Nb model Steve? Maybe Billy is a photographer who's known for his artsy and alternative photos and Steve is an up and coming model who has to deal with a lot of misgendering in the industry? But Billy is one of the first photographers who really respects their pronouns and what he's comfortable wearing
Steve didn’t know what to expect when they got on location.
They loved being a model, felt so comfortable in front of a camera, had even gotten to do some runway work for New York Fashion Week this year.
But the issue, is that they only get work as a male model, where they’re expected to be hyper masculine and all macho.
But their agent had gotten them this shoot, promised that it wouldn’t be like the last one, or the one before that, or the one before that.
They took a deep breath before entering the building.
“Hi, Steve Harrington, checking in.” The woman smiled at them, tapping on her phone.
“Great, let’s take you through to hair and makeup. Mr. Hargrove will want to speak with you before you begin.” She led Steve through to the warehouse.
Steve had never worked with Billy Hargrove before, but his name preceded him. He was known for beautiful shoots with models way beyond Steve’s recognition and caliber. Shooting campaigns for high end designers.
“So, I was never informed what campaign this is for.”
“This is for Mr. Hargrove’s personal portfolio. He chooses to freelance various projects he believes in.”
“Wait so, this is like, just for him?” She pulled Steve aside.
“He’s putting together an art book, but do not tell anyone you heard that. He’s going to announce it in a few months. Limited run, all that. You’ll be getting a share. He feels paying models is extremely important.” Steve just nodded, they’re eyes big.
“Sorry, how did I end up on this project?”
“Oh, Mr. Hargrove is a fan of your work. Asked for you by name.”
Steve was in hair and make up now, being ushered into a tall chair. The woman, probably Mr. Hargrove’s assistant, took off again.
Steve closed their eyes, figured they would be getting a light foundation, maybe some contour to sharpen their jaw, that kinda thing.
They zoned out, just let the makeup artists do their work.
“Steve Harrington. Good to meet you.” Steve opened their eyes, was met with The Billy Hargrove.
“Mr. Hargrove, it’s an honor to meet you. I’ve a very big fan of your work, especially on the most recent Dior campaign, those images were beautiful.”
“Oh, call me Billy. And I loved your work with Jonathan Byers. I think that was about three years ago, now? I’ve been trying to make arrangements to work with you since those were published.”
Steve furrowed their brows. Those pictures featured Steve in a lot of makeup, and lingerie in most of them. Billy was studying their face.
“Have you done their hair yet?” Steve’s eyes were wide.
That was the first time they hadn’t been misgendered on a job.
“If you can make it look like they just have it now, I like the kinda of, wild thing that’s happening. And maybe make the gold a little bolder. I really like the look.”
Steve hadn’t washed their hair in a few days, usually the hair artists would wash it before they began anyway.
Billy smiled at them one last time before leaving again, and Steve got a look at themself in the mirror.
Their eye makeup was a pretty ballet pink, gold glitter packed onto their eyelids. Their face was contoured to look feminine, the way the did their own makeup.
When they finished with hair and makeup, they met Billy in wardrobe.
He was flicking through a rack of clothes.
“Hey! You look great.” Steve flushed.
“So, what are you comfortable in? I’m looking to explore humanity in all forms. I’m working with artists that inspire me through their realities. You’re pretty much the top of that list.”
“Wait, I’m not following.”
“Your gender identity and expression, the way you wear your body in the most authentic way possible. I’ve seen your work. Those images with Byers are so beautiful, so much moreso than anything else I’ve seen of yours. Your confidence exuded through the image more than anything I’ve ever seen. It was inspiring.”
“So, you’re gonna let me do this my way?”
“Of course. I’m showcasing you, whatever that means.” Steve nodded at him once.
They began rifling through the clothes, making a pile of things they liked, what they thought would look good with the makeup.
“And I’m pretty much comfortable with anything.” Billy raised one eyebrow.
“Could that cause you any dysphoria, though?” Steve blinked at him.
“Jesus, that’s the first time I’ve ever been asked that on a shoot.” Billy’s smile slipped.
“Seriously?” Steve shrugged. “Not even with Byers?”
“Well, I mean, that doesn’t count. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and I was just getting into modelling, and him into photography, so that was kind of to build up both of our portfolios at the time. I did my own hair, makeup and costuming.” Billy raised one eyebrow.
“But apart from working with a close friend, you’ve never been asked about dysphoria.” Billy said it as a statement, like he was trying to wrap his head around the idea.
“And it’s funny, because I usually get dysphoric in menswear shoots, but most people hire me as a male model.”
“Jesus, I’m sorry, Steve.” They shrugged.
“It is what it is. Not a lot of gender noncomforming or just straight up not cis models in the mainstream. There’s a few, don’t get me wrong, but not many, and very few household names. I just figured I need to be versatile for now, and eventually, I’ll have enough of career I can start making demands. Taking up space.”
“Still, it sucks that you gotta pick and choose like that. You should be able to just, do what you want.”
“That’s easy to say, mister photographer.” Billy smiled bashfully. “Look, thank you for taking time to research me and know what I’m all about. This experience has already been a lot better than most of my other shoots.” Billy clapped them on the shoulder.
“Hey, you’re my muse. I’m just excited to be working with you. I’ll leave you to get changed, we’ve got some wardrobe assistants standing by if you need help.” He swept out of the curtained off area.
Steve decided to begin with a light blue slip dress, matching silk panties.
They had help getting into the gold chunky heels, and made a bit of a show of walking those few feet to set.
Billy was staring darkly.
“You look beautiful.” Steve grinned at him, taking a seat on the white settee.
Billy was very easy to work with.
He let Steve take some liberties, try a few things out, and would direct from there, telling Steve how to adjust their body.
Steve felt in control, felt beautiful and confident.
Steve had taken off the slip, was posing in just the blue panties, now sitting on a windowsill, the New York skyline behind them.
Steve stood up, and dropped the little panties, kicking them away. Billy nodded, still looking behind the camera.
They stood in nothing but the heels, had been given a piece of fabric to drape around their body, or not if they so pleased. Steve held it aloft, looking at the camera with their best bitchy I’m above you look.
Billy had them do the same with six other outfits, slowly strip out of them throughout the shoot.
The set was closed, only a handful of people in the room with them as Steve languished around.
Billy nearly lost his damn mind at an image of Steve, their back to the camera, in nothing but red pumps, sitting in a middle split on the windowsill.
“You’re a fucking genius, Stevie. Gorgeous!”
It was hours before the shoot had finished, and Steve was given a plush robe and a latte.
“Steve.” Billy jerked his head towards the table in the corner, Billy’s cameras and laptop sitting on top of it.
Billy pulled another chair up to the table, let Steve sit on the first one.
“I just want to go over the shoot with you. You can pick the shots you like the most, and we can see which ones are right for my project. I’m publishing an art book. I’m sure Miranda already told you, she tells fucking everyone.” He had loaded the images from the day onto the laptop.
They clicked through them, sitting just the two of them, everyone already having left for home.
“Oh, wow.” Billy had stopped on an image of Steve with the large piece of gauzy fabric. It was draped over their shoulder, put hung to the floor, doing nothing to cover their body. “Look at your face. This is what I was taking about. The confidence, you just exude don’t fuck with me energy. It’s beautiful.”
Billy would often do that, point out minute details in Steve’s body language or facial expressions and explain the ways they were captivating.
And it made Steve feel captivating.
“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” Steve was far too aware of how close Billy’s face was to theirs.
“I really felt it today. Thank you.”
“You are ethereal. I’m not kidding.” Billy’s eyes flicked down to their lips. “Can I kiss you?”
Steve sighed when Billy kissed them, just a light press of his lips to theirs.
“I’d like to see you again. Cook you dinner? Or take you out? You pick.” Steve sat back.
“Is that why you wanted to work with me?”
“I wanted to work with you because you are so beautiful it’s inspiring. I want to date you because on top of all that, you’re kind, and sweet, and driven.”
“Um, yeah, then. I’ll go on a date with you.” Billy beamed. “But I don’t put out on the first date, and just because you photographed me naked does not mean you get to fuck me anytime soon.”
“Oh, of course.” He looked serious. It made Steve melt a little.
“And I’d love it if you cooked for me.”
“Then my place. Friday. Seven o’clock. Wear something nice. I may not be able to resist photographing you.”
“Yeah, yeah, Sweet Talker. I’m allergic to bell peppers and I think mushrooms are gross, so steer clear.”
“Drat. There goes my idea for mushroom stuffed bell peppers.”
“Darn. Looks like we can’t go out, then.” Billy laughed.
“I’ll text you my address. And my house will be properly de-mushroom and bell peppered for you.” Steve smiled.
