Chapter 26 #2
The studio space Bianca usually rents out for her photography business is in the loft of a converted warehouse.
It’s got huge skylight windows, and is big enough to have a little seating area and a sectioned-off dressing room space.
Bianca shows it off proudly to the two of them, gesturing to the plain black backdrop surrounded by various free-standing lights.
“I want everything to look as natural as possible,” she explains, “but it’s still kinda cloudy today so we might need a boost.”
“It looks perfect,” Nick assures her. “I trust you two with the artistic vision. I’m just the idiot who wants to make a splash.”
“You’re not an idiot,” Sofia insists. “Well, you are, but not for this. You’re a goddamn inspiration, Nick.”
He glares at her. “Don’t you start with that or I will cry and it will be your problem.”
Sofia laughs, dancing across the loft to lean up and kiss his cheek. “It’s okay, honey. You’re pretty when you cry.”
“This is really cool,” Sunny murmurs, looking around the studio. The poor kid still looks nervous, but there’s a smile on his face now. “How many players did you get for it?”
“With you, there’s eight of us in total,” Nick tells him, puffing up in pride.
“You’ve already had a couple guys through here, right, Sof?
” He knows for sure that Julian Statler on the Monarchs did his shoot a couple days ago.
When Nick had seen him briefly as they left their own practice earlier that morning, he hadn’t been able to look Nick in the eye.
Truthfully, Nick had expected him to bail.
“I have. I’ll show you the pictures later,” she confirms. “And the others are all booked in to be done before playoffs start.”
Sunny gives a low whistle. “That’s amazing. I never thought so many would be willing to take this kinda risk.”
“Turns out Trix here is quite the sweet-talker,” Bianca teases, and both men laugh at Sofia’s exaggerated face of disgust. “All those boys had a lot of nice things to say about him.” She wiggles her eyebrows, and Nick reels back with a playful gasp.
“Bianca, are you calling me a slut?”
“Nope!” Sofia says loudly. “I am way too gay for the direction this conversation is taking.” She glares first at her girlfriend, then at Nick. “Now take your shoes and shirt off.”
“Mixed messages, much?” Nick grumbles lightly, even as he reaches for the back of his collar.
Back when he’d had the seed of the idea, Nick hadn’t been sure how well it would work.
But he couldn’t stop thinking about the pictures Lindsay had sent from Argentina, of rainbows of light stretching across bare skin.
He wants something like that, something striking.
Something more than just holding up a rainbow flag and calling it a day.
Nick wants to make a statement.
And luckily, Sofia was right on board, taking that idea seed and growing a whole damn garden.
He stands as still as possible while she carefully brushes paint across his arms and torso, striping the colors together carefully: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple.
A Pride flag, his pride, on his body for all to see.
Sofia works quickly, somehow knowing exactly when to stop. When she sits back and eyes him over with a satisfied nod, Bianca gestures to a mirror propped against the wall for him to go and see for himself.
Nick can’t breathe. He’s used to seeing color on his body in the form of his tattoos, but this is so different.
Sofia’s painted rainbows curve around his biceps, arching across the knuckles of his left hand, curving over his back and shoulders and sweeping neatly across his belly right to the waistband of his jeans.
They all look like they were done with singular broad strokes, six colors somehow on the same brush, and even though there’s no real pattern to them they all seem to be stretching slightly towards his heart.
It’s as if that’s what his skin looks like beneath the first layer; that though he looks the same on the outside, this has always been him on the inside.
It’s perfect.
“Sof,” he breathes, emotion welling up abruptly. “God.”
“This what you wanted?” she checks, looking a little emotional herself.
“If I weren’t covered in paint, I’d hug you,” Nick tells her, watching as she grins until her cheeks dimple.
She finishes up with some product in his hair and the lightest touch of makeup on his face, then nods in satisfaction.
“He’s all ready for you, baby,” she declares, twisting in her seat to give her girlfriend a thumbs-up. Bianca beams, rocking on her toes as she beckons Nick to her photo set-up.
It’s not the first photoshoot he’s done. It’s not even the thousandth, probably. But it’s the first where it’s not about making Nick look like someone else: someone strong and masculine and suave; a panty-dropper; the ultimate man’s man.
All Bianca wants is for him to look like himself, and somehow that is harder than any shoot he’s ever done.
“You’re still eye-fucking the camera too much, Nick,” she sighs. “We’re trying to show that sexuality isn’t inherently sexual, remember?”
“I can’t help it!” he whines. “I see a camera, I make the eyes. It’s how I’ve worked for years.”
“Then pretend the camera isn’t there,” Bianca tells him. “Just relax. Your poses are great. You know you look hot. Just quit doing that thing with your face.”
“I’ll show you a thing with my face,” he mutters petulantly, sticking his tongue out at her. The shutter clicks, and she laughs.
“Not quite what I meant, jerk. C’mon, you can do this.” She hums in thought, then brightens. “I know! Think of Matt. What’s he doing right now?”
Automatically, Nick’s smile softens. “They’re playing in Albuquerque tomorrow, so today he’s just travelling, getting ready, all that jazz. He has no idea I’m doing this.”
“Wait, you didn’t tell him?” Bianca goggles.
Chuckling, Nick shakes his head. “I don’t want him thinking he pressured me into coming out or whatever.
He’s been so great about letting me set the boundaries, but, like, I’m not getting any less gay, and hiding an actual relationship is fucking stressful, so …
might as well take the leap, right?” The decision was made before they reunited, but if anything, knowing Matt loves him has just made Nick even more determined to do this.
He’s ready to stop living in his own shadow.
“I’m going to barf,” Sofia calls out dramatically, busy painting strokes of pink and yellow and blue onto Sunny’s bare shoulders. “Is he always this sappy?”
“Pretty much,” Sunny confirms. “It’s kinda sweet to watch. Like, they fuckin’ gravitate towards each other, y’know?”
Nick hopes his foundation is enough to cover his blushing.
“I didn’t expect to meet a guy like him,” he says.
“Especially not while I’m still playing.
But I guess it’s true what they say about love finding you when you least expect it.
” He sure as hell hadn’t been prepared for it, but Matt swept him off his feet and Nick just kept on falling.
“There!” Bianca exclaims. “That’s the shot. I got it.”
“Wait, what?” Nick had been so lost in thought, he’d totally tuned out the sound of the camera going. She grins innocently, holding up her camera.
“Come look.”
Nick follows Bianca to where she plugs the camera into her laptop, leaning over her shoulder while she brings up the photos. There are dozens of them, from all kinds of angles. In most of them he can see that his smile looks too fake, too seductive.
But Bianca keeps scrolling, and Nick sees when she started taking pictures without him paying attention. Some of them are blurry, his body mid-movement or his mouth open while he talks, but between them he looks…
He looks like a lovestruck fool, in the best kind of way.
“Jesus,” he mutters under his breath, studying his own face. He’s never seen himself like that, his eyes glowing with love and his smile soft and fond at the corners. He looks relaxed, at peace. Comfortable.
Bianca giggles, scrolling through a few more.
There’s one Nick likes, even though they won’t be able to use it, of him grinning and flipping off Sofia out of shot with his rainbow-painted left hand.
He’ll find something else to use that one for.
Instagram, maybe, when the inevitable homophobes pop up.
But the very last one, of him looking just past the camera, the faintest pink tint to his cheeks and the affection practically dripping from his every pore as he smiles—yeah, Bianca’s right. They got the shot.
“It’s good, right?” Bianca murmurs, glancing up at him. “With a little editing I can get the colors to really pop.”
Nick leans down and kisses her dark hair. “You’re a genius, Bee.”
He’s weirdly sad to wipe the paint off. It looks right, in a way he can’t explain.
Maybe it’s time to think about getting another tattoo.