Dating Rules And Pretty Fools Ch. 04

Chapter Four -- The Kind of Neighbors that Kiss

Hudson stepped into the elevator and pressed his forefingers against his temples, forcing a groan out of himself as he leaned against the wall. Two days after having paid that visit to The Bouncing Bunny, and he still felt the grime of that place on his skin. He had taken photos of the two young men while giving them free reign to pet each other -- nothing too raunchy, he had ordered, some people liked using their imagination -- and he had focused the phone camera on their faces, trying to catch them at good angles so that he could search for them in the missing persons database he accessed using his usual credentials. It was a tedious task that had kept him awake more than it should have, but he couldn't stop himself from doing it. The captain kept telling him he couldn't save everyone. That still left room for saving some, right?

"Hold the door, please," someone called out and Hudson immediately held up his arm to do as asked.

He was rather surprised to see his neighbor, his cute neighbor who had run out of his apartment after being kissed as if his house had been on fire, rushing into such close quarters with him, looking a little flushed and breathless.

"How're you doing?" he asked with a polite smile, meant for neighbors he didn't know anything about. Except that he knew a couple of things about this one, didn't he? He stole a glance at Otis. He was biting his bottom lip and looking ahead. Was the young man trying to ignore him? That would do both of them a world of good.

"I'm fine, thank you for your kind question," Otis replied in his usual, over the top formal fashion. "And how are you?"

"I've been better. Thank you for your kind question," Hudson mimicked.

The elevator seemed to move at a snail's pace. There was an awkward silence between them until the car stopped. Hudson made a move to get to the door, and Otis hurried toward it at the same time, which made them clash and look at each other, equally startled.

There were things you could change in the world, right? Philosophers and the like said so; they said it was healthy. Hudson made the decision in the blink of an eye. "Are you still looking for dating advice?" he asked.

"Yes, always," Otis replied and blushed. He bit his bottom lip again and looked away.

"How about now?" Hudson offered. For some reason, the youth in front of him didn't think himself dating material and that was a mistake. Also, since he appeared to be so gullible despite his strange mannerisms, he could also fall victim to bad people. Hudson was already preparing a mental lecture. Damn, maybe he was getting old. Older than his years, obviously.

***

That had been an unexpected encounter. Otis had played various scenarios in his mind regarding the best way to act when seeing Hudson again. Apparently, his imagination had a way of running away with him, because, invariably, he visualized himself getting pressed against a wall, a sofa, a bed, or even the floor, by his neighbor's hard body and made to yield to another kiss. He had to stop imagining ever seeing Hudson again altogether just to stop the boiling in his blood. Well, maybe it didn't boil, because that would cause his death, but there was a definite rise in temperature he experienced if he did as little as think of those tattoos pointing at a certain part of his neighbor's anatomy.

His grandma used to say that fate had its ways to work itself out. Even the direst circumstances shouldn't make you lose hope. That was a beautiful thought; Otis had always thought so.

Right now, fate was offering him a chance. Hudson was offering more dating advice, so he had to take it because a 'no' at the wrong time might close that door for him forever.

"Yes," he replied energetically to his neighbor's question. "I would love to."

"Then, please, be my guest for the next ten minutes or so," Hudson said.

"Ten minutes? That sounds like a very short time for proper advice," Otis commented.

"You're in the habit of cutting these little sessions of ours quite short," Hudson said as they walked side by side down the hallway. He added a smile to that, and Otis made the mistake of looking at him. That dimple was there. It drew his eyes and he wanted to look at it from up close, maybe even touch it. "Is there something on my face?"

Otis shook his head. "You have a dimple. It's funny. It makes me want to poke you."

Hudson laughed and opened the door to his apartment. "Come on. I'll answer your questions and give you some thoughts of my own. But no poking, please."

"Of course not. I don't act on my impulses," Otis replied with emphasis. "I'm a thinking person."

"Until you're not." The last words were said so quietly that he almost missed them.

However, it seemed dishonest to pretend. "I heard that," he said.

"Damn, you're a smartass," Hudson commented and chuckled.

Even the way he chuckled made him sound like a man, Otis mused. Yes, everything about Hudson was manly, from the short stubble on his face to the way he moved with so much confidence in his muscles, joints and bones. There was so much to learn from him. Otis felt truly excited about it.

Hudson invited him to sit on the same sofa, and Otis decided to project the right image this time around. He took his seat with determination and then looked up at his host expectantly. "I'm ready," he said, after a few unnerving moments during which Hudson just stood there, a couple of feet away, staring at him. There was also the matter of all those leashes and muzzles on the wall, and Otis had to use all his power not to let his eyes stray there. The need to ask questions would surely come next. Something told him that they weren't far enough into dating advice to bring those up.

"Let's start with something simple," Hudson began. Otis nodded eagerly. "Have you ever kissed someone?"

"Yes," Otis lied. He wasn't thinking at the moment, as much as he thought himself to be a thinking person. He couldn't help staring at Hudson, and that made his throat go dry. The way his neighbor crossed his arms, exposing his sleeve tattoos, was enough for him to turn hot and cold from one moment to the next. How was it possible to feel like that in Hudson's presence? Did Hudson realize what he was doing to people, only by walking in the world, with that purposeful stride, with those strong arms, with that confident look in his eyes?

"Let me make a few things clear. We're not talking here about the way you kiss your mom good night," Hudson said.

Otis felt his chest turning inward. His mom had never liked good night kisses. He couldn't remember one occasion she had let him kiss her.

Hudson took his silence for something else. "Look, Otis, it seems to me that you don't kiss much. And, if you want to date, kissing sort of comes with the territory."

He clasped his hands tightly and held them pressed against his knees. "I do kiss. Boys. Men." His face was getting hotter and hotter by the minute.

Finally, he dared to look up. Hudson was staring at him with a stricken expression on his face. "Wow. Does my breath stink or something, then?"

Otis knew his face had to be beet-red by now; most probably, the whites of his eyes were making an ugly contrast against all that red. Hudson was obviously referencing their kiss. He looked down, feeling chastised. "No, it doesn't. You... taste good." He took one deep inhalation at the end of that, his chest tight and uncomfortable.

"Okay," Hudson said gently. "Then, what happened? Did you forget and leave your oven on?"

"I don't have an oven."

"Then what are you eating? Never mind. One look at you is enough to answer my question."

"I have a breakfast maker," Otis whispered, his voice already squealy and unnatural.

"Why are we talking about kitchen appliances?"

"You brought it up," Otis felt it necessary to point out.

Hudson, to his surprise, sighed deeply. "Why do you need dating advice, Otis?"

"Because," he began, feeling that he was finally stepping onto firm ground, "I am very bad at it."

"I don't see why. You're well-behaved, neat, beautiful."

The last word hit him right in the chest. He raised his eyes. "Beautiful?" he whispered.

You're ugly. You're so ugly. How do you expect anyone to tolerate you around them? The words, hissed at him so many times paired with alcohol-infused breath, made him turn his face away until his chin was grabbed hard and he was forced to look into those eyes filled with hate for him for reasons he had never understood.

"Yes, beautiful," Hudson repeated the word, without realizing what such a simple thing could do to him. "So, it appears to me that the only obstacles in your way are of your own making. Let's talk a little, and let me explain to you some things about men, and how to choose the right kind from the many douchebags who'll surely want to bang you."

Otis was breathless. He looked at Hudson for any signs that it was all just a mean joke to him. Maybe his neighbor considered him pitiful, unable to date at his age of twenty-two and all. But all he saw on that ragged face was honesty, or so he thought.

***

Hudson had no idea what to make of his cute neighbor's reaction to being called just what he was. The slightly parted lips were maddening if he only looked at them. They reminded him of the kiss they had shared not too long ago. You... taste good. Such a simple admission from a beautiful young man who was staring at him as if he had just seen something astonishing, never having been seen before.

He had no intention of being a flirt. In retrospect, the kiss had been a mistake, but he wouldn't say it out loud. Otis was likely to misunderstand, as it seemed to be his usual reaction to almost everything. He was fragile, Hudson realized. He needed to be treated gently and with care. Was there such a person as a good man for Otis out there? The young man deserved him if he existed.

To gather his thoughts and explain to Otis how to search for such a man and not waste his time and effort on douchebags, he let his eyes to travel to the wall of BDSM paraphernalia. Was he really the guy to give proper advice? Otis didn't know his true purpose here, but a wall full of whips, paddles, leashes and whatnot didn't serve well to recommend him.

He sensed Otis getting up from his seat and walking toward him. He turned his head just a moment too late. The next, Otis was all over him, wrapping his arms clumsily around his shoulders and going for a kiss. The surprise was so great, and Otis so enthusiastic in his attack that Hudson lost his balance and, together with his neighbor, he ended up slipping out of the chair and right onto the floor.

Otis appeared little fazed by their fall and continued to search Hudson's mouth with his tongue. Their lips met without much trouble, and the eagerness that exuded from the other's entire being knocked him off his feet. Which was very apropos, seeing how they were already sprawled on the floor.

All thoughts about mistakes and doing the right thing flew out the window that very moment. Otis's mouth was so hot on his, and even if it appeared that its owner had close to no clue in regards to what he was doing, it felt better than anything else he had experienced in his life so far. That was quite high praise for the pretty klutz in his arms. At some point, without even realizing it, he had also wrapped his arms around the other and was now holding him close.

As the guy in charge, as he should have been, he had to guide them both along that treacherous path. So, he snuck one hand up to bury into the lush hair at the back of Otis's head, to steady him in his attack and retreat flailing stratagem. He imposed the rhythm by taking the other's plump lips between his and then coaxing them into opening so that he could sneak his tongue inside and begin to taste Otis properly.

His cute neighbor had one sweet mouth on him. He was also emitting the cutest moans Hudson had ever heard in his life. The men he had hooked up with were usually experienced, business-like, just like him. It wasn't like him even to approach someone like Otis. Not that he didn't like this kind of buttoned-up, tidied-up, endearing young men. Quite the contrary. But he was firm in his beliefs that he wasn't the right type for them, and that it was obvious from the get-go that there was no point in trying.

It looked like such beliefs no longer held their usual place at the moment, because he was enjoying kissing Otis a lot. Even more, he was being kissed back, a slippery tongue, as sweet as honey, moving in and out of his mouth, in simulation of something else. He could tell that his cock very much agreed with that provocation, and he used one arm to press Otis against him hard, to make him understand exactly what his erratic attacks were doing to him.

He moved his other hand from the back of Otis's head to his ear, slowly massaging its edge between his thumb and forefinger, then stroking it slowly against the temple next to the never seen eye. His fingers met a raised ridge of flesh and, just as he was trying to figure out what it was, Otis stopped abruptly and pulled himself away from the touch.

Hudson had to admit that he couldn't really remember the last time a kiss had left him as breathless as he was now. Otis touched his temple, self-consciously.

"How did you get that?" Hudson asked, not one to beat around the bush.

"It doesn't matter," Otis replied and pulled his bangs down to cover the area properly.

Not a lie, not it's an old scar, not something along the lines of you wouldn't believe the kind of crazy things I used to do as a kid. What wasn't being said hung heavily between them. Hudson caressed Otis's face. "Is your shyness curable, after all?" he asked playfully, not wanting to press something that shouldn't concern him. After all, they were nothing but neighbors. The kind of neighbors that kissed each other breathless.

***

Otis couldn't believe a lot of things. It was as if, ever since that morning, he had turned into someone else, brave enough to lunge at his handsome neighbor and start kissing him. Another astonishing thing had been that he hadn't been pushed away, but instead, kissed back. Of course, there was the matter of the Wound, with a capital W, something that people usually didn't comment on, but Hudson had, nonetheless. Missy at work hadn't said a word about it, nor had his manager, but maybe they just didn't care. The customers hadn't been put off by the sight of it, since Mr. Smith had him keep both his eyes bare, and that had been a relief, too. About Jackie, Otis wasn't so sure. While talking to him, Otis had tried to face him by offering only his good side, so maybe the reason why Jackie still seemed so keen on turning him into arm candy was that he hadn't noticed.

"My shyness is the problem," he said energetically, as he finally remembered that he still had a tongue, as much as he had been keen on lending it to Hudson indefinitely for the last several minutes. Was that how long the kiss had lasted? It had felt short and long at the same time. And, lo and behold, he hadn't combusted from it. Go figure; he just needed some proper exposure, after all.

Hudson smiled at him and caressed his face slowly. "Well, it looks like something good did come out of this little session of ours. You kissed me."

Otis munched on his bottom lip nervously. "Yes," he squeaked. Why was he back to feeling awkward, after having kissed Hudson? That had been insanely brave, now that he looked back. But it had turned out well, because Hudson hadn't appeared to mind it at all. On the contrary, there had been signs of a certain type of desire being awakened in the other.

And now that he thought about the hardness poking him in the crotch, the one behind the fly of Hudson's jeans, he was starting to feel breathless again.

"So, do you believe me now?" Hudson asked, unexpectedly.

"About what?" Otis shot back, while trying to adjust his position without drawing too much attention to himself.

"That you're beautiful. I wouldn't kiss just anyone," Hudson said, and he had that playful smile on, the one that showed his dimple the most.

"I kissed you," Otis pointed out.

"Ah, you're such a stickler for details. How about we return to a vertical position?" Hudson proposed.

"Certainly," Otis said right away. He tried to push himself up, but Hudson caught him again and kissed him tenderly on the lips without sneaking in his tongue this time around.

It was only after that Hudson allowed him to get to his feet. Otis offered his hand and Hudson took it. Once they were both up, Otis couldn't help but notice the difference in height between them once again. This time, however, he did tip his head back to look at his neighbor. "Can you teach me?" he said in a heartbeat, before he lost all courage.

"Teach you about dating?" Hudson asked and brought one hand up to push Otis's hair behind his ear, the one opposite to the side with the Wound.

"Yes."

"Okay."

"How much do you charge?" Otis asked dutifully.

Hudson's dark eyes bore into his. It was easy to get dizzy just by looking. "Are we still on about that? For you, it's free."

"So, it isn't free for the other men," Otis concluded out loud.

"What men? Ah, you mean, my usual visitors," Hudson said and laughed for no apparent reason. "You are nothing like them."

Otis finally got the guts to look at the wall with leashes. "Do they like to pretend to be dogs?"

"Dogs?" Hudson seemed a bit surprised by the question. "Yes, some of them."

"Can I do that?"

"No." The answer had been a bit too forceful, and it took Otis by surprise. Could it be that it was actually Hudson who...? No, that couldn't be right. He seemed more like a dog owner to him. "Here is what I suggest, Otis. If you're in a hurry to date, just don't. Not until I teach you everything you need to know to land the right boyfriend."

That seemed reasonable. Otis had thought himself in a bit of a hurry, being twenty-two and all, but now he had a teacher, so he could postpone it a bit. "I would very much like that," he said directly. "And I'm no longer in a hurry, now that I have found you."

"Good." Hudson patted him on the head and then kissed him on the forehead. "Then, off you go now. Whenever you feel in the need for advice, knock on my door."

Otis was in a daze as he was guided toward that same door. Only after he reached his apartment did he realize that it would've been easier to ask Hudson for his phone number and establish their business meetings by that method of communication.

***

Hudson drew one long breath after Otis's footsteps in the hallway faded for good. What exactly was he doing? In all honesty, he had no idea how to teach Otis how to find the perfect man. He didn't know how to find one for himself, so what good was he as a teacher? And the whole thing was completely nuts if he only took a damn moment to think about it.

Of course, there was always a way to rationalize his actions. He wanted to keep his neighbor safe. One way to do it was to keep him from dating the wrong men. Otis seemed the obedient type, so it hadn't been difficult to fool him.

Hudson ran one hand over his face and groaned loudly. With all of the times in his life when he had been available to pursue someone he really liked, why was it happening now? He liked his cute neighbor, maybe a bit too much. His clumsy kisses were the best and made him feel alive like no one and nothing else had.

Yeah, Otis must have felt his erection. He hadn't seemed put off by it. That meant that he was a red-blooded man and one with no hang-ups after all, and that was good news. For a while, Hudson had feared that Otis might have been the victim of some sort of sexual abuse or at least harassment in his past, but his desire had been real and natural, with nothing of the feverish need or its opposite, the revulsion that stemmed from the mere possibility of the act. Those were the two sides of the same coin he had noticed in people who had gone through such horrible events in their lives.