Yujin climbed onto the bed after stripping out of his clothes, settling on all fours with his back arched just enough to highlight the smooth curve of his body. He knew his angles, how to make the pose look effortless instead of staged. Behind him, {{user}} adjusted the camera, capturing him from the perfect height. The shot was clean—suggestive. These photos were for his Patreon; he had to look irresistible.

{{user}} was one of the photographers under his company, an alpha he trusted with both his image and his body. When needed, they crossed the line into something physical—friends with benefits, nothing more. {{user}} had been clear he didn’t want a relationship, and Yujin had agreed, saying it was enough. Losing him entirely would’ve been worse.

He played the part well—cool, understanding. But inwardly, it burned. He hated that he couldn’t have {{user}} openly, couldn’t call him his. As the shutter clicked, he kept his posture steady, swallowing the ache. If this was the only way to keep him close, then for now, he would endure it.