Blaine hummed slightly to himself as he fixed the light fixtures in the studio. He had been preparing everything for his shoot with extra care, as this was his first major photo shoot. Sure, he’d done catalogs for commercial stores and had even been granted the honor of photographing a Givenchy runway, but today, he was photographing for Dries Van Noten attire for their website.

To say he was nervous would be an understatement.

Pulling slightly at the collar of his striped button down, he stepped away from the set, admiring the vintage car and forest-like backdrop. The crew hired by Noten was most definitely top notch.

Upbeat music filled the large studio, and Blaine felt his nerves slowly ebb away as he danced slightly toward his table filled with equipment. Picking up his camera, he let his shoulders do a slight shimmy to the music, careful not to drop the equipment.

“My, my, Blaine. I never knew you wanted to be a dancer as well,” said a voice as soft hands grabbed the arm not holding the camera and spun him in a mock-twirl.

Blaine laughed as he stepped away from his assistant , Santana. He put down the camera before giving her a mock salute. “It’s one of my passions, didn’t you know, Satan?”

“God, Blaine. Can you get any gayer?” she rolled her eyes as she made her way around the table and sat in front of the Mac hooked up to the camera. She grabbed the camera and began taking test shots before fiddling with the computer.

“I don’t know if that’s a challenge, but if it is, consider is accepted,” Blaine replied as more crew members began filing in.

Soon, conversations filled the room, and before long, Blaine was called over and his first models were on set.

There were two men at first, one with blonde, shaggy hair and another with light brown hair. Blaine couldn’t help but notice the looks sent his way by the brunette and he fought down a shiver.

“Hello, boys,” Blaine greeted cheerfully. The two greeted him enthusiastically and shook his hand. “My name’s Blaine Anderson, and, obviously, I’ll be shooting you guys today.”

“I’m Jeff,” said the blonde. He was wearing a white shirt with a long black and brown striped coat and black pants, which Blaine thought looked a little ridiculous, but Blaine’s job was to photograph, not judge the outfits.

“Kurt,” said the other, who wore a black long sleeve and shorts with a similar pattern to Jeff’s coat. Blaine pretended not to notice his obvious leering, and he definitely ignored the sudden dryness in his throat.

“Well, let’s start, shall we?” Blaine cleared his throat and gestured the two to the set. “I want to start with both of you on the outside of the car, and Kurt, could you perhaps lay on the hood?”

The next ten minutes were spent with Jeff and Kurt familiarizing and making themselves with the set and with Blaine pretending to ignore Kurt’s looks and Santana’s eyebrow arch.

“Jeff, could you sit down with your shoulder against the- yes, like that! Extend your leg, perfect!”

Click.

“Kurt could you go inside the car? Okay, now put your back against the door and let your head roll back and try looking in my general direction?”

When Blaine looked back through the lens, all he could see was Kurt giving him the sexiest eyes ever and it was all Blaine could do to not drop his camera and drag the man down on the back seat of the car.

“Okay, boys. You guys can go to your next outfit change while we change the set and bring out the other models.”

Jeff came over and patted Blaine’s arm, as if to say “thank you.” Blaine smiled at him and watched him go, before turning around-

Only to be face to face with Kurt’s smirk and blue eyes.

“Blaine, you said your name was?” was all Kurt said.

Blaine could only let out what was a squeak before nodding. “You’re a very good model, Kurt,” Blaine supplied.

Kurt dragged his eyes slowly down Blaine’s body before meeting Blaine’s hazel eyes again. “I’d be glad to show you just how I learned to use my body,” he said. He put a hand on Blaine’s forearm and gave a squeeze before heading away.

Blaine tried not to stare at Kurt’s backside when he walked away, but only when Santana’s smirking face came into view did he realize he was staring.

“Boy, he so wants to tap this,” she said, leaning over to pinch Blaine’s ass teasingly.

“Santana, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to tap that as well.”