It's almost six thirty before Christian reaches his own dressing room. He's whiled away an hour between performances, drinking coffee and talking to a couple other members of the cast. Now it's time to go back to work.
This is one of Christian's favourite parts of the whole experience. The hour before he steps out under the lights, as he transforms himself into his latest character. Of course, there is a very good reason why Christian loves it so much, but he's not here yet.
Christian changes into his figure-hugging scarlet costume for the start of the show. It's an energetic role and Christian goes to the gym every day to keep fit. He wouldn't admit it to anyone else, but he's in amazing shape and the costume really accentuates his long legs and narrow waist. There's another reason he likes it so much. With the high-heeled shoes, he's a little taller than his boyfriend. Yeah, he likes that reason plenty.
Wearing a blue bathrobe over his costume, he sits in his dressing room, patiently applying the make-up needed under the strong lights of the theatre. Christian's become an expert at applying the layers of foundation and powder, covering his pale skin and freckles until he can see the mask of his character over his face. It's the part of the long process that will end with Zaza stepping out on stage, Christian Ellis left far behind at the dressing room door.
Fumbling around on the table, he finds the lip liner, carefully outlining his full lips, and then starts to brush the crimson lipstick over his bottom lip. He doesn't notice he's not alone until there's a hand at his back and another one turning his face to plant a kiss on his painted mouth. Christian hums contentedly into the kiss, provoking an answering murmur.
"You taste horrible," his boyfriend says against Christian's mouth, but it doesn't stop him going back for another kiss, his tongue licking at the painted lips to sweep into Christian's welcoming mouth.
Christian chuckles and pulls Tyler in for another kiss. "So do you, now," he points out smugly and moves so that Tyler is trapped between his legs, wriggling slightly to press his hardening cock against one of Tyler's thighs. Tyler obliges by pushing against him, letting Christian relieve some of the pressure.
Large hands sneak under Christian's bathrobe to grasp his thighs. Christian can feel the warmth of Tyler's hands bleeding through the fishnet tights to his shaved legs. Tyler really likes Christian's smooth, shaved legs. Christian found it difficult to walk for a week after the first time Tyler saw Christian in stockings and high heels. He's been fucked against every surface in their apartment since then in those heels. Christian just loves the fact Tyler can manhandle him.
Tyler's hands slide around Christian's ass and pull him up against the large chest. Christian sinks against his boyfriend, wanting to burrow his face in Tyler's neck but he's just done his face and he doesn't want to smear it against Tyler before the performance. Afterwards is another matter.
"You're so fucking hot," Tyler growls roughly against his ear. "Do we have time for me to show you just how hot?"
Christian pulls back, smiling at the red lipstick stained across Tyler's lips and chin. So much for not smearing his make-up.
"I have a show to do," he chides gently. "I have to be able to do things on stage -- like dance, or even walk. I think they're going to notice if I can't walk straight."
He runs a thumb across the crimson stain but only succeeds in spreading it farther. Tyler bites down on his thumb and then sucks it in. Christian holds his breath as he looks at Tyler's stained mouth around his digit, sucking in a parody of fucking. Christian moans loudly and his hips buck into Tyler's; he feels rather than hears the answering moan around his thumb. His other hand tugs on Tyler's brown hair pulling him off with an obscene pop. His boyfriend's mouth is still smeared in red -- his not-so-secret obsession with Christian's mouth clearly displayed for the world to see.
"Suck my cock! We have time for that," Christian demands imperiously, pushing Tyler back so he can get his robe open. Tyler smirks at Christian's impatience but allows himself to be moved so that Christian can tear open his bath robe, revealing the scarlet showgirl's dress, trimmed with matching feathers.
Tyler raises one eyebrow as he's faced with Christian's drag costume. "Can I get near your cock? That dress is worse than a fucking chastity belt. Where do I start?" He always complains, but Christian knows just how much Tyler loves watching him strip out of his dress.
Christian stands up and shimmies out of the costume, leaving him standing in high heels and fishnet tights. He looks down at Tyler who is still kneeing at his feet and it's his turn to smirk. Oh yeah, it never fails. Tyler's leaning back now, staring up at Christian's half naked body with something like awe, his huge muscled thighs parted wide and a definite tent in the front of his pants. Christian lifts one high heel-clad foot and presses gently on the bulge, biting his bottom lip as Tyler sucks in his breath.
"Oh my goodness, someone needs a bit of relief," he singsongs and presses harder, watching as Tyler's expression turns darker.
"Christian," his boyfriend warns, his tone low and so, so dangerous.
"Yes?" Christian asks, falsely innocent -- or not. He resists the temptation to bat his eyelashes. Christian finds himself pinned against the table, the edge digging into his ass as Tyler presses his face into Christian's groin. The make-up scatters behind them, a tube of foundation rolling off the table to land under the chair, but neither of them pay any attention.
Tyler raises his head and Christian's mouth goes dry. Fuck! Tyler's got that look in his eye which can only spell trouble for Christian. The last time Tyler'd worn that expression... Christian shivered. He'd felt it for a week. The raw ache in his ass every time he moved and the instant hard-on every single time he’d thought about Tyler’s aggression.
"Tyler..." Now it's his turn to issue a warning. He cannot go on stage freshly fucked by Tyler, no matter how much they're both desperate for it.
"I'm gonna blow you now," Tyler announces as if Christian hasn't spoken. He runs his hands up from the shoes with their killer heels to Christian's ass. "And then you're gonna reapply that lipstick and blow me so I can see those slutty, red lips around my cock."
Christian arches one delicately plucked eyebrow. "You sure you're gonna last that long?"
"Watch me," Tyler mutters and he yanks down the tights and the tight briefs. Christian's cock springs free and almost slaps Tyler in the face. Christian would laugh, but Tyler doesn't give him time as he sinks over Christian's cock and swallows it whole. Maybe he should think of a mocking remark, but he is getting a blowjob. The blood isn't rushing upstairs at this point.
"Damn, you're so fucking good at this." Christian states the obvious as he leans back against the table, resisting the urge to buck up into Tyler's mouth only by sheer force of will.
Tyler pulls off and gives him a quizzical look. "You're still talking in whole sentences? I must be doing something wrong." He takes Christian's dick in his hand and slips his mouth over the head, his tongue probing the slit, making Christian groan even louder. Tyler stops again and grins, ignoring Christian's glare. "That's more like it. You're sounding like a man getting blown now."
"Stop again and I'll..." Christian doesn't complete his empty threat because Tyler tries a new and very dirty trick, shouldering in to spread Christian's thighs and sucking at his balls. The bastard knows just how much Christian loves him doing that and even with the tights around his legs Tyler's really going for it. Christian is left gasping, white-knuckled against the table.
His boyfriend plays him like a fine musical instrument, knowing just how to draw out the bitten back sounds of a man who is trying so hard not to alert the whole building that he is being fucked by an expert. Christian keens as Tyler licks up the shaft of his dick, only just managing to hold back the howl as Tyler's tongue presses against the nerves just under the head. If they were at home, Tyler would be encouraging him to 'Let it go, baby,' but here Tyler just smirks around Christian's cock at his restraint, and dives in for another attack.
Christian's flushed as red as his lipstick, the muscles in his thighs trembling as he watches Tyler suck in the head of his dick and then pause, deliberately looking up to make sure Christian is watching. It's one of Tyler's quirks. He has to know Christian is fine with what Tyler is doing, so he stops every now and then to check and the bastard just won't move until Christian gives him the okay. Of course, the fact it drives Christian mad is something that Tyler enjoys far too much.
Nerve-ends screaming with the anticipation of release, Christian meets Tyler's eyes, half-obscured by messy hair. He nods just once and holds on for the ride. Tyler doesn't waste any time, screwing down over the head and down the shaft, his tongue fluttering against the top of Christian's cock. He pulls back and goes down again, over and over, swallowing Christian until Tyler's nose is buried against his clipped pubes.
Christian is beyond speech, beyond thinking about anything except the sweet desire to empty his balls down Tyler's throat. He's got his hands clenched in Tyler's hair, his mouth making half-formed guttural sounds and any second now he's gonna be... there... Christian's back arches painfully, driving him deeper into Tyler's mouth and he's coming hard enough his ears are ringing. Jesus fuck!
He can feel Tyler's throat working around him, trying to not to choke against the sudden rush of come in his mouth. Christian tries to pull back, to give Tyler a chance to swallow and catch his breath, but his boyfriend refuses to budge, keeping him in place with his long fingers digging into Christian's hips. Tyler milks him through his orgasm, only letting him go when the sensation on his nerves is too much and Christian hisses.
Tyler lets Christian's softening cock slip out of his mouth with a last kiss. He sits back on his haunches and looks up at Christian, deliberately licking his lips. Christian may have had his words sucked out of his cock, but his dick still twitches and Tyler gives a smug chuckle. He shifts restlessly and Christian can see he's still hard under the restraint of his zip.
"Your turn?" Christian asks, and rubs the sole of his foot over Tyler's erection again.
"My turn," Tyler moans softly, "but I'm going to dress you first."
"Why am I not surprised?" Christian asks drily as he wipes himself with a damp wash cloth. Tyler may be all alpha male but that dress... it brings out a whole new animal. Christian has a feeling he's gonna be taking it home when the run has ended. Tyler grins at Christian's long suffering sigh. For all Christian's complaints, they both know he loves the way his costume reduces his boyfriend to a quivering heap of testosterone. They're both very predictable.
Being dressed by Tyler is an exercise in torture. He's all hands and kisses, nibbles on pulse points, biting and claiming, yet always careful not to leave marks where they could be visible and have to be covered up with make-up. Tyler tucks him away in his briefs and then smooths the tights up Christian's legs. Tyler's hands work the thin mesh up his calves and thighs.
"You'll need to shave again tomorrow," Tyler tells him, rolling the tights over Christian's ass.
Christian runs his hand over his calf. "I should have got them waxed," he grumbles.
"We'll do that soon." Tyler's hands are still way too busy with Christian's ass to be absolutely necessary.
He is dressed again in the red dress with the matching feathers, his first outfit in the show, when the call comes. "Fifteen minutes, Christian."
They look at each other. Christian starts to drop to his knees -- carefully, he doesn't want to put a hole in the tights, or worse, get baggy knees. He shudders at the thought of high kicks with the hosiery flapping around his calves.
"Wait!" Tyler hisses and leans back to the table. He returns with a tube and tilts Christian's face so that he can recoat Christian's lips in scarlet. Tyler's tongue licks along his own mouth as he reapplies the lipstick. Christian can smell his breath: mint, spunk, and something sweet sending a direct signal to Christian's cock.
Christian is unbuckling Tyler's belt and dragging his jeans down. Tyler's boxers are damp in the front and Christian wants to suck on the cotton to taste him but lipstick is a bitch to get out. He contents himself with pulling them down and wrapping his lips around Tyler's thick cock, humming contentedly as the bittersweet taste of pre-come sweeps across his tongue.
He hasn't got time to tease as much as they'd both like. He likes it best when they're lying together in their bed and he can take an hour to bring Tyler to climax. Despite the time restraint, he takes a minute to look up at his man. Tyler is resting against the table, his eyes heavy lidded as he stares down at the sight of Christian, red-painted mouth around the head of his dick.
"Please, Chris," Tyler's voice is oddly soft and pleading and one of his hands comes out to stroke Christian's face, his thumb running over the bulge of his cock in Christian's cheek.
Christian sinks a little lower. He can't deep throat like Tyler can but he knows how to bring his boyfriend off, his mouth leaving lipstick streaks down the shaft as he licks, his tongue following the thick vein and then flicking over the head. His hands start up their own rhythm at the base of Tyler's cock, one of them cupping and squeezing his balls. Unlike everyday life, Tyler is normally quieter than Christian in bed, but today he is crying out as Christian's mouth, tongue and hands drive him closer and closer to climax.
Conscious now of others overhearing them, Christian puts one hand up to Tyler's mouth. Two crimson polished nails are sucked desperately into Tyler's mouth. Christian pauses what he's doing to look up at Tyler, but his other hand doesn't stop pumping Tyler's cock.
"Get 'em good and wet, baby," he says huskily. Dark brown eyes grow wide as Tyler realizes what Christian intends to do and he sucks at them eagerly, whimpering all the time.
Christian is running out of time and he knows it, but Tyler is almost there, his head flung back as he tries to hold off. Christian needs Tyler's cock back in his mouth, wants to feel it pulse and spurt as he can't hold back any longer. Christian slides his finger back and pushes in gently against the ring of muscle. He presses in, feeling the resistance give way.
Tyler shouts out and Christian winces a little for the people in the adjoining rooms, but then it doesn't matter anymore as Tyler's hips buck once, twice and Christian's mouth is filled with come. He swallows quickly to avoid it running down his face and ruining his make-up. Next time, Christian promises himself, Tyler is going to stripe his face and then lick it all off.
Regretfully, Christian lets Tyler's cock slip out of his mouth to lie flaccid against one thigh. He kisses it gently, leaving behind another imprint of lipstick. Tyler is all but collapsed against the table. Getting to his feet, Christian kisses him, tongue seeking to share their taste. As he goes to pull away, Tyler's hand slides around the back of Christian's neck, drawing him in to make the kiss deeper.
"Five minutes, Christian. Tyler, you put him down now." The resigned voice from the other side of the door is amused more than anything.
Tyler laughs into Christian's mouth and kisses him again. There's always time for one more kiss.
Christian cleans his teeth and sits down before the table. As he reaches for the foundation, there's a momentary panic until they find it on the floor under the chair. He reaches for the sponge to redo his face; no matter how careful he is, blowjobs always smudge. Tyler stays his hand.
"Let me," he murmurs and Christian nods, tilting his head back so that Tyler can restore his face to that of a painted drag queen. He closes his eyes against the slow strokes of the sponge and the slight tickle of the make-up brush. Tyler is good at this, better than Christian in fact. Within a couple of minutes, Christian's face is restored. Tyler helps him on with the wig and hairpiece, making sure they are secure and kneels to slip the high-heeled shoes back on Christian's feet. They both check that the tights have survived the encounter with the floor, Tyler using it as a convenient excuse to grope Christian's legs again.
Now he is ready to leave Christian Ellis behind. Standing up, Christian waits while Tyler slides a clip into one errant curl and then they leave the dressing room together, hand in hand. As Christian waits for his cue, Tyler slips away to his regular seat by the stage. Christian knows that at the end of the performance Tyler will be waiting in his dressing room to undress him, kissing every inch of skin as it is exposed. It's the way it always is; this director is always there for his star.
(previous published in Torquere's Toy Box Anthology Lipstick)