Moonlight and Canvas

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Photo shoot turns fuck.
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"Wanted: Men over 18 to pose for charcoal that will be used as potential novel cover art. Must be muscular but not overly so. Think Brad Pitt in Fight Club. Some body hair ok, but not to Robin Williams level. Must be willing to pose nude in the woods at night. Fee to be discussed based on time needed for completion of project. If interested, call R. L. at..."

The flyer caught Mark's eye as he was changing shoes. He read as he put his running shoes into his backpack. (Sounds interesting) he thought. He noticed that none of the little slips of paper had been torn off yet. Looking around the gym he surreptitiously tore a slip off and tucked it into his pocket.

He'd seen the person tacking the note to the bulletin board. The man had been furtive, as if he didn't want to be seen placing the ad. (Nude at night, I'd be fuckin' nervous too! These guys might kill him. They still might if they call and get Ryan...) Mark had seen the man's reflection in the mirrored wall as he had left and realized that the R. from the note was a familiar face.

Ryan was a regular, same as Mark. They were often at the gym at the same time, though they'd rarely spoken besides to ask if the other was off a machine, and once Ryan had offered to spot for him when he was working with the weights. (I didn't know Ryan was an artist. Wonder why the forest at night though? That's kinda creepy. The nude part _is_ creepy.) He tore the note down, crumpled it and threw it into the trash where the paper towels from cleaning the sweat off of machines were thrown. (Nobody will see it there. And he won't get the shit beat out of him.)

Mark was five-eight and a lithe 22 years old. He had muscular shoulders that tapered in to his trim waist, and developed arms and back muscles from swimming. Taut calves and strong thighs came from running miles each day. His abs were finely outlined and the small line of hair that pointed the way to his groin was stark against his pale skin. His hair was long on top, falling into his eyes, though the sides were short. Mark smiled as he imagined himself on a book cover, and wondered if Ryan would change his eye color from hazel to blue if he asked.

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Ryan had taken the phone call and set up the time. Friday night was nearing the full moon and he was anxious to get the basics of the lighting detail that he wanted. It didn't really matter who the subject was, as long as the basic body type worked so he could get the definition dictated by the description he was given.

He had given the man on the phone directions and the time to be there, but he was afraid his subject would cancel without telling him. There had been only one response to his notice, and when he went to check the board the paper was gone. He couldn't work up the courage to post another one, so he had waited and hoped.

The modeling session would be done in a clearing behind his camper. He had bought the land years ago but done nothing with it so had set up an RV and called it home and studio. The -work- would be done in the studio that was set up in the former kitchen area of the vehicle. He was hopeful; the man on the phone had been nervous, questioning, but willing once he found out the the nudity only went as far as what he had called 'the ridge' between hips and lower stomach.

Gravel crunched and he looked up to see that his guest had arrived. Ryan pulled his canvas, charcoal pencils, and digital camera off the table and went out to meet his subject.

"Hi, I'm Ryan." He extended his hand.

"Mark." The voice was soft, almost scared. Ryan looked down at Mark from his six-two height. (Can there possibly be musculature beneath the oversized sweats? This guy might be wasting our time.)

He realized he was probably intimidating his guest so he slouched just a bit and said, "So, we can talk for a little bit, get you up to speed on what I'm working on, who I am, what have you. Or we can head off and get started so as not to waste moonlight. Your call."

"I know who you are," came the soft voice. "You've spotted for me. We're at the gym a lot at the same time." He looked up and the light from Ryan's RV caught his face. Ryan grinned at the familiar features and a thrill ran through him when he realized that there really -was- a hard body under the clothes.

"Oh, hi! I didn't recognize you out of context. You know how it is." His voice was apologetic and he ran a hand through his short blonde spikes. "So, uh, should we go then?" At the nod, Ryan started off to the side of the RV. "I've got most of my stuff ready in the clearing up ahead here." He motioned with the camera and canvas. "We'll start with upper body... I need some pictures for later reference and I'd like to get those first."

Mark followed carefully, making affirmative noises when Ryan paused. He was getting more and more nervous.

"Hey, I uh..." He faltered when Ryan turned to look at him expectantly. Ryan's eyes were black in the moon light and his smile flashed bright. He was buff, built more solidly than Mark, and his arms in the black tank top rippled as he shifted his supplies. "I uh, brought some wine with me. I might need to be buzzed to do this..."

Ryan laughed. "Wine? What is this, a bacchanal?"

(A what?) "Uh, no, but it's all I had in the place and I didn't want to make a stop or I might have turned around and gone home." Mark was embarrassed and grateful that the shadows of the trees would hide his burning face as they walked.

"Whatever floats your boat I guess," Ryan shrugged. They walked in silence until the lights from the camper were lost in the trees. "Clearing's just ahead."

As they got nearer, Mark could see the set up. In the middle of a the treeless space stood a chair, small TV tray table, and an empty easel. There was a desk lamp attached to the easel and the cord stretched to a tiny power generator. Ryan got to it first and set up the canvas and spread his supplies and camera on the table.

"I want you at the tree line over..." He turned in a slow circle, examining the light quality. "There. Against that tree. And, uh, I need you to take your shirt off." He turned to hide his face. He hadn't expected anyone he would know to call, and he hoped that he would be able to hide his excitement about seeing Mark nearly naked.

(Damn, I wish I had anticipated this. What if I react wrong... He's already spooked and if he thought this was turning me on he'd run like a jack rabbit. Dammit dammit dammit. I should have known a live subject was a bad idea.)

Ryan had been gay for as long as he could remember. He'd done all the normal boy stuff - G.I. Joes, little league, scouts - but he'd secretly imagined that his toys were friends and didn't want to fight but to love each other and play house. When he got older and into football and sex, he'd had to avoid showering after practices until he got home. He would masturbate furiously under the hot shower, visualizing the muscular legs and firm asses of other players.

His dick pulsed as he thought about those soapy sessions, stroking his long, smooth shaft to climax, and he tripped over his chair. Pulling himself to the present he cleared his throat and sat, avoiding turning on the light until the bulge in track pants subsided.

Mark had pulled a mostly full bottle of wine out of his sleeve where it had been hidden and was taking a long pull. He drained a third of what was left before he corked the bottle and set it down. He'd sort of lied to Ryan. He was halfway to buzzed before he'd pulled up to the place. Mark had parked about a hundred yards away and finished three airline sized bottles of flavored vodka before steeling himself and driving that final distance. The wine hit him quickly and he smiled at the warmth of being buzzed.

"Let's do this." He pulled off his shirt and tossed it to the grass. He kicked off his shoes and socks and strode barefoot to the indicated tree. (Wow, because -that- didn't sound half drunk) he thought as he leaned against the bark.

"Ok," said Ryan, "I need your left arm curled around the front of the tree, and your right arm up... No, like you're sleeping on it. Now splay your hand... Good. Turn your torso towards me so I can see more chest..." He spoke his directions from the easel, not wanting to get up and touch Mark yet. Not with a fading erection that would be far too noticeable at close range.

"Can you flick your hair forward?" At the questioning look Ryan realized with a sigh that he was going to have to physically intervene if he wanted the pose right. He stood and, praying that Mark was oblivious, stood to fix his hair. "Like this." He pulled some of the longer bangs into Mark's eyes. "Think 'wild animal looking through bars.' Like caged passion."

(Did I just say that? Fuck. Well. The requirements do state 'intensity and vulnerability' and I certainly have the latter.)

"I, uh, need to touch your body. I want to turn your hips..." Mark nodded and Ryan reached out, directing him to turn to face him a but more. "Perfect! hold it there!"

Mark's eyes reflected through the dark locks and he shifted, leaning his cheek against his arm. His nipple kept brushing the rough bark and it was both thrilling and annoying when the tingle zinged through his groin.

Ryan stood back studying the dappled pattern the trees made on Mark. The pose was great, the light was working, but the eyes... (Ah, well. Let's get the pictures at least.) He stepped over and grabbed the camera. "These shots are for later reference. I don't know how far I'll get tonight, and the pics will help me finish later." (And -finish- later. God that man is beautiful!) He'd had a few boyfriends in the years he'd been out, and once, at age 23, he'd been deeply in love with a gorgeous one, but none of them were so chiseled, so proportioned. At 25 now he'd realized that looks weren't any reason to base a relationship on, but damn, he wished Mark had given any indication that he would be willing.

The camera made little electronic noises as Ryan took shot after shot, capturing all of the angles, all of the light playing on muscles. After a few minutes he set it down, clicked on the little light, and got to work with the basic sketching.

The charcoals made a soft scraping noise and Mark started to get bored. He teased his nipple against the tree again to keep his body in the taut readiness Ryan had declared perfect and wondered if he had to take his pants off soon. (Midnight and wine are not a good combination right now. I'm sleepy and buzzed and bored.) He found himself closing his eyes.

Sighing, Ryan noticed his subject relaxing. "Mark, wake up. Let's finish the torso stuff and I'll let you go."

Starting, Mark opened his eyes. "I'm not sleeping. Just thinking. When do I need to take my pants off?" He was embarrassed to say, but he hoped the answer was 'not soon' because the combination of wine, rough touch on sensitive areas, and half-thought images had given him an erection.

"Well, either we can do that part now, or we can work on your expression. I can come help you with the pants if you want -"

"No!" The rejection stung, it was so forceful.

"I mean, no, no pants yet. I want to work..." Mark stammered, realizing that he'd said it too loudly and harshly when Ryan reacted by flinching away. "Let's get the eyes right."

He tried to look intense but didn't know what Ryan wanted. "Little help?" (Caged passion... Isn't that what he said earlier? How the hell do I do that?)

"Heat. Intensity. The character I'm using you as inspiration for is a lightning spirit in love with a human. I need to try to capture that some how..." Ryan thought. "Can you..." He paused again until an inspiration hit. "Can you picture looking at a beautiful woman that you want? Imagine you're at the bar, you see her, and you try to put into your gaze a promise of what you'd do with her if you got her home." (God this is awkward. I keep almost saying 'him.')

Grinning at the way Ryan stuttered trying to explain, Mark tried to imagine what he was told. He pictured several women, including his last three girlfriends, but he just wasn't feeling it. Truth be told none of his girlfriends had ever lasted long as romantic interests; they always ended up friends. He had more amicable girl pals than he ever thought possible. He'd always found sex more of an inconvenience than anything, though those same girlfriends roundly praised his size and skill.

He'd had other thoughts though. Sometimes he'd be thinking about... Well, about guys, and he would suddenly be very interested in sex. He tried to keep those thoughts under wraps, but maybe, for this situation... He let his gaze lock on to Ryan. He imagined those powerful arms wrapped around him. His heart thudded loudly and he wondered if Ryan could hear it.

Watching the flurry of thoughts pass through his subject's face was intriguing as he waited for Mark's expression to settle, and Ryan found himself making small sketches in the edges of his canvas. When he looked up next, the intensity in the eyes that met his was shocking. He breathed in with a little hitch as he stared. "Perfect." The word was soft and clear as he rose and blindly grabbed for the camera. "Whatever you're thinking, keep it up." He began snapping more shots. (Holy god, that's perfect. Whatever he's got in that head of his ... Mom I'm jealous.)

The buzz from the alcohol was wearing off, but Mark didn't care. Suddenly he was picturing Ryan naked and standing in front of him. (Why am I thinking this way? Why is this turning me on? Oh god, I'm so hard right now I hope he doesn't notice...) He didn't want to twist his body for fear of drawing attention to his lower body, but didn't need to worry. Ryan was locked on his face. His lips parted slightly, and his brushed his nipple against the bark again, making a tiny sound when the sensation hit.

Ryan almost came at that sound. His cock was straining as he took picture after picture, but he didn't notice. He was slowly working his way closer and closer to the tree line, doing his best to capture every flicker in Mark's eyes.

"That's amazing." Ryan whispered, and Mark jumped. He had been so deep in his thoughts that it was a shock to see Ryan standing only a few feet away. What was more shocking was the large bulge in his pants, clearly visible in the combined light of moon and lamp. (Holy fuck!) He stared and couldn't help it.

Seeing Mark's eyes shift and lose their focus, Ryan paused. He'd been so caught up in the effort of trying to get that look preserved that he hadn't realized how close he now was. He realized Mark was staring at him. At his crotch. At his ... "Oh, fuck!" Ryan finally noticed what Mark had; he rushed back to his supplies, clicked the light off and faced the other side of the clearing. "Fuck, I'm sorry! Don't get weirded out! I'm sorry!" (He's gonna fucking kill me. Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god!)

Mark pushed away from the tree and stretched his shoulders to release the stiffness from posing for so long. He had a half thought forming but didn't know what to do next. Stepping forward, he spotted the bottle on the ground. (Well, what the hell... I can't get back to the car without his help... And he's in no condition to lead me back... And, well, he is the reason I was able to get that intensity he wanted, so really, it's his fault...) He drank, letting the alcohol bolster his nerve. When it was gone he dropped the bottle and walked quietly up behind Ryan, who was still studiously facing away.

He reached out and trailed his fingertips light down Ryan's arm. Ryan flinched.

"Give me a minute Mark. I'll take you back in a minute." Ryan could barely breathe. His thoughts raced, trying to plan how to talk his way out of the situation, wondering how he'd ever face Mark at the gym again.

"It's ok."

The soft voice behind him was almost as surprising as that light touch on his arm had been but he kept staring studiously ahead.

"Ryan, look at me." Ryan shook his head no, still having trouble getting his body to relax. Mark sighed and walked around to look at him. (I can't do this... I can do this... I want to do this...) "Ryan. Look." Mark reached up and tilted Ryan's face down. His own pants were still straining and he saw Ryan's eyes widen and turn quizzical.

"It's ok. I feel it too. I... Uh..." (Fuck it. It's now or never.) He slid out of his pants and stepped forward until their bodies nearly touched. "I wasn't thinking about some girl..." (Oh, god, please don't let me be misinterpreting. I don't want to die because I finally acted on urges and was wrong...) "I was thinking about you. Naked."

His body had slowly been relaxing, but seeing Mark standing there in his boxer shorts made him come to full attention again. He barely processed the words Mark was saying. All he could do was feel the heat radiating from the man in front of him. "I'm gay." He blurted out. "I'm sorry. I didn't think anyone I knew would respond to the ad, and I didn't think I'd react physically to whoever showed, and ..." He babbled, brain running amok.

Grinning, Mark closed the distance between them, pressing Ryan's cock into his abdomen. (That'll shut him up.) "I don't care." He said out loud. "I don't know what I am, but I do know that you make me hard and I want to explore this. With you." He rubbed, feeling the body against his respond. He stretched up and kissed Ryan. His lips were soft and the light brush of stubble on his face sent a zing through him. He moaned softly against those lips as his pulse thundered. (Am I doing this? Really? Ah, that's good!)

Ryan's hand had slipped between their bodies and was lightly brushing against the head if his dick. "Mmmmmm. Please." He didn't know what he was asking for, but he knew he wanted more.

The kiss took him by complete surprise and he melted into it. The body in front of hi. Was a wet dream come true and he could tell that Mark was packing serious meat. When he touched it, Mark's reaction sent waves through his own body. Mark seemed pretty inexperienced, and Ryan didn't want to lose his chance to see that whole body.

Starting at his neck, he nuzzled his way down Mark's body until he knelt in front of him. "Do you want this?" He looked up to find that intense look fixed on him again and Mark nodded.

"Please." He said again, and this time he knew what he was asking for. In one swift motion, his shorts were down and he stepped out of them. Ryan's warm, strong hand cupped him, and he moaned softly.

"You're hung!" The amazement was evident as Ryan started to stroke him. His cock was a good nine inches long and quite thick. The girlfriends he had had got off almost instantly when they saw him naked but he'd never had much pleasure from it. Now Mark knew why he never had much interest in sex... He didn't want sex with -women-. Ryan's touch was absolute pleasure. When those lips wrapped around the head of his penis he almost came instantly. "Oh, god!" He clutched at Ryan's hair as Ryan began sucking him.

Ryan worked as much of that cock into his mouth as he could, stroking his tongue along the slick skin. He used one hand to stroke, and the other clutched at Mark's ass, pulling him into a rhythm. As his jaw loosened up he was able to take more and more of that glorious meat into his mouth until his nose almost touched the patch of hair that decorated Mark's groin.

"I'm gonna cum!" Mark had never before had anyone take so much of him. Ryan's breath against his body as he thrust was almost too much. "Ryan, I'm gonna cum!" He panted and moaned as his balls tightened. Ryan made one more thrust forward and Mark felt his climax burst. He tried to pull away but Ryan held him, swallowing his sperm as fast as he produced it. When the tremors stopped, Ryan slowly backed off until he released Mark's body with a soft pop.

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