Cover

"I can't believe you picked that one for your cover shot." Casey tossed the magazine down onto the kitchen counter and shook his head. "I'm never letting you near my camera again."

"You're just mad that I didn't choose your 'ode to moody lighting' shot." Zeke leaned across the counter and stole a piece of the orange Casey had peeled.

"Get your own food." Casey thunked Zeke's fingers with the flat of a knife. "I've got a meeting at the Tildeford Gallery in 45. If I don't eat now I might starve to death before I claw my way out of there."

"I told you to blow it off, Case. The man's office is probably full of those pictures of kids with big heads. He wouldn't know good art if it fell on him."

"It's not him, dahling," Casey drawled as he cleared away the orange peels. "It's who he knows."

"Selling your soul, are you?" Zeke tossed back with a purposely bad British accent.

"Only renting," Casey sang back, tossing off his clothing as he headed towards the bedroom. Zeke followed, half annoyed at the clutter, half enjoying the view.

"You can't do it," Zeke called into the bathroom as he peeled off his own clothing, setting it aside neatly, partly out of habit, partly because it annoyed Casey.

"Do what?" Casey demanded, leaning out of the bathroom, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He raised his eyebrow at Zeke's lack of attire, then ducked back into the bathroom to spit.

"Rent something you don't own," Zeke continued the conversation while Casey emerged again wearing only socks and briefs.

"You're suggesting I've already sold my soul... where are my Pradas, damnit!"

Casey, bent over, rummaging in the closet... Zeke was a man who recognized opportunity when he saw it. He crept up silently in bare feet... reached out... and grabbed.

"Fuck!" Casey swore, almost falling into the closet and landing on his head - still without his Pradas. Luckily Zeke had a firm grip.

"I always said you were smart," Zeke agreed, using that grip to pull Casey out of the closet and propel him onto the unmade bed.

"Tildeford, remember? Snooty art gallery full of people who buy pretty pictures for obscene amounts of money. Good thing."

"Mainstream. Selling out. Bad thing." Zeke crawled onto the bed and straddled his lover, fully aware that he'd been in the same position only a few hours ago.

"You making a counter offer?" Casey lifted his hips slightly and let Zeke know he was interested.

"Ever heard of Preswyck's?. Seems the owner is an avid reader of a certain glossy business magazine. He stopped by my table at lunch yesterday to ask if I had an inside track to the photographer who did my cover." Zeke grinned down at Casey who was caught between wanting to call Preswyck and wanting to stay right where he was and show his appreciation. Zeke lowered himself slightly so his lower body was pressed firmly against Casey's.

"I'll call him later. And Tildeford. Unavoidable circumstances." Casey reached out and took hold of one of those unavoidable things. Zeke grinned and dropped fully onto him before sliding off to one side.

"Damn! I'll make a businessman out of you yet," Zeke laughed as Casey dismissed that idea with a snort, all the while working his way down Zeke's body. He reached his destination and set about proving to Zeke that he had already mastered some very important skills of his own...

"You gonna set up a dinner thing?" Casey asked later when they were back in the kitchen again, scrounging for food.

"The usual? Or do you want Crispy's for a change?" Zeke sniffed at the milk and cringed. He knew Casey didn't want a housekeeper, but this was getting ridiculous. He set the milk aside for disposal and reached for the takeout menus.

"The usual is nice, but Crispy's is hot right now." Casey considered, pointing to the menu from the local Italian restaurant. "Can you get us in?"

"Of course. Next Friday?" He reached for the phone while Casey nodded in the background. Food ordered, he turned to find Casey studying Zeke's magazine cover photo.

"It's not bad," Casey conceded when he was settled into Zeke's arms, his back against Zeke's bare chest. He looked up and grinned. "If only your hair wasn't sticking up."

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