My name is Lulubell, and I am a documentary filmmaker. Some of my colleagues, and plenty of my critics, call me "eccentric", because I have the guts to film topics they consider too taboo- they don't want to risk the scornful public eye. Not me, I don't care. I never really have, not about opinions or sensibilities. I've documented war crimes, government crimes, hate crimes, drugs. So if they can't be bothered, that's alright. Less people to get in my way. My job is to inform.
Today I'm collecting an interview for a new project I'm working on. With gay porn stars.
I set my video recorder off to the side, on a table where it can catch the men sitting on the couch in front of me. "You're actors in adult videos," I say to start the interview off, and Tyki Mikk hums in agreement, shrugging. He looks a little awkward, but he'll warm up soon. Cross Marian is the one to answer. I can tell that his confidence could probably also be called arrogance. I approve.
"Yes. Isn't that exactly why you're filming us?" I grimace momentarily. Smartass.
"That's why, yes." I continue determinedly. "So. First off, how did you get into the profession?" Tyki gives a crooked little smile. He has bright gold eyes, I notice with fascination. Just like mine.
"I wanted another job for extra money," he says casually, and I'm not terribly surprised. I notice a slight accent, and I remember that he's originally from Portugal. Another foreigner, as the Americans like to call us. I'm glad I lost the hint of French in my voice a while ago. "Just like Marian," he continues. "I think you'll find that not many porn stars have really gotten their dream employment." Cross unfolds his arms to give Tyki a joking shove.
"I don't know," he says, half cynicism and half fun, "you are kind of a whore." The younger man twitches and reaches for a cigarette out of habit, digging out a lighter and lighting it thoughtlessly. I generally disapprove of smoking, but if people want to do it, that's their choice.
But still, Tyki reluctantly concedes the point. ". . . Sometimes." I conceal a tiny smile and go on to my next question.
"Are you judged by others for your choices?" The answer is obvious, but it's just good sense to get it down in video. Both of them blink; Tyki shrugs.
"Yes," he says patiently. "Lots of judging." He doesn't seem to mind it that much. I scribble a note down on my pad of paper. "It's part of why we use stage names instead of the names we were born with. You didn't think anyone would actually name their kid Tyki, did you?"
"The judgement must have been a difficult adjustment in the beginning," I say, prodding for clarification.
Tyki makes a so-so gesture. "The number of people I give a damn about goes up to roughly seventeen maximum," he says carelessly. "I'm really not crushed."
Cross, as his answer to the question, informs me, "I'm a mad scientist. This is almost more respectable." I barely, barely manage to keep my reaction down to staring and a slight frown. Already, I know that's probably not going in the documentary.
". . . A mad scientist." There's a flat question in there.
"Yes," he affirms smugly, obviously enjoying my consternation, and next to him Tyki shakes his head despairingly.
"Don't bother, I truly have no idea why he says that," he tells me.
I pause for a long minute and then nod, resolving to just leave that alone. It's probably not relevant. "Alright then," I continue gamely. "Next question. Do you enjoy the work?" Cross laughs.
I don't quite know how to take that. But Tyki actually replies, and he throws in another smile as well, though I'm not sure it's genuine. "As in, do I physically respond to getting fucked? Of course." I don't care about that flavorful addition to the conversation. "But," he adds matter-of-factly, "I like women better." The new info does surprise me, and my expression speaks for itself.
". . . Ah. I see. Then why not just do straight pornography instead?"
Tyki seems to be used to this inquiry. "This actually pays better. And in straight vanilla porn, they usually like the man on top, and-"
Cross cuts him off with a smirk. "Mikk hates being on top. He gets off on people controlling him. It's his little secret."
The other man stares at him for a second and then shakes his head. "Not how I would have put it, Marian. You can stop now." The last part is added in a sulky murmur. Cross tosses back his red hair haughtily.
"I live to make your existence miserable," he informs Tyki breezily.
I attempt to steer things back to my questions, although this dynamic of theirs is amusing. It's something I want to record more of later. "You two seem to know each other fairly well. Do you work together often?" But I know the answer to this question too. I have a lot of videos of them, recent ones that I bribed one of their directors for. I'll use them to get reactions later, but their view of the question is what matters right now. They both nod.
"We have chemistry," Tyki says in a bored, exaggerated tone, complete with contemptuous air quotes around the word. "So we sell alright." Cross opens his mouth to speak, but Tyki smacks him lightly on the head. "Oh no no, you're not allowed to talk any more. Not if this is another thing about the supposed secret life of yours truly."
Cross ignores this with dignity. "I was going to say that since we knew each other for a little bit before Mikk started up, it's easier." This is news to me.
"Were you friends? Enemies, casual acquaintances? Lovers?"
"I'm a part-time bartender. And he drinks far too much, so I saw him a lot," says Tyki, and that makes enough sense to me. Cross scowls.
"You drink plenty yourself."
Tyki covers for himself smoothly. "Which doesn't make a difference to the matter at hand," he dismisses.
I move on to my next inquiry. "Most, um, actors tend to perform with many different people, but I've noticed that you two seem to have an... exclusive series." I watch the two of them blink and shrug together. Cross decides to answer this time.
"Of course we work with plenty of others. The directors noticed that some viewers liked us enough to request more of us specifically, however."
I've finished up with the questions for now. Time for something else. I scratch out another few notes about them on my paper and take my laptop out from its case. "I'd like your opinion on this," I tell them sweetly, and power it up out of sleep mode. The video is already on the screen, waiting to be played.
They both lean in to take a look at the screen, and I watch their faces out of curiosity. Cross smirks when he realizes what it is, and Tyki raises an eyebrow. I haven't actually seen this particular video, and I'm interested as well. It's an unedited cut, complete with all of the stuff that usually gets taken out of the final project.
The video gets going. On the screen, there's nothing particularly explicit for now. Just Tyki and Cross on a bed, talking. They go through a few awkward, uninteresting lines of dialogue, basically throwaway lines. Then the real point of the video begins; Tyki leans in for a kiss. The kiss is chaste at first, but within a minute or so, Cross is starting to tug off their clothes. Their breathing already heavier, they pause to trail their fingers slowly over the tented fabric of each other's pants, and Cross grinds his palm into Tyki's cock through his jeans, eliciting a small whimper of arousal from him.
"Marian," Tyki grits out, the sound tinny through the laptop speakers. They finish ridding themselves of their clothes, kissing all the while, but I get the sense that this video isn't as fast-paced as some of the others. Cross runs a hand over Tyki's chest, pinching at a nipple, teasing him, while Tyki lets his head fall back, lips parted in a soft hiss of approval. I get the sense that at least some of it is exaggerated; after all, this is all about displaying themselves well. Cross laughs, sounding a little less in control than he usually does.
"You like that?" he asks, and Tyki gives him a hazy glare that I know isn't faked this time.
"Shut up and keep going," he murmurs, and then cuts off with a gasp when Cross obliges and wraps his hand around Tyki's length, stroking slowly up and down. He rubs a thumb over the head, swirling in in circles, and Tyki arches a little.
Suddenly, a different voice cuts in and breaks the immersion. "Keep doing that with your thumb for a while," it says. I recognize the voice as Winters Sokalo, the director for this video. I don't really like the man, but he is the one who got me the unedited version. Cross nods and kisses Tyki again, continuing to tease Tyki's cock with just his fingers, barely enough to satisfy him. A minute passes, then two, then five, with only that slightly contact, and then Tyki finally gives in, figuring that it's been long enough to please Sokalo. "
Faster," he moans. "A-ah, faster."
The redhead presses his thumb in more and then releases Tyki's cock altogether. "Now the blowjob," Sokalo says from off camera, and I find myself annoyed that it takes away from the believability of this. Naturally, that's why they take these parts out of the video when they release it. Cross reclines on the bed, and despite myself, I lean in to see the screen better. I know what's coming. Tyki moves too, positioned over Cross's length, and he slowly takes it into his mouth, gripping the lower part with one hand. I hear him moan again, and the vibrations from his voice make Cross hiss in pleasure.
Tyki barely bobs his head, pausing every so often to lift away and lap his tongue over the head, almost mimicking Cross's earlier teasing. Cross only allows this for a minute or so before tangling his fingers in Tyki's hair, using the leverage to force Tyki to take him in deeper. Tyki takes the hint, sucking faster and harder, golden eyes closed. His other hand lowers, and he touches himself, pumping at a lazy pace.
Sokalo speaks again, and I feel another twinge of annoyance. Despite my focus on being professional, watching this is affecting me, and the director's harsh voice grates on my nerves. "Mikk, enough. Cross, prepare him," he says. I watch Tyki pull away, and they change positions so that Cross is on top of the other, pinning him down at the hips. He inserts a few fingers into Tyki's mouth, and Tyki gets them wet, even though I bet he has a sore jaw now. Then, for the first time, I notice the small bottle of lube resting on the sheets next to them. Cross uncaps it, spreading some of the oil on his already slick fingers.
Tyki spreads his legs a little wider, licking his lips in a calculated gesture, and Cross takes the opportunity to insert one of those fingers into him. And then another, slowly, using his other hand to continue stroking Tyki's cock to get him to relax. Cross looks up momentarily, probably seeing a command gesture from offscreen. Quickly enough, he's positioning himself to enter Tyki fully. I'm not an expert in gay sex, but I wonder if there isn't supposed to be a little more preparation.
Tyki's eyes widen slightly as Cross sinks into him, rocking slightly, and I hear an involuntary whimper from him. Pain this time, not pleasure. One hand is pinned above his head, fingers entwined with Cross's, and I watch as Cross stops rocking and gives a comforting squeeze. stroking his hair. And then, to my surprise, I hear Sokalo yet again. "Don't stop now. He's plenty ready."
Cross flat-out glares, unexpectedly, and doesn't comply, giving Tyki more time and kissing him on the forehead. I get the feeling that this is in no way part of the script. Tyki laughs a little, the sound trailing off into a moan. "I... know how to take it," he reassures, and Cross nods, resuming his thrusting. They really do respond to each other, I can see. They look genuinely engaged, and by now the way Tyki arches and the little sounds he makes don't seem faked. Cross changes the angle, looking for something, and manages a lust-clouded grin when Tyki gives a choked cry of pleasure, fingernails digging into the other's back.
The camera zooms in, focusing on Cross's hand on Tyki's cock as he fucks him. He's spreading the precum around, working him fast and hard, and it's getting milkier as Tyki gets closer. Judging by the way Cross thrusts deeper, and the groans of approval he's making too now, he's close as well.
"Not yet." There's that goddamn voice again, and the two onscreen seem just as displeased as I am this time. They reduce the pace, and Cross pets Tyki's hair a little, whispering in his ear. It's out of character, and I'm sure it will be cut from the final product.
They continue more slowly, concentrating on kissing. Cross's hand is holding Tyki at the base of his cock now, squeezing, making sure he doesn't cum yet. "Fuck," Tyki whines, sounding a little petulant.
"Now those lines we talked about," Sokalo interrupts again. "And some more noise, Mikk."
Tyki complies, letting out a wanton moan and adding more of a gasping note to his breathing. As for the lines the director mentioned- "Please," he begs Cross. It's scripted, but I can tell he means it, at least a little. "Please, more."
It seems to take all of Cross's self control, but he pulls out. And then he grips both of their lengths together, rubbing them up and down, precum mixing. Tyki hisses out another "Please," as per directions, and he reaches out to try and make Cross go faster.
"No," Cross tells him, pushing his hand away and pumping slower. "Not until I say so." Even I'm frustrated now, just watching the video on the small screen. They rub against each other a while longer, both getting more desperate- although Tyki has obviously been told to play up the neediness a little.
Finally, they've got enough footage by now for the finishing scene. They take each other's cocks fully in hand and jerk as quick and rough as they can, not bothering to stifle any noises. "Go ahead," Cross grits out, voice rough with arousal, and tangles his fingers in dark curls again, pulling. Tyki cums first, crying out and losing it completely as the stimulation from the hand on his cock overwhelms him. He's thrusting into Cross's hand for just a little more as he reaches climax. Cross follows quickly, letting out a feral growl in response and pressing flush against Tyki's body, savoring the heat.
They keep rocking against each other, drawing it out, still moaning, hips moving together until the pleasure slowly fades. The two of them stay that way for a while, sticky with cum and out of breath, still holding each other's softening lengths. Cross swipes a thumb over the head of Tyki's cock again, a last touch before letting go, and it gains a tiny, overstimulated sound from him.
"Cut." The video ends abruptly, and all there is on the screen is the "replay" icon overlaying the frozen image of the two of them curled up together, stomachs spattered with white.
I finally remember the purpose of watching that whole thing, and I look back to the two real men sitting on the couch in front of me. Cross is grinning unashamedly, Tyki looks unbothered by the whole thing, and I realize with slight discomfort that I'm going to need a cold shower. That was a lot more... personal than most porn I've seen, somehow.
I clear my throat. "Thoughts?" I ask. This documentary is supposed to be edgy, I tell myself, but I know that at least part of this is just for my own curiosity and amusement.
"You're totally my bitch, Mikk," Cross states, enjoying himself.
"It's an act, you know," Tyki retorts. I notice that neither of them are trying to hide that fact that they're both half-aroused.
I remember the way Cross broke character to make sure Tyki wasn't in too much pain. "You care for each other," I state.
"Being careful is just common courtesy, miss Lulubell," Cross replies with slight annoyance.
I shake my head. "I think I have enough to work with for today," I say. I gather my laptop, recorder, and notepad and depart with a smirk, leaving them to stare awkwardly at each other.
Hah.