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Model Behavior | Private

C

Chokuro

Pulsar
Joined
May 8, 2009
He needed him. He would look so beautiful with the intentions of what he wanted to draw. What he wanted to photograph! Yet ... The man was far too expensive for his wallet. He had barely enough money to feed himself, yet alone get such a well-known model to be his model! He did not want much more than a single picture. Just one time to photograph him or sketch him. He really, really needed to find a way to meet the man. Beg him to take on a charity case like himself. Maybe he would be kind. Maybe he would let him be his model for a cheap price?

Tracey had so many thoughts rushing through his mind right now that he could not sit still. He took up his sketchbook and everything that he needed and hit the streets. He knew where the man lived, luckily fairly close to his apartment, so he could hopefully be allowed to see him. Or meet with him. Something!
 
Ren stood outside his condo, leaning against the building, a cigarette between his lips, and a cellphone in one hand. He'd long since quit smoking, since he'd started modeling, but it had been a hard habit to break and the familiar feel of the death stick between his lips was comforting. He was dressed nicely, although a bit casual in a pair of faded jeans and a form fitting black t-shirt that left little to the imagination. He pulled the smoke from his lips and rested it behind his ear as he said goodbye to his manager, who was vacationing for the next week, giving him a week off as well.

It wasn't a vacation he was looking forward to. Without work, he had little else to occupy his time with, and his oh so empty condo did nothing to relax him. He'd thought about finding a roommate, but that was too much hassle, and hiring a maid of some other sort of company seemed just a bit... desperate. Besides, for that sort of company, he was much to picky to go street shopping.
 
Tracey found his way to the street the man's condo was on, still not totally sure what he would say to the man. He did not know how he even managed the nerve to suddenly become his stalker, either. Well, he supposed, it was not stalking. He would ask him if he would model for him in exchange for ... something he still had yet to come up with, and if he was denied, then he would merely put it off as something that he would not be able to do. He was not some weirdo who would keep it up and not accept a 'no'. He would hate to hear it, and honestly, already was preparing himself for that hideous word to pass that man's gorgeous lips, but he never knew until he tried.

When he came up to the building, he was greeted far too early by the man that he wished to speak with. Why was he outside?! That just messed up his whole thinking time of knocking on the door, waiting to be shooed away or carried off and ... aaaah! HE WAS THERE! Right there. FIVE steps away from him. okay, big steps since he was quite frightened to go farther, but the man was ... Oh Gosh!

"H... hello." He said, kicking himself for stuttering like a fool. He took one step closer to the man, a deep breath pulling into his lungs and he squeezed his eyes closed for a few moments before he soon went into his question - it was like a bandaid. Better to rip it off right away and suffer the hurt [and embarrassment] than wait and postpone it all. "My name is Tracey McGuin, I'm an artist. I like to photograph and draw people and landscapes and I had come across your pictures many, many times and I cannot help but to be swept away by how beautiful you are in anything I have ever seen you in and I was wondering if ... I know I don't have nearly enough money to pay you what you get, but I was hoping that maybe you would be my model. I ... I'd do anything just to take one or two pictures of you or if you would let me draw you and I know it's unreasonable to think that a model so gorgeous as yourself would take on a pity-case like me but you never know until you try, right? So, I'm trying and praying and wishing and really, really badly wanting you to say yes and I don't know what I could possibly have that you may want, but you name it, and as long as I can do it, I will!" And yes, most of that was said within one big breath of air.
 
Ren stared blankly at him as he spoke, pulling out his cig again halfway through. He was tempted to just turn and walk away, not even dignifying the other with an answer. But then... wasn't this -exactly- what he'd been looking for? It wouldn't be nearly so desperate if he was doing it for the brat's sake, and as hopeful as the other was... well, he did say he'd do -anything- right?

He looked him over like some sort of predator, wondering what sort of stoke of luck had played in their favor. The artist was precisely his type, with dark hair and soft pale skin... although he talked too much. Well, and it was a bit creepy for a fan to have found out where he lived. But then, why be picky?

"So... you want me to model for you, when you have no payment to offer?" He asked testingly, as if Tracey had just suggested he dance naked in the streets just for the hell of it. He may have liked where this was going, but if he was going to allow this, it would be on his terms, and it would be played out like some kind of huge favor. "But you're willing to do anything? Seriously, -anything-?" he emphasized with a lustful hint that made it very clear what he was suggesting.

He looked him over again, nibbling lightly on the cigarette, "You know... I could use some ah... company," He said slowly, "and it could be fun to have someone around to play with." He added innocently, despite how obviously sinful what he was suggesting was. "If you really will do anything for it, I'm sure we could work something out, don't you think? If you really want me to be your model, then be here tomorrow evening, around seven." He said as he pulled his weight from the building, moving to step inside. "Wear something cute, and expect to stay for a while. I'll model for you for as long as you're willing to make it worth my time." This seemed like the best way to do it. It would give the boy some time to come to terms with what he'd be doing, and he wouldn't have to suffer any loss of dignity if he didn't show.
 
Tracey stared up at the taller male, a raven brow lifting in question. Anythi-- Oh. He ... got ... that. He was not sure what to think now that he had gotten the other man's intentions, but oh he did not know. It had not really, truly crossed his mind to do that sort of "anything" for him. Honestly, he did not think that Ren would have been interested in men in general, yet alone someone so average and boring like himself! He was unsure of what to do other than nod with a simple, "yes" to his words. He would not have any problems doing what he wanted! Okay, he really had all of ... NO experience in that sort of thing, so he was soooo very nervous about that, but he said he would do it!

Suppressing the many urges to pounce and hug the man, he settled for quite the many nods and a restatement of "seven sharp!" before he turned on his heel and practically ran off to his home once more.

The rest of the night was spent packing clothes in one suitcase, then his art supplies in the other. Half the case filled with his camera supplies, the other half with, well, half of his drawing supplies, and oh he hoped he did not forget anything! He really, really did not want to be unprepared for the man. Who knew what the man would want him to do when he got there?! Maybe he would not be allowed to leave? Oh, that would be something ... interesting.

Finally, after literally counting down the seconds, seven arrived and so did Tracey. The raven-haired male stood in front of the condo he had been just the day before, taking in a deep breath to calm himself. he would be sure that he did not turn into a blubber mouth again. He knew that once he was comfortable and hopefully got over his nerves of being with Ren, he would calm down and not be so hyper, but for now, he had to force himself to remember that. Knocking on the door, he waited.
 
Ren was honestly surpised that the boy had shown up again. He'd been convinced Tracey would chicken out, after all, he was asking the guy for a lot in exchange for a few photos. He looked like he'd spent the day relaxing, and while he was gorgeous as ever, Ren was very much at home for the day. His feet were bare, and he was wearing a nice pair of jeans, and an open long sleeved button up shirt that gave the other a good view of his toned chest. "Well... come in, come in." He said with the same smile that paid his rent as he sung the door open and stepped back.

The condo was neatly furnished, and it was clear from the flat screen on the wall and the nice furnishings that Ren made a lot of money off his looks. "I really wasn't expecting you to show up. You all but ran for it yesterday." He motioned for Tracey to follow as he headed down the hall and pushed open one of several doors. "This will be your room while you're here, feel free to move things around and set up as you wish. When you're done, come join me in the dining room and we'll work out the details."

He returned to the kitchen, grabbing two drinks and a plate of snacks before setting them on the living room table. He waited for Tracey to join him before asking, "So what exactly do you want from me? I mean, are you looking for just one shoot, or do you want me to sit still long enough for you to paint, or...?" He trailed off, giving Tracey a chance to explain. If it was something as simple as a single shoot, he could let Tracey spend the week working for him, and if he did well, reward him with an all day shoot on the weekend. If he wanted more, well, they could work from there.
 
Tracey let out a relieved sigh when the door opened and there were not any guard dogs sent to scare him off. Following the man through his house, his emerald eyes kept to the back of the other's strong form, enjoying the view quite nicely. He moved to the bedroom, placing all his things down and adjusting everything a little bit here and there. He then began to fidget with his clothes. He suddenly felt quite hideous, to be honest. He was with such a gorgeous man, and he felt like he was not even close to looking nice. Simple blue jeans and the black v-cut, long sleeved shirt he wore looked nice on him, and were the nicest things he owned, but he still felt so very out of place in this house.

Figuring there was nothing to do, he moved to the kitchen table, sitting down with his fingers laced and on top of the table while he listened to the other's question. "Both, I suppose. Or, rather, whichever you will not mind. I ... I like to do both. They each have their own merits and I do not really favor one over the other, so really, it is what you will let me do. Since you are giving me such a huge opportunity, I do not want to burden you with something you do not want to do, or will not like."
 
"Mm, do you think I'd make a living at it if I didn't like it?" He asked with a warm smile, "Relax, I already agreed didn't I?" He said as he offered the hings he'd set out. "Let's make it easy, if you'll spend the week doing what I want, anything I want, then I'll spend the weekend doing anything you want. That's fair enough, right? You'll be able to take as many photographs as you want, dress me up however you want, we can go wherever you'd like, and you can set up whatever image suits you, as long as it's not discrediting." He added. He wasn't about to risk his job.

"But of course, you'll have to do anything I ask. If you refuse, that'll be the end of the deal. Sound good?" He asked with a devilish grin, looking forward to what he'd expected to be a boring week. He wondered if Tracey had any idea what he was getting himself into.
 
Tracey listened to the man and nodded. He was right. He did agree to this, so really, he should not have much to be worried about -- right?! Yet, he really, really was. Taking in a deep breath, he relaxed himself a little bit more. He was the artist. He was the one who should make the decisions, but he was just so happy that he was able to even be near Ren, that it truly was hard to process. Nodding a few more times, he relaxed with a soft, "You're right." before going back to listening to him.

Anything and everything he wanted? basically ... Well, that definitely would be something of interest, yes? He chewed his bottom lip and then took in a deep breath, eyes opening to look at the man in front of him once more. "Yes. That is fine. I'll ... do anything you ask." He nodded once more and then crossed his arms, resting them on top of the table, absently toying with the cuffs of his shirt. His eyes closed for a moment and he then took in another breath to look over at the man. "So, you live alone?"
 
Ren nodded, "I do, luckily for you." he said, since their little deal wouldn't have worked otherwise. "I've yet to find anyone interested in more than my looks and my money, so alone it is. So, tell me a bit about yourself. How old are you?" He prompted, giving him something of a starting point. He figured if they would be spending the week together, there wasn't any reason not to get to know each other first.
 
Tracey nodded a little bit, setting back in his seat to pull his right knee up to his chest. His arms wrapped around his leg, chin resting to the side of his knee and he nodded a bit. "I'm nineteen. I've been on my own since I was thirteen, maybe fourteen ... and I've been interested in art since I could pick up a crayon, or look at a picture.' He stated, shrugging and then his eyes turned to the male across from him once more. "What about you? Why do you model?"

Yes, he was curious. He always wondered what made a person want to model. Was it just being pretty and not wanting to work? Or was it because he wanted to just be in front of the limelight ... Oh the many reasons he could think of.
 
"Why? Well, I'm a sucker for the attention, and the amazing pay doesn't hurt." He said with a grin. "I started when I was fifteen, and I just... haven't been able to quit. It's an amazing feeling being under those lights and knowing everyone's admiring you. I like the walks better than the shoots though, they're much less work, and more admiration. There's nothing more annoying than a picky camera man." He paused, realizing that he was telling this to a photographer. "Of course, you're paying for my time, in your own way, so be as picky as you'd like." He said with a wink.

"On your own that long hn? How come?" He asked, hoping he wasn't getting into anything too personal.
 
"No, no, no! I understand where you're coming from. I ... am not one to be picky. Honestly, if my model is happy, then I am happy. It shows through the pictures, you know." He shook his head a bit, eyes closing while he rested his head against his knee once more. He really did not like to be a pest to his models - the few he has had. He always preferred when those that he photographed or drew were comfortable and happy. While he may choose the scenery, he always let them be in control of themselves. They were the ones posing, so however they wanted, they could do that.

When the question was once again back at him, he shrugged his shoulders a little too nonchalantly. "My family disowned me." He stated simply, eyes lifting to look over at the other man with an expression that had only a hint of sorrow, but mostly, it was just apathy. "It's a long, boring story, and I'm sure you do not wish to hear it"
 
"Actually, I wouldn't mind hearing it, but I understand if it's not something you want to talk about." he said with a small shrug. "I wasn't exactly disowned, but being a gay model's made me the black sheep of the family." He stood and stretched, "Do you want a drink? I've got pretty much everything, I'm talking booze of course." He said with a wink. "You can start your story if you want, I can hear you fine from the kitchen, and I won't be long."
 
Tracey remained silent, piping up with a simple, "i'll have what you are" and then went back to relaxing in the chair. He did not really wish to share his story. It was not really all that interesting, and mostly, he hated to tell it. There was no need, and so why should he go through those horrid memories again if he did not have to? He really would not and did not. Instead, he merely shrugged his shoulders. "It's not something I wish to share, Sorry." he said over in the other's direction, turning back to stare at the table.
 
Ren fixed him a glass of sweet liquor and another for himself, "No problem." He said as he seated himself. "So, this photography thing, is it what you do for a living, or a hobby?" He asked, figuring he might as well keep the conversation going while they drank. He was growing to like Tracey, and the longer he was there, the more assured he was that it had been a great idea.
 
Tracey took the glass with a simple, "Thanks" before he sipped at the liquor. He shrugged a little, letting his leg drop to the floor and holding the cup with both hands. "Both? If I have a job, it's a hobby, if not, then it's my job. Currently? It's my job." He admitted, closing his eyes and letting out a short laugh. "I would love for it to keep my living, though, it's just unrealistic right now. I don't make enough off my pictures to live off them." he shrugged, sipping the liquor once more and then relaxing into the chair, sighing softly. "It ... is annoying. I want to live for the art, I do ... I suppose I just need to be discovered."

Slowly, his eyes lifted to the model and he blushed faintly. "Sorry. I suppose you don't need to hear a struggling artist's whine." He laughed and then set the glass onto the table, arms stretching above his head with a little groan. Man, he was tired. He really, really should have gotten sleep last night.
 
"You'll make plenty off them some day, if you're good." He said as he sipped at his drink. "If you really want to make it though, and I mean make it big, you've got to apprentice under Ernie Chekhov. It'll cost you a lot, sure, but his students go on to big places, and he can get you in just about anywhere." He shook his head as Tracey apologized, "It's fine, don't worry about it." He said with a wave of his hand, "You can talk to me about whatever you want, I wouldn't mind getting to know you."

He finished his drink, and set his cup aside watching him stretch with obvious interest. "You look tired, want to watch a movie then call it a night?" He suggested, wanting to relax, but not yet ready to sleep. A movie sounded like the perfect thing.
 
Ernie Chekhov, huh? He heard of him, of course he did, he just was pretty sure he would not be able to study under him. At least, not right now. Maybe when he did get the money to, or the courage, or opportunity to find him, but that was not for a while, and that definitely was something he would look into more when he was in his mid-twenties. Right now, he was still just a teenager, technically, and so doing that this early did not really seem like a smart plan. Besides, he had to try it out on his own first, then see if he got anywhere. And if not? He would go try and be someone's apprentice.

Looking over at Ren once more, Tracey nodded a bit. "Sure." He said softly, pushing himself up from his chair. He took the last few sips of his drink, already just a little glossy-eyed. He really was a lightweight when it came to drinks. He yawned gently, murmuring a small, "any movie" before he moved to sit on the couch. He stared off at the television for a bit, slightly watching the other man put in the movie and vaguely feeling him sit beside him. The opening titles barely had time to hit the screen before the little ravenette was falling to the side with his head against Ren's shoulder and out like a light.
 
Ren settled into the couch next to Tracey, giving a small sigh as the other fell against him, already asleep. He pulled the blanket from the back of the couch, careful not to wake him, and wrapped it around him. He then settled in, one arm around Tracey, as he watched the rest of the movie. By the time the credits were over and the movie was done, he was wishing he'd just gone to bed. He looked over at Tracey for a moment, contemplating what to do with him. He very carefully got up, gently letting the boy rest on the couch while he turned off the tv, lights, and locked the doors before returning to the couch. He carefully slid one arm under his shoulder, and the other under his knees and carried him, blankets and all to his guest room. He carefully set him down on the bed, his head on the pillow, making sure the blanket covered him. He sat on the edge of the bed for a minute, half tempted to just curl up next to him and go to sleep, and... well, why not? It was his house, he could do what he wanted. He practically fell over next to Tracey, asleep before his head hit the pillow.

Having not slipped under the blankets, by morning, he was freezing. He'd cuddled up to Tracey during the night, one arm around him, the other clutching the pillow as he slept soundly, shivering a bit.
 
when morning came, Tracey groaned and curled up next to the male beside him a little bit more. He nuzzled the man before realizing -- there was someone there. He pulled back, quite sharply, and stared at the gorgeous man that was there. Instantly, his cheeks flushed red and he scurried away from him. He draped the blanket over the other's form, heart racing. He ... Just ... Aaah!!

He took in a deep breath, calming his racing heart and just trying to not freak out at the moment. He rubbed at his chest a bit, willing his heart to relax a little. Slowly, it did. His mind stopped swirling and he was thinking properly once more. He looked around, trying to find out where a shower was. He needed to shower. He looked around, prodding around the room before he came back to the man on his bed. He stared at him, soon just shaking his head.

Letting him sleep, the ravenette headed out of the room and down the hall. He said make himself at home, right? So, a shower it was. Luckily, he found the bathroom after the second door and slid inside. Stripping to his birthday suit, he hopped into the warm water, relaxing instantly with the water flowing over his body.
 
Ren grumbled complaints in his sleep as his source of warmth fled, but he seemed to relax when the blanket was pulled over him. It wasn't until he heard the shower that he woke, and it took him a moment to remember why he was still dressed and in the guest room. Once he had, he got to his feet and stumbled sleepily back to his own room and bathroom. A hot shower, a brush, and some clothes later, he stood in the kitchen over a frying pan. He had decided to give the boy something to look at today. A tight pair of leather pants gave a lovely hint at what they hid, and a matching open vest hung over a lime green long sleeved shirt. He was still barefoot, as he always was indoors, but today he'd done his hair up and put on some accessories, and looked like he was ready for a shoot. He flipped a pancake expertly, then tossed it onto a plate as he started the next one. He hated cooking, but he'd gotten good at it when a week straight of cup-o-nooddles made him gain ten pound and then spend the weekend hugging a garbage can.
 
Tracey took a longer shower than the man. he had not meant to, but he felt strangely unclean. Though, really, it was just in comparison to the man he was now staying with. He did not want to look dirty or anything for him, so he made sure every nook and cranny was properly cleansed and he felt so much better as he left the bathroom too. He took in a deep breath before the scents flooded his nose. Mm... he purred gently, taking a few steps toward the source before he perked up instantly.

Ren was cooking ... and he looked ... oh Gosh! SO good! Quickly turning on his heel, he rushed into his room, rummaging for a few moments to find his camera. He lifted the quite expensive one - though obviously not the most expensive out there - and rushed back to the kitchen. he calmed his steps when he got closer, not really wanting the other man to know he was there. Standing a few feet away, just barely hidden by the corner of the wall, the camera clicked only twice and the towel-clad man smiled to himself.

"Perfect." he whispered before turning a faint pink as he looked at the man. "Sorry ... I know you said the weekend but ... Really, you looked too good." He justified, fidgeting with the strap on his camera. he was not sure if the other was mad and so he just stayed where he was, not really caring about his half-naked status right now. He just wanted to hear whether or not the man was pissed before he did anything else. Or if he should get ready to pack up.
 
Luckily the camera caught him before he realized Tracey was there, because at the sound of it, along with the voice, he jumped, sending the pancake he was trying to flip airborn. He turned just in time for it to smack him in the face. It stayed there, glued crooked to the side of his forehead, and for a moment he looked quite comical. Of course, as color rose to his face, it might not have been in Tracey's best interest to laugh.

He peeled the hot cake from his face and tossed it, steaming as he turned the burner off wordlessly. When he finally turned back to Tracey, he seemed to have calmed down a bit, but it was a bit eerie as he slowly closed the distance between them. "New rules, if I'm handling something hot, or doing anything else potentially dangerous, don't sneak up on me." He said as he snagged the camera and looked it over. "You use this old thing?" He asked, as he toyed with the settings a bit, careful to leave everything as he'd found it when he handed it back. "Come have a seat, breakfast is ready." He grinned slyly, having found a lovely punishment for the surprise shot. "I think if you can photograph in a towel, you can certainly have breakfast that way. Sit." He said motioning to the table as he moved to dish plates.
 
The man went wide-eyed when the pancake hit him in the face, gasping as he stared at the man, utterly frozen. He really, really was tempted to take another photo, but figured a photograph would not be worth his life. He remained right where he was, watching as he came closer and his breath caught in his throat. Shit. Shit. SHIT! He closed his eyes, relaxing when the camera was taken from his hands to be examined by the other. He nodded. "I like it." he admitted, smiling lightly. "There's something to be said for developing your own film." He added and then took the camera back when the mention of breakfast was made.

He nodded, blushing faintly while he made his way toward the table. he placed his camera on the counter, not wanting to risk it getting messy. Just as he was heading back to his seat, he stopped and turned to the male that had a bit of pancake gunk in his hair. Chewing his bottom lip for a moment, he reached forward, gently pulling the goop out of his hair with a very soft, "Sorry" before he moved to sit on the chair. He shivered a little, chair cool to his rump. He scooted to the table, beginning to butter up the pancakes, too scared to look over at the gorgeous man right now.
 
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