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1lostoneTitle: Almost Without Expectation
Word Count: 20k
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for this prompt on the kink meme: Arthur and Eames are porn stars. Eames has the tattoos and the bulk, so he handles the brutish top roles. Arthur is generally cast as the twink. They work together quite frequently, but both have a brusque and casual attitude towards sex. It's when Eames notes that another muscled top has been cast to pair up with Arthur in a scene, that he starts feeling some pangs of jealousy. Bonus points if Arthur can't seem to bring himself to get it up for the new actor he's been paired with.
A/N: Beta’d by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
jademac2442 who is more patient than anyone. As always, thanks to Jen for all of the things.I’m not sure if I nailed (hee) the prompt or not, but I tried. This is a truly ridiculous amount of porn. This also has very little to do with any actual porn stars-unless they’re all feeling all of the ~feelings~...
Warnings: shocking use of rimming, use of toys, voyeurism, sex on camera, felching, warm and fuzzy feelings, bastardized French, man pain, you know.. the usual.
Eames took off his sunglasses, widening his eyes and blinking at the fairly dim lobby lighting after the brightness of outside. He had to adjust his satchel to get in the door. He smirked a little towards his reflection, tilting his head so that he could see his good side.The tight t-shirt was from before he’d bulked up, and now stretched over his sculpted bicep like sheets on a freshly made bed. The jeans were a bit old, well-worn over his thighs and the curve of his arse. He never bothered with underwear, preferring instead to go naked under his jeans.
Somewhat of an occupational hazard, that.
“Morning, Mr. Eames!”
“Morning, pet. Sorry I’m a bit late. Traffic’s a complete and utter cock-up by the bridge. Bloody helicopters and everything.”
“No problem. You’re just in time. You’re off for the morning anyway. Didn’t you get my email?” Eames shook his head. Ariadne’s little cupid mouth turned down in a frown. Even her scarf seemed to droop for a second.
“No…” Eames trailed off, digging in his pocket for his phone. “Shit. It’s dead. I must not have charged it.” He made a face at the blank screen and stuck it back into his pocket. “What do you mean I’m off this morning? Aren’t I doing the dorm scene with Arthur?”
Ariadne’s pleasant smile froze for just an instant. “Oh dear. You should really go talk to Mr. Saito.”
Eames stopped fiddling in his pockets and froze mid-step. Saito was kind of like a case of the clap. There was some mild irritation, but you never really know it was there until your prick needed a prescription. Saito owned Dreamshare Films, and usually only stuck his nose in when there was something seriously wrong. The producer, Mal, usually handled the main day-to-day production issues. The offices of Dreamshare Films were located in a fairly quiet neighborhood. The property was gated, and had converted the tennis courts into a parking lot for the actors and staff. Dreamshare wasn’t one of the major players in the pornography industry, but they did fairly well. The main office area opened up to a series of small rooms. Some were used as dressing rooms; some were used as recreational rooms. Mal insisted that all the rooms be soundproofed, and they had they had enough lighting to make them feel like Jesus was smiling down upon them in case they needed any of the smaller rooms as sets.
“Right then. I’ll be sure to do that.”
Before Ariadne could reply, the phone rang. She was distracted enough not to notice the faintly worried frown Eames couldn’t help but give her. She waved him through towards the back, and he went, staring down at the floor, all traces of his cockiness from before having drained from his face.
Eames had his own dressing room of course. Mal had discovered him in Vegas, conning tourists out of their winnings on mostly the strength of his crooked grin. He walked back to his room, opening the door and shutting it behind him. Normally there would be an email for him, explaining which room he was needed, and what time his call was for. He didn’t have his laptop with him, and Robert had borrowed his charger, so he was pretty well fucked until he could connect with some sort of technology.
Eames frowned even harder. Shit. He was already more than an hour late. It was quiet enough that Eames knew everyone had to be on set. They had several different actors employed by DF of course, but lately most of the screen time had been with him and Arthur. Their website had a slightly different take on a typical pornography site. Instead of viewers paying per view various shots of gay porn, Dreamshare offered internet viewers a chance to pick their own scenarios. Sometimes they had live performances with special requests, and sometimes it ran like an auction site, with the winner getting to chose some of the main features of the film. It was Yusuf‘s job to handle the online side of things. Maybe Yusuf could help loan him a computer or something.
Eames poked his head into Yusuf’s office, located near the reception area only to find it empty. Bollocks. Ariadne had specifically said to go to Saito’s office. The email would have been a nice head’s up, but he knew he better go and find out what the fuck was going on.
Saito’s office was located at the back of the sprawling floor plan. Dreamshare had two main studios that they used for filming. One was set like a bedroom with a huge king-sized bed. Mal had designed the back two walls as large, open French doorway so that the techs could easily move furniture in and out, depending on what the scene called for. The other room was set as a living room, with a large, black leather sofa. As Eames walked back towards the pool area, he could tell from the voices that the living room set was being used. The sound of Mal’s lightly accented voice came over the small audio enhancement microphone she wore. “Non! You must be a little more forceful. We need to see him straining just enough against your hold on his wrists. Yes. Exactly. Very nice, Dom.” The light that signified that they were filming wasn’t on, so Eames poked his head inside to see if maybe he could borrow a phone from someone.
What he saw froze him in his tracks. Eames stood there for at least thirty seconds before he remembered to move.
Arthur’s lithe body was bent at what would be for anyone else, an unnatural angle. His knees were resting on one end of a coffee table, with his hands braced on the seat of the leather couch. He was facing Eames, with his head turned to look back over at his shoulder at Mal, exposing the long, graceful curve of his throat. Arthur’s wiry body seemed comfortable holding a pose that would have killed Eames’ knees while the production crew blocked the scene, setting it for the different lighting needed so that nothing would be in shadow for the cameras.
A man that Eames didn’t know was half kneeling behind Arthur, fiddling with the rubber on his half-hard dick. He was built, blonde and squinting a little down at the curve of Arthur’s spine. Eames watched as the other man licked his lips, and couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed. The man shifted slightly on the couch, drawing Mal’s attention. She blinked at seeing Eames, a small smile on her face.
“Eames! What are you doing here so early?”
Eames managed to school his face into something a little more suited for his director and smiled back at her. “Mal, my pet, I didn’t know that I was early. In fact, I thought that I was a bit late!”
“Didn’t our Ariadne email you?” Mal’s generous mouth pulled down in a frown as she walked over to where Eames was standing, kissing him on both cheeks.
“Phone’s dead.” Eames smiled. “She said that Saito was waiting for me?”
“Yes. But not for a few minutes. Have you met Dom?” She grabbed his arm, turning so that she could introduce the man on the couch.
“Mr. Eames. A pleasure to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.”
Eames tried not to notice the way Dom causally rested his hand on the small of Arthur’s back as he leaned forward, squinting slightly with his bright flash of smile as he held out his hand. Mal tisked under her breath when her phone rang and stepped slightly away from them, talking low in French. Eames took Dom’s hand on autopilot, shaking twice.
“Hey, Eames.”
Eames nodded at Arthur, still a bit narked at himself for the purely possessive reaction. It threw him for a loop. He and Arthur had worked together for almost a year now. In all that time, Eames had seen Arthur fuck and be fucked by several different people. Eames didn’t like the way he reacted. He was pretty sure that the faintly proprietary air towards a coworker was frowned upon in the porn industry, and it was bugging him that he was feeling like this.
“Arthur, darling. You’re looking precious as usual.” The ‘darling’ slipped out before Eames could stop himself. He quickly focused back on Dom, forcing a bright smile. “Pleasure is mine. You’re working with Arthur, here?” Between being late, finding out he’d been fucking replaced, and the stress of meeting with the bloody boss Eames was definitely off of his game. He hoped his words hadn’t sound as false out loud as they did in his head. Eames nodded, ignoring Dom's puzzled look and Arthur's faint frown, and began walking away from the filming area.
Dreamshare Films employed five different actors of all body types and sizes. While they did specialize in male gay film, they did occasionally have a need for a woman, depending on what was requested on the internet. Usually when that happened, they had Debbie in accounting fill in. Eames sighed and walked down the hallway towards the pool and Saito's domain.
Eames had to blink before he realized that Saito had opened the door enough to allow just a peek into the inner sanctum. Eames had worked for Dreamshare for two years, and in all that time had only been in Saito’s office once. And that time he’d been so nervous that he hadn’t really been thinking of the decor. It had been at the beginning, when Arthur had first been hired. Eames had had some... staying power issues. The first and only meeting with Satio had been with him politely requiring whether or not Eames wanted to use a fluffer, or if he preferred to just use a prescription. Yusuf was somewhat of an under-the-table pharmacist, and apparently had offered when Eames couldn’t seem to keep his dick from coming whenever he caught a glimpse of Arthur smirking up at him.
So it was perhaps understandable why Eames had less than pleasant associations of Saito’s office.
Saito pulled open the door and stepped back in order to let Eames’ bulkier body inside. It was very dark in the room. Saito suffered from migraines enough that he preferred to keep his workspace fairly dim. It was also why he rarely ventured out into the brightly lit studio. Eames walked inside and sat himself on a rather uncomfortable-looking loveseat, trying not to feel as though he’d been invited into the Batcave. He tried to look around without gawking, tallying the amount of priceless art that was strewn around the place, casually lit with enough backlighting to show off the various pieces. Eames shifted, grimacing slightly when something sharp from his pocket poked him in the hip. Oh. Of course. One of the few poker chips left over from last night.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t read the email,” Eames blurted in a rush.
“Oh?”
Eames nodded.
“Mal informed me of your technological woes. Please, don’t concern yourself.” Saito crossed to a small chair that sat catty-corner to the loveseat. “I have a proposition for you, Mr. Eames.”
A proposition? Eames straightened slightly, feeling much more confident. Saito didn’t act like someone who was ready to fire one of his stars. Or like someone who was replacing him with a younger model.
“One of our more .. ardent... admirers has lucrative job offer that specifically requests both you and Arthur.”
Eames smirked. That wasn’t new. He and Arthur had fans, after all.
“Lucrative?”
Next
Word Count: 20k
Rating: NC-17
Summary: Written for this prompt on the kink meme: Arthur and Eames are porn stars. Eames has the tattoos and the bulk, so he handles the brutish top roles. Arthur is generally cast as the twink. They work together quite frequently, but both have a brusque and casual attitude towards sex. It's when Eames notes that another muscled top has been cast to pair up with Arthur in a scene, that he starts feeling some pangs of jealousy. Bonus points if Arthur can't seem to bring himself to get it up for the new actor he's been paired with.
A/N: Beta’d by
jademac2442 who is more patient than anyone. As always, thanks to Jen for all of the things.I’m not sure if I nailed (hee) the prompt or not, but I tried. This is a truly ridiculous amount of porn. This also has very little to do with any actual porn stars-unless they’re all feeling all of the ~feelings~... Warnings: shocking use of rimming, use of toys, voyeurism, sex on camera, felching, warm and fuzzy feelings, bastardized French, man pain, you know.. the usual.
Eames took off his sunglasses, widening his eyes and blinking at the fairly dim lobby lighting after the brightness of outside. He had to adjust his satchel to get in the door. He smirked a little towards his reflection, tilting his head so that he could see his good side.The tight t-shirt was from before he’d bulked up, and now stretched over his sculpted bicep like sheets on a freshly made bed. The jeans were a bit old, well-worn over his thighs and the curve of his arse. He never bothered with underwear, preferring instead to go naked under his jeans.
Somewhat of an occupational hazard, that.
“Morning, Mr. Eames!”
“Morning, pet. Sorry I’m a bit late. Traffic’s a complete and utter cock-up by the bridge. Bloody helicopters and everything.”
“No problem. You’re just in time. You’re off for the morning anyway. Didn’t you get my email?” Eames shook his head. Ariadne’s little cupid mouth turned down in a frown. Even her scarf seemed to droop for a second.
“No…” Eames trailed off, digging in his pocket for his phone. “Shit. It’s dead. I must not have charged it.” He made a face at the blank screen and stuck it back into his pocket. “What do you mean I’m off this morning? Aren’t I doing the dorm scene with Arthur?”
Ariadne’s pleasant smile froze for just an instant. “Oh dear. You should really go talk to Mr. Saito.”
Eames stopped fiddling in his pockets and froze mid-step. Saito was kind of like a case of the clap. There was some mild irritation, but you never really know it was there until your prick needed a prescription. Saito owned Dreamshare Films, and usually only stuck his nose in when there was something seriously wrong. The producer, Mal, usually handled the main day-to-day production issues. The offices of Dreamshare Films were located in a fairly quiet neighborhood. The property was gated, and had converted the tennis courts into a parking lot for the actors and staff. Dreamshare wasn’t one of the major players in the pornography industry, but they did fairly well. The main office area opened up to a series of small rooms. Some were used as dressing rooms; some were used as recreational rooms. Mal insisted that all the rooms be soundproofed, and they had they had enough lighting to make them feel like Jesus was smiling down upon them in case they needed any of the smaller rooms as sets.
“Right then. I’ll be sure to do that.”
Before Ariadne could reply, the phone rang. She was distracted enough not to notice the faintly worried frown Eames couldn’t help but give her. She waved him through towards the back, and he went, staring down at the floor, all traces of his cockiness from before having drained from his face.
Eames had his own dressing room of course. Mal had discovered him in Vegas, conning tourists out of their winnings on mostly the strength of his crooked grin. He walked back to his room, opening the door and shutting it behind him. Normally there would be an email for him, explaining which room he was needed, and what time his call was for. He didn’t have his laptop with him, and Robert had borrowed his charger, so he was pretty well fucked until he could connect with some sort of technology.
Eames frowned even harder. Shit. He was already more than an hour late. It was quiet enough that Eames knew everyone had to be on set. They had several different actors employed by DF of course, but lately most of the screen time had been with him and Arthur. Their website had a slightly different take on a typical pornography site. Instead of viewers paying per view various shots of gay porn, Dreamshare offered internet viewers a chance to pick their own scenarios. Sometimes they had live performances with special requests, and sometimes it ran like an auction site, with the winner getting to chose some of the main features of the film. It was Yusuf‘s job to handle the online side of things. Maybe Yusuf could help loan him a computer or something.
Eames poked his head into Yusuf’s office, located near the reception area only to find it empty. Bollocks. Ariadne had specifically said to go to Saito’s office. The email would have been a nice head’s up, but he knew he better go and find out what the fuck was going on.
Saito’s office was located at the back of the sprawling floor plan. Dreamshare had two main studios that they used for filming. One was set like a bedroom with a huge king-sized bed. Mal had designed the back two walls as large, open French doorway so that the techs could easily move furniture in and out, depending on what the scene called for. The other room was set as a living room, with a large, black leather sofa. As Eames walked back towards the pool area, he could tell from the voices that the living room set was being used. The sound of Mal’s lightly accented voice came over the small audio enhancement microphone she wore. “Non! You must be a little more forceful. We need to see him straining just enough against your hold on his wrists. Yes. Exactly. Very nice, Dom.” The light that signified that they were filming wasn’t on, so Eames poked his head inside to see if maybe he could borrow a phone from someone.
What he saw froze him in his tracks. Eames stood there for at least thirty seconds before he remembered to move.
Arthur’s lithe body was bent at what would be for anyone else, an unnatural angle. His knees were resting on one end of a coffee table, with his hands braced on the seat of the leather couch. He was facing Eames, with his head turned to look back over at his shoulder at Mal, exposing the long, graceful curve of his throat. Arthur’s wiry body seemed comfortable holding a pose that would have killed Eames’ knees while the production crew blocked the scene, setting it for the different lighting needed so that nothing would be in shadow for the cameras.
A man that Eames didn’t know was half kneeling behind Arthur, fiddling with the rubber on his half-hard dick. He was built, blonde and squinting a little down at the curve of Arthur’s spine. Eames watched as the other man licked his lips, and couldn’t help the way his eyes narrowed. The man shifted slightly on the couch, drawing Mal’s attention. She blinked at seeing Eames, a small smile on her face.
“Eames! What are you doing here so early?”
Eames managed to school his face into something a little more suited for his director and smiled back at her. “Mal, my pet, I didn’t know that I was early. In fact, I thought that I was a bit late!”
“Didn’t our Ariadne email you?” Mal’s generous mouth pulled down in a frown as she walked over to where Eames was standing, kissing him on both cheeks.
“Phone’s dead.” Eames smiled. “She said that Saito was waiting for me?”
“Yes. But not for a few minutes. Have you met Dom?” She grabbed his arm, turning so that she could introduce the man on the couch.
“Mr. Eames. A pleasure to meet you. I’m a big fan of your work.”
Eames tried not to notice the way Dom causally rested his hand on the small of Arthur’s back as he leaned forward, squinting slightly with his bright flash of smile as he held out his hand. Mal tisked under her breath when her phone rang and stepped slightly away from them, talking low in French. Eames took Dom’s hand on autopilot, shaking twice.
“Hey, Eames.”
Eames nodded at Arthur, still a bit narked at himself for the purely possessive reaction. It threw him for a loop. He and Arthur had worked together for almost a year now. In all that time, Eames had seen Arthur fuck and be fucked by several different people. Eames didn’t like the way he reacted. He was pretty sure that the faintly proprietary air towards a coworker was frowned upon in the porn industry, and it was bugging him that he was feeling like this.
“Arthur, darling. You’re looking precious as usual.” The ‘darling’ slipped out before Eames could stop himself. He quickly focused back on Dom, forcing a bright smile. “Pleasure is mine. You’re working with Arthur, here?” Between being late, finding out he’d been fucking replaced, and the stress of meeting with the bloody boss Eames was definitely off of his game. He hoped his words hadn’t sound as false out loud as they did in his head. Eames nodded, ignoring Dom's puzzled look and Arthur's faint frown, and began walking away from the filming area.
Dreamshare Films employed five different actors of all body types and sizes. While they did specialize in male gay film, they did occasionally have a need for a woman, depending on what was requested on the internet. Usually when that happened, they had Debbie in accounting fill in. Eames sighed and walked down the hallway towards the pool and Saito's domain.
Eames had to blink before he realized that Saito had opened the door enough to allow just a peek into the inner sanctum. Eames had worked for Dreamshare for two years, and in all that time had only been in Saito’s office once. And that time he’d been so nervous that he hadn’t really been thinking of the decor. It had been at the beginning, when Arthur had first been hired. Eames had had some... staying power issues. The first and only meeting with Satio had been with him politely requiring whether or not Eames wanted to use a fluffer, or if he preferred to just use a prescription. Yusuf was somewhat of an under-the-table pharmacist, and apparently had offered when Eames couldn’t seem to keep his dick from coming whenever he caught a glimpse of Arthur smirking up at him.
So it was perhaps understandable why Eames had less than pleasant associations of Saito’s office.
Saito pulled open the door and stepped back in order to let Eames’ bulkier body inside. It was very dark in the room. Saito suffered from migraines enough that he preferred to keep his workspace fairly dim. It was also why he rarely ventured out into the brightly lit studio. Eames walked inside and sat himself on a rather uncomfortable-looking loveseat, trying not to feel as though he’d been invited into the Batcave. He tried to look around without gawking, tallying the amount of priceless art that was strewn around the place, casually lit with enough backlighting to show off the various pieces. Eames shifted, grimacing slightly when something sharp from his pocket poked him in the hip. Oh. Of course. One of the few poker chips left over from last night.
“I’m sorry that I didn’t read the email,” Eames blurted in a rush.
“Oh?”
Eames nodded.
“Mal informed me of your technological woes. Please, don’t concern yourself.” Saito crossed to a small chair that sat catty-corner to the loveseat. “I have a proposition for you, Mr. Eames.”
A proposition? Eames straightened slightly, feeling much more confident. Saito didn’t act like someone who was ready to fire one of his stars. Or like someone who was replacing him with a younger model.
“One of our more .. ardent... admirers has lucrative job offer that specifically requests both you and Arthur.”
Eames smirked. That wasn’t new. He and Arthur had fans, after all.
“Lucrative?”
Next
