Justin slips back through the door onto the sound stage, it’s one of those sliding ones that go floor to ceiling. Justin guesses it so big props can be wheeled in. Chris doesn’t react at first. He's flopped, head down, hanging from his wrists. Well, he’s not hanging exactly, both his feet are on the cold tiles but when he relaxes his upper body it’s eerily convincing.
It’s been less than 15 minutes since everyone has cleared out for lunch, leaving a protesting Chris still very much attached to the crucifix that's set up in the corner with the black fabric draped behind it. Justin, like everyone else, had assumed they’d be some sort of safety knot that pulled loose in the event of a fire, but apparently not. Naturally, they’d all thought it would be very funny to leave Chris where he was while they went to lunch. Justin had volunteered to go and rescue him after everyone got outside and had an attack of conscience. Justin can’t claim that his motives are entirely pure, however.
It’s day two of filming so no extras. Technically, none of them need to be there. But they might be needed for b-role, and besides no one had wanted to miss the opportunity to see Chris cosplaying as goth Jesus.
And he looks good. Sanguine and sticky, with his hair hanging down lank beneath the crown of thorns. Justin’s into it. So into it in fact he’s had a rather un-Christian idea.
He’s been mulling it over all morning — since Chris had pulled at the ropes at his wrists and noticed there was no give in them — and the perfect opportunity had presented itself. So he closes the door at his back and moves towards Chris, boots loud on the tiles.
‘Justin!’ Chris says, immediately popping up and squirming. ‘Dude, c’mon my hands are going numb, please.’ Justin eyes him, amused by his desperation. Beneath a bare blood-streaked chest, Chris is wearing what looks like old gym shorts and they’re so incongruous with the rest of the ensemble Justin grins as he slips a finger under the waistband.
‘What’re you—’ Chris starts, frowning. Justin grins more, now he looks like confused goth Jesus. Maybe the get-up just makes everything he does 10 times funnier.
‘Please what?’ Justin interrupts, pulling a little on the fabric before letting it snap back. Chris opens his mouth, frowning more.
‘Please… let me down?’ Chris says slowly, looking at Justin like he’s missing something. Justin smiles, lifting his hand to trace the cut of each of his hips this time. Chris quivers just slightly.
‘What—’ Chris starts again but then Justin fits his hand between Chris’ thighs, squeezing as he steps in close. Justin can feel Chris’ shocked exhale against his cheek.
‘Dude—’ Chris groans, pushing into his hand, fists curling against the restraints.
‘Yeah?’ Justin says, turning to kiss Chris slowly on the mouth. Chris groans again as Justin starts to feel his dick through his clothes. Justin traces the outline appreciatively.
‘We can’t—’ Chris says, before moaning more, ‘J, there’s people, c’mon—’ Chris grunts as Justin thumbs the head of his cock through his short.
‘It’s just you and me here, baby,’ Justin says, pecking his mouth again, ‘—just you and me.’ Chris hums, hips ticking a little into Justin’s hand.
‘I’m gonna suck your dick,’ Justin tells him, hands on his bloody stomach now. Chris snorts.
‘I fucking knew it,’ he says, laughing. ‘What is it — the blood?’ Justin shrugs. He’s not totally sure himself. Something about how vulnerable Chris is, all bloody and strung up like he is. Something about Chris’ black hair and blacker eyes, popping in his pale face. Something about him not being able to escape.
‘So?’ Justin says, pulling a little on the strings of Chris’ shorts. Chris laughs again, smothering the sound against his bicep.
‘You’re the one who’s going to get caught with a dick in your mouth,’ Chris says, at last. Justin grins, hooking his thumbs under Chris’ waistband and pulls his shorts and underwear down in one. Chris is hard; his dick thick and throbbing when Justin gets a hand around it.
‘Looks like I’m not the only one who’s a little hot and bothered,’ Justin murmurs, smoothing his thumb over the head of Chris’ cock. ‘I guess you like the blood too, huh?’ Chris moans softly, squirming. Justin kisses his mouth and lets go of his cock.
‘You really can’t get loose?’ he says as he steps back. Chris’ eyes snap to his, wide and panicked, and Justin smirks. He’s quite a sight. Flushed and hard, helpless against the restraints — still glistening with fake blood. Chris opens his mouth a little, eyes still on Justin.
‘Maybe I should leave you like this,’ Justin says, letting his eyes drop to Chris’ cock. ‘Let everyone come back and find you.’ Chris gives a low whine and Justin chuckles, ‘—you’d love that wouldn’t you? Fucking slut.’
‘Justin,’ Chris says, voice tight. He pushes out his hips, trying to tempt Justin to touch him. Justin is surprised by how effective this technique is. He steps up to Chris again, giving him a hard kiss. Chris kisses him back, greedy and grateful. Justin pulls back.
‘Tell me what you want,’ Justin says, running his finger lightly along the underside of Chris' dick. Chris moans, eyelashes flickering.
‘I want—’ he stops gasping as Justin reaches lower, rolling his balls in his hand. He swallows, shuddering, and Justin kisses the side of his mouth. ‘I want you to suck my dick.’ Justin grins.
‘Mm, since you asked so nicely,’ Justin says, closing his teeth around the stud in the centre of Chris’ lip and pulling lightly. Chris groans, huffing a hot breath into Justin’s mouth.
Justin lets him go before kissing his cheek and getting on his knees. He nuzzles into Chris’ crotch to make him whine again. Which he does loudly, straining against the cross again, as Justin nips at the skin below his navel and over his hip bone. Justin takes a deep breath of the musty smell of his skin.
‘C’mon,’ he says, running his tongue down the length of Chris’ cock, ‘—moan from me, slut.’ Chris moans, high in his chest. Writhing as Justin takes his cock into his mouth, Chris is pulling so hard Justin is sure his wrists will be bruised later. Justin sucks him, eyes flicking up to his face. Chris is looking back, eyes glassy.
Justin flicks his tongue, letting Chris’ cock slide in his mouth. Chris groans softly, hips twitching into him. Justin puts his hands on Chris’ thighs, giving him something to thrust against.
Justin curls his tongue around the head of Chris’ cock. Chris whines again and Justin groans softly; he’s hot now, sweat prickling between his pecs as Chris pushes deeper. And Justin's cock is throbbing insistently but he wants to focus on Chris.
He wants to focus on the way Chris feels in his mouth; the stretch in his jaw, the smooth hot skin sliding against his tongue, the kind of tangy smell of his skin mixed with the sweetish, chemically smell of the fake blood he’s starting to sweat off. Chris’ cock is thick and pulsing in his mouth and the high pitched noises he’s making are driving Justin wild.
‘J, I-I’m—’ Chris gasps and Justin pulls off his cock. Chris makes a sharp needy noise, practically pushing up onto his toes following Justin’s mouth.
‘You want something, baby?’ Justin says, reaching up to stroke Chris’ dick.
‘Please—’ Chris says, panting. His hips are rocking helplessly against Justin’s hands. Justin grins up at him. He’s flushing under his make-up, hair starting to curl at the ends where he’s sweating. Justin runs his tongue up the length of his cock again before taking it back into his mouth. Chris moans. Justin holds his hips giving him some resistance as he fucks into his mouth.
‘Justin, I’m—’ Chris says rhythm stuttering and slowing. ‘Please, I’m— can’t—’ Justin meets his eyes and Chris looks back, eyes wild and desperate. Justin dips his chin so Chris will be able to feel him nod if nothing else. Still, it takes a moment for Chris to realise he has permission, but then Justin sucks him hard and he’s coming, hot and thick in Justin’s mouth. Chris whines, low and strained as he arches.
Justin mouths him through it, squeezing his thighs. When Chris’ body softens, muscles relaxing, Justin pulls off him. He doesn’t swallow. He stands, catching Chris’ chin and hooking a thumb into his mouth to force it open. He kisses Chris letting his come into Chris' mouth, feeling him shudder hard at the taste of it. Justin sticks his tongue in his mouth briefly before pulling back.
Justin wipes his hand across the back of his mouth, eyeing Chris. He looks even better, eyes unfocused and mouth smudged with come and saliva. Justin reaches out a hand to touch Chris’ wet mouth. Chris sucks his fingers obediently, eyes on his face. Justin gently removes his hand.
‘Well, I’m done with you,’ Justin says, ‘—guess I’ll leave you up there for whoever comes in next.’
‘J, c’mon,’ Chris says, scoffing. But Justin just smiles at the expression of dawning horror on Chris’ face; it’s almost enough to make him come on the spot. Justin takes a step back and then another.
‘J, Justin, dude—’ Chris calls as Justin moves even further back, ‘Justin, don’t you fucking dare—’
Justin just smirks as he pulls the door back across.