Someone stop this madness...

[messyjessy08]

Title: Jensen Ackles' Rules for Surviving the Porn Industry 1/1

Pairing/Characters: J2, brief JDM/Jensen, even briefer Misha/Jensen, Sebastian.

Summary: AU. Being a porn star isn't all it's cracked up to be. Sure you fuck hot hunks for a living, but it's more complicated than that. Jensen does what's expected of him as a worker, lies there, takes it, and plays the role he's given. Jared's new to this business and thinks that Jensen's kinda, really hot. Sex insues. And that's just what they've been hired to do.

Word Count: 6530

Fandom: SPN RPS

Rating: NC-17

Warnings: fluff, angst, some non-j2 h/c, and of course sex, cursing, mentions of bdsm and d/s.

This little gem was inspired by a post by big_heart_june a while back that had a pic of j2 with the caption of something along the lines of 'don't they look like two guys doing the beginning interview of porn?' answer: yes they did. And this was born.


Jensen had been doing this a long time. Like a long time.

He knew his way around the block, and while in real world standards that would make him a whore, in this business all that experience just made you that much popular. He was no Cody Cummings or anything, but he had a small loyal following of fans who loved him and what he did alike, was paid handsomely, and was on the ‘must-have list’ of many important directors.

You’d think being paid to be fucked into the ground by gorgeous men without the stigma of being called a hooker would be anyone’s dream job.

But, alas, all that glittered wasn’t gold, and the way things looked in the videos was never how they were in reality.

He had to be plucked, waxed, and tanned on every inch of his body, had a camera shoved in his face and up his ass every second of every work day, and had absolutely zero amounts of privacy. You couldn’t think, couldn’t react normally, couldn’t be less than 100% of what the people watching on the other side of the screen wanted you to be. They wanted you to be the sexy little bitch getting fucked up the ass, that’s what you were. They wanted you to roll over while six guys came on your face, that’s what you did. The customer was always right in this industry, and Jensen just followed the ebb and tide of his fan base.

There were a lot of things wrong with this business: the shadiness, the treatment of workers, the fact that a lot of the boys Jensen saw milling around shoots couldn’t have even been seventeen, but Jensen had found his niche, and until this life chewed him up, spit him out, and picked their next victim, he would keep doing it.

But it wasn’t for the cash and it wasn’t for what little fame he’d managed to acquire. Jensen kept doing his job because one day, due to the whim of his director-of-the-week, he was paired with a goofy, tree-sized guy from Texas named Jared.

And suddenly, Jensen had a reason to want to go to work.

***

“Alright, so we’re gonna start today at around four o’clock. Make sure you’re ready by then and be sure to have the outfit ready. Got that, Dean?”

Jensen nodded dutifully, years in the porn industry conditioning him to let the name slip pass. “Yes sir.”

“Great. I’m really looking forward to seeing what, uh,” the Director eyed him up and down, “what you have to offer.”

“I’ll be happy to do so…sir.” Jensen replied huskily, reaching a hand up to trail down the older man’s chest.

The Director winked at him lecherously, smacking his ass when he passed behind him.

Once he knew he was alone, Jensen exhaled deeply, taking a moment to collect himself.

In this career, dignity wasn’t exactly something you saw amongst most of the workers, but Jensen still couldn’t help but feel slimy after he had to butter up his superiors. He had never taken a spin on the casting couch-thank God-but still, if you wanted work, wanted to get a phone call for another job, that’s what you did. You flirted, you acted like the pretty-sounding little bubblehead you were in your roles, and you made them want you. That was his job after all-make everyone want him, his Directors included.

Jensen took a look around what passed for a green room around here, but in reality was little more than a small walk-in closet minus any actual clothing. A vanity mirror had been shoved up against the far wall, a small end table next to it where a variety of creams, foundations, and eyeliner were scattered across the top. He sighed, shifting the plastic-covered outfit he held up onto one of the low hanging rails.

Today’s shoot had to do with some kind of religious kink. He hadn’t paid too much attention when it was explained to him-no one watched for the plot anyway-but from what he had gathered, he was to play a priest who was second-guessing his decision to take a 12 year missionary trip to Tonga, or some shit like that. Basically, what was to happen was Jensen-Dean, he mentally corrected; he made sure not to use his real name around any of these people-would be hesitant to give himself over to the life right before a hunky church-member came to confession and convinced him otherwise. It was full of clichés and had been done before, but the costume was relatively simple to get a hold of and he knew he could play the shy, religious type, so he was fine with it.

He shucked up the plastic around the hanger, pulling out his all-black outfit and matching collar. Today’s movie would be pretty cut and dry: angst, get seduced, get fucked, fade out. Maybe, if he was lucky it’d even be over soon.

Jensen reached up, unbuttoning his shirt and tossing it onto the floor. He removed his pants and underwear (not like he’d be needing it anyway), and quickly changed after hearing the call of Five minutes, Dean through the door.

That was him-to all of these people anyway. Dean Winchester. Porn Star Extraordinaire. After a friend of his was humiliated by the people at his day job for using his real name, Jensen made a note to always use his stage name around anyone in the business. The last thing he needed was his parents to find out about the kind of stuff he did while surfing the internet.

He quickly went to the vanity, smearing his shade of foundation across his face and under his eyes, making sure most of his freckles were covered up. The first person he had worked for had loved them, said it made him look like a little boy. After seeing the disgusting smile on the man’s face, Jensen made sure to always hide them.

He added a little charcoal underneath his lashline and tousled his hair in the front to give him that sexy mussed-up look, then after giving his best aren’t-I-so-cute-don’t-you-just-wanna-fuck-me pout to the mirror, he opened the door, walking into the main room.

They were shooting in some hotel suite that had been done up to look like an office at your typical church. Crosses on the wall, prayer candles lit, all that jazz. Jensen wondered if anyone else found it poetic to be shooting gay porn on a church set, but then he guessed that was the reason they were doing it in the first place. Straight guys-turned gay vids were always the most popular, and if that’s what the people wanted, that’s what they were going to get.

Jensen allowed himself to be pulled every which way as they tested light, put him on different markers, testing the overall look of the area. It was this time, when everyone ignored Jensen the Person in favor of Jensen the Porn Star when he took the time to get into what he deemed his happy place. The quiet space in the back of his mind where he wasn’t basically turning tricks for cash, where he lived a nice quiet life back home in Texas, where he could somehow hold a steady relationship with someone who didn’t turn out to be a stalker…where he was normal. Usually, if Jensen could stay in the zone long enough, by the time he’d come back to the world, shooting would be over and everyone in the room would be clapping, calling the shoot a success. He didn’t even need to try anymore. It was like he was permanently on auto-pilot and he could act and fuck without any conscious effort. It was one of few small blessings.

Jensen waited for his cue and the loud bellow of Action! and set himself to do his job right. The guy working opposite him was hot, if not a bit older than him, complete with five o’clock shadow tinged with a bit of grey and the hard-lived rugged look of a sinner. Jensen was sure that if this were the real world, he’d be attracted to this man, but this was the cold, shiny world of porn and nothing was what it seemed, and even if it were, it didn’t mean it would last. Looks faded, hard bodies deflated, and jobs were given to the next people in line. So even if Jensen wanted it, even if he could manage a relationship in this industry, much less with someone else in it, it wouldn’t last.

He played his part, acting surprised and scandalized when the other guy-Jensen vaguely recalled him introducing himself as Jeff-pulled his cock out. Acted shy when he told him to suck it. Acted blissed out and horny when he started to fuck him with it. But that’s all it was. Acting. It wasn’t pleasurable, it wasn’t passionate. It was awkward as hell and seriously uncomfortable. His moans sounded fake to his own ears, but everyone behind the camera was enraptured so Jensen figured he was doing something right. He threw his head back, absently pissed off when Jeff bent down to bite across his neck. He didn’t kiss and he didn’t get marked. Those were his rules for working, and this douche was breaking them. It was hard to feel violated in an industry where you were paid to be violated, but Jensen was allowed some form of boundaries, and his were being crossed.

The rest of the shoot passed with little more incident: Jeff came, he came, the end. Afterwards, Jensen grabbed the robe he had brought himself, cinched the sash in the middle, and stormed to his ‘dressing room’.

Some might argue that getting a hickie had little precedent to being fucked on camera for money, but Jensen didn’t care. It was his body, dammit. And if he wanted some gruff-looking sonofabitch not to touch it in ways he didn’t want, then dammit, that’s what he should’ve gotten.

He quickly cleaned up, wiping the makeup off of his face, and threw his clothes back on, determined to get out of the hotel room as fast as possible. He pushed the door open angrily, colliding face-first with a tall wall of firm muscle.

“Oh! I’m sorry.” Tall Wall of Muscle said, bending down to help Jensen up from where he’d fallen from the force of it. “I didn’t see you there. Sorry.”

Jensen slapped the guy’s hands away from where he’d nearly been copping a feel, brushing the dust off the seat of his own ass. “Yeah. Thanks. ‘Cause getting knocked on my ass is what I needed after being here for two hours.”

Tall Wall of Muscle blushed, eyes widening in surprise at Jensen’s offhand way of mentioning he’d just been fucked. “Uhh. I’m-I. Uhh, sorry.” He backed away, holding his hands up in defense, most likely in response to the sneer on Jensen’s face.

“It’s fine,” Jensen said, picking up the priest outfit he’d dropped on his way down. “Not like my ass is gonna’ get any sorer, ya’ know?” Jensen chuckled at his own joke, righting himself and expecting to see a return smile on the other guy’s face. Nothing. The guy looked like he wished the ground would swallow him up-poor thing must’ve just started.

“Uhh…” Tall and Sexy looked around the room, probably looking for an escape route. “Y-yeah.”

Jensen winced, the poor guy must have been a crew worker or something; he didn’t seem to be very used to talking about sex in a work-place setting yet. Jensen gave him a small smile, patting his shoulder. “Lemme’ guess. New to this kinda’ stuff?”

The other guy looked from underneath dark bangs, smiling shyly. “Am I that obvious?”

“No, you’re fine. I can just recognize a virgin when I see one,” Jensen chuckled.

Tall and Sexy’s eyes went impossibly wide, his mouth dropping open in surprise, “I-I…you don’t-”

Jensen cut him off before he could embarrass himself, “To this. To working around here. Not…that.”
The other man sighed in relief, nervously chuckling, “Right. I-Right.”

Jensen gave him a once-over, eyes trailing up the man’s long, lean form. He didn’t think he’d ever seen anyone that tall before. “No worries.” He held a hand out in front of him, “Name’s Jensen.”

“Jared,” He replied, eyebrows furrowing together in confusion, “But I thought your name was-”

Dammit, Jensen thought inwardly. His cardinal rule for working, and he’d just broken it for some crew worker he’d never even see again. Whatever. Nothing he could do about it now.

“Oh, that’s just my stage name. I mean, it’s not like I could use my real one. Don’t want any stalkers following you home, right?”

Jared laughed, genuinely, not uneasily like he had before, “Yeah, we wouldn’t want that.”

Jensen smiled in return, staring up into Jared’s face, thinking of how he’d never seen such cute dimples and such a wide smile before.

“Hey. You,” Someone from the other side of the room called, gesturing towards Jared as he took down some of the lighting. “We need you back over here.”

Jared’s face fell, the smile fading, his face becoming professionally impassive, “Yes sir.”

He turned back to Jensen, shrugging apologetically, “Duty calls. It was nice to meet you, Jensen.”

“Bye…” Jensen trailed off, Jared’s retreating form already making his way over to clean up some of the mess he and Jeff had made of the desk against the far wall. Jared had seemed so sad to go back to work. Almost wistful. Like he only wanted-

Jensen shook the thought away, not needing to go there. He probably didn’t want to go back because he had wanted to keep flirting with Jensen. To get his number and find out if the sounds he made in his movies were real or Memorex. That’s what they always wanted.

But even as he grabbed his things and headed out the door, definitely not taking one last look at Jared’s long form taking down lights, he couldn’t deny the little voice in the back of his head that told him he was wrong. That Jared had to be different than all the scumbags he worked with.

He told that voice to shut the fuck up.

****
Jensen grimaced as he returned to his two-bedroom apartment, shutting the door and dead-bolting it behind him. Today’s film had been hell five times over. Jensen generally didn’t take jobs that involved hardcore shit, but he was low on his side of the rent this month and couldn’t afford to be picky. And now that was coming back to bite him in the ass.

Literally.

There was a reason he didn’t take D/S or BDSM jobs-he couldn’t handle the aftermath. Jensen preferred the ones with creative back-story and quick messy finishes, not ones where he was tied to pole in a dudgeon for four hours.

He moved gingerly into the apartment, throwing his outfit-if a g-string and ball-gag could be called an outfit-onto the couch, slowly sitting down next to it.

His ass hurt like a bitch-there was no way he’d be able to just bounce back from this shoot like he normally did.

“Hello, roommate. Rough day at work?”

Jensen turned his head towards the voice coming from the kitchen, wincing with the strain it had on him, “Do you even need to ask?”

His roommate, Misha, leaned against the doorway, a bowl of cereal in his hands. “How bad was it?”

Jensen’s head fell back against the couch, eyes closing, “Let’s just say, if I see a leather belt in the next three hours, I’m going to throw up.”

“Ouch. Sorry, man.” Jensen heard dishes clink together in the sink, and then footsteps leading back into the living room, “Well my day was less painful, just in case you’d like to know.” The cushion next to him dipped, Misha’s weight settling easily beside him. “I have Tylenol. Want some?”

Jensen cracked open an eye, looking up into Misha’s deep blue, almost irritatingly-probing eyes. “That would be awesome. Please.”

Misha patted him on the shoulder, softly, thank God, rising from the couch to fetch him the medicine.

Jensen had met Misha back when he still entertained thoughts of going to school. He had been a freshman, Misha a junior, and being from Texas and not knowing a single person, Jensen had shyly walked up to him in the library and asked if he knew where building 4-B was. Misha being Misha, he not only told him where, but decided to pull him into the chair next to him and proceed to give him his life story. How he was originally from Russia, how he was a Political Science Major and how he was so excited to be in the running for an internship at the White House, yada yada and et cetera. They had hit it off instantly, becoming close friends, and even held a relationship for a few months. After a while, it got weird, and they had to break it off. But they were still ridiculously close, maybe a little too close.

“Here,” Misha tossed him the medicine and a bottle of water, plopping down on the couch. “Wanna’ talk about it?”

Jensen grunted as he pulled himself into a seated position, opening the bottle of pills and water and downing three in one go. “What’s to talk about? I have rope burn on my wrists and my ass hurts. The end.”

Misha frowned, doing that irritating thing where he almost stared into your soul, “Why’d you take that kinda’ job, Jen? Isn’t that one of your rules? No hardcore shit?”

Jensen rolled his eyes, “Well we have bills to pay, so I had to bend one of my rules. Doesn’t matter. Got a nice check in the bank, we won’t be homeless, and my war wounds’ll heal. Happy ending for all of us.”

Misha was still giving him that look, plus he looked like he was about to start scolding him, “Jensen, I could’ve covered you. I don’t want you to get hurt, that was the number one thing we agreed to. You keep working, but only if you’re safe. I don’t need my best friend getting asphyxiated during some BDSM shoot. I love you too much to let that happen to you.”

Jensen smiled tiredly, leaning over to lay his head against Misha’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, mother. It won’t happen again. I just needed a paycheck and this is the only job that was available in the next few days. I’ll make sure I have enough saved up next time.”

Misha gently cuffed him on the back of the head, smiling fondly. “Good. Now, no more breaking ‘Jensen Ackles' Rules for Surviving the Porn Industry’. There’s a reason I helped you write those. If you bring a stalker to this place, I’m in trouble too, you know.”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” Jensen smiled, closing his eyes as he began to feel the effects of his day kicking in. “Doesn’t matter. Broke two of my rules the other day anyway.”

“Whaaaat?” Misha drew out the word, sounding comically scandalized, “Jensen Ackles/Dean Winchester broke two of his cardinal rules in one day? What is this world coming to? Are we all doomed for similar fates of failure? What happened? Make kissy-faces with one of your costars?”

Jensen groaned, blindly waving one of his hands to smack Misha in the face (and missing), “Fuck you. No. Some bastard ate up my neck like a goddamn vampire. I had bruises all over me. Although, that did come in handy today, though.”

“I’m sure,” Misha sighed, placing a hand on Jensen’s back and rubbing soft, comforting circles against it, “What was the other one?”

“Met some crew worker. Ran into him. He was really…tall,” Jensen yawned, “And hard. Really hard. Oh, but not like that. He was muscley.”

“Right,” Misha chuckled, “What happened?”

“Talked to him, told him my name. My real one,” He turned over, burrowing his head against Misha’s chest and laying against him. “Don’t think he’s going to stalk us though. He seemed…sweet. Very virgin-y.”

“’Virgin-y’?” Misha questioned, “You need some sleep, Ackles. You aren’t making any sense.”

“Maybe. Whatever. He was cute though…really cute. And tall. Did I tell you he was tall?”

“Yeah, you told me.” Misha pulled the afghan off the back of the couch, reaching forward to lay it across Jensen and himself.

“Well, he was. Very cute. Kinda’ wanna’ see em’ again, ya’ know? Buuuuut, I don’t think I will. Too bad. He was cute.”

Misha smiled, reaching behind him to turn the lamp on top of the end-table off. “I’m sure he was, Jen. Night.”

Jensen burrowed his head deeper under the covers and against Misha, comfortable for the first time that day. “Night.”

****
Jensen groaned, swinging blindly at his alarm clock, the annoying buzzing in his ears way too loud this early in the morning.

He had saved up his energy and repaired his body as much as he could and now it was time to go back to work. He still held a faint soreness in about every inch of his body, but he was sure he could power through. He had to anyway. Had to get that paycheck.

One of the Directors he had worked with before had called-thankfully he wasn’t gross or lascivious in the slightest-and had a job available for him. He hadn’t gone into specifics, but assured him it was as vanilla as the Porn Industry could be, and that he had nothing to worry about.

Jensen threw the covers off of himself, tiredly wiping the sleep out of his eyes as he rose to go to the bathroom. He looked at himself in the mirror, turning and critiquing his body. He looked like he had put on a few pounds over the holidays and his muscles were less sculpted, less defined, more smooth. Hinting at the strength and power that lie beneath his skin without advertising it.

He needed to go to the gym.

He got in the shower, quickly washing himself as thoroughly as he could, not wanting to be late. If he was working with a director he liked today, maybe there was a chance he could work with someone else he did. There were a few people he had met and became almost-friends with during his time in the business: he had worked with Richard when he did Casa Erotica XX, who was both hilarious and over-the-top; there was Julie and Cindy when he did threesomes and bi work; Matt was shy and nice and genuinely happy to be there. He was almost surprised with the amount of people he managed to get paired with over the years. Most workers could make a living doing solo work, but Jensen always managed to be put with someone, where he’d generally be on his back. He’d only ever topped twice, and that might’ve just been because they were both girls. He didn’t particularly mind though; he had the looks for bottoming and he knew it. He had a pretty face, long eyelashes, and lips poutier and pinker than any girl he’d ever seen. It was just his place, and he could accept that.

He hopped out of the shower, quickly dressing, running into the kitchen and grabbing a bagel before setting out for the day. He yelled goodbye to Misha, and made his way through door, dashing down the three flights of stairs, past the broken elevator, and onto the frigid and bustling streets of Philadelphia.

He managed to catch his train just in time, barely making it before the doors closed, and found a seat to himself in the back, where he could quietly mediate and listen to some music.

He pulled out his headphones, thoughts inadvertently drifting to the tall and shy man he had met the other day-Jared. He had no idea why he couldn’t get him out of his head, why those beautiful blue-brown-hazel eyes were so comforting, why those dimples felt like home. He seriously needed to snap out of it, though. Working distracted was one thing, but working distracted over some guy he didn’t even know-now that was complete lunacy.

He pulled out his slip of paper with the directions to the condo that belonged to one of the maintainers for the website he’d been hired for. www.itsanartform.com. Jensen snickered at that. The site’s main page had dicks everywhere, but had a little banner at the top that proclaimed it was ‘a viral home to the culturally relevant and experienced which showcased creative impulses in a tasteful fashion’. Right. Because getting 69’d is so in a tasteful fashion.

The train-car came to a stop, Jensen grabbing what little things he’d brought from home. No one had mentioned bringing an outfit, so Jensen had just brought an extra change of clothes and some of his own make-up. Maybe this shoot would have a more realistic story, one without elaborate costumes and cheap special effects.

That was just fine with him.

He made his way to the man’s apartment, pleased to find this building actually had a working elevator. He walked the maze-like hallways till he somehow managed to find the right door. Room 401.

He pushed the door open like he owned the place (directors and producers preferred the confidence), and walked into the room, taking the time to glance around a bit. The living room had already been set up with some lights, but not much else than that. The plain, white walls weren’t covered in any backgrounds, no props or anything was scattered around. That was weird.

“Dean! So glad you’re here, Love,” Jensen’s director-for-the-day, Sebastian said in his quickly-spoken, British accent, pulling him into a loose hug, leaning forward to kiss the air around both sides of his cheeks. “We need to get started. Have you met your costar? No! of course not. You’ve just arrived here, how could you? Alright Darling, go on and meet him. His name is Clay Miller. I’m not sure if you’ve heard of him? Dreadfully boring name if you ask me. Lovely little thing though. He’s in the bathroom getting dressed. Not sure why he’s taking so much care though, when it’s all going to come off, eh?”

Sebastian laughed loudly, slapping a hand on Jensen’s back, “Come now, we’re just joking. You know how I do that with my lovely workers. We’re always joking around here. Now go on, shoo! Go get ready; we have to get to work. Busy, busy day today.”

Sebastian sped off to another room of the condo, making sure everything was perfect for…whatever it was they were shooting today. Jensen sighed; he had wanted to ask Seb what he should expect, but typical to the shorter blonde man he’d rambled on and on then disappeared before Jensen could get a single word out.

Oh, well. Might as well get ready.

Jensen looked around the apartment before heading towards what he assumed was the bathroom. The door was shut, the sound of a hair-dryer whirring behind it, the room clearly occupied.

Unfortunately for his fellow costar, Jensen didn’t have the patience to wait around for him to finish primping. He hoped this Clay dude could at least share well.

He tried to remain as polite as he could though, knocking once on the door before inching it open. “Hello? Seb said you were my costar for today?”

Jensen stepped into the bathroom, turning the corner where the sink and shower was to be hidden decoratively behind a wall. “He said your name was…”

Jensen turned the corner, green eyes meeting hazel, dark eyebrows hidden under messy bangs rising to the hairline.

“…Jared?”

Jared looked, well, down at him, his mouth dropping open in surprise. “Jensen? What are you doing here? Wait, you’re my costar today?”

Jensen felt vaguely outraged that Jared already seemed to be getting uncomfortable about working with him. What hell was that? But he could remain professional dammit. Even if he had no clue what the fuck was going on.

“You’re my costar today? I thought you just did lights and stuff. You’re a worker? You? Seriously?”

Jared hadn’t seemed to learn how to keep his emotions controlled yet; he looked insulted. “Yes, I’m your costar. And I…did. But Sebastian saw me at this shoot I was working at and said I was ‘too pretty to work in the gutters’. Whatever that means.”

Jensen smiled; yeah, that sounded like something Seb would say.

“So he made me an offer and I…accepted.”

Jensen shook his head to clear it, “Wait. But you blushed when I mentioned the stuff I’ve done. How are you supposed to have a career in this?”

“Well, I don’t plan to do it forever. Pardon the pun,” Jared smiled, those dimples Jensen had thought about so much these last weeks making an appearance. “Who gets into the Porn Industry for keeps? I don’t think I could do this for the rest of my life…don’t think I’d want to anyway. It’s just to get some bills paid. Student loans and everything. I’ll just have to deal with it.”

“Well good luck with that,” Jensen pushed him aside to get a look at himself in the mirror, “and good luck with today.” He leveled him with a look, “Sebastian’s brutal if things aren’t the way he likes it. You’d better work your ass off to make it look good.”

Jared leaned against the wall opposite him, eying him in the mirror. “I’ll try.”

“Wait,” Jensen said, pausing as he pulled out his make-up bag. “Clay Miller? Really? Why not just go with Jared…”

“Padalecki,” He filled in, “And I thought using your real name was a bad thing. I mean, I wouldn’t want any stalkers following me home or anything.”

Jensen looked into the mirror, smiling at the man behind him, “Ackles,” Jensen offered, fair was fair after all, plus he’d already broken the rule, so... “And no, we wouldn’t want that.”

Jared smiled in return, those lovely, lovely dimples popping. “Sure wouldn’t.”

Jensen smiled reflexively before catching himself and turning his attention back to his make-up bag. Was he seriously flirting with his costar? He never even talked to half these douches, let alone made a conscious effort to flirt. He needed to slap the hell out of whatever spell this man had put him under, and fast. You couldn’t flirt with someone you’d spend the next few hours fucking-that wasn’t how it worked.

He thought about covering up his freckles as he normally did, but something stopped him. He-he almost…kind of wanted Jared to see them. See him for who he was.

What the fuck was wrong with him?!

“So…umm,” Jensen said, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of them, his eyes firmly on the bag in his hands and definitely not looking to Jared. “What is it we’re doing here exactly?”

Jared scoffed, “You think that’d be obvious.”

“No, I-” Jensen rolled his eyes. “The story. What is it we’re doing?”

Jared looked confused, “What do you mean?”

Jensen turned to face him, “You know. The story. Pizza boy/Naughty Babysitter? Plumber/Ditzy Homemaker? What’s the back story on this one?”

Jared’s eyebrows remain furrowed, “There isn’t one. It’s just you and me fucking. Like all the ones on the internet. Seb’s gonna interview us and tell us where to go and all that, but it’s just you and me. Didn’t he tell you?”

Jensen’s eyes narrowed, teeth mashed together, “No he did not.

***

“I don’t do these, Seb. You know that. I’m an actor; I play a part. I don’t just lay there and get fucked. There’s a story to it!”

Jensen was pissed. While it wasn’t one of his cardinal rules, he never did jobs that we’re just simply fucking. He had an actor’s passion-it was the career he’d gone to school for. It was a thought hidden deep inside his brain where even he couldn’t reach it, but if there was something to the job that involved playing a role, Jensen could feel less like a whore and more of an x-rated artist.

But it was bullshit when you got down to it. A defense mechanism. A way to ignore what he really was. Just another porn star.

“Oh, come off it, Darling. You can manage to do it just once. Especially for me. You owe me after I pulled you out of that ghastly film about the merman and the fisherman. So, lay there and like it! You know, these straight guy videos are all the rage now, love. We simply, must do one.”

“Whoa whoa!” Jensen spun around to face Jared, “You’re straight?!”

Jared looked down bashfully, “More…bent? This is my…uh, first.”

Jensen spun back to Sebastian, “And he’s a virgin?! Seb, I’m sorry. I can’t do this. I’m not good at the whole first-time kink thing. You know that. I only work with-”

“Someone who knows what they’re doing. Yes Darling, I get it. Well, too bloody bad. You’ve signed a contract, you’re doing it. Now, sit on that couch, and look happy to be there dammit.”

Jensen opened his mouth to reply, thinking better of it when he saw the look on Seb’s face. “Fine.” He gestured to Jared, “C’mon. Let’s get to it.”

***

So, have you two met before? You seem awful close already.

Jared smiled shyly-he could really play the sweet and shy virgin when he wanted to. “Uh, yeah we have. We met at another job. One he was working.”

That’s right. You’re quite popular, Dean. Think today will be any different to any of the other movies you’ve done before?

Jensen looked up at Jared, not lying for the camera one bit when he said: “Absolutely.”

***

Jensen couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe!

Maybe he was hyperventilating or something, but he felt like his lungs were going to collapse.

He hadn’t been wrong earlier when he’d said this shoot would be different than any other he’d done before. So far, he hadn’t wandered off into the back of his head once-he didn’t have enough brain power to.

Every thought, every word in his head had been zapped from him the second he and Jared got naked. His body. His cock. Every thing was fucking perfect.

They’d fucked on the couch, the floor, in the missionary position, from behind, here, there, and everywhere.

Jensen could always maintain a professional composure while he worked-that was one of his rules-but the second Jared laid his hands on him…his big, wide, big hands…that idea had gone out the fucking window.

The pants and moans coming from his mouth were genuine, completely real, and Jensen had never been happier to break one of his rules in all his life.

“J-J,” Jensen had to cut himself off or he’d say his real name. “Clay. Fuck. Fuck me harder.”

Jared moaned above him, grunting in synch with the movement of his hips. “Like that? Like that, Dean? Like me fucking your hot fucking ass?”

And he was talker. Mother. Fucker. He was a talker.

Jensen nodded enthusiastically; the idea of playing his role so far out of his head, he couldn’t care less that he seemed a little too needier than he normally portrayed himself as.

They needed to come. Both of them. They’d been going at it for nearly two hours straight. No breaks, no fluffers. Just them and Sebastian standing behind a camera. On a business level they needed to wrap it up, but on a personal one, if Jensen didn’t come in the next minute he was going to fucking explode.

“So close. So close. You gonna’ come, Dean? Gonna’ come all over yourself for me?”

Jensen moaned, “Yes! Fuck. Please, need it so bad. Want you so bad.”

Jared gripped his hips tighter, eyes shutting as he thrust even faster, mouth dropping open in ecstasy. He reached down, grabbing Jensen’s dick, jacking him in time with his motions.

“Fuck! Jared! Fuccckkk.” Jensen threw his head back against the pillow, his vision whiting out as he came all over his stomach and Jared’s hand.

Jared whimpered as Jensen’s muscles tightened around him, his hips thrusting wildly, bending down to kiss Jensen’s swollen lips to muffle his noises. He came inside him, hips slowing as he came off his high.

“And brilliant!” Sebastian proclaimed, interrupting the moment Jared and Jensen had been sharing together, bringing them back from their own world. “I mean, generally we’d want a money shot of this one here coming over you. Better if the fans can see it. But I like it; more realistic. And Dean-love, you yelled out his name when you came. His real one. But no worries, no worries. We’ll just dub that over and cut to his face or something. Lovely shoot, boys! That a wrap!”

Jared looked up from where he’d been nuzzling Jensen’s collarbone like a kitten. “Awesome. So we’re done?”

Sebastian’s smile grew fond, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Sure are. And we have the room for the rest of the day, so if you two want to stay in, take a nap, feel free. You have the house to yourselves.” He pulled his coat on, walking out the door, “enjoy!”

Jensen looked up at Jared, smiling shyly. “So.”

“So.”

“How was your first movie as an official porn star? Everything you dreamed it would be?”

Jared shook his head, his long hair tickling Jensen’s neck.

“Better.”

Read timestamp 'Say Goodbye To Your Soul (And Say Hello To Your Vanity) HERE