Chapter Text
"Fuck, yeah...you like that, bitch?"
Dean resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The cameras were staring straight at him, shoved right in his face to catch his reactions as the nameless brute of a man continued to pound into his ass. He forced out a moan, one that didn't sound in anyway authentic, and shut his eyes. He clutched at the sheets beneath him and pushed his ass back on the dick pushing in and out of his ass. He hissed when he felt a hand slap at his ass, leaving behind a sharp sting.
"Answer me, you little slut," the man growled, gripping Dean's hips tighter as he began thrusting faster. Small pants and moans were punched out of Dean involuntarily as the man's cock hit against his prostate again and again.
"Just like that..." Dean gasped, letting himself enjoy the sex once the cameras moved around him to focus on the dick currently fucking his ass raw. "Aw, fuck yes. Keep fucking me. Just like that. Don't stop." If Dean repeated it to himself enough times, he could almost imagine he was back at his own apartment and having sex with a regular one night stand from the Roadhouse.
"God," the man hissed. "Your hole is so tight. Shit, I'm gonna—"
"Don't cum inside of him, Derek," the director warned from where he sat in the corner of the room. He was scrolling through his phone and glanced up once to meet Derek's eyes to make his point. "On his face, on his back, or in his mouth only. You know the rules."
"Of course I fucking know that, Gabe," Derek growled, continuing to pound into Dean. Dean groaned, his voice hitching up as Derek hit his prostate again. He already knew that the cameras had had to stop filming the moment Gabriel had started speaking, and he knew every second Gabe went on was a second longer they would have to go back to refilm and a second longer Dean would have to continue faking like he enjoyed having some practical stranger fuck him like rag doll.
Not that Dean was complaining about the sex itself; he couldn't deny that it was exactly what he needed. Even when he was paired up with the burliest of guys who would never dare bottoming for someone as small as Dean, he couldn't honestly say he didn't enjoy having his hole pounded open as well as earning money back. It was the inefficiency Dean hated—he hated that their director always felt the need to speak during the filming, which in turn put them behind schedule more often than not. Dean vividly remembered the occasion in which Gabriel had talked for twenty minutes straight, all while Dean's scene partner continued fucking him.
"You can at least pretend that you're enjoying it a little bit, Deano," Gabriel commented, looking away from Derek's face to meet Dean's eyes. He pouted, then let out a chuckle when Dean yelped loudly as Derek hit his prostate. "There you go. Just like that."
Fuck you, Dean thought to himself, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from swearing out loud at Gabriel.
Derek's hands tightened on Dean's hips as he forced Dean to stick his ass up in the air. At this angle, Derek hit his prostate on almost every single thrust, and Dean was practically crying by the time he finally came into one of Derek's hands . It wasn't the hardest he'd ever come in his life, but he still over exaggerated it, falling forward on his face and clutching at the bedsheets as Derek continued tugging at his spent cock. He writhed on the end of Derek's dick, riding back on it to get the guy to fucking cum already.
"Shit, ah..." Derek moaned. Dean nearly sighed in relief as he felt Derek slip out of him and roll Dean over onto his back. It didn't take much before Derek was spilling all over Dean's face, most of his cum landing on his chin and neck while only some of it landing anywhere near Dean's mouth. A camera was pushed into Dean's face, the lens moving as it focused on the quickly drying come near Dean's chin. True to form, Dean lifted a hand to his face and pushed some of the cum near his lips into his mouth, moaning and shutting his eye as he swallowed it.
"God damn..." Derek breathed. One of his hands reached up to Dean's face and collected a large dollop of cum on his thumb. He brought it down to Dean's lips and forced it into his mouth. Dean licked it off his thumb, sighing and smiling when Derek moaned. "Such a fucking a cumslut."
"Your cumslut," Dean giggled, staring straight at the camera rather than at Derek. He blinked once, hoping the camera would catch how much his eyes had dilated, then he sighed when he heard Gabriel finally say:
"Cut."
The camera moved away from Dean's face as Gabriel began clapping.
"Nice work, boys," Gabe said as Dean sat up and accepted the damp and warm towel that was handed to him by a random cameraman. He cleaned off the cum on his face and neck as Derek stood up from the bed to wrap himself in a towel. He walked across the room and began chatting up the cameramen and sound guys. Dean covered his lap with a second towel as Gabriel came up behind him, slapping Dean on the back and jolting him forward.
"Especially nice work to you, Deano," Gabe said, laughing as Dean grumbled and continued scrubbing his face. "Never seen you swallow on camera before. You're going to send all of your fans into a sheer tizzy when this scene is uploaded."
"What the hell is wrong with you, Gabriel?" Dean snapped, turning around to look at Gabriel. "You know we're going to have to refilm everything from when you started speaking now, right?"
Gabe smiled widely then reached out his hand to snatch a sucker from a basket carried by a nearby personal assistant. "You say that as if you didn't enjoy the last hour and a half," he said, unwrapping the sucker and sticking it in his mouth.
"I didn't," Dean said, narrowing his eyes and handing the soiled towel to another PA who then scurried off.
Gabe brought a hand to his chest. "What? I thought you liked Derek," he said, sounding partially scandalized. "At least it seemed as though you did, with the way you were moaning like a common prostitute. You know I work extremely hard to make sure all of the scene partners are perfect matches." Gave smiled as Dean scowled at him. "Or at least, half-perfect matches."
"Just tell me when we're supposed to refilm," Dean said, standing up and wrapping the towel around his waist entirely. "I have to get home soon to Sammy, and I don't want to be here any later than I need to be."
"Calm down, green eyes," Gabe said. He pulled the sucker from his mouth and tapped it against his bottom lip, leaving behind a bit of red and sticky residue. "No refilming today. We're on a tight schedule, and I can't afford to have a bunch of desperate and horny porno-watching freaks breaking down my door because there hasn't been a new scene uploaded in three weeks." Gabriel smiled as he stuck the sucker back into his mouth then clapped his hands together. "I may have forgotten to tell you and the rest of the crew that this scene was supposed to have premiered almost a week ago."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Can I go now?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest. Gabriel's smile grew wider and he nodded once. How is this company even still running? Dean thought to himself, wincing at the slight soreness between his legs as he began walking toward the bathroom extension of the room, ready to shower and clean off all the dirt from the scene.
"I'll assume you'd be ready to film another scene within the next few days?" Gabe asked from behind him. Dean froze, one hand reaching down to grab his towel that had begun slipping down his hips. He sighed, his eyes tracking the movement of the other people in the room. Derek was still chatting with the cameramen and sound guys, occasionally sipping from a half-empty water bottle that was probably filled with vodka. Numerous PA's were running about the room, carrying towels and snacks trays and cleaning supplies. There was a man carrying the large camera they'd used to film the scene.
Dean finally sighed. "Sure," he said over his shoulder. He adjusted his towel then continued walking to the bathroom. "Sure, why not?"
One of these days I'll be able to leave this fucking place.
Dean shook out his umbrella as he came to the door of his apartment. The rain had begun some time while he was walking to the bus station, and a man waiting on for the same bus had been nice enough to offer Dean his umbrella. Dean had guessed by the way the man had looked him up, bitten his bottom lip slightly, and trailed his finger along the back of Dean's hand when he'd handed over the umbrella that he either thought Dean was an off-duty hooker or he'd recognized Dean from his scenes online. Either way, Dean had been careful to sit away from the man and get off at a stop two before his own.
Of course, that meant that Dean was drenched by the time he got back to his apartment complex. He'd waved to the doorman and taken the elevator up to his apartment's floor, glad he was alone so he could wring out his shirt of the water. He walked down the hall, waving to one of his neighbors, and pulled out his key to open the door. As he stuck his key in the lock, the door flew open, startling Dean into nearly screaming.
"Dean!" Sam cried, rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Dean's middle. A cough was punched out of Dean as he tried to keep from falling over. He glanced over at the neighbor who'd been outside of her apartment and smiled nervously. She smiled back before heading down the hallway to the elevators, and Dean looked down at Sam. He rubbed Sam's head and laughed.
"Hey, Sammy. You're acting like you haven't seen me in forever," he said, walking forward into their apartment. Sam let go of his midsection and rushed to grab Dean's key from the lock.
"You're home later than normal," Sam said, shutting the door and running past Dean into the living room. He dived onto the couch and grabbed the remote to unpause the show that was currently on the TV. Dean recognized it to be an episode of Doctor Who. "I thought Gabriel was having you stay over to film a scene or something. I thought you weren't going to be home until the asscrack of the morning."
"Hey, watch your fucking language," Dean said, laughing as he dropped the umbrella by the door. He took off his jacket and hung it up before walking over to the kitchen, rifling through the cupboards for something to make for dinner. "You make yourself dinner yet?"
Sam coughed nervously. "Well...not exactly...a proper dinner..." he said. As he spoke, the doorbell rang. Dean glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who was looking over the edge of the couch and brandishing the remote in case Dean decided to suddenly attack him. "I may or may not have planned to use some of the money you keep hidden in your room to buy a pizza for myself."
"You little bitch," Dean said, shutting the cupboard. The doorbell rang again and Dean went to answer the door. He smiled when he heard Sam say, "Jerk," and pulled out his wallet from his back pocket. He answered the door, handing the teenager who looked about his age his two twenties as he took the pizza and box of breadsticks from him. "Keep the change," he muttered before shutting the door in the stunned kid's face.
"I guess there's no point in me preparing anything remotely healthy for dinner," Dean said, turning around and walking to the living room. He set the pizza box on the coffee table then went to grab a drink from the fridge. As he did, Sam called out, "Can you grab me a beer too, Dean?"
"I mostly certainly cannot," Dean said, reaching into the fridge to grab an unopened beer for himself and a Caprisun for Sam. "No way am I promoting underage drinking."
"But Dean," Sam whined. "You're only nineteen."
Dean scoffed, shutting the fridge and went back to the couch. He fell into the seat beside Sam and set the juice packet on the coffee table. "I've been drinking ever since I was thirteen," he said. He opened the beer bottle with his teeth and took a swig as the show continued playing on the TV. "I've got a higher tolerance than most adults, so I'm exempt from the law." He took another sip and glanced sideways to catch Sam put on 'Bitchface #237.'
"That's not how it works," Sam grumbled, snatching the Caprisun and a breadstick from the box.
"Calm down," Dean said, bumping Sam's arm with his own. "Once you start working and earning your keep around here, I'll let you have a sip of one of mine. But only then."
Sam smiled and bit into his breadstick as Dean turned to watch the Tenth Doctor and Rose stare up at the snow falling from the sky.
"Whatever you say, jerk," Sam muttered.
"Bitch," Dean said, sipping from his beer again.