Coat West, On the Job

Title: On the Job [Sho/Hikaru]
Rating/Warnings: NC-17 (no, marks, it isn’t gen.)
Summary: Sho really likes working with Hikaru, and Hikaru really likes his job.
AN: It’s porn about porn. Seriously, I cannot sink any lower. This is based on the Dr. Sho/Patient Hikaru section of Luxe 3, and I will blame 1anonymous1 for starting this, goldie for debating the elusive hard uke with me, and swtjemz because this is so, so her fault.

On the Job

Sho always looked forward to doing scenes with Hikaru. For one thing, he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes or the hands, not like anybody in this business really was. For another thing, he was one of the more boisterous guys in the crew, always laughing at some joke or instigating some prank, flashing his huge smile, bright as his name. Sho took pride in the fact that he rarely needed extra takes, he was a professional after all, but when he was filming with Hikaru, the No Goods were almost always worth it. Sometimes after they worked together, Sho would go home with the sorest part of his body being his sides, aching from laughing, which was certainly a nice change.

For a third thing, Hikaru really liked his job.

It sounded like a stupid thing to say, in their line of work. What guy wouldn’t love to get paid to do the things they did all day? All jobs had their down side though, Sho supposed. Every job had at least one guy who was a total jerk, or just a little creepy, or always needed attention. At least if you were a salaryman you could just ignore the guy, didn’t have to act like you really wanted nothing better than to suck his nipples or that having his cock up your ass was “amazing~!”

On the other hand, if you were a salaryman, you didn’t ever get the chance to fuck the living daylights out of that guy either.

But Hikaru wasn’t that guy, and in fact, aside from Nagi, who was the only guy on the crew who actually got excited when Sho suggested they watch the latest dorama in between takes, Sho was getting to the point where there was just about no one he would rather film with.

So it was something of an understatement to say that high-fives were had all around when Sho had entered the office for the initial Luxe 3 meeting and found Nagi and Hikaru already waiting for him.

And then they got the scripts.

“So,” Hikaru said, his barely suppressed laughter coming through loud and clear even over the tenuous cell phone connection, “did you read it yet?”

“Which one?” Sho asked, playing innocent as he rifled around for something in his fridge that wasn’t beer or expired yogurt.

“You know which one,” and a bark of laughter escaped Hikaru, “Sho-sensei.”

And Sho had to laugh too, because he had read it, and after the whole bit with the stethoscope, when he’d got to the part about the bandages, he’d nearly snorted his whole espresso up his nose and made quite a scene at the outdoor café he’d been sitting at. “I’d been wondering if you’d written it after all.”

“I won’t deny my influence is wide and questionable,” Hikaru answered in a sing-song ‘maybe yes and maybe no’ tone. “But Nagi is going to be sooo jealous…”

“He’ll be real jealous when we’re fired for cracking up mid-orgasm,” Sho retorted, giving up on the contents of the fridge and shutting the door to lean against it. “Ah, I can’t find a pulse…maybe I should do mouth to mouth…”

Hikaru managed to choke out some of his own dialogue between snickers, and back and forth they went until they were both howling, Sho practically draped across the fridge. They sobered up just enough for Hikaru to say that they were filming this one the last day, best for last, and then they’d both hung up with their goodbyes wavery from suppressed laughter.

By the time the last day of shooting arrived, Sho should have been exhausted, or at least nervous about this much-anticipated scenario, especially since Hikaru had instigated his fair share of NGs already, and the director had pulled Sho aside for a quiet word about encouraging him. Instead of feeling tense, though, Sho found himself greeting the crew easily, a little bounce in his step as he kicked off his hi-tops and tugged on his costume for the scene.

While he was fussing with his hair, eyes glued to the mirror, Hikaru showed up and chirped a greeting as he tossed his own clothes about haphazardly. Sho returned the greeting, but didn’t bother to turn around until he was satisfied with the way his hair was spiking, and then everything seemed to freeze up for a second.

He’d really thought, after the sight of a rumpled Hikaru in a half-undone yukata that he’d spent more than a few moments staring at during the original Luxe shoot, that he would be immune to the cuteness of just about anything Hikaru could ever wear, but it turned out, as his eyes dragged slow over Hikaru’s soft flannel pajamas, that he’d been very, very wrong.

But then Hikaru made a low noise in his throat, and the spell broke as realization hit Sho, making him grin: Hikaru hadn’t seen Sho’s costume yet either. And it seemed to be making every bit as big an impression as his own, given the surprised ‘o’ of Hikaru’s mouth.

“You like the glasses?” Sho purred, reaching up to tap the arm with two fingers. “They were my idea.”

“You know I do, you bastard,” Hikaru answered, chuckling, and Sho watched Hikaru’s gaze take in the whole thing, from the glasses to the stethoscope to the long white coat. “I never should have told you about my megane kink.”

“Ne, it makes things easier, doesn’t it?” Sho asked, not bothering to hide his smirk as he stepped close enough to find out whether the pajamas felt as soft as they looked. “If it’s something you really like…” Oh god, they were exactly as soft as they looked.

“Bastard,” Hikaru said again, affectionate, reaching out to toy with the metal end of the stethoscope. His breath caught when Sho’s fingers strayed for a second from his shoulders to where his hair was brushing against the back of his neck.

And then the director was shouting at them, demanding to know what they were up to, and they both came out with identical indignant expressions and a reproachful, “Mou, we’re professionals!” from Hikaru.

The script was still the script though, regardless of how edible Hikaru looked in plaid, and the first moan Hikaru gave when Sho put the chilly stethoscope over his nipple warbled with laughter. Sho tried to soldier on, but the “Feels good” that followed it ended in a snort, and they both burst into laughter. The director just rolled his eyes (“Honestly, he had to expect this,” Hikaru murmured as Sho breathed on the metal to warm it up), and they buttoned Hikaru back up and tried again.

This time they made it the whole way to the actual bandaging, and Hikaru was apparently trying to behave, because he didn’t make a single out-of-character sound while Sho was focusing on the wrapping, trying to stare with clinical interest at Hikaru’s half-mummified cock while the cameras focused on him.

When he looked up, though, he found Hikaru’s whole face screwed up with the effort of not laughing, and Sho lost it completely, laughing himself breathless and collapsing against Hikaru’s chest. They stayed that way for a few minutes while the director tried to work out where they should restart from, both of them trying to get it out of their system.

It took several tries, since every time Sho thought he had his composure back, Hikaru would start snickering, making Sho bounce a little on his stomach, and then it would start all over again.

“Ready?” The director finally asked, somewhat testily, and Hikaru and Sho both gave a dutiful “Yes, sir,” in reply.

“Wait until Nagi sees this,” Hikaru said under his breath as they got back into position, “Sooo jealous…” and Sho shushed him.

And then miraculously they broke through to the part where Hikaru was on his knees freeing Sho’s cock with sure fingers, and although there was a dangerous moment when Hikaru’s mouth twitched at Sho’s haughty toss of his lab coat and the slip of his glasses down his nose, once Hikaru’s mouth actually made contact, it really didn’t matter what had been in the script anyway.

Hikaru was a professional after all, and Sho fully appreciated that as he tried to keep in mind the position of the camera and the annoying flap of his coat, tried to find a place for his hands that wouldn’t obstruct the view.

Sho knew that most guys in his position let their heads fall back during this part, either going away in their head for a few minutes or focusing on not coming too early, but in his case the situation was a little different. The thing was that most guys in Hikaru’s position usually went away in their head too, mouth open, eyes closed, on auto-pilot.

But not Hikaru. And Sho knew very well that if he looked down, he was almost certain to find Hikaru looking right back at him, eyes wide with interest and enthusiasm, like he wanted to know what Sho liked, like he wanted to do it right. Because Hikaru really liked his job.

A fact that Sho was reminded powerfully of a few minutes later when Hikaru was spread out underneath him, still half in the pajamas, pushing into his touch and making noises that an actual person having actual sex might actually make. A fact that was making it very hard for Sho to make his own job last longer than two minutes.

Keeping the smooth Sho-sensei face on was no small task while Hikaru was enjoying his job so much, even the usual “It’s so good” and “More, more” phrases not half as fake and irritating when Hikaru moaned them. Once in a while Sho would catch a flash of Hikaru’s grin as they moved and adjusted, sometimes just lurking at the corners of his mouth and others the full arc of it hidden behind the curve of his shoulder, because that bastard was completely aware of what he was doing to Sho, grinning and moaning and squeezing tight around Sho, daring him to lose it.

It seemed like it was a hundred degrees in the room, between the heat of Hikaru’s skin and the bright lights, and Sho practically flung the rest of his clothes off in relief when the director gave him the sign.

And then Hikaru was on his back, staring right up at Sho, hands twisted in the sheets and cock pressed flush up against his stomach, and then he called Sho “sensei” and Sho was pulling out and snapping away the condom and distantly hoping that the shot had been long enough as he came an embarrassing amount over Hikaru’s stomach and chest.

Even Hikaru seemed impressed for a few seconds as Sho shivered through the end of his orgasm, both of them panting for air. Sho ran his gaze from Hikaru’s face down across his chest, back to Hikaru’s cock, hard as a rock and trembling with Hikaru’s breaths.

And it wasn’t a surprise that Hikaru really liked his job, wanted to do well, wanted to please, but somehow the heavy weight of Hikaru’s cock against his stomach struck something in Sho, in his vulnerable post-coital moments, Sho who saw a ridiculous amount of cocks during the act, but couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen one this hard, not for him, not just from that.

It really was a nice cock too, Sho thought hazily as the plan coalesced in his brain, and he knew exactly where he wanted it.

It wasn’t in the script, but Sho was already in motion, throwing a leg over Hikaru’s waist and much preferring to watch the surprise blooming on Hikaru’s face than to glance over at the frantic hand motions the director was no doubt making, and then Hikaru caught on all at once as Sho reached behind himself to smear at least a little of the tacky lube over Hikaru and hold him in position, Hikaru’s grin lighting up his whole face.

Ah well, a little reversi was good for the soul, Sho thought, easing back, and Hikaru pushed into his hands like Sho had known he would.

“CUT,” bellowed the director, startling Sho so badly he nearly tumbled the whole way off the bed, stopped only by Hikaru’s lucky grab at his waist. “HE NEEDS A CONDOM, YOU TWITS.”

“Are you sure?” Hikaru asked while they sorted themselves out, trying to be serious while being wholly incapable of not laughing at Sho’s near-spill. “It’s not in the script.”

“Who needs scripts,” Sho answered, rocking back onto his own fingers and trying to pretend the catch in his voice had nothing to do with the interested glances Hikaru kept shooting at the twist of Sho’s wrist. “Especially not ones written by my cliché-driven fetishist coworkers.”

“Baseless accusations,” Hikaru grinned, and “You’re the one who brought the glasses,” and then Sho called, “We’re ready over here!”

Hikaru’s hands were tight on his hips as Sho slid down, eyes wide and interested, and Sho wondered exactly how long Hikaru could stay this hard, just professional curiosity really, and then he planted his hands on Hikaru’s chest for balance and rocked, because Hikaru was totally just going to lie there and let him do all the work, that bastard.

And maybe it had something to do with how much Hikaru enjoyed being a bottom that he knew exactly how to top, knew when to press in and when to ease up, knew which of Sho’s noises were just for the camera and which ones meant he was doing something right or wrong. It didn’t hurt either that everything was motion with Hikaru, a constant experimental change of positions and angles, keeping Sho from drifting off, from going away, even if he’d wanted to.

The end of Hikaru’s control was sudden and messy, like always, but somehow Sho found that he didn’t really need to fake the usual moments of breathless gasps for air, limp on the twisted sheets and letting the cameras film whichever fluids they wanted from whichever angles.

“I feel much better,” Hikaru rasped, voice tired, and Sho took a moment to remember that there was dialogue at the end of this script. He’d have to ask Hikaru how he got that note of sincerity into his voice. “Sensei, thank you.”

And Sho lay there, struggling to get air in his lungs and hoping the camera wasn’t filming the idiotic grin he absolutely could not force off his face, thinking that sometimes he really, really loved his job.

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