Bits and Pieces

Shoot

My entire body was shaking. The long jog in the thick LA heat had felt good, but the blasting AC from my car was better, and I soaked it up as I drove home. I had run like I was being chased, and the adrenaline still vibrated through me. I needed to get a handle on myself. Well, I needed someone else to get a handle on me, but that was a complicated issue.

There were two extra cars in the driveway when I got home, confusing me for a moment before I remembered Mitch's photoshoot. Luke and Genevieve would be here, making magic. With my sweat soaked clothes and hair, I felt a bit unworthy to even enter the house, but the thought of sprawling out under my ceiling fan won out. I came in as quietly as I could, then rolled my eyes at tiptoeing around my own house. It wasn't like Luke was recording anything with audio.

I ran across Gen first, helping herself to a bottle of water from the fridge. "Hey you," she said brightly, and I grinned at her. I liked that she didn't immediately cringe at my appearance, but rather handed me her water bottle and then went to fetch a second for herself.

"Thanks," I said. "How's it going?"

"It's going good. Mitch looks amazing, of course. You should go look."

"I don't want to interrupt them."

Gen took a long sip of her water. I could tell she was parsing her words. Everyone seemed to do that around me lately, and I knew why. The planets were perfectly aligned for me and Mitch to finally get around to what we've been hinting at for years. To take the occasional needy hookup and turn it into something more permanent and official. And yet, as I felt myself settling into this inevitability, I could feel him fighting it. The last thing I wanted to do was force it. I had to be patient. And I had to go on long, sweaty runs in the canyon whenever patience failed me.

"I'm sure he'd be happy to see you," Gen said finally. "They are both perfectionists, as you know. I'm not sure they've come up with the shot yet. Maybe you can help."

I made a face. It was unlikely that I could inspire anything amazing, but I did want to see him. He said there was a white wig and I was curious about that. Gen led the way down the hall to the room that had been transformed into Luke's travelling studio. Every square inch was filled with equipment and lights and cables. There was a makeup chair, now empty, and a little pathway, and then I saw the two of them, the photographer with his keen eyes staring through the lens of an expensive camera, and then Mitch. He was sitting back on his heels, shirtless, covered in colorful tattoos. The white wig was a short bob that framed his face perfectly, and his lips were bright red. Those lips...

Some sort of strangled noise escaped my throat, and both boys turned to face me. "Sorry," I choked. "I just...I just wanted..."

"It's fine," Luke said, lowering the camera and giving his tired shoulders a shrug. "Good to see you again."

"And you," I replied absently. I couldn't even look at him for more than a second. Mitch kept pulling my focus. Luke noticed this and turned back to his subject. I saw his head tilt comically, like a dog who's heard a far off sound.

"What just happened?" he asked, and I wasn't sure at first if he was talking to me or Mitch. "You look...different."

Mitch, whose eyes had been trained on me, blinked and looked back at Luke. "What?"

"God, your eyes... And there's a flush in your face. Scott! Come in here, closer!" he ordered.

"No, I'm just gonna go up and grab a shower. I don't want to--"

"Come here!" Luke yelled again, staring through the lens at Mitch and firing off shot after shot.

"What's happening?" Mitch asked, confused.

"I've been waiting for that spark in your eyes that I saw the last time I shot you. I wondered if it was the makeup hiding it, but no... I think it was Scott."

"What?" I mumbled and I heard Mitch echo my question.

Luke turned my way for a moment. "He's beautiful. Almost painfully so, you know that. But when that beauty is seen through your filter... Jesus..."

"I still don't understand," Mitch said. His hand wandered to push the white-blond strands of the wig out of his face before remembering he shouldn't touch. He blinked his long, false lashes instead.

"I think he's saying you're more beautiful when I'm close to you," I said. My sweaty skin seemed to burn even hotter as I said those words.

"You mean, you make me better?"

"No," I said, shaking my head fiercely. "You're already perfect. Maybe I just focus you...?"

"The look in your eyes right now," Luke whispered. "That awe, that longing. It's perfect. Hold still."

Mitch obeyed, continuing to stare up at me as Luke flashed one shot after another.

"So close," Luke muttered. "It's almost there. I just... I need you to be...overwhelmed."

Mitch's face relaxed then, into a smile I knew too well. His dimples deepened and his lashes fluttered and I saw an edge of white teeth as he bit down on his blood red lip. "Take off your shirt," he whispered.

Is that what would overwhelm him? I was sweaty and gross, but behind his shyness was a hunger that Luke was trying desperately to capture in his rapid fire shots. I could feel Gen behind me, hovering or perhaps hiding near the door. I wanted to care that I had an audience, but in that moment, nothing existed for me besides Mitch's perfect dark eyes, lined in black and gold, framed by that pure white wig. I pulled the damp shirt over my head, ran a hand through my hair, let him see my desperation, and it happened. Mitch raised his hand to his chest, sucking in a sharp breath and staring up at me as though I was an angel of God, welcoming him home.

"Yessss," Luke hissed, clicking repeatedly, finding some sort of release in knowing we'd done it, that we'd struck the gold we'd been digging for.

I needed to leave now, to run and hide. Mitch's eyes were too wide and trusting and awed, and I didn't deserve them. But as much as his eyes made me uneasy, his lips made me ravenously hungry, to the point where I couldn't resist a second longer. Forgetting my audience entirely, I flung my body forward, kneeling before him and pushing my mouth onto his. The red lipstick smeared under my assualt, and I'm sure Gen was scowling at me, but I couldn't make myself care. Not when Mitch's hands reached around me and pulled me in tight.

The wig wasn't secured well, was only for aesthetics. It slipped off only seconds into this violent kiss, leaving his head bare and vulnerable. I wasn't used to it yet, this smooth naked skin. It slipped under my fingers as I held him close, trying to devour him. Only when I opened my eyes to look at him did I see the flashing of Luke's camera hadn't stopped. I leaned back, dazed and breathless, and Mitch's eyes were glazed with tears.

"Baby," I whispered, tilting his chin toward me when he tried to look away. He overpowered me, looking at his skinny knees as he peeled the false eyelashes away. When he met my eyes again, he was more himself, some sort of beautiful mess of himself. Black eyeliner smudges lined his eyes and red streaks of lipstick arched over one cheek. I wanted to cry too; he was too perfect. "Are you okay?"

It took a while for him to answer, and his voice was a bit hoarse when he did. "I have a whole different makeup look I still have to do," he mumbled. "But then... I want... Can we maybe go somewhere? Together?"

"Of course," I breathed, and I leaned in very slowly and pressed one more kiss to his slightly swollen mouth. His sigh was warm against my skin, and I didn't want to leave him. But I managed it, hearing Luke's camera clicking in overtime as I walked away.