Work Text:
“Come on, boy, we don’t got all day sitting around waiting for you,” the young woman was scrolling on her phone sitting in her designated chair in the dressing room shared by a few other models who were also part of the photoshoot for Glory Magazine’s newest issue of spring fashion by the head designer of Excellent Era House, Ye Xiu.
The bustling conversations of the other models and their assistants halted at the shrill comment of the woman, as if someone had pressed the mute button in the room, and everyone present was careful not to break the silence as they continued putting on makeup, or getting their hair styled, all the while watching from the corner of their eyes as drama seemed about to be unfold.
Yu Wenzhou’s hand paused over the woman’s face, a blending brush held delicately between the fingers of his right hand while his left hand was balancing a small eyeshadow palette. He had been in the middle of doing the model’s eye makeup, layering the colours carefully to create the specific look that complimented the flowing, flowery dress that she was about to put on for the photoshoot, when the model made that offhand comment.
Yu Wenzhou knew he wasn’t the fastest in the editorial MUA circle; in fact, he was one of the newer hires of Blue Rain Agency, a fresh graduate out of the city’s best cosmetology school and he got hired not because of his efficiency but due to Wei Chen’s belief in his meticulous yet artistic flair that’d blown him away during the job interview. After he’d started working for Blue Rain, he’d been sent to a few runway shows around the country to do makeup looks backstage, and although there was technically nothing wrong with the results, it was the speed – or lack thereof – that was ultimately his Achilles heel.
Runway shows were all about switching out garments and changing makeup and hairstyles as quickly as possible to display the many pieces of clothing from that line, and the sheer time pressure to transform multiple models into multiple themes and looks in itself was tough enough that even Yu Wenzhou admitted he would be better suited for other work environments that allowed him the time to work his magic.
Noticing that the makeup artist had stopped what he was doing, the model’s patience ran even thinner. She narrowed her eyes, which made the unset powders on her lids sink deeper into the fine lines of her skin in a very unbecoming manner that would require even more time to fix later, and glared up at Yu Wenzhou, snarling with a sharp tone, “what? Why did you stop? Do you think I’m wrong?”
When Yu Wenzhou didn’t reply, only calmly taking a step back from her chair and placing his tools on the counter, the model assumed the young and inexperienced makeup artist was frightened by her scolding, which gave her a thrilling sense of satisfaction, so she kept pushing.
“I really should file a complaint to your agency,” the woman continued with a malicious curl to her lips, “I specifically requested Huang Shao to do my makeup today, and who the hell does Blue Rain send me? A cripple who can’t even put on eyeshadows properly! Look what you’ve done, look at all these kickbacks on my cheeks! Ugh, now I have to clean it up myself. I still need to put on the dress and I have to be on set in ten minutes. You—”
The woman lifted up a finger pointing accusingly up at the makeup artist, who at this point, still hadn’t said anything to defend himself, though it didn’t appear it was due to the fact that he was timid in nature or was scared by the woman’s unreasonable criticism, but before the acrylic-tipped finger could even touch Yu Wenzhou’s chest, a hand snatched her wrist in a firm grip. The strength was not enough to bruise, but for whatever reason, the woman had a feeling that the owner of that hand would not hesitate to break her wrist if she didn’t withdraw.
Still, irritated by the interruption, she turned and glared at the person who interfered with her tirade.
“If you don’t let go, I’m going to call security.”
The man didn’t seem bothered by her empty threat, but he did let her arm go before he continued in a cold drawl, “Ms. Liu, don’t you think that’s quite enough?”
“Hah? What is it to you? Who the hell are you anyway?”
“Wang Jiexi, from Tiny Herb Modelling Agency,” he briskly introduced himself.
“I’m sorry, who?” she sneered, now positive that this kid was just another newcomer who didn’t know the unspoken rule of seniority in this industry. If he knew who she was, he wouldn’t dare talk back to her with such disrespect.
“Does it matter?” Wang Jiexi asked rhetorically, and he could hear a quiet collective gasp from the group around them watching the show with metaphorical bags of popcorn in their hands, because of course it fucking mattered, especially in this context. Not that anyone was brave enough to come out and say it, or drag the two clueless novices out of trouble. People – both models and assistants alike – who’d been in this industry long enough all had witnessed once or twice some diva who thought they were the one and only up and coming China’s next top model throwing a tantrum over the tiniest little thing.
This kind of scene was nothing new, yet no one in the dressing room except for Wang Jiexi was willing to step up and prevent the situation from worsening in fear of offending the woman.
“Don’t you know who I am?”
“Liu Fei, been modeling for about three years, got into the spotlight earlier this year walking for Misty Rain House’s Elementals line,” Wang Jiexi said in such an indifferent tone without missing a beat like he was memorizing a passage from a textbook, “yes I know who you are, Ms. Liu.”
Liu Fei’s flabbergasted expression, when combined with the half-finished makeup look, made her look even more ridiculous, but nobody dared let out a peep of laughter.
Wang Jiexi continued as if he hadn’t just personally offended the poor, speechless woman, “look, we’re all here to work, but you’re causing a scene that’s distracting everyone here from doing their jobs.”
“You little—!”
“Ah, Liu-jie, why don’t you let Minghua-ge help you finish up?”
One of the other assistants, an easygoing young man by the name of Jiang Botao (better known in the modelling industry as Samsara Inc.’s star model Zhou Zekai’s personal translator), finally piped up with a bright and harmless smile, sacrificing their team’s own makeup artist for the cause.
Fang Minghua turned to give Jiang Botao a seething look before turning back to face the woman with a tight, nervous smile.
Liu Fei bit her lip. Zhou Zekai was pretty much the country’s fashion designers’ favourite top male model right now, and if anything, she’d rather get on the good side of the handsome yet socially-awkward young man and his team of staff than to say something that would negatively impact her future career path later.
“Fine,” Liu Fei allowed in a clipped tone, twisted around in her seat to face the mirror expectantly as Fang Minghua, like a criminal getting ready to take his last walk to the gallows, grabbed his makeup kit and scurried over to get started before the woman changed her mind.
Clearly having been cast aside, Yu Wenzhou tidied up the counter to allow Fang Minghua to take his place.
The elder makeup artist sent him a sympathetic look, which Yu Wenzhou accepted with a slight nod. As he passed by the Samsara team, he also mouthed his thanks towards Jiang Botao and Zhou Zekai.
Jiang Botao patted his shoulder in encouragement, but that really was all he could do.
Glancing around the once more buzzing dressing room, Yu Wenzhou spotted his savior, who’d quietly made his way back to his own little corner to focus on his own hair and makeup. It seemed that no stylist was assigned to the man, which probably meant that Wang Jiexi was a fairly new addition to the agency and therefore didn’t have the seniority to have a personal assistant or stylist of any sort, leaving him to fend for his own.
“Thank you for stepping in, Mr. Wang,” Yu Wenzhou had waltzed to the back of the model’s seat without the man’s noticing, as he had been too concentrated on getting his hair just right with the strong chemical scent of hairspray lingering like a cloud above his head. His vibrant green eyes — eye, Yu Wenzhou noticed, as only his right eye could be seen, while his left was hidden behind a carefully-styled curtain of caramel-brown forelocks — widened just a slight degree at the sudden appearance of Yu Wenzhou.
He hadn’t planned to interfere. Afterall, all it would take was one wrong step and the word was going to spread about his disrespectful attitude, rumors about him would start to roll uncontrollably, which would inevitably bite him in the ass and cost him any future opportunities that would allow him to enter deeper into the fashion world than just as a mere model, a human clothes hanger, as some would say with a mocking sneer.
He didn’t want to just wear the clothes and display them to a stoic and passive audience on a catwalk or in a set of airbrushed photos on the shiny pages of a popular fashion magazine; he wanted to create his own lines of clothing that would showcase his own perspectives and ideas.
And to do that, he had to first get his foot in the door. He had signed a contract that would tie himself to Tiny Herb, but the agency had also promised him funding to support his artistic pursuits once he started getting a steady stream of jobs after he’d shown the man who would eventually become his representing agent sketchbooks filled with his colourful and at times, ridiculously impractical but wonderful, clothing designs.
Wang Jiexi wasn’t the type to stick his nose into other people’s business, but when he overheard Liu Fei insulting Yu Wenzhou and saw how frustratingly calm the makeup artist had been taking it all in, a rising sense of livid annoyance churned dangerously inside of him, as if the woman had been insulting him personally and not some poor, fresh-faced makeup artist Wang Jiexi had never even talked to or seen before this job. Before he knew it, he had strode over to the pair and ripped her a new one, to the disbelief and amusement of the other models and staff present in the room.
It was obvious at once that Liu Fei was not used to people talking back to her when she was on a tirade, and the satisfaction of shooting her down was almost worth it, if only it would give the rest of the group some peace of mind as they prepare for the photoshoot, and relieve Yu Wenzhou from being bullied further, but he was definitely expecting to get an earful from Lin Jie when he got back to the agency.
“Just Jiexi is fine,” Wang Jiexi corrected him right away, his tone barely shifting from its usual aloof drawl.
“I would have handled the situation just fine, Jiexi,” Yu Wenzhou continued, enunciating the other man’s name so smoothly like they’d been friends for years, his lips curving up into a small smile, “but I appreciate your help nevertheless.”
“Are you sure you have everything under control back there?” Wang Jiexi glanced back at the makeup artist through the mirror’s reflection. Now that he was looking at Yu Wenzhou properly, he saw that despite the plain almond-toned turtleneck that stretched across his shoulders very nicely, black jeans that accentuated his legs a little too well, and the navy blue suit jacket that tie up the whole austere style, the man’s own makeup was also very minimal.
A thin layer of foundation made his complexion almost flawless, the oceanic blue of his irises emphasized by a simple flick of navy-black eyeliner, and his lips were bare except for the subtlest shine from a swipe of translucent gloss that made his mouth even more sensuous when it was curled up gently into a grin.
“Just because I wasn’t talking back didn’t mean I was in trouble,” Yu Wenzhou said, and he took the continuation of their conversation as an invitation to settle his back against the counter so that he could face the model properly. He’d noticed earlier when they were standing close that Wang Jiexi had a few centimeters over him in height – a negligible difference when one of them was sitting down – but he could easily imagine the model towering over him in another, much more pleasant situation…
Wang Jiexi raised his brow in doubt.
“She was about to lay a hand on you,” the model reminded him, shifting his gaze back to the mirror to fix a particularly stubborn lock of hair that refused to stay in place.
“And I would have had my own way of dealing with that,” Yu Wenzhou assured him with a finality to his gentle voice that signified the end of this particular conversation, which Wang Jiexi was only too happy to.
Seeing his struggle, Yu Wenzhou took a small jar out of his own kit, dabbed the tip of his middle finger in to take a small dollop of the waxy product and warmed it between his fingers.
“May I?” he asked, tilting his head a little to the side, the smallest hint of a smile still tainting his lips.
Wang Jiexi paused only slightly, and then nodded his permission.
The makeup artist turned Wang Jiexi’s chair so that the model was now facing him to the side. With the kind of meticulous gestures that could rival a seamstress’ precision and grace, Yu Wenzhou began to card through the man’s hair with the product, occasionally pinching the strands to style them in certain angles.
“The spray you were using is more for volumizing,” Yu Wenzhou started to explain as his fingers continued their ministrations, fingernails periodically scratching against the sensitive skin of the other man’s scalp and behind his ears, the sensation so hypnotizing that Wang Jiexi almost found his eyes slipping close more than a few times. “If you want your hair to stay in place but still want flexibility, it’s best to use styling wax.”
“Hmm,” Wang Jixi made a noise to let him know he was listening. “I didn’t realize you’re also a hairstylist.”
If Yu Wenzhou wasn’t misinterpreting, he would almost think the model was teasing him with a mischievous tenor, though it was still difficult to tell since his face remained neutrally composed.
“You pick up little tidbits of skills here and there,” Yu Wenzhou shrugged, his smile deepening when he saw that Wang Jiexi was looking back at him with a curious gaze. “There we go. What do you think?”
Wang Jiexi turned to face the mirror once more, and was surprised by the huge difference that small amount of product was able to make to his hair; not only did his locks seemed more fluffy and matte, but even after he shook his head vigorously, the way his hair fell back into place exuded an easy, naturally chaotic style as well.
“Not too bad,” Wang Jiexi allowed, and Yu Wenzhou couldn’t help but laugh, the sound delicate and smoky deep, and if he didn’t have a professional reputation to maintain, the model wouldn’t think twice and sweep the makeup artist into the closest empty room to have his wicked way with him.
Surprised by the sudden onslaught of intruding thoughts regarding a man he barely knew, Wang Jiexi swallowed hard and attempted — with little success — to suppress the inappropriate fantasy to the very back of his mind.
“High standards, huh?” Yu Wenzhou wiped his fingers clean with some paper towels, all the while keeping his eyes trained on the other man.
“You did well,” Wang Jiexi murmured much more softly this time, looking away slightly to avoid meeting Yu Wenzhou’s gaze. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome.”
Yu Wenzhou glanced around. Liu Fei had already left the room with her garments on to head over to the studio to have the first set of photos taken, which effectively made the atmosphere of the entire room instantly brighter and more casual than before. Still, everyone was too busy with their own jobs to pay any attention to the two newbies in the corner.
“Well, I suppose there’s nothing else for me to do here. I should take my leave,” Yu Wenzhou had picked up his makeup kit and was about to go. Wei Chen would pester him with questions once he realized his apprentice had returned to the office too early, and Yu Wenzhou would have to fess up that he’d somehow managed to annoy another agency’s model so much so that she’d literally sent him packing.
“Would you—” Wang Jiexi started, and then abruptly froze, realizing belatedly that he’d reached out to wrap his fingers around the other man’s wrist to stop him from leaving without thinking the action through.
Yu Wenzhou glanced down at the hand that was still being held by the other man, and Wang Jiexi immediately let him go like he’d been scorched by invisible flames.
“Would you do my makeup?” Wang Jiexi finally uttered, his gaze first shifting away, and then he thought better of it and decided to look at the makeup artist straight in the eye, the gleam in his irises striking with a quiet sort of intense determination that startled Yu Wenzhou momentarily. “If it’s not too much trouble,” he added almost sheepishly as an afterthought.
To Wang Jiexi’s relief, Yu Wenzhou came back in a few strides and set his makeup kit down once again on the counter.
“If you’re not in a hurry, I’d be happy to.”
“I’m in the last group to be photographed on the schedule,” Wang Jiexi reassured him. “We have plenty of time, I’m sure.”
“Wenzhou, will you do my makeup?”
When Yu Wenzhou poked his head out of their shared bathroom, steam still flowing out from the aftermath of a long, hot shower and his hair moist and tousled from his careless toweling, he saw that Wang Jiexi had already dressed himself and styled his hair for the day.
He came out with only his boxers on, and a towel around his neck to catch any stray droplets from the tips of his hair; his pale skin had turned rosy from the warm water and glistening with remnant moisture that didn’t yet have time to evaporate. It was an image that was all too alluring first thing in the morning for the model-turned-designer, who could admit to himself that he was only human and therefore, couldn’t be exempted from the sweet temptation in the form of a freshly-showered Yu Wenzhou.
“Don’t you have a meeting with your team to attend this morning?” Yu Wenzhou asked as he made his way to the closet to pull out the items that he was going to don that day: a two-toned cream lavender and deep violet button-down dress shirt, night-black slacks that might or might not be half a size too small to show off his shapely legs, and a light hazel-colored overcoat to top it all off.
“Your point?” Wang Jiexi raised his brow in defiance from the foot of the bed where he was sitting cross legged.
“I don’t want to make you late,” Yu Wenzhou chuckled as he continued to button up his shirt. His trousers were undone and were threatening to slide off his hips, which Wang Jiexi suspected that the makeup artist was doing on purpose.
“But I want you to make me pretty,” Wang Jiexi pouted, which, to anyone who only knew the man in passing, was not an expression they’d expect the always seemingly serious and strict designer with an aloof attitude and sharp wit was capable of making, yet here they were.
“You’re already pretty,” Yu Wenzhou swooped down and placed a soft, indulgent kiss on his lover’s forehead, and then pinched his cheek playfully before laughing at the other man’s indignant frown.
“It doesn’t count when you’re the one saying it,” Wang Jiexi said, easily pulling Yu Wenzhou in by the forearm to cause the man to fall right into his lap. The warm, woodsy-citrusy cologne Yu Wenzhou had sprayed on invaded his senses as he nuzzled the man’s neck, mumbling against the sensitive skin there, “you’re my boyfriend. You’re supposed to say shit like that.”
“Doesn’t make it any less true though, does it?” Yu Wenzhou twisted around and hooked his arms loosely over Wang Jiexi’s shoulders, pulling the man closer until their foreheads touched and they were breathing into each other’s scent. Their lips were tantalizingly close; either of them could have eased the pathetic distance with a simple lean and push, and they would be kissing, breathless, intoxicating, addicting.
And then Wang Jiexi would definitely be late for his meeting.
“You just have such a way with words, don’t you, Yu-laoshi,” Wang Jiexi teased, one corner of his mouth curved up into a smirk as he landed a quick and dirty kiss against Yu Wenzhou’s lips before pulling away into a safer distance.
Yu Wenzhou rolled his eyes, his lips tingling pleasantly from the friction, but the kiss had done its job. He got off from Wang Jiexi’s lap, to the man’s dismay, but he only strolled barefoot to the dresser to grab a few essential makeup items from the tabletop and then he was making his way back to the bed, perching atop Wang Jiexi once more.
“You’ve moisturized?”
“Of course.”
Yu Wenzhou seemed pleased by the answer.
After quickly applying a thin layer of translucent primer for Wang Jiexi, Yu Wenzhou opened up a foundation cushion, took the sponge that came with the compact and carefully dabbed a small amount of product to pat out the excess on the back of his hand. When he deemed the coverage acceptable, he began to attentively apply the foundation in meticulous taps and strokes, first along his cheekbones, under his eyes, across his forehead, on his chin and lastly the bridge of his nose.
Because they were sitting so close to each other, it was impossible for Wang Jiexi to not stare at Yu Wenzhou’s face, every slightest shift of expressions evident before the designer’s observant gaze. He loved the man’s tendency to pucker his brows when he was focused on his work, and the way the tip of his tongue sometimes darted out to lick his lower lip when the makeup wasn’t applying the way he wanted it to.
“Hey, Wenzhou.”
Wang Jiexi gradually opened his eyes when he felt the first step was done.
“Hmm?”
Yu Wenzhou placed the compact down on the mattress and reached for the stick of cream concealer, which he put a little bit of on the tip of his middle finger and started to gently tap on the specific spots that required extra veiling.
“Do you remember the first time you put makeup on me?”
A momentary pause of silence as Yu Wenzhou started the next step in the routine: applying contour and highlight. With a palette in hand and a big fluffy brush in the other, he set out to carve light and shadow on Wang Jiexi’s face, highlighting the bridge of his nose and softening the sharpness of his cheekbones.
“Reminiscing about our past already? We’ve only been dating for about a year, you know,” Yu Wenzhou eventually answered.
“Shh, you’re ruining the moment.”
“Okay, fine,” Yu Wenzhou didn’t mind playing along, and so to indulge in his lover’s whims, he continued, “I do remember, and no offense to you, but I wouldn’t put that into my list of top five looks I’ve ever created. Not even top ten, actually. But what about it?”
They could joke about it now, but they were both going through tougher times back then.
He remembered a younger Wang Jiexi, much less sociable than he was now, and so adorably awkward when he tried to convey kindness to others, stuttering when he requested Yu Wenzhou to do his makeup for him when the model he’d been initially assigned to had essentially discarded him.
Based on the garment designs and the overarching theme of the line, each model’s makeup was done in slight variations. There wasn’t a specific look that Ye Xiu wanted, as he liked to encourage creativity when the assignment allowed for it, so after consulting the notes that Wang Jiexi had lend him, and having taken a look at the garment Wang Jiexi was to wear later that day, Yu Wenzhou’s mind soon constructed a western-fantasy woodland elf-inspired look.
The end result, when the makeup artist thought back on it years later, was a little cringey, to say the least. The protruding flower that peeked out from Wang Jiexi’s bangs, which had initially covered one of his eyes, was the centerpiece (it was a bit excessive, sure, but he was trying to make a statement, okay?), the color scheme a perfect match to the ivory and pale green of his gauzy floral shirt and dark suit pants.
Ye Xiu, who was supervising the photoshoot in the studio and adjusting the garments on the models as needed, gave a low whistle when he saw Wang Jiexi stepped into the set in all his spring blossoming glory. When the designer didn’t send him back to the dressing room, Wang Jiexi could only assume that Yu Wenzhou’s makeup look was at least respectable in the designer’s eyes.
Yu Wenzhou didn’t think that moment when he’d decided to accept the model’s request would lead both men down a path of friendship, and eventually a romantic relationship, in years to come.
“Oy, Yu Wenzhou, are you listening?”
He’d just finished drawing along the upper waterline with a chocolate brown eyeliner that would soften Wang Jiexi’s overall severe look when he was pulled back into the current moment by his lover’s voice.
Wang Jiexi absolutely detested having tightlining done, because he had a very strong blink reflex that was basically every makeup artist’s worst nightmare, but somehow, when Yu Wenzhou was the one handling the eyeliner pencil, he felt a lot calmer, and his tendency to squeeze his eyes shut every time a freshly sharpen eyeliner got close to his eyeballs just melted away into the background with Yu Wenzhou’s gentle reassurances and patient coaching.
“Yes?”
Yu Wenzhou’s smile was suspiciously innocent and eyes round and bright like a student not paying attention who got caught by the teacher and was trying his best to act the part of a goody-two-shoes. Sometimes it worked; other times, not so much.
Wang Jiexi couldn’t talk at the moment because on one hand, Yu Wenzhou was applying a moisturizing balm with the subtlest pink tint on his lips, and on the other hand, the way the makeup artist was so ardently staring at his mouth (even though Wang Jiexi knew, logically, that Yu Wenzhou’s eyes needed to be focusing on there in order to put on the balm properly, and he wasn’t doing it because he was trying to seduce him or anything ridiculous like that) made his throat run tight and dry.
It almost made him forget the reason he brought up their first encounter.
Damn it.
When Yu Wenzhou completed the last step of dusting some finishing powder all over his complexion, Wang Jiexi’s brain had rebooted enough to put a sentence together again.
He grasped Yu Wenzhou’s hands and caged them in his slightly larger ones.
The makeup artist glanced back at him inquisitively, but didn’t say anything, merely waiting.
“Wenzhou…”
“Hmm?”
“Yu Wenzhou…”
“...yes?”
“I think… I had already fallen for you that first day we met.”
Well, Yu Wenzhou was definitely not expecting this serious confession that seemed to have come out of nowhere this morning, and if he were being honest with himself, wasn’t he just the same?
If it hadn’t been Wang Jiexi standing by his side for all these years during the ups and downs of both of their careers, despite living in different cities during most of that time period, encouraging him when he was down over late night video calls, sharing with him the happiness and success on reaching a new subscriber milestone for his makeup tutorial and lifestyle YouTube channel, and in turn, Wang Jiexi sending him sketches of his work-in-progress, and ultimately inviting him to the capital city to be the head MUA for a photoshoot featuring the model’s debut fashion line as a designer — all these little and significant threads of moments added up and their bond had, unbeknownst to either of them, weaved tightly and intimately together into a fabric strong enough to construct armor that would defend them against the atrocities of the world, yet simultaneously supple enough to create an encompassing cloak of comforting warmth and inspiration.
“As sweet as your confession may be, Jiexi,” Yu Wenzhou whispered against the corner of his lover’s lips, the peachy-rose fragrance of the lip balm making it very difficult for the man to maintain his focus as the temptation to kiss him squarely in the mouth was rising quickly, the desire to consume the man before him once more just as he did the night before threatening to suffocate him, ridding him of his usual composure, “you’re running late.”
“Shit.”
Yu Wenzhou snickered even as he got shoved off of Wang Jiexi’s lap. The designer scrambled off of the bed and almost tripped over his own foot to get to the doorway to retrieve his work messenger bag lying haphazardly against the door frame.
“Love you!” Yu Wenzhou called out when he heard the telltale sounds of keys tinkling – that would be Wang Jiexi grabbing the set of keys hooked by the apartment’s entryway. He picked himself up and languidly made his way in his bare feet to see his partner off with a lazy wave and a smile that brightened up the usual deep blue of his eyes.
And every time Wang Jiexi saw that smile, his mind, body, and soul captivated solely by the fond expression that Yu Wenzhou saved only for him, he thought to himself yet again how lucky he was – how lucky they’d both been, to have met each other at the time that they did.
“Love you, too.”