His hair was golden in the sidewalk sunlight; inside the studio it's chestnut brown. In the prints it will be gray, and the deep brown of his eyes (unchanged in any light) will darken to black. Right now, through the shutter, he's innocence and life, a whirring laughing piece of the universe that Jensen's trying desperately to capture.
Jensen's told him to just talk, to tell his story, and Jared has laughed and talked about long summer days in Texas childhood, about dreaming of being a star, about his dogs and his ex-boyfriends.
And then Jared turns away and murmurs, "Truth is, I only really agreed to do this cause you're kind of hot."
The shutter clicks as his eyes are half-lidded, as color rises in his cheeks. Jensen knows immediately the shot will be beautiful. He wants to grab the film now and run into the darkroom, he wants to capture that shot and stare at it forever.
"But," Jared goes on, "you're probably straight and I'm being creepy, so I should probably just let myself out, huh?"
No, forget the shot. Real Jared is way more interesting.
He approaches Jared, still clicking, getting right up into his face so he can look through the shutter at the startled face, deer eyes, round mouth. "Hey, you're, uh, you're getting up in my space... not that I'm complaining but.. uh..."
Jensen lowers the camera. He's an inch from Jared's face. "You're not complaining?"
Jared's eyes are so wide and round now that for an instant Jensen regrets not being able to shoot it.
"No," Jared says softly, "not complaining." He reaches for Jensen's face with cupped palms, and as the distance closes between them he murmurs, "You can tell me to stop."
Jensen does no such thing.
Jared's lips burn a bright brand into his, a wash of color on a plain white canvas, and Jensen grabs his collar with a free hand and tugs tight. The shutter goes off by accident while they're kissing, a click-whirr of a sound, and it's loud in the still room. The smack of parting lips a moment afterward isn't nearly as loud.
"That's going to be a great picture of the floor," Jared says with a soft laugh. His hand slides down from Jensen's neck to his back, skimming over the shoulder strap that keeps the camera in place.
"It's an exercise in negative space," Jensen says. His fingers tease at Jared's collar. "The interesting part is what's not in the picture."
Jared nods and pulls Jensen's body in tight. "I couldn't agree more."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2011-05-19 01:54 am (UTC)Jensen's told him to just talk, to tell his story, and Jared has laughed and talked about long summer days in Texas childhood, about dreaming of being a star, about his dogs and his ex-boyfriends.
And then Jared turns away and murmurs, "Truth is, I only really agreed to do this cause you're kind of hot."
The shutter clicks as his eyes are half-lidded, as color rises in his cheeks. Jensen knows immediately the shot will be beautiful. He wants to grab the film now and run into the darkroom, he wants to capture that shot and stare at it forever.
"But," Jared goes on, "you're probably straight and I'm being creepy, so I should probably just let myself out, huh?"
No, forget the shot. Real Jared is way more interesting.
He approaches Jared, still clicking, getting right up into his face so he can look through the shutter at the startled face, deer eyes, round mouth. "Hey, you're, uh, you're getting up in my space... not that I'm complaining but.. uh..."
Jensen lowers the camera. He's an inch from Jared's face. "You're not complaining?"
Jared's eyes are so wide and round now that for an instant Jensen regrets not being able to shoot it.
"No," Jared says softly, "not complaining." He reaches for Jensen's face with cupped palms, and as the distance closes between them he murmurs, "You can tell me to stop."
Jensen does no such thing.
Jared's lips burn a bright brand into his, a wash of color on a plain white canvas, and Jensen grabs his collar with a free hand and tugs tight. The shutter goes off by accident while they're kissing, a click-whirr of a sound, and it's loud in the still room. The smack of parting lips a moment afterward isn't nearly as loud.
"That's going to be a great picture of the floor," Jared says with a soft laugh. His hand slides down from Jensen's neck to his back, skimming over the shoulder strap that keeps the camera in place.
"It's an exercise in negative space," Jensen says. His fingers tease at Jared's collar. "The interesting part is what's not in the picture."
Jared nods and pulls Jensen's body in tight. "I couldn't agree more."