Chapter Text
Thirty minutes to five. Half an hour to go and Xabi Alonso’s work was done for today. Now, he only had to deal with one more call from Iker Casillas, the head of the Madrid branch of Blacklisted Studios, and he could call it a day.
Taking advantage of the rare moment of silence, Xabi stretched out luxuriously on his desk chair, moaning gratefully as his sides flexed and his aching muscles relaxed.
Not soon after, all three lines of his office phone rang simultaneously.
Xabi didn’t even have time to curse as he dove for the nearest handset.
“Iker?” He asked hopefully, but the voice at the other end of the line answered gruffly instead, “No, it’s Sami.”
Sami, Sami from Distribution. Shit.
“What is it?” Xabi asked, although he didn’t want to know.
“Some users are still getting around our encryption. A lot of our videos are getting ripped from the website without payment,” Sami briefed their CEO, his voice strained and annoyed. He’d been dealing with these hackers for a week now.
“How many videos?”
“The whole bucketload. Worse, a lot of them pop up over in Torrent sites and more people get them for free.”
“Shit.”
“Last time I checked, there were more than 300 leechers in one go.”
“Fucking shit, Sami.”
“Yes. So you had better get me new technical support, Alonso, or your sales are plunging this month,” Sami warned. His voice was calm but edged with exasperation.
“Fine, fine. I’ll call Finance and I’ll see what we can do,” Xabi said, already punching in the numbers for the Finance department when the other phones continued to ring off the hook.
“Yes?” Xabi demanded, as he answered another call.
“Fabio that fucking Brazilian cunt is calling in sick again!” A mighty voice roared down the line.
Xabi winced as he held the handset away from his ear, “Hello, Carra.”
“What am I supposed to fucking do? Shooting starts tomorrow, all the equipment is ready, all the cast is scheduled in, and we already paid our reservations for the locations!”
“Well, you’re the fucking talent manager so why don’t you fucking manage the fucking talent?!” Xabi exploded right back. Carra always got him riled up, and his expletives were infectious.
“Manage what? Where the hell am I going to find a new Brazilian bottom a day before the shoot? And don’t you dare say Lucas because I hate giving him a starring role, unless I absolutely have to.”
Xabi gripped the phone hander in his hand as he struggled to sound diplomatic “Guess what, Carra? You absolutely have to. Unless you can rip Fabio off of his death bed, then Lucas is your lead for tomorrow.”
“You’re a soddy wanker, Alonso” – then Xabi hung up on him.
Riiiinggg. The sound of the phone pierced shrilly at the Spaniard’s ear.
“WHAT??” Xabi couldn’t help but yell at the mouthpiece.
“Holla.” The unmistakably laid-back and undoubtedly high voice at the other end of the line was sure to be Ryan.
“Keep off the reefers until closing time, Babel.” Xabi gritted his teeth.
“Our bulk order for condoms hasn’t arrived. It’s a day late already,” Ryan continued, as if Xabi never spoke up.
Xabi let his head drop on the surface of his desk, and he didn’t even flinch when it hit the wood loudly.
“Ryan, wait for yourself to sober up, and I’m sure you’ll find it. It’s a box full of banana-flavored rubbers. You won’t miss it.”
Then, with an air of finality, he let the phone clatter noisily back on its cradle. 4:45. Fifteen minutes to sanity.
But, of course, it wasn’t over.
“Xabi?” Mikel Arteta’s voice was robotic over the intercom. “Somebody’s here to see you. Do I send him in?”
Xabi sighed tiredly, before pressing the phone button and snapping testily in response. “Is it important?”
There was a rustle in the background and a few exchanged murmurs. Xabi rubbed his temples impatiently.
“He says he’s applying for a job.”
Frowning, Xabi grunted out, “Can you tell him to come back anytime this week? I’ve had a long day.”
There was another pause, and Xabi could almost imagine Mikel, in his perch right outside this office, phone faithfully pressed to his ear with one hand, and with another, flipping meticulously through the company planner, ready to pencil in the next appointment.
“The boy says he’s only free today because he’s still going to college, and he has class the rest of the week.”
Xabi groaned loudly at the speakerphone.
“And you did send out a memo to everyone that you were looking for a bottom,” Mikel continued. He dropped his voice to a whisper, “And this boy is like the mother of all twinks.”
That made Xabi feel just a tiny bit better and he sat up a little straighter in his seat. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. So, do you want me to send him in or what?”
Xabi nibbled at his bottom lip. “What do you think?”
There was another long silence. And with the dozens of gay (and occasional straight) males that trooped down to Blacklisted Studios looking for their big break, day in and day out, it was an asset to have Miki in the front desk. He was as picky as they could be. Xabi fondly called him their first line of defence.
“This looks good to go.” Mikel finally decided.
Xabi checked his watch. Iker was going to call in a while, but maybe he could spare a few minutes.
“Alright, send him in.”
*
The boy entered Xabi’s office quiet as a mouse, head down and with the slightest scuffle of sneakers against the industrial carpeting. The Basque peered at him over the magazine he was reading and spoke nonchalantly, “Well, go on then. Strip.”
Xabi didn’t miss the comedic way the visitor froze and his eyes bulged out. “E-excuse me?”
Xabi huffed a sigh then noisily flipped the magazine to the next page. “I said, strip.”
The visitor stood still, hands clutching his backpack to his body, as if to create a barrier between himself and Xabi.
“Babe, I don’t have all day.”
“I-I’m sorry, but I thought...” the boy trailed off as he blushed, unable to continue.
“What did you think?” Xabi taunted wrly, lazily throwing the magazine on his desk. “That I would ask for your résumé?”
The stranger blushed even more and Xabi thought he saw an inmaculately printed piece of paper being stuffed down a back pocket. “Uh, of course not.”
The corner of Xabi’s mouth twitched.
“You’re cute.”
“Thanks. I think.” The guy said, ducking his head in embarrassment.
“What’s your name?” Xabi asked, sitting up straight on his chair, getting into business-mode.
“Fernando.” The stranger introduced himself. “Fernando Torres.”
Xabi supported his chin with clasped hands, “And why do you want to become a porn star, Fernando?” Oh, he loved asking that question. The answers were always interesting.
Fernando fidgeted. He glanced at the nameplate on the desk, instead of the Basque’s unreadable face. “I... need money.”
“So get a part-time job,” Xabi rebutted, disinterested.
“No, I need a lot of money.”
“Sell a kidney.”
Fernando’s jaw dropped. Xabi raised an eyebrow, “You and I both know the real answer. I just want you to say it.”
The younger boy bit his lip as he looked away. He spoke quickly, words tumbling into each other in one whoosh. “I figured I would just make money off of something that I’ll end up doing anyway.”
A smile cracked upon Xabi’s face, and Fernando felt a tad bit more relaxed. He shrugged, “Besides, it looks like fun.”
“Good answer. No more shit excuses next time, kid.” Xabi said, nodding once in approval, and Fernando felt a surge of pride.
“Now, strip.”
This time, Fernando took a deep, steadying breath, and he put down his backpack on the floor. “Okay,” he replied meekly, more of a reassurance to himself than in agreement to Xabi.
When Fernando shrugged off his jacket, the Basque leaned back in his chair, contented. He folded his arms behind the back of his head, then put up his feet on his desk. “Perfect,” he murmured.
He watched as Fernando took off his shirt, taking all the time in the world in folding it by the couch to stall. It wasn’t long enough, though, until he had to work on his belt, then his shoes and socks. Finally, there were only two items of clothing left – faded denim jeans and (assuming he was wearing underwear) whatever was beneath them.
“I don’t think you noticed, but we don’t really do much business in here with clothing on,” Xabi prodded sarcastically.
“I’m stripping, I’m stripping,” Fernando answered hurriedly, fumbling with the button and zipper of his trousers.
“Don’t delay the inevitable. Just yank your jeans down,” Xabi coached, completely no-nonsense.
Shutting his eyes, Fernando did as he was told. He stepped out of his jeans and as with previous items of clothing, folded them obsessively before hooking his thumbs on the waistband of his briefs.
“Go on,” Xabi encouraged, his eyes taking on a more leering quality.
“Do I really have to?”
“I’ve seen too many stuffed packages, so yes, I’d like to see the real thing, please.”
“But...”
“Do you intend to film a porn clip in your underwear?” Xabi challenged.
Fernando pursed his lips. Then with one swift move, the thin garment fell to the ground.
Xabi grinned. “See? That wasn’t so hard.”
Fernando didn’t respond, only kept gazing forward at the mint blue paint of the wall so he didn’t lose his nerve.
Xabi got up to his feet and approached the younger Spaniard.
“Well, we’ll obviously have to do something with this hair,” he murmured to himself, running fingers through Fernando’s long blonde mop. “You’ll have to drop by our stylist’s office to get yourself a decent haircut. Some nice layers around the face would be nice – and a better dye job, definitely.”
Fernando winced and his shell of confidence started to crack a little.
Xabi started circling him, “Now, are you really this pale?”
The boy nodded, “Yeah, I” – he choked on the words as he felt Xabi run his fingers over his spine experimentally – “I burn easily.”
“Self-tanning, babe.”
“Oh. O-okay.”
“Height?”
“About 1.85 metres.”
“Weight?”
“Uh, 12 stone 4.”
“This is so strange,” Xabi observed, circling Fernando again before coming to a stop in front of him.
“What’s strange?” Fernando dared himself to ask.
“Your body’s massive, which is a problem. You’re easily taller and bigger than half of our tops here at Blacklisted.” Xabi frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “But your face...”
He reached out and let his fingers brush Fernando’s cheek. He let it run over the ridges of his eyebrows, then his nose, then his cheekbones and jaw. Fernando held his breath as the soft pads of Xabi’s fingertips caressed his skin.
“You have the face of a bottom.”
Fernando blinked, unsure of how to react. “...Oh.”
Xabi’s eyes glistened excitedly as he turned around to reach for a notepad on his desk. He scribbled busily, “Kid, with a face like that, you could pull off a simulated rape scene in a heartbeat.”
“A... a what?” Fernando paled.
Xabi uncharacteristically beamed at the newcomer, foul mood now slightly forgotten. “Don’t worry about that, I’m sure we can talk about your future projects next time.”
Fernando literally looked like he was shrinking back, his hands fixed at covering his crotch and his feet stumbling back just a few steps. If there ever was a look of regret, there it was on that boy’s face.
Xabi hopped up to sit on his desk. He made a vague gesture at Fernando to carry on. Naturally, the Spaniard glanced back at him blankly.
The Basque rolled his eyes, “Let me see you hard.” And he said it like it was the most expected thing in the world.
Fernando gulped – “You mean” – he looked down at his dick apprehensively.
Xabi kicked his heels against the front of the desk. “Yes.”
“Is this really necessary?”
The red on Xabi’s face was positively glowing and he spat out exaggeratedly, “Why, no, Fernando. I’m just picking on you because you’re the first and only ever job applicant here at Blacklisted. That’s why I’m throwing everything but the kitchen sink at you.”
Before the boy could even wince, Xabi added with a raised tone and a finger to the door, “For crying out loud, just fucking do it or get out of my office!”
Needless to say, temperance wasn’t one of Xabi’s strong points.
Fernando’s head immediately snapped up in attention, and Xabi knew he had him now. “No, I-I’ll do it, just don’t... I really need this job.”
He wiped his palms nervously against the sides of his pale thighs, and Xabi could see the way his fingers mildly shook. Then, with such an audible gasp for air, Fernando finally wrapped his wrist around his soft cock and started stroking it lightly. Xabi felt such a disturbing rush of authority, he remembered why boys like Fernando had to be snapped up and put in front of a camera.
But Fernando looked so determined, so absorbed – he was absolutely fucking it up. Xabi sighed softly, watching the boy trying to get himself up but failing horribly. Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore, he leaned back on the mahogany surface of his desk and started rooting around in one of the drawers.
Last month, their sponsor, KY Jelly, sent them packets of their new products. He was sure he stashed some of that lube in here somewhere. After filing through his junk for a few more seconds – file photos of his porn stars, financial reports from three years past and, hey, that kinky note Mikel sent him underneath the stash of billing letters he got a few days ago – he finally found a dusty packet.
Blowing the dirt off, Xabi tore it open and then poured the cold lube in his hands. He rubbed his palms together to heat it up, and Fernando looked up – a mixture of worry and curiosity.
“Let me do it,” Xabi said softly, trying not to sound like he was admonishing the boy again. He beckoned him over with one finger, and Fernando immediately stepped forward until he was in front of Xabi on the desk, their kneecaps bumping at each other with the slightest movement.
“Sorry, I...” Fernando trailed off into a soft moan as Xabi experimentally ran his thumb over the head of Fernando’s cock. He bit his lip in embarrassment at being so obvious.
“No, go on,” Xabi chuckled low in his throat, “I know I give a good handjob.”
Fernando struggled to remain calm, so just to test his limits, Xabi he tightened his fist and twisted it hard down the shaft of Fernando’s cock.
Fernando’s eyes fluttered close and his eyebrows knitted together. God, he was good.
The sound of a ringing phone jolted him out of his preoccupation. With his free hand, Xabi dug into his pocket to find his mobile. Checking the screen briefly, he flipped it open and pressed it against his ear –
“Iker.”
“Xabi, hola.”
“I’m kind of busy right now.”
“You won’t believe this, Cesc is asking for a bigger dressing room and a greater cut in profits,” Iker continued, as if Xabi didn’t even speak.
Xabi sighed as he listened to Iker ranting about his top dog. He pursed his lips to refrain from making snarky comments and instead concentrated back on running his fingers teasingly over the underside of Fernando’s hardening cock. The boy mewled instantly.
“Seriously, who does he think he is? What makes him think he can get away with all these crazy demands?”
“Because you indulge him, Iker,” Xabi rolled his eyes. He kept the phone in place between his shoulder and ear, and with his freed-up hand, he cradled Fernando’s balls. The newcomer almost cried out in surprise and shuddering pleasure.
“For fuck’s sake, I only gave him his own dressing room before and a lot more projects than the others because he was good. Jesus, when we released a new clip of his, the euros came pouring in, it was crazy. Especially when we released that bondage flick? That was a good year.”
Xabi scoffed so violently, he accidentally squeezed Fernando’s cock with a little too much force. The blonde yelped in pain, knees buckling beneath him. Fernando was panting heavily now, he leaned forward to support himself on the desk. He bent forward, almost curved on top of Xabi on the table.
“Yeah, you give benefits to your star. But giving him a share of the profits? That’s kind of stupid, Iker. I’m surprised all your other talents didn’t hold some sort of sex strike.”
Iker sighed heavily, and Xabi could imagine him running his hand exasperatedly over that gorgeous jaw of his.
“Remind me again why I did that?”
“Because you like fucking his boy pussy,” Xabi replied blankly.
“Oh. Oh, right.”
Xabi tugged at Fernando’s cock with rapid efficiency now, and he could feel Fernando shivering above him, his chest heaving and his breath coming out in short bursts, hot as it blew against the side of his face. Fernando licked his parched lips as he watched Xabi, with this sexy look of absolute determination set on his classic good looks. His eyes were intense as he focused both on jacking off Fernando’s cock and arguing with Iker on the phone.
Then, not being able to stop himself, Fernando leaned forward and licked at the soft flesh behind Xabi’s ear. The way Xabi let out a surprised groan made Fernando even harder.
“Fuck it, Xabi, what the hell are you up to over there?” Iker demanded. “I’ve been hearing funny sounds all throughout this call.”
Xabi gritted his teeth and pushed himself upwards, letting Fernando suckle at his neck hungrily. “Good boy,” he commended breathlessly into Fernando’s hair.
“Xabier!” Iker scolded.
“I told you – I’m busy.”
“Right, Alonso.”
“I’ll call you later.”
“No, tell me what’s happening!” Iker nagged.
“New boy. Hot mouth.”
There was a pause, and Xabi could just see the wicked grin spread along Iker’s face. “Hmm.”
“Call you later, Iker.”
“Send me pictures, Xabi.”
“Good bye.”
Xabi let his phone clatter to the desk noisily. Fernando pulled away unsurely.
“I guess you’re not really as shy as you let on,” Xabi threw him a crooked grin, and Fernando returned it.
The Basque removed his hand from Fernando’s now throbbing hard-on, and Fernando protested at the back of his throat.
“You’re perfectly hard now,” Xabi said, slipping away from underneath the other Spaniard. “Now, keep it that way.”
He went around his desk and retrieved his camera from his messenger bag. As he waited for it to switch on, he looked up at Fernando and grinned at him sneakily, “For documentation purposes only.”
Fernando let out a nervous laugh. Xabi instructed him to move back so he could shoot him full-body. Looking into the viewfinder, Xabi adjusted the lens until Fernando’s lithe body came into focus. However, the boy automatically tensed again and covered his erection with his hands.
Xabi’s eyes narrowed dangerously. You’d think this brat would know the drill by now.
“Fernando, this is a porn company. I’m sure I have handcuffs somewhere in this room. If you don’t put your hands behind your back right now, I’m going to cuff you to a chair and god forbid I don’t do anything to you other than take your pictures.”
In a flash, Fernando immediately clasped his hands behind his back.
“There, grab your cock again for me, babe.”
Fernando reluctantly took hold of his dick and looked at the camera. Xabi nodded tersely and clicked away.
“Okay, now sit down on the couch. Yeah, that’s it. Open your legs – yeah, just like that. Now, tilt your head back,” Xabi gave an endless flow of instructions as he moved around Fernando, taking shots at different distances and angles. After a couple more shots, he put down his camera.
“Now, turn around, kid.”
Fernando opened his mouth to protest, but he immediately held himself back and just did as he was told.
“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” Xabi asked, pulling the boy back by the waist. He poured more lube into his hands and started massaging Fernando’s ass. Fernando immediately tensed, shoulders rising to his ears, muscles coiling tightly.
“Oh, god, please don’t tell me you’re a virgin.”
“I’ve had sex with guys before,” Fernando choked out nervously, head turned around, helplessly trying to see what Xabi was going to do next.
“Anal sex?” Xabi demanded, running his fingers down the crack of Fernando’s ass. The younger Spaniard started shaking again.
“Uh, maybe a handjob and a couple of blowjobs,” Fernando answered quietly, already wincing in anticipation of the tongue-lashing Xabi was going to give him.
But Xabi was unexpectedly quiet. He just made good work of lining Fernando’s pucker with dollops of lube.
“Relax,” Xabi instructed coldly as he pushed the tip of his index finger in. Fernando whimpered and clenched even tighter. Xabi gritted his teeth and lost his patience. In a flash, he sent his palm smacking loudly against the flesh of Fernando’s ass.
“I said, relax!” Xabi half-shouted.
Fernando whimpered louder, his skin stung and his heart was crashing loudly against his rib cage in unparalleled anxiety. Sighing loudly, Xabi reached under Fernando and started stroking his cock again with one hand, in a bid to calm him down. Then, with the other, he tried pushing his index finger in again. It slid in this time – not easily, but the ring of muscle gave in just enough.
“It’s not so bad, it’s just one finger,” Xabi said, moving his finger around gingerly inside Fernando. He could see the Spaniard gripping the edges of the seat in front of him so tightly, his knuckles were turning white. Xabi continued playing with Fernando’s hard-on, until his breathing slowed down just a little.
“You sure you’ve never had anything up here yet?” Xabi asked and his tone was almost conversational or bored. Fernando shook his head wordlessly, eyes still screwed shut.
“Not even a finger?” Xabi asked again, as he moved the digit around to feel at the soft, unadulterated walls of flesh inside Fernando. “...Or a cock? Not even a toy?”
Fernando groaned, “No, I swear, this is the first.”
Xabi grinned to himself. “Do you like it?” He pushed his finger deeper, and it barely brushed against the node of Fernando’s prostate. Fernando let out a strangled scream, “Yes!”
“You want a cock up your ass when we shoot your first film?”
Fernando didn’t answer but he pushed persistently against Xabi’s finger, trying to find that sensation again. “A-anything, whatever you say.”
“Right, now come for me,” Xabi coaxed against the shell of Fernando’s ear, hands working at both his ass and cock. “Come the way you’ll come for my cameras.”
Fernando thrust forward and back more desperately now. He hadn’t felt anything like this before, it didn’t take him long until he was pouring his seed all over Xabi’s palm, a cry of relief spilling from his lips.
Xabi spun him around bonelessly and brought his hand up to Fernando’s lips. Fernando’s never tasted come before, but in his half-daze, he didn’t even think twice as he slipped Xabi’s stained fingers into his lips and sucked on it obediently, making sure he cleaned every digit of the bitter fluid.
“That’s it, kid,” Xabi murmured, eyes dark and breathing just a little bit heavier.
When they were both sated, Xabi instructed Fernando to dress up. He pressed the button on his intercom and paged for his secretary to come in. In a few seconds, Mikel knocked on the door and peered inside.
“Come in, Mikel,” Xabi instructed.
The other Basque cautiously entered, and Xabi saw him take a fleeting gaze at Fernando tiredly pulling his shirt over his head.
Mikel gave a low whistle as he approached Xabi, “How was it?”
But Xabi didn’t dignify these kinds of questions – they were beneath him. Instead, he took his camera and shoved it into Mikel’s arms, “Take this to Carra. I’ve got a dozen or so shots of the new boy, tell him to find him a partner.”
Then, Xabi looked at Fernando who was now putting on his jacket. “We shoot next week. Leave your contact details outside by the logbook and we’ll get in touch with you.”
Fernando nodded once and made his way to the door, mumbling a quick and shy thank you.
“Oh, and Fernando?” Xabi called out.
Fernando paused, halfway between scared and intrigued. “Yes?” He managed to cough out.
Xabi winked, “Break in that ass already.”
The rate at which Fernando’s face burned up was remarkable. He ducked his head and practically ran out the door.
“You didn’t have to terrorise him, Xabier,” Mikel tutted.
“It’s best to give him a reality check now,” Xabi answered back.
“Anyway, I should go if I want to catch Carra,” Mikel said, waving the camera in reminder, but Xabi’s grip on his arm was tight.
“Before that,” Xabi said, his lips forming a steely smile that didn’t quite reach his lust-filled eyes. Mikel’s gaze immediately dropped to the straining bulge in Xabi’s jeans.
“You mind taking care of that for me, Mikel?” Xabi asked sweetly.
Mikel grinned, placing the camera on the desk carefully. “Whatever you say, boss.”