alurrina - Tumblr blog

alurrina · 8 months ago

Text

A Shot for Life

A Harringrove fic by Suometar / camaro-and-smokes

Warnings: No warnings for this chapter Tags: Feelings? Feelings. Notes: A big and massive thank you to @a-redharlequin for betaing this fic and noticing the small mistakes I'm already blind to after staring at the text for months 💜

Chapter 4: Enchanted

Summary: Is he looking at me differently, or is it my imagination? he wondered, trying to shake off the growing tension. How does someone like him see someone like me? Could he see me the way I see him?

Read on AO3 »

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

The Bahamian sun, already well on its morning ascent, cast a warm glow on the vibrant street corner where Steve stepped out of the SUV behind Robin. He hefted his camera bag and adjusted his sunglasses, taking in the flurry of activity as the crew hustled to set up for the day’s photoshoot.

Robin looked around, impressed. “The set is even more gorgeous than I imagined. I saw the trees in the location photos, but didn’t know they’d be blooming now.”

Steve smiled. “Yeah, this is an amazing setting. It’s good that it’s a sunny day despite the forecast, plenty of natural light.”

Robin nodded. “Perfect day for a perfect shoot.”

Billy emerged from another vehicle in the middle of the buzzing set. His eyes darted over the people hurrying around, skimming the surrounding site, the street, the buildings, the trees and their flowers that seemed to bloom everywhere.

He noticed Steve standing on the other side of the set and talking with his assistant, Robin. As if feeling his gaze, Steve turned to look in his direction and a smile that made Billy’s cheeks heat flashed on his face.

“Morning!” Steve greeted him.

Billy waved and walked to them. “Quite the setup, huh?” he remarked, trying to sound nonchalant as he sidestepped to let the stylist to scurry by with a rack of garments they’d be shooting today.

“This is how big brands do it. Nothing is done by halves,” Steve replied.

Billy nodded, absently fiddling with the strap of his backpack. The hustle of the crew and the clacking of heels on the cobblestone filled him with anticipation, but also with a certain ease. Set being alive like this was familiar to him, calming, even. Everyone had a task to fill, and they did that wholeheartedly. And he knew he and Steve would, too.

“Steve!” Gavin Anderson’s voice cut through the commotion as he approached, holding an iPad.

Steve waved at him. “Morning! You got today’s plan?”

Gavin nodded, opening the tablet.

Billy watched them from his spot. Gavin explaining the composures he wanted for each garment and Steve nodding, making approving sounds, and giving input from time to time.

“Thoughts on this?” Gavin asked, pointing to one sketch on the screen.

“Bold,” Steve appraised, studying the sketch with a practiced eye. “It’ll play well against this colorful backdrop. Let’s ask what Billy thinks.”

Billy’s ears perked up at the mention of his name. What do I think? He hadn’t expected to be allowed to give input to something of this caliber.

“Of course,” Gavin agreed, his eyes glancing toward Billy with earnest intrigue.

Billy walked to them and looked at the screen. “Uh, looks fantastic,” he chimed in, perhaps a bit too eagerly. “I’m fine with anything.”

Steve looked at him. “If that’s what you think, I’m good with that,” he said, offering a brief, encouraging smile. “But you can also say it if you have any other ideas. I’m always open for ideas.”

Billy looked at Steve, not quite believing his words. He smiled a small smile, nodding and feeling a new excitement at the shoot. “Well, maybe you could try it from some other angle? Like, from a low angle?”

Steve looked at the sketch for a moment in silence, pursing his lips in thought.

Billy’s eyes wandered over Steve’s profile; to the line of his jaw, the shade of his gray-peppered stubble he hadn’t bothered to shave, and his silver hair that was tousled by the gentle breeze.

“Yeah, we can try that,” Steve finally agreed. “I don’t know how it will work if there’s any wind because it will either lift the garment and break the flow, or then flatten it out and kill the movement altogether. But if there’s a moment when it dies, I’ll take the shot.”

Billy felt exhilarated about being able to contribute to the shoot. He’d never experienced that before and having that happen here, now, totally unexpected and out of all photographers with Steve…He kept surprising Billy in every turn.

+ + +

Steve’s shutter clicked and whirred as he captured Billy in one angle after another. He directed Billy with a calm tone, every instruction laced with encouragement. “Chin up. Hold it there...perfect,” his voice cut through the air, each word precise, yet warm.

Billy didn’t break his expression but couldn’t keep the pride and giddiness for all the praise he was getting from Steve from causing goosebumps rippling on his skin. He began to trust his own vision more and offered bolder poses that Steve immortalized.

“Excellent work. You’re a natural,” Steve complimented as he lowered his camera, smiling.

The smile made Billy’s widen in return as he stepped on the side for a change of clothes. “Thank you.”

When he returned a while later in front of Steve’s camera, the set had been changed to highlight the new garments.

“Alright,” Steve started, “Think about the garment, the setting, and then give me the pose you feel works best.”

Billy did what was asked, and tried but couldn’t hide the fact that working together like this, collaborating, made him excited in a whole new way.

+ + +

When lunchtime arrived, the crew dispersed and Robin went back to the hotel with Gavin and the stylist to prepare for the afternoon. Steve carried his set lunch to the small park a block away from the set. He found himself a shaded bench beneath a blooming tree where he could eat alone. Sitting down, he closed his eyes to ground himself, listening to the sounds of the city for a moment; honking cars, calling vendors, women chatting as they walked on the other side of the street, screeching seagulls somewhere in the distance.

The morning shoot had been more intense than he had imagined. Billy was, of course, a professional with his modeling work, no doubt about it. But what had surprised Steve was his vision. Gavin had given Steve pretty much free rein within the brief, and what he usually did when he had that kind of freedom was to look for inspiration in unexpected places.

And Billy was like a breath of fresh air he didn’t know he’d needed.

Of course, not all the ideas Billy had given fit the campaign, but there were some that did—ones Steve hadn’t even thought about. When he’d composed those shots on the viewfinder of his camera, he saw they worked even better than what he had envisioned.

But they wouldn’t have done that if Billy wasn’t on the other side of the lens. Billy knew what they were trying to get to and thus helped Steve to achieve that. He was thrilled with the shots he’d taken so far, even if he had looked at them only briefly.

Apparently, sometimes you just had to go totally hopeless about the lack of inspiration for it to surprise you by coming from somewhere you least expected.

“Can I join you?”

Steve snapped out of his thoughts at the sudden voice and looked up, finding Billy looking at him with a small smile. He rushed to move his camera bag to make space for him. “Yeah. Absolutely.”

Billy sat down and looked around at the lush surroundings. “Never thought I’d be eating jerk chicken on a break,” Billy commented, examining his food with an almost childlike curiosity.

Steve chuckled softly, amused. “It’s one of the perks of the job. Traveling and experiencing new cultures.”

“I just hope this isn’t the only time I get to do this,” Billy replied and took a bite.

Steve watched Billy savor the taste of the food with his eyes closed. “I’m sure it’s not.” He looked down at his own lunch that was sitting in his lap and realized he hadn't even touched it yet. “You’ve got a great visual eye.” He paused, feeling his professional pride taking a tiny dent, even if he, too, was still constantly learning and coming up with new ideas. But Billy being so young and having that kind of vision and talent was different. “The suggestions you gave worked surprisingly well. I hadn’t considered some of them for this campaign but after trying them…Of course it’s up to Gavin if they end up using those photos…” his voice trailed off. He stared at his food for a bit longer and then glanced at Billy. “You’ve got raw talent.”

Billy looked up, his eyes meeting Steve’s. Surprise flashed across his face, followed by a smile that softened his features. “That means a lot, coming from you. Really,” he said quietly. “I want to make it in this industry—not just as a model, but…” The unfinished sentence was left hanging in the air, unsure.

Steve looked back at his food with a small smile. “No matter what your aspirations are, I’m sure you’ll make it. You have the right attitude and you have vision. Those alone will take you further than most.”

After taking a few bites, Billy continued. “I’ve wanted to be a photographer for a long time. Like, not just an amateur, but a serious one. In this business. Or shooting whatever else, really. Making a living.”

Steve, who had finally opened his own lunch container and was now eating, looked back at Billy, curious. “You have the eye for sure.” He paused to think how to word his thoughts without revealing too much of how long he’d lingered on Billy’s selfies when he’d looked at his Instagram profile on Instagram. “When I looked at your feed on IG, there were several excellent shots. And mixed with the captions, they told one big story that left the viewer to yearn for more. Few can do that quite the way you can.”

Billy nodded, his cheeks turning rosy and his eyes sparkling as he looked down at his lunch. “I just do my thing. That’s all,” he said, smiling.

Steve felt an unfamiliar tightness in his chest. He let his gaze rest on Billy for a moment, the way the sunlight was caught in his blond curls, making them look like spun gold. Inwardly, he scolded himself for allowing his mind to wander into forbidden territory. He was here to work with Billy and if anything else it was to support and advice him, not for anything else.

“Well, your thing is great,” Steve stated, steering the conversation back to safer grounds, and took a bite of his meal. “Working as a photographer is difficult, but if you’re willing to learn constantly and push through the tough times…You’re going places, no matter if you choose the path of a model or a photographer. Or both.” He paused for a moment. “You know, I started as a model, too.”

Billy looked at him, surprised. “I didn’t know that.”

“Not that many do,” Steve replied with a smile. “Just some catalog work as a teenager. Then I got hooked on photography and applied to the New York Film Academy to study for an art degree. Got in, and here I am.”

“That sounds straightforward.”

“Oh trust me, it wasn’t,” Steve chuckled. “It took a lot of mistakes and unused opportunities to get to this point. It’s more of a sum of unexpected consequences than anything else.”

“Well, it doesn’t show then, I guess,” Billy remarked. “You always seem so…put together.”

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Steve replied, a wistful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He thought about the perception people had of him—cold, distant—and wondered briefly if showing his true self at this point to more people would change anything anymore.

After a while, Billy spoke. “Thank you. For the advice—for believing in me,” he said earnestly, gratitude resonating in his words.

“Anytime,” Steve answered, warmth seeping into his tone.

The break neared its end, and as they rose to return to the set, the distance between them seemed shorter than before. There was a tension now, one that hadn’t existed before—a recognition of blurry lines somewhere as possibilities, shrouded in unspoken rules that only the brave dared to break.

+ + +

After returning to the shoot, Steve watched Billy’s posture transforming with ease in front of his camera. With each click of the shutter, Billy’s confidence seemed to grow. He moved fluidly from pose to pose, his body language speaking volumes. Steve found himself silently nodding, impressed by the young model’s natural instinct for the camera’s gaze.

“Chin up... yes, hold that,” Steve directed, his voice steady over the soft murmur of the gentle breeze. Through his lens, he caught the nuances of Billy’s expression, the subtle shift of muscles and the light in his eyes. It was clear to Steve that Billy wasn’t just playing a part; he was bringing a part of himself to every frame.

Billy felt the weight of Steve’s gaze, not just as a subject to a photographer, but as one artist appreciating another. The way Steve communicated through the camera, each instruction delivered with precision and care, made the shoot unlike any Billy had ever experienced before.

The rumored icy veneer of the acclaimed photographer that followed Steve no matter where he went was nowhere to be seen. Instead, Billy was working with a man whose passion for the craft resonated with every shutter click.

“Ease into the next pose,” Steve said, his tone a blend of command and encouragement.

Billy transitioned seamlessly, his body reacting to Steve’s words almost as if they were in sync. He felt an admiration growing within him, not just for Steve’s skill, but for the person behind the camera—a man who could capture the essence of a moment with clarity and beauty.

It was then Billy realized that Steve Harrington deserved every accolade he had received—and more.

As Billy followed Steve’s guidance almost instinctively, from half a word, Steve found his heart thrumming with a new rhythm.

He’d felt like this before, a long time ago, and as exhilarating as it was, it was also chilling. To be intrigued was one thing, to… crush on someone through the intimacy of a lens a whole other one.

It was dangerous because they were creating something new together on both sides of his camera—and falling for the subject of it might not be for the person but for the art they created together. And those two were very different things.

“You’re on fire,” he praised, the words slipping from him with unexpected ease as he watched through the viewfinder, each snap of the camera an attempt to encapsulate the beauty before him.

“Am I?” Billy asked with a playful lilt, as he stopped for the makeup artist to remove the sheen from his skin.

Steve found himself unable to keep himself from laughing. When Billy joined him, in that moment, something shifted.

“Yes, you are. Please keep burning,” Steve said with a smile and lifted his camera back up.

Billy shifted from one pose to another, his body moving with an effortless grace that hid the rapid beating of his heart. In the brief pauses of outfit changes, he found his gaze darting towards Steve, drinking in the sight. The air around them was suddenly thick with something unspoken.

“Excellent,” Steve said, his voice steady. “Hold that, just like that.”

Billy complied, but his mind raced. Is he looking at me differently, or is it my imagination? he wondered, trying to shake off the growing tension. How does someone like him see someone like me? Could he see me the way I see him?

“Let’s try something more…candid,” Steve said, feeling emboldened by the connection he felt tethering with Billy through his lens. “Close your eyes. Think of someone you want—no, someone you…crave. Then let that yearning show as you walk towards me like you’re meeting them after a long time apart.”

The artist in him truly wanted to see that vulnerability, that truth, and how it would bring something new to the photos. But there was a hidden notion underneath of him wanting to see and feel it for real, directed at him.

It was dangerously blurring the lines he should keep in a set—or with the people he worked with. He knew that, and still…

Billy complied, his lashes resting against his flushed cheeks, lips parted slightly. Steve captured the sight, his breath hitching in his throat. When Billy opened his eyes again and looked directly at the camera, the intensity within them was undeniable, reaching out and wrapping around Steve, pulling at something deep inside him.

As Billy walked towards Steve’s camera, he couldn’t help but feel as though he were indeed approaching someone dear; the flutter in his stomach grew into a swarm of butterflies. I am stupidly fond of him, even though I barely know him, Billy scolded himself internally. Yet, he couldn’t help but feel that there was something between them, something else than just mere professional admiration.

From behind the camera, Steve watched Billy approach, his finger hesitating on the shutter button. He saw not just the model, but the person beneath—the vulnerability and the passion that radiated from him. He’s captivating, Steve admitted to himself, feeling a warmth spread through his chest.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, finding that any of his usual carefully curated words felt hollow in the wake of what he truly wanted to say. He lowered his camera and turned away from Billy to shade the camera, as if to check the latest photos on the small display.

But it was to hide the fact that he’d realized that he’d almost accidentally stepped outside of all the borders he’d so meticulously kept up for years. Ones he had emphasized to Robin just a mere week ago. It had happened so easily and it scared him that it didn’t feel wrong at all.

For a moment, he wondered if feelings would steer his work away from what they were after. If they would blur the lines on the set too much, or if they would show in the photos in a wrong way. He found himself lost between the professionalism he’d held in such high regard all these years and the undeniable, improper emotion that was now budding in his chest—between the well known, tested and truly working path, and an unexplored trail that had suddenly opened in front of him—one he was more curious to explore than he was willing to admit.

When he turned back to Billy, he was looking back with a slight tilt of his head and a smile that tugged the corner of his mouth.

“The shot…or me?” Billy asked quietly, a hint of vulnerability threaded through his teasing tone.

Steve smiled and his cheeks flushed. He had thought Billy was far enough to not hear the word over the sounds from the street. Clearly, he’d been mistaken. He allowed honesty to seep into his voice. “Both.”

The word hung in the air, heavy with implication. Steve’s usual reservedness wavered under the pull of attraction, and for the first time in years, he allowed himself to look at someone he worked with—not just as a subject, but as a possibility, a maybe, a what if.

17 notes · View notes

alurrina · 8 months ago

Text

Billy can be difficult to read at times. If he isn’t actively hiding his emotions altogether, he usually reads as angry no matter the mood he’s in.

This makes it difficult to interact with him.

Unless you’re Steve.

There are very tiny details that signal what kind of pissed off Billy is at any given time — sad pissed or mad pissed.

After watching him huff and mope around the kitchen with his arms crossed, Steve determines easily that it’s the former. While this means that the issue is likely more difficult to resolve, he’s glad that his lover isn’t angry.

Last time they argued in front of company, things… escalated.

Steve realistically knows that he’s never in danger. That Billy just has big emotions and doesn’t know how to express them in healthy, communicative ways sometimes.

The kids, however, see him getting red in the face and raising his voice and think that all hell is about to break loose.

The drama of it all gives Steve a headache just thinking about it.

He pads into the kitchen just in time to find Billy solemnly closing the pantry for the umpteenth time, and fixes the blond with a soft smile.

“Hey, Stevie,” Billy sighs.

He crosses his arms and leans against the pantry door, eyes downcast as the brunet steps closer.

“Hey,” Steve coos. “What’re you over here being all bummy about, huh?”

Billy shrugs halfheartedly, brows drawing together, and the little conversation going on around the kitchen table stops.

Dustin and Mike had been discussing character concepts for their next campaign, the tabletop spread with notes and drawings and books for references.

All of that gets put on pause for a moment.

Steve keeps his focus on Billy.

“Brain stuff again?” Steve asks, voice quiet. When Billy nods after a brief moment of hesitation, he cocks his head to the side. “What spots are you feeling sad about, tubs?”

Billy huffs a laugh at the nickname, but frowns as he looks down. Just below his crossed arms, there’s the gentle pooch of his stomach. Steve follows his gaze and smiles at the sight. Moves closer and sets one of his hands on Billy’s waist, rubbing his thumb back and forth.

“Go figure it’s something that I like,” Steve muses.

“Fuck off.”

Billy’s face flushes red, and he tenses up when Steve’s touches move closer and closer to his softened abdomen.

“You’re such a hater,” Steve murmurs. He presses closer, shuffling Billy up against the pantry door with both hands on his waist as he leans into his neck. “Always disliking my favorite things.”

The blond uncrosses his arms and secures his hands on Steve’s shoulders. Doesn’t pull or push, just rests his hands there while Steve ghosts kisses over the corner of his jaw.

It doesn’t take much to smooth out the hard edges.

After all, Billy is, at his core, melted sugar. Warm honey dissolving at the bottom of a teacup. Everything soft and sweet and all too easy to overindulge on.

Steve sneaks a hand around his back, presses him away from the pantry and into an all-encompassing hug. It has Billy sighing softly once he’s wrapped up, his own arms lacing around Steve after a beat.

“I mean it when I say I like it, y’know.” Steve gives his partner a reassuring squeeze. “I know that doesn’t change how you feel about it, but I’m here to help however I can, baby. All you gotta do is ask.”

Billy holds his breath for a moment before he hides his face in Steve’s shoulder.

“I know,” he whispers.

“Mm, did you want a snack?”

“Yeah…”

“Would it be easier if I had one with you?”

After a brief silence, Billy nods. Steve gives him one last, firm squeeze before he pulls away and offers a gentle smile when he notices how glassy and red-rimmed his lover’s eyes look.

Together, they have a snack cake of Billy’s choice, and the blond’s demeanor changes almost immediately after he takes the first bite. Steve smooths a loving hand over his upper back before he ropes him into his side, which earns a little smile in return.

At the table, Dustin and Mike have returned to chatting about their concepts. No longer bothered by the display in the kitchen.

Even if no one else can read Billy, Steve’s just glad that the element of fear is withering away.

One day at a time.

126 notes · View notes