Alistair

May. 17th, 2019 09:58 pm
nola_namor: (7)
[personal profile] nola_namor
Alistair was something special, Eric thought, but particularly postcoital. That was when all the sharp edges seemed to melt into something vulnerable and Eric could hold him without needing to be concerned about the prickles.

He enjoyed Alistair's acid tongue and simmering irritation with the world at large—that was just passion in another form—but an Alistair at peace was rarer and therefore more precious.

Eric turned on his side in bed to trace a finger down the length of Alistair's spine. "Are you awake?"

Alistair

Apr. 27th, 2019 12:33 am
nola_namor: (5)
[personal profile] nola_namor
Eric let him wait five minutes before calling a Lyft.

It was another four minutes before the car showed up, and the drive itself was eight. So Alistair was somewhere, naked for seventeen minutes, and Eric couldn't help but smile at the thought of it. He was probably beyond irritated.

He took his time getting out of the car and making the walk up to Alistair's apartment, his footsteps deliberate and loud to his ears. So was the knock on the door, and the anticipation that came afterward.

Alistair

Apr. 20th, 2019 10:44 pm
nola_namor: (3)
[personal profile] nola_namor
Eric's great photographic weakness was people.

He'd sailed countless waters and captured images of whales majestically breaching the waves, of waves so tall and breakwater-white that they didn't seem to be of Earth. He'd traveled through valleys and mountains, shooting everything from entire landscapes devastated from drought to crumbling ruins that attested to the impermanence of humanity's efforts to tame their surroundings. Hell, he'd won his first major critical acclaim for a close-up shot of a ladybug battling an aphid, a photo that evoked palpable tension and drama on a micro level.

But put a baby in front of him and all his shots would be flat and lifeless. He just couldn't connect emotionally.

So, well, while making his home base in one of the biggest tourist destinations in the country, why not use the opportunity to practice? Most people were too busy gawking all around them to even notice he was photographing them and not the sights, and it wasn't like he was going to do anything with these shots.

Like now, for instance, seated at a cafe table in front of an indie coffeehouse, it was nothing to casually pick up his camera—he always had it on hand, because you never knew what you might stumble across—and snap a photo of an interesting-looking tourist with snowy hair. Or was he photographing two pigeons fighting over a cruller, just on the other side of the street? The world would never know!

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