There's something missing.
Sinbad watches the video back over again, brows furrowed in consternation. No, everything certainly looks good-the performers had been on their game, the lighting was perfect, the sound work...satisfactory.
But there could be more.
Irritably, he hits play on the DVD player, watching the young man shimmy up a thick cock, eyes half-closed in what is either unfeigned pleasure or the best damned acting Sinbad's ever seen, whining when he's pulled off to have his face shoved on another man's dick. That's what we're missing. And his keeper is hardly going to let him out of the playpen, he thinks in annoyance, flicking a disgusted glare at the Kou Studios logo on the back of the case.
If only Sindria could get their hands on someone like that, someone genuine and naturally sexy, someone with some proper meat on them in all the right places, someone who stayed fresh and new no matter how many times he appeared…
Sinbad casts a glance at Ja'far, then waves a hand. "Come up with me to the roof? I'm dying for a smoke."
Ja'far isn't a smoker. He tells himself this, no matter how the word smoke makes him lift his head, fingers pausing in their ceaseless typing. No, it's stress relief only, he tells himself. It isn't as if he ever buys cigarettes, anyway.
He just borrows Sinbad's.
"Fine. When we get back, there's quite a bit for you to sign." Ja'far pushes up from his chair, brushing off imaginary dust from the oversized sweater that keeps off the relative chill of the office-and deters one too many wandering eyes that seem to exist, for one reason or another. A useful thing, when one simply does the books for a pornography (sorry, modeling, wasn't that the more PC term?) studio. "You need to stop watching those videos over and over again to procrastinate."
"Not procrastinating. Just...looking." Sinbad shakes his hair back, an old ingrained habit by now, and tries to think the whole elevator ride up to the roof. At least it's light late at night now, or maybe the sky over such a polluted city always glows orange. He's never really noticed the difference. He lights up a cigarette, letting it dangle from his fingers, and takes a long drag. It's probably the last one he'll get, he knows.
"The separation from work and pleasure never has occurred to you, has it?" Ja'far reaches out, swiftly plucking the lit cigarette from Sinbad's hold. "Let it go, Sin. The longer you stare at him, the longer that kid is never going to drop the idea of you."
"I want him. I know, I know, I've heard he's hell on studios, but you can't deny he has draw. Hell, you know how easy it is for me to forget a new face," he admits without a shred of shame. "But I can't get him out of my head. Have you heard back from Kouen about whether he'll agree to an exemption?"
"I don't watch his videos, I wouldn't know," is Ja'far's dry retort. "All I know is that he's a pain to keep, and far more interested in having sex with you than actually doing it on camera for you. Do you really want to deal with that? No, of course you do, don't answer that." He takes a long, shaky drag from the cigarette before exhaling slowly. "And no, Kouen ignores every e-mail, every call."
"I'll never understand," Sinbad mutters, snatching the cigarette back for a long drag, "how you can work in this industry for the better part of a decade and still not have the slightest bit of curiosity about it. If I didn't know better, I'd think you still didn't have any idea what sex was all about."
Ja'far offers him a bland stare. "Sex doesn't interest me. That should be a good thing, considering it allows me to have a clear mind while dealing with all of your ridiculous bookkeeping."
"I don't see what makes it any more ridiculous than the bookkeeping in any other line of work. Besides," he adds, "one of these days I'll figure out when you have time for a personal life. You have to get out some time."
"No. I don't. Now give that back," Ja'far orders. "Or at least light me a new one."
Sinbad flicks the butt off the roof, pulling out a new cigarette and lighting it. "You smoke too fast," he says around the filter, then plucks it from his mouth and holds it against Ja'far's lips. "You've got to slow down, learn to enjoy things more."
"I'm not doing this for my health," is the low, annoyed mutter to follow, Ja'far's lips closing around the cigarette to inhale slowly as he lifts his hand to pluck it from Sinbad's grasp entirely. "I enjoy having things done on time, unlike you."
"Don't think of your health, think how much cigarettes cost," Sinbad mutters. His hand closes around Ja'far's, thumb stroking slowly over the back of his hand. "You know being elusive only makes me want you more."
"I never buy them," Ja'far rather smugly points out, and he bats Sinbad's hand away without another thought. "Why that's the case, I will ever understand. I blend in with your furniture, go enjoy yourself with any number of blonde supermodels that like stroking your muscles in public."
"I do. What I don't understand is why you seem to think that sating my urges for blonde supermodels is going to sate my lust for you." Sinbad snatches the cigarette back for a drag, then hands it back. "Like trying to appease a sweet tooth with pizza."
Ja'far rolls his eyes skyward, and promptly exhales smoke into Sinbad's face. "Appease your sweet tooth with someone else. What is with you and wanting things that you cannot have?"
Sinbad smiles through the smoke. "I'm accustomed to getting the things I cannot have," he says simply. "It's something of a talent I've always had. A studio of my own, for example-or you to work for me."
"But not Kouen's new favorite star."
Now the smile turns to a scowl, and Sinbad grunts out, "So far. You should know me better than to think I've given up. Besides," he adds, giving up and lighting himself a cigarette, despairing of ever getting the other one out of Ja'far's nimble hands, "he'll come around. Unless he's stupid, anyone can see working for me is better than working for him."
Ja'far shrugs, flicking away ash with a twitch of his fingers. "Just as long as your attention isn't wholly focused on him. All you've been doing lately is watching his videos over and over. If I didn't know you any better, I'd say you had a crush on him."
"He would be an asset," Sinbad says slowly, and wonders why he's even bothering to deny it. Because it isn't a crush, maybe. Or at least, it isn't just that. "Doesn't he look...lonely to you? More than usual in this business, I mean. Never mind, you're just going to say it's all an act."
"You just like anything young that looks like you can take it home and put it in your pocket."
"Yes," Sinbad admits without hesitation. "But….oh, forget it." He stabs out the butt of his cigarette, flicking it off the roof, and turns. "Let's go take care of the rest of that paperwork to get my mind off things I can't have."
"… If you want him that badly, why not try to get ahold of him directly again?" Ja'far exasperatedly replies, flicking away his own cigarette butt with a shake of his head. "I know how you are, you'll never concentrate until you get this out of your mind."
"His contract prohibits him from going out of studio, and Kouen won't make an exception. And if I know Kouen, he'll have put lots of stuff in that contract to keep him away from me-you know what I mean, people like me, poachers." His mouth twists for a moment, then he says, "I'm half-tempted to put you on the case and ask you to find a loophole there to get him out. I'm sure I could convince him if you did."
"It doesn't say anything about you calling him up and asking him out on a date-you know, outside of studio work." Ja'far shrugs lightly. "Not that I've already looked or anything on the possibility I'll have to have a suggestion to keep you from going insane."
Sinbad grabs at his pocket. "Where the hell is my cell phone?"
"Left front of your jacket," Ja'far mildly points out. "Give me another cigarette for my trouble."
Sinbad closes his fingers around his phone in relief, then lights another cigarette, plucking it from his lips and handing it over. "That should last you another ten seconds. Wish I could get you to smoke on camera, you look damn sexy when you do."
"You need glasses," Ja'far sighs at him, taking the cigarette gratefully nonetheless. "Do you have his number still? You call him while I go and get back to work, I want no part in this."
Already dialing. Sinbad nods his head. "Yeah, go on. I'll come down to sexually harass you later." He dials, and holds the phone to his ear, leaning over the edge of the roof.
The look Ja'far offers him is decidedly put out, though he doesn't comment save for a shake of his head as he walks away.
It takes but a ring for the other end of the line to pick up. "Sinbad? Is that you?" And the voice is very, very excited about it. "Hey, you reeeeally shouldn't have your secretary-thing call anymore, they said they're gonna set a new voicemail message and start being dicks to you guys if he does."
Sinbad sighs, but even that much of Judal's voice is enough to put him in a better mood. "Hey, kid. Forget about my secretary calling you guys, I'll call him off. Say, you want to have dinner with me tonight?"
There's a pause on the other end of the line. "If this is about doing a video for you," is Judal's unhappily slow response, "you know I can't. Kouen pointed out like, fifteen different points in the contract today where it says I can't, so…"
"Yeah, I've heard. Damn shame, you'd be my star in a heartbeat, it would humiliate the boys I've got now." Sorry, boys. "But this is just about dinner. You, me, a restaurant? Or here, we can picnic or something. Does Kouen let you eat?"
"He lets me eat! I'll go anywhere you want!" It's nearly audible how he all but bounces. "Though-um, can you pick me up? It'd be a little too obvious what I was doing, if I waited for a cab all this time or something-"
Sinbad can't help the smile curling his lips. Goddamn, but Judal is cute. Not his usual type, not at all, but there's something magnetic about the boy. "I'll pick you up," he promises, starting down the stairs. "Be outside the back door, I'll come for you in fifteen."
"Okay!"
There's no stopping him from feeling giddy. Never mind that he's barely been able to spend any time with the man, there's something about Sinbad that makes Judal want. It takes a few minutes to grab his coat and sneak out, avoiding the vast majority of the staff in the process, and he slips out the back door, sighing as he tries to fix his hair and thumb away a bit of smudged eyeliner while he waits.
If Sinbad had called any other time, maybe he could have gotten dressed up and maybe they could go somewhere nice. But not too nice, nothing like the stuffy places Kouen tries to drag him from time to time. Nice like somewhere fun. That's probably what it is, Judal decides. Sinbad actually seems like he'd be fun. Minus the bitchy secretary, at any rate.
Sinbad narrowly dodges a couple pressing matters on the way out-leave Ja'far to point out the obvious errors in the Saluja kid's fake ID, that's not something he wants to personally deal with-and ten minutes later, a sleek black car pulls up behind the Kou Studios lot. Damn, Judal is so cute, all bundled up against the cold like an overstuffed marshmallow.
Even if he wants to get out and open up the door for Judal, he wouldn't put it past Kouen to have cameras back here, and it's safer behind the tinted glass. He waves at Judal, clicking the door unlocked.
Immediately, Judal leaps forward, sparing a last, wary glance back to make sure no one is following before he jumps into the car, settling down into the leather seat with a pointed little shiver. "It's cold and that was definitely longer than fifteen!" he whines, pouting over at Sinbad from over his tightly wound scarf.
"It was barely twelve." Sinbad can't resist the urge to reach out, ruffling a hand through the short, flyaway strands at the top of Judal's head. "Do you always look this cute, or just when you know I'm coming to see you?" He pulls smoothly into traffic, barely resisting the urge to reach over and put an arm around Judal.
Judal beams. "You think I'm cute? Kouen says I look like I'm 10 when I'm dressed like this, not sexy." It's really, really hard not to lean over and nuzzle his face into Sinbad's shoulder, especially when he can tell the man smells really nice and maybe a little smoky from cigarettes. "Hey, I bet you've got a nice place. We could go there, you don't have to take me out anywhere." Probably better if you don't, they'll find out a lot easier.
"You don't look ten. I've seen too many of your videos to think you're ten." Sinbad starts to drive downtown, and swerves before the turn, heading uptown instead. "Yeah, okay, I'll take you to my place. I can actually cook, believe it or not. Sort of."
"You actually watched a lot of them?" Now he really can't help but beam, leaning over closer. "What'd you think? Good, huh? Kouen says I'm the best he's had in awhile, I'm gonna make his studio reeeaally popular."
"A while?" Sinbad snorts. "You're the best he's ever had. You're the best that whole studio's ever had, come to think of it. I've read your contract, he's not paying you half of what you're worth. You're making what stars made ten years ago."
Judal's face falls at that, and he sits back with a huff. "I'm still making good money," he insists, loosening his scarf as he starts to unthaw. "Kouen treats me well, he always has shoots for me, it's good."
"Of course he treats you well, you're the best star he's ever had." Sinbad grins, reaching over to tug on the end of Judal's scarf. "Don't mind me, I'm just jealous he found you first."
"You make him really mad," Judal admits, unable to stop a grin of his own from creeping back. "Especially because you keep asking about me."
"I can't stop watching your videos." Sinbad turns off the highway, pulling into his parking space. "You've got that extra...something. I can't look away when you're performing, and it's been a long time since I've felt that about someone."
That's an invitation if Judal's ever heard one. The second the car turns off, he crawls his way over, slinging a leg over Sinbad's lap to straddle him, sitting back on his thighs. A bit of a tight fit, considering the car, but that makes it sort of better as he wriggles. "Can't stop watching, huh? I told you, you know, that I couldn't make anything official with you," he says, plucking a little at the front of Sinbad's coat. "But maybe a little private show…"
"You're impatient. I like that." Sinbad's mind tracks immediately to how easy it would be to work with this kid, how famous he could make him, how many videos he could sell and what nice costars he could get, but tries hard to let that go. It's easy to focus instead on sliding his hands to Judal's waist, wriggling them up inside his coat. "You sure you wouldn't rather do this on my bed? I've got a big one."
"Who says we have to do it just once?" Judal breathes, eagerly reaching up to loosen the fastenings of his own coat, shrugging it off in short order and wriggling deeper into Sinbad's lap with a happy little sound. "Your hands are so big."
Sinbad's hands close over Judal's ass, squeezing and kneading as he leans up to barely, softly brush his lips against Judal's. "I've been imagining what this ass would feel like in them for a while," he murmurs. "My imagination didn't do it justice."
Another breathy, eager sound pulls from Judal's lips, and he arches his back, eyes fluttering at the press of Sinbad's fingers. "You can grab it all you want," he all but croons, whining low in his throat as his hips jut forward, his cock so hard already that it hurts rubbing against the front of his jeans. "God, you're so hot. Why did you ever retire, you'd make so much money-"
Sinbad nips slightly at Judal's bottom lip, squeezing harder and yanking Judal towards him, letting him feel the press of his hard cock through the front of his pants. "Mmm, you make me want to come out of retirement. I'd do one last shoot with you, that's for sure. Would you like that?"
A quick nod follows, and Judal's lips part, a ragged pant escaping as he sucks Sinbad's lower lip into his mouth. "Yeah, really want that." His fingers shake as he paws at the front of Sinbad's pants, thumb popping open the button. "You can fuck me any way you want. Fuck," he adds on a whisper, mouth dry as his hand wriggles inside to palm over Sinbad's cock. "You really are big."
Sinbad can't help but chuckle at that, hips twitching up against Judal's palm. "Did you think it was all camera tricks or something? I know you don't use them, I've seen your old web videos."
He leans down, dragging his teeth over Judal's earlobe, whispering in a husk of a voice, "You look way too young now to be the age Kouen says you are."
Judal probably shouldn't be shuddering when there's a chance he could get in really, really big trouble. "I… w-what age does he even say I am, I don't remember," he laughs, ignorance a far better thing to feign when Sinbad's so hot and hard against his hand, and his fingers are so eager to curl around him and stroke. Jesus. He's so thick, it's enough to make him squirm with the idea of that cock going inside of him.
I knew it. Kouen, you lying bastard.
"That doesn't matter right now," he assures Judal, and palms the kid through his jeans before pulling them down, freeing his cock to better stroke and slide down the length of it. Skilled fingers bring them closer together, one big hand closing over Judal's, closing it over both shafts rubbing sticky and slippery against each other. Even now, the old words want to spill from his lips, and he fastens his mouth to Judal's neck instead, trying, trying to be careful. "God, it's not easy not to bite and suck on you."
A hard shudder rakes down his spine, and Judal's hips jerk forward, grinding desperately into the warm, calloused slide of Sinbad's palm, against that big, hard cock. "Do it anyway," he begs, burying his own face into the side of Sinbad's neck, breath escaping raggedly as his hands scrabble up to grab for Sinbad's hair. "W-want you to bite, mark me up, wanna feel like I'm yours-"
Sinbad's hand closes over both of them in a slow squeeze. "You're going to get me in trouble," he growls, but there's something enticing, alluring about the words. He gives in, nibbling sharp, tiny bites over Judal's neck, covering each one with his lips and licking, sucking on the skin until he raises harsh red marks. God, he's close, closer than he should be after just this, but he wants Judal so badly, has ever since he saw that first video-
"Come for me," he whispers in Judal's ear, sucking hard on the skin just under it. "Come all over me," he groans as his hips snap up into his grip, tightening as he spills hot and slick, covering their cocks and his hand and part of Judal's shirt.
A dozen little things want to escape from his lips-I'll blame it on someone else, you won't get in trouble, just bite bite bite-but it's not necessary because Sinbad does it anyway, leaves him gasping and shuddering with every suck and every nibble and god, that feels good-
He whimpers as he looks down, watching Sinbad spill, the sight making his cock throb even harder, and it's with a whiny, desperate little gasp that he jerks forward, coming hard, slick and messy between them, his nails digging into the back of Sinbad's neck as he clings.
Sinbad nuzzles forward, gathering Judal up into his arms-he's seen the videos, he knows how Judal goes all relaxed and dreamy after he comes, like an affectionate pet. He's wanted, wanted so badly to be the one to hold him up after that, and revels in the feeling now, even as he uses one hand to tuck them both into their pants. "Let me get you up to my bedroom," he murmurs, brushing his lips across one raised bite, "and really treat you right."
Judal manages a hazy little nod, all but purring as he wriggles his way against Sinbad's chest, sighing into his neck as he nibbles into the crook of his shoulder like an overstimulated cat. "You feel really good," he sighs out, eyes fluttering as he paws at Sinbad's hair. "So warm. Ahh, my legs feel all wiggly…"
"You're so fucking cute." Sinbad is careful as he opens the door, scooping Judal up easily in his arms as he carries the kid inside. "Maybe I should just feed you and let you sleep it off, you look like you don't get enough sleep."
"I get enough sleep," Judal mumbles, butting his head into Sinbad's shoulder. He lifts his eyes just long enough to look around the place-geez, this is a lot better than any complex he's ever seen-before burying his face back into Sinbad's neck. "Hungry, though. I like food. When I'm horny, I get really hungry, too."
"Oh, yeah? What do you like to eat?" He deposits Judal with a lingering kiss on one of his overstuffed armchairs, handing him a blanket to curl up with as he heads to the kitchen. "I've got some leftovers, a pizza, I could make spaghetti...I'd offer you wine or a beer, but I'm not sure you're old enough to drink."
"Pizza's good." Judal promptly wriggles his way down into the blanket, wrapping himself up in a rather convincing portrait of a burrito. "And I drink. Whatever you like best is good."
There's a long moment spent looking at the wine cabinet, thinking about dates and years and going with his favorite standby anyway, pouring a couple glasses with all the ease of a sommelier. "This goes well with Italian. Is there anything you don't eat? Meat, veggies-just don't tell me you don't eat carbs, I'm not making a pizza on lettuce."
Judal hisses rather like a cat at the mention of vegetables-and lettuce. "No veggies. Gross, don't want." He burrows himself further down into the blanket, peering up over the edge of it. "I eat lots of carbs, though, I like food a loot."
Sinbad has to laugh at that, pulling a pizza out of the freezer and setting the oven high. "I don't know where you put it all, there isn't an ounce of fat on you. Not that I'm complaining, I know how most of your audience likes skinny boys. You don't throw it up afterward, do you?" It's not exactly something he'd put past Kouen to make him do.
At that, Judal makes a face. "Why would I do that? I like food, want it to stay. I just work it off, sex burns a lot of calories anyway and I work out and stuff, too." He wriggles his way down into the chair, pouting a little. "Aren't you gonna come cuddle while it cooks?"
One flick of the oven timer and Sinbad leaves the kitchen, simply scooping Judal up into his arms before sitting down, arranging the boy on his lap. He hooks his chin over Judal's shoulder, nuzzling into the side of his neck. "I feel like we haven't had a proper conversation yet, just me pawing at you and trying to get you away from Kouen every chance I get."
"Mmn," Judal agrees, settling back with a content little sound, sagging back into the broad, sturdy warmth of Sinbad's chest with a sigh. "But I like it when you paw at me. Also, Kouen's not so bad. He's just really strict, makes lots of rules and stuff."
"Been wanting to paw at you since I saw that first video," Sinbad admits. "I haven't had a reaction like that to a model in years, you know. Hell, you make me want to perform again, and as my assistants keep reminding me, it's been quite a while."
"We could make a video." Judal squirms, twisting himself around to straddle Sinbad's lap with a grin, his arms draping over the back of the chair. "You know, just for fun. No one even has to know. Then you can watch it all the time," he breathes, and shivers as he leans in close, teething the curve of Sinbad's ear and pulling on an earring, "and I can think about how I had that big cock of yours inside of me."
The breath catches in Sinbad's chest, and he settles Judal on top of him, eyes dark with promise. "After we eat," he breathes, "I'll get everything set up, I still have enough stuff here to make it look good. You want to do it realtime?" God, he can't even remember the last time he'd had actual realtime sex on camera.
Judal groans, eyes fluttering as he squirms his way down into Sinbad's lap, the urge to bite at him again too strong to resist. "Yeah. Yeah, that'd be good," he murmurs, teeth scraping against the curve of his shoulder as he rocks himself forward, arching his back to slowly rub down. "Dunno if I can wait for you to film it, though."
"Later." Sinbad moves, getting both of them down onto the soft plush carpet, settling himself between Judal's legs as he nuzzles against his ear. "We can do it again later, when you're satisfied. I'll keep fucking you until you have to leave, okay?" If I even let you leave.
That's a promise that Judal likes, and he wriggles up with another moan, his arms immediately thrown around Sinbad's shoulders to yank him down closer. "Watched your videos, too," he admits, eyes dark as he bucks his hips up. "Just… you've got such a nice cock, I've thought about it a lot of times on my own. Does my stuff make you do that?" he breathlessly asks, splaying his legs wider. "Do you think about me when you jerk off?"
"Lots of times. Thought about how pretty you'd look sucking on it," Sinbad murmurs, pulling back just long enough to shuck his clothes, then forward again to cover Judal with his body. "Or if you'd whine when I shoved it into you."
Judal whines at that, his hands pawing their way down, eagerly grabbing for Sinbad's cock even as he tries to work open the fastenings of his own jeans. "You can fuck my mouth first, if you want." He tries not to sound too desperate for it, but it's hard when his own cock is throbbing at just the thought, no matter how soon he's come already. "Bet I can take all of you," he adds, swallowing hard at the thought of it. "Not many people could."
"You're right about that," Sinbad mutters. "At least, not many out of the business." He rests his hands on Judal's shoulders, pressing him down to the ground, leaning down to nip and bite at one of the same spots again, knowing full well how the bruises look layered and wanting to see it on Judal more than anyone. He grinds down, rubbing down hard against Judal's cock, grinning as he feels it as hard as his own. "And not many people can keep up with me like this, either. I have a feeling you're really something special."
The praise makes him shudder, no matter how he hears it a dozen different ways day in and day out. From Sinbad, it's different, and they aren't on a set besides. Judal groans and lurches up, splaying his legs wider as he arches his back, desperate to feel more of Sinbad's hard cock pressing against him. "Bite me harder," he pants out, letting his head loll back as he says it. "Wanna look like someone ate me alive."
Sinbad's voice is low, urgent as he murmurs, "You're playing a dangerous game, boy. Haven't you heard how dangerous I am?"
His hands are rough as he yanks Judal's pants off, tossing them carelessly to the side, running the palms up and down over the inside of Judal's thighs. "I know there are rumors," he rumbles, with another hard bite to one of Judal's shoulders.
Judal whines, low and needy, his thighs quivering underneath Sinbad's touch as his toes curl. "Y-yeah. Turns me on, makes me hotter," he breathlessly admits, his eyes falling half-shut. "I'm gonna get in so much trouble tomorrow anyway," he adds on a little, hitching laugh. "Might as well do it all the way."
God, and don't I just know this type. At least, Sinbad thinks he does. The funny thing about Judal is that no matter how well Sinbad thinks he's got the boy figured out, there's always something surprising about him nonetheless. Maybe that's what draws me to him so much. I hate being bored. He leans down, nipping and biting until he draws a pert nipple into his mouth, sucking and nibbling there too. "Surprised Kouen didn't make you pierce these. He seems like the type."
There's no helping that mindless lurch upward, groaning into the slick, wet heat of Sinbad's mouth. "T…too sensitive," Judal manages with a shudder, a hand clawing up through Sinbad's hair nonetheless to hold his mouth down as he squirms, his hard cock rutting up against Sinbad's hip. "If… if they were pierced… probably wouldn't be able to stop myself from coming too fast."
A slow grin spreads across Sinbad's face. "Is that so?" Later, he promises himself. There will be time later. He grabs Judal's legs, hoisting them up over his head. "Nice and flexible. Good, that's not just camera tricks." It's a second's work to grab a condom and lube off a table, nuzzling against the inside of one thigh as he puts the condom on, then slicks the outside even further. "You want me to take it slow, ease you into it?" he asks, knowing damn well what the answer will be, wanting to hear it anyway.
"No, god," is the whining little reply, Judal's throat bobbing in a hard swallow as he squirms, trying his best to wriggle down and press against Sinbad's cock no matter how he's bent and helpless. His body twitches at the very thought of Sinbad's cock inside of him, and he pants out a ragged breath, trying to reach a hand down to grab for him and guide him inside. "Please, please, put it in-"
Sinbad presses a long, hard kiss to Judal's mouth, sucking his bottom lip inside and tugging on it with his teeth as he slides slowly in, gasping as the head spreads Judal wide. Judal is never quite the same twice-he looks nothing now like he had any time Sinbad had ever seen him onscreen, face twisted in pleasure, body tense with the intrusion. The old words try to make an appearance again, and he swallows them down, biting Judal's neck again instead, marking up the other side so there will be no hiding.
"Fuck," is the gasping little exhale that Judal manages, his thighs trembling as they splay even wider in an attempt to make it easier. It doesn't work. Sinbad's thick, really long, too, and every inch that pushes inside of him makes his legs shake, makes his chest heave from the effort of taking him, and his mouth falls open as Sinbad presses so deep that he starts to ache places that he didn't know he could.
"T…that's… f-fuck, really good," he rasps out, eyes rolling back as he manages a tense little wriggle down, groaning at how his body reflexively squeezes tighter around Sinbad's cock. "Knew you'd fill me up just right-"
"Knew you'd take it so well," Sinbad groans, sliding in as deep as he can, hands coming under to lift Judal's hips up, pulling him close. He spares a little grin, breath coming short at the squeeze of the boy, and murmurs, "It's better this way, isn't it? Without having to wait to get another angle, or make sure everyone can see my cock going into you? Just you and me, kid." The last ends in a shudder, and Sinbad tangles a hand in Judal's hair, pulling tight as he rocks slowly down. "Just you and me."
God, that's not fair.
Judal mewls, knows he sounds like some base whore, maybe more like a cat in heat than anything, but all the better for it when Sinbad's cock feels so damned good stuffing him full. The pull on his hair goes straight to his cock, and he pants hard, rutting down against Sinbad, biting his lip at the slick, tense slide of it, the way even just a little wriggle makes him feel that much more over-full. "Really good," he mindlessly, weakly agrees, lips parting in a ragged, breathless sound. "Fuck me hard, I'll be a good boy for you, please-"
God, what is wrong with Kouen? Sinbad can see instantly that this boy doesn't get properly fucked nearly as often as he needs it, and damned if he's not going to remedy that now. "Want to keep you stuffed full," he grunts, hips slapping in hard, the hand in his hair yanking Judal's head back, exposing the pale column of his neck that Sinbad can't resist a single part of. "I can't see you without wanting to be in you, god, you're a good boy for me, aren't you?" He'd been wrong to avoid the old words. Somehow, even they have meaning again, go to his cock again, when he's with Judal. "Be a good boy and take all my cock, begging for more, huh?"
Judal yelps with the yank on his hair, humping down eager and hard against Sinbad's cock, his breath stolen in a desperate, hot rush as his own cock throbs. "Wanna be a good boy for you," he nearly sobs, eyes fluttering desperately as he squirms himself down, brow furrowing and his mouth falling open when Sinbad presses so deep that he forgets how to breathe. "P-please, don't stop, need you fucking me all the time, Daddy, your big cock feels so good-"
With anyone else, that would turn him off, being reminded of his age, and words that are so porny besides.
With Judal...damn, but it only makes him harder. He grips tight, rolling his hips up as he fists Judal's hair with one hand, curling the other around the boy's cock, rubbing his thumb over the tip and smearing the clear fluid. "Such a good boy," he breathes, pounding in hard, wanting Judal to feel every bit of him inside. "You want to come for Daddy, huh? Show me just what a good boy you are."
He aches. Sinbad's hand on him isn't fair, an added over-stimulation that makes breathy whines and whimpers fall from his lips as easily as breathing, and every thrust hurts now, goes straight to his cock and makes his eyes roll back with how hard he is. Tension makes him twitch, makes him quiver and squirm, the carpet giving his elbows a sharp, burning rub when he tries to lurch upward and wriggle for even more of that big, thick cock that fills him up so perfectly, but in the end, Judal just gives up with a sob, lying back and letting himself take it.
Judal spills with a breathy, desperate sound, struggling to keep his eyes open and look at the mess he makes over Sinbad's hand and his own stomach, slick and sticky.
That slick tightness is more than Sinbad can bear, and he allows himself the luxury of biting too hard, shoving Judal down into the rug as if he's nothing but a rag doll, taking him as hard and as swift as he wants, stomach dragging against Judal's softening cock, and it feels so damned good to feel Judal come around his cock. "There's a good boy," he groans, and with a last lurch forward he comes, hands digging into Judal's shoulders, snapping his hips up so hard he's sure it must hurt, unable to stop himself nonetheless-not that Judal's complaining.
He allows himself a few deep, shuddering breaths before pulling out, sliding off the condom and tossing it into the trash. "You," he breathes, flopping down onto his back on the floor, "are a thousand times better than I expected, and I expected you to be amazing."
Judal sags back with a long, weary huff. "Can you just fuck me all day?" he blearily asks, never mind that it's kind of hard to keep his eyes open and he's still shivering. "Oh. Hey, I think your oven's beeping at you."
Sinbad stumbles to his feet, grabbing the blanket from the chair and tossing it down at Judal on his way to the kitchen. "You just lay there and look cute, I'm going to feed you." If I can remember how to make my limbs work.
Burrito roll recommence, then. Judal does have the mind to lurch up and steal a tissue to wipe himself clean first, at least, before rolling himself back up into the blanket with a little sigh. A shaky hand reaches up to yank the tie out of his now thoroughly mussed hair, letting it spill loose and long everywhere. "I'm good at being cute. And I like food. And you," he adds more quietly, stuffing his face down into the blanket.
Sinbad spares a glance over his shoulder, and almost trips over nothing but his own feet. Judal isn't kidding when he says he's cute, the kind of cute that makes Sinbad's chest twist and his breath catch. Sinbad swallows hard, leaning down to pull the pizza out of the oven and slice it up. "You know," he says casually, rolling the slicer through and cutting geometrically, "if Kouen is ever a dick to you-or if you think you're not safe, or you're in trouble for any reason-come to me. No matter what it is, I'll take care of you."
Judal's mouth twists a little at that. Heard that before, is on the tip of his tongue, but he doesn't say it, not when it's really easy to believe someone like Sinbad. Then again, who is he kidding? He barely knows the guy-but ugh, he's a good fuck…
"Yeah. Thanks. I'm fine, though." A slow roll onto his stomach, and Judal finds where his jeans went off to, fishing for his cellphone in the pocket of them to make sure Kouen hasn't been blowing up his phone. Judal lifts his gaze, then, actually glancing around the apartment. "You've got a really nice place. Kinda expected you to have a girlfriend or something, though, this is a lot of space for one guy."
"Don't really want one." Sinbad shrugs. "I mean, I like girls well enough, and I've got a regular thing going with a few of them, but I'm not really boyfriend material. Besides, the job keeps me busy." He serves up a couple plates, balancing them on one arm, and lifts two glasses of wine in the other hand, bringing them all to camp out in a little picnic on the carpet. "I could make a salad to go-oh, never mind, you don't like vegetables, right?"
Judal's nose wrinkles at the mention of salad. "No, really gross." He blows a sweaty strand of hair out of his face, grabbing for his plate before Sinbad even sets it down. "No boyfriends either, then, huh." A bite out of his piping hot pizza, and he doesn't even look fazed as he wolfs it down. "Me either."
"None?" Sinbad raises his eyebrows. "Same as me? Or are you not supposed to date? I've heard things about those Kou Studios contracts." He blows on his own pizza, taking a bite before washing it down with a sip of wine. "Draconian."
"… Well," Judal amends after a short pause, "I sort of had a thing going with this one girl. But, uh. It was Kouen's sister. That… yeah, he didn't like that," he says with a snort, reaching for his own glass of wine. Ah. Lots stronger than what he's used to. He takes a bigger sip. "It was just a friends-with-benefits thing, anyway, but they're really rich and everything, you know? Picky about who she goes out with, whatever."
"Old money," Sinbad agrees with significantly more disgust. "Yeah, I know them from a long time ago." He takes a longer sip of wine, drowning the bitter taste the Rens always leave in his mouth. "So, why'd you go with Kou? Not to mix business with pleasure, but I thought I sent a pretty enticing offer, and I know it's better than what Kouen's paying you."
Judal blinks up at him, his brow furrowing. "I never got anything official from you-by the time I signed on with Kou, it was just calls and stuff and your secretary pissing Kouen off a lot." He grabs another slice of pizza. "Besides, I've known them for a long time, and they house me and take care of me and everything, so the money's kinda secondary at this point."
Damn you, Kouen. What did you do with the contracts I sent him? Burned them? Not before laughing with your repulsive little family, I'll bet. Outwardly, he just shrugs. "They must have gotten lost on the way. No pressure, I just wanted to offer again. If you're happy with Kou, then it's none of my business." He lifts a glass, holding it up to Judal. "To a night of being ourselves."
"… I probably would've picked you."
His glass clinks against Sinbad's a little tiredly. "I can't exactly leave, you know. Not just-out of the blue like that. I mean, not that I'm not happy," Judal is quick to amend. "Just-you seem a lot more fun. You guys should do a joint thing or something, then I can work with you."
"I've offered." Sinbad shrugs, taking a long drink, trying not to imagine too hard how nice it would have been to have Judal on his team. "I try to keep my performers happy, when I can. It goes beyond the contract, you know? It's not all pay and benefits, some of it's just...making sure they have fun, letting them mostly choose their own projects, making sure they know they can talk to me if they're upset about something...there's more to being the head of a studio than having an eye for talent. At least, there should be."
"I have fun." He probably says it too fast, and Judal tries to remedy that by biting into his pizza again with a scowl. "I just-ugh, whatever. It's not like I'd be fucking you on camera if I signed on, anyway, so it doesn't matter. Kouen picks the stuff that sells the best, so that's fine."
Sinbad laughs. "I'd definitely come out of retirement if you were part of the picture," he remarks with a grin. "Though I think my old clientele would be rather...confused at the sudden change in venue."
"I can top," is Judal's immediate insistence, obviously knowing exactly what Sinbad refers to. "Kouen just-well, he says with the way I look, it wouldn't sell. He's probably right," he grumbles, downing back another gulp of wine. "And anyway, I like your cock a lot, so you can just keep putting it in me, people could get over it."
"To tell you the truth, I've always preferred topping," Sinbad says with a shrug. "When I was starting out, the money wasn't right. It's always easier to start out bottoming, then you can work with bigger stars without ego getting in the way. Which is your favorite, when it comes down to it?"
"Oh, I definitely like bottoming the most, so I guess that works out, huh?" Judal sets his now empty wine glass down, laying his head down onto his arms. "You have such a nice cock," he laments. "It's gonna be so boring going back to work."
Sinbad snorts. "You and me both." He drains his glass, then stretches out next to Judal, throwing an arm over his waist. "You're adorable. You sure I can't keep you? No one takes my cock like you."
Judal purrs at that, rolling himself out of the blanket to wriggle closer. "I want you to keep me. Kouen's already gonna be mad, though," he sighs, lifting a hand to trail his fingers over his neck, knowing without looking that it's mottled with bites. "And… actually," he admits with a grimace, "I'm not really supposed to be having sex before a shoot. But… oh well."
Sinbad rolls his eyes. "That's just another way for him to keep his performers in line. If he doesn't have makeup people that can hide all of that, he should fire them. As for the rest…" He shrugs. "I could check for you. Want to show me the damage?"
"No damage, I'm not gonna break just from one fuck-even if you are really big." Judal shimmies his way closer nonetheless, setting his teeth to Sinbad's shoulder for a light nibble. "Maybe if you fucked me again or something…"
Sinbad's laugh is a low, rich thing as he rolls them slowly, settling on his back with Judal's comforting warm weight on top of him. "Why, do you want me to break you or something?"
"Maaaybe. Then I can call in sick or something." Judal wriggles down against him, sighing as he stretches, dragging his fingers down Sinbad's chest slowly. "Hey, I'm clean, you know. We can do it without a condom, when's the last time you got to fill someone up right, hmm?"
The idea is so sudden, so tempting, that Sinbad's hips twitch up, breath hitching in his chest. Then he sighs, hands sliding down Judal's sides to rest on his hips. "How do you know I'm clean? You shouldn't go around offering that, you know. You'll get hurt, and that's the last thing I want."
Judal's eyes roll as he huffs. "Please, like you're not. I don't offer that to just anyone, I'm not that dumb." He frowns, sitting back a bit. "Unless you don't want to."
Sinbad looks up at him through lidded eyes, closing a hand over Judal's and dragging it down his own chest, to where his cock is hardening between his legs. "Does that feel like I don't want to?"
A shiver rakes down Judal's spine, his fingers immediately curling around to squeeze. "No," he breathlessly replies. "But-should let me suck you first, at least for a bit, you can have my mouth however you want it-then you can fuck me again. Just… just make me into your pet, I'll be good."
"You drive a hard bargain," Sinbad says with a laugh, folding his hands behind his head as he lays back. "Show me what you like to do with a man's cock, given the opportunity. If I want something different, believe me, I'll let you know. Don't show off, just have fun."
What's the difference Judal almost asks, though bites his tongue in favor of wriggling his way down, too excited about the idea of it to bother with words. He nuzzles his way up Sinbad's thighs, then against his hardening cock, mouthing along the side of it with a hot, shuddering huff of breath before his tongue flicks out to taste, swiping long and slick over the tip of him.
Sinbad's eyes close, then open again almost immediately, unable to look away from the alluring sight. Judal's sucking on him like he loves it, and Sinbad usually prides himself on being able to tell performance from reality. With Judal, maybe nothing is certain, nothing except the sinful wet warmth sliding over him, and Sinbad lets his thighs spread to give Judal more room to work. "I have a feeling," he breathes, "that telling you not to perform is like telling rain not to be wet. You can't help it, can you? You always look good. God, look how hard you've got me."
Judal's eyes flutter, the praise enough to go straight to his own cock, and he eagerly parts his lips, breath escaping fast and ragged through his nose as he sucks the head of Sinbad's cock into his mouth, his tongue an insistent wriggle against him. He lifts a hand to shove his hair back and out of the way as he bobs his head, groaning in the back of his throat as Sinbad slides hot and thick and heavy over his tongue, thick enough to make his jaw already ache as he works to swallow him down.
A low, whimpering sound muffles in Judal's throat as he soon finds his nose nuzzling into the short, dark hairs at the base of Sinbad's cock, and he pulls back just enough to look up through his lashes, eyes wet as he mindlessly grabs for one of those big, strong hands, urging it to grab at his hair. Use me, fuck me.
Sinbad lets out a groan as his hand fists in Judal's hair, shoving him further down, eyes alight at the sight. "Just like that," he murmurs, blunt nails scratching gently against Judal's scalp. "Your mouth is so perfect. Go on, further, you want to be really full, don't you?" He's close already, and even realizing how close he is makes him harder, throbbing against Judal's tongue. He bucks up, forcing Judal's head down farther, until he feels Judal's nose against his belly. "There's a good boy, taking all of me. You like sucking my cock?"
Judal nods, or tries to-easier said than done, when his mouth is so full of cock and he can barely breathe. His eyes lid, glazed and dark as he moans around Sinbad's cock, gagging when he's shoved down harder and Sinbad's cock sides even deeper down his throat, and he swallows hard, breath escaping frantic, desperate from his nose as his eyes tear up further. Yes yes yes, I love it, fuck my mouth, just use me like a hole-
With a growl of satisfaction so intense it's almost frustration, Sinbad wrenches Judal off of him, chest heaving as he pants. The noises, the sight, the feeling of Judal's mouth are too much, and he beckons urgently, using that lovely hair as a handle to yank Judal up. "You sure you want me raw? I need to be in you or I'm going to come too soon."
A too-fast nod follows, one shaky hand lifting to wipe his mouth as he pants hard for a full breath. "Need it," Judal groans, wriggling his way up and nearly sobbing as he slides back to let Sinbad's cock just slide up the cleft of his ass. "G-god… where's the lube, need you in me so bad-"
Sinbad fumbles with the pump, grabbing Judal's hand and giving him a generous dollop. "Use a lot, or you'll tear," he warns. God, it's hard to sound anything but eager when it's been so long since he's gone bareback, especially just for the fun of it and not for extra pay. "And go slow, I don't want to hurt you, I just want it to feel really good for both of us."
"I know how to do it, shut up," is the breathy mumble to follow as Judal's hand slides back to grab Sinbad's cock, biting his lip just at the feel of him in his hand again, hard and so slick. His fingers squeeze, and Judal sucks in a steadying breath, whimpering at just the press of the head of Sinbad's cock against his hole, still sore from earlier, but god, that makes it even better with that initial stretch, thighs tense and body trembling as he sinks down. His hands curl their way against Sinbad's chest, head bowed as he wriggles his way down, whining at the sensation of that thick cock stuffing him so full, pressing so deep at this angle that it's hard to do anything but writhe.
God, it's been so long for Sinbad that he fists his hands in the blanket, unable to do anything but groan at the first tense, slick slide in, biting his own lip when it's just too much, when Judal is so tight and perfect around him that it doesn't matter he's had Judal twice today already, he could still explode at any moment. Everything is sharper, the tiniest bit grittier, more real this way, and when he sees how Judal is close to collapsing on top of him, he reaches his hands up, unable to stop himself from squeezing too tight, knowing there will be bruises on Judal's waist tomorrow and, god help him, liking it. "That feel good inside you, baby? Is that where you like my cock?"
Judal sobs as he nods, chest heaving with each hiccuping breath. The squeeze of Sinbad's hands makes it feel that much tighter, and god help him, he can't help but squirm his way down harder onto Sinbad's cock, no matter how it's far, far too much, and every slick, aching rock of his hips makes him whine and twist and want to fuck himself on it even harder. "Love it," he gasps out, arms trembling in their attempt to keep himself upright as he digs his knees in, thighs quivering from the effort it takes to push himself. He rocks up far enough that Sinbad slides out, all for the chance to reach back, to rub that thick, dripping head over his twitching hole again before he sinks back down with a deep, grateful moan as his body stretches wide around him once more. "You feel so good, Daddy, fuck me hard-"
"Daddy's gonna fuck you hard, baby," Sinbad promises, and his cock twitches, throbs inside Judal. He runs his hands up that sculpted abdomen, fingers dragging over the soft skin, and pinches Judal's nipples, tugging on them with his fingers, hard enough to make Judal bend forward over him. "You like it when your Daddy plays with you, don't you, baby? You like making me happy, riding my cock like that? What a good boy. Squeeze down tight for me."
He's going to pass out from how hard his own cock is, the rush of blood leaving his chest heaving as he bends into Sinbad's hands, muscles drawing tight and tense and shivery all on their own accord as he shoves himself down, head rolling forward with another, shuddering groan. "Love it, love it so much-god, your cock feels so good in me like this-" Judal's breath catches and he whines, face flushing a dark red. "Tell me… t-tell me I'm being a good girl, Daddy, wanna feel you come inside me so bad-"
Sinbad's brain shorts out.
Everything is reduced to hot sweet slick young tight hot yes, fingers digging in too hard, and with the breadth of his hands Sinbad swears he can feel his cock inside Judal, thick and aching and so, so ready. "You want me to fill you up, baby?" he asks, eyes alight and voice a catching, breathy husk. "What a good girl you are, riding your Daddy's cock."
He fists a hand in Judal's hair again, dragging him down. "Here it comes, baby. Good girls-ah-get what they-deserve-" he grunts, and then everything goes white, far more intense than the last time, shaking him to his core as he yanks Judal down brutally hard, coming slick and hot inside him.
Judal thinks he manages a breathy, mindless little squeak, his voice caught in his throat when Sinbad spills inside of him, slick and hot and god, that's just obscene, enough to make him moan and wriggle down harder, no matter how he shakes and shivers and hurts. That's all it takes for his own control to snap, chest heaving in a ragged sob as he spills, everything aching from how spent he is, how overstimulated and fucked and ah, god, he can't breathe from how hard he pants. He mewls as he flops down, face burying into the side of Sinbad's neck, biting his lip at the sensation of being so full that he's dripping.
Sinbad lets one arm curl around Judal's back, eyes sliding shut as he strokes mindlessly up and down his spine. He thinks he murmurs something soothing, but most of his energy and effort are put into making sure he doesn't just fall asleep on the middle of his living room floor. "You," he starts, and has to stop and breathe before he starts again. "You want to move to the bedroom? Comfy bed."
"Want." Judal butts his head into Sinbad's shoulder. "Can't move though. All wobbly. Legs feel like squiggles."
Sinbad groans-why does he always have to be the strong one? He likes being floppy-and struggles manfully upright, lifting Judal in his arms with a last gasp of strength. "You'd better not snore," he murmurs, somehow getting them into his bedroom, curling up in his bed. "Not when I went through all that trouble."
"If I do," Judal mumbles, burying himself against Sinbad's side, "wake me up and shove my face on your cock or something, I don't care."
"That sounds like a fair trade," Sinbad agrees, and promptly pulls the blanket over both of them, snuggling down against the warm nice-smelling bundle in his arm and going to sleep.