Sherlock is a photographer for a fashion magazine famed for getting a rise out of his clients - ie. behind the camera he talks dirty to the models to get a reaction out of them, does all sort of provocative, near-illegal things to get the shot he wants (Lestrade, the art director, nearly fired him for bringing an actual human skull to the shoot, what the hell), but off-camera he's rude, arrogant and dismissive; etc. John is a male model past his peak who's recently been injured, leaving a horrible scar on his shoulder, and he's forced to work with Sherlock on an ad campaign or something. AND THERE IS A LOT OF SEXUAL TENSION AND SHERLOCK GETTING JOHN RILED UP WHILE HE'S BEING PHOTOGRAPHED AND EVENTUALLY LOTS OF DIRTY SEX ON SET ONCE EVERYONE'S GONE HOME.
minifill part 5b
anonymous
August 19 2011, 15:23:01 UTC
John sipped his tea. “So you’re not a photographer yourself?” he said to Sally.
“I’ve done a couple of minor shoots,” she said. “Learning the ropes, building my portfolio. But it’s not easy to make your mark, working with Sherlock.”
"He is a bit of an odd one," said John
"He's a freak," said Sally. "But he notices everything."
“John,” said Sherlock. “Come here, I want to try something new.”
John put down his cup and went to stand in the middle of the muddy tarpaulin.
“On one knee,” said Sherlock. “Look up at me. No, round more. Now stare at me. Angry. No, angry, angry,” he put down the camera. “What are you doing
( ... )
Lunch was a muted affair. John had a small salad and spent most of his time chatting to the stylists. Sally and Lestrade shared some Dim Sum. Sherlock never ate while he was working and alternated between moodily checking his phone for messages and biting a thumb nail
( ... )
Sherlock flung the contents of the bucket over John. A wall of water hit him square across the face and chest, snapping his head to one side with the shock of the impact. Water cascaded from his shoulders turning the stage into a pool of rusty red mud, covered in floating patches of irridescent oil.
There was a moments stillness punctuated only by the clicking of the shutter button of Sally's camera before John shook his head and quietly and quite deliberately said:
“Fuck.”
“Sorry,” said Sally biting her lip.
“Keep shooting,” said Sherlock.
“Fucking fuck.“Excellent,” said Sherlock. “Shock, dawning anger. Are you getting this Sally
( ... )
It took John half an hour to rinse all the clay from his hair and body and when he returned clean and a little damp to the studio all was in dimness and the sound of a single plaintive violin wound its way from the speakers
( ... )
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“I’ve done a couple of minor shoots,” she said. “Learning the ropes, building my portfolio. But it’s not easy to make your mark, working with Sherlock.”
"He is a bit of an odd one," said John
"He's a freak," said Sally. "But he notices everything."
“John,” said Sherlock. “Come here, I want to try something new.”
John put down his cup and went to stand in the middle of the muddy tarpaulin.
“On one knee,” said Sherlock. “Look up at me. No, round more. Now stare at me. Angry. No, angry, angry,” he put down the camera. “What are you doing ( ... )
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(Not even fibreglass ones!)
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F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5 F5
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There was a moments stillness punctuated only by the clicking of the shutter button of Sally's camera before John shook his head and quietly and quite deliberately said:
“Fuck.”
“Sorry,” said Sally biting her lip.
“Keep shooting,” said Sherlock.
“Fucking fuck.“Excellent,” said Sherlock. “Shock, dawning anger. Are you getting this Sally ( ... )
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Sexytiems, yes?
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