Work Text:
You carefully traced Xavier’s jawline with the brush, dragging it all the way from behind his ear to the tip of his chin. You could see his eyebrows furrow and a tense smile forming on his lips as he tried his best to sit still for you to finish his make up.
“Don’t move or I’ll have to start over,” you threatened with empty words, but those were enough to get him even more nervous. He was a pile of tension, a castle of cards at the verge of crumbling into helpless laughter.
“I-I’m trying…” Xavier whimpered softly, his eyelids trembling and the corner of his lips pulling up when you moved the brush down to the sides of his neck, spreading the foundation. “I-it tihickles…”
“I know,” you muttered softly, feeling his hands clenching under your knees. You carefully added the shading, dolling him up bit by bit while watching the light, feathery and harmless tickles reducing the Xavier you knew so well to a puddle of giggles. “But you need to look good on camera, even as a stuntman.”
“I cahan just- pfft… w-wehear the mask,” he protested, gasping softly as you held his face by his chin. His eyes finally met yours and you could swear there were little tears clinging at his lashes. How badly was it tickling him, anyway? You chuckled.
“You can’t, if you and the main actor look different on camera, people will notice and the movie will be criticized for bad characterization.”
You tilted his head back and to the sides, trying to see if everything was still in place after that much work. Gladly, and luckily for him, it didn’t look like you’d need to redo any of the make up. “You look good, Xavier.”
“D-do I?” He sighed, finally getting a break from all the torment that makeup brush inflicted on him, “all I could pay attention to was you tickling me.”
“I was doing your makeup,” you retorted, eying him with the corner of his eyes as you placed back the tools in the case, rummaging through it while looking for something else, “not tickling you. If I were tickling you, I-”
“W-wait,” Xavier giggled nervously, his hand escaping your makeshift restrain to hold your wrist, “I know. I d-don’t need a demonstration.”
“Smart boy,” you smirked, picking the lipstick opening and quickly popping off the lid, “well, we are almost done.”
“Just in time,” he nodded, watching your hands, “the director won’t scold us for taking too much time this time.”
“Yes,” you added, applying the lipstick on your own lips instead of his. Xavier watched you with curiosity.
It was not like he understood anything about makeup, but the question ‘shouldn’t you be doing that on my lips?’ did cross his mind watching the scene.
“Stay still now, I can mess this up,” you warned before gently holding him by the back of his head, pressing a kiss over his lips. After a couple seconds, you pulled back. “There…”
“A-ah,” Xavier gasped, feeling you brush his lower lip with your index finger, “fixing” the color, “t-thank you.”
“I’m not a good makeup artist, thought,” you warned, “we might need to redo it after a couple shots…”