Fic: The Camera Eye: Dirty Soap [Ruki X Shou, NC-17]
Title: The Camera Eye: Dirty Soap
Chapter: Seventh in The Camera Eye series, preceded by The Camera Eye. The Camera Eye: Going Major, The Camera Eye: Hearts and Flowers, The Camera Eye: Star Grabbing, The Camera Eye: Superstar and The Camera Eye: Trophy Boys
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Porn industry AU, drama, smut, romance
Warnings: Male/male sex, polyamory, exhibition/voyeurism (since the characters work in the porn industry), sex toys
Pairing: Ruki X Shou, some Aoi X Kazuki and Kai X Shou
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: When old photos of a pre-porn star Shou suddenly appear on the bottles of a family-friendly shower soap brand, a very dirty public ruckus ensues.
Comments: See notes at the end for the backstory behind this plot - I don’t want to give too much away at the beginning!
In a corporate boardroom somewhere in Tokyo, a new boss wasn’t happy.
Kobe Tomohiro had taken the reins of Sunshine Products Japan a few months ago - an enviable position since the company was responsible for several iconic brands. Take, for example, Sunwash, an extremely popular shower soap that was advertised as “Safe for the Whole Family.” The bottle even featured a happy young family at play in a park.
Except Kobe wasn’t happy with the bottle. “That picture’s getting stale,” he said. “How long have we used it, for heaven’s sake? I think the father has a mullet! No wonder sales are down!”
So he ordered a series of new possible photos for the label, and was currently staring at a monitor, clicking through the pictures. His staff stood behind him in an anxious semicircle, peering over his shoulder, awaiting his sign of approval.
Except none came. With every picture, the new boss let out a grunt - and it wasn’t of satisfaction. When he finished with the gallery, he turned to his underlings. “That’s all you have?”
“That’s all that was taken,” said his second-in-command, nervously pushing his owlish glasses up his hawkish nose. “The photographer shot four different groups of models, like you asked.”
“Well, they’re all wrong,” said the boss. “You sure he didn’t take others? Test shots? Concept photos?”
“That’s all there is,” said the salarywoman to the second-in-command’s left, her business suit as dark and severe as the men’s. “We put everything on the flash drive he gave us on that gallery.”
“We’re paying good money for this?” The boss gestured to the screen. “These models are so generic I could have just posed a set of dolls! Now, if I don’t see anything I can actually use . . .”
“What about the ones that were taken last year?” piped up a voice from the edge of the semicircle. It was the most junior member of the group, who’d only been with the company a couple of years and was desperate to cement his position by impressing the new guy in charge.
The boss frowned. “What ones taken last year?”
“Sir, your predecessor had a thought about changing the bottle last year,” the second-in-command said. “We had pictures taken, but . . . it never went anywhere. We stuck with the old design.”
“Do you still have those pictures?” the boss said.
“We don’t usually keep materials around from aborted projects, sir,” said the second-in-command - but he was cut off by the junior leaping in front of him.
“I think I still have them,” he said. “I save backups of everything. I’ll be right back!” He dashed off to his office, and returned with a burned disc, handing it to the boss. “Here!”
Kobe took the offered item, put it in his drive and started clicking through the new group of pictures. On the fifth one, he suddenly stopped. “This!” he said. “This is the one!”
The staff looked at each other. “It’s nice,” said the salarywoman, “but . ..”
“But?” The boss turned and glared at her.
“Sir,” said the second-in-command, “I believe it was the consensus of the group last year that the couple in the picture looked, well, too young.”
“Nonsense,” the boss said. “They’re healthy, beautiful people in the prime of life - just the kind we want representing our brand.” He pointed to the picture. “We still have the consent forms these models signed, don’t we?”
The salarywoman nodded. “We should. Legal never throws anything away.”
“Then get this down to graphics, have them put this into production and get it out on the street by next month. Alert marketing, too. This couple and these kids are the new faces of our brand!”
The staff scurried off to make their boss’ word into law - not realizing the chosen photo had a very big secret behind it.
If any of them were fans of gay porn, they would have recognized the young father in the picture as Shou, the superstar uke of PSC Productions.
* * *
Shooting videos on a schedule like PSC Productions usually maintained usually meant that one video flowed right into another. There was no real sense of “beginning” and “end” of production, just “we did that thing, now we’ll do this thing.”
This particular video, though, had been special. It was the latest in their romance line, and was a supersized production - three romantic storylines, shooting in actual locations (instead of confining most of the action to the same couple of houses/apartments and faux offices they usually used), and they were able to use much higher-definition cameras than before, resulting in a look that would be more filmlike and less, well, porn-y.
Winning awards for your craft reaped benefits.
When shooting wrapped, Uruha felt like having a celebration. It was a beautiful day - unseasonably warm for early spring. They had the use of their rich benefactor’s mansion, including the patio.
“Let’s have a party,” he said. “Shou, Kai, can you run to the store and get stuff? Like, maybe, yakitori, gyoza, sushi, that sort of thing? But especially the yakotori! There’s an outdoor grill, and I want to try it!”
“You don’t cook, love,” Kai gently reminded him.
“Well, normally I don’t, but this is different! It’s outdoors.”
“Get beer!” called Aoi from the back of the room, where he’d just emerged from the bathroom, wearing only jeans and with his head wrapped in a towel. He and Kazuki had performed the last scene of the day.
“I’m sending you and Kazuki for the beer,” Uruha said. “These two will have enough to handle.”
“Awww,” Aoi said. “After we just put on a performance like that?”
“And you’re always bragging about how fast you bounce back.” Uruha snatched the towel from Aoi’s head. “You want beer, you two get it.”
“Fine,” Aoi said. “Just let me dry my hair. I’m not going out until I look presentable.” He reentered the bathroom, calling, “Kazuki! We’re going on a beer run!”
Uruha pulled some money from his wallet and handed it to Kai. “We’ll make this an official expense, of course,” he said. “We can do that now.”
“Nice to be successful, isn’t it?” Kai leaned over and kissed his lover’s forehead. “We’ll be right back.”
Nice to be successful, indeed. Kai had a car now. He and Shou climbed in, Shou waving to some crew members as they drove off.
“I hope we get to see the rushes later,” Shou said. “I have a good feeling about this video.”
Kai gave a smile. “Looking to win more awards?”
“Well, not necessarily,” Shou said. “But I wouldn’t mind it.” Both of them laughed.
They found the supermarket easily, and the items they needed even more easily - except for one thing.
“Where do they have the paper plates in here?” Shou said, looking from one end of the store to the other and frowning.
“Aren’t they with the cups?” said Kai.
“You’d think so,” Shou said. “But we were there already, and nothing. Maybe over here . . .”
They rounded the corner and headed toward the paper products - towels and the like - past a huge display of Sunwash soap. “Huh,” Kai said. “Looks like they changed the . . .”
And then they both stopped dead in their tracks, mouths hanging open. They blinked slowly almost in unison. They looked at each other, then at the bottle, then at each other again.
“Oh . . . my . . . God . . .” Shou said.
Kai just stared at it some more. “That’s . . . really you, isn’t it? It isn’t a lookalike?”
“I posed for it a year ago,” Shou said. “Back when I was still seriously trying to get into modeling. I . . . I’d forgotten I did it.”
It had been one shoot among several he’d done in a single week - it had been a rare productive period. He’d taken the pictures with a female model and a couple of kids - the photographer’s niece and nephew, if memory served. But nothing had come of it, and he’d just let it slip his mind.
Obviously, it hadn’t slipped any minds at Sunshine Products Japan.
Shou took the bottle down, gingerly, as if it were filled with liquid explosives instead of shower soap. “What are we going to do?” he said, looking around in a panic. Were people looking at the display, and then at him? Were any of them fans of his videos, and saying, “Hey, wait a minute . . .”
What an irony that a year ago having his face on the Sunwash bottle would have seemed a dream come true. Now, it was a potential nightmare for his career.
“We’re going to buy this - okay, I’m going to buy this.” Kai knew that Shou wasn’t going to take the thing up to the counter in person. “And then, we’re going to take it back to Uruha and see what he thinks.” He wrapped an arm around Shou. “It may be nothing. It may blow over entirely. People will probably look at it and say there’s no way an actor in our field can possibly be on the Sunwash bottle - right?”
* * *
Two days later, there was a special meeting in Uruha’s office. The staff and most of the regular cast members sat (and, in some cases, stood) around the room, staring grimly at the item sitting on the desk, like a strange cult around its even stranger idol.
The damn Sunwash bottle almost seemed to be giving off its own light, the way it automatically drew all attention in the room. Given the amount of ruckus it had caused, probably people three office buildings away were paying attention to it.
Uruha stood up and addressed the gathering. “I guess you’ve all been paying attention to social media and you know why we’re here,” he said. “To say that this thing” - he gestured at the bottle - “has exploded all over Twitter is an understatement.”
“Don’t forget Facebook,” Aoi added. He was the only member of the PSC crew on that particular service, so he’d been given the honor of monitoring the extent the whole Sunwash-porn-star-bottle thing had blown up over there.
“And Facebook,” Uruha sighed. “Which means it’s probably even overseas by now.”
It had all started with - as Shou had feared - some of his fans spotting the Sunwash bottle in their local supermarkets. They’d taken to Twitter with the news, and then word had spread to non-porn-watchers on their feeds (because, hey, a porn star on the bottle of a wholesome, family product?), and then it had spread to other people on their feeds, and before anyone knew it, #sunwashpornstar was trending like wildfire. (Not to mention related tags like #dirtysoap and #slutwash.)
“It’ll last until the next fad comes along,” Ruki said. “Twitter has the attention span of a gnat.”
“Why are you all freaking out about this?” Saga said. “This is the biggest publicity goldmine we could possibly ask for! Do you know how many people have heard of us now? Everyone who has a Twitter . . .”
“Not just Twitter and Facebook anymore,” Uruha said. “That’s what this meeting is about.” He held up a newspaper - one of the more tabloid-y ones, but still, a paper with a very wide readership. “Take a look at this.”
There was a screaming headline reading, “Wash HIM Out With Soap!” Under it were pictures of the Sunwash bottle and the cover of Shou’s recent star showcase DVD, Peep Shou. On one side, the wholesome, well-scrubbed young father. On the other . . . the porn star lounging in a bathtub with a sultry expression, covered with water, clothes and all.
Kazuki leaned over and read aloud. “Sunshine Products Japan may have thought they found the ideal young father for the new edition of their iconic Sunwash label - but look again. The model in question just happens to be Shou, the star of gay pornography epics like The Tale of SinningFella and Bottoms Up.”
“At least they think what we do is epic,” Aoi said.
“The article says the pictures were done a year ago,” Kazuki said. “They were put on a disc in the back of someone’s drawer until the new CEO of the company wanted to revamp the label.”
“Guys, I didn’t think they’d ever use those pictures,” Shou said. “I’d forgotten all about them!”
“I still think we’re sitting on the biggest publicity bonanza we’ve ever had,” Saga said. “Put it in the marketing for his next video. What’s that going to be?”
“The one with Ruki,” Shou said.
“Oh, yes, My Devil On The Bed,” Saga said. “So, Sunwash’s slogan is ‘Safe for the Whole Family,’ right? Well, you release that with a label on it that says ‘Unsafe for the Whole Family.’ Use the same style of lettering Sunwash does. Bingo, publicity bonanza!”
“Isn’t that kind of taking the low road, though?” Hiroto said, glancing over at Shou with worry. His friend was sitting with his head down.
“We’re not taking the low road,” Saga said. “Twitter did. We’re just following their lead.”
Kai was sitting next to Uruha, deep in thought. Then, he said, “Maybe . . . there’s a way to do what Saga said, only taking a high road.”
“What do you mean?” said Uruha.
“I mean, do something not based on Sunwash’s slogan, but on the concept of the bottle,” Kai said. “Like, maybe a video where Shou and I are raising children? We had kids dumped on our doorstep? And the video is us trying to have intimate moments while being parents. And the last scene is in the park, like on the bottle . . . and we do a mockup of the bottle as the box cover.”
“Good idea,” said Saga, “except what parent is going to let their children appear in a porno?”
“Maybe . . . it’s not children,” Uruha said, slowly. “Maybe it’s dogs. They get a couple of adorable dogs dumped on them, and they have to try to be ‘parents’ to them.” He looked over at Hiroto. “Do you think that Mogu would be able to do acting?”
“He sure would,” Hiroto said. “He tries to get on camera when I’m filming!”
“Ruki . .. what about Koron?” Uruha said.
“He’s already been on camera, remember?” Ruki said. “We did that one scene with me walking him.”
“Saga, can you come up with a script like that?” Uruha said.
“Of course,” said Saga.
“Then that’s it,” Uruha said. “That’s going to be our response. Nobody talk to the press about this, the video’s going to be our one and only statement on the matter.”
The meeting broke up then, and everyone looked considerably more comfortable with the matter. Most of them were chattering about the upcoming video with excitement.
Everyone, it seemed, except Shou.
* * *
Shou and Ruki entered Ruki’s apartment, Shou sitting down on the couch as Ruki went to feed his dog. The taller man pulled out his phone, opened Twitter, closed it again.
He didn’t want to see another flood of tweets about his little image problem. It had been bad enough when it started, and he realized his photo had been spotted. Then, the tweets had been followed up by texts from just about everyone he knew. And finally, all hell broke loose.
There had been the tweets calling him every rotten name in the book for sullying the “pure” image of Sunwash - not to mention the Japanese family. There were the homophobic E-mails sent by people using anonymizers.
Of course, there had been messages of support as well - from people within the industry to be sure, and fans, and even some members of the general public saying that whatever Shou wanted to do with his life and career was his business and was no reflection on Sunwash. But those got swallowed up in all the noise.
“You want to order pizza tonight?” Ruki said, poking his head out of the kitchen. “I’m out of instant ramen and I don’t think either of us wants to cook.”
Shou just made a noise somewhere between a groan and a grunt, waving his hand.
“Okay, I’m calling,” Ruki said, unlocking his phone and searching for Pizza-La. “You want chicken, pepperoni, veggie, magherita . . .”
He was answered by another noncommittal sound, another indifferent wave.
Ruki put the phone down on the kitchen counter and stalked into the living room, stopping right in front of Shou, arms folded. “All right, out with it,” he said. “You’ve been too quiet all day. There’s obviously a lot more upsetting you than some dirty jokes on Twitter.”
“It’s just, well . . .” Shou looked away. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, my ass.” Ruki removed his ever-present-when-not-filming sunglasses for the express purpose of glaring daggers at Shou. “I know you too well to believe that. Now, you tell me what’s bothering you, and I’m not going away until you do if I have to put fucking roots down in the floor.”
“It’s, well . . .” Shou looked up at the other man. “A year ago, I would have wanted nothing more in the world then to have that photo chosen for the bottle. But now, it’s a disaster.”
Ruki sat next to Shou, took both of the taller man’s long, slender hands in his, and said, “You’re going to have to elaborate more. Disaster is a pretty general word.”
Shou squeezed the hands that held his. “I took those photos before I did any porn at all,” he said. “It was, well, a rare period when things were looking up for my modeling career. I had the Sunwash shoot, a really big catalogue shoot and a test shoot for a magazine cover all in a row. I thought this was it, things were going to take off, I was going to have the career I always dreamed of, and . . .”
“They all fell through, didn’t they?” Ruki said.
“Every one of them,” Shou said. “Not a single one was used. And then the bookings dried up after that. And that’s when Nao - he was an assistant on a couple of the shoots I did - contacted me, and started talking about this DIY porn company he was putting together . . .”
“And you went for it.”
“I figured it was money until my career took off again,” Shou said. “Turns out Nine Films was more successful than anything I ever did in modeling. But . . . I always thought I’d be able to go back to real modeling. That I’d do porn for awhile on the sly, and drop it when the real photoshoots started coming. Then we got sold to PSC and my career really took off. I got caught up in it, especially when . . .”
He was going to say “when I met Kai,” but he figured that talking about one of your boyfriends wasn’t the appropriate thing to do to the other one. Instead, he said, “When I started seeing my face on the box covers.”
“It’s an easy business to get caught up in,” Ruki said. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re so upset. This sure as fuck isn’t going to ruin your career in porn. It’ll enhance it.”
“No . . . that’s not it,” Shou said. “It’s that, well, even though I was successful at PSC, and happy with what I was doing, part of me never lost the dream, you know? I . . . I always held out that little bit of hope I’d be on runways someday, that the people who mattered in the fashion industry would never know that I did porn. And when that label got out there, and people started connecting it to my porn work, and it was all over Twitter, then the newspapers . . .”
“You think you’ll never do mainstream modeling again?” Ruki said. “That’s what you’re upset over?”
Shou nodded, looking down.
“Okay, ask yourself this,” Ruki said. “Would you want to fucking work with people who would judge you for being in porn?”
Shou looked up at him, slightly startled. “What?”
“You heard me,” Ruki said. “All these people who are passing judgment on you all over Twitter? Fuck them. You know what they are? They’re people who wouldn’t have the guts to do what you’re doing - which is live your life on your own terms. They get up in the morning and shower with that fucking soap and go off to their boring desk jobs. They probably never did anything wild or adventurous in their whole lives. They probably don’t even fucking go drinking unless their boss told them to.”
Shou smiled, weakly. “You mean, like my father?” (Oh, was he ever glad he was out to his family. A Twitter firestorm would have been no way for them to find out that he preferred men.)
“Like all of them,” Ruki said. “That’s what the picture on the soap bottle symbolizes - them. That young father you’re supposed to be in that picture, he’s behind one of those desks when he’s not with his kids. And the people looking at that picture can’t stand the thought that this guy has a secret life where he has fun and gets laid all the time. The kind of life they secretly want, but never went for, even when they were young and single.”
“But isn’t that going to stop me from getting modeling jobs?” Shou said. “If they resent me in that picture . . .”
“They’re not going to offer you another fucking domestic product,” Ruki said, “and you don’t want those. Like I said - those aren’t your people. But fashion? Especially the edgy Harajuku stuff? Fuck yeah, they’d want you! This gives you even more of a good-boy-gone-bad image. They’ll eat that up. You’re fucking in when it comes to that stuff, Shou.”
Shou squeezed Ruki’s hands again. “Well, I do the shots for Nemesis” - a punky clothing brand that prided itself on using porn stars in its ads.
“And they’ve gone over well, right?” Ruki said.
“Really, really well,” Shou said. “I think they’re impressed.”
Ruki reached up and stroked Shou’s cheek, gently. “I’m going to tell you one more thing about the fashion industry,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ve worked with those guys sometimes” - meaning, in his away-from-porn capacity as an artist. “You know what they value more than anything else?”
Shou shook his head.
“Pride. Pride in yourself. If you believe in yourself, in who you are and what you do - if you radiate it - they will fucking fall all over themselves to use you. They don’t care who you are, what you’ve done, long as you’ve got it.”
Shou was quiet, thinking over what Ruki had just said. He’d let the nasty Twitter comments eat away at that, hadn’t he? He’d let the controversy destroy his pride in himself, in his work.
And he was proud. What he was doing was porn, to be sure, but it was quality porn. Plus, he was having fun doing it, and not just during the sex scenes. And he really was living his life the way he wanted to, wasn’t he? He remembered that moment during the post-awards party, right before he went into the bedroom with Kai and Uruha, when he wondered if the polyamorous side of him would have awakened if he hadn’t been in porn.
The whole controversy was suddenly starting to be, well, not quite as painful. “I’m going to say . . .” Shou said, slowly.
“What?” said Ruki.
Shou gave him a smile. “Fuck them and their soap bottle. I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing, and see where it takes me.”
“Not to any more fucking bottles, I hope,” said Ruki.
“No,” Shou said. “No more assignments like that ever again.” He leaned over and kissed Ruki, softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re feeling better, I hope.”
Shou nodded, then kissed him again. So much better was he feeling that he was actually, well . . . starting to feel frisky.
“Guess that answers my question,” Ruki said, as he leaned in to kiss Shou, their tongues coming out to caress each other.
Shou wasted no time. He grabbed at the buttons of Ruki’s shirt and started unfastening them, his fingers rapidly flying over his lover’s shirtfront, continuing to kiss him hard. Ruki tried to catch up, reaching between them to unfasten Shou’s own clothing, but he could only moan into his lover’s mouth as Shou’s tongue ravished him. He might be known for being an uke on video, but right now, Shou was definitely the one in control.
When Ruki felt his belt being unfastened, he broke the kiss long enough to murmur, “You know the lube and the other fun things are in the bedroom, don’t you?”
“I know,” Shou said. “But . . .” He turned around, giving Ruki a sweet, boyish smile over his shoulder. “We don’t have to get undressed there, do we?”
He then bent over, sliding his pants and underwear down, giving Ruki a wonderful view of a hot ass pointed right at him. Fuck. This was why he was a star - because nobody else, in the porn world or out of it, had such an ability to be an angel and a whore at the same time.
Ruki let out a long breath. “Keep that up, and you might not get a chance to use the fun stuff.”
Shou just stepped out of his pants and headed for the bedroom, giving Ruki that deceptively innocent smile again - and Ruki stripped off his own pants in his haste to get out of them, following Shou into the bedroom as fast as he could.
Once they got near the bed, Ruki grabbed Shou in his arms, and they kissed hotly, falling down to the mattress, Ruki taking the lead this time, pushing his tongue into Shou’s mouth as his hands roamed his lover’s body, running along his sides, caressing his thighs.
“Mmmm,” Shou murmured, before kissing Ruki’s cheeks, nose, forehead. “What were you saying about the fun stuff?”
“How much do you want it?” Ruki said.
Shou grabbed Ruki’s hand and guided it downward so he could feel just how hard he was - and he was hard indeed. “Does that answer your question?”
“You’d drive a stone statue fucking insane, you know that?” Ruki said, reaching under the bed and bringing out a dark wood box - seemingly innocent from the outside, the kind of thing a chef might keep his tools in.
Opening it up, however, revealed things that were definitely not for cooking, although they were absolutely for turning up the heat. Vibrators of different shapes and sizes, glass dongs and butt plugs, feathers on a stick for tickling . . .
It was an impressive toy chest, indeed. (Of course, their collection was helped considerably by the fact that “exotic novelty” companies kept sending samples of their wares to PSC Productions in hopes of getting them on camera.)
“Hmm . . .” Shou leaned over the collection, scrutinizing the items like a man in a jewelry store looking over potential engagement rings. He picked up a piece made of blue glass, looked it over, put it down, looked over a gyrating rubber one next . . .
He looked up at Ruki. “Too bad there isn’t one we could use at the same time,” he said. “You know, like something two-headed.”
“Those things don’t work,” Ruki said. “You have two guys pushing and pulling in opposite directions. The toy can’t really brace itself on anything, so . . . “ He reached in the toy chest himself and started picking things up at random, putting them down . . .
And then, his hand fell on something, and he got an idea. “Bend over,” he told Shou. “Let me get you ready.”
Shou did what he’d been asked, pushing that wonderful bottom into the air, and Ruki leaned over, pressing his lips to a hot curve as he worked a lubed finger in, gently. He didn’t care how many times he did this man on camera - he was twice as irresistible when they were alone. Maybe it was because he was offering himself up to Ruki alone in this moment, not to Ruki, the camera and untold numbers of watching fans.
He kissed over the hot flesh as he continued to push the digit in and out, memorizing every detail of the texture, the firmness. He rubbed his cheek against it, letting out a soft sound as he pushed the second finger in, starting to thrust them a bit harder and faster.
“Oh, yes,” Shou murmured, starting to buck his hips, pushing himself against the invasion. “More .. .” He moaned as the third finger entered him, opening him up, getting him ready.
When Ruki slid the fingers out, he wiped them off - but instead of reaching for a toy next, he bent over in front of Shou, his own bottom in the air.
“Now, you get me ready,” he said.
Shou looked puzzled. “You said there isn’t a toy that can . . .”
“Just trust me,” Ruki said. “Get me ready.”
Shou paused, then picked up the lube, slicking his fingers and bringing one to Ruki’s entrance. Ruki drew in a breath as that long, slender digit entered him - Shou’s fingers were meant to do this, the way they penetrated gently but firmly, moving around, stimulating pleasure spots one by one . . .
It was a shame sometimes that he was, literally, a professional uke. He had what it took to be a seme.
Ruki began to rock back against the fingers as a second entered him, then a third. “Oh, fuck yes,” he moaned. “Oh, that feels so good . . .”
“You look gorgeous like that,” Shou murmured, sliding his fingers out. “You get into it so much . . .”
“Fuck, how can I help it, being with a guy like you?” Ruki said. He reached into the toy box, for the item he’d found before . . . it was a hot pink rubber dong, with a suction cup on the end. He put a tiny bit of the lube on that, and pressed it against the headboard. It stuck when he took his hand away.
Shou gave him a smile with more than a hint of the devil in it. “Is that for me?” he said.
“You’re going to fuck yourself on that toy,” Ruki said, slicking the rubber thing with lube. “And you’re going to be using this on me while you do it.” He handed Shou a long toy made of black glass, of a shape that was close to an actual male organ, just with some added bumps on the surface designed to increase friction.
“Where did you come up with an idea like that?”
“Call it inspiration,” Ruki said. He watched Shou position himself on all fours, lining himself up with the toy, starting to wriggle backward onto it, then pressing down, sighing blissfully.
“Oh, nice,” Shou murmured. “Oh, I like this one.”
Ruki smiled to himself - Shou never met a toy he didn’t like. Their mutual fondness for these devices was one big reason they were so compatible as offscreen lovers. And fuck, was he gorgeous right now, eyes closed, face bearing a blissful expression . . .
“Go on,” Ruki said. “Fuck yourself on it. Take all of it that you want. Make yourself moan and pant. You’re a gorgeous fucking thing when you do that, you know?” He got on all fours in front of him.
“What do you want me to do now?” said Shou in a husky murmur.
“Fuck me with that thing,” Ruki said. “I want it as deep in me as that other toy is in you.”
Shou slicked the glass toy, then pressed it to Ruki’s entrance. Ruki felt it start to slide in, cold and hard, making his whole body shiver, but it was so good, so delicious . . .the nubs on the side caressed him from the inside, adding to the sensations.
“Oh, yes,” Ruki murmured. “That’s so good, more . .. .”
Shou did what he said, and Ruki pushed his hips back as it slid into him . . . his body was warming the glass up, making it all even more luscious. . .
He looked over his shoulder at his lover. Shou was thrusting back against the rubber toy harder and faster, moaning lustily, his skin shining with sweat. His tongue flicked at his lips, as if he needed to look more erotic right now.
The toy inside Ruki started to thrust, first slowly, then speeding up just a little. Ruki closed his eyes, reveling in its unique feel - smooth and rough at the same time, between the glass and the bumps, shaped in a way that was familiar, but just a little bit exotic. And Shou knew just what to do with the thing, too, going deep with one thrust, only a bit in with the next few; changing angles constantly to make him feel different sensations - first a deep shiver, then a heated ripple through his belly.
There was something definitely kinky about having your lover fuck you with a toy, an experience that was him making love to you and not him making love to you at the same time. And knowing Shou was doing the same thing to himself, hearing Shou moan behind him, oh, fuck . . .
He looked over his shoulder again and saw Shou fucking himself hard on the rubber, just as Ruki was starting to fuck himself hard on the glass; both sets of hips churning, both starting to moan louder, both panting and sweating . . .
Ruki wrapped his fingers around his own cock and started stroking to the rhythm of the thing thrusting inside him, needing more sensation, needing to come, dammit . . .
When Shou thrust at an angle that hit his sweet spot, stars exploded behind Ruki’s eyelids. His body was overwhelmed with a wave of hot sensation, and he cried out, come pouring all over his hand, dripping down to the bed, until he sagged down to it, looking over his shoulder at Shou again . . .
Shou let go of the toy, wrapping his fingers around his own erection, and he stroked rapidly, not needing much to drive him over the edge. He leaned forward, crying out loudly, his come splattering all over Ruki.
The taller man fell off the toy and collapsed next to his lover, gently removing Ruki’s toy as well. He leaned over and kissed the other man, snuggling against him. “That’s the best idea you ever had,” he said.
“Fuck,” Ruki mumbled. That was just about all he was capable of saying at the moment. That orgasm had pretty much melted most of his brain. It was going to take awhile for it to re-solidify.
Shou kissed him again. “I needed that,” he said. “I needed that so much . . . thank you.”
Ruki lifted his head and brought his fingers to Shou’s hair, stroking tenderly. “I’m glad,” he said. Hey, wow, he’d been able to form two coherent words! Maybe his brain was in semi-solid form now.
“And, you know . . . this is who I am, isn’t it?” Shou picked up the toy he’d been using on Ruki and started to clean it. “Porn - sexuality - is a big part of who I am. You’re right - I need to have pride in myself. I need to own my life choices. And I don’t regret going into this industry. You know why?”
Ruki shook his head. He could swear he could hear his semi-solid brain sloshing around.
“Because it’s how I met you.” Shou leaned his forehead against Ruki’s. “And you’re worth more than a million ad campaigns.”
Ruki wrapped his arms around Shou and held him closer. Goddamn, now he was melting his heart as well as his brain. Ruki would be nothing but a bag of liquids pretty soon. If he tripped and fell on the sidewalk, they wouldn’t have to get an ambulance, they’d have to get a mop.
“You’re a sweet-talker, you know that?” Ruki said.
“Maybe,” Shou said. “But I say what I feel.”
The two snuggled together, no words needed. Shou closed his eyes, suddenly feeling at peace.
The soap bottle and the furor it had caused didn’t matter anymore. If the outer world didn’t like that he’d found a home in the PSC Productons family, then the heck with them. And Ruki was right - the right people in the mainstream fashion world wouldn’t give a damn about his past.
“I think I’m going to need a shower,” Shou yawned, stretching.
“Not with Sunwash, I hope,” Ruki said.
“Not on your life,” Shou replied.
The two laughed as they got up and headed toward the bathroom together.
* * *
In a corporate boardroom somewhere in Tokyo, a new boss was even less happy than he’d been before.
Kobe Tomohiro thought he’d found the perfect image for the Sunwash brand. Their sales were starting to increase in a way they hadn’t in years. And then, the news broke that the new “father” on their bottle was a porn star.
Social media had exploded. The business press had exploded even more. And most of the veins in Kobe’s forehead had exploded as a result.
“Why hadn’t they screened the model?” Well, most people who took mainstream jobs didn’t do porn. “Why hadn’t someone on the staff recognized him?” He liked to think they hired people who weren’t into that kind of thing. “What does this mean for the future of Sunwash?” Well, for one thing, an entirely new label. One with no photos at all - just graphics. They weren’t taking a chance on this happening again.
The new CEO knew he was ruined. This was a public relations disaster - and sales of the product were probably dropping through the floor. Who wanted a family-oriented brand associated with a sexually-oriented model?
There was a knock on the door. The second-in-command was standing there, iPad in hand. “Sir? I have the figures that you asked for.”
“I imagine they’re bad news,” the CEO sighed. “But read them to me anyway.”
“No, sir. They’re good news. Very good. In fact, since the news broke about our” - he coughed delicately - “bottle model, sales have gone through the roof.” He turned the tablet around to face his boss, which showed a chart with the line going upward, and upward, and upward still.
Kobe grabbed the iPad. “You’re sure these are accurate?”
“One hundred percent,” his underling said. “In fact, they might be on the low side.”
Kobe couldn’t believe his eyes. This was the kind of brand spike that most CEOs only dreamed of, the kind that got bragged about at annual meetings. Of course, it had come at the expense of some of his company’s dignity, and they were still going to have to pull the porn star bottle to save face.
But there was no saying that had to be done right away.
“Thank you,” he said. “Does the art department have a prototype of the new bottle yet?”
“They’re still working on it. They’ve had some delays.”
“Tell them they can take their time,” the boss said.
The underling looked puzzled. “Sir?”
“You heard me,” Kobe said. “I want this done right!”
The second-in-command bowed and left the office, leaving Kobe sitting there, thinking. The art department would bide their time putting together the new label . . . and in the meantime, he’d sell more, and more, and more porn star bottles, putting together the kind of annual figures that would make shareholders’ eyes light up. Meanwhile, he could report, in all honesty, that he was doing something about their current image problem. His future at this company was secure.
He was, of course, publicly going to denounce the “regrettable choice” his company made in cover models. But if he ever ran across this Shou in town, he was most definitely buying him a drink.
* * *
Shou and Kai’s video inspired by the soap bottle controversy - which featured a cover parodying the bottle itself, the two of them with the dogs in the same pose as the mother and father with their children - was one of the company’s biggest sellers yet.
And for Shou, it all came with a welcome side effect. In addition to Nemesis saying they were going to give him more modeling assignments, another “funky” clothing brand, Silk Torpedo, said they wanted Shou to appear in their catalogue as well. His worries were for nothing - being known as the “dirty soap boy” turned out to be a career boost.
Eventually, his Sunwash bottles disappeared from shelves, creating an instant collector’s item. But there was one place where they would always show up, no matter what. From then on, every PSC Productions video would feature a cameo by Shou’s Sunwash bottle - at his own insistence.
He'd definitely learned to own his life decisions.
# # #
AFTERNOTES
This story is based on a real incident from the history of the porn industry. Marilyn Chambers, one of the earliest and most iconic porn queens, was a mainstream model/actress before getting into the X-rated film business (and in those days, it was X, not NC-17, and film, not video). She’d posed for a box for Ivory Snow, a very popular laundry soap brand that used a photo of a mother and baby on its packaging. Like in this story, her pictures went into a vault at Proctor and Gamble for a year, then were suddenly pulled out and put on the box just as Chambers’ porn debut, Behind the Green Door, was about to hit theaters. Like Shou, Chambers discovered the box when she and a costar were sent out by her producers to get end-of-shooting-party foods. A media firestorm resulted, and the box was pulled - but not before Proctor and Gamble sold a LOT of Ivory Snow. The box made an appearance in each of Chambers’ films/videos for the rest of her career. (And while the brouhaha didn’t net her any mainstream modeling jobs, it did get her the lead in a David Cronenberg horror film, Rabid.)
Chapter: Seventh in The Camera Eye series, preceded by The Camera Eye. The Camera Eye: Going Major, The Camera Eye: Hearts and Flowers, The Camera Eye: Star Grabbing, The Camera Eye: Superstar and The Camera Eye: Trophy Boys
Author: Boots
Rating: NC-17
Genre: Porn industry AU, drama, smut, romance
Warnings: Male/male sex, polyamory, exhibition/voyeurism (since the characters work in the porn industry), sex toys
Pairing: Ruki X Shou, some Aoi X Kazuki and Kai X Shou
Disclaimer: Boys belong to PS Company, I own the story only.
Summary: When old photos of a pre-porn star Shou suddenly appear on the bottles of a family-friendly shower soap brand, a very dirty public ruckus ensues.
Comments: See notes at the end for the backstory behind this plot - I don’t want to give too much away at the beginning!
In a corporate boardroom somewhere in Tokyo, a new boss wasn’t happy.
Kobe Tomohiro had taken the reins of Sunshine Products Japan a few months ago - an enviable position since the company was responsible for several iconic brands. Take, for example, Sunwash, an extremely popular shower soap that was advertised as “Safe for the Whole Family.” The bottle even featured a happy young family at play in a park.
Except Kobe wasn’t happy with the bottle. “That picture’s getting stale,” he said. “How long have we used it, for heaven’s sake? I think the father has a mullet! No wonder sales are down!”
So he ordered a series of new possible photos for the label, and was currently staring at a monitor, clicking through the pictures. His staff stood behind him in an anxious semicircle, peering over his shoulder, awaiting his sign of approval.
Except none came. With every picture, the new boss let out a grunt - and it wasn’t of satisfaction. When he finished with the gallery, he turned to his underlings. “That’s all you have?”
“That’s all that was taken,” said his second-in-command, nervously pushing his owlish glasses up his hawkish nose. “The photographer shot four different groups of models, like you asked.”
“Well, they’re all wrong,” said the boss. “You sure he didn’t take others? Test shots? Concept photos?”
“That’s all there is,” said the salarywoman to the second-in-command’s left, her business suit as dark and severe as the men’s. “We put everything on the flash drive he gave us on that gallery.”
“We’re paying good money for this?” The boss gestured to the screen. “These models are so generic I could have just posed a set of dolls! Now, if I don’t see anything I can actually use . . .”
“What about the ones that were taken last year?” piped up a voice from the edge of the semicircle. It was the most junior member of the group, who’d only been with the company a couple of years and was desperate to cement his position by impressing the new guy in charge.
The boss frowned. “What ones taken last year?”
“Sir, your predecessor had a thought about changing the bottle last year,” the second-in-command said. “We had pictures taken, but . . . it never went anywhere. We stuck with the old design.”
“Do you still have those pictures?” the boss said.
“We don’t usually keep materials around from aborted projects, sir,” said the second-in-command - but he was cut off by the junior leaping in front of him.
“I think I still have them,” he said. “I save backups of everything. I’ll be right back!” He dashed off to his office, and returned with a burned disc, handing it to the boss. “Here!”
Kobe took the offered item, put it in his drive and started clicking through the new group of pictures. On the fifth one, he suddenly stopped. “This!” he said. “This is the one!”
The staff looked at each other. “It’s nice,” said the salarywoman, “but . ..”
“But?” The boss turned and glared at her.
“Sir,” said the second-in-command, “I believe it was the consensus of the group last year that the couple in the picture looked, well, too young.”
“Nonsense,” the boss said. “They’re healthy, beautiful people in the prime of life - just the kind we want representing our brand.” He pointed to the picture. “We still have the consent forms these models signed, don’t we?”
The salarywoman nodded. “We should. Legal never throws anything away.”
“Then get this down to graphics, have them put this into production and get it out on the street by next month. Alert marketing, too. This couple and these kids are the new faces of our brand!”
The staff scurried off to make their boss’ word into law - not realizing the chosen photo had a very big secret behind it.
If any of them were fans of gay porn, they would have recognized the young father in the picture as Shou, the superstar uke of PSC Productions.
* * *
Shooting videos on a schedule like PSC Productions usually maintained usually meant that one video flowed right into another. There was no real sense of “beginning” and “end” of production, just “we did that thing, now we’ll do this thing.”
This particular video, though, had been special. It was the latest in their romance line, and was a supersized production - three romantic storylines, shooting in actual locations (instead of confining most of the action to the same couple of houses/apartments and faux offices they usually used), and they were able to use much higher-definition cameras than before, resulting in a look that would be more filmlike and less, well, porn-y.
Winning awards for your craft reaped benefits.
When shooting wrapped, Uruha felt like having a celebration. It was a beautiful day - unseasonably warm for early spring. They had the use of their rich benefactor’s mansion, including the patio.
“Let’s have a party,” he said. “Shou, Kai, can you run to the store and get stuff? Like, maybe, yakitori, gyoza, sushi, that sort of thing? But especially the yakotori! There’s an outdoor grill, and I want to try it!”
“You don’t cook, love,” Kai gently reminded him.
“Well, normally I don’t, but this is different! It’s outdoors.”
“Get beer!” called Aoi from the back of the room, where he’d just emerged from the bathroom, wearing only jeans and with his head wrapped in a towel. He and Kazuki had performed the last scene of the day.
“I’m sending you and Kazuki for the beer,” Uruha said. “These two will have enough to handle.”
“Awww,” Aoi said. “After we just put on a performance like that?”
“And you’re always bragging about how fast you bounce back.” Uruha snatched the towel from Aoi’s head. “You want beer, you two get it.”
“Fine,” Aoi said. “Just let me dry my hair. I’m not going out until I look presentable.” He reentered the bathroom, calling, “Kazuki! We’re going on a beer run!”
Uruha pulled some money from his wallet and handed it to Kai. “We’ll make this an official expense, of course,” he said. “We can do that now.”
“Nice to be successful, isn’t it?” Kai leaned over and kissed his lover’s forehead. “We’ll be right back.”
Nice to be successful, indeed. Kai had a car now. He and Shou climbed in, Shou waving to some crew members as they drove off.
“I hope we get to see the rushes later,” Shou said. “I have a good feeling about this video.”
Kai gave a smile. “Looking to win more awards?”
“Well, not necessarily,” Shou said. “But I wouldn’t mind it.” Both of them laughed.
They found the supermarket easily, and the items they needed even more easily - except for one thing.
“Where do they have the paper plates in here?” Shou said, looking from one end of the store to the other and frowning.
“Aren’t they with the cups?” said Kai.
“You’d think so,” Shou said. “But we were there already, and nothing. Maybe over here . . .”
They rounded the corner and headed toward the paper products - towels and the like - past a huge display of Sunwash soap. “Huh,” Kai said. “Looks like they changed the . . .”
And then they both stopped dead in their tracks, mouths hanging open. They blinked slowly almost in unison. They looked at each other, then at the bottle, then at each other again.
“Oh . . . my . . . God . . .” Shou said.
Kai just stared at it some more. “That’s . . . really you, isn’t it? It isn’t a lookalike?”
“I posed for it a year ago,” Shou said. “Back when I was still seriously trying to get into modeling. I . . . I’d forgotten I did it.”
It had been one shoot among several he’d done in a single week - it had been a rare productive period. He’d taken the pictures with a female model and a couple of kids - the photographer’s niece and nephew, if memory served. But nothing had come of it, and he’d just let it slip his mind.
Obviously, it hadn’t slipped any minds at Sunshine Products Japan.
Shou took the bottle down, gingerly, as if it were filled with liquid explosives instead of shower soap. “What are we going to do?” he said, looking around in a panic. Were people looking at the display, and then at him? Were any of them fans of his videos, and saying, “Hey, wait a minute . . .”
What an irony that a year ago having his face on the Sunwash bottle would have seemed a dream come true. Now, it was a potential nightmare for his career.
“We’re going to buy this - okay, I’m going to buy this.” Kai knew that Shou wasn’t going to take the thing up to the counter in person. “And then, we’re going to take it back to Uruha and see what he thinks.” He wrapped an arm around Shou. “It may be nothing. It may blow over entirely. People will probably look at it and say there’s no way an actor in our field can possibly be on the Sunwash bottle - right?”
* * *
Two days later, there was a special meeting in Uruha’s office. The staff and most of the regular cast members sat (and, in some cases, stood) around the room, staring grimly at the item sitting on the desk, like a strange cult around its even stranger idol.
The damn Sunwash bottle almost seemed to be giving off its own light, the way it automatically drew all attention in the room. Given the amount of ruckus it had caused, probably people three office buildings away were paying attention to it.
Uruha stood up and addressed the gathering. “I guess you’ve all been paying attention to social media and you know why we’re here,” he said. “To say that this thing” - he gestured at the bottle - “has exploded all over Twitter is an understatement.”
“Don’t forget Facebook,” Aoi added. He was the only member of the PSC crew on that particular service, so he’d been given the honor of monitoring the extent the whole Sunwash-porn-star-bottle thing had blown up over there.
“And Facebook,” Uruha sighed. “Which means it’s probably even overseas by now.”
It had all started with - as Shou had feared - some of his fans spotting the Sunwash bottle in their local supermarkets. They’d taken to Twitter with the news, and then word had spread to non-porn-watchers on their feeds (because, hey, a porn star on the bottle of a wholesome, family product?), and then it had spread to other people on their feeds, and before anyone knew it, #sunwashpornstar was trending like wildfire. (Not to mention related tags like #dirtysoap and #slutwash.)
“It’ll last until the next fad comes along,” Ruki said. “Twitter has the attention span of a gnat.”
“Why are you all freaking out about this?” Saga said. “This is the biggest publicity goldmine we could possibly ask for! Do you know how many people have heard of us now? Everyone who has a Twitter . . .”
“Not just Twitter and Facebook anymore,” Uruha said. “That’s what this meeting is about.” He held up a newspaper - one of the more tabloid-y ones, but still, a paper with a very wide readership. “Take a look at this.”
There was a screaming headline reading, “Wash HIM Out With Soap!” Under it were pictures of the Sunwash bottle and the cover of Shou’s recent star showcase DVD, Peep Shou. On one side, the wholesome, well-scrubbed young father. On the other . . . the porn star lounging in a bathtub with a sultry expression, covered with water, clothes and all.
Kazuki leaned over and read aloud. “Sunshine Products Japan may have thought they found the ideal young father for the new edition of their iconic Sunwash label - but look again. The model in question just happens to be Shou, the star of gay pornography epics like The Tale of SinningFella and Bottoms Up.”
“At least they think what we do is epic,” Aoi said.
“The article says the pictures were done a year ago,” Kazuki said. “They were put on a disc in the back of someone’s drawer until the new CEO of the company wanted to revamp the label.”
“Guys, I didn’t think they’d ever use those pictures,” Shou said. “I’d forgotten all about them!”
“I still think we’re sitting on the biggest publicity bonanza we’ve ever had,” Saga said. “Put it in the marketing for his next video. What’s that going to be?”
“The one with Ruki,” Shou said.
“Oh, yes, My Devil On The Bed,” Saga said. “So, Sunwash’s slogan is ‘Safe for the Whole Family,’ right? Well, you release that with a label on it that says ‘Unsafe for the Whole Family.’ Use the same style of lettering Sunwash does. Bingo, publicity bonanza!”
“Isn’t that kind of taking the low road, though?” Hiroto said, glancing over at Shou with worry. His friend was sitting with his head down.
“We’re not taking the low road,” Saga said. “Twitter did. We’re just following their lead.”
Kai was sitting next to Uruha, deep in thought. Then, he said, “Maybe . . . there’s a way to do what Saga said, only taking a high road.”
“What do you mean?” said Uruha.
“I mean, do something not based on Sunwash’s slogan, but on the concept of the bottle,” Kai said. “Like, maybe a video where Shou and I are raising children? We had kids dumped on our doorstep? And the video is us trying to have intimate moments while being parents. And the last scene is in the park, like on the bottle . . . and we do a mockup of the bottle as the box cover.”
“Good idea,” said Saga, “except what parent is going to let their children appear in a porno?”
“Maybe . . . it’s not children,” Uruha said, slowly. “Maybe it’s dogs. They get a couple of adorable dogs dumped on them, and they have to try to be ‘parents’ to them.” He looked over at Hiroto. “Do you think that Mogu would be able to do acting?”
“He sure would,” Hiroto said. “He tries to get on camera when I’m filming!”
“Ruki . .. what about Koron?” Uruha said.
“He’s already been on camera, remember?” Ruki said. “We did that one scene with me walking him.”
“Saga, can you come up with a script like that?” Uruha said.
“Of course,” said Saga.
“Then that’s it,” Uruha said. “That’s going to be our response. Nobody talk to the press about this, the video’s going to be our one and only statement on the matter.”
The meeting broke up then, and everyone looked considerably more comfortable with the matter. Most of them were chattering about the upcoming video with excitement.
Everyone, it seemed, except Shou.
* * *
Shou and Ruki entered Ruki’s apartment, Shou sitting down on the couch as Ruki went to feed his dog. The taller man pulled out his phone, opened Twitter, closed it again.
He didn’t want to see another flood of tweets about his little image problem. It had been bad enough when it started, and he realized his photo had been spotted. Then, the tweets had been followed up by texts from just about everyone he knew. And finally, all hell broke loose.
There had been the tweets calling him every rotten name in the book for sullying the “pure” image of Sunwash - not to mention the Japanese family. There were the homophobic E-mails sent by people using anonymizers.
Of course, there had been messages of support as well - from people within the industry to be sure, and fans, and even some members of the general public saying that whatever Shou wanted to do with his life and career was his business and was no reflection on Sunwash. But those got swallowed up in all the noise.
“You want to order pizza tonight?” Ruki said, poking his head out of the kitchen. “I’m out of instant ramen and I don’t think either of us wants to cook.”
Shou just made a noise somewhere between a groan and a grunt, waving his hand.
“Okay, I’m calling,” Ruki said, unlocking his phone and searching for Pizza-La. “You want chicken, pepperoni, veggie, magherita . . .”
He was answered by another noncommittal sound, another indifferent wave.
Ruki put the phone down on the kitchen counter and stalked into the living room, stopping right in front of Shou, arms folded. “All right, out with it,” he said. “You’ve been too quiet all day. There’s obviously a lot more upsetting you than some dirty jokes on Twitter.”
“It’s just, well . . .” Shou looked away. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing, my ass.” Ruki removed his ever-present-when-not-filming sunglasses for the express purpose of glaring daggers at Shou. “I know you too well to believe that. Now, you tell me what’s bothering you, and I’m not going away until you do if I have to put fucking roots down in the floor.”
“It’s, well . . .” Shou looked up at the other man. “A year ago, I would have wanted nothing more in the world then to have that photo chosen for the bottle. But now, it’s a disaster.”
Ruki sat next to Shou, took both of the taller man’s long, slender hands in his, and said, “You’re going to have to elaborate more. Disaster is a pretty general word.”
Shou squeezed the hands that held his. “I took those photos before I did any porn at all,” he said. “It was, well, a rare period when things were looking up for my modeling career. I had the Sunwash shoot, a really big catalogue shoot and a test shoot for a magazine cover all in a row. I thought this was it, things were going to take off, I was going to have the career I always dreamed of, and . . .”
“They all fell through, didn’t they?” Ruki said.
“Every one of them,” Shou said. “Not a single one was used. And then the bookings dried up after that. And that’s when Nao - he was an assistant on a couple of the shoots I did - contacted me, and started talking about this DIY porn company he was putting together . . .”
“And you went for it.”
“I figured it was money until my career took off again,” Shou said. “Turns out Nine Films was more successful than anything I ever did in modeling. But . . . I always thought I’d be able to go back to real modeling. That I’d do porn for awhile on the sly, and drop it when the real photoshoots started coming. Then we got sold to PSC and my career really took off. I got caught up in it, especially when . . .”
He was going to say “when I met Kai,” but he figured that talking about one of your boyfriends wasn’t the appropriate thing to do to the other one. Instead, he said, “When I started seeing my face on the box covers.”
“It’s an easy business to get caught up in,” Ruki said. “But that doesn’t explain why you’re so upset. This sure as fuck isn’t going to ruin your career in porn. It’ll enhance it.”
“No . . . that’s not it,” Shou said. “It’s that, well, even though I was successful at PSC, and happy with what I was doing, part of me never lost the dream, you know? I . . . I always held out that little bit of hope I’d be on runways someday, that the people who mattered in the fashion industry would never know that I did porn. And when that label got out there, and people started connecting it to my porn work, and it was all over Twitter, then the newspapers . . .”
“You think you’ll never do mainstream modeling again?” Ruki said. “That’s what you’re upset over?”
Shou nodded, looking down.
“Okay, ask yourself this,” Ruki said. “Would you want to fucking work with people who would judge you for being in porn?”
Shou looked up at him, slightly startled. “What?”
“You heard me,” Ruki said. “All these people who are passing judgment on you all over Twitter? Fuck them. You know what they are? They’re people who wouldn’t have the guts to do what you’re doing - which is live your life on your own terms. They get up in the morning and shower with that fucking soap and go off to their boring desk jobs. They probably never did anything wild or adventurous in their whole lives. They probably don’t even fucking go drinking unless their boss told them to.”
Shou smiled, weakly. “You mean, like my father?” (Oh, was he ever glad he was out to his family. A Twitter firestorm would have been no way for them to find out that he preferred men.)
“Like all of them,” Ruki said. “That’s what the picture on the soap bottle symbolizes - them. That young father you’re supposed to be in that picture, he’s behind one of those desks when he’s not with his kids. And the people looking at that picture can’t stand the thought that this guy has a secret life where he has fun and gets laid all the time. The kind of life they secretly want, but never went for, even when they were young and single.”
“But isn’t that going to stop me from getting modeling jobs?” Shou said. “If they resent me in that picture . . .”
“They’re not going to offer you another fucking domestic product,” Ruki said, “and you don’t want those. Like I said - those aren’t your people. But fashion? Especially the edgy Harajuku stuff? Fuck yeah, they’d want you! This gives you even more of a good-boy-gone-bad image. They’ll eat that up. You’re fucking in when it comes to that stuff, Shou.”
Shou squeezed Ruki’s hands again. “Well, I do the shots for Nemesis” - a punky clothing brand that prided itself on using porn stars in its ads.
“And they’ve gone over well, right?” Ruki said.
“Really, really well,” Shou said. “I think they’re impressed.”
Ruki reached up and stroked Shou’s cheek, gently. “I’m going to tell you one more thing about the fashion industry,” he said, his voice softening. “I’ve worked with those guys sometimes” - meaning, in his away-from-porn capacity as an artist. “You know what they value more than anything else?”
Shou shook his head.
“Pride. Pride in yourself. If you believe in yourself, in who you are and what you do - if you radiate it - they will fucking fall all over themselves to use you. They don’t care who you are, what you’ve done, long as you’ve got it.”
Shou was quiet, thinking over what Ruki had just said. He’d let the nasty Twitter comments eat away at that, hadn’t he? He’d let the controversy destroy his pride in himself, in his work.
And he was proud. What he was doing was porn, to be sure, but it was quality porn. Plus, he was having fun doing it, and not just during the sex scenes. And he really was living his life the way he wanted to, wasn’t he? He remembered that moment during the post-awards party, right before he went into the bedroom with Kai and Uruha, when he wondered if the polyamorous side of him would have awakened if he hadn’t been in porn.
The whole controversy was suddenly starting to be, well, not quite as painful. “I’m going to say . . .” Shou said, slowly.
“What?” said Ruki.
Shou gave him a smile. “Fuck them and their soap bottle. I’m going to keep doing what I’m doing, and see where it takes me.”
“Not to any more fucking bottles, I hope,” said Ruki.
“No,” Shou said. “No more assignments like that ever again.” He leaned over and kissed Ruki, softly. “Thank you.”
“You’re feeling better, I hope.”
Shou nodded, then kissed him again. So much better was he feeling that he was actually, well . . . starting to feel frisky.
“Guess that answers my question,” Ruki said, as he leaned in to kiss Shou, their tongues coming out to caress each other.
Shou wasted no time. He grabbed at the buttons of Ruki’s shirt and started unfastening them, his fingers rapidly flying over his lover’s shirtfront, continuing to kiss him hard. Ruki tried to catch up, reaching between them to unfasten Shou’s own clothing, but he could only moan into his lover’s mouth as Shou’s tongue ravished him. He might be known for being an uke on video, but right now, Shou was definitely the one in control.
When Ruki felt his belt being unfastened, he broke the kiss long enough to murmur, “You know the lube and the other fun things are in the bedroom, don’t you?”
“I know,” Shou said. “But . . .” He turned around, giving Ruki a sweet, boyish smile over his shoulder. “We don’t have to get undressed there, do we?”
He then bent over, sliding his pants and underwear down, giving Ruki a wonderful view of a hot ass pointed right at him. Fuck. This was why he was a star - because nobody else, in the porn world or out of it, had such an ability to be an angel and a whore at the same time.
Ruki let out a long breath. “Keep that up, and you might not get a chance to use the fun stuff.”
Shou just stepped out of his pants and headed for the bedroom, giving Ruki that deceptively innocent smile again - and Ruki stripped off his own pants in his haste to get out of them, following Shou into the bedroom as fast as he could.
Once they got near the bed, Ruki grabbed Shou in his arms, and they kissed hotly, falling down to the mattress, Ruki taking the lead this time, pushing his tongue into Shou’s mouth as his hands roamed his lover’s body, running along his sides, caressing his thighs.
“Mmmm,” Shou murmured, before kissing Ruki’s cheeks, nose, forehead. “What were you saying about the fun stuff?”
“How much do you want it?” Ruki said.
Shou grabbed Ruki’s hand and guided it downward so he could feel just how hard he was - and he was hard indeed. “Does that answer your question?”
“You’d drive a stone statue fucking insane, you know that?” Ruki said, reaching under the bed and bringing out a dark wood box - seemingly innocent from the outside, the kind of thing a chef might keep his tools in.
Opening it up, however, revealed things that were definitely not for cooking, although they were absolutely for turning up the heat. Vibrators of different shapes and sizes, glass dongs and butt plugs, feathers on a stick for tickling . . .
It was an impressive toy chest, indeed. (Of course, their collection was helped considerably by the fact that “exotic novelty” companies kept sending samples of their wares to PSC Productions in hopes of getting them on camera.)
“Hmm . . .” Shou leaned over the collection, scrutinizing the items like a man in a jewelry store looking over potential engagement rings. He picked up a piece made of blue glass, looked it over, put it down, looked over a gyrating rubber one next . . .
He looked up at Ruki. “Too bad there isn’t one we could use at the same time,” he said. “You know, like something two-headed.”
“Those things don’t work,” Ruki said. “You have two guys pushing and pulling in opposite directions. The toy can’t really brace itself on anything, so . . . “ He reached in the toy chest himself and started picking things up at random, putting them down . . .
And then, his hand fell on something, and he got an idea. “Bend over,” he told Shou. “Let me get you ready.”
Shou did what he’d been asked, pushing that wonderful bottom into the air, and Ruki leaned over, pressing his lips to a hot curve as he worked a lubed finger in, gently. He didn’t care how many times he did this man on camera - he was twice as irresistible when they were alone. Maybe it was because he was offering himself up to Ruki alone in this moment, not to Ruki, the camera and untold numbers of watching fans.
He kissed over the hot flesh as he continued to push the digit in and out, memorizing every detail of the texture, the firmness. He rubbed his cheek against it, letting out a soft sound as he pushed the second finger in, starting to thrust them a bit harder and faster.
“Oh, yes,” Shou murmured, starting to buck his hips, pushing himself against the invasion. “More .. .” He moaned as the third finger entered him, opening him up, getting him ready.
When Ruki slid the fingers out, he wiped them off - but instead of reaching for a toy next, he bent over in front of Shou, his own bottom in the air.
“Now, you get me ready,” he said.
Shou looked puzzled. “You said there isn’t a toy that can . . .”
“Just trust me,” Ruki said. “Get me ready.”
Shou paused, then picked up the lube, slicking his fingers and bringing one to Ruki’s entrance. Ruki drew in a breath as that long, slender digit entered him - Shou’s fingers were meant to do this, the way they penetrated gently but firmly, moving around, stimulating pleasure spots one by one . . .
It was a shame sometimes that he was, literally, a professional uke. He had what it took to be a seme.
Ruki began to rock back against the fingers as a second entered him, then a third. “Oh, fuck yes,” he moaned. “Oh, that feels so good . . .”
“You look gorgeous like that,” Shou murmured, sliding his fingers out. “You get into it so much . . .”
“Fuck, how can I help it, being with a guy like you?” Ruki said. He reached into the toy box, for the item he’d found before . . . it was a hot pink rubber dong, with a suction cup on the end. He put a tiny bit of the lube on that, and pressed it against the headboard. It stuck when he took his hand away.
Shou gave him a smile with more than a hint of the devil in it. “Is that for me?” he said.
“You’re going to fuck yourself on that toy,” Ruki said, slicking the rubber thing with lube. “And you’re going to be using this on me while you do it.” He handed Shou a long toy made of black glass, of a shape that was close to an actual male organ, just with some added bumps on the surface designed to increase friction.
“Where did you come up with an idea like that?”
“Call it inspiration,” Ruki said. He watched Shou position himself on all fours, lining himself up with the toy, starting to wriggle backward onto it, then pressing down, sighing blissfully.
“Oh, nice,” Shou murmured. “Oh, I like this one.”
Ruki smiled to himself - Shou never met a toy he didn’t like. Their mutual fondness for these devices was one big reason they were so compatible as offscreen lovers. And fuck, was he gorgeous right now, eyes closed, face bearing a blissful expression . . .
“Go on,” Ruki said. “Fuck yourself on it. Take all of it that you want. Make yourself moan and pant. You’re a gorgeous fucking thing when you do that, you know?” He got on all fours in front of him.
“What do you want me to do now?” said Shou in a husky murmur.
“Fuck me with that thing,” Ruki said. “I want it as deep in me as that other toy is in you.”
Shou slicked the glass toy, then pressed it to Ruki’s entrance. Ruki felt it start to slide in, cold and hard, making his whole body shiver, but it was so good, so delicious . . .the nubs on the side caressed him from the inside, adding to the sensations.
“Oh, yes,” Ruki murmured. “That’s so good, more . .. .”
Shou did what he said, and Ruki pushed his hips back as it slid into him . . . his body was warming the glass up, making it all even more luscious. . .
He looked over his shoulder at his lover. Shou was thrusting back against the rubber toy harder and faster, moaning lustily, his skin shining with sweat. His tongue flicked at his lips, as if he needed to look more erotic right now.
The toy inside Ruki started to thrust, first slowly, then speeding up just a little. Ruki closed his eyes, reveling in its unique feel - smooth and rough at the same time, between the glass and the bumps, shaped in a way that was familiar, but just a little bit exotic. And Shou knew just what to do with the thing, too, going deep with one thrust, only a bit in with the next few; changing angles constantly to make him feel different sensations - first a deep shiver, then a heated ripple through his belly.
There was something definitely kinky about having your lover fuck you with a toy, an experience that was him making love to you and not him making love to you at the same time. And knowing Shou was doing the same thing to himself, hearing Shou moan behind him, oh, fuck . . .
He looked over his shoulder again and saw Shou fucking himself hard on the rubber, just as Ruki was starting to fuck himself hard on the glass; both sets of hips churning, both starting to moan louder, both panting and sweating . . .
Ruki wrapped his fingers around his own cock and started stroking to the rhythm of the thing thrusting inside him, needing more sensation, needing to come, dammit . . .
When Shou thrust at an angle that hit his sweet spot, stars exploded behind Ruki’s eyelids. His body was overwhelmed with a wave of hot sensation, and he cried out, come pouring all over his hand, dripping down to the bed, until he sagged down to it, looking over his shoulder at Shou again . . .
Shou let go of the toy, wrapping his fingers around his own erection, and he stroked rapidly, not needing much to drive him over the edge. He leaned forward, crying out loudly, his come splattering all over Ruki.
The taller man fell off the toy and collapsed next to his lover, gently removing Ruki’s toy as well. He leaned over and kissed the other man, snuggling against him. “That’s the best idea you ever had,” he said.
“Fuck,” Ruki mumbled. That was just about all he was capable of saying at the moment. That orgasm had pretty much melted most of his brain. It was going to take awhile for it to re-solidify.
Shou kissed him again. “I needed that,” he said. “I needed that so much . . . thank you.”
Ruki lifted his head and brought his fingers to Shou’s hair, stroking tenderly. “I’m glad,” he said. Hey, wow, he’d been able to form two coherent words! Maybe his brain was in semi-solid form now.
“And, you know . . . this is who I am, isn’t it?” Shou picked up the toy he’d been using on Ruki and started to clean it. “Porn - sexuality - is a big part of who I am. You’re right - I need to have pride in myself. I need to own my life choices. And I don’t regret going into this industry. You know why?”
Ruki shook his head. He could swear he could hear his semi-solid brain sloshing around.
“Because it’s how I met you.” Shou leaned his forehead against Ruki’s. “And you’re worth more than a million ad campaigns.”
Ruki wrapped his arms around Shou and held him closer. Goddamn, now he was melting his heart as well as his brain. Ruki would be nothing but a bag of liquids pretty soon. If he tripped and fell on the sidewalk, they wouldn’t have to get an ambulance, they’d have to get a mop.
“You’re a sweet-talker, you know that?” Ruki said.
“Maybe,” Shou said. “But I say what I feel.”
The two snuggled together, no words needed. Shou closed his eyes, suddenly feeling at peace.
The soap bottle and the furor it had caused didn’t matter anymore. If the outer world didn’t like that he’d found a home in the PSC Productons family, then the heck with them. And Ruki was right - the right people in the mainstream fashion world wouldn’t give a damn about his past.
“I think I’m going to need a shower,” Shou yawned, stretching.
“Not with Sunwash, I hope,” Ruki said.
“Not on your life,” Shou replied.
The two laughed as they got up and headed toward the bathroom together.
* * *
In a corporate boardroom somewhere in Tokyo, a new boss was even less happy than he’d been before.
Kobe Tomohiro thought he’d found the perfect image for the Sunwash brand. Their sales were starting to increase in a way they hadn’t in years. And then, the news broke that the new “father” on their bottle was a porn star.
Social media had exploded. The business press had exploded even more. And most of the veins in Kobe’s forehead had exploded as a result.
“Why hadn’t they screened the model?” Well, most people who took mainstream jobs didn’t do porn. “Why hadn’t someone on the staff recognized him?” He liked to think they hired people who weren’t into that kind of thing. “What does this mean for the future of Sunwash?” Well, for one thing, an entirely new label. One with no photos at all - just graphics. They weren’t taking a chance on this happening again.
The new CEO knew he was ruined. This was a public relations disaster - and sales of the product were probably dropping through the floor. Who wanted a family-oriented brand associated with a sexually-oriented model?
There was a knock on the door. The second-in-command was standing there, iPad in hand. “Sir? I have the figures that you asked for.”
“I imagine they’re bad news,” the CEO sighed. “But read them to me anyway.”
“No, sir. They’re good news. Very good. In fact, since the news broke about our” - he coughed delicately - “bottle model, sales have gone through the roof.” He turned the tablet around to face his boss, which showed a chart with the line going upward, and upward, and upward still.
Kobe grabbed the iPad. “You’re sure these are accurate?”
“One hundred percent,” his underling said. “In fact, they might be on the low side.”
Kobe couldn’t believe his eyes. This was the kind of brand spike that most CEOs only dreamed of, the kind that got bragged about at annual meetings. Of course, it had come at the expense of some of his company’s dignity, and they were still going to have to pull the porn star bottle to save face.
But there was no saying that had to be done right away.
“Thank you,” he said. “Does the art department have a prototype of the new bottle yet?”
“They’re still working on it. They’ve had some delays.”
“Tell them they can take their time,” the boss said.
The underling looked puzzled. “Sir?”
“You heard me,” Kobe said. “I want this done right!”
The second-in-command bowed and left the office, leaving Kobe sitting there, thinking. The art department would bide their time putting together the new label . . . and in the meantime, he’d sell more, and more, and more porn star bottles, putting together the kind of annual figures that would make shareholders’ eyes light up. Meanwhile, he could report, in all honesty, that he was doing something about their current image problem. His future at this company was secure.
He was, of course, publicly going to denounce the “regrettable choice” his company made in cover models. But if he ever ran across this Shou in town, he was most definitely buying him a drink.
* * *
Shou and Kai’s video inspired by the soap bottle controversy - which featured a cover parodying the bottle itself, the two of them with the dogs in the same pose as the mother and father with their children - was one of the company’s biggest sellers yet.
And for Shou, it all came with a welcome side effect. In addition to Nemesis saying they were going to give him more modeling assignments, another “funky” clothing brand, Silk Torpedo, said they wanted Shou to appear in their catalogue as well. His worries were for nothing - being known as the “dirty soap boy” turned out to be a career boost.
Eventually, his Sunwash bottles disappeared from shelves, creating an instant collector’s item. But there was one place where they would always show up, no matter what. From then on, every PSC Productions video would feature a cameo by Shou’s Sunwash bottle - at his own insistence.
He'd definitely learned to own his life decisions.
# # #
AFTERNOTES
This story is based on a real incident from the history of the porn industry. Marilyn Chambers, one of the earliest and most iconic porn queens, was a mainstream model/actress before getting into the X-rated film business (and in those days, it was X, not NC-17, and film, not video). She’d posed for a box for Ivory Snow, a very popular laundry soap brand that used a photo of a mother and baby on its packaging. Like in this story, her pictures went into a vault at Proctor and Gamble for a year, then were suddenly pulled out and put on the box just as Chambers’ porn debut, Behind the Green Door, was about to hit theaters. Like Shou, Chambers discovered the box when she and a costar were sent out by her producers to get end-of-shooting-party foods. A media firestorm resulted, and the box was pulled - but not before Proctor and Gamble sold a LOT of Ivory Snow. The box made an appearance in each of Chambers’ films/videos for the rest of her career. (And while the brouhaha didn’t net her any mainstream modeling jobs, it did get her the lead in a David Cronenberg horror film, Rabid.)