Dave walked into the bedroom that he had been sharing with John for the past three months, hands shaking with determinedly concealed anticipation. He was wearing a black sweater with dark jeans and holding the new professional camera he had gotten as a Christmas gift from John up with both hands, surveying his surroundings (and now his adorable boyfriend) only through the lens. John was sitting primly on the end of the bed, wearing an argyle sweater in gray, robin's-egg blue and orange with light blue jeans. Their eyes met briefly over the camera when Dave lowered it. He almost never wore his sunglasses while inside their apartment anymore. "Are you ready for your shoot, Mr. Egbert?" John had never previously heard Dave speak in such a silky tone. He was going to be really good at this, obviously, even on their first try. John, meanwhile, was currently fighting down both nervousness and a fit of laughter.
"Hmmm..." John responded, finally, "Do you think my hair looks alright? Your stylist is a pretty big fan of hairspray." He was already fighting the urge to start laughing when Dave walked over to him and gently brushed a strand of hair away from his face, effectively smothering the urge. "You look perfect, sir." He took a step back. "Can we begin?" John laughed a bit nervously and nodded. He spent the next fifteen minutes striking pose after pose while Dave photographed him, the majority of his poses and expressions somewhat silly. After a while, Dave lowered his camera thoughtfully. "You know what might really spice these pictures up, sir? If you took those pants off." Heat spread across John's face and he hesitated briefly before nodding. His dad had warned him countless times about taking compromising photographs, but he truly trusted Dave. "Okay!" he finally answered brightly.
John carefully removed his pants while Dave continued taking pictures, revealing powder-blue boxer briefs. "Gorgeous!" Dave grinned. He began directing John on how to pose. "How about you turn around for a few of these, sir?" "Now let's try a few lying down." The pictures were turning out significantly less silly under Dave's direction. "You know, I think you should remove that sweater, too, sir." Dave's voice had grown increasingly seductive throughout the shoot until each syllable was sending little tingles through John's body. "A-alright! Of course!" he stuttered, attempting to continue sounding like a professional model, or at least the way he imagined one sounding. He removed the sweater the same way he had removed his jeans, slowly, so that Dave could photograph the act. After he finished, he was left in his boxer briefs and thin white v-neck t-shirt. He was growing quite flushed.
Dave did not pause, documenting every single moment. He could barely believe his luck. Where had he gone so right as to score a boyfriend who was not only the hottest and also somehow most adorable, hilarious, and genuine person he had ever encountered, but on top of all that was even open-minded enough to participate in something like this with him, no matter how silly it made him feel? John was doing this for him, he knew that, and that meant the world to him. He also knew that John would not have done this for anyone else on the planet, and that meant even perhaps a bit more. Dave had never felt so connected to or felt free to be so open with anyone, not his friends, certainly not his bro. He was afraid he would never feel like he truly deserved the right to call John his, yet John had given him that right, happily. Dave sank further and further into these thoughts, a warm feeling radiating through his body for which there existed no adequate descriptive word. The word 'love' came close enough, perhaps.
He finally did pause in his photography, absentmindedly, gazing at John over the camera with far too much feeling for a professional photographing some random model. John paused also in his pose, kneeling, one hand on his hip and the other pressed against the back of his head, which was tilted slightly to the side. His face grew flushed as Dave continued to stare at him, his eyes filled with so much emotion, yet he also appeared to be almost looking through his boyfriend, lost in a world of his own. This struck John as an odd moment to drift into some kind of reverie. "Uh... Dave?" he asked hesitantly. All of the laughter John had forced back earlier seemed to come poring forward again all at once, the dam breaking, when Dave snapped back into the present at the sound of his name, eyes widening and mouth falling slightly open, a blush spreading across his cheeks, totally breaking character. "Oh! Oh... My apologies, sir! How about taking off that shirt now?" he said in a rush, speaking both too fast and too loud to maintain a semblance of professionalism.
This was all too much for John. Dave The Photographer had crumbled right before his eyes, going from seductive and suave to flushed and flustered in thirty seconds flat, and John The Model crumbled just as quickly under the sheer humor of the situation. "God, Dave, you... you were doing perfect and then... what even happened... you should see... your face right now... oh my God, stop..." John struggled to get any words out clearly enough for Dave to understand him, laughing so hard it was approaching painful, eventually crumpling forward and curling up on his side, clutching his stomach as the laughter continued to pour out of him in wave after wave. The emotion slowly drained out of Dave's face although the blush just grew deeper and deeper, "Fuck, I ruined it!" he finally complained just as John's fit of laughter started to end, sending him into another one. "Stop it... Dave... it hurts..." John gasped, tears beginning to stream down his face. Dave rolled his eyes with a smile, climbing onto the bed next to John and ruffling his hair, which was actually free of hairspray, then leaning down to kiss his tears away. "Alright, alright, I'll try to stop being so lame enough for you to catch your breath. Wow, like that pun? I actually don't know if it's possible to stop being lame now. I think you're contagious. I'll probably never be awesome again."
John lay in Dave's arms catching his breath for the next several minutes, his laughter fading away a little at a time until finally, he remained motionless for a full ten seconds before loudly hiccuping. "Dave!" he groaned, "Look what you did to me!" he hiccuped again. Dave smiled sweetly down at him. "Oh, I do believe you were the one mocking me, actually! I think you can deal with the consequences!" He playfully nipped at John's nose. John laughed again, only for a moment this time before being interrupted by a particularly loud hiccup. "You really are the lamest, Dave!" "Oh, what is that I hear? My precious boyfriend needs a little more laughter in his life? Well, John, all you had to do is ask! You know I aim to please!" Dave climbed on top of John as he spoke, straddling him, and let his hands slowly drift to his sides, which Dave happened to know were particularly ticklish. "Nooo!" John tried to push his hands away, already beginning to laugh. Dave ignored his protests and began gently tickling him, pausing when he began gasping for air again after a mere thirty seconds. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" John cried quickly after catching his breath again, just as Dave had begun to continue his tickling. "Oh, what was that, love?" Dave asked teasingly.
John smiled weakly up at his boyfriend. "I'm sorry, I actually meant to say that you're the coolest. I don't know how I got mixed up like that!" Dave laughed and rolled off of John, pulling him close. "I love you, you know." John gave him the sweetest smile he could muster. "Yeah, I know!" They both dissolved into laughter, John's ending first. He planted a trail of kisses up Dave's neck. "I love you too, you know."