He spends half of their "prep" time feeling ridiculous and overly warm and as keyed up as if he'd drank a Red Bull before they began.
And the other half not able to decide exactly how he feels because he's trying to figure out what Neal is feeling - what Neal is thinking - as Neal carefully arranges a wig on top of Mike's head. As Neal sponges liquid "foundation" and brushes pressed powder onto Mike's skin. Mike closes his eyes and lets Neal meticulously apply eye shadow to Mike's eyelids. His eyes flutter open as soon as he feels Neal stop, and Mike's breath catches at the intent way Neal is staring at him... The way Mike's caught Neal staring at a piece of art before, at one of his own sculptures. But then Neal smiles; he winks, and he tells Mike, "No peaking. I'm not done yet." So Mike closes his eyes and lets Neal apply eyeliner and mascara to Mike's eyes as well.
Yes, Mike is hard. At first he can tell himself it's just because he and Neal are sitting so near to one another, so still... breathing one another's breath, each other's scent (Mike's is different today; he smells like himself but, on top of that, like the floral soap Neal gave him to use, like the feminine hair products and cosmetics Neal bought for this... project). Mike tells himself it's the way Neal keeps touching his face - so, so softly - as he puts on Mike's make-up... or the gentle way he holds Mike's chin to keep Mike's face still as he applies Mike's blush... Who wouldn't get turned on by having Neal put lipstick on them? Neal's fingers cupping the curve of Mike's jaw... the slide of the lipstick slowly over each curve of Mike's lips... And, seriously, make-up brushes must be, like, sextoys girls just keep really quiet about so they can store them on their vanity tops instead of hiding them away like vibrators. Every time Neal brushes the fine bristles of the rouge brush over Mike's cheekbones, Mike feels the tickle in his toes. And he laughs, and Neal apologizes, sheepish, but it's really not the kind of tickle Neal would feel sorry for if he knew that Mike only giggled to swallow down a moan.
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timeasmymeasure
Fill: Like a Lady (At Least While Someone's Looking) PG-13 1/4
Date: 2012-05-25 05:37 pm (UTC)And the other half not able to decide exactly how he feels because he's trying to figure out what Neal is feeling - what Neal is thinking - as Neal carefully arranges a wig on top of Mike's head. As Neal sponges liquid "foundation" and brushes pressed powder onto Mike's skin. Mike closes his eyes and lets Neal meticulously apply eye shadow to Mike's eyelids. His eyes flutter open as soon as he feels Neal stop, and Mike's breath catches at the intent way Neal is staring at him... The way Mike's caught Neal staring at a piece of art before, at one of his own sculptures. But then Neal smiles; he winks, and he tells Mike, "No peaking. I'm not done yet." So Mike closes his eyes and lets Neal apply eyeliner and mascara to Mike's eyes as well.
Yes, Mike is hard. At first he can tell himself it's just because he and Neal are sitting so near to one another, so still... breathing one another's breath, each other's scent (Mike's is different today; he smells like himself but, on top of that, like the floral soap Neal gave him to use, like the feminine hair products and cosmetics Neal bought for this... project). Mike tells himself it's the way Neal keeps touching his face - so, so softly - as he puts on Mike's make-up... or the gentle way he holds Mike's chin to keep Mike's face still as he applies Mike's blush... Who wouldn't get turned on by having Neal put lipstick on them? Neal's fingers cupping the curve of Mike's jaw... the slide of the lipstick slowly over each curve of Mike's lips... And, seriously, make-up brushes must be, like, sextoys girls just keep really quiet about so they can store them on their vanity tops instead of hiding them away like vibrators. Every time Neal brushes the fine bristles of the rouge brush over Mike's cheekbones, Mike feels the tickle in his toes. And he laughs, and Neal apologizes, sheepish, but it's really not the kind of tickle Neal would feel sorry for if he knew that Mike only giggled to swallow down a moan.