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This Is Heaven, Give It To Me

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[ — record ]

It starts with a broke Taehyung who desperately needs money. Quick. He could have gotten a part-time job but his classes and club activities barely allows him to socialise and have his always needed me-time, so a part-time job? Out of the question; can’t even consider nor think about it.

Admittedly, it hasn’t always been like this— sort of. He’s always been broke, that one is true and has known what sharing minimal food with his siblings and even sacrificing eating so that the other’s can eat. But the past few years has been good to his family and him; his father finding a stable job, his mother keeping her old job and his siblings as healthy as possible.

As a result to their growing secure income, Taehyung has been allowed to go to university despite being rejected when he’s applied for a scholarship. His parents, however, doesn’t allow him to be dejected for too long and has urged him to go with their help.

And so, Taehyung does.

Taehyung is in university now but after two years of depending on his parents, and trying to survive on the money they send him, Taehyung has reached the low point. The desperate point. The point of no return.

Not only has his father lost his job but expenses has increased and Taehyung has not known what to fucking do. He’s choked out an I’ll quit. when his parents called him, to tell him that they won’t be sending as much money or as often but they’ve shushed him with an it’s okay, taehyungie. we’ll get through this and who’s Taehyung to disagree to that? He hasn’t really wanted to drop from university when he’s almost finished with his degree. Because after, he will do all he can to find a job that will pay him good so he can help his family just like he’s helped them.

But he’s on a bind right now and in need Taehyung is a reckless Taehyung.

That’s basically how he ends up in front of his goddamn shitty camera, brows furrowed and a flush climbing up from his neck to the apples of his cheeks that instantly spreads to the tips of his ears. He can’t believe he’s doing this.

His mother would be so disappointed.

So as his father; especially his father. And his siblings, the little angels that they are. If they get to know what Taehyung is about to do, well, he’ll probably be disowned or something in the lines because there’s really nothing to disown except the name he carries with him. They’re poor, money an extreme problem on the daily, barely scraping food for themselves every month but they lived and that’s what matters. They lived properly, not delving into questionable business or borrowing from loan sharks.

But— But Kim Taehyung has to do this. He’s at his wits end and if he doesn’t at least do something, he’d have to drop from university despite his parents encouragement for him to conitnue. He’d have to go home crying, disappointed, ashamed by becoming a fucking failure.

No, he’s not going to do that. So he has to do this.

Swallowing a couple of times, Taehyung shakes his head to get rid of the thoughts invading his mind and instead focuses his attention on the cheap laptop in front of him, with equally low quality camera that he prays would work properly for what he’s about to do. (Admittedly, he’s tried it already, recording himself silly just to make sure nothing would go wrong. He’s good— He’s ready. He’s set. He just has to go.)

"Uhm," Taehyung squints, glances at where the camera is, shy and uncertain. He squints at the screen, scooting closer his bed to read the comments that immediately bombards the chat window. He swallows as his eyes takes in the words of encouragement from complete strangers.

Somehow, there are a lot of them. If ten viewers is a lot (which, in Taehyung’s mediocre knowledge, is really a lot). That’s ten more viewers than he has expected for a first live show. He doesn’t know why and how exactly they found his window but he’s thankful. Kind of; more viewers means more tips and more tips means a not broke Taehyung.

Taehyung reads; you’ve got delicious thighs, babe and instantly glances down at his tanned thighs, clad in short pink shorts, showing off more than he should. He bites at his bottom lip, biting the flesh softly and smiles, says,

"Thank you."

The comments blows up once again but this time, Taehyung ignores them in favour of getting started in what he’s supposed to do and that is to rid himself of his clothes and start touching himself because—

Because being a camboy is apparently Taehyung’s last choice of getting quick money in this world ruled by goddamn capitalism. Taehyung shakes his head and breathes out, clearing his mind of thoughts that isn’t related to porn. He really doesn’t want his boner to go down in the middle of pumping his cock, mind filled with how unfair and corrupt the government is.

Gulping loudly, audible only to his ears but still has his heart pounding inside his chest in nerves, Taehyung slowly peels his white t-shirt off him, avoiding looking at the camera, still shy of baring himself to strangers. Yet, it excites him too. It excites him so bad that he’s already half-hard in his shorts, cock twitching at the thought of touching himself while others watch, wanting to touch but can’t, is not allowed to.

It’s like a fucked up euphemism for art; in which him, the camboy, is the art that no one, the viewers, can touch. There’s an invisible Please don’t touch. Touching can harm the art. plastered on people like him and that’s— well, a relief.

He’s on his back, half laying, half sitting, supported by his elbows. Taehyung starts trailing his hands down his chest, long fingers stopping to flick his nipple, rolling it with his thumb. A moan escapes him, deep and with the hint of need that’s slowly growing inside him, eyes falling shut and head tilting just slightly back and to the side; the move slow, unintentionally sensual, consequently baring his long neck to everyone watching him.

Continuing his actions, he slides a hand down his soft stomach, feeling his muscles constrict at the thought of what he’s about to do next. There’s a stutter in his movements, fingers shaking as he continues to glide a hand down the expanse of his torso, the other hand clutching on the white sheets of his small bed, nails digging on the fabric harshly.

He licks his lips, swollen red from being bitten constantly, before fiddling with the edge of his shorts. He flutters his eyes open, dark with lust and laced with nerves before he flicks his eyes to the laptop screen and reads some of the comments that he can see from the window, the stream of them fast, barely able to last a second on the chat.

- take your shorts off, baby boy.

- let us see your pretty cock.

- you’re so fucking beautiful, I wanna fuck you so hard.

- can you fuck yourself for us, angel?

Catching the last comment, Taehyung nods, head bobbing twice as he groans out, "Y-Yes, please."

Sliding his shorts off his long legs, he discards the garment to the side and lets his legs fall open freely, showing everyone his cock, slowly  hardening into completion. With mind clouded with desire, Taehyung grasps his cock with his slender fingers, grip loose as he stutters out a breath, legs jerking at the cold sensation of his hand on his hot length.

He gulps and thumbs the head, messing the pre-come that has gathered there before he slides his hand to the base of his cock. He whimpers at the sensation, his free hand on the bed clenching his white sheets.

"I’m—" He breathes out, loud enough for his voice to carry towards the camera where everything he’s doing is being published live for everyone to see. For all he knows, his course mates might as well have been watching him and jacking themselves off to Taehyung’s body but he doesn’t dwell on it too hard. Instead, Taehyung continues to pump his cock with his hand coated with pre-come and when the slide is enough, still dry, he whines and brings his hand up, spits on it and promptly continues to jack himself off, wrapping his hand around his cock tightly.

He doesn’t think much while touching himself, just plain picturing random things that makes him shake in pleasure. He thinks of someone holding his legs down as they bob their head, giving him the blowjob of his life. He thinks of hands gliding down his sweat soaked skin, long nails scratching lightly and leaving red marks. He thinks of teeth sinking down his flesh, leaving countless of bruises that would last for days.

Taehyung thinks of anything that he wants to be done to him and his body trembles, mouth falling open in a silent moan. When an elbow supporting his body gives up, he falls to the bed, a surprised squeak leaving his lips. He scoots towards the wall and lets himself slump onto it, legs spread widely in front of the camera. He doesn’t care right now, the desire settling in his veins; as long as he can come, he’ll do anything.

Now with another free hand, he hitches his legs closer to himself, still baring his hard cock and now his needy hole. He sucks three of his fingers in his mouth, wetting them with a great amount of spit, fingers dripping of it when he pulls them back before trailing them down his body and stops to circle his twitching hole. It’s always an amazing sensation fingering himself, fingers wet, hole needy for more.

Taking a deep breath, he furrows his brow before he pushes a finger in, the intrusion feels uncomfortable first but as soon as he relaxes his body, muscles going pliant, the pleasure spikes, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he thrusts his finger in and out of himself. He adds another finger and hisses, whimpering. Still he continues, knowing that soon enough, he’ll get to come. With the third finger slotting along with the two first ones, Taehyung lets himself go, pushing long digits against his prostate, his warm walls clenching while his legs tremble. He continues to pump his cock and the feeling of stimulating himself on both his cock and ass prompts him to let out a litany of loud moans, mouth opened in pleasure as he chases for his release.

When he feels his stomach constrict and his cock twitch in his hand that’s dripping with pre-come, hand now covered with it, he pumps his fingers inside of himself relentlessly until he comes in quick spurts, painting his hand and thigh with streaks of white.

His body shakes in overstimulation as he drags his fingers out of his hole and licks a drop of sweat skirting just on the edge of his lips. Taehyung takes in deep inhales of air, mouth agape, lips swollen, looking all kinds of ruined. When his heavy breaths finally regulates, he opens his eyes and glances at the screen of his laptop. He blinks slightly dazed eyes, watching as the chat window keeps on moving, blurry words undecipherable in Taehyung’s still hazy mind.

Finally letting out a groan of discontent, he crawls closer to the screen, still naked, looking like sin incarnate.

The comments makes him smile; that large boxy smile of his that he’s been told too many times charms people in a heartbeat. The strangers viewing his live aren’t exceptions, immediately falling for that lovely smile of his.

And yes, the money also makes him smile.

Safe to say, it’s a success.

To show his gratitude, he quirks his lips up into a seductive grin and brings his come coated hand to his lips and licks the substance before saying,

"Thank you very much for watching."

[ — scene shift ]

Basically, that’s how Taehyung finds himself in this situation.

Being a camboy is well, fine. He can even stretch it and say that it’s great. Just holding a live four times a week, three hours maximum, gives him enough money to send to his family, pay for his tuitio, rent and other bills, then leaves him an enough amount for food that isn't ramen or rice and soy sauce. Albeit, he actually loves the combination of rice and soy sauce but he gets tired of it. Sometimes.

Now he can buy pizza and chicken and meat which he savours for days because well— he is still a struggling college student. He doesn't want to take anything for granted. Especially his earnings from bearing his naked body for all the world to see.

However great he says becoming a camboy is, being vulnerable in front of the camera doesn't erase the fact that strangers knows Taehyung now, body and face, and can, most possibly, take advantage of his status on the internet. Or Porn World. Whatever. They can very well blackmail him or fuck, even show the university the shows people has most probably recorded for keep sake. Taehyung won't put it past anyone. In fact, someone has stated it on the comment section. Cue shudder.

For right now though, no one knows. At least, none that he knows of or maybe they’re just keeping their mouth shut, less they want Taehyung to stop his shows. Either way, it’s a win-win situation for him— and well, them, so Taehyung takes it. They’re only assumptions but it’s better to think about consequences now than later.

Because Taehyung hates being caught off guard.

Therefore it proves to say that he’s really fucking caught off guard when after a live show, an e-mail appears in his inbox. It looks like spam mail which Taehyung almost ignores and delete quickly but the subject of Good Offer, please consider. has his curiosity boiling to a degree that has caused him to open it.

He’s still naked, skin cooling and flushed from the session that lasted  for one and a half hour, body twitching here and there from the overstimulation that he’s had to endure, the viewers’ comments keeping his orgasm in line with constant promise of more money transferred to his account if he fucks himself with the dildo for another twenty minutes without coming.

Safe to say, Taehyung almost kicked his camera to the ground from the desperation but the thought of money has kept him grounded, gripping his leaking and twitching cock tightly to prevent himself from coming before they tell him to.

Now, Taehyung is more than one hundred thousand won richer and is basking in the intense orgasm he’s just had.

The e-mail comes abrupt and when he opens it, he curses himself, fearing that someone has sent a goddamn virus to him and therefore would know his location, and probably all information about him. But—

But when no virus appears on the screen and his laptop is still intact, Taehyung reads the content carefully, wary as his dark eyes drifts from words to words, trying to comprehend what’s written on the screen.

And holy fuck, a Good Offer indeed but—

Hello, TaeTae,

We have noticed your popularity on our site as a camboy is soaring greatly. Congratulations! You’ve been a dedicated user for a couple of months now and we would like to give you an offer. Here, in our company, we also deal with professional porn videos, as you may know, and we would like for you to try and film a video with us. If it goes well and if you would like to, you can sign a contract with us as a regular actor.

We would love to work with you and do consider our offer. Thank you for your cooperation.

With kind regards,

BigHit Entertainment

The problem is not the letter. In fact, Taehyung’s lips has pulled into a huge smile as he reads the mail, the praises on it waking the previously quiet butterflies on his stomach; now they’re fluttering and making Taehyung feel so content, knowing that his work is appreciated.

Where the problem lies, however, is being a professional pornstar. Taehyung has never thought of it, nor has it crossed his brain. Being a camboy is only a means for now to help his family and to get him through university. He’s not in it for the long run, he never would but the offer has him considering, just for a bit.

What if?

[ action— ]

Indeed, what if.

Because Taehyung doesn’t know what to do after he has read the e-mail for more or less than twenty times, then give or take skimming ten times just to make sure it’s not a spam mail or someone fucking with him or a prank that would land his desperate ass on jail. After a couple more reads and staring contest with the screen of his phone, the words staring back at him like cheerful professional swirls, he finally has deemed it Legit and therefore started thinking of the offer more seriously.

He truly doesn’t know what to fucking do, so he ignores the mail for a week, going about his business peacefully with the offer in the back of his mind, nagging at him constantly. But with university projects, club activities, and a little socialising plus his four times a week live cam shows, Taehyung really doesn’t have that much time to contemplate about it.

Right now, he’s stretched on his bed, new camera on the equally new tripod set just a couple of feet from him, giving everyone the full view of his lithe body, all soft tanned lines stretched on the white sheets, muscles straining as his legs tremble with every move of his left arm, pushing the vibrator deeper inside of his ass while his right hand pumps his hard cock leaking pre-come, sliding down the twitching length, coating the base of his cock.

He moans when a particular shove hits his prostate spot on, the action making him tremble, as well as the vibrations coming from the plastic artificial cock slotted inside him perfectly, a tight fit against his tight walls. His stomach clenches, muscles straining while the pleasure intensifies, toes curling as he repeats the action once again, thrusting the toy inside him deeper and harder while the grip on his cock tightens, his thumb pushing on the wet slit.

"Fuck," He groans, tilts his head to the side, sweat sliding from the other temple to the opposite, eyes dark from arousal staring at the camera, sultry, seductive, all fucking temptation incarnate. "I’m going to come," He voices out louder, fucking the toy inside him faster, the pressure on his core building as he chases his orgasm.

His eyes catches the chat window on his laptop perched on a stool by his bed, the words of encouragement from his viewers hard to read from this far but the fast activity of the window is telling enough that they are enjoying his show, as much as he is enjoying it.

Taehyung isn’t really an exhibitionist. But maybe, perhaps, he actually is.

When the desire becomes more unbearable, he pushes the toy deeper, moves his hips with it, meets his own thrusts and hits the bundle of nerves inside him with precision every time. He digs the nail on his thumb on the slit of his cock, pumps the hard length a couple more times and shoves the toy inside his tight walls a few times before his stomach clenches, body tensing and he’s coming on his hand and quivering core, white streaks of come painting his tanned skin glistening with sweat, beads trailing down the soft sheets, his mouth slipping out a series of groans, morphing into quiet needy whimpers.

His thighs are trembling from the force of his orgasm, prompting him to take a moment to just let himself bask in the aftermath of his release and ignores the multiple pings that tells him he’s received more tips on his account than before. The sound, however, makes his lips quirk into a content and blissed out smile as his body settles down, his tight walls continuing to clench around the still vibrating toy slotted inside him but now switched on the lowest setting and still stimulating him as he comes down from his high, making his body twitch in overstimulation and the feeling of fullness never actually leaving.

A minute passes as he lays there before he heaves a deep breath and turns the vibrator off before he takes it out of his asshole with a hiss, the drag easy from the amount of lube he’s used, obscene squelch heard through the room when he tugs it out of his rim, popping off with a sound that has him shivering, hole fluttering and now feeling immensely empty.

He sighs, sits up and throws the toy on the floor carelessly before he crawls to his laptop in all his naked and sweaty and content glory, cheekbones still tinged red, lips plump and swollen from being bitten and hair a mess on top of his head. The chat window is still fast with activity. He reads a few of them, smiling at the camera as he does so;

- you look so amazing cumming, baby boy.
- fuck, i want to ruin you so bad
- i came so hard on my pants, what the fuck
- my roommate barged inside and saw me watching then joined, wow
- tipped you a 100, angel.

Reading the last comment, Taehyung tilts his head to the camera once again, large eyes forming into small crescents as he gives his viewers a wide boxy smile, his teeth showing, gratitude coming off of him in waves.

He says, "Thank you so much."

The chat window explodes with a you’re welcome, sweetheart and you’re so fucking sexy and can’t wait for your next show! which Taehyung gives them an eager thumb ups that feels more sticky than comfortable, fingers still coated with lube and come.

When he reads the chat once again, he catches a comment before blinking and double takes, reading it again. It’s on the very top now, almost disappearing but he catches it and it has his breath hitching, heart pounding inside his chest wildly, the letter from a week ago coming to the forefront of his mind.

- Please accept the offer, TaeTae.

Taehyung bites his lower lip, nibbling on it before he inhales a shaky breath and turns to the camera fully.

"Alright," He says, less hesitant than the first time he’s done this. "That’s all for today. Thank you for watching my cam and for the tips. See you later."

He blows a kiss to the camera before ending his live show, breath now starting to come in puffs as his mind travels a mile a minute.

Please accept the offer.

Please accept.


Taehyung, again, thinks, what if?

[ action— ]

"You okay, babe?"


"Words, love."

Taehyung blinks his eyes open, beams and says, "Fucking okay, baby."

A deep thrust is delivered before he even finishes his reply, the words following okay bleeding into a moan as the cock inside him hits his prostate again, pushing deeper, harsher. His cock is leaking on his stomach, untouched and he wants to pump it, thumb on the slit and make himself come while his walls clench on the cock slotted inside him. However, he can’t and it only makes him let out a sound that’s a mix of a growl and a whine, the man above him letting out a deep chuckle that vibrates against his chest, sweat rolling down the heated skin.

"Fuck, yes. Harder, harder."

At his command, the guy pounds his ass harder, shifting his body up the bed that’s almost creaking from the force of the man’s actions. Taehyung only clutches on broad shoulders, nails digging on sweaty flesh, leaving small indents that would last for a day or two. The thought has him feeling exhilarated, breaths coming out as moans that turns into mewls when the cock inside him hits his sensitive prostate, his tight walls clenching around the length as he tightens his thighs around the other’s narrow waist.

The air in the room is heavy, laced with tension, with sweat, with sex and Taehyung can’t get enough of it. He flutters his eyes shut for a moment, long neck stretching and back arching at the delicious angle the cock inside him is hitting. He lets out a groan before lifting his lids, takes in the sight of the man above him and pulls him in a fierce kiss; all tongues and teeth and spit slipping out of the corners of their lips and muffled moans swallowed by each other.

"Hyung, come on," Taehyung tugs on the other’s hair, making him grunt and prompting a small smirk to curl on Taehyung’s lips.

"Coming for me, Tae?" He thrusts harsher, grip on Taehyung’s hips tight, the pads of his fingers digging deep enough to bruise Taehyung’s tanned flesh. "Come, Taehyungie. Come for Bogum hyung."

"Oh, fuck," Taehyung hisses, pulls Bogum into another deep kiss, teeth clamping on Bogum’s lower lip harsh enough to split the swollen flesh before his body tenses, hard and twitching cock now gripped by Bogum and pumping rapidly.

A few pumps and a hard thrust of the other’s dick is all it takes for Taehyung to come, muscles locking in place, toes curling and thighs tightening around Bogum’s waist. He comes in quick spurts, white staining Bogum’s calloused hand, tight walls clenching around the cock inside him as a keen escapes past his lips and delivered into Bogum’s own.

Bogum pumps his spent cock a few more times, milking Taehyung’s orgasm as he continues to thrust his cock inside the tight walls gripping his length tightly. Taehyung breathes in, eyes shut, revels in the orgasm before he focuses his gaze on the other, clenches his sensitive hole around Bogum’s cock with a content smile on his face as Bogum gazes back at him, lips a hair breadth from his.

"Inside?" Bogum asks, mouths at the corner of Taehyung’s lips as his thrusts becomes erratic.

Taehyung moans at the continuous action, over-stimulated, but he manages a nod, murmurs on Bogum’s lips, "Come inside, hyungie."

With that, Bogum thrusts quicker, chasing his own release before coming inside Taehyung with a strained moan, body shaking as he continues moving in small thrusts inside the other. The feeling of Bogum’s come painting his tight, sensitive walls has Taehyung gripping Bogum closer to him, lips in between his teeth as sensitivity intensifies and he’s almost sobbing from it.

When the both of them finally comes down from the high of their orgasms, they lay on the bed quietly side by side, staring at the ceiling with heaving chest and deep breaths of inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale, now left to their own thoughts.

And Taehyung’s thoughts are again bombarded with that e-mail and he can’t keep quiet about it. He feels his nerves spike up once again, gone is the high from his release, replaced by anxiety.

He starts, "Hyung."

Bogum hums, taps his fingers on Taehyung’s soft tummy, replies, "Yeah."

Taehyung squirms closer, throws a thigh on Bogum’s hips and murmurs against his damp flesh, "I got an offer."

"Offer?" Bogum quirks a brow, head tilting to the side just slightly to gaze at Taehyung, inquisitive. "What offer?"

Taehyung tries to calm himself but his heart just won’t stop beating erratically, trying to escape from his chest with the constant pounding while he opens his mouth, forces himself to utter the words because he needs to voice them out or else he’ll be consumed by it and what if his decision is wrong?

He needs a second opinion in the form of the person who’s introduced him to being a camboy.

"You know, that— uh, site that you showed me? That camboy thing… thingy. They offered—" He pauses, licks his lips nervously, continues, "They sent me a letter and asked if I wanted to be a— uhm, pornstar?"

The last word has been uttered so quietly, almost inaudible, but Taehyung is whispering on Bogum’s skin and the older catches it, and by the time he processes what Taehyung has said, a minute has passed and Taehyung is already regretting telling him about it.

"I mean, I don’t know— I don’t know what to do? It’s good money, yeah? I’d be able to help my family but do you think, do you think, it’s— good? Good? Hyung?" Taehyung rambles, babbling as Bogum furrows his brows and breathes out deeply.

Finally, Bogum says, "Tae, it’s your choice." He smiles, rubbing soothing circles on Taehyung’s bare thigh that’s thrown on top of him. "It’s shady, yes, being a pornstar isn’t easy. You’d have to deal with a lot of things but in the end, it’s your choice. Not mine or other people’s. If you need to or want to, go for it. Just make sure you’re safe."

Taehyung allows a breath of relief escape his mouth, lips planting a soft kiss on Bogum’s collarbone before saying, "I will, stay safe."

"And," Bogum adds, insists, voice laced with demand, "I didn’t show you that camboy site for you to abuse it and become a pornstar of all things but I don’t regret it. Just— please, Taehyung, be careful. Always. Call me if anything happens."

A giggle escapes Taehyung, the sound morphing into laughters because his chest is so full, and he’s so fucking relieved that at least, one person supports him. The only person that actually knows about his predicament and he’s glad he’s decided to tell him about it.

"Of course," He replies, boxy smile on his face. He shifts and straddles Bogum, hands planting on the other’s chest, rubbing softly as he grins coy, eyes dilating dark, heavy. "I’ll be careful, hyung and I’ll call and tell you everything, from the signing to the filming and how bad my partner is."

Bogum laughs, the sound settling on Taehyung’s chest and he’s so fond, so grateful. He plants a lasting kiss on Bogum’s swollen red lips that’s still formed into a smile and says, full of gratitude,

"Thank you."

[ — scene shift ]

Replying to the e-mail almost two weeks later sounds so unprofessional, and Taehyung almost chickens out of it, closing the window after he’s moved his hovering fingers off of his outdated laptop’s keyboard after ten minutes - and counting - of internal contemplation. His heart is beating wildly inside his chest, nervous from what he’s about to do but he’s going to do it. He will and he can and he’s going to not regret it one minute after he’s send the reply.

So he writes, starts with,


I accept the offer.

With Regards,


But then he erases the whole thing because what kind of professionalism is that? Taehyung is not taking a Bachelor in Science Nursing as Major and Education as Minor just so he can write a letter that screams of anxiety and unprofessionalism and basically awkwardness.

So he starts again, now with,

Good day, sir,

I apologise for answering the letter this late. I had some engagements to settle and didn’t have anytime to reply quickly. Regarding your offer, I accept it fully. However, I want to know what it entails, how much it pays and if it is truly safe. I hope in hearing from you soon.

With regards,


After five times of proofreading the e-mail, Taehyung finally sends it with trembling fingers, heart stuck in his throat and eyes twitching horribly like he’s got some goddamn five eyelashes stuck in there. Once the notification of it being sent flashes in front of Taehyung’s sight, he instantly throws his body on his small bed, covers himself with a pillow and screams on it loudly, the break in his deep voice muffled by the fabric of his pillow case.

Admittedly, Taehyung regrets doing it one minute after he’s send the reply.

Nothing to do with it now but wait for the company to answer back, hoping that he wasn't too late but also that he was too late.

It’s a push and pull kind of thing. His mind is in chaos and with projects being due soon and exams coming, Taehyung really doesn’t have anytime to dwell on it. He’ll think about it later.

Yeah, later.


Later doesn’t come quickly because two days after the incident, he still hasn’t gotten a reply and even though his chest feels tight, and his head is pounding from copious amount of cheap coffee as well as ramen and too salty bread, he still has shows to perform.

He’s surprised his account hasn’t been deleted or that he’s blocked from the site. Granted, why would they do that? But in Taehyung’s case, he’s experienced too many horrible things to expect more horrible things to come his way. He’s thankful this isn’t one of them.

The show is—

The show is interesting because someone from the last show he has done has requested a specific outfit for him to try on, promising a huge tip if he does it. Taehyung is all for money, desperate for cash and what harm can a few tweaks of his usual clothes do, anyway? None, he’s concluded. Because in the end, he’ll still end up naked, for all the world to see.

No biggy.

"Hi," He says, lips quirking into a coy smile as he watches the chat window start filling in with comments. "So, I’m doing something new today. I hope, uh, you like it."

Bogum once has told him to not become so familiar with his viewers, to not encourage them further with talks, just actions yet Taehyung always finds himself conversing with them, reading their comments, their praises. As much as he doesn’t want to, he’s unable to disregard the words shooting back at him from the screen and Taehyung is just too fucking nice to not say anything. It’s in his blood to offer a cheerful boxy smile and to reply with words of encouragement eagerly and to voice out his gratitude.

He watches his laptop screen for a few moments, ignoring the stifled air in his small room, cursing himself inwardly for forgetting to air out before he starts his show. Now he’s left with the start of sweat gathering on his brows and breathing in the multiples of books and papers and inks and leftover cold coffee and uncapped bottle of soy sauce littered around his room, away from the view of the camera.

It’s not the perfect environment, far from it, to hold a show but as long as he doesn’t show the viewers the mess behind the camera, it’s fine. All they need to see is Taehyung and all Taehyung has to do is perform.

He’s a great performer.

When the tips displayed on the screen reaches the goal, he grins at the camera, fiddles with his white robe before winking and crawling on top of his bed slowly, tanned soft thighs slightly straining as he continues to move until he’s leaning on his headboard.

He closes his eyes, imagines he’s not being watched by more than twenty people now compared to the ten or fifteen before, and lets himself picture a setting that gets him going.

Licking his lips, he bends his legs, lets his robe fall to the sides and allows the viewers a peek of what’s underneath. He grins when multiples of pings graces his ears, pride blooming in his chest at the probable positive reaction he’s getting by what they are seeing.

Taehyung breathes in deeply before unraveling the robe completely, letting it fall from his relaxed shoulders to the bed, long arms slipping from it slowly while still keeping his eyes shut. The nightie hanging off him is soft and lace and violet, almost non-existent to the touch. It’s transparent, showing the lace panties under that has been hard to buy because that is not his size.

All in all, his nerves are spiking because he’s not as comfortable wearing something that is— not for him and it’s the first time he has worn something like it. He’s not even considered wearing fucking lace before this, or any women’s clothing with the exception of heels because heels are fucking cool.

So, yes, he’s more or less quite uncomfortable with what he’s wearing, feeling like his masculinity is dipping lower than the lowest degree of temperature ever recorded but he’s also feeling his confidence rise up from the pit of his stomach, up to his chest, being stuck on his throat, settling under his skin and gradually replacing his hesitance with assurance.

Taehyung is slowly getting used to the thought of wearing lace and maybe next time silk or something that challenges his confidence and the level of comfortability he is at ease with.

Despite being all kinds of out of loops due to his outfit, he still gathers his courage to lift his eyes and stare at the camera, lips quirked into a soft smirk while his hand trails up from his bent thigh up to his lace covered stomach. He lifts the nightie a little, spreads his legs wider, giving everyone a clear sight of what really is underneath.

His cock is slowly hardening, and his breaths are coming out in small puffs while he continues to trail his long fingers up his body, stopping to tweak his hard nipples under the lace fabric, pinching a couple of times and eliciting a deep series of moans from his mouth, lips wet with spit and parted as his body twitches in anticipation for more.

Dragging his fingers up, he shoves two inside his mouth, wetting them carefully, surely, while moaning around it. Consequently, he moves further down the bed, almost laying on it instead of sitting, nightie bunching up his hips as his thighs moves further from each other, his cock straining against the panties now on full show, leaking pre-come on the fabric of his soft clothing.

He bobs his head back and forth his fingers, slotting a third, ignoring the spit trailing down his chin, down to his glistening neck. It’s hot— hotter than when he’s started and the sweat that has gathered on his forehead now forms beads, slipping down his temple and down his prominent cheekbones. He squirms, thrusts his hips up in pleasure as he moans around his fingers, desperate for more stimulation.

Taehyung wants more and the drag of the nightie, the feeling of his cock straining against his panties makes the pleasure building inside him intensify.

He needs more.


More in the form of his fingers coated in lube shoving inside his twitching hole, tight walls clenching desperately around long digits as he wiggles them, looking for his prostate. He’s on all fours now, nightie shoved up to his back and chest, hanging off him like a curtain, and panties down to the middle of his thighs, stained with pre-come from his leaking cock, stretched immensely from his thick legs being spread as far as they can go so the viewers can see his fingers slipping in and out of his lubed hole, so wet, so fucking good.

"Oh," He moans, body tensing for a beat as the tips of his fingers hits his prostate, brushing on it momentarily before his tense muscles relaxes and his movements commences, fingers scissoring his entrance, hips thrusting back as he continues to fuck himself relentlessly.

He could hear numerous pings from his laptop, and he tilts his head, glances at the screen, squinting his dark half-lidded eyes, trying to make out the words in between letting out loud moans that will surely let his neighbours know what he’s doing. He doesn’t particularly care right now because his thighs are trembling from his position, his blunt fingers dragging in and out of his tight walls, the pleasure settling on his stomach intensifying the longer he fucks his fingers inside himself.

A sentence catches his attention from the screen of his laptop, prompting him to bite and lick his plump lips before he nods, spreads his legs wider, stretches the panties until it’s leaving obvious red indents on his thighs, and digs the side of his face deeper onto the mattress while repeating the sentence inside his mind.

- Add another finger inside your tight wet hole, baby boy.

And who’s Taehyung to disobey? Following instructions from his viewers means more tips. So he does just that.

"Okay," he whispers to himself before taking a deep breath, letting it out in a loud whoosh, calming his heart that’s beating abnormally wildly inside his chest.

He sucks on his lower lip, trapping the swollen flesh between his teeth before he takes out the fingers inside him with a loud squelch then reaches with a trembling hand for the half-empty bottle of vanilla flavoured lube. He leans on his elbows carefully, drizzles a large amount of lube on his hands, the kind of large amount that has his palms so wet and dripping like his cock spurting pre-come on his tummy, before warming them quickly, wiggling his hips for the mean time and letting the viewers watch his gaping hole twitch, waiting for what he is going to do next.

Deeming the liquid warm enough, Taehyung looks at the laptop screen, then to the camera, twitches his lips into a coy smile before he slips the three fingers inside him easily, thrusting slowly, readying himself for what’s about to come next.

He groans loudly, beads of sweat trailing down his spine as his body quivers while adding another finger, the fit tight, so tight because Taehyung’s fingers are bony, long, slender, fucking huge but it’s also so fucking good, the exhilarating feeling of trying new things buzzing through his body, his system, his bloodstream.

Thrusting the four fingers inside him, he can’t help but wiggle his hips, the nightie slipping further down his back as he curves his spine, ass up, face down, chest glued to the mattress and cock twitching against his soft stomach. He curls his fingers inside him, eliciting a jerk of his body and a loud strangled moan that catches in his throat, eyes shutting tightly at the pleasure coursing through his veins.

It’s so fucking amazing, the feeling of controlling his own desire, and it might not be the same with a cock pounding his hole but it’s enough to make his body shake in desperation. He licks his lips, clutches on the sheet with his free hand, as he curbs that desperation for a while, preventing himself from releasing against his clenched stomach.

There’s still more he has to do, one last thing, and before he does it, he moves a hand to pump his wet cock, whispers a quiet right to himself, mind clearing momentarily at the prospect of what he’s next actions, and proceeds to slightly slip out the four fingers inside his tight hole, the tips catching on the rim.

His throat is goddamn tight when he slowly, slowly, slots his thumb beside the fingers almost slipping past his rim. He clenches his jaw, pauses, takes a deep breath then slips the finger further; careful, slow, deliberate. In the background, he can hear the never-ending pings from the chat window on his laptop screen and he doesn’t know if they’re encouragement or whatnot but he ignores them and continues to enter his whole goddamn hand inside him, breathing heavily, body almost wound tight but relax enough for his wet hand to slip inside him with a wet pop.

Holy fucking Shit.

It’s so goddamn tight and painful, the feeling new to him; his walls are warm around his hand that’s curled into an almost soft fist, digits not quite curling against his palm yet but he’ll work on that. His fingers twitches inside him, prompting his body to jerk, almost making him shove his hand further inside him in a quick movement. Everything is fucking new, the feeling is fucking new and he can’t comprehend how that’s possible but it is and all he can do is let out a groan when his hand finally settles inside him.

Taehyung takes a moment to gather himself, to relax his body further, enough so he can move his hand. When he finally feels like his muscles aren’t going to snap from being wound so tightly, he starts moving his arm, small thrusts at first, testing the waters. It’s different from a cock pounding in him or a toy being shoved past his entrance. It’s like something is lodged inside him that he can’t push out but it also feels too fucking foreign and good to lose the feeling.

His mouth parts when he slowly picks up the rhythm, fingers moving from each other inside himself, just a tad slightly, causing his hips to quiver and him to elicit a loud whimper that originates deep from his core.

"Oh fucking god," He groans, loud enough for the sound to reach the camera and for perhaps the whole city to hear.

It doesn’t matter. Nothing matters at this point but the desire slowly building inside him.

There’s pain in the way his wrists slips deeper inside him and that his fingers are fucking long and bony but it’s also pleasurable in the way that Taehyung has never had something so huge inside him before and it’s a new experience that has his heart picking up from its already fast beat. His golden skin is almost red from head to toe, slicked and dripping with sweat on soft sheets under him.

Another groan comes out of his mouth when he starts thrusting his fist faster, still shallow movements but enough to stimulate his prostate, fingers hitting the bundle of nerves with precision. He pumps his cock along with his thrusts, smearing the pre-come leaking from the tip along his throbbing length, fingers pumping from the top to the base.

He can feel his orgasm nearing, walls clenching around his hand, his wrist, and cock twitching, angry red, hot to the touch on his own palm. He moans a litany of fuckfuckfuck as he digs his thumb on the tip of his cock, and simultaneously parts his fingers from each other in the confines of his tight walls. His mind clouds in the burst of pleasure that shoots down his spine, lips parted, spit trailing down the corners of his lips as he loses himself in the movements of his own fingers.

He doesn’t care that his arms are getting tired from moving; he has forgotten the audiences that’s gradually increasing as he continues to shove his fist inside his asshole. All he wants right fucking now is to come. He can feel it in the pit of his stomach, the orgasm slowly building.

When he finally releases, it’s to his fingers abusing his prostate and to his hand pumping his cock relentlessly and to his own loud moan morphing into a needy whimper. He releases on his hand, on his stomach and on the sheets under him, his stretched hole clenching around his wrist as his body convulses in an intense orgasm.

White spots dances in the forefront of his eyes, tightly shut, mouth parted as he gulps much needed air. His skin is wet with sweat, goosebumps raising a minute after his release, body twitching horribly and both arms almost numb from being used in such angles that he hasn’t even thought of trying before.

Taehyung pumps his cock two more times, milking his release before he lets it go. He’s careful in taking his hand out of his ass, taking in a deep breath before pushing, letting his knuckle slip slowly out of him. It’s a little painful, oversensitive from his orgasm but he makes it work, fingers slipping out his rim one by one until his slicked hand is out completely. His fucking asshole is gaping, but it’s worth it.

It’s always worth it when finally, after a few minutes of regaining his strength and basking in his release, the pings of multiple messages, along with tips, graces his ears.

Taehyung glances at his laptop screen, the chat window brimming with activity. The viewers has grown in the time he’s lost himself in shoving his whole hand inside himself but it’s— it’s okay, he guesses. Actually, it’s amazing because more viewers means more money on his PayPal account.

He heaves another deep breath before he forces his aching body to crawl to where his laptop is perched on a chair. The viewers can still see him; the mess that he is but he ignores that fact. After all, they have seen Taehyung in all his glory, gaping asshole and twitching dick and broken moans all at the same time.

Once he’s in front of the laptop, he tilts his head, glances to the camera slightly, grins at it lazily before he reads the comments.

There are fucking many praising his show. He reads some of them, as always.

- well done, baby boy
- you were amazing today as well, love.
- fuck u’re so hot w ur fist inside ur asshole, wtf
- tipped u a 200, angel.
- great show, taetae!

And well, the 200 means fucking two hundred thousand Won, enough to last him a month, possibly and Taehyung can live with that. If shoving his whole damn fist inside his ass would get him more of that money, then okay.

Taehyung blows a breath of air, shifts his attention to the camera, grins his adorable boxy smile, cheeks still red from exertion, and in a voice sounding wrecked as all hell, says,

"Thank you for watching! And for the tips! See you next time."

He leaves a few seconds in between his goodbye before cutting the connection off.

"Huh," He whispers, laughs to himself and says, "Next time. Hmm."

Because next time is unknown.

If the Porn Company replies soon, Taehyung doesn’t know when next time is or at all.

He doesn’t care. As long as he gets money from anything; fast and quick to his bank account, he doesn’t care.

Once he’s completed his education, his degree, he’ll stop this. He will and he’ll bury the information to where someone can’t dig them any longer.


He really hopes.

[ — scene shift ]

Sometimes, Taehyung is paranoid.

When he trudges down his shitty apartment of one bedroom, one bathroom, one kitchen, one small bed and enough space for all his heavy books, he thinks that people are looking at him, judging-like, with eyes shooting lasers that could send him six feet under due to embarrassment.

He walks down the stairs and greets the old woman who owns the building with his usual sunshine smile, asking her about her day before he continues to walk to university, barely catching his first lecture because he just has to fucking pet every goddamn dog he passes by.

It’s fine.

But when he enters the lecture hall, sans professor who’s more late than him, Taehyung feels like all the eyes in the big auditorium is on him, scrutinising his every move, like they expect him to suddenly shove a huge dildo up his ass in the centre of the platform.

Taehyung can’t help but feel suspicious towards his course mates, their judging eyes trained on him. Or maybe not? He doesn’t really know, or he doesn’t dare confirm. Instead, he ignores the stares and lets his boxy smile grace his features, greets his friends, and sits beside them, taking out his notebook and pens.

Jeonghan says, "You look tired."

Taehyung flicks his eyes at him, cocks a brow as he nibbles on the top of his pen, replies after a beat, "I am tired."

Jisoo butts in from beside Jeonghan, leaning on the table in front of him, elbows on top and chin perched on his hands, "Well, why?"

Taehyung scrunches his nose, bites the end of the pen then lets go of it, examines his two friends and says, "Work."

"Work?" Both of them chorus, disbelief colouring their voices.

"Wait," Jeonghan tilts his head, taps his fingers on the table in slow rhythm, "You never said you worked. You particularly said you don’t have time to work."

Fuck, is the first thing that comes to Taehyung’s mind. Shit, is the second and Relax, is the third because he can’t let them know of his— work.

Despite being a general sociable guy, approachable to many, Taehyung is still someone who keeps a tight knit of friends. He’s only got Jeonghan and Jisoo, meeting them two years ago, when he’s a clueless boy, dreaming of teaching children and having a family of his own. He doesn’t want to lose them if ever they find out the kind of work that he does on the side, almost fully once he checks his e-mail later.

"Uh," Taehyung starts, fleets his eyes to the side as he chews on his lower lip, now tapping his pen against his notebook. "Well, see—"

He’s about to say something in the lines of haha, no i was lying. was just tired from doing projects when the door to the room opens with a loud bang and in come their lecturer, looking ruffled, sheepish smile on his face.

Thus, the lecture commences and Taehyung is saved from telling his friends empty lies through gritted teeth, clenched jaw and forced smile.

He puffs out a breath of relief.

Today, he’s saved.



Taehyung snaps his head up, eyes as wide as they can go when he registers the nickname because no, he doesn’t use taetae in normal life, in general setting, whatsoever. TaeTae is his camboy nickname and no one calls him that.

Not in real life, anyways.

The paranoia rises from the core of his stomach, up to his throat and he’s frozen in the middle of the corridor, students walking past him, some bee lining and giving him odd stares. More paranoia when the stares pierces through him, making his golden skin flush red in an instant.

He’s fucked up all that he has worked for, has he?

Another call sends his heart almost leaping out of his chest, "TaeTae!"

Fuck, he can’t do this.

His fingers trembles while clutching the strap of his messenger bag, eyes falling shut as his muscles lock in place. He can feel his breath coming in small puffs and perhaps, maybe, mayhaps, he’s having a panic attack. Taehyung doesn’t know because he’s never had one, never has a reason to enter one until now.

All he can think right now is fuck, fucked up, shit, messed up, and a slew of curses that his lips doesn’t have any energy to utter. His mouth is set into a tight line, teeth grinding against each other as the ringing in his ears intensifies. He can hear his heart beating against his ears as well, the drum of thud thud thud loud, telling him that this is real and no, he’s not conjuring up things like being caught red handed masturbating on live camera.

Someone knows him on the outside.

That shit isn’t fucking fine.


A hand shakes his body and Taehyung trembles, gasping for air before his lids opens abrupt and his head turns to the person holding on to his biceps.

"Hoseok—" He croaks, voice halting as he coughs violently before he takes a deep breath, heart still beating harshly inside his chest. "Hoseok-hyung?"

Hoseok tilts his head, sunny smile on his handsome features, says, "TaeTae."

His mind reels because what. No.

"Don’t call me that," Taehyung forces out, tries to relax himself because it’s just— just Hoseok.

Hoseok who’s helped him with his project before; who has stayed up with him late at nights to watch Korean Dramas in the spare time that they really don’t have. Hoseok who has helped him more times than Taehyung can count.

His muscles soften, the tension leaving as his mind settles down. He smiles at Hoseok then, watches the other’s brows furrow at his request before the smile on Hoseok’s face stretches into a wide grin, almost mocking.

Hoseok says, "Nope." He lets go of Taehyung’s elbow and gestures for him to follow, starting to walk down the corridor. "Don’t want to."

Taehyung follows the older as he groans, appalled, mock annoyed. "Why the fuck not?"

"Because," Hoseok starts, glances at him from his periphery and the gaze is knowing, like he’s figured all of Taehyung’s deepest secrets in just that one simple side gaze. "It’s your nickname."

Taehyung halts in his steps, stares at Hoseok wide-eyed, grits out despite his heart commencing its harsh beating, "What."

"I know," Hoseok says, simple, a statement. "I was the one who sent you the mail."

And there’s no other fucking mail in Taehyung’s life but that e-mail.

"I—" Taehyung starts, purses his lips, eyes Hoseok suspiciously. "You weren’t."

Hoseok continues to grin, says, "Oh, I was." He steps closer to Taehyung, tip-toes to meet Taehyung’s own forehead, looking small yet profound, confident. "Good day, sir? That was professional, Tae."

Taehyung remembers; has fucking memorised his own reply to the offer and— well, good day sir is, indeed, too professional.

"Why," Taehyung asks instead, refusing to back down from Hoseok’s teasing gaze. He stands on his full height, prompting Hoseok to click his tongue and tip-toe further just so he can stare at Taehyung’s face in the closest proximity possible. A hair’s breadth away.

Taehyung’s face slowly blooms into a blush, and despite of his body’s reaction to Hoseok’s closeness.

"Why?" Hoseok repeats, nudges his nose against Taehyung’s own like they are a couple and not talking about Taehyung’s entrance to Porn Industry. "Because, Tae," Hoseok begins, grins, voice soft. "You’re interesting and beautiful. I can’t believe I’ve only seen your live show twice."

"Huh," Taehyung blinks, almost reels back from Hoseok’s breath smelling of mint but he stands his ground, curls his hands into soft fists, ignores the flush intensifying on his face, says, "And?"

"And," Hoseok cheers before the grin falls from his face and he says, voice serious, eyes deep, dark and intense, boring holes onto Taehyung’s face, "And you are meeting one of the managers later. We have to actually cast you, see what you can do in a professional setting and not just from your shitty apartment. You pass, we hire you, you shoot your first video in your terms, sign a contract, yadda yadda." Hoseok licks his lips, Taehyung following the action before the older stops tip-toeing and plants his heels back on the floor. "You in?"

Taehyung’s mind is reeling, trying to decipher what has been said, what has happened, what is being said and what is actually happening.

You in? Taehyung repeats in his head, lower lip in between his teeth.

But the most important thing, Taehyung concludes, is this;


Hoseok laughs, head thrown back, looking like he’s heard the best joke of the century. Taehyung, however, isn’t fucking joking. This is his living; his rent, tuition, food. There’s nothing to joke about Taehyung’s safety which regards to money.

He throws Hoseok a sharp glare, immediately shutting the other up. "So?"

Hoseok hums, crosses his arms in front of his chest, replies, "Good money."

"Okay," Taehyung says, nods.

Hoseok cocks a brow, repeats, "Okay?"

"Yeah," Taehyung nods again, albeit feeling hesitant. Still, he says, "Okay."

Hoseok grins at him like the cat that has caught the mice.

Taehyung just might have signed his soul to the devil.

[ — scene shift ]

Taehyung has scheduled a show the day an e-mail - different to the confirmation e-mail that he’s received following Hoseok’s revelation, comes to his mailbox - making his phone vibrate in his pocket while he slaves over a book in the early seven in the morning air, reading about the human anatomy and memorising once again all two hundred and six bones.

He’s whispering, "Scaphoid, Lunate, Triquetrum, Pisiform—" He pauses, throws his head in a bark of laughter because, "Pisiform— what, I knew that. Yeah, I do. Ha."

And yes, he lacks sleep because he’s nervous of his exams and all the lectures, seminars, possible internship in the future, not to mention the e-mail. His mind hasn’t shut up since days ago and Taehyung is exhausted to the very last marrow of his bones. He can’t even take memorising the human skeleton seriously; every few minutes making him snort at the words floating in front of his eyes and gluing themselves in his mind.

Admittedly, he needs coffee but Taehyung is— well, he’s almost out of money and the rent for his apartment, and multiple bills are due soon so he doesn’t buy more coffee. He’ll wait for his bills to arrive then he can splurge on cheap coffee, the way he’s always done.

He’s about to change pages when his phone vibrates beside him, breaking him out of his thoughts and shifting his attention to it. Glancing at the screen, he blinks at the preview of the e-mail, deciphers what it is about and promptly scuffles to his feet, hitting his toe on the edge of his second-hand - possibly third-hand - coffee table before grabbing his phone, unlocking it and reading the e-mail from BigHit Ent.

It’s Hoseok, he figures, when the email starts with,


Meet Seokjin-hyung in the address I’ve attached to this e-mail. He’s your temporary manager, possible permanent if you get casted.

See you later!

There’s not even a proper with regards or that professionalism that Hoseok has shown from earlier mails. Now that he’s outed himself, he’s being too familiar with Taehyung, especially about becoming a pornstar.

Taehyung doesn’t know what to make of that.

He ignores it of course because he’s got twenty more pages to read before he meets the so called Seokjin and sign himself to Satan himself. It’s— It’s fine, he guesses.

Absolutely fine.


"Uh, Seokjin— hyung?"

Broad shoulders twitches before the man clad in soft beige sweater and tight black jeans with soft looking hair turns to Taehyung. When they’re finally facing each other, Taehyung can’t help but stare because Seokjin is a handsome man; beautiful even. He could pass up as a model, so what is he doing managing pornstars? Taehyung wonders but doesn’t ask verbally. He’s not about to make a bad impression on someone who’s going to manage his career— or something.

The thought makes his chest squirm, throat closing up.

Seokjin smiles at him, eyes soft, yet stern. It’s in between and Taehyung relaxes and simultaneously becomes cautious, eyes continuing to examine the male in front of him.

"Hi," Seokjin says, soft. "Taehyung, yes?"

Taehyung nods, almost shy, and pulls the ends of the sweater he’s wearing, covering his hand from the cool wind whipping against them.

"That’s me," He says, shoulders moving up in a short shrug.

"Right," Seokjin continues to smile, says, "I’ll be your temporary manager until you’re hopefully casted. But I’m not worried. Hoseok has told us you’re good and you are beautiful, pretty, so in no time, I’ll be your permanent manager."

"Oh," Taehyung blinks at him, processes the words said and snorts at the compliment. He’s heard that already from Hoseok but Taehyung doesn’t take them seriously. It’s all lip service, a way to drag him further down - or up - towards the Porn Industry. "Right," He offers a small smile, nods. "So, what now?"

Seokjin grins at him, "Now, we’re heading to the company. Let’s see your skills, Taehyung-ah."

Taehyung doesn’t have fucking skills.

Instead of voicing that thought out, he offers yet another smile, this time tight lipped with brows inching up, showing his slight amusement and consequently, hesitance.



Apparently, Taehyung has skills.

Or he thinks he has because the director has nodded at him to continue before he shouts action! which prompts Taehyung to movement, improvising with the things he’s saying or not saying. It’s both because there’s no fucking script and if Taehyung wasn’t so good in bullshitting his way out of life, this wouldn’t have worked as well as he’d have thought.

Taehyung is still hesitant despite coming with Seokjin to the studio.

On the way, Seokjin has told him, rather explicitly, almost a warning, "You don’t really get much from porn."

Taehyung has furrowed his brows, lips set into a frown, says, "But Hoseok said it’s good pay?"

Seokjin snorts, leaning on his seat beside Taehyung inside the back of the taxi that smells like burgers and fries.

"Lies. Women pornstars gets good pay and even then, they have to do drastic scenes. Men pornstars, however, doesn’t get much. Well, unless it’s gay porn then you get more than the normal ones."

He takes in the information, chewing on his lower lip, considering what Seokjin has said. Taehyung is— well, Taehyung is Gay, Gayer, Gayest so being on a gay porn video is not a problem, however, the problem lies with how much he’s really going to get.

"But," Taehyung starts, looks outside the window, stares at the blue sky, the passing building, before continuing, "It’s easy?"

Seokjin lets out a short laugh, one that’s dry, humourless, "Sure, it is. One scene and you go with six hundred thousand won, more if the scene asks more from you and well, if the video sells."

"Oh," Taehyung sighs because— well, six hundred thousand won is better than nothing at all. He gets that from being a camboy too, sometimes, and if he continues doing shows as well as filming scenes, he’ll get double the amount in a month. That’s— that’s good. "Okay," He nods, sighs again. "That’s cool."

Seokjin turns to him, pats his thigh, says, "Cool."

And now, here Taehyung is, with the promise of three hundred thousand won as starting pay if he completes the casting scene with no mishaps. So far, he’s been good and his partner is cooperative. Taehyung can already feel success on the tip of his tongue and that cheap coffee he’s been craving for days now.

He’s dragging his fingers up and down pale thighs and mouths at his partner’s cock when the director shouts cut! and Taehyung almost groans because what now.

"Taehyung," The director says, standing before them on the large bed covered in white sheets that looks too pristine, too clean for his liking. "Get to the main course, home base, sex, whatever you young folks call it. Foreplay only lasts for five minutes. We don’t have the time."

Taehyung stares at the director, wide-eyed before he nods, offers a tight lipped smile, says, "Right."

"Alright, Yoongi," The director turns his attention to the man lying under Taehyung, looking all soft before yet now he looks bored as fuck. "Guide him. He’s new, you have to take care of your co-workers."

Yoongi snorts, rolls his eyes, waves a hand in the air to shoo the director away, "Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Get to it."

"Guide him," The director says before resuming his place on the chair in front of the monitors, watching both Taehyung and Yoongi like a hawk.

Taehyung has never thought making a gay porn video could be so serious yet here he is. Wow.

"Hey," Yoongi tugs on Taehyung’s hair, rough hands turning his head, respectively his attention to him. He smiles up at Taehyung, all soft-like, assuring, "Don’t be too nervous. It’s just sex. Ignore the cameras and all that shit. Just fuck me, okay?"

Taehyung looks down at him, meets his gaze for a moment, before diverting his eyes to Yoongi’s bare chest, says, "Yeah." He gulps, looks at Yoongi again and smiles, repeats, "Yeah. Okay. Thank you."

"Good," Yoongi nods, wraps his arms around Taehyung’s neck, pulls Taehyung close to him and whispers, "Now fuck me so we can force Seokjin to buy us pizza."

Taehyung giggles before schooling his face into a seductive expression, the director yelling action! once again in the background.

This time, Taehyung kisses Yoongi, all soft yet rough enough that it doesn’t look fake on the camera. His fingers trails down to Yoongi’s ass, brushes over the rim, wet, almost dripping, with lube, hole loosen since they have started filming. Taehyung is thankful of that, he doesn’t know if he can take more of foreplay because he pretty much gets lost in it.

Foreplay, underrated as it may be, is Taehyung’s favourite part of having sex.

Nibbling on Yoongi’s lip, he bites back a smile when the sound of the other moaning reaches his ears. Instead, he pushes two fingers inside Yoongi, scissors them before adding another, thrusting deep, with force that has Yoongi throwing his head back and clutching on Taehyung’s tanned shoulders.

"Fuck me, Tae," Yoongi whispers, almost inaudible but loud enough for Taehyung to catch.

So he does.

He pumps his hard cock a few times before lining it with Yoongi’s entrance and with no preamble, but with more than Yoongi’s coaxing, legs pulling Taehyung’s hips closer to his, Taehyung thrusts inside Yoongi’s tight hole, letting out a groan in the process.

Yoongi whispers, again, "Harder."

Taehyung nods, captures Yoongi’s lips with his and fucks Yoongi deeper, harder, the pace fast. He doesn’t know if this is okay or not but the director hasn’t shouted for him to stop so he continues to shove his cock inside Yoongi, fingers pressing on the pale skin under his palms, basking in the overly exaggerated moans Yoongi is letting out.

Really, it’s porn so Taehyung doesn’t question the sounds, allows himself to get lost in the pleasure as he pushes his cock as deep as he could inside Yoongi’s ass.

Porn is—

Taehyung lifts Yoongi’s hips, fucking up inside him harder, looking down at the body under him, breathing heavily. He wraps a hand around Yoongi’s cock, leaking pre-come on his soft stomach, winces as Yoongi digs his nails on his skin, and moans when the tight walls around him clenches around his hard length.

Porn is— interesting, Taehyung concludes.



When they finally finished the shoot one and a half hour later, Taehyung is tired. And hungry. And stressing about his incoming exams.

He’s walking down a hallway, from the small dressing room given to him, when Yoongi appears beside him. Taehyung jumps, puts a hand on his chest, glancing at the other man who’s got a brow cocked towards him.

Taehyung says, "Ah?"

He’s articulate, okay.

Yoongi grins, gummy smile on full show, pats Taehyung’s shoulder rather softly, says, "You’re good, kid." He nods and Taehyung furrows his brows because it’s not that Deep. It’s sex; No Big Deal. Somehow, Yoongi gets his confused gaze, lets out a chuckle, clarifies, "For a newcomer, I mean. You didn’t come too fast or at all. It was fun filming a scene with you."

Taehyung blinks at him, offers a sheepish smile as he rubs the back of his neck, almost embarrassed.

"Well," He shrugs, nonchalant, adds, "It’s sex. I mean, I’ve had plenty before so— I thought it would be different but apparently not? It’s— cool, I guess."

Yoongi nods and starts walking. Taehyung follows him, trailing like a lost puppy with his tail wagging relentlessly from behind.

"Still hungry?"

Taehyung nods eagerly, lips jutting into a small pout as his stomach clenches at the thought of food. Admittedly, he hasn’t eaten for hours, and he’s quite famished. He literally could eat a goddamn mountain right now.

Instead of starting a tirade of how starved he is, Taehyung only hums, "Hmm, yeah."

"Then let’s go find Seokjin and get the pizza that we deserve."

Taehyung laughs, free and happy and forgetting the stress that would surely bite his ass later.

For now, he revels in the feeling of fondness that blooms in his chest as he follows Yoongi down the hall.

His first day has not turn out that bad. Perhaps, being a pornstar would do him good.