Work Text:
“A little more to the left, please.”
“Like this?”
Draken keeps his hands steady on his camera, eyes on the subject.
Tussled shoulder length black hair, half-tied so the rest of it tickles the neck, a slender body wrapped in white, and mesmerizing eyes of blue. The model is sitting upright with his legs tucked under him, looking straight into the camera with his bright ocean eyes. Despite the blankness of his face, those eyes spoke a thousand words.
Draken feels his breath caught in his throat. It has been months but he’s still caught off guard every time he sees him. Beautiful. Entrancing. Captivating. A perfect subject to immortalize through lenses and displayed for thousands of people to see.
A perfect muse.
Snap!
Φ
The skating park is a massive thing, even when it’s divided into two parts, one side flat and the other one filled with obstacles and bowls. Being amateurs, both Draken and Inui opted for the flatter side of the park.
It’s late in the afternoon, the sun casting long shadows upon the ground. It’s unsurprising that the skate park is almost entirely deserted. On this side, there’s only the two of them. The other side looks a little merrier. He can see a group of kids surrounding one of the bowls.
“Just for half an hour,” Inupi says to him.
Draken sighs and gets on his feet. He tests the skates under his feet before he rolls away.
School has been terrible for him lately. It’s not that he can’t keep up with the workload and the classes, but the thing that has been weighing on his mind might render all his hard work useless if he can’t find a solution. It’s been hard for him, so here he is, skating for some peace of mind before he goes back to weeping over the nonexistent progress of his final year project.
All he needs is just one thing. One spark of an idea. One burst of inspiration.
Inupi catches up to him in no time.
“Koko told me there’s someone he needs to introduce to you.”
This again.
“I’m not going to see anyone. I got a lot of things going on.”
“It’s not Koko who wants to though. The guy asked him.”
Draken sighs and makes a turn. “I don’t have time to go on a blind date.”
Inupi hums. “I’ve seen him. Pretty. Popular. A year below us.”
No wonder he has time to go around asking to be introduced.
“I’m not interested,” he says with finality and skates away, leaving Inupi in the dust.
The other side is getting louder. Draken lifts his head up for a glance as he’s taking off his skates. It sounds like they’re watching a great show. Inupi catches his glance and smiles.
“Do you want to take a look?”
They go to take a look.
There’s only one person skating in the bowl. Lithe body decked up in safety gears gliding around in a black skateboard like he weighs less than a feather. From here, Draken can see his dark hair and a glimpse of bright eyes. He must be around Draken’s age. Maybe younger.
Effortless flips, perfectly executed each time. If Draken were more into this sport, he could probably name them. Alas, his words fell short to describe how masterful this person must be with his board, the way he makes it look like it’s an extension of himself rather than a separate entity.
“He’s good,” he whispers to Inupi.
Inupi chuckles. “He is, isn’t he?”
He seems to be building momentum, skating around the wall and getting higher each time. Draken wonders what he’s trying to do.
When he sees it, his breath is taken away.
A wingless angel. That’s what the skater looks like as he takes to the sky and twists in the air like he was made to fly. He comes back to the ground and does the exact same maneuver on the other side of the bowl, little less higher, but no less breathtaking.
“Wow,” he says over the thunderous cheers of the kids and Inupi’s claps. Unconsciously, his feet are moving to take him closer to the edge of the bowl.
He gets too close, because suddenly his angel is flying towards him. He hears the scream before the impact knocks him off his feet.
Φ
Inupi is still muffling his snickers every time he looks at Draken’s swollen nose, five minutes later. Draken wants to kick him, but he can’t. Because the angel is fretting over him and Draken does not want to move so he can appreciate that face up close.
“I’m so sorry,” Angel says as he hands over the cold pack he said he carries around in his bag. Draken grunts and slaps the damn thing on his face. He groans.
His angel winces.
“I’m Inui,” Inupi says, thrusting his hand out for a shake.
Slender hand reaches out to take Inupi’s. Draken is helpless against the need to follow it with his eyes. It’s a pretty hand. Smooth. Unblemished. The kind of hand models spend thousands to maintain. He almost missed the introduction.
“Hanagaki. You can call me Takemichi, though.”
Inupi smiles, something knowing and raising Draken’s heckles. “Takemichi, then. Grumpy over there is Draken. Don’t worry. He’s not usually like that.”
Draken belatedly takes the hand offered to him, shakes it once before he goes back to nursing his bruised nose.
He’s so pretty, Draken feels tongue tied just by being in his presence. When he steals a glance, he can feel the thump thump inside his suddenly too tight chest. Heart shaped face. Framed perfectly by loose dark hair from his half bun. Soft looking lips moving animatedly as he talks.
At Draken.
“What?” he stupidly asks.
Behind their new acquaintance, he sees Inupi covering his face with his hand.
Takemichi laughs nervously. “I asked, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?”
Draken apparently hasn’t filled his quota of being an asshole for the day, because instead of waving that question away and telling Takemichi that it’s fine, it’s no big deal, he stares at him for a long time as his mind tries to come up with an answer.
When it clicks inside his head, he cannot stop himself.
“Do you want to be my model?”
Φ
“You really just did that.”
Draken groans. “Leave me alone.”
“No, no, it’s actually a good move. It’s such a lucky coincidence that he goes to our college. Also, weren’t you the one who said he has no time to date?”
He throws a pillow at Inupi. The man catches it in and throws it back at him, hitting him perfectly in the face. Draken lets it stay there, groaning again. “It’s for work.”
It has nothing to do with the fact that he thinks Takemichi looks pretty when he laughs.
Φ
Hanagaki Takemichi, if possible, looks even prettier than yesterday.
Draken’s greeting is stuck inside his throat, unblinking eyes staring as Hanagaki Takemichi sits down and apologizes for being late. His smile is so charming.
He hears himself saying something that makes Takemichi blush. He’s wearing a dirty green sweater with a deep neckline over a black turtleneck. His hair is free today, the shorter end tickling his perfect heart shaped face. It looks good, in an intentionally messy way.
And those eyes. God. Draken dreamed of them last night.
He looks so perfectly put together Draken is beginning to feel self-conscious in his simple v-neck and unwashed jeans. The tattoo sleeve probably isn’t helping. It’s lucky that he’s decided to put his hair down for today so the dragon on his temple is hidden. Beside him, Draken looks like he’s fresh out of a reformation center. They must make a funny sight. Draken, a hulking man in tattoos. Takemichi, pretty and small.
He clears his throat. “I think we didn’t make the best impression of each other yesterday. I’m Ryuuguji Ken. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He bows.
Takemichi returns the bow. When he comes back up, his lips are curved into a perfect smile. “Hanagaki Takemichi, but you already know that. I’m sorry about your nose. I’m so glad you agreed to see me today.”
Draken should be the one saying that, but he’s already feeling tongue-tied again. He nods briskly and buries his face into the menu leaflet.
He doesn't see how Takemichi’s face falls.
Over their coffee and the slice of cake Takemichi ordered, Draken gets straight into business. Someone like Takemichi has places to be, after all.
“As I told you yesterday, I’m a photography major and I do freelancing on the side. For my final year project, we’re having an exhibition. That’s where you come in. I’d like you to be my model.”
Takemichi nods, wide eyed and looking impressed.
Draken clears his throat and continues. “If it’s okay with you, we can take some pictures after this. I want to see what I’m working with. And as I promised, I’ll pay you - “
Takemichi chokes on his cake. Draken watches him with concern as he drinks his coffee to wash down whatever it was that was stuck.
“Are you alright?”
“I’m fine!” Takemichi answers with an unnaturally wide grin. “Let’s just… not talk about payment for now. I’m fine with whatever. We can talk about it once everything’s done, alright? Now, what were you saying?”
Φ
Since he is an idiot, they ended up at his studio. Takemichi lets out an audible awed sound as he steps into the room.
“I had no idea there were underground rooms like this,” he says, swiveling around to give his host an earnest grin.
By the door, Draken is still trying to put himself together. What was he thinking by inviting Takemichi here? The ride here on his bike was detrimental to his already crumbling self-control. Now Takemichi looks like somebody who belongs in his studio. Fuck. This is bad.
He totally has a crush.
“It used to be a storage room of some sorts. I managed to convince them to let me rent it.”
Takemichi makes an impressed noise. He hasn’t stopped looking around at the equipment and the tools. It’s a spacious room, with a more homey vibe than what one would expect. There’s even a lounging space with bean bags and the coffee table beside the door. And then Takemichi sees the board of pictures. It feels weirdly like baring himself as he lets Takemichi approach and take in the pieces.
“Are these all yours?”
They are. He tells Takemichi so.
He leaves him to admire the pictures. He takes a stool, positioning it in the middle of the rolled out seamless paper in the back of the room. Then he sets up the lights and black cardboard sheets around it.
“I’ll be taking portrait pictures of you today. Nothing fancy. Why don’t you take a seat?”
Takemichi leaves his bag on the floor and takes a seat.
He expected he would have to coach Takemichi through this session. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Takemichi is a natural in front of the camera. His body line is perfect and relaxed as he leans back. He seems to understand what to do with his hands and eyes. Draken only needs to press the camera.
He licks his lips. “You’re good at this. Have some experience?”
Takemichi smiles. Draken snaps a picture of that perfect curve. “I did some photo shoot before. After the disastrous first time, I thought it’d be good for me in the long run to actually practice.”
“What kind of photo shoot?”
Takemichi crosses his legs and folds his hands over his lap. “Magazines. Promotion. I’m a pro skater so sometimes I get brand deals. Sports magazines are less fussy.”
That explains all the prettiness.
Draken coughs at his own thoughts. Takemichi raises an eyebrow at him, his lips still curving up into a smile.
“Nothing. It’s just that. I’m surprised. I thought I would have heard of someone like you sooner.”
“Why?” Takemichi rests his jaw on his open palm, leaning forward. He looks good like that too.
Snap!
“Are you sure you haven’t heard of me?”
Snap!
“Pretty sure.”
A twinkling laugh. Bright eyes.
Snap!
“Maybe we’ve crossed paths before. Maybe you’ve heard of me from your friends. Maybe you’ve seen me somewhere. A magazine. A billboard.”
“I’m sure I wouldn’t forget if I’ve seen you before.”
Snap!
Through his lens, he sees the slack jawed, the small widening of Takemichi’s eyes. It’s such an honest expression that he captured it without a second thought. Once the implication of his words caught up to him, he finally looks up to meet those blue eyes without the barrier of the lens of his camera.
Takemichi looks away. A little blush on his cheeks catching Draken off guard in return.
Ah. What the hell. It’s not just him, is it? He’s definitely not reading this wrong.
He can think of this later. He has a job to do.
Φ
The pictures came out beautifully, as expected. He’s scrolling through them on his laptop that night. It takes a significant amount of coaching himself to stop admiring and start thinking.
Takemichi is beautiful. There’s nothing left wanting there. His postures are elegant. His legs and hands in perfect harmony, balanced. He could fit in any backdrop. However, beauty should not be an accessory. It should be the subject. The one to be accessorized.
Draken leans in, fingers over his lips.
People wouldn’t stop and stare for a pretty face only. They want a focus. A point.
Well, if that’s the case, his answer is already right here in front of him, isn’t it?
He touches the screen, right on the blue hue.
Φ
They meet up at the skate park again, a week later. The sun is dipping down close to the horizon, just like the first time they met.
“So I’ll just do whatever?” Takemichi asks this a little doubtfully.
Draken grins and brings up his camera. “Don’t worry. My baby can capture an exploding soda can.” Literally. Mikey’s an idiot but Draken has to thank him for that one.
Takemichi snorts as he adjusts the pads on his elbows. “That’s not what I’m saying. Why don’t you tell me what exactly you want to see?”
Truthfully, Takemichi could just lounge around on his skateboard and Draken will still get pretty shots of him, but he’s not about to tell him that because 1. That’s creepy. 2. He actually needs to take this seriously. His grade hinges on this and he cannot let a moment’s infatuation ruin his future. Not much. Just a little.
“Can you do that thing? That thing where you fly?”
Fly. He’s so stupid.
“Fly?” Takemichi repeats. “Oh, you mean airs?”
Draken smiles. “Yes.” He hopes it’s the flying.
“Gotcha.” Takemichi skates down the bowl with a grin.
Seeing him in his element is as breathtaking as before. Draken doesn’t think he’s ever seen as someone as in love as Takemichi is when he’s with his skateboard. Every time he snaps a picture, there’s always a concentrated look on Takemichi’s face and a small upward quirk at the corner of his lips.
A little warm up is all Takemichi needed. He waves at Draken, gives him a blinding grin, and flies.
Snap!
Φ
It gets easier between them, after that.
“I’m saying,” Draken says over Takemichi’s giggle, eyes firmly on the screen in front of them and periodically avoiding the popcorn thrown at him. They’re lucky there’s nobody else in the cinema. “We could go to a zoo and - stop laughing!”
“I’m not taking pictures with a peacock!” Takemichi screeches gleefully.
“Parrots!”
Φ
It is a crush. A massive, gigantic crush. It’s mortifying. There’s no going back.
He accepts this realization on a Sunday morning during brunch with the subject of his project. Takemichi is drowning in an oversized beige plaid shirt over a white top, his feet playfully knocking back against Draken’s like he’s twelve. If Draken were less infatuated, he never would have even dreamed of entertaining this, but he is, so he does.
Even if he feels endlessly fond like he’s about to burst from the warmth bubbling up inside his chest.
“We’ll be doing some real photo shoot sometime this week,” he tells him.
Takemichi hums and shovels more of the sugary treat into his mouth. Draken wants to take a tissue and wipe that little smudge on his lip.
“I was thinking of going to a pool.”
The sparkles in Takemichi’s eyes and his following exclamation of excitement make Draken pats himself in the back for a job well done.
Φ
The concept is simple. Underwater photo shoot is cliche, overdone, and probably isn’t as good of an idea as Draken thought it was at two in the morning when he’d been drowning in coffee and all he could think of was the blue of Hanagaki Takemichi’s eyes.
Is he regretting it? Not really.
Because that’s a damn tattoo on Takemichi’s back. What the fuck.
Takemichi sees him looking. Of course he does. Draken has been gawking like an idiot since they got into the water.
“What?”
“You have a tattoo,” Draken says stiffly.
It’s visible through the wet white shirt. A pillar of flowers and hummingbirds. It starts from the bottom of his spine and gets more crowded little by little as it goes up, stopping right between his shoulder blades. When Takemichi rises from the water, the lines of his back muscles from skating, accentuated by the tattoo, is a work of art.
Wow.
Takemichi grins with pride. “I got it for my first championship when I was nineteen. A friend helped me out with the design.”
Draken is helpless. He reaches out to touch, stopping right before his hand makes contact.
“You want to touch?” Takemichi asks. There’s a little redness on the apple of his cheeks that Draken has grown accustomed to.
He swallows. “Is that okay?”
Right there and then, what remains of his self-control is blown to smithereens when Takemichi reaches for the bottom of his shirt and exposes his naked back to Draken. So trusting.
His hands are big and clumsy. On Takemichi’s back, they must feel rough too. He traces the ink with his feather light touches, feels the little rise of skin under his fingers. Takemichi’s muscles ripple, like he can’t help it.
It takes a while for him to say what he wants to say. “It’s beautiful.”
Takemichi laughs under his breath. “It is.”
Draken wonders if he knows it’s not the tattoo he’s talking about, not entirely.
Φ
Inupi brings it up during breakfast one morning. It’s been three months since the skate park.
“You’re looking happier lately.”
Draken doesn’t think he does. He knows he does. He shoves a mouthful of rice into his mouth and hums vaguely. Inupi stares at him for a minute or two before he goes back to his miso soup.
“Don’t forget to do your laundry, lover boy. Wouldn’t want your new boyfriend to see dirty clothes all over the floor.”
“Shut up!”
Φ
His collection grows.
They have done eight photo shoots in total, including that first time. Draken’s in his studio pouring over them. It’s eight in the evening and his stomach is grumbling. On his laptop screen, he has a spread of the best shot from each session.
He wonders if he can get a bigger spot for the exhibition, because he will need one section per session. There’s a story to be told in these pictures. Putting out only one of them will be like throwing a single puzzle piece into the crowd. It would be such a shame if such potential is to be lost.
“What’s got you looking like that?”
He swivels his chair around to see Takemichi closing the door behind him. He has a big plastic bag in one hand, which he raises with a grin.
They clear the coffee table and have dinner like that, under the warm glow of his studio, with the soft music playing through the speakers, and Takemichi. Draken doesn’t think he’ll ever want more than this.
Takemichi is a constant company, nowadays. He even has a spare key to the studio, given by Draken a couple weeks ago. He uses it to visit him whenever he wants. Draken doesn’t know how it ended up like this, but he can’t say he would have had it any other way. Especially when Takemichi is smiling at him like that.
“So, how is it coming along?” Takemichi means the project.
He hums, wrapping the last of their trash and throws it inside the trash can. “Good. I was just wondering if I should ask my adviser for a bigger spot later.”
“Oh? Why?”
He thinks about it, if he should tell him or not. Ah. What the hell. What does he have to lose? “I think the world deserves to see every piece I have. I want them to see what I see.”
Takemichi blinks at him as he folds his knees to his chest and lies sideways on one of the bean bags, looking so inviting and cuddly in his big blue sweater. “What do you mean?”
Draken knows his attraction is not one-sided. He would have felt bad for not acting sooner, but he thought Takemichi’s infatuation would pass once he got to know him. And he had meant this to be a professional relationship only. It’s been three months, however, and it seems like none of them are going anywhere. Not anytime soon. Not their feelings. Not themselves.
The playlist has long since switched into one of his slower ones. The kind that he plays when it’s rainy outside and he has a cup of coffee and a project to be obsessed over. It’s not raining outside, there’s no coffee in hand, but Takemichi is here.
He approaches him and extends a hand out. Takemichi gives him a curious glance before he takes his hand. It’s so easy to pull him to stand up and lead him to the middle of the room. He guides Takemichi’s left hand to rest on his shoulder, taking the other in his own, and takes the first step.
“Why are we dancing?” his partner asks even as he tries to follow Draken. He always seems so graceful on his beloved skateboard. Right now, he’s like a bumbling fawn. Draken is no better, but well, no better teacher than two fools together.
“When I first met you, I called you an angel in my head.”
Takemichi looks up at him with his startled doe eyes. Their height difference never fails to make Draken smile. “You were flying. I thought I was looking at an angel. Of course, right before you hit my on the nose.”
Ah. There’s the blush. He always gets red easily. Draken leans in to touch one of those red cheeks with his nose. “I don’t think you realize how much I’ve been holding back since we first met. I was waiting for you to call this whole thing off.”
“I like you!”
He stops their dance, pulls away to look at the flustered Takemichi, who immediately buries his face into Draken’s chest to hide.
“Takemichi?” he calls softly.
“I like you,” Takemichi says. He sounds nervous as hell and his hands are shaking like leaves. “I’ve liked you for a long time. Before we even met at the park.”
Carefully, he asks, “What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen you around,” Takemichi replies. “I thought, oh , that’s the most handsome man I’ve ever seen. I’ve seen you hanging around Koko’s friend so I thought that’s my chance. I asked him to introduce me to you.”
Faintly, Draken remembers that conversation. Is that why Inupi keeps laughing and poking fun at him?
The song has changed. Something even slower. Draken rests his cheek on Takemichi’s temple, feels his nervousness and kisses it away. “I thought I’d have you for a month, at most.”
Takemichi giggles, his nervousness has slipped away for something softer. Something more confident when Draken doesn’t immediately turn him away. “When my friends heard I was modeling for free for you, they thought I was going crazy.”
Draken snorts. “Who said it’s for free? I’m still paying you, remember?”
Finally, Takemichi extracts himself to look up at him. He’s always been so pretty, but Draken thinks this is the prettiest he’s ever been. Here, in his arms.
“What does this mean for us?”
He kisses the hand in his grasp, meets Takemichi’s gaze, and says, “It’s been a long time coming, but will you be my boyfriend?”
Φ
Later, they will meet their friends as a couple at one of the get-together that Draken used to avoid like it’s a plague since the beginning of his senior year.
Takemichi, as it turns out, has grown to be very popular among his group of friends that when they turned up together, Draken’s arm around his shoulders, their first reaction was not to welcome Draken who’s been skipping the gathering for months, but to cheer and congratulate Takemichi on his conquest. Bastards. Whatever. Takemichi looks so happy that he’s glowing, and when Draken kisses him, he flips off the whistling bastards. Busybodies.
Φ
Later, much later, there will be an exhibition and the biggest section dedicated to a certain model will be the talk of the guests. The centerpiece is a larger than life black and white picture of a naked, kneeling man with a flower and hummingbird tattoo on his spine. His turned head reveals the only splotch of color on the piece; blue.
When the photographer is asked the inspiration behind his project, Ocean Eyes , he will laugh, point to to the model and answer:
“Him.”
Fin