Title: "Autumn"
Pairing: John x Dave
Summary:
"Are we done for the day?" He brushes his pants as he stands up from ground, craning his back until a satisfying pop of his bones makes him breath out in relief. You try hard to not look at his lips when he sighs, noticing him lick his chapped lips.
Disclaimer: Characters belong to AH.
A/N:
Working on a series on AO3 so I took a break and wrote something short.


Thousand of autumn leaves scatter the grass field, a variety of pop yellow and Halloween orange, the trees' thin branches bald and spook. The dusk evening was perfect, the sky dyed in a mixture of color that reflected upon a pair of blue eyes. And by the name of all the mysteries everyone's heard, you think John's eyes were the biggest mystery of them all.

It was the real reason why you choose him to be in most of your photography work.

The owls can be heard, the rush of cars zooming in the distance as the city quiets down. The silence between the two of you is comfortable, John shifting positions as you circle around him at different angles. A momentary smile surprises you when you look down at your film, another successful (and exhausting) day with John passed.

"Are we done for the day?" He brushes his pants as he stands up from ground, craning his back until a satisfying pop of his bones makes him breath out in relief. You try hard to not look at his lips when he sighs, noticing him lick his chapped lips.

"Yeah," you quip. "I was thinking we could hang out at my house. I don't plan on working on editing today." Honestly, your body ached and you didn't exactly want that nausea feeling you get when you work with a photo of Mr. Impossible-Blue-Eyes staring right at you. Of course, your stomach is fluttering when he paps your shoulder and starts walking across the field, the leaves crunching under his feet.

The camera loops over your neck and you slowly follow after, waiting for that warm fuzzy feel to die away before catching up to John. You're greeted to a warm smile and you're reminded to not fall for that same damn smile, to resist tangling your fingers with him or lean over to kiss his lips.

You swallow back the lump at your throat and smirk.

And inside, you are hurting, knowing John would never look at you the way you look at him.