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“Do you think they’ll add the cockring to the series?” Hudson asks as he steps inside Connor’s apartment.
Connor looks back at Hudson, a teasing smile curling his heart-shaped lips. “You would like that, wouldn’t you?”
Hudson huffs, trying to act nonchalant while his heart somersaults in his chest from the way Connor is looking at him.
“Of course, the freakier the better. Just wondering how we could make that work.” He takes off his shoes and bends down to put them besides Connor’s. “How I could make that work.”
“What? You’ve never worn a vibrating cockring?”
Hudson nearly throws his shoe at Connor. “As if you have.” When he straightens himself, he sees Connor’s smile has widened. “Fuck off…”
A shrug shakes Connor’s broad shoulders. “I’ve done lots of stuff.”
“But a vibrating cockring?” When Connor just shrugs again, Hudson can’t help but gape at him.
“Jesus. What does it feel like?” he asks before he can think, as they make their way into the living room.
Connor makes a beeline for the kitchen, but not before saying: “I still have it, if you want to try.”
Hudson stands frozen near the couch for a moment.
What?
Sharing hats? Sure. Clothes? Why not. Drinks? They’ve done that many, many times. But sharing a cockring?
It was a joke, Hudson thinks. Though, the tone in Connor’s voice sounded anything but humorous. If anything, it sounded genuine— No, Hudson is just hearing what he wants to hear. That’s all.
When Connor returns with Canada Dry ginger ale, Hudson is still standing in the middle of the room. He jumps a little when Connor presses the cool can against his bare arm.
“Relax, Huddy, I was kidding.”
Of course. Relief washes over Hudson as he feels a blush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks.
“I know that,” he says, lies. He can’t believe he actually considered Connor being serious in his offer and sits down next to Connor on the couch.
There is a little distance between them. Hudson can’t help it.
They have already hooked up. Multiple times. The hotness and tension of some of the scenes in season one of Heated Rivalry had gotten to their heads and, well, when you’re both hot and young, who is to blame? Then there was also Quinn and their little incident that happened after. They couldn’t help themselves. And let’s not forget New Year’s, when Connor flew to Vancouver to spend it with Hudson. They had done it in Feltre, too. The buzz of being so far from home in a city so unfamiliar had gotten to them. And after Connor’s SNL appearance. Hudson was so proud and didn’t know how else to show it. Then there was also any other time Hudson flew to LA and Connor was there.
Like right now.
But something had changed. At least, Hudson feels so. He can’t put his finger on it, but he feels like there is a static between them now that isn’t just laden with lust. Eye contact makes his heartbeat speed up and his hands clammy. Simple touches make him jump and his heart vibrate. Affectionate words make his stomach flip and his brain question everything.
He tries his best to stay unaffected, or at least pretend he isn’t affected by whatever is going on between them. Hanging out with Connor is fun. The sex is too. He wants to keep it that way.
“I guess we won’t know until we get the script,” Connor says after a while, circling back to what Hudson asked when they entered the apartment. “Would be fun, though.” He shoots Hudson a look and Hudson distracts himself by drinking his ginger ale. “Show the fans just how good you really are at whimpering. They can overlay the vibrating noise.”
Hudson presses his thighs together as something starts stirring between his legs. It’s unfair, the way his body reacts to what Connor is saying, the way he is saying it. The grin on Connor’s mouth is audible in the way he speaks; Hudson doesn’t dare to look at him in fear of flushing deeper.
“Your performance would be just as important, you know,” Hudson says against the rim of the can in an attempt to divert the attention from himself to Connor. As if they’re not the only ones in the room.
He then adds, “Ilya’s dominance is quite palpable in the scene.”
Connor is silent for a moment, long enough that Hudson can’t help but glance over to see what he is thinking.
Big mistake.
Connor is sitting back on the couch, his legs a bit spread, and he’s looking at Hudson with a daring glint in his hazel eyes. He looks so good, his curls hanging loosely around his head; Hudson wants to pounce on him. “Shall we try it?”
“Try what?” Hudson asks, his voice suddenly an octave higher, and doesn’t miss the way Connor’s lips twitch with amusement. He coughs, recollecting himself. “The trophy room scene? You mean, act it out?”
Nodding, Connor puts his own drink on the table. “I don’t have a leather armchair, but I guess the couch will do,” he says and turns to Hudson again with a devilish smirk. “We can practice the scene and then use our experience for when we’re doing the script read-throughs.”
Hudson licks his suddenly dry lips. It wouldn’t be the first time they had practiced a scene; but somehow Hudson’s heart is thudding against his ribcage so hard, he is sure Connor can hear.
“Sure,” he says, as though Connor just suggested having pizza for dinner instead of acting out one of the raunchiest scenes in The Long Game. “You have the book here?”
Connor nods, walks over to one of the cabinets, and comes back with a copy. There are several sticky notes peeking from the pages in different colors.
“I’ve read it a couple of times,” Connor says as he stands in front of Hudson, who looks up at him. “The whole book, I mean. But mostly the sex scenes.”
Hudson can’t blame him. “Pervert,” he says, which only makes Connor smile wider. “Give me the book so I can see what position I have to be in.” He reaches out for the book, but Connor holds it up.
“I think you know.”
Shit.
Yeah, Hudson knows. He’s been obsessed with the scene, which is why he started talking about it in the first place. Everyone knows he’s obsessed with it. Excited for it.
Now, he’s rather nervous with Connor looming over him— with the idea of having Connor pretending to fuck him in doggy, on a pretend leather chair, in the privacy of the other man’s living room, that is a make trophy room.
“We can also start from the top,” Connor suggests when Hudson just keeps looking up at him, barely blinking. “From when Ilya arrives at Shane’s.”
“Let’s do that,” Hudson answers and stands up, snapping out of whatever trance he was in. Starting from the top would help him get into it, would help calm his nerves. Hopefully.
They walk over to the entrance of the living room. Connor is holding the book, has it open on the chapter with the trophy scene. He reads a bit, then looks at Hudson, who’s trying his best to read along without having to press his face flush against Connor’s.
“Are your parents still here?”
Oh, shit.
Okay.
They’re jumping right in.
Hudson takes a breath, ignoring the way Connor’s Russian accent makes his heart jump, and glances at the words because, even though he’s read the chapter many times before, the words are jumbled in his mind. “No, I told them they could go home. I love having them here, but I, um…”
“Want to be railed by your boyfriend?”
Hudson also ignores the way the word ‘boyfriend’ coming from Connor makes his stomach feel weird. This is Ilya and you are Shane, he reminds himself, his heart. “Fuck yes.”
Then Connor’s lips are on him before he can ask if they’re really going to kiss as well.
Of course they are.
The kiss is way more chaste than the one described in the book, but it’s enough to make Hudson melt. Something about the way their lips slot together so perfectly makes him putty in Connor’s hands. He holds onto Connor’s shoulders so he doesn’t topple over.
“Make me forget everything,” he whispers against Connor’s mouth and shudders when he feels hands on his waist playing with the hem of his t-shirt. “Just want to feel you.”
He feels Connor smile against his lips. Hudson knows it’s Connor smiling and not Ilya and it makes him feel like Connor can see right through him, that it wasn’t Shane saying those lines, but Hudson.
“This way,” Connor whispers before he takes Hudson’s hand and leads him back towards the couch.
“The hell? No way. Weird,” Hudson says, a bit rushed, which makes Connor snicker. Hudson can’t help but laugh too. “This is silly…”
Connor raises an eyebrow, as if to say that isn’t in the book.
“Is it?” he asks and Hudson isn’t sure whether Connor is referring to his last statement or him saying ‘weird’. But he can’t think for long because Connor’s finger is on his jaw, trailing the edge of it.
Then Connor continues, “I thought you need a reminder, before our meeting tomorrow.”
Hudson tips his head back on instinct. “Reminder of what?” he asks, barely remembering the words.
He gasps when Connor kisses him below his ear and fists a hand in Connor’s shirt.
“Of who the fuck you are.”
Another kiss, combined with those words, travels straight down to Hudson’s groin, his dick filling out his underwear. It’s way harder keeping his cool without a camera and crew surrounding them. Without intimacy garments shielding his cock.
He only remembers he’s supposed to say something when Connor holds the page in front of his nose. “Yes,” he reads, breathy. “Remind me.”
Next thing Hudson knows, Connor has him on his knees on the couch, his front facing the back of the couch and the window overlooking the neighbourhood. He leans forward on the backrest on his elbows, his lower arms lying flat.
“Look at all of this,” Connor says behind him. “You almost need two rooms.”
Hudson bites his lower lip, his eyes scanning the many buildings outside, considering their next moves. “So… are we going to pretend fuck now?” he asks and looks behind himself at Connor and gulps at the dark look in his eyes.
“Let’s see how far we can go,” Connor says and Hudson isn’t sure what to make of that. Before he can ask, however, Connor continues, “We can skip the cockring part, though, because, honestly, that would be weird to act out like this, especially since we don’t know how close to the book they’re going to keep this scene.”
Nodding, Hudson looks back at the city. “Yeah,” he sighs, laughing a little at the absurdity of what they’re doing. They’re both actors and actors practice scenes all the time, but somehow this feels self-indulgent. It feels as though they’re doing some elaborate foreplay that has Hudson on edge. He doesn’t know if Connor feels the same.
Instead of addressing the elephant in the room, he sits up a tad and turns his torso toward Connor. “Can I see the book for a bit? To see the lines.”
Connor hands him the book and he leafs through a couple of pages, trying to imprint the words in his mind. The task seems harder with the blood that’s needed in his brain rushing south. It’s the fact he’s in this position reading smut with Connor standing behind him. It’s the anticipation of what is about to happen.
When he tries to hand the book back to Connor, Connor waves it off. “I don’t need it for this part.”
Hudson scoffs and puts the book face down on the couch, keeping it open on the right pages just in case. “Prove it,” he says, and is glad his voice stays even despite his breathing having become shallower.
He looks back at the window and braces himself when he feels Connor’s hands on his hips. The hands are big and strong and they hold his hips perfectly, steadily, and Hudson is happy Connor can’t see his front because it’s embarrassing how hard he’s already getting.
“Let’s start from where Ilya finally starts fucking Shane,” Connor instructs, taking the lead as usual, and saying the words as though it’s the most casual sentence he has ever uttered.
Nodding, Hudson breathes in, preparing himself. “Fuck yes,” he says hoarsly, the words sounding like they’re not coming from himself. “Finally.”
Hudson freezes when Connor presses his crotch against his ass, making him feel that he isn’t the only one affected. The unexpectancy causes his head to spin and his next words fall from his mouth effortlessly. “Come on.”
Connor grinds against Hudson. Once. Twice. Rubbing his half-hard clothed dick against the fabric of Hudson’s dress pants. “Such a slut for it,” Connor says, the Russian accent back, while Hudson is quickly losing his mind. “Is it me that made you so horny, or is it the room?”
“What are you talking about?” Hudson asks. It’s taking everything in him not to move back against Connor, not to cross the line they’ve crossed many times before. But before, it was different.
Before, just looking at Connor didn’t make his heart race.
“Are you all turned on thinking about all of your…” Connor pauses, leans over Hudson’s large frame and rolls his hips hard. “Many.” Another strong rut. “Accomplishments.”
Fuck it, Hudson thinks and presses back against Connor, because he wants to. He wants to so badly, he feels heavy with relief when the friction between Connor’s growing erection and his ass is intensified. “It’s you,” he gasps, and it’s a confession. It’s Connor that has him hot and bothered. It’s Connor that is making him lose his mind. He just has to pretend it isn't. “It’s only you.”
Connor’s hot breath is against his ear then. “Do you want to know a secret?” Connor asks, his voice low, his hardening cock still pressed against Hudson’s ass. “I feel like I am fucking a king right now.”
“Ilya—”
Hudson gasps loudly when Connor grabs a handful of his hair and yanks his head back, the sound followed by a throaty moan, because, fuck, the feeling goes straight to his dick, filling it out more.
“Do you know how powerful it feels, fucking a king in his throne room?”
Hudson is barely hearing what Connor is saying. Blood is rushing in his ears. When Connor tugs on his hair, he whimpers. “Fu— fucking hell, Connor.”
He freezes.
Oh no.
So much for not crossing lines. So much for ‘practicing’.
But as soon as Hudson has realised his mistake, Connor is nipping at his neck, as though he was expecting it.
“Yeah? I don’t think that’s in the book,” Connor teases, dropping the accent, speaking to Hudson in his own velvety voice. He snakes the hand from Hudson’s hip down to the front of his pants, grabbing Hudson through the fabric. “Oh, Huddy…”
“Connor,” Hudson responds, wheezing, embarrassment ripping through his nerves. He shudders when Connor squeezes his dick through his pants. He shouldn’t be embarrassed, really, because Connor is just as hard as he is.
“You look good in this position, babe,” Connor says against Hudson’s hot neck. “With your back arched and your ass pressed against my cock, head pulled back.”
Hudson feels his cock twitch in Connor’s hold, which he can tell Connor feels too because he’s smiling against his neck now. “Are we still practicing?” he asks, voice strained because Connor is still holding his head in place.
Humming, Connor seems to consider it for a moment, or pretends to, and then lets go of Hudson’s hair. “If it’s okay with you, I would like to do a lot more than practicing.”
Hudson nods, his hair bouncing, and cranes his neck so Connor can keep trailing kisses toward the crook of his neck. “Yes, please,” he breathes.
“Take off your shirt,” Connor commands and steps back, removing himself from Hudson completely.
Hudson wastes no time and pulls his t-shirt over his head, leaving his chest bare. He feels cold without Connor pressed against him and is about to complain when Connor returns, also shirtless by the feeling of his chest flush against his back. Hudson wishes he could turn around, to look at Connor, admire his muscles, but he’s caged.
Instead, he basks in the feeling of Connor pressing light kisses on his shoulder. “Do you need time to prep?”
The blush that has been creeping up Hudson’s neck spreads to his back between his shoulderblades. “I have, uh… Before coming here… I already…”
Connor is silent for a moment — and Hudson nearly spirals because shouldn’t he have? — before he hums low, his lips pressed against Hudson’s spine, which feels like it’s on fire. “Were you hoping for this?”
Yes. “I mean, we usually— When we meet up—” Hudson Williams is usually not one to be at a loss of words, but with Connor standing over him, having him bent over the couch, the sentences he wants to produce fall apart on his tongue. Besides, he’d rather die than admit he hypothetically might have been hoping for this, for Connor to potentially fuck him.
When he feels Connor’s lips spread into a smile against his hot skin, embarrassment floods his body and he wishes the couch would swallow him whole.
“So you only hang out with me for the sex?”
It’s bait and Hudson takes it.
“That’s not what I mean, you dick,” Hudson snaps as he turns his head. All the air leaves his lungs when Connor immediately latches onto his lips, kissing him with a force that shouldn’t be possible in this position.
Hudson moans into Connor’s warm mouth when Connor waves a hand in his hair to turn his head more, giving him better access. The strain on his scalp from where Connor has his hair fisted in his hand makes him lightheaded with arousal.
He can’t kiss Connor back properly like this with his neck bent as an awkward position, but he does nothing to pull back either. It’s like he’s in a trance when Connor grabs his hair, returning the push and pull of the other’s lips with a desperation he’s sure he shouldn’t already be feeling.
When Connor slips his tongue in, they both moan with relief. The kiss turns messy, spit escaping from the corner of Hudson’s lips. He chases Connor’s tongue with his own, which distracts him from the feeling of Connor singlehandedly undoing the button and fly of his pants.
Then Connor pulls back and kisses down Hudson’s jaw. He lets go of Hudson’s hair and slides his hand down his neck, over his back toward his hips. “Can you stay in this position for a while?” he asks while pulling Hudson’s pants down.
Hudson sucks his lower lip between his teeth when he feels Connor’s thumbs hook in the waistband of his underwear. “Yeah,” he answers while Connor starts cascading kisses across his back, going lower and lower, while his trunks are slowly being pulled down. He holds his breath when he feels his hard dick spring free.
Connor kneels on the ground as soon as he reaches Hudson’s ass. He lets his lips linger on his left cheek while caressing the right. “Gorgeous,” he sighs and Hudson knows he’s talking about his stretch marks.
“Shut up and stop staring,” the latter says, squirming, earning himself a dark chuckle. “Fuck, Connor, if you don’t—”
Hudson is shut up when Connor suddenly licks a hot strip from his perineum up the cleft of his ass, giving extra pressure when he crosses his hole, and plants a wet kiss on his tailbone.
“This what you want?” Connor asks, his breath hot against Hudson’s exposed hole.
Too turned on to act coy, Hudson wiggles his ass in front of Connor’s face and feels his hard cock swing between his legs. “Yes,” he answers and when Connor doesn’t immediately continue his ministrations, he hangs his head, defeated. “Please…”
Connor grabs Hudson’s thick thighs and nudges them farther apart. “What was that?”
Hudson throws his head back in exasperation. “Please, Connor— Fuck…” He glances up at the ceiling, looks for his dignity, doesn’t find it, and sets his pride aside. “Please, baby, eat my a— Ah…” His frustration dissipates when he feels Connor’s tongue press against his hole, hot and wet. His head drops again and he bites down on his own wrist to stop from keening as he arches his back, pressing his ass into his best friend’s face.
“So impatient,” Connor teases, his voice annoyingly melodious, before he starts pressing lingering kisses on Hudson’s ass hole until it’s kissing him back, twitching against his lips. He then sucks on the rim, ripping a moan from deep within Hudson. “And eager…”
Hudson can’t even fight back because Connor is good at this; licking, biting and sucking on his puckered skin, making it slick and sensitive. Connor’s got the perfect tongue for this, too. It’s long and strong so when he flicks it against Hudson’s hole, Hudson feels it in his core. When Connor flattens it, lapping at Hudson’s entrance in long, languid strokes, Hudson’s world starts tilting.
The obscenity, the intimacy, of having Connor’s mouth where it doesn’t belong, but where it feels perfect, makes it hard for Hudson to think clearly. His mind is foggy with arousal, his chest tight with craving, and his cock heavy with lust.
It’s insanity— Hudson feels insane.
His rim is pulsating as Connor alternates between the motions, never letting him know what he’s going to do next. The anticipation causes his cock to leak an embarrassing amount of precum. He’s sure it’s dripping onto the blanket draped over the couch that he’s kneeling on, but doesn’t care.
He sucks in a breath when Connor pushes his tongue past the ring of muscle, penetrating him slightly, slowly. “Fuck… Connor, baby,” he whispers, resting his forehead against his wrist, which is wet with drool from biting down on it. With his free hand, he shamelessly starts playing with one of his perky nipples. The sensation goes straight to his groin.
Before long, he is fucking himself on Connor’s long tongue, rocking his hips back and forth, and Connor lets him. If anything, Connor is moaning with him, the sound muffled by his ass. He knows Connor loves this slutty side of him. He’s probably rubbing himself through his own jeans with his face pressed between Hudson’s cheeks.
Hudson hopes so.
“Oh my God,” he groans as he runs his hand down his toned chest toward his aching cock, but stops himself from touching it. He wants to. Badly. Every fiber in his body is begging him to wrap his hand around it. But he doesn’t. Instead, he presses his hand against his lower abdomen and focuses on the feeling of Connor’s tongue working him open. “Fuck, it feels so good…”
Connor hums, the vibrations traveling all the way up Hudson’s spine, making him shake. “You taste good,” he says as he pulls back a little and Hudson can feel his eyes on his hole, taking in the sight of his handiwork.
Hudson gasps when Connor spits on his hole, the action lewd and nasty and so fucking hot. He clenches subconsciously, his hole greedy for anything filling it up.
Connor taps Hudson’s slick hole with two of his fingers. Once, twice. He’s teasing Hudson with the thought that he might start fingering him, that he might start working him open properly, before he plunges his face back in between his cheeks to continue making out with his hole.
It should have been embarrassing, maybe, how much Hudson is enjoying this, how strong waves of pleasure undulate through his body, making him tremble. The way his cock is weeping and his balls have tightened makes it seem like he could come this way. Maybe he could.
But he doesn’t want to.
He wants to be filled. He wants Connor to fuck him open with his fingers and then his cock. He wants to be left gaping and still begging for more.
“Fuck, Connor, I need you in me,” he pants, though he doesn’t stop rocking back against Connor’s skilled tongue and perfect lips until Connor pulls back.
“Yeah?” Connor starts rubbing Hudson’s entrance with the tips of his index and middle finger.
Hudson lets out a needy “mh-hm” from the back of his throat, earning himself a dark chuckle.
“My tongue isn’t enough? You need more?”
A heat washes over Hudson as Connor pushes the tip of his index finger past his rim just slightly, teasing him. Fuck off, is what he wants to say. As if you aren’t dying to fuck me, is what he should have said. “I do,” is what he answers shamelessly, needily, and moans in protest when the fingers disappear from his puckering skin.
Connor stands, but not before giving Hudson’s hole a quick peck. “Stay here.”
“Where the fuck are you going?” Hudson asks, only noticing those are the exact words in the book when he sees Connor’s amused grin. He remembers how long Ilya made Shane wait while getting lube and scowls. “Please don’t take long.”
Thankfully, Connor does not take long. In the minute Connor was gone, Hudson has taken off his pants completely and is now propped up on his knees on the couch stark naked, his body already glistening with sweat.
“Just as obedient as Shane,” Connor observes as he repositions himself behind Hudson. He bends over towards Hudson’s red ear. “Only getting out of position to take off your clothes for me.”
“Are you going to talk to me or are you going to get me ready for your cock?” Hudson bites back.
A surprised gasp leaves his mouth when Connor’s hand lands harshly against his ass cheek, the sound of the slap echoing in his ears.
“I might not fuck you at all if you talk to me like that, Huddy,” Connor says, his tone carrying a warning, and Hudson feels himself growing impossibly harder. “Might leave you like this, actually.” Connor sucks Hudson’s earlobe between his teeth and nibbles. “Hard and leaking from just getting your ass ate.”
Hudson’s ears perk up at the sound of a cap popping open. “You’re hard too.”
Connor spanks Hudson again, harder this time, making him yelp. “Yeah, but I’m not acting like a needy bitch in heat.” With that, he straightens himself and he pushes the first finger into Hudson, who lets out a wanton moan and immediately pushes back against the intrusion. “See?”
“Sh-shut up,” Hudson gasps, before he can think, and mewls when Connor smacks his ass again with his free hand. “Fuck…”
A post-spanking warmth spreads across his stinging ass cheek. Hudson imagines it’s red and possibly sporting a handprint, which Connor must be admiring.
By the time a second finger joins the first, Hudson is back to biting down on his wrist to keep from moaning loudly, desperately. Connor’s fingers are curled in a way that they just barely grace his prostate. It frustrates him and makes him try to tilt his hips in a way that chases the hope of his sweet-spot being hit. But Connor won’t let up.
Hudson thinks about what he looks like right now, with his back arched, thighs trembling and beads of precum dripping from the head of his rock-hard dick.
Truly like a bitch in heat.
When he hears Connor take off his remaining clothing while the fingers are scissoring him open followed by the click of a cap, Hudson starts babbling enthusiastically. “Yes, yes, fuck yes,” he moans against his wet wrist. He sighs when Connor slips his fingers out and braces himself for what is about to come. “Please, fuck me, god…”
However, instead of Connor applying more lube to his hole to accommodate his cock, Hudson feels the inside of his thighs being lathered with the slick substance.
“What—”
“Press your thighs together, babydoll.”
Hudson swallows.
What?
“Con—” Hudson is cut off by his own wail when Connor slaps his ass, his hand landing hard on the cheek that hadn’t been spanked before.
“Close your legs,” Connor demands, voice stern, and Hudson hears the slick sound of him lubing up his cock.
Fuck.
Obeying, Hudson lets his knees meet on the couch and presses his sticky thighs together. His body feels like it’s aflame as he feels Connor stand behind him bracketing his calves, a leg on each side of his own that are pressed together.
Moaning, Hudson involuntarily presses his legs tighter together when he feels Connor press the head of his cock to the back of his thighs, teasing him there as he would tease his hole.
Hudson can’t believe this is happening. This shouldn’t be happening. Connor should be fucking his ass, not his thighs. What’s worse, it shouldn’t turn him on this much, shouldn’t make his cock jump with excitement. The idea of getting his thighs fucked shouldn’t be this alluring.
Yet it is. And he moans again when he feels Connor’s length slide between his thighs. Connor’s own pleasured groan adds fuel to the flames lapping at Hudson’s sanity.
“Good boy,” Connor praises, his voice strained, as he slowly drags his cock back and forth between Hudson’s thick thighs just below his balls. When Hudson arches his back and presses his thighs together impossibly tighter, Connor audibly bites back a chuckle. “So slutty, too...”
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are.” Connor spanks Hudson again, harder this time, as soon as the last word left his mouth and Hudson can’t help but whimper pathetically, all thoughts evaporating from his mind. “Slutty enough to let me fuck your thighs.”
The fact that this was Connor’s own idea doesn’t come to Hudson and he just nods. He’s slutty enough to fucking enjoy this, to bask in the feeling of Connor’s thick cock sliding between his slick thighs and dragging alongside his own dick. It teases him, stimulating him but not nearly enough.
“Your thick, muscular, perfect thighs,” Connor groans as he picks up his pace. He grabs Hudson’s waist, his thumbs digging in his lower back. “And these dimples, fuck…”
Hudson mewls deep down his throat at the praises. He doesn’t know which is worse— which is better: Connor complimenting his body or Connor degrading him.
It doesn’t matter. Both make his cock twitch.
He holds onto the back of the couch as Connor moves against him. He feels his ass jiggle from the impact of Connor’s thrusts and it’s a miracle his balls aren’t getting crushed. He’s momentarily reminded of filming their first sex scene together, the one that left his tummy aching. But Connor is careful now. Not gentle, but his angle is just right.
“Fuck…” Hudson moans when Connor starts rubbing his still wet hole with his thumb, making him forget everything else but the fact that he’s loosened up and ready.
“Feeling empty?” Connor asks, his smile audible in the teasing tone of his voice, as though he can read Hudson’s thoughts.
“Please,” Hudson tries and gasps when Connor puts pressure on his entrance with the tip of his thumb.
“Please what?” Connor asks, still relentlessly rolling his hips against Hudson and obviously enjoying the selfish pleasure he’s receiving from the thighs wrapped around his cock.
“It’s unfair!” Hudson whines and turns his head to glare at Connor from the corner of his eye.
Connor smirks, still thrusting. His curls have started to stick to his skin with sweat and his cheeks are flushed with arousal. “What is?” he asks as he just barely pushes the tip of his thumb inside Hudson’s hole, which is twitching hungrily, trying to suck it in.
“Are you really going to make me say it?”
The words have barely left his mouth when Connor grabs him by the hair and yanks him back, making his back arch painfully, deliciously. He sputters as breathing suddenly becomes harder. His cock jumps between his legs as more blood instantaneously rushes south, making him lightheaded.
“I want you to beg for it,” Connor growls, his lips pressed against Hudson’s ear as he rolls his hips against Hudosn’s ass.
“I want to hear how badly you want me to fuck you, how desperate you are for my cock. You are not getting anything unless you fucking beg for it.”
Hudson curses wordlessly, his eyes slipping close as his stomach churns. “Connie…” he mutters weakly in protest, his voice throaty from his neck bending backward.
“Say: ‘Please, Connor, please fuck me’,” Connor says mockingly, the words burning down Hudson’s cochlea, the syllables crashing into his brain, making everything spin.
When Connor talks to him like this Hudson’s stubborn pride turns into a primal urgency to have his needs met, no matter the cost. Those needs right now are Connor’s cock inside him fucking him senseless. The price is his dignity.
“Plea—se,” he starts, voice breaking, ego crumbling, and cock leaking, “Connor, please— my god, please just fuck me.” The words come out labored, helpless. “I need it.”
Connor’s cock jumps between Hudson’s thighs. “Good boy, Huddy.” He tugs at Hudson’s hair a little harder, making him whimper. “That wasn’t so hard, mh?” He then lets go of Hudson and steps back slightly. His hard dick falls away from Hudson’s thighs and now hangs heavy between his own legs.
Hudson shudders, visibly shaking, mind cloudy. Maybe it’s the lack of air from having his head pulled back, maybe it’s the effect Connor has on him, but he’s feeling floaty, like his ability to think is lagging behind his consciousness. Like Connor could do anything to him and he would take it. Enjoy it. He knows he would enjoy it, whatever Connor would give him.
The sound of Connor slicking up his cock some more is like music to his ears and he involuntarily moans as he hangs his head, which makes the other man chuckle.
“It will sound even better when I am inside of you,” Connor says with a confidence that makes Hudson moan again, and pours a generous amount of lube onto Hudson’s entrance before pressing the head of his cock against it. He puts one hand on Hudson’s waist. “Ready?”
Hudson nods against his forearm and arches his back, presenting himself, encouraging Connor to put it in. “Please,” he adds for good measure.
He doesn’t need to say more.
Connor pushes his cock in steadily, almost agonizingly slowly. Hudson can feel every inch as it spreads him open farther than the fingers fucking him open could have prepared him for. The burn of the stretch travels through his body just as slowly as the cock entering him. He loves it. He has to bite his lower lip not to make embarrassing sounds, which he knows he’s going to be doing anyway once they’ve found a steady rhythm. Sex with Connor unfurls him in a way that makes him loud.
After what feels like hours later, the coarse hair of Connor’s pubes press flat against Hudson, his cock fully inside, and they breathe together— Hudson because he has to adjust to Connor’s cock shaping him to his girth, and Connor because, well, Hudson knows his tight hole drives him crazy.
Connor is bent slightly over Hudson and has both his hands on Hudson’s sides, his thumbs rubbing soothing circles in his skin. “Good?” Connor asks, his inhale and exhale matching Hudson’s.
An affirmative hum leaves Hudson. He doesn’t dare to open his mouth, lest he whimpers wantonly. He’s so full. The curve of Connor’s thick cock is pressed against his prostate, leaving him breathless.
“I need you to use your words, babydoll.”
It’s the second time Connor uses that pet name tonight, but this time, with his dick buried deep inside of him, Hudson’s whole body trembles upon hearing it. The name is achingly sweet, not fit for the situation they’re in, making it sound lewd. Making Hudson feel small despite his height and muscles.
He releases his bottom lip from between his teeth and takes a breath to start talking, but a hiccuped moan slips past his lips instead when Connor starts pulling out.
Fucker.
“Oh my God,” he breathes as Connor pushes his cock back in, fucking him in measured, unhurried thrusts. “Yes— fuck… G-good,” he finally answers, his forehead pressed against his forearm. His other hand travels down his chest toward his untouched cock.
The moan of relief as he wraps his hand around it is soon followed by a startled gasp when Connor slaps his hand away.
“Nu-uh.” Connor stills his hips before he pulls Hudson’s hard cock back, tugging it between his still slick thighs. “I didn’t say you could touch yourself.”
“Connor,” Hudson growls— at least, he meant to, but it comes out a mewl as said man picks up his languid pace, now fucking him in earnest. He pushes himself up, steadying himself on his arms, hands gripping the edge of the backrest of the couch. Despite himself, he presses his thighs together tighter, making sure his cock won’t spring free.
The sound of their skin slapping as Connor’s hips collide with Hudson’s ass mixed with Connor’s low grunts and the staccato moans of Hudson fill the room. The smell of sweat and sex is pungent, heavy, but neither man cares. The only thing they care about is the place they are connected.
And Connor had been right: the wet squelching sound of the lube doing its job does sound better like this, with Connor’s cock thrusting in and out of Hudson’s quivering hole.
“Fuck, baby, you feel so fucking good,” Connor groans before skillfully grabbing Hudson’s arms, folding them behind his back and holding both his wrists with one hand, keeping them in place.
Hudson falls forward, his chest pressed against the backrest, and he whimpers pitifully, completely stupid, as Connor starts jackhammering into him. “Con— Jesus… Christ. Ba—ah—be. F-fuck.” His words aren’t making sense, but with the fat cock sliding against his prostate, he can only babble in between the rough thrusts mauling him into the couch.
“Such a good fucking doll,” Connor moans, his grip on Hudson’s wrist stony, so firm it will probably leave a mark, and his pace ruthless. “Letting me fuck him with his sorry dick trapped between his thighs.”
Keening, Hudson lets the obscene words and their condescending tone wash over him and settle in the pool of warmth gathering in the pit of his stomach. He’s getting dangerously close already, which shouldn’t be happening. He wants to enjoy this for far, far longer.
“Connie,” he gasps, his cheek squished against the backrest as he tries to turn his head to shoot Connor a look.
“Already?” Connor asks, a derisive smirk curling his lips and fuck, Hudson is hurtling toward the edge at a speed that he hadn’t felt since his puberty. Then the corner of Connor’s heart-shaped lips lifts more. “Keep it in.”
“Can’t,” Hudson heaves, his eyes rolling back. His prostate is pulsating with the heat of a thousand suns and his hands flex helplessly in Connor’s grip. “Fuck, fuck, fuck—”
“Don’t. Come.”
Hudson whines, trying to find the muscles in his groin that will keep him from coming, to prolong the feeling of the inevitable orgasm undoing him. Doing so, he squeezes his thighs together, squishing his throbbing cock. And he keeps whining with every thrust, subconsciously trying to move away from the impact, but Connor has him locked between his legs and the couch.
Just as he’s starting to see white and his whole body is beginning to buzz, everything disappears: Connor’s grasp on his wrists, the legs holding him in place, the thick cock working him open. He slumps against the couch, breathing heavily, ass still in the air, dick still hard and leaking, and orgasm ruined. His eyes are glazing over as frustrated fucked-out tears blurr his sight.
“Good boy,” Connor praises, drawing out the first word. Admiring the gaping hole in front of him, he spits on it, making Hudson flinch. “Listening so well…”
“Fuck…” Hudson murmurs against the couch. He closes his wet eyes and flinches again when Connor licks a hot stripe across his sensitive hole. His rim is throbbing pleasantly. When Connor kisses it softly, almost lovingly, a choked whimper travels through Hudson’s throat.
Then Connor’s presence disappears again before the couch dips beside Hudson. “Come here,” Connor says, now sitting on the couch, his legs slightly spread and his cock proud and hard between his thighs.
Hudson wants it.
Instead of moving to Connor’s lap, Hudson slides off the couch like he’s drunk and settles on the floor in between his costar’s athletic legs. He looks up Connor’s toned body, teary eyes raking over the many freckles and moles. Then he locks eyes with Connor through his wet lashes.
“Want to taste yourself on my dick, sweetie, mh?” Connor reaches out a hand and strokes Hudson’s flushed cheek, his thumb wiping away a stray tear.
Nodding, Hudson nuzzles Connor’s hand and feels his stomach getting warm with something that isn’t lust. The warmth crashes through the floor, though, when the hand pulls back and smacks him across the face hard enough that it sends his head sideways, a surprised gasp leaving his mouth. Then the same hand is grabbing his chin forcefully, making him look up again.
“Speak,” Connor demands in a low, stern voice, as if he is some fucking dog that has to bark for treats.
And it turns him on so much that it takes him a second to get his tongue to work. Like his body had a lag time in responding to his brain.
“I want to taste myself on your cock,” he says, his cheek stinging. He has a hard time accepting that getting slapped in the face makes his cock jump excitedly, so he pushes that to the back of his mind and resorts to begging pitifully. “Please... Baby, let me—” He pauses, embarrassed. “—s-suck your cock…”
Connor slaps Hudson’s other cheek, which makes him whimper painfully, blissfully. “Such a shameless fucking slut for it.”
Hudson’s cock twitches between his legs and leaks against his thigh. “I am a slut for it,” he affirms, voice barely above a whisper, hoping that is what Connor wants to hear. At this point he would say anything to have his cock in his mouth. He’s too far gone to think about the fact that he is naked on his knees on the floor pleadingly looking up at his best friend.
He must look fucking pathetic.
He doesn’t care.
“Let me have it, please,” he begs, eyes drooping as he looks up at Connor.
Smiling, Connor pats Hudson’s red cheek with the tips of his fingers. Without saying anything, he guides Hudson’s face toward his crotch, which Hudson takes as permission granted.
He moans when his lips come in contact with the glistening skin of Connor’s dick. He runs his tongue alongside it, tasting lube, salt and musk. He should be disgusted, really, because it has been inside of him, but instead he enthusiastically takes the tip into his mouth. He loves the taste of himself, of Connor, of what they’ve been doing.
“Fuck, Hudson,” Connor groans and weaves his hand into Hudson’s disheveled hair, holding it loosely.
Hudson swirls his tongue around the cockhead, his head bobbing around the first few inches. He has both hands on Connor’s thighs to keep himself steady as he tries to take more and more into his mouth until he’s struggling for breath and pulls off. Holding the base of Connor’s cock, he starts pressing small kisses into the shaft. He traces one prominent vein with his tongue before sinking his mouth back down, taking in more than before. The weight of it on his tongue and the pressure of it against the roof of his mouth empties his mind, completely blissed out.
Connor grunts above him, his hand tightening in his hair, so he looks up and whines around the length upon seeing Connor’s blown out pupils, flushed cheeks and pursed lips. They hold eye contact as Hudson sucks Connor’s cock. Hudson is still holding the base of the length while he hollows his cheeks, creating a suction that has Connor moaning with pleasure.
“You’ve gotten so good at this,” Connor praises, his voice breathy, and grins. “But I know you can do better.”
Hudson moans, chest flaring at the compliment followed by the challenge. He knows that Connor said this to fire him up: the constant need to excel, it consumes him.
Before he can take more of Connor’s cock into his mouth, down his throat, and show him that he can do better, Connor takes his hair in his fist to hold him still.
“Hands behind your back,” Connor orders and Hudson can’t help but moan again, his mouth still full of cock.
He obeys, letting go of Connor’s thighs before grabbing his left wrist with his right hand behind his back and breathes deeply through his nose. Then Connor is moving, bucking his hips up, fucking into Hudson’s willing mouth.
Moaning appreciatively, Connor uses the leverage he has on Hudson’s hair to move him up and down, to meet his thrusts halfway. To use Hudson’s mouth. And Hudson can’t complain, even if he wanted to. He tries to relax his glottis to allow Connor to push his thick cock deeper, to make him use his throat too.
Connor does.
“Fuck, that’s good,” he groans as he stills his hips and starts yanking on the hair atop Hudson’s head, holding him steady as he makes him bob his head, pushing him down far enough that he coughs around his cock. His cock that disappears almost fully into Hudson’s hot, wet mouth.
Almost.
“Like that,” Connor moans, his head falling back, as Hudson gags and gags and gags until he jerks Hudson’s head up, away from his cock.
Spit falls from Hudson’s lips as he wheezes. “Fuck…” he says coarsly. His hands are still behind his back and all his balance is in Connor’s tight grip. He looks up at the other man, watching him breathe heavily, his pecs heaving.
Hudson sticks out his tongue, silently begging for more, which results in Connor bending forward a little to spit on it. A throaty whine leaves Hudson at the filth of it, of Connor spitting into his mouth.
Then Connor taps Hudson’s tongue with his dick, creating a wet slapping sound that sends waves of arousal down Hudson’s body, before he pulls Hudson’s head a little closer and pats his cheek with his wet cock. It shouldn’t be as exciting as it is; it shouldn’t make Hudson moan, but it does.
“Little cockslut,” Connor muses, still slapping Hudson’s face with his cock. “Think you can take all of it down your throat?”
“Yes, Connie,” Hudson answers without thinking and tries to nod, but Connor’s grip is firm. He wants it, to try at least. “Please.”
“Open up then, Huddy,” Connor says and pulls Hudson’s head back down when he obliges. He doesn’t wait and fucks Hudson’s mouth immediately, wasting no time to abuse his throat.
Hudson takes it. Loves it. If the way his cock has been leaking and throbbing steadily is anything to go by. The same way he almost came when Connor was eating his ass, he could probably come like this too. Barely able to see, barely able to breathe, barely able to think; all he can do is feel. And what he feels is the immense pleasure of taking whatever Connor is giving him. The obscene satisfaction of being used like this is coursing through his veins, numbing the burning in his throat.
Suddenly, Connor forces him down completely, his nose crushed against his lower abdomen, his lips tickled by coarse pubic hair. Hudson splutters around the intrusion, his throat constricting, as Connor moans above him. The sound encourages him to endure it, even though his arms are taut against his back as it is taking everything in him not to push himself off. His nails are digging into his own palm.
“God, babe,” Connor grunts, bucking his hips up lightly as though he wants to go even deeper.
Hudson is sobbing, gagging, choking, until Connor relents, letting go of his hair and allowing him to pull back. Hudson almost falls backward; he catches himself on his arms, legs folded beneath himself, and is heaving heavily while dazedly staring up at Connor with half-lidded, teary eyes.
His cock is standing proudly between his legs, the head an angry red and swollen. He sees Connor taking notice of it, sees him smirk, feels himself go gooey with humiliation. He’s so hard despite his air flow just having been cut off— because of it.
Then Connor pats his own thighs and Hudson wills himself off the floor, his legs shaky. He straddles Connor, who immediately cups his face and pulls him down for a messy kiss.
“So good,” Connor whispers into Hudson’s mouth, a soothing hand running down Hudson’s back. “So good for me.”
Hudson moans, the sound swallowed by Connor kissing him again. He sucks on Connor’s tongue, enjoying the length of it, once again not giving a fuck that it has been in places he once deemed unhygienic.
Another moan leaves his lips when Connor cups his ass and gives his cheek a squeeze.
“Want you to ride me, baby,” Connor says, his low voice sending shudders down Hudson’s burning spine. “Can you do that for me?”
Hudson doesn’t have to be told twice. He scrambles for the lube that he finds discarded on the couch and fumbles with the cap. In his enthusiasm, his clumsiness, the slick bottle slips from his grip.
Connor laughs, which, dear God, causes Hudson’s cock to twitch. “Here.” Connor retrieves the bottle and squirts a generous amount on his index and pointer finger. “Let me.”
“Con…” Hudson moans when the fingers slip in between his cheeks and into his desperate hole. He clenches immediately, instinctively, already wanting more.
Laughing again, Connor slips his fingers out and smacks Hudson’s ass, causing Hudson to scoot forward, their cocks brushing against each other. “You’re so needy today,” Connor says, smiling, though it’s more of a leer. He pours more lube onto his fingers and very deliberately avoids Hudson’s cock as he lathers his own with the sticky substance. “Is it me that made you so needy, or was it the practice?” he asks, paraphrasing the book.
This time, Hudson doesn’t have to pretend. “It’s you,” he quotes, confesses, voice faltering as he lifts his hips slightly so Connor can line the head of his cock with his hole. “It’s only you,” he moans loudly as he sinks down and throws his head back. He’s shameless in the way he’s enjoying finally having Connor’s cock back inside of him and immediately starts bouncing.
“Yes, baby,” Connor says in a strained voice as he watches Hudson’s cock smack against his abdomen with each bound. His eyes are dark, his blue-green irises overtaken by his pupils, and his brows furrowed. His palms are resting loosely on Hudson’s hips, his fingers splayed over his ass cheeks. “Taking my dick so well— Fuck… Bouncing on it so prettily…”
Hudson preens at the praise and arches into Connor when the other man leans forward to press a wet kiss on his chest. He wouldn’t describe himself as pretty right now. He feels whorish as he keeps moving up and down in Connor’s lap. He is hot, literally, feeling his cheeks and chest burn a deep crimson. His brown nipples are perky, standing proud on his chest, and he cries out when Connor takes one of them into his mouth.
It doesn’t take long for him to start trembling as the familiarity of his orgasm itches closer. With Connor’s length pressing and sliding so deliciously against his prostate, it’s inevitable. Besides, this is the fourth time he’s nearing euphoria. This time he wants to chase it.
Connor watches, resting against the backrest with his mouth half agape as he takes in Hudson’s movements, which are becoming increasingly more wild. With a wolfish grin displayed on his lips, he asks in a gravely voice, “Feeling good?”
Hudson nods, completely feverish with the pleasure he’s receiving. “So good,” he moans, his nails digging into Connor’s freckled shoulders. “F-feels fucki— ah, fucking amazing, Connie.”
“Yeah?” Connor grabs Hudson’s jiggling ass, though still does nothing to guide his movements. “Gonna come on my cock?”
“Yes, yes, yes,” Hudson sobs, his own dick twitching and leaking uncontrollably, and looks at Connor with half-lidded eyes. He sucks his plump bottom lip between his teeth and bites, pursuing the warmth pooling in his groin, the one that makes his legs feel tingly and his toes curl.
“Gonna come untouched?”
The fact that his cock hasn’t been stimulated at all, unexpectedly drives Hudson over the edge so fast he’s seeing white. With an obscene wail, he comes hard between their bodies, his hips stuttering and his release making a mess of everything. It lands mostly on Connor, who’s groaning as Hudson clamps down around his cock while riding out his orgasm.
“Fuck…” Hudson breathes as he slows down and feels everything pulsing: his cock, his prostate, his hole—
He gasps when he’s suddenly lifted into the air, Connor’s cock slipping out of him, and wraps his arms around Connor’s neck so he doesn’t fall. His legs have gone limp, but Connor holds him steadily, moving him across the living room towards… towards—?
Another gasp leaves Hudson’s throat when he hears what sounds like papers and pens falling to the ground before his back hits a hard surface.
The dining table.
Connor is going to fuck him on the dining table.
The dirtiness of it, of his sweaty back on the table, of receiving Connor’s cock on the place reserved for eating, makes him dizzy. “Con—” he starts, but is cut off by his own whimper when Connor hooks his legs over his arms and slides his cock back into his sensitive hole.
With glazed over eyes, Hudson watches as Connor scoops some drying semen off his chest. He licks his lips in anticipation and obediently opens his mouth when Connor presents two wet fingers to him, letting Connor feed him his own fucking cum. It should disgust him, really, but he hums gratifyingly around the fingers as he swirls his tongue around them to get them clean. He nearly whines when Connor slips them out of his mouth again.
“You have no idea what you do to me,” Connor growls, snapping his hips forward in a pace that is immediate, urgent. He seems to have lost whatever self-control he had left.
“Tell me,” Hudson pants as he grabs the edge of the tabletop, fighting the urge to squirm away from the intrusion because it’s so much. His prostate is delicate and it’s overwhelming the way Connor is hitting it with every hard thrust. But he wants to be good, still.
Most importantly, he wants Connor to come.
“When you… look at me… with those eyes,” Connor says in between thrusts, eyes locked on Hudson’s. “God, they’re gorgeous— you’re gorgeous.”
Hudson whimpers, the sound high and embarrassing, the compliment settling in his heart.
“And— Fuck.. When you let me do whatever I want.”
“I love it,” Hudson admits in a shrill voice and breaks eye contact to arch his back. He’s squirming now, his legs kicking the air as Connor fucks him into overstimulation.
“God, and you feel so fucking good,” Connor groans, holding Hudson’s legs to stop him from getting away. “So fucking perfect around my cock.”
Please come, please come, please come, Hudson thinks, his head snapping up to look at Connor with pleading eyes. He doesn’t dare to open his mouth, knowing the sounds he will make are going to embarrass him into oblivion. With his mouth closed, he can only moan and whimper inwardly, the sounds nearly inaudible over the sound of their skin colliding.
Finally, Connor’s hips start to falter, though his speed doesn’t let up. “‘M close,” he moans and the relief Hudson feels nearly knocks him out. After a few more forceful thrusts, Connor pulls out and immediately wraps his hand around his thick cock. He pumps it, creating a wet squelching sound with the lube and precum until he’s erupting all over Hudson’s shaking thighs and heaving chest with a guttural moan.
Hudson watches it happen, his eyes darting between Connor’s blissed out expression — his brows furrowed, his eyes nearly closed, and his lips pursed — and the cum splattering against his skin. He feels his own cock stir upon the sight of Connor’s bicep bulging as the latter jerks himself through his orgasm.
Still feeling loopy, Hudson lies there, his legs dangling awkwardly. Until Connor leans forward to kiss him. It’s unexpected, but Hudson gratefully wraps his legs around Connor’s waist and his arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer.
The kiss is slow, no tongues involved, as both of them are still catching their breath and coming down from their high. It’s just lips on lips, mouths open, eyes closed.
Hudson’s body is still quivering with the aftershock of his orgasm still coursing through him and the strain it had on his muscles. He’s sure Connor can feel him shaking because he’s smiling into the kiss. Hudson bites Connor’s lower lip rather harshly in retribution because Connor is the reason he’s still trembling.
“Ouch,” Connor whispers, feigning pain but still smiling as he pulls back from the kiss and looks down at Hudson. His eyes are soft, all the lust from earlier gone and replaced by something that makes Hudson’s heart race all over again.
When Connor just keeps looking at him — staring, really, as though he’s thinking things he wants to say aloud that he can’t — Hudson gives his shoulder a light smack. “Are you going to stand there and gawk until all the cum’s dried or what?” He’s glad his voice comes out the way he wants to: playfully scolding. It masks the fact that for the first time tonight he’s truly feeling naked with the way Connor is suddenly fixated on him.
Connor seems to be pulled out of his trance and returns the smack, his hand landing flat on in Hudson’s broad chest. “Alright, princess, let’s get you cleaned up then. You think you can walk?”
Hudson has no time registering what being called ‘princess’ does to him because in a second he’s seized up in Connor’s strong arms, not giving him time to answer the question either.
“Put me down, you asshole! I can walk,” Hudson protests, but doesn’t struggle in Connor’s grip. He tells himself it’s because he’s afraid to fall and not because he likes Connor treating him like a princess, too.
He doesn’t realize Connor is carrying him to his bedroom until he’s gently laid down on the sheets.
“Stay here,” Connor orders before he walks out.
Hudson takes a good look at Connor’s ass as he watches him leave before he completely relaxes against the mattress and stares up at the ceiling in a daze. He wills his heart to stop beating in overdrive, but it ignores him and happily pumps blood into his body at what feels like a thousand miles per hour as he thinks about the sex he’s just had.
Fuck, he thinks, a delirious smile fluttering to his lips, as he drapes on arm across his eyes.
He’s so fucked.
Literally and figuratively.
But before he can dwell on it too long, Connor returns with a warm washing cloth and starts rubbing it on his spent body. He notices Connor has already cleaned himself while he was in the bathroom.
“We could’ve just showered, you know,” Hudson says, as though Connor cleaning his body is an inconvenience to him. Which it isn’t. Quite the opposite, actually.
“With the way your legs are still shaking, I don’t think you can stand that long.”
Hudson rolls his eyes, the blush that had finally subsided coming back at full force. “And whose fault is that?”
“You wanted to practice the trophy room scene.”
“That was your idea!”
“And you happily got on your knees,” Connor teases as he carefully takes Hudson’s soft dick into his hand and starts cleaning it. He then adds, grinning, “Twice.”
Hudson winces and reaches out to get Connor off his penis. “I can do that myself.”
“Lie down.” Connor’s tone is stern.
If Hudson wasn’t completely spent, he would’ve grown hard in an instant. Instead, he complies and lies back down, much to Connor’s amusement if his satisfied smile is anything to go by.
“Let me take care of you, Huddy,” Connor says.
Hudson knows they’re bordering a dangerous territory that best friends, co-workers, shouldn’t cross. He knows that best friends don’t clean each other’s cocks.
But best friends also don’t eat each other out, fuck each other’s thighs, spit into each other’s mouths, suck each other’s dicks, or fuck each other’s ass.
Best friends don’t stare at each other lovingly after mindblowing sex either.
“There.”
Connor’s voice pulls Hudson back to earth.
“I’ll put this cloth in the bin and then come back for cuddles,” Connor says, already getting off the bed.
Hudson swallows thickly. Right.
Dangerous territory.
He pushes the thought away and lets himself enjoy this. Whatever this is. Because whatever this is, is fucking amazing and he selfishly wants to get used to it.
By the time Connor returns, Hudson has buried himself underneath the blanket and is drowsily staring into nothing. He feels the mattress dip where Connor is getting on and happily lifts the blanket to invite him. On instinct, he’s turning around and snuggles back into Connor’s body.
“We should probably still shower, though,” he mutters once he’s settled as the little spoon. “I was sweating a lot and it will make your bed dirty.”
Connor hums behind him and presses a kiss to the back of his neck. “Okay, Shane Hollander.”
Hudson kicks back, making Connor laugh into the crook of his neck, the rumble of it travelling toward his stomach, waking up the butterflies.
“Tomorrow is laundry day anyway, so don’t worry,” Connor says as he makes himself more comfortable against Hudson, his arms holding Hudson close and their legs entangled.
This time Hudson hums, the drowsiness he felt earlier returning. He feels content, his body still thrumming with a sensual afterglow and his mind too cloudy for his brain to warn him against his feelings. Connor holding him close feels nice, safe—
Until Connor opens his mouth again and says something that has Hudson wide awake and his mind spiraling for hours, days…
“By the way, about that cockring, I was actually serious. If you want to try, you’ll just have to tell me.”