by Riley Rivers
“I know,” Ezra said softly.
Cameron twisted his napkin up in his hands. It was a fancy cloth kind, which was another thing his brain couldn’t quite handle. “Why um, why did you decide to focus on food? Photography.” It wasn’t a question he’d planned to ask, but at this point he was happy to say anything that got the attention off himself. And he was interested, that was for sure.
Ezra’s smile came back, and Cameron was grateful that he was willing to drop their previous subject. “It wasn’t a conscious decision at first. I was actually more interested in nature photography. Had grand plans to get a job working for National Geographic, or something equally on that level.”
“Then… why…?”
“I had a good friend who was going to culinary school. He started asking me to take pictures of his work for his Instagram and portfolio. I honestly couldn’t tell you why he didn’t think his phone camera was good enough, but I didn’t mind.” Ezra’s smile turned mischievous, and Cameron’s stomach did a funny little flip, having that expression directed at him. “Plus, I got to eat everything I photographed.”
Cameron swallowed. “That’s pretty cool.”
“Mm. From there I was introduced to the art of food styling, which I found fascinating. Got me hooked.”
“O-oh.”
“It’s funny how things turned out,” Ezra said. “But I like how they turned out. And I still do nature photography as a fairly serious hobby.”
“So you spend a lot of time sitting very, very still?” The question slipped out before Cameron could think better of it.
But Ezra just laughed. “Guilty.” And Cameron was definitely imagining the teasing lilt his voice had when he added, “I’m very good at being patient.”
Cameron took a nervous gulp of his juice.
“What about you?”
“What about me?” Cameron asked.
“What’s your subject of choice?”
“I’m good at nature stuff,” Cameron said, which was his stock answer. He knew it could be a pretty boring answer, but he didn’t know how else to describe what he did without pulling out his phone and showing his stuff. He was not about to do that to a master of the craft. “Not animals though. More flora over fauna.”
“It’s good that you’re good at it,” Ezra said, “But that didn’t quite answer my question.”
Ezra didn’t sound annoyed or anything, but his voice was some type of pleasant -but-firm that had Cameron trying not to squirm in his seat. “I-I mean, I do like flora photography. But not just pictures of landscapes or flowers. Those are fine! But I like to play a little with the environment. Um.” He fell silent, unable to think of anything else to say, worrying at his lip.
“It sounds like this is one of those cases where a picture might be worth a thousand words,” Ezra said, gaze flicking over Cameron’s face. The next smile was gentle. Encouraging. “If you didn’t mind showing me.”
God, Cameron knew he was probably beet red, fuck. He should not be reacting this strongly to what was just Ezra being… being kind. “I can, if you want,” he said, fumbling his phone out of his pocket. “It’s just, you know, they’re all stuff I did as I learned and it’s kind of niche I guess, so I don’t—”
“Cameron,” Ezra said, voice firm again, “Everything you ever do creatively is about learning. If you care about your subject, that will show through in your work. I’d love to see some of what you’ve done.”
“Right, okay.” Cameron unlocked his phone and, after some dithering, just opened Instagram. He had two accounts. One was strictly his school portfolio, used for general assignments and shared with teachers and classmates. The other was for his personal projects; the experimental stuff he really enjoyed but kept more to himself. He knew some of what he did was probably silly, but he poured a lot of himself into those photos, and inviting judgement or disdain by showing them to others wasn’t something he cared to do.
He worried at his lip again as he looked down at his phone. His school portfolio was good, because he was good at what he did. But they were school projects. Generic. And they didn’t showcase what Cameron had failed to explain.
He was being stupid.
He was taking too long.
He was being stupid.
Cameron went to his personal Instagram before he could overthink things even more. The most current photoset was one he’d been pretty proud of, to the point that he’d been debating showing a couple of his teachers. Though for that he’d be using a computer, not a tiny little phone screen.
He held out his phone.
Ezra didn’t take the phone from him, instead cupping his hand around Cameron’s own to draw the phone closer as he bent down to look at the screen.
“Oh,” Ezra said softly, barely an exhale, as he took in the picture.
Oh.
Cameron’s fingers twitched in Ezra’s hold, body thrumming with uncertainty. Was that a good oh? A disappointed one? Cameron hoped it wasn’t a disappointed one.
The photoset he’d shown Ezra was a fall nature scene. A large brown tree trunk featured prominently in the pictures, but the real star of the show was the leaf patterns at the base of it. Red, orange, and gold leaves, organized by color, fanned out in starburst patterns that spiraled away and out of the frame. Cameron had spent a week straight collecting and sorting leaves and searching for the perfect trunk shape for the project, and then hours and hours arranging the leaves in the colorful patterns he’d wanted.
“No wonder you were so adept at picking out the details in my shots,” Ezra said as he scrolled through pictures. “How long did this take you?”
Ezra sounded impressed. Cameron didn’t know what to do with that information. He averted his eyes, cheeks flaming. “A while?”
“Cameron, these photos are fantastic. And getting this sort of idea and being able to see it through to completion shows an incredible amount of dedication.” Ezra let go of Cameron’s hand slowly, almost as if reluctant. But he immediately pulled his own phone out of his pocket to fiddle with it.
Cameron was trying to not tie himself into knots over the fact that he was kinda maybe missing the warm touch of Ezra’s hand, but then his phone buzzed with a notification. He blinked down at the alert, stunned to see that Ezra had just followed him on his personal instagram.
Was that… that wasn’t because… Cameron hadn’t asked Ezra to follow him, so it wasn’t a pity follow, was it?
But that meant that Ezra was genuinely interested in seeing more of Cameron’s work.
“If that’s alright with you,” Ezra said, when Cameron realized he’d been staring at his phone too long and jerked his eyes back up to Ezra’s face
“Yeah, it’s uh—that’s fine. Sure.” Cameron reached for his glass again, taking a gulp. He was saved from having to say anything else by Geoff coming back with two plates.
“Here we are,” Geoff said cheerfully, setting one of the plates down in front of Cameron. Ezra got a rectangular plate with a very colorful roll of sushi on it. It looked interesting.
“My parents weren’t so much into sushi,” Ezra said, picking up his set of chopsticks. “But I was really drawn to the colors and patterns. I’d order it at restaurants to take pictures. Luckily, I discovered I liked the taste of it too.”
He grinned, the smile boyish and disarming, and Cameron smiled hesitantly back. “That’s really cool. And it does. Look good, I mean. Really pretty.”
“You’re welcome to try some,” Ezra offered.
“Oh, uh—” Cameron tried not to blanch. How did one react to like, their idol offering to share food off his plate. “Sure, maybe.”
“You’ll have to let me know how you like the pad thai though. I hope it’s as good as I remember.”
“It smells good,” Cameron said honestly. Though it looked a little… worryingly red. It seemed very much like the color of something spicy, but then again, what did Cameron know? He’d never eaten here before.
He snapped apart his own
chopsticks and gathered up some noodles, popping them into his mouth. The sudden burst of hot nearly made his eyes water, and it was only by pure will that he kept himself chewing enough to swallow the mouthful.
He immediately reached for his ice water, forcing himself to take small sips to try to cool his mouth without further spreading the hot oil. Fuck, ow. At least it was far from the very worst thing he’d choked down before, and he was pretty good at keeping a straight face.
“Not a fan?” Ezra asked, frowning slightly.
Fuck, fuck, fuck. “No, it’s—it’s great. Thank you.” Cameron was not about to disappoint Ezra by saying he didn’t like the man’s food pick. More than that, Cameron wasn’t going to waste food.
He took a slow breath in to steel himself and then took another bite.
The second bite wasn’t so bad. Or, no, it was… still pretty bad, but at least it wasn’t a surprise. Cameron could weather it. He couldn’t taste much besides spicy but he could do it. He could eat his portion.
He took a third mouthful, chewing quickly—and just enough that he could swallow before he took another few sips of water. Yeah, okay. Okay. No sweat.
“So, uh, do you mind if I ask you a little bit about some of your camera specs?” Cameron asked. He wanted to know, but he also desperately wanted to distract himself from his food. Besides, if Ezra talked, Cameron could just eat as quickly as possibly and not linger over bites. He’d end up with a full stomach either way.
Except Ezra’s frown had only gotten more pronounced. He tilted his head, expression almost concerned. “Cameron, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Cameron said probably too quickly. “It’s good.”
Ezra glanced from Cameron’s almost-empty water glass back down to his plate. “Is there too much spice for you?”
“Oh, well, it’s, uh, it’s a little hot I guess,” Cameron fumbled. “But it’s not their fault if mild is still kind of too much for me. But I can eat it. It’s really okay.” He took another bite, to prove it. This time he kept himself from reaching for his water, trying to make Ezra’s worry go away. Cameron was being treated to a meal. The least he could do was eat the fucking thing.
“Cameron, please,” Ezra said, holding up a hand when Cameron moved to pick up another chopstick-full. “Wait a minute.”
Cameron paused. “Yeah?”
Ezra inhaled, eyes narrowing as he looked at Cameron’s plate. Then he pointed to it with his chopsticks. “May I?”
“O-of course. Yeah, sure.”
“Thank you.” Ezra picked up a few noodles, eyed then, and popped them into his mouth. He chewed and swallowed silently.
“Is it as good as you remember?” Cameron hesitantly asked, trying for flippant and failing miserably.
“It’s a lot spicier than I remember,” Ezra said. “This is definitely not mild.”
“Oh. Okay.” Cameron looked forlornly at his plate. At least he knew he hadn’t been the one to mess up.
He squashed a sigh and picked up his chopsticks again.
“Just hang on,” Ezra said. “Let me flag down Geoff. We’ll get you another plate. One that’s actually mild, this time.”
“It’s okay,” Cameron said in a rush, stomach twisting at the thought of being a bother, and of wasting food. He was already making this whole lunch thing a disaster. “This is really fine.”
Ezra searched his face, the concerned frown still there and obvious. Cameron tried not to squirm in his seat at the scrutiny. “Sorry,” he offered, falling back on when in doubt, apologize.
“There’s nothing to apologize for.” Ezra’s expression had gone all complicated, like he was thinking something over. “The kitchen just made a mistake. We’ll order you another plate. It’s okay.”
Cameron stared down at his plate, blushing furiously and hating it. Hating the fact that he was choking up even more, vision blurring a little at Ezra telling him it was somehow okay to just waste food. “I—” He had to cut himself off, stop before his voice cracked open at the kindness.
“It’s okay,” Ezra said again.
Cameron swallowed, trying to clear his clogged-up throat. “Okay.”
Chapter Three
Cameron was totally useless in his next class. Partially because the lack of sleep was really hitting him, especially after lunch and with a full stomach, but mostly, definitely, because of said lunch.
Ezra had flagged down Geoff and explained the situation and Geoff was very apologetic, immediately taking away the spicy plate and going back to the kitchen to get another pad thai made. Meanwhile, Cameron had excused himself to the bathroom to try to get himself together so he didn’t like, actually break down in the restaurant.
When he’d returned to the table, Ezra had picked up on the conversation they’d left off at, answering Cameron’s questions about the equipment he used, in what situations, and why, and by then Cameron’s new plate was ready and it was… really, really good. He’d eaten the whole thing over the course of the conversation, and said conversation had lasted and lasted and lasted.
When Cameron had realized that he actually needed to go so he could make it to his next class, Ezra had smiled and thanked Cameron for his time. Like Cameron had been the one to do him a huge fucking favor, by asking Ezra a bazillion questions while letting Ezra treat him to food. Cameron hadn’t gotten it at all, but he’d stuttered out his own thank you as reality set back in and he remembered that he wasn’t Ezra’s friend or anything. He was just some broke-ass college student that Ezra was being nice to, because, as Cameron had definitely learned, Ezra was just that type. Nice.
And smart, and talented, and successful, and god, too silver-fox hot for Cameron not to be completely stupid about the fact that Ezra had given him a little bit of his day.
The kicker, though, had been after Ezra had paid the bill and they were back outside Ronin Sushi, ready to go their separate ways.
“I’d like to continue our conversation,” Ezra had said, as Cameron was working up to saying a final goodbye and going on his way, turning the afternoon into just a memory. “And I’ll be in the area for a while, working on some upcoming projects. I could use an assistant, and you’re clearly very capable. Would you be interested in an internship? Paid, of course.”
Cameron’s eyes had just about bugged out of his head. He’d tripped over himself to say yes, yes, oh my god, of course, and Ezra had smiled at him, pulling out his phone.
“Great. Why don’t you give me your contact information? Phone number, or just email is fine, if you prefer it.”
So Cameron spent most of his Survey class just circle-thinking about the fact that Ezra Green had his number and email and had promised to be in touch.
It felt a little unreal.
By the time class let out at four though, he was absolutely ready to drop and be dead to the world for a while. And with his shift not starting until ten, he actually did have a few hours where he could sleep before starting on homework, thank god.
He stumbled his way across campus to the covered lot he was parked at for the day. He paid through the nose for a parking pass each semester, but he was able to take full advantage of it. With his pass, he could park in the structures for as long as he wanted anytime he wanted between the hours of six am and one am. With the parking structures being enclosed, covered, and relatively safe spaces, all things considered, they were prime places for Cameron’s car to spend most of its time.
Once at his car, Cameron opened the rear passenger door and gently set his backpack down on the floor of the car, covering it with the ragged hoodie he mostly kept around specifically to be a backpack shield. With that taken care of, he closed the door, locked his car, and popped his trunk.
Walking around to the back of his car, Cameron checked to make sure the coast was clear, heaved a heavy, exhausted sigh, and climbed into the trunk, pulling it shut behind him.
In the semi-darkness, only lit by the glow of the trunk’s emergency open pull, Cameron breathed out another sigh.
God, what a day so far. Strangely thrilling, very confusing, but completely draining, especially coming off barely two hours of sleep.
He kicked off his shoes into one corner, then wiggled around to grab the pillow and thermal sleeping bag he kept inside his trunk. The sleeping bag had been an incredibly lucky thrift store find last August, probably donated by someone done with camping or upgrading after the summer was over. It had been a huge help through the winter, and Cameron was expecting it to save his life this coming winter, what with the predicted temperatures being much colder than last year’s had been.
He didn’t bother trying to take off his jacket before doing a little more wiggling and finally settling into his sleeping bag. It took a bit of shifting to get into the position he had figured out was the most comfortable in the months that he’d been sleeping in his car, but once in it, it was a little easier to relax. Cameron always slept curled up into a little ball, so the fact that he couldn’t fully stretch out in his trunk like he could in a bed wasn’t a big deal. And maybe the one plus to topping out at five eight was that he didn’t have to squish to fit.
At this point, he barely remembered what it was like to splay out in a bed. Just another thing he’d gotten used to. He might have had slightly more room if he tried to sleep in a seat leaned back, but he preferred to curl up in the area his trunk provided. On top of that—and the main reason Cameron had originally taken to sleeping in his trunk in the first place—no one could see him this way. He could sleep mostly uninterrupted. It was as close to a private place to be as he was going to get.
He made it work.
The only problems with it were when the weather got really hot or really cold. It had been a blessing that winter hadn’t been too bad last year, but there had definitely been a few summer days where Cameron had almost maybe given himself heat stroke by accident. But you lived and learned.
