"You're too fucking tall, dude," Gerard said, beaming at Spencer and gesturing him to take a seat in a nearby chair, then parking his own ass on the edge of the dresser, bag of tricks settled comfortably next to him. "We're gonna pretty you the fuck up -- not that you need it, Spencer Smith, but it's fun every now and then, yeah? Shake things up, get a little razzle dazzle going?"
Spencer had a really nice smile, and Gerard was pretty relieved he was okay with the 'let the crazy Auror paint my face as he cackles gleefully' thing.
"Okay, close, your eyes," Gerard murmured, stroking thick careful lines of black across the delicate skin of Spencer's eyelids, down over his cheekbone. Mmm, yeah, and now the black glitter, and a little red in the corners. This was going to be so hot. "Now look up," and Spencer opened his eyes obediently and Gerard carefully applied the mascara. Spencer's eyes looked ridiculously blue against the black makeup -- Gerard was a fucking genius. Spencer was gonna knock them dead.
"We totally need to get you a whip," Gerard said delightedly, stealing Spencer's glass and taking a last swallow of apple and bubbles before he refilled it, handing it back to Spencer. "I mean, if you're a ringleader, you need a whip, or a crop. Oooh, a riding crop, I think I have one somewhere. Lemme just get your lipstick ready and I'll go look for it."
Candy apple red, with a bit of purple around the edges to give Spencer's mouth a bruised, used look. Bit of gloss to make his lips look freshly kissed. Gerard was an artist.