17. Grotesque

"What the fuck, Kidd?" Killer snarls, the mask only amplifying the angry tone as he stand in the doorway, Kidd looking back at him through the bathroom mirror, before turning to his partner sheepishly.
Unfortunately for Kidd, Killer is pissed, grabbing the concealer from him in one hand and the small bag of make up in the other, and Kidd raises his own in surrender. He's not completely sure of his misstep but he can count the times Killer's gotten truly upset with him on one hand and even without seeing his face, Kidd knows this is about to make the list if he doesn't fix it quickly.
"I ran out of lipstick so I was just gonna borrow some from you -"
"That doesn't fucking look like lipstick, Kidd!"
"air son Muir..."
"This shit is expensive, Kidd! you can't just waste is on a whim playing... I don't know! What ever the hell this is!"
"Expensive? Killer - we're as rich as gods right now - I'll buy you more!"
Killer growls little, and Kidd aborts his half-hearted attempt to reassure Killer with a hand to the shoulder. He redirects, scratching the back of his neck like that had been the plan the whole time.
"Killer - I'll buy you more. I'm sorry. Okay." Kidd smart enough to know they're fighting about something else right now - but damn him if he knows what. "Tha mi duilich. I shouldn't have touched your make up without asking."
Killer is still hunkered a little defensively over his bag, tucked behind arms crossed low over his gut.
"It's... I.." Kidd frowns, usually he just says what he means, but right now he's not sure /how/ to iterate it. "You've never cared about me using your stuff before. Half the time, I'm not actually sure which clothes are mine and which are yours to begin with."
"Mine are the ones that still have sleeves and buttons." Killer muttered. He's annoyed, but the strange mood that had him has loosened its hold.
Kidd makes a gesture of 'well there you go' before resting his hands on the bathroom counter behind him. He gives Killer his best puppy eyes, face molded into the perfect, 'I'm baby' look and he bats his eyes innocently. Killer's mask should prevent him from making sure the look sticks, but he's had enough practice that he knows immediately when Killer locks eyes with him, and he deepens the pouts just a little more.
"You look stupid." Killer says finally, and Kidd smirks - "I was under the impression that was my default?"
The tension eases out of Killer with a sharp bark of laughter, the rare kind where he tosses his head back and cackles. The effect is lost a little with his helmet, but it's a laugh reserved just for Kidd and he takes the win for what it is.
"You can't..." Killer pauses, chuckling, "You can't wear it like foundation - it's just a concealer. You put it across your whole face like that and you just look flat and weird. It's just for spot treatment. Like a zit or under eye bags and shit."
Kidd tried to school his face, but he knew it didn't catch the sulk in time, because Killer cocked his head the way his did when zeroing in on a weakness on the battlefield.
"Also - my skin tone is the completely wrong colour for you." He said, setting the bag down and Kidd could just feel his gaze flickering over Kidd's face.
Demanding an answer.
"My freckles make me look like a fucking kid. People still don't take me serious."
"But I thought you were Kidd?"
Kidd glared, but Killer was long immune to the look. Killer tilted Kidd chin up, 'tutting' over the thick layer of cream. Well - it had done that job at least. Not a hint of freckle was visible across his forehead, nose or cheeks. But it had also covered the natural differences in Kidd's skin tone, flattening to one solid shade. "I dunno shit about contouring, but if we can figure that out, I bet you won't look so stupid."
Kidd just grinned, "I dunno. Kinda digging the look. It's certainly striking."
"It's something." The problem was Killer only vaguely knew that contouring was a thing, not how it worked. But what he did know...
"Hold on a sec." Killer dug through his bag, and Kidd lounged against the countertop, watching him rummage. Killer didn't have the largest supply, and everything was pretty well used. Kidd had made a mental note when he'd been looking through it earlier of what stuff was almost gone. Those were clearly Killer's favorite, and Kidd had stayed clear. But he also knew what to look for in the next port they docked at as well.
Killer brought out a a few items, lipsticks mostly, to set on the counter out of his way but the prize in hand was a little black marker with a delicate brush at the end. Killer fiddled with it for a moment, before gesturing for Kidd to lean closer. "Look Up" was all he said.
Kidd sat still, looking up at the ceiling as Killer carefully painted black lines around his lashes, pulling the brush across the delicate skin around his eyes.
After Killer finished his first eye, he stepped back, turning Kidd's face this way and that, before gesturing to the mirror. Kidd judged his reflection, the sharp lines around his eyes against the flat of his face a bold look, and he grinned.
"Yeah?" Killer asked.
"Yeah, I like it. Do the other one?"
"Sure," and Kidd turned back to Killer. This time, he stared back, catching the flash of blue though the mask; It was hard to miss this close. Killer paused, just a moment, before Kidd caught the twinkle, knowing Killer was smiling back. Then he was looking at the brush strokes, carefully painting on the beginnings of Kidd's own mask.