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Ball Kings

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Ian tips his head back, pushes his chest out, groans out a loud moan as his orgasm hits. Feeling the spasm of Owen around him, smooths a hand down his back and into the bowed dip of it as he shudders with his face buried in his arms. He watches his hands leave a glistening trail of lube along his dark skin, pumps his hips a few more times to ride out his aftershocks before he pulls out and turns his hips for the camera to get the best view. His freckled hand a stark contrast to Owen's back, to the globes of his ass as Ian spreads them open. Giving the camera a good view of his cum trailing out with the tip of his dick.

Owen is still breathing heavily. Cam A on his face while he turns his head to look back at Ian with a grin. Ian goes with it. He has chemistry with Owen. And Ball Kings didn't get to the top of the game by pairing dudes who don't have chemistry. V is very specific about who partners with whom. They've grown a working relationship with not only the porn stars but also the camera operators and the directors. V often directs the shoots for these two since they are her top grossing stars currently.

Owen makes good show of clenching and giving Cam B all the close up of his blown out hole before he reaches back to tug on Ian's arm. Ian climbs onto the bed, making sure to flex every muscle before he grasps Owen's hips to toss his legs to the side, climbing over him and covering his mouth with his own. Owen's a good cam kisser. They've gotten their roles down to a T. Making is appear as though they're intimate, they're kissing each other out of enjoyment not because they're getting paid for it. And it's not bad kissing, it's just thought out and planned. Just like the sex. Everything is scripted. It's still enjoyable, it's sex for fuck's sake, of course it's enjoyable. And Owen's a good lay. He's a great bottom, tight and it's clear he's more than happy to take a fat cock like Ian's.

It's a little strange to know so much about a guy he'd never date. Nothing against him. They're just better as friends. Which is maybe why it's been so easy to shoot with him. They know each other well enough to know sex codes.

Owen is not the only one Ian fucks. But their series of videos are the most popular on Ball Kings' website, popular enough that Ian got his first invite this year to the porn shows in Vegas in February. There's even rumor they've been nominated for a Cocksucker, but the official nods won't be announced until next week.

"And cut." V's voice enters his head just as he's drawing back from the kiss, "good work. I'll take it to the cutting room tomorrow and see what we need to refilm."

The sound of camera equipment being taken down and people shuffling around the set. The lights dimming and filtering into Ian's head. He rolls over to his back, throwing an arm over his face. They'll lay here, in all their lubed up and cum filled glory until it's just the two of them and V. She'll give them a run through of what they did right and what they need to work on. She'll have ideas for how to angle properly for the reshoot. She never makes them run through the scene again in one day. She prefers her porn to be realistic, avoiding fake semen and weak orgasms at all costs. She's a little picky about her foreplay scenes and the more intimate bits of the shoot, but the sex is usually pretty easy. Letting the stars go with what they're good at.

Ian lays on top of the sheets, he's got nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. These people have seen every part of him. And he makes good money that way. He lets the cool air begin to dry the sweat on his skin while he listens to V's perspective on today's work. Owen's body heat close, but not touching while he listens and adds his input. Ian nods along, feeling bone tired now after spending half his day knuckle deep in tight ass, with a raging hard-on while he waited for penetration. He's built up a lot of stamina over the last two years he's worked here. But the waiting is still torture.

"I will have Foxy text you the details for our next shoot." V offers them both a clean robe, clearly stating without saying a thing that it's time to get the hell off her set and get cleaned up so she can get home in time for dinner.

Ian responds with a salute, dragging himself to the edge of the bed to tug the robe on. If he stayed lying down for any longer he'd pass out here and not even have to go home between shoots. But he's still got some weightlifting to do tonight and a lean protein meal to cook. Keeping his body fit, flexible, and muscled has never been a burden for him. He enjoys the order in it. The lack of surprises in his day when he can schedule out his entire week on Sunday night, prep his meals and fill in his planner.

He fist-bumps Owen on his way by, giving him a, "good work today," over his shoulder when he exits the door.

Down the hallway he can hear voices from V's office. It's late for them to be having a meeting but that's what is sounds like. Kev and Foxy must have started the meeting early. Either that or V is in no mood to be trifled with as she starts quickly by ordering more than asking, "what can you bring to Ball Kings?"

Ian can hear the stranger snort, his voice is gravel and dirt and sends a tingle of intrigue through Ian as he begins speaking, "I can bring shit to the table that you don't have. You guys got a lot of categories, and a lot of stars. You're premium. But there is one thing you are lacking severely."

"Severely?" V sounds pissed.

Ian feels himself smirk as he starts walking towards the office. The door is cracked just slightly. Just enough that if he is quiet enough and plays his angles right, he'll be able to see whoever this is that dare challenge V's business model. "Severely." The voice responds with nothing but cocky confidence in his tone.

"Well," V huffs out, "tell me first where you got your business degree."

"Don't have one. But I've got experience watching porn. And I gotta tell you, you're missing solo male bottoms. Specifically. And severely." He adds the last part with a whole lot of dare in his voice.

Ian inches forward further. He needs to see this guy's face. To see if it matches his voice. If it matches the cocky cadences in his tone.

V is quiet for a long enough moment that Foxy offers, "we have been meaning to send out casting calls for solo male bottoms."

"Well it looks like Mr Milkovich here beat us to the punch." V responds. Ian can picture her expression right now. Looking at whoever this guy is like she's taking him apart in her mind already. He seems to have thrown her for a loop and she hasn't been able to voice it yet. She eventually clears her throat and Ian takes a few more steps forward, nearly to the door now. "You have a half an hour to impress me." The sound of her chair being pulled out from behind her desk, "do you need time to get started?"

"Do I look like an amateur? Someone who'd show up to an interview without prepping first?" The guy responds. Ian cranes his neck to peer into the office before the guy can get out of the chair and move over towards the casting room. His breath gets punched out of his chest when his eyes land on the ink-black hair, the snow white skin, and the cocky eyebrow lift over the pale blue of piercing eyes.

"Holy fuck," Ian hears himself whisper. Watching the guy get to his feet. Revealing muscled shoulders, a strong broad back that tapers into narrow hips and a perky ass.

"Is that your natural hair color?" V wonders when he's standing.

"Yeah." He stays where he stands, cocking his head and waiting for V to nod before he pulls off his long-sleeved shirt, "the tats you can see already. Hafada and frenum piercings. Working on a Jacob's ladder."

V hums a response. Ian feels his mouth watering and he swallows it down, listening for anyone in the office to start moving towards the door. He really had no desire to get busted.

"Solo only?"

"Yeah. I don't work with partners. Never will."

Fuck. Ian feels his stomach twist, wanting to barge into the office and offer a hand at the very least.

"Can I ask why?"

"You can ask. But I don't gotta answer."

V snorts, "fair enough. Let's move to the casting room and you can show me what you've got."

Fighting every urge in his body to go in there, reserve a spot in the casting room and watch. Instead he pulls himself away from the door, hurries down to the locker room before he can get caught out here and keeps his fingers crossed that this guy will get hired and it won't be the last he sees of him.


you go to work in the morning, fuck all day, come home and have nothing to say about it?

Ian rolls his eyes at the text, doesn't bother responding to his brother and goes about putting his dinner together.

dude you fuck all day.

for your job

It's Carl. Of course he's not going to leave Ian alone until he answers.

Balls deep all day. Tired. Leave me alone.

Thankfully, the phone doesn't vibrate. He's going to see him tomorrow anyway, he can ask his burning questions about the porn industry then. Truthfully, Ian is tired. Not of the job. It's easier than a relationship. He goes to work five days a week, get's blown, fucked, or jerked off and comes home satisfied. To an empty house. Where no one leaves their dirty underwear laying around, or stinky shoes in the way, no one to roll out of bed without making it in the morning. There's no one sitting across the table at him at dinner. Or making noise in the kitchen when he's trying to listen to the news. Or scrolling through Netflix to find the next series they're going to binge.

Ian sighs. Taking his plate to the couch to pick out whatever he wants to watch, not having to take into account what anyone else wants. "Maybe it's time for a dog." He tells his steaming plate as he scrolls mindlessly through the menu.


He doesn't see Mr Milkovich the next day at work. Even though he cranes his neck around every corner and into every room as discreetly as possible to see if there are any additions to the workforce. He doesn't want to ask V. It'd be too obvious. Then she would stick her nose it it and probably set them up on an awkward date that he'd regret horribly.

They run through the talking points. They get naked. He rims the hell out of Owen, get's his cock sucked and leaves for the weekend knowing next week will start a new scene. This time it'll be with Jody who can suck his own cock, so Ian really just has to be there to rig up his swing, and tie his bindings, stroking himself while he toys Jody's ass. It's not complicated. Jody's the one who goes through all the work when they work together. He's kind of a weird guy, but he's easy to work with so Ian isn't going to complain. With Owen on vacation, his replacement partner could be a lot more awkward than Jody.

He paid for a car service to pick up his brothers at the airport and told the doorman to just let them up. So he expected them to be there by the time he got home. Going through his things, making a mess, and drinking his beers. It's good to see them even if they are mostly a pain in his ass. Carl wanting to know everything about how porn is filmed, even if Ian tells him it ruins the mystique if you know all of it. Lip grunting, smoking, and generally adding whatever genius bullshit he can add to the conversation when it's needed. He's here in New York for a job interview with some big tech corporation. But he has no desire to take the job when it's offered. He's a Chicago kid, he'll always be. Ian just hopes he realizes his full potential before he turns this one down, if he would just put in the work in NY and suck it up for a few years he can move back to Chicago once he proves himself to the company. They'll keep him on and let him work remotely. But he can't just go in there demanding that from the jump. Which is something Ian tells him. He responds by rolling his eyes, stomping out his cig and reentering the loft to drink another beer.

At least the tech company paid for their tickets. They would have paid for accommodations and Ian is starting to think he should have let them when he sees Carl's feet up on the coffee table. He sighs to himself, hangs both their jackets on the hooks instead of on the armchair where they left them and settles in with his phone to zone in and out of the game that they've got on the big screen.


It's Monday when he hears Mr Milkovich's voice again. This time it's in one of the filming rooms. If he can hear it, then the door is open. The rooms are soundproofed so as long as the door is closed it isn't like anyone can just walk down the hall and listen to moans and shouts, slaps, headboard banging, or whipping. There are designated rooms for certain fetishes so that the more messy fetishes don't overlap into the vanilla rooms. Vanilla rooms being what V likes to call the pairings that are more likely to never use props, to fuck missionary, and to kiss on the lips. Ian falls mostly into the vanilla category, but he doesn't mind being a prop in the more hardcore rooms when he's needed. Whips, chains, gang bangs aren't really his thing but depending on the amount of zeros following the offer on paper he's been known to dabble. He doesn't need to dabble much now that he's got a fanbase that's pretty loyal and his fanbase expects vanilla, so he'll give vanilla.

"Honestly, I'm a little surprised she agreed to this so easily." It's Foxy's voice that Ian hears first.

"Yeah, well I told her I'd have over a hundred subscribers after the first video gets posted, so buckle up buttercup."

"Foxy actually, but thanks for generalizing."

Ian finds himself smirking as he listens in on their conversation. The guy looks rough around the edges, not someone who would ask people their proper pronouns much less their name before he designated them with a nickname.

"What the fuck ever it is, or whatever you are, either help me set this shit up or get out of my way."

Ian stifles a snicker with his hand over his mouth as Foxy scoffs and next thing he sees is him hustling through the door, probably to tell V that he's just been offended by the new kid. Ian steps into the doorway that was left open, taking in the sight of the man who's hustling around the place, setting up toy stations and marking x's on the floor for the cameras. Stuff that a director and the film crew normally do.

"You used to doing all your own filming?" Ian asks.

The guy doesn't even look up at the intrusion. "Yeah. I am actually, so if you're not going to help, then get the fuck out."

Mouthy. And hot as hell. He can think of about ten different things he'd like to do to that mouth as soon as Milkovich turns his head, giving him a straight-on view of his face. And wow. He would look good on his knees, face tilted up. Ian shudders at the thought, then shakes it off and introduces himself. "Ian Gallagher," with his hand extended for shake.

Milkovich waves him off before he can even step all the way across the room to reaching distance. "I got shit to do here. So this has been nice and all tough guy, but like I said unless you're here to help then do me a favor and fuck off."

Ian's entire body bristles at his words, instead of calling him out on being an asshole to his coworkers, he decides to just leave. Let him be, he'll get fired soon enough. As soon as V hears his mouth and witnesses his attitude towards his fellow actors, he'll be out the door. No matter how many subscribers he can pull after just one video.