Gone Fishing

By Milly3c

This is an Edward/Jasper story set in the world of Corbin Fisher. Apart from names and a smattering of details, the CF world is entirely made up by me (starting with the fact that there are no girls in my CF films!)

If you are offended by male/male sex, pornography or sex for money then this is NOT the story for you. However if you are not offended and are over 18 then this is a sexy/fluffy/angsty good old fashioned romance, so dive in!

If you would like to visit the Corbin Fisher website to find out more about them and see pictures of gorgeous guys visit my profile for a link. (Obviously, for over 18's only)

The wonderful Mina Rivera has made a beautiful banner for the story, which you can also find on my profile.

Thank you to Mkmmsm Fanfiction for pre-reading for me and to sue273 for doing a brilliant job of beta-ing.

Thanks also to my FaceBook friends for all the inspiration!

Also, I don't own anything Twilight, or Corbin Fisher (I wish!) I make no profit only have fun.

Chapter One

"I'm sorry, Sir. This ticket is non-refundable and it's dated for two weeks from now. If you want to fly today you'll have to purchase another ticket." The check-in girl pasted a completely non-apologetic smile on her impeccably made-up face and waited. She was going to have a long wait if she was hoping to sell me a ticket.

I sighed and scrubbed my hands through my hair in my usual helpless fashion. I should have known fate hadn't finished with me yet. "I can't afford another ticket and I need to get home," I groaned, pleading at her. Her expression didn't alter one bit, her plastic smile stayed fixed firmly in place. I could tell that losing my shit at her wouldn't help; it was time to pull out the big guns. I leaned forward on the counter, tilted my head just a little and gave her my best puppy-dog look. I even threw in a bit of a lip quiver. "Can't you please just cancel this ticket and book another seat instead?" It turned out she was a cat person.

So here I was sitting in McCarren Airport, Las Vegas, with about twenty-four bucks to my name. Nowhere to go, no way to get home, no home to go to actually thinking about it and things were looking pretty bleak. I shoved my hands deep into my empty pockets, hunched my shoulders defensively and slid a little further down in the uncomfortable seat. I really shouldn't have just grabbed a job offer without looking into it better first. I knew that but I had been so desperate to get away from my hometown, so in need of the money and just well, desperate full stop. So here I was. Stuck.

Tanya had left me. Well, first she kicked me out of the apartment we had shared, dumped all my stuff outside, cleared out our joint account and moved in with her two best friends. One woman is hard enough to handle. Arguing with three would scare the shit out of me. So I had crawled away licking my wounds and reflected that it hadn't been that great a relationship any way. None of mine ever had been.

"It's like sleeping with a corpse, Edward!" she had screamed at me. "If it weren't for the rigor mortis, you'd have never got it up." Now I wouldn't have minded sitting down and having a serious conversation about what she obviously saw as my lack of well, anything, in bed, but I didn't much care for having it screamed at me through the window while she threw the last of my stuff out at me. In retrospect, I think it might have been a mistake to casually ask her if she had ever considered getting a breast reduction, while we were having sex.

What? Those things are just off-putting, jiggling and wobbling all over the place. I probably shouldn't have mentioned it though. Hence, the screaming, the throwing out, the breaking up and the subsequent homelessness.

And I didn't fight it because she was right. We got on fine together until sex was involved and then it all just went to shit. The fact was I wasn't that interested in it and I was pretty crap at it. She put up with me because I was a good-looking guy and her friends were jealous when I was out with her.

I sighed wearily and slunk down even lower on the hard seat in the middle of the busy airport concourse, nudging my precious bags, which were gathered around my feet, closer together. I spent nearly every cent I made on my equipment and I didn't want to have any of it stolen on top of everything else today. I risked a glance upwards nervously. God, or whoever was in charge up there, might not have finished messing with me. Surely, I deserved a break by now. Wasn't getting stuck here enough of a punishment?

A friend of a friend of, well, a complete stranger to be honest, told me about a job. Two weeks easy money - just turn up, do your thing and then go home again. I recklessly spent the last of my cash on the cheapest return plane ticket I could get and just turned up to do my thing. You see, although I'm good at what I do, hell, I'm really good, I don't actually have a bit of paper that says I'm good at it. I dropped out okay? After finally managing to save enough to go to college in the first place, I couldn't afford the last six months of tuition so I am the proud holder of two and a half years of Media and Production training but no degree. No degree means no job offers and no job offers means that when your girlfriend kicks you out and a friend of a friend of a complete stranger says you can have two weeks' work filming porn videos no questions asked, you buy a plane ticket.

I'd never worked in the porn…er, adult industry before. But how hard could it be? I'd tried to convince myself. I'd filmed all sorts of things as part of my 5/6th of a degree and even more in the three years since; I figured that naked people were just something else to point a camera at. And that I'd never put it on my resume. It wasn't as if I'd go and embarrass myself or anything. Watching porn did very little for me. And believe me, I'd tried. I'd tried watching girl on girl; I mean, that's hot right? But no, it just didn't do it for me. I enjoyed the traditional guy/girl a bit more. Watching a girl being pounded is okay if you can ignore the jigging breasts thing, but it never turned me on so much that it was, well, noticeable. Therefore, I'd figured that would make me the perfect guy to film porn.

Not quite perfect. As it turned out, I had a conscience.

As soon as I'd landed in hot, dusty Las Vegas this morning, I'd taken a cab straight from the airport to the address they'd sent me. I became increasingly worried by the run-down buildings that lined the road the further the cab went. This was a huge city, bigger than anywhere I'd been before and the first impression at the modern airport as I looked out across the runways towards the famous Luxor Casino and the glitz of the strip might have been on another planet compared to the mean streets I travelled on. Boarded up windows, trash blowing down the street - it didn't look inviting. Finally, the driver had stopped outside a building that only loosely resembled one. It had four walls and a roof, but not necessarily all joined together. I hesitated before getting out of the cab, but told myself I needed this job no matter what. I struggled to get all my bags out and just about managed not to scream, "How much?" when the cabbie told me the fare. I had a bad feeling about this. As soon as I had paid him, the cab driver peeled quickly away from the curb, highly pissed off at my miserly tip, which was all I'd been able to give him. I had been left nervously standing on the sidewalk, knowing belatedly that this had been a huge mistake, but one I just had to get on with. With my precious camera and equipment bags slung around my body and gripped tightly in my hands, I had stepped forward and pushed against the building's grimy door half-expecting the place to just topple in on itself, but surprisingly, neither the door nor the wall budged.

Should I knock I had thought? Did you knock on doors of buildings that might fall down - in parts of town that you probably shouldn't announce your presence?

I was actually saved from having to make that decision as the door was pulled sharply open from the inside and a huge man glowered out at me. Huge. I mean it. It wasn't a narrow door and his shoulders had disappeared into the shadows on either side of it.

"What?" he growled. Have to tell you, I was shitting myself. I'd take on Tanya and her cohorts any day rather than that guy.

"Um…I'm looking for…" Well shit, I couldn't even remember the guy's name. To get the bit of paper with his name scribbled on it out of my jeans pocket, I would have had to put down my bags and that was not going to happen on this street. So I 'um'ed' like an idiot and nervously waited to see what would happen.

"And just who the fuck are you?" the big guy spat back. They really needed to work on their customer relations.

"I'm um…" I really hadn't wanted to give him my name. I think I was afraid that if I told him it, he'd steal it.

"I'm a videographer, I've been hired…"

"A what?"

"Um… a camera man. For filming. Videos…"

"Masen." Turned out he'd stolen my name already.

"Yes," I replied weakly, and gripped onto my bags more tightly. You never knew.

"He's expecting you. Get in here, we're behind schedule." Not exactly a warm welcome to the company. My mouth as dry as the surrounding desert, I followed him into the dimly lit building and felt a shudder of apprehension chase up my spine as he shut and re-locked the door behind me. I knew without a shadow of a doubt that this had been a mistake. I knew it even more ten minutes later.

He led me away from the relative safety of the door and into the gloom of a huge warehouse type of place and I looked around me, half-curious, half-scared shitless. There were a series of rooms inside the building, all set up as different sets. A bedroom, of course, an office, equally of course, a prison - not so sure about that one - and a torture chamber. Definitely not my thing. But it wasn't the sets that had worried me - it was the actors. I saw girls. Girls who did not all look like they wanted to be there. And big guys standing around making sure that they didn't go anywhere. I swallowed nervously, calling myself every name under the sun for getting myself into this. I really, really knew I had made a huge mistake. If these girls were more than sixteen, I'd eat my camera. And the bag.

There was a low budget, transient sort of look to the place as if nothing was so important it couldn't be left behind at a moment's notice and I'd realised that that was probably what was going to happen. My steps slowed and I had a good hard talk with myself for about two seconds. It didn't take any longer than that. I knew that this was wrong and that I wanted out.

A few of the girls had looked at me curiously but none of the big guys had taken any notice of me. The big scary doorman had disappeared into the gloom in front of me and I was left alone, clutching my bags among a small crowd of people that I didn't want to be a part. Despite my complete aversion to confrontation, I had taken a small tentative step backwards and waited. No one took any notice. Cautiously releasing the breath I was holding, I took two more backwards steps. There was still no reaction around me. Gripping onto my bags for dear life, with my stomach churning and my heart pounding, I had turned and tried not to run back towards the door. Every part of me wanted to break into a sprint.

The door was firmly locked from the inside but I fumbled with the locks, wrenched it open and stumbled through. I just started walking in what I hoped was the direction the cab had come from. That had all been so wrong. So very wrong. I should have known. I should have realised that no one hires a videographer with no degree and no credentials except scummy adult entertainment people who get their 'actors' from God alone knew where. I walked faster. I'd never fall for such a job offer again. I'd never even consider working in such a sleazy industry. I walked faster still, breaking into a jog despite my heavy bags. I vowed I'd never even watch porn again - after all, it was a waste of my time anyway. The cracked sidewalk had flown beneath my feet as I fled my failure.

Twenty minutes later, and at last the buildings I passed didn't all look like they should be condemned and no one had tried to steal my bags, so I'd slowed down a bit and thought about my options. Well, frankly I hadn't got any. I had no money for a hotel so going back to the airport was the only thing I could have done. Once back home, I would have to crash on a friend's sofa until I managed to get back on my feet again. It was a depressing thought.

As I walked, well, okay, trudged, I saw a woman chatting animatedly into a payphone. She hung up as I got closer and I was drawn towards the phone, knowing that there was something I needed to do. Doing my best to juggle all my bags without putting any down and being thankful for the first time that I went to the gym regularly, I managed to get the receiver to my ear and dialled 911. Whatever was going on in that warehouse had to be reported.

After that, it had been a long demoralising walk back to the airport. I'd caught a bus for the last stretch, the late afternoon heat making it too much to walk any further and now, I was sitting here at check-in, unable to check-in or buy a ticket or pay for a hotel room or pretty much anything else either.

It was a shitty day, topping off what had been a shitty month. I had nothing to do but sit and people watch, and I preferred doing that to actually thinking about my own miserable situation. As I absently watched, a blonde woman was having an argument with the same check-in girl I had spoken to earlier. She didn't seem to be having any more luck than I had, and I watched enviously as she handed over her credit card crossly and was rewarded with a ticket. If only.

I could see the sun setting through the huge picture window and any other day I would have been reaching for my camera. The mix of people, sharp architecture and soft rose light were enthralling. But not today. I concentrated on watching the crowd. The airport didn't seem to have become any quieter since this morning. If anything, it was busier than it had been earlier - people flying in to enjoy a night on the strip maybe. I focused my attention on some of the people. Anything so I didn't have to think about my situation for just a few more minutes. An elderly couple ambled slowly past deep in what seemed to be a discussion about bunions, closely followed by a handful of teenagers who had broken loose from their parents and were looking to sneak off to try their luck on some of the many slot machines. I huffed amused, only in Vegas would there be slot machines next to the baggage carousels. A tall, forty-something man began pacing up and down, trying to get a signal on his cell and a harassed young mother resorted to bribery to keep her toddler quiet. All pretty normal.

I sighed. So much going on around me, and I had nothing - nothing to do, nowhere to go and no means to go anywhere anyway.

The cell phone man got a signal as he passed in front of me and began speaking into his phone. "Micha, he's a no-show. Have you heard anything from him?" I wondered vaguely why his guy hadn't shown up.

"Car accident?"

Ah, that would be why then.

"Did he say…? A few weeks. Fuck, Micha, can't he just…? Well, no, I guess you're right." The man had stopped pacing in front of me and I could hear the faint sounds of a woman's voice coming from the phone. When she paused, the tall man sighed and replied, "Okay, well is there anyone else available? Who else do we know who could do it?" He turned around and his eyes fixed on the empty space on the bench next to me. As he approached, he gestured to the space in a universal 'Is this seat free?' kind of gesture and I replied with a just as universal 'Help yourself'. I reflected for a moment that guys were so much easier to understand than women, who would have never been satisfied with a quick gesture when an entire conversation could have been had.

The man sat down wearily, rubbing the back of his neck as he continued his conversation. "I don't want to have to cancel. Most of the models have turned up on time for once."

I leaned down and pulled my bags to one side not wanting him to trip over them, before picking up my camera bag, intending to check my ruinously expensive camera over after the trying day we had had together.

"Where the hell am I going to find another camera operator at this time of day?" asked the man next to me into the phone, agitation tainting his voice. I stilled and turned, my surprised eyes meeting the equally surprised eyes of the man next to me. He looked assessingly from my waterproof, dust-proof, pretty much everything-proof camera bags to me and then muttered into the phone, "I'll call you back," before swiftly ending the call.

He frowned as he looked at me, wrinkling his bushy brows and judging me on who knows what. I began to wish that I didn't look quite so sweat-stained and frazzled. After what felt like a long time, he extended his hand towards me in another universally known gesture and said, "Hello. I'm Corbin, good to meet you."

I'm new to the world of writing Slash so please be gentle with me and let me know what you think of the first chapter!