Notes: Cowritten with llassah.
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llassah: My friend called him Huge Dillon once by mistake
lordessrenegade: And he's a rock star too!
llassah: With trousers with an inner pocket so he doesn't dork out. Because before, Hugh was in pain, and grumpy all the time. And his cock was all chafed. There was danger of calluses, and so Cal had a plan. He went to a tailor with a pair of suit pants and asked him to make some, uh, adjustments.
lordessrenegade: And he presented them to Hugh, who loved them so much that he fucked Callum over the back of the foofy couch. With the pants on, open just enough.
llassah: And they were both happy.
lordessrenegade: It's like a fairy tale! Everyone lives happily ever after (with their huge cocks).
llassah: Yes! Why don't fairytales involve cocks, dammit? And now I can see Hugh Dillon in a fairy outfit�
lordessrenegade: And he's so pissed off about it, with these big purple filmy wings and a little frilly tutu....
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He wants to shove the wand sideways up Paul's ass, because it was his stupid fucking dare in the first place, but then Callum's got him pressed up against the wall, with his head under the tutu and his lips on Hugh's dick, and Hugh can feel the wings brushing against the back of his legs. And he doesn't want to like it, but the fact is he's never been so turned on in his whole fucking life.
Paul's just watching, with this half smile on his face, and Hugh wants to turn away, but something about the look Paul's giving him is just making him hotter. He's suddenly finding out that he's got an exhibitionist streak he never really thought about before.
"Tease him a bit, Cal," Paul says, shit eating grin on his face.
And then Callum's lips are gone from his cock, are pressing kisses against his thigh, his hipbone, his fingers reaching back to just barely brush the crack of his ass. Hugh reaches down and tangles his fingers into Callum's hair, rough and demanding, and Callum looks up at him over the brim of the tutu. He can't see Callum's mouth, but his eyes are smirking at him, mocking him.
"Invitation got lost in the fucking mail, Rennie?" he half gasps, half snarls. The wings are a constant tickle against his knees now, and the heels hurt like a bitch. Callum just winks, the fucker, ignoring the tugging on his hair. "Play nice now, petal." Paul's voice has smugness to it now, a smugness that would have made Hugh go over there and make him eat dust, if Cal hadn't chosen that moment to run his tongue up the underside of his cock, a broad swipe that nearly makes his knees give way.
He groans, and Paul leans in, that grin still plastered across his fucking perfect face. "What's that? You're going to have to speak up," he says, and Hugh wants to take a swing at him, feels the muscles in his arm twitching, but then one of Callum's hands comes up and traps his wrist against the wall, long fingers pressing into his skin. And he's still teasing, the fucker, his tongue licking around the head of Hugh's cock like it's a lollipop, a fucking popsicle. Hugh's hips come up off the wall, trying to shove deeper into his mouth, and Callum just rocks back on his heels, out of his reach, his tongue still tracing maddening patterns against his burning skin. All he can do is clench his other fist, wait for Paul to get closer so he can take a swing at him and hope Callum gets bored of teasing him.
He never will. Hugh knows this, really, knows that once Callum's there, and he's available to be played with, Cal's patience is endless. He's as fucking zen about cocksucking as he is about golf.
Paul steps closer to him, on the side where Callum has his hand gripped, and strokes the strap of the wings, fingers just brushing his shoulder. Then he bends over it, licks from strap to bare shoulder. Hugh doesn't want to shiver. Guys don't shiver. But, then, guys don't generally wear big purple fairy wings either, and he can't keep his skin from twitching as the air cools on the wet stripe left by Paul's tongue. Callum leans back, completely out of reach now, and he's watching them, one hand still pressing Hugh's into the wall, the other reaching up to take the place of his mouth, jerking him so fucking slowly, so fucking good, while Paul leans in a little closer and sucks at his collarbone, biting just a little, leaving a mark on his skin.
Suddenly Hugh needs something, something to stop him whimpering and begging as Paul moves up to the tendons of his neck. He brings his free hand up to his mouth, bites down on his wrist, the twist of pain making the pleasure more real somehow. He's dimly aware of Callum standing up, and then his wrist is being taken out of his mouth and Callum's kissing him, deep and dirty, and he can whimper into his mouth as Paul whispers words like 'slut' and 'fuck' into his ear between bites.
Callum's still got his hand around him, stroking faster, harder, in the same rhythm that their tongues are twisting together, and then he can feel another hand, broader, warmer, its fingers tangling with Callum's, matching his thrusts, and Hugh cries out against Callum's lips, his knees shaking, close to giving out under him from the force of the pleasure ripping through him, the feeling of Callum's lips against his, Paul's mouth sucking on his earlobe, their hands stroking him together.
He feels Paul's arm slide around his back, his fingers digging into Hugh's side, holding him and hurting him all at the same time. He can't move now, tangled in between them, Paul's cock pressing into his side as he tries to arch off the wall, tries to cry out. But he's held silent as orgasm rips through him, Paul and Callum's hands staying steady and ruthless as the pleasurepain of it nearly makes him black out. He sags back against the wall, leans into Paul as Paul's cock slides across the silky fabric of his dress with a roughsmooth sound that matches his shallow gasps.
Callum brings their joined hands across to Paul's cock. Their fingers tangle in the fabric of Hugh's dress, pressing it against Paul's skin as he thrusts raggedly against Hugh, all semblance of control gone. His forehead is pressed to Hugh's shoulder as he comes, the wings sliding smoothly against the skin of his arm. Hugh can feel the air brushing his chest as Paul catches his breath, and then Paul is straightening up, taking Callum by the shoulders, turning the three of them until Callum is the one pressed up against the wall.
Then he's kissing Callum, deep and posessive, and Hugh isn't going to take that shit, not from Paul fucking Gross. He drops to his knees and takes Callum's dick into his mouth all in one motion, one hand wrapping around the base of it, stroking him, the other bracing himself against the wall, feeling the wings bobbing absurdly behind him. He makes it quick, brutal, a suckerpunch of a blowjob. He wants to rip it out of Callum, show him what he owns, what Callum will never get from anyone else. Callum's so far gone he doesn't even bother making his hands gentle; his knuckles dig into Hugh's skull as his hips jerk, twitchy.
Hugh presses his tongue to the underside of his dick, comes off so his lips are around just the crown, then slides down with just enough teeth to scare him, lips meeting the hand at the base of Callum's dick. Callum groans loudly into Paul's mouth, and Hugh does it again with a little more teeth, hand going from the base of his dick to his balls and then back. The next time he does it, he circles Callum's asshole with a finger and it's enough to set him off, coming in hot spurts down Hugh's throat with only Paul to stop him collapsing on the floor.
Hugh stands, ignoring the protest in his knees that's telling him he's way too old for this shit. Callum's collapsed back against the wall with Paul's arm around his waist, and he lets his head drop forward onto Hugh's shoulder, breathing unevenly. They stand there like that for a few minutes, Paul and Hugh looking at each other over Callum's head, fighting a war with their eyes. When Callum finally looks up at them, Hugh tears his eyes away to see him shaking his head, smirking at them both. He pushes them away and stands on his own, crossing to the door without saying a word.
"What?" Paul asks, his brow twisting into a frown.
"He thinks you have a small dick," Hugh tells him, and follows Callum to the door.
"Fucking fairy," Paul mutters to the empty room, and bursts out laughing as Hugh's wings catch on the doorframe on his way out.