Photographic Memory

Under the Stars

The alarm sounded and Joseph hadn't caught a single survivor. It wasn't his fault, they were getting too good. Or maybe he was a little distracted. Or both. He needed to get back in shape or he would get in trouble with the Host. Little did he know his disappointment wouldn't last much longer.

Joseph was picking up his cameras and a little surprise came with one of them. A small note written in... eyeliner? The Photographer snorted. It was quite dark outside, but with a bit of effort, he could read: "Meet me at the garden?"

Sneaking into the survivor's Manor was getting less and less scary. The only thing that made it actually challenging was the lack of light. Most of the residents were in they're rooms already, some of them preparing for a good night of sleep, so they left the lights out.

Guided by the shine of the moon coming through the windows, Joseph got to the garden's door quite quickly. He took a deep breath and turned the handle.

When the door opened the radiance of the moon blinded him for a bit. His vision eventually got used to it, and he was welcomed to one of the best views he had ever seen.

Under the stars reflected on the greenhouse's glass was a man waiting anxiously. His gray hair was tied up as usual, but somehow it had more of a glow tonight. He had his fingers intertwined, except for his thumbs that wouldn't stop moving. His eyes were looking down at his hands. At this angle, it became clear how long his eyelashes were.

Joseph closed the door behind him and greeted Aesop with a gentle smile, which he replicated nervously behind his mask. That damned mask.

There was an awkward silence between the two when Joseph sat down. Aesop simply sat there with his legs crossed facing the hunter.

"Any reason in particular why you called me here?" Joseph asked to make the strange atmosphere disappear.

Aesop sighed and gathered his courage. "Yes..."

The photographer raised an eyebrow. "And what would that be?" He asked with a grin. Soon he understood it wasn't the time for that.

The embalmer exhaled heavily, brought his hand to his mask, paused with fear, and finally revealed what he'd been hiding.

Joseph held a gasp. There was something on the corners of Aesop's scarred mouth, more specifically two white lines on each side. Joseph couldn't make sense out of it in the beginning, the darkness didn't help either. At first, he thought they were just some strange shaped band-aids, but then he looked closer. Was his mouth stitched?!

"Grossed out?"

"No! Just-!" He was so worried he didn't know what to do with himself. "Why?" Was all he could ask.

Aesop squeezed the mask he was holding. "Long story."

Joseph placed his hand on his cheek. He was examining the stitches with sad eyes. Their faces were so close. "Is it? Or you just don't want to talk about it?"

The gray eyes dodged the blue ones at that question, his face, however, was still being held by those long, thin fingers.

"Want me to kiss it better?"

When Aesop turned to look at the hunter again, he was much closer than before. He could feel his breathing directly on his face, burning his cheeks along with the blush. He felt a smile he had been holding spill out.

Joseph took that as an answer. He brought his lips to one of the corners of Aesop's mouth, doing as promised. The sensation was weird, he could swear he tasted metal, but he was kissing Aesop and that was all it mattered. Both of them chuckled at the action, then Joseph moved to the other corner and left a peck there. They took a moment to breathe by placing their foreheads together and stood like this, enjoying the moment. Aesop was drowning in Joseph's ocean eyes when he felt his lips ghost on his own.

It was an innocent touch but soon escalated to pressing and nibling. Aesop hugged the hunter's neck and the kiss turned into much more than a kiss from that point onwards. Their tongues slid into each other's mouths. Their hands gripped each other's clothing like they were scared one of them might run away.

The desire to get rid of all the space existent between them was growing, but as shy as he was, he couldn't bring himself to fix that issue. So Joseph brought the matter to his own hands like he had heard his prayer.

He pulled the shorter man to his lap with a smooth move. Their chests were pressed together. They could feel each other's agitated breathing like it was their own. Joseph felt like his blood was switched for boiling lava. He felt like burning when Aesop's fingers started dancing around on his neck and nape. Aesop tried not to mess his perfect ponytail at first, but it got to a point where he didn't care anymore. Joseph slid his hand into Aesop's clothing and stayed there, caressing his lower back. That skin to skin contact was the last drop. It added to everything they were feeling and they couldn't help the little hums escaping between their lips. They had lost themselves in that kiss, and they didn't bother at all. Nothing was holding them back now.

Until Aesop placed his hands on Joseph's chest and kept some distance. He was looking straight at the door, not moving an inch.

Joseph hadn't come to his senses yet, so he bit Aesop's lower lip softly in order to get his attention back. "What is it?" His voice came out hoarse.

The embalmer did not turn to look back at him. He kept the photographer right were he was. "I think I heard footsteps." He whispered.