Chapter Text
It starts raining just as Dave gets off the bus to start walking. Which is fucking fitting, honestly, because why wouldn't there be a rainstorm in Houston on the day he gets kicked out of the house? Nothing in his life ever goes right, so why would the weather be any exception?
Ugh, fuck, he hates how melodramatic he's being right now. Even though he has to admit this situation maybe calls for a tiny bit of melodrama.
Following his phone's directions, Dave finds himself in front of what appears to be a warehouse. There's no sign or indication that this is the right place, but then again, he has no idea what a porn studio is supposed to look like anyway. His hands shake as he pulls out his phone to double check the address, and yep, this is definitely the place.
The rain is soaking through his t-shirt and his teeth are starting to chatter. No point in putting this off any longer.
He lifts a finger to the door buzzer, which is just a single unlabeled button and a speaker box, and pushes it before he can pussy out.
After a moment of silence, the intercom crackles and a rough male voice answers. "Who is it?"
"Um, my name's Dave? I'm a friend of Equius Zahhak, he told me you might be able to give me a job. Uh, sorry, I probably should have called ahead, fuck, why didn't I call ahead? Wait, this is the right place, isn't it, um, Stiff S-Stallion Studios?"
Under any other circumstances, Dave would be sporting an ironic smirk in appreciation of the sheer ridiculousness of that fucking name. Right now, though, he can only focus on how young and high-pitched his voice sounds, and how badly he's already fucking this up.
-
Bro is slamming back a beer and fucking around with some new editing software he torrented online when the intercom buzzes. He sighs, pushing himself to his feet and walking across the concrete floor. He swears to god, if one of the actors left their fucking purse or something behind again....
He rolls his eyes when the person on the other side of the intercom answers. Fucking Zahhak. He’s sent a few people Bro’s way so far and the asshole must have a bleeding heart beneath all that muscle because they’ve all been down on their luck and desperate.
Bro buzzes them in, heading for the stairs to meet them at the entrance of the studio. He lives in the loft above; it’s kind of shit in a bougie industrial way, but whatever. As long as Bro’s got his computer and cameras everything else is secondary.
“You have to be fucking kidding me,” Bro says when he lays eyes on the kid--and it is a fucking kid--that Zahhak sent his way.
Short and skinny, drenched from the rain outside, with a cheap pixie haircut and small tits, ‘Dave’ is cute in a way that threatens an orange jumpsuit. Jesus.
“Come back when you can drive, kid,” Bro drawls, unamused. It’s one thing to look the other way when an actor’s turning 18 in a couple months, it’s another thing entirely to jumpstart a 13 year old’s porn career. That’s what snapchat is for.
-
The inside of the warehouse isn't much warmer than it was outside, though at least it's not raining in here. There's a sound stage on one side of the room bearing a bed and some furniture, as well as an absolute fuckload of cameras and fancy looking lighting equipment.
Dave hears footsteps and looks up to see a man approaching. The man stops a few paces away and holy shit he's tall. He's also wearing a pair of ridiculous sunglasses that look like he got them at some knockoff anime merch shop. Dave stares up at him for a moment before he realizes his own freaky eyes are on full display and quickly looks down at his feet instead.
The guy immediately scoffs and tells him to get the fuck out of there, which, yeah, Dave pretty much expected that. He knows what he looks like.
"Hey, I'll have you know I got my license last month," he says, then cringes. "Uh, I mean, two years ago, cause I'm obviously eighteen."
Fuck, he hates this so much. Having to ask anyone for help always sucks ass and it's a thousand times worse when it's a stranger, but he literally has nowhere else to turn right now, so.
"Look, I'm really sorry to show up here and take up your time cause you seem like an important guy and all but I really really fucking need a job. It doesn't have to be porn stuff, okay? I mean I totally will do porn stuff if you want." He gulps nervously but keeps going. "I just mean I'll do anything, like I'll scrub your toilet, hand-wash your garbage, write personalized hate notes to all your enemies if you want, just. You fuckin' name it and I'll do it."
Dave looks back at the man's face. It's completely expressionless in a way that sends an unsettled shiver down Dave's back and he ducks his head again, folding his arms self-consciously across his chest.
-
Okay, the kid’s sixteen. Still too young for the kind of shit Bro films. Though he’s got some nice features, and a pair of red eyes, which Bro could work with if he came back in a year or two.
“You wanna be the one to mop up jizz after a shoot?” Bro scoffs. “Go apply at McDonald’s and do your homework. This isn’t the place for you.”
Dave is starting to shiver from the cold and Bro can still hear the rain pounding outside. He’s going to have a talk with Zahhak about the kind of people he points Bro’s way.
“Come on,” Bro sighs, turning around and heading back up the stairs. “You can chill until the rain lets up, then you’re out of here.”
-
Dave's neck heats up with embarrassment at the thought of mopping up jizz. This guy's right, he doesn't fucking belong here, especially if he gets embarrassed just at the thought of... that.
But he doesn't belong at McDonald's either, or at least that's what the manager told him when he applied a few months back. Same with Taco Bell, Burger King, and Subway... as low as their standards are, none of them are willing to hire a sixteen year old with a petty theft conviction on his background check. Go figure.
Rubbing his bare arms to try and stop his shivering, Dave follows the man upstairs to what appears to be a real apartment, not like the fake setup downstairs. Does this dude live above his own fucking porn studio? Damn, that's kind of hardcore.
The guy gestures toward the futon couch so Dave sits down, plunking his soaking wet backpack on the floor between his legs. In his haste to pack up his important shit he'd somehow forgotten to grab his fucking jacket, a mistake that he's already regretting.
"Um, thanks for letting me hang out," he mumbles. "I knew it was a long shot anyway when Equius told me to come here, it's just, he said you guys don't mind about people having like, shit on their record, as long as they work hard? Which is cool of you. But like, I'll figure something else out. Not that it's your fuckin' problem anyway. Sorry."
He's already being about as uncool as he possibly could be, but he forces himself to shut up to try to minimize the damage. Not that it fucking matters, really, but this dude didn't ask for his sob story and he's already going out of his way by letting Dave stay here for a few minutes.
-
Bro cocks an eyebrow, giving Dave another once over before turning around and heading to grab a towel from one of the many free-standing wardrobes he’d had to lug up here and build. On his way back he stops by the kitchen, digging a lone orange soda out from behind the beer cans lining the lower shelf.
“What do you have on your record?” Bro asks, tossing the towel to Dave and passing him the can of soda. It’s not his business, but he’s curious. Dave has a flighty look about him, like he’d bolt at the first sign of danger. He doesn’t exactly exude a criminal vibe. “That why you’re trying to trick innocent porn directors into child pornography charges?”
-
Dave takes the items gratefully, setting the soda down first so he can towel off his soaking wet hair. He freezes and reddens at the man's comment. "I wasn't trying to-- Fuck, I didn't really think about that. Sorry." Jesus. Somehow he'd fucking forgotten that sixteen year olds still count as children in the eyes of the law. He doesn't feel like a child.
He attempts to dry his shirt but gives up fairly quickly and just wraps the damp towel around his shoulders instead. Warmer that way.
"I got caught lifting a pack of boxers at fucking Wal-mart like, six months ago. Dumbest fucking thing I've ever done, and trust me, I've done a lot of dumb shit."
He probably shouldn't be telling this guy how dumb he is, actually, since he doesn't want to make Equius look like a jerk for sending him here. He also definitely needs to come up with a better story about his theft record, like maybe he could say he stole a hovercar or drugs or something cool like that. Getting arrested for stealing underwear is so incredibly lame. It wasn't even sexy underwear, just like, the normal functional kind. Fuck his life.
Dave cracks open the soda and takes a long sip to cover his awkwardness.
-
Ah, shoplifting. Some Walmart boxers though? Really?
The people Zahhak tends to send his way are desperate, with few to little options, and he’s starting to get the feeling that Dave is no different. Bro typically at least hooks them up with one of his contacts if he doesn’t have work for them, but he doesn’t have many contacts outside the porn industry.
He eyes the bag at Dave’s feet. It’s stuffed full, straining the zipper.
“Alright, kid, tell me the truth,” Bro says, giving in to his curiosity. “You a runaway? What are you gonna do when I kick your ass out? You got some place to stay?”
-
Dave shakes his head. "I didn't run away. Got kicked out." It feels a little unreal to say it out loud.
"I don't, um, really know anybody around here. My parents move around a lot so I'm homeschooled, or... I was. Anyway. If I can save up some money I might be able to go stay with my cousins in New York, or my friend John in Seattle said I could come crash with him anytime, but he probably just meant for a fun vacation, right? Not like an invitation to go live with him. Ha."
His insides squirm with guilt. It feels like he's not telling the entire truth, because yeah he did get kicked out, but it was his own fault to begin with. If he hadn't been so insistent about wanting to be a boy and change his name and shit, if he would have just shut up and let it go, then he wouldn't be dripping rainwater all over this dude's couch right now.
Would it really have been too hard to wait another two years to come out? He feels sick and numb. What the hell is he doing?
-
It’s not Bro’s problem. Plenty of kids get kicked out and got nowhere to go. Just because this one literally showed up at his doorstep doesn’t mean it’s his business.
There’s a loud crash of thunder outside. The rain beats hard against the windows. Dave is still shivering.
Bro sighs.
“Fuck,” he says under his breath. Then, louder, “I’m not gonna send you out in this if you ain’t got nowhere to go. You can stay the night and I’ll see if anyone knows anyone who’s lookin’ for help. Go warm up in the shower.”
He jerks his head towards the bathroom, a clear ‘get the fuck off my futon.’ His life would be so much easier if he really was a heartless bastard.
-
Wait, so the guy isn't gonna hire him, but he's letting Dave stay overnight? Dave blinks in confusion. This man has no reason to be nice to him, and there's no way Dave can pay him for it, unless... oh.
He feels like an idiot for not realizing it sooner, and then his adrenaline spikes because fuck, this guy is big and that probably means his dick is big too, doesn't it? But it's probably still safer than being out on the street tonight. He seems like he's not a creep, so he probably won't hurt Dave too much. Anyway, Dave has to lose his virginity one way or another, right? He might as well get a safe night's sleep in exchange for it.
He feels himself blushing again and ducks his head. He picks up his backpack and mumbles a quick, "Thanks, man," before heading into the bathroom.
The shower is surprisingly nice; clean and spacious and chock fucking full of fancy looking hair products. Dave showers quickly and dries off as well as he can with the already-damp towel. His clothes are still soaked so he pulls out the one change of clothes he packed and gets dressed, avoiding his reflection in the mirror the whole time. His stomach churns as he takes one last deep breath and heads back out of the bathroom.
-
Bro goes back to his beer and software while Dave goes to shower. He’s not sure if he’ll be sticking with this new shit. It has more gimmicks, a couple bells and whistles, but the interface is fucking garbage. Ah well.
It takes him a minute or two to notice his new house guest standing awkwardly at the edge of the room, fully dressed and clutching his bag in front of him as he looks around nervously like he’s about to enter a lion’s den.
“You can throw your wet clothes in the dryer,” Bro says. He takes a swig of his beer. “It’s in the kitchen. And grab yourself some food but keep your hands off the alcohol.”
There’s not much food in the kitchen, admittedly. Bro mostly lives on a diet of beer and pizza. He’s lucky his genetics are fantastic, though he does shell out a bit of extra cash for a 24-hour gym membership he uses extensively when the nightmares get to be too much.
Hopefully the kid likes leftover pizza.
-
Dave nods and avoids eye contact with his host like an ungrateful asshole as he sets his bag down and goes into the kitchen. It's small, sparsely furnished and nowhere near as nice as the bathroom was. He sticks his clothes in the dryer, then heads to the fridge. He feels guilty about taking the dude's food, but he's also not gonna be stupid and say no to a free meal.
The fridge contains a pizza box with a couple slices left in it, as well as enough beer cans to inebriate an entire frat house for a night. Probably. Dave's never actually been to a frat party, or any party where alcohol was involved, but he thinks he gets the gist of it from movies and shit. Whatever. He ignores the beer and grabs a slice of pizza and a paper plate, then takes them back to the other room.
The guy is fully focused on his computer and completely ignores him, so Dave shuffles over to the futon and sits down quietly with his food. He tries not to stare at his host as he begins eating, but he can't help being hyperaware of the other's presence in the room. The guy just ignores him, though, so Dave quietly finishes his slice and sets his plate down. His orange soda is still on the table so he finishes the rest of it, but he's still pretty hungry. He doesn't dare to take any more food, though.
He bounces his foot on the floor and waits anxiously, wondering what the guy will want him to do.
-
Bro fucks around on his laptop a little while longer before finally closing out of the software and finishing his beer. When he glances at Dave he finds him sitting silently, staring at his knees as one of his legs bounces nervously.
Well fuck. He already made sure Dave is clean and fed. He’s letting the kid stay the night and tomorrow he’ll find him a job. Is he supposed to do more? Bro tries to remember what teenagers like to do. When he was sixteen he liked…. swords, sex, and angry music. Dave looks like the mere mention of those things would have him fleeing like a startled rabbit.
“...You wanna play Tony Hawk?” he tries, eyes landing on the neglected, outdated game system beneath his tv.
-
Dave feels the weight of the man's eyes on him and cold dread settles in his stomach. He should look up, show that he's willing, he's not ungrateful, but he can't do it.
Then the guy asks his question and Dave finally does look up, working to keep the confusion off his face. He tries to determine whether the guy's being serious or fucking with him, but his deadpan face and neutral posture are impossible for Dave to read.
"Uh, okay," he says, wiping his hands on his pants to clean off the pizza grease.
It's been awhile since he's played a real video game. Sometimes he plays Words With Friends on his phone with Rose and shit like that. He had an old Playstation back home, but it's been collecting dust for years since the TV was in the family room and Dave didn't like to spend more time there than he absolutely had to.
-
Alright, sweet. It’s been a long ass time since Bro took the time to kick back and play some Tony Hawk. He sets about getting the system connected and fucking around with the channels until the logo pops up on screen and tosses a controller Dave’s way.
“Catch,” he says, amused as Dave fumbles to do so. He returns to his seat and sets it to multiplayer.
His preferred method of playing video games is seeing just how much he can fuck around before the game glitches out and becomes unplayable. While Dave starts trying to rack up points, Bro casually glitches himself into a wall.
-
The guy goes back to his computer chair instead of joining Dave on the futon, which makes Dave's shoulders relax the tiniest bit. He concentrates on learning the controls, figuring out which moves he can spam over and over to get extra points.
When he takes a moment to look at the other side of the split screen, he sees the dude's character has somehow gotten stuck inside a wall. Wow. Either this guy is impressively bad at video games, or he just did that shit on purpose, which would be fucking hilarious. Dave chances a peek at the guy's face. It's just as flat and expressionless as before.
Dave has no idea what to think. He decides to continue playing like normal but he keeps half an eye on the other side of the screen to see what else the guy decides to do.
-
Bro feels Dave’s eyes on him but ignores it. The kid keeps playing the game as usual, which is boring as fuck in Bro’s opinion. After a couple attempts he manages to get his character out of the wall, through to the other side, and spends a little while doing lame combos until he gets bored and goes to find the vending machine that lets him get his character stuck face-down inside of it.
He hears a quiet laugh and fights to keep a smirk off his face. It’s been awhile since anyone’s appreciated his approach to gaming.
-
Dave can't help laughing a little at the ridiculousness of this shit, but cuts it off quick in case it pisses his host off. He sneaks a glance but the guy doesn't look angry or anything, and he breathes a little easier.
Curiosity takes hold and he skates his character over to the vending machine, fucking around with the controls and trying to get stuck in it too, but his character just bounces off over and over. Dave frowns and mashes the buttons harder but is met with the same results.
-
The kid tries to find the glitch, skating over to the vending machine. Bro glances at him and his eyebrows are drawn together in concentration, the tip of his tongue peeking out between his lips. Cute.
“Press X and A together and come at it from this angle,” Bro says. Dave jumps a bit when he speaks, which is fuckin’ adorable. He’d do well in porn; he has a sweet, innocent look, and no doubt people would love seeing him get fucking wrecked. Bro’s studio already has a decent following; Dave would steal the show and bring in new viewers, undoubtedly.
In a year or two, maybe, if he’s still interested.
-
Dave startles, not having known he was being observed. The fact that this guy's paying that close attention to him makes his stomach squirm oddly, and he can't tell whether he likes the feeling.
Following the dude's instructions, he lines up and mashes the buttons right when his character collides with the vending machine and-- oh hell fucking yes, he's glitched right through it and partly into the wall behind it, even.
He can't help sneaking a peek at the guy, wanting to see his reaction. Wanting his approval, as ridiculous and misguided as that idea is.
-
“Nice,” Bro nods, the corner of his mouth twitching up as Dave glances at him. He’s hesitant, shy, and though he’s obviously trying to be subtle about it his body language is practically crying out for approval.
Well, Bro can work with that. On anyone else the desperation would be off-putting. On Dave it’s kind of cute.
“You wanna see some other glitches?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Get out of there and follow me.”
-
Dave’s heart flips over in his chest at the approval he gets. It shouldn’t affect him this much, he knows it, but, well. He doesn’t get approval from adults very often. Especially not these days.
He tries not to appear too excited as he glitches his character back out of the machine and obediently follows the guy.
-
Bro has to make an effort to keep his lip from twitching up as Dave eagerly follows his character on screen. He shows him a few of the easier glitches, then some of the lesser known ones. He’s not usually much for talking but he tries to give Dave some sort of recognition when he does the tricks himself, whether it’s a nod or a smirk or a word of praise.
It doesn’t take much to have the kid turning his head and making doe eyes after he levitates his character, so eager for approval it might be funny if it weren’t so sad. This kid doesn’t have any street smarts or survival instincts.
After showing off a few more glitches, Bro slams back the rest of his beer and says, “It’s getting late. You tired?”
-
Dave's shyness starts to melt away a little as the guy continues with his approving comments. It feels so damn good to be told that he's good, even at something dumb and unimportant like a video game. Dave keeps expecting the other shoe to drop, for the guy to throw it all in his face and mock him for believing the praise, but it never comes.
All good things come to an end, though. The guy asks if he's tired, and Dave's pretty sure he knows exactly what that's code for. Right.
He bites his lip and nods. "Yeah, I'm ready to crash." He's still nervous about losing his virginity but he mostly just doesn't want to fuck up and disappoint the guy. Unsure how to begin, he stands up and crosses the room, pausing in front of the other man. When the other doesn't respond, Dave tenses, worried he's already made a mistake.
"How do you want me to...?" He reaches his hands toward the man's belt, eyes flicking up to his face for approval.
-
Bro’s face remains blank as curiosity fills him, seeing Dave stand. He waits to see what the kid will do, wondering what he’s gotten into his head. When hands reach for his belt it becomes clear and Bro quickly grabs Dave’s wrist, pushing them away firmly but without malice.
“What? You think I’m gonna fuck you after saying you’re too young for porn?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. Dave’s face is turning red and he drops his gaze and Bro feels a surprising pang of pity in his chest.
“You can sleep on the couch,” he says and, after a moment’s hesitation, reaches out and awkwardly ruffles the kid’s hair, hopefully softening the blow to his fragile teenage self-esteem.
-
Wait, does the guy not want to... Shit. Okay, cool, so Dave apparently completely misread the situation, that's awesome, if he could just shrivel up and die now that would be great, thanks.
His face burns with humiliation and he feels a lump in his throat and a stinging at his eyes that makes no fucking sense at all. There's no way he's going to cry like a baby about, what, being rejected by a guy that he didn't even want to fuck in the first place? He's so pathetic.
The guy ruffles his hair and his touch sends a tingling shiver all down Dave's back. He closes his eyes and swallows. "...Sorry. And thanks. I, uh... Just. Thanks."
-
Despite his obvious embarrassment, the tension goes out of Dave’s shoulders, obviously relieved he’s not about to get railed by a man nearly twice his age. Bro drops his hand and clears his throat.
“Don’t mention it,” he says gruffly. Then adds, “Word of advice, kid, don’t go around offering people things you don’t wanna give. ‘Specially not around here.”
Dave nods and Bro decides that his quota of good deeds is complete for the year. It’s nothing but being an asshole from here on out.
“Wait here,” he says, and goes to dig out a spare pillow and blanket.
-
Fuck, this guy is being so nice to him. Dave feels horrible and guilty for existing and taking advantage of his kindness. If it weren't his only option he'd have booked it out of there the moment the dude turned him down for a job. But instead he's here, being a useless fucking freeloader, taking up space on his couch for the night. He almost wishes the guy would have just done... stuff... to him. At least then he wouldn't feel so guilty about all this niceness he's being given.
He sits back down on the couch and drops his face into his hands. He curses under his breath and takes a deep breath, then sits up straight as the guy returns.
-
Bro returns with the pillow and blanket, placing them at the end of the couch, wondering if he’s supposed to do anything else. It’s not like he has guests often, and he doesn’t know if Dave is a guest anyway. More like a stray, really.
“...Night,” he finally says, turning around and heading to his room. It’s weird, having someone in his space.
Well, it’s only for the night. Bro will find the kid a job somewhere tomorrow and wash his hands of the whole thing.
-
Dave takes the pillow and blanket and curls up on the couch, drained and exhausted and humiliated. He's so fucking tired, all he wants to do is sleep, but sleep doesn't come for him. He lies awake, staring at an unfamiliar ceiling, with the muffled sounds of traffic and people yelling and laughing drifting in from the street. He can't remember the last time he slept somewhere that wasn't his bedroom back at his parents' house.
His parents...
The grief is suddenly overwhelming and Dave squeezes his eyes shut as they fill with tears. He stays still as fat droplets roll down his face and soak into his borrowed pillow. What if his parents never want to see him again? He shouldn't care about that, but he's weak, a sad little baby crying because his family doesn't want him. He shudders and covers his mouth, stifling the sobs that wrack through him.
It feels like it takes hours but eventually his tears run out and he drifts off to sleep, curled in a ball with the blanket pulled up to his nose.