Work Text:
The set of a Jackass movie was hardly the pinicle of workplace safety, not to mention the contract-sanctioned harassment that everyone including the crew was bound to be subjected to. Only a sadomasochist with a childish sense of humor could possibly enjoy working with these guys...and yet here you are. Having grown up with the MTV series, the news that you'd landed a camera operator job on the third film installment was honestly exciting, even with the chance of being pranked by the guys. However, you'd never admit that much of your excitement for this job stemmed from your nearly decade-long crush on Johnny Knoxville.
After months of working together, it was evident that Knoxville was just as cool and charming as he seemed on TV. Whenever he'd pat you on the shoulder or let a glance linger too long behind his dark shades, you couldn't help but feel like a giddy teenager again. There's no way he could actually be interested, he seems pretty fucking straight despite the inherit homoerotic undertones of Jackass, but a guy can dream. At the very least he's friendly, and the two of you went back and forth with a few slapstick-esque pranks throughout filming, more-so than he did with some other crewmembers. It made you feel special in a sort of bizarre way.
You were back in your small hotel room, filming having wrapped for the day, collapsed shirtless on the bed and flipping through the limited channels on the TV. You felt about ready to knock out despite it being early in the evening, but a rhythmic tapping on your door keeps you from drifting off. Flicking the TV off, you hop up to answer it, less wary of a surprise punch or a tasing than you would be on set. When you open the door, you're instead surprised by a smirking Knoxville leaning against the frame. Cool as always.
"Hey man! Tremaine and some of the guys were gonna head out to this bar down the street, supposed to have real cheap and real strong drinks, maybe chat up some girls too..." He gives you an odd stare for half a second. "Thought you'd be down, unless you're busy on a date with your left hand in there." He nods towards the rest of your room and you realize you've been standing in your boxers this whole time, as if a half-naked dude is an unusual sight to him. You scoff with a smile to hide your embarrassment, "Man fuck off, your mom and I have a great night planned." He gives you that classic Knoxville laugh, and for a moment you're relieved, until he opens his mouth again, leaning in so he's practically fully in the room now.
"Don't get too cocky, I've seen the way you look at me, pretty boy." He breathes the words in a low voice, demeanor shifting completely. You can't help but freeze up as you feel your face undoubtedly flushing red. "H-ha, shouldn't talk like that Knox, sound like a fag." The words are unconfident, you hope he's just fucking with you.
Here comes that damn laugh again.
Knoxville shoves you just hard enough to force himself the rest of the way through the door, closing it behind him. You stumble a bit before catching and steadying yourself on a bedpost. "Dude, what the fuck?" His hand grabs your waist, firmly, just short of painful. "Don't pretend, sweetheart. Everyone can tell that you're the fag, though I can't deny I feel a similar way." Your mind is caught between fear and lust and the sliver of a possibility that this is all part of some bit. "G-get off me man, seriously, or I'll scream." He chuckles into your ear, "We both know it won't come to that. You're red as a damn tomato, and I'm willing to bet on what that wet spot is in your boxers," your eyes flick down and you fight the urge to hide your face in shame.
"...Are you gonna tell the other guys...get me kicked off the movie or somethin?" Your eyes meet his. "Guess that depends, are you gonna be a good boy and listen to me now?" You freeze up again, mouth agape. He takes the opportunity to push you down to your knees, and you reluctantly allow it. This can't be happening right? Johnny fucking Knoxville wants you? Right now? What the fuck? "Stay." You silently obey as he kneels next to your equipment bag, pulling out your spare camera and turning it on. Fuck.
"Knoxville, please, this isn't funny, I'm sorry for being such a creep or whatever it is I did-" He just sits down in the desk chair across from you, smirking. "Just be a good pup, and you'll have nothing to worry about." Pup. The word makes the space between your legs even wetter. "Yes, sir," you reply quietly. His smile grows. "Oh I like that, you really are a freak, huh? Would hafta be to be so drawn to me, eh?" You nod your head, unable to deny it and already slipping into a submissive space. The teasing was turning you on, as much as you wanted to hate it. Decades of schoolyard bullying really fucks you up I guess. He points the camera at you, then presses the heel of his converse into your crotch. You let out a moan from the unexpected contact, feeling your t-dick swell. Knoxville just chuckles before grabbing a fistful of your hair. "You like that, pretty boy?" "Y-yes sir," the words come out broken and weak. He presses harder, making you gasp. "Look at you, so pretty like that, so willing for me." It strikes a chord. "Fuck off, asshole," you bark but there's no bite to it. It only makes him tug your hair roughly and tut, "ah-ah, you promised to be a good boy. Can't have you talking so filthy." He releases your hair, then the free hand darts to your chin, brushing your bottom lip. "Open." You shake your head, and he presses against your cunt even harder in turn, forcing your mouth open with a moan. He takes the opportunity to grab your jaw and spit into your mouth. You yelp before he moves the large hand to clamp over your mouth, causing you to swallow. He leans over you, "Now, are you ready to be a good pup?" Tears well up as you mumble "mm-hm" against his hand.
He releases you, letting up a bit with his heel as well. "Tell the camera, sweetheart, who do you belong to?" You take a second to breathe, shame creeping in. "Knoxville..." He smiles. "Good pup. Are you a dirty fag that likes to be tortured?" "Yes sir, I-I'm filthy." "Very good boy. I think you deserve a reward, huh?" You nod. He moves his foot to be planted on the ground in front of you. "Start grinding, pup. I wanna watch you squirm." Desperate for release, you oblige, settling on top of Knoxville's converse and holding onto a jean-clad leg for stability as you begin to rock back and forth. He laughs in satisfaction. Thin layer of fabric between your wet cunt and the canvas of Knoxville's shoe, the sensation is nearly overwhelming. You feel yourself quickly approaching climax, your breath quickening and legs shivering. Knoxville must see it, as he spits out, "Cum for me, dog." That pushes you over the edge, as filthy and shameful as it made you feel, and you grasp at his leg frantically as you ride through the orgasm.
A rough hand caresses your cheek and you tilt your head up, noticing that the camera was no longer pointed at you, then meeting Knoxville's eyes. "You're a real fuckin' sight, babe." You let out a conflicted laugh in between shallow panting. "That was fucked up." "Seemed like you enjoyed it enough," His eyes pointedly stare at the mess apparent on your boxers. "Guess we're both fucked up, then," You say with a weak smirk. Johnny bares his teeth in a devious smile before ruffling your hair, making you feel all the more like a helpless kid. He helps you to your feet and then sits you down on the edge of the hotel bed. "So, about getting drinks...?" He asks like nothing just happened, but you suppose that's better than him flat out leaving straight away. You can't help but laugh, collapsing into his chest and tentatively grasping his arms. "Sure...dick."
You wake up in your hotel room bed with a mean headache; the crew tends to party pretty hard, as expected. As you walk onto set after downing some extra-strength ibuprofen, a few of the guys are giggling. Must be some prank they're setting up. You walk up to Pontius, "Hah, what's up with you guys?" He grins as he responds, "Oh, nothing dude, but hey! Can I ask you something?" Even more confused, you glance around. "Uh...yeah?" Chris points at Ehren, holding...what looks like your camera. "Just wondering, how does Knoxville's cock taste?" They both erupt in laughter as you see the playback they're watching on your camera's screen.
Fucking asshole.