Framed Sunset

- Frame Three -

Kageyama's good mood didn't last. Tooru Oikawa, a famous, well-loved male model, was seconds away from getting plastic surgery done to fix a broken nose. He was being weird today, his uncharacteristic kindness the blaring calm before the storm. Kageyama couldn't believe it had taken Oikawa only ten minutes to have Kageyama going completely insane - an impressive time even for 'Shittykawa.'

    The second Kageyama came in, with Kiyoko keeping one arm around his shoulders to prevent the photographer from running, Kageyama could tell something was up. He left the social stuff to Kiyoko, staying quiet and keeping to himself while his manager greeted the staff from Kelvin Clain.

    Well, that'd been the plan.

    "Oh, Tobio~" Oikawa cooed, looking disgustingly attractive. His chocolate hair was accentuated by subtle violet highlights (which he had since before they met), and the splash of sparkly eyeshadow around his cunning, brown-pink eyes drew others' attention like a moth to an obnoxious, annoying flame. "Don't you want to have a chat with me before we start?"

    "Oh, fu--" Kageyama saw Kiyoko out of the corner of his eye, "--just... No. You do your job, I'll do mine, Oikawa."

    "Just make sure you do well!" He sneered in return. The older man shifted his weight to one hip, left hand resting on his side while he stared at the fingernails on his right. "Though I know our little prodigious Tobio never makes a mistake."

    Kageyama watched as Oikawa turned away and walked towards his stylists who were making some finishing touches. Despite having a terrible relationship, Oikawa always managed to be one of the people Kageyama could talk to. He wasn't anxious around Oikawa - though he figured it was because his brain was busy being annoyed, leaving no energy for him to worry. His comfortability with Oikawa didn't mean friendship or comradery, no way, it just proved that he hated Oikawa enough to ignore everything else going on in his mind.

Sighing, the photographer got moving as well, heading for the tripod set up for him. He began tinkering with the camera until it was to where he was comfortable. Kiyoko approached while he was fiddling with settings, the manager handing him a slip of paper.

"They're requesting that you take some medium-long shots," she explained, "angle's either level or low; up to you. The darkroom and design stages aren't our jurisdictions for this job."

"Theme?" Kageyama asked, and despite it being one word, Kiyoko could hear the difference from his normal tone. With a camera in hand, Kageyama became someone else. Someone confident with all the right ideas in his head and the drive to see those ideas come to life.

"They just want to show off their new collection, Kags," Kiyoko sighed, "So... Make Oikawa look good."

He huffed, glancing at the paper she'd handed him. It was an itinerary, but he couldn't care less - Kageyama was probably going to take photos until he collapsed or the camera died; whichever came first.

---

    "Last one Shittykawa; turn slightly to your left, flex a bit, more to the left - too far - don't look at the camera, eyes slightly above," Kageyama directed, he wasn't being commanding per se, but he wasn't exactly being nice either.

    "If you wanted me to look at you, you could've just said so Kags," He mocked, staring directly into Kageyama's eyes, causing the latter to roll them into the next century. "Is that you blushing Kageyama? You know you could at least be a little more subtle, this is a professional environment after all."

    That was it, Kageyama had reached his breaking point. He stood up and threw his arms in the air, his camera hanging from the strap around his neck. "Okay!" He clapped his hands together. "I'm finished, I just need to get them compiled and then send them off," he hissed to himself. He gave Kiyoko a look of 'please oh god let it be over, I need to get away from him please.' His manager caved, going to speak with the Kelvin Clain staff to notify them that he was done for the day. Kageyama headed over to the computer and plugged his camera in, moving the image files to the designated folder.

    Finally, a moment of peace. Kageyama checked the time, patting himself on the back for dealing with Oikawa for a whopping three and a half hours without any broken bones or bruises.

    "Damn Tobi, you really know how to make me look good. I'm honestly jealous, my usual team is being put to shame. If only you weren't an asshole, right Tobi?"

    Being startled at the sudden voice behind him, Kageyama sighed and massaged his temples. "Don't call me that. I'm just doing my job, so let me do that. Oh, and the asshole here is you, Shittykawa."

For a moment, the two of them just glared at each other while the files were transferring. Oikawa remained a step behind Kageyama, smirking like he'd won an unknown competition while the younger of the two stuck to glaring.

    Then, someone approached.

    "Um, excuse me... You're Kageyama, right?"

    The photographer froze. The woman in front of him was tiny in stature and height, but her presence felt like a thousand pounds pressing down on Kageyama from every angle. His throat seized, his entire body locking up as he stared at the woman. She was ranting about her appreciation for his work, filling the awkward silence, but it was only a matter of time before she realized that she'd turned Kageyama to stone.

    "Why yes, this is that Kageyama!" Oikawa suddenly jumped in. To Kageyama's surprise, the model planted himself between the photographer and the stranger - one of the stylists. "Look, you can see some of the pictures he took on the computer. Shame he's leaving already, right?"

    The woman, with her attention pulled from Kageyama, wandered closer to the computer. She started scrolling through the photos of Oikawa in his underwear (a perfect distraction, really), which gave Kageyama the chance he needed to unplug his camera and flee from the pressing fear that socializing brought out in him.

    Oh - he didn't flee alone.

    "Aren't I the best saviour, Tobio?" Oikawa mocked. The model followed the escaping Kageyama into the hallway, Oikawa clad in a robe and underwear alone. "I think this calls for a little favour."

    Kageyama, who was barely breathing properly after being ambushed by a mess of anxiety, panted for breath. He was just getting it under control when Oikawa decided to spring the next little bit on him.

    "There's this girl I have a thing for, and she's been talking about getting professional photos done for herself. So, being the great guy I am, I'm going to get her a private photoshoot with one hell of a photographer."

    "Eat a dick, Oikawa."

    "Been there, done that," he grumbled, the model's wicked grin making Kageyama shudder, "and I already mentioned it to your manager, so I'll be seeing you soon, Tobio dear."

    I really hate you, Shittykawa... But you did just save my ass. Ugh, why'd you have to be such an asshole about it though? Does this guy really have no ounce of kindness in him? Probably not. I bet he's also stupid. All of his brainpower goes into maintaining his stupid pretty face and dumb hot body.

    Kageyama continued to grumble to himself, scrunching up his nose. The photographer glared at Oikawa one last time, holding back from flipping someone the bird in a workplace. He went back up to his manager who already had all of his stuff together and was waiting for him at the door. He bowed, took his bag from Kiyoko, and slung it over his shoulders.

    "So... Oikawa came to me with an even more personal request."

    "Well aware, Yoko."

    "...At least it pays well?"

    "That motherfucker..."