Words 1114. Rating: G. CN: hints of potential violence (which should be a given with Wild Streak honestly)
Andre knocked on the door frame to Wild Streak’s office. It was safe – the boss was flopped on the couch staring into space, not scribbling at his desk. He glanced over. “You planning on going to Daisy’s graduation?”
He rolled his eyes. “Of course.”
“Yeah, I figured. So how are you planning on doing that?”
“Wh-” He trailed off, looking at his gray hands. “Oh. Hm.”
Typical. “Charles is making lunch. How about after that you come to the den and we’ll see if my make-up skills are still up to snuff?”
The eyebrow over the blue eye rose. “When did you do make-up?”
“I was a theater nerd in high school, sold Glowing to pay for bills and stuff in college, and then helped out burlesque and drag queens. No, I didn’t do either.”
Wild Streak’s mouth quirked and he laid back. “Sure. Why not?” Now to dig out his old stuff and see what he still had.
~ ~ ~
Well, most of the creams and liquids had dried up, no surprise after so long, but he had enough to at least figure out colors. If this worked, he’d have to go buy new things anyway. Charles announced that food was on, so he dropped the kit in the den and headed for the kitchen.
“No, that one’s for Andre,” Charles was saying when he came in.
“It looks good,” Wild Streak whined.
“It’s got mutton in it,” Charles said, which got a wrinkled nose and a grimace in response. Wild Streak grabbed one of the other plates and flounced to the table.
“Thanks babe,” Andre gave nem a squeeze. Charles usually made stuff they could all eat – with reasonable modifications – but had been craving ham. And with Wild Streak usually insisting on being contrary, that meant the one meat the boss wouldn’t eat to guarantee something safe for Andre. He got revenge by taking a heaping portion of the salad, Andre’s favorite, before starting on his ham sandwich. Which, fine, at least he was eating produce. Andre caught Charle’s eye and made a face. Ne could be a lot more patient than Andre was, but generally they both managed to see the humor.
Lunch over, Wild Streak sprinted to the den while Andre cleared the table.
“Go, I got it,” ne said.
He shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Not a problem.” Charles leaned down for a quick kiss.
Wild Streak was tapping his feet when Andre pulled a chair around to sit across him. The den was usually Charles’ and Andre’s space, and that meant it was the neatest as well.
“Okay, stupid question but…” he said as he started pulling out palettes. “You are white, right?”
He chuckled. “Yeah.”
“Great, cuz I don’t have many of the dark shades left.” He grabbed the lightest foundation tester palette. “Can I have your arm?” The boss offered one and Andre guided him into turning it over so he could see the veins. He squinted. Like everything else, they were heavily obscured by the gray. “Let’s see. It’s been a while…”
“You did this a lot?”
“Mostly for little old ladies who knew my mom or aunts, yeah.”
“And drag queens.”
“Sometimes, but they usually already knew what colors worked for them.” He glanced at Wild Streak’s face. Bright clear blue eye. Dark auburn? hair. He wasn’t completely sure if it was red or yellow toned. “Was your hair lighter as a kid?”
The boss’s voice went as cool as a knife blade. “I don’t remember.”
Andre kept his voice light, ignoring the way the hair on the back of his neck prickled. “Kay.” He started with the cooler side, carefully dabbing on swatches. He had to go heavier than he usually would, but it was hiding the gray. If he got a light one for a first layer, it should work. “Hm.” Definitely the final tone shouldn’t be super pale, but… He switched over to the warmer side. Yeah. It was subtle but his skin’s undertone was definitely more gold than blue.
“What are you doing?” Wild Streak asked curiously.
“Trying to figure out the best foundation color for you.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah, kinda. I mean, I might be over picky, but it should end up looking better with your hair and eyes.”
He cocked his head. “Shouldn’t you do it on my face then?”
“I will, I just want to narrow it down some first. I thought, considering your eyes and how good you look in black -” and the vain bastard smiled “-you could be a winter. But spring skin tones are looking better.”
“Okay…”
“So I suppose you’re a clear. Which is why you look good in all the bright colors you do. Most people don’t.”
“I know.” Smug. He was probably lying, but it was always a good idea to give him regular doses of ego-boo.
“Daisy’s definitely a spring.” He pulled out a make-up wipe and cleaned off his arm. “Right. Let’s see how they look on your face.”
“Why’s that?”
He snorted as the boss let him turn his head. “Her hair’s a dead give-away. Amber eyes mean Spring or Autumn, but her hair’s too strawberry for Autumn. Lucky her. She looks great in pink.” Wild Streak nodded. “Yeah. Definitely a warm olive foundation.” He grabbed some blush. “Yep, and that blush will work. Close your eyes, please.” He was used to being quick – theater make-up was bolder but the principle was the same. He didn’t bother completely blending the colors, not when he was just trying them out. They weren’t quite the right shades either – the blush was a little too pink, not quite enough peach, and he’d need a variety of shades of foundation anyway for shading. “Okay. It’s not perfect, but now I can I make a shopping list.” Wild Streak opened his eyes. “Don’t touch. I’m not going to set it because this was just for testing.” He held up the mirror. “What do you think?” Wild Streak froze, his eyes wide, and Andre’s chest turned to ice. “Boss?”
Wild Streak took it. “It’s…” he swallowed. “Weird. It’s weird. Been… a long time.”
“You okay?”
He handed back the mirror. “Yeah. It just surprised me. Yeah, it’s fine. Good job.” He was back to his casual self, even if it sounded a bit forced.
“Thanks. You want to wash it off or shall I?” Andre asked.
“I got it.” Andre handed over the wipes. Wild Streak considered, his fingers tapping against the table. “I suppose I better let you do it a few times before the big event.” Andre nodded. “Okay. Let me know when you’re ready.”
“Okay boss.”
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