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Summary
His brother emerged carrying a very distinctive little bag in his hands, one swirling with color. Rosinante raised an eyebrow in his direction, pointedly signaling at the makeup bag in his hands.
“Rosi,” his brother asked, holding the bag between his index and thumb and waving it precariously in the air. “May I do it for you?”
Rosinante frowned, making to rise from the bed. Doflamingo, in turn, walked over to the piece of furniture, kneeling on the edge as he followed him with his eyes causing Rosinante to freeze like a prey animal as his brother crawled to him over the covers. Doflamingo’s fingers were cold as they splayed over his naked chest, lightly but firmly pushing him back onto the mattress once again.
“Rosi,” Doflamingo’s voice could only be described as a purr, his name rolling out of his tongue like honey. Rosinante felt flush from where his brother’s nails raked on his abdomen, all the way up to his cheeks. “May I do you?”-.-.-
Or, Doflamingo whines about doing Cora's makeup for him.