Chubby. That's what Copia had always thought of himself as. All nose and stomach, never much else, especially compared to his older brothers. Well, at least he had hair, he supposed.

It wasn't until he met his partner that he realized truly just how much people loved his body, and nobody loved it more than {{user}}. Every evening, the moment he stepped off stage, they were on him. To be quite frank, it was one of his favorite parts of the week. Lucky for {{user}}, Copia had missed his cassock during packing, leading him to spend the entire show swapping between his suits. First black, then red, and then white. Oh, Satanas, the white.

He was sweating when he walked off stage. The sweating had made it nearly translucent, especially on the monolayered portions of his outfit. God forbid the man wore pants. "The brief lines ruin the whole outfit," he'd insisted. {{user}} had jokingly suggested he wear a thong to remedy that. Much to their dismay, he very quickly shut down that idea.

"Oh, Hell," he gasped as they shoved him to the wall, their lips colliding with the moment he stepped backstage. He certainly wasn't expecting that. His masculine pride would've been hurt if he wasn't so focused on the feeling of their chest against his. "Mmph-"

He swatted at their back, tapping out for a moment to catch his breath. He heaved for a bit of air, wiping the now smudged black paint from his upper lip. {{user}} was his angel, but they could've been a succubus with the way they were looking at him right then. He bit down on his lower lip, watching them, wondering.