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“Noiz, I swear to god, if you don’t stop moving I’m going to rip your eyelashes out.”
“Hey, don’t you go threatening me with a good time.”
Noiz chortled. He then stilled in order to let his partner to clamp the press on his eyelashes. Mizuki gave a derisive snort as he pulled away the eyelash curler. For some reason, one night while the couple was huddled on the couch watching TV, Noiz requested for Mizuki do his makeup for a drag photoshoot sometime. Well, it wasn’t quite a request, per se, as it was a negotiation with some wicked force. In response to Mizuki’s teasing pondering, ‘And what if I don’t?’ Noiz’s dastardly reply was an alarmingly fast, ‘If you don’t, I’m going in your wig closet at night and cutting up all your wigs.’
And thus, here stands Mizuki; trying his best to paint Noiz’s mug without strangling him. He'd already wrestled a carton of hot wings out of the blond’s hands earlier, but somehow the younger man managed to continually materialize snacks out of nowhere. It was actually kind of amazing, Mizuki thought, wondering how such a lithe and scarcely-dressed human being could procure such items from what seemed to be an invisible hammer-space, only to be summoned by the likes of magic. He even made sure to give Noiz a thorough pat-down beforehand, occasionally flipping the baggy smock around his neck to make sure he didn’t sneak anything when he wasn’t looking. Mizuki, silently questioning if he was actually dating Mary Poppins in disguise, snatched the fresh can of Red Bull from Noiz’s hand and replaced it with a pack of false lashes to hold. Noiz hummed idly observing the small box while the artist turned to get the bottle of glue and mascara from his supplies.
“Don’t put more than three pairs on each eye. They’re full enough, and I don’t want to look like Snuffalupagus,” Noiz remarked as Mizuki turned back towards him. Mizuki- stifling a huff of laughter at the thought of Noiz as a large, shaggy muppet- agreed; the lashes, meant for theatrical use, were incredibly full and long, and having too many on at once could make the eyes appear heavy and droopy. Besides, Noiz didn’t need much more emphasis on his eyes: the lids below his angled, thinly-drawn brows were painted in neon greens and pinks, cut through with a sharply winged eyeliner whose color could only be described as ‘highlighter yellow’; the dab of vibrant, holographic glitter at the inner corner of the eyes sealing the deal. These were not simply attention-grabbing, oh no. These were attention-whoring. And as tacky as it was, the look just fit Noiz, and both Noiz and Mizuki knew it. There was something so alluring about Noiz’s style of drag, Mizuki thought as he carefully blew on the lashes and stuck them on Noiz’s face. While, of course, Noiz was just as attractive out of drag, there was something about him when he donned this different persona that was simply magnetic. Though it wasn’t really different, but rather... enhanced? Exaggerated? Played-out? Kitsch as fuck? It was hard for Mizuki to put into words, but Noiz’s naturally cocky attitude combined with his eccentric sense of humor, and a strange, tomboyish sort of elegance that was so completely and utterly Noiz, has managed to capture the eyes and hearts of many, including- and especially- Mizuki.
As he finished applying the last pair of lashes and turned to apply mascara, Mizuki realized how comfortable he felt doing Noiz’s makeup. He had to admit, he was anticipating the queen’s reaction upon seeing the finished look. But truthfully, everything- from the application of makeup, to the almost-intimate periods of silence that filled the room between the occasional cheeky remark- just felt so natural to Mizuki. There was a sense of pride, too, at the fact that the self-proclaimed “Meme Queen” had enough faith in Mizuki to entrust him with this job. Mizuki remembered how Noiz would talk about how he never let anyone else get him ready, and how the only person that would do his makeup would be himself. That being said, as brash and bratty Noiz could be, there was an unspoken sort of respect between the two males. It was a type of understanding that didn’t need to be put into words, it just worked.
Pulling away to close the bottle of mascara, Mizuki let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. Noiz's eyes flickered open at the sound.
“All good?” Noiz prompted. Mizuki blinked once before smiling, looking over his partner’s face and reviewing his work. Checking all the steps in his head to make sure he didn’t miss anything, he gave a nod.
“Yeah, all good. Think we’re almost done, let’s just seal this and get your lips done, then you’re free to get dressed and ready to go ahead with the shoot.”
“Cool. Make sure to use that bright pink gloss you have, so you can give me some shiny, pink, dick-sucking lips,” Noiz remarked, puckering his foundation-covered lips in emphasis. Mizuki rolled his eyes.
“Sure thing, your highness. Any other special requests?” Mizuki responded, grabbing the bottle of setting spray.
“Nah, don’t think so.”
The artist shrugged, quickly shaking the bottle and letting Noiz know when to close his eyes and hold his breath before he sprayed the bottle. As the product dried Mizuki carded through his bag of various crayons, bottles, and vials of lip colors, honing in on two shades of lipgloss. Keeping the blond’s request in mind, Mizuki opted to use a hot pink color on his lips, applying a lighter shade of pink to the center. Noiz wrinkled his nose in distaste at the obnoxiously-scented glosses with a grunt. Mizuki chuckled at his reaction before pulling away to twist the bottles closed. Once they were put away, Noiz shot his arm out from under the smock, hand open expectantly.
“Lemme see.”
Mizuki dug through his bag to dutifully give Noiz a mirror. The queen studied his reflection with razor sharp focus. Tilting his head and positioning the mirror this way and that, the spectacle was rather comical. After a few moments of Noiz’s intense staring at the mirror, Mizuki cleared his throat before speaking.
“So, what do you think?” he asked. He wasn’t actually nervous at all- he was confident enough in his abilities to know what he was doing and he trusted Noiz’s judgement well enough to know that he was a fit for the job. But it never hurt to ask, right?
Noiz rustled around from under his smock to set the mirror down on his lap, looking at Mizuki.
“I fucking love it,” Noiz blurted out, a giddy smile forming on brightly painted lips.
Mizuki beamed with pride at the praise and expression of clear delight at the praise, shuffling behind Noiz to untie the smock from around his neck and usher him out of the chair. “Now go get dressed and hurry up, or else you’ll be late for the photo shoot. I hope you have your wig and outfit prepared already, ‘cause if you take any more time, you’re gonna be in trouble.” Noiz's eyes crinkled in mischief at the brunet’s badgering, skipping behind him to playfully smack his behind.
“Oh, trouble? What, you gonna punish me?” Noiz snickered, running to the walk-in closet and slamming the door before Mizuki could catch her. Mizuki groaned in exasperation.
“You know what, maybe I should! Hell, I should be rewarded for putting up with you,” Mizuki shouted at the door before adding, “And you better not cut up my wigs!” This prompted a few more barks of laughter from Noiz before they both set upon their respective tasks.
For the next few minutes, Mizuki set upon cleaning up and putting away all the makeup as Noiz got dressed. Thankfully, it seemed that Noiz had anticipated how time-consuming the makeup would’ve been, as it didn’t take long for Noiz to emerge from the closet, now dressed. Wearing a faux-fur shrug over a corseted leotard cinched tightly at the waist, along with ripped, patterned tights and platform heels, Noiz flipped the choppy, blonde hair of her wig over her shoulder and placed a heavily-accessorized, gloved hand upon her padded hip.
“Tell me I look sickening.”