The soon-to-be-twenty had always assumed it would only take one to love the conception of a job, to actually love the job. And boy how wrong he was. His grandmother's wise words were "Fun is fun until overdone" and Haruka's recurring lower back pain and sore throat could only be an indicator of overdoing himself. He did not imagine his life to turn into a series of redundant patterns of aftermaths and post preparations sprinkled throughout his busy schedule. Chalked up on laziness, the young adult skipped the whole job-hunting. He had accepted the idea that life couldn't give him good looks and brain at once, and he assumed he only needed to look good in order to survive this fucked-up world where doctors and engineers were paid so poorly.
He really tried to find a job that is, let's say, looked upon as decent and respectable. But why work hard at shitty minimum wage job and bring home 300 yen when he could simply strip to his birthday suit and blow his way to a 10 000 yen contract. He was never meant to serve people at McDonalds, he was told so, but rather serve himself as a sumptuous meal, ready to take, consume and eventually … defecate.
It's a meal after all.
Still life was hard. There is this assumption that when paid generously, it became so easy and natural to hand over your body to half-strangers without facing the sheer anxiety of not knowing whether you'll return in one piece or not. It's was never easy . But greed drives a wedge through one's common sense until it disintegrates and leaves you with one self-destructive motive that is doomed from the start. It makes you too bold for your own good, and you keep going forwards with cocky steps, ignoring the flashing signs. And suddenly, the forbidden becomes normality and everything you screamed "big no" at becomes commonplace.
Today was the day Haruka turned 20. Although he was heading into his twenties, his face screamed 17, one of the few good things he inherited from his mother.
Mother.
The mere thought of her caused his face to twist in utter disgust.
He splashed water across his face. God he looked worn out and glum. Birthday blues are real shit. Not even the 120-yen concealer could cover the dark circles that as though had permanently embedded themselves under his eyes.
Today could have been fun if he actually had someone with whom he could celebrate it.
Makoto had been very busy with his new job as a veterinary. His green-eyed childhood friend and roomie was a breathing and speaking teddybear. And because he was sweetness made flesh, he would surely bring him something cute as usual. But Haruka would rather be caught dead than ask him or anyone's company on his 20th birthday night. Primarily all about pride and ego. But also because he swore to himself that this birthday wouldn't be as gloomy as the previous ones. He had it all in a list; wear something sexy, go out, party and return home with good memories, so next year he wouldn't be sulking in his bathroom and mourning his fading youth like an old spinster hitting her 50's.
That's the mood.
He sauntered his way to the guest room, preparing to leave for the nearest cash machine. He needed money for tonight's adventure. He glanced over the vibrating cell phone sitting on the tatami. Haruka took a few steps forwards to check who was calling and he was already wearing the expression of a child who smelt his own fart.
Utterly grossed out.
He picked the phone, feigned a yawn as he said "Sorry. I didn't hear the phone ringing earlier …was sleeping"
"Alright lollipop. I need you to bring your perky peach to SINS building at midday sharp" putting emphasis on the last word in a commanding tone "The guy won't be available next Wednesday, and don't roll your pretty eyes at me"
"I didn't. It's my birthday for God's sake. You know that"
"Happy birthday lollipop. How old are you? Seven? Because that's exactly the age of someone who's ready to give up a blowjob worth 1000 yens to blow two rows of heart-shaped candles" the voice roared out, causing Haruka to hold the phone few inches away from his ear "He's 9 inches. It's gonna take a while to prep myself"
"I never knew you a whiner. You have two hours to get yourself ready" and the line was interrupted.
Fuck.
That was totally a turnout of events. He was not physically ready. He hadn't recovered yet from the rough treatment his hip joints had received from Asahi, the redhead beast who pounded into him in coboy position for 10 solid minutes. If it were not for his high natural mobility, he would have ended up with serious abductor injury. Besides, Makoto wouldn't be home before 7 p.m and there's no way he liked to meet the Tachibana's eyes after a long day of shooting, which were practically his most vulnerable moments. He would be able to see through him like the freaking psychic he was and Haruka would be brought to a loss of words as no liar was good enough to cover his deception under the scrutiny of Makoto's disarming gaze.
He must never know about SINS.
Nobody must know about his filthy career.
It usually is these situations that reminded him how lucky he was to have a person like Nagisa in his life. He found himself dialling his number immediately. The blonde photograph could do with a bit of company tonight.
Beep Beep Beep
"Hi "
"Hello ya! Ouch!" he could imagine the short frame of the speaker contorting his face in pain "Fucking doorhandle. Well .. I was about to call you. 9 inches had schedule conflicts in the last minute. How unprofessional of him. So we're preponing the shooting to today midday." Nagisa chanted out in his bubbly voice.
"I got the information a couple of minutes ago. Can I crash in tonight? Makoto is coming early and I don't wanna deal with his motherly interrogation" he barely finished the words when the other voice exploded in sudden blooms, damaging his eardrum beyond repair "Of course you can! You need to see the new TV set. It's GIGANTIC!"
"Okay see you later then" before he could press the hung up button, Nagisa chimed up "Wait ! Haru ! I need you to hear me out for a second!" the shift of tone earned Haru's undivided attention by the moment.
"What?"
"Okay. 9 inches. You heard the rumours about him right?" his voice dropped a few octaves lower than his usual candy-coated pitch. Haruka questioned "What rumours?"
He could hear the frustrated sigh on the other side. "There's this magical website with a colourful logo where you can type the name of a celebrity and ..What the fuck Haru ! Tell me you didn't even bother to google the dude?"
"Would you stop screaming, please? And yes I googled him of course. His name is Sousuke Yamazaki, 43 years old, power top, built up like some boxing champ, endowed with 9 inches as thick as a beer can and he did a couple of scenes with Takuma last months" the blue-eyed actor explained impassively as if reading a grocery list.
"Fantastic. You left out the part where his ex-boyfriend, who was his co-star, reported to Jezebels his inappropriate behaviour on set such as aggressiveness and abuse of power. So let it sink" the shared bit of information had Haru frown deeply. He dealt with crappy co-stars before and bratty starlets stomping on his pride. Working under stress was one of his virtues. This one should not be any different. After all, It was part of this job to tuck one's ego away and accept the real possibilities of a roman shower.
"They could all be rumours. SINS wouldn't put their reputation at stake by hiring a #metoo target"
"You never fail to show what a total newbie you are. You still didn't get what this industry stands for. It's not Hollywood where actors get cancelled for groping their co-star's handbag. This is porn industry where everyone is paid to do morally questionable acts on screen, you think they fucking care about a porn actor's complaint? "You asked for it and you deserve it". That's what hundreds of people wrote under his latest's victim tweet." As harsh as the words might sound, Nagisa was right. But still what was that supposed to mean?
"Do you want me to cancel everything or what? You know I might lose my job if I refuse collaboration with a top-notch star like Yamazaki"
"Of course not. Haru I know you are so chill and cool but if he ever provokes you, which is likely to happen, don't fall into the bait. Your career is about to bloom and it's gonna be thanks to that asshole whether you like or not, the guy gets paid six-fold your pay, don't let him ruin this chance"
Another sigh, then a silent moment passed before he added, "you got me?"
"Gotcha"
"Alright, you can relax and do your stretching routine or whatever."
Relax? yeah...
How am I supposed to relax after hearing this?
"See you later Nagi"
"See ya!"
Haruka threw his phone no sooner had the line ended and, with one hand, pressed his fingers against his nose bridge. He should have known it was horrible to spend the last night rewatching his favourite anime. Now he's dealing with the sleep deprivation that was threatening to crush his skull. He checked the clock. Already 10:25. God the things he would do to avoid going to the studio right now.
Slowly, he swaggered to his room, pulling the hidden buttplug and the lube bottle from the porcelain jar that was poised on the nightstand and settled himself on the bed. There he lied on his stomach after having coated the plug with the water-based lube and began to press it gently against his entrance at a very slow pace. With his free left hand, he held his phone up, typed Sousuke Yamazaki on google image. The said stud's smug face appeared on the screen. Well the guy had muscles. He scrolled down until he stopped at a pic where he showed off his 9 glorious inches.
Huge would be an understatement.
This is MONSTROUS.
Haruka swallowed as he imagined the kind of rectal athleticism his poor sphincter muscles were about to engage in with such monstrosity invading his ass. Guess It was never a good idea to drop "hardcore sex" off his no-list. But the audience wanted his likes to suffer to get off.
He went to Yamazaki's channel and read the title of some of his videos that all included words like "brutally" and "roughly". Impressive how his least viewed videos had over 2 million views. Haruka felt his hole pulsing around the butt plug that still lodged firmly in his arse. Four minutes of stretching and he felt more relaxed already, his breathing getting back to normal pace, until the doorbell rang.
"I'm not opening" he groaned inwardly.
With hindsight, he should have disabled the doorbell with all those door-to-door sellers pounding his door every day.
Haruka waited for the door to ring again and when it did not, he hoisted himself onto one elbow to open the drawer. It became a post-anal play habit for him to rinse his rectum, though he disliked the whole process of squirting water in. It's like bottoming, minus the flesh.
He grabbed the whisper bidet and lifted his arse up to start the tedious endeavour.
A few minutes later, the doorbell chimed again. His relentless visitor couldn't take a hint.
Haruka huffed and puffed before he removed the bidet. Hastily, he slipped into his jeans and threw on a plaid shirt. He stomped his way to the door, cursing under his breath, and with more force than necessary, he yanked it open.
"Yes"
The man before him stood tall, his hair a flamboyant red in contrast with his pale skin and Haruka didn't want to imagine what would French kissing be like with those sharp teeth.
"I'm sorry to bother but" the stranger pulled out a blue hoodie from his bag "this must be yours. It landed on my balcony" he finished with a polite smile.
Haruka's eyes fell on the folded piece of clothing, inked petals scattered on muscle forearm appeared in his line of vision. Lovely tattoo.
"Oh. That's Makoto's" he looked up to meet the redhead eyes, adding, "I'll give it to him when he returns. Thank you"
"I saw you wearing it though, I mean that's cute when two …well people exchange clothes" the corner of his lips switched into a lopsided smile, scarlet eyes glinting with apparent interest. Haruka's forehead creased at the implication of this observation.
"We're not together. He's my friend" he did not know what brought him to share such unsolicited bit of information "Thank you" Haruka extended his hand to take the hoodie, suddenly remembering he had other things to do.
"You're welcome. I .." the guy lingered for two heartbeats before asking "I don't know your name? I'm Rin Matsuoka"
For someone who kept studying his lips, the redhead sounded shy as he stammered over the words.
Haruka was used to have this effect on people. People flirting and courting.
Until they find out he fucks on screen.
"Haruka Nanase"
"Haruka" his brows drew together and Haru knew what the next line would be, some snarky comment about his name. "At least you won't bully me for having a girly name. Um. Well. Have a nice day Haruka"
They looked at each other as if neither knew what to say before Haruka replied, as he took the hoodie "You too"
He waited until Rin spun around to leave before he shut the door in some confusion, taking a mental note of how long the awkward eye lock lasted.
He never saw this neighbour in his one year here in this building. Could he be new? because one could never possibly overlook that patch of red hair; it would stand out even in the dark.
He checked the wall lock that pointed to 11 A.M. Haruka only had 15 minutes to change, pack his lunch, and be off to set before the traffic gets really bad. That's no way to start his day.
He strode to his room at a cartoonish pace to pick his phone, chestnut wig and cap, a disguising look he opted for every time he walked the few miles that separated the parking and the studio- Let's say a simple confidentiality measure to make sure that no one under the Sun could see him walking into the infamous building.
It was just a shooting day.
He got used to having those knots clenching his stomach
He got used to worrying that someone would follow him and find out about his dirty line of career.
He took a deep breath and glanced over Makoto's hoodie. Then he started talking to it "I'm so sorry"
*
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To be continued...
Stick and stones might break my bones
But comments and kudos do wonders to my hormones.