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“Loser wears makeup.”
Pezzy said like it was simple but to Droid: the words echoed across the stream like a joke that had gone too far but not far enough.
“Say it,” Pezzy insisted, pointing at Droid with dramatic flair. “Say it so the people know it’s real.”
Droid sighed through his nose and leaned toward his mic. “Whoever loses the challenge… gets their makeup done by the winner. Live. On stream. No backing out.”
Chat exploded.
PEZZY IN LIP GLOSS ARC?? LET’S GOOOOOO
MAKE HIM A BAD BITCH DROID
DROID’S TOO DOWN FOR THIS HELP
PEZZY IN MAKEUP=UNSTOPPABLE
Pezzy leaned back, already smug. “Good luck, bro. You’re gonna look like a clown.”
Droid didn’t look up from his controller. “You’re projecting.”
The first game lasted less than five minutes. Pezzy got sniped out of mid-air while taunting.
“Okay, okay,” he said, readjusting his headset. “Warm-up round. Didn’t count.”
“It counted,” Droid replied, dry as hell.
Pezzy’s laugh cracked through the mic. “Bro, I’m sweating. My palms are moist. That’s sabotage.”
“You’re just bad.”
“Lies.”
But the next few rounds didn’t do him any favors.
Game after game, Droid kept winning. Cleanly. Effortlessly. At one point, Pezzy actually knocked his own character off a ledge mid-dab, and Droid just stared into the camera like he was on The Office.
By round seven, Pezzy’s voice had taken on a slightly more desperate pitch. “Okay, but real talk—why are you actually trying? This was supposed to be funny, not a public execution.” He said with a pout.
Droid sipped his drink and shrugged. “I’m just committed to the bit.”
Chat rapid fired:
BIT??? HE’S TOO GOOD LMAO
PEZZY DOWN BAD AND DOWN FOUR ROUNDS
DROID ABOUT TO UNLOCK SOMETHING FR
By round ten, it was over. And Pezzy? Still very much the loser.
He slumped back in his chair and let out a long, dramatic sigh. “Okay. Fine. I submit. Paint me like one of your French girls, Droid.”
There was a beat of silence on stream.
Droid froze slightly, staring into the camera like he’d just realized the consequences of his own actions.
“…You know I actually bought makeup for this bit,” he muttered with a mischievous smile, opening a drawer.
“You what?”
“Like, actual stuff. I watched tutorials. I came prepared.”
“…You scare me,” Pezzy whispered, eyes wide.
“I should.”
The energy shifted when Pezzy moved over and sat in front of him, still facing the camera. He was quiet now, almost too quiet, with his knees pulled up in the gaming chair and his hands resting in his lap.
Droid leaned in. Closer than the camera angle really needed. “Ready?”
Pezzy smirked. “Always.”
But underneath the cocky delivery, Droid could see the nerves in his eyes.
And suddenly, this didn’t feel like just a joke.
Foundation went on first. The brush moved easily across Pezzy’s skin, and Droid was careful, not just because of the stream, but because… he didn’t want to mess this up. Not in a “the bit won’t land” kind of way. In a “I might actually remember this forever” kind of way.
His fingers brushed Pezzy’s cheek. Their eyes met, just for a second.
“You’re gonna make me look like a beauty guru,” Pezzy said softly, voice a little more breath than talk.
Droid swallowed. “That’s the point.”
Chat continued blowing up:
ITS CANON!!!!
HIS HANDS ARE SHAKINGGGGG
WHY IS THIS INTIMATE?!
I FEEL LIKE I SHOULDN’T BE WATCHING THIS
Then came eyeliner.
Droid leaned in even closer. Their knees bumped. The back of his hand rested lightly against Pezzy’s cheek to steady his aim.
“Don’t blink,” Droid warned.
“You’re in my soul, man.”
“Then stop breathing like a puppy.”
But Pezzy wasn’t laughing anymore. Not really. He was watching Droid—really watching him—like he knew something was happening here and wasn’t quite ready to name it.
And Droid? He was barely holding it together.
Mascara followed. Then blush. Each touch was slower, more deliberate. The stream chat faded into background noise. It was just them. Them and this weird weight in the room, this shift that neither of them knew what to do with.
And finally, lip gloss.
Pezzy puckered obnoxiously, obviously joking around. “Go ahead, bro. Make me sparkle.”
Droid hesitated.
He stared at Pezzy’s lips.
Too long.
Far too long.
His heart climbed into his throat.
“Droid?” Pezzy asked, quieter now.
“Yeah,” Droid said, voice low. “Just… hold still.”
His hands were cold. His fingers brushed the corner of Pezzy’s mouth, tilting his chin gently. The gloss applicator touched down like a whisper.
And that was it.
That was the moment it hit him like a train.
Pezzy looked gorgeous.
Not in a “haha funny bit” way.
In a real way.
Soft lashes. Blushed cheeks. Lips glossed and parted slightly. And eyes that said ‘I know what you’re thinking.’
Droid froze.
Chat was in hysterics:
WHY IS DROID STARINGGGG
KISS. HIM. KISS. HIM. KISSSSSHIMMMMMM
BRO IS GONEEEE
DREAM COME TRUE
“You good?” Pezzy asked again, softly this time.
Droid forced a laugh. “Yeah. You just—uh. You look good.”
Pezzy tilted his head. “Like, good-good? Or funny-good?”
Droid blinked.
“…Good-good.”
The silence stretched.
Then:
“You’re blushing,” Pezzy said, grinning now.
“No, I’m not.”
“You are. Oh my god, you’re flustered.”
“I am not flustered,” Droid insisted, very flustered.
“Say I’m pretty.”
“Stop.”
“Say it.”
Droid exhaled sharply. “You’re—god—you’re so annoying.”
Pezzy leaned in. “But pretty?”
Droid met his eyes. “…Yeah.” Without another word, Droid harshly moved forward, and with the click of a button:
[STREAM OFFLINE]
They sat in the quiet.
Pezzy didn’t move, happy to still be wearing the makeup. Still sitting in the glow of the ring light, but now it just lit the edges of something unspoken.
Droid’s chair creaked as he turned slightly.
“You okay?” Pezzy asked.
Droid nodded. Then shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
“Because of the makeup?”
“…Because of you.”
Pezzy’s mouth opened. Closed. Then curled into the softest smile Droid had ever seen from him.
“You really think I look good?” he asked again.
Droid looked away. “I didn’t just think it.” He looked like he wanted to curl into a ball and hide under the nearest rock.
Pezzy leaned in, voice warm. “You know this is just gonna make things weirder now, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And you’re okay with that?”
Droid finally looked up.
“…I think I want it to be.”
Pezzy grinned. “Then maybe next time you lose.”
Droid raised a brow. “You’d put makeup on me?”
“Nah,” Pezzy said, a soft smirk on his lips. “I’d just kiss you.”
And Droid… well, he didn’t argue.