Ch. 12 – Restraint

Chapter Twelve – Restraint

Hudson watched as Otis unhooked the leash from the wall with delicate moves. Heaven help him, he wished he'd never be forced to let his beautiful neighbor out of his sight for long, and that was a new feeling for him. He'd known he liked men ever since his teenage years and had his fair share of notches on his belt, so how come everything about this new guy felt so different? Life's ambitions must have gotten in the way of a genuine relationship more often than not, so why wasn't that working now? To a certain degree, it felt like a joke, one at his expense, orchestrated by invisible forces. It was a frightening realization, too; someone in his position, as an investigator working undercover, as a man who didn't do relationships – such a cliché, and yet, still true, right? – would ask Otis to leave so that things could return to his control and stay that way.

He did nothing of the kind. In fact, despite his better judgement, he did the opposite. Even putting that leash up on display among the other paraphernalia had been a calculated move on his part – if he could even call it that – a move in the game of seduction they played.

Was it only him or could it be that Otis was also playing? His pretty neighbor was a guy incapable of guile and deceit. For Otis, it was the real deal, and, no matter how much he wished he could tell himself otherwise, Hudson knew that it was the same for him. There was more than base desire between them, not that there was anything wrong with feeling the need for another person's touch or enjoying sex.

Otis returned with the leash in his hand, his eyes shining with excitement. His rosy lips parted slightly, and he bit on the bottom one from time to time, leaving it glistening in the wake of his shy gesture. Hudson swallowed thickly. There was only one thing left to do, right? To reach out and grab that illusory figment of fate, presented to him in such a pretty package.

"What do we do now?" Otis asked in a strained whisper, still holding the leash in his hand, but this time at an awkward angle, as if he didn't know how he was supposed to act.

It was true. He was that innocent, and Hudson felt a thrumming in his blood, a flurry of beautiful sensations playing across his skin, raising goosebumps everywhere. "Give it to me."

With the same deference that appeared to have been ingrained in him from an early age, Otis placed the leather strap on his open palm and then waited, his hands behind his back, his whole body tense in anticipation. 

That made two of them. Hudson cleared his throat. Men loved it when he was dominant in bed, when he took them in hand, so to speak, and yet, that pure look of abandonment in the lovely blue eye staring at him from one side made him feel more empowered than ever. It was so overpowering it made him feel dizzy. What kind of explanation did scientists have for something like this? Would they say it was all just fluids and hormones and body chemistry? It couldn't be; Hudson liked to think that there was more to human beings, to what they shared, than that.

If he needed any other proof that he was losing his head a bit over this sweet man standing before him, that was it. "Take off your clothes," he ordered while swinging the leash in his hand slowly.

Otis nodded and quickly began. His fingers were unsure and, more than once, he struggled with a button of his dress shirt, but Hudson didn't offer to help this time around. He was the one overwhelmed now, just sitting there and eyeing each inch of milky skin revealed to him. He felt the new promise of endless, mind-blowing satisfaction take over at knowing he could touch everything, feel everything, if he only decided to move. 

Only the rustling of clothes disturbed the silence between them. Hudson resisted the need to fidget, to adjust himself. For Otis, he had to show that he knew what he was doing. 

"I'm ready." Otis was completely naked and held his hands in front of himself, one wrapped around the other's wrist, covering his nether parts.

"Show me," Hudson ordered softly. "Your cock."

That elicited a small gasp from Otis, but he obeyed. Hudson focused all his attention on the bare skin presented to him, a smile finding its way to the corners of his lips as he observed the endearingly fast reaction. "Good," he said. "Now kneel."

Otis scrambled to his knees and looked down. He was red in the face, his cheeks as delicious as apples, and Hudson couldn't help anticipating how scrumptious they would be if he pretended to take a bite. 

He patted his knee. "Come closer and put your head here."

A more eager puppy had never been seen. Otis reached him and pushed his head against Hudson's knee, his lips drawing apart to let small huffs of pleasure escape. He reached for the choker and found a place where he could push the carabiner clasp through. "Is it too cold?" he asked as he sensed the shiver go through the prone body at his feet.

"No."

"All right. Now, move back a bit. Keep kneeling."

He was holding the end of the leash, and now it was acting as a link between them. Otis was sitting back on his heels and placed his hands on his knees, his eyes, unblinking, set on Hudson. That game could be unnerving for both of them. "Very good," Hudson praised him again. "Tell me how you feel." When had he ever needed to make sure that his partner was enjoying it? The usual soft grunts and moans of pleasure were a dead giveaway, and most men he had been with were quite vocal. However, Otis was different, and he appeared to need gentle coaxing to say what he truly felt.

"Safe," Otis replied, without one hint of hesitation.

That was the same thing he had said about the choker. Otis was a young man with a deeply ingrained need for safety, and Hudson was more than happy to provide it. "What would you like to happen next?"

Otis blushed more and looked away, worrying his bottom lip, as he usually did when thinking. "I want you to ask me to do things," he whispered and set his eyes on the floor in front of him. 

"Are you giving me free rein?" Hudson asked.

"Yes."

"But you will stop me if you don't like it." Since there was no answer forthcoming, he insisted. "I need to know that you will do that, Otis."

"Yes. I will tell you… I will stop you… But… I like everything you tell me to do."

Hudson had to shift his position a smidge. Sweet surrender, was that what better poets than him called it? "Come here," he said again.

Otis looked happy to obey. When he was only an inch away from Hudson's knees, he stopped and waited. All he was missing was a lolling tongue. Hudson caressed his hair, pushing it back and drew an invisible line over the forehead, nose and lips. He cupped Otis's jawline and used his thumb to caress the soft lips slowly. They parted of their own accord and soon a keen tongue wrapped around his digit, triggering a hundred new sensations in his body. "Suck," he ordered in a gruff voice. He stopped himself in time. It wouldn't do to scare his precious charge by being too eager himself.

Otis set to work enthusiastically. He caught Hudson's thumb between his lips and began sucking with gusto. It should have been the sort of foreplay partners enjoyed in order to postpone the inevitable. Yet, he believed it was the sort of torture meant to make a man mad with lust. He didn't know if he desired Otis to move on to something else or just let himself remain a prisoner to those magnetic blue eyes, both of them staring at him while their owner provided the arousing image of his mouth engaged in the sucking motion that gave Hudson a very good idea of how it would feel to have it done to another part of his anatomy.

Speaking of the devil, that part felt neglected and pulsed in his jeans. "I thought I should teach you restraint," he said in a rough whisper. What an incredible notion that seemed now. "That was what the leash was for."

Otis stopped sucking and stared at him without letting his prize out of his mouth. It was difficult to gauge what he was thinking when he did that thing involving not blinking at all. Hudson removed his thumb and used it to caress Otis's lips again. "I can be good," Otis said, dropping his eyelids and licking Hudson's hand slowly. "Just tell me what to do."

***

He didn't know what Hudson wanted. His sexy neighbor was a man seasoned in the ways of physical love, as people described it in old romance novels, while he, Otis, was completely unknowledgeable. It was a bit frustrating the way his experienced tutor was teaching today's lesson. Too little guidance, he wanted to complain, too much freedom, and he didn't know what to do with that, either.

And then, there was also the way he felt down there, the stiffness of his cock making him burn with embarrassment. If Hudson thought anything of his red face, he chose not to comment on it, and that was his saving grace. Sucking on the man's thumb had felt good and rewarding, but now, he was eager for more. Could it be that he was too greedy? And what did restraint mean, anyway?

Nonetheless, he needed to show that he was willing to learn. Therefore, he pressed his burning cheek against Hudson's hand. "Teach me restraint if that is what I must know."

Dating had to be quite a complex relationship between people, and it was confusing, too. But he had a great master, and he was putting his all into it. 

"I'm afraid that ship has sailed," Hudson replied, but the tone of his voice suggested nothing remotely similar to regret. Not the way he had heard people use the word 'afraid', either. His neighbor made for a good study regarding the complexities of human beings, too. He should have been so happy… yet, the overwhelming sensation he was experiencing was one of imperious need.

He also felt helpless in the face of the disappointment he sensed coming. If the lesson for the day was ruined, what did it mean? That he had to put his clothes back on and leave? The throbbing between his legs was real, so he wrapped his arms around Hudson's calf, pressing himself against him.

The way Hudson caressed his head felt good. The rough feel of the jeans against his cheek was the same. But what could he do, as badly equipped as he was, to put all that he was experiencing into words? There was so much for him to learn, and so little time. Would he ever catch up?

Hudson interrupted his train of thought. "What are we going to do, Otis?" He let out a sigh, too, but he didn't seem regretful this time around, either. "I want to do unspeakable things to you."

Unspeakable. So Hudson wasn't skilled at putting everything he felt into words, either. That was a comforting thought. He mimicked his teacher, for lack of any brighter idea. "I want that, too."

Hudson's chuckle made him shiver for a moment. "You want me to do unspeakable things to you?"

That wasn't exactly what he had meant, but he knew the proper answer to that one. "Yes."

"You're killing me here. Well, if that is so, then."

Otis watched as Hudson used only one hand, unwilling as he appeared to be to let go of his head and caressing him, to open the fly of his jeans. Prince Albert sprang from underneath like a jack in a box. Now that was a sight that had overtaken all his dreams of late, some even of the type to have left him wide-eyed. Hudson's cock had every right to be called a prince because it was majestic and handsome, like a fairytale prince, if there were a fairytale in which princes were men's penises. 

"Bring your face closer, Otis," Hudson said gently. "Don't you want to see it better?"

He nodded happily and moved so fast that his cheek ended up plastered against the length of Hudson's cock, now freed from the confines of the man's jeans completely. His teacher laughed and steadied him. "Now, all I want is to look at your beautiful face like this."

Otis stared in fascination while Hudson began moving one hand up and down the erect cock. There was moisture gathering inside the little slit, and the metal bead made it look so yummy that his mouth went dry at the sight. Without being told, he moved closer and stuck out his tongue.

"What are you doing?" Hudson asked, but he sounded amused. Otis remained like that, tongue out and looking up. "You have no idea, do you?"

Otis didn't protest in the slightest when Hudson took him by the back of the head and gave him his reward. The feeling of that engorged head on his tongue was like nothing he had ever experienced in his life to date. The pressure from Hudson's hand propelled him forward and, so fast that he had barely had time to realize what was going on, half of that amazing cock was in his mouth, and he could feel the metal beads with his palate and tongue both. It  made him feel as if he was playing with the most exciting lollipop. He began exploring eagerly, using his tongue plenty. 

"Damn, Otis," Hudson whispered. "That's some real tongue action."

Was that bad? It didn't seem bad. However, without letting go of the prize in his mouth, Otis looked up for confirmation. Hudson ran one hand over his eyes. "Go ahead and use me if you must."

Must was the right word, because it was stronger than need. Otis lapped at the piercing from all sides, playing with it and enjoying the taste on his tongue. He wanted so much of it, but it looked like his mouth was too small. He had seen some adult videos, and those people appeared to encounter no such issues. What was he to do? What if his mouth was wrong? And it was a shame that he couldn't even focus on the technical limitations of his own anatomy because having his mouth, all of it, as little help as that was, all over Hudson's cock, sent ripples of pleasure through his entire body. 

"You're doing good, Otis," Hudson praised him. "Now, I need you to move back a bit and close your eyes."

He obeyed without protest, eager to learn more about that sort of pleasure. He opened his mouth wider, without being told, and stuck out his tongue. 

"Damn," he heard Hudson say, and then, something warm and liquid hit his eyelids and cheeks, some of it landing on his tongue. 

It was a bit salty and strange but he swallowed eagerly, opening his mouth for more. 

Hudson guessed what he wanted right away. "Do you want more? I believe you squeezed it all out of me, but here."

Otis felt the still hard cock rubbing against his tongue, and he chased more of that strange liquid around the head. He knew what it was, of course, he wasn't that unknowledgeable. However, he had never tasted it, and now that he knew what it was like, indeed, he wanted more. So he licked it all from Hudson's cock until the man pushed his head away playfully and laughed. "It's too sensitive now, Otis."

"Sorry," he said and tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids were heavy with semen, too. What a waste, he thought, but kept it to himself. Maybe that was the lesson, that he couldn't have the whole of it, when it happened. He would have to ask, but later. The throbbing between his legs had only gotten worse, despite how satisfied he felt from tasting Hudson's semen. 

Hudson used a tissue to wipe his eyes and cheeks, and then gave him a short peck on the lips. "Your first time eating cum?"

That was such a naughty way of putting it, but Otis liked it. He nodded and looked up. "It was very good, thank you."

Hudson laughed and caressed his cheeks. "You're thanking me for the meal?"

"It was hardly that. Too little," Otis explained. 

The dark eyes opened wide in obvious amusement. "Aren't you a cheeky bastard now, judging me for my lousy load?"

"I am not judging you!" Otis protested. Had he overstepped? Dating rules were hard.

Hudson kissed him again and surprised him by having him stand. And, just like that, without any warning, there was a hot mouth over his throbbing erection, all of it, much to his chagrin and envy. Not that those feelings lasted long. For balance, Otis had his hands wrapped around Hudson's head, while the hotness and wetness overwhelmed him. He could tell that everything was there, everything that he needed and wanted to feel. 

And there was something else, too. Hudson was pushing his right hand between his legs, from behind, and his thumb was now pressed against Otis's hole. That was so embarrassing! Had to be, at least… but again, he couldn't think, because it felt good, too, although it didn't go in. Nonetheless, the tension steadily applied made him want to buck back his hips and spread himself somehow, as needy as he was of that new sensation.

Not that much was required for him to reach the finish line of their lesson. To feel pleasure was easy, he thought as his entire body gave in; to give pleasure was a bit more complicated, but he had a good teacher, so he was sure he'd learn everything he needed.

***

Restraint, my ass, Hudson thought as he pulled Otis into his arms and made them both sit on the sofa. That had been the complete opposite of it. Not only had he allowed himself to give Otis a sexy facial, but he had even initiated the exploration of the young man's definitely virgin backdoor. The simple realization of that fact was enough to trigger in him all sorts of new ideas, such as feeling entitled to Otis's virginity, and the need to push away any other man who dared to come close to his prize.

When had been the last time he had felt so possessive? He was mostly a surly man, he didn't like people to get up in his business, and he kept a lot to himself. But none of these character traits justified the stinginess he felt regarding having to share Otis with other men in the present and future, both. It was silly to think that he was falling for his cute neighbor. There had to be an explanation for it, such as that the young man was like a ray of light in the world of darkness he had chosen to delve into of his own accord, and that his innocence balanced all the bad, helping him feel normal for a change. That sexual desire flared between them, that was good and natural, and it reminded Hudson of the good that was in the world, for which he had vowed to fight for as long as he breathed.

It was a good rationalization, of course it was. Usually, he was good at it, his brain capable of analyzing clues, putting them together, and finding a solution. His was the brain of an investigator, and yet his abilities as a detective were falling short on this particular occasion. They didn't explain why he felt so attracted to Otis, and especially so possessive. 

"How do you feel?" he asked, looking down at the blond head resting on his chest. It seemed so natural to hold that naked body in his arms. Otis, as shy as he seemed, appeared to be quite comfortable with him, even without his clothes on.

"Amazing," came the honest reply. Then, a lot less boldly, "Are you going to teach me about the butt thing also?"

The butt thing. Otis was too cute for his own good. "Do you mean, anal sex?"

"Anal is a word that has more than one sense," Otis recited. "Such as when you say that someone is anal, you mean that he is persnickety, and not that he is an ass."

Hudson couldn't help the bubbling laughter in his chest. "Persnickety? And, I don't know, but a guy you can call that just might be a bit of an ass."

Otis thought it over for a while. "That is confusing," he declared.

"Not really. And I believe you're the first person I've heard in my life to use the word persnickety so casually."

"Is it not done?" Otis inquired politely. "Not a common word?"

"I guess you can say that. You're obviously more knowledgeable of less used words than the people I know."

Otis sighed. "Every day, I am learning," he confessed. "But it's hard to know from the dictionary which ones are the common ones, and which are not. Grandma always told me to focus on the common ones."

Hudson grunted in confirmation. That niggling sensation at the back of his mind, that instinct that made him a good detective, told him that a simple aspect like that, Otis learning words from the dictionary, was important. "So, you just decided to be anal about it," he offered as a joke.

Otis looked up to him with the most candid eyes a guy his age was allowed to have. "Are you calling me an ass?"

Hudson laughed. "Just persnickety. Why are you learning words from the dictionary? Are there spelling bees for adults I don't know about?"

"There are no spelling bees for adults," Otis corrected him. "If you're fifteen years old, you're out." He appeared very sure of that, so he must have done his research thoroughly.

It still didn't shed any light as to why he had to learn words from the dictionary; maybe it was nothing but a hobby, and he was trying to read too much into it. A short jolt of realization followed. He wanted to learn about Otis, not only the sexual things, but also the things that made him tick. So far, Hudson knew that his neighbor was very polite, had a strange practical manner regarding various things and seemed a sucker for discounts where kitchen appliances were concerned. "So, why are you learning? What's your motivation?" he asked.

Otis remained silent for a bit, and Hudson couldn't help thinking that he had struck a nerve, and not entirely by accident. Leaving his detective inquisitiveness and intuition at the door didn't work with him. "I know very little," Otis explained. "That's why."

"Were you a slow learner in school? Don't tell me you were a bad boy, skipping classes," Hudson teased him.

"No," Otis replied and looked at him with a little scowl that only made him cuter. "School is very important. I was just late to start."

That was a piece of important information. Maybe pressing him for more wasn't a good idea; Otis wasn't a perp he needed to force into confessing. 

Otis saved him from his conundrum by continuing. "When grandma took me in, people my age had already been in school for many years." His voice grew somber, and Hudson half-regretted insisting on the topic. "So I had to learn from scratch. Everything. And it's a lot. Some things I just cannot understand easily."

"Maybe because some of them can be insanely boring," Hudson came to the rescue.

Otis pushed himself up so that he could look into Hudson's eyes. "I thought only I found them so!"

"No, definitely not," Hudson assured him. "And I was a bad student when I was in school. I only wanted to learn the things I liked. That didn't sit so well with all my teachers, as you can easily imagine."

Otis seemed so happy at that confession that Hudson had to smile, too. "That's a relief," he said and pressed his hands on his chest. 

It wasn't that wise because it drew Hudson's attention to those rosy nipples. Suddenly, he had an appetite that demanded him to taste those perky nubs of flesh. He hiked Otis higher and sucked on his chest, making him gasp and giggle. "What?" he drawled and then kissed the other.

"I'm a bit ticklish."

"I can't help myself since you're so tasty everywhere."

"Really? But you really taste good."

He had to go and say the darndest things. Hudson had a vague idea that he needed to stop, and as he forced his head to clear itself, he made the decision he hadn't cared to contemplate for the entire evening. "Let's get you back into your clothes and you back to your place. What do you say?"

"Of course," Otis said politely. "I have overstayed my welcome."

"Trust me, kid, you've overstayed nothing. But I believe that we both need our sleep, and if I keep you here, I don't think either of us is going to get any."

"This sofa is really small," Otis said and pursed his lips. "Not ideal for a sleepover."

He could say that again. Hudson gave him a long kiss without making it too sexual and got themselves up to their feet. He didn't have sleep to worry about, but his shift at Twinlight. The reality of his work invaded his brain. This had been a good break to enjoy. But, like all good things, it needed to end, no matter how much he wished things were otherwise.

***

Again, he was alone in his bed. It wasn't very narrow, he mused, as he stretched out his arms. Surely, more comfortable than Hudson's sofa. The only thing he needed to figure out was how to get his neighbor in bed with him. The thought made him giggle. It had to be a little naughty since no one thought of that expression except for expressing an intention to have sex, one activity he had indulged in quite a lot lately, under Hudson's guidance.

He had had oral sex. Otis touched his lips gingerly. Had it been enjoyable? For him, definitely, but he lacked experience, so Hudson maybe didn't think he was that good. It only led to one logical conclusion. He really needed more practice.

Did Hudson ever sleep well on that sofa? It was long enough to accommodate the man's height, but it wasn't a bed. He needed to create a list of differences between a sofa and a bed so that he could convince his neighbor to share a bed… his bed.

He sighed in contentment and closed his eyes. That list could wait. What couldn't wait were the tiny thoughts trying to send him cowering into a corner ever since he had said too much. He didn't know what about his past would make Hudson think he was strange, so the safest rule should have been to keep his mouth shut altogether. But, as he had lain there in those strong tattooed arms, he had given up on that old guard and said too much, for sure.

With those regrets came memories, and they were far from pleasant. The speech therapist had been so kind to him, helping him articulate each word correctly. Stunted development? That had been what they called it. How could he have learned how to speak properly when the smallest whisper of his voice was enough to trigger his mom's rage? He had learned to be quiet. Quiet and observant, carefully listening through the cracks between the baseboards to the other room. There were no books, either, and no TV. His mom yelled at him and slammed the door shut, leaving him in darkness until the next day. She didn't like talking, either, her eager hands just reaching for the bottle.

He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to push those sad thoughts away. His grandma had read so many books to him until he had learned to read them himself. So much to learn, and he was eager to do so, too, but there was a limit to what he could assimilate every single day. By the time he could go to school, he was the strange one, still. 

He had felt sick on many days of school. That wasn't always because he had a fever, and many times he faked the illness, but it was only because it made him sick to his stomach to think of going to a place with so many unknown faces. There were just too many things there to be aware of, and even not blinking didn't help. How could he be expected to keep his eyes on everyone, when there were so many of them?

Not all of the teachers understood that he was special. His grandma always said that he wasn't strange, just different from others. But it wasn't right to put him into a school for people with special needs, because his intellect was ready for the challenge, or so the different therapists they had seen together said.

No point in thinking of those days. He was a grownup now. He waited on tables and customers, and he took lessons in dating from a very handsome man. He was even making friends, like Missy and Jackie, and grandma would be so proud of him.

So, why did the taste of ashes still linger in his mouth as he tried to fall asleep? In his dreams, he never reached the house in time. It was always too late.

TBC