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It was mere minutes before the show started and they were waiting backstage. After hundreds of shows, Robert wasn’t really nervous anymore, but rather impatient. He scratched his cheek.
Lee was standing next to him and now he looked over with a wry grin.
"You’ve smudged your X," he said.
It took Robert a moment to make sense of these words. He just rubbed the spot where he had painted on that black X he did for every show.
"Oh fuck." He grabbed his small bag where he kept all of his essentials: cigarettes, a few spare picks, body glitter and the kajal he was looking for. And while he was scanning the room for the nearest mirror, Lee already took the pen from him and put a finger under his chin to keep his head still.
That unexpected takeover made Robert’s stomach flutter, but it was over before he had the chance to process it.
"There you go."
"Thanks," he mumbled, not trusting his voice right now. What the hell was that? Lee had always been touchy but it usually took a lot more for Robert’s body to react to it. But this tickled his brain in a new way.
He fought this feeling down, so he wouldn’t be heading on stage with glazed eyes.
But even after the show was over, something lingered with him. Like an intense dream one couldn’t shake off completely after waking up.
He needed a retake, just to make sure this wasn’t a fluke.
When the next show came up, he considered smudging the X again on purpose, but decided on a much more direct take. He just handed Lee the kajal pen.
"Can you help me again?" he asked innocently.
Lee’s grin was a bit too knowing, but there was no going back now.
"You liked that, huh?"
"Maybe?" No need to deny that. He was a bad liar anyway.
Lee grabbed Robert’s chin firmly, even though he had to know that Robert wouldn’t pull away. Not that Robert would ever protest getting manhandled by Lee. But he was more gentle with the pen. Two soft strokes on his right cheek and the X was done. And again, Robert was getting the tingles. It made his scalp crawl but in the best possible way. Getting a haircut or a tattoo sometimes caused this feeling. It probably had to do something with submitting his body into the hands of someone, trusting that he’d like the outcome. And this was right up the same alley.
It took Robert a moment to realize that Lee was watching him with amusement, while he was standing there in bliss.
"So you’re really into that." A statement, not a question, so Robert didn’t feel inclined to answer. "I could add a dick." Lee raised the pen to avoid any misunderstanding and that pulled Robert out of his trance. He laughed.
"No thanks, that’ll look weird in the photos."
"So all I’m hearing is that I need to avoid the visible areas." He pulled the collar of Rob’s black shirt to the side and scribbled something in the crook of the neck. Robert needed to close his eyes for a second. That shouldn’t feel so good. But his neck had always been a sensitive area and Lee boldly utilized that.
"Did you … did you just …" Fuck, he couldn’t even form a full sentence.
"Draw a dick on you? Yeah." Lee sounded so pleased with himself. "But don’t worry, no one will see it." He fixed the collar and patted Rob’s shoulder. "Leave that there."
Lee left him alone to get his own make-up done while Robert started questioning all his life choices.
Was it a big deal? No. The collar covered the thing and a few minutes of sweating and moving would smudge it to unrecognizability. And even if not - he got a slice of pizza tattooed on the back of his hand, so a tiny scribbled dick wouldn't surprise anyone.
What made it a big deal was the thought behind it. That Lee had that power over Robert. That he could make Robert keep it. That Robert obeyed. That he liked it.
The show became a challenge. It was normal for Lee to tease him during the performance and Robert had gotten quite good at playing the bass no matter what. But now every time Lee put his hand on Robert’s shoulder, the thumb brushing over their little secret, Rob had to fight for his focus. There even were some botched notes, but a bass was more forgiving with that than a guitar.
"Fuck you," Robert mouthed the third time that happened. Lee just laughed at that.
~~~~~
The following day was an off-day and Robert really needed that to collect himself. No show, no kajal, no teasing. Just a day to discover a new town with the crew. He almost didn't think about it at all.
When their next show came, Robert had decided that he wouldn’t ask Lee to help with the kajal ever again. He was sure. Almost certain. Probably.
But for some reason, he still hadn’t painted on the X yet when Lee came over and took the pen from him without asking.
"Come here."
He should protest. He should do this on his own like he did all these years. He should take the pen from Lee once he was done with the X. He should-
"Hold still."
Once more, Lee opened his shirt wider, even unbottened it some more to gain better access to the chest.
"What are you doing?" Any concern Robert meant to put into his voice disappeared somewhere between his brain and his lips and left just curiosity behind.
"Marking you."
He should really say something. Now. But it felt too good. Lee’s warm hand on his skin. The soft gliding of the kajal pen. To be the canvas. To be the center of Lee’s undivided attention, an intently frown on his face as he was writing something right below Robert’s chest tattoo.
Robert drifted into that trance-like state he knew from getting tattooed. A mix between feeling tipsy and a deep relaxation; heavy limbs, a pleasantly empty brain and a tingling sensation inside of his skull like it was filled with fizzy champagne.
But there was something else to it. Not quite humilitating, but rather humbling. Something submissive. Devoted.
When Lee was done - and Robert wished this would have taken longer, much longer - he looked down. Reading upside-down was not his strongest suit, but after some seconds, he made out Lee’s delightfully scrawly handwriting.
Property of Lee.
That … that shouldn't be so hot. He gave up trying to force his mouth to protest and just accepted that he didn't mind this, like, at all.
Lee proceeded to close just enough buttons to make his writing barely visible. But if Robert leaned forward and with just the right angle, someone might catch a glimpse.
The most sensible path of action would be to close at least one more button. Or to wipe it off completely. So of course, Robert did neither.
"You really want me to botch up my parts again, don't you?" he asked without thinking about what this was implying. His tongue still felt heavy.
Lee gave him the most charming smile.
"Then I guess we'll have to practice this until it no longer affects you."