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Shane stared at himself in the mirror the way he always did before work. It helped him get pumped up, looking over each carefully toned part of himself and thinking about all the hard work he had put in just to look like that for his fans. He would sit there, imagining how each muscle would flex and move on camera, testing out movements just to see how his body reacted when he did them, waiting for the knock on the door that told him it was go time.
Maybe his best friend was right. This job was giving him one hell of an ego problem.
There was a soft tapping on his door, followed by a quiet female voice.
“Mr. Walsh.”
“Don't know a Mr. Walsh,” Shane said back.
He heard the PA sigh.
“Mr. Steele.” She said it like a parent who was too exhausted to take the time to argue with their spoiled child. Shane got up and opened the door, beaming at her.
“Just messin with ya, Amy.” he said. “So, what's on the menu today.”
“Fresh meat.”
Shane's eyebrow shot up at that.
“Studio fresh or industry fresh?”
“First time on camera,” she said, glancing down at her clipboard. “Derrick Darling. Real name is Daryl Dixon, and he's nervous as all hell. Shaking like a leaf last time I saw him.”
She stopped in front of one of the non-permanent dressing rooms, and Shane looked at the little dry erase placard that read, “Derrick Darling” in messy blue ink.
“How long we got?” he asked.
“Five,” she said, checking her watch.
“I'll get him warmed up.”
“Save the good shit for the camera,” she said, heading off down the hall, walkie-talkie in her hand.
Shane turned around and knocked.
Daryl sat there in a gray terry cloth robe, staring at his face in the mirror. What the fuck was he thinking? Why would anyone wanna pay to watch a face like that get fucked, let alone the rest of him?
The knock on his dressing room door made him jump about a foot out of his chair. Shit, did that mean it was time? Shit. Oh god.
He took a deep breath and opened the door, expecting to see the little blonde PA who had shown him to his room in the first place. But instead, he found himself face to face with what had to be the walking equivalent of a Greek statue, clad in nothing but classic white briefs that bulged noticeably in the center.
He was tan, chiseled from head to toe, and if Daryl had a spoon to drag across those abs, well, he could've started a damn bluegrass band.
“You must be Daryl,” he said, in a rough southern drawl. “I'm Shane Walsh, but around here people call me Johnny Steele.”
“Oh,” Daryl said, feeling like an idiot as soon as the syllable left his mouth. Johnny Steele. One of the biggest names in gay porn... and his scene partner for today.
It took a little longer for his brain to play connect-the-dots with all that info, and then his eyes went wide and he took a step back without even meaning to.
This. He was going to be fucking this.
His breath caught in his throat in a quiet little whimper, and he tried to cough to cover it up. Maybe Shane or Johnny—what was the protocol on names around here anyway—would think it was just a hiccup.
“Yeah, Amy told me you were a nervous little thing,” Shane said, standing there smirking at him. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his head, and Daryl watched the way his upper arm flexed when he did it.
God, he knew the information about the scene today word-for-word. They wanted at least ten minutes of material out of it, and that was with editing. How the fuck was he supposed to last five with that on top of him?
“A little,” Daryl said finally.
“Ain't my first first timer,” Shane said, “And believe me, the people who wanna watch a new porn star get broken in eat that nervous shit up.” He stepped forward, gently touching Daryl's chin, rubbing over it once with his thumb. “Look at you... standing there trembling.”
Daryl tried to will his body to be still, but it wouldn't, especially when Shane leaned in real close, lips practically against his ear.
“You can't even fathom how many men are going to touch themselves thinkin about you shakin like that.”
Daryl kept himself from making anymore accidental noises, but he was sure of one thing... Getting it up for the scene wasn't going to be a problem. Having that rock hard specimen of a man whispering in his ear would probably be enough to keep him hard for the rest of his damn life.
Which didn't seem like that long at that point, if Shane kept going like that.
“C'mon,” Shane said, gently grabbing his hand and leading him from his dressing room and down the hall. Daryl followed him past other doors with quickly scrawled names on them, and then past different stages. He felt a little pang of something like regret in his belly when they walked straight past a locker room set, but he kept his feet moving, following Shane toward whatever awaited them.
Their scene turned out to be a simple set in a bedroom. A freshly made bed with a fluffy white comforter sat in the middle of the room with night stands on either side.
“Doing alright?” Amy asked, walking over and putting a bottle of lube on top of one of bedside tables. Daryl forced his head to move in some sort of way that resembled a nod.
“Good,” she said, looking down at her clipboard. “Alright. They want anal fingering, hand job, oral, and anal penetration, obviously.” She looked at both of them as she spoke, but Daryl got the feeling she was talking to Shane more than she was talking to him.
“I do love a four course meal,” Shane said.
“Well, here comes the chef,” she said, nodding toward the group approaching the stage from the opposite hall. There were only four of them, but one had a camera, and the other had a boom mic.
“Man there in the red shirt talking to the cameraman is Dean. Brilliant director,” Shane said. “Well, brilliant as far as making movies of people fucking goes.”
“You two ready?” Dean asked.
“Two seconds, boss.” Shane reached forward and untied Daryl's robe, pulling it off of him and tossing it off the stage where Amy picked it up and folded it over a chair.
Daryl started shaking again, watching Shane's eyes move over him, taking his whole body in inch by inch.
He watched, breath catching, as the other man reached a hand down into his briefs, still looking him over as he stroked his cock slowly, getting it as hard as he could for the scene.
Daryl swallowed.
“Alright,” Shane said. “I'm ready. Don't think this one needs any help.” He looked down at the outline in Daryl's boxer briefs and the little wet spot that had formed at the tip of Daryl's cock, his mouth turning up into a smirk. Daryl felt his cheeks get a little warmer.
“Start it off slow, Johnny. Kissing. Some dirty talk.”
Shane nodded.
“Alright, action,” Dean said, and suddenly there was a boom mic next to them and oh fuck...
“Wait, shit...” Daryl said, panicking a little and trying to turn away.
Shane held up his hand and made a little “keep going” motion.
“Hey now.” He reached out and put his hands on Daryl's upper arms, rubbing them up and down. “Easy.”
“Sorry, I...”
“Shhh,” Shane pulled him closer and pressed their lips together, and Daryl melted. The other man's mouth moved languidly, like liquid silk. Their tongues met a little further out of their mouths than they would have normally, but Daryl guessed that probably made it better for the camera.
Stop fucking thinking about the damn camera, Dixon, or you're gonna go nuts.
He felt Shane's hands sliding down his back and over the fabric of his underwear, both of them cupping his ass and kneading it gently while the two of them kissed.
“What's your name?” Shane asked, and it took Daryl just a second to realize that he wasn't asking because he forgot.
“Derrick. Derrick Darling.”
“Gotta nice ass, Derrick Darling.” Shane squeezed it again, a little more rough this time, and Daryl groaned quietly at just how much he wanted him to do more.
“You got a nice everything,” Daryl said back, and Shane laughed softly.
“This your first time doing this?” Shane asked, and Daryl was slowly starting to recognize the standard first time questions that came at the beginning of a porn like this.
“Mhm.”
“You nervous?”
“Can't stop shaking,” Daryl said. He tried to remember that he was acting, tried to think about what he liked when he was at home with his dick in his hand and his laptop perched on his chest. “But I... want to do this. Want you.”
Shane quirked up an eyebrow.
“That right?” he asked, and Daryl nodded. “How you want me?”
“Want your cock...” Daryl swallowed, his breath shaking because he was. “Want your cock in my mouth.”
Shane mm'd quietly.
“Damn pretty mouth too,” he said, running his finger across Daryl's bottom lip before kissing him again, gently walking him back toward the bed. “What else you want?”
“Wa- want it in my ass.”
And damn, he wasn't even lying.
Shane leaned around to the side to suck on Daryl's neck, pausing for a second to whisper, “you're doing great,” before licking at the skin below his ear, sending a pretty damn authentic shiver right down Daryl's spine.
He made himself mm a little louder than he would have normally, and Shane rewarded him by shoving him face-first onto the bed.
“Get on your hands and knees for me, baby, and let me see that fantastic ass of yours.”
Daryl did as he was told, looking back at Shane over his shoulder. He found the experienced porn star stroking himself inside of his underwear again, and if it was making him that hot, he couldn't imagine what it would do for people who actually watched this damn thing.
“See something you like, Derrick?” Shane asked, letting his cock peek out of his underwear just a little.
“See lots of things I like.”
Shane smiled and crawled onto the bed, maneuvering Daryl forward a little so he could kneel behind him, and so everything he was about to do was visible to the cameraman.
“Bet you like fingers in your asshole, huh?” Shane asked, and Daryl groaned long and low at the suggestion without a second thought. Shane gently rolled Daryl's boxer briefs over his hips and down his thighs, and he shivered a little at the cool rush of air on his no-longer-private parts.
Daryl looked back over his shoulder again to find Shane on his knees behind him, spreading a generous amount of lube on his thick fingers.
He had prepped himself a little before the shoot, instructed to by the PA and the paperwork containing details about filming. Because of this, Shane was easily able to slide in a finger without much resistance. One of those little porn tricks—making it look so easy when really it had taken a good half hour of Daryl opening himself up in his dressing room.
“Mm,” Shane said, already starting to fuck him slowly with his middle digit. “Fucking tight little ass you've got there, baby.”
Daryl moaned, pushing back against Shane's hand, enjoying the way even just that single finger stretched him. Shane had such big hands.
Wasn't the only thing big about him either.
Then again, you didn't really become a gay porn star with a shelf full of Grabby and GayVN awards with small dick.
“I ain't giving you more until you beg for it,” Shane said. And Daryl could almost feel the collective cock-twitching of the men who would be watching this in a few weeks' time.
He'd been so nervous, was still fucking nervous, but he felt a little thrill of excitement at that too.
“More,” Daryl said.
“I think you can do better than that.” Shane made a big show of twisting his arm and changing the angle of his finger, and Daryl realized what was coming about a second before it did, leaving him enough time to know, but not near enough time to mentally prepare... And when Shane brushed over his prostate, applying just a little pressure, he moaned like a cheap whore.
“More, please. Fucking want more.” Daryl pushed back onto Shane's hand harder. “Please.”
“That's better.” Shane added another finger, working them in together and then pulling them out apart, stretching Daryl open. Daryl couldn't help but wonder what it looked like. People were going to be watching his asshole get spread open like that all up close and personal. His cock ached at the thought.
And here he thought he'd started doing porn for the money.
Shane worked him over for a little while more, making his body go absolutely crazy with lust, and then he stopped, pulling his fingers free from Daryl's body.
Daryl looked back behind him, hoping to see the Shane sliding out of his briefs, but instead he found large hands on his shoulders, yanking him up. Shane pulled him up onto his knees, tugging at him until his back was flush with Shane's muscular chest.
Daryl was fully exposed to the camera now. His chest and stomach and cock and thighs were all on display for the world to see. He looked a little off to the side, always hating it when people in the porn he watched stared at the camera the whole time, like they were just working instead of enjoying being fucked.
Shane pressed his lips to Daryl's neck, kissing and licking at the skin there, and Daryl moved into the sensation, letting his head roll the side a little, eyelids fluttering.
“Love your body,” Shane said, rough in his ear. “Those shoulders and that broad chest.” For emphasis, he put his hands right above Daryl's nipples, running them down his skin as he talked. “That soft but toned stomach.” And Daryl was shaking again, this time for reasons entirely separate from nerves.
“Hip bones.” He ghosted his fingertips over both of them. “That nice, thick cock.” Shane wrapped his right hand firmly around Daryl, letting the other one wander all over his body again. He put his mouth back to work on Daryl's neck and that crook between it and his shoulder, and fuck Daryl was going to fall to pieces before they'd even got to the big show.
Like he could read his mind, Shane let go of his cock, bringing both hands back of his body and finding his nipples with his fingertips, squeezing and twisting. And it hurt, but it was such a damn fucking good hurt that he never would've dreamed of telling Shane to stop.
Daryl cried out softly, a little “ah” noise, and he heard Shane laugh, low and sexy in his ear, before raking his nails across those two little sensitive nubs on his chest.
“Fuck me,” Daryl said, his tone pleading.
“Don't think you've quite earned that yet,” Shane said. “But you will.”
He grabbed Daryl again with two firm hands, and put him where he wanted him. Daryl wasn't used to be handled like that, not even by the more dominant men he'd fucked. Even the ones who would tie him up and torture him with foreplay for hours on end had always told him how and where to move. But Shane threw him around like he was light as a hummingbird, like he was his.
And Daryl had no idea where Shane was going with him either, at least not until he found himself face to face with Shane's cotton-clad erection.
Right. Blow job. That was on the agenda for the shoot, now that he thought about it.
He worked his lips over the clearly defined outline of Shane's cock, mouthing it through the thin fabric of his briefs. All he could think about was how this was going to get him fucked, and damn was he eager for that now.
“There you go, baby. Just like that.”
Daryl grabbed the sides of Shane's briefs and tugged them down, exposing the tip and then the rest of him, admiring the way his cock curved ever-so-slightly in the middle.
Daryl had never been able to explain why, but where other people viewed blow job as a duty or a chore, he fucking loved them. Maybe it was the way he could make a man lose control with just one flick of his tongue. Maybe it was just that he was damn good at them, and he had never been good at much, not something people valued as much as having their dick sucked anyway.
Flicking his eyes up toward Shane's, he wrapped his mouth around the head of his cock, rolling his tongue against the sensitive spot under the slit.
Shane groaned immediately, head falling back, a fist finding its way into Daryl's hair.
Daryl took the opportunity to moan around him, humming quietly and knowing full well what the vibration of his lips would feel like.
“Fuck,” Shane sighed. “You are so damn good at that.”
Daryl's chest swelled with pride, and he tipped his head forward, taking Shane deeper and deeper into his mouth. He focused on relaxing the back of his throat, allowing the other man's cock as far in as it could physically go.
“Oh, hell yes,” Shane said before moaning softly when Daryl started working his lips all the way back up, twisting his head a little as he did, “Fucking take that shit all the way in.”
So Daryl did, once again going as far down as he could, stopping only when he could feel the tip of Shane's erection butting against the back of his throat.
Cocksucking Champion of the Fucking World.
He kept that up a little longer, making each up and down motion agonizingly long and teasing, and right when he was sure Shane was about ready to grab his head and take matters into his own hands, Daryl quickened his pace, bobbing up and down the length, hollowing out his cheeks. Every now and then, he would pull off and give the head of Shane's cock a few little kitten licks, swirling his tongue around the tip before taking him all the way back into his mouth once more.
“Oh, you're gonna fucking get it,” Shane said. And then, with a little groan like he really really didn't want to, he tugged on Daryl's hair, pulling him away and forcing him to stop.
“Come here.” Shane grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled his face to his, violently assaulting his mouth with his tongue. There was so much need and lust in the way he ground his lips into Daryl's that he just couldn't help but moan into the kiss, lips vibrating against the other man's.
“Yeah. You fucking want me, don't you?”
Daryl nodded so hard that he almost gave himself whiplash.
“On your stomach,” Shane said, but before Daryl could even react, Shane was already forcing his face into the bedding, grabbing him around the waist to pull his lower half up into the air.
“God, look at that ass.” Shane had both fingers back inside of him in no time, fucking him with them and stretching them open, making Daryl moan and tremble all over again.
“Please fuck me,” Daryl said, the words half-muffled by the comforter.
“Turn that pretty little face where I can see it and say that again,” Shane said, so Daryl did, turning it to the side so only one cheek was smashed against the bedding.
“Please fucking do it.”
“That's what I like to hear.” Shane pulled his fingers out, leaving Daryl bereft for a moment, and then he slid himself inside with his hands firmly on Daryl's hips.
Oh fuck.
“Oh fuck.”
Oh. Fuck.
“Yeah?” Shane asked. “That cock feels fucking good, huh?”
“Mhm.” Daryl already had one hand gripping the comforter like his life depended on it. Behind him, Shane pulled all the way out, and the angle he had Daryl's body at—face down, weight resting on his elbows, ass in the air—well, it was really fucking working for the more inexperienced man, and as Shane thrust back in, Daryl moaned loud and long, a sustained note in some dirty little symphony they were making up as they went along.
“Ass was fucking made to take cock.” Shane gradually picked up speed, rolling his body into Daryl's, faster and faster until Daryl could hear him behind him, grunting in effort with each movement. He looked up at him, eyes aching a little with the strain of being forced that far to the side. But the ache was worth it, because Shane looked like a fucking Norse god back there pounding into him, all flexing muscles and hard, manly features.
“Fuck,” Daryl pulled a little of the comforter into his mouth, biting down on the fabric. Because it was so damn good. So fucking damn good, and he could hardly even stand the way Shane's cock was brushing against his prostate every single goddamn time.
Daryl lost himself in space and time, focused on nothing but how it felt to have Shane pumping into him, no longer caring about the cameras or anything but the feeling of Shane stretching him open, each movement sending him hurtling toward earth-shattering completion.
And he was close. So damn close. And he probably could have came without even needing any attention on his cock at all as long as Shane kept fucking moving like that.
“Alright, stop,” Dean said. And Daryl's eyes went flying open. No. No no no. Please not yet. “Got more than enough material here. Go ahead and give us a money shot, Johnny.”
Shane stopped moving, and Daryl had to bite down on the comforter again to stop the low whine that threatened to come out of his throat. Goddamn't. He had been so fucking close.
“Where you want it?” Shane asked, all business again.
“Let's get a shot of you pulling out of him. Then jerk it onto his ass.”
“Sounds good to me, boss.”
Yeah, fucking easy for you to say, asshole. You actually get to cum.
“And action,” Dean said. Shane gave Daryl a couple more pumps, just enough to push him right up against the edge again, and then he pulled out. Daryl groaned with the feeling of emptiness.
Behind him, he could Shane grunting and the sound of him jerking himself off. The pace he set was furious, driving himself toward the end with no mercy. And all Daryl could think then was that he couldn't wait for it to be over so he could get back his dressing room and do something about his achy, leaking cock.
It wasn't long before Shane let out a loud groan, and Daryl felt the warm wetness of cum streaking his ass. It would have turned him on under any other circumstances, but now he was just fucking frustrated. He forced himself to moan anyway. After all, he was fucking working.
Shane ran a finger through the moisture now painting Daryl's cheeks and then he leaned forward, rubbing it on Daryl's lips and forcing him to suck it off.
“How'd you like your first time, Mr. Derrick Darling?” Shane asked, and Daryl glanced up at him, forcing a little sparkle into his blue eyes.
“Think I'm gonna like it.”
Shane leaned down and planted a quick, dirty kiss on his lips.
“Good.”
“Cut,” Dean said. “That's a wrap, boys. Nice work.”
Amy was there with a towel, water, and Daryl's robe as soon as the boom operator and cameraman had stepped back. Grateful, he cleaned himself up and pulled the robe back around himself. He tried to fold the towel over so she wouldn't have to touch anything and she seemed to recognize that, smiling at him before taking it back, still holding it with only the tips of two fingers anyway.
“Man, that was great,” Shane said, guzzling his whole bottle of water down in one giant gulp before finding his briefs on the bed and pulling them back on. “We're gonna have to do more shit together.”
Daryl couldn't focus on what he was saying, still too wrapped up in his own unsated need.
“Yeah.” He palmed over his cock as they walked back toward the dressing rooms, hoping Shane didn't notice.
“You alright?” Shane asked. “Some first timers... regret things a little after.”
“'M fine,” Daryl said, growling it out little too forcefully. He could make out the two D's in his name on one of the doors ahead, and he found himself sighing in relief at the idea of pounding one out into one of the Kleenex from the box on the vanity.
He threw open the door as soon as they were upon it, probably seeming a little too anxious to get inside, but fuck if he cared with the way his body was screaming for release. Sliding inside, he had his robe open and his hand on his cock before he even managed to shut the thing all the way, figuring that Shane would just keep walking.
But the door caught, finding some resistance on the way back to the jamb, and when Daryl's head snapped up from looking down at his own fingers wrapped around himself, he found Shane staring at him, his large hand on the door to keep it from closing.
“So, that's why you're so cranky, huh?” Shane asked. “Didn't get yours.”
“Fuck off.”
“Hey, man, it ain't my fault. I wasn't directing the damn thing.”
Shane slid inside the door and shut it behind him with a gentle click.
“Here, let me.”
“I can do it. Hell, it was just a job,” Daryl said. “Ain't like you're my boyfriend. You don't owe me nothin.”
“Never said I did,” Shane said, gently prying Daryl's hand away. “But a man gives me the best damn BJ of my life, well, makes me feel a little inclined to reciprocate.”
Backing Daryl into the vanity, he reached between them and wrapped his hand around Daryl's cock, stroking from base to tip, eliciting a little moan from between his lips.
“Next time,” Shane said, planting a kiss on Daryl's neck and speaking low in his ear, “if you wanna cum, just fucking say something.”
“I wanna cum.”
“See. Wasn't so hard, was it?” Shane picked up the bottle of lube sitting on Daryl's vanity, the same one he'd used before the shoot to open himself up. He squeezed a little onto his fingers and gently nudged Daryl until he turned around, hips pressing into the counter top.
In the vanity mirror, Daryl watched Shane pull the robe off him again, dropping it in the chair that he'd already scooted against the wall with his foot. Then he pulled Daryl's boxer briefs down again, disappearing below what Daryl could see from his vantage point in the mirror. He stepped out of them, feeling Shane's hands urging his ankles up, and then the other man reappeared, dropping his underwear down on the counter.
“Spread your legs a little for me.”
Daryl did, letting Shane nudge his thighs apart with his knees.
“There,” Shane said, before his lips found the back of Daryl's neck, kissing all over the place beneath his hairline. “I'm gonna take real good care of you, Daryl.”
Finally getting to hear his real name slide out of Shane's mouth in that bedroom voice made Daryl's lungs contract a little. Shane's fingers easily entered him, crooking down and finding his prostate almost instantly. The porn star didn't waste any time with teasing, which Daryl was grateful for because he was even more worked up than he was when he first got into the room, and that was fucking saying something.
“Fuck yes,” he sighed, arcing back into Shane's touch. Shane kept kissing him, lips softly moving over his shoulders and neck like satin caught in the wind. Daryl looked up, watching it in all unfold behind him the mirror. It was different than on set, more tender. Still dirty, but less forceful. He decided he liked this better, even if “Johnny Steele” was a damn good lay, not finishing aside.
Shane pulled out, switching to his left hand so he could wrap his right around Daryl's erection, stroking him in time with what his fingers were doing inside of him. Daryl looked up and found Shane's eyes in the mirror, locked on his in the glass. In his periphery, he could see Shane stroking him twice-over—both in the real world and in the reflection.
He couldn't keep his eyes open anymore, letting them flutter closed as his body tensed, finding the edge that it'd had on the bed back on set, right before the director had robbed him of his own big finish.
“There you go, sugar.” Shane's voice was low and sweet, lips brushing against Daryl's ear as he spoke. “Make a nice big mess for me.”
He quickened the pace of both hands, stimulating Daryl in every way imaginable, until he was practically melting in his arms.
“Shane,” Daryl moaned softly, and he heard the other man mm at the sound of his name.
His body was a bowstring, taut and ready to fire at just the right moment. Shane had to be able to feel that, because he put a little more pressure in just the right spot and gave his hand a gentle little twist around the head of Daryl's cock with every stroke.
“Fuck I'm...”
“Go on, sweetheart.” And Daryl's knees stopped working right as his body let go, cum spattering all over vanity and onto the reflection of his stomach in the mirror. Shane held him up, refusing to let him fall as he came down from his high, waiting until Daryl's feet found purchase on the floor and his knees quit shaking enough for him to stand again.
“There you go,” he said, gently spinning Daryl back around and softly claiming his mouth in a sensual, slow kiss. “Did I give you what you needed?”
“Yeah,” Daryl sighed, panting, his eyes still struggling to stay open for longer than a few seconds at a time. “Thanks. Didn't have to.”
“Nah, man, I really did.” Shane smiled at him. “Besides, I've got seniority around here, and I'm gonna be askin for you a lot. Want you to actually agree when I do.”
“Reckon I will,” Daryl said. “Was a good fuck even with the cameras there.”
“Yeah. Wasn't lyin about you havin an ass made for takin cock. Fucking thing of beauty.”
“Stop,” Daryl said, cheeks reddening a little.
“Maybe we'll have ourselves a little viewing party when they get the editing done,” Shane said. “Rehearse a little for the next shoot we do.” He winked.
Daryl looked down at his bare feet and then back at Shane, his skin feeling a little warmer than it should ever have been allowed to feel.
“Might like that,” he said.
“Oh, I know you would, Daryl,” Shane said. He smiled at him again, and then he opened the door to Daryl's dressing room and was gone, padding back toward his own with a little more pep in his step than usual.