Fic: 'Shaking It Up'
I don't like this one as much as the others from the pornstar!au, but I really want to write the next fic in the series, so...
*****
Title: Shaking It Up
Author: Never
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan, Pete/Patrick, Frank/Gerard, and Jon/Spence
Rating: R
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Warning: Pornstars. AU.
Summary: Jon’s latest script calls for a third actor - how will the others react to someone new on set?
Author’s Notes: Continued from The Business, Breaking Character, and The Newest Disney Skin Flick. Beta'd by d41j0ubu, the light of my fanfic life, arnie1967, who was kind enough to read something in bandom for me, and a_stitch_away13. For wtf27 challenge #13: Fuck or die.
***
“I’ve finished the new script,” Jon explained from his seat opposite Pete and Patrick. Spence was off gleefully shopping for the wardrobe for the upcoming film. “But we have a problem.”
Pete’s eyebrow quirked up.
“We need another actor to complete the cast.”
“What kind of role are we talking about here? Pimp? Hooker? Peeping Tom?”
He shook his head, “No. Kinda evil-computer-genius-mastermind-type…who’s really horny.”
That apparently piqued Pete’s interest.
Patrick nibbled on his lower lip a moment before volunteering, “I think I know a guy.”
***
“They’re bringing in someone new for this film?” Ryan asked, turning to Spencer who was sifting through shopping bags on the couch.
Spence nodded, completely engrossed in his bounty from a day’s work at the mall.
“Threesome?”
“Haven’t read the script.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“Don’t know.” Spence inspected a black thong with three shiny white buttons - that didn’t actually do anything except look pretty - sewn into the front.
“Is that my wardrobe?”
“Nope, this is Brendon’s. Yours are the red ones with the sequins.”
***
Crawling into bed with Patrick, Pete asked, “Did you get this guy from the same place you found Brendon?” He had to admit that he was still curious about where Brendon had come from - his plan to seduce it out of Patrick hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.
Patrick shook his head. “No. I’ve known this guy for years; we used to go to school together.”
“How come you never mentioned him before?”
Startled, he answered, “Did you expect me to tell you about every guy I’ve ever known? Because that could take a while.”
Pete didn’t exactly remember what he said after that, but it couldn’t have been good since he ended up on the couch.
***
The newest addition to the cast was a pale, skinny guy with shoulder-length red hair, rectangular glasses, a goatee, and enough tattoos to rival Pete and Frank, which everyone could see since he didn’t believe in wearing shirts. His name was Andy, and Brendon instantly loved him. A lot.
“Hi, I’m Andy.”
Brendon’s eyes were glued to the tattoos - a full sleeve - on Andy’s right arm. “Can I lick you?”
***
“About last night, I’m…” Pete mumbled. His eyes glued to the floor between his feet and Patrick’s.
Patrick sighed. “You’re an idiot, Pete.”
Pete saw Patrick’s feet move, but didn’t realize why until he felt lips on his.
***
“Can I say that I officially love this script? The Whore Is Not Enough,” Brendon said, his beaming smile spread over his face.
Ryan rolled his eyes, but didn’t push off Brendon’s arms, which were settled around Ryan’s waist.
“I mean, come on! It’s so cool! I get to be…” Brendon forced his face into a serious expression, adopting his acting voice - twinged with what could possibly be the worst British accent Ryan had ever heard, “Bondage. James Bondage.”
“I still don’t see why I’m Prostate Galore,” Ryan complained. “Why couldn’t I be Penis Galore?”
Brendon opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off as Pete threw an arm around Brendon’s shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Brendon, I’ll take care of this one for you. Ryan, to put it simply, you’re the bitch. The catcher. You take it up the ass. You’re the pussy in this pair. The-“
***
Groaning, Pete held the icepack to his balls. “What the fuck did he do that for?” He was leaning back on the sofa on the far wall of the spacious studio, a significant distance separating his tiny group of comforters from everyone else.
“I can’t imagine,” Patrick replied, his voice flat.
***
Gerard painted Brendon pale enough that the latter actually reached up to his throat to check his pulse, just to be sure. Apparently, since Brendon was playing an Englishman, he needed to be extra pale - even for one of Gee’s movies - because there’s no such thing as a sun over in England. At least, that’s how Brendon interpreted the grunt Gee made somewhere between his left ass cheek and his groin.
Brendon was already finished with makeup when Andy marched in for his allotted appointment with Gee. Andy took off his shorts, as that was all he’d worn since arriving on set, and stood in front of the mirror. Gerard carefully inspected him, making several circles around Andy’s pale body before picking up a single container and powdering Andy’s nose. Then, with a smile of approval, Gee nodded and put away his makeup.
***
“I don’t get it,” Brendon complained. He held his costume in his right hand, carefully studying it as if it would just start explaining its existence to him.
“It’s a fucking thong,” Spencer said. “What’s not to get?”
Brendon held up the thong so that Spence could see the white buttons in the front. “What are the buttons for?”
Spence just glared.
“Why have buttons that don’t do anything? I don’t get it.”
“Do you want something else?”
Brendon knew. He knew that the falsely sweet tone to Spencer’s voice was trouble. He knew. But that didn’t seem to stop him from nodding.
Spencer smirked as he yanked the black thong out of Brendon’s hands and ordered Brendon to come back in half an hour.
***
Blinking down at the newly-altered black thong, Brendon muttered, “This isn’t exactly what I meant.”
“Then you should be more careful next time.”
Somehow, Brendon didn’t think Spence was talking about the clarity of Brendon’s request.
***
Frank finally managed to rein in his giggles, only three minutes and fourteen seconds after starting. That was pretty good for him. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned to Spence, “I totally want a pair like that - mini-gun holster and all.” He pointed towards the black thong Brendon was wearing to dispel any questions of what he was talking about.
Spence looked pretty smug. Brendon just looked confused.
“Only…can I get the little bowtie with black and white stripes instead of all white?”
“You got it.”
Frank studied the thong another moment, then added, “And can I get one with a red bowtie for Gee?”
***
“Do you think that men can have babies?” Brendon asked the group, though he never took his eyes - or his hands - off of Andy.
“It’s physically impossible,” Ryan answered. “Why?”
“Well, if men could have babies, I would totally want to have Andy’s.”
Andy, to his credit, just smiled indulgently down at Brendon, and ruffled his hair.
Ryan, on the other hand, fumed.
And Spencer simply looked at Brendon like he was an idiot, which, admittedly, wasn’t all that different from his usual expression when looking at Brendon.
Brendon reached over to drag Ryan to him, beaming at his lover. “I’d totally still be married to you, Ryan. Andy would just be my man on the side…and the father of two of my five children. But those other three would so be yours.”
Ryan didn’t say anything, but after Brendon released Andy long enough to wrap himself around Ryan and nuzzle the skin under his ear, the side of Ryan’s mouth rose slightly.
With his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck, Brendon whispered, “Maybe even the other four.”
A second later, Brendon felt Ryan’s hands settle on his hips and guide him towards Spencer’s deserted wardrobe closet. Brendon knew they were totally going to have ‘reaffirming the relationship’ sex, which was fine since it was sort of his favorite kind.
***
“Okay,” Pete shouted to his army of workers, “is everyone set?”
Pete plopped down in his Director’s chair after a chorus of affirmatives answered him. From somewhere off to the left, he could hear Brendon telling someone, “But I still don’t get it! Why have buttons that don’t do anything?”
Ignoring Brendon, Pete yelled, “Action!”
***
Ryan was tied - naked - to the bed as Brendon ran in, wearing nothing but his black thong with the useless white buttons. Ryan was pretty sure there were also a tiny white bowtie and a three-inch-long gun holster that Spence must have sewn on at some point. Once Brendon finished taking in the room, it was Ryan’s cue. “Oh James! Save me!” he exclaimed with a dull voice.
Brendon opened his mouth and let loose a truly horrible British accent. “Of course, Prostate!”
“Not so fast, Bondage,” Andy countered, revealing himself by stepping out of the closet. Huh, sometimes even Jon could be clever when writing.
“Oh no!” Brendon’s eyes widened. “It’s the evil Dr. Evil!” Did Ryan mention the terrible accent?
“Yes, and you’re not going anywhere,” Andy smirked. “You see, I’m an evil computer genius trying to take over the world. And I’m horny.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Seriously. The worst British accent ever.
“You’re going to remedy that. I’m giving you the option: fuck or die.”
Ryan frowned slightly, which was as close to ‘sobbing’ as he was ever going to get onscreen. Or off-screen. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to watch you fuck. Then I’m going to join in. If you don’t, you DIE!”
“Oh, please, James. Save us!”
Brendon’s nostrils flared as he obviously weighed the options. “We have to, Prostate; we have no choice.” He tore off the black thong and climbed on top of Ryan, “Do it for your country.”
end
Continued in: Just Like the Oscars
*****
Title: Shaking It Up
Author: Never
Pairing: Brendon/Ryan, Pete/Patrick, Frank/Gerard, and Jon/Spence
Rating: R
Disclaimer: So not mine.
Warning: Pornstars. AU.
Summary: Jon’s latest script calls for a third actor - how will the others react to someone new on set?
Author’s Notes: Continued from The Business, Breaking Character, and The Newest Disney Skin Flick. Beta'd by d41j0ubu, the light of my fanfic life, arnie1967, who was kind enough to read something in bandom for me, and a_stitch_away13. For wtf27 challenge #13: Fuck or die.
***
“I’ve finished the new script,” Jon explained from his seat opposite Pete and Patrick. Spence was off gleefully shopping for the wardrobe for the upcoming film. “But we have a problem.”
Pete’s eyebrow quirked up.
“We need another actor to complete the cast.”
“What kind of role are we talking about here? Pimp? Hooker? Peeping Tom?”
He shook his head, “No. Kinda evil-computer-genius-mastermind-type…who’s really horny.”
That apparently piqued Pete’s interest.
Patrick nibbled on his lower lip a moment before volunteering, “I think I know a guy.”
***
“They’re bringing in someone new for this film?” Ryan asked, turning to Spencer who was sifting through shopping bags on the couch.
Spence nodded, completely engrossed in his bounty from a day’s work at the mall.
“Threesome?”
“Haven’t read the script.”
“Who’s the guy?”
“Don’t know.” Spence inspected a black thong with three shiny white buttons - that didn’t actually do anything except look pretty - sewn into the front.
“Is that my wardrobe?”
“Nope, this is Brendon’s. Yours are the red ones with the sequins.”
***
Crawling into bed with Patrick, Pete asked, “Did you get this guy from the same place you found Brendon?” He had to admit that he was still curious about where Brendon had come from - his plan to seduce it out of Patrick hadn’t exactly gone according to plan.
Patrick shook his head. “No. I’ve known this guy for years; we used to go to school together.”
“How come you never mentioned him before?”
Startled, he answered, “Did you expect me to tell you about every guy I’ve ever known? Because that could take a while.”
Pete didn’t exactly remember what he said after that, but it couldn’t have been good since he ended up on the couch.
***
The newest addition to the cast was a pale, skinny guy with shoulder-length red hair, rectangular glasses, a goatee, and enough tattoos to rival Pete and Frank, which everyone could see since he didn’t believe in wearing shirts. His name was Andy, and Brendon instantly loved him. A lot.
“Hi, I’m Andy.”
Brendon’s eyes were glued to the tattoos - a full sleeve - on Andy’s right arm. “Can I lick you?”
***
“About last night, I’m…” Pete mumbled. His eyes glued to the floor between his feet and Patrick’s.
Patrick sighed. “You’re an idiot, Pete.”
Pete saw Patrick’s feet move, but didn’t realize why until he felt lips on his.
***
“Can I say that I officially love this script? The Whore Is Not Enough,” Brendon said, his beaming smile spread over his face.
Ryan rolled his eyes, but didn’t push off Brendon’s arms, which were settled around Ryan’s waist.
“I mean, come on! It’s so cool! I get to be…” Brendon forced his face into a serious expression, adopting his acting voice - twinged with what could possibly be the worst British accent Ryan had ever heard, “Bondage. James Bondage.”
“I still don’t see why I’m Prostate Galore,” Ryan complained. “Why couldn’t I be Penis Galore?”
Brendon opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off as Pete threw an arm around Brendon’s shoulders.
“Don’t worry, Brendon, I’ll take care of this one for you. Ryan, to put it simply, you’re the bitch. The catcher. You take it up the ass. You’re the pussy in this pair. The-“
***
Groaning, Pete held the icepack to his balls. “What the fuck did he do that for?” He was leaning back on the sofa on the far wall of the spacious studio, a significant distance separating his tiny group of comforters from everyone else.
“I can’t imagine,” Patrick replied, his voice flat.
***
Gerard painted Brendon pale enough that the latter actually reached up to his throat to check his pulse, just to be sure. Apparently, since Brendon was playing an Englishman, he needed to be extra pale - even for one of Gee’s movies - because there’s no such thing as a sun over in England. At least, that’s how Brendon interpreted the grunt Gee made somewhere between his left ass cheek and his groin.
Brendon was already finished with makeup when Andy marched in for his allotted appointment with Gee. Andy took off his shorts, as that was all he’d worn since arriving on set, and stood in front of the mirror. Gerard carefully inspected him, making several circles around Andy’s pale body before picking up a single container and powdering Andy’s nose. Then, with a smile of approval, Gee nodded and put away his makeup.
***
“I don’t get it,” Brendon complained. He held his costume in his right hand, carefully studying it as if it would just start explaining its existence to him.
“It’s a fucking thong,” Spencer said. “What’s not to get?”
Brendon held up the thong so that Spence could see the white buttons in the front. “What are the buttons for?”
Spence just glared.
“Why have buttons that don’t do anything? I don’t get it.”
“Do you want something else?”
Brendon knew. He knew that the falsely sweet tone to Spencer’s voice was trouble. He knew. But that didn’t seem to stop him from nodding.
Spencer smirked as he yanked the black thong out of Brendon’s hands and ordered Brendon to come back in half an hour.
***
Blinking down at the newly-altered black thong, Brendon muttered, “This isn’t exactly what I meant.”
“Then you should be more careful next time.”
Somehow, Brendon didn’t think Spence was talking about the clarity of Brendon’s request.
***
Frank finally managed to rein in his giggles, only three minutes and fourteen seconds after starting. That was pretty good for him. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he turned to Spence, “I totally want a pair like that - mini-gun holster and all.” He pointed towards the black thong Brendon was wearing to dispel any questions of what he was talking about.
Spence looked pretty smug. Brendon just looked confused.
“Only…can I get the little bowtie with black and white stripes instead of all white?”
“You got it.”
Frank studied the thong another moment, then added, “And can I get one with a red bowtie for Gee?”
***
“Do you think that men can have babies?” Brendon asked the group, though he never took his eyes - or his hands - off of Andy.
“It’s physically impossible,” Ryan answered. “Why?”
“Well, if men could have babies, I would totally want to have Andy’s.”
Andy, to his credit, just smiled indulgently down at Brendon, and ruffled his hair.
Ryan, on the other hand, fumed.
And Spencer simply looked at Brendon like he was an idiot, which, admittedly, wasn’t all that different from his usual expression when looking at Brendon.
Brendon reached over to drag Ryan to him, beaming at his lover. “I’d totally still be married to you, Ryan. Andy would just be my man on the side…and the father of two of my five children. But those other three would so be yours.”
Ryan didn’t say anything, but after Brendon released Andy long enough to wrap himself around Ryan and nuzzle the skin under his ear, the side of Ryan’s mouth rose slightly.
With his face buried in his boyfriend’s neck, Brendon whispered, “Maybe even the other four.”
A second later, Brendon felt Ryan’s hands settle on his hips and guide him towards Spencer’s deserted wardrobe closet. Brendon knew they were totally going to have ‘reaffirming the relationship’ sex, which was fine since it was sort of his favorite kind.
***
“Okay,” Pete shouted to his army of workers, “is everyone set?”
Pete plopped down in his Director’s chair after a chorus of affirmatives answered him. From somewhere off to the left, he could hear Brendon telling someone, “But I still don’t get it! Why have buttons that don’t do anything?”
Ignoring Brendon, Pete yelled, “Action!”
***
Ryan was tied - naked - to the bed as Brendon ran in, wearing nothing but his black thong with the useless white buttons. Ryan was pretty sure there were also a tiny white bowtie and a three-inch-long gun holster that Spence must have sewn on at some point. Once Brendon finished taking in the room, it was Ryan’s cue. “Oh James! Save me!” he exclaimed with a dull voice.
Brendon opened his mouth and let loose a truly horrible British accent. “Of course, Prostate!”
“Not so fast, Bondage,” Andy countered, revealing himself by stepping out of the closet. Huh, sometimes even Jon could be clever when writing.
“Oh no!” Brendon’s eyes widened. “It’s the evil Dr. Evil!” Did Ryan mention the terrible accent?
“Yes, and you’re not going anywhere,” Andy smirked. “You see, I’m an evil computer genius trying to take over the world. And I’m horny.”
“What does that have to do with us?” Seriously. The worst British accent ever.
“You’re going to remedy that. I’m giving you the option: fuck or die.”
Ryan frowned slightly, which was as close to ‘sobbing’ as he was ever going to get onscreen. Or off-screen. “What do you mean?”
“I’m going to watch you fuck. Then I’m going to join in. If you don’t, you DIE!”
“Oh, please, James. Save us!”
Brendon’s nostrils flared as he obviously weighed the options. “We have to, Prostate; we have no choice.” He tore off the black thong and climbed on top of Ryan, “Do it for your country.”
end
Continued in: Just Like the Oscars