It was a huge opportunity that had been given to Mitch when he was asked to photograph Scott for GQ. Mitch wasn't an actual photographer for the magazine, more of a freelancer, who did really well if he was being honest. He figured that was why he was asked to photograph Scott.

Boy, was he wrong.

What they failed to mention to Mitch, is that every other photographer down right refused to work with the demanding, bitchy diva, so they had to find someone outside the company. He discovered this important bit of information when he talked to one of Scott's five assistants. He probably had so many so it wouldn't be an inconvenience to him when he fired one of the poor souls.

Mitch braced himself for the worst, while figuring out how to capture the man's beauty with his lens. But as Scott walked out into the room, Mitch faltered at the sight of him, wondering how on earth his pictures could do the man justice.

It's not like he didn't know what Scott looked like, everyone knew what he looked like. Still, Mitch was surprised at how thrown off guard he was by seeing him up close, in person. This proved just how daunting his task would be, obviously no other photographer had been able to show just how handsome he was.

His jawline was even more sharp, his skin pearly, flawless. His lips were a bit plumper, his hair shone brighter than most blondes, and no still shot could capture how he carried himself.

Mitch was staring at him, completely entranced, until he was snapped out of his thoughts by none other than Scott himself.

"Interesting. I didn't realize they were paying you to stare." Scott stated mockingly, his icy blue eyes focused on Mitch.

Maybe Mitch was delusional, but it looked like Scott liked what he saw, which was inconvenient because Mitch seemed to have a thing for assholes.

"I was studying my subject." Mitch tried to save himself so as to not give the man ammunition already. Though it didn't work.

"Do it with your mouth shut and maybe someone will believe you next time." He smirked back. It didn't help that the stage gave Scott the height advantage in the room, not that he needed it.

Mitch acted like Scott didn't say a word and just told him what he needed to do for this picture.

"You're going for that overused, boring shot?" Came the snarky response.

Mitch just ignored him again, shooting some pictures that weren't really good and moved on to the next position. In fact, much of the shoot Mitch had to do everything in his power to ignore him and not react to every rude, ignorant, and disdainful comment from Scott. It all seemed to be laced with suggestion that he was doing it just to get a rise out of Mitch.

Mitch enjoyed not giving the man what he wanted.

The problem was, all the pictures were turning out to be cold, impersonal, and emotionless, which was the embodiment of Scott, but that wasn't what he wanted the pictures to show. Maybe if Scott wouldn't deliberately act awkward and disregard everything he was damn well telling him to do, instead of what he wanted to do, the pictures wouldn't turn out so god awful.

As Scott purposefully put his legs in the wrong position for the third time in a row, Mitch had decided he had had enough.

Scott had another thing coming if he thought all this would cause Mitch to leave early. As bad as he wanted too, Mitch never left a job unfinished, and he wasn't about to start.

"Alright. Everybody out. No, not you." Mitch spat out, glaring at Scott, who, much to his surprise, listened. There's a first for everything he thought.

"You can't just kick us out." One of the managers said, seemingly shocked by the calm mans outburst.

"If you want me to finish this correctly, you'll leave us alone." Mitch stated, and apparently that was enough to get everyone to leave, probably dreading the thought of having to find yet another photographer. The door shut behind them and Mitch turned around abruptly to face the arrogant model sitting on the throne that was built for the shoot. Scott started to open his mouth to say something, but he was quickly cut off.

"Before you even think about opening that mouth of yours and showing us the razor sharp tongue we all know you have, let me make one thing crystal clear. I do not need this job. GQ had to go outside of the company to find me because not a single soul in this building wanted to work with the likes of you, no matter how pretty or famous you are. Now, I am this close to leaving, because I sure as hell don't need this hassle in my life. Everyone is gone. There's no one to impress, no audience, no nothing, just me and my camera. Can you listen and act like a decent human being for twenty minutes so we can get this done or are you going to continue to act like a spoiled diva?"

Mitch had half expected Scott to storm off, to yell at him, but instead, he looked a little, well, turned on.

He made a mental note to file that little piece of information away for later.

"It's been a while since someone had the balls to tell me off." Scott quipped, raising an eyebrow.

"Shame really, you look like you could use some telling off." Mitch smirked back, feeling a little more confident because of Scott's reaction.

"You going to follow through with that?"

"Depends on whether or not you're good." Mitch teased, liking the way Scott's eyes seemed to have taken a darker turn. "Now stop acting up and do as I say."

Mitch tried not to notice the other parts of him that seemed to be taking interest in this as Scott had immediately taken the position Mitch had been trying to get him to do for the past twenty minutes.

Mitch didn't take the photos from far away again, rather, getting up on stage with Scott, up close and personal. He hated using the zoom. He thought pictures that were up close showed more character and emotion, like a little secret.

They continued on with the shoot, Scott looking up at Mitch and biting that damn lip every time Mitch ordered him to do something. That was a picture he decided not to share with the rest of the world.

It was the last shot, they had been flying through the shoot now that Scott decided to be mature about things, and really Mitch had all the photos he would need, but this, this would be the icing on the cake.

So when Scott had kept innocently placing his arms in the wrong place, Mitch had to go over and basically manhandle him into the position he wanted. Each time Scott would lick his lips, his eyes becoming even more dilated.

"Stay still." Mitch demanded.

Scott did as he was told, watching Mitch and his camera intently as they moved about.

The way Scott was looking at Mitch at this point was just hungry, eyeing Mitch's every move as he set his camera down, walking over to him.

"Very good." Mitch whispered into his ear, and Scott felt his warm breath as Mitch bit his earlobe. Scott had apparently reached his limit.

He whimpered and grabbed a fistful of Mitch's shirt, pulling him closer. Mitch immediately found the model's lips, and wasted no time mapping his mouth out with his tongue, enticed by the sounds Scott was making, especially when he bit his lip.

Scott backed them up onto the throne, sitting down and bringing Mitch down on his lap, loving the way Mitch was sucking bruises onto his neck and pulling at his blonde hair.

By the time Mitch had started grinding his hips down on Scott, they were too far gone to remember or care about where they were.

Mitch normally would've been embarrassed in knowing other managers had walked into to check on the progress of the shoot to find them in a compromising position, but he was too excited about sitting on a throne in Scott's lap to be self conscious.

He later learned, having sex with the models while still on set was frowned upon.

But when Mitch gave GQ the finished product from the shoot, they couldn't care less, and made Mitch Scott's permanent photographer. Clearly having someone who would willingly work with Scott, outweighed the trouble they got in for doing the dirty on the throne.

At least now, they normally made it to the dressing rooms first.