Ethan POV
Lucas stood still in front of the mirror, naked except for the white jockstrap. The light caught the sheen of the latex already drying on his chest. I told him not to move, and he listened. He likes it when I tell him what to do, when we’re both nearly naked. His eyes stayed on my reflection while I worked, sponge in one hand, bottle of liquid latex in the other.
I pressed the edge of the prosthetic into place over his collarbone and smoothed it flat. The line had to vanish into skin or the illusion would fail. Or worse, it would start to peel halfway through the night. I had it down now. Lots of practice. A good teacher helps too.
“The edges are everything,” TJ said the first time he showed me. “The eye can forgive mistakes. They even welcome them. Mistakes can make something better. But they always catch a bad transition. That’s what ruins the illusion.”
We practiced for hours when i could get away. I wanted it perfect for Lucas, and TJ is a bit of a perfectionist. The prosthetics were easy. The hard part was the free form latex, building scarring and peeling away pieces to make it look like dead skin that was just waiting to fall off.
“This part,” TJ said, “is where mistakes are your friend. You don’t want straight lines or equally spaced slashes. Perfection looks fake.”
The light hit them both. TJ worked fast, painting the latex across Josh’s stomach in neat, even cuts. Then he gestured toward his work, proving his point. “See? It’s too perfect.”
He reached for one of the slashes and began to peel it away. “Now, a slight imperfection.” His tone dropped lower, playful but controlled. Josh tensed. The latex pulled his skin with it. You could see the sting hit. TJ let go right before it came completely free, and the rubber snapped back against Josh’s stomach. Josh yelped, half in pain, half in surprise. TJ just smiled, slow and sadistic, like he enjoyed every second of teasing him.
He pressed the same strip of latex back down at a slight angle, reshaping it. It was barely different, but it changed everything.
Liam laughed from where he was leaning against the counter. “You’re such an ass.”
TJ didn’t even look at him. “And thats why you love me.”
He was right though. Recognizing that it doesn't need to be perfect was an important factor. It made the whole task easier some how. I smiled at the memory of it a i applied the white paint to Lucas. Everywhere. And i do mean everywhere. Even his hot little hole got some attention. Not that it would be on display for everyone to see. I just enjoyed doing it. And he didn't object.
The jockstrap was his idea. Our pants would stay open in front, held in place by some hidden clips. A bit of a sexual tease. But then, the whole costume was designed with that in mind. The goal was to hint at a naughtier side. The open pants were an unspoken invitation, and it worked perfectly.
His idea, not mine. And not one he said out loud. He didn't need to. I knew what it was. He was already thinking about the photo. Not in the literal sense of taking one, but in how it would look. How it would catch someone's attention and cause them to do a double take, just to make sure. How it would stay in the minds of those it really captured. The provocative scenarios one might imagine as a result.
That’s how his mind works. Everything is an image waiting to happen, something to capture through a lens. I guess that’s to be expected, considering what he does for a living. He’s got that naughty streak, the kind that rides the edge without ever stepping over it. It’s what pulled me in from the start. The idea that under all that calm, collected charm is a sexually adventurous daredevil, waiting for the right moment to break loose.
I let myself wonder what it would look like if he stopped holding back. Just once. A little more selfish. A little more reckless. When you look at some of his work, you’d never expect he was the one behind the camera. He rides the edge there too. Erotic but not pornographic. Sinful with the way he uses shadow, letting you see one person but never clearly identify the other. It makes you believe it could be anyone.
That’s the hook. The naughty story behind the photograph. The unseen face could be anyone or anywhere. A secret lover, the sweet taste of the forbidden. Something to be enjoyed in the dark to avoid getting caught. Maybe an anonymous encounter, where you don't know or care about their identity of the other man. Or could it be that you are the one that wants to remain anonymous?
He plays with public spaces too. The kind of places that suggest you want to be caught. The thrill and excitement of risking it. The rush that comes from knowing someone could see, or already is. A stairwell. A shadowed alley. The back seat of a car parked under a streetlight. You can feel the pulse of it in his work. It's something he craves, even if he wont openly admit it.
What hits me the strongest, is that it's all over his work. When the situation allows for it. An artist should be inspired by what they create, shouldn’t they? If you’re photographing something erotic and it doesn’t turn you on, what’s the point? You can claim it’s not your thing, that it’s just art, just work, so you do it anyways. But then are you really understanding the desire that drives it? or are you just putting something out there and hoping it sells.
No. he's good at it. Which means, he's inspired by it. It turns him on and it helps push him to be better. To capture more and play with different ideas and concepts. That’s what makes me think there’s more to him than he admits. That inside him, he wants to cross the line instead of riding the edge. And if that's what he want's, im all for it.
It will be fun to test him tonight. To push him a little. I saw the maze. I know exactly the path to take. The safe spots. The spots that make it possible to help him cross a line or two. I know that passage through the maze is going to be timed. But if you don't care about winning. Why does it matter? Because it tells me just how much time is available before someone will become concerned. Before someone will come looking.
Lucas POV
We took an Uber to the venue, knowing full well neither of us would be sober enough to drive home. When I saw the address on the invitation, I looked it up online. A large empty warehouse with an attached office space. I suspected we would be using the office space for the event. So imagine my surprise when I saw the entrance was actually to the warehouse.
He went all out. The parking lot was already starting to fill up. There were plenty of extra lights set up to make sure it was well-lit when everyone left. A valet service for those who didn’t want to walk.
Flanking the entrance were a pair of imposing figures dressed as dead army soldiers. One appeared as if they had taken a barrage of bullet fire, the intricate details of the costume lending it a disturbingly authentic feel. The realism was uncanny, with carefully crafted wear and tear that mirrored the harsh realities of combat. The other guard, in stark contrast, bore the marks of an explosion, with tattered clothing and artfully applied makeup creating the illusion of burns and shrapnel wounds.
As guests approached, these somber sentinels took on a more interactive role. They meticulously checked each attendee's invitation and ID with a surprising level of efficiency. Upon verification, they fitted each guest with an RFID wristband. I wondered what they were for. The soldiers, never breaking character, firmly instructed guests to keep the wristbands on throughout the night. They made it clear in a grave tone that anyone found without one would be promptly asked to leave, adding an underlying layer of order and security to the evening's mysterious proceedings. Let the mystery begin.
Stepping into the venue was like being transported into another world entirely. A significant portion of the warehouse had been cleverly walled off with curtains, creating an intimate yet expansive space for the guests. This deliberate limitation of the area enhanced the atmosphere, concentrating the energy and excitement of the partygoers.
The interior had been transformed to evoke the essence of the underworld. It was a meticulously crafted environment, with dim, moody lighting casting shadows that danced along the walls. The decorations were both lavish and ominous, with deep reds and blacks dominating the palette, suggestive of Hades' Palace itself. Flickering torches and strategically placed LED lights mimicked the flickering flames of the mythical underworld, while ethereal, smoky mists swirled at ankle height, adding to the otherworldly ambiance.
The walls were adorned with elaborate murals depicting scenes from ancient myths, each telling a story of heroes, gods, and monsters. Furniture had been placed to fit the theme, with thrones that resembled those of ancient deities and seating areas that felt like they were carved out of stone. They were placed in a way that seemed to encourage people to sit down, relax, and talk. Creating private alcoves, yet there was nothing private about it. It would give groups of people a space to call home for the night, while not isolating them from the party.
The air was filled with a subtle, incense-like fragrance, further immersing the guests in this fantastical setting. Partygoers mingled and moved as if they were characters out of legend, contributing to the illusion that they had indeed stepped into a realm that was both haunting and magnificent. A true embodiment of an underworld. But, where was the uprising?
Many of the walls were adorned with what initially appeared to be paintings, but upon closer inspection, revealed themselves to be cleverly disguised digital screens displaying dynamic artwork. These screens, seamlessly integrated into the decor. The inspiration for it was obvious. Hogwarts and the paintings that come to life. But given the Halloween nature of the event. I couldn't help but expect there would be more than a few jump scares involved.
One screen portrayed the mythical River Styx, where the water flowed gently, and the ferryman, Charon, slowly moved his boat across the river, occasionally turning his hooded head towards the partygoers as if beckoning them. Another displayed a forest scene with trees whose leaves rustled in a nonexistent breeze and shadows that seemed to move of their own accord, hinting at unseen creatures lurking within.
Another display showed the fiery realms of the underworld, where flames flickered and danced, casting a warm, eerie glow that reflected off the faces of the guests. Here, silhouettes of mythical creatures could be seen moving within the fire, adding to the feeling of an enchanted, living painting.
One particularly striking screen was set up to look like a grand hall in Hades' palace.
We looked around hoping to spot Liam, TJ, or anyone else we knew, as we moved through the space. They wern't in the crowd of early arrivals, but this was Liams event. So he was here, somewhere. We headed towards the bar, where the bartender, a striking figure dressed as a shirtless dead soldier, immediately caught our attention with his impressive physique and mock battle scars.
I asked for two mojitos, and the bartender raised an eyebrow, asking, "What kind do you want?"
I started to inquire about the options, but Ethan, with a flirtatious edge to his voice, cut in, "Surprise us." The bartender flashed a mischievous smile, his eyes playfully darting between the two of us, adding a charge of flirtatious energy. I approve. Wether it was genuine or not is another question.
"Together or separate?" he asked with that same smirk on his lips. I responded, "Together," and he directed me to tap my RFID wristband against a reader. The display lit up showing "4 drinks remaining."
Intrigued, I asked, "What happens when I run out?"
"You can always pay for more yourself," He looked us both up and down in a very obvious way before continuing. "or maybe someone will be generous enough to buy a handsome couple like you a drink."
I exchanged an amused glance with Ethan. This was going to be a fun night.
We navigated through the growing crowd around the bar and he spotted Alex and Calvin. "Come on, I want to say hi,"
He pulled me along, rather quickly, and as we approached, I saw Alex and Calvin in their full costumes, embodying their roles as mythological figures.
Calvin, as Hades, was a commanding presence. His costume was a deep, shadowy black, accented with hints of fiery red. A dark, majestic cape flowed behind him, and his makeup was subtly done to create a goth like appearance.
Alex, dressed as Poseidon, contrasted the perfect contrast. A costume of oceanic blues and greens. His trident was a work of art. It seemed to be made mostly of transparent resins. Which had the affect of making it shimmering like the sea under the party lights. His beard was dusted with silver, like sea foam, and to create the appearance of age i think.
Ethan greeted them with a warm hug. The familiarity caught me off guard. "How are you guys? Where are Blake and Chris?" he asked cheerfully.
Alex laughed. “You know how Liam loves his theatrics. They'll make their entrance together.”
I stood there, taking it all in. The way Ethan seemed to chat so easily with Liam's dads. And the various costumes around us. I wished i had my camera. But Ethan insisted i leave it behind tonight. That i was here to have fun, and not take over as the official photographers of the evening. He right. I would have tried to do just that.
Alex turned his attention towards me. "Lucas, right?" he said, his voice carrying the hint of a smile. "Good to see you again."
I was taken aback that Alex remembered my name. My interactions with him had been few and far between, mostly brief exchanges at past events. The acknowledgment caught me off guard but in a pleasant way.
"Yes, It's great to see you too," I replied, I understand why everyone likes him. What's not to like? He's good looking in a polished geek type of way. More so, he's nice to everyone around him. He doesn't fit the steriotype of corporate executive.
And then he surprised me again by asking, "How's your photography business going?" He seemed legitimately interested.
"It's going great." I replied. And not wanting it to sound like a brush off response. I elaborated. "I'm pretty consistently booked for a while. Between taking the photos, and digitally re-touching them. I stay pretty busy."
"Is Reiley and the rest of the firm utlizing your services?"
"He is." i answered. "Thank you for asking." His knowledge of my work with Reiley, only served to remind me of whay Reily said. How getting in with them has it's benefits. But now, seeing Ethans familiarity with them, makes me wonder. If the surge of business i've been experiencing in the past year is also due to Ethans proximity to them, and my proximity to him.
He continued to ask questions, and i continued to answer. Honestly, the conversation flowed easily, and I appreciated the chance to talk about my work. It was unexpected but welcome to have this chance. In the back of my mind. I couldn't help but wonder, again thanks to my conversation with Reiley, what the purpose behind it was. It could be innocent, but i wasn't so sure.
The conversation was cut short when another couple approached. The woman was elegantly dressed as Hera, the goddess of marriage, while her companion sported a minotaur costume, complete with a collar and leash that Hera held firmly. The contrast between their costumes striking, bold, and fucking amazing. Without saying a word, it spoke volumns.
Ethan, always keen on introductions, "Lucas, let me introduce you to Kaitlyn and her husband Benjamin,"
Kaitlyn's portrayal of Hera was excelent. She was both graceful and commanding. She somehow radiated elegance. A stark contrast to her husband's minotaur costume.
He has a dad bod. The good kind. One that just begs to be cuddled and has enough muscle underneath to mke you wonder. The lower half caught more attention. It was suggestive by design, a deliberate exaggeration of form. The fabric clung tight, sculpted to hint at something larger than life. An anthropomorphic shape straight out of a very adult anime. Hentai at it's best.
Together their cosumes wove the perfect story. And might even be a hint at the uprising part of the evenings theme. Is Hera, the goddess of marriage and fidelity, finally saying she's had enough of her husbands unfaithful ways and taken a play toy of her own. The stories of the greek gods are filled with contradictions. Is she playing with the idea that Marriage and Fidelity aren't the same thing? The stories are also filled with tales of conflicts among themselves.
Ethan, with a playful tone, couldn't resist commenting on the irony of it. "Isn't Hera supposed to be the goddess of marital harmony and the sanctity of marriage?"
Kaitlyn, with a sparkle in her eye, responded in kind. "Oh, Ethan," she began, her voice carrying a mix of jest and assertion, "haven't you heard? Tonight's theme is 'Underworld Uprising.' It's about breaking norms, and exploring the unexplored. Even Hera needs a night off from being the paradigm of marriage. Tonight, we're rewriting the myths, embracing the unexpected. It's all about being who or what we want, even if it's just for one night."
I had to compliment her. "Well, Goddess. I love the choice."
Then I leaned in a little with the teasing, my eyes sliding to Ethan. "Besides, how do you know she hasn’t tricked Zeus and turned him into the minotaur. She can have her fun without breaking too many rules."
Kaitlyn caught the shift instantly. Her smile turned sly as she followed my gaze. "Oh, I like him," she said, looking straight at Ethan. "This one’s a keeper."
Ethan groaned under his breath, half laughing. "He is. And you’re both enjoying this too much."
"Of course we are," Kaitlyn said, giving the leash a light tug. "That's the point."
"Here here!" came a new voice from behind us. We turned to see a man impeccably dressed as Ares, the god of war. He had silver hair and a sculpted physique that truly embodied the 'silver daddy' archetype. I found myself immediately taken by his striking presence. I knew who he was, Lance. Ethan had worked for him for years. I had seen him at a distance before, but never had the chance to actually meet him.
I reflected on my conversation with Reily again. His comments about playing their games. And the real question, what does he have to gain by doing so. I get it. I felt a newfound determination. This was more than just a social gathering; it was a rare chance to make connections, to show a bit of who I was and what I could bring to the table.
Ethan smoothly facilitated the introduction. "Lucas, this is Lance. Lance, my boyfriend Lucas,"
"I have heard a lot about you." he said as he reached for my hand.
"Good things i hope." i replied in a completely teasing way as i winked at Ethan. "It's a pleasure to meet you Lance."
"All very good things." he confirmed. "And the pleasure is mine. Let me ask you son," he continued, and I felt a momentary weakness in my knees, his use of 'son' resonating with my earlier assessment of him as the perfect 'silver daddy' or is it more appropriate to call him a 'silver fox'?
"I understand you photograph homes, models, and events, but what product?"
His question caught me slightly off-guard but also piqued my interest. It was a chance to talk about a broader aspect of my work, to showcase the versatility of my photography. Before i could answer, Lance turned his attention to Ethan, his tone polite yet assertive. "Ethan, would you mind if I borrowed Lucas here for a moment? That is if Lucas doesn’t mind talking shop for a brief moment."
Before Ethan or I could respond, Alex chimed in, a hint of caution in his voice. "Lance. We agreed, no business tonight."
Lance, however, was undeterred. "Relax, Alex, it’s not about us," he reassured with a calm demeanor. His gaze then shifted back to me, and without waiting for a response, he gestured for me to join him off to the side. I felt a mix of curiosity and that weakness in my knees again. Silver fox daddy wanted a moment alone with me, to talk business. Absolutely.
Ethan gave me an encouraging nod, and I stepped away with Lance.
We found a nearby bar top to sit at. He positioned himself quite close to me, and I must admit, his presence was somewhat intoxicating, slightly distracting me from the conversation at hand.
"You see," Lance began, his voice carrying a mix of seriousness and casual ease, "one of my spoiled children is insisting on starting a clothing line. Athletic gear, bathing suits, underwear. He has an eye for business, but he has no mind for business. I've agreed to help under... certain conditions.”
I didn't need to hear another word. I wanted to jump at the chance. This sounded awesome. I love working with people. It’s so much more exciting than photographing houses. Trying to force character where none exists. When he first mentioned products. I assumed it would be the typical, 'here's a box of stuff, find ways to make it look appealing'. I was not expecting this. And am happy i was wrong.
“No need to agree to anything tonight, of course. We would have to come up with a contract and a compensation plan. There's not worry in even going that far unless it's something you're interested in."
“It sounds great," I replied, trying to maintain a composed demeanor. Especially if there was some form of negotiation happening later. Best to not across as overly eager. I ventured a guess about his conditions. "I'm guessing one of the many conditions you have established with your son is that you have the final say?"
Lance nodded, appreciating that I was seeing the bigger picture. "Exactly. I want to approve all sets and final photos. My son may have an eye for clothing, but he has no idea how to sell it."
"Perfect," I responded. "I usually offer two choices. I have a server i can upload photos to, for review. Or we meet in person. Though i am not set on either."
Lance considered this for a moment before responding. "I think in person would be best. It will allow me to relay my thoughts directly, and we can establish a working relationship."
The way he said 'working relationship' seemed laced with an undercurrent of flirtation. I was both intrigued and a bit flustered by the implication. Lance’s offer was an exciting prospect for my career, and his personal interest added an unexpected dimension.
I pulled out my phone and showed him some of my work that i thought applied. They were more model shots. But it served its purpose of showcasing my style.
As our conversation wound down, Lance and I exchanged digital contact cards. He mentioned contacting his assistant to arrange a meeting for next week. Then, casually, he rested his hand on my wrist, which lay on the table. His thumb playfully stroked my skin, sending tingles up my spine. For a moment, I questioned the wisdom of working with him, but I quickly dismissed my doubts, echoing Riley's words in my mind: "I'll play their games."
I replied in kind. My response was laced with it's own hint of flirtation, "I'm looking forward to working with you."
I wondered if Lance noticed the choice of wording. Working with you rather than working with your son. It wasn't ment as a light towards his son. I'm sure if he is anything like his dad. I would enjoy that too.
Lance caught the nuance, responding in a seductively low tone, "As am I, with you."
Then, with a hint of reluctance, he added, "Well, as much as I would love to monopolize your time tonight, I should let you get back to Ethan. Thank you."
With that, Lance stood up and walked away, heading towards the bar. I found myself watching him leave, my eyes inadvertently following the lines of his well-sculpted body, especially his ass, as he moved through the crowd. There was an undeniable allure to his presence, one that I couldn't quite shake off. I quickly chastised myself for the lingering gaze and turned my attention back to the task at hand, finding Ethan.
I scanned the room and spotted Ethan still engaged in conversation with Alex. The two of them seemed deep in discussion, animated and lively. Shaking off the remnants of my encounter with Lance, I made my way back, ready to rejoin the festivities and share the exciting opportunity that had just presented itself. Ethan would be thrilled for me. I was eager to see what else was in store.
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