Dating Rules And Pretty Fools – Ch. 8
By Laura S. Fox
Copyright © 2023 Laura S. Fox
All Rights Reserved
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.
Consider making a donation to Nifty by clicking the little blue button
on the front page, as they help us all enjoy so many great stories, while
aiding authors like me to display their work.
Chapter Eight – Trust
There was a phone call
for him. Of course, there was. Hudson let it ring a few times before answering.
"Mr. Watkins," he said brightly, "I wasn't expecting a call so soon." That was
the exact opposite of what he had been thinking, seeing how a certain state of
impatience had begun to take its toll on him. As an investigator, he knew very
well that things took time and that waiting was par for the course, and yet,
over the last couple of days, he had experienced a restlessness, the kind of
thing that rarely happened to him.
It had to do with
avoiding Otis, maybe. The young man followed very strict routines, so staying
clear of his path had been easy. That didn't mean that Hudson had thought about
him any less often.
He needed his head in the
game. Maybe all this avoidance wasn't the right strategy to follow. And now, he
needed his wits about him more than ever.
Watkins's harsh voice
came through with crisp clarity. "You did fine work, Mr. Vegas. We'd like to
hire you. How about you drop by? Later tonight? At eleven?"
One stroke away from
midnight. Hudson felt his mood lifting; finally, there was something for him to
do other than search the police database to match Jasper's and Angel's faces
with missing people. How some individuals could appear as if they had no roots
whatsoever, just floating in the wind. Maybe they thought it liberating, not
dangerous, as Hudson saw it. He, more than others, knew the importance of
roots.
"I'll be there. Should I
bring my camera?"
"Of course. The tools of
the trade make the man," Watkins commented.
Cruelty flowed out of
every word that man spoke. Hudson liked to believe that he didn't allow his
personal dislike to get in the way of judging a person or a situation fairly,
but there was something about Watkins that made his lizard brain flare up as if
faced with an imminent threat.
***
This time around, the
bouncer at the main entrance gestured for him to go through the back, which
could only mean that he had been upgraded in his standing with the boss. All in
all, it appeared that he was on a good path to getting the job. He didn't
expect Watkins to put him right in the middle of it all, but he was willing to
work his way up, rung after rung. Or was it more like descending into darkness?
The thought occurred to
him as his guide for the night – not Jackie this time, but a sullen fellow with
a shiny shaved head and a suit that should have been made to order to present
itself well on that gorilla body – took him to what appeared to be the
basement.
Behind the last door, no
dungeon-like setting welcomed him, as he half-expected. The large room looked
like a small cozy club, complete with a bar, plush sofas and a small dais,
meant, without a doubt, for the performers.
"Mr. Vegas." Watkins
walked toward him, seemingly emerging from a dark corner as if he had just
materialized into being. "I'm glad you could make it."
"I wouldn't miss this
opportunity for the world," Hudson said as he put on his most plastic smile and
shook the man's bony hand vigorously. "What did you think of the pictures?"
"I'm very pleased. You do
have the eye, Mr. Vegas." Watkins patted his cheek right under his left eye and
smiled, the same cold sneer that never reached further than his lips.
"Great. Does this mean
that I can get to work?" Hudson rubbed his hands and looked around.
"Eager. I like it."
Watkins snapped his fingers and the gorilla character rushed forward, waiting
for an order. "Bring the boys."
The shaved head nodded
shortly and disappeared behind the raised dais.
"I hope you don't mind a
little bit of, let's say, directing on my part," Watkins said.
Hudson didn't have the
time to reply as the gorilla pushed Jasper and Angel forward, throwing them
down on the floor. Angel grinned and stuck out his tongue, seemingly used to
rough treatment, but Jasper had a wild look on his face. Hudson quirked an
eyebrow and gave Watkins a questioning look, while his pulse quickened.
This time around, they
hadn't searched him, and he had counted on that. And even if they did, they
wouldn't necessarily think that he would make an appearance there with a
concealed weapon.
"Let's see you at work,
Mr. Vegas."
Hudson turned and opened
the camera case. He only had to sneak one hand under the front layer and reach
for his gun if needed.
***
For two evenings in a
row, Jackie hadn't come to the restaurant to dine as was his habit, which made
Otis believe that maybe he had seen the last of him when they'd hung out at Twinlight that fateful night. He liked to think of it all
in terms such as `a fateful night', although it had still been evening at the
time and not full night yet, and `fateful' was a bit of a suspicious word since
it implied the role of unseen forces in people's lives. Grandma had told him so
many times that he was in control of his own fate and that he should not let
anyone tell him otherwise. Such speeches that she had used to give him were
empowering; that was also something she had told him on many occasions.
In the meantime, Otis
hadn't seen Hudson, either, not even by accident, and that made him feel a bit
unsettled. He got anxious for no reason, and on one occasion, he had dropped a
plate. Things couldn't go on like this. At this rate, he might end up breaking
something. All he had to do was take a deep breath and knock on his neighbor's
door. Good things always came to people who dare.
"Someone wants to see
you," Missy chanted in his direction and smiled while peeking around the
corner.
Was Hudson there? But no,
he caught himself in time, Hudson didn't know where he worked.
"Who?" he asked and
grabbed the menu to present it to the customer. It was almost closing time.
"It's Jackie, and he
totally looks like a kicked puppy. Don't fall for his act, though," Missy
warned, wagging a finger. "I have a feeling that boy is a total player."
Jackie wasn't a puppy. He
was a tomcat, although Hudson thought he was a rat. Otis hurried out with the
menu in his hands.
As he expected, Jackie
was at his usual table. His face lit up when he saw Otis and stood from his
seat like gentlemen did in front of a lady. "Otis, how you've been, man? Damn,
you disappeared on me that night."
"I didn't disappear,"
Otis argued. "First of all, good evening."
"Right, right, you're a
stickler for good manners. Good evening," Jackie replied with a big smile. "You
know, Utah almost got me, telling me that you left with some dude with big
guns."
Big guns. How could Utah
know about those tattoos? As far as he remembered, Hudson had a t-shirt on, so
it was impossible to see them. Otis felt a short stab of jealousy as his mind conjured
up images of the bartender tracing his long fingers over Hudson's gun tattoos.
He shook his head. What an irrational thought. There had to be another
explanation.
"I had a stomachache," he
said and blushed as he was not particularly good at lying. But that had been
what Hudson had used that night as an excuse for him, so he needed to stick to it
or, otherwise, he'd make his neighbor sound like a liar.
"Anyway," Jackie said and
stretched his arms out in front of him, "my boss has been riding my ass for the
last couple of days. He wanted me to move so much cargo. I think he's going to
open a new place, and, who knows? He might put me in charge of it." He grinned
and wiggled his eyebrows.
Otis didn't exactly know
what Jackie meant by that kind of facial gymnastics. "That sounds like a good
thing," he offered politely.
"Anyway, I'm starving.
And I have the evening free of any chores, so how about we hang out later? Just
you and me," Jackie said and took his seat.
Otis handed him the menu.
Hudson had warned him about Jackie, and he knew what he was doing. That meant
that he had to reject the offer but do so in a way that didn't hurt the other's
feelings. "I apologize but I cannot honor your request."
Jackie's face fell. "Why
not? It looks to me like I'm your last client."
"It's because of my
lessons."
"Lessons? At this hour?
What kind of lessons?"
That was a secret Otis
wanted to keep to himself. "They're online. But I need to be at the computer
the same hour every day." It looked like he was getting the hang of this lying
thing. Still, he needed to be careful; one bad habit could drag along another
and another until he would become a bad person.
"Okay," Jackie murmured,
and he looked unconvinced, because, most probably, Otis wasn't that good at
lying and it showed. "And I so wanted to spend my night off with you." He
winked at him and grinned again.
According to Missy,
Jackie was interested in him. That made Otis feel guilty, which meant that it
would be a good idea to let him down gently but firmly. "For the moment, I
cannot engage in any hooking up activities," he explained. "I'm not ready."
At first, Jackie gave him
a surprised look, his round boyish eyes looking large and pretty as he did so.
Then, he laughed wholeheartedly. "Who says you're not ready?" He leaned forward
and smiled.
"Hud—I mean, I'm simply
not ready and I know it."
"Then how about becoming
friends?" Jackie offered. "And if we go from that to the other that," he added
with a small shrug, "no one's gonna judge, right?"
No, he couldn't even be
friends with Jackie as long as Hudson believed he was a rat. But how had Hudson
reached that conclusion? Did he know Jackie? Otis couldn't believe that he
hadn't thought of asking that. Could it be that Hudson only knew people like
Jackie? That wasn't fair, though. Otis liked to believe that Jackie wasn't a
bad person, even though he talked so easily about hooking up. Maybe he and
Hudson needed to meet and get to know each other.
"We could be friends," he
eventually said. He couldn't imagine one reason, even a fake one, for which
someone would be able to say `no' to friendship.
"Okay, that sounds good."
Jackie smacked his palms together to show his satisfaction. "Now, please, feed
me before I waste away."
"What would you like
tonight?"
"The usual. You know,
between you and me," Jackie said and leaned over the table to look at Otis from
below, "I wouldn't normally be caught dead eating in a place like this, but the
food here is to die for. Just like the staff."
Otis blushed and clasped
the menu tightly, pressing it against his chest. Jackie really had a way with
words. He was also pretty, and Otis wanted to pet his greasy head. Or maybe
just his forehead.
Jackie continued to
babble on. "I mean, I make enough to go to all the fancy places in this city.
But nothing compares to the food you guys make here."
"I don't make it. The
cook--"
"I know. You're good
people here, Otis," Jackie said.
It was a real compliment.
A very touching one. Otis smiled and made a little bow. "I'll come back with
your order at the soonest."
They were good people
here, he thought. Mr. Smith, who was a bit stern when they were wasting time
and lingering too long on breaks, was a kind man. And Missy was a friend, and
the cook and the other servers were all a good fit for the place. Grandma would
have liked to have a meal now and then here. Although her cooking was
unrivaled.
He brushed a small tear
away as he went back to the kitchen.
***
Hudson was surely at
home, probably still working with those young men visiting, but Otis felt like
he couldn't wait any longer. He had repeated the words he intended to use as an
introduction over and over, hoping that Hudson hadn't already forgotten that he
had a pupil. With so many attractive men stopping by his couch, the chances
were pretty high for him to fail to remember their little agreement.
Otis wiped his hands
against his pants as he felt they were clammy and unpleasant. So far, he had
behaved properly in front of his neighbor, but today, most probably due to his
high anxiety, he believed that he needed to make a good impression without
coming across as too demanding and pushy. How many times hadn't his mom pushed
him away when he was trying to get her attention? He needed to remember that
other people had lives. On the other hand, grandma kept on telling him that it
was all right to ask for things as long as he was polite and understanding of
other people's limitations and needs. No matter how many times she had told him
that the same didn't apply to her and that he could wake her in the middle of
the night if he needed something, he hadn't managed to change that habit.
He had spied enough by
listening from behind his door to know that Hudson had to be alone, unless he
was grossly miscalculating. As his grandma would say, the only way to find out
was to knock. He knocked two times, short and hard, and then one more time. If
Hudson didn't come to the door in about half a minute, that could only mean
that he was busy and didn't want to be disturbed. Otis looked at his phone,
counting the seconds.
"Thirty," he said under
his breath and quickly turned on his heel, relieved for the moment.
The door to 505 opened
when he was half-way to his apartment. "Otis," Hudson called from behind him.
"Did you knock?"
"I did," he said
brightly. "But if you're busy--"
"I'm not. Come on in."
His relief had been
short-lived, after all. He dragged his feet until he realized that maybe that
looked weird and tried to remember what he wanted to ask before chickening out.
Hudson waited patiently
for him and closed the door once he was inside. "I believe you know the way,"
he joked.
Otis knew, of course. He
sat on the couch without being invited and then remembered that it was impolite
to do so without hearing from the host that it was all right to take a seat.
Hudson smiled warmly at him and squeezed his shoulder as he sat by his side,
unlike before.
Nighttime dream memories
flooded Otis as he looked Hudson in the eye. He was so attractive from up
close, with his square manly jaw and short stubble, firm lips and kind eyes.
Otis wanted to touch him so much he ached somewhere inside, but he knew that he
needed to ask for permission first.
"Well?" Hudson asked, his
smile broadening. He was turned toward Otis, one leg folded under the other,
and he was resting his head against his palm, while his elbow was propped on the
back of the couch. "You wanted to see me?"
"Yes," Otis said softly.
Hudson continued to stare
at him, and he continued to smile as if everything was normal. Only it wasn't,
because Otis knew that he needed to start talking already before things became
very awkward.
"I wanted," he started
and swallowed a lump in his throat, "to ask you about..." He racked his brain for
what he wanted to ask and couldn't remember.
***
It was all for the better
that his cute neighbor had decided to pay him a visit. This way, the decision
was out of his hands and, while he hated to consider himself a coward, when it
came to the wonderful young man now sitting on his couch, lost in thought, he
found himself more helpless than in life-or-death situations he had encountered
before.
"Did you forget?" he
asked softly and reached for Otis's cheek to caress it. "It's all right. I'm
sure it will come back to you."
"I didn't forget," Otis
argued. And then, brightly, "It's about the list!"
"The list?" Hudson wasn't
so good at processing thoughts while he was getting lost in admiring this
strange beautiful boy next door.
"The list you told me
about," Otis continued, now in better spirits. "The list of things I'm not
allowed."
After his working gig at
the club the other night, seeing Otis, with his innocent manners and calm
serene eye looking at him in wonder, was just what he needed to make him forget.
A stiff drink hadn't done it for him. Maybe he needed to treat his malaise with
something else.
So, he said the first
inane thing that came to his mind. "The first on the list is that you're not
allowed to talk anymore."
Otis didn't protest in
the least when Hudson covered his mouth with his and began kissing him slowly.
There was so much life in that kiss, real life, not the kind lived in the
shadows. Watkins had pushed him as if they were both trapped in a game of
chicken, and he had resisted the temptation to call for time-out, only so he
could prove himself.
That mission had been
accomplished. At the end, Jasper had been in tears, while Angel had just waited
for his master to praise him, the same cruel, knowing smile on his face,
without throwing one shred of mercy at his partner. It had taken Hudson all his
training to resist the temptation to throttle Watkins on the spot. It was for a
good cause, he had repeated to himself. He needed to dig deeper into the
darkness until he uncovered everything.
And now, the darkness
that had clung to him like a cape made of spider's web was receding as he
kissed Otis over and over. It took him a few long moments to realize that Otis,
despite kissing back with his mouth, was sitting rigidly, his fists pushed
against his knees.
He pulled back
reluctantly and placed one hand over Otis's fists. "Since I believe you're here
for your lessons," he said softly, "here is another for you. When someone
kisses you or touches you or does anything that makes you uncomfortable, you
must say `no'. Loud and clear."
"I don't want to say
`no'," Otis replied and looked him in the eyes.
Hudson rubbed his palm
gently over Otis's closed fists. "It looks to me like you're not crazy about
this. Care to share?"
Only then did Otis appear
to understand what he meant. He blushed profusely and shook his head. "It's not
discomfort." He almost choked as he tried to get the words out. "I mean, I
suppose it is in a way, but not like that." A short silence followed. "It's
because... I'm afraid," his voice faded to a whisper, "that you might... not like
it if I acted... how I feel."
Hudson let out a relieved
sigh. "I trust you," he said and closed his hand tightly over Otis's fists.
"So, do your worse. I promise I won't stop you unless it really hurts."
Otis's beautiful eye grew
wide. "Then, I can do anything?"
"Anything. As long as you
don't hurt yourself, either," Hudson added, although, just as he said the
words, that there was never a guarantee that feelings wouldn't get hurt.
***
Otis felt dizzy with
elation at Hudson's words. Kissing didn't hurt at all. In fact, it was amazing.
But now, energized as he was by that simple promise made by his teacher, he
wanted more. He was even greedy, he realized, but it didn't matter. He stood up
and walked over to the wall covered in those unusual implements. He didn't dare
look at Hudson, afraid that the man might change his mind about giving him
carte blanche.
Slowly, he let his
fingers hover, not really touching anything. He licked his lips nervously as he
stopped to look at what seemed to be a heavy wooden paddle. What was that used
for? He had so many questions! But he needed to focus. What he really wanted
was a bit further to the right. Closing his eyes for a moment, he braced
himself for the decision. Such had been his dreams over the last few nights,
wide-eyed dreams while he had laid in bed, unable to sleep. He grabbed the
chosen item from the wall and pressed it against his chest.
Well aware of the heat in
his cheeks, he turned toward Hudson. "I want you to put this on me."
For a moment, he thought
that he might have gone too far. Hudson was looking at him, his face
unreadable. But then, he got up from the couch and walked over to him, moving
slowly and gracefully, his dark eyes never leaving his. A warm rough hand
wrapped around his clenched fist and removed the item with infinite patience.
"I think this is a bit too much for the first time and it doesn't fit you."
"But--" Otis argued,
desperate that the opportunity was slipping through his fingers.
"Wait," Hudson advised
and crouched to look for something in a metal box placed at the foot of the
wall, right under all of those implements. He put the heavy studded collar back
on the wall and turned toward Otis. He was holding another collar that looked
like a simple leather band and not much else.
Only when Hudson moved
his hands did Otis realize how pretty the collar was. It was held together by a
thick metal buckle shaped like a heart. He didn't move, didn't even dare to
breath as Hudson put the collar around his neck, his fingers working
efficiently and touching his heated skin only now and then.
He could feel the small
heart pressing slightly against his neck, but only enough to let him know it
was there without being uncomfortable. Hudson's hands on his shoulders were the
same, not too heavy, not too light. "How does it feel?"
He didn't need any help
to express that. "Safe," he replied and touched the metal heart.
"Is it too tight?" Hudson
continued.
Otis shook his head
energetically. "No, it's perfect. And it's a very pretty collar."
"It's actually called a
choker," Hudson explained.
"It doesn't choke me,"
Otis pointed out.
A shadow moved over
Hudson's handsome features for a moment. "And it's not supposed to. It's yours
if you want it."
"Can I keep it? Really?"
"Yes."
"Can I wear it all the
time?" Otis didn't recall ever receiving such a pretty gift. And sexy. Yes, it
was sexy, because it made him feel sexy.
"Don't you think people
at work might wonder about it?" Hudson teased him.
"I'll wear a higher
collar. Like this," Otis explained. "Thank you. How can I repay you for such a
wonderful gift?"
Hudson's eyes darkened,
but not like before, with something alien and strange, but also with something
else that made Otis feel heat returning to his cheeks and the need to squirm.
***
How could someone so
innocent push all the right buttons? Hudson felt desire flooding back into his
system after it had been chased away by the recent events so harshly that he
would have thought it impossible to feel it again until weeks later. It wasn't
the spike of want he usually experienced either, not an itch he needed to
scratch, not a base sensation either.
"Repay me?" he asked
slowly. "You don't have to do that."
"I insist," Otis said,
looking determined to obtain what he was there for.
Hudson truly wanted to
know more about that, and not only. He wanted to know this beautiful young man
as much as a human being was able to know another. "If you insist," he said.
"Okay, but only if you promise me, really promise me, that you will stop if you
feel that I'm going too far."
With any other man waking
such sensations in him, he would have been naked and halfway through the act by
now. Only this wasn't the usual sensation, was it?
"Please, tell me," Otis
said eagerly.
Hudson took one step back
and then another. "I'd like to see you wearing nothing else but that choker."
Otis looked at him in
unhidden shock. "Do you want me to pose for you?"
Why not? He'd keep that
particular set of pictures for himself, without a doubt. "Yes."
"But I'm not handsome
like the others," Otis argued.
"Sorry for breaking it to
you, but you're wrong. Actually, you're right," Hudson decided to tease the
pretty man in front of him a little, "you're much more handsome, nothing like
them."
Otis began to snicker,
aware of the joke. "You'll be disappointed," he warned.
"Let me be the judge of
that."
"Will you tell me if I
look weird naked?"
"Cross my heart."
***
Hudson wanted to see him
naked. He was so unprepared for it, mentally at least, because he did have
clean socks on and underwear and everything else. But this was a chance for his
teacher to evaluate what kind of chances Otis might have in the real world of
dating, seeing how gay guys seemed all to be interested in meat percentage and
things like that. Maybe Hudson had some advice for him to get more of that,
too.
He touched his choker and
smiled. If he was brave enough to wear something like that, he could undress,
as well. Maybe he'd keep his eyes closed and that would save him some embarrassment.
"Please, promise not to laugh," he pleaded as he reached for the cuff buttons
of his shirt.
Hudson didn't look to be at
all in the mood to laugh. His dark eyes were burning, or so Otis felt under his
gaze.
"Should I go sit on the
couch?" he asked.
Hudson stepped out of the
way and then took his seat on the chair across. He began fiddling with the
camera installed on the tripod and then looked at him again. "Continue."
Was it his hearing going
bad, or had Hudson's voice sounded huskier than usual? Otis removed his shirt
completely and placed it carefully on the arm of the couch to his right.
"Should I do the undershirt next or remove my pants?" he asked.
"Take it all off," came
the crisp reply.
Otis nodded, happy with
being given such a clear order. He hoped he was efficient enough as he removed
his underwear and folded it to put it with the rest. For a moment, he stopped
and covered his front. It was enough to look at Hudson, how he sat there, one
leg crossed over the other at the ankle, his tight t-shirt stretched over his
chest, and Otis could feel his temperature rising without having a fever.
"How," he began and swallowed thickly, "do you want me?"
"That's a dangerous
question, Otis," Hudson growled and stared at him intently. "Please lie on the
couch, on your belly. Yes, like that. Turn your head and look at me over your
shoulder."
To look at Hudson now
meant looking at the camera, and that felt a bit odd. "Are you cold? You seem a
bit stiff."
"I've never posed
before," Otis explained.
"I understand. Forget
about looking at me or the camera. Close your eyes if you want. And think about
how having that choker around your neck makes you feel."
That was a lot easier.
Otis tipped his head back a little and touched his choker. If he kept his eyes
closed, he could still imagine Hudson's fingers brushing against his skin while
putting it on him.
"Yes, like that, baby,"
Hudson encouraged him. "Lift your butt a little higher."
Otis felt as if he had gotten
drunk again, although he had had nothing but water all day long. He pushed his
ass up, as Hudson asked him to, feeling a new type of heat pooling in his
groin.
Hudson moved away from
his tripod and came closer. Otis tipped his head back as far as he could to see
him hovering above, the camera in his hand.
"Now, slowly, get up on
all fours," Hudson advised and caressed his spine from between his shoulder
blades down to the small of his back, right above his ass.
Otis shuddered, but
obeyed. His breath hitched as Hudson reached between his legs but only so that
he could push them apart slightly. The back of Hudson's hand brushed against
his most intimate parts and the heat inside him soared.
"Now turn, baby," Hudson
encouraged him.
"I can't," Otis
whispered.
"Why?"
"Because... I..." he choked
and didn't say it.
Hudson took it upon
himself to help him turn on his back. And then, he took his hands when he tried
to cover his shameful parts and pushed them up, above his head. "Don't worry
about a thing, beautiful," he whispered. "You look amazing. Every inch of you."
Otis dared to open his
eyes. The hair had fallen away from his forehead, so he was giving Hudson the unimpeded
sight of his weird, smaller eye, too, now.
That didn't appear to
shock Hudson in any way. "Hold your arms above your head like this and look
up." He released Otis's hands to handle the camera. "Damn, Otis, you should see
yourself." Before he could argue, Hudson added. "You're the most beautiful man
I've ever met in my life."
That was enough for him.
He bit on his bottom lip and let out a small sound. The next moment, hot lips
were all over his again.
TBC
Support me
on Patreon and read a few chapters ahead:
https://www.patreon.com/laurasfox
My patrons
receive early access to chapters for works in progress, complete books, bonus
stories for finished series, and other nice extras.
Good Guys Don't Date Bad Boys is also now out in ebook and paperback formats on Amazon:
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0C8GR15TV
If you enjoyed that story and care to leave a review, I would be very
grateful!