#okay look i didn't say furby but that was definitely a furby costume

[valhallanrose]

Cherry Bomb

In which a makeover leads to something more. Otherwise known as I wanted to write something gay as shit and my friends indulge me. 

Zelda/Amparo. The lovely Amparo belongs to @sunrisenfool. 

Title: Cherry Bomb by The Runaways

1.5k words. No CWs apply. 

When Zelda had invited Amparo over to her place to spend the afternoon together, she hadn’t necessarily had a plan, but she wasn’t expecting things to turn into a makeover. Not that she was complaining, she was having an absolute blast, but Amparo’s brand of makeover was certainly unique. It came with a trunk full of clothes and shoes to match, and Amparo was already digging in Zelda’s closet to see what else could be added to the pile for their escapade. 

“What in the world is this?” Zelda laughed, lifting what appeared to be a massive fur coat with a pair of protruding eyes and even a beak on the front out of the pile - marveling at the pastel pink and blue intermixed on the garment before letting it drop out of her hands. 

“An ideal costume for a show I’m yet to be in.” Amparo’s head popped out, body still otherwise hidden behind Zelda’s closet door. “Your wardrobe is cute, but it’s not what I was looking for. No matter, I brought plenty. Where’s your makeup?”

Zelda snickered, stepping over to the vanity and pulling out every bit of makeup she could find - some of it still unopened for how rarely she broke from routine - and when she looked in the mirror, Amparo’s glee was contagious as she surveyed the haul that had emerged from Zelda’s drawers. Zelda let her have at it, watching with amusement as she sifted through and pulled whatever products she wanted for the looks she had planned. 

This was all Amparo’s game - Zelda had said she could have fun with it, and she certainly wasn’t going to get in her way. 

So when Amparo told her to pull her hair back and sit down in the vanity chair, Zelda obliged, though she’d been lying if she said her heart didn’t do an interesting little jump into her throat when Amparo knocked Zelda’s knees apart to stand between her thighs. 

“Look at all these freckles.” Amparo murmured, a light smile on her face as she lifted Zelda’s chin up with the tips of her fingers. “Like fawn spots.”

And Zelda, in a moment of brilliancy: “Fawn spots are white, I think.”

Thankfully, Amparo laughed, Zelda’s chin held in one of her hands while the other sifted through products to see where she wanted to begin. “That’d be a sight, wouldn’t it? White freckles. Yours are lovely, though, please tell me you don’t cover them up.”

Zelda shook her head slightly, feeling her cheeks warm when Amparo tutted softly and gently squeezed her chin to keep her still even though she wasn’t looking directly at her. 

“No, I don’t cover them up. Too much work, honestly, and it looks strange since I’ve got them everywhere else.” She cracked a smile, one Amparo matched as she smoothed a few pieces of hair out of her face and raised a brush to her face. 

Obediently, Zelda closed her eyes, relaxing as the fluffy brush dusted ever so lightly over her eyelids with a color she hadn’t thought to look at before Amparo put it on her. She thought for a moment she’d look when Amparo was done, but as if she’d read her mind, Amparo paused and pulled the brush away enough for Zelda to open her eyes. 

“You look in the mirror and I’ll fight you.” Amparo tapped the end of the brush on Zelda’s nose, grinning when she went cross eyed to try and look at the powder left behind. 

“Can I ask what look you’re going for, at least?”

Amparo shrugged, leaning in again and gesturing for Zelda to close her eyes again. “You can ask, but that doesn’t mean I’ll tell you.”

With a playful grumble, Zelda closed her eyes, listening to the sound of containers moving around on the vanity and the brief pause where Amparo dipped into what she assumed was another color before the brush came back to her eyes again. 

Getting to know Amparo since that first letter to her shop had been a bit of a whirlwind. Zelda had attempted multiple shows of hers by then, making a point to bring flowers or small gifts when she popped backstage to congratulate Amparo on her performance. The action always seemed to earn her a kiss on the cheek, marked with whatever lovely shade of lipstick Amparo had worn for the night, but Zelda always had to fight temptation to turn her head and steal a kiss for herself whenever Amparo leaned in. And every time they spent time together, there seemed to always be something hanging in the air between them, making Zelda consider the idea of making a move herself before the moment seemed lost and the cycle would repeat the next time the opportunity came. 

But now...Zelda could feel Amparo’s hand on her chin, the warmth of her breath on her face, smell her perfume. And Zelda had a keen nose. She could pick out vanilla, sandalwood, hints of rose, perhaps even a little patchouli when Amparo reached over Zelda’s shoulder to dip into something else. 

A broader brush swept across her cheekbones a few times, and Zelda couldn’t stifle a giggle, which made Amparo chuckle above her as Zelda cracked her eyes open. 

Mistake. Absolute mistake. Amparo was less than eight inches from her face, dark eyes boring into Zelda’s face as she turned her head from side to side to examine her work. Zelda felt her face heat, and Amparo tutted, pouting a little as she examined Zelda’s cheeks. 

“I feel like there’s something else we could add here…I didn’t think that blush would look so red on you when I put it on.”

“I could make suggestions if I could look -”

Amparo hushed her, giving Zelda a look that just screamed ‘no’ before laughing and reaching over her shoulder again. “Let me try and blend it out, and then we’ll do your lips. Close them.”

With a dramatic sigh, Zelda closed her eyes again, giggling a little more as Amparo passed that fluffy brush over her cheeks a few more times and chucked it somewhere into the mess that was her vanity before she heard a tube pop open. 

Zelda paused when the doe foot applicator passed over her lips, the cherry scent rising up from the bottle and filling her nose with the sweet scent even after Amparo put it away. 

“I know this one. It’s got a little bit of a tint, doesn’t it?”

“A little bit of red. How could you tell?”

Zelda opened her eyes, popping her lips together a few times before she answered with some amusement. “It’s cherry flavored. Tam bought me a set for my birthday. There’s a whole bunch of fruity ones somewhere, though my favorite is the blueberry. Makes me look a little frostbitten though.”

Amparo rolled the tube in her fingers, reading the etched glass container and mouthing the name of the brand as she did. She popped the tube open again, sniffed it...and suddenly, Zelda realized that this was another one of those moments.

Her throat tightened, and with a somewhat husky tone in her voice, Zelda looked up at Amparo and gently plucked the tube from her hand/ 

“Do you want to try it?”

Amparo’s brow furrowed for a moment as Zelda set the tube aside, then reached out and set her hands loosely on Amparo’s waist to bring her a step closer. The tension between them was thick enough to cut with a knife as Amparo’s eyes darted down to Zelda’s rosy-glossed lips and the offer seemed to click for both of them.

They fell together in mere moments, Amparo’s hands cupping Zelda’s jaw and tilting her head up to meet her in a chaste kiss as Zelda squeezed her waist lightly with both hands. They broke apart once, meeting each other’s gazes through half-lidded eyes…

And then Amparo’s hand wove into Zelda’s hair and pulled her into another kiss, the careful wall they’d been working around collapsing between them as Zelda clutched her close and gave as much of the eager attention she got from Amparo back in that kiss as she could. 

She could have died right then and there, living and breathing Amparo Cassano and her stupid sexy vanilla perfume, but Zelda was suddenly very glad she was not in fact dead when Amparo pulled back and swept her thumb beneath Zelda’s lip to wipe away some of the smeared gloss. 

“How many of those lip glosses do you have?”

Zelda’s brow furrowed, and she glanced to the vanity, counting them and looking back up to Amparo with flushed cheeks. “Eight, counting the cherry. Why?”

The look Amparo gave her made her flush further as Amparo swept a small cloth across her lips, then reached for the next bottle of gloss that was closest to them without looking at the flavor on the bottle. 

“Because I’m now determined to find out what my favorite of these is. Suppose you’d be interested in helping?”

And Zelda, who knew that bottle was her favored blueberry just by the color of the cap, couldn’t find herself doing anything but think of how wonderful of an idea that was.