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No good decisions, in Shane’s humble opinion, are ever made over a game of beer pong while already drunk.
Andrew and Steven are significantly more sober than he and Ryan, in hindsight. Shane’s first mistake is partnering with Steven, cuddling up to Adam, clearly beyond the point of social exhaustion. His second mistake is agreeing when Ryan, all bright eyes and a mischievous smile, asks if he wants to play for something.
“What are the stakes?” Shane asks. Adam pushes Steven up to standing next to Shane. Steven swaggers a little bit and then leans into Shane instead, exhaustion clearly settling deep in his bones. Shane pays him no mind. His third mistake.
Ryan thinks it over. “If you win, I’ll be in one of your stupid puppet videos.”
It’s a very good prize; Shane’s been asking Ryan to be in one of his educational puppet videos for forever. He’s got this plan to torture Ryan with weird history and a gameshow. It’s gonna be awesome. “And if I lose?”
Ryan breaks into a smirk. “If, and when, you lose,” he pauses for dramatic effect. “You have to do my makeup on YouTube.”
Ryan’s been asking Shane to do his makeup on his channel for a long time, probably longer than Shane’s been asking for the puppet thing. It’s a great argument between them, neither of them willing to break first. In short, it’s high stakes. Shane, for some reason, has a lot of faith in his beer pong partner, half asleep on his shoulder with Adam half propping him up.
“You’re on, Bergara.”
-
Shane loses.
-
Shane examines the scene around him as Ryan sets up the camera.
He’s surrounded by products he’s never heard of before, Nars and Urban Decay and Anastasia Beverly Hills . He picks up a device that looks like it’s made for extracting eyeballs. When he tells Ryan as much, Ryan turns and laughs. “It’s an eyelash curler, my guy.” He takes a break from setting up the camera to demonstrate, pulling up his eyelid and placing the device right by his eye. When he’s done, his eyelashes do look a little curlier, but Shane thinks he’ll probably just avoid that one for fear of serious injury.
Ryan sits back down and leans over to squeeze Shane’s hand. “You ready?” he asks.
Shane shrugs. “As I’ll ever be.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. He leans over and presses a gentle kiss to Shane’s lips, whispers “dramatic.” Then, he pulls back, straightens his spine, and turns to the camera.
“Hi everyone! Welcome back to my channel!” he greets. “Today I’m joined by my boyfriend, Shane Madej. Wave hi, Shane.”
Shane waves, a fake grimace plastered on his face. “I’m being forced here against my will,” he stage-whispers.
Ryan rolls his eyes again, slaps Shane’s arm. “Don’t pay any attention to him, he’s just mad he lost a bet.” Shane mouths ‘help me’ at the camera as Ryan continues. “So today Shane’s going to be doing my makeup!” He turns to Shane. “How good do you think you’ll be at this?”
“Not very,” Shane answers. “Although I’ve seen you do your makeup enough times that I think I’ve got a general idea of what I’m doing.”
Ryan shakes his head at the camera. Shane pretends not to notice him.
“Let’s dive right into it!” Ryan announces. He turns his body to face Shane’s. “Hit me, big guy.”
Shane suddenly feels overwhelmed by choice, afraid he’ll buckle under the weight of it. He reaches for a product that looks vaguely Ryan-colored and pours it out onto the back of his hand. It comes out quicker than intended, and he has to twist his wrist to keep from spilling onto his chair. “Careful with that!” Ryan admonishes.
Shane rolls his eyes. “Give me a break, this is my first time.” He picks up a sponge - he’s seen Ryan do this part before - and swipes some makeup up onto it. “So I just-” he motions vaguely with the sponge at Ryan’s face.
Ryan smiles at him. “I can’t tell you.”
Shane rolls his eyes again. He swipes Ryan’s face with the sponge, frustrated when it comes out streaky instead of smooth, like when Ryan does it. “I have no idea what I’m doing,” he mumbles. Ryan, ever the smug asshole, does nothing to help.
Eventually, Shane gets it even enough that he assumes it’s fine to move on. He goes for a bright pink round container next and flips it over to read the back. Tarte 12 hour blush in glisten . “Hey!” Ryan admonishes again. “You’re not allowed to read!”
“Shush,” Shane responds. “You’re not supposed to speak.”
Ryan glares at him but quiets nonetheless. Shane grabs a brush from the pile and presses it against the blush. He circles Ryan’s cheeks with the blush and “uh oh. That is a lot of blush.”
Ryan just shrugs, a smile on his face accentuating the bright pink of the blush. “You’re on your own, big guy.”
Shane puts the blush down and scrubs at Ryan’s cheek with his fingers. After a couple of swipes, it looks better - which is not to say good, but a vast improvement. He considers that a rousing success. He’s slightly less liberal with the blush on the other cheek, and when it isn’t as dark, he considers it another success.
Shane decides to move onto eyeshadow next. “What kind of eye look were you thinking, Shane?” Ryan asks when Shane reaches for a palette.
“Maybe like,” Shane looks up at his work thus far, and back down at the Anastasia Beverely Hills pro palette open in his lap, once again overwhelmed by choice. “Pink?”
Ryan snickers. “Pink?” he asks. “That’s your theme?”
“Shut up,” Shane answers. He grabs a smaller brush and brandishes it at Ryan. “Don’t shit talk the person who’s about to be in scary proximity to your eyeballs, mister.”
Ryan closes his eyes as Shane swipes the brush against the pink eyeshadow. He’s learned his lesson from the blush and doesn’t pack it on. He swipes it against Ryan’s eyelids gently, leaving color in his wake. He goes in for a second pass and nods appreciatively when it’s more pigmented. It doesn’t look horrible, so Shane announces, “you can open your eyes now.”
Ryan blinks his eyes open, the dark brown of his eyes now accentuated by the light pink eyeshadow. He’s gorgeous, but maybe Shane’s a bit biased. “You’re not going to do mascara?”
Shane shakes his head. “I don’t want to take your eye out for real.”
Ryan rolls his eyes. “Oh my god, you are such a big fucking baby.” When Shane doesn’t budge, Ryan holds up a fist. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
-
Which is how Shane winds up with a tube of mascara in his hands.
He’s seen Ryan do his mascara hundreds of times, but this is different. Because this time, the tube of mascara is in his hands, and it’s fair to say he doesn’t have the steady hands of a surgeon.
Ryan half closes his eyes, tilts his head up. Shane gets his left hand under Ryan’s chin to hold his head still, to which Ryan chortles. Shane ignores him, gently applies the mascara to the tips of Ryan’s eyelashes. He doesn’t get close enough for it to look right, but it doesn’t look horrible , and importantly, he hasn’t stabbed Ryan in the eye, which again reads like a rousing success.
“See, that wasn’t so bad, now was it?” Ryan asks. He holds up the death trap-cum-eyelash curler. “You wanna curl my lashes?” he asks.
“Nope!” Shane answers gleefully. He goes through the various tubes one at a time until he finds one that’s a liquid lipstick. It’s a bright red color, which doesn’t really go with his pink theme, but he thinks it would look pretty against Ryan’s skin. “Now shut up,” he says as he removes the cap. “And watch an artist at work.”
Ryan raises an eyebrow but does not speak. Shane gently paints Ryan’s lips, which is easier said than done. This, like the foundation, comes out streaky, and he goes a little bit over Ryan’s lips onto his skin, but it doesn’t look that bad. Sensing a theme with his art, Shane scrapes off some of the lipstick on Ryan’s thumb with his nail and then caps the lipstick.
Shane leans back to admire his art. When Ryan does his own makeup, it’s all bright colors - gorgeous yellows and reds that come together in a masterpiece; brights blending into darks in a way that makes him look ethereal, every time.
This is - it’s decidedly not that. But for Shane’s first foray into makeup, it’s not horrible. The colors go together okay, and aside from the streakiness, he feels like he got everything in place. “I’m done,” he declares.
“You’re done?” Ryan asks. He picks up a bottle and holds it out for Shane. “Wanna use some setting spray? It’ll keep your art in place.”
Shane really doesn’t want to keep his art in place, but he sprays Ryan’s face anyway. “There we go,” he declares. “I’m done, for real this time.”
Ryan picks up a mirror and looks at himself for the first time. He considers for a very long moment, and then says. “It’s not bad.” He turns to look at his cheek, his lips upturned in a smile. “I’m gonna be honest; you did go a little too hard on the blush.”
Shane holds his hands up in defense. “Hey man, I’m not a professional.”
Ryan goes through critiquing the look for the camera, but Shane tunes him out, instead focused on the way Ryan’s eyes light up when he talks about something he loves, the way the natural light through the window bounces off his skin, casts him in ethereal gold.
“So Shane!” Ryan says, clapping Shane back into existence. “Where can people find you on the web?”
“I’m Puppet Theater on YouTube. I do educational videos with puppets, but for adults. I would not recommend children watch these videos.” He frowns at Ryan’s smirk. “Not like that. They’re not sexy.”
Ryan holds his hands up. “And I’m @shanemadej on all the other platforms,” Shane concludes.
“Well there you have it!” Ryan says to the camera. “If you enjoyed that video and you aren’t subscribed already, please do so! Give this video a like; one like equals one hour that Shane will spend fine-tuning his makeup skills.” Shane scoffs. “You can find me on all social media @ryanbergara and I’ll see you next time. Bye!”
Shane waves to the camera as Ryan turns it off. Ryan gently puts all his equipment back as Shane watches. Even with his makeup looking, eh, less than stellar, he’s still the most beautiful person Shane’s ever seen. Sometimes, he envies Ryan’s ability to look effortlessly gorgeous. More than often, like now, he’s just grateful to be in Ryan’s presence.
Ryan turns when he feels Shane’s eyes on his back and throws Shane a blinding smile. “Hey, pervert,” he says. “Help put some of this makeup away.”
The two of them put Ryan’s carefully organized makeup back in silence. When they finish, Ryan turns to Shane. “You didn’t do that bad of a job,” he lies.
Shane wraps his arm around Ryan’s waist and pulls him in close. “The makeup is horrible,” he corrects. “It’s just that you’re so beautiful that no one would notice.”
Ryan rolls his eyes, even as his cheeks go even darker under the makeup. “You’re such a flirt,” he admonishes. He leans forward to kiss Shane, probably tinting Shane’s lips red.
Ryan pulls back from the kiss and runs his thumb across Shane’s lip. Shane presses a gentle kiss to it; Ryan looks dazed. “I’m going to go wash this off my face.”
“That’s probably a good idea,” Shane concurs. Ryan goes to pull away, but Shane stops him with a gentle hand on his wrist. “Do you think your audience is gonna like it?”
Ryan smiles back. “You kidding?” he asks. He turns Shane’s hand and presses a gentle kiss to his wrist. “It’s you. They’re going to love it.”
Shane watches Ryan walk away, a gentle smile pulling at his lips. He looks down at his wrist and traces the indent of lips on his skin. “Ryan Bergara,” he says to the lipstick on his wrist. “Next time, I am going to destroy you at beer pong.”
END