Chapter Text
Yushi gets to the studio before anyone else. The place big and empty as the cold air begin to hit his skin. He puts his bag down by the wall and begins to unpack. All his cameras, lenses and batteries are all laid out in order. He goes through them one by one, checking charge levels, glass and shutters before moving onto lightings. The stands go up and softboxes clipped on with reflectors angled. He tests them, adjusts height, and tests again. By the time the first assistants come in, he’s already got most of it done.
They greet him and he greets back out of politeness and doesn’t make a big deal out of it. He points out one stand that needs adjusting, makes sure the cables are taped down, and thanks the person who does it without really thinking. He’s professional but he doesn’t want to come off too stiff so he keeps it easy. A nod, a thank you, and a small smile here and there.
The project itself is a big campaign shoot with billboards, storefronts, magazines. He’s done plenty like it before but this one feels a little different—not because of the scope but because of the model. This is his first time shooting Oh Sion.
The staff’s already talking about it even before Sion shows up, you can hear them drop his name in small conversations, laughing nervously and wondering what it’ll be like. Yushi doesn’t join in but he knows why they’re acting that way because Sion’s reputation is hard to ignore.
He's got the perfect face, the perfect body and the perfect everything. He's cold, untouchable, and flawless in every single campaign, on every single runway. Yushi’s seen the ads and the spreads. He’s seen the man plastered on half the city. No cracks, no slips, just one long string of perfection but that’s not what Yushi’s interested in because perfection is boring. What he wants is something real. A glimpse of the actual person and if the rumors are true, that might be hard to find with someone like Sion.
He finishes adjusting the last light and steps back, arms crossed, scanning the setup. Everything looks fine. He’s not nervous, just curious. Wondering if “perfect” is all Sion really is or if there’s something underneath that no one else has managed to catch.
The studio slowly fills up while Yushi double-checks his gear. The makeup crew arrives first, then wardrobe, then assistants carrying racks of clothes sealed in plastic.
After a while, Sion’s manager walks in. Middle-aged, polite and one who’s always half on his phone. He greets Yushi with a handshake and thanks him for coming early. Yushi nods, saying it’s no problem. The manager lets out a sigh like he’s already bracing for the day. “He’ll be here soon. Not feeling his best this morning”
Yushi just says “Understood" and leaves it at that. He’s worked with plenty of models who show up in worse shape—hungover, jetlagged, or just not in the mood, it’s part of the job. As long as the camera catches what it needs, nobody outside the room will know.
Ten to fifteen minutes later, the atmosphere shifts again. You can always tell when the star arrives. Even before you see him, the assistants straighten up, makeup brushes get set down, someone checks the clothes rack one more time, and then Sion steps inside.
He’s exactly what the ads make him out to be—tall, defined, perfect lines in his face. The kind of person you notice even if you’re not looking but today, something’s off. His shoulders are a little tighter, his walk a little slower, and when he smiles, it's forced. The staff laughs politely anyway but everyone can tell he’s not in the best mood.
Still, he plays the part. He greets the room, thanks them for their work and when he turns to Yushi, the smile tightens just a fraction more. “Yushi, right?” he asks politely.
Yushi nods back, keeping his own tone even. “Good morning. Glad to finally work with you”
On the surface, it’s all professional and courteous. Nothing to raise eyebrows at but there’s something about the way Sion holds himself like a wall that’s already up before Yushi’s even had the chance to aim his camera.
The introductions are over in seconds. The staff start moving again, makeup chair ready, clothes prepped, lights waiting but Yushi can feel it already— today’s going to be work. Not just shooting, but trying to crack through whatever mask Sion’s decided to put on.
They sit Sion down in the makeup chair and he doesn’t argue or complain—just pulls out his phone and scrolls while the brushes and sponges do their work. The makeup artist hardly has to try since his skin’s already clear and his features are sharp enough that even the lightest contour does the trick. They powder him down, fix his brows, and run a comb through his hair. He doesn’t chat or doesn’t fidget like most models do. He just… waits.
Yushi watches from the side. The lack of small talk… most people at least try to break the air but Sion doesn’t bother. When he’s done, wardrobe rolls over the first look—something safe to start with. A clean, structured jacket and wide trousers, tailored perfectly with neutral tones. Assistants hover close, adjusting a collar, smoothing the fabric so it falls just right. By the end, he looks exactly like the moodboard pictures taped to the wall.
“Ready?” Yushi asks.
Sion slips his phone away, stands, and walks over to the taped mark on the floor. He doesn’t ask what the theme is, doesn’t ask what kind of mood Yushi wants. He just takes his spot under the lights.
The first few clicks are just tests. Yushi checks the exposure, the angle and the way the light hits the jacket. “Look here a second. Chin up slightly. Good. Hold it”
And Sion gives him exactly what he expects—textbook poses, perfect angles, every tilt of his face precise and practiced. It’s almost mechanical.
Yushi lowers the camera for a moment. He doesn’t say anything yet but already he can feel it—working with Sion is going to be… new.
Sion stands in the middle of the set like he’s done this a thousand times. Which to be fair, he has. The second Yushi raises the camera, Sion falls into position—chin angled, shoulders straight, gaze locked past the lens.
“Good” Yushi says. Not that he means it but it’s something to fill the silence. He clicks through a handful of shots. “Turn a little to the left. Hold that”
Sion obeys instantly with no hesitation, and no wasted movement. The jacket catches the light just like the brand intended. The photos are clean, marketable and flawless.
An assistant steps in to tug at the hem of his sleeve. Sion doesn’t move, just waits until they back away before slipping right back into another pose. After five minutes of this, Yushi lowers the camera. “Alright. Let’s try something a little looser”
Sion looks at him “Looser?” his tone is polite enough but there’s no real curiosity in it.
“Yeah. Less rigid. Think…” Yushi gestures vaguely with his free hand “—you just got home, you’re tired, but you’re still put together. Drop the shoulders a bit and relax your jaw”
There’s a pause long enough for the crew nearby to glance up. Sion doesn’t move. Then he moves, shoulders dip a fraction, his jaw loosens. Yushi raises the camera again, takes a few more shots. It’s better technically but there’s still something missing.
“Not bad” Yushi says though his tone slips into flat honesty. He lowers the camera and studies him. “But you’re giving me… nothing”
The words land heavier than he expects. The room goes quieter, though no one stops moving.
Sion's eyes finally meets his, squinting “Nothing? It's just photos”
“Exactly and if you stay in your head like that, that’s all they’ll ever be"
Yushi’s words hang there. Sion doesn’t answer right away. He just looks at him eyes still squinted.
“Don't get me wrong though, you look perfect” Yushi says, because it’s true. “But perfect isn’t the point. Right now you’re just posing. Anyone with training could do that”
For the first time, Sion’s posture changes—not for the camera, but for himself. “Isn’t that exactly what you need?”
Yushi doesn’t look away. “Not me, not for this campaign. They didn’t hire me to shoot a mannequin”
Sion’s lips press together, the polite mask slipping just enough to show the edge underneath. For a moment, Yushi thinks he might actually bite back—the words are right there hanging unsaid but before he can, Sion’s manager clears his throat from the side of the set. “Let’s pause for a moment shall we?” he says. “Break time. Five minutes”
The assistants nod and scatter. Someone offers water, someone else adjusts a light just for the sake of moving.
Sion doesn’t move right away. His gaze is still locked on Yushi and then he steps down from the mark. He accepts the bottle of water handed to him, thanks the assistant with a quiet murmur and walks off to the side. He sits, long legs folding neatly, expression blank as ever but the stiffness is obvious to anyone paying attention.
Yushi stays by the camera, pretending to check his shots as he scrolls through the frames. Technically flawless, every angle is perfect and yet he can feel Sion’s eyes on him, tense even from across the room.
The manager hovers close to Sion, leaning down to murmur something that doesn’t carry. Sion only nods once, gaze flicking back to the set. The break feels longer than it is. They start again not long after. Same lights, same backdrop, same Sion in the middle of it all. Only now Yushi’s watching closer and waiting for him to slip.
“Walk again” Yushi says. “Don’t think, just go”
Sion moves and Yushi clicks a few shots, then lowers the camera.
“You’re holding back”
Sion’s head tilts the slightest bit. “I’m literally walking”
“Yeah, but you’re walking like someone’s watching”
That earns him a look and it's the kind people don’t usually give Yushi on set.
“Try again” Yushi says.
Sion breathes out slowly. This time when he moves, there’s a little drag in his step like he’s annoyed. Yushi clicks and the shot looks better.
“Good” he mutters almost to himself.
They keep going. Yushi throws out prompts—“Shoulder up against the wall” “Hands out of the pockets, let them fall” “Look past me, not at me” Sion follows, always precise, but every now and then, something slips. A hint of irritation in his eyes and a tiny curve of his lips when Yushi says something blunt. Yushi catches those.
After a while, Sion wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand, quickly and almost careless. Yushi snaps it without thinking.
Click. Click. Those are the ones that feel alive.
Sion notices. “You caught that?”
Yushi doesn’t look away from the camera. “Yeah. That’s the first time you didn’t look like you were on autopilot”
That does it, the whole room changes and nobody says anything but you can feel it—assistants suddenly finding reasons to fuss with light stands or shuffle through makeup brushes, pretending they aren’t listening.
Sion straightens his jacket slowly. “I wasn’t ready” he says.
“That’s the point” Yushi answers. He doesn’t mean to sound stern but it comes out that way. “The unready moments are the ones people actually believe”
For a second, Sion doesn’t move. He just looks at Yushi. Not angrily but cold in a way that makes your spine straighten as if he’s deciding what you’re worth.
Then just as smoothly, he tilts his chin back into position, shoulders set, gaze fixed past the lens. Picture-perfect, back in control. “Then you’ll have to wait until I allow it” he says it softly.
Yushi hears it anyway and he knows right then—Sion hates being caught off guard and Yushi? He can’t stop chasing it.
They change the set one last time with different backdrop and softer lights. The stylists bring Sion a new outfit—something darker, sharper, meant to close the series strong. He disappears behind the curtain with his manager trailing after and the crew moves quickly, adjusting angles, lowering stands, testing the brightness again.
When Sion steps back out, he looks like he’s walked off a magazine spread already. Black jacket fitted perfectly, shirt crisp, hair pushed back in a way that makes every line of his face more defined than it already is. The room almost stills for a second. He knows what he looks like, he always does.
“Alright, last set” Yushi says.
Sion walks to the mark. He doesn’t wait for instruction, just slips into a pose. Hand in his pocket, head angled, gaze past the lens.
Click. Click. Yushi takes the shots but something's off. It’s good but it’s hollow. He adjusts his grip on the camera, forces his tone even.
“Try one sitting”
Sion lowers himself into the chair, crossing one leg over the other. His posture doesn’t break—it’s still too clean and rigid. Yushi circles slowly, shooting from different angles, waiting for something to give.
“Too formal” Yushi says flatly. “You look like you’re waiting for a board meeting” Click.
Sion doesn’t react and just adjusts his sleeve, gaze fixed somewhere past the lights.
“Head down but not sulking like you’re thinking about something you can’t say.” Yushi doesn’t soften his voice. He barks it out like he’s testing him.
Sion moves just a little and Yushi seizes it—click.
“Now tilt your head. Not that much. Yeah—like you’re listening to someone only you can hear” Click, click.
Sion’s hand twitches against his cuff, irritation breaking through for a split second.
“Good” Yushi says immediately. “Keep that. Now—mess it up. Pull your sleeve, wrinkle it. Make me believe you’re tired of being perfect”
That makes Sion glance at him not through the lens, not past it—directly at him. His eyes are questioning and almost challenging. The crew goes quieter again, pretending to work.
Yushi raises the camera anyway. Snap. Snap. Each click feels louder than it should. He knows these are the shots, the ones with teeth. The ones Sion will hate because they’re real.
Sion breaks eye contact first. His shoulders reset, his jacket straightens, the wall goes back up. He angles his chin just so and what’s left is flawless “Are we done?” he asks, trying to sound polite but it just comes out flat.
Yushi lowers the camera slowly. “…Yeah. That’s a wrap”
Assistants sweep in like they’ve been waiting for the call, breaking the air, collecting clothes and props. Sion’s manager is already smiling, already thanking people, already smoothing things over but underneath all the noise, the space between Yushi and Sion feels heavy. The shoot didn’t settle anything—it only made it worse like the fuse has been lit and no one knows when it’ll burn out.
It’s late when Sion goes back to the studio. He left something behind—his phone, he realizes, or maybe a charger, he’s not even sure—and the hallways are quiet and dark. The crew is long gone and the lights over the set are off, leaving only the glow of emergency strips along the floor.
He moves cautiously, trying not to knock anything over. His eyes adjust slowly, scanning the racks and tables that still hold clothes and props. For a moment, he thinks he’s completely alone.
Then he turns a corner and there’s Yushi standing in the shadows, a bottle in one hand, leaning slightly against a table. Sion doesn’t see him at first—no sound, no warning—and for a second, the world narrows down to just that figure. Sion startles, lets out an instinctive noise and stumbles backwards. His foot catches a chair leg and he goes down with a thump.
Yushi freezes, eyes wide, bottle halfway to his lips. “Whoa! You okay?” his voice is calm but there’s a hint of genuine concern… just a bit.
Sion scrambles to his feet, brushing himself off. His shirt wrinkled from the fall. “You—what are you doing here?” he sounds almost defensive.
“I could ask you the same thing” Yushi says, tilting his head slightly. “I stepped out for a snack. Didn’t realize anyone else was still here” he sets the bottle down, hands raised just a little in peace.
Sion hesitates, glaring for a moment but not moving closer. “I—forgot something” he admits. “Didn’t think anyone would still be here”
Yushi slowly nods, not stepping closer and just observing. “Right… makes sense” for the first time all day, his tone sounds neutral.
Sion glances around the dark studio, the racks of clothes, the scattered props, the empty set. “So… you’re just finishing up?”
“Yeah” Yushi replies, taking a slow sip from the bottle. “Backups, some file organization. Shouldn’t take long” he leans slightly against the table, hands still careful, giving Sion space.
Sion picks his way past tables and cables towards the counter where he thinks he left the charger. His fingers hover over a small black object. He grabs it, tucking it into his pocket, then pauses, noticing Yushi watching. Not with judgment, exactly, but… attentive.
Sion freezes for a split second, sensing Yushi’s gaze. It’s not intrusive yet somehow, that makes Sion uneasy and makes his fingers curl a little around the charger. He hates how aware he is, hates that his body reacts before his mind can shut it down.
“You… always watch like that?”
Yushi looks at him confused and then straightens. “Like what?”
“Like… I don’t know, like I’m under a microscope” Sion shifts his weight, glances at the floor, then back at Yushi. “It’s unsettling”
Yushi flinches almost imperceptibly, caught off guard. “Unsettling?” his voice is quieter now and careful “Because I’m… noticing?”
Sion doesn’t break eye contact. “Exactly. You watch too closely. Makes me… self-conscious” there’s no apology in his tone—only control like he’s laying down the rules of engagement.
Yushi swallows, adjusting the bottle in his hands. “I’m just trying to do my job.”
“Do it then” Sion says smoothly, almost teasing, though there’s an edge. “Notice me and snap your shots but don’t make it personal”
Yushi straightens, hands gripping the bottle a little tighter. “Not personal? You’re standing there like an untouchable statue. How am I supposed to capture anything real if you’re untouchable?”
Sion tilts his head slightly, eyebrow raised. “Then maybe you’re not capturing reality, you’re just chasing it. Doesn’t mean it’s here”
Yushi stiffens. “Chasing it?” he echoes. “I’m not chasing anything. I just… I can’t make someone show what they don’t want to”
Sion’s lips twitch, almost a smirk. “Then maybe you should accept that some people don’t show anything. Some people control what’s seen and that's fine. For me anyway” his tone is neutral but there’s a bite underneath, something like a warning.
Yushi takes a slow breath, tilts the bottle slightly as if to buy himself a fraction of calm. “Control doesn’t mean honesty”
Sion steps closer, just enough that Yushi feels the space shrink without Sion breaking form. “Honesty isn’t your job” he says. “Your job is to take what’s in front of you, not decide what’s real” the words aren’t loud but they cut.
Yushi’s fingers tighten on the bottle. He doesn’t argue further, doesn’t push back—he knows when he’s being outmaneuvered and Sion does it effortlessly, quietly asserting.
Sion studies him for a moment like he’s weighing whether Yushi even matters in the equation. “Anyway” he says finally, voice calm and final, “I’ve got what I came for. Don’t let me keep you from finishing your… whatever it is”
He straightens fully and moves to the exit with deliberate and controlled steps. Yushi watches silently as the tension is knotting in his chest, part irritation, part something else he doesn’t want to name.
Sion pauses at the doorway, just enough to glance over his shoulder. “And… try not to let your feelings get in the way of your work” he adds almost mocking before finally disappearing down the hall.
Yushi’s leaning over the sink, toothbrush shoved halfway in his mouth, phone jammed between shoulder and ear. “I swear to fuck, Sion is—he’s—ugh! I don’t even have word. He’s handsome, yeah, fine, whatever, but he’s such a pain in the ass I could scream!” toothpaste foam leaks from the corner of his mouth. “Like hello? I’m trying to get a shot that isn’t just a fucking mannequin posing, and he’s standing there like… like he’s perfect and untouchable and I should just kiss his ass while he tilts his head”
Daeyoung snickers on the other end. “Wow. That bad?”
“That bad? Is it that bad! He doesn’t move naturally, he doesn’t react like a human being, he just exists and expects the world to revolve around it and his face!” Yushi scrubs his teeth harder, shaking his head so hard he almost drops the phone. “I want to punch him in the face, I want to smile at him, I want to scream, all at the same time and every time I think I got a good shot, he does something I didn’t expect, and it ruins my composition!”
Daeyoung laughs, shaking his head. “Jesus, calm down, man”
“Calm down? Calm down?! I’m literally pacing my apartment like an idiot because of him. He’s so full of it and it drives me fucking crazy and the worst part? He knows exactly what he’s doing without even trying!"
Yushi stomps a wet foot on the floor, toothbrush still in his mouth, foamy spit hitting the sink. “And the way he looks at me… don’t even get me started. Like he’s assessing me? Judging me? Testing me? And I hate it. I hate it so much I want to throw my fucking camera out the window or maybe just at his face”
Daeyoung snorts. “Man, you’re losing it”
“I’m not losing it!” Yushi yells, tossing the toothbrush aside. “I’m just explaining, okay? The guy is infuriating and he’s got this aura that makes you question everything you’re doing. I hate that I noticed it. I hate that I’m thinking about him right now. I hate that he exists!”
He flops onto the counter for a second, muttering under his breath. “The absolute worst. I should just delete the shots, go home, burn the studio down, I swear. Fucking hell. Fuck. Him. I can’t deal with this guy tomorrow either because he’ll be back in my face, calm as shit, smiling that stupid, precise model smile, and I’ll—”
Yushi stops mid-rant, mutters a string of curses, then leans back, running a hand through wet hair. “I can’t deal with him. I really can’t. Why does he have to be so… him?”
Sion drops onto his bed and his apartment is quiet. He’s supposed to be winding down, brushing the day off, maybe scrolling through his phone but of course, his brain doesn’t cooperate.
It keeps going back to Yushi. That photographer, bossy as hell, precise as hell, and almost impossible to ignore. Every comment, every instruction—it should’ve annoyed him more than it did and yeah, at first it did but then, when he went back for his charger and caught that looks in Yushi’s eyes… yeah, it hit him in a way he didn’t expect.
Sion hates it. Hates the way Yushi manages to get under his skin without even trying. The control, the attention, the way he makes a room feel smaller just by standing there. It’s irritating, infuriating and weirdly satisfying.
He can’t help imagining it—just for a second—what it would be like to push back, to get a reaction. Not cruel exactly and nothing more than a test. Just a little poke, a little ripple under Yushi’s calm surface. Because honestly? Yushi seems calm and collected… can't crack even under a lot of pressure and Sion hasn’t had that kind of fun in a long time.
So yeah, maybe he’ll mess with him just once. See what it feels like to make Yushi shift, even a little. Just a tiny taste of satisfaction he’s not usually allowed.
He lets his fingers curl around the pillow and he smirks. He’s not the type to play games, not at work but Yushi… well, Yushi’s different and maybe that means he can break his own rules just this once.