Ch. 8 – Trust

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