Title: Makeup
Author: Kelandris the Mad
Fandom: View Askewniverse
Pairing: Jay/Silent Bob
Rating: Songfic. R for language, that's about it. Implications of 
gay sex, but for once, no actual smut. 
Status: New
Archive: Drop me a note and it's yours. And on that note...
Feedback: kel@crazysheep.net
Series/Sequels: One-shot. Though it's sort of a sequel to "Don't 
Dream It' by our very own goblinbrodie. I confess, I just needed 
something easy to grab and write up, and I had this songfic slated 
for *something*...
Disclaimers: All parts of my fannish being are enriched by the 
presence of Kevin Smith, Jason Mewes, Jason Lee, Ben Affleck, and all 
the merry characters at View Askew Productions (including their 
current master, Miramax,) save for that pesky financial part of my 
being, which receives no compensation whatsoever for these tawdry 
little tales.
Notes: Had to write something happy after... after... something I'm not 
going to talk about.
Summary: Jay gets dressed to impress.
Warnings: Makeup on boys. Homoerotic allusions. Language.

"Makeup"
by Kelandris

*your face when sleeping is sublime
and then you open your eyes*

Jay was standing in the bathroom when Bob came in. The door was 
slightly open but Bob hadn't looked over yet. He put the groceries 
in the kitchen, shuffled the freezer stuff into the freezer, the rest 
of everything into the fridge or the cupboards. He grabbed two beers 
from the six-pack, twisting off the caps and bringing the bottles 
into the bathroom. He stopped dead.

"What?" Jay said. "Like you've never seen this before."

**Didn't think I'd be seeing it again,** he thought, struggling not 
to smile. He remembered the last time he had, and how that night had 
ended. Then the smile died a bit, because that hadn't happened 
since. And Jay had gone to the next few Rocky nights alone. Hmm.

Quietly, he handed him a beer, leaning against the door frame.

*then comes pancake factor number one
eyeliner, rose hips and lip gloss, such fun
you're a slick little girl, you're a slick little girl*

Jay had outdone himself this time. He wore not black but *purple* 
fishnets, where the hell had he found purple fishnets? The garter 
belt was also purple, trimmed in black lace. It framed a... oh, you 
bastard, thought Bob... gleaming pair of gold thong underwear.

Bob blinked.

**Remember, breathe every so often or you'll fall over.** Right.

*rouge and coloring, incense and ice
perfume and kisses, oh, it's all so nice
you're a slick little girl, you're a slick little girl*

His eyes kept falling to the bulge in the gold lame', but he inhaled, 
valiantly moving his eyes upward. This was not the comfort it should 
have been. Jay had found a corset, sized to his long torso, that fit 
him like it had been custom-made. Purple satin gleamed under the 
bathroom lights, the edges trimmed in the same black lace, and it was 
strapless. Jay had applied some sort of glitter to his shoulders and 
chest; they looked like they were lightly powdered with gold dust.

"Like what you see?" Jay said, applying smoky grey eyeshadow to his 
eyes. He pursed his lips, lifting the lipstick and rolling it up.

*now we're coming out of our closets
out on the streets, yeah, we're coming out*

Bob closed his eyes, breathing hard. Why had he wondered? Purple. 
Dark, glossy, gleaming purple.

*when you're in bed it's wonderful
it'd be so nice to fall in love
when you get dressed I really get my fill
people say that it's impossible*

Jay stepped back from the mirror, looking critically at his face. 
This time, the makeup had been applied by a much surer hand. What, 
he'd gone to someone for advice? Man, Bob could just imagine *that* 
conversation... Then, thinking on how Jay's conversations usually went 
with girls, he carefully turned his mind away from the thought.

*gowns lovely made out of lace
and all the things that you do to your face
you're a slick little girl, you're a slick little girl*

Jay twirled an eyelining pen in one hand, watching Bob through the 
mirror.

"Oh, you're just all kindsa bothered over this, huh?" he whispered.

Bob turned his attention from what Jay was doing around his eyes to 
what Jay had just said.

"What?" he blurted. "I mean, um...What?"

*eyeliner, whitener then color the eyes
yellow and green, oh, what a surprise
you're a slick little girl, oh, you're such a slick little girl*

Jay turned from the mirror finally, posing, looking at him from those 
smoke-shadowed eyes. Slowly, watching Bob's face, he pulled up 
purple satin gloves trimmed in black marabou feathers around the 
tops. He crossed his arms slowly, and jutted one hip out at a 
precise angle. Bob swallowed. Was it hot in here? He looked down 
at the beer in his hand and took a careful sip.

"It's not that easy," Jay said, grinning. He stepped forward, hips 
rolling luxuriously. Bob almost fell down. Then Jay was standing 
next to him, nearly pressed against him, and still smiling.

"Kiss me."

"Urr?"

Great, now he couldn't even form words. And people wondered why he 
didn't talk.

"Kiss me, you dumb bitch. Or do I have to make the invitation even 
more obvious for your sorry ass?"

Blinking, he leaned forward, brushing his lips against the blond's. 
The lipstick was flavored. Grape, he should have seen it coming. 
But Jay just shook his head.

"Chicken. *Kiss* me, dumbshit. Don't just *peck* me to death."

And he grabbed Bob's head, pulling him close, and kissing him 
passionately. Bob moaned, sliding back against the wall, and his 
knees were giving out, and Jay was laughing at him, and still 
*kissing* him, dear God, where did he find the *oxygen*, and he was 
on the floor now, and Jay was stretching him out, half on tile, half 
on carpet, grinding that gold lame' strap against his sweats and 
still *kissing* him...His vision blurred, indistinct, but he never 
let go. Never let go.

*now we're coming out, out of our closets
out on the streets, yes, we're coming out
yeah, we're coming out*

Some immeasurable time later, he blinked, realizing they'd moved to 
the bed at some point. He remembered sweaty limbs tangling and the 
incredible things Jay had done with his mouth and laughed quietly. 
Then he remembered. 

The outfit. The makeup. Rocky.

"Hey."

Jay rolled over, looking at him. "Yeah?"

"We didn't make the show."

Jay smiled, an expression of pure mischief on his face. He propped 
his head up on one hand.

"What show?"

**Oh, you bastard,** thought Bob.

END
(Song is Lou Reed's "Make Up")
*****
Kelandris the Mad
one for the tinkerman and one for the sea, and one for the little 
girl far from me