Eat It or Be Eaten

The photos were surprisingly good, almost all of them. Andrzej could easily recognize the faces and anatomical details of both men. Two front-page faces caught in flagrante delicto enjoying gay sex were an appetizer for a long and high-profile media story. If things go well, now the covers of magazines will not only feature their faces.

The success burst Andrzej's heart, keeping him excited. All he had to do now was decide which photos to go to the editor with and how to play through the wage negotiations. Some of the photos were asking for exorbitant bonuses.

Andrzej carefully examined every photo that caught his attention. He checked how much someone can see on it and what he can read in it. Each of them evoked in his mind a vivid image of movement, silent screams and groans that came from the lips of lovers. The photos were good, faithful and very meaningful. Nowicki himself was surprised how vividly they stopped time. He had the impression that they would come to life again, depicting the scene from a few hours ago.

The heat made his shirt stick to his body and his throat felt dry again. If he was right, he should have two more cans of the brewery in the refrigerator. He got up from the computer and reached for a beer. The cool drink pleasantly cooled his body, restoring freshness. Andrzej sighed with satisfaction, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and went back to work.

More photos flashed before his eyes, evoking new flashes of memories. The photos were good, damn good, you could say. Śliwiński really was photogenic and sexy - for women, of course. This topic, these photos will sell sensational. For example, this ...

Andrzej looked at one of the photos, surprised that he had it. He did not remember when or how he zoomed in on Śliwiński's face at all. He didn't remember noticing it himself back then, on a regular basis. Everything was so shocking that he took most, if not all, of the photos instinctively. Perhaps instinctively, or by pure coincidence, he took a close-up at that moment, showing not naked, sex-entangled bodies, but the youthful, pretty face of Śliwiński in ecstasy.

What Nowicki could define with only one word - beauty.

Andrzej could not take his eyes off the face in this photo. He had never seen anything so cute before that would bring the most warm and pleasant emotions to his heart. Dominik's expression, his sparkling eyes, and the fullness of ecstasy were a work of art unlike anything else. No painter can capture such a moment, no actor will be able to play it out. There was nothing in this youthful, beautiful face but the truth of ecstatic love.

Andrzej Nowicki never thought that any man could be so cute, so pretty. Dominik's delicate features made his face slightly feminine, but did not deprive him of masculinity. Moist, parted lips were so sexy that they invited to kiss them. The skin glistened with sweat, giving it a radiant glow. Somewhat long hazelnut hair spilled around his face in a golden-brown halo. But it was all nothing in the face of the gleaming aquamarine blue eyes in which the ecstasy of the first martyrs was visible.

The ideal of beauty was before him.

'I can't sell this picture,' the photographer thought. 'If I did, I would feel like a profane to some holy relic. This face shows an otherworldly being, an angel walking among people, or even a young god.'

The artist's soul resounded in him, refusing to use something that is the highest art for low, material reasons. He did not mean the photo itself, but what was immortalized.

Andrzej would be a fool lying to himself, or at least he would feel this way if he tried to convince himself that at that moment, in this photo, Śliwiński was not the most beautiful of the creatures he had ever seen in his life.

"Shit," he swore aloud.

The sound and the word itself brought him back to reality.

Nowicki had about two hundred and thirty photos of the entire scene, from the moment Marczak put his hand on Śliwiński's knee to the lovers parting. About fifty of them were wonderfully compromising, where you can see exactly who is doing what to whom. These photos left no room for guesswork - they clearly and distinctly pointed to the sexual relationship between the popular actor and his manager. This was the sensation the publisher of the gossip magazine for which Nowicki worked for. This information will drive the sale of their magazine to sky-high volumes and bring Andrzej so much money that he will be able to forget about working for a gossip magazine and finally take up real photography. Fifty photos that would make him a fortune, and one that would be obscured by his mightful resolve not to spare anyone.

These photos will free him from credit and work that he hates. Not only that, they will provide him with funds for a completely new start. Thanks to them, he will be able to start his life anew… ruining Śliwiński's career at the same time.

Andrzej had no doubts that in the world now, the disclosure that Śliwiński is gay would bury the actor's career forever. No female fan who is in love with him will forgive him that she has no chance with him. No self-respecting lady of the house will want to watch a movie in which a gay plays devouring women's hearts. Goodbye to the roles of national heroes, saints and lovers. Rumors that he came to fame through the bed would rob him of the remaining leading roles. The star that flashed quickly and brightly and has only just started to establish its place in the sky will go out in a flash, leaving nothing behind. Śliwiński will be finished.

"Shit!" He swore again and got up from the computer. "What the fuck do I care ?!"

Nothing, he told himself. Do any of the starlets care about the common gray man? Why then would he care about anyone? This world is not an idealistic utopia, it is a jungle where survival is fought. Eat it or be eaten - simple. Andrzej had enough brains to know that.

He sat down at the computer and started the e-mail.

He chose a new message and the address of his editor.

The window looked at him with a blank side.

Nowicki's fingers hit the keyboard nervously without pressing any button.

"Shit!" He cursed again passionately. Why can't he do that?

Too many sensations, he realized, and he closed his email program. You see such scenes not every day and not every day you come across a goldmine. He needs to rest, sleep with the topic, and then notify the editor.

First, however, a shower, which was absolutely necessary for him. His sweaty clothes clung to him unpleasantly, and the heat and alcohol made him feel like his body was about to melt. Does he have too few problems of his own? He still has to worry about the future of a complete stranger for no reason?

A stream of cold water immediately healed his absurd scruples.

His own bed instead of a sleeping bag in an empty house welcomed him with pleasant comfort. The night was cold and his body was chilled by the shower, so he covered himself with a light duvet. For some reason, however, the sleep would not come to him. He rolled over from side to side, constantly remembering all the photos he had taken with Śliwiński that day.

It was incredible and ridiculous for Andrzej that any man would want to have sex with another. After all, there is nothing more pleasant than the touch of a warm, female body. Nature divided the species into sexes and gave some advantages not to the reproductive process itself, but also to the pleasure that the sexual act itself gives and the accompanying additional caresses. A man is anatomically suited to make penetration and not to the opposite activity. It was absurd to think that any guy would voluntarily choose a female role during intercourse, and yet Dominik's ecstatic face said it wasn't that absurd. Or is there something about this act that most people don't know, not only perverse pleasure, but something more biological? Or just… love? This boy had a face filled with that feeling. He looked as if sex was just a physical reflection of his emotions to him.

Love? Could it be that a man could feel this way for another man?

Absurd, and yet the face he captured in the photo, those beautiful, sparkling eyes full of ecstasy could not lie.