Art History Lesson
[ dm/vm . dedicated to Mcee and Rachel ] PG
Viggo watches Dominic undress on the other side of the room through the viewfinder of his Nikon. He adjusts the aperture, presses the button, and there's a tiny 'shick' to the shutter as the inside of the camera goes dark for a moment, only reopening to reveal the arched curve of Dominic's spine moving beneath skin and muscle. Viggo smiles a hidden smile, his thumb pressing against the film advance knob. There's the slightest bit of resistance before the frame gives away, pulled into the dark bowels of the camera - away from the shutter - and Viggo secretly longs for the moment when the image will come up - black and white and shades of gray - beneath the orange light of his darkroom. Just himself and chemistry and the sway of Dominic's lithe back.
"Come to bed, Viggo," Dominic says quietly, looking over his shoulder in the pinkish light of the room. His hand lingers on the dresser, where he's just placed his watch and two of his rings. The one on his thumb stays on. Viggo doesn't say anything, just pulls the camera away from his eye for a moment, in order to study Dominic without a lens or film or fine focus in the way. His skin tone in this light makes Viggo think of Modigliani, the lines of Dominic's body are like art nouveau and the perfection of it all is like Michealangelo, with his Sistine Chapel and his dying slaves. Viggo likes the way the whole of Dominic is like a survey of the history of art - beauty and form and passion, mingled with divine inspiration. Dominic smiles.
Viggo watches as Dominic pads over across the room, his bare feet making a familiar noise on the floor - his chest bare and his jeans slung low on his hips, where Viggo can see faint marks left from his fingers the night before. Acting on pure instinct, Viggo raises the camera again without thinking, and before he realizes, it's focus, shutter, shick, advance.
When the inside of the Nikon flickers bright again, Dominic's face - blurred and close - fills the frame. "Come to bed," Dominic says again, even softer this time. His hands close around Viggo's, pulling at the camera, at its cool black metal. He pulls it away, out of Viggo's hands and Viggo lets him.
"Forget about art for a while," Dominic says, a smile ghosting across the abstract bow of his lips. Impossible, Viggo thinks to himself, but then suddenly, it's Dominic kissing him. "Forget the lot," he says, murmuring the words into the hollow of Viggo's mouth.
