to the studio. He’d stayed away for two days and hadn’t spoken to Christian. He’d left a message on his voice mail and that was all. The last two days, David had spent outdoors with his camera, snapping pictures of whatever caught his eye, eating from street vendors, sitting on a bench in Central Park, watching people. He’d taken hundreds of pictures but his heart hadn’t been in it because every time he stopped to think, his mind would travel here, to the studio, and to what had happened in Christian’s bed the last time they’d been together, the things Christian had said and done, the way Christian had made him feel. David knew he was being ridiculous, thinking about what Christian had said to get him into bed.
David shook his head to clear it, still standing outside the door wondering if he could actually go inside. He told himself for the millionth time that he needed this job and that he would do it, but he wasn’t doing anything special anymore, and he certainly wasn’t setting foot in Christian’s apartment. Taking a deep breath, he inserted his key and opened the door. Stepping inside, the room was dark and still. Thankful that Christian wasn’t up yet. He walked to the desk. He set his bag by his chair and booted up the PC, figuring he might as well catalog any of the work Christian had done in the last few days. It was his job, after all. Looking through the folders, he couldn’t find any new photographs, so he checked the calendar. Christian had had one appointment scheduled. Checking the cameras, he found the photographs and pulled them to the PC. He barely looked at them as he began the cataloguing and sorting process, afraid of what might be there. There weren’t many, and what there was appeared to be the initial shots of a shoot and then nothing. He rechecked the cameras, but there was nothing else.
Turning on the ambient studio lighting, he found the set area a mess of props and pillows. The bed had been set up, but it was a mess, and it didn’t take David very long to realize what had happened there. It appeared that instead of taking pictures, Christian had been doing something very different. Pulling the white sheets off the bed, David threw them into the hamper before putting away all the props where they belonged. At least he wasn’t going to see the rumpled sheets and fuck pillows. Checking the rest of the studio and finding nothing amiss, David returned to the desk. The calendar showed an appointment that afternoon, but nothing until then, so David reached into his bag and pulled out the memory stick that contained the pictures he’d taken.
On the large, high-resolution monitor, his pictures looked better than he thought they would, and he reviewed then, cropping some of the edges to cut things away.
“Those are very good,” Christian said from behind him, and David jumped, closing the files and removing the memory stick.
“I cleaned up the studio and catalogued the pictures from your shoot,” David said evenly. “I wasn’t sure what else you wanted me to do. I hadn’t been working on my own pictures for very long.” David put the drive in his bag and stood up. Christian’s scent filled his nose, and he flashed on the way Christian’s eyes had burned into him while they had been making… been together, and he had to get away.
“I’m glad you’re back. As you saw from the pictures, the shoot yesterday didn’t go very well,” Christian rubbed the back of his neck nervously. David wanted to say that from the condition of the bed, something seemed to have gone well, but that was none of his business. He was Christian’s assistant and nothing more. What his boss did was his own business. “I have coffee on if you’d like some,” Christian offered, and David thanked him, but shook his head.
“I’m your studio assistant, and as such, my realm lies within this room. I won’t be going into your apartment for anything. That’s your private space and I will not be going there for any reason. There have to be some lines and that’s one of them.” David moved further away from Christian, pulling open the draperies to let in some sunlight, hoping he’d feel less trapped and nervous. “What sort of session is scheduled for today?” he asked, turning back from the windows. “Do you want the