Work Text:
As Tyler scrubbed at the coffee stain on his shirt in front of the bathroom mirror, he came to a decision. Fifteen bucks an hour was not worth the stress ulcer he was probably developing trying to balance 8 latte doubles with skim in two drink carriers. It was not worth losing one of those latte doubles with skim down the front of his clothes, and it was not worth lying to his friends and family about the “internship” he’d taken on over the summer.
Giving up on his shirt, Tyler sighed and balled up the paper towel in his hand, tossing it into the trash. He rinsed his hands and wiped them on his pants.
Grabbing the two cardboard drink carriers with seven (7) latte doubles with skim off the counter, Tyler steeled himself to rejoin the fray, rejuvenated by the knowledge that when it came time to clock out, he was going to quit the hell out of this job. He took a breath and pushed the door open with his hip.
“God, finally,” the director griped as he lifted a latte from one of the drink slots, Tyler’s arm wobbling as he struggled to keep balance. “Hand these out and report back in five.” He took off his glasses with one hand, rubbing the bridge of his nose with the heel of his thumb before putting them back on. He looked stressed; Tyler almost felt bad (he didn’t). “Jesus, Martha’s got a sick kid and Brian’s still on leave, not to mention half the fuckin’ crew has whatever bug is going around.” Tyler pressed his lips together in an effort to look sympathetic. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t really care, he’d only been working on set for 3 days and the lattes were actually heavier than they looked and oh, that’s right, he was quitting after today anyway.
“We’re seriously understaffed, and somebody’s getting fucked today and it better not be me.” With that, the director pulled his phone out and started tapping away, and Tyler took his cue to leave.
He went around the set as quickly as he dared, handing out lattes to people he knew by face and not by name. The production manager had friendly eyes and gave Tyler a nod in thanks, the makeup artist smelled like clean powder and cheerfully asked Tyler if he was new, and he decided he liked her a lot more than the lighting director, who grabbed his latte from the tray with a sour expression and a grumble.
Tyler was a photography assistant. Or, at least, he was supposed to be. That’s what his resume said when he applied, that was the position he was supposed to fill when he was hired. Subsisting as a photography major was difficult enough, and with steep competition, Tyler was eager to snag a job in his field even if it meant working on a porn set. Experience was experience, and it was priceless.
And yet, Tyler found himself with his gear still packed away in his case, delivering lattes.
He turned the last cup around to read the name written on the side before a hand appeared out of nowhere and plucked it from the tray. “Hey, wait, that’s for-“
Tyler looked up to meet the boyish grin of some guy as he took a sip, then held the cup by the rim of the lid as he displayed the name on the side for Tyler. “Dun, that’s me. Thanks.”
Tyler’s mouth opened, then shut. “You’re welcome.”
Dun (?) gave a friendly grin and nod and walked away, his leisurely pace a stark contrast to the rest of the crew darting from station to station. Tyler watched him sip and stroll before he rounded the corner. Tyler wasn’t great with names, but he was good with faces, and he’d have recognized this guy if he was part of the crew, so he wasn’t. His broad shoulders and build suggested roadie, maybe.
The director caught Tyler again as he was tossing the empty trays into the trash. He assigned him to the camera manager, to Tyler’s delight, who promptly turned and delegated Tyler to the lighting directer, to Tyler’s dismay.
“Left.” Tyler shifted the lighting umbrella a couple inches. “No, your other left.”
Tyler shifted it back. The lighting director grumbled again and Tyler wondered if that was his default setting. “How did I get stuck with an intern? Where’s my regular assistant?”
“Maybe they realized what a pain in the-“ Tyler mumbled against his better judgement, before he was interrupted.
“What’s that?”
Tyler exhaled quickly and straightened, smile plastered onto his face. “I didn’t say anything.”
The LD seemed convinced. “Whatever. Grab the other stand, set it up on the other side of the bed.”
Tyler actually didn’t say anything before grabbing the stand and sidestepping the luxurious king bed in the center of the room. He forced himself to overlook the cliche of the entire setup; the satin sheets and intricate chandelier overhead in the master bedroom of the Californian McMansion the company had rented screamed “porn classic” to Tyler so much so that he half-expected the soundtrack to be one live saxophone.
As he screwed the base onto the second lightstand, Tyler let his underwhelmed mind wander, and before he realized it he was asking, “Who’s Dun?”
A grunt. “What’s that you said?”
Tyler tightened the bolt at the base as he looked over his shoulder from where he was squatting. “Dun, I think that’s his name. I gave him a coffee earlier. Average height, pink hair-“
This time, the LD snorted. “Pink hair. That’s Joshua Dun, he’s the male lead for the scene today. Christ, they don’t tell you shit, do they?”
Male lead. Tyler mulled over the implications of the title. His stomach flipped and he couldn't place why. “Apparently not. So, is like, is he- is the scene solo? Or-“
“Why, you thinking about auditioning?”
Tyler replied louder and faster than he intended to, almost hooking a cable with his foot and bringing the whole stand down. “NO, no, that’s not what I meant-“
The LD clicked a button on the controller in his hand, watching the umbrella lights turn on and flood the room in a warm white glow. “Then it’s not something you need to worry about.”
“FIVE MINUTES UNTIL WE ROLL!” A voice called from down the hall, diverting the attention from Tyler’s burning cheeks. A woman wearing a headset and a walkie-talkie clipped to her waist poked her head through the doorway. “You hear that, Bobby? T-minus five.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Bobby the Light Man dismissed her with a wave.
Five minutes. Tyler’s stomach tightened.
It was then that production seemed to truly kick into overdrive. The room was suddenly filled with people coming and going, talking loudly, setting up equipment and cameras on tripods all angled toward the bed. Tyler suddenly felt very out-of-place, unsure of what he should be doing as he dodged a boom mic and shuffled to the side of the room, dancing over the cables that criss-crossed the white carpet. He inched along the wall and squeezed past a barrel-chested crew member, almost making it through the doorway before he found himself once again face-to-face with a boyish grin and pink hair.
This time, however, they collided. “Woah, sorry,” Joshua Dun, male lead, apologized, one hand out to Tyler as he was pushed back.
“It’s fine.” Tyler stepped to the left. So did Joshua. Tyler stepped to the right. So did Joshua.
“You’re not getting past me.” Joshua joked before stepping back and to the side with a sweeping gesture for Tyler to pass him. “My liege.”
Tyler gave a nervous laugh and nodded awkwardly. “Thank you.”
Once outside the room, Tyler felt a weight lift off his chest for a brief moment before a tall, beautiful girl clad only in a black silk robe glided past him and onto the set, and the weight doubled. Upon hearing “Action!” being called and Joshua mumble something indecipherable in a low voice, the weight quadrupled and Tyler wanted nothing more in that moment than to book it.
He told himself he was being ridiculous, and was halfway to believing it by the time the makeup girl from before picked him up in the hall and asked if he’d help her clear the dressing room. She was loquacious and had a lilting laugh like a tinkling bell, and while at first Tyler was just grateful for a task, he soon found he was enjoying himself listening to her talk about music and her weekend and her boyfriend’s dog.
He wasn’t sure how much time had passed before a bell rang out and the commotion started up again from down the hall. Voices floated down the hall as people passed, and Tyler wiped down the makeup counter.
The makeup girl stopped mid-story and turned, hands on her hips, eyes on the wall clock. “That’s intermission. I’m gonna get a donut, want one?” Tyler set down the cleaning spray. “Hm,” he shrugged and smiled. “Nah, thanks. I’ll just hang out.”
She unhooked her handbag from the back of one of the makeup chairs and hoisted it over her shoulder. “Suit yourself. The cast is due in for touchups in a minute, can you tell them I’ll be right back?” As if he was waiting for his entrance, Tyler heard a loud laugh and a jovial male voice ring from the hall, getting closer, and suddenly a donut sounded really great.
“Wait, I’ll come with you. I’m, uh-“ The rolodex of Tyler’s brain flipped like a boat motor. “Hungry.”
The makeup girl blinked once then shrugged. “‘Kay. Get the light?”
Tyler barely made the little half-jog it took to catch up to the makeup girl in the hallway after setting the sign on the door to “back in: 5 minutes” before a loud exclamation from the main set floor made him jump.
“JESUS Christ, really?” The director’s voice boomed. Tyler slinked into the room after the makeup girl, following her meekly to the refreshment tables, unnoticed by the bustling crew.
Tyler plucked a donut hole from a pink cardboard box with two fingers and took a bite, watching the director heatedly discuss something with a crew member from across the room. “What’s going on?” He asked the makeup girl, before popping the rest of the donut into his mouth.
“How should I know, I walked in at the same time as you,” she replied. Tyler picked another hole from the box.
“-don’t care who, someone’s gotta get in there!” The director turned away from the crew member, eyes darting from person to person in the room before settling on Tyler, whose careful fingers hovered indecisively over something either glazed or powdered. “You!”
The donut fell from Tyler’s fingers like a toy from a crane machine. “Me?”
“You’re the new kid?”
Tyler brushed his hands together, sending crumbs raining. “Yea-uh, yes.”
The director took down his headset and let it dangle loosely around his neck as he addressed him. “How old are you, son?”
“22, 23 in December.”
The director lifted one hand as he spoke, open palm reaching slightly toward Tyler, who thought it made him look as though he were explaining something extremely complicated and extremely important. “Can I give you a task? Can I trust you with a task?”
What difference would it make? Was he busy? Hardly, Tyler figured, and if he was quitting that day anyway then he might as well leave in the director’s good graces. “Absolutely,” Tyler answered.
With a nod, the director led them through the hall and back toward the dressing rooms, leaving Tyler to power-walk to keep up with their brisk pace. “So, uh, do you need an extra camera set up or something? Because I’ll have to grab my gear from th-“
The director ignored then interrupted him. “You met Mr. Dun?”
Stifling the twist in his gut, Tyler nodded. “Does he need camerawork done?”
“What do you think we’re doing here?” The director barked a laugh. “Or, what we’re trying to do here. There’s a problem with the tech end and I’ve got the production people up my ass and we’re on an hour delay, you know what that means?”
When Tyler didn’t answer, the director flicked a glance back at him. “Oh, sorry, I thought that was rhetorical. It means we’re, uh, screwed?”
“-it means we’re screwed.” The director concurred. “We’re screwed because nobody’s getting screwed.” They stopped in front of a closed door, plainly labeled “Dun”, and knocked once. “What’s your name?”
He barely got his name out before the door swung open and Tyler found himself yet again face-to-face with Joshua Dun, this time with only a robe draped loosely over his muscular frame. Holding a croissant between his teeth, he wiped his hands on the silky material before taking a bite and smiling. Always smiling.
“What can I do for you, Rich?” Joshua asked. Tyler could practically feel his eye muscles straining as he stared aggressively at literally anything except the way the silk of the robe clung to Joshua’s magnificent torso.
Rich The Director scooped Tyler forward by the shoulders. “Josh, this is Tyler, he’s your fluffer today while we sort out the delay.”
Tyler didn’t miss the way Josh’s eyebrows raised slightly. “Oh, where’s Deb?”
“Sick, like the rest.” Rich clapped Tyler genially where his hand rested on his shoulder. “Don’t worry, Tyler here’s got it under control, right, Tyler?”
No. Tyler had never heard of a “fluffer” in his life. “Sure do.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Josh, I’ll send someone back to get you when it’s time to roll again. An hour, two at most, any more than that and I’ll have driven my car into the Pacific anyway.”
Josh laughed. Tyler couldn’t believe how good it sounded. “Sounds like a plan.”
After the director left, a moment of silence passed between Josh at the door and Tyler still in the hallway as the latter considered how he was going to break to Josh that he really didn’t know what he was doing. Before he could start, however, Josh stepped aside and gestured for Tyler to enter, which his feet did before his brain could ask why.
“So-o,” Tyler swung his arms aimlessly at his sides as he walked in. He turned to face Josh. “What did you, like, n-did you just lock the door?”
Josh jiggled the handle with one hand, looking up at Tyler, slight confusion tinting his smile. “I mean, yeah, that’s usually how it goes…did you want it open? I don’t really mind, they just usually want it closed.”
Alone in Josh’s dressing room with the door locked and all the noise from the main set muffled until it was an almost ambient drone from the outside, Tyler became hyper-aware of his surroundings. The mini-fridge in the corner, the clothes draped over a metal rack against the wall. The couch. Tyler was surprised to see he still had skin clinging to his skeleton despite the fact that the temperature in the room had just gone up by a million degrees.
Josh broke the silence. “Did you-did you want me to get on the couch, or I could stay standing? Sometimes Deb just likes to kneel,” he trailed away, and for the first time, he sounded nervous.
His nerves, however, paled in comparison to the veritable typhoon shredding through Tyler’s insides. “For….pictures?” He asked dumbly.
“You’re not really a fluffer, are you.” Wasn’t a question.
“I’m a photographer.” Tyler admitted with a defeated little laugh. “I don’t even know what a fluffer is.”
This time, the way Josh’s eyebrows shot into his hairline was impossible to miss if he tried. “How did you even end up here?”
“The director, uh, Rich, asked if I could do him a favor.” Tyler shrugged, “Honestly, I haven’t done anything camera-related all day, I was hoping for the best.”
At that, Josh laughed, visibly easing up as he made his way to the mini-fridge. “Thirsty?” He asked as he peered inside.
“Sure, thanks.” Tyler accepted and caught the water bottle Josh tossed to him. He cracked it open and took a sip, before asking, “So what does a fluffer actually do?”
Josh immediately went pink and he leaned back against the fridge, quietly clearing his throat as he fidgeted with the label on the bottle. Tyler’s chest went tight. “Well, um, between, uh, between takes, someone gets assigned to a male actor to keep them going, I guess.” A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth again and he shrugged. “Just so you don’t flag during intermissions, y’know.”
Tyler didn’t think it was possible for his chest to feel any tighter before he went into cardiac arrest, and yet- “Is that what I was supposed to help with?”
“Usually it’s a girl. I guess they thought I’d like you, though.” Josh’s eyes widened and he braced his hands out a little in apology as he backtracked. “Probably because you’re pretty. Handsome. Pretty handsome. This is terrible, I’m so sorry.”
Somehow, watching Josh struggle with his composure gave Tyler the boost of confidence he needed to survive the hammering in his chest, maybe even make a joke. “Thanks, I guess you’re alright yourself.”
He hid his smirk in the mouth of his water bottle, and Josh relaxed a bit before tensing right back up. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna make you fluff me or anything like that. I’ll have them find someone else.”
Tyler nodded. “Thanks, I-“ He smiled. “Thanks.”
Josh returned his smile and took another sip as a moment exchanged between them that felt as comfortable and natural as silence between long-time friends. When it passed, it passed with the same ease, and with Josh screwing the cap onto his bottle and exhaling in a whoosh. “Well, Tyler, it was nice to meet you, feel free to hang out while I find Rich, because he’s going to have my head on a stake if he comes back here and I’m not ready to film.”
It was becoming a pattern, how often Tyler’s brain would relinquish control to his instincts, and he found his mouth saying, “Wait.”
He found his hand placing his bottle on the small side table, and he found his foot taking a step forward. He found Josh’s eyes.
Seemingly rooted to the spot, Josh accepted Tyler’s advances until they were so close that Tyler could feel his halting breath tickle his face.
“You don’t have to find someone else.” Tyler spoke quietly. “I can do it.” He reassured, as much to himself as to Josh in front of him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah,” he breathed. “Just tell me what to do.”
Josh groaned softly. “Don’t worry, baby, I can do that.” He said, “Just stop before I, oh Jesus-“ Josh stuttered as Tyler took the initiative to work on his neck, planting his lips along his jugular. “Stop before I come, I have to save that for the camera.”
Tyler hummed an affirmation and continued to kiss along his neck, feeling the muscle strain as Josh let his head roll to the side with a sigh. “You’re making it hard,” he exhaled, before adding, “I mean, you’re not making it easy.”
Tyler summoned every sensual trick he knew from his limited experience to use on Josh as he let his hands trail into the front of Josh’s robe, palms flat against his bare chest. Warm, soft, and firm were the only words that could describe the feeling of the muscles under Josh’s skin, the way they clenched and tensed where Tyler’s delicate fingers roamed, from his pecs over his shoulders, then up to cradle his neck and play with the hair at the nape. The gentle weight of Josh’s own hands finding a place at Tyler’s lower back, drawing him in even closer, held an intimacy that was as welcome as it was unexpected.
Tyler nudged Josh’s chin up with his lips on his throat and Josh complied, letting his head fall back against the wall behind him with an exhale. Pressing his entire body flush against Josh’s, Tyler felt a flash of heat twist in his gut like a brand upon feeling Josh’s erection prod firmly against his hip.
“Should I use my hands?” Tyler murmured into Josh’s neck, never detaching, and feeling him sigh at the vibrations.
“Yeah,” Josh’s voice already sounded like a rough whisper. “If you use your mouth, I’m not going to be able to last.”
Just like that, there was nothing Tyler wanted more in the world. “Mouth it is.” Tyler said. Josh moaned. “You want me that bad?”
“You have no idea.” Josh breathed as Tyler undid the tie around Josh’s waist and pushed the silk garment off his shoulders to crumple delicately around his feet. It seemed obvious, but seeing that Josh was wearing nothing underneath sent another wave of heat stabbing into Tyler’s stomach.
Kissing down from Josh’s neck, his collarbone, his chest, and his trembling abdomen, Tyler sank to his knees. His hands settled on Josh’s hips, holding him steady.
The first sigh that fell from Josh’s lips when Tyler gingerly wrapped a hand around his cock and kissed the glistening tip sounded like original sin. The second moan that he gave when Tyler flattened his tongue to press against the underside of the head and drag wetly up to circle his slit melted into Tyler’s skin like hot butter, and the third whimper that Tyler heard was his own, when Josh’s hands pushed through Tyler’s hair and tugged slightly.
“You can pull my hair,” Tyler pulled off long enough to request, panting from his position on his knees. “If you want.”
“Fuck, yeah,” Josh grunted and obliged him, fists tightening in Tyler’s hair, guiding his head back. Tyler hummed and traced his palms down from Josh’s hips to gently squeeze his thighs, before running back up to caress the tight muscles of his abs.
When Josh began mindlessly rocking forward, pushing his cock further into Tyler’s mouth, Tyler held his hips down again. Relaxing his throat, he sunk down on Josh’s twitching cock, breathing through his nose until he felt his breath tickle his pelvis and Josh tossed his head back and moaned loud and long.
“You’re so gorgeous,” Josh began to speak, babble whatever praise and pet name came to mind as he admired how Tyler looked, engulfing him so completely. “Baby, baby, you’re so pretty. Look at you. I knew I wanted you from the moment I saw you this morning.”
Tyler’s eyes slipped closed at the praise, and he whined around Josh’s cock as his tongue played on the underside. “God, oh my god you’re an angel. You’re an-yeah, just like that.” Each one of Josh’s moans poured through Tyler’s veins like ichor, and when Tyler’s fingers met the button of his own jeans, it was pure lust and instinct propelling them.
Josh took notice. “Yeah, go ahead, touch yourself, angel.”
Tyler felt like he was going to die. He pushed his pants down just enough to get a hand around himself, and moaned in relief.
The vibrations traveled down Josh’s cock and through his very being. “Baby, you gotta slow down, I’m going to come if you keep going like this.”
Tyler slid up and pulled off, immediately replaced by a pearl of precum beading at the tip of Josh’s cock. He kept his hand moving in his pants, slowly, torturously. “Okay,” he gasped, “Me too.”
At that, something in Josh snapped, grew animalistic. He groaned like he was dying and twitched his hips forward, brushing precum along Tyler’s red, bitten lower lip. “Fuck this,” He grunted, “Finish me, please.”
Tyler gave up his hold on Josh’s hip to jerk him off hard and fast, friction eased by Josh’s precum dripping from him like a faucet and Tyler’s own saliva. He covered his head with his mouth again, sucking and massaging with his tongue as Josh’s nails combed tenderly through his hair until they froze, tightened, and Josh’s body coiled forward as tightly as a spring.
“Yeah-” Josh gave a long, syrupy moan of pleasure and came.
Tyler pulled off when he was finished and panted, stroking himself as quickly as possible. Josh’s hands returning to gently petting Tyler’s hair, pushing it aside as he helped him along, and Tyler’s chin dropped to his chest with a pained whimper as he reached his end and spilled.
They came down together in comfortable silence apart from labored breathing. Josh soothed Tyler as he leaned his forehead on his hip, riding out the aftershocks.
“We should-“ Josh’s voice sounded wrecked. “We should do this again.”
Tyler tilted his head up. Josh smiled down at him, eyes crinkled and sparkling. Always smiling. Tyler couldn’t help but return it. “Are you offering me a job?”
“I was thinking dinner.”
“It’s a date.” Tyler laughed, exhausted. He didn’t have the heart to tell him he was going to quit today, but he didn’t think it mattered anymore.