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Hudson was desperate. Not just the casual kind of missing, the kind that you can push aside and forget about, but the raw ache that twisted in his stomach and pooled between his legs. Connor had been holed up in his room for hours, days, it felt like studying, and Hudson had been left pacing, fidgeting, craving. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see Connor leaning over his desk, hair falling into his eyes, lips slightly parted, that little smirk Hudson couldn’t resist.
It was maddening. Days of nothing but distant touches and sleepy kisses, had left Hudson raw, constantly throbbing, desperate for Connor in ways he couldn’t fully describe. Porn was useless now. Connor was the only thing that could bring him anywhere close to satisfaction, and yet here he was, locked out by a boyfriend who was apparently more committed to exams than to his needy, starving lover.
Hudson’s imagination didn’t stop there. He pictured Connor riding his face so hard suffocating him. He could almost feel it now. The weight of Connor’s thighs pinning his head to the couch, the slick, hot friction of Connor’s pussy grinding against his mouth until Hudson’s cheeks were stained red and his lips were glistening with a messy spit and come.
He finally gave up on trying to focus on anything else. Knocking on Connor’s door became a ritual, desperate and childish, a way to plead without words. “Connie~ please open the door. I miss you” he whispered, pressing his forehead against the wood, letting his hands trail lazily down the doorframe.
When the door finally clicked open, Connor looked like a beautiful disaster. His hair was a frizzy, wavy mess, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look utterly wrecked. Hudson didn't wait. He pounced, peppering Connor’s face with desperate, hungry kisses.
“Do you miss me? Or just my pussy?” Connor teased, his voice a low, gravelly rasp.
“Both. Mostly you. But definitely the pussy” Hudson whispered, burying his face in the crook of Connor's neck.
Connor’s hands wandered, nails dragging over his back, over the sensitive skin of his neck, and Hudson shivered, feeling his control slipping. “Take a break?” Hudson asked, eyes wide, puppy-dog cute, and Connor laughed softly, finally relenting. “Fine, cuddle in bed” he said as he helped Hudson collapse onto the sheets. Skin pressed against skin, Hudson felt alive, vibrating with anticipation. But he needed more than cuddling. He needed everything Connor could give him.
"Not close enough" Hudson pouted, clinging to his boyfriend. Connor’s laugh was soft, low, filled with mischief. “We’re cuddling, baby. Isn’t that close enough?”
"Can I put my dick inside you?" Hudson asked, completely unashamed. "I missed your pussy so much it hurts."
He peeled off Connor’s shorts, and there it was the sight that made his mouth positively water. A fat, juicy pussy, glistening and inviting. He guided his aching hardness to the entrance and pushed in slowly, inch by agonizing inch, savoring the way Connor’s walls stretched and then squeezed him tight. They both let out a unified, guttural moan as Hudson settled to the hilt.
Hudson flipped him over roughly, pinning Connor’s back flush against his chest. He reached around, his fingers digging into the muscle of Connor’s pec with a bruising, possessive force, while his other hand clamped firmly over the junction of Connor’s throat. He squeezed just enough to make the world blur, forcing Connor to rely entirely on him for his next breath.
He began at a brutal, relentless pace. Every stroke was a heavy, rapid drive that bottomed out with a punishing thud. Connor couldn't even manage a scream, he just sobbed into the silence, hot tears tracking down his flushed cheeks as Hudson drilled into him with animalistic intent. Connor’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his body arching in a violent tremor as he squirted, the hot liquid soaking through the sheets beneath them.
“Fuck me pregnant” Connor whispered, his voice a frantic plea. “I want your babies in me. I want to feel you dump everything inside.”
“I’ll get you pregnant as many times as you want, baby” Hudson growled, his hips snapping wildly as he prepared to empty himself. He was going to fill that needy, abused core until it overflowed.
Hudson’s hips gave one final, violent jolt against the mattress, his breath hitching as he prepared for the release—
Suddenly, Hudson’s eyes shot open.
He was in their room. The sheets were cool and dry. His cock was rock hard, twitching painfully against his boxers, but his hands were empty. Connor was right there, sitting cross-legged on the edge of the bed, holding an art history book against his chest, blinking rapidly at him.
Hudson froze, his heart racing at a hundred miles an hour, his brain struggling to catch up with the sudden loss of that velvet heat. “Wait, what—”
Connor burst into laughter, clutching his stomach as tears formed in his eyes. “What the hell was going on in your head? You were, you were making the craziest noises, Huddy!” He hiccupped through a giggle. “You were literally humping the bed in your sleep!”
Hudson’s jaw dropped, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled a sunset. “WHAT?! That was. That was a dream?!”
He scrambled across the bed, half-laughing and half-horrified, hands gripping Connor’s shoulders. “Connie, you had a pussy in my dream! You were begging me to breed you! And holy fuck, it was so vivid, I swear I could feel it. That fat, juicy pussy”
Connor threw his head back and laughed so hard he almost fell off the bed. “You are literally insane! A pussy? Huddy, I think I’d notice if I suddenly grew a vagina!”
Hudson smirked, the lingering heat of the dream making him bold. He leaned in, brushing Connor’s messy hair out of his eyes. “I don’t care if it was a dream. If I can imagine it that well, it counts. You’re still mine, Connie. Pussy or no pussy, I’m still going to make you make those same sounds tonight.”
“You’re ridiculous” he said breathlessly, shaking his head. “Ridiculous, and horny as always.”
“Then feed me" Hudson whispered, pulling his boyfriend back down into the pillows.
He looked at Hudson, really looked at him, and the amusement in his eyes shifted into something darker, something that matched Hudson’s own hunger.
“Yeah?” Connor whispered, his grip on the book loosening. “You think you can handle the real thing? Or are you just going to go back to sleep and hump the bed some more?”
Hudson didn't answer with words. He reached out and snatched the book from Connor’s hands, tossing it across the room where it hit the wall with a satisfying thud. He lunged, pinning Connor back against the pillows.
The "real" Connor didn't have a pussy, but he had everything else Hudson was starving for. He had those narrow child-bearing hips, that tight, inviting heat. Hudson growled against his skin, his hands roaming under Connor’s shirt to find those familiar, pierced nipples. “I’m not playing around anymore.”
Hudson worked quickly, his movements frantic but precise. He stripped Connor bare, then himself, the air in the room suddenly feeling five degrees hotter. He didn't have the pussy from the dream, but as he prepped Connor with slick fingers, the sounds Connor made were identical to the ones in Hudson’s sleep. High, broken whimpers that made Hudson’s blood boil.
“Please Huddy, now” Connor pleaded, his legs wrapping around Hudson’s waist, pulling him in.
Hudson guided himself to the entrance, and pushed in. It wasn't the soft, wet slide of the dream. It was tighter, more resistance, better, more real. He had to work for it, his jaw tight as he buried himself to the hilt. Connor let out a sharp gasp, his head tossing back, his fingers digging into Hudson’s shoulders.
“Oh god fuck, Huddy.”
“Is that close enough?” Hudson breathed, beginning a slow, punishing rhythm.
He didn't hold back. He remembered the "breeding" talk from the dream and brought it into the waking world. He leaned down, his lips brushing Connor’s ear. “I’m going to fill you so full. You want to be bred? You want to be mine? I’ll give it to you.”
Connor’s response was a fractured sob, his eyes rolling back just like they had in the dream. Hudson gripped his hips, his thumbs digging into the hipbones, and began to pound. Every thrust was a statement. You are mine. You are not going back to those books. You are staying right here.
The room was filled with wet slaps of skin, the heavy, rhythmic creak of the bed, and the desperate, slurred words of two halves of a whole finally coming back together.
He didn't stop until his muscles were screaming and Connor was babbling his name like a prayer. When he finally let go, dumping everything he’d been holding back for days into Connor, he collapsed on top of him, breathing in the scent of coconut and sweat.
“You’re such a freak” Connor whispered breathlessly, his hand weakly tracing the back of Hudson’s neck.
“Yeah” Hudson agreed, kissing the bridge of his twin's nose. “But I’m your freak. And don't forget it.”