Triciaqaf
Totally fictional, I don’t know these men, and may they forgive me for treating
them as characters, every bit as much as their actual characters. But it’s so
fun, and tempting. I just can’t help it…
None of the details of this are based on fact in any way – it’s totally, 100%
out of my sick imagination. :)
A gapfiller, if you can call RPS that, for ep. 107 – that v. lovely scene where
Craig realizes Justin is gay, and we get to watch Brian fuck the shit out of
him.
It’s just about the smut, really. Or it will be, anyway… ;)
Part 1
Randy’s POV
It had been a disaster from the moment we started. Traffic was completely fucking
snarled this morning and it had taken me 25 minutes to find a cab that would
even stop to pick me up. The ride in it was scary enough to make me understand
why people take public transit. Buses, even. Christ.
Then one of the makeup staff had a meltdown in the middle of covering my tattoo,
running off muttering about her boyfriend and lying sons of bitches and how
could he do this to her… It was the second one we’d lost in a month. Was putting
body paint on us that horrible?
And I had managed to forget that we were filming a sex scene today, which really
wasn’t that big a deal, but I hadn’t even had a fucking coffee when Dan mentioned
the closed set. And this episode had a new director, who still looked more nervous
than I did on the first day.
It was not looking promising.
Gale and I had been working together for going on two months now, and I was
getting used to his style, his personality, his quirks. We’d even hung
out together outside of the set a few times, but mostly with other people in
the cast. His weed was great, which was no doubt why I found spending time with
him so relaxing. It was just easy – no need to prove anything, to impress anyone.
He was so NOT Brian that it was almost mind-boggling that they’d cast him in
the first place. Except for how damn convincing his sexual confidence was, when
he wanted it to be. Made me shake my head when I watched him be goofy and quiet
and just so unlike Brian most of the time, but when he turned it on – well,
that was a different story. But I guess the same was true for me. A timid teenage
virgin I was not.
This would only be the second time we’d had to be fully naked for an explicit
scene. The first (and god, what a way that was to meet your co-star for
the second time) was the first episode we filmed. Since then we’d done some
love scenes, but one or both of us had been clothed, or we’d been naked but
hadn’t had to simulate sex on screen, not explicitly, anyway.
You could feel the stress in the air, the quiet, hushed tones that people were
using, the sympathetic smiles they were sending our way. Fuck. I hated doing
the sex scenes already and it was only early in the season.
And we were running behind schedule, so although Ron and Dan were trying to
be supportive and understanding and not “rush the intimacy”, they had also made
it clear we needed to finish this scene today, no matter how fucking awkward
it was.
…………….
I walked up the steps to the loft bedroom where Gale was already waiting, sitting
in his bathrobe looking vaguely queasy. He gave me a genuine smile though, which
helped lift the weight that was pressing on my shoulders.
We had already filmed much of this episode, with all the outside shots done
and the diner and school location shots finished too. We’d even done the post-car
accident shots at the loft, where everyone gets together to see how Brian is,
and Michael and his doctor come in to find us all dancing. Gale had been very
sweet when we filmed that, making me laugh and teasing me between every take.
He really was a pretty good guy, actually.
We both looked at each other and I knew he could see the discomfort on my face.
It wasn’t that I minded nudity, or even doing sex scenes generally, but there
was something about the explicitness of these scenes that rubbed me the wrong
way. I knew we were trying to break ground with this show, and trying to shock
the mainstream market into paying attention, but it still felt vaguely obscene.
Overly titillating, maybe.
Which had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that a beautiful, hard, virile
man was about to pretend to fuck me into the mattress while we were both naked.
One who slept with women, apparently, regardless of the way he looked at me
or the way his body moved towards mine in every scene where we had to touch.
The lighting guys were moving around us, taking readings and moving light stands
while the director and Dan huddled together with serious looks on their faces.
I adjusted my cock sock through my bathrobe, trying to get the damn thing to
stay where it was supposed to without cutting off my circulation. They were
such a stupid concept, really, although I guess they kept the embarrassment
to a manageable level.
Gale watched me, looking away when I caught him.
He waited for me to get on the bed, not looking when I dropped my robe and climbed
onto the grey sheets. I laid flat on my stomach, letting him climb onto the
bed behind me, waiting for the signal from the director that we were ready to
go.
Everyone had already cleared the set, the room quiet and empty but for those
crew who needed to be there. Dan and Ron were there, of course, but the lights
were reasonably low in the bedroom set, although the bright spotlight shining
through the blinds was hitting me in the eye each time I looked up. I pushed
my face into the mattress and waited for the clapboard.
I jumped at the snap of it, but then Gale’s hand was on my back, reassuring,
soothing. I lifted up to my hands and knees, but froze when his legs pressed
against mine, forcing mine together instinctively. He leaned over me, his stomach
hitting my lower back and I pressed back down into the bed.
“Cut!”
Gale lifted back up, the air cold where his skin moved away from mine. I shook
my head, trying to focus.
We started again, his body warm behind me as he leaned over me, the sharp angles
of his hips pressing into my ass. I heard the director’s sigh a split second
before the cameras stopped again.
“You ok, Randy?” Gale asked quietly.
“Yeah, fine. Sorry – still a bit frazzled from my trip in this morning. I’ll
be fine – sorry David,” I smiled at the director.
Ok, back in the game.
We went through it twelve more times before the director called a break. I could
see the frustration on his face, and Ron looked like he was going to strangle
me.
Fuck, what did they want? This wasn’t easy, you know.
Gale got up and put his bathrobe back on, and I wanted a cigarette so badly
my hands were shaking.
“Do we have time for a smoke break?” Gale looked around, asking no one in particular.
“No,” David snapped, but then he blanched at the look on Gale’s face. “Only
a very quick one, and don’t mess up your makeup.”
Gale smiled sweetly and threw my bathrobe at me. “Hurry up,” he muttered, pulling
me by the arm.
I stumbled after him, wrapping my robe around me as we hurried through the plywood
halls. He ducked into his change room quickly as we passed it, not even waiting
until we were at the door before he lit up, passing the cigarette to me. I sucked
the smoke into my lungs gratefully, rushing behind his long strides.
We stayed inside the doorway as the late fall air blew cold into the hall. He
said nothing, for which I was eternally grateful.
I turned my head sharply at him when I smelled the pungent smoke, the proffered
toke dangling from his fingers. I raised an eyebrow at him but he didn’t even
blink, just shrugged his shoulders and put the joint back to his lips.
He laughed a little when I grabbed it from his fingers, drawing deeply on it
as my eyes closed. I handed it back to him and we stood in silence, holding
the smoke in our lungs as long as possible before we had to go back.
Ron scowled at us as we walked back into the bedroom set, Gale’s eyes already
rimmed with red. He was such a fucking easy mark, especially for a guy who smoked
as much pot as he did.
We ditched our robes quickly, settling back into our places on the bed. I felt
a little better with some nicotine and dope in my system. But the moment his
legs brushed the back of mine, I froze up again, pulling away from him.
We struggled through another ten takes but I couldn’t seem to get comfortable.
I’d just think I had it, but then David would yell “cut” and we’d be starting
all over again. It felt so ridiculous to have Gale draped over the back of me.
I couldn’t stop myself from feeling like this whole scene was unnecessary. The
way Ron watched Gale drop his bathrobe didn’t exactly make me feel better about
it either.
We started again, and Gale pushed up against me, pressing his chest into my
back. I stiffened, bracing myself on the bed, waiting. When his hips didn’t
start to move behind me, I was just about to look over my shoulder when I heard
his voice.
“You ever bottom, Randy?” His voice was quiet and soft, his lips against my
ear. No one else would be able to hear him.
“Huh?” I froze completely, trying to ignore the way my cock responded to the
tone of his voice.
“Do you?”
Jesus. “Uh, yeah. Sometimes.” Why were we having this conversation?
“Does it feel good?”
I sputtered out a choking cough. I think the pot must have gone to my head more
than I thought.
He waited, his hips pressed against the back of my legs. I had no fucking idea
why David hadn’t called “cut” yet, but apparently they were just letting this
happen. They couldn’t hear what he was saying anyway.
“What does it feel like?” His voice was smoother now, more like Brian’s. But
still not quite.
I focused on breathing in, breathing out. Not responding. Ignoring the warmth
of his skin hovering over mine.
“Pretend it’s real, Randy.”
Um, what?
He folded himself over me, his chest pressing fully along my back, his lips
at the top of my spine. I stopped breathing when he snapped his hips gently
behind me.
“Pretend I’m fucking you.” He kissed the bottom of my neck. “Filling you.” He
kissed me again. My cock sock was about to be in serious trouble. I closed my
eyes.
“Spread your legs.”
That popped my eyes open.
“What?”
“Move ‘em apart. Like this,” he moved his knee inside mine, pushing my legs
wider on the bed.
“Gale!” I felt the heat prickle up the back of my spine as he exposed me but
kept his body tight against mine. “What the fuck…”
“You want to listen to me, or you want to spend all day doing this?” He shifted
so his legs lined up behind mine, both of us spread wider on the bed.
What a question.
“Pretend the cameras aren’t here, ignore the lights.” He nuzzled his nose into
the back of my neck, his hips moving slowly behind me. My cock was creeping
up my leg. Fuck.
“Think about what it feels like, how good it can feel,” he whispered in my ear,
his voice low and hypnotic.
“Close my eyes and think of England?” How I could joke at a time like this was
beyond me, but I was nervous.
He laughed, his body shaking over me. “Well, that’s not exactly what I meant,
but if it works…”
Huh. Yeah. Thinking of England was starting to look like a better idea as I
felt the sweat break out on my upper lip. His entire body was pressed against
mine, the hard angles and long muscles rippling behind me as he moved.
“You gotta be into it for this scene, Randy.”
Not being into it was no longer a problem.
I could see Ron and Dan and David conferring off to one side, but they were
still leaving us alone, letting Gale talk me down. Or, um, up. And letting the
cameras roll.
I closed my eyes, my head falling to the bed. He started to rock behind me and
I couldn’t move. Hell, I couldn’t think at this point.
He pressed down on me, his torso covering me completely as he leaned us both
into the bed. My arm gave out and I flattened further, his body never leaving
mine, following me lower.
The cameras were in front of us and beside us, one filming through the slats
of the blinds and the other getting the full deal from the side view. I heard
the whirr of the lens beside us panning in for a closer zoom.
His hips kept moving, the rhythm primal and unmistakable. He sped up, the smallest
grunts leaving his lips as he rutted against me.
“Move, Randy,” he muttered. “Come on.”
The harshness of his whisper startled me, sending an intense shudder down my
spine. I lifted my hips back into him, moving slightly with his rhythm. This
was so not a good idea, but it was the only thing I could do. Hell, it was what
I was supposed to do. At least what my character was supposed to do.
“Yeah, good,” he whispered. I pressed my chest lower into the bed, my ass pushing
back into his legs. I cringed when I realized there was nothing but a thin layer
of nylon between his cock and my bare skin. Don’t focus on that, Randy.
I moved a little more with him, letting my back arch deeper. He rocked against
me, pretending to fuck me, his hands wandering my sides and my back, his breath
warm on the back of my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I was NOT going
to think about this. No, not going to read anything into the accuracy of his
angle, the way his hands pulled me back tighter against him, the way his cock
sock rubbed against my balls.
A low sound from deep within his chest rumbled through me and I almost stopped,
but then his forehead hit the back of my neck and he rocked me with him, my
body carried away under the urgency of his motion. I let myself be carried,
pushed along, my hips rocking deeper and my back arching, his cock unmistakably
heavy as it bumped into me over and over with his movements. His breath was
harsher, louder.
“Good!” I heard the director’s relief, and could see the pleased looks on Ron
and Dan’s faces. I ignored that too, but the combination of Gale’s face pressed
into my neck and his long angular body rubbing me, rocking me, fucking me –
this was too much. I gasped for air, his lips hot and soft against my skin as
he kissed my exposed neck before he turned his head and did the same thing on
my left side. I tipped my head up, arching my neck to give him more room as
I groaned.
‘ Not real, Randy. Not real,’ I chanted in my head.
“Good, good – keep going!” David nodded frantically, motioning the cameras around.
“Show me, come on – let me see how this feels!”
My head hit the mattress as Gale lifted up, his fingers wrapping around my hip
bone and holding me there as we writhed against each other. The tip of my cock
was brushing the bed and I prayed that no one could see how hard I was. I looked
up quickly but couldn’t tell whether anyone could see.
I could feel the heat of Gale’s breath on my back, his hand pressing too hard
into my hip. I grimaced but then he slid his hand up my back and down my arm,
pinning my upper body to the bed. The heat rippled through me as he pinned me,
my eyes closing as I tried to block out the thought of this, of what he probably
looked like. What he would look like.
My back arched so deeply that his forehead touched the back of my head but his
lower body never left mine, as he undulated against my skin. Then he lifted
up, his body weight on his hand holding me to the bed, my chest pressed down
as he slammed against my ass.
“Great, Gale! Harder!” The director’s voice cut through the fog building in
my head. “Movement – we need lots of movement.”
“Randy, come on – show me! It’s hard and fast, Randy, come on – feel it!”
Yeah. Great. Thanks.
Gale pressed his body down again, and I gasped as his cock slapped against my
balls, grabbing the sheets and twisting them in my fingers. He moaned into my
neck before he pulled back up, letting me breathe and I choked out a stuttered
breath before his hand moved on top of mine, his fingers sliding between mine.
I grabbed at them absently.
We kept moving, me trying to balance his weight as he kept shifting on top of
me. His hands roamed my sides, holding my waist as he kissed the top of my back,
his lips searing my skin. Then he lifted again, his hand moving back to pin
my arm as the other grasped the back of my neck, holding my head down. I closed
my eyes, unable to do anything but let him move me, pin me.
“Good, Gale – hold him down. Fuck him!”
I scowled at the director.
As soon as he let go of my arm I moved it out of the way – it was fucking numb
from his weight on it. I looked over my shoulder at him, hoping he’d get the
message to leave my arm alone, my hand reaching back to get his attention. Or
maybe to smack him.
He leaned forward more, covering me completely as he put his elbows on the bed
beside my head, kissing my ear, wrapping me totally in his embrace as he rocked
more shallowly against my ass. “So hot, Randy,” he whispered, his lips against
my ear.
I couldn’t breathe any more, couldn’t take it. I pushed up against him, gasping,
and he moved with me, letting me up.
“Cut!” The director rushed towards us. “Great work – that was amazing guys!”
He rushed back down to the cameras, everyone bustling around them.
I laid there, my heart pounding as he rolled to one side, his leg still over
mine before he turned completely, flopping on his back on the bed. I could hear
his breathing slowing back to normal.
“Christ.”
I looked over at him as he muttered it. I raised an eyebrow, wondering if it
was directed at me. His eyes were closed and he lay still for a minute, then
opened one and looked at me. He laughed when he saw the look on my face, rolling
up onto his side so his face was next to mine.
“Jesus – that was a work out,” he grinned. “My abs are going to hurt.”
“Huh, yeah,” I smiled. What the fuck do you say after something like that?
He didn’t seem to care that it was obvious he had been hard, his cock slowly
deflating inside the stupid nylon sock. I sure as fuck wasn’t about to move
from my stomach until mine did the same. It was no one’s business but mine.
“Wanna get a beer after work?” His grin was smaller but still devastatingly
charming. I cursed my luck and nodded, hoisting myself off the bed.