fic: boyfriend, boyfriend!
fandom: pitchforkslash
Rating: NC-17, like, PWP dirty voyeuristic fivesome porn.
Wordcount: 1177
Notes: I have been blocked on this other crossover AU for opprobrium for nigh on three months now. I am allowed to write some sicko rps based on this Gentleman Reg video, right? Obviously, this doesn't fit in with any kind of RL timeline. Obviously, Kevin Drew from Broken Social Scene directed the video and was there, but obviously, Owen Pallet and Zach Condon (who was what, nineteen in 2005?) were not. I like to imagine the couple as Win and Regine. Obviously, I am a freakshow and if this ever gets out I will never, ever get a real job, ever.
It's a little awkward when they get to the set. Firstly because it's actually Kevin Drew's little one-bedroom apartment on the south end of the University of Toronto's student ghetto, not so much a set. And secondly, because they slip in during a take and Reg is perched on a corner of the queen-sized bed with about a half dozen mostly-naked bodies, grinning over his guitar while the bedframe jolts in syncopation against the wall. Zach can see where the corner is chipping the paint and gouging the drywall. The tangle of people are writhing in a pretty convincing snake ball. He's seeing a lot of panty and pubic hair.
Owen has this retarded smirk on his face - trying to look cool, but pretty much still in puberty as one guy starts rutting into his friend's bare stomach, tongue everywhere - and he guides Zach over to the wall to watch the end of the song through. It's fucking catchy, and Reg lisps over the chorus, and everyone this side of the camera is pretty much grinning and thinking of England through the moans coming off the bed.
But Reg finishes up - and the crowd on the bed at least starts to slow down, reclaim limbs and shirts - and the guys with the camera look up and at each other. Kevin comes over to shake hands and Owen introduces Zach and Kevin says, "So you guys are here for the shower scene, Reg said."
And Owen says, "Shower scene-" with this barely-noticeable fold around the corners of his mouth, but his eyebrows are all up and polite.
But this Kevin guy - who Zach has read about and seen on stage once in Arizona, with his scruffy beard and his smudged glasses - notices the fold, and smiles sideways at Zach and says, "Yeah, so take off your pants guys, I'll see ya in the bathroom."
Zach is wearing green-and-grey striped boxer-briefs, and Owen's are white and snug and his belly curves down to the elastic waistband, and his chest is folded in narrow. He holds Zach's hand while they stand behind the opaque glass with the hot water running, letting the steam rise. Soon another guy steps in, and his girlfriend and they don't introduce themselves but she says they really enjoyed Owen's set last week at Rivoli. Owen says thank you in a quiet voice, and his fingers play along Zach's wrist, moist with the steam.
They stand there like that for a good twenty minutes, till they're soaking wet, listening to Kevin talk to the guys about how they want it, and some lights get set up and taken back down. And then Reg leans in and tests the water with his wrist. He grins at them, and smacks his lips and says something dumb and kind of arrogant, but Owen chuckles anyway, because they've known each other for probably ages and the guy's just excited.
Zach thinks it must be pretty damn awesome to be shooting your own video. Like it's your birthday and your first big show and your stag party all at once, and everyone's prepped and ready for you and all you have to do is sing your fucking song.
More like a stag party in this case, what with all the boners.
Reg gets in, and his underwear are red, because obviously he knew what he'd be doing in them when he pulled them on this morning. Then the shower head switches on, sputtering hot-but-not-scalding water and Kevin says, "Reg, can you - yeah, up against the glass a bit more."
And Reg says, "It's clammy, guys, ew. Disgusting." But he shoves his nipples up there anyways. And his foot starts tapping, his head nodding, and Zach feels his own body tense and ready.
And Kevin says, "Go for it."
The girl comes for him right off, she's shorter than him and she doesn't quite ask permission, but tilts her head like a harlot, shiny eyelids and dark bangs in pieces across her damp forehead. Zach keeps his eyes open while she mouths his neck and rubs up against him, wet and slippery. He watches Owen while Reg starts singing, his voice raspy and round with the echo off the tiles
Owen, who isn't half so hesitant, has his hands on the other guy's hips, going straight for gold. The guy's hand skitters from back to ass, back to ass. Reg is rocking in time to his song, quick and hard and Zach twists his mouth away from the little vampiress and urges them all closer together, till he can feel Reg's ass jumping and his head swaying, and turns the girl loose to mouth Reg for a little while.
At Zach's touch - one hand wrapped round his ribs to splay against his collarbone - Owen turns away from the boyfriend. He's got a long erection growing under the near-translucent cotton. Owen's hands on Zach's face, Owen's dick rubbing against Zach's hip. And the boyfriend gamely follows and ruts his own hard-on under Owen's ass, as they bite and suck each other's throats and collarbones. He pushes them all against the glass, into the corner, where the girl finds time to thumb a nipple, mouth a few fingers. Reg keeps singing, delight in his voice as Zach groans when someone - either Owen or the girl - curves their palm round his thigh to stroke his balls through wet fabric.
The steam is thick on the glass, and Zach turns to give Reg a bit of a going over for the camera, only to find the boyfriend already there, all over him with mouth and fingers. Then Owen leans down from behind and mumbles at his ear, breathing heavy, about the rules - right, the rules: don't come, don't touch any bare genitals - and gives him a good five strokes under the fabric with his bare wet palm. And as Zach goes jelly-legged backwards, thinking about how damn embarassing it'd be to break those rules, wondering if anyone would even really notice in the soaking wet, the girl is back on him, with her bra gone and her breasts pressed flat against his chest, kissing Owen over his shoulder as they all three of them grind their hips together.
When Reg stops singing, they stop. Slowly - like it's rude to just tear your mouth away from a stranger's fairly fucking eager tongue. The boyfriend takes his fingers away from the band of Zach's underwear, and he's grateful. He hasn't quite broken rule number one, or two, yet.
From the other side of the glass, Kevin says, "Ok, Reg. You're out here now. We'll do one more."
Reg slides this look out the corner of his pale blue eyes, half smug, half regretful. His red briefs are pretty tight. "You kids try to look like you're enjoying yourselves, eh?"
And the four of them stand still for five minutes while he dries off and gets dressed outside, and then Kevin says, again, "Alright, go for it."
Rating: NC-17, like, PWP dirty voyeuristic fivesome porn.
Wordcount: 1177
Notes: I have been blocked on this other crossover AU for opprobrium for nigh on three months now. I am allowed to write some sicko rps based on this Gentleman Reg video, right? Obviously, this doesn't fit in with any kind of RL timeline. Obviously, Kevin Drew from Broken Social Scene directed the video and was there, but obviously, Owen Pallet and Zach Condon (who was what, nineteen in 2005?) were not. I like to imagine the couple as Win and Regine. Obviously, I am a freakshow and if this ever gets out I will never, ever get a real job, ever.
It's a little awkward when they get to the set. Firstly because it's actually Kevin Drew's little one-bedroom apartment on the south end of the University of Toronto's student ghetto, not so much a set. And secondly, because they slip in during a take and Reg is perched on a corner of the queen-sized bed with about a half dozen mostly-naked bodies, grinning over his guitar while the bedframe jolts in syncopation against the wall. Zach can see where the corner is chipping the paint and gouging the drywall. The tangle of people are writhing in a pretty convincing snake ball. He's seeing a lot of panty and pubic hair.
Owen has this retarded smirk on his face - trying to look cool, but pretty much still in puberty as one guy starts rutting into his friend's bare stomach, tongue everywhere - and he guides Zach over to the wall to watch the end of the song through. It's fucking catchy, and Reg lisps over the chorus, and everyone this side of the camera is pretty much grinning and thinking of England through the moans coming off the bed.
But Reg finishes up - and the crowd on the bed at least starts to slow down, reclaim limbs and shirts - and the guys with the camera look up and at each other. Kevin comes over to shake hands and Owen introduces Zach and Kevin says, "So you guys are here for the shower scene, Reg said."
And Owen says, "Shower scene-" with this barely-noticeable fold around the corners of his mouth, but his eyebrows are all up and polite.
But this Kevin guy - who Zach has read about and seen on stage once in Arizona, with his scruffy beard and his smudged glasses - notices the fold, and smiles sideways at Zach and says, "Yeah, so take off your pants guys, I'll see ya in the bathroom."
Zach is wearing green-and-grey striped boxer-briefs, and Owen's are white and snug and his belly curves down to the elastic waistband, and his chest is folded in narrow. He holds Zach's hand while they stand behind the opaque glass with the hot water running, letting the steam rise. Soon another guy steps in, and his girlfriend and they don't introduce themselves but she says they really enjoyed Owen's set last week at Rivoli. Owen says thank you in a quiet voice, and his fingers play along Zach's wrist, moist with the steam.
They stand there like that for a good twenty minutes, till they're soaking wet, listening to Kevin talk to the guys about how they want it, and some lights get set up and taken back down. And then Reg leans in and tests the water with his wrist. He grins at them, and smacks his lips and says something dumb and kind of arrogant, but Owen chuckles anyway, because they've known each other for probably ages and the guy's just excited.
Zach thinks it must be pretty damn awesome to be shooting your own video. Like it's your birthday and your first big show and your stag party all at once, and everyone's prepped and ready for you and all you have to do is sing your fucking song.
More like a stag party in this case, what with all the boners.
Reg gets in, and his underwear are red, because obviously he knew what he'd be doing in them when he pulled them on this morning. Then the shower head switches on, sputtering hot-but-not-scalding water and Kevin says, "Reg, can you - yeah, up against the glass a bit more."
And Reg says, "It's clammy, guys, ew. Disgusting." But he shoves his nipples up there anyways. And his foot starts tapping, his head nodding, and Zach feels his own body tense and ready.
And Kevin says, "Go for it."
The girl comes for him right off, she's shorter than him and she doesn't quite ask permission, but tilts her head like a harlot, shiny eyelids and dark bangs in pieces across her damp forehead. Zach keeps his eyes open while she mouths his neck and rubs up against him, wet and slippery. He watches Owen while Reg starts singing, his voice raspy and round with the echo off the tiles
Owen, who isn't half so hesitant, has his hands on the other guy's hips, going straight for gold. The guy's hand skitters from back to ass, back to ass. Reg is rocking in time to his song, quick and hard and Zach twists his mouth away from the little vampiress and urges them all closer together, till he can feel Reg's ass jumping and his head swaying, and turns the girl loose to mouth Reg for a little while.
At Zach's touch - one hand wrapped round his ribs to splay against his collarbone - Owen turns away from the boyfriend. He's got a long erection growing under the near-translucent cotton. Owen's hands on Zach's face, Owen's dick rubbing against Zach's hip. And the boyfriend gamely follows and ruts his own hard-on under Owen's ass, as they bite and suck each other's throats and collarbones. He pushes them all against the glass, into the corner, where the girl finds time to thumb a nipple, mouth a few fingers. Reg keeps singing, delight in his voice as Zach groans when someone - either Owen or the girl - curves their palm round his thigh to stroke his balls through wet fabric.
The steam is thick on the glass, and Zach turns to give Reg a bit of a going over for the camera, only to find the boyfriend already there, all over him with mouth and fingers. Then Owen leans down from behind and mumbles at his ear, breathing heavy, about the rules - right, the rules: don't come, don't touch any bare genitals - and gives him a good five strokes under the fabric with his bare wet palm. And as Zach goes jelly-legged backwards, thinking about how damn embarassing it'd be to break those rules, wondering if anyone would even really notice in the soaking wet, the girl is back on him, with her bra gone and her breasts pressed flat against his chest, kissing Owen over his shoulder as they all three of them grind their hips together.
When Reg stops singing, they stop. Slowly - like it's rude to just tear your mouth away from a stranger's fairly fucking eager tongue. The boyfriend takes his fingers away from the band of Zach's underwear, and he's grateful. He hasn't quite broken rule number one, or two, yet.
From the other side of the glass, Kevin says, "Ok, Reg. You're out here now. We'll do one more."
Reg slides this look out the corner of his pale blue eyes, half smug, half regretful. His red briefs are pretty tight. "You kids try to look like you're enjoying yourselves, eh?"
And the four of them stand still for five minutes while he dries off and gets dressed outside, and then Kevin says, again, "Alright, go for it."