Inch by Inch

Inch by Inch

by brooklinegirl and justbreathe80



For RPS Advent 2006. Summary: Callum came to life underneath Hugh, and he realized instantly why Callum was the big time, why he was on contract with this studio, and why anyone would kill to work with him.

Hugh pushed his sunglasses up onto his face, after spending a few minutes squinting into the sun's reflection off all the other cars stuck in this fucking crawl toward the Valley.

The pack of cigarettes was on the seat next to him, and he fucking hated smoking before he went to work, but this traffic was killing him, and he could swear it was getting hotter the further away from the ocean he drove.

He knew that he could get rid of this fucking aggravation by moving closer to the studio, but he fucking loved his house in Venice, front windows looking out on the ocean, front yard a beach.

Finally, after what felt like hours of honking and weaving through mostly-stopped traffic, and three cigarettes, he pulled into the studio lot and hopped out. Fuck. He was fucking late.

“Hugh,” Dave, the producer, said as Hugh scrambled into the side door and tried to slink toward his dressing room.

“Yeah, fuck, sorry. Fucking traffic…” Hugh shrugged and ran his hand through his hair.

Dave sighed a heavy, long-suffering sigh and pointed down the hall. “Just get on set, okay?”

Hugh nodded and strode down the hall, walking onto the set and throwing some hellos to the camera guys and the make-up girl, Cindy.

Fuck. He forgot to change in the dressing room, and now he was stuck stripping down on set in front of everyone, which shouldn’t be weird, but it was. Fucking shitty day, and it had just started.

He was awkwardly tugging his pants off one foot when there was kind of a buzz on the set. He looked up, tossing the pants aside, wondering who arrived after him and why they didn't get a ration of shit from Dave. There was this slim blond guy, his hair all spiked up, heading from the dressing rooms, robe wrapped around him. It wasn't until he turned to give Ted the camera guy a grin that Hugh recognized him. He blinked. How the fuck hadn't he known that it was Callum Keith Rennie that he was going to be working with? You'd think Dave would have fucking said something about that.
Sure, Hugh was just hired help here - he'd known he was playing back-up to some hot shot - but Dave was usually pretty good about that sort of thing. Still, a gig was a gig, and this one was pretty last minute. He needed the rent money, so he just showed up when and where they needed him.

Rennie, though - this guy had his pick of films to do. Rennie was big time; he brought in good money, made pretty good money too, from what Hugh heard.

And now he'd be playing the lead in this scene. Christ. Okay. Well, Hugh could work with pretty much anyone. So long as this Rennie guy wasn't a complete dickwad, they'd be okay. Hugh slid back onto the bed, completely naked now. They were late for the take anyway; no time to waste. He watched as Callum talked quietly with Billy, the director, for a few minutes, Billy giving him some final instructions on what he wanted out of the scene, probably. Finally, Billy gestured over at Hugh, and Callum looked over. He gave Billy a final nod, and walked towards the bed.

Hugh lifted his chin at him. "Hey," he said, going for casual.

"Hey." Callum held out his hand. "I'm Callum."

Hugh blinked. "Hugh," he said, shaking Callum's hand. He glanced down at himself, naked on the bed. "Isn't it a little late for formalities?"

Callum gave him a grin, swift and sudden, and man, that changed his whole look. "Never too late for that," he said. That open smile made Hugh feel like they were partners in crime here, in this together, and he had to force himself release his hold on Callum's hand.

Callum slid onto the bed beside him, right up close, real easy. This was the moment where Hugh always sort of felt like a high school girl on a first date. He was just staring down at Callum, who was giving him a small grin and stroking his cock, slowly, just getting ready. Hugh heard someone clear their throat, and then Billy was calling the take.

“You guys ready?” Billy called out, and Hugh just swallowed hard.

“Yeah, let’s do this,” Callum said, not breaking his eye contact with Hugh, his eyes blue and piercing. Fuck.

Hugh was so screwed.

“All right. This is just straightforward, okay? We’re on a bit of a schedule, so let’s try this in one take, shall we?” Billy said.

Hugh eased himself forward, skin coming into contact with Callum’s skin. God, he’d done this more times than he could count, fucking some random guy for a paycheck, no strings attached, thanks a lot, it was fun. But this - this felt nothing like any of those times.

“You okay?” Callum said softly, as he wrapped his arms around Hugh’s neck and shimmied around underneath Hugh. He was instantly and totally hard, which sometimes took a few minutes, but not this time. Ready to go.

Hugh nodded, and Billy called action.

Callum came to life underneath Hugh, and he realized instantly why Callum was the big time, why he was on contract with this studio, and why anyone would kill to work with him. He leaned up just a little and kissed Hugh, pushing his tongue past Hugh’s lips and stealing his breath, making his head fucking swim, and it took him a second to get with the program, and do his fucking job.

He kissed Callum back, pressing him down against the bed and sliding his cock against him. And whoa, Callum was hard too, right out of the gate. Hard and meeting Hugh thrust for thrust, and man, they had a rhythm going without even trying. Sometimes - especially the first time you worked with a guy - it could get a little awkward as you tried to figure each other out. This was - Christ, this was good. It was like Callum anticipated his moves, knowing just how to move his hips to make it feel good, and keeping a clean shot for the camera besides.

Jesus. Hugh was sweating a little already, and the way Callum was kissing him, all messy and hot and making those little sounds, wasn't helping. Or, okay, it was helping a whole hell of a lot - he was hard as a rock and ready to fuck.

"Okay, good, good. Callum, can you get on top now? Hugh, hold onto his hips tight, but watch the camera angle, don't block the cock shot."

Hugh shook his head, blinking the sweat out of his eyes, as Callum grinned up at him, and moved his hips up, sliding their cocks together for a quick, dizzying second before he heaved Hugh over onto his back. Hugh landed less than gracefully, breathless, but that was okay. Christ, Callum was smooth enough for both of them, sliding on top of Hugh, straddling him. Hugh moved his hands to follow the director's orders, hanging onto Callum's hips tight.

Callum's cock was huge and hard, and Callum, when Hugh dragged his gaze up, looked intent, focused on the scene. Still, he gave Hugh a quick wink just as he reached down and circled his hand around both of their cocks. The groan Hugh gave had been in the script, sure, but there was no need to fake it. Christ, this guy was fucking good.

Callum stroked them, rough and slow, but there wasn’t any room for foreplay - that was why people watched porn instead of having their own damn sex - and Callum was easing himself forward. And, oh god, Hugh could feel the head of his cock catching against Callum’s hole, and they were off.

“Oh yeah, fuck me,” Callum said breathlessly, and Hugh pushed, just a little, and felt Callum slick and tight and hot around his dick. “Come on, baby.”

Hugh groaned again. That was so fucking hot. “I’m gonna give it to you, come on, take it, fuck yeah,” he was chanting, and with that, Callum sat down on his dick, taking it all the way.

“That’s good, guys, really hot. Callum, work it a little,” Billy called out, and Callum started moving, one hand pressed to the center of Hugh’s chest, almost holding him down.

He needed to hold it together, because he already felt close to coming, and they weren’t even close to being done yet. Stamina had never been a problem for Hugh, but neither had actually wanting to fuck his co-stars. Not this much.

“Fuck,” Callum hissed out, and Hugh gripped his hips tightly, felt Callum’s bones close to the surface. He just let himself watch Callum work, lifting his hips up at the appropriate intervals and groaning occasionally. So it still looked like acting. God, he felt like the top of his head was going to come off.

“Just keep going, just like that,” Billy said.

Then, Callum collapsed onto Hugh’s chest, blanketing him, and Hugh wrapped his arms around Callum’s back, because it seemed like the only thing he could do, with his dick buried in Callum’s ass like this.

He forgot about the fucking cameras, forgot about Billy and Dave and Cindy and everything, and just listened to Callum’s heavy breath in his ear, concentrated on the sweet, slow slide of Callum’s ass on his cock.

“God, you’re so good. This is so fucking good,” Hugh whispered in Callum’s hair, and Callum moaned. Fuck. That was crossing a line, but he couldn’t fucking think straight anymore.

“Yeah,” Callum breathed, and Hugh started lifting his hips, taking back control. Callum was right with him. His hands were braced on either side of Hugh's head, fisted in the sheets, and Hugh made himself hang on tight to Callum's hips, shoving up into him. Every time Callum moaned, his breath coming hot against Hugh's ear, Hugh thought he was going to come. He kept holding on, holding back, and reminding himself that, fuck, this was acting, this was a gig. Callum was paid to make it look good, and he was working it. That was all, that was it, and Hugh - his head swimming - gritted his teeth and focused.

"Okay, Callum," Billy called, sounding really far away to Hugh. "I want you on your knees, now, and Hugh, really give it to him, okay?"

No problem. No fucking problem with that. Hugh couldn’t remember the last time he wanted to fuck someone this bad, and if he could just hold on and not come, he was going to be giving the performance of his life.

Callum nodded and pulled off, rearranging himself onto his hands and knees. Hugh moved too, feeling almost sluggish, but he got up on his knees and his cock lined up with Callum’s ass.

“Fuck me, come on,” Callum said, teeth clenched, and Hugh wanted to make him scream, so he pushed in, one long, fast stroke, and Callum moaned and almost lost his grip on the bed, nearly collapsing down onto his face.

Hugh knew that he was done with, so he had to make this last part look really good, hard and fast and pounding. He reached up one hand, keeping the other anchored hard on Callum’s hip, and tangled his hand in Callum’s hair, pulling his head back, making it hurt a little as he fucked him so hard, so fucking good.

“Oh god,” Callum said, his voice going soft, his moans getting longer, having a harder time saying words. Hugh grunted with each hard thrust, so fucking close now, making it good for the camera, so they could get shots of his dick moving in and out of Callum’s ass.

“Let’s wrap this up,” Billy said, and Hugh was relieved that the crew was there, because this was fucking killing him. He wanted to press Callum down into the mattress with the weight of his whole body and just fuck him until he couldn’t remember how to make sound, how to move. He wanted so goddamn much, and he knew that he was breaking the cardinal fucking rule of this profession.

Hugh picked up the pace, reaching the hand on Callum’s hip around to Callum’s cock, but Callum was already there, jerking himself off, pushing his hips back to fuck himself onto Hugh’s cock. "Yeah, do it, come on, come for me," Hugh managed, gripping Callum’s hips, hard, and slamming into him so fucking good.

Finally - finally - Hugh could feel Callum coming around him, his moans turning into something like whimpers, and Hugh finally let go of his control and let himself drive in hard and fast until he came, too, losing sight of everything but how it felt to be inside Callum like this, how tight he was, what a fucking good fuck he was.

“That’s a wrap,” Billy said, laughing, and Hugh struggled to clear his brain enough to pull out. He realized that Callum wasn’t talking, and that he was shaking, hard. Hugh hesitated for a second, not sure what to do. He finally put one hand on Callum's shoulder, squeezing it a little as he pulled out slowly. "Hey," he said gently, when Callum stayed there on his knees. "Are you -"

Callum shivered, and then rolled over onto his back easily. He shook out his shoulders, and looked up at Hugh. His eyes were shuttered, but he gave Hugh a small grin as he said, "Good take."

"Uh, yeah." Hugh felt suddenly naked - really naked, which was stupid after what they had just filmed. "That was really - something," he ended lamely, because fuck, there was nothing he could say that wouldn't sound unprofessional at best. Amazing. Hot. Special.

God, what kind of a pussy was he? He shoved himself back off the bed and jerked his chin up at Callum, grinning back. One of the stage hands came over with towels, and Hugh wrapped his around himself and said, "See you around, yeah?" to Callum before striding off to his dressing room.

"Good working with you," Callum called after him, and Hugh swore he could feel Callum's eyes on him as he walked off down the hall, but he didn't let himself turn around to see.

Dave called a week later, saying something about reshoots and a day’s work. Hugh was never one to turn an offer like that down, so he quickly dressed and made the fucking annoying-as-hell trek back to the Valley.

He tried to pretend the whole way that he wasn’t dying to work with Callum again.

This time, he was there on time, and he got a chance to go to a dressing room and mellow out before they started. He took his clothes off and put on the black terry robe that was hanging on the back of the door, then sat down in front of the mirror.

“Get a fucking grip, Dillon,” he said to himself, raking his hands through his hair. He wanted a cigarette more than anything on earth, but he had to be on set in three minutes.

Hugh took a few more deep breaths, willing his cock down for probably the first time since he’d started doing movies. He knew as soon as he saw Callum, naked and hot and, god, so fucking good, he’d be ready to go with no problem.

When he got on stage, Callum was already there, in his own black robe, talking to Billy and smiling, and Hugh felt his stomach drop out, just a little. This was so fucked. He could not let this fuck up his work.

“Hey,” Callum called out, turning that smile on Hugh and striding over, and Hugh swallowed hard and forced a smile to his own face.

“Hey, yourself,” Hugh said, curling his fingers into his palm and digging the nails in, hard, to keep from reaching out to touch Callum’s skin.

Callum was still smiling, and he was close, a little inside Hugh’s personal space. Which sort of made sense, considering that they fucked strangers for a living. “Reshoots fucking suck, huh?”

“Yeah,” Hugh answered, feeling the fabric of Callum’s robe brush his thigh. “But what can you fucking do, right?”

At that moment, Billy walked onto the set. “All right, guys, let’s get this show on the road. We’re on a tight schedule.”

Callum dropped his robe, all business, and Hugh followed suit, shrugging out of his own and tossing it aside. Callum stood beside Hugh, looking relaxed, as they waited for the call. When Billy said, "Okay, and action!" Callum wrapped his hand around his cock - which was already half-hard - and put his other hand on Hugh's shoulder. He was looking Hugh right in the eye, and there was heat in his gaze. Hugh swallowed tightly. Get with the program, here. He got to his knees, sliding his hands down Callum's body as he went. Christ, Callum's skin was soft and hot, and Hugh wanted a chance to take his time here. Fuck the script, he wanted to lick Callum's tight, hard nipples, he wanted to tease him, make him beg for it.

But the goal for the day here was a good, hot blowjob scene, complete with the money shot, and Hugh was a goddamn professional. He maybe didn't have the same kind of contract or reputation that Callum had, but he was damn good at what he did.

He looked up at Callum, sliding his hands around Callum's hips and hanging on. Callum was looking down at him, panting a little bit. He wrapped his hand in Hugh's hair, tight, and Hugh groaned - right on cue, but he didn't have to fucking fake it. Callum's cock was fully hard now, before Hugh had even done anything. Hugh's own cock had been hard from the second Callum dropped his robe.

Hugh took a breath and let Callum draw his head forward. Christ, Callum had a nice cock. Hugh slid forward a little bit, digging his fingers into Callum's hips and taking the head of his cock in his mouth.

"Fuck, yeah," Callum breathed out, and Hugh mouthed at his cock, taking his time, doing it slow, getting his cock really slick. He was half-aware of the camera guy moving a little, getting an angled shot, but mostly all he could think about was how good Callum tasted, and how bad he wanted suck him off and swallow it down.

"Do it," Callum said, his voice rough, and Christ, the sound of it made Hugh's cock jerk. He moved one hand between his legs, wrapping his fingers around his own cock and stroking it - slow, take it slow, Christ - as he sucked in some air through his nose, and took Callum all the way in. He loosened his throat, concentrating hard, and he heard Callum moan as Hugh swallowed around him.

“That’s good, just like that,” Billy said from across the room, and Hugh started working his throat, Callum’s hands gripping Hugh’s hair tight and hard, making his eyes water, and he used his tongue on the underside of Callum’s dick.

Callum groaned and pulled hard. The cunt was fucking pushy, thrusting his hips and fucking Hugh’s throat, and if Hugh could stop wanting to feel the hot slide of Callum’s dick down his throat, the tight grip of Callum’s hands on his face and in his hair, he’d tell him where he could fucking shove it.

“God,” Callum gasped, and Hugh kept working him, slowing down the pace, just a little, so that they could get more than sixty seconds onto film, reminding himself that this was fucking work, and not just getting some guy off. “So fucking good…”

Billy was quiet, for fucking once, just letting them do their thing, and all Hugh could hear was the sound of Callum’s pants and moans, and the slide of his lips against the soft skin of Callum’s dick. In and out. Hugh let go of his own dick and wrapped his hands around to grasp Callum’s ass.

“Okay,” Billy said, “finish up.”

He wasn’t fucking anywhere near ready to stop this, but he pulled off with a pop and fixed his eyes on Callum’s wet cock right next to his face, working him with one hand now. He could feel Callum getting harder, so fucking ready to come, and he wanted it.

“I’m gonna –“ Callum said, and shuddered, his cock pulsing in Hugh's hand as he came. Hugh kept stroking him, shutting his eyes and hating himself for loving this. Christ, Callum just kept shooting - there was a reason they paid him the big bucks - hot and wet on Hugh's face. When he finished, he slowly loosened his hand from Hugh's hair, but kept it there, resting against Hugh's head as he panted above him. Hugh opened his eyes and looked up at Callum, and slowly and deliberately licked the come off of his lips.

"Good!" came approvingly from Billy. "We got it, that's a wrap!"

Hugh wasn't paying any attention, because Callum was looking down at him, and stroked his hair one more time before pulling his hand away. "Nice touch," he said, and ran his thumb over Hugh's lips.

All Hugh could do was nod at him because fuck, that had been way too hot. That whole thing had been too fucking much, and as he wiped himself off with one of the towels a stagehand gave to him, his hand was shaking. Callum was already heading off set and Hugh got up from his knees slowly, wrapping his robe around himself. Jesus, he was still so fucking hard.

He made his way slowly to one of the dressing rooms and locked the door behind him, leaning back against it. It seemed like a waste of a fucking unbelievable hard-on but the blowjob scene had been all they needed. And, as Hugh wrapped his hand around himself and jerked off, desperately, he was glad of that. He leaned his head back against the door, biting his lip hard and thinking about Callum's hand clenched so hard in his hair, and the sounds Callum made as he came.

He closed his eyes tight and banged his head back against the door, coming hard after only about five or six good strokes, spurting again and again over his fist in a display that would rival even Callum's talents.

Jesus fuck, he was in trouble.

Hugh supposed he should be grateful to know someone like Dave in the industry, because he always looked out for Hugh when he came across something. Hugh wasn’t a contract guy like Callum, who worked for one studio and always had steady work. Hugh worked when he got called, did a scene here and there. It paid the bills, and it left him time to do the shit he really cared about, the music he'd been toying with, the band he'd been thinking about getting together.

Except all he’d been doing lately was thinking about Callum. Callum, hot and hard in his throat, tight and slick around his dick.

Dave filled him in on the phone about the movie, which was a Jamie Flynn. Jamie was big-time, but kind of a prick, in Hugh’s experience, and he had a reputation for being a total cunt on the set. Hugh wanted to be able to turn it down, but it was good exposure and really good money. These were quality films, as far as skin flicks went. So he’d fucking suck it up, get fucked or fuck the guy or blow him or whatever, collect his check, and not work for another few weeks or so. Small fucking price to pay, really.

It had to be a hundred degrees when he got to the studio, and Dave was standing outside, smoking, making Hugh’s finger itch.

“Hey, Hugh,” Dave said, blowing out smoke.

“Hey,” Hugh said back, stuffing his hands deep into the pockets of his jeans.

“Listen, we’re a little backed up. They’re finishing up a scene, for another movie, then we’ll be good to go. See you on set in five?” Hugh nodded, and went inside.

After getting undressed and everything and down to the set, he walked in, and they clearly weren’t done. He could hear the sound of skin hitting skin, and rough moans, and he thought they sounded a little familiar, but Hugh had been in the business in town for a while. No big fucking surprise that he had probably worked with one or both of them.

Hugh turned to face where they were shooting, and he thought he was going to lose it. Because he did know that guy.

It was Callum.

Fucking some guy up against the wall.

Christ. Hugh's cock went hard and his head swam. He had to actually steady himself against the wall for a second. Callum was really giving it to the guy, was pressed all up against him as his hips drove forward, fucking him hard and fast. The way the guy was moaning, he was either one hell of an actor or else getting fucked by Callum was a goddamn religious experience.

Hugh was willing to bet it was the latter.

He moved to the side a little, trying to stay out of the way, but wanting - needing a closer look at this. He got to where he could see Callum's face. Callum was really working it, his hairline gone dark with sweat. He had his eyes closed, and his hands were on the guy's hips, tight, hanging on as he drove into him.

Hugh was so hard he couldn't breathe. He didn't know where to look - Callum's ass all tight as he fucked the guy, Callum's cock as it sank in, god, so fucking deep, Callum's face, all concentration as he panted and pushed forward again and again. Christ. Hugh couldn't stop watching. He should walk away - needed to walk away - but he was so turned on he couldn't move and he just - god, what must that feel like, to have all of Callum's concentration focused on fucking you? Callum, hanging on to you so tight he had to be leaving marks, his breath hot against your shoulder as he drove into you again, and again, and -

Christ. Fuck. He had to get out of there. He had to get out of there right now or he was going to fucking lose it.

Hugh left the room as fast as he could without looking like an asshole and leaned up against the wall in the hallway, clenching his fingers in the rough terry of the robe. He tried to blink the image out of his head, but it was a bitch, and he couldn’t stop wanting to be that guy. Fucked up against the wall like that.

He wanted to jerk off, but he had a scene in mere minutes, as soon as Callum was done, and he wouldn’t be able to recover that fast, and he could not fucking afford to fuck this up.

He had no idea how long he stood there, his head back against the wall, his eyes closed. He just took deep breaths, in and out. When he finally opened his eyes, Callum was standing there, grinning, and that was really, really not fucking helping at all.

“Hey, Dillon,” Callum said, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out a pack of cigarettes, putting one behind his ear. “What are you doing here?”

“Shooting a scene,” Hugh said, his voice sounding all high and weird. “Jamie Flynn.”

“God, what a prick.” Hugh noticed that Callum looked totally different in clothes, worn, soft jeans and t-shirt. He looked small, almost, nothing like he did when he was on set, hot and hard and ready to go.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that, but I figured it’s just one scene. I can fucking deal.”

Callum reached out his hand and clapped Hugh on the shoulder, and Hugh almost groaned out loud, just from that. He never would have thought he was this hard up, not when he had sex for a living.

“Good luck. See you around?”

Hugh nodded. “Yeah, see you.”

He let himself watch Callum as he walked down the hall, watch his ass in those jeans and his long legs, remember what his skin and his dick and his mouth felt like, before he turned to go on set, where Jamie fucking Flynn was waiting to get his dick sucked.

Hugh hadn't gotten a call from the studio in months, and he was counting his fucking blessings, because he was determined to get past this stupid thing with Callum and he didn't think he'd be strong enough to say no, even on the off-chance that Callum might be on the lot on the same day. But when Dave called with a gig for him, well, he thought, fuck it. He had the time and he could use the money.

He made the drive to the Valley and he was doing good, real good. Calm and collected and he thought that even if Callum happened to be around for some reason, that he could handle this. Play it real cool, no problem. Give the guy a handshake and be on his way. He was good.

He walked in with his duffle bag slung over his shoulder, waving at a couple of stage hands as he made his way to the dressing rooms. He had his hand on the door when it opened in front of him, and Callum was standing there, wrapped in a robe.

Hugh's fingers went numb and he dropped the duffle bag.

Callum grinned at him. "Hey, we're working together again, huh?" His hair was spiked up high again, and he must have gotten it dyed recently, because it was this light, light blond that looked really good on him.

"I - Dave said something about Patrick Davis being in this one." He bent down to pick up the bag, feeling stupid and slow. Fuck. Fuck.

"Yeah, well." Callum was watching him as he stood up, and he shrugged one shoulder easily. "I asked Dave for the gig." He was silent for a second, looking at Hugh.

Wow. Okay. "Cool. So, see you on set?"

Callum smiled again and tipped his head to the side, like he was trying to figure out some complicated problem. "Yeah."

Hugh went into the dressing room after Callum disappeared onto set, and he took every second he could without fucking up Dave and Billy's precious schedule, folding his clothes as he took them off. Finally, he had to fucking go out there, and he took a deep breath, in and then out again, before heading out the door.

When he got on set, he immediately saw Callum, standing naked and talking to John, one of the camera guys. Just seeing that and Hugh was fucking losing control again, but he just had to get through this one scene, and then he could get the hell out of there. Maybe not work for Dave anymore, because this was fucking him up.

Callum spied him, and started walking over. "You ready?" he said, his voice a little hoarse and low, and if Hugh wasn't ready before, he sure as hell was then. Callum looked so fucking good, and Hugh could remember how good it felt to fuck him, to suck his cock.

"I was fucking born ready, Rennie," he shot back, and Callum didn't answer, just looked at Hugh for a minute, then walked over to the bed.

It was show time. Hugh was a professional, and he could definitely get a fucking grip and fuck Callum through that mattress, make it look good for the camera. Yeah. He shed his robe and handed it to Danielle, the wardrobe assistant (wardrobe on a porn movie, who fucking figured?), before making his own way over to where Callum was. There was a moment where Callum just stood there, naked and hard already, looking at Hugh, and there was heat there between them. Then Dave said, "Okay, action!" and Callum was in motion immediately, pressing up against Hugh and kissing him, messy and dirty. Hugh's heart was pounding already, and his cock was sliding up against Callum's and fuck, he wanted to get some of his own back here. This couldn't just be him; things were fucking electric between them.

He vaguely heard Dave calling out directions, but he wasn't paying attention, didn't really need to. Callum was pushing him back onto the bed, and he was stronger than he looked - thin, wiry, but Hugh had seen him fucking that guy through the wall. He knew how tough Callum was, and he fucking liked how it felt when Callum shoved him down. "Fuck, yeah," he growled, and it was scripted, that was all, the vague script they'd been given. Right.

Callum climbed on top of him, and Hugh had his hands on Callum's ass, dragging him down, stroking their cocks together as Callum moaned into his mouth. Jesus, it was so hot, too hot, Callum's skin up against his was turning him on harder than anything. It was like all the months where he had told himself he was done with this, past it, over it, kaput - all of that denial crashed away and Hugh was left with four months of sexual energy to burn right here. He was hot and hard and ready, and he thought maybe he was going to shake to pieces here.

Callum tore his mouth away from Hugh's, lifting his head and panting down at him. His lips were red and slick and his eyes were dark. "Christ," he said under his breath, his voice barely reaching Hugh's ears. "Just -"

And then he was moving, sliding down Hugh's body and taking Hugh's cock in his mouth. Hugh groaned, loudly, at the slick heat of Callum's mouth, and he heard Billy saying, "Good, great, keep going, just like that."

Hugh's hand was tangled in the spikes of Callum's hair, hanging on as Callum sucked him down deep. God, Callum was an expert fucking cocksucker, and Hugh just held on as Callum swallowed him down, over and over. He had to clamp his eyes shut, because he knew that he was supposed to fuck Callum before this was all over, and just watching his dick slide in and out of Callum's lips was putting him closer than he wanted to be at this point.

Finally, he had to actually pull Callum off of his dick with his hands, feeling a little bad about probably hurting him, but he stopped feeling bad when he saw Callum's wicked grin, his spit-slick lips. Callum was climbing up over him and Hugh gripped his hips, tight, and flipped them over, pressing Callum down beneath him and hearing Callum's breath come faster. "God, fuck, yeah," Callum whispered, and Hugh knew he should be talking louder, so that the mic could pick it up, but Hugh was too busy getting himself slicked up. This was the stuff you never saw in the movie, what they cut out, and it almost made him forget that there were cameras at all.

When Hugh was done, his hand still on his slick cock, looking down at Callum spread out for him, Callum opened his eyes and lifted his legs. Hugh felt dizzy with it, with how good this was, and he pressed Callum's legs back and pushed into his, slow and steady.

"Fuck," Callum whispered, and then he moaned loudly, a showy, fake moan, and Hugh almost drew back. Because he knew - god, he wasn't a fucking idiot - that this was all for show, all part of the script and the job, but it felt all wrong. But then Callum's hands were on his back, pulling him down closer. "Come on," Callum whispered. "Fuck me, Dillon."

He had to remember to keep fucking Callum, when all he wanted to do was collapse on top of him and kiss him, because he realized that Callum was talking for him, so that Dave and Billy and the camera guys and the fucking mic couldn't hear it, and moaning and writhing for their benefit. But Callum was in this for what it was, with Hugh, and wasn't that fucking something else?

Hugh slowed down the pace, making his strokes leisurely and hard, and he knew after a few minutes that Callum's sounds were real. Callum never stopped talking between the moans. "Yeah, god, that's so good, so fucking good. Give it to me, just like that. Fuck, god, Dillon, such a good fuck," he whispered, and Hugh, for the first time ever, completely blocked out the people on set, the cameras and directors and everything, and focused on making Callum come, just like this.

"Come on," he said back, not caring if anyone heard. "I want you to come. Fuck." Callum cried out, something that made no sense at all, and he started pushing back against Hugh's thrusts, his cock huge and hot and leaking between their bellies as Hugh fucked him. Callum was so close Hugh could feel him shaking. His ass was tight and hot around Hugh's cock, and hands were firm on Hugh's back, holding on, holding him close.

Hugh was pounding into him, god, hard and fast and good, so fucking good. Callum arched up under him, letting out this shaky moan that wasn't anywhere in his porn-star repertoire - Hugh'd seen his movies, he knew when it was real - and came, right there between them, hot and wet and messy and it was the fucking hottest thing Hugh had ever seen, ever felt.

Callum's eyes were closed, his face slack with release as Hugh pushed into him, hard, again and again, losing it, fucking losing it here. Christ, he couldn't hold on, not after that. Not with Callum, fucked-out beneath him but still digging his feet into Hugh's back, arching helplessly into the thrusts. "God," Hugh whispered, his voice coming out rough and broken. "Callum - just - you -"

"Come on," Callum's voice was low and Hugh watched as his eyes fluttered open. He was looking up at Hugh, intense. "Hugh." He swallowed, and dug his heels into Hugh's back as Hugh thrust into him hard. "I -"

"Fuck," Hugh gasped, losing it now, all rhythm gone, just fucking Callum with everything he had. Somewhere, faintly, he heard Dave say, "Christ, you guys are just -"

Hugh had his head bowed, pressed against Callum's shoulder, his hips jerking forward hard as he finally lost it, coming deep inside Callum.

He thought he could vaguely make out Billy talking to them, trying to give them some direction. He wanted to stay there forever, inside Callum just like this, because it was fucking good and perfect and everything that he'd thought it would be. In his head. He had to remember that this was work though, and Callum's hands rested on Hugh's hips as Hugh pulled out of him, gently, and flopped down on his back next to Callum. They were both panting, hard.

"Guys," Billy was saying impatiently, and Hugh flailed his hand uselessly at him.

"Shut the fuck up, and give us a second," Callum shot back, a little more verbal than Hugh was feeling at the moment. Billy raised his hands and backed off, laughing. Callum sighed, and turned toward Hugh, brushing a barely-there kiss against his neck before turning again and rolling to his feet, striding off. Hugh took a deep breath and got himself to a sitting position; rubbing his hands in his hair and trying to fucking remember how to use his limbs.

When he looked up, Danielle was standing there, Hugh's robe dangling from one of her fingers. She was smiling, and that was when Hugh knew that everyone else had seen what was going on too, and he fucking wanted to bury his face in the scratchy sheets on the bed and stay there.

"Here you go," she said sweetly, and Hugh faked a smile. That was so fucking stupid. He had probably screwed his career completely, and he couldn't bother to give a fuck, because the orgasm was still running through his veins and he just wanted to find Callum and bury himself inside him, all over again.

He plucked the robe from Danielle's fingers as he stood up, shrugging it on and tying it closed. "Thanks, sweetheart," he said, and Danielle just laughed as she walked off.

Hugh took a long, hot shower, letting the water pound down on the back of his neck for a long time, his eyes shut as he retraced every minute of that scene in his mind. He knew he should be trying to forget it, shake it off, move forward. But - fuck it, he didn't want to forget that. How Callum tasted, the sounds he made when he came, how tight he'd been holding onto Hugh the whole damn time. The things he whispered for Hugh's ears alone, not caring about the mic or the camera or everybody standing there watching while Hugh fucked him so good - Jesus, Hugh was getting hard all over again here in the shower.

He ducked his head under the spray and grimly turned the knob over to cold. It was going to be a long fucking drive back from the Valley.

When he finally got himself dried off and dressed, he was exhausted, and his fingers were twitching for a cigarette. He made his way outside, already tugging a cigarette out of the pack as he pushed through the heavy doors, squinting in the too-bright sunlight outside. He stuck the cigarette in his mouth and was fumbling in his jeans pocket for his lighter when the door opened again behind him. He half-turned to see who it was and he dropped the lighter he'd just managed to get out. "Hey," Callum said, bending smoothly to scoop it up. He lit the cigarette that was hanging out of his own mouth first, and then held the still-lit lighter out towards Hugh, cupping the flame with one hand.

"Thanks," Hugh said around the cigarette, numbly leaning in towards Callum for the light.

Callum tossed him the lighter afterwards, and leaned back against the wall, taking a long drag. Hugh stood there in front of him for a moment, watching his mouth, before he shook himself and moved to lean next to him. They smoked there quietly for a few minutes, and Hugh's heart slowed down a little. It was the first time he and Callum had spent any time together that they weren't getting paid for and he liked it. He wanted it to last. God, he was such a pussy.

"Good shoot," Callum said finally, tilting his head to the side a little and giving Hugh a slanted look.

"Uh, yeah." Good shoot. Great fucking shoot. Better than any not-on-camera sex Hugh'd ever had in his fucking life.

"You heading out?" Callum breathed out smoke, still looking at Hugh. "You live -" He waved his hand. "Nowhere near here, anyway, right?"

"Yeah. Venice." Hugh took another drag. "It's a fuck of a drive."

"I believe it." Callum was squinting into the sunlight now. There was a light network of lines around his eyes, and all Hugh could think about was pressing Callum up against the wall and sliding his tongue into his mouth, tasting the smoke and making Callum moan. He shifted, and tried to make himself look away, concentrating on the cigarette in his hand.

"Well." Callum pushed forward off the wall, taking a final drag and dropping the cigarette, crushing it under his booted foot. "I get down there, sometimes. Venice. It's nice this time of year." He raised one eyebrow at Hugh, rocking back a little on his feet.

Hugh's mouth was dry. "Well, if you get down there anytime soon, you could - you know, give me a call sometime."

Callum tucked his hands into his jeans pockets, looking quietly pleased. "I'll do that."

"You want - " Hugh was patting his jacket pocket, looking for a pen.

Callum waved him away, the smile on his face getting broader. "I've got your number, Dillon."

Huh. "Oh. Okay, then."

"Okay, then." Callum shot him a look full of smoldering heat. "See you around?"

"See you around."

It was a bright, sunny, hot Saturday morning, and Hugh stumbled out of bed late, starting the coffee maker and going outside to smoke with a view of the ocean, the waves crashing against the sand.

"Hey, cuntface."

Hugh spun around, choking and coughing, and there was Callum, with dark sunglasses on, and shorts, a sly smile on his face. "Holy fuck, you scared the shit out of me. Christ."

Callum laughed between drags on his cigarette. "Sorry."

Hugh was still pretty fucking stunned, because Callum hadn't called, not once, since that last shoot, and he had convinced himself that that was the last they would see of each other. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Well, I was going to call - but then I conned Dave into giving up your address. So, I decided to drop by." Callum paused as he ground out his cigarette with the heel of his boot. "That okay?"

Hugh dropped his cigarette too, and in one pretty fucking smooth move, if he said so himself, he pressed Callum up against the side of the house, the wood warm under his hand. "Yeah, that's good. Really fucking good."

Callum leaned in and put his mouth next to Hugh's ear. "You gonna invite me in or what?"

Hugh kissed him, hard, on the mouth, then moved away and through the door, Callum following close behind.


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