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None of them know how it ended up on the bus, one day it just appeared in the kitchen one morning. This random bottle of tacky red lip gloss, the kind of crap you would get at the dollar store to pacify a little girl. Everyone immediately pins it on Pete, the reminisce of a one night stand left over in a drunken stumble. Pete holds his hands up in defense, saying "Come on, I'm pretty sure the girls I associate with have more class than this." This is followed by a few loud laughs that are responded to with a loud "fuck you too!" from Pete and the whole thing goes back to being forgotten almost immediately. That doesn't mean they throw the damned thing out, actually it kinda floats around the bus for a few days, being used as something to drum on the table, as a projectile to throw at people's heads during arguments, and generally being fiddled with while having a conversions. It takes a full two weeks for Pete to get what he considers a genius idea, which is pretty amazing in of itself. Him and Patrick are sitting at the table, and Patrick is talking to Joe, who is rifling through the cabinets for the perfect snack. Pete doesn't know what they are talking about exactly really, because he is far too busy staring at the cheap lip gloss he was twirling in his hands. His fingernails picking at the safety seal still snugly wrapped around the lid and then he is staring at Patrick's mouth, lips forming words as he excitedly tries to prove his point to Joe, whatever it might be. Then he is jumping up, practically climbing up onto the table to lean into Patrick's personal bubble."Pete, what the fuck?" Patrick asks, because well what the fuck? Pete's ripping off the plastic seal and pulling out the lip gloss wand and Patrick knows he should be already lashing out, punching Pete straight in the chest. But he actually let's Pete get the words out before he reacts."Let me put this on you." And it seems like Pete should be actually asking permission, given it is Patrick's face, but its Pete and Patrick knows is a demand. That doesn't stop him from fighting."Fuck off, you're not putting that shit on me." Patrick huffs, slapping the older man's hands away from him. Joe has now abandoned his search to watch the show. It was always extremely entertaining when Pete decided to be extra annoying to Patrick and Joe was convinced Patrick was actually going to kill him one of these days and he would totally take a break from snacks for a chance to witness that. "I just want to see how it looks, Trick, don't you want to look pretty?" Pete is laughing. Patrick is not. Actually he looks murderous and it just makes Pete egg him on further. Pete grabs Patrick by the jaw. "If you don't let me do it now, I'll put it on you in your sleep." Joe hasn't seen Patrick have so many emotions on his face since he first met Pete and was promptly made fun of for the way he was dressed. Pete just had the same shit eating grin that he gets when he knows he has won. "Fine, you asshole! But I'm wiping it off the second you are done. You better pray it doesn't stain my lips cause if I have to go on stage with red lips, I'm gonna punch-""Shhh." Pete tightened his grip on Patrick's jaw, just enough to make the singer go quiet. Pete took advantage of the shocked expression to swipe a line of sticky red gloss across Patrick's bottom lip, holding firmly as he tries to flinch away from the wand. "Stay still or I'll fuck up the top lip." Patrick wants to tell him to go fuck himself and move around enough that he can't get a smooth line, but he doesn't. He stays completely still, let's Pete tilt his head a little back as he traces his upper lip, didn't move when Pete dips it back into the color to cover it with more gloss before grabbing his jaw once more to finish filing the color in.He watches the way Pete's face changes as he finishes up, his eyes growing dark as he takes in the finished look. Patrick purses his lips together, like he had seen so many girls do before, feeling the way they stick together and Pete swallows hard, fingers almost shaking against his jaw a Patrick unsticks them with a soft pop. Its so intimate, Pete licks his lips and runs a finger under Patrick's bottom lip, cleaning up the color so it runs perfect with his lip line. And Patrick, his face is so red he is sure that Pete can feel it radiating off his skin. "Pete-" he starts but then Joe is coughing uncomfortably and Pete is jerking his hand back like he had been burned. "See Trick, a work of art," Pete says with a grin and the dark look from before is instantly gone, all tracts of it gone in thin air. "Whatever. Throw that shit away." Patrick says with a frown and slides out of the booth, heading to the bathroom in search of something to scrub the sticky goop. Wading up a piece of toilet paper, he closes the bathroom door, a little harder than necessary, and looks at himself in the mirror. He leans closer to look at the color in the dim room, his face feeling hot again as he thinks about how Pete looked at him. Was he imagining the whole thing? It had to be all in his head, he was sure. He let out a sigh and scrubbed at sticky mess until his lips were free of any trace of red. Chucking the wad of toilet paper into the trash, Patrick took another breath and went back into the kitchen. Joe was gone, probably stuffing his face in the back with whatever he found to munch on, leaving Pete sitting alone, staring at the lipgloss in his hand. He looks up as Patrick sits back down. "Are you sure you want me to throw it away?" Pete asks with a tone of knowing that pissed Patrick off. "Its a good shade on you. Wouldn't mind seeing you in it again." He continues, a little lower, and Patrick knows his ears are burning with how red he is again."Yes." He bites out in response, but Pete doesn't seem phased by his aggression. He simply stands and slips the tube into the trash as he passes by. And Patrick wants to tell himself that is the end of it. The stupid thing was gone. But Patrick isn't that stupid. Or he is that stupid because he is still letting himself think about it a week later, as he stands at the end of the cosmetics aisle of the Rite Aid they stopped at in the middle of the night. For something Pete wanted and they had just enough extra time on their way to the next show to let him wander for a few minutes. Andy was still knocked out on the bus, and Joe ducked off to smoke a cigarette while he had the chance so it left Pete to raid the snack aisle across the store, while Patrick was here, standing in front of a display of lipstick, the way Pete held his jaw replaying in his head as his eyes focused on the plethora of choices before him. He avoids looking at the lip gloss. It's still too sticky and gross for his liking. And Patrick swears that he is usually law abiding citizen, that his mother raised him to never steal, ever, but the thought of Pete catching him actually purchasing the deep red lipstick that he carefully shoved into his pocket, as he set off towards the snack aisle, crosses through his mind and he can feel his stomach drop in horror. It is a pretty similar sensation to what he feels when he thinks about the idea of showing Pete at all.So he isn't fully sure he even wants to as they shuffle onto the bus, Pete giving him a playful shove as he passes him, hands full of bags. But he is completely aware of how heavy the tube feels inside his pocket when Pete turns back to give him a sleepy grin. Still Patrick keeps it hidden for another week, so long that he is sure Pete doesn't even remember the whole thing. He could just throw the lipstick, that he stole holy shit what is wrong with him, away and never think of it again. But when he does think of it, he can't stop the warmth from unfurling in his stomach, that feeling of nervousness and lust hitting him hard in the gut and he can't get himself to throw it away, to chuck the damned thing in the trash. It's what drives him to follow Pete into the single person bathroom at the surprisingly tiny venue they had played a little less than an hour before. Pete was doing that thing where he simply runs his head under the faucet in favor of taking a shower for another day or two. It should be gross but Patrick doesn't care as the click of the lock causes Pete to pop up and looks over, water running down his face. "Holy shit dude, I thought you were some crazed fan for a split second." Pete chuckles as he grabs the towel on the counter to wipe his face and dry his hair a bit. Patrick can smell the cologne Pete splashed on his clean change of clothing to mask any sweat from the show. Patrick leans against the counter, watching Pete watch his reflection in the mirror. "What's up?" Pete asks Patrick's reflection. "Not that I don't love these causal visits in the bathroom, but," His eyes follow Patrick's mirrored hand as he digs out a small black tube and sets it down between them. Pete turns his attention to the actual tube and turns a questioning look onto the younger man "What-""You like it don't you, seeing me in red lipstick?" Patrick asks with a pretty steady voice. He had thought he would be a wreck as he walked up to the door. That his mouth would have never been able to form the words. Pete loses his questioning look, changing to a dark knowing one. Patrick swallows hard and wills himself to keep looking Pete in the eyes. "I like it when you put it on me. I like the way you look," Patrick falters just a bit as Pete takes a step closer, picking up the black tube from the slightly damp surface. "The way you look at me like you want to..." "To what, Patrick?" Pete asks, pulling the lid off and twisting the base to reveal the cherry colored makeup. Pete reaches for Patrick, letting his hand rest on his throat loosely, feeling how it vibrates under his hand as he talks. "To devour me." Patrick blurts and is the only thing he can think because that's how Pete looks right now, like he is the big bad wolf, wide smirk of too many teeth, but Patrick isn't afraid. He is so far from afraid as Pete laughs and gives a gentle squeeze as if to test how far Patrick will let him go. Patrick doesn't flinch, instead he tips his head back to expose more of the soft skin. Pete lets his fingers run lightly along the side of his neck, feeling the way his veins thumped under the skin before moving his hand up to grab his jaw firmly."Stay still." He orders but he knows Patrick won't move, as he immediately submits and let's his mouth drop open, his lips parted and ready for Pete to apply the lipstick. The brand Patrick picked is nice and it barely takes any effort for Pete to glide it over Patrick's bottom lip. In a few swipes the lipstick is applied and it almost seems darker against Patrick's pale skin. "Fuck Patrick. You look amazing." And there's the look from before. Like Pete can hardly restrain himself pinning Patrick against the nearest surface and fuck him til he can't walk straight. And as much as Patrick wants that, cause it's all he could imagine the last couple weeks when he was alone in his bunk with his hand down his boxers, they didn't have the time for that. Not when they barely had the time for whatever the fuck this was. So when Pete let go of Patrick's jaw with a shaky breath, probably to tell him that they had to stop, reaching for the towel as he prepares the speech in his head why they had to go, Patrick is slipping down to his knees, looking up at Pete's shocked face. His hands coming up to push his shirt up, to pull his belt open and pop the button open with his thumb, and Pete looks like he is about to say something, but it is lost as Patrick presses a stained kiss to the middle of his bartskull tattoo. Pete can only brace himself in the counter as Patrick pulls the zipper down. Patrick looks back with a smirk. "No underwear? Why am I not surprised?" And Pete wants to respond with something snarky, a witty joke but he forgets how to even make his mouth form words because Patrick is taking him into his mouth, sucking gently as his hand wraps around the base. He can already see the way the lipstick is staining his skin, marking the sides of Patrick's fingers as he bumps them against his lips as he starts to work his hand in rhythm with the way Patrick begins to bob his head. "Oh fuck." Pete gasps out, his hands skidding across the counter top. Patrick looks up, his dark greens locking with Pete's honey browns, and he pulls back with a pop, taking in a quick breath for a moment and Pete can feel his stomach doing flips at how the red is already smeared down his chin. "Fuck Patrick, looks so good on you." Pete mumbles out, causing Patrick to bite back a smile before leaning back to lap at the head, eliciting another curse under Pete's breath. Pete usually is pretty good at lasting longer than this, but it might be because it's been a while, or maybe even the danger of someone coming at any moment to demand they have to leave like right now. But he really thinks its the way Patrick is looking up at him, lipstick smudged to his cheek, looking like he wants nothing more than to get Pete off while his spare hand palms at himself through his jeans. It's all just too much and the tightening in his lower stomach hits him so hard, he barely has time to let out a quick, warning "Trick I'm gonna-" and Patrick's just nodding, humming 'mmmhmmm'. And that's all Pete needs because he is coming, a low groan ripping from his throat as his fingers curl around the counter, Patrick swallowing with no hesitation until Pete's too sensitive and pushing his hand off of him, Patrick leans back and wipes the corners of his mouth with his thumb, only making the red further smeared. "Holy shit, Patrick. Come here." Pete pants out, grabbing him by the collar of his t-shirt, tugging until the younger man is standing again and Pete can grab him by the face and kiss him. Patrick tries to pull back, tries to object because of the lipstick on his face or the fact that Patrick probably still has Pete's cum on his tongue, anything else that should probably be gross. But Pete's holding onto the back of his head so Patrick leans into it, letting Pete kiss him hard, moaning loudly as his hand pops the buttons of his jeans and slinking down into his boxers. Pete pulls back, as his hand wraps around Patrick's cock, and Patrick wants to giggle at the way most of the lipstick is now all over Pete's face but he can only choke out a groan as he starts to stroke him quickly. They can hear some chatter outside the door now, a voice asking no seriously has anyone seen Pete and Patrick where the fuck are those idiots. Pete lays his forehead on Patrick's shoulder, turning his head to press a kiss against the skin of his neck, as he began to whisper, "Shhh don't let them hear you. Fuck Patrick, you just love to drive me crazy with that mouth of yours. God you looked amazing sucking my cock. Did you like sucking me off? Did you think about it when you bought this lipstick?"Patrick can't think straight enough to answer Pete's questions, so he swallows hard and braces himself by grabbing into Pete's shoulders, bucking up into Pete's hand and letting out a whimper in response. He is almost overwhelmed as Pete jerks him quickly, his lips moving against sensitive skin as he continues to whisper. "I want to fuck until you can't take it anymore, want to hear all the pretty noises you make when you come." And that is the tipping point, he is biting back a groan as he comes into Pete's fist and both of their shirts. They stand there for a minute panting before they can move again, Pete reaching back to grab the towel behind him. He wipes at the red smeared across his face and the white splattered on his shirt and hand before moving to do the same for Patrick and the younger man looks like he wants to complain, but Pete puts on a stern look, though it's not very convincing, and cleans his face and neck. "What about your tattoo?" Patrick asks as Pete wipes down the front of his shirt. Pete tosses the towel to the side and lifts up his own shirt to expose red imprint of lips barely even smudged. Pete grins back up at him before tucking himself back in jeans. "Fuck no, I think I might get this tattooed on as soon as possible." He jokes as he watches Patrick readjust his own waistline before zipping back up. Patrick looks at him mildly horrified."That is not happening. You are not getting a tattoo to commemorate this moment. You'll be showing everyone, like 'hey guys this is for when Patrick blew me!'" Pete let out a braying laugh at Patrick's impersonation and moves to collect this stuff. Patrick rocks on his heels for a second, feeling nervous again. "So... we are cool right?" He asks Pete's back unable to get himself to look at him in the mirror."Yeah totally, dude. But. Was that a one time thing?" Pete finishes shoving the last of his things into his toiletries bag. Patrick twists the hem of the shirt up in his hand but grins at his reflection."Does the lipstick have to be a main part of it? Cause it's fun once in a while but I cannot handle that crap on my face all the time." Pete laughs and turns around, throwing an arm around his shoulders."We can save it extra special occasions." Patrick rolls his eyes but reaches over and grabs the tube off of the counter, shoving it back into his pocket. As they walk back to the bus, somehow sneaking past the pissed off techs still searching for them, Patrick thinks he could handle the lipstick if it meant Pete would look at him like before again. Pete just thinks he might actually look into getting the lipstick stains permanently inked into his skin.