143
filling in the blanks and gaps
McFly (Dougie/Gio/Tom)
4,624 words. NC-17! And thus, porn. Threesome porn. Involving a girl, even! I've been sitting on this one since at least December, but I figured that I might as well post it while I remembered that it existed. The title is from Backwards Walk, by Frightened Rabbit. Thanks to kawaii_tenshi27, as always, for the beta!
Dougie tries to look nonchalant when he knocks on the door, other hand stuffed in his pocket. Downstairs at the bar, when Gi had leaned over to him, whispered in his ear, Tom grinning sly and sleepy-eyed over her shoulder, there was no way he could say no, his tongue loose with drink and desire.
Dougie tries to look nonchalant when he knocks on the door, other hand stuffed in his pocket. Downstairs at the bar, when Gi had leaned over to him, whispered in his ear, Tom grinning sly and sleepy-eyed over her shoulder, there was no way he could say no, his tongue loose with drink and desire. If he’s honest. Now, he’s still somewhere north of tipsy, flushed and hot all over, and having second thoughts. So when Gi opens the door he gives her a half smile, sick and anxious. “Get in here,” she says, grinning, and pulls him inside, slim fingers wrapped around his wrist. He doesn’t say anything, can’t think of what he should be saying.
He stumbles a little, tripping over his feet, and she giggles at him, looking over her shoulder. She’s not wearing a shirt, just a plain black bra and her jeans. She’s still obviously drunk, cheeks warm with it, but Dougie can’t help watching the way the muscles in her back move as she pulls him forward.
Tom’s kneeling on the bed, shirtless, a bottle of champagne clasped between his thighs. He’s still wearing his trousers, and Dougie can see the elastic of his boxers peeking out from the waist. He can see that Tom is hard, and jerks his eyes away, flushing in embarrassment and arousal. Tom’s cheeks are pink, but Dougie doesn’t know if that’s the drink or something else entirely. He hopes that it’s both.
“Hi, Doug,” Tom says, and smiles in that way that never fails to make Dougie’s breath go fast. Dougie swallows, and he still can’t think of anything to say. He nods, once, shakily, and he can’t believe that he gets this. That they want him to have this.
Gi lets go of Dougie’s wrist, then, and leaves him standing in the middle of the hotel room. She clambers up onto the mattress and wraps her fingers around the neck of the bottle, pulling it from between Tom’s legs and taking a swig. A drip runs down her chin as she drinks too much at once, and Dougie can only watch as Tom leans over to lick it away, tongue sharp and pink. He hears the sharp intake of his own gasp, and it sounds too loud, too abrupt.
Tom’s slipped his tongue into her mouth, and they’re kissing now, the sounds wet and messy. Dougie imagines that Gi’s mouth must taste bubbly and sweet, and wonders if Tom’s tastes the same. When Tom reaches a hand up to cup her left breast, fingertips rubbing just where skin meets bra, Dougie decides that he’s way too sober for this. He toes off his shoes and takes the last three steps to the bed, tugging the bottle out of Gi’s slack hand. This close, he can hear the small sounds of pleasure that she’s making, see the way Tom’s other hand is fiddling with the button on her jeans, and he gulps down champagne, letting the carbonation tingle on his tongue. It feels almost voyeuristic, like he’s intruding, but the truth is - the truth is that they asked him here. Want him here. He’s still trying to wrap his brain around that.
Tom’s hand grabs his upper arm, firm and confident, tugging him forward. It’s surprising enough that he almost loses his footing again, socks catching on the carpet. His knees hit the end of the mattress, and he lets himself fall forward, clambering up onto the bedspread. Gi’s reaching out for his hand, and he lets her pull it forward until he’s touching her other breast. He can feel her nipple, hard through the fabric of her bra, and he takes a shuddering breath. Tom’s got his arm, so the bottle is successfully out of his reach, but he wants another drink. Courage or - something.
He rubs at Gi’s nipple with two fingers, listening for the way her breath hitches. Tom’s thumb is pressing hard against the inside of his arm, and Dougie can see the way Tom’s Adam’s apple works as he swallows. He’s still kissing Gi, their lips moving in tandem - easy and comfortable and utterly, devastatingly hot - and Dougie can’t help the way he leans forward, licking at the underside of Tom’s jaw, where he can taste sweat and feel the scratch of stubble against his tongue.
“I -” he murmurs against Tom’s skin. “What. What’re we doing?” He presses his fingers more firmly over Gi’s nipple just to hear the sound she makes, and bites into the skin of Tom’s jaw.
“I thought,” Tom says, voice husky as he pulls back with a wet sound, “we’d discussed this already.” He’s tilting his head to the side so that Dougie can lick his way up toward his ear. Dougie loves the way Tom’s chest is heaving. He can see the first brush of sweat across Tom’s skin.
He wants to dip his fingers into Gi’s bra and feel the full weight of her breast in his hand. He wants to touch Tom’s chest with careful fingers. He really wants -
“No, I,” Dougie says. “You didn’t tell me who I’m sucking off.” He can feel Tom’s hand tighten on his arm, tight enough to leave marks later, and he sucks in a quick breath, lips just brushing against Tom’s jaw. He can see it - his lips on Tom’s cock, salt and bitter taste and all the power that comes with it. Gi’s legs spread wide, back arching as his tongue curls around her clit. The image almost makes him squeeze his eyes closed, and he’s hard, has been hard, just from the thought. The thought and barest touches.
Gi’s smiling wickedly when he turns his head toward her, bra strap falling down one shoulder, and she looks - beautiful, with Tom’s hand on one breast and Dougie’s still on the other, curly hair trailing down her back, the button on her jeans open, but the zipper still up.
“What do you want, Dougie?” she asks, but Dougie’s not entirely certain that it’s a question. And if it is, it’s certainly not a fair one. Tom’s hand slides down Dougie’s arm until he’s grabbing the bottle, pulling it away. Tom takes a long gulp, and Dougie watches the line of his throat as he swallows.
“I - anything, I. What do you want me to do?”
And then Tom’s pressing the bottle to his lips, tilting it back, saying, “Drink.” Dougie lets it run down his throat, but it’s too fast, slides out of the corner of his mouth, trickling down his chin and dripping off. He swallows, tries to get as much of it as he can, but Tom’s tipped the bottle too far on purpose, Dougie can tell by the way he’s watching Dougie struggle to swallow, eyes sharp and predatory. The bottle is almost empty when Tom pulls it away and kisses him, the last splash falling on his face, cheeks and chin. Tom drops the now-empty bottle on the mattress. “So sloppy,” he murmurs against Dougie’s lips. “Always making such a mess.”
Dougie can hear Gi giggling, but Tom’s tongue is in his mouth, lips soft and wet against his, and he can’t help the moan that bubbles up in his throat. He still has champagne in his mouth, and Tom must be tasting it, but he doesn’t care. Tom doesn’t seem to either. Dougie swallows the rest of it down, and Tom makes a noise, pressing closer.
And then there’s the soft touch of Gi’s hand on his jaw, the warmth of her tongue scraping over the corner of his mouth, following the path of liquid down his chin. He cups her breast in his hand, pushing at her other bra strap until it falls off her shoulder, and slides his fingers into the cup of her bra. He can’t see what he’s doing, but he can feel the breath she huffs out against his skin, tongue still searching out the taste of champagne. He rubs her nipple between his fingers, and Tom licks at the inside of his mouth, and Dougie can’t take this. Too much - it’s too much. He wraps his free hand around Tom’s bicep as he pulls back, anchoring himself, and looks at the two of them, side by side, watching him.
“I want -” he starts, but he doesn’t even know how to describe it.
“I want your tongue on me,” Gi says, pushing her chest into his hand. He hadn’t even realized that he was still rubbing at her, but he can hear it in the sound of her voice, slightly breathless. “I want Tom to see how you can drive me crazy.”
Dougie can see Tom shift, and he’s obviously hard in his jeans, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Dougie’s not faring much better himself.
She wraps her hand around his wrist and pulls, letting herself fall gracefully back onto the bed. She doesn’t let go of him, and he almost falls on top of her. The only thing that keeps him steady is the way he’s clutching at Tom’s arm. He lets his hand trail down her ribs and stomach, her bra slipping down enough to reveal the top of her breasts, hint of nipple. He just wants to pull it off, kiss her breasts, and maybe he’ll have a chance, later. Tom’s hands are on the zipper of her jeans, slowly pulling down, and she arches her hips, helping him undress her.
Dougie leans back enough to pull his shirt over his head, feeling too clothed by comparison, and throws it behind him. He doesn’t pay attention to where it lands. Tom turns to look at him, and he can feel the way both their eyes slide over his chest and down. He knows that it’s obvious how hard he is, and he can only just keep himself from pressing the heel of his palm against his cock.
Gi wriggles out of her jeans, kicking them off of her legs. They hit the floor with a soft thump. Dougie can’t help but look at the long expanse of her legs, her plain black panties, and he brushes his fingers against her left ankle, leaning down to kiss the inside of her knee, licking soft skin, up the inside of her thigh. She huffs out a laugh, wriggling, and when he glances up through his lashes, he can see the way her mouth opens, the way she arches her neck. Tom’s watching her too, biting his lip. It takes Dougie a second, but he realizes that Tom’s cupping his cock through his jeans, and he has to look away; it’s almost too hot, and he can only think about what those hands would feel like on his skin. Rough calluses on his cock, on his face. Anywhere.
“Clothes off, both of you,” Gi says, voice husky. “I’m not going to be the only one in my panties on this bed.” She laughs, and Tom’s hand falls heavy on the back of Dougie’s neck, almost holding Dougie down. Dougie turns his head, looks up at Tom, takes in the way Tom’s looking at him, at the exposed line of his spine, flared wings of shoulder blades, and it almost takes Dougie by surprise when Tom fumbles between Dougie and the bed with his free hand, popping the button on Dougie’s jeans, and working the zip down with two fingers.
“Ah,” Dougie gasps against the inside of Gi’s thigh, surprised, when Tom’s fingers press against his cock through his boxers. “Tom.”
“So hot like this, Dougie,” Tom says, “pink tongue licking up the inside of Gi’s thigh. You’re going to make her feel so good.” Tom’s not wrapping his fingers around Dougie’s cock, just brushing them against him through the cotton, and Dougie’s making embarrassing noises - half-strangled whimpers and moans - every time Tom moves his fingers. He can’t seem to help it.
Finally, Tom lets his hand snake around until he’s pushing Dougie’s jeans and boxers both over his arse and down his thighs. Dougie moves enough to shuck them off, pushing his socks off with his toes, and then he’s completely naked. He can’t help but blush at the way Gi looks at him, desire in the arch of her eyebrows, the quirk of her lips, so he just turns to Tom.
“Your turn,” he says, and lets his fingers brush down Tom’s chest, trailing through the sheen of sweat. He wants to lick it off of his fingers, so he does, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them. Tom’s breath goes hectic in his chest.
“Fuck,” Tom says, and then he’s shoving at his trousers and boxers, tugging them both off of his hips without bothering to undo the fly at all. Gi makes a noise low in her throat, and when he looks back at her, she’s arching off the bed, stretching, and he can’t do anything but run his hands up her legs.
“Yeah,” she says, “like that.” She reaches her hand up to Tom, and pulls him down until he’s kissing her. Dougie could watch the slow way their lips meet and part all night. He kisses his way up the inside of Gi’s thigh, and he can feel the muscles in her leg contracting and shifting. He nips at her skin, and can hear the surprised noise she makes against Tom’s mouth.
He slides up on the bed a little, mouth still working up the line of her thigh, and he presses two fingers against her through her panties. He can feel the warmth against his fingertips, and she rolls her hips into it, just a slight push. He can tell that she’s wet, feel the dampness even through the cotton of her panties.
“Want me?” he asks, breath whispering against her skin. “Want me to do it?”
Gi moans, the sound muffled, and thrusts her hips again. Tom’s got his hand in her hair, the other trailing down to push at her bra. Dougie watches the easy way Tom’s hand slithers under her back, and he can tell when the clasp comes undone by the way the fabric goes loose.
He licks experimentally against the cotton of her panties, and is rewarded with a sharp gasp. He’s watching Tom’s hand push her bra down and cup her bared breast. He can see Tom’s thumb rubbing over her nipple, the silver of his ring gleaming in the light, and Dougie can’t help the way he rubs his cock against the bedspread. He’s sure he must leave a damp streak, where the precome has soaked in, the head dragging almost painfully over rough fabric. He shudders, tries to get himself under control.
He pushes his tongue more firmly against her, and all he tastes is cotton, but he can feel the way she’s trying to thrust down against him, and he can hear the sounds she’s making, and he just wants more of it.
He hooks his fingers into the elastic of her panties, and she’s murmuring something that sounds like yes, yes, yes against Tom’s mouth, so Dougie just pulls them down. He slides them down and off of her legs, leaving her almost as naked as he and Tom both are. Her bra is still draped over her stomach, but her breasts are bared, and he can see how quick and shallow her breaths are. He licks at the inside of her thigh, and rubs two fingers against her, letting them slide inside her to dip into the wetness gathering there. She moans loud enough that Tom must not be kissing her anymore. Dougie looks up, and Tom’s mouth is sucking down the side of her neck, and she’s panting, staring up at the ceiling.
“More,” she says, “please.”
“So hot,” Dougie manages to say, watching Tom’s mouth against her skin, Tom’s fingers still cupping her breasts, and they look so hot together. The way he’d always imagined they would.
“Dougie,” she says, voice breathless as he spreads his fingers and licks inside her, tongue searching out and pressing flat against her clit. He’s given head to more than a few girls - it’s something he actually likes doing - but he’s never really been able to describe the taste. It tastes like - girl, sharp and maybe a little salty on his tongue. He presses his tongue harder, and she shakes a little, hips moving against him, sinuous and graceful.
He looks up over the line of her hips, and Tom’s mouthing his way down over the curve of her breast, eyes half-lidded in a way that makes Dougie shudder and press his hips down into the bedspread again.
“Oh, oh,” Gi’s saying, arching her back, and he can see one hand clutching into the comforter. Dougie lets his tongue slide forward, inside her, and moves his fingers until his can rub them over her clit. He’s watching the way Tom’s tongue circles her nipple, hand splayed over his stomach, brushing restlessly over her skin. Gi’s hips are moving almost helplessly, and the sounds she making - small gasps and moans, head back against the mattress as she arches up - are almost too sexy to take. Dougie lets his fingers circle and press, tongue wriggling inside her, and he can feel when she shudders all over.
“Oh, god, Doug,” she says, breathless, and Dougie hears Tom laugh low in the back of his throat, and he moans at the sound of them - Gi’s voice rough with arousal, Tom’s deep and gruff and muffled against Gi’s skin. He needs someone to touch him, something, but he wants Gi to come, first, wants to feel her muscles clench around him. She presses the heel of one foot against his shoulder blade, just to the left of his spine and digs in, trying to draw him closer to her. He just moves his fingers a little faster, circular, and relishes the way her hips move into him. He presses his other hand against the inside of her thigh, pushing her legs farther apart so that he can get closer.
“Dougie,” Tom says, turning his head to look down, where Dougie’s pressing his tongue inside her, tasting her on his tongue. “So fucking hot.” Dougie wants to know how hard Tom is, if he’s rubbing himself off on the bedspread the way Dougie can’t seem to stop doing, how easy it would be to make him come.
He pushes his tongue inside Gi almost ruthlessly, as far as he can, rubbing her clit under his fingers, and he hears her say, “Oh, oh, fuck. I’m -”
He can feel her muscles flutter around his tongue, the spasm of her body as she starts to come, and he doesn’t pull away, just keeps stroking her through the aftershocks with his fingers and his mouth. Her hips pushing against his mouth, his fingers clutching at her thigh, her foot hooked around his back and pulling him closer. She tastes sticky and perfect. It’s so fucking hot that Dougie can’t help the way his hips are grinding against the bedspread, how damp the fabric feels under his hips from his sweat and precome.
“Ah, fuck,” she says, one last time, still panting, and Dougie pulls away enough to see the way that Tom’s still got his mouth on her, biting in just under the curve of her breast. Tom looks up, then, and Dougie can’t help the way he licks his lips. He can still taste her, and Tom’s eyes focus on his mouth in a way that Dougie likes. He leans forward, threading a hand into Tom’s hair and tugging him forward.
“Wanna taste?” he asks, and then Tom kisses him, licking into his mouth wet and sloppy. Dougie moans, and he’s so fucking hard, he just wants. Anything. Tom’s lips are soft, and then Gi’s sitting up, biting into the curve of his shoulder, mouth digging into his skin. Dougie gasps against Tom, and Tom nips at his lips, tongue searching for any last taste of Gi in his mouth. Dougie’s not sure what he wants, not sure he cares just as long as someone touches him soon. He’s going to come embarrassingly fast, he already knows. “Please,” he mumbles into Tom’s mouth, and Tom’s hand is skating down his back, digging in under his shoulder blade, pressing into the notches in his spine, dragging through the sweat collecting there. His hand stops just above Dougie’s arse, flat against the small of his back, and Dougie is slightly dizzy with arousal. Gi’s got her cheek pressed to his shoulder, now, watching them kiss. He loves the feel of her hair on the over-sensitive skin of his back, sticking with sweat.
“Tom,” she says, one hand petting down Tom’s side, “Want to watch you suck him off.” Her voice is husky, and it sounds like sex. Dougie almost chokes, Tom’s tongue in his mouth, moaning at the thought of that tongue on his cock. Tom pulls back, and doesn’t say anything, pupils dilated, eyes dark. He slides to the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around Dougie wrist. Dougie goes with him, scooting to the edge of the mattress, and when Tom slides off of the bed and kneels down on the floor, Dougie’s breath catches in his throat.
“Fuck,” he says. Tom looks up at him, presses a hand to the top of his thigh, and leans forward. Dougie’s head snaps back at the first touch of Tom’s tongue on the head of his cock, the tip pressed against the slit, and he can’t help the way his hips move. Tom pulls back, and Dougie manages to breathe, open his eyes. Gi slides in behind him, then, and he can feel her breasts pressed to his back, her small hands reaching around to grasp his hips. She holds him still, and Tom leans back in to lick a stripe up the side of Dougie’s cock, and Dougie whimpers a little. “Please,” he says again, and Tom looks at him, licking his bottom lip. “Tom.”
Tom goes down, then, all the way, mouth hot and perfect on Dougie’s cock, and Dougie does choke, trying to breathe and not quite managing it. Tom’s tongue presses hard against the underside, and Gi’s hands are still holding Dougie’s hips, her mouth sliding against the side of his neck.
“He’s so hot, right, Dougie?” she whispers, and Dougie whimpers, trying to keep his eyes open so that he can see - see Tom’s hair stuck of his forehead and falling in his eyes, Tom’s mouth on his cock, the red in Tom’s cheeks. The line of Tom’s spine as he bends in. Tom sucks in, hard and perfect, and Dougie gasps, loud. It’s the only sound in the room other than Gi’s breath soft on his neck, and the sound of Tom’s mouth on his cock, wet and dirty.
“Tom, fuck,” Dougie manages to say, and presses his hand to the top of Tom’s head, brushing his fingers through Tom’s hair. Tom hums, pleased, and the feel of it on Dougie’s cock makes his hips try to move again - the only thing keeping him from thrusting into Tom’s mouth is Gi’s hands holding him back.
He’s so close, so fucking close; he can feel the tingles that start in his fingertips, the warmth spreading through his body, and - fuck. Tom hums again, sucking hard, and that’s all it takes. He doesn’t even get to warn Tom, just throws his head back onto Gi’s shoulder and starts to come, muscles trembling, hips trying to thrust forward. He can feel pulse after pulse of pleasure course through his body, and he moans, over stimulated, watching Tom swallow. His hand clenches almost unconsciously into Tom’s hair, pulling at the strands of it in a way that must be painful.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasps. “Motherfucker, sorry, sorry.” Tom just licks at his oversensitive cock, making sure to get everything and then pulls off, leaning back on his heels. “Here,” Dougie says. “Come here.” He curls a hand around Tom’s shoulder and tugs, trying to pull him up. Gi laughs, mouth still resting against Dougie’s pulse, still pressed up tight against Dougie’s back. Dougie wants to kiss her, but he wants to make Tom come, first. Tom moves, and Dougie pulls him until he’s straddling Dougie’s thighs, mostly in his lap. Tom’s so fucking hard it must be painful, so Dougie just wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking. Tom’s skin is warm, firm, and Dougie uses the precome leaking at the tip to ease his way, curling his fingers up over the head and down.
“Shit,” Tom says. “Bloody hell, Dougs.” He arches his spine, throws his head back so that Dougie can’t help but lean in and lick at his skin, taste his sweat.
He keeps his pace almost brutally fast, grip tight, and Tom almost doesn’t seem to breathe. He leans forward and kisses Gi over Dougie’s shoulder, and Dougie can hear their mouths touch and part, slick, wet sounds. Tom’s close enough that they’re chest to chest, and Dougie can feel how fast he’s breathing.
“I’m not -” Tom says into Dougie’s ear, “- going to last long.” Dougie can feel the small thrusts of Tom’s hips into his hand, and bites into Tom’s neck, keeps his strokes firm and even.
“C’mon, Tom,” Gi says, against Tom’s mouth. “C’mon.”
Tom doesn’t say anything, just gasps and trembles, pulse jumping under Dougie’s mouth. He starts coming, into the curve of Dougie’s hand, against Dougie’s thighs and stomach, his own stomach. Dougie strokes him through the pulses, tongue messy on the side of his neck, and listens to the sound of Gi kissing his face.
“Fuck,” Tom says. He’s sweaty when he leans back, hair in his face, cheeks flushed, and so devastatingly hot that Dougie just wants to lick him. Gi laughs, and presses against Dougie’s back. Her skin is smooth and warm, and he may still be a little tipsy, but he’s pretty sure this numbers among the best sex he’s ever had.
Tom slides off of Dougie’s thighs and stands, stomach still a mess of his own come, and Dougie can’t help watching him. He wonders if this is a one-time thing or not. He wonders if he should ask.
Gi’s lips on the side of his neck surprise him, although he’s not sure why. She still hasn’t pulled away, and he can’t help but be glad for it. He turns his head so that he can kiss her on the lips, tongue sliding into her mouth, wet and messy and sated. He figures that he’s allowed, at least for a little longer. Her mouth is soft and warm, slightly chapped. Real. Her hair is a mess, curling over her shoulder, tangled and unruly. She looks particularly stunning, and Dougie pulls away to look at her.
“What now?” he asks, instead of anything else. He thinks that he can be okay with whatever happens next, no matter what he actually wants.
“Shower?” she asks, and grins. He loves the way her eyes wrinkle with the force of her smile, and he smiles back at her.
“Can we all fit?” She laughs, and shrugs with one shoulder. Dougie looks at Tom, standing naked and seemly comfortable in the center of the room, one eyebrow raised as if waiting for Gi’s answer.
“We’ll find a way,” she says. “I’m sure that we can make it work.”
Dougie tries not to take that as a sign of anything, but when Tom grabs his hand and drags him toward the bathroom, Gi’s arm slung around his waist, he thinks that it just might be.
McFly (Dougie/Gio/Tom)
4,624 words. NC-17! And thus, porn. Threesome porn. Involving a girl, even! I've been sitting on this one since at least December, but I figured that I might as well post it while I remembered that it existed. The title is from Backwards Walk, by Frightened Rabbit. Thanks to kawaii_tenshi27, as always, for the beta!
Dougie tries to look nonchalant when he knocks on the door, other hand stuffed in his pocket. Downstairs at the bar, when Gi had leaned over to him, whispered in his ear, Tom grinning sly and sleepy-eyed over her shoulder, there was no way he could say no, his tongue loose with drink and desire.
Dougie tries to look nonchalant when he knocks on the door, other hand stuffed in his pocket. Downstairs at the bar, when Gi had leaned over to him, whispered in his ear, Tom grinning sly and sleepy-eyed over her shoulder, there was no way he could say no, his tongue loose with drink and desire. If he’s honest. Now, he’s still somewhere north of tipsy, flushed and hot all over, and having second thoughts. So when Gi opens the door he gives her a half smile, sick and anxious. “Get in here,” she says, grinning, and pulls him inside, slim fingers wrapped around his wrist. He doesn’t say anything, can’t think of what he should be saying.
He stumbles a little, tripping over his feet, and she giggles at him, looking over her shoulder. She’s not wearing a shirt, just a plain black bra and her jeans. She’s still obviously drunk, cheeks warm with it, but Dougie can’t help watching the way the muscles in her back move as she pulls him forward.
Tom’s kneeling on the bed, shirtless, a bottle of champagne clasped between his thighs. He’s still wearing his trousers, and Dougie can see the elastic of his boxers peeking out from the waist. He can see that Tom is hard, and jerks his eyes away, flushing in embarrassment and arousal. Tom’s cheeks are pink, but Dougie doesn’t know if that’s the drink or something else entirely. He hopes that it’s both.
“Hi, Doug,” Tom says, and smiles in that way that never fails to make Dougie’s breath go fast. Dougie swallows, and he still can’t think of anything to say. He nods, once, shakily, and he can’t believe that he gets this. That they want him to have this.
Gi lets go of Dougie’s wrist, then, and leaves him standing in the middle of the hotel room. She clambers up onto the mattress and wraps her fingers around the neck of the bottle, pulling it from between Tom’s legs and taking a swig. A drip runs down her chin as she drinks too much at once, and Dougie can only watch as Tom leans over to lick it away, tongue sharp and pink. He hears the sharp intake of his own gasp, and it sounds too loud, too abrupt.
Tom’s slipped his tongue into her mouth, and they’re kissing now, the sounds wet and messy. Dougie imagines that Gi’s mouth must taste bubbly and sweet, and wonders if Tom’s tastes the same. When Tom reaches a hand up to cup her left breast, fingertips rubbing just where skin meets bra, Dougie decides that he’s way too sober for this. He toes off his shoes and takes the last three steps to the bed, tugging the bottle out of Gi’s slack hand. This close, he can hear the small sounds of pleasure that she’s making, see the way Tom’s other hand is fiddling with the button on her jeans, and he gulps down champagne, letting the carbonation tingle on his tongue. It feels almost voyeuristic, like he’s intruding, but the truth is - the truth is that they asked him here. Want him here. He’s still trying to wrap his brain around that.
Tom’s hand grabs his upper arm, firm and confident, tugging him forward. It’s surprising enough that he almost loses his footing again, socks catching on the carpet. His knees hit the end of the mattress, and he lets himself fall forward, clambering up onto the bedspread. Gi’s reaching out for his hand, and he lets her pull it forward until he’s touching her other breast. He can feel her nipple, hard through the fabric of her bra, and he takes a shuddering breath. Tom’s got his arm, so the bottle is successfully out of his reach, but he wants another drink. Courage or - something.
He rubs at Gi’s nipple with two fingers, listening for the way her breath hitches. Tom’s thumb is pressing hard against the inside of his arm, and Dougie can see the way Tom’s Adam’s apple works as he swallows. He’s still kissing Gi, their lips moving in tandem - easy and comfortable and utterly, devastatingly hot - and Dougie can’t help the way he leans forward, licking at the underside of Tom’s jaw, where he can taste sweat and feel the scratch of stubble against his tongue.
“I -” he murmurs against Tom’s skin. “What. What’re we doing?” He presses his fingers more firmly over Gi’s nipple just to hear the sound she makes, and bites into the skin of Tom’s jaw.
“I thought,” Tom says, voice husky as he pulls back with a wet sound, “we’d discussed this already.” He’s tilting his head to the side so that Dougie can lick his way up toward his ear. Dougie loves the way Tom’s chest is heaving. He can see the first brush of sweat across Tom’s skin.
He wants to dip his fingers into Gi’s bra and feel the full weight of her breast in his hand. He wants to touch Tom’s chest with careful fingers. He really wants -
“No, I,” Dougie says. “You didn’t tell me who I’m sucking off.” He can feel Tom’s hand tighten on his arm, tight enough to leave marks later, and he sucks in a quick breath, lips just brushing against Tom’s jaw. He can see it - his lips on Tom’s cock, salt and bitter taste and all the power that comes with it. Gi’s legs spread wide, back arching as his tongue curls around her clit. The image almost makes him squeeze his eyes closed, and he’s hard, has been hard, just from the thought. The thought and barest touches.
Gi’s smiling wickedly when he turns his head toward her, bra strap falling down one shoulder, and she looks - beautiful, with Tom’s hand on one breast and Dougie’s still on the other, curly hair trailing down her back, the button on her jeans open, but the zipper still up.
“What do you want, Dougie?” she asks, but Dougie’s not entirely certain that it’s a question. And if it is, it’s certainly not a fair one. Tom’s hand slides down Dougie’s arm until he’s grabbing the bottle, pulling it away. Tom takes a long gulp, and Dougie watches the line of his throat as he swallows.
“I - anything, I. What do you want me to do?”
And then Tom’s pressing the bottle to his lips, tilting it back, saying, “Drink.” Dougie lets it run down his throat, but it’s too fast, slides out of the corner of his mouth, trickling down his chin and dripping off. He swallows, tries to get as much of it as he can, but Tom’s tipped the bottle too far on purpose, Dougie can tell by the way he’s watching Dougie struggle to swallow, eyes sharp and predatory. The bottle is almost empty when Tom pulls it away and kisses him, the last splash falling on his face, cheeks and chin. Tom drops the now-empty bottle on the mattress. “So sloppy,” he murmurs against Dougie’s lips. “Always making such a mess.”
Dougie can hear Gi giggling, but Tom’s tongue is in his mouth, lips soft and wet against his, and he can’t help the moan that bubbles up in his throat. He still has champagne in his mouth, and Tom must be tasting it, but he doesn’t care. Tom doesn’t seem to either. Dougie swallows the rest of it down, and Tom makes a noise, pressing closer.
And then there’s the soft touch of Gi’s hand on his jaw, the warmth of her tongue scraping over the corner of his mouth, following the path of liquid down his chin. He cups her breast in his hand, pushing at her other bra strap until it falls off her shoulder, and slides his fingers into the cup of her bra. He can’t see what he’s doing, but he can feel the breath she huffs out against his skin, tongue still searching out the taste of champagne. He rubs her nipple between his fingers, and Tom licks at the inside of his mouth, and Dougie can’t take this. Too much - it’s too much. He wraps his free hand around Tom’s bicep as he pulls back, anchoring himself, and looks at the two of them, side by side, watching him.
“I want -” he starts, but he doesn’t even know how to describe it.
“I want your tongue on me,” Gi says, pushing her chest into his hand. He hadn’t even realized that he was still rubbing at her, but he can hear it in the sound of her voice, slightly breathless. “I want Tom to see how you can drive me crazy.”
Dougie can see Tom shift, and he’s obviously hard in his jeans, trying to relieve some of the pressure. Dougie’s not faring much better himself.
She wraps her hand around his wrist and pulls, letting herself fall gracefully back onto the bed. She doesn’t let go of him, and he almost falls on top of her. The only thing that keeps him steady is the way he’s clutching at Tom’s arm. He lets his hand trail down her ribs and stomach, her bra slipping down enough to reveal the top of her breasts, hint of nipple. He just wants to pull it off, kiss her breasts, and maybe he’ll have a chance, later. Tom’s hands are on the zipper of her jeans, slowly pulling down, and she arches her hips, helping him undress her.
Dougie leans back enough to pull his shirt over his head, feeling too clothed by comparison, and throws it behind him. He doesn’t pay attention to where it lands. Tom turns to look at him, and he can feel the way both their eyes slide over his chest and down. He knows that it’s obvious how hard he is, and he can only just keep himself from pressing the heel of his palm against his cock.
Gi wriggles out of her jeans, kicking them off of her legs. They hit the floor with a soft thump. Dougie can’t help but look at the long expanse of her legs, her plain black panties, and he brushes his fingers against her left ankle, leaning down to kiss the inside of her knee, licking soft skin, up the inside of her thigh. She huffs out a laugh, wriggling, and when he glances up through his lashes, he can see the way her mouth opens, the way she arches her neck. Tom’s watching her too, biting his lip. It takes Dougie a second, but he realizes that Tom’s cupping his cock through his jeans, and he has to look away; it’s almost too hot, and he can only think about what those hands would feel like on his skin. Rough calluses on his cock, on his face. Anywhere.
“Clothes off, both of you,” Gi says, voice husky. “I’m not going to be the only one in my panties on this bed.” She laughs, and Tom’s hand falls heavy on the back of Dougie’s neck, almost holding Dougie down. Dougie turns his head, looks up at Tom, takes in the way Tom’s looking at him, at the exposed line of his spine, flared wings of shoulder blades, and it almost takes Dougie by surprise when Tom fumbles between Dougie and the bed with his free hand, popping the button on Dougie’s jeans, and working the zip down with two fingers.
“Ah,” Dougie gasps against the inside of Gi’s thigh, surprised, when Tom’s fingers press against his cock through his boxers. “Tom.”
“So hot like this, Dougie,” Tom says, “pink tongue licking up the inside of Gi’s thigh. You’re going to make her feel so good.” Tom’s not wrapping his fingers around Dougie’s cock, just brushing them against him through the cotton, and Dougie’s making embarrassing noises - half-strangled whimpers and moans - every time Tom moves his fingers. He can’t seem to help it.
Finally, Tom lets his hand snake around until he’s pushing Dougie’s jeans and boxers both over his arse and down his thighs. Dougie moves enough to shuck them off, pushing his socks off with his toes, and then he’s completely naked. He can’t help but blush at the way Gi looks at him, desire in the arch of her eyebrows, the quirk of her lips, so he just turns to Tom.
“Your turn,” he says, and lets his fingers brush down Tom’s chest, trailing through the sheen of sweat. He wants to lick it off of his fingers, so he does, bringing them up to his mouth and sucking on them. Tom’s breath goes hectic in his chest.
“Fuck,” Tom says, and then he’s shoving at his trousers and boxers, tugging them both off of his hips without bothering to undo the fly at all. Gi makes a noise low in her throat, and when he looks back at her, she’s arching off the bed, stretching, and he can’t do anything but run his hands up her legs.
“Yeah,” she says, “like that.” She reaches her hand up to Tom, and pulls him down until he’s kissing her. Dougie could watch the slow way their lips meet and part all night. He kisses his way up the inside of Gi’s thigh, and he can feel the muscles in her leg contracting and shifting. He nips at her skin, and can hear the surprised noise she makes against Tom’s mouth.
He slides up on the bed a little, mouth still working up the line of her thigh, and he presses two fingers against her through her panties. He can feel the warmth against his fingertips, and she rolls her hips into it, just a slight push. He can tell that she’s wet, feel the dampness even through the cotton of her panties.
“Want me?” he asks, breath whispering against her skin. “Want me to do it?”
Gi moans, the sound muffled, and thrusts her hips again. Tom’s got his hand in her hair, the other trailing down to push at her bra. Dougie watches the easy way Tom’s hand slithers under her back, and he can tell when the clasp comes undone by the way the fabric goes loose.
He licks experimentally against the cotton of her panties, and is rewarded with a sharp gasp. He’s watching Tom’s hand push her bra down and cup her bared breast. He can see Tom’s thumb rubbing over her nipple, the silver of his ring gleaming in the light, and Dougie can’t help the way he rubs his cock against the bedspread. He’s sure he must leave a damp streak, where the precome has soaked in, the head dragging almost painfully over rough fabric. He shudders, tries to get himself under control.
He pushes his tongue more firmly against her, and all he tastes is cotton, but he can feel the way she’s trying to thrust down against him, and he can hear the sounds she’s making, and he just wants more of it.
He hooks his fingers into the elastic of her panties, and she’s murmuring something that sounds like yes, yes, yes against Tom’s mouth, so Dougie just pulls them down. He slides them down and off of her legs, leaving her almost as naked as he and Tom both are. Her bra is still draped over her stomach, but her breasts are bared, and he can see how quick and shallow her breaths are. He licks at the inside of her thigh, and rubs two fingers against her, letting them slide inside her to dip into the wetness gathering there. She moans loud enough that Tom must not be kissing her anymore. Dougie looks up, and Tom’s mouth is sucking down the side of her neck, and she’s panting, staring up at the ceiling.
“More,” she says, “please.”
“So hot,” Dougie manages to say, watching Tom’s mouth against her skin, Tom’s fingers still cupping her breasts, and they look so hot together. The way he’d always imagined they would.
“Dougie,” she says, voice breathless as he spreads his fingers and licks inside her, tongue searching out and pressing flat against her clit. He’s given head to more than a few girls - it’s something he actually likes doing - but he’s never really been able to describe the taste. It tastes like - girl, sharp and maybe a little salty on his tongue. He presses his tongue harder, and she shakes a little, hips moving against him, sinuous and graceful.
He looks up over the line of her hips, and Tom’s mouthing his way down over the curve of her breast, eyes half-lidded in a way that makes Dougie shudder and press his hips down into the bedspread again.
“Oh, oh,” Gi’s saying, arching her back, and he can see one hand clutching into the comforter. Dougie lets his tongue slide forward, inside her, and moves his fingers until his can rub them over her clit. He’s watching the way Tom’s tongue circles her nipple, hand splayed over his stomach, brushing restlessly over her skin. Gi’s hips are moving almost helplessly, and the sounds she making - small gasps and moans, head back against the mattress as she arches up - are almost too sexy to take. Dougie lets his fingers circle and press, tongue wriggling inside her, and he can feel when she shudders all over.
“Oh, god, Doug,” she says, breathless, and Dougie hears Tom laugh low in the back of his throat, and he moans at the sound of them - Gi’s voice rough with arousal, Tom’s deep and gruff and muffled against Gi’s skin. He needs someone to touch him, something, but he wants Gi to come, first, wants to feel her muscles clench around him. She presses the heel of one foot against his shoulder blade, just to the left of his spine and digs in, trying to draw him closer to her. He just moves his fingers a little faster, circular, and relishes the way her hips move into him. He presses his other hand against the inside of her thigh, pushing her legs farther apart so that he can get closer.
“Dougie,” Tom says, turning his head to look down, where Dougie’s pressing his tongue inside her, tasting her on his tongue. “So fucking hot.” Dougie wants to know how hard Tom is, if he’s rubbing himself off on the bedspread the way Dougie can’t seem to stop doing, how easy it would be to make him come.
He pushes his tongue inside Gi almost ruthlessly, as far as he can, rubbing her clit under his fingers, and he hears her say, “Oh, oh, fuck. I’m -”
He can feel her muscles flutter around his tongue, the spasm of her body as she starts to come, and he doesn’t pull away, just keeps stroking her through the aftershocks with his fingers and his mouth. Her hips pushing against his mouth, his fingers clutching at her thigh, her foot hooked around his back and pulling him closer. She tastes sticky and perfect. It’s so fucking hot that Dougie can’t help the way his hips are grinding against the bedspread, how damp the fabric feels under his hips from his sweat and precome.
“Ah, fuck,” she says, one last time, still panting, and Dougie pulls away enough to see the way that Tom’s still got his mouth on her, biting in just under the curve of her breast. Tom looks up, then, and Dougie can’t help the way he licks his lips. He can still taste her, and Tom’s eyes focus on his mouth in a way that Dougie likes. He leans forward, threading a hand into Tom’s hair and tugging him forward.
“Wanna taste?” he asks, and then Tom kisses him, licking into his mouth wet and sloppy. Dougie moans, and he’s so fucking hard, he just wants. Anything. Tom’s lips are soft, and then Gi’s sitting up, biting into the curve of his shoulder, mouth digging into his skin. Dougie gasps against Tom, and Tom nips at his lips, tongue searching for any last taste of Gi in his mouth. Dougie’s not sure what he wants, not sure he cares just as long as someone touches him soon. He’s going to come embarrassingly fast, he already knows. “Please,” he mumbles into Tom’s mouth, and Tom’s hand is skating down his back, digging in under his shoulder blade, pressing into the notches in his spine, dragging through the sweat collecting there. His hand stops just above Dougie’s arse, flat against the small of his back, and Dougie is slightly dizzy with arousal. Gi’s got her cheek pressed to his shoulder, now, watching them kiss. He loves the feel of her hair on the over-sensitive skin of his back, sticking with sweat.
“Tom,” she says, one hand petting down Tom’s side, “Want to watch you suck him off.” Her voice is husky, and it sounds like sex. Dougie almost chokes, Tom’s tongue in his mouth, moaning at the thought of that tongue on his cock. Tom pulls back, and doesn’t say anything, pupils dilated, eyes dark. He slides to the edge of the bed, one hand wrapped around Dougie wrist. Dougie goes with him, scooting to the edge of the mattress, and when Tom slides off of the bed and kneels down on the floor, Dougie’s breath catches in his throat.
“Fuck,” he says. Tom looks up at him, presses a hand to the top of his thigh, and leans forward. Dougie’s head snaps back at the first touch of Tom’s tongue on the head of his cock, the tip pressed against the slit, and he can’t help the way his hips move. Tom pulls back, and Dougie manages to breathe, open his eyes. Gi slides in behind him, then, and he can feel her breasts pressed to his back, her small hands reaching around to grasp his hips. She holds him still, and Tom leans back in to lick a stripe up the side of Dougie’s cock, and Dougie whimpers a little. “Please,” he says again, and Tom looks at him, licking his bottom lip. “Tom.”
Tom goes down, then, all the way, mouth hot and perfect on Dougie’s cock, and Dougie does choke, trying to breathe and not quite managing it. Tom’s tongue presses hard against the underside, and Gi’s hands are still holding Dougie’s hips, her mouth sliding against the side of his neck.
“He’s so hot, right, Dougie?” she whispers, and Dougie whimpers, trying to keep his eyes open so that he can see - see Tom’s hair stuck of his forehead and falling in his eyes, Tom’s mouth on his cock, the red in Tom’s cheeks. The line of Tom’s spine as he bends in. Tom sucks in, hard and perfect, and Dougie gasps, loud. It’s the only sound in the room other than Gi’s breath soft on his neck, and the sound of Tom’s mouth on his cock, wet and dirty.
“Tom, fuck,” Dougie manages to say, and presses his hand to the top of Tom’s head, brushing his fingers through Tom’s hair. Tom hums, pleased, and the feel of it on Dougie’s cock makes his hips try to move again - the only thing keeping him from thrusting into Tom’s mouth is Gi’s hands holding him back.
He’s so close, so fucking close; he can feel the tingles that start in his fingertips, the warmth spreading through his body, and - fuck. Tom hums again, sucking hard, and that’s all it takes. He doesn’t even get to warn Tom, just throws his head back onto Gi’s shoulder and starts to come, muscles trembling, hips trying to thrust forward. He can feel pulse after pulse of pleasure course through his body, and he moans, over stimulated, watching Tom swallow. His hand clenches almost unconsciously into Tom’s hair, pulling at the strands of it in a way that must be painful.
“Oh, fuck,” he gasps. “Motherfucker, sorry, sorry.” Tom just licks at his oversensitive cock, making sure to get everything and then pulls off, leaning back on his heels. “Here,” Dougie says. “Come here.” He curls a hand around Tom’s shoulder and tugs, trying to pull him up. Gi laughs, mouth still resting against Dougie’s pulse, still pressed up tight against Dougie’s back. Dougie wants to kiss her, but he wants to make Tom come, first. Tom moves, and Dougie pulls him until he’s straddling Dougie’s thighs, mostly in his lap. Tom’s so fucking hard it must be painful, so Dougie just wraps a hand around his cock and starts stroking. Tom’s skin is warm, firm, and Dougie uses the precome leaking at the tip to ease his way, curling his fingers up over the head and down.
“Shit,” Tom says. “Bloody hell, Dougs.” He arches his spine, throws his head back so that Dougie can’t help but lean in and lick at his skin, taste his sweat.
He keeps his pace almost brutally fast, grip tight, and Tom almost doesn’t seem to breathe. He leans forward and kisses Gi over Dougie’s shoulder, and Dougie can hear their mouths touch and part, slick, wet sounds. Tom’s close enough that they’re chest to chest, and Dougie can feel how fast he’s breathing.
“I’m not -” Tom says into Dougie’s ear, “- going to last long.” Dougie can feel the small thrusts of Tom’s hips into his hand, and bites into Tom’s neck, keeps his strokes firm and even.
“C’mon, Tom,” Gi says, against Tom’s mouth. “C’mon.”
Tom doesn’t say anything, just gasps and trembles, pulse jumping under Dougie’s mouth. He starts coming, into the curve of Dougie’s hand, against Dougie’s thighs and stomach, his own stomach. Dougie strokes him through the pulses, tongue messy on the side of his neck, and listens to the sound of Gi kissing his face.
“Fuck,” Tom says. He’s sweaty when he leans back, hair in his face, cheeks flushed, and so devastatingly hot that Dougie just wants to lick him. Gi laughs, and presses against Dougie’s back. Her skin is smooth and warm, and he may still be a little tipsy, but he’s pretty sure this numbers among the best sex he’s ever had.
Tom slides off of Dougie’s thighs and stands, stomach still a mess of his own come, and Dougie can’t help watching him. He wonders if this is a one-time thing or not. He wonders if he should ask.
Gi’s lips on the side of his neck surprise him, although he’s not sure why. She still hasn’t pulled away, and he can’t help but be glad for it. He turns his head so that he can kiss her on the lips, tongue sliding into her mouth, wet and messy and sated. He figures that he’s allowed, at least for a little longer. Her mouth is soft and warm, slightly chapped. Real. Her hair is a mess, curling over her shoulder, tangled and unruly. She looks particularly stunning, and Dougie pulls away to look at her.
“What now?” he asks, instead of anything else. He thinks that he can be okay with whatever happens next, no matter what he actually wants.
“Shower?” she asks, and grins. He loves the way her eyes wrinkle with the force of her smile, and he smiles back at her.
“Can we all fit?” She laughs, and shrugs with one shoulder. Dougie looks at Tom, standing naked and seemly comfortable in the center of the room, one eyebrow raised as if waiting for Gi’s answer.
“We’ll find a way,” she says. “I’m sure that we can make it work.”
Dougie tries not to take that as a sign of anything, but when Tom grabs his hand and drags him toward the bathroom, Gi’s arm slung around his waist, he thinks that it just might be.