in confidence

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:.

There was one real rule to underaged drinking: spend enough money and no one asked a question. Especially at a restaurant like this where people were eating for culture. The quick jerk away of his hand from Taylor’s was a surprising stab at his heart. His face went slightly hot for a moment, until he was following Taylor’s gaze to the couple in the corner. He wondered for a moment if Taylor was deep down desiring what they had, but from how he had jerked his hand away, it was evident that this wasn’t where that was going. Just because they couldn’t keep their hands off each other when alone didn’t mean that they were destined to be together. A large part of him, larger than what was tucked away in his designer jeans, told him that Taylor didn’t want this. But they were both still staring at the couple that obviously loved one another. And Hudson was missing the feel of Taylor’s hand as soon as it had been jerked away from him. “Where is that wine?”, he asked, a small chuckle escaping him.

There wasn’t any easy explanation as to why Taylor was the way he was; it could be that he was so obsessed with keeping up the image of being at the top of the pack-- a bad boy who didn’t conform and therefore didn’t adopt meaningful relationships. Such an explanation would suggest that his aversion to feelings was a façade (which, technically speaking, it was, but that wasn’t yet a true fact for Tay himself). Another explanation might suggest that this simply was how Taylor existed, with no real desire for affection, operating only in the capacity of instant gratification and physical pleasures. A primal existence, but valid nonetheless. As blue-eyed boy watched the couple across the room, he wondered what their motivations were, why they decided to trust each other, and whether it was a conscious decision or something beyond active decision-making. Realizing he was zoned out, Taylor blinked and adjusted himself in the seat. “Hudson,” he cleared his throat. “How do you have your money?” he asked rather directly.

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Hudson wondered if Taylor realized that he was only nineteen. The waiter didn’t linger or ask for ID, though, so Hudson just kept his trap shut. “A nice cab will pair really well with steak,” Hudson agreed, smiling across the table at the beautiful boy. Hudson wasn’t sure why it had been easier to fuck him thrice, holding him down into his expensive sheets as the sun peeked through the window, like a killer through the curtain, than it was to sit here out at dinner with him. Maybe because Taylor had been so begrudging about them spending non-sexual time together. Hudson liked sex just as much as the next guy, but sex with feelings? That shit was next level. Biting at his bottom lip, he slowly reached across the table, taking Taylor’s hand and holding it gently, letting his thumb trace the veins as he stared at him. “I’m really glad you let me take you to dinner,” Hudson admitted, eyeing the curls that the other boy had just shoved fingers through, “and I love your hair so much.”

Tay was willing to gamble on the bottle of wine. He had a fake ID, and he kind of assumed that Hudson was above the age of twenty-one. He doubted that the server would ask for verification, though, because seizing the opportunity to sell an extravagantly priced bottle of wine probably seemed tempting. Once again, Tay’s eyes were rummaging around the room to look at people’s faces. In the corner, a couple who seemed intimately fond of each other, by the looks of their faces. Taylor didn’t notice Hudson reaching for his hand until he felt it, and he quickly jerked it away. “What are you doing?” he demanded. “Holding hands? That’s not happening.” He folded his hands in his lap, glaring at the boy opposite him. He was beginning to think this was a mistake. Not only was he afraid of Hudson becoming endeared with him, but he knew in the back of his dense mind that there was the potential to become endeared with Hudson as well, and so eliminating any action that could possibly lead to that result was at the forefront of his thoughts. “Yeah, well...I like eating, and I don’t like cooking, so long as you’re paying I think it’s a sweet deal.” He ignored the comment about his hair, looking away from Hudson toward the corner couple again.

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Hudson made a mental note to tattoo the game schedule on the back of his eyelids. He’d be there, despite his hatred of the cold, probably waving a team flag, bundled in a team hoodie, because Hudson was present when it came to important things. He was, unlike his father, a man that showed up. “Oh, that sounds good,” Hudson said with a click of his tongue as Taylor ordered expensive. The one good thing about his dad was that he didn’t look over his credit card statements. It was a very money over love relationship, and in this moment, he was thankful for it. “Is that Kobe beef?”, he asked the waiter, smiling at him, keeping eye contact. His mother never looked at waiters. That always had bothered him. “I’ll get that too…. Mixed greens and a sweet potato on the side and…,” Hudson eyed Taylor, blue eyes hitting blue eyes again, “appetizer? Drinks?”

“...an expensive bottle of wine,” Taylor picked up where his company left off, finally looking up at the server rather than staring down Hudson. “Red. Everything else-- year, location-- is up to your choice.” Seeing an eyebrow quirk on the server’s face, Tay smirked. “He’s paying,” he explained with a nod toward Hudson. Once the server left, a hand messed up his curls and he leaned back in his chair. “I figured if we are having steak we might as well have wine.”

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Taylor mentioned an interest in Quebec and Hudson had to bite his tongue not to plan a weekend trip right there and then. Why did angry boys have this effect on him? Something about that flame burning bright enough to burn made Hudson just want to flame it. His tongue hurt, but it stayed between his teeth as Taylor mentioned the sociopolitical repercussions of hockey, something that wasn’t covered in quick trivia format. Hudson had asked for sparkling water and he was regretting it now as the bubbles threatened to clog his throat up as he drank too fast. “I’m interested in… you,” Hudson admitted, biting his bottom lip and regretting what sounded as a come on, despite it being anything but. “I’d like… to watch you play, I mean,” Hudson corrected himself, hands folding upon the table, posture perfect as he eyed the slightly slouching boy. They were very different people, but something about that fact dragged Hudson in like a moth to a spitfire.

“Mm,” Taylor hummed, though it was clear that he didn’t buy Hudson’s quick cover-up. “Well, lucky for you we are in the middle of the season, so we play all the time. And it’s not like the games are private. Can’t really stop you from catching one, even if I wanted to.” He didn’t want to, to be clear, however it was important that Hudson think that Taylor didn’t necessarily care whether he was at his matches. It was all part of the same charade to keep Hudson at arm’s length so that Taylor could always make a quick exit if the need arose. When the time came to give their orders, Tay commanded one of the more expensive cuts of steak on the menu, eyeing Hudson straight-on as he did so.

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Taylor’s drinking was starting to make Hudson’s drinking look amateurish at best. He could only keep up with clear liquors, though, the Jack Daniels still burnt in his belly during the car ride in which they exchanged body heat. It had all started innocently enough, but these things always did. Hands touched hands, then teeth clashed, mouths battling it out for dominance, even though they both knew who would win in the end. Hudson was glad he had found the closest Michelin starred restaurant that didn’t look like a freakish venture into molecular gastronomy. Hudson was a Spanish-American classic, and as such he had chosen classic American fare, no fusion, just white table clothes, and plenty of protein for growing boys, straight class.

Hudson was tickled pink at how Taylor looked across a candlelit table. Shaking his head no, Hudson fingered a menu. “This is actually my first foray into fine dining since I moved to the city,” Hudson admitted, biting back the fact that it was also his first ever actual date with another boy. He barely knew anything about the other boy, and Hudson was starting to realize that as he searched his brain for things to talk about. Literature seemed like a no go, and working out was too bro-y, but hockey. Hudson had searched Youtube for Jeopardy hockey compilations ever since their first night together. Three passionate, shared orgasms dictated that Hudson learn all about Taylor’s non-bedroom passions. “Did you know that the first ever goal in NHL history was scored by Montreal Wanderers defenseman Dave Ritchie in 1917? Tragically, their rink was burnt down in a mysterious fire and they were unable to finish their season,” Hudson cooed out like a computer with down to the letter accuracy and a click of his tongue.  

Taylor was a little mad that they went to such a restaurant while he was dressed as he was, and it showed in his prickly attitude. Arms were crossed at his chest at times, or he’d shoot an annoyed look at Hudson at other times. “Why the fuck do you know that?” was his response to the other male’s trivia fact. Tay didn’t memorize who made what shots (most of the time, but there are exceptions), so such a detail like the player, team, and year was a bit beyond his recollection capabilities. He had, however, heard of the Wanderers. “There’s some interesting history there in Montreal,” he mumbled, again crossing his arms. “They had two teams for a while, and it stemmed from the political attitudes between the english people and the french people there.” His eyes, once looking at the menu, lifted toward Hudson again. “Are you interested in Hockey?” he asked with clear doubt in his tone.

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

If kisses could work to convince, then this was the proof. Because one kiss had Taylor arguing, and the second had him agreeing in that signature tone of his. A hand slipped up his tightly cropped tank, and Hudson didn’t even care if it would stretch it out. Taylor’s touch was worth much more than any fashion that hugged against his body and culled his anxiety enough to make him feel like a million bucks. A hand squeezed throat, his other went to the curly mop, petting through it softly as they kissed and breathed through each other’s mouths. Their foreheads pressed together, and Hudson let his thumb slowly trace the unbelievable plush lips. “Just let me put some clothes on,” Hudson said softly, glancing back at the perfectly adequate outfit Taylor had brought him back. “You look… perfect,” he said, despite Taylor’s more casual fashion sense. Getting off of his knees, Hudson pulled off the tank, stripped off the short shorts, and stood in front of the boy in the recliner in nothing but his Gucci briefs as he pulled his clothes on, hoping he could smell Taylor on them. Maybe part of him was scared that Taylor would dart off if he headed back to his bedroom to put a fresh outfit on.

As they breathed words into each other’s lips, Tay’s icy eyes bore into those of Hudson’s, softer oceanic pools. He was holding lust within him, a lust sparked by strong memories, growing stronger with the electric kiss just shared between them. He watched the beautiful male pull away and begin to strip down, and Taylor waited, muscles coiled, as though he would pounce on Hudson at the very moment that the boy was at his least-clothed. He didn’t though, watching with teeth digging into his bottom lip as the exposed skin began to be covered once more. He stood up, helping himself to not only the rest of his whiskey, but finishing off the amber liquid that Hudson had left in his glass.

-time jump-

Tay’s mind was still lingering on the car ride as they were seated at their table. It hadn’t been like the one they had when first going to Hudson’s place. Rather than silent, with Taylor looking out the window, the two had been palming each other’s bodies, lips rarely disconnecting from one another, and both needed to take a second before exiting the car to allow the indentation at the front of their pants to settle. “Been here before?” Taylor asked as he glanced around to observe the expensive clothing on just about everyone, save for Taylor himself.

[itsvicksen]

luckylikelinusrp·:

“Hey, heated seats can be expensive. Not everyone can spring for them, even if they want to. I’m excited to see how your motorcycle holds up on the street-” Linus said cheerfully. 

“Yeah, that’s what this little doohickey thing here is for-” he said as he put on the little leather strap on the leather jacket that popped it across his neck. “See! Nice and safe now. Won’t lose my head on the ride-” he grinned.

“I guess,” Tay shrugged, “but that sort of thing hasn’t ever been a problem for me.” He waited for the taller man to make a showy display of simply covering up the exposed skin on his neck. “Alright, let’s hit it.’

[itsvicksen]

alecxcarter·:

“Come on, lad.” Alec couldn’t help but smirked a little, “Ye can come right back out here once ye put on somethin’ dry.” He reached out with a hand and ruffled the man’s hair a little, “Ye can catch a cold, ye know. Especially with how cold New Year Eve can be.”

Alec gestured behind him, pointed toward the direction of his apartment over his shoulder with a thumb. “Like I said, it’s not far.”

“Name’s Alec, by the way. Nice to meet ye, lad.”

If the champagne incident wasn’t bad enough, the fiery young athlete found himself on wits-end when his hair was ruffled. “Don’t-” he warned, pretending to smooth out the already-messy brown curls. “Mhm,” Tay muttered, not actually taking note of the name very solidly within his memory. Something with an A. Alex, or Allan, or something. “I’m Taylor. I live around here as well, but that’s not my place we were out in front of, just a friend’s.” 

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Hudson wasn’t sure how to respond, because while Taylor’s mouth said one thing, his eyes said another. Mainly in the way that they didn’t look into his own as he spoke. Hudson wished he could just turn it off, turn it all off, turn off the way that looking into Taylor’s eyes made not only his designer briefs swell, but his heart as well. Fingers pressed into the back of Taylor’s long, slender neck, massaging at it, eyeing his lips, eyeing anything but those Goddamn eyes; he could drown in those eyes. “Cut the crap?”, Hudson repeated, an eyebrow quirking up. “No crap…. I promise. No feelings. Just… steak and potatoes. Or… lobster if you’re fancy. Or surf and turf if you’re just using me,” Hudson chuckled at his own little joke. “Of course, if it’s just pleasure you’re looking for…,” Hudson shrugged, “…I think we had a pretty damn good night last week. I don’t usually do this… I mean… asking someone out…. Don’t let that go to your pretty head, though.” Hudson was still holding Taylor’s neck like he was fragile, and in an attempt to show that he could be close to him without catching feelings, he leaned up again, this time kissing Taylor with great force.

Taylor had to admit that the way Hudson was holding onto him reminded him a lot of the other night, enough to cause a mild stir in his pants and a flush to creep up his collar. He was determined, though, not to give in, and the whiskey had strengthened his will substantially. He listened to the male’s words with a dubious scowl cemented on his delicate, Hellenic-statue-like features. When Hudson kissed him, it wasn’t out-of-the-blue this time, and Tay’s mouth parted slightly. It seemed like every time Hudson tried to kiss him, the second time was the charm; the first always got some kind of stern rebuff. He tasted those familiar lips, allowing a hand to unfold from his lap and feel the strong chest beneath the apron. “Fine,” Tay murmured against Hudson’s lips, in between kissing and breathing. “Buy me dinner. But don’t think I’ll owe you anything for it.”

[ass-is-life]

Merry Christmas You filthy animals!

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Hudson’s heart sank a little at the words. Not because that was where he wanted the kiss to go, but more because Taylor assumed that was where he wanted the kiss to go. Hudson’s hands were still on the shorter boy’s face as he spoke, feeling how his face flushed from the kiss, or maybe it was just from the booze. Either way, the cheeks warm, so Hudson let his hands drop, falling down to his strong neck, squeezing at his shoulders. He wanted to argue. He wanted to press the boy back into the recliner and paw all over him like he belonged to him, but he didn’t, so Hudson controlled himself.

“Let me take you out,” Hudson breathed, wanting Taylor to know that he could forget their night together if there was a possibility of spending more time with him, anymore time, even time with both their clothes on. “Let me to take you dinner,” Hudson pleaded, on his knees, thumbing along his jawline, holding at the back of his neck, and staring up into his icy eyes like he was trying to melt his heart with his ocean blue ones, like icebergs drowning themselves in the ever growing hotter sea. “Just… one dinner. Give me a chance,” Hudson whispered softly, sweetly. 

Tay watched as Hudson visibly deflated. His eyes dulled from the sparkle they carried moments before, his hands sank away from Tay’s face and onto his neck. He shifted uncomfortably, knowing the next few moments were going to be very difficult for both of them, though after years of training he suspected he would be hurt less than the other. He let out a small puff of air through his lips, glancing down at his lap, hands folded there. “No,” his pitchy voice sounded as he stared at his hands. “No, I don’t do that.” Brown curls lifted so that he could watch Hudson carefully, hoping there wouldn’t be hurt in his eyes. “I like a bit of pleasure every now and then, like every fuckin’ guy out there.” He was already trying to justify himself, and his words were a hint as to why he hadn’t texted the past week. “If I had to guess what’s going to happen, it’s that you’ll catch feelings or whatever, and I won’t,” he lied. “And I think it would save us both the trouble if we cut the crap.”

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Hudson tried not to let the shock show on his face as Taylor apologized and headed for the door, maybe to run. But no, he returned, shoes off, cute crew cut socks sliding across the floor like he was walking the green mile, headed down death row to his end. It was cute, really, watching Taylor’s response to the tension and an alleviation of the usually pounding anxiety that made his brain throb and his palms sweat. Hudson would watch Taylor do anything, and he watched as he finished his drink, and without a word, Hudson was back on his feet, grabbing the frosty bottle of Jack Daniels off of the marble kitchen island, and returning to fill both their glasses in an attempt to wash away any type of weirdness that still went unspoken between him and the other boy.

Hudson was standing still, setting down the bottle on the glass coffee table, staring at Taylor, wanting to touch him, wanting to hold him, wanting to undress him, rub his back, rub his neck, rub his feet. Anything to make him push closer to him and make his mouth fall open like it had when he was under him and blissed out on their mutually met high. Hudson sucked at his bottom lip, before he found himself on his knees in front of Taylor. With their respectful heights, they were almost face to face now, Taylor’s face just a head above his own. Hands reached out, gently cupping his face, before he was leaning up and forward, chastely stealing another kiss from him.

Taylor watched with a bit of satisfaction that Hudson was so ready to refill his glass. As soon as it had been topped off, Tay picked it up again as a sort of buffer. He wanted to be holding something in case Hudson got closer, but he also wanted more liquor, as much as it would take to make him feel more confident, more at ease in what was, for him, a stressful situation. He took a few more gulps, leaving just a bit left in the bottom of the glass before he set it back down. Hudson still hovered over him, though, standing stalk-still. Tay shifted a bit, apprehensive about what was going to happen next. As predicted, Hudson knelt down before him, and Tay took in a small inhale of breath just in time for their lips to meet. After the last night they were together, Hudson’s lips felt intimately familiar to Taylor. He knew how the other kissed, when there would or wouldn’t be tongue, and the cute way that he tended to hold Tay’s face in his hands when he wanted the kiss to be more personal. The shorter boy broke the kiss, however, soon after it began. “I don’t think we should,” he asserted. “We should leave it where it was.”

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Maybe Hudson had sat there, manspreading in a domineering fashion, just to remind Taylor of their night together. It had been beautiful, watching Taylor’s face as he came from being fucked, but what was more beautiful was falling asleep with him. Hudson didn’t like sleeping alone, his bed was too big for just him, and hugging pillows was nothing like wrapping his arms around a hot body. He watched Taylor drink, watched his throat as the liquor slide down it, and his Adam’s apple as it bobbed. Then blue eyes found blue eyes, and Hudson clicked his tongue, face slightly flushing just as his sound was made. Nerves were clear, and he wondered if Taylor noticed.

He had been on his way to the gym, but he’d rather be here, alone with Taylor. That was just something that he would never say. “No, no,” Hudson started, sipping at the bitter, burning liquor, letting the amber dance down his throat. “I don’t drink and lift, so,” Hudson chuckled, swirling the liquor in the tumbler, staring down into it for a moment like he was trying to read the whiskey like some people read tea leaves. It didn’t tell a thing, though, so he sat the glass down. If only the anxiety activated bravery would come again, and he’d steal another soft kiss. Part of him told him that Taylor didn’t want that, though, so he just sat there, staring at the boy who was still standing, still in his shoes, still in his jacket, like he was ready to run.

“Oh, sorry,” Tay said, once his head had fallen down and he noticed he was still wearing his shoes. “Right.” He shuffled over to the door and kicked them off. Despite his deep-seated desire to dash through the door, he knew that Hudson wanted shoes off, and he was going to oblige, at least until he finished his drink. And, perhaps after he made Hudson get him another. In his white socks, Taylor returned to the room but sat in the armchair next to the couch where the other lounged. He honestly wasn’t sure to say. Hudson didn’t seem to want to call him on his bullshit, and he certainly wasn’t about to bring it up himself. Perhaps they would just sit with tension between them until the end of time. Tay fought his desire to climb onto the male’s lap like he had done, mingled with a desire to strip off those short shorts, and further mixed with the desire to kiss Hudson sweetly like they had done in the street, with his hand brushing his cheek and snow falling over their heads. While Hudson swirled his drink, Taylor downed the rest of his in an attempt to eliminate such a slurry of desires, setting the empty crystal on the coffee table before him. Perhaps Hudson would get the message.

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Taylor said he couldn’t stay, but he was picking up the borrowed clothes and following him right in like a little lost puppy dog. Hudson fixed Taylor a double, knowing that the single had disappeared quickly last time. It was too early to drink, but he poured himself one too. Taylor’s eyes were on him, and he noticed it. How those icy blues trailed over his strong thighs, his prominent bulge, and his muscular ass. And he liked it, and was glad he had been on the gym. He probably would have never seen Taylor again if he had gone ten minutes earlier or ten minutes later. It was as if it was meant to be.

“Hey, no skin off my teeth,” Hudson retorted, not sounding wounded, despite that weird feel in the bottom of his abdomen that was like a blade being twisted into his guts. It was a feeling he didn’t really have words for, so he wouldn’t express. His mother had once told him when he complained about anxiety before he had a word for it that ‘every pain needed a name’, and until Hudson could define this, he wouldn’t be able to speak it. Carrying the drinks to the couch where this had all started, Hudson took his seat, the same seat as he had taken during their night together, and set down both tumblers full of whiskey. “I’m glad to see you, though…,” Hudson admitted.

Taylor knew he was in dangerous territory at this point. It had been easy to avoid Hudson when they were represented by nothing more than a phone number, but hearing the male’s sweet honey voice, seeing their strong, tall frame, and those ocean eyes, was all a different story. The way he saw it, he could make a break for it, with no excuse given. Hudson probably couldn’t track him down, and there were no borrowed clothes to return that would entail any further involvement. Or, Tay could stay for a drink, have a nice chat, and be on his way on a friendly note. The only other scenario Taylor could picture between the two of them was another several rounds of intense, steaming, passionate fucking. The thought might have peaked Tay’s interest down south, but what few brain cells he had operating knew that that was a bad idea.

Taking the drink, Taylor nodded thanks. His hand gripped the crystal and he immediately took a couple gulps, letting the fiery substance warm his chest and fill him with liquid courage, as it so reliably did every time. “Um,” Taylor looked around the somewhat familiar apartment, taking in its fine features. “You look like you’re dressed for the gym,” he commented, “I hope I didn’t interrupt you.”

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Hudson wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t. It was strange, missing someone you had spent only one night with: half of it fighting, the other half fucking. Hudson didn’t usually think about people he had hooked up with, unless they were friends first, and Taylor was right. They weren’t friends. He shouldn’t be calling him Tay. He shouldn’t have called him beautiful thrice, either. It had just came so naturally to Hudson, and he was anything if not honest to a fault. Taylor was beautiful when he wasn’t forcing his face to be sour and his words to be unkind.

“Sorry,” Hudson replied without an ounce of sharpness to his tone, “Taylor. Hey, Taylor.” Hudson had wanted to say beautiful again, but somehow it was a lot easier when his cock was hard and in Taylor’s throat. Hudson’s big bed had felt extra empty lately. Maybe that was due to him staying up too late, staring at his phone like he kept expecting a ‘hey’ or an ass pic or a middle finger emoji and a quick blocking from the pretty boy whose face had gone pink as he opened the door.

Hudson wanted to kick off his trainers, hang up his jacket, and pull Taylor right in and hold him tight, so tight that he couldn’t flee like he was so prone to do. “Come in,” Hudson asked instead, worrying his lower lip, “I’ll make you a Jack… no rocks.” And then, he did slide off his jacket, hanging it up, and eyeing the neatly folded pile of his own clothes, wanting to put them on over his gym clothes, if just to see if they smelled like Taylor now.

Taylor fully expected Hudson to rage on him, to contort his face as it had done in the coffee shop when his voice raised, and say something about how inconsiderate it was that Tay had ducked out even though Hudson had taken the time to make breakfast for two, or how shitty Tay was for not texting him even once after they had fucked three times in a single night, sweaty and tired bodies falling instantly asleep somewhere close to four in the morning. Instead, Hudson just corrected his words with no bitterness to his voice, despite the venom that clearly lined Tay’s. It would have been easier to walk away if Hudson had gotten mad back. But, Hudson never made it easier. 

“I can’t stay,” were the words Tay decided upon, but they fell on deaf ears. The door was left open and Hudson was already in the kitchen, fixing the exact drink Tay had taken many nights ago. The shorter male entered slowly, bringing with him the returned clothes. Eyes flicked down to Hudson’s shorts which showed off one of the boy’s many assets. Biting his lip, Taylor set the package of clothes on the couch. “Sorry I haven’t been in touch. Busy,” he said weakly, and he knew it sounded just as shitty of an excuse to him as it did to Hudson. 

[model--behavior]

they looked better on you, anyway

closed for @itsvicksen​

Hudson hadn’t been sure why Taylor had never texted him, or called him. Their night together had been complicated, but beautiful in it’s own fucked up kind of way. Taylor had looked on good on his knees, but he looked better when drifting off to sleep wrapped in his arms with his black, silk sheets hugged around them both. Hudson didn’t just make breakfast for anyone, either way. 

He’d gotten dressed up for the gym in his short short shorts and his cropped tank, jacket hanging open over it, and was ready to go. When he opened the door, however, he was greeted by the curly mopped boy kneeling before his door, setting down the pile of clothes he had loaned him, obviously not here to stay or even say hi, but Hudson would say it. “Hey, Tay…,” he breathed, scratching at the back of his head awkwardly, standing before him all tall, maybe just trying to look tough so he didn’t seem vulnerable. 

[itsvicksen]

Taylor did his best to stay away. He was a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy, and although he wasn’t opposed to having a consistent friend with benefits, he didn’t feel like he was capable of the emotional discipline it would require to remain platonic with someone like Hudson. Someone who seemed to have more layers to him, beyond a giant cock. Taylor hadn’t texted or called Hudson since they saw each other, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t wear the other’s clothes once or twice, for nothing more than to sit around the house alone, while not actually feeling quite so alone. After some time, he realized he should probably return Hudson’s clothes.

It was a good thing that Taylor had been to Hudson’s apartment before, so that he could just drop them by without needing to use the phone number. He wanted to remain hidden in the anonymity of the broader Chicago population. Walking up the stairs with the brown paper-wrapped clothes in hand, Taylor began to doubt whether he remembered Hudson’s house number accurately. It made him a little uneasy, the notion of having to call the male after all beginning to turn into a real possibility. Whatever the case, the reality turned out worse than Tay’s imagination ever could have pictured; the Man himself opened the door just as Tay was setting the clothes down and was going to make a break for it. He froze, face immediately turning a violent shade of pink, having been caught in the act. Taking a breath, he stood up to face the taller man, head tilted a few degrees upwards to meet their taller gaze. “I told you,” he said, doing his best to summon the same spice that his voice usually carried, “only my friends call me Tay.”

[itsvicksen]

model--behavior·:

Hudson understood obligation to a team, to a captain, to a coach. He had spent his entire life in sports, and he wasn’t about to argue with the icey blue eyed boy that was wearing his clothes. God, did he want to argue, though. To keep Taylor around if only for another ten minutes for them to enjoy breakfast together, and maybe for him to steal a few more kisses and squeezes to his ass. “I could… roll it all into a tortilla for you…. Breakfast burrito to go?”, Hudson offered with a friendly smile. It was a compromise, one he wasn’t entirely sure about making, because it still meant Taylor leaving. A nervous little click of his tongue, and Hudson was already trying to buy more time with him. “You know… after practice… you could come back,” Hudson offered, pulling out his phone, and airdropping his number to Taylor. “That’s… my number,” the former soccer star breathed, hands on counter as he leaned beneath the cabinets and above the counter top to stare at the pretty boy.

Lying that he had practice didn’t sit well with Taylor. This was an unusual feeling, as he had no trouble lying to one-night stands in the past, but he figured it was simply guilt. After all, the circumstances of their meeting wasn’t the usual grindr hookup, and Taylor remembered how Hudson had tried so hard to conceal the title of his book. Perhaps he had let himself get a little too close to someone who might be vulnerable in the realm of casual intercourse. The click of Hudson’s tongue furthered the emotional conflict within the shorter male, familiar with the signal by now. Tay did his best to steel his face as he heard his phone notification go off. A message containing the phone number that would never be used. “Thanks, Hudson,” he said, pulling on his shoes that had remained by the door all night. “I do have to go, though. This was fun.” Hand on the door knob, Taylor flicked one last wave Hudson’s way, with the most distant, casual note of “Later!”