Disclaimer: I don't own CSI:Miami or NY.

WARNING: THIS IS HEAVY SLASH. NO LIKEY, NO READEY. SIMPLE AS. FLAMES WILL BE FED TO BOB'S 4 & 5!

A Thousand Words

The sun was setting on another busy New York day and the majority of the city's residents were heading home after a stressful eight hours in the office.

Down a small back street in lower Manhattan, Tim Speedle was still hard at work and had no intention on heading home for at least another few hours.

He flipped open the back of his camera and carefully withdrew the used film, slipping it into it's black case until he got chance to develop the pictures. Many photographers he knew insisted on using digital cameras for their work, but Tim was a firm believer that a film cell captured more life than a microchip.

New York's biggest publishers seemed to think the same, since Tim was never out of business and all the big designer company's sent their models to be photographed in their newest lines by him.

A small knock on the door distracted his attention away from the camera. He glanced at his watch and smiled to himself; it was almost six and his last subject of the day was stood in the hallway waiting for him.

"Door's open," he called, turning back to his camera. He heard the door open and waved his hand somewhere to the right. "Your clothes are in the back room," he muttered.

A soft, "Okay," was his only answer as the new comer followed Tim's directions and headed into the other room.

The photographer bit his lip curiously; most models he photographed were rude and thought the world revolved around them. This one seemed quiet and almost shy, it seemed a little strange.

He reached for a roll of film as he glanced at his diary. The film dropped from his fingers when he saw the name of the model; he wasn't well known to most people, only any gay man that read the biggest gay magazine in the country, and Tim certainly knew who he was.

"Where'd ya want me?" the model asked.

Tim quickly fitted the film and turned to face him. "On the bed," he instructed, taking a few breaths as he tried to maintain his dignity.

The theme for the photo shoot seemed to be school; Danny Messer was wearing a black blazer with a skull and crossbones stitched to the breast pocket, a white school shirt could just been seen peeking out from underneath. The black, white and yellow tie he was wearing around his neck swayed with his movements before settling against his naked chest.

The blonde crawled on to the double bed and leant back against the pillows. He wasn't wearing anything other than the shirt, tie and blazer and Tim tried to keep his eyes firmly glued on Danny's face rather than his cock, which was already erect and waiting to be photographed.

Tim would never admit it out loud but he had spent many a night lying in bed, naked and panting as he stroked himself with images of the centrefold model in his head; Danny was the most handsome model in the magazine and was almost always their main focus.

He had photographed many naked models, both male and female; there was the occasional time a model's appearance made part of his anatomy stir, but none of them had the same affect of him as the beautiful specimen in front of him.

Danny's soft voice snapped him of his appreciation of the model's body. "Are you okay?" Tim could hear the concern lacing his thick New York accent.

Tim blinked, trying to clear his mind and focus on the job. "I'm fine," he lied, raising the camera to his eye and focusing the lens.

Danny shrugged his shoulders. "You need to take your mind off of the subject and focus on the task."

The photographer lowered the camera and stared at his subject, who chuckled. "What? I've done enough of these photo shoots… I notice when the photographer is interested in me as more than a subject for his work." Danny stroked his cock gently, smearing pre-come around the head a little.

"You need to focus on the photo itself and not what you're taking the photo off," Danny continued. "Laying here naked in front of complete strangers, sometimes up to twenty of them, is not exactly the most relaxing or exotic of locating. I just do what I have to, to give the photographer what he wants…" he glanced down at his erection. "Then lay back, mentally balance my chequebook and wait for the flashing to stop."

Tim chuckled lightly and snapped off a few photos of Danny while he wasn't posing; he thought he might keep those photos for himself. "You seem to have this completely figured out," he murmured, moving around Danny to get a shot with better light.

The sun was setting and on the New York skyline and the dim orange of the sky through the window behind the model cast a wonderful warm glow over his skin.

Danny curled one leg, giving the camera a better view of his groin as he curled his fingers around himself; not stroking, merely holding. "I have," he agreed. "I don't wanna do this forever. I'm almost thirty-five for fuck's sake! I'm gonna have to retire soon."

Tim was a little startled at Danny's revelation of his age; he had always thought the other man to be younger than him by at least five years, not older. "So, you gonna settle down? Get married? Kids?" he asked conversationally, climbing onto the bed next to Danny.

"I hope so," the blue eyed man admitted, looking up into the camera as Tim took some overhead shots of his body. "I have to find the right man first…"

The brunette jumped a little when he felt Danny's hand on his thigh; even through the denim of his jeans, the other man's touch was electrifying. "What…?"

"You want some photos, don't you?" Danny whispered, running his hand up to Tim's hip. "Photo's of your own."

Tim licked his lips, which had suddenly gone dry. The heat from Danny's hand felt like it was burning through his skin, right to his bones.

"I…"

Danny's hand covered his and carefully pulled the camera away, setting it on the bedside table. He ran his hand up Tim's arm, over his shoulder and up his neck to bury his fingers in his curly black hair.

Tim was gently pulled down so that his chest was flush with the other man's. A gasp escaped when Danny covered his mouth with his own, running his tongue over the lower lip.

The hand that wasn't buried in Tim's hair slid down his back; his fingers stroking his spine though the thin T-shirt he was wearing, before resting on his ass.

Tim pulled his mouth from Danny's and looked into the older man's blue eyes. "Do you do this with every photographer?" he whispered, his hot breath ghosting over the other man's soft lips.

Danny laughed and Tim found his stomach flipping happily at the sound. "You're the first," he admitted, sliding his hand under the T-shirt to touch the smooth skin hidden underneath. "Yeah… the first," he whispered, kissing Tim hard once more. "Do you do this with every model?"

Tim smirked and pinned Danny's hands to the bed on either side of his head. "You're definitely the first model I've kissed," he assured him, tangling their tongues together.

Danny groaned and pressed up against Tim, trying to find more friction for his aching cock. He might have been practically naked but Tim was still completely dressed and he wanted to feel the other man's naked skin next to his.

"You're wearing too many clothes," he groaned, lacing his fingers with Tim's.

"That's because I'm not doing this here," Tim whispered against the other man's lips. "This is were I work; I'm taking you home."

Danny smiled shyly and nodded. "Where's home?" he whispered.

Tim smirked and kissed him gently. "Upstairs," he grinned widely.

As Tim locked the door to the studio, Danny hung back and grabbed the camera from the bed.

Tim looked at him questioningly as he handed it to him. "You said you wanted some pictures, right? We might as well make them interesting ones."

The second floor of the building was nothing like the downstairs. While the first floor was decorated in brilliant white, it's upstairs neighbour was decorated in pale and dark blues.

Bookcases lined each wall in the sitting room except for one, which was covered with photographs of various buildings in New York; Danny had lived in the city all his life and even he didn't recognise some of the buildings.

"Is this your personal collection?" he asked, running his fingers over a picture of a lake in Central Park; he couldn't tell exactly which one though. "I've never seen the photo's before."

Tim tossed his keys onto the sideboard before turning around and looking at Danny. The other man was standing in the middle of his living room, naked from the waist down and showing absolutely no signs of being ashamed or embarrassed about his nudity.

"I took those for myself," he agreed, stepping up behind Danny and sliding his hands around his waist. "Have you seen my work before?" he whispered, kissing the shorter man's neck.

Danny shivered when he felt Tim's hot breath on his skin. "I've been following your work for a while. I love the picture you took of the Brooklyn Bridge from Queens."

Tim turned him around and grinned when he saw Danny was blushing. "I didn't think anyone had actually seen that picture."

"It's hanging on my living room wall," Danny admitted. "That's why I asked for you to be my photographer today; I wanted to meet you."

It was Tim's turn to blush as he buried his face in Danny's shoulder. "While we're admitting things…" He took a deep breath, "I've been following your work as well for a while not."

Danny laughed and threaded his arms around Tim's neck. "Looks like we were destined to meet."

Tim grinned and kissed him hard, sliding his hands down Danny's back squeezing his ass possessively. "Bedroom," he said, nipping Danny's lower lip with his teeth.

Danny moaned and kissed Tim hard in response. Somehow Tim managed to nudge the other man in the direction of the bedroom. At the threshold Danny paused and reminded Tim about the camera.

The brunette blushed and dashed into the living room, returning with the camera. Danny watched as he pressed a few buttons before setting the camera down on the dresser where it had a perfect shot of the bed.

He grabbed Danny's tie, pulling him closer and kissing him passionately. He pushed the blazer and shirt off of his shoulders, letting them fall from his arms to the ground around his feet.

Danny quickly stripped Tim and they both fell to the bed, panting and rubbing against each other.

Their hands were all over, desperate to touch each other in as many places as possible. The only sounds in the room were their gasps and moans as Tim slid in and out of Danny's body, pushing them both to the edge and beyond.

x

Tim bit his lip in thought and pushed his glasses back up his nose. The dining room table was completely covered with photographs, except for the small space in front of him where a note pad lay, covered in Tim's almost illegible scrawl.

A pair of arms slid around his neck, making his jump a little. "What are you doing?" Danny asked, nipping his ear lobe with his teeth.

"The magazine wants your photographs tomorrow afternoon," Tim replied, pulling one photo closer and scrutinising it.

"Which ones are you going with?" Danny asked, sliding into the seat next to him and pulling a picture closer.

Tim growled and snatched the picture back, placing it back in the spot Danny took it from. "I have a system," he explained at his lover's questioning look. "I don't know which ones yet," he continued, "that's what I'm trying to figure out."

Danny stood up, looking across the table. He smiled when he spotted one of him with his back arched as Tim fucked him. "I think this one's best." He tapped his finger against the photograph.

Tim glanced at the picture in question and grinned. "I know," he agreed. "But that's for my personal collection."

The End