summary: At his first office job, Hudson learns that Connie from admin is a great baker and that her favourite diner lunch-spot serves a mean burger, all of which has a (*ahem*) big effect on his performance.
a silly connieverse wg fic that felt too niche for ao3 so iāll be posting it on tumblr in three or four parts instead, for the sake of the like five perverts i think might enjoy it lol
Hudson smooths down the front of his shirt and straightens his tie. The woman behind the reception desk shoots him a mildly sympathetic glance. He knows he looks like heās pretty much fresh from college, with his slightly babyish face, but he in fact graduated three years ago, thank you very much. Since then, heās done a bit of travelling, a bit of goofing around living at his parentsā, a bit of working in restaurants and bars. But this is his first, real, office job. So yeah, heās a little nervous.
Itās like he blinks and sheās suddenly in front of him - a tall, striking woman, curly hair cut short, her face all elegant cheekbones, a discreet gold necklace glinting at the base of her throat. Sheās incredibly, heart-stoppingly hot. And she must, at a conservative estimate, be at least 15 years older than him.
He stares up at her, and then, a beat too late, jumps to his feet.
Her smile is small but genuine - and slightly amused.
āWelcome, weāre so thrilled to have you joining us. Iām Connie.ā
She sticks out a hand for him to shake. Her grip is firm, and heās worried his palm is too clammy.
āConnie,ā he repeats. āLike Constance?ā
She purses her lips ever so slightly as she gives him a quick once over, eyes flicking up and down over his suit - the cheapest one they had at the menswear store.
āYes,ā she says. āBut unless youāre my mother, you can call me Connie, ok, young man?ā
She turns to the receptionist, gives her a wink.
āThanks, Bianca, Iāve got him from here.ā
Connie gives him the tour. Everyone seems to light up with a smile when she passes, she peppers him with names and facts and jokes about all the people she introduces him to, and by the time they end up in her office, heās feeling a little overwhelmed.
They go through his induction paperwork. Itās a warm spring day, the aircon a little lacklustre, so Hudsonās soon removed his jacket. Connie keeps hers for a little longer - a grey pinstripe number, form fitting around her narrow waist and with 80s-style padding at the shoulders - but eventually, she too undoes the buttons and slides it off. And Hudsonās mouth literally falls open, because what the fuck.
Like heās pretty sure that wasnāt padding in the jacket at all, that was all her. She looks like she could pick him up, all 200 well-muscled pounds of him, and pin him against the wall and -
Connie is looking at him with that little mildly-amused smile again.
āYour momās phone number,ā she prompts. āFor the emergency contact.ā
āRight.ā His mouth is desperately dry; it comes out as more of a croak. āMom - I mean, um, my mom, sheās onā¦ā
And thereās frankly some pretty dangerous wires being crossed here, the word mom, the way Connieās arms look, how hot Hudsonās getting under the collar of his shirt.
And when he jerks off later, he tries very, very hard not to think about it too much.
The first few months are a bit of a blur. It turns out heās good at sales - satisfyingly good. Heās got the right mix of charm and earnestness to pull it off, and clients love him, especially, he notes, the older women, and the older men of a certain⦠persuasion.
He sees Connie around the office occasionally, although much less than heād like. Thereās one day theyāre both in the break room, making coffee. The other sales guys are there too, a little too loud, calling him Big Hud as theyāve taken to doing, and when they pile back to their desks, leaving him and Connie alone, she looks at him.
Hudsonās tongue feels big and heavy, clumsy forming words.
āYeah, um, itās stupid. Itās like a nickname.ā
āWell, Hudson,ā she says, the slightest emphasis on his full name, both syllables. āIām glad to see youāre settling in.ā
His next time in her office is the week before the annual company retreat. Nothing fancy, a hotel a few hours out of town in pretty countryside with a spa and a pool. But each team needs someone onboarded as a health and safety lead, and he volunteers for sales.
As soon as he comes in, she points to a tin on her desk.
āBrownies,ā she says. āHelp yourself.ā
He takes one - itās gooey and delicious.
āYou made these?ā he says with his mouth full, which earns him a slightly reproving look. He swallows before adding, āTheyāre amazing.ā
As she talks him through the handbook, his eyes keep drifting back over to the tin, to the tempting thought of more chocolatey goodness.
āHave another one,ā Connie says. āIf you want.ā
He can feel a blush, warm across his cheeks, at the fact sheās caught him looking.
āOh,ā he says. āReally, I shouldnāt. Iāve kinda been putting on a few.ā
Itās true - all these months of days spent sitting at a desk and evenings spent eating takeout after getting home too tired to cook havenāt done his waistline any favors. To emphasise the point, he pats his stomach, the slight layer of soft fat where he used to have defined abs.
Connie looks at him, head slightly tilted. She pushes the tin across the desk.
āHudson,ā she says. āHave another brownie.ā
It must be her tone that does it. A little stern, the level stare. He finds himself obeying almost before heās had time to think about it.
āGood,ā she says. Which might be a question - is it good? - or might be a statement - heās been good, having another like he clearly wanted to.
āYeah,ā he says, because he feels like he canāt look at the idea of the latter directly or heāll combust. āReally good. Thanks.ā
They finish the induction and she sends him back to his desk with three more. He intends to hand them out, or at least save them for tomorrow. By the time heās ready to go home, heās eaten them all.
One day, heās walking to his usual sandwich spot for lunch when he sees Connie in the window of a diner. Sheās wearing a sleeveless blouse silk blouse that shows off every ridge of muscle on those fucking arms and shoulders, reading a book, and he is literally stopped in his tracks. He stares; he knows heās staring, itās getting creepy, but then she looks up and she smiles - really smiles, with teeth, and his heart stutters. She beckons him inside.
āHudson,ā she says, as he slides into the booth opposite her. āHave you eaten? Iām just about to order.ā
āOh.ā He feels a little flustered. āUm, you donāt have to - I mean, I didnāt mean to disturb you on your break.ā
She waves a hand. āDonāt be silly, itās nice to have the company.ā
Thereās a waitress coming over, and Hudson looks around for a menu, sees none.
āI, um.ā He knows heās blushing, but the way sheās looking at him, it seems like she might find it a little bit cute. āIāll have what youāre having.ā
āOh no, that wonāt do,ā she says. āYou donāt want my measly little salad.ā She turns to the waitress. āIāll have my usual. Heāll have the burger and fries.ā She shoots Hudson a sideways look, assessing. āAnd a milkshake too. Heās got a sweet tooth.ā
Hudson thinks he might actually die.
By some miracle, he manages to keep up a conversation as they wait for the food. He even manages to relax into it a little - sheās warm and funny and easy to talk to, a great source of office gossip, like how Nadine and Ksenia in marketing are both going for the same promotion and how Robbie, the new guy in IT, says Frankie in finance keeps calling him out for the stupidest computer problems, like one time when his battery just needed charging.
Hudonās milkshake arrives first, and he drinks it a little too quickly, because Connie is right, he really does have a sweet tooth, which is why his suit pants arenāt exactly getting any looser, meaning he already feels warm and sated by the time the waitress sets down his ridiculously large burger and mountain of fries.
Jesus, he thinks, but manages not to say aloud.
He takes the first bite under Connieās gaze.
āFuck,ā he says. Then claps a hand over his mouth. āOh, Iām sorry.ā
Connieās laugh is loud and bright.
āIāve heard worse in my time, young man,ā she says. āIām not your mother. You can curse all you want.ā
āWell then,ā he says. āFuck me, this is good.ā
āMm,ā Connie says. āI thought youād like it.ā
He does like it, probably a little too much, seeing as when he first saw the quantity of food on the plate he told himself he couldnāt possibly eat all of it, and before he knows where he is, heās chewing on the last of his fries.
The fullness hits him all at once. He leans back against the booth and takes a breath. Damn. He canāt help putting a hand on his stomach, feeling how round it is, a visible bulge under his shirt. Heās eaten far too much for a lunch in the middle of a work day, and he feels heavy and sleepy and not at all enamoured by the idea of having to go back to his desk.
āGreat burger, isnāt it?ā Connie asks.
āYeah.ā Hudson has to muffle a belch behind his hand. āFilling though.ā
Her eyes slide surreptitiously down to his middle, then back up to his face.
āYou know, Hudson, I come out here for lunch most days. Itās nice to get out of the office. Feel free to join any time.ā
And the fluttery feeling inside when she says this is briefly enough to overwhelm all other sensations like the overfullness of his stomach or the tightness of his pants.
āYeah,ā he says. āYeah, Iād like that.ā