Judal isn't an early riser, but his phone sort of prompts him to be.

He winces at the name flashing on it-ah, yep, Kouen's going to kill him. He's late, extremely late, and biting his lip, he wonders if he even wants to show up at all.

Maybe he'll fire me. Maybe then Sinbad can pick me up and I can work for him instead.

A stupid idea, definitely, but one that sort of makes him sneak out of bed, tiptoe over to the sliding glass door of the balcony, and let his phone sit out there to ring indefinitely for a long, long time.

He makes himself at home, stealing one of Sinbad's button-downs to wrap around himself as he sneaks out to the kitchen. Slim pickings in the man's fridge, but whatever-a couple of peaches later and he feels less like he wants to die, though the urge to rummage is a little impossible, considering his appetite.

Sinbad doesn't get nearly enough sleep.

That's pretty much par for the course, though, and he doesn't usually have someone as enticing as Judal to wake up to like he does now. He stretches slowly, not bothering with clothing beyond a pair of boxers as he makes his way to the living room, following the noise coming from the kitchen.

He leans over the counter on his elbows, enjoying the hell out of the view of Judal's ass. "I can make you some eggs or pancakes if you'd prefer it to cold fruit," he offers mildly, with an appreciative grin.

Judal perks up immediately at that, swallowing a mouthful of a peach as he turns around and shuts the fridge. "Really? You'd cook for me again?"

Sinbad laughs, entering the kitchen to give Judal's hair an affectionate tug. "Last night was hardly cooking, just putting a frozen pizza in the oven. Take a seat, do you want eggs or bacon or pancakes or all three?"

Judal does a rather accurate imitation of a cat, minus the ears to flick and tail to slowly swish. "All three would be really good," he breathes, his cheek rubbing against Sinbad's shoulder as he briefly latches to his arm. "Do you have to go into work today?"

"I was supposed to be there already," Sinbad admits. He nuzzles a kiss into Judal's hair before turning to the pantry, pulling down his ingredients and getting a couple burners going. "They can handle things without me for one day. You?"

"Well, I haven't heard my phone ringing, so they must be okay without me…" Judal lies, prying himself away to let Sinbad cook and hefting himself up onto a barstool, half-draping himself over the counter. "Maybe I can just not go into work forever."

Sinbad laughs, dumping an eyeballed amount of pancake mix and egg and milk into a bowl-still not really cooking, but it'll do. "A boy after my own heart. How do you like your eggs?"

"Mnnn, scrambled, this morning." Judal flops forward a bit more. "You're spoiling me, Kouen always makes comments about how he's not running a BBW company when I wanna eat a lot of stuff like this. I don't get fat, I have a really fast metabolism!"

"You're an adult," Sinbad says simply. "If you want to eat a hundred eggs, you eat a hundred eggs. And if you always fuck like you did last night, I'm surprised you're not skin and bones." He beats a few eggs into a bowl, then leans over and confides, "Ja'far is the same way. He always tells me I'm getting wrinkles and gray hair."

"I don't always fuck like last night, but…" Judal trails off, nose scrunching up as he rolls his eyes. "You don't have wrinkles. And if you got grey hairs, you'd still look sexy."

Sinbad shudders at the thought. He combs his hair back into a ponytail, twisting it up to keep it out of his face as he gets the bacon going in a third pan, rendering out the fat. "Either way, you shouldn't feel guilty about doing something you love, eating or fucking or shooting videos. What made you get started, anyway?"

"Nothing better to do. Needed the money." He slowly drums his fingers against the countertop, looking down at his nails. "Easier money than anything else, and everyone told me I was pretty, so I figured it was a win-win situation."

Sinbad nods slowly. "That's probably the best case scenario, you know. Do you like it? Not sex, specifically, but performing. If you don't, you're very good at hiding it."

"Oh, yeah. I like it, though sometimes I get bored doing the same stuff over and over," Judal sighs, tilting his head to the side. "Whatever, I guess what sells is worth it. I just get sick of the same boring guys and being that typecast femmy slut all the time. Just because I like cock doesn't mean I'm not still a guy. I mean," he amends, thinking quickly to the night prior, "in certain situations it's really fun, but…"

"Preaching to the choir." Sinbad pours the first pancake into the pan, flipping the bacon. "I probably wouldn't have retired if there were more variety. That's why I started my own studio, you know? I know this business. I understand it. There's so much potential, and if you do it right it's a bulletproof industry. Bacon limp or crispy?"

"Limp-you were never that girly, though," Judal protests, his chin coming to rest in his hands. "It's different. Speaking of which, I was supposed to have a cross dressing shoot or something, uh-this afternoon." More like right now. "Kinda glad I'm gonna skip out on that today, not sure if I can rock the thigh highs and heels thing."

"Nah, they could tell trying to make me look feminine was sort of a lost cause," Sinbad agrees. "They tried to get me to do a crossdressing shoot a couple times, but we all decided it looked ridiculous." He pours himself a glass of orange juice, offering one to Judal as well. "You're lucky you're around now. Ten years ago, there wasn't any such thing as a switch in the industry."

"… It's your eyebrows," Judal says with a squint as he takes the glass, wrapping both hands around it. "You can't look like a girl with a really strong brow like that. That's a good thing, by the way. It's sexy. And Kouen doesn't wanna market me as a switch," he adds on a grumble. "So whatever."

Sinbad sighs. "What a waste. Ah, well, at least you're happy." He plops a few pancakes down onto a plate, then scowls at them. "That was stupid, I should have put in chocolate or bananas. Here, I'll take those, you can have the next batch. Which do you prefer?"

Does happy mean really, really bored and never gets to have any good sex like I did last night? "It's really fine as long as you've got syrup, but… chocolate's always good." Like hell he's gonna turn down anything really sweet first thing in the morning. "We forgot to film last night, you know," Judal suddenly says with a pout.

Several chocolate chips find their way into the next batch of pancake batter. "There's always today," Sinbad points out. "Unless you want to run off that soon. I've got a whole lighting kit and everything, it's easy to turn one of my guest rooms into a studio. Or my bedroom, I guess, but the lights don't fit as well in there." He dumps a pile of eggs onto Judal's plate, wordlessly passing over salt, pepper and paprika.

"So long as Kouen doesn't call, I don't have to go anywhere!" Yeah, that phone is staying outside for awhile. Immediately, Judal douses a generous amount of spice over his eggs before digging in like a man starved. "No one ever cooks for me, I'm keeping you."

"I find that hard to believe." Sinbad reaches over, brushing a thumb over Judal's cheek before serving himself, picking up several strips of bacon with the tongs and heaping them on Judal's plate. "Do they know how cute you are when you eat? I'd cook for you all day."

"Kouen just thinks it's annoying," Judal complains, snagging a piece of bacon before it barely even hits his plate. "Ugh. I probably make him sound like he's really awful, don't I? He's not, he's just…" he sighs, thoughtfully chewing for a moment. "He's just really straight. Like. Really boringly straight. About everything, not just sex. Everything always has to be done a certain way or at a certain time and it's not my fault that I get hungry at weird times."

"You do make me want to steal you away from him," Sinbad admits, "but I'm not sure that's a bad thing. Just...I'll try not to try too hard, but I really do think you'd like Sindria Studios more. We're a lot more flexible, and I listen to my performers' needs whenever I can. Kouen's never worked in front of the camera a day in his life," he adds, letting a little of that old enmity show through.

"Well, that's obvious," the younger man sniffs, inhaling his next piece of bacon. "I told you, though, I can't just pick up and leave. I don't… they pay for everything, it's not like I can get another job on top of this and get an apartment and stuff in the middle of the city."

Sinbad waves a hand at that. "Don't make it about money. Take for granted that I'd give you what he's giving you. If you want to stay with Kou that's fine, and I'd love to keep meeting like this, but it isn't about money. I'll pay for your apartment, your stuff, your food, and double your paycheck besides."

Judal eyeballs him, immediately skeptical in spite of how he wants to jump at the mere idea. "You don't even know me. What's the catch?"

"Catch?" Sinbad cocks his head. "I've seen your videos. I'd love to have you as my star, and I pay top dollar for talent like yours. No catch. Ask my other stars if you want to know what working for me is like."

"That's not it. It's…" Judal sighs, shaking his head with a frown. "A lot of people tell me that, you know. I mean, I don't let any of them take me home or fuck me, but-still. Kouen says guys like you are just poachers."

Three more chocolate-chip filled pancakes hit Judal's plate, and Sinbad finally pulls up a stool. "No pressure. No bullying. Just letting you know I'd be thrilled to have you. Want anything else to drink?"

"Ah… no, I'm good." Would a poacher just stop like that? Ugh. Sinbad doesn't seem like all of those other guys. Never has, and that's why Judal went home with him in the first place. He pokes at his pancakes a bit before starting in on them, albeit a little more slowly than before. "You're really nice to me, it's weird sometimes."

Sinbad sets down his fork. "It shouldn't be weird to be nice, especially not with what we do. We get looked down on enough by the outside world, we should at least extend a helping hand to each other. That's what I think. Also, on an unrelated note, I definitely make it a point to be nice to boys that are as cute as you."

Judal opens his mouth, then shuts again, but not before stuffing a generous amount of pancakes into it and taking the time to chew and swallow. "'m 23," he finally says, swallowing. "Shouldn't call me a boy. Well, outside the bedroom."

And I'm a magical pink unicorn. "Right, twenty-three. Men as cute as you, then. What year were you born, again?"

"That's really not nice," is the growl to follow.

Sinbad leans forward on his elbows, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Neither is lying. Come on, I'm not going to give you grief as long as you're at least eighteen." And even if you aren't I'll probably just keep that to myself.

Judal scowls, poking at his pancakes a bit more before deciding eating is more fun than being annoyed. "… I turned 18 a few months ago," he admits. "I don't look that young, do I?"

"You sure as hell don't look twenty-three," Sinbad says with some amusement. "Not to me, anyway. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me." Unless Kouen tries to hurt you, in which case this will be highly convenient to use against him.

"Well, you don't look 28, and no one says anything about that," Judal protests with a little huff. "You're a jerk, if you try to use this as blackmail, I'll bite you."

"Don't be silly," Sinbad says with a grin. "What possible reason could I have to do something like that? You're far too cute to blackmail."

"I dunno, people are just jerks, you never know," he grumbles, stabbing an escaped chocolate chip before simply popping it into his mouth. "You know, there are a lot of rumors about you floating around lately."

"Oh?" That's not news, but it's been a while since Sinbad has heard the rumors coming from other studios. "What do they say about me?"

"That you and your secretary are fucking," Judal bluntly offers, scraping the last bit of his eggs off the plate to leave it looking rather licked clean. "That's kinda cliche, huh? I've never seen much of him, is he hot?"

Sinbad bursts out laughing at that. "I'm flattered. Yes, he's hot, but he'll have none of that. If that's the worst they say, I'm losing my touch."

"What, is he straight or something?" The idea of someone not wanting to fuck Sinbad is outright bizarre.

"Can't tell. From what I see, he doesn't have sex. I know," Sinbad adds, "I think it's weird too."

Judal stares, slowly licking his fork clean. "… How do you not have sex? And work for a porn studio on top of that?"

"I ask him the same thing all the time. He says it's a lot easier than having sex all the time." Sinbad slowly shakes his head. "Weird guy, but he's the best asset I have."

"But you don't get to fuck him. Boring," Judal sighs, flopping forward over the countertop. "Ahh, I'm full now. I haven't had a breakfast like that in forever. Can I just move in or something?"

Sinbad thinks for a minute, then sets his fork down. "If you want to," he says, more seriously than he'd intended.

Judal blinks, not really expecting that when he had honestly been joking. Mostly, at any rate. "I… um, I don't think that would go over well. I was just kidding, besides."

Sinbad shrugs. "Offer stands. Any time, not just today. It's not like I don't have the room, besides," he points out, sweeping a hand out to indicate the rather spacious accommodations. Not like I haven't taken in worse, in my time.

"… Yeah, I guess." It's probably bad to imagine it and think that it would be so nice, being Sinbad's live-in boyfriend. No, not boyfriend. He hasn't asked you to be his boyfriend. Judal pouts a little at the thought. "Would you date me?" Kind of impossible to ask. "You know, hypothetically."

Sinbad blinks. "Aren't we on a date right now? Hell, you slept over and I cooked for you, either we're on a date or I'm your babysitter, and as you pointed out...you're twenty-three."

"Oh." Judal blinks back at him. "I thought this was just you trying… to get me to sign on or something. And the sex was kind of a bonus…"

Sinbad snorts. "You're your own agent, aren't you? When I talk about contracts, I'm trying to get you to sign on. When I talk about how good you look spread out on my floor, or how cute you look when you're eating bacon, it's because I like having you in my house." He shrugs. "But if you'd like to talk about business, we can do that. I'd rather just talk, though. I get enough work at work."

"No, I'd much rather talk about the other things, I just-" Judal flops forward, cheek pressing to the countertop with a pout. "Sorry," he eventually, grumpily adds. "I'm not used to this. I want to have fun with you, not talk about work. No one else is any fun, or if they are, they still have something else in mind."

"So what do you like to do for fun?" Sinbad reaches out a hand, scratching gently through Judal's hair. "When you're not working or hanging around with the Rens, what do you like to do? Sports? Videogames? Furniture decorating, competitive baking, throwing vegetables at other vegetables in protest?"

"The last part sounds fun." It's a little hard to concentrate when Sinbad is petting his hair like that, and Judal sighs, eyes lidding as he nearly goes limp. "Uh… mnn, not like I have a lot of time off. I work out and stuff. Like swimming."

"Really?" Sinbad leans forward, brushing his lips over the curve of Judal's ear as he murmurs, "When I was young, I'd never seen the ocean. When I moved out here, I was so taken with it that I started swimming every day. Learned to surf and everything."

Judal thinks he hears about half of that, what with the shiver that rakes down his spine. "… Really like the beach," he manages. "We should go sometime. You know, when it's not so cold."

"Sounds good." Sinbad scrapes the edge of his teeth just barely over the soft skin of Judal's ear. "Guess I'll have to make sure to keep you happy until it gets warm, hmm?"

"Ahh… yeah… that," Judal mutters, listing to the side to butt his head against Sinbad's shoulder. "Quit it, or we're not gonna get on film this time either." Not that I even care at this point. Just want you.

"Mmm, you make a good point." Sinbad straightens up, ignoring the kitchen mess (the cleaning lady gets paid plenty), and tugging on Judal's hand. "You really like being bitten, hmm? You look like you got attacked by a tiger, and you know I'm not going to be able to stop."

"Like being bitten, like biting," Judal sighs, sliding out of his seat and all but tumbling his way after Sinbad. "I'm gonna get in trouble, it looks like you tried to eat me. You should do it more."

"In for a penny, in for a pound," Sinbad agrees cheerfully, leaning down to bite at Judal's neck as he walks, hands coming up to pinch and tickle at the young man's sides. It's not his fault Judal is so pinchable, after all.

Judal squeaks, turning around and grabbing at Sinbad's ponytail in revenge as he rather deliberately backs himself into a wall. "Mean-I told you, we're not even gonna be able to film it if you keep this up."

"Maybe I should just throw you over my shoulder?" Sinbad all but purrs, urging Judal along with grabbing hands, laughing and trying to make the kid squirm. The tug to his ponytail does nothing but make him growl, shooing Judal into the nearest room. "Take your clothes off while I set up."

"It's your shirt, sure you don't want me to keep it on?" Times like this he kind of does wish he had a thong on or something, Sinbad would probably really get off on seeing that peeking out from underneath his own shirt. Judal flops back onto the bed nonetheless, plucking at the buttons lazily. "Smells like you. Can I take it with me, when I go home?"

Sinbad spares a glance over his shoulder to see Judal laying there plucking at his shirt, and damn, if he wasn't hard before…

"You can take anything you want. Yeah, you're right, it looks better on, far be it from me to second guess your instincts." He sets up the key light, the fill and the diffuser, then lastly a couple of cameras, flicking them both on. "You want to say hi before we start?"

Judal hums, unbuttoning the first few buttons and not much more as he beams at the camera, stretching his arms up deliberately to pull his hair back up into its usual ponytail. "Just 'hi', hmm? Okay," he sighs, flopping forward onto his elbows, ass deliberately wriggling as it hikes up. "Hi, I'm Judal, and I'm Sin's new pet."

Sinbad flicks on the last camera, then turns off the overhead light, crawling down on top of Judal. "No tricks," he murmurs, "and no mugging for the camera. This isn't getting sold, this is just so I can remember how well I fucked you."

He drags a hand down Judal's abs, palming his cock slowly. "You're already thinking about getting my cock in you, aren't you, my new pet?"

Judal wants to protest-it's not like he tries to perform, anyway-but the words disappear from his tongue when Sinbad's hands are on him again, a shudder raking down his spine and his legs immediately, eagerly splaying wide.

"What else is there to think about?" Ugh, god, Sinbad has nice hands. Judal's eyes flutter, his own scraping down Sinbad's back, running down his sides and hooking into the waist of his boxer. "Off," he lowly demands.

Sinbad loses the boxers without a second thought, pushing his shirt up higher on Judal's body and leaning down to bite, finding new, unmarked spots all the time and setting gleefully about ruining them. "On your knees this time," he suggests. "I want to get as deep in you as possible and feel you writhe."

The idea of that is enough to make him writhe, but Judal manages a little nod, twisting over as quickly as he can manage. He fumbles with a few more of the buttons, letting the shirt just cling to his shoulders instead, easily hiked up as he settles onto his knees, sinking down to his elbows with a little shudder. "You were pretty deep last time," he breathlessly points out, cock twitching at the memory, his toes curling a bit.

"Yeah. You took me really well, I was impressed," Sinbad murmurs, sliding a hand down Judal's spine. He spends a few long minutes just running his hands over Judal's body, stroking, caressing, trying to feel every inch of him just in case they don't get to do this again for a long time. "When you're ready," he says softly in Judal's ear, "use the lube, open yourself up for me."

There's no way he could reach for it fast enough. Judal's fingers are slick with the stuff when he squirms to twist back, dragging fingers so eager that they shake as they drag over his own hole, mouth falling open at the soreness from just the night prior, the ache of wriggling one, two fingers inside and making himself slick and ready all over again. A huff of breath, and Judal buries his face down into the sheets, a hitching little whine leaving his throat. "Want you really bad." His eyes squeeze shut as he works in a third finger, groaning as his body lurches back onto his own hand. "N-need it, your cock is so much better-"

Sinbad leans down, sliding in another finger along with Judal's, longer, at a better angle, twisting slowly. "You," he murmurs, "look good when you're stuffed full. Damn, you're still sore and red from last night. You sure you can take me again?"

He doesn't ask if Judal wants him to wear a condom. If he didn't last time, he probably doesn't this time, and the thought of taking him raw like this again is enough to get Sinbad achingly hard.

Sinbad's fingers are bigger than his by far, and to have one inside, along with three of his own-Judal chokes on a high, breathy sound, already feeling so overfull that it aches, and he twists to try and spread his legs a bit more, even as they shake so hard that he can barely keep himself upright. "I… I c-can do it… god, even your fingers are big."

Sinbad moves, grabbing Judal's wrist and easing his fingers out, pinning both of his wrists down to the bed. He lets the head of his cock rub against the inside of one smooth thigh, dragging a trail of clear fluid up as he leans down over Judal's back. "Your legs are spread so wide...looks like you really want me." He presses a kiss to the back of Judal's shoulder, the head of his cock just barely pressing against his hole. "Do you?"

A desperate noise pulls from Judal's throat, more a mewl than anything else, and he tries to wriggle back no matter how he's held, the press of Sinbad's cock against him promising a thick stretch that makes him groan. "Need you," he begs, wishing he could spread his legs even wider. His own cock throbs, already dripping onto the sheets as he squirms, arching his back. "N-need you, your fingers, whatever else you wanna put in me-just-please-"

"At some point," Sinbad promises, his voice low, almost a threat, "I'm going to tie you down to the bed and toy with you all day, putting all sorts of things inside you. I wonder how loud I can make you scream?" He scrapes his teeth down the side of Judal's neck. "And for how long?" I wonder if I can make you scream my name, he thinks darkly, and slowly, agonizingly slowly, pushes the head of his cock inside.

That first stretch makes him whine, high and breathy and close to sobbing at how he aches with that thick cock opening him up again. Judal's legs tremble, chest heaving as he tries to squirm back, all the more turned on by the idea of Sinbad just tying him down, fucking him, stuffing him full, not even just with his cock-with toys, whatever he wanted-

"Please-" Is he begging for that, or for Sinbad to fuck him harder? God, Judal doesn't even know. He groans, thrashing against the man's hold on his wrists, trying desperately to slide back further on Sinbad's cock. "Need you to fuck me, need you in really deep-"

"Gonna take you deep," Sinbad promises. "Deep, and hard-but first, I want you to feel every inch."

It's torture to go so slow, but it's worth it, worth it with the agonizing stretch around him, how somehow Judal manages to stay so tight, and Sinbad really can't tell who he's torturing more. It doesn't matter when it's so good, and Sinbad lets out a long, low groan at the tight clench around him. "You...god. You like it when your Daddy fucks you with that big cock?"

It's unfair how Judal can feel every inch of Sinbad sinking into him like this, even more unfair how he's helpless to do anything but shiver and squirm and take it, his mouth falling open as he sucks in a deep, desperate gulp of air, and ah, god, Sinbad's in him so deep that he's not sure he can stand it.

"…T…too much," Judal whimpers, and his body just clenches tighter as he says it, a hiccuping, desperate sound escaping him. "Your little girl's t-trying to be good, Daddy, your cock is just so big-"

"She can take it." Sinbad presses a kiss to Judal's neck, nuzzling down with little sucks and bites, running his hands up and down Judal's sides as he sinks in as deep as he can get, finally nestling his hips tight against Judal's ass. "Look at that, what a good girl, taking all her Daddy's cock like that." He rocks in slowly, pressing in harder, eyes half-closed in bliss. "So tight and sweet around me, baby...squeeze that ass around me, you know what your Daddy likes."

There's nothing, nothing like those words, the sound of someone else getting off so much from him. Judal's cock aches, twitching and throbbing as Sinbad fucks him, shuddering as he clenches tight around that thick cock, squirming his way back and rubbing his face down into the bed, biting the sheets when Sinbad presses just shy of right. "God," he groans, trembling, sweat beading at his brow as it furrows with the deep, hard slide of Sinbad's cock inside of him. "God, you feel so good-"

"That feel good?" Sinbad's breath is rough, uneven as he rolls his hips slowly, pulling out just a few inches before sliding back in, over and over, hands gripping Judal's waist tight. "Come on, baby, ride back on me, let me see how much you love my cock." It's easy to tell Judal loves it, can't get enough, just from how he trembles and moans, and Sinbad can't help but thrust in harder with every lewd noise from Judal's throat.

Judal doesn't need to be told twice. He wriggles back with a ragged gasp, grabbing the sheets for some kind of leverage as he humps his way back, a high, mewling whine escaping his lips as he throws his head back. "You have the best cock, Daddy," he groans, heaving out a ragged breath at that slick, tight slide of Sinbad's cock. "Fuck me hard, I wanna feel you come-ahh, mark me up this time, come on me-"

Just those words make Sinbad ache, cock throbbing inside Judal, hard and eager. "What a good girl," he breathes, and rewards Judal with a few hard, deep thrusts, pulling out farther so he can hit every good spot on the way in. "Where do you want my come, huh? Your pretty face, or your pretty ass?" He punctuates the question with a sharp slap to Judal's rear, yanking him back into it.

It takes a moment to answer that when his chest heaves, his body shaking so hard he thinks he might pass out with every hard, perfect thrust, every slap of those big, strong hands that makes his legs buckle out from under him and his own cock twitch. "I… ah, god," Judal moans, biting into the sheets again when his eyes roll back. "C-come on my face, Daddy-wanna be able to taste you, lick you up-"

Sinbad gives another sharp bite to Judal's neck, then pulls out, flipping Judal onto his back, long years of practice making sure he's getting a good angle without really putting any thought into it. "Touch yourself," he orders breathlessly. "I want to see you jack your pretty cock when I'm coming on your face, baby girl."

The words turn into a groan at the end as he fists his own cock, and Judal's eager, expectant, flushed face is the last thing he sees before he comes hard, shooting slick and messy over Judal's cheeks, eyelids, and plush soft lips.

He barely has time to touch himself, barely needs to even if his fingers reflexively close tight around his own aching cock. Judal all but sobs as he comes hard, spilling over his own fist and stomach as Sinbad comes hot and slick over his face, and he groans, parting his lips to taste what drips over him, eagerly sucking on his own lower lip to lick all of it up. "Fuck," he manages to whisper, and one, already sticky hand lifts to his lips, sucking his own fingers clean before he swipes them over his eyelids to lap at that as well. "You're just… you're not fair."

Sinbad sags back down to the bed, reaching a hand out to drag his thumb over Judal's sticky lips before dipping it briefly inside. "Coming from someone who looks like you right now," he pants, relaxing back onto his elbows, "that's one hell of a compliment."

Judal's eyes flutter, his mouth eagerly closing around Sinbad's thumb to suck it into his mouth with a wriggle of his tongue. "God," he moans, grabbing at Sinbad's wrist to keep his hand close. "Want you to keep me."

Sinbad strokes his thumb over the soft drag of Judal's tongue, an almost surprised expression of affection on his face. "If it's up to me," he murmurs, other hand coming up to stroke through Judal's hair, "I'll never let you go."

Ugh, that sounds nice.

Judal lets his eyes contently slide mostly shut, hazy and out of focus as he licks and nibbles at Sinbad's thumb, content to lie there sated and messy when it all feels so good-

And then the doorbell rings.

With a growl, he tightens his hand on Sinbad's wrist. "Not allowed," he petulantly mutters.

Sinbad stretches out, wrapping his arm around Judal and nestling up behind him. "If it's Ja'far or the cleaning lady, they have keys. If it's anyone else, they can fuck off. I'm busy."

Judal likes that answer. He wriggles back against Sinbad with a happy little noise, butting up underneath the other man's chin. "You make a great pillow," he sighs. "Hey, if I stayed, do I get to sleep in your bed with you?"

The doorbell rings again. Judal growls.

Sinbad tightens his hold on Judal, burying his face in the kid's hair. "Sure you can. This one, or the other one? You can have all of them at once piled together for all I care." Go the fuck away, I'm busy.

"Don't care as long as you're in it," Judal fairly purrs, nuzzling at Sinbad's neck. "Wanna curl up like this with you all the time. You're warm."

The doorbell comes with an annoyed knock this time. "Hey, c'mon! I'm not waiting around for my health, Judal, I know you're there!"

Oh.

Oh, shit.

Judal slinks back into Sinbad's chest with a grimace, wishing he could pull something over his face.

The voice is unfamiliar, and Sinbad's brows draw together. "You want me to get rid of this clown?"

"… Ah… no," Judal mutters, raking a hand back through his bangs. "Well, I mean, I guess you could try. He's… always really persistent, it'd probably just be best if I go…"

"But I don't want you to go. I'm good at telling people to fuck off, just wait here," Sinbad murmurs, nuzzling a kiss behind Judal's ear. He climbs up, tugging on his boxers. "Give me two minutes, I'll be back."

Judal hesitates, but slowly nods, wriggling his way down into the sheets. "If you're sure," he hedges, unable to keep from grinning a bit at the fact that someone wants him to stay, and would deal with that brat for him. "Just-he's kind of a bitch, fair warning."

"I'll be careful," Sinbad assures him with a grin. He tugs a dressing gown over his shoulders, not bothering to tie it shut, and closes the door behind him as he strides out to the living room, unlocking the door with a raised eyebrow.

Ah.

Not exactly what he was expecting. "Can I help you?" he asks the startlingly pretty boy standing with a hip cocked out on his doorstep.

Kouha's eyebrows immediately shoot up. "Ah," he says, glancing down at his phone before looking back up at Sinbad. Even in the cold weather, he's still dressed less-than-braced for it, with ribbed socks that might as well be thigh highs clinging to rather shapely legs and a wool, button-up coat thrown over what is probably little more than a shirt and shorts. "Should've figured out this was your apartment. So you've been playing with Judal, huh? Hand him over, En's mad enough already."

Sinbad folds his arms, unable to keep himself from giving the boy a long, lingering look-boy? Girl? Boy, probably-up and down. Definitely pretty, with the hair and the look that marks him as Kou Studios property, and the attitude that marks him as family. "Don't know what you're talking about. He's not here. And you are?"

A long-suffering sigh follows. "Kouha Ren," he introduces, and immediately tips his head to peer around Sinbad into his apartment. "I know he's there. GPS," he offers, holding up his phone with a little wave of it. "Juuu, c'mon, En's mad at you!"

Damn GPS and the modern world. Sinbad folds his arms, shifting his weight in a slightly more confrontational manner. "The one who gets bounced around expensive boarding schools, right? Should have known. He's not here. Left his phone in my car, I brought it up to keep it safe. Want it back?"

Kouha's eyes immediately roll. "You smell like sex," he bluntly says. "Nice bite marks, too. Got a girl that likes to nibble? With-" He reaches up, plucking a long, dark hair from Sinbad's shoulder. "Long, black hair? Not usually your type."

Sinbad's hand darts out to catch Kouha's wrist, giving it a squeeze. "Careful," he warns. "I'm not one of your brother's little pets. You have no right to be in my space."

The younger man's lips slowly curve, and he stretches up on tiptoe, tugging his wrist away with a delicate little pull. "No? Sounds like that might make it a little more fun. According to your stuff from back in the day, you like it when someone invades your personal space."

Kouha's got more muscle on him than Sinbad had anticipated, that's for sure. Then again, judging by what he's heard of the family, he probably uses it for things that would land him in prison if he were a less wealthy boy. "I had standards back then. Little boys who look like little girls aren't my type."

Kouha laughs outright at that. "What a load of bullshit. Seriously, just tell him to get his stuff and clean up and let's go. My driver's not gonna wait all day and I'm getting sick and tired of listening to En bitch."

"You," Sinbad says slowly, "seem to be laboring under the misapprehension that you can come to my home and tell me what to do. Get out, or I'll call security." I'd rather deal with you myself, but that would cause a fuss and Ja'far would be pissed.

"Ooh, scary. You," Kouha breathes, leaning forward to tap a finger against Sinbad's chest, "could stand for someone to loosen you up. If Judal isn't doing it for you, then you've got a real problem on your hands."

The urge to put his hands on the boy is almost overwhelming. It's harder than it should be to laugh, leaning against the doorframe. "Are you volunteering for the job? I think I'd have to check ID."

Kouha's eyelashes bat. "I'm old enough for you, or so I've heard. Let me come in, maybe all three of us can have a little fun. I know what really makes Judal tick."

Sinbad extends an arm across the doorframe. "Out. He's not here, and I don't want to deal with you again." He shuts the door, watching through the peephole to see how long it takes Kouha to get the message.

A huff, and an annoyed, booted kick to the door is Kouha's response before he lingers a moment longer prior to stalking away.

"… Are you watching his ass, or him?" is Judal's wry reply as he pokes his head around the corner of the hall. "Is he gone? Told you he's annoying."

"No ass to watch, skinny thing like him," Sinbad mutters, turning away and smiling at the sight of Judal. He crosses the distance quickly, tilting Judal's face up for a long kiss before murmuring against his lips, "I'd deal with a lot more annoying shit than that to keep you here."

Judal wants to relax as much as he had earlier, but now it's close to impossible, with the knowledge that they know where he is. He sighs, sinking back onto his heels, frowning a little against Sinbad's lips. "Sorry. Should've answered Kouen's calls from earlier. I kinda… left my phone out on your balcony so I wouldn't have to listen to it."

Sinbad laughs. "Very naughty. You could just turn it off, you know." He tugs Judal closer, letting his fingers brush over Judal's neck. "If you don't want to be here for a while, let's go out. I'll take you...hmm. Ice skating? Lunch? I'll fly us to wine country for the day if you want."

"If I turned it off, he'd just get madder." He huffs, butting his face into Sinbad's shoulder. "You're too nice." I'm gonna get used to it, that's annoying.

One large hand comes up to stroke Judal's hair, the other sliding around his waist. "That's not a yes. Are you saying you want to leave?"

"… I should probably just go back," is the eventual, reluctant reply. Why? a little voice asks, and it makes him tired thinking about all the reasons why he shouldn't bother. Sinbad's offered to let him stay here, is offering to feed and house him and pay for whatever he needs-

Then again, there's a lot of people that have said that.

"We can hook up again later. You know, after I make sure Kouen's not gonna fire me or something." Judal pulls back, scrubbing a hand back through his hair. "Sorry. Business, you know about all that."

Sinbad starts to protest-but then memory reminds him of another time, another man who had tugged on his ponytail and softly asked him to stay, when the lure of stardom and the dreams had been too big for him to wait. "Yeah. I understand."

He squeezes Judal tight around the waist with a little sigh. "I'll be here, or at the studio, and you have my cell number if you ever want me. You want me to drive you back, or will you take a cab?"

Judal sets his teeth down into Sinbad's shoulder, a light nibble to silence his own tongue from going off on a dozen reasons about why Sinbad should ask him one more time to stay, because he'll probably give in if he does it just one more time. "Cab." Not the answer he wants to give. "He's already gonna be mad that I was here. I don't want you to have to deal with him."

Sinbad cups Judal's face in his hands, holding his gaze. "I would," he says simply. "Kouen or Kouha or anyone else, if it meant I got to keep you here with me."

He brushes a last kiss over those pretty lips, letting Judal go with a rueful grin, tying his hair back. "Get your stuff, if you're going to go. Or you'll tempt me to keep it so I can drag you back here."

Judal's nose scrunches up as he rocks back onto his heels. "I'll call you," he promises, though at this point, he's a little worried that it might be a lie. "Enjoy that video while I'm not here, okay?"

"Over and over again," Sinbad promises. He gives Judal's ass a gentle slap, sending him on his way before he really does just toss the kid over his shoulder and keep him. "If I don't see you in a week, I'll come kidnap you."

"Yeah, yeah." As if Kouen will let you anywhere near the studio from now on.