Archive of Our Own

Shane stares up at the building with a little bit of trepidation, double-checking the details on his phone before exhaling a sharp breath, gathering his courage and walking through the front doors to reception.

He’s signed in and directed easily up to the fifth floor, where he’s greeted by the photographer and the stylist for today’s shoots.

“Shane?” the photographer - Shannon, a slight woman in her late forties or so maybe, with a jet-black bob of hair and kind green eyes - asks him and he nods, shakes her hand. “It’s lovely to meet you. This is your first shoot for covers, Farah said?”

He nods again, hopes his nerves aren’t showing through too badly, but Shannon simply smiles warmly at him and claps a hand on his bicep.

“Don’t you worry,” she reassures him, “Edie and I have been doing this for donkey's years, you’re in good hands.”

Shane thanks her as Edie comes over to introduce herself, a tiny slip of a woman with long blond hair looped up in a messy bun and a cigarette tucked behind one ear.

She shows him through to the changing room, where a variety of outfits hang from the rails lining the walls. 

“Farah told you what to expect?” she asks, as she points to the first outfit laid out over a chair for him to change into.

He confirms yes, and she nods in satisfaction and leaves him to change. He’s not lied, Farah had outlined the expectations of the job and what today would look like, but he’s pretty sure that the reality won’t quite match his imagination - but he’s still so new to this he’s not sure what really to expect anyway.

He’d signed on with Farah only a month or so ago, after she’d approached him as he was on a run in the park and asked if he’d ever had any interest in acting or modelling. Confused (and a little flattered) he’d answered in the negative, but had taken her card and browsed through her website that evening, a weird temptation and interest growing with every click through to a new page.

It’s been just over five years since he’d become a personal trainer after university, having been unable to go into professional hockey due to a bad wrist injury in his mid-teens. He’s got a few core clients that pay his bills and has a few more as the seasons come and go. He makes a good living, has enough set aside for emergencies and a nice holiday or two a year, but even he can feel he’s sliding into rut-adjacent territory and so Farah’s offer came at the perfect time.

So here he is. At his first ever photo shoot. Posing for covers of romance novels. Not just hetero-romantic ones either, but Farah had asked how willing he’d be to pose with other men and he’d said that he’d be fine with it. He’s been out since university, though it’s been a couple of years since he’d had anything past a second date, and he finds it too awkward to meet anyone on the apps so he’s just resigning himself a bit to being lonely for a while longer.

But it’s fine. It is. He’s trying something new, he’s pushing himself out of his comfort zone and it’ll be good. It will. It has to be.

“Shane, this is Beth,” Shannon says as he steps back into the studio, now dressed in the billowing trousers, white linen shirt and the calf-high fake-leather boots he’d been given and feeling absolutely ridiculous.

Shane greets the new joiner, a gorgeous woman about his age, with silky brown curls down to her shoulderblades over a black form-fitting t-shirt and leggings.

She smiles as she returns the “hello”, but is quickly ushered by Edie into the other changing room on the other side of the studio. As she disappears behind the door, Edie turns to him and shakes her head, sighing softly and he worries that he’s already fucking up.

“Come, sit,” she points at a table tucked away in the corner, an array of makeup brushes and other implements Shane doesn’t understand splayed out across the surface.

“You’re okay if I touch you?” she asks as he perches on the stool obediently and waits, watching as she rifles through the various pots and tubes on the table.

Shane assures her he is, but regardless she telegraphs her movements, murmurs each time she’s about to touch him somewhere new, makes sure he’s comfortable each time. He hadn’t expected this kind of atmosphere - it’s much closer to comfortable than he’d thought it might be.

As she works his eyes drift, scans over the wall of books to his left which he hadn’t really properly noticed before. It crosses the entire room, hundreds of books neatly lined up though Shane’s too far to see if there’s any sort of organisational system without his glasses.

“Those are all ours,” Edie tells him as she dabs powders onto a brush. “Like Shan mentioned, we’ve been doing this a while.”

“It’s impressive,” Shane says honestly. “Have you read many of them?”

Edie snorts a laugh, tilts his chin up with one gentle finger. “They’re not quite my thing,” she admits, “Shannon loves them though. She’ll give you a long list of her favourites, if you’re interested.”

Shane smiles, “I’m more of a non-fiction guy,” he tells her, and she smiles back at him as she tips his face slightly to the left. 

He’s brushed lightly with make-up, though Edie says he’s got ‘good skin’ so it’s mostly to make sure he doesn’t come out too shiny under the camera. Shannon huffs in the background as she wrestles with a couple of boxes she’s shoving in front of the green screen.

Edie unbuttons the shirt down to the navel after checking he doesn’t mind, and Shane flushes a little as she nods in approval as she tugs it back to expose his chest. It doesn’t feel sleazy or anything, though, just simple appreciation - and Shane’s just glad he’s meeting the standard, more than anything.

“You’d only booked for two covers, right? The pirate one with Beth and then the queer regency one this afternoon?”

Shane nods, and Shannon leaves the boxes to saunter over at Edie’s quiet call. They confer for a second, Shannon taking him in with a discerning eye, but she nods in agreement at whatever conclusion they come to.

“We’ve got a couple more shots you could be in that we can easily squeeze in today, if you wanted,” she says casually, and at Edie’s nod Shane follows her over to a desk with a monitor and laptop hooked up to it. She shows him a couple of the requests they’ve got in the works - one where he’d be shirtless solo, on the cover of a paranormal romance, and another where he’d be shirtless again with the male model he’s also booked in to work with for a Regency romance cover just before lunch - if he wanted. 

It’s not a hard decision, really, even as Shannon runs through the terms and conditions and pay - all in-line with what he’d already agreed for the other shoots - and, well, Shane won’t say no to double the money for an extra couple of hours work, so he agrees.

By the time he’s signed the agreements and forwarded the details to Farah for her reference, Beth’s sat in Edie’s chair as the stylist polishes her off, the fellow model now dressed in a dark red dress with off-shoulder straps around her biceps, skirt wide and flowing around her hips down onto the floor.

Edie’s efficient, and before he knows it Beth’s been released, and is stepping over towards the staged area.

Shannon grunts as she shoves a large box and Shane steps in, pushes it across the floor to where she indicates, to get a “thank you” and appraising look from the photographer.

“Okay, Beth, this here is Shane’s first shoot,” Shannon tells his new coworker as they both take a stand where indicated. “So be nice.”

“I’m always nice!” Beth protests with a laugh, but she turns to Shane and promises he’s got nothing to worry about. Somehow he believes her.

They’re given the outline of the story to start with, though it’s the barest bones - Shannon explains that they used to get a more fleshed out version back in the day, but they’ve gotten pretty good at picking up the key things from the increasingly slimmed-down highlights - and Shannon describes the key poses they’ll be attempting and the context behind them.

Their shoot together is a little awkward to start with, Shane not sure exactly where to put his hands or how to pose. But Shannon, Edie and Beth are all kind to him; they offer hints and tips, show him how to cheat his face towards the camera, how to tense his brow slightly to show intent. He’s asked to show a little more passion, which he struggles a little with given, well, Beth’s a she, but he does his best and the others seem content as he follows their advice and they continue with the shoot.

He gets closer to Beth than he’s been to almost any other woman as they move through the poses; she leans up against his front, her head on his chest; he dips her like in the movies, the tips of her hair practically brushing the floor; she perches on the edge of the box as if it’s some kind of rock, him kneeling between her legs as her head tips back.

Forty-five minutes later and the shoot comes to an end. He thanks Beth sincerely for her help, and she offers him a quick hug before she changes back into her own clothing and leaves, and Edie comes over with a mug of coffee for him.

“Okay, so we’ve got an hour before Ilya - the model you’ll be posing with later - is due. You okay to just let us get some topless shots we can use for one of these covers?”

Shane nods, and fully strips out of the shirt when requested, draping it neatly on the nearby chair in lieu of a hanger. Edie adjusts the lights as Shannon returns to her camera, and the next thirty minutes are much easier than the posing with Beth, as he’s directed to just stand around and flex - they won’t even use his face, most likely, just from his jawline down to his waistband.

Just as they come to a close there’s a buzz up from reception and a few minutes after that the studio door is opening and Shane feels his mouth go dry.

He’s ridiculously attractive. Just as tall as Shane, clearly muscular even under a soft grey sweatshirt and tracksuit pants, with soft dark gold curls delicately brushing his ears. He’s carrying a tray of three cups in one hand, a duffle bag slung over the other shoulder, and practically oozes a kind of confidence that’s more attractive than it has any right to be.

“Ilya!” Shannon greets the newcomer warmly, as she and Edie both step over, accepting quick hugs and one of the cups each. “Come, meet Shane,” she gestures over to where Shane’s hovering at the edge of the staged area, and Shane takes an awkward step forward as hazel eyes land on his and his breath catches.

“Nice to meet you,” Shane offers a hand, smiles back as a wide grin greets him but he’s not sure his smile is half as warm even though he tries - the sheer beauty of Ilya has his brain ticking over slower than usual and he’s not sure exactly what his face is doing.

“And you,” Ilya practically purrs, and Shane flushes as pretty hazel eyes scan up and down his bare torso. “I am sorry I did not bring you coffee too, I did not know your order.”

“C’mon boys,” Edie interrupts and Shane flushes deeper as he realises their hands are still clasped. She takes them both into the changing room and points out their next outfits: regency-accurate suits. “You okay to share the room?”

They both nod, glancing briefly at each other but Shane’s used to sharing locker rooms with other men at the gym, has long since perfected the art of averting his eyes without being too obvious about it.

He pulls the shirt on first anyway, as Ilya drops his bag on the side and lifts his own costume from the rack, drapes it over a chair on the other side of the room. Shane tries not to watch as Ilya strips, tosses his clothes in a pile on top of his bag that Shane’s fingers itch to rectify and neaten. 

“You are new to this?” Ilya asks, breaking the silence.

“It’s that obvious?” Shane replies, chagrined.

“Not obvious,” Ilya shakes his head, “I have been doing this for long time, is all, so know many of the usual models, and I would remember you.”

Shane flushes again at the implied compliment, as he tugs the jacket over his shoulders. He knows they’d had his measurements beforehand, but it fits even better than he’d expected, though is ever so slightly snug on the sleeves.

“This is my first shoot,” he admits, and at Ilya’s follow-up question about how it’s going he tells him he thinks it’s going well, though he doesn’t know how the final pictures will turn out.

“Ah, do not worry about that,” Ilya offers a lazy grin as he turns, shrugging on his own jacket. “Photoshop works magic these days. These covers, too, I think will become less popular; many romance novels are using cartoons and drawings instead now. But is nice to still have this kind of work, while it lasts.”

“You said you’ve been doing this for a long time?”

Ilya nods again, tells him he’s been doing this for three or four years now. He’d initially moved to the U.S. as a model (and that doesn’t surprise Shane in the slightest), and had travelled over and liked Canada, so had picked up more steady work here, and this type of shoot had become just a fun little side gig on top of his other modelling gigs. 

“But Shannon and Edie are best in business,” he confides, as he wraps a tie around his neck and loops the fabric around with deft fingers until it’s a neat bow-tie. “We are in very safe hands with them.”

Shane fiddles with his own tie, but he’s not used to putting them on without a mirror and he feels like it’s not quite right but can’t quite fix it.

“Here,” Ilya steps in close, the soft scent of his aftershave filling Shane’s nostrils. “Want help?”

Shane swallows but tips his chin up to give Ilya access, and those deft fingers reach for the end of his own tie. Ilya’s close enough that Shane can smell whatever shampoo he’s used, the heat of him like a light blanket across Shane’s front and he wants to lean in, tuck his face into the crook of his neck and breathe in. The thought scares him a little - he’s never felt so drawn into the personal space of someone he’s only just met - so he holds himself still and waits, watches Ilya’s jaw as he arranges the silk into a neat knot and leaves Shane to tuck the end into his waistcoat. 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, and hazel eyes are too easy to fall into as Ilya smiles gently at him.

“You are welcome,” Ilya replies, and before Shane can say anything else he turns on his heel and leads the way out of the room. Shane can’t help the way his eyes drop down, following the line of Ilya’s torso outlined to perfection in the costume coat, the way it emphasises his tiny waist and broad shoulders.

He swallows, but follows back into the room where Shannon and Edie are waiting. Ilya’s taken over to Edie’s chair first and Shane helps Shannon shift a few of the boxes out of the way again. She leads him around the back of the green screen where there’s a load more space, full of bits and pieces and furniture.

“Think you can move that with me?” she asks, pointing at a chaise longue. Shane nods, and lifts up the heavier end as Shannon goes to the other side and they shuffle back through the narrow space and to the open studio space.

Shannon thanks him as they set it down where she wants it, and Ilya’s released pretty quickly from Edie’s corner. Shane’s called over and he sits again as Edie touches up his face, slicks a thin layer of gel over her hands and pushes his hair into a different style.

“Perfect,” she nods, cleaning her hands with a wet wipe as she gestures for him to go back over to Shannon.

He takes his spot next to Ilya and they’re given the outline of the book as before and how Shannon wants to have them reflect the characters. Shane’s heart thumps heavy in his chest, he feels both more relaxed knowing what’s expected of him, and more anxious because the way his entire consciousness keeps drifting across to Ilya doesn’t bode well for his concentration.

But Ilya’s just as professional as Beth was, even as they turn to each other, one of Shane’s hands resting on an impressive chest through the soft silk of his shirt, one of Ilya’s hands bracing his lower back, fingertips pressing in in a way that has Shane almost wanting to lean back, see if he’d take some of his weight or touch him more.

“That’s perfect, guys,” Shannon murmurs softly as the click-click of the camera shutter sounds in the background. “Can you shuffle a little closer? Shane, if you can just tilt your shoulder down and towards me a little- yes, right there.”

God, but Ilya smells so good. The soft coconut of his shampoo, whatever detergent they’ve used for the costumes, even the faintest of coffee on his breath, all of it has Shane wanting to get a little closer.

They shoot a few more poses, another couple standing before Shane’s directed to sit on the chaise longue, staring up at Ilya who looms over him, one hand heavy on his shoulder as they gaze at each other with “longing, please, like you’re long-lost, reunited lovers”. 

Shane has less acting to do here than he’d probably like. He tries to hide the depth of his curiosity about Ilya, but he’s pretty sure the attraction he feels as his gaze traces Ilya’s sharp cheekbones and the plush lower lip he wants to bite is more than obvious to anyone with eyes. 

He’s not entirely sure whether Ilya’s just that good of an actor, or whether he might feel the same - his eyes are dark and a little wanting as he looks at Shane, making his throat go dry as his breath catches in his chest.

Just as he thinks he’s going to have to look away, Shannon asks Ilya to join Shane on the loveseat. Shane scoots over so Ilya can slide in between him and the arm, and follows Shannon’s direction as he turns, leans sideways so his head rests on Ilya’s chest where he slouches into the cushions, Ilya’s arm over his shoulder and down his chest.

There’s a few more photos there as they shift minutely, and Edie comes over to adjust clothing and hair. She asks him if he’d be willing to have Ilya touch his bare chest and he agrees, hopes Ilya can’t feel how quick his heart is thrumming at the idea of it. 

She removes his jacket and tie, unbuttons his shirt and tugs it open, the tails still barely tucked into the trouser waistband. He leans back again, tilts his head back at Shannon’s request to look up at Ilya as one warm hand slides inside his open shirt, electricity sparking as his fingertips trail across Shane’s bare skin until his palm stops and flattens above his heart.

“Perfect,” Shannon murmurs again, “Shane, exactly as you are. Ilya, can you tilt your head- yes, stop just there-”

A few more photos, a few more minute shifts, but Shane thinks he might just be content to sit here forever, the warmth and solidity of Ilya against his back and his arm around his shoulders almost addictive.

But Shannon says she’s got what they need and Shane sits up almost reluctantly, mourns the loss of Ilya’s hand on his chest as he readjusts his shirt.

“We’d usually break for lunch now,” Shannon tells him, “but Ilya’s content to do the joint shoot next too before lunch, if you are, and then you’re both free for the rest of the day?”

Shane nods, and they’re asked to remove the regency outfits.

“There’s towels, somewhere,” Edie murmurs as she rifles through a cabinet. “You can leave your underwear on, of course,” she explains and hands them both plain white towels,” but if you can wrap these around your hips, as if you’d come straight from the shower or something.”

They both nod and retreat to the changing room again to do so. Shane neatly hangs up the costume again as he loops the towel over his underwear, twisting the edge so it holds itself up. He looks up, and his breath catches again at the sight of muscle rippling under the skin of Ilya’s back and shoulders, impressively fit.

“What sort of workout routine do you have?” Shane finds himself asking, because those delts are seriously impressive.

Ilya blinks at him, a slightly disbelieving grin slicing through his face.

“I’m a PT,” Shane explains when Ilya simply lifts an eyebrow. “You’ve clearly got a good routine going on, so I’m just curious.”

Ilya huffs a sharp little laugh, but outlines his routine - the gym, running, some calisthenics - for Shane. It’s nothing crazy, but the discipline of it is impressive, and attractive. The more clinical, work-based conversation also is helping to distract him from the pecs that Shane wants to curve his hands around, bite down on, as he tries to push down the desire to follow the lines of his abs downwards.

Their second shoot is shorter than the first, since they’re just meant to be two fit torsos on a book cover. They mostly pose side-by-side, arms around waists or gripping their towels, heads turned so jaws can show they’re looking at each other.

Shane’s more than a little glad they’re not facing each other, because he’s not sure he’d be able to hide his reaction if that bare torso was pressed up against his own - as it is it’s only Shannon and Edie’s presence that has him able to prevent himself from reaching out to press his hands across golden skin - and the heat in Ilya’s gaze isn’t helping as hazel eyes trace the lines of Shane’s own torso regularly. He reminds himself sternly that this is a job, and Ilya might just be getting into the requirements of it all - he’s not necessarily attracted to Shane, and tries to tell himself he doesn’t hate that thought.

They’re released pretty quickly, and Shane shrugs his own clothes back on with something like relief, thanks Edie and Shannon for a good first shoot as they pat him on the shoulder and return the ‘thank yous’ and farewells.

He nips to the bathroom before he leaves, but when he emerges from the building a few minutes later Ilya is there waiting, cigarette between two fingers as he leans up against the wall.

“Good shoot,” Ilya nods at him, and Shane can’t help but linger.

“You too,” he returns. “You were very convincing.”

Ilya stares at him for a long second, exhaling smoke slowly. “Was not all pretend,” he says slowly, gaze intent on Shane, “You are very pretty to look at.”

“Oh,” Shane flushes, even as his pulse picks up with flattered pleasure. “Thanks.”

Ilya stubs out his cigarette, eyes boring into Shane intently enough that he feels practically pinned in place, unable to move.

“You want to go to lunch?” Ilya asks.

“Yes,” Shane nods, maybe a little too eagerly, but the way Ilya’s face softens a little gives him more hope.

“I mean for this to be a date,” Ilya adds as he steps in closer, the post-cigarette smell of him not as nice as his shampoo but not as much a turn off as Shane usually finds smoking. His heart speeds up as if he’s having the workout of his life, watching Ilya take another step towards him. “If you were not pretending either.”

“I wasn’t,” Shane confesses after a second, eyes flickering between intense hazel eyes and the mouth he’s spent the last hour trying not to watch.

A grin curls across Ilya’s face, something a little self-satisfied in it as his hand wraps around Shane’s wrist, tugs him gently a few steps over to the corner of the building, where they won’t be as visible from reception.

“Yes?” Ilya asks softly as he leans in, thick lips almost brushing Shane’s lips with the question.

And fuck, this is crazy, but Shane leans in and kisses him in answer, lets the sensation fill him until all other thoughts are gone, until he’s being pressed up against the wall as Ilya’s tongue twines with his.

“Lunch,” Ilya eventually groans, as his stomach rumbles audibly between them. “And then we continue this.”

“Okay,” Shane agrees breathlessly, hope and arousal and anticipation flooding him as Ilya leans in for a last quick peck. This is so far from his norm he can feel the anxiety humming lowly in his fingertips, but there’s something coming from Ilya that’s easily outweighing the worry, the sheer want to get to know the model and kiss him again and so much more.

“Come, then,” Ilya takes his hand again and Shane smiles back at him, happily follows him to lunch and wherever they’ll go together next.