addictsitter: Crossdressing! Also, optional incest.
Nick lets his brothers get ahold of him once, and he sorely regrets those pictures to this day. Joe had carefully flat-ironed his hair, while Kevin critiqued his technique and spritzed maximum holding gel on it to keep the unruly curls in place. He looked like a science experiment gone horribly wrong, and the internet has the proof.
Nick, because he firmly believes revenge is a dish best served cold, waits a long time before he gets them back. Kevin’s much easier than Joe. All he does is tell Kev that yeah, that scarf is really cool, it totally goes with his boots and just lets him walk out the door. He copies all the links into a special folder in his bookmarks and links Kevin to OceanUp. He sits in his room and tries not to smile when Kevin bursts in the door. Kevin struggles to yell at him before making a frustrated noise and slamming the door on his way back out.
Joe is a lot harder to prank. Joe has the amazing ability to wear the stupidest shit and get away with it, like he’s some of fashion trailblazer. Nick is pretty sure no one else, including himself, has ever made gold clothing work.
Nick tries making him carry a purse, but Joe just thinks that’s even cooler, somehow, and Nick ends up with a leather briefcase slung on his hip because otherwise, it would blow his cover and let Joe know he was trying to fuck with him. He has to defend himself to the entire band for a long time, and accept all the jokes on what he carries in his manpurse, until he can safely park it in his closet and just chalk it up to a phase.
Nick knows that the count’s against him right now, and it’s either go down looking or swing for the fences. He has to pinch most of it from his mom’s drawer, hoping she won’t notice that it’s gone until he has time to put it back, but the red lipstick he has to go buy himself. He throws it in with a bunch of other crap he doesn’t need and hopes the cashier won’t turn him in for it. She doesn’t even pause from popping her pink bubblegum long enough to look past his ball cap and sunglasses to know who he is. She rings him up and takes his card with a half-hearted sigh, turning back to her magazine before he’s even properly out of line.
He thinks about trying to trick Joe into putting the make-up on, but that didn’t work with the purse so why would it work now? Instead, he figures an ambush attack and wrestling him into the chair is a better bet. He’s taller than Joe now, and they’ve been working out together for a while now. He totally can bench more than his brother any day.
“Shit,” Joe swears, when Nick barrels into him as soon as he comes through the hotel door. It only takes a couple of cheap shots to get him in the chair, and Nick holds him there with a couple of shoves to his shoulders.
It’s mostly a joke, threatening him with blush and eyeliner, except Joe only flinches away because he says the brush tickles and he totally doesn’t believe that Nick knows what he’s doing.
“You’re going to take my eye out.”
“Just sit still, damn,” Nick huffs out, and Joe just frowns deeply, before looking up at the ceiling. They’ve all worn a little pancake makeup for photo-shoots or at least had an airbrush taken to their pimples, but nothing like a dark smudge of kohl around their eyes or red lipstick on their lips. Nick messes up Joe’s eyes probably three times, but he finds that if he drags his ring finger across Joe’s lashes, it blurs into something that looks more natural than the harsh, uneven line that he had drawn.
Joe isn’t even fighting him anymore, and Nick thinks that should take some of the fun out this, but Joe’s skin is already so smooth and dark that the little bit of black around his eyes just makes them look better, and Nick sort of wishes he knew what he was doing all of sudden.
Nick leans over to the desk where he had dumped his scavenged goods and that’s when he notices that he’s got one knee between Joe’s legs, the kind of unconscious move one makes when they are just trying to get closer so they can see, and Joe isn’t making him move.
He has to break the plastic seal on the lipstick, and he knows Joe sees him doing it. Instead of getting shy about it, he leans Joe’s head back with a couple of fingers on his chin and tells him to shut up.
“I didn’t say anything,” Joe croaks, and Nick ignores him. He smears red waxy lipstick across his lips, going outside the lines in a few places. He makes sure to cover it all before he goes back with his thumb to clean off Joe’s upper lip. The red stain on his thumb looks a little like a drop of blood, from when he tests his sugar, and he wipes it on Joe’s white v-neck just to watch his brother squirm.
“This is your shirt anyway,” Joe answers smugly, and Nick just presses his thumb harder into Joe’s chin. Joe’s eyelashes are too long, curling slightly all on their own, and Nick slides forward another inch.
Kissing Joe feels like taking a baseball right to the chest.