his phone, quickly turning it off and looking over to Mike. The mint had fully dissolved by then. "That's our sign."
"Your sign. Go wash it off with my conditioner." Mike instructed, not moving from his seat. "We have over an hour left, so you should let it dry out on its own as much as possible first. We'll see if the dryer's needed then." He got up, gracefully climbing up onto the railing. "And while you do that, I'm going to go for a fall." He gave Gerry a grin and fell back without another word.
"Ass." Gerry muttered, heading back in to wash off the itchy substance. It was awfully convenient for Mike to just be able to disappear almost whenever like this. Maybe a little rude, he thought as he bent down and brought the showerhead up to soak his hair. Still, he couldn't help but feel a little envious. He already knew the sight was breathtaking every time, and... well, maybe sometimes he wished he could have a relationship like that with his patron. But no. Things he would have to stand for for that wouldn't be right. If he was to be taken, it would not be willingly.
He kept rinsing his hair until the water ran clear, then picked up Mike's fancy conditioner bottle and spread some on his hands. It had that sweet, familiar almond scent he'd grown used to without even noticing. It made his hair feel silky even while still wet, and if it would make the texture anything like the blonde's hair once dry... maybe he could afford to splurge and get a bottle for himself. Lord, hanging around Mike really was changing him.
Gerry toweled his hair off, then left it to dry on his shoulders. Checking himself out in the mirror he found a couple spots where his concealer had rubbed off, but he decided to wait with touching it up until his braid was done. He went to iron his clothes, then got comfortable on the bed with a book while he waited.
After a while, the balcony door swung open. Mike looked charged up, his hair all over the place and eyes sparking with an odd electricity. He have Gerry a shaky grin, moving to get himself more water. "Hey."
"Hey. Had a nice fall?" The goth asked with a smile, amused but fond at the same time. "You look like you got struck by lightn-" He paused, realizing just how inappropriate that was to say. Shit.
Mike gave him an unimpressed look, shaking his head disapprovingly. "That was a good while ago, try to keep up." He teased, sticking his tongue out briefly. "The jump was lovely, though."
"I'm glad." Gerry said shortly, mildly embarrassed by the slip up. He bookmarked the page with a faded receipt he'd found in his pocket, then set the book aside. "My hair's mostly dry, I think." He held a strand up for Mike to inspect.
The man touched the lock, humming consideringly. Then, he nodded. "Good enough." He guided Gerry into a slightly uncomfortable sitting position, then moved to kneel behind him. "You have your hairband?"
"Of course." He picked the black elastic up from the nightstand, reaching backwards to hand it to Mike. He could feel the other's hands gently parting his hair before he started to braid it. He closed his eyes, just focusing on keeping his head still and not on their proximity.
The thing was, he was perfectly capable of braiding his own hair. He did every once in a while, tiny braids running up the side of his head or a proper big plait when a ponytail just wasn't doing it. They were never the neatest, there was only so much he could do on his own, but still perfectly passable. But the way Mike had insisted on doing this for him... it was sweet, honestly. Ruining this sounded wildly unappealing right now, especially with the way his fingers seemed to linger on the back of Gerry's neck.
The goth sometimes wished he could use his tattoos as actual eyes, and this was one of those moments. He was pretty sure he knew what Mike's expression looked like, but actually seeing it was always nicer. The soft crease in his brows, the way one of his teeth sometimes caught his lower lip. Mike's teeth were slightly crooked, one canine closer to the front than the other and visually longer because of that. Gerry thought it was cute how it would peek out sometimes when he talked-
Actually, maybe he should just think about tonight's mission instead.
It took a while, but eventually Mike wrapped the elastic around the end and clapped once. "There we go, all done." He announced, a note of pride in his voice. Gerry had a strange suspicion this was the first time he'd actually done this, and that just maybe this was the context he'd been hoping to try it in.
"Thank you." He got up from the uncomfortable position, stretching. His back cracked in a few spots, making him groan. "Let's see it then, yeah?" He headed to the bathroom, checking himself out in the mirror. His hair was pulled back into an elegant french braid, sleek and pretty. Mike had even managed to tuck all the uneven ends in. "Oh..."
"You like it?" Mike asked hopefully, handing Gerry a pocket mirror so the latter could see the back properly.
The man nodded, smiling softly. "It's really nice. Think I might actually pass for a rich asshole now." He chuckled, putting the mirror down and grabbing his concealer from the sink. He leaned in to see his reflection better, carefully touching up the spots where his jaw tattoos showed. "Or well, now I will." His collar would cover the back of his neck.
"Cool. Now get dressed, you have ten minutes before you have to leave." Mike reminded, back to his usual bossy self now that the moment was over.
"Right- yeah." Gerry left the bathroom, quickly grabbing his elegant outfit and putting it on in record time. "How do I look?" He asked after buttoning his jacket, presenting himself dramatically.
Mike looked him over, then came closer to adjust his purple tie. "Less messy than usual." Eh, it was a high compliment coming from him. He paused for a moment, then added as if it was an afterthought, "Good luck."
Gerry smiled lightly. It was strangely encouraging, and he would take what he could get. "Thanks."
Mike went behind him, adjusting his collar and dusting off his shoulder gently. "Now shoo." He pushed Gerry towards the door.
"Okay, okay-" The goth laughed, heading out into the bright hallway. "Have fun at your play!" He called just as the door shut behind him. He rolled his eyes fondly, then shook his head and headed towards the lift.
~~~
It was dark and by the time Gerry was making his way back to the hotel, the streets mostly deserted at the late hour. It was disappointing to leave empty handed, but hey, at least he got to try caviar for free. Now he'd know to never make the mistake of eating it again.
He didn't want to think the trip was a total waste, even if things were hardly looking great at the moment. Even with Mike covering a large part, it was still a big expense for Gerry. It was also a few days cut out from his life, days he could've spent doing something useful. God, he barely even relaxed in here.
As he walked, a brightly lit store front drew his attention. A liqour store, open after all other establishments around closed for the night. The man stopped, looking at the neon sign in consideration. He knew he shouldn't drink, but...
Hey, he still owed Mike wine for that Scrabble game. Maybe they could still turn this trip around, have a good night before their flight tomorrow afternoon.
Tomorrow he'd wake up in the comfortable bed with a headache and his braid falling apart into wavy strands, cursing Past Gerry out for his stupid decisions. The white sheets would be soft and warm, and next to him Mike would still be asleep, his linen sleep shirt falling off his shoulder as he rested in some silly position. Once he awoke they would cuddle and chat softly for a while, then head down to get late breakfast before even thinking about packing. The trip back would be a blur, and then they wouldn't see eachother for weeks again.
It would be imperfect, and yet it was all Gerry could ever dream of.