/ Sorry for the lack of fics. I actually found a writing partner who's been helping me and stuff, so, I'm hoping that my Jeff will be less OOC. This idea's been brewing in my mind for awhile now, because when I was at (real) college, I had a friend who was extremely like Jeff personality-wise and he did this. (Also turned out to be a sociopath. Go figure, huh?) Anyway! On with the fic.
Britta didn't often stay over at Jeff's place. The brief flings they had tended to be at any place sexual frustration would manifest, and that didn't normally end up being in his apartment. But every so often, they'd get distracted as they went to leave, make a snap decision, and she would drive five minutes behind his car so that they could slip away without anyone taking notice. So that's what they'd done, and for once they'd fallen asleep together rather than her driving home at 2am. But when she stirred properly - she'd been disturbed briefly by his alarm, by Jeff slipping out of the bed, but then slipped off again - she was alone. Yawning, stretching, a need made itself clear. Somewhat blearily, Britta got to her feet and padded towards the bathroom, unbothered by being naked.
The bathroom light was on, the extractor fan audible whirring quietly, but it didn't click that someone was in there until she had already stepped inside. Jeff whirled around with a 'Hey!' of surprise and objection. Britta blinked a couple of times, getting as awake as she could, to take in what she was seeing. The safe under his sink was open, revealing a selection of products, most of which seemed to be foreign. But that item in his hand was most definitely -
"Are you putting on foundation!?" she gasped, eyes widening, and his own flickered down, to what he was holding.
"It's not foundation!" Jeff objected, immediately, but Britta was walking over, peering up into his face, looking for the little dab marks. "It's concealer." he admitted, "Extremely expensive concealer. And you are not to tell the group about this!" he warned, pointing at her.
Britta, meanwhile, had bent down, staring into his safe. "Britta! Get away from there." he bent down, to try and move her away, but her hand was already in there, fascinated. "That's four hundred dollar night cream-" he made to push her away, but she straightened up with something in her hand before he could slide her away with his hip. He'd finished rubbing the cream under his eyes, mostly hiding the dark shadows, putting the tube down. Attempting to snatch the pencil from her caused her to step back.
"You wear eyeliner?!" Britta was laughing now and Jeff glared, stepping threateningly towards her. She was annoyingly cocky for someone who was naked, he thought to himself, trying to snatch at the pencil again.
"A lot of guys wear eyeliner!" he snapped, "It brings out my eyes. Give it back, it was two hundred bucks." Britta finally gave it up, letting him take it back. He picked up the concealer, crouched, shoved them both back into the safe and slammed it shut, locking it with a firm click.
"What do you want?" he glared at her.
"I came in to use the toilet. Jeff! How long have you been wearing makeup?" he picked up the key, and walked out of the room, slamming the door. "Jeff!" she complained, but there was no response. Sighing, she made use of the facilities, now feeling a little chilly. Leaving the room, she almost walked into him as he emerged from the bedroom, now dressed, doing up his shirt. He didn't even look at her as she moved around, retrieving her pieces of clothing where they'd been dumped along the way to the bedroom. His hair was flat - he'd brushed it but not got to styling it, apparently doing that after the makeup.
"Are you done?" he snapped at her, and she frowned at him, shaking her head ever so slightly as she pulled on her jeans.
"Jeff, I can't believe I never realised before now. Of course you wear makeup! You're so narcissistic."
"It's not makeup, Britta, it's just a little concealer and enhancer, alright? When I have a face this handsome, I have to take care of it. Dark shadows aren't attractive!" he glared back at her. "Britta, don't laugh at me. And stop trying to - to analyse me! A lot of men wear a little bit of not makeup to improve their features. It's called guy liner." he shook his head at her, "Now if you don't mind, I have to do my hair." he walked away from her, ignoring her calling, and when he went into the bathroom, he shut and locked the door with a firm click.