Dating Rules and Pretty Fools Chapter 21

Dating Rules And Pretty Fools – Ch. 21

By Laura S. Fox

Gay Erotica

Intended for Mature Audiences Only

This story will contain graphic depictions of sexual intercourse, strong language and it is not meant for readers who are less than 18 years of age.

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Chapter Twenty-One – A Beautiful Accident

He was taking chances, Gavin had warned him. Hudson looked at the back of Jackie's head. Silence had settled between them after having the young man sign the papers that made him into an informant for law enforcement and, for a while, it was all right to let things take their natural course, whatever that would be. In the light of what had transpired in the interrogation room earlier that evening, Jackie needed – and was granted – time to adjust.

Yes, he was taking chances, but he trusted Jackie even more after discovering that one of the murdered models had been the guy's lover. Hudson hated the part of himself that was all right with showing someone the earthly remains of one who had shared his bed and most probably more than that. It was one of those necessary evils, or so his reasoning went. His thoughts wandered to Otis, uninvited. His mind had a way of conjuring up the worst-case scenario. It was par for the course, as far as his detective work went, but in this case, it hurt. How would Otis react to being called to identify a body, one that used to belong to someone close?

Hudson squeezed the wheel and sighed. Otis's old scar was presently on his mind, as well. The beautiful young man, as innocent as he was in his dealings with men and sex, had plenty of bad history he wished to forget. Otherwise, he wouldn't ask so pointedly not to be questioned about it. Yet, Hudson wished he could learn everything, even about the bad in his boyfriend's life.

He liked to think of himself as someone with the right motivations. In this case, saving his undercover op had come with certain advantages. He could continue to be part of Otis's life. If anyone knew, Gavin, the captain, they would tell him what he was doing was wrong. And he knew it. But, at the same time, the die had been cast. Now, he needed to remain close to Otis so that he could protect him. Cold sweat lingered at the small of his back, a reminder of the evening's unfurling of events. Jackie's decision to become a snitch for the police might have saved more than Hudson's undercover op tonight. That disgusting waste of space called Watkins had seen Otis once. Who was to say that he wouldn't come sniffing around?

"What about Otis?" Jackie asked morosely as if Hudson's thoughts of his neighbor-slash-boyfriend had just triggered that question. "Is he a cop, too? Are you a couple of cops on the job?"

"No, Otis is not a cop." There was no need to beat around the bush. Jackie knew they were together.

"Then what is he?" Jackie asked, some of the rancor from before still tainting his voice with belligerence.

"He is..." Hudson took his time to come up with the proper response. "He's a beautiful accident, that's what he is."

Jackie turned to stare at him in disbelief. "The fuck you mean?"

Hudson shrugged. "We just happened, he and I."

"My dumb luck then, I guess," Jackie mumbled. "I see one guy who's as pretty as..." he didn't continue and let the words – and a beloved name – die on his lips. "I don't fall for just anyone, so you know."

"I know," Hudson said grimly. "If it's any help, I take no pleasure in this."

"You stole the guy from me," Jackie argued. "And you lied. You heard me talking, Otis this, Otis that. You couldn't have thought there's a weird name coincidence. Not many people named Otis around."

It was a matter up for debate, but the last thing Hudson wanted was to get into a long discussion about being right or wrong. "I told Otis to stay clear of you. The moment he mentioned your name."

"Did he tell you about me? What did he say?"

Hudson threw Jackie a curt look. "You have no chance with him. Beat it, man."

"Yeah, okay, fine," Jackie replied and crossed his arms. "So, does he know?"

There was no need to ask what. "No, and you won't tell him, either."

"Because you'll punch me in the face again? Okay, stop giving me the stink eye. I get it. Fuck, to think that you've worked with me for weeks, and I had no idea."

"Do you think you can do this, Jackie?" Hudson asked abruptly. "Keep a straight face when Watkins is around? Help me catch those bastards?"

"For Sweetheart, I'm going to do it," Jackie promised. "How do you do it, though? I mean, Otis must think you're some shady photographer. Doesn't that bother him? He's such a goody-two-shoes."

Hudson felt a smile twisting his lips for a moment. The night had worn him out almost completely. Just thinking of Otis's sneaky stalking at the start of their getting to know each other was bound to make him feel lighter, though. "He's very direct. If he had been bothered, he would have told me."

"A beautiful accident," Jackie said the words slowly, quoting Hudson. "You mean, you're not supposed to hook up while on the job, right?"

"It's not hooking up. Otis is my boyfriend," Hudson said. How strange to hear those words coming from his lips. A good reason for a laugh or two, at least as far as his present acquaintances were concerned.

"Damn. I really have no chance left," Jackie said in self-deprecation and shook his head. "So, how are we going to do this? What's my job?"

"Your job is to keep your eyes peeled and your ears perked up like a hound. Watkins trusts you, so he might slip up in front of you."

"Obviously, he doesn't trust me enough, or I would have known about--" Jackie let out a small choking sound and looked out the car window again.

"That's a good sign," Hudson offered to comfort him. "He doesn't believe you're made out of the same evil material as he and his boss are. But that doesn't mean that he will be as careful around you as he is around me."

"He used to be on the fence about you. He told me that. He said something like not knowing exactly what's wrong with you, but that he feels there's something."

"Used to. Now, he has better feelings for me, doesn't he?"

"Yeah. There was that thing with the police raid at Twinlight."

"And then, he sent his goons to go through my stuff," Hudson added.

Jackie gave him a surprised look. "What do you mean? What did they find?"

"Nothing. That must have strengthened my position with the company, or whatever the organization Watkins is running can be called."

"He did seem rather impressed in a positive way with you. He said that he doesn't like all these hipsters who think they can break into the porn industry, but you're the real deal. If only he knew," Jackie concluded with a snort. And then, after he noticed the way Hudson stared at him, "Not that I'll say anything. My lips are sealed. Now, I don't know one thing about this bigger boss you're talking about. How come you know?"

There was no need to put Jasper in the crossfire. Hudson was a miser when it came to sharing the information he knew. And it was better if Jackie simply treated Jasper as usual without suspecting anything. There was trust, and there was trust. It was bad enough that Jasper might be pressured by Watkins into confessing how Hudson had helped him. That is if the boy was so incredibly unlucky that Watkins's goons found him and brought him back for the big debut of the new club.

"I came across a piece of interesting conversation," he said vaguely. "There was talk about how to proceed about the bodies."

Jackie shivered at the sound of that. His attractive face scrunched up, and there were new lines where there had been none before. "They still do this thing, don't they? Are there other... victims," he asked while sucking in a shaky breath, "I mean, besides the guys you told me about?"

"Not that we know of. But think about what the new club is called. Something must have happened that drove them under cover for a while, but it looks like they're getting back to it, and with a bang."

"Till The Sweet End," Jackie recalled and he frowned. "I had no idea people so fucked up existed... why the hell are they doing this?"

If only there was a simple answer to such a question. "The same reason why horrible people throughout history have tortured, maimed and killed others."

"Some sort of sick pleasure? Is that it? But those guys... they were--" Jackie stopped to consider his words as his gaze floated ahead, deep into the darkness stretching before the car, beyond the streaks of light making the road visible. "They were so full of life," he said quietly.

"When Watkins came around to hire me, he told me that he's searching for desperate guys looking to turn a quick buck. Were they desperate?"

Jackie knew very well who Hudson was talking about. "Yeah, I guess. Mostly, runaways. Guys coming from bad places. Not Stud, though. No, he was into it for the kink. But he didn't want people to know what he was doing for fun. He had some bigshot job in the daytime."

"Yes. He wasn't quite like the rest. We had a hard time finding someone to identify him for us, though."

"Yeah, `cause he had no close family, that's why," Jackie said. "Not so many friends, either. He had moved to the city not so long ago."

"Watkins sure knows how to pick them." Hudson was aware of the grim line his lips had set in, but the bitterness in his mouth didn't go away.

"Yes. He likes them beautiful. Like Angel."

Like Otis, Hudson thought but didn't say his name out loud. "Tell me about Angel."

"He's a bit like Stud, I mean being in it because he likes what he's doing," Jackie explained, oblivious to Hudson's dark thoughts.

"But he ran away. He must have learned something about your boss's business."

Jackie made a disgusted face. "I don't know how I'll manage to keep looking him in the eye and consider him the good man I thought he was."

"You have to play your part," Hudson reminded him.

"Yeah."

"About Angel. Tell me everything. Even a minor detail could help. If we find him before Watkins, we can get him on our side and bury those assholes."

"Well, it's not like I know a lot. Let me see. First of all, he's like a major weirdo. I mean, whenever he did some of the extreme stuff, he was really egging the guys on to do him harder."

Hudson didn't need any extra incentive to remember how Angel had abused Jasper on stage during the demonstration Watkins had insisted he watch. Cruelty seemed to run deep in the guy's bones, and it went both ways.

"Go on," he encouraged Jackie. "Remember. Every detail counts."

"Okay." Jackie seemed to focus. "Yeah, he was into strangling a lot. Vegas, man, what if--" he started and then began again. "What if he graduated like the rest? What if they strangled him until he died?"

"I don't think that's the case with Angel. Watkins is still looking for him, isn't he? That means that he's in hiding. Also, it might mean that the powers that be want him because he might be dangerous to their operation. Otherwise, why would getting him back matter so much?"

"Yeah, that sounds legit," Jackie agreed. "Maybe they threatened to keep him in that room." That simple phrase was followed by a snort.

"What room?"

Jackie blinked and stared at him as if he couldn't understand the question. "Ah, there was this thing I heard Angel say one time when he was in the boss's office. It sounded like a joke, one that they shared. Sorry, I meant it only the way he said it. It can't mean anything."

"Or it might mean a lot. Out with it."

Jackie pressed his fingers against his temples. "So, there was this one time when Angel was meeting with the boss, and I was around. And Angel kept making a fuss about wanting more money. The boss was getting a little pissed at him, but Angel is so damn wicked. He said something like `You're not going to put me in that room, are you? Just because you don't want to pay me more'. And he was laughing. And then, the boss said `Maybe we should put you in that room for a while, to teach you some manners'. Or something like that, I don't recall their words exactly."

"Any details about what they meant by `that room'?"

Jackie shook his head. "Not really. But then, Angel began whistling a song, and the boss laughed like it was such a good joke. I didn't get it, so I asked them why they were laughing. And the boss said something like `Angel here wants to see his old man and his farm'. I still don't get it."

Hudson pondered for a bit. "Is Angel from the country?"

Another shrug. "He could be, for all I know. He used to say that he only got born yesterday and only to be a star. What do you reckon, Vegas? Do you think he went back home?"

"Anything is possible. However, from what you're telling me, Watkins might know very well where Angel's old man and his farm are. It doesn't sound like such a great idea to me for him to hide there. And Watkins would have brought him back already if that had been the case."

"Yeah. Sorry I'm not more help."

"Is Angel involved with anyone?"

"Do you mean, like a boyfriend? No. He doesn't even have friends. Because he's a major prick," Jackie explained. "And he's so shifty. You can never really tell what he's thinking."

"He seemed troubled. That night, by the raid. Do you recall?"

"I wasn't paying that much attention to him. But now that you mention it..." Jackie took a few moments. "Yeah, he wasn't so full of himself anymore. I thought he got a bit rattled because of the cops ruining a night of making money for him. But that night was nothing special. Angel doesn't even work most nights. He's the boss's special pet."

"They must have had a falling out. Clearly, Watkins is none too pleased with Angel's disappearing act. Although he made it sound like it's not the first time his favorite model has pulled a prank like this on him."

"It's all shady as fuck," Jackie concluded for both of them.

Yes, it was. And hopefully, Jackie would be able to keep his wits about himself while they were working together. As much as it was an asshole thing to think, the fact that one of the victims had been Jackie's boyfriend or someone close to him at least helped the case.

Only that Hudson no longer knew how much the case counted when people were involved in such a manner. Of course, it counted, he corrected himself right away. Because it was the only way to make those assholes behind the murders pay.

***

Otis knew that it was, probably, a desperate move to stalk Hudson's coming back home instead of going to sleep, but after having received that message he had forgotten all about the importance of eight hours of sleep per night. Well, not entirely, only that he believed in exceptions to the rules. Tonight was one of them, and he would make use of it, too. The first on the order of things was to clear the air about any temptation to strangle his boyfriend. No violence was on his mind of any kind, and it appeared an essential aspect to talk about before Hudson got any strange ideas about their future interactions.

Curiosity, he had to admit, was nagging at him. What could have happened to detain Hudson so late into the night? A session with sexy models who couldn't be roused from their sleep before the fall of darkness? That was sort of poetic if he thought about it. Vampires and other denizens of the night made for excellent love interests in the romance genre, according to an article he had read online not so long ago. Was it possible that Hudson was attracted to that type? Creatures that enjoyed the darkest hour? Otis made a mental note to ask.

And it seemed like he wouldn't have to wait any longer, as the elevator door opened and Hudson walked out into the hallway. Otis had no idea why he was acting surprised when their eyes met. Hudson was the only one entitled to be feeling that particular emotion.

However, he changed his mind when Hudson, instead of greeting him and asking him what in the heavens he was doing out of his apartment at that hour, began looking about him, as if he were expecting Otis to be holding something hidden behind his back.

"Um," he started, a bit confused and lacking any strategy in regard to how their late-night conversation was supposed to go. "What are you looking for?"

Hudson offered him an apologetic smile. "Any sort of kitchen implement that could easily be turned into a weapon."

"What sort of kitchen implement would that be?" Otis asked, considering the question odd, but not in the least intending to act rudely by ignoring it when there were other, more ardent questions on the tip of his tongue.

"Anything you could use to bust my ass for missing our stew date."

"Was it a date? And why would I--" Otis turned serious. "I wouldn't use violence over a missed date. Which was dinner, not a date."

Hudson moved closer, invading his space and making him take a step back. "What would cause you to use violence?"

Another strange question. Otis pondered over it for a moment, and then he remembered the first reason why he had stayed awake, waiting for Hudson to arrive. "I do not use or condone violence," he said slowly. All the time, he kept his eyes on his boyfriend, ready to gauge any sign of misunderstanding.

"So, I'm off the hook then," Hudson said and brushed his hand through Otis's hair, leaving a tingling trail in the wake of his caress.

"You never were on the hook," Otis decided to clarify. "How intrusive would you find questions about the reasons behind your coming late?"

Hudson laughed softly and began pushing him slowly toward his apartment. "Can I still sleep at your place tonight?"

"The stew is cold. It can be consumed either hot, warm, or cold, but it's not as palatable. Our chef says so."

"Let's say that, while far be it from me to disrespect your talents as a cook, stew is not exactly the most important thing on my mind right now."

"What is?" Otis inquired.

They were now inside, and Hudson closed the door behind them without tearing his eyes away from him.

"This," Hudson declared with a deep sigh, one that sounded like weariness and a touch of regret. The action that followed contradicted that analysis, Otis believed, as he felt the now-familiar lips caressing his.

He angled his head, a little cautious and overly conscious of the mechanics of kissing, which only lately had been revealed to him. But that train of thought, the one he always kept on using like a personal version of Ariadne's thread, failed in front of that sensual attack. He would call it an attack because his defenses fell without resisting as soon as the deft tongue moved past his lips, triggering a series of pleasant yet delicate sensations all over his skin.

His body followed suit, moving as if it didn't need a brain and neural circuits to tell it what to do. He was pressing against Hudson as if he wanted to connect and touch every patch of available portion of himself, and his own tongue did a riposte, something that immediately triggered a short sound like laughter in his boyfriend.

"You're a tiger, aren't you?" Hudson cooed while moving his hands across Otis's back. "I should be careful since you obviously don't mind pouncing on me like this."

It was unclear, this bit about pouncing and other actions that would be performed by the aforementioned feline, but Otis enjoyed the comparison. Tigers were beautiful, graceful... deadly? The sudden realization made him pull away a bit so that he could take a good look at Hudson's face. Understanding the signs presented by how a person's face moved and reacted helped a great deal. Not seeing a lot of people for most of his childhood hadn't helped with this part of his development. The only cues he'd taken had been from his mom, and she hadn't been a reliable subject for learning about how to be human.

"Did you want to ask me something?" Hudson asked, looking puzzled and rightfully so.

Otis shook his head, and along with that came the memories that had kept him company lately when he least expected them to come. "Just this. Am I deadly?"

"Hmm," Hudson purred. "Is this because I called you tiger?"

"Yes." How wonderful it was that Hudson had understood that. Not many people would. Otis had learned over the years that it was essential to be apologetic and explain himself as much as needed.

"No, I don't think you're deadly at all. I won't call you that if you don't like it. Especially since you're more like a puppy yearning for his leash."

Otis snickered. "Oh that. That I like very much. And puppies aren't deadly."

"No, I don't believe they are," Hudson agreed. "But I still believe that you wanted to ask me something."

"Yes, definitely. And I already asked you--"

"Ask away."

Otis had expected some sort of irritation and evasion. Boyfriends, as a general rule, appeared to not enjoy being questioned endlessly about where they had been and the like. Such things made the other person seem controlling. It wasn't desirable to be that way.

"Do you like vampires?" he asked what he believed to be the least aggressive question on his list.

"No, not particularly. I've barely heard of Dracula."

"I see," Otis commented and nodded. "What about other creatures of the night?"

"Like werewolves?"

Otis hadn't really thought of them. "I mean, like people who like to be awake at night."

Hudson laughed and ruffled his hair for a moment. "Do you want to ask me why I was late tonight?"

"Yes," Otis admitted.

"If I told you it was because of work, would that be enough for you?"

"Yes."

Hudson smiled again and kissed him on the forehead. "I don't deserve you, Otis," he whispered against his skin, so breathily that the tingling was back.

"You don't have a secretary, so there's nothing for me to worry about. Why are you saying this?"

"Because of the kind of things you just said earlier. About vampires, and werewolves, and secretaries. If I make you mine, will you forgive me? Just take a moment to think. Don't say `yes' right off the bat."

It didn't matter if he took a moment, or ten, or none at all. "Yes," he answered with the same determination as before. "Did I say it too fast?"

"No, not at all," Hudson replied and pulled him close again.

To say that the stew was promptly forgotten would be an understatement. Otis was already too busy melting in Hudson's arms.

***

He took his time getting Otis out of his clothes. Despite the late hour and the grueling way he'd spent the evening, all traces of tiredness were gone from his bones. He moved only slightly away to pull the t-shirt over his head and then decided it was a good moment to apologize.

"I should take a shower first."

"Don't," Otis said, grabbing his wrist, his grip surprisingly strong for someone who looked as if he was eating only when he didn't forget food was actually a requirement for survival. "It's late and you can take a shower after anyway."

"After, huh?" Hudson nuzzled Otis's cheek, enjoying how it felt to have his short stubble brush against the other's flawless skin. His kisses made the plump lips redder, and the touch of skin on skin left redness in its wake. Those were his marks on his boyfriend. He loved making them. It was his prerogative, without a doubt. "And what do you mean by that?"

"You don't know?"

This was Otis, so the question was genuine, not coquettish teasing.

"Come here." He wrapped his arms around the slight body that trembled so prettily at the lightest of his touches. It had to do with how he was naked already, while Hudson still had his jeans on. "Let's do something," he proposed and helped Otis straddle him. While he continued to kiss him and tease him gently, Hudson moved his hands to cup the bare buttocks and spread them. Otis rewarded him by keening softly, and that was his cue.

It was so amazing and yet so natural to come home to a willing partner. The way Otis leaned into him filled him with tenderness. For only a moment, because the next, his beautiful and gentle boyfriend had brought one hand back, grabbing his manhood through his jeans.

"You want it?" he whispered, wanting to hear Otis say it.

"Your cock? Yes, I do."

"Get it ready to enter you and then use me as you see fit."

Otis nodded eagerly and moved so that he could take care of business. Hudson remained sitting on the edge of the bed, his heart filled with the same excitement as he'd felt during the first times having sex in his life. The focused look on the pretty face brought a smile to his lips, and some of his tension lifted. His shoulders were lighter. He could sit straighter. And when Otis straddled him again and their bodies began becoming one, Hudson realized that he was allowed these precious moments, and he could put everything else aside and just feel happy for a while.

It hurt, too, but in a pleasant, unbearable way. The source of the sensation came from somewhere in his solar plexus and it spread through the rest of him, warm and unstoppable. Otis's face twisted for a moment into a small grimace, but even that looked cute, because it was him doing it.

"When will I be able to feel you completely?"

The question took him by surprise. He moved his lips across Otis's neck, pressing down from time to time, only so that he could feel the other's shivering reverberating through him. "What do you mean?"

"Raw," Otis whispered.

Hudson smiled. "We'll have to work on that, right? Soon?"

"Soon sounds vague."

"And you're a man of hard facts, aren't you?"

"I try to be."

And didn't he love him for it? Hudson knew conversation had no place anymore between them, as Otis's scorching hot body engulfed him. His lovely neighbor was a fast learner, indeed. He was observant and focused, something that must have earned him the startled attention of people he had met along his path, but Hudson liked that about him.

Determined to do a good job, Otis was moving his hips slowly, then faster, with the same expression of keen concentration on his face.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" he felt the need to ask. His cock twitched as it was squeezed, tortured with delight, and brought closer and closer to the final act.

"It is," Otis sucked in a breath, "awfully pleasant."

"Awfully?"

"It's almost too much."

A bit of reason was needed maybe. But who cared about such things when he could simply turn the tables and take Otis from behind while staring at the arched back, the plump yet small buttocks and become trapped in the hypnotic rhythm of his cock moving in and out of that amazing body.

Otis threw a look at him over his shoulder, his lips wet and parted, his eyelids dropped, eyelashes fluttering. Hudson reached for him to cup his jaw and turn him more so that he could steal a kiss. Their mixed moans filled the room.

At the startled reaction when he reached between his lover's legs, he had to offer an explanation. "You first."

Otis nodded and let him, although his right hand remained wrapped around Hudson's wrist, moving to the same up and down pace. It didn't take his lover much to reach his peak, and Hudson smiled as he sensed his fingers getting wet with Otis's cum.

"You taste so good, baby," he whispered into the damp hair, making another soft, strangled moan rise from those cherry lips.

He kept Otis close as he increased his hammering. Such a light body, but still so strong. Hudson was not afraid he might break it by squeezing too tightly, moving too forcefully. The slap of flesh on flesh only heightened his desire. His right. His desire. His payment for the rest of his life.

Even as his cock began softening inside the other's body, he didn't move. He just wanted to continue to stay like this for as long as he could afford to.

"This definitely beats a stew date."

The straightforward remark pulled him back to reality. He laughed and pushed Otis away playfully. His lover snickered and turned, offering him the delicious sight of his sweaty face, gleaming eyes, and lips quirked in a gorgeous smile.

"Let's say you could be the lousiest cook in the universe, and it wouldn't matter."

Otis appeared to take offense at that by the way he pouted. "I'll have you know that my cooking so far proves to be above average."

Another tidbit. "Good to know. You're working on becoming marriage material, then?" Hudson joked.

"Marriage?" Otis's hair had fallen over the scarred eye again, so there was just one hypnotic blue orb fixed on him. "Yes, definitely."

TBC

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