Big Book of Hatsome One Shots

Indulgence (N)

TW: PWP, Makeup, Smut, Rough Sex,

"Hold still."

"Trott, I look stupid."

"I said hold still!"

"Smith'll laugh at me."

"He won't if he knows what's good for him."

"...Since when has Smith known that?"

Trott tsks, brushing his right hand through the fringe of hair on Ross' forehead. "Don't mind him, sunshine, he's just a prick."

Ross' lips drop into a pout, and Trott pulls his left hand away from Ross' cheek. "Love, if you keep moving I'll mess up, and then you'll really look stupid."

A heavy sigh escapes Ross' lips, but he holds still obediently, allowing his eyes to drop shut against the sensation of Trott's delicate touch.

Trott swipes the soft brush across the other man's cheek a couple more times, then draws back to observe him, a thoughtful frown gracing his face.

The blush isn't meant to do much more than brighten his face; Ross' face doesn't really need much contouring. But the spots of dusty pink give his face a sweet glow, and the touch of silver on his eyelids contrast sharply with his dark eyelashes. Trott smiles, and leans in to drop a kiss on Ross' forehead.

"Mmph," says Ross.

"Just one more sec, love," Trott says, and turns to the cabinet to find the last touch.

He flicks open the lipstick once he finds it, swatching it quickly on his own arm. Yes; light pink. Too light for him, but perfect for Ross. He leans in and drops his right hand on Ross' lower cheek, allowing his slight flinch, and then slowly moves his left hand up to press the lipstick tube against Ross' lips.

Ross allows his lower lip to drop open, just enough to help with the application, but otherwise doesn't move. "Good job holding still," Trott murmurs under his breath.

Finally, he finishes to his satisfaction, and pulls back. "Okay, Ross, all done."

Ross blinks his eyes open. "It's heavy," is the first thing he says, and Trott laughs.

"You get used to it pretty quick. Promise."

"Can I see myself?" Ross asks.

"Well, since you asked so nicely," Trott says, and fetches the handheld mirror from the cabinet beside him.

He hands it to Ross, and sits beside him on the bed as the other man methodically assesses his appearance.

"My lips sparkle."

"Yeah, I went with brightening your face. Your eyeshadow's got shimmer, the lip has just got a little sheen to it; I wouldn't go so far as to call it 'sparkle', though."

"If you say so," Ross murmurs, tilting his head from one side to the other.

"What do you think?" Trott asks, and Ross sets the mirror down on his lap. He shifts just enough to face Trott.

"I like it? It's still kind of weird, though."

Trott smiles. He lifts his hand up to stroke Ross' cheek. "I'm glad you don't mind. You look beautiful."

Ross' breath catches, and his eyelashes flutter as Trott's gaze stays fixed on him.

And then the door slams open and Smith's aggrieved voice sails into the room. "Who the fuck took my--"

Trott looks to find Smith staring, mouth open and eyes wide, at Ross. Ross shifts uncomfortably and shoots Trott an "I-told-you-so" glare.

"Hey, Smith," Trott says, but there's no response.