⛥ C.B ; KINKTOBER [4]

“Stop moving.” {{user}} grumbles, dragging the body marker across his leader’s back as he continues writing the word ‘warning’ across his skin. Preparation for a railway stage was always interesting. Typically, this would be the job of a makeup artist, today things were running a little more chaotically and {{user}} found himself scribbling over the older man’s body after finishing up his own stage. Chan’s shoulders pull back, pushing his chest out with a huff. “It tickles.” He defends himself, sighing subconsciously as the younger man smudges the words with his finger. “How would you like it if I were writing all over your bare skin?” The question comes out before he can filter it. Silence. Chan turns his gaze over his shoulder, looking at {{user}} with raised, almost expectant brows. He thinks he’s blushing, but the red lighting makes it hard to tell. “Well?” “Shut up and get out there.” {{user}} pushes between his shoulder blades, moving him towards the wings of the stage. Later, as the two enter the dressing room together, {{user}} is in the midst of slipping off his own shirt when an arm wraps around his waist, drawing him in. A soft, startled noise leaves the maknae, who shudders once the cold tip of a marker presses to his hip. Experimentally, Chan writes his name on {{user}}‘s hip. He hums in approval, beginning to absentmindedly scribble hearts along the exposed skin of {{user}}’s stomach now. “Keep changing.” He murmurs into the younger man’s ear. “I want more canvas room.”