FIC: Annie
Oct. 28th, 2011 10:10 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
zaubraFandom: UK Politics
Title: Annie
Ship(s): Jeremy Browne/William Hague
Word Count: 297
Rating: PG
Summary: Jeremy is no Annie Leibovitz. For this prompt at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Annie
“Hmm,” Jeremy says, frowning at the picture on his camera screen.
“Are you happy now?” Hague asks. Jeremy can’t tell whether he says it dryly or whether that’s just his accent. Perhaps both.
Jeremy studies the picture. “No, not yet. You look a bit…constipated.”
“That may be because I am sitting on the edge of my desk,” Hague observes.
“Well, the standing up pictures looked stiff, and the sitting down pictures looked awkward,” Jeremy says, distractedly, cycling quickly through his shots. “Let’s try again. Hold it up.”
Hague sighs, and holds up the iPad again.
As Jeremy begins to take his shots, moving around to find the best angle and lighting, Hague says, “It doesn’t have to be Annie Leibovitz. Just a simple picture will do.”
“You’re talking,” Jeremy says, and fixes him with a stern glare.
Hague looks thoughtful, but keeps his mouth shut.
“There,” Jeremy says at last, sinking down on the desk next to Hague, and holding out the camera. “It’s not my best work, but how’s that?”
Hague studies the picture. “That will be fine.” He hands the camera back to Jeremy, but doesn’t let go. “When I asked you to take a picture, I didn’t know you were an enthusiast.”
“I dabble,” Jeremy says, flushing.
Hague’s lips curve. “Indeed.” He lets go of the camera.
“It’s fun,” Jeremy says, feeling a little defensive. He puts the camera in his bag.
“I quite liked seeing your more imperious side,” Hague says, and that’s definitely a smirk now.
Jeremy bites his lip. “Well, I like yours,” he says quietly.
“I know,” Hague says.
Jeremy looks up, into those sardonic eyes, and leans in for a kiss.
The next half-hour does not involve Jeremy’s camera, or Hague’s iPad.
It does, however, involve the desk.
~//~
Title: Annie
Ship(s): Jeremy Browne/William Hague
Word Count: 297
Rating: PG
Summary: Jeremy is no Annie Leibovitz. For this prompt at the meme.
Disclaimer: This is a creative work of fiction, composed of fictional characters inspired by the public personas of living people. No injury or disrespect is intended to the persons named. If you've found this by googling yourself or someone you know, stop playing on the Internet and go run the country.
Annie
“Hmm,” Jeremy says, frowning at the picture on his camera screen.
“Are you happy now?” Hague asks. Jeremy can’t tell whether he says it dryly or whether that’s just his accent. Perhaps both.
Jeremy studies the picture. “No, not yet. You look a bit…constipated.”
“That may be because I am sitting on the edge of my desk,” Hague observes.
“Well, the standing up pictures looked stiff, and the sitting down pictures looked awkward,” Jeremy says, distractedly, cycling quickly through his shots. “Let’s try again. Hold it up.”
Hague sighs, and holds up the iPad again.
As Jeremy begins to take his shots, moving around to find the best angle and lighting, Hague says, “It doesn’t have to be Annie Leibovitz. Just a simple picture will do.”
“You’re talking,” Jeremy says, and fixes him with a stern glare.
Hague looks thoughtful, but keeps his mouth shut.
“There,” Jeremy says at last, sinking down on the desk next to Hague, and holding out the camera. “It’s not my best work, but how’s that?”
Hague studies the picture. “That will be fine.” He hands the camera back to Jeremy, but doesn’t let go. “When I asked you to take a picture, I didn’t know you were an enthusiast.”
“I dabble,” Jeremy says, flushing.
Hague’s lips curve. “Indeed.” He lets go of the camera.
“It’s fun,” Jeremy says, feeling a little defensive. He puts the camera in his bag.
“I quite liked seeing your more imperious side,” Hague says, and that’s definitely a smirk now.
Jeremy bites his lip. “Well, I like yours,” he says quietly.
“I know,” Hague says.
Jeremy looks up, into those sardonic eyes, and leans in for a kiss.
The next half-hour does not involve Jeremy’s camera, or Hague’s iPad.
It does, however, involve the desk.
~//~
