Dating Rules and Pretty Fools Chapter 6

Dating Rules And Pretty Fools – Ch. 6

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 Six – A List of Things You're Not Allowed

The drink was odd but pleasant, and Otis had to do his damnest not to gulp it down. It wasn't nice to gulp down your drink or gobble down your food, his grandma had taught him, and now, he was in the company of interesting people, who knew a thing or two about how to drink alcohol the polite way. After moistening his lips in the pink drink for a moment and then licking them slowly, as he noticed Missy doing, he needed to find the best words to thank Utah for the treat.

"I am very much grateful," he said after he took another small sip from his glass. Something of how that cocktail was made caused him to giggle, and somehow, he believed that wouldn't be too nice.

"Do you come from one of those communities?" Utah asked him, leaning again over the bar, and looking him in the eye. "Where they churn butter all day and read the Bible?"

"I thought so, too, at first," Missy intervened. "But no, he's just one very polite guy," she explained.

"My grandmother raised me like this," Otis added, willing not to hide a thing from the people who wanted to know him better. "She taught me everything."

"Did she teach you how to dress, as well?" Utah asked with a smirk. "That explains a thing or two."

Missy scoffed. "Hey, man, don't be an ass. Otis is pretty sensitive about his looks."

He didn't feel insulted. "Yes, she taught me how to dress. She always said that a man should present himself as someone responsible, on whom people can count. And that his clothes must reflect that."

"Actually," Utah said, getting closer and resting his chin on one palm, "I like you like this a lot. I could use a responsible man, on whom I can count." For some reason, he mimicked his words with a large smile, as if they were a cause for amusement.

There was so much for him to learn, Otis decided, and this outing in the real world was a bit scary, but also exciting and filled with opportunities. Also, he was abiding by Hudson's advice not to date until he knew everything there was to know about finding a proper boyfriend.

Utah startled him by gently touching his cheek, his long fingers so smooth and pleasant against his skin, just like the drink he was having. He didn't pull away, however, and stared with renewed curiosity at the bartender. "Damn, you're really pretty," Utah said slowly. "Do you have a phone number?"

"Yes, I do," Otis replied firmly. Everyone had a phone these days and a phone number to come with it. That was a strange question.

"Utah!" someone called from his right, making the bartender straighten up and his smile to fade.

That same someone slammed one hand on the bar in front of Otis, startling him further. He looked up and found himself face to face with a young man with spiky pink hair and an eyebrow piercing. His eyes were heavily lined with black, as were his lips. "Who's this weirdo?" he asked, pushing himself into Otis's face, making him lean back, which was hard on that kind of stool.

"Babe, quit it," Utah said and pulled the strange young man away. He didn't have all that upper body strength for nothing because it seemed easy for him to drag the newcomer halfway across the bar between them and then kiss him hard on the lips.

Otis felt funny looking at them, so he moved his eyes away. Missy leaned toward him. "Uh, I think our Utah here's a bit of a player. Watch out for his kind, Otis. It looks like he has a boyfriend."

Of course. That explained the kiss. They were boyfriends and boyfriends kissed, although he and Hudson kissed, too, and they weren't that. However, it was perfectly explainable in their case, too, since Hudson was teaching him about dating men. Between seeing two men kissing each other so freely and remembering about his neighbor's firm lips on his, he was starting to feel a bit funny. It was a pleasant sensation in the pit of his stomach, but also a bit too ticklish. He didn't know if he'd start laughing or get really queasy.

Utah finally let go of his boyfriend, and the heavily made-up face turned toward him once more. "Beat it, fugly," he said from the tip of his lips.

Otis recoiled at the word. He didn't know many things, but he knew when he was called that, regardless of the variations of it. Heat rose to his cheeks and his right hand began trembling. He needed to get away from there. That very moment, just as he was about to bolt, Missy reached out for him and wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Hey, who are you calling that, drama queen?" she yelled at the bartender's boyfriend. Then, she turned toward him. "He's obviously jelly as fuck."

"Am not," the guy replied, putting his hands on his hips. "This little hussy's obviously a homewrecker."

That wasn't fair. He had never wrecked anything... except a few cups and plates when he was still struggling with coordination issues. He put his hands between his knees and hunched his shoulders. He couldn't run while Missy was still holding him like that. There was warmth coming from her and it took the edge off what he was feeling inside.

The bartender laughed. "Don't mind Danny, Otis. He is jelly."

He didn't dare to look up, but maybe he needed to, because everyone else fell silent, and they were probably expecting him to talk. "It is fine," he said slowly, not knowing if it were the right thing to say under the circumstances.

"Of course, I'm jealous," Danny said with a huff, crossing his arms over his chest. "You're the one flirting with every new cute face in the house."

"That's because you just assumed we were in an open relationship without asking first," Utah said. Otis looked at him only to notice the playful smirk on his lips. How could he be so laidback given all the drama unfolding? "Payback's a bitch, darling."

Danny huffed and turned his back at Utah. He did look over his shoulder, though. "I changed my mind."

The bartender seemed unimpressed with that statement. However, his smirk turned into an affectionate smile as he grabbed Danny by the shoulder and squeezed. "What's your poison tonight?"

Otis was curious about the way that strange relationship unfolded in front of his eyes, but he didn't have time even to hear Danny's answer because someone embraced him from behind, hiking him up the chair and out of Missy's hold. He was about to put up a fight when Jackie said into his ear, "How about a little dance, Otis?"

He disentangled himself from the stool with some difficulty while Jackie helped him on his feet. His hand was grabbed quickly and Jackie began pulling him toward the dance floor. "You, straight girl," he yelled, "come along! Let's get wild!"

Missy downed her drink in one go and followed, with a huge grin on her face. Otis suspected that she loved dancing very much.

"Has Utah treated you right?" Jackie yelled at him, although the music wasn't that loud. Maybe Jackie just liked being loud.

"He gave me a pretty drink," Otis replied dutifully. The music had changed to a rhythmic beat, and now the dance floor was no longer bare.

Jackie pushed him so that they could face each other and began moving to the pace of the music with what Otis observed with growing envy. He was a good dancer, indeed. And he seemed like a fun person, because he smiled and talked a lot. By his side, Missy was doing her own kind of dance, and she seemed to be a pretty good dancer, too. Jackie turned toward her and they both began making a strange duet, jerking their bodies left and right, always with one shoulder forward as their dance partner moved the opposite back.

They were having fun, and Otis felt the room tilting for a moment, just a smidge. He was also warm all over, and his heart was starting to beat in synch with the music.

***

Hudson would have liked to question Jackie for a bit, but it looked like the loyal servant was anything but that. He said that he'd been twenty-four when doing that kind of work as Jasper was doing, which meant that he was over twenty-five now, at least. However, he looked younger than that, and Hudson had his doubts that Jackie was saying the truth about anything. Still, he seemed to be a bit of an airhead and someone who bragged a great deal, so maybe he had a few truths about the place he could reveal, whether he wanted or not.

It worked for him to be left alone with the `models', whatever that work entailed. The room he found himself in was dressed in red, just like the hallway, and there was a small raised dais in the middle of it, appointed with a stripping pole.

The curtains behind the dais shifted for a moment, and then he heard some muffled talking emerging from there. "Hey," he called out loud, "anybody home?"

The curtains parted and a young man stepped on the dais. He was completely naked, but that wasn't the part the made Hudson raise an eyebrow in question. There were red welts on his abdomen, crisscrossing it, and they looked pretty fresh.

"You the photographer?" he asked, one hand on his hip. He had a dark cruel smile on his face and that made a terrible contrast with what seemed to be his young age.

"What's your name?" Hudson asked while taking in the slender body, the short blond hair and the blue eyes that were trying to pin him down with a cold stare.

A roll of the eyes, and then the cruel smirk was back. "Call me Angel."

Hudson shrugged and took out his phone. That would have to do for lack of better equipment. Watkins had left instructions for him to send the pics over once he was done.

"Hey, what are you doing?" Angel scolded him. "Aren't you supposed to be artistic and shit?" He marched back behind the curtains and came out with a box, which he dropped in front of Hudson. "For the record, I'm really flexible, so get to work already."

The contents of the box shouldn't have surprised him. He picked a long rope and stared for a moment at that young man, who might have looked like an angel some time ago, but now appeared to be more of the fallen kind. It appeared that his choice was appreciated, and a slender arm pointed at the ceiling. A system of pulleys hanged from there and Hudson wondered if he were supposed to prove some particular skills in getting the rope around it. Angel snorted, too astute for his own good, and knelt to the floor, where he fiddled with something on the side. The system began descending, and Hudson wasted no more time. To show that he knew how to be in charge, he pushed Angel on his back and then turned him. He had readied himself for something of the like, so his moves were precise as he pushed and pulled the rope around the slender members until the attractive body was stretched to impossible angles. "Too tight?" he asked in a voice rough enough to let the other know that he really didn't care to know, or worse, that he'd be pleased to hear the confirmation only to deny any demand for mercy.

Angel was the wrong name for the young man. Hudson didn't withered under the disdainful glance his charge threw over one shoulder. "This isn't my first rodeo, outlander," he said with the same sardonic smirk from before.

"Outlander? Really? You should get more creative with your insults." Hudson linked the ends of the rope with the pulley and let his hands wander over the entire setup, Angel included, to check for any safety hazards.

"It's what you are," the young man said and blinked lazily. "And didn't I tell you? I'm an angel."

Hudson searched the button himself and watched as Angel was being hiked up into the air. Then, he reached for his phone. "Say cheese," he said as he raised his arm.

Even the way he laughed made Angel sound like a cynical bastard. "Screw you. I'd rather play dead."

Hudson felt the now familiar snake coiling tightly in his gut. And Angel made faces at him from above, sticking his tongue out and letting it loll to the side, while his eyes rolled in his head. Then, he suddenly flashed a knowing look at him. "Fuck me, you should see your face."

Hudson frowned. "Good thing you're pretty. `Cause you have one shitty personality, man."

"Thank you," came the bright reply.

"Now, show me you're here to actually sell something, not goof around." His pointed jab reached the mark, because Angel's face suddenly turned serious. "I thought so. Now let me do my job."

***

Someone bumped into him from behind, and Otis turned to see a man in his thirties flashing a smile at him. "New here?" he yelled to cover the noise.

Otis didn't have the time to reply because Jackie slung one arm over his shoulder and pulled him back. "Hey, this guy," he said pointing at him but talking to the stranger, "doesn't go on dates."

The stranger seemed undaunted. He leaned forward to touch Otis, but Jackie was quick to pull him back even more. "Who says anything about dating?"

"Take a hint, man. If he's going to hook up with someone tonight, that lucky asshole's gonna be me."

"Possessive much?" the stranger said with a smirk, but it didn't look like he wanted to continue that conversation.

Otis stared after him for a bit and then turned toward Jackie, who was looking at him from up close. "I don't hook up," he said primly.

Jackie grinned, making his face look even more like a boy's. "I thought so. That means I still have a chance, right?"

Otis didn't know what to say. Jackie was nice, but to hook up with him... meant doing that kind of thing, and he was pretty sure that Hudson wouldn't agree and just shake his head at him, disappointed.

"I need to check on something for a bit," Jackie said and patted his shoulders. "I'll take you and Missy back to the bar so that Utah can keep his eyes on you."

"Do we need someone to do that?" Otis inquired politely. The club was packed by now, and Utah seemed to be over his head by what he could tell even from a distance.

"Someone might want to steal you," Jackie said promptly. "And you're here with me. I can't allow that."

Otis laughed. He wasn't an object to be stolen. "People get kidnapped, not stolen," he explained, when he realized that Jackie didn't get what his source of amusement seemed to be.

"Ah," Jackie said and his eyes grew big. "You like to name things how they are, don't you, Otis? Damn, just another thing to like about you. Anyway, let's get you back to the bar. I promise I'll be quick."

***

Hudson pointed at the welts on Angel's abdomen. Their little session was over, and it appeared that it was just one model for him to take pictures of, for the time being. That was his ticket in, or not. Sink or swim. "How did those get there?"

Angel touched his skin slowly, caressing each red line and looking down. "I like it rough. Don't tell me that comes as some big surprise to you?"

"Is that why you're here? To get your rocks off?" Hudson asked and used his phone to send Watkins the pics. Soon, he'd know if he just got himself hired into this shady place.

"Among other things." Angel rolled on his back on the dais and rubbed his arms to get the blood flowing back. "The pay's good, too."

"And? What's next?"

"What do you mean?"

"After you graduate," Hudson said.

"Graduate? Ah, you've been talking to that twit Jackie. He doesn't know shit about what's going on here." Angel put on an expression of superiority, and Hudson felt tempted to learn more.

"I don't know. He seemed to know what he was talking about," he said with a shrug.

Angel rolled again on one side and stared at him. It was strange not to even think that there was a naked attractive body so close to him. He didn't think of the young man that way, and wasn't that wrong of him? At what point had he stopped thinking of them as real people, and started seeing them as nothing but pawns on a chess board?

Or maybe there was something else. A part of him felt repulsed by what these young men were doing with their bodies. It wasn't the fact that they were selling themselves, or that some of them truly were into hardcore sexual practices. It was something fetid in the air, something he was probably only imagining, but his gut told him that it was there. If this lead proved not to be the one for the human trafficking ring, he'd be surprised. In his career so far, he didn't recall ever being surprised more than once or twice.

The door opened brusquely and Jackie made his entrance, his gait cocksure and his playful smirk directed at Angel. "Hey, babe," he drawled. "How's it hanging?" And then, to him. "Mr. Vegas, do you still need time with our top earner?"

Angel ignored him and pushed himself up, only to disappear behind the curtain without a word.

Jackie seemed completely unbothered about having been flipped like that. "These celebrities, right?" he said and shrugged. "I think he's still pissed I haven't taken him out to that new French restaurant, what's it called?" He snapped his fingers and looked at Hudson for help.

"I'm done here," Hudson said shortly.

"Okay, okay, then I'll escort you out. And I hope Mr. Watkins will hire you. It's always nice to have new faces around."

"Is that right?" Hudson asked with a crooked smile.

Jackie seemed completely oblivious at his lack of enthusiasm. "Yeah, I mean, it's exciting to see how business is made and all that. I want to put some money aside and start a thing of my own. Maybe not like that," he pointed vaguely at the system of pulleys from which the rope still hanged. "I'd do some really crazy vanilla shit. I mean, like with a bit of spice, a little bit of romance," he said, moving his hips as if he was dancing. "I'm telling you, in a couple of years, all this extreme stuff is going to be totally boring. And then, what will people want?" He opened his arms wide. "They'll want the vanilla stuff. `Cause that's how the wheel's turning."

Hudson just nodded. He doubted Jackie was looking for business advice, seeing how he appeared to have everything figured out, as far as his future endeavors would look like.

Jackie was about to add something, when his phone pinged. He looked at it with a serious look on his face and then offered Hudson a strained smile. "Hey, man, I'm just going to take you out to the club in front, and then I gotta dash. Some late night errand. What can you do, right?"

"No problem, man. I can find my way. You can go."

Jackie rubbed his neck for a moment. "I'll still take you out front. House rules."

That was understandable. No matter how much of an airhead Jackie appeared to be, he had a few rules drilled into him. So, exploring the dark side of Twinlight wouldn't happen tonight. For now, Hudson believed he had some leads.

***

He moved through the throng of people, wondering again how they could be so oblivious to what kind of entertainment was offered in the back. But that only went to prove how tight the plan of those behind it was; they put on a hip front that seemed to be all above board, as Jackie would say, while they did their shady stuff behind it.

Since he was there, he could still do some reckoning to figure out the people that would act as liaisons between the front and the back. And the best person to ask was, of course, the man tending the bar.

Hudson offered pleasant smiles as he rubbed unwittingly against body after body and felt a few hands wandering across his back and ass. He could tell at least one guy must have slipped a note in one of his back pockets, most probably containing a phone number. If this were a regular night out, he'd be having a lot of fun within less than an hour.

He was working. And no one around did it for him anyway. They seemed to him a blur of faces, which he examined in search for clues to help him. He didn't categorize them as attractive, or as blonds or brunets, or tall or short, and so on. Their smiles glided over him, without letting one trace behind.

He pushed himself toward the bar and suddenly, stopped dead in his tracks. He recognized that hair, that prim scrubbed shirt, and that rigid posture, even though he hadn't had the time to examine their owner as much at length as he would have wanted. Hudson felt his teeth grinding. What the hell was he doing here, out of all places in the world?

He forgot all about questioning the bartender or striking a friendship with him for the sake of information. His priorities were suffering an incredible metamorphose as he put one heavy hand on Otis's shoulder.

"I can't date, I can't hook up," Otis announced as he turned in his seat.

"Good to hear," Hudson said abruptly and grabbed his arm. "Let's go."

"Hudson? What are you doing here?" Otis asked, obviously surprised to see him.

"That should be my line. Come on, move your sexy butt."

Otis followed him without commenting. Hudson wrapped his hand around the slender fingers, holding them tightly. The only thing on his mind was how to extract Otis out of that place, and fast.

"Wait. I should tell my friends that I'm leaving," Otis said suddenly, when they were almost at the front door.

"Tell them later," Hudson ordered, and it looked like Otis knew how to read the room, after all.

***

Otis blinked as the fresh night air hit him in the face. How auspicious to meet Hudson there, at the club. He had been thinking about him, and what he would think of Otis's outing. After all, one goal of their sessions on dating rules and whatnot, was to cure him of shyness. He was very happy that Hudson was there and he could ask him directly what he thought. And that meant that he had to communicate that right away.

"I am very glad to see you, sir," he said, as he recalled that he needed to be polite toward his teacher.

"Are you an actor?" Hudson asked as he opened the door to a sleek black car and held it for him to get in.

"No, I wait on customers at tables. And dogs." Otis giggled. "I mean, I'm not waiting on dogs, although it would be so funny to have a tiny restaurant for dogs, where they sit at tables, with tablecloth around their necks and all."

Hudson seemed unimpressed with his little joke. That was something else for him to work on. He wasn't funny, and people liked funny people. He waited patiently for his neighbor to get behind the wheel. The ticklish sensation in his stomach caused by all the evening's excitement turned into a sinking one as Hudson put the engine into gear too fast.

"Wait, the safety belt," he said and Hudson brought the car to a halt.

Otis held in a breath as Hudson hovered and secured the seatbelt across his torso, and then proceeded to do the same for himself. "Safety first. That is very important."

Hudson huffed. "Ain't that right? Now, speak. What were you doing there tonight?"

"I went out with friends to waltz. Wait, that isn't right." Otis felt the heady sensations caused by the alcohol from the two cocktails he had had on Utah's tab, as the man had insisted, coming back to him, since inside the car was not as cold as outside. "We went out to dance."

"And what friends are these?" Hudson questioned him.

"Missy, from work, the one with the big red hair. And a new friend. Jackie," Otis replied dutifully.

Hudson stopped the car at the red light so abruptly Otis leaned over.

"You don't appear to be a very good driver," Otis felt the need to point out. "Wait," he said, realizing with growing terror what was going on. "You were at the bar too! You were drinking! We're drinking and driving!" He needed to get out. That was how people ended up in bad accidents. He also needed to convince Hudson to abandon the car that very moment.

Hudson caught his hand just as he was about to go for the keys. "What do you think you're doing? I'm not drunk."

"It doesn't matter," Otis insisted. "Even a drop of alcohol can affect your ability to react under dire circumstances."

Someone was honking at them from behind.

"I haven't drunken a drop," Hudson assured him. "But you did. We need to have a serious conversation, young man."

Oh, no. That was the kind of thing his grandma used to say when he did something bad, and there was a lesson to be learned. It could be painful, in his experience, as he felt ashamed to disappoint his grandma. And now, by drinking, he seemed to have disappointed Hudson, too.

He leaned back into his seat, his hands in his lap, waiting to be lectured. Grandma was always kind, even when teaching him about things he didn't know, but what if Hudson started yelling at him? What was he going to do then? He could only hope that he had the willpower to go through it all.

To his surprise, Hudson didn't continue up the street in front of them and just pulled the car in a small parking lot, away from the main road.

One good way to prevent feeling too bad about what would follow was to admit to his mistakes first. The lecture would still hurt him, for sure, but it was for his own good. Grandma was always so sad that he thought every lesson to be painful, but it wasn't that, and he couldn't explain it well. That had to be from before he had been with grandma, and those were some dark times, as she had used to call them. A bad habit. His inability to deal with almost anything he didn't know already.

"I drank two cocktails, and it was wrong," he said quickly. "I'm sorry." Hudson sighed and turned toward him. Otis didn't dare to look up, still busy with watching his hands. "I must have known I'm not allowed to do that." What he said made no sense, and his grandma had tried in vain to make him understand that, but it was the only thing he knew that would make the accusations that followed less hurtful. Not that grandma ever accused him of anything.

"I suppose I should put together a list with all the things you're not allowed," Hudson said.

Otis looked up. A list would make things so simple. He wouldn't have to worry about breaking any rule if he knew them all.

Hudson was smiling. Then, he frowned slightly. "How does this Jackie look like?"

Otis explained, relieved that he was given an easy way out, after all. But the frown on Hudson's face was only growing deeper, making his handsome face look scary. He made himself little in his seat.

"Hey, what's with you?" Hudson asked.

"Tell me what I did wrong," Otis mumbled.

Hudson let out another sigh, but then, he was close and caressing his face. "I'm not scolding you, Otis. But you better stay away from Jackie and that place, okay?"

Otis nodded. Was that all? Jackie was sort of wild, talking about hooking up and all sorts of things, and probably Hudson, who was so well versed in the ways of the world, knew that.

"You're not going to ask me `why'," Hudson said matter-of-factly.

"No. You know better," Otis said, convinced that had to be the truth.

Hudson leaned his head back and seemed lost in thought for a moment. "This thing you do," he said quietly, "how you put yourself in my hands like this."

"Yes?" Otis barely managed, his throat dry. He could see himself in Hudson's hands, allowing him to do everything he wanted.

"Don't do it with anyone else. Do you understand? It's very important."

"Yes, I do. You only." Hudson seemed a lot easier to please than his mom had used to be.

"Okay. Now, come here. I didn't mean to scare you with my bad driving."

Otis had to unlock the seatbelt and move and put his head on Hudson's shoulder. He was soon wrapped in a warm embrace and he could tell Hudson was kissing the crown of his head.

"But I'm still putting together that list. You're not off the hook."

"I won't drink again," Otis promised hurriedly.

Hudson laughed. "Maybe you could. As long as I'm watching over you."

"Do you think I could be one of those people who get very violent when drinking?"

"That's not my worry."

"You... worry? About me?"

"Yes. I thought it would be obvious." Another small kiss on the head followed. "I just think that you would be easy to take advantage of when you're drinking."

"How does that work? Who would take advantage and how?"

"Bad people, and as for how..." Hudson fell quiet for a moment. "You really don't see how beautiful you are, do you?"

That word again, making him warm and fuzzy all over. Otis put one arm around Hudson, enjoying how solid his strong body felt. That moment, as he wanted to kiss his handsome neighbor again, his phone went off.

Hudson took it from him. "It's your friend from work. Is it all right if I send a text saying you got a tummy ache?"

Otis just nodded and took the phone back. And then, he forgot about everything else as Hudson kissed him.

TBC

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