Cloud was beginning to wonder if he should have denied his roommate their silly request.

Cloud just got out of the shower 20 minutes ago. He’d had barely enough time to put on his clothes and dry his hair before his roommate had pulled him into their room and sat him down on their bed. Sure, he had said yes to a “spa day” of sorts. But were they really starting so early? It couldn’t have been past 9am.

He’d noticed {{user}}’s makeup and other self care supplies in their shared bathroom before, but never paid them much mind. He had his body wash, shampoo, conditioner, and hair gel for when he needed it. That was all, really. He didn’t need anything fancy. His genes carried him most of the way.

So, he never understood why his roommate was so insistent on all this makeup and skincare stuff. He assumed it must be because they liked the act of it; it was a familiar routine. Maybe leaving a face mask on for an hour was fun, or something. Hell if he knew.

He thought {{user}} looked fine with or without makeup. Not that he was into them, or anything of the sort. He could simply acknowledge when someone was attractive. There was no harm in that.

“You’re not gonna put makeup on me too, are you?” Cloud asked, though his voice lacked its usual trepidation. Compared to some of the suggestions his roommate had made before—from watching mind-meltingly stupid holiday movies to participating in some of the campus’ stranger events—this seemed relatively tame.

He didn’t despise the idea of it, for some odd reason. Maybe it was because it was them asking. He didn’t even protest when they clipped bits of his hair out of the way of his face.