[ Every other part of his life, the externality, is rigid angles and structures, highly manicured, and carefully maintained. The soft and messy roundness of their time behind closed doors always makes him feel that much more himself, contact he can have because it's his, it's theirs. He can linger in the affectionate bump, leaning back for comfort, to connect.
He thumbs Ian's hip and makes a small, disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. Not the same put-upon expression when a gala or a private party are concerned, but annoyed nonetheless. ]
Photo shoot. Some kind of- [ Nate sighs heavily. ] -modeling gig Sam dug up.
[ There are worse things, but he hates standing there like a mannequin for what feels like hours while they ask him to channel some emotion he's decidedly not feeling. Ultimately Nate tends to think about where he'd rather be. ]
no subject
He thumbs Ian's hip and makes a small, disgruntled sound in the back of his throat. Not the same put-upon expression when a gala or a private party are concerned, but annoyed nonetheless. ]
Photo shoot. Some kind of- [ Nate sighs heavily. ] -modeling gig Sam dug up.
[ There are worse things, but he hates standing there like a mannequin for what feels like hours while they ask him to channel some emotion he's decidedly not feeling. Ultimately Nate tends to think about where he'd rather be. ]
Before you ask, I did have clothes on.