Title: Photo Finish
Author: Shades of Hades
Date: February, 2007
Warnings: Gay smut (no, really). It's not too explicit though (well, as not too explicit as gay sex can be while still trying hard to explain it.).
A/N: So, I was standing in photo class this morning and I was struck with the sudden thought about what fun could happen in the complete darkness of a space the size of a closet. And that spawned this idea. I really should have been a photo major... It could have been great fun.

“Wait, don't close the door yet!”
It was just my luck. I had class in less than an hour and was suppose to have film developed and here I was, standing in the hallway, having the door to the last darkroom about to slam in my face.
If it was any other person, I would feel less agitated about having to ask to use the darkroom with them, but this was CHARLES. It wasn't Charlie or Chuck, as he just HAD to remind everyone on a daily basis, it was Charles. And he was a complete bastard. I hated his guts, and I'm sure the feeling was quite mutual.
He glared at me a moment from the doorway, and I waited for him to tell me to, “Fuck off” and slam the door in my face. It never came though. I just stood there, staring at him stupidly, and he stared back with a glare.
“What do YOU want?” He finally asked me after a moment of silence, standing there tapping his foot and crossing his arms, the perfect picture of agitation.
“Well, I need to develop film, and you're about to take the last darkroom...” I stared blankly at the floor wishing it would just swallow me up.
“And you want to share, right?” He asked with a sneer.
My cheeks burned as I nodded, wondering if I should just take a dive and fail this assignment. I know I can't afford it, though. And I would never live it down from the teacher. She would just give me one of those, “I'm so disappointed in you,” looks as she lectured me. The things I do for the sake of art.
“You always wait till the last minute...” I thought for sure he was going to tell me, 'no' as he turned into the room, but instead, he said, “Just get your ass in here.”
I was so relieved I could have kissed him. If he wasn't such a bastard and male, I might have.
“Thank you so much! You have no idea how much this means to me!” I told him, running into the tiny room with him before he can change his mind. “You saved my life!”
“Whatever,” he told me with a snort as he slammed the door behind us.
I pulled my messenger bag off my shoulder and pulled out my two rolls of film and my tank. Out of the corner of my eye I could see him finishing setting up and staring at me expectantly. He didn't even wait for me to open my tank and get out the reels before he flipped the lights off in the room and we were both plunged into absolute darkness.
“What the hell?!” I glared in the general direction I thought he was in and I swear I could HEAR him smirk at me.
I fumbled around for a minute trying to get my bearings straight, ignoring the soft cloth that my fingers were for some reason continuously intent on finding. I blush, realizing he probably thought I was touching him on purpose.
“Why the hell did you turn the lights off? I can't even tell which way I'm facing!” I was beyond frustrated, and he just grabbed my arms, turning me towards my work station.
Okay, the counter was in front of me, but my fingers where still searching blindly for my plastic tank.
“You should have been quicker,” he said as his hands trailed down my arms and dropped back to his sides... Or at least I assume that's where they went. Suddenly the darkroom seemed much smaller than I remember it being. I gulped.
“That's not fair,” I tell him, closing my eyes, like that was going to help my lack of sight, “you already had your stuff set up before I even got in here.” When I opened them I sighed in defeat, realizing I would just have to search like a fool for everything. I'm sure I already looked stupid enough to him, and I really didn't want to embarrass myself more, but I was left with little choice. Next time, I was going to develop my negatives more than an hour before hand. This is ridiculous.
I had finally gotten the reels out of the tank and now my fingers were groping the resien coated counter for my film. I found it, and it skited away as my fingers drew near, the cold metal rolling across the counter.
I cursed to myself, fingers finally closing over it.
There was the noise behind me of a soft, 'pop' and I realized he had already gotten the top off of his first roll, already taking it out of the canister and loading it onto the first reel. There was the familiar creaking sound of the reel moving, the film being loaded as he moved the two ends of it.
“Damn it, why do you have to be so fast at that!” I asked in anger, really wanting nothing more than to punch in the face right now, maybe slow him down so I could catch up.
He laughed at me. “I can't help it,” he told me as the sounds of the squeaking plastic stopped and there was a soft 'clunk' as he dropped it in the tank. “I have dexterous fingers.”
I blushed, nearly dropping my film that I had somehow managed to finally get the top off, in surprise. I scrambled to get it before it fell to the floor, but I was not so lucky. It hit the floor with the 'clink' of metal hitting tile.
“Shit!” I tried to swear, but it sounded more like a muffled cry through the fabric that had somehow found it's way into my mouth.
I thought my eyes might pop out of my head as I realized EXACTLY what was in my mouth. Clothes. HIS clothes. I sputtered, pushing myself back in a hurry, only to have my head connect with the counter behind me.
He gave a soft laugh. “Having problems?” he asks with amusement thick in his voice.
“I'm fine,” I told him between clench teeth, rubbing the back of my head, still in a slight daze from the hitting it so hard, hands reaching out, trying to quickly find the missing film canister.
I leaned forward, fingers reaching out in front of me and I swear I could hear his breath hitch as my fingers once again wrapped around the cloth that seemed to be EVERYWHERE in the room.
I growled in frustration.
There was a moan as my fingers slid down the cloth.
I pulled my hand back quickly in surprise and realized the sound of film loading had stopped and the room seemed to suddenly go deathly quiet.
“What are you doing down there?” He asks me accusingly with a hiss and I feel my whole face burning, suddenly wishing that I had just chose to fail the assignment, school be damned.
“Uh,” was my only answer. Then I went on the offensive. “Well, why did you moan?” I asked him trying to copy his accusing voice, which I failed miserably at.
“Well I'm sorry, but when some pervert tries to feel me up that has the tendency to happen,” he said a-matter-of-fact-ly.
“I wasn't trying to feel you up!”
“So you say. How do I know you don't have some pent up sexual frustration towards me?” There was a deep smugness in his voice as he said this and I could only gape at him like a fish out of water.
“You're a bastard,” I finally told him after I recovered my wits, then it was quiet in the darkroom again, the only sound being the rustling of cloth.
Then I felt something wet and warm against my cheek and a weight fell on me.
“Sorry,” he told me as I was left for a second to think about what that wet sensation against my cheek was.
He didn't... He wouldn't...
“I meant to do THIS,” he said, and the warm, wetness returned this time against my lips.
He most certainly would... and most certainly did.
My brain functions stopped and I gaped at him, only realizing it too late, that I had left him with a great opportunity as his tongue slid into my mouth.
My mind shut itself off and my instincts took over, my own tongue diving into his mouth. I couldn't help myself, despite the fact that I knew it was wrong, and I knew I would regret it later, I hadn't gotten laid in such a long time, my body was begging for the attention he was showing me.
He pulled away from me and my own panting rang loud in my own ears as it echoed through the quiet little room.
“Why'd you stop?” I asked impatiently when I caught my breath, fingers grabbing empty air in vain attempts to bring him closer to me. I didn't have to try hard though, because his hands were on me, lifting my shirt up and dragging it over my head.
“Er, a little help here?” I asked, my hands stuck over my head, completely wrapped up in my shirt, helpless.
“I don't know. I kinda like you this way...” he answers me back, voice muffled against my chest as his wet lips drag along my flesh.
I sucked in a deep breath as warm fingers roamed over my nipple.
“Charles, I can't breathe,” I told him, but of course, it sounded like complete nonsense with my shirt shoved in my mouth.
His hands ran up my sides and up my arms, delicately like I had done to women in the past and I found myself annoyed with him as he pulled the shirt over my head and untangled my arms.
“You really are bastard,” I spat at him, as I felt his breath against my neck before it descended on me. “I'm not a girl you know.”
He laughed, his chest rumbling as he pressed it against me. I narrowed my eyes at him, staring into the thick darkness of the room at where I knew him to be.
“You may not be a girl,” he said after a moment, smirking against my skin, “But trust me, foreplay is a GREAT warm-up before the gay sex. It really helps the bottom to relax.”
Wait... Bottom? Gay sex? I froze at his words. Sex? My mind hadn't really thought this out before we got to this point, but here I was, kissing a guy I hated, in a room scarcely the size of my closet, and I was getting hard. But the consequences and actions that might have come of him kissing me hadn't crossed my mind before this point.
“You mean... you want me to...?” I felt faint, my face completely draining of color.
“Yep, why do you think I let you in the room with me?”
“What?!” I could barely control the sound of my voice as I stared into the darkness at him. “After you accused me of being a pervert, you have the guts to tell me you only let me in here because you thought you could try to have sex with me?”
“Well, it worked didn't it?” he asked me before he claimed my lips again, fingers working the zipper on my fly, completely distracting me from my anger.
“Do you really want me to stop?” He asked me, breath hot against my face as his fingertips trailed over my growing hardness through my underwear.
Squeezing my eyes shut at the sweet sensation, I gasped out a, “No!”
His hands left me and my eyes went wide with panic as his shirt brushed against my face, and I thought for a moment that he had stood up and was going to leave me there, but he bent down again, and I realized exactly what he was doing. Taking his clothes off.
If it wasn't for the lust that seemed to be hazing over my brain right now, I'm sure I would have been running, or at least freaking out, but as his fingers returned to stroke me, I could barely form words, let alone actions. It's been far to long since anyone besides me touched me there, and trust me, my hand was getting pretty tired.
I let out another gasp as he ran his thumb over the tip, my mind exploding with pleasure, only doubling from the thought of his hot breath that seemed to be ghosting over that area.
“Please don't tell me you're gonna make me beg, asshole,” I managed to say, growing impatient with his teasing.
He laughed, hot air blowing on my already heated flesh as he did.
I squirmed, hips trying hard to thrust into what I knew was coming.
His tongue cautiously licked and a loud moan escaped my throat.
“Someone's growing impatient,” he says, tongue darting out again.
“Of course I'm fucking impatient! I have better fucking things to do then wait for you to suck me off!” I told him harshly, remembering yet again what a bastard he had always been, and wondering why I had forgotten it just because he was trying (and succeeding) to get into my pants.
“Well, if you really feel that way,” he said, and I nearly cried when that hot breath left me, but then his hands were there instead, slipping into my pants and pulling them as low as he could down my hips while my ass was still firmly planted on the floor. “Let's get to the good bit then,” he told me cheekily and I couldn't help but thrust my hips forward as he took me into his hand, tricking my body into it so he could get my pants down further and off, ripping off my shoes in the process.
“I fucking hate you,” I growled out as he parted my legs, nerves finally bringing me back to exactly what was going to happen to me. I was NOT naïve. I knew what was going to happen, but somewhere in the back of my mind, I had been blocking that part of it out, concentrating on the pleasure I had been experiencing up to about two seconds ago. Now I was not so sure about this thing, or the way his fingers were prodding at me.
“I fucking hate you, too,” he told me with a laugh as he leaned forward to kiss me again, trying to distract me from what his fingers were doing. It was certainly a nice distraction, but it still wasn't enough for me to block out the reality of the situation.
I was about to be fucked by a guy. By CHARLES, none the less. I know college is suppose to be the time for experimentation, but honestly, you'd think I could do better. I could at least find someone I could talk to for more than five minutes without wanting to punch them. But no matter what I wished for the situation to be, there was still Charles leaning over me, tongue in my mouth, and fingers creating new sensations that I never thought could have existed.
I was saddened as he removed the fingers I was finally learning to like and spit into his hands. I blanched.
“That's fucking disgusting,” I said, realizing what he planned on doing with that spit on his hands.
“Yeah, well, trust me, you'll thank me for this in about ten seconds,” he said with that smugness I had grown familiar with.
“Yeah right,” I tell him with a laugh, trying hard to not think about the way he was moving my hips, positioning himself, “I bet it's tiny.”
He gave a soft snort as he pushed into me and I closed my eyes so tightly I saw white.
“Well I guess you should have participated more and maybe you wouldn't be so surprised now.”
He was grinning still as he kissed me, holding my hips still as he filled me, and I tried to adjust to the new sensation.
“You're still an asshole,” I told him, teeth clench with pain, his kisses not enough distraction for me.
His hand however was a wonderful distraction. I couldn't help but moan.
“That's what I thought,” he told me with a sharp laugh, finally letting go of my hips and thrusting forward.
My fingers caught hold of his arm and I tried my hardest to dig my short fingernails into it as he pulled me on his lap to change the angle, hitting just the right spot.
I panted hard, my other hand tangling in his hair, pulling it as I tried to push myself in time with his thrusts.
Needless to say, neither of us lasted long, completely caught up in the sensations our bodies were experiencing, mine for the first time, and his for the who-the-hell-knows amount of times.
I nearly screamed when I came, instead biting down hard on his bottom lip, the faintly familiar taste of blood filling my mouth, but I was too far gone to even care, just lazily licking the liquid from his mouth like a kitten lapping up milk.
I fell onto him as my muscles gave out and he gave a soft laugh as he fell back into the other counter with a 'thump', both of us enjoying the afterglow.
That, of course, was when reality came back to us both in the form of a knock at the door.
“Are you okay in there?” Came the timid voice of a girl from the other side of the door. “I thought I heard screaming, and you've been in there a long time...”
“We're fine!” Charles told her firmly, pulling out of me and getting up.
“I'm glad,” she told him in relief, then added a, “do you mind hurrying up in there? It's almost two and there's a class coming in soon.”
My eyes widened. Two? Did she say two?
“Shit!” I said as I quickly got to my feet, hitting my head on Charles's chin. “It's almost two and I didn't even get my film in the reels yet!” I was too panicked to care about the pain in my head and the pain filled sound he was creating. “What am I going to do?! We're printing today!” I held onto him and nearly sobbed into his chest. “I'm in so much trouble,” I told him, feeling suddenly completely miserable as I thought about class.
He wrapped his arm around my shoulder, and there was the familiar noise of the light switch flicking on as I was completely blinded by the bright lights.
“You could have told me before you did that, asshole,” I said as I pushed him away from me.
“Where's the fun in that?” he asked as I was blinking, trying to adjust to the light with little success. “Besides, I thought if I told you I wouldn't get to enjoy the view for as long.”
My cheeks burned as I realized I was still almost completely naked, pretty much save my socks.
It was completely different when we did it, but that's because neither of us could see what the hell we were doing, but now that the lights were on, I felt embarrassed at what had just happened, wanting nothing more than to cover up as quick as possible.
I bent down, trying to avoid looking at his body as I pulled on my pants and slipped my shirt over my head, grabbing my shoes and my bag and ripping the door open before he could say or do anything else.
“You're a bastard,” I spat out, before I dashed out the door, at least leaving with the satisfaction of knowing he was standing there butt-ass naked with the door wide open.

“Will, don't you have your negatives to print today?” It was an innocent question, but I blushed as I thought about where I had left my film. There was no way I was going to ask the bastard for my film back. Even if I did get it back, I'm pretty sure I exposed one of the rolls. I never put it into the tank before he turned the lights on. Details be damn, I would still rather do a re-shoot than ask him to give it back to me.
But the fact still remained that I was standing in front of my teacher with no film, and there was still no way in HELL I was going to tell her that the reason I don't have any is because some guy I've hated since I first met had distracted with gay sex.
I looked up into her intent gaze and I quickly looked away, trying to think of a good lie.
I couldn't think of one.
“Well, you see, I screwed up and left the developer in my tank to long and ruined my film,” I told her, hanging my head in shame. “I'll start re shooting today, I promise.”
She patted me on the back. “These things happen, don't take it so hard. I wish you would have tried to develop it sooner, though. Then at least you might have had something to print today.”
“I know,” I told her, angry for what had happened earlier in the darkroom. This whole mess was entirely that Jerk's fault. I should have just walked away when I saw him there. It's not like I have my film now anyways. At least then I would have had something more to work with. And now I didn't even have my developing tank anymore.
“I still expect you to have it printed and your next rolls developed by next week, so you better get on that.” She smiled at me and picked up her bag, ready to walk out of the room.
I had planed on stayed back for a few moments, stuck in self pity when I heard a VERY familiar voice. “Hey, Patti.” I glanced up at him.
“Oh, Charles, I haven't seen you in awhile, did you want to talk to me about something?” She stood in the door frame and he smiled at me over her shoulder, swollen lip and all.
“Oh, no, I want to talk to Will here, actually,” he tells her simply, and she looks over at me, then back to him for a moment before excusing herself from the room.
“What the hell do YOU want?” I asked harshly once the teacher was out of sight, viciously jamming my notebook back into my bag, trying to avoid looking at him.
“Well, you don't have to be so polite on my account,” he snapped back, still standing in the doorway, “I just wanted to return this to you, but I guess you're not interested. Sorry, bye.”
He turned to walk into the hallway and I rushed up to catch his arm, staring intently at the developer tank he was holding.
“Just give it back to me and we can forget anything ever happened,” I told him, and he pushed it into my hands angrily.
“Well fuck you, then,” he told me bitterly, ripping the top off of the tank and throwing it at me. “I guess you're not interested in what's inside the stupid tank then. I'll just leave.”
He started to march towards the door and I just stared down at what I was seeing in my hands as I removed the lightt rap. There was my film, not damaged, developed, and dry.
A dopey grin spread across my face.
“You didn't really..?” I trailed off, looking up to see him blushing sheepishly at me from the doorway.
“I felt bad,” he grumbled, staring at the floor.
“You saved my ass!” I tell him simply as I throw myself towards him in a big hug. “I could never thank you enough!”
He laughs and wraps his arms around me too, resting his chin on my shoulder.
“Well, if you feel that way, then maybe you could make me a print of picture three,” he whispers in my ear with a wide grin, and I feel all the blood drain from my face.
Picture number three... ?
“You're a bastard,” I tell him for the umpteenth time today.
He puts on his best face of innocence (which is really far from) and tries hard not to grin at me.
“I don't know what you're talking about, I love that picture for it's artistic quality, not because you're naked.”
“I really do fucking hate you,” I tell him firmly as I bring my lips to meet his.

A/N: This storie really got away from me. I thought it was just going to be a short little smutty thing, then that thing called plot reared it's ugly head. Next thing I know, it's only semi-smutty and seven pages. Damn, where did I go wrong? O.o Of course, since it's not too smutty, I can take a chance of actually posting this somewhere. Yay! (Oh, and yes, he was taking naked pictures of himself. :P I use to have a roommate that was in photo that liked to do that.)