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puss_nd_bootsTitle: The Camera Eye: The Honest Image
Chapter: Installment 78 overall in The Camera Eye series. Links to previous installments can be found here.
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Porn industry AU, drama, smut, romance
Warnings: Male/male sex, polyamory, exhibitionism, dirty talk
Pairing: Junji x Mahiro (Kiryu) (main), mentions of Junji x Mahiro x Subaru x Tomoya (Royz) and Jui (Gotcharocka) x Mahiro
Disclaimer: Royz and Kiryu are property of BP Records, Gotcharocka is property of God Child Records, I own the story only.
Summary: Mahiro's surprise selection to a semi-mainstream magazine's porn power list has resulted in a lot of unexpected, lucrative offers for him. So why does he feel like something is wrong every time he steps in front of their cameras?
Notes: For the Pictures/Video square of my Season of Kink card. This story is a followup to an earlier Camera Eye story, One in a Dozen. It can be read as a standalone, but makes more sense if you've read the earlier fic.
When Mahiro had been named to the Dirty Dozen list, he didn't think it would have any long-term repercussions – especially considering that the dishonest reasons behind his selection still left a sour taste in his mouth. Being chosen as the “token gay” in a mainstream soft-porn publisher's annual “most powerful people in adult video” list wasn't exactly his idea of a way to get recognition.
Except recognition came his way – and sometimes, from the strangest of places. There was the “edgy” clothing boutique that wanted him to model some of their more fetish-y outfits for men in their new catalogue. There was the fringe fashion magazine that wanted to photograph him wearing a new line of men's jewelry, and the lube company that wanted him to use their product on-camera – with compensation involved for both Kiryu Video and himself.
The offers baffled him, at first. Why would someone want HIM to endorse their stuff? Especially at the size of the paychecks they were offering him? And they were substantial, indeed. Still, he hemmed and hawed over taking them at first.
His significant other, meanwhile, was thrilled about the opportunities – more thrilled than Mahiro was.
“Take them,” Junji said. “You wouldn't be offered them if they didn't think you were worth it, right?”
“But . . . the reason I was named to the Dirty Dozen . . .”
“They know nothing about that,” Junji said. “Far as they know, it was completely on the level. And, you know, you HAVE set sales records and won JAVAS. It's not like that bastard chose you at random for his look-at-me-I'm-so-politically-correct scheme. Hell, in a way, taking the deals is a middle finger to this guy, because it's you saying, 'I'm so much more than just a token gay.'”
Mahiro was still undecided about the whole thing, though . . . until, one day, he had the calculator app of his phone open, and was adding up all the numbers involved with the offer. When he saw the total, an idea occurred to him. Something he had been thinking of for awhile, keeping on the mental back burner because it was a nice idea, but he didn't think he'd be able to make it come true . . .
This, he thought, could make all the dreams I've been holding back become reality. It's certainly enough money to get things rolling. And if I can make this happen, it'll make me happy. But more importantly, it'll make Junji happy, and Subaru, and Tomoya.
So Mahiro took the deals, and before he knew it, he had entered the world of mainstream modeling. Well, sort-of-mainstream – the subject matter was still racy. You didn't hire a porn star to advertise completely family-friendly fare. But still, he was mostly clothed for the pictures – and the clothes weren't coming off bit-by-bit during the shoot.
He knew he should consider it a new level of his career, something upmarket and glamorous. It should make him feel happy, proud, confident. But instead . . . something was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something that just didn't feel right.
“I should be used to cameras by now,” he told Junji. “Lord knows I've had enough sex in front of them. But facing the camera for this kind of shoot . . . it just doesn't feel right, and I don't know why.”
“Look, babe,” Junji said, “I told you not to feel guilty about these deals. You DO deserve them. You HAVE earned them. Just relax and smile at the camera like you always do, okay?”
So he kept smiling, kept posting . . . modeling high-heeled kinky boots and strap-covered “bondage pants.” He kept smiling when the photographers told him he was beautiful. And still, something didn't feel right.
Finally, there came an assignment that gave him an idea of what the problem was.
* * *
It was for another photoshoot, but it was a most unusual one. “The theme is luxurious decadence,” the voice on the other end of the phone told him. “We're having people associated with the indulgent side of life photographed in wealthy surroundings.”
“This is for a fashion layout?” Mahiro said.
“Oh, no – a home decorating layout.”
“Excuse me?” Mahiro said.
“A decorating magazine. We've picked five luxury homes and we're taking pictures of them being inhabited by a stripper, a luxury chef, an heiress, a winemaker . . . and you, the award-winning porn star.”
And I'm probably the token gay again, Mahiro thought. “So I'm just to pose in this home . . . as if you were living there?”
“Exactly. In fact, the owner of the place is going to be completely away for the weekend and he said you could stay overnight there, if you wanted. You can invite some friends over for a house party if you don't mess things up.”
The house party idea did have appeal. Mahiro could have Junji, Subaru and Tomoya stay with them, and invite the Diamond Mine crew. He imagined the result might turn into an orgy, with various twosomes, threesomes and groups testing the springs of every bed – but it certainly wouldn't make a mess of the house.
“As long as the house party is included, I'm in,” he said.
“Fantastic!” said the person on the other end. “And if you have a significant other who wants to be in some of the pictures with you? So much the better! It'll make for some natural-looking domestic scenes.”
“I'll see if he's willing to do it,” Mahiro said. “He's part of our regular cast, so he's used to being on-camera.”
“We'll be in touch with more details, then,” the woman said. “Thank you, Mahiro-san!”
Well, he thought, at least Junji should be agreeable. And the house party idea is a good one. So why do I still feel like something is wrong?
* * *
The house in question was enough to take anyone's breath away. When Mahiro and Junji walked in, they were greeted with the sight of what seemed to be a ballroom, with a tiled floor underneath and a crystal chandelier overhead.
“Wow,” Junji said. “Just WOW. You could fit our whole apartment into this room alone!”
Mahiro glanced around, skeptically. “I don't know,” he said. “It reminds me of the Gilded Gala.”
Junji put an arm around Mahiro's shoulder. “Well, stop thinking like that,” he said. “This is no Gilded Gala. This is going to be a beautiful photoshoot with you at your most gorgeous, and tonight, it's going to be a house party. And nobody's going to be using anyone as a token gay.”
“I think about all that too much,” Mahiro said. “The Gilded Publishing thing, I mean. The fact that I was used . . .”
“Baby, I told you to forget about that,” Junji said. “This is something you earned by yourself, just by being awesome. It's got nothing to do with that, okay?” He hugged Mahiro. “Relax. Our friends are definitely going to thank you later. Jui might have some SPECIAL thanks for you.”
“Only someone in the porn industry would be happy about his boyfriend going off with a side lover,” Mahiro said.
“Hey, it's a sign of how much I love you,” Junji said, leaning over and pressing his head against Mahiro's. “I want you to be happy, and he makes you happy.”
Mahiro just closed his eyes. That was something else that was bothering him lately. Everyone in their little foursome had a regular “outside action” boyfriend – except Junji. Mahiro himself had Jui, Subaru had Toya, Tomoya had Kazi . . . Mahiro had harbored hopes at one point that sparks would fly between Junji and Jun, but then Hitomi had come along and completely swept Jun off his feet.
I want to find someone for Junji, Mahiro thought. I just wonder if there's someone in our group of friends I've overlooked . . .
A loud coughing distracted the two. They raised their heads to see a young man with dyed blond hair and a hip designer suit, cameras hanging around his neck.
“You must be Mahiro-san,” he said. “I'm Mizuki-san, I'm the photographer for this session.” He bowed. “And this is?”
“Tokai Junji,” Mahiro said. “I was told to bring a domestic partner.” He watched the man's face for any reaction to the fact that he'd brought a male.
“Wonderful to meet you, Tokai-san,” the photographer said. “We'll be using you for some shots in the kitchen later. Cooking stuff – we want to create a sense of domesticity.”
“I'd gladly be domestic in a house like this,” Junji said.
“Now, Mahiro-san, if you'd come over here, the stylists can get you ready and we can talk about your first shots . . .”
Mahiro found himself pulled away from Junji and delivered into the hands of stylists and shoot coordinators and Lord only knew what. It was all rather . . . numbing. And it contributed to the feeling that something was wrong.
Why can't I put my finger on it? he thought. Why can't I just relax and enjoy the shoot like Junji wants me to do?
* * *
“Act like you're the lord of this manor,” the photographer told Mahiro as he posed him sitting on the back terrace, in front of verdant gardens filled with riots of blooms of every possible color. “Like you live here, you own it, and dammit, you deserve it.”
Mahiro struck what he felt was a haughty pose. He was so used to this by now – directors giving him his motivation. At the beginning of his career, when he was working in horror, he'd be told, “You're completely possessed now. There's nothing left of your original self at all. You're taken over by the demon, and all the demon wants to do is destroy the weak humans.”
Later, once he'd made the transition to porn, the instructions were more like, “You're conflicted. You're still thinking about your boyfriend back home. But you have temptation on legs offering himself to you, and you're still not sure where you stand with the boyfriend, and all you want to do is fuck this man . . .”
When he was performing in horror films, his relationship with the camera was like a child showing off for his friends. Look at how far I can push it, look at how daring I'm willing to be, how much I'm willing to do . . .
The camera was a buddy. An accomplice, a partner in crime when it came to scaring other people senseless.
When his career path shifted, his relationship with the camera shifted as well. It went from friend to lover. It was like the second partner in a scene (or a third, or a fourth). Erotic performance for the camera, whether it was mere sexy still photography or if it was a full-blown sex scene, was an experience like no other.
He could always feel it devouring him, photographing every part of him, putting him on display. It magnified every part of the experience and made it bigger. There was always that feeling that he was making love to the whole world through that camera.
“Okay, Mahiro,” the photographer's voice said. “Sit over there at that table and lean on it, look a bit impatient, like the servants are late with their tea.”
Mahiro obeyed, thinking, this kind of thing really doesn't feel like performing in horror OR porn. There's no sense of fun in it. No danger, no drama. The camera isn't a conspirator here. It isn't acting like a forbidden eye, showing the audience something they're not supposed to be seeing, whether it's sex or blood . . .
Holy crap, Mahiro thought. Maybe that's what's been wrong along along. Maybe that's why I've felt something isn't right with these shoots when I'm trying to shill something. I'm used to me and the camera being an honest partnership. A naughty conspiracy to give people what they want to see. There's nothing at all honest about all this selling – whether it's houses, or clothes, or even lube.
The camera wasn't a friend or lover now. It was just an icy stranger. He couldn't relate to it.
“All right, Mahiro,” the photographer said. “That's it for this room. We're going to the kitchen next. We just need to fetch your boyfriend from the TV room.”
“That's where he is?” Mahiro said.
“Oh, yes. There's a flat-screen TV in there nearly the size of a movie screen.”
Mahiro imagined that once his house party guests heard that, they'd be bringing the Nintendo Switch. There would be Mario Kart tournaments between the orgies. Such was life in the industry.
He headed for the kitchen, pondering his new insights, wondering if Junji was going to find the camera as icy and impersonal in this setting as he did.
* * *
In the kitchen, Mahiro and Junji were instructed to pretend they were cooking dinner together. This amounted to a lot of leaning over the stove, spooning “samples” into each other's mouths, and setting the table.
“If these pictures were of what really what goes on in our kitchen,” Junji said, “they would consist of Mahiro leaning over to get stuff out of the fridge and me smacking his ass.”
“That . . . wouldn't make a very good picture,” Mizuki-san said.
“Mahiro's ass doesn't make a good picture?” Junji said. “To me, it makes a very good picture.”
“Not the kind of picture we're taking here,” the photographer said. “We're selling indulgent living. Not . . . what you usually sell.”
“Videos, you mean?” Junji said.
Products, that's what they're selling, Mahiro thought. This might be pretty pictures in a decorating magazine . . . but there will be a listing somewhere in the article of the manufacturers of the furnishings, and the silverware, and the nice clock in the corner.
And that's why this shoot felt so cold and sterile – even though Junji was in it with him, and they were being playful – well, playful as per the photographer's instructions. The camera was there for corporate purposes. It was a boss in a three-piece suit, not a friend and partner.
When the shoot was over, Mizuki-san packed up his cameras. “Well, that's it,” he said. “You two get to stay here, don't you?”
“Oh, yes,” Mahiro said. “We've already got friends coming over. And don't worry, nobody's going to trash the place. We're not as wild as you might have heard.”
“Yes, we are,” Junji said.
“Well, not in a house-trashing way!” Mahiro said.
“Got you,” the photgrapher said. “We'll be sending you proofs, Mahiro-san. You really are a natural model. You should consider doing this as an alternative to the adult film business.” He waved and left the premises.
When he left, Mahiro shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a long sigh. “Thank God that's over,” he said.
“That was a pretty high compliment he paid you,” Junji said. “Have you ever considered it? Modeling, I mean?”
“No.” Mahiro went over to the couch – crossing the living room (or, more appropriate for a house like this, main sitting room) took twice as long as crossing their whole apartment – and sat down. “I haven't been enjoying these photo sessions at all. The ones I've gotten for mainstream stuff, I mean.”
“Are you feeling like you don't deserve them again? Because . . .”
“No, it's not that. Not at all. It's just that they don't feel right.”
“Why?” Junji said. “Because they're mainstream? I can understand that. You haven't exactly had a mainstream career. First horror, then porn . . .”
“That's part of it,” Mahiro said. “But, well . . . it's kind of hard to explain . . .”
“Try me,” Junji said.
“It's the camera,” Mahiro said. “When we're doing the kind of stuff we normally do? I feel like the camera's a friend. It's like . . . we're having fun doing what we're doing, and the camera is transmitting it to the audience, and they're having fun watching it. But this kind of stuff? All the camera is doing is, well . . . selling something. And I can't feel friendly toward the camera. It's just kind of . . . there.” He paused. “That sounds crazy, doesn't it?”
“No.” Junji sat down next to him. “It doesn't sound crazy at all.”
Mahiro looked at his lover. “It doesn't?”
“Nope.” Junji put an arm around him. “I could tell the difference between that session and the shoots you do to promote your videos. With video shoots, you're a lot more relaxed. With this, you were hitting all the right poses and looking pretty, but you seemed, well . . . out of your element.”
“That's because I WAS out of my element,” Mahiro said. “And the guy said I looked like a natural? He doesn't know what I look like when I'm doing something I WANT to do. Like . . .”
“Getting fucked by a hot guy in front of cameras?”
“I was thinking more of performing,” Mahiro said. “I was just as happy doing horror as I was doing porn.”
“Well, you DO look as good splattered with fake blood as you do splattered with come,” Junji said.
“And it's the idea of performing in something forbidden,” Mahiro said. “Providing the audience with a thrill – whether it's the thrill of seeing something horrifying, or something hot. And the camera is what makes it happen. It . . .” He stopped. “It sounds like I'm kinking on being in front of a camera.”
“Baby, you ARE kinking on being in front of a camera,” Junji said. “And nobody would expect anything else from you. In case you've forgotten, you're a porn star. That's like saying to a soccer player, 'I'm surprised you enjoy kicking a ball around.'” He hugged his lover. “Look, you don't HAVE to do these photoshoots if you don't want to.”
“Yes, I do,” Mahiro said, softly.
“Baby, they're not going to take the Dirty Dozen award away from you if you don't . . .”
“I want the extra money to buy a house,” Mahiro said, quickly.
Junji was caught off-guard by that. “A house?”
“For the four of us,” Mahiro said. “You, me, Subaru and Tomoya. With at least two bedrooms. One with a huge bed for all of us, and another one for . . .”
“Extracurricular fun?” Junji said.
“In case one of us has an overnight guest,” Mahiro said. And that includes you, he thought. I'm going to see to it that you have a side boyfriend of your own.
“Yep,” Junji said. “Extracurricular fun.”
“It's something I want to do,” Mahiro said. “I think . . . it's time. We all want this. And an apartment really isn't big enough for four guys to live in comfortably. So, all this extra money has been going into a house fund. That's kind of worth putting up with this kind of stuff, isn't it?”
“We can ALL contribute to the house fund, you know, love,” Junji said. “All four of us are going to be living there.”
“I haven't told any of them about it yet,” Mahiro said. “You're the first to hear about it.”
“I'm honored,” Junji said. “Though when you tell Subaru, he's going to be thrilled as hell. He's said several times that he wishes we could all live together.”
“I know,” Mahiro said. “That's one of the things that gave me the idea.”
“Why don't we bring it up tomorrow,” Junji said. “Just the four of us sitting around talking about it.” He paused. “We're not going to have time tonight. Things will be a bit busy.”
“The house party.” Mahiro looked at his watch. “We have about two hours before they arrive.”
“Well, that gives us enough time to . . .” Junji suddenly spotted something near the couch. “Uh-oh. Looks like our photographer friend left one of his bags.”
“Really?” Mahiro sat up.
“Oh, yeah.” Junji opened the bag. “There's a really nice camera in it, and a tripod. All kinds of stuff. A remote for it, and different lenses, and . . .” He turned the camera on.
“Maybe you shouldn't be messing with that,” Mahiro said.
“Damn, I'd like to have one of these.” Junji held it to his eye and looked through the viewfinder. “If I could set this up by our bed, and . . .”
A wicked smile came over Junji's face. “What are you thinking?” Mahiro said.
“I'm thinking there's a tripod, and a remote, and we have two hours before the others arrive . . .”
“We can't do that! If they find those kind of pictures on that camera . . .”
“I have my laptop,” Junji said. “I can put the memory card into that, download the pictures and delete them off the card.” He ran his fingers along Mahiro's arm. “Come on . . . you're the one who kinks on being in front of the camera when it's photographing something forbidden, aren't you? How about it? How about you take this cold, unfriendly camera . . . and turn it into something friendly?”
Mahiro sighed. “Why do I have such a hard time saying no to you?”
“Because I love you?” Junji said.
Mahiro leaned over and kissed his lover. Well, that was definitely part of it. “Let's take it up to the master bedroom.”
“I knew you'd see it my way,” Junji said.
* * *
Setting up the camera was easier than Junji thought it would be. He had it on the tripod, pointed at the bed, with the remote working. While he was working on that, Mahiro shed his clothes and ducked under the covers.
“I see what you're doing there,” Junji said, pushing the button to make it zoom in, then zoom out. “You're trying to distract me, and it's not working.”
“Who said I'm trying to do that?” Mahiro said, eying his lover coyly.
“Maybe it's got something to do with you being naked.” Junji said. “And there's only one thing I can do about that, you know.”
“What is that?”
“This!” Junji put the remote down on a bureau and shed his clothes quickly, then hopped onto the bed beside his lover, remote in hand, leaning in for a kiss.
Mahiro kissed him back, hard, pulling Junji closer and pushing his tongue forward quickly. Junji wrapped his arms around Mahiro, pushing the button on the remote to take the first picture. Their mouths explored each other, territory that was familiar becoming exciting nonetheless.
When they eased back, Junji pointed to the camera. “See that?” he said. “I'm controlling it. I'm having it take pictures of you in all your perfection. Do you like that idea? Do you like knowing the camera is recording you?”
“Fuck, yes,” Mahiro moaned.
“Oh, I'll bet you do.” Junji reached down with one hand, running it over Mahiro's body. “You know you're gorgeous, and you know this thing is going to just eat you up.” He clicked the shutter as his fingers wrapped around Mahiro's erection, stroking it slowly.
“You're gorgeous, too,” Mahiro moaned. “I like thinking of the camera capturing you, too . . .”
“You just like being fucked where people can see it.” Junji ran his fingers along the shaft, caressing it. “You like the whole world knowing what you get up to with hot men.”
Mahiro's relationship with the camera was more complex than that, but he sure as hell wasn't correcting Junji. Not when he could hear that shutter clicking, recording their pleasure as Junji leaned over, running his tongue over the tip of Mahiro's erection as his fingers continued to work on the shaft.
“Fuck,” Mahiro moaned. “Oh, fuck . . .”
“You'll get fucked, all right.” Junji ran his tongue slowly around the place where the head joined the shaft. “You'll get as much cock as you want.” He dragged his tongue slowly up the tip. “But first, you want this, don't you?”
He flicked his tongue across the slit at the top, and Mahiro arched forward, crying out and shuddering, and then there was the noise of the camera clicking, and he knew the moment had been preserved. He thought of someone looking at the picture, getting turned on by the sight of Junji pleasuring him, and his reaction . . .
“Suck,” he moaned. “Please, please suck it . . .”
Junji lifted his head, mischievous look in his eyes, and then he shifted so that he was straddling Mahiro's head, leaning over to take his lover's erection in his mouth, leaving his own hardness open to his partner's mouth.
It was an invitation Mahiro was eager to take. He lifted his head, opening his lips and wrapping them around the tip, sucking it and brushing it with his tongue as Junji began to move up and down, the cock sliding through his lips.
The shutter clicked, and clicked again, and Mahiro could only envision the picture that was being captured . . . two men with their bodies intertwined, heads and mouths working hard on pleasuring each other, two hard cocks sliding in and out of two hot, eager pairs of lips.
The thought made a shudder run through his body, just enhancing the sensations of Junji sucking him, moving up and down on him, and the tip of Junji's erection in his own lips, Mahiro sucking it and licking it, coaxing him toward ecstasy . . .
Junji pulled back slowly, letting Mahiro feel every inch of hardness sliding over soft lips, then paused, running his tongue over the tip . . . then pulling his head back, saying, “Now, about me fucking you . . . you still want that?”
Mahiro pulled his mouth away from Junji, reluctantly. “Yes,” he said.
“Then I want you to get on all fours right . . . about . . . here.” Junji pointed to a spot on the bed. “That way, we can get everything on camera. You DO want to have it get everything . . . don't you?”
“Yes,” Mahiro said, getting in the requested position. He leaned over, ass pointed toward his lover.
“Isn't that a sight?” Junji said. “That deserves a picture of its own.” He clicked the shutter – and then handed the remote to Mahiro. “Here. You can control the pictures now. Take all the ones you want. And you want a lot, I know.”
Mahiro looked at it – it took just a moment to find the right button. He put it on the bed and placed his finger over it – just as he felt a lubed finger press against his entrance.
“It helps to travel with a lube bottle in my pocket,” Junji said, sliding his finger in and out, gently. “Oh, yes, baby, you feel so damn good . . .”
Mahiro clicked the shutter, hearing the camera respond, feeling the thrill shoot through his body. His lover's finger slipped in and out of him, the first quickly being joined by a second, then a third, Mahiro leaning back against him, thrusting on the fingers, wanting more . . .
He clicked the camera, thinking of what it was recording, the expression of need on his face, the desire to have his lover fill him . . .
“You're getting what you want,” Junji said, sliding the fingers out and lubing himself quickly. Mahiro felt his lover position himself, and start to push in, and he drew in a breath, the initial pain coming as a shock – like it almost always did.
But then, it faded quickly, and he was flooded with pleasure. He clicked the camera button instinctively, the shutter recording the pure bliss on his face.
Junji slid in more, and more still, pausing for a moment, letting Mahiro get used to it . . . and then, he moved, slowly and gently, then rapidly picking up the pace.
“Yes,” Mahiro murmured, taking another picture, and then another, thinking of how it all looked, the sight of himself on all fours, Junji behind him, the two of them starting to move together, bliss reflected on their faces . . .
Junji was thrusting harder, and faster, and he was reaching under Mahiro's body, finding the nipples and caressing them, and Mahiro was moaning loudly, barely remembering to click the camera . . . but he just had to, he had to capture how their skin was getting more flushed and sweaty, the intense expressions on their faces . . .
“Fuck me harder,” he murmured, and Junji did, just about pounding into his lover, and Mahiro was completely lost in ecstasy now, hips churning, breath coming in groans and pants, his finger trembling as he pushed the button again and again . . .
And then, Junji's fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking rapidly in rhythm to his thrusts. Mahiro cried out, loudly, trembling in ecstasy, coming in long waves. He kept clicking, somehow, letting the camera capture his blissful explosion . . .
He clicked again when Junji joined him in bliss, letting out a loud cry as he thrust into Mahiro hard one last time, shuddering hard, then sagging over on top of the other man. They tumbled to the bed together, in one sweaty, sated heap.
They lay together, holding onto one another tightly, until their breathing and heartbeats slowly returned to normal. Junji raised his head. “That was a BIT more fun than that kitchen scene, wasn't it?”
“Hmmmm.” Mahiro didn't answer yet. He wasn't ready to.
“You were in your element,” Junji said. “REALLY in your element. This is what you really want to do – have FUN with the camera.” He kissed Mahiro. “Soon as I can move again, I'll get these pictures off the camera so we'll have them.”
“Might be a smart thing,” Mahiro murmured. “That guy will be back any moment.”
Junji rolled away from him, slowly and reluctantly, and got wet rags so they could clean up. He reached for his underwear, pulled it back on and dragged out his laptop. “This will only take a few minutes,” he said.
“I'd like to see them,” Mahiro said. He sat up, yawning.
“No yawning,” Junji said. “We've got a long and fun night ahead of us.”
“You wore me out, you know,” Mahiro said. “You tend to do that. I'm going to need a nap and a shower before the party, and I think you need them, too.” He leaned over and draped an arm over Junji's shoulder. The pictures were appearing on the screen, showing the two of them intertwined in passion . . .
This is more beautiful than any of those pictures I've taken with the mainstream photographers, Mahiro thought. This was what was really missing – passion. Not necessarily sexual passion – just a true love of being in front of the camera.
And yet, the non-passion was worth it if it could fulfill a dream that he was really passionate about – a home for his odd, self-made family.
“These pictures won't be going anywhere,” Junji said. “They're just for us to look at.”
“What about Subaru and Tomoya?” Mahiro said.
“Okay, them, too,” Junji said. “But otherwise? Just for you and me.”
“Of course,” Mahiro said. He leaned over to kiss Junji again . . .
And from below, they heard a faint knocking and a voice yelling, “Hellooo? Hello? Are you still in there? I left something in this house . . .”
Junji pulled away from Mahiro. “Guess he realized his mistake,” he said.
“Just in time,” Mahiro said. “Can you imagine if he'd come ten minutes ago?”
“I'll be down in a minute,” Junji called. “I'll go. I'm the closest to dressed between us,” he said, reaching for the rest of his clothes.
“You're only wearing underwear,” Mahiro said.
“I'm still ahead of you, love.” Junji dressed in a hurry, and headed downstairs, camera bag in hand.
Mahiro lay back on the bed, arms raised, staring at the ceiling.
Imagine, he thought, a house like this. Well, maybe not like THIS, we'd never be able to have something this big and fancy, but . . . space for all four of us. A place all our own, not a few rooms in a building owned by someone else.
That idea felt right. Very, very right. And he realized putting up with a bit of feeling wrong, having to bite the bullet for assignments that weren't quite him, was worth it.
Someday, he thought, we'll have a house party that's in our OWN house. And when we do, it'll be the proudest day of my life.
So he had to put up with some things that felt wrong. In the end, they'd end up with something that was oh, so right – for all of them. And that was what mattered most of all.
Chapter: Installment 78 overall in The Camera Eye series. Links to previous installments can be found here.
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Porn industry AU, drama, smut, romance
Warnings: Male/male sex, polyamory, exhibitionism, dirty talk
Pairing: Junji x Mahiro (Kiryu) (main), mentions of Junji x Mahiro x Subaru x Tomoya (Royz) and Jui (Gotcharocka) x Mahiro
Disclaimer: Royz and Kiryu are property of BP Records, Gotcharocka is property of God Child Records, I own the story only.
Summary: Mahiro's surprise selection to a semi-mainstream magazine's porn power list has resulted in a lot of unexpected, lucrative offers for him. So why does he feel like something is wrong every time he steps in front of their cameras?
Notes: For the Pictures/Video square of my Season of Kink card. This story is a followup to an earlier Camera Eye story, One in a Dozen. It can be read as a standalone, but makes more sense if you've read the earlier fic.
When Mahiro had been named to the Dirty Dozen list, he didn't think it would have any long-term repercussions – especially considering that the dishonest reasons behind his selection still left a sour taste in his mouth. Being chosen as the “token gay” in a mainstream soft-porn publisher's annual “most powerful people in adult video” list wasn't exactly his idea of a way to get recognition.
Except recognition came his way – and sometimes, from the strangest of places. There was the “edgy” clothing boutique that wanted him to model some of their more fetish-y outfits for men in their new catalogue. There was the fringe fashion magazine that wanted to photograph him wearing a new line of men's jewelry, and the lube company that wanted him to use their product on-camera – with compensation involved for both Kiryu Video and himself.
The offers baffled him, at first. Why would someone want HIM to endorse their stuff? Especially at the size of the paychecks they were offering him? And they were substantial, indeed. Still, he hemmed and hawed over taking them at first.
His significant other, meanwhile, was thrilled about the opportunities – more thrilled than Mahiro was.
“Take them,” Junji said. “You wouldn't be offered them if they didn't think you were worth it, right?”
“But . . . the reason I was named to the Dirty Dozen . . .”
“They know nothing about that,” Junji said. “Far as they know, it was completely on the level. And, you know, you HAVE set sales records and won JAVAS. It's not like that bastard chose you at random for his look-at-me-I'm-so-politically-correct scheme. Hell, in a way, taking the deals is a middle finger to this guy, because it's you saying, 'I'm so much more than just a token gay.'”
Mahiro was still undecided about the whole thing, though . . . until, one day, he had the calculator app of his phone open, and was adding up all the numbers involved with the offer. When he saw the total, an idea occurred to him. Something he had been thinking of for awhile, keeping on the mental back burner because it was a nice idea, but he didn't think he'd be able to make it come true . . .
This, he thought, could make all the dreams I've been holding back become reality. It's certainly enough money to get things rolling. And if I can make this happen, it'll make me happy. But more importantly, it'll make Junji happy, and Subaru, and Tomoya.
So Mahiro took the deals, and before he knew it, he had entered the world of mainstream modeling. Well, sort-of-mainstream – the subject matter was still racy. You didn't hire a porn star to advertise completely family-friendly fare. But still, he was mostly clothed for the pictures – and the clothes weren't coming off bit-by-bit during the shoot.
He knew he should consider it a new level of his career, something upmarket and glamorous. It should make him feel happy, proud, confident. But instead . . . something was wrong. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was something that just didn't feel right.
“I should be used to cameras by now,” he told Junji. “Lord knows I've had enough sex in front of them. But facing the camera for this kind of shoot . . . it just doesn't feel right, and I don't know why.”
“Look, babe,” Junji said, “I told you not to feel guilty about these deals. You DO deserve them. You HAVE earned them. Just relax and smile at the camera like you always do, okay?”
So he kept smiling, kept posting . . . modeling high-heeled kinky boots and strap-covered “bondage pants.” He kept smiling when the photographers told him he was beautiful. And still, something didn't feel right.
Finally, there came an assignment that gave him an idea of what the problem was.
* * *
It was for another photoshoot, but it was a most unusual one. “The theme is luxurious decadence,” the voice on the other end of the phone told him. “We're having people associated with the indulgent side of life photographed in wealthy surroundings.”
“This is for a fashion layout?” Mahiro said.
“Oh, no – a home decorating layout.”
“Excuse me?” Mahiro said.
“A decorating magazine. We've picked five luxury homes and we're taking pictures of them being inhabited by a stripper, a luxury chef, an heiress, a winemaker . . . and you, the award-winning porn star.”
And I'm probably the token gay again, Mahiro thought. “So I'm just to pose in this home . . . as if you were living there?”
“Exactly. In fact, the owner of the place is going to be completely away for the weekend and he said you could stay overnight there, if you wanted. You can invite some friends over for a house party if you don't mess things up.”
The house party idea did have appeal. Mahiro could have Junji, Subaru and Tomoya stay with them, and invite the Diamond Mine crew. He imagined the result might turn into an orgy, with various twosomes, threesomes and groups testing the springs of every bed – but it certainly wouldn't make a mess of the house.
“As long as the house party is included, I'm in,” he said.
“Fantastic!” said the person on the other end. “And if you have a significant other who wants to be in some of the pictures with you? So much the better! It'll make for some natural-looking domestic scenes.”
“I'll see if he's willing to do it,” Mahiro said. “He's part of our regular cast, so he's used to being on-camera.”
“We'll be in touch with more details, then,” the woman said. “Thank you, Mahiro-san!”
Well, he thought, at least Junji should be agreeable. And the house party idea is a good one. So why do I still feel like something is wrong?
* * *
The house in question was enough to take anyone's breath away. When Mahiro and Junji walked in, they were greeted with the sight of what seemed to be a ballroom, with a tiled floor underneath and a crystal chandelier overhead.
“Wow,” Junji said. “Just WOW. You could fit our whole apartment into this room alone!”
Mahiro glanced around, skeptically. “I don't know,” he said. “It reminds me of the Gilded Gala.”
Junji put an arm around Mahiro's shoulder. “Well, stop thinking like that,” he said. “This is no Gilded Gala. This is going to be a beautiful photoshoot with you at your most gorgeous, and tonight, it's going to be a house party. And nobody's going to be using anyone as a token gay.”
“I think about all that too much,” Mahiro said. “The Gilded Publishing thing, I mean. The fact that I was used . . .”
“Baby, I told you to forget about that,” Junji said. “This is something you earned by yourself, just by being awesome. It's got nothing to do with that, okay?” He hugged Mahiro. “Relax. Our friends are definitely going to thank you later. Jui might have some SPECIAL thanks for you.”
“Only someone in the porn industry would be happy about his boyfriend going off with a side lover,” Mahiro said.
“Hey, it's a sign of how much I love you,” Junji said, leaning over and pressing his head against Mahiro's. “I want you to be happy, and he makes you happy.”
Mahiro just closed his eyes. That was something else that was bothering him lately. Everyone in their little foursome had a regular “outside action” boyfriend – except Junji. Mahiro himself had Jui, Subaru had Toya, Tomoya had Kazi . . . Mahiro had harbored hopes at one point that sparks would fly between Junji and Jun, but then Hitomi had come along and completely swept Jun off his feet.
I want to find someone for Junji, Mahiro thought. I just wonder if there's someone in our group of friends I've overlooked . . .
A loud coughing distracted the two. They raised their heads to see a young man with dyed blond hair and a hip designer suit, cameras hanging around his neck.
“You must be Mahiro-san,” he said. “I'm Mizuki-san, I'm the photographer for this session.” He bowed. “And this is?”
“Tokai Junji,” Mahiro said. “I was told to bring a domestic partner.” He watched the man's face for any reaction to the fact that he'd brought a male.
“Wonderful to meet you, Tokai-san,” the photographer said. “We'll be using you for some shots in the kitchen later. Cooking stuff – we want to create a sense of domesticity.”
“I'd gladly be domestic in a house like this,” Junji said.
“Now, Mahiro-san, if you'd come over here, the stylists can get you ready and we can talk about your first shots . . .”
Mahiro found himself pulled away from Junji and delivered into the hands of stylists and shoot coordinators and Lord only knew what. It was all rather . . . numbing. And it contributed to the feeling that something was wrong.
Why can't I put my finger on it? he thought. Why can't I just relax and enjoy the shoot like Junji wants me to do?
* * *
“Act like you're the lord of this manor,” the photographer told Mahiro as he posed him sitting on the back terrace, in front of verdant gardens filled with riots of blooms of every possible color. “Like you live here, you own it, and dammit, you deserve it.”
Mahiro struck what he felt was a haughty pose. He was so used to this by now – directors giving him his motivation. At the beginning of his career, when he was working in horror, he'd be told, “You're completely possessed now. There's nothing left of your original self at all. You're taken over by the demon, and all the demon wants to do is destroy the weak humans.”
Later, once he'd made the transition to porn, the instructions were more like, “You're conflicted. You're still thinking about your boyfriend back home. But you have temptation on legs offering himself to you, and you're still not sure where you stand with the boyfriend, and all you want to do is fuck this man . . .”
When he was performing in horror films, his relationship with the camera was like a child showing off for his friends. Look at how far I can push it, look at how daring I'm willing to be, how much I'm willing to do . . .
The camera was a buddy. An accomplice, a partner in crime when it came to scaring other people senseless.
When his career path shifted, his relationship with the camera shifted as well. It went from friend to lover. It was like the second partner in a scene (or a third, or a fourth). Erotic performance for the camera, whether it was mere sexy still photography or if it was a full-blown sex scene, was an experience like no other.
He could always feel it devouring him, photographing every part of him, putting him on display. It magnified every part of the experience and made it bigger. There was always that feeling that he was making love to the whole world through that camera.
“Okay, Mahiro,” the photographer's voice said. “Sit over there at that table and lean on it, look a bit impatient, like the servants are late with their tea.”
Mahiro obeyed, thinking, this kind of thing really doesn't feel like performing in horror OR porn. There's no sense of fun in it. No danger, no drama. The camera isn't a conspirator here. It isn't acting like a forbidden eye, showing the audience something they're not supposed to be seeing, whether it's sex or blood . . .
Holy crap, Mahiro thought. Maybe that's what's been wrong along along. Maybe that's why I've felt something isn't right with these shoots when I'm trying to shill something. I'm used to me and the camera being an honest partnership. A naughty conspiracy to give people what they want to see. There's nothing at all honest about all this selling – whether it's houses, or clothes, or even lube.
The camera wasn't a friend or lover now. It was just an icy stranger. He couldn't relate to it.
“All right, Mahiro,” the photographer said. “That's it for this room. We're going to the kitchen next. We just need to fetch your boyfriend from the TV room.”
“That's where he is?” Mahiro said.
“Oh, yes. There's a flat-screen TV in there nearly the size of a movie screen.”
Mahiro imagined that once his house party guests heard that, they'd be bringing the Nintendo Switch. There would be Mario Kart tournaments between the orgies. Such was life in the industry.
He headed for the kitchen, pondering his new insights, wondering if Junji was going to find the camera as icy and impersonal in this setting as he did.
* * *
In the kitchen, Mahiro and Junji were instructed to pretend they were cooking dinner together. This amounted to a lot of leaning over the stove, spooning “samples” into each other's mouths, and setting the table.
“If these pictures were of what really what goes on in our kitchen,” Junji said, “they would consist of Mahiro leaning over to get stuff out of the fridge and me smacking his ass.”
“That . . . wouldn't make a very good picture,” Mizuki-san said.
“Mahiro's ass doesn't make a good picture?” Junji said. “To me, it makes a very good picture.”
“Not the kind of picture we're taking here,” the photographer said. “We're selling indulgent living. Not . . . what you usually sell.”
“Videos, you mean?” Junji said.
Products, that's what they're selling, Mahiro thought. This might be pretty pictures in a decorating magazine . . . but there will be a listing somewhere in the article of the manufacturers of the furnishings, and the silverware, and the nice clock in the corner.
And that's why this shoot felt so cold and sterile – even though Junji was in it with him, and they were being playful – well, playful as per the photographer's instructions. The camera was there for corporate purposes. It was a boss in a three-piece suit, not a friend and partner.
When the shoot was over, Mizuki-san packed up his cameras. “Well, that's it,” he said. “You two get to stay here, don't you?”
“Oh, yes,” Mahiro said. “We've already got friends coming over. And don't worry, nobody's going to trash the place. We're not as wild as you might have heard.”
“Yes, we are,” Junji said.
“Well, not in a house-trashing way!” Mahiro said.
“Got you,” the photgrapher said. “We'll be sending you proofs, Mahiro-san. You really are a natural model. You should consider doing this as an alternative to the adult film business.” He waved and left the premises.
When he left, Mahiro shut the door and leaned against it, letting out a long sigh. “Thank God that's over,” he said.
“That was a pretty high compliment he paid you,” Junji said. “Have you ever considered it? Modeling, I mean?”
“No.” Mahiro went over to the couch – crossing the living room (or, more appropriate for a house like this, main sitting room) took twice as long as crossing their whole apartment – and sat down. “I haven't been enjoying these photo sessions at all. The ones I've gotten for mainstream stuff, I mean.”
“Are you feeling like you don't deserve them again? Because . . .”
“No, it's not that. Not at all. It's just that they don't feel right.”
“Why?” Junji said. “Because they're mainstream? I can understand that. You haven't exactly had a mainstream career. First horror, then porn . . .”
“That's part of it,” Mahiro said. “But, well . . . it's kind of hard to explain . . .”
“Try me,” Junji said.
“It's the camera,” Mahiro said. “When we're doing the kind of stuff we normally do? I feel like the camera's a friend. It's like . . . we're having fun doing what we're doing, and the camera is transmitting it to the audience, and they're having fun watching it. But this kind of stuff? All the camera is doing is, well . . . selling something. And I can't feel friendly toward the camera. It's just kind of . . . there.” He paused. “That sounds crazy, doesn't it?”
“No.” Junji sat down next to him. “It doesn't sound crazy at all.”
Mahiro looked at his lover. “It doesn't?”
“Nope.” Junji put an arm around him. “I could tell the difference between that session and the shoots you do to promote your videos. With video shoots, you're a lot more relaxed. With this, you were hitting all the right poses and looking pretty, but you seemed, well . . . out of your element.”
“That's because I WAS out of my element,” Mahiro said. “And the guy said I looked like a natural? He doesn't know what I look like when I'm doing something I WANT to do. Like . . .”
“Getting fucked by a hot guy in front of cameras?”
“I was thinking more of performing,” Mahiro said. “I was just as happy doing horror as I was doing porn.”
“Well, you DO look as good splattered with fake blood as you do splattered with come,” Junji said.
“And it's the idea of performing in something forbidden,” Mahiro said. “Providing the audience with a thrill – whether it's the thrill of seeing something horrifying, or something hot. And the camera is what makes it happen. It . . .” He stopped. “It sounds like I'm kinking on being in front of a camera.”
“Baby, you ARE kinking on being in front of a camera,” Junji said. “And nobody would expect anything else from you. In case you've forgotten, you're a porn star. That's like saying to a soccer player, 'I'm surprised you enjoy kicking a ball around.'” He hugged his lover. “Look, you don't HAVE to do these photoshoots if you don't want to.”
“Yes, I do,” Mahiro said, softly.
“Baby, they're not going to take the Dirty Dozen award away from you if you don't . . .”
“I want the extra money to buy a house,” Mahiro said, quickly.
Junji was caught off-guard by that. “A house?”
“For the four of us,” Mahiro said. “You, me, Subaru and Tomoya. With at least two bedrooms. One with a huge bed for all of us, and another one for . . .”
“Extracurricular fun?” Junji said.
“In case one of us has an overnight guest,” Mahiro said. And that includes you, he thought. I'm going to see to it that you have a side boyfriend of your own.
“Yep,” Junji said. “Extracurricular fun.”
“It's something I want to do,” Mahiro said. “I think . . . it's time. We all want this. And an apartment really isn't big enough for four guys to live in comfortably. So, all this extra money has been going into a house fund. That's kind of worth putting up with this kind of stuff, isn't it?”
“We can ALL contribute to the house fund, you know, love,” Junji said. “All four of us are going to be living there.”
“I haven't told any of them about it yet,” Mahiro said. “You're the first to hear about it.”
“I'm honored,” Junji said. “Though when you tell Subaru, he's going to be thrilled as hell. He's said several times that he wishes we could all live together.”
“I know,” Mahiro said. “That's one of the things that gave me the idea.”
“Why don't we bring it up tomorrow,” Junji said. “Just the four of us sitting around talking about it.” He paused. “We're not going to have time tonight. Things will be a bit busy.”
“The house party.” Mahiro looked at his watch. “We have about two hours before they arrive.”
“Well, that gives us enough time to . . .” Junji suddenly spotted something near the couch. “Uh-oh. Looks like our photographer friend left one of his bags.”
“Really?” Mahiro sat up.
“Oh, yeah.” Junji opened the bag. “There's a really nice camera in it, and a tripod. All kinds of stuff. A remote for it, and different lenses, and . . .” He turned the camera on.
“Maybe you shouldn't be messing with that,” Mahiro said.
“Damn, I'd like to have one of these.” Junji held it to his eye and looked through the viewfinder. “If I could set this up by our bed, and . . .”
A wicked smile came over Junji's face. “What are you thinking?” Mahiro said.
“I'm thinking there's a tripod, and a remote, and we have two hours before the others arrive . . .”
“We can't do that! If they find those kind of pictures on that camera . . .”
“I have my laptop,” Junji said. “I can put the memory card into that, download the pictures and delete them off the card.” He ran his fingers along Mahiro's arm. “Come on . . . you're the one who kinks on being in front of the camera when it's photographing something forbidden, aren't you? How about it? How about you take this cold, unfriendly camera . . . and turn it into something friendly?”
Mahiro sighed. “Why do I have such a hard time saying no to you?”
“Because I love you?” Junji said.
Mahiro leaned over and kissed his lover. Well, that was definitely part of it. “Let's take it up to the master bedroom.”
“I knew you'd see it my way,” Junji said.
* * *
Setting up the camera was easier than Junji thought it would be. He had it on the tripod, pointed at the bed, with the remote working. While he was working on that, Mahiro shed his clothes and ducked under the covers.
“I see what you're doing there,” Junji said, pushing the button to make it zoom in, then zoom out. “You're trying to distract me, and it's not working.”
“Who said I'm trying to do that?” Mahiro said, eying his lover coyly.
“Maybe it's got something to do with you being naked.” Junji said. “And there's only one thing I can do about that, you know.”
“What is that?”
“This!” Junji put the remote down on a bureau and shed his clothes quickly, then hopped onto the bed beside his lover, remote in hand, leaning in for a kiss.
Mahiro kissed him back, hard, pulling Junji closer and pushing his tongue forward quickly. Junji wrapped his arms around Mahiro, pushing the button on the remote to take the first picture. Their mouths explored each other, territory that was familiar becoming exciting nonetheless.
When they eased back, Junji pointed to the camera. “See that?” he said. “I'm controlling it. I'm having it take pictures of you in all your perfection. Do you like that idea? Do you like knowing the camera is recording you?”
“Fuck, yes,” Mahiro moaned.
“Oh, I'll bet you do.” Junji reached down with one hand, running it over Mahiro's body. “You know you're gorgeous, and you know this thing is going to just eat you up.” He clicked the shutter as his fingers wrapped around Mahiro's erection, stroking it slowly.
“You're gorgeous, too,” Mahiro moaned. “I like thinking of the camera capturing you, too . . .”
“You just like being fucked where people can see it.” Junji ran his fingers along the shaft, caressing it. “You like the whole world knowing what you get up to with hot men.”
Mahiro's relationship with the camera was more complex than that, but he sure as hell wasn't correcting Junji. Not when he could hear that shutter clicking, recording their pleasure as Junji leaned over, running his tongue over the tip of Mahiro's erection as his fingers continued to work on the shaft.
“Fuck,” Mahiro moaned. “Oh, fuck . . .”
“You'll get fucked, all right.” Junji ran his tongue slowly around the place where the head joined the shaft. “You'll get as much cock as you want.” He dragged his tongue slowly up the tip. “But first, you want this, don't you?”
He flicked his tongue across the slit at the top, and Mahiro arched forward, crying out and shuddering, and then there was the noise of the camera clicking, and he knew the moment had been preserved. He thought of someone looking at the picture, getting turned on by the sight of Junji pleasuring him, and his reaction . . .
“Suck,” he moaned. “Please, please suck it . . .”
Junji lifted his head, mischievous look in his eyes, and then he shifted so that he was straddling Mahiro's head, leaning over to take his lover's erection in his mouth, leaving his own hardness open to his partner's mouth.
It was an invitation Mahiro was eager to take. He lifted his head, opening his lips and wrapping them around the tip, sucking it and brushing it with his tongue as Junji began to move up and down, the cock sliding through his lips.
The shutter clicked, and clicked again, and Mahiro could only envision the picture that was being captured . . . two men with their bodies intertwined, heads and mouths working hard on pleasuring each other, two hard cocks sliding in and out of two hot, eager pairs of lips.
The thought made a shudder run through his body, just enhancing the sensations of Junji sucking him, moving up and down on him, and the tip of Junji's erection in his own lips, Mahiro sucking it and licking it, coaxing him toward ecstasy . . .
Junji pulled back slowly, letting Mahiro feel every inch of hardness sliding over soft lips, then paused, running his tongue over the tip . . . then pulling his head back, saying, “Now, about me fucking you . . . you still want that?”
Mahiro pulled his mouth away from Junji, reluctantly. “Yes,” he said.
“Then I want you to get on all fours right . . . about . . . here.” Junji pointed to a spot on the bed. “That way, we can get everything on camera. You DO want to have it get everything . . . don't you?”
“Yes,” Mahiro said, getting in the requested position. He leaned over, ass pointed toward his lover.
“Isn't that a sight?” Junji said. “That deserves a picture of its own.” He clicked the shutter – and then handed the remote to Mahiro. “Here. You can control the pictures now. Take all the ones you want. And you want a lot, I know.”
Mahiro looked at it – it took just a moment to find the right button. He put it on the bed and placed his finger over it – just as he felt a lubed finger press against his entrance.
“It helps to travel with a lube bottle in my pocket,” Junji said, sliding his finger in and out, gently. “Oh, yes, baby, you feel so damn good . . .”
Mahiro clicked the shutter, hearing the camera respond, feeling the thrill shoot through his body. His lover's finger slipped in and out of him, the first quickly being joined by a second, then a third, Mahiro leaning back against him, thrusting on the fingers, wanting more . . .
He clicked the camera, thinking of what it was recording, the expression of need on his face, the desire to have his lover fill him . . .
“You're getting what you want,” Junji said, sliding the fingers out and lubing himself quickly. Mahiro felt his lover position himself, and start to push in, and he drew in a breath, the initial pain coming as a shock – like it almost always did.
But then, it faded quickly, and he was flooded with pleasure. He clicked the camera button instinctively, the shutter recording the pure bliss on his face.
Junji slid in more, and more still, pausing for a moment, letting Mahiro get used to it . . . and then, he moved, slowly and gently, then rapidly picking up the pace.
“Yes,” Mahiro murmured, taking another picture, and then another, thinking of how it all looked, the sight of himself on all fours, Junji behind him, the two of them starting to move together, bliss reflected on their faces . . .
Junji was thrusting harder, and faster, and he was reaching under Mahiro's body, finding the nipples and caressing them, and Mahiro was moaning loudly, barely remembering to click the camera . . . but he just had to, he had to capture how their skin was getting more flushed and sweaty, the intense expressions on their faces . . .
“Fuck me harder,” he murmured, and Junji did, just about pounding into his lover, and Mahiro was completely lost in ecstasy now, hips churning, breath coming in groans and pants, his finger trembling as he pushed the button again and again . . .
And then, Junji's fingers wrapped around his shaft, stroking rapidly in rhythm to his thrusts. Mahiro cried out, loudly, trembling in ecstasy, coming in long waves. He kept clicking, somehow, letting the camera capture his blissful explosion . . .
He clicked again when Junji joined him in bliss, letting out a loud cry as he thrust into Mahiro hard one last time, shuddering hard, then sagging over on top of the other man. They tumbled to the bed together, in one sweaty, sated heap.
They lay together, holding onto one another tightly, until their breathing and heartbeats slowly returned to normal. Junji raised his head. “That was a BIT more fun than that kitchen scene, wasn't it?”
“Hmmmm.” Mahiro didn't answer yet. He wasn't ready to.
“You were in your element,” Junji said. “REALLY in your element. This is what you really want to do – have FUN with the camera.” He kissed Mahiro. “Soon as I can move again, I'll get these pictures off the camera so we'll have them.”
“Might be a smart thing,” Mahiro murmured. “That guy will be back any moment.”
Junji rolled away from him, slowly and reluctantly, and got wet rags so they could clean up. He reached for his underwear, pulled it back on and dragged out his laptop. “This will only take a few minutes,” he said.
“I'd like to see them,” Mahiro said. He sat up, yawning.
“No yawning,” Junji said. “We've got a long and fun night ahead of us.”
“You wore me out, you know,” Mahiro said. “You tend to do that. I'm going to need a nap and a shower before the party, and I think you need them, too.” He leaned over and draped an arm over Junji's shoulder. The pictures were appearing on the screen, showing the two of them intertwined in passion . . .
This is more beautiful than any of those pictures I've taken with the mainstream photographers, Mahiro thought. This was what was really missing – passion. Not necessarily sexual passion – just a true love of being in front of the camera.
And yet, the non-passion was worth it if it could fulfill a dream that he was really passionate about – a home for his odd, self-made family.
“These pictures won't be going anywhere,” Junji said. “They're just for us to look at.”
“What about Subaru and Tomoya?” Mahiro said.
“Okay, them, too,” Junji said. “But otherwise? Just for you and me.”
“Of course,” Mahiro said. He leaned over to kiss Junji again . . .
And from below, they heard a faint knocking and a voice yelling, “Hellooo? Hello? Are you still in there? I left something in this house . . .”
Junji pulled away from Mahiro. “Guess he realized his mistake,” he said.
“Just in time,” Mahiro said. “Can you imagine if he'd come ten minutes ago?”
“I'll be down in a minute,” Junji called. “I'll go. I'm the closest to dressed between us,” he said, reaching for the rest of his clothes.
“You're only wearing underwear,” Mahiro said.
“I'm still ahead of you, love.” Junji dressed in a hurry, and headed downstairs, camera bag in hand.
Mahiro lay back on the bed, arms raised, staring at the ceiling.
Imagine, he thought, a house like this. Well, maybe not like THIS, we'd never be able to have something this big and fancy, but . . . space for all four of us. A place all our own, not a few rooms in a building owned by someone else.
That idea felt right. Very, very right. And he realized putting up with a bit of feeling wrong, having to bite the bullet for assignments that weren't quite him, was worth it.
Someday, he thought, we'll have a house party that's in our OWN house. And when we do, it'll be the proudest day of my life.
So he had to put up with some things that felt wrong. In the end, they'd end up with something that was oh, so right – for all of them. And that was what mattered most of all.
no subject
Date: 2017-09-02 03:07 am (UTC)(Love the hints at finding Juju his own side action. I'm very curious to find out who it will be!)
no subject
Date: 2017-09-02 08:36 pm (UTC)He's spoilt, isn't he?