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“Errrr… What’s going on?”
Simon stood in the doorway, unsure if he should leave.
“Felice is doing Wille’s makeup,” Sara said, flicking a page of her book and not looking up.
And, yes, that bit was clear. Maybe Simon’s question should have been—
“But… why?”
Felice twisted around, eyeliner pencil poised. “Why not?” she challenged.
“Simon thinks makeup is a waste of time,” Sara said.
Unfortunately, Simon wasn’t listening. Because now that Felice had moved, he had a clear view of Wille’s face.
It was still tipped up to Felice, waiting for her to return to her previous task. Her previous task which had apparently been applying eyeliner. To his eyes. Thick black smudges on his bottom lashline.
Wille blinked a couple of times and then looked at Simon. His face broke into a radiant grin. “What do you think?”
Simon wasn’t thinking. There wasn’t a single thought going through Simon’s mind. He swallowed just as Sara huffed. “I told you he doesn’t care about makeup.”
“Oh.” Felice’s voice had an amused lilt. “I think Simon is changing his mind.”
“Fuck off,” he murmured. There was no venom behind it. Because, fuck, Felice was right. Simon was definitely changing his mind. In fact, his entire world view had just been turned upside down.
Because Wille looked good. Simon always thought that. But today Wille looked really good. Sara was right, Simon didn’t care about makeup. She used to do his when they were younger, but he hated how long it took to take off, so he’d stopped letting her.
And, of course, he mostly saw makeup on girls, and that did absolutely nothing for him.
This however…
Felice giggled, wiggling her eyebrows at him.
“Fuck offffff,” he whined.
“What?” Wille said, nonplussed. “What’s going on?”
“Simon likes your makeup,” Felice replied, turning back to Wille.
“You do?” Wille asked, letting Felice tip his chin up as she finished smudging his right eye.
Simon made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat.
“Oh, he does,” Felice said, concentrating on her masterpiece. “Don’t you worry.”
***
The whole evening it had felt like Simon’s skin was buzzing.
Felice had finished Wille’s makeup, then the four of them had settled down to watch a movie.
Simon thought it was unreasonable for them to expect him to do that when Wille looked like that. But Felice had already made him feel ridiculous. So he kept his mouth shut, bit down on the inside of his cheek, and carefully readjusted himself every few minutes.
Once the movie was over, Felice and Sara retired to their room with synchronised yawns.
“Bed?” Wille asked.
“Mhm.” Simon was very proud of how nonchalant he sounded.
Wille pressed a kiss to his cheek. “I’ll just go and brush my teeth and take this off my face.”
Simon’s hand shot out quicker than his brain could catch up, grabbing Wille’s wrist just as he made to stand up off the sofa.
Wille looked down at him in confusion. “What?”
“Don’t.”
“Don’t… what?”
“Don’t… take the eyeliner off.”
Heat rushed to Simon’s cheeks as Wille grinned at him. “Do you like it?”
Simon dropped his head to Wille’s hand, which was still gripped in his own. “Fuck offfffff,” he groaned, wiggling his head to and fro to try to grind out the embarrassment.
Wille leant down, tipping Simon’s chin back. “Okay,” he said, voice low, making heat pool in Simon’s lower belly. For a moment, he just held Simon’s gaze and Simon could do nothing but wait with bated breath. “If you want,” Wille murmured. “I’ll keep the eyeliner on.”