At thirty-two, Daniel had learned how to look confident in front of a camera. He knew where to place his hands, how to tilt his chin, and how to hide the nerves that came with being watched.
Across the studio, Marcus lowered his camera. “You’re doing it again.”
“Doing what?”
“Trying to look like someone who doesn’t care.”
Daniel laughed, but the sound came out softer than he intended. “Maybe I’m just waiting for direction.”
Marcus stepped closer, his expression warm beneath the teasing. “Then try this. Forget the camera. Look at me.”
The room seemed to shrink around them. Daniel met his eyes and felt the familiar spark turn into something steadier, more dangerous. Marcus lifted the camera, but didn’t take the shot.
“There,” he murmured. “That’s the one.”
“What pose is it?”
“The one you make when you trust me.”
Daniel’s smile faded into something more vulnerable. “And if I do?”
Marcus set the camera aside. “Then I’ll be careful with that.”
For a moment, neither moved. Then Daniel reached for his hand, giving Marcus time to pull away. He didn’t. Their fingers intertwined, and the space between them finally disappeared.
The kiss was unhurried—tender at first, then charged with all the things they’d been too cautious to say. When they parted, Marcus rested his forehead against Daniel’s.
“Keep that pose,” he whispered.
Daniel smiled. “Only if you stay.”
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