The Four-letter Word

Truth or Dare + alcohol = orgy! Starring Noel/Julian/Dave/Paul.


Characters: , , ,

Pairing: , ,



Warning: ,


Length: words

Notes: Many thanks to easilyled for the excellent beta job!

The Four-letter Word by Sooty

Paul held a glass up to his lips and swallowed some whiskey, far less than the slugs he had knocked back earlier; it had been a long day. He stood in the doorway, relaxed and careless, and watched the chaos pass him by. Yelling and swearing, three men tumbled into the room, a mass of drunken limbs and laughter, collapsing onto the nearest object that looked like it would take their combined weight. They attempted to untangle their bodies on the sofa and each placed a bottle of beer or whiskey on the wooden table in front of them.

Paul laughed at their obvious intoxication.

“Fuck, I’m gone,” muttered Julian. “Think I’m gonna puke.”

“Not near me you’re not, Barratt,” cried Noel, struggling to disentangle his legs from Dave so he could push Julian off his chest. “Fuck off.”

Julian swayed slowly from side to side, glanced sideways at his friend and attempted to speak. Nothing came out except a small whimper and he lay back down on Noel’s body: head on shoulder; hand on thigh; and breathing in his hair. Paul watched intently.

“Fuck up. I mean shut the fuck up… Noel, you’re a tosser,” Dave – still half a Bollo – slurred, half sitting, half lying on a chair, struggling to control his black furry legs which seemed to be moving of their own accord and were currently splayed out at right angles. His head sank into the gorilla costume and only his blue eyes could be seen.

“I’mmm not a tosser, you ponce,” said Noel.

“Oh yeah…?” Dave popped his head out, narrowing his eyes.

“Whatever,” Noel looked at Dave. “Fuck you.”

“You wish.” Except it sounded like ‘you fish’, and Noel looked confused.

“Fish? Wha…”

Paul interrupted their drunken reverie. He was almost too intoxicated to stand, lurching slightly and smiling stupidly. He surveyed the mess of bodies and his gaze fixed on Noel and Julian, hands entwined, a bristly chin nuzzling a pale neck. A twinge of emotion – he couldn’t articulate it through his drunken haze – drew him further into the room. He grabbed at the back of a chair to steady himself but could not take his eyes off the two men. Paul shook any errant thoughts from his head.

“You’re a bunch of tits. Absolute tits. I’m going home. ‘Bye,” he said and started to back out of the room. He tried not to listen to the voice – albeit a small, slurry drunken voice – telling him that leaving wasn’t really an option.

Julian perked up at Paul’s announcement, and shook his head.

“Nuh. You’re not going anywhere. Come and join us,” Julian chortled slowly, wickedly.

“Maybe one more drink…” slurred Paul. For some reason, he couldn’t say no to this man. Julian looked pleased. Inebriated but pleased. Paul sat next to him and noticed that Dave was now nodding off in his overheated fur costume.

Noel interrupted: “Let’s play truth or dare! I’m drunk enough.”

Dave jolted awake and nodded in agreement. Julian waved his hand about, which Noel took as his consent.

“C’mon Paul. Play with us,” Noel and Dave said, almost in unison.

Paul shook his head, grimaced and then warned, “Okay. But no naughty stuff please.” He wasn’t sure what direction this game would take, but knowing Noel – inebriated or not – he could offer a guess.

“Naughty stuff?” grinned Julian.

“Things I’ll regret in the morning,” Paul said half-heartedly. Although he was drunk, he was sure of two things: the situation was no doubt going to get out of hand, and he was nearly beyond the stage of objecting to anything.

“Yeah, right…” smiled Julian, shaking his head.

Noel almost appeared sober as he jumped around excitedly.

“Okay, I ask first,” said Noel. He turned to Paul.

“Truth or dare?”

Paul wasn’t up for anything that required him to move from this one position. His body, heavy with whiskey, was no longer his own. “Truth, I ‘spose.”

“So, Paul, when did you first suck off a man, hmm?” Noel drew the syllables out until it was a slow drawl. Julian chuckled loudly.

Paul felt like he’d been slapped, hot and hard, and hoped he wasn’t turning too deep a shade of crimson. He blurted out, “I’m not a queer. Unlike you two.” Or three? He wasn’t certain about Dave. He dragged himself off the sofa and stumbled towards the exit.

Noel laughed. “That’s not what I asked, Paul.”

“Don’t be coy, King. Come on,” Julian gestured him back in, patting the sofa next to him. Paul hesitated, then shrugged and sighed before accepting Julian’s invitation. He closed his eyes, shaking his head.

“Fuckers. It’s none of your business what I do in my sex life.” He was still shaking his head, smiling in surrender.

“But you called ‘Truth’, you big poofter,” cried Dave with glee.

“Yeah, come on, tell the truth, Paul.” Julian looked from Dave to Noel: “Nobody cares. You’re amongst friends.”

“Ju, you promised,” groaned Paul. There was a short but meaningful silence before Dave caught on.

“Whaaaaaa…? What? When? How? Really?” Dave laughed in astonishment and looked from Paul to Julian and back again.

“What the fuck is going on?” Noel looked perturbed. Dave turned to him, and thrust one finger of his hand in and out of a finger circle on the other, then nodded towards Paul and Julian.

Noel’s eyes widened and he glared at Julian. “Jude, no way!” He could not take his eyes off Julian’s face. Then he grinned, shook his head and said quietly, “You slut.”

Paul watched Noel and Julian together, feeling a twinge of envy at their possessiveness, before suddenly realising what was going on. He vigorously shook his head and hands, before grinning and proclaiming, “No, no, no! Ju and I didn’t fuck, and I certainly did not give anyone a blowjob.” He continued to shake his head, laughing and mumbling, “It was research. For the film. Nothing happened.” Talking to Julian about having sex with a man didn’t mean he was going to have sex with one.

Julian chuckled with a deep, low growl, looked at Paul, and then raised his eyebrows up and down at Noel. Then he said, half seriously, “Nothing happened. We only had a chat about fucking. But you can’t expect me to be faithful, hmmm? That’s reserved for people who live together. Besides I know you’re bumming that gorilla over there, and have been for some time.”

Noel looked mock-disgusted, turning to scowl and then smile at Dave before glancing back at Julian. “What can I say? You know I love animals.”

Okay, so Dave is too, thought Paul. He took a large gulp of his drink and felt himself relaxing into the sofa, beginning to enjoy himself. He was falling in, maybe too deeply, but it all suddenly seemed like too much fun to stop. And besides, he was thoroughly intoxicated.

“OOO-KAY,” Paul attempted to direct the conversation. “My turn.” The heaviness of his limbs and his cloudy head made him feel like taking a risk, not unlike a teenage boy attempting his first grope under the t-shirt. Paul studied Julian’s face, the way his hair fell over one eye, and the shape of his nose, his mouth, and his pale skin. He was compelled to surrender any responsibility for his actions but simultaneously eager to direct the group.

They all turned to face him. Paul looked at Julian and attempted what he hoped would be a seductive smile. Julian stared, disbelief on his face at Paul’s gaze, then laughed and shook his head.

“Righto, this is going to be fun, innit?” Julian dared him.

“You broke your promise. Liar. Truth or dare?”

“What do you reckon it’s gonna be, hmm?” Julian paused and shook his head again but this time he looked excited at the prospect of the probable dare. “Dare, of course.”

Paul enunciated each syllable slowly, prolonging his pleasure at the verbalisation of his desire.

“I. Dare. You. To. Suck. Off. Noel. Right here. Now…”

“… in front of everyone…,” Julian finished, blasé. Dave’s head popped up out of his costume and he gaped at Paul in disbelief. Julian’s low rumble of a chuckle became an uncontrollable laugh, and he started shaking with drunken mirth, buckled over the side of the sofa.

Noel looked shocked. “You are queer, Paul!”

“Yeah, you’re a fucking pervert, King,” Julian interrupted. “We all know you’d love to see me and Noel at it,” he grimaced cheerfully. He was in the mood – drunk, silly and open to adventure, and Paul knew it.

“Didn’t you know that blowing Noel is my raison d’être?” Julian pulled himself shakily off the sofa and collapsed on top of a recoiling Noel.

“Ow! Fuck! You big fucking lump of Yorkshire,” squealed Noel and rolled Julian away until he was down on the floor in between the younger man’s knees.

“And don’t puke on me, Juju, or I’ll never speak to you again.”

“Shut up little man and help me with your trousers.”

Noel pulled them down in an instant, and Julian’s eyes widened at the sight of the bulging cock pressed against the thin fabric of Noel’s tight boy pants. He looked at Paul, his hands pointing towards Noel’s penis, palms upwards like a game show hostess gesturing towards a prize. Then he raised his gaze to Noel, grinning wickedly.


Still silent, not quite believing the spectacle in front of him, Paul sat quietly and watched, unable to look away. He felt himself harden as Julian pulled Noel’s pants roughly from his slim hips and then sunk his mouth deeply onto Noel’s cock. Noel threw his head back onto the sofa, parted his lips and moaned, “Urrrrghgggh, Ju.” He laid his hands on the back of Julian’s head, guiding him deeper onto his throbbing cock.

The only sounds in the room were Julian sucking sloppily on Noel and Noel’s short groans urging him on. Paul watched Noel’s hands tangled in Julian’s messy hair and his hips bucking into Ju’s face. He was so hard now that he couldn’t think of anything else but wanting to be in between them.

Suddenly there was a flurry of black fur in front of him and fingers pulling urgently at his belt. Paul looked drunkenly into Dave’s eyes, hesitated for a moment before obliging, pulling his trousers and pants down until they were a tangle on the floor. He watched as Dave grabbed for his penis and licked the head before swallowing his hardness. Paul moaned loudly, then looked into Noel’s eyes with a mixture of incredulity and lust. They groaned in unison.

“Hey, Paul! We’re havin’ a suck-off,” laughed Noel, and then moaned when Julian licked his finger and wiggled it under Noel’s bum cheeks and into his arsehole.

Dave’s hand was now at the base of Paul’s penis, his momentum quickening, and Paul spread his legs wider to encompass the gorilla suit. It was slightly prickly and he knew he’d have friction burns before this was over. But he urged him on, one hand on Dave’s head, the other squeezing the blonde man’s furry shoulder. God, it felt good, like being stroked with silk.

Suddenly Noel announced loudly, “I’m gonna come!” and Julian started humming. Paul watched as Noel climaxed into the bigger man’s mouth, crying out, “Oh, Ju, Juju, Ju, Ju, Juliaaan.” Julian swallowed and lifted his head, spunk at the corners of his mouth, lips rising at the edges into a wicked grin.

“You filthy whore,” he swore, then half stood to kiss Noel deeply. Noel grabbed at the rigid cock straining in Julian’s trousers but Julian swiped his hands away and shook his head.

“Nuh-uh. I’m gonna fuck me a gorilla,” said Julian. He grabbed Dave from behind and pulled him roughly off Paul, locking his gaze with his director and smiling slowly. Paul mouthed the word ‘arsehole’ at Julian. Noel tittered in excitement, and then turned to stare at Paul, now bereft, his cock angry, red and rock hard. Paul looked at Noel, lust and a dare clear on his face; he was just drunk enough.

In a flurry of movement, and graceful for a drunk man, Noel was on his knees, sucking at Paul’s cock. Paul ordered him – “slower, use your tongue more” – but Noel merely stopped, lifted and shook his head violently.

Shut the fuck up, King.”

Chastised, Paul did as he was told. He couldn’t dislodge the words ‘filthy whore’ from his mind, and when Noel started again, drawing his tongue along the length of the shaft, Paul’s cock began to twitch. He grasped Noel’s hair and the change of pace and the sight of Noel blowing him for the first time caused him to go over the edge, “Oh fuck, Noel! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” releasing himself into Noel’s hot mouth. Spent and shaky, breathing heavily, Paul leaned forward and kissed the top of the head in front of him. Noel withdrew from Paul’s leaking cock and yanked the man down towards him, kissing him deeply.

Paul pulled away and grimaced with a mouthful of semen, a trail of his own spunk dribbling down his lower lip.

“You fucking cunt, Fielding!”, he said between gritted teeth, and leaned forward, spitting on Noel’s shirt and wiping his mouth vigorously before sitting back on the sofa in disgust. Noel pushed his lips onto Paul’s and kissed him sweetly, stroking the man’s face gently with his hand. They stared at each other for a moment, and then Paul smiled and zipped up his fly.

“You’re still an arsehole,” Paul said.

“Queer,” said Noel softly, then smirked and turned around to sit next to him. Paul grinned, then grabbed Noel’s hand and drew it up to his mouth, smelling the other man’s scent whilst tasting his own.

With unsteady hands, Julian had only just finished pulling his pants and trousers off, and was now stripping Dave of his costume, revealing very little except a fierce hard-on and a monkey grin. Everyone in the room recoiled from the smell emanating from the inside of the black fur – sweat, body odour and something indescribable but faintly organic.

“Fuuuuuucccck! Dave, do you ever shower?” Julian held his hand over his face, protecting his nostrils from the olfactory onslaught.

“He’s always a bit smelly after being in Bollo all day, yeah?” Noel grinned. “I get him to wash his balls, at the very least.”

“Fuck you all,” Dave grinned and moved to give the older man a hug.

“I suppose I’ll get used to it,” grumbled Julian. He and Dave kissed urgently, and with his tongue still in Dave’s mouth Julian clicked his fingers in Noel’s direction, pointing towards his bag on the floor. Paul shook Noel’s hand loose and went for the bag but Julian pulled back from the kiss and shook his head, motioning to Noel.

“No, not you. Let Noel do it.” Julian stared lasciviously at Paul. And Paul realised he was meant to watch, not participate. He sat back down obediently.

“Wha..? What do you want?” Noel responded. Through his drunken fog, he had finally realised what it was and ran towards the bag, extricating a tube of lube and placing it in Ju’s hand. Julian shook his head again and motioned to Noel to complete the task. Noel obliged, lathering his fingers with lube, bending Dave over slightly, and slowly inserting one finger at a time until the short man was moaning and grinding into Noel’s hand. Julian stopped what he was doing and stared at Noel, on his knees, still with his fingers inside Dave.

“Okay, fuck off, Fielding. My turn.”

Noel grinned, gently removed his fingers, listening to Dave’s pleas: “Fuck, no. Don’t stop, you fucker,” and sat back on the sofa, grasping at Paul’s hand and holding it tight. He was excited, and as sober as he was going to be tonight.

Dave turned away from the sofa but Paul directed: “No Dave, turn around. I wanna see your face.” Julian laughed, incredulous, and turned the blonde man around to face Paul. Paul was amazed at what he was about to witness; he felt like he was falling further down a rabbit hole, and clung to Noel, who in response gave him an encouraging, but wicked, smile.

Dave now had his knees on the sofa and Julian was behind him, stroking his back gently. He pushed his cock against Dave’s anus until he was halfway inside him and then pulled out again, gradually and deliberately. Dave groaned loudly and cried out, “Oh, fuck. Just fuck me, Ju. Please.”

“I love it when they beg,” chuckled Julian and blew Paul a kiss. Paul felt a twinge in his groin as he stared longingly at the slow rhythm of Julian’s hips, the half-open mouth almost moaning, and the strong hands gripping Dave. He watched as Julian kept the leisurely pace up for another minute, until he started to feel – through the haze of alcohol – a more intense sensation in his groin, and began to moan softly as he observed every thrust. Julian heard the noise and turned to smile sweetly at Paul. His forehead dropped onto Dave’s back and he licked his hand and reached around to grasp the smaller man’s hardness. The slow beat was maintained, and Julian let Dave’s movements guide him towards a more urgent cadence, until they were both groaning loudly, and Dave was soon calling out, “Harder, Ju, harder.” Julian complied. With his hand still wrapped around Dave’s cock, he increased the speed of his penetration until the only sound in the room was skin slapping on skin. Dave thrust backwards suddenly, yelling gibberish, and his entire body shook as he climaxed into Julian’s hand and over the chintz fabric on the sofa. Paul was entranced by the performance, and felt an urgent need to be something more than a spectator.

Julian couldn’t quite get there – he was still woolly-headed from the whiskey – and Paul noticed him glancing his way. Paul grinned and then plunged his tongue deep into Noel’s mouth, grinding his palm into Noel’s crotch. His senses were now occupied with Noel’s warm skin, his hot breath and wet mouth, and Noel’s hands under his shirt, pulling him as close as possible. He could hear the sounds of Julian thrusting even deeper into Dave, and turned to glance at the small man leaning back slightly, grabbing Julian’s right hip with his hand and urging him on. Julian kept his gaze locked on the director’s face as Noel pulled the rigid cock from Paul’s pants and began rubbing it in time with Julian’s rhythm. Paul grinned at Julian. That visual was all Julian needed to get there; he cried out, “Paul, fuck!” as he released himself into Dave, shuddering with the hazy waves of pleasure washing over his body. He shook weakly and lay over Dave’s back, kissing the sweat-drenched skin and rubbing his bristly face over the younger man’s shoulders. Dave turned and nuzzled Julian’s face before extricating himself and sitting on the sofa, careless and exhausted.

Julian pulled his pants and trousers up and sat back down in a relaxed daze, lighting a cigarette and watching Paul and Noel finish each other off. Paul had licked his hand and was pumping Noel’s penis hard while moaning loudly; he noticed Julian biting his lip. They both came hard, streaming spunk over hands, legs, and the sofa.

Dave put his suit back on without wiping himself down, and Julian grimaced.

“Aahhh, that’s why Bollo smells so bad.”

Dave grinned weakly.

Noel lay on the sofa, Paul’s come all over his right hand and his hair a mess. He smiled seductively and then looked into Paul’s face and said, “Truth or dare, you queer?”

“Another dare, you fucker.” Paul was spent with drunken exhaustion but he wanted this feeling to continue. He stared over at Julian, now lying sideways, grinning and raising his eyebrows suggestively at him. Paul smiled slowly in return, impatient for this to continue, the only thought in his head being how it would feel to blow Julian.

Before Noel could ask a question, the door opened suddenly and Mike walked into the room. There was a sharp intake of breath from the four drunken men, followed by a flurry of movement and noise: flies being zipped up, throats cleared, and hands and faces being wiped clean. Paul took a swig of whiskey and grimaced when it hit the back of his throat. Through the fog of alcohol, he could feel the beginnings of regret – the sharp sensation of knowing that nothing would ever be the same – but brushed it away with another slug from his glass.

“All right? What’ve you been up to?” Mike grinned, looking from one to the other, and then questioningly at Paul, who could do nothing but shrug in resignation.

All four of them avoided eye contact with Mike, but smiled sheepishly at each other.

“The usual. You know, nuffin’,” said Noel trying, without success, to be sober and cool.

Mike shook his head, and began his retreat from the room. He stopped and turned to face the four men, and with a wry smile said:

“Truth or dare again, hmm?”

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