Page 3

Tristan

The studio was busy the next morning when I walked in, a little before I was supposed to show up for my shoot.

I smiled and waved at Harriet, Dorian's cute temp assistant of the week, and quickly made my way into the dressing room that had been emblazoned with a 'T' for me.

It was quiet, and I looked at myself in the mirror, fiddling with my dark curls before giving up and offering myself a wry smile in the reflection.

Makeup would deal with my hair and everything else.

Unfortunately, that left me plenty of time to fidget and worry about the new guy that I would be shooting with.

Cole had informed me of the new hire over text, and in the same text had let me know that we would be doing a shoot together to test chemistry.

It irritated the fuck out of me.

Not because Cole was an asshole - though he could be - but because...

Well.

Relationships in this business were delicate at best, especially knowing that eventually, one of you was going to be balls deep inside of the other.

I blew out a breath.

It made me sound...difficult, but I hated getting to know new costars.

It had taken weeks for Danny – my last regular partner – and I to find our rhythm when he had first started working for the studio.

For it not to be awkward.

And it had been good...until he got married and his husband had decided to take a job across the country.

Porn wasn't a job that you could do remotely, unfortunately.

Not for Studio Black.

I ran my hand through my hair again and slumped a little lower in my seat, picking at my gray sweatpants and sighing one more time.

Okay, T.

You get thirty more seconds of a pity party, and then you're going to go out there and do your damn job.

A gentle rap on the door interrupted me with three seconds to spare, and I fixed myself in the mirror with a hard look before I adopted my signature cocky smile, calling out, "Come in, Tess."

Tessa, head of hair and makeup, bustled into the dressing room without fanfare.

She was a middle-aged, redheaded woman with gray streaks in her hair and smile lines that extended from the corners of her brown eyes.

She was beautiful, and a ballbuster to boot, meaning that she was absolutely invaluable to the production team here.

"Tristan.

Get that cocky ass smile off your face and relax.

I'll be fast." She set up her kit on the counter, stepping in front of the mirror so I couldn't see myself anymore.

She eyed me critically, then tutted as she picked up the concealer.

"You should have gotten more sleep last night."

I couldn't stop myself from frowning a little at the subtle reprimand, but I didn't say anything while she did my face, and then wet my hair with water and product so the curls were more defined.

She would have called out any excuse that I made anyway, so it was best just to stay quiet.

I couldn't deny the nerves that fluttered in my stomach by the time she was done, though.

She nodded approvingly before stepping to the side, and I glanced at myself in the mirror before offering her a smile.

"Looks great, Tess.

Thank you."

She nodded, tipping my chin up and looking me over critically one more time before she started packing up.

"Clothes for the shoot are folded over there." She jerked her chin at the table on the far way, and patted me on the shoulder.

"Hurry up.

Emmett was just about ready when I saw him last."

I rolled my eyes, and stood up, stripping out of my comfortable clothes and underwear without consideration for the woman still packing up.

She worked at a porn studio; it wasn't like she hadn't seen all of us in every compromised position imaginable.

The "uniform" for the shoot turned out to be a simple white shirt - snug enough to hug my shoulders and show off my biceps - and a pair of comfortable jeans.

No underwear, of course, though I never expected any.

It was far more than I usually was asked to wear for these types of shoots, which made nerves flutter even harder in my stomach.

I snorted a little at myself.

A little weird, buddy.

You're nervous that they asked you to wear more clothes?

I couldn't make it make sense, but that didn't matter.

I was expected on set, and that meant that my identity crisis could wait.

Tess glanced me over after I tugged the clothes on, offering me a cursory nod of approval before she exited the dressing room, leaving the door wide open for me.

I padded out, barefoot, down the hallway and to the left.

Towards the low conversation that flooded from the open doorway that let into the photography studio.

"Hey, Em." I greeted Emmett with a smile, nodding at Dorian as I walked further into the room.

They were standing to the side of the set, both staring down at the camera that Emmett held in his hand.

Probably doing white balance, or whatever photographers and videographers talked about when they were on the job.

"Hey, Tris.

You look good." Dorian smirked at me, running a hand through his blonde hair – tousled right now, as if he and Em had been making out before I had walked into the room – and offering a wink before he turned his attention back to Emmett.

His hand stroked idly up and down his husband's back, and Emmett smiled at him before pressing a kiss to his cheek and nudging him away with his shoulder.

"Go.

Xander is going to be here any moment.

I don't want to spook him any more than I’m sure he already is."

Dorian nodded, smiling at me again before he disappeared from the room, and I approached Emmett, tucking my hands into the pocket of the jeans while I glanced around.

They'd chosen the living room set for this one, a favorite; it was comfortable and evoked intimacy, something that a lot of our subscribers seemed to like.

All I knew was that the couch fabric was a little scratchy, though there was a soft-looking flannel blanket draped over the back, this time.

That would help.

"Tell me about the new guy," I said, lowering my voice as Emmett lowered his camera and reached up to fiddle with one of the lights.

His expression was distant, meaning that he was probably only half listening to me, but he looked at me with a quirked eyebrow anyway.

"His name is Xander.

New to the business, in a professional capacity.

Has done some cam work in the past, so he's not wholly green.

Should warm up pretty quickly if you don't scare him off." Emmett winked, running a hand through his dark hair.

Where his husband was tall and golden and pretty, Emmett was shorter, dark-haired, olive-skinned. A little rougher around the edges, to look at. A total marshmallow underneath, though he didn't go broadcasting that.

"Why does everyone think that I'm going to scare him off?" I mumbled, folding my arms over my chest.

Emmett turned his full attention to me, arching an eyebrow.

"You're...oh, you're serious." He blew out a breath.

"You tend to be a little intimidating, sweetie.

You do that scowly thing with your eyebrows.

It isn't exactly a come on."

"My fans seem to like it," I said, wiggling said eyebrows at Emmett, making him laugh.

"Sure, sure," Emmett said, snickering again.

Then his eyes drifted over the top of my shoulder, and his smile grew a little cooler, a little more distant and professional.

"Xander.

Nice to see you again."

Here we go.

I took a deep breath, then turned on my heel with a polite smile on my face.

Only to be stopped in my tracks when I saw the man that I was going to be shooting with.

Shorter than me, by half a head.

Lithe, though not thin enough that anyone would dare call him twinky.

Good muscle definition in his arms.

Pale skin, dotted with moles that I suddenly wanted to trace with my fingers.

Reddish brown hair that was a little long and artfully tousled, as if he'd just rolled out of bed. He wore a pair of comfortable jeans, the same as me...but nothing else. His broad, defined chest was on display, and my lips parted as I absentmindedly swept my tongue over my lower lip.

He was pretty, my new partner.

When I finally looked at his face, I was met with strong cheekbones, a long, straight nose.

Lips that were full enough that I wanted to suck on them, his eyes bright and blue and curious as he looked at me.

There was a flash of heat in them before they shuttered, and I couldn’t stop myself from wondering what had caused that reaction.

And as he looked at me, a polite smile stretched across those pretty lips of his, and honest-to-God dimples popped to life in his cheeks, deep ones that I wanted to stick my tongue in.

Fuck. Me.

He was fucking perfect.

And I was absolutely fucked.

Xander

I hadn't known what to expect when I finally walked on set for the first time.

I'd spent more time than I was willing to admit dawdling in my dressing room, waiting until the very last second that it would be acceptable for me to walk on set without being late.

It was intimidating! Doing cam shows...that was casual.

Easy.

I could sit on camera with my hand down my pants while I had a conversation with my viewers, and that would be enough to get me through a few days comfortably.

This was different, though.

Not just in the scope of money that stood to be made, but the entire...well, thing of it.

It was professional.

I was on a set that had been set up so that I could be photographed.

With a partner.

I bit the inside of my cheek as I approached him – Tanner, the manager of the studio, had casually informed me that my partner’s real name was Tristan, which admittedly suited the man much better than Lance – and stuck out my hand.

"H-hi.

I'm Xander."

Immediately, my cheeks flushed, though I didn't withdraw my hand.

God, could I have sounded any more like I was in fucking middle school?

Tristan's eyes widened a little, and they flicked down my body, and then back up to my face before the polite smile on his face widened to something a little more genuine.

"Xander," he said, his voice rough and deep.

Vibrating enough to send little shivers down my spine, to make me gulp.

Fuck, his voice was even better in person.

Tristan was a little taller than me, enough that I had to tip my head back to look him in the eye.

His hazel eyes were bright and interested as they looked me over, his cheekbones and jawline sharp and cleanly shaved.

He would look good with some scruff.

It would feel so fucking good when he...

Nope.

We were not going to go down that path.

Not when I was already so nervous, half hard and ready to bolt at the first sign of something going wrong.

I gulped, and gave Tristan a once over, the same as he had done to me.

He wore a casual, comfortable-looking pair of jeans, too, and a white t-shirt with a V-neck that teased at a sharp collarbone.

His biceps were deliciously defined, his veins prominent all the way down to his long, thick fingers.

The same fingers that I had spent far, far too much time looking at the night before while I jacked off.

He looked strong.

Sturdy.

Definitely sturdy enough for...anything that we were going to be asked to do.

I flushed again at the thought of what we were here for, and I swallowed down a squeak as Tristan extended his hand for me to shake, and I accepted the gesture.

His palm was warm and firm against mine, and I ignored the way goosebumps erupted on the back of my neck at the simple gesture.

Cool, Xan.

Keep it fucking cool.

"Alright, very good." The photographer, Emmett I remembered, gestured at the couch that was stationed in the middle of the casual living room set.

His camera was in his hands, and he tweaked one of the lights overhead a tiny bit before he turned his full attention to us.

"Go ahead and sit down, and we'll get started.

Just some easy poses at first, get warmed up."

Tristan winked at me, his entire body softening a little from the tension that seemed to have been filling him when I first walked into the room.

"Come on," he said, his voice low. Husky.

Nerves flooded me, and I couldn't even enjoy how blatantly sexual the man's voice was as I followed him over to the couch.

Tristan sat down first, and then I followed suit, perched on the edge of the cushion while Tristan sprawled out next to me.

He looked far more comfortable than I did, though that was to be expected with his experience.

"How do you want us, Em?" Tristan asked, glancing at me.

Emmett mumbled softly before lifting his camera to his face and taking a few experimental clicks.

He looked at the little display on his camera, his lips twisting, and then he looked at us, nodding.

"Alright, yeah.

We're going to go casual, yeah? So Tris, as you are is fine.

Xander, move closer to him, lean into him. Get comfortable. You're boyfriends just spending time, watching TV, okay? We'll start there."

Emmett looked at me expectantly, and I swallowed hard before I nodded, letting out a shaky breath.

My stomach fluttered again, and mentally I berated myself.

This was no different than anything that I had done with boyfriends before.

This was no different than my cam shows at home.

Hell, this might even be a little bit better; at least I didn't have to see the shitty, objectifying comments appear on my screen in real time, this time.

I dragged in another breath, then scooted closer to Tristan.

I was painfully aware of the fact that I was shirtless and he wasn't, and the heat of his body burned into my side as I got more comfortable, settling back against the couch - which was a little irritating and itchy, admittedly.

Tristan stretched his arm out around my shoulder, turning into me and placing his other hand on top of my thigh.

Immediately I stiffened again at the touch, but Tristan didn't seem bothered by my awkwardness.

He nudged his bare foot up against mine, and pulled me a little closer so that my full body weight was practically laying on top of him.

Comfortable, intimate.

"Yeah, there you go.

That's good." Emmett continued mumbling as he started clicking, the camera shifting this way and that as he walked around, getting different angles of the two of us.

And it should have been easy.

I knew that.

We weren't even doing anything.

But I couldn't get my muscles to unlock.

I was almost painfully aware of Tristan's hand on top of my thigh, his fingers casually tracing along the inseam of my jeans while we waited for Emmett to throw instructions our way, and the heat of the lights beating down on us was way hotter than I would have thought it would be.

Emmett continued to take pictures, throwing out occasional directions, and after an almost unbearably awkward fifteen minutes, Tristan let out a little huff and leaned close to me.

"You need to relax, sweetheart.

Tension shows in the pictures."

His voice was a low murmur, his breath puffing out against my ear as he pressed closer, and I shivered.

"I...I don't know how," I whispered.

Embarrassment made my cheeks flush, and Tristan chuckled, sounding pleased for some reason.

"Em," he called out, interrupting Emmett muttering to himself.

"Yeah?"

"I have an idea to help Xan relax, you cool with it? I think it'll turn out some decent shots, especially if you use the black and white filter with the contrast on high."

I was impressed with Tristan's casual knowledge of photography elements that went right over my head, and after a moment of scrutinizing us, Emmett nodded.

"Sure."

Tristan hummed, another pleased sound, and he looked at me, his eyes twinkling.

"Alright, sweetheart.

Come here."

He shifted, spreading his legs and sitting up a little further against the back of the couch, patting the cushion between his thighs.

It took a moment - which was a humiliation that we would not be discussing again - but I eventually understood what he wanted, and flushed all over again.

"Um.

Sure.

Yeah." I stumbled a little over my words, but my body was steady when I stood up and sat back down in the space that Tristan had created between his spread legs.

"Good," Tristan purred.

He wrapped one arm around my middle and gently hauled me back until I was leaning against his chest, slouched down comfortably against his body so that my head was resting back against his shoulder.

The position arched my body so that my chest was thrust out, and from the way that Emmett's camera immediately started clicking, he liked the angle.

"That's good.

Good idea, Tris," Emmett said, sounding happy.

Tristan rumbled, and the sound vibrated through my back where we were pressed together.

He still hadn't released his grip from around my waist, and his arm was a hot band against my skin, making goosebumps prickle up and delicious nerves thrum through my entire body.

And that was before his other hand rose, stroking across my chest and tweaking one of my nipples teasingly.

The yelp that I let out was surprised and entirely undignified, and my cock jerked in my pants.

Emmett didn't comment, but Tristan made a pleased sound, and his fingers found my nipple again, teasing the sensitive bud until it stiffened under the pad of his finger.

"You like being touched here?" he whispered, his voice low enough that it was only for me.

The clicking of the camera faded into the background, and miraculously, Tristan's harebrained scheme seemed to be working.

Gradually, my muscles unlocked until I was practically draped over the top of him, and he made another soft sound of approval.

"Good.

Good boy.

There you go.

Relax, nice and easy.

Just the two of us, yeah? Nothing scary, here." One hand slid up so that he was cupping my throat, his palm large and warm and firm against my neck, and I instinctively tilted my head back, exposing the line of my throat for him to nose at.

"That's good, guys.

Hold just like that, Xan.

You're doing great." Emmett sounded a lot more enthusiastic now, and I relaxed even further into Tristan as his fingers dug into the side of my throat, just a little.

He drew his lips down my neck, pressing a tiny kiss to my bare shoulder, and the whimper that I let out at the gesture was just embarrassing.

My cock was well on its way to fully hard, now, and each casual, teasing gesture from Tristan did not help matters.

I had no idea how far this photo shoot was going to go, so maybe an enormous dick print in my jeans would be fine.

Maybe it would be grounds for them to cancel my temporary contract and never call me back.

I just didn't know.

"Move your hand, Tris, just a little, and bite where his neck is stretched out.

Make sure I can see your teeth, at least a little."

Tristan snickered.

"Sure, Em," he muttered, his lips brushing against my skin.

His hand moved, and before my foggy brain could catch up with Emmett's instruction, Tristan bit.

Not hard, of course.

Definitely not enough to leave marks after we were done here.

But more than enough that I could feel the imprint of his teeth, the warmth of his breath against my skin as he held the pose.

My cock immediately filled the rest of the way, and my mouth fell open in a soft moan.

Tristan's arm tightened around my waist, and his tongue flicked out to taste along my skin, just for a second.

I shifted backwards a little to accommodate the way that he was gripping me tightly, and another, undignified squeak escaped me when I felt the rock-hard length of his cock pressed firmly up against my ass.

How the hell did I miss that?

I squirmed a little, my cock throbbing, and Tristan tutted softly before pressing his lips to my ear.

"Don't be naughty," he whispered, his voice low and smooth.

"We're not done yet.

Your needy cock can wait."

My cock certainly was in the top five list of things on my mind, but just as I was about to open my mouth and tell Tristan that my cock was none of his business, Emmett cleared his throat.

We both looked at him, the fog of arousal between us dissipating at the pleased smile on Emmett's face.

"That was a good start, guys." He let his camera drop until it was hanging from the strap around his neck, retreating to a little minifridge in the corner and pulling out two bottles of water.

He tossed them our way, nodding as he said, "Let's take five, and then we'll move on to the second half of the shoot." He looked at me, the warmth in his eyes a little jarring after the coolly professional way that he had first addressed me when I walked into the studio.

"You're doing great, Xan.

Seriously.

You're a natural."

I cleared my throat, and pushed myself to stand, ignoring the way my legs shook a tiny bit underneath me.

"Thanks, Emmett," I said, my voice trembling a little but sincere.

"It's not as bad as I thought it was going to be."

Emmett winked at me as he handed one of the bottles my way.

"It usually isn't.

The chemistry between the two of you is good, that makes it easier."

I opened my bottle of water and took an enormous gulp to hide the way my face suddenly burned at the mention of the chemistry between me and Tristan, and when I glanced his way, he was smirking.

His legs were sprawled wide where he sat on the couch, the length of his cock an obvious outline in his jeans, completely shameless.

My eyes bugged out a little at the sight of it, and I had to forcibly turn away so that I would stop imagining it.

Touching it.

Licking it.

Feeling it slide into me, stretching me, making me scream...

My hole fluttered a little, but I ignored the tingles of pleasure that flooded me at the wholly inappropriate direction of my thoughts.

We might work for a porn studio, and I was probably going to fuck Tristan at some point, but that day was probably not today, and I needed to keep things as professional between us as I possibly could.

"Alright." Emmett's voice broke through my reverie, and I turned to face him again, setting down my nearly empty water bottle on a nearby table.

Emmett glanced between me and Tristan, pursing his lips as he thought, and then he nodded.

"Very good.

Let's move quick, and you two will be free to go for the day.

Tristan, up." He turned to face me, gesturing towards the couch with one hand even as his other lifted his camera again. "Xan, lay on the couch with your head on the arm rest. Tristan is going to be on top of you and hover, and we'll see what happens from there, okay?"

Tristan's gaze immediately found me, and the heat in his hazel eyes, the amusement in the smirk that played across his full lips, it made my stomach twist with arousal and mild trepidation.

That man had everything he needed to fucking destroy me, and I had the feeling that I would thank him for the privilege when all was said and done.

"Okay," I squeaked.