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Wearing a skirt was something that Hudson had secretly wanted to try for years.
The first time he remembers getting the desire was at his cousin’s birthday party: She turned five and the party was princess themed, of course. Hudson, at the sweet age of seven, had been extremely jealous of his girl cousins. They all got to wear princess dresses, meanwhile Hudson didn’t have a costume at all. There hadn’t been any for princes. He had felt left outside.
Of course, he hadn’t thought about it like that back then. He just wanted to belong.
But then there had been a few art projects over his teenage years that had allowed him to explore a little, and Hudson had known. It just felt right, the loose fabric hanging around his legs and letting him breathe in ways that pants never did. But still, for whatever stupid reason, it had always stayed behind closed doors. For whatever stupid reason, he had never done it in public.
Until now.
Hudson is standing in the middle of the hotel room with his new outfit on, staring at himself in the giant mirror. His hair is a styled mess, the leather jacket is heavy and adorned with silvery details, and below that, wrapped around his waist, is a black skirt, the hem just right above his knees.
Hudson can’t help but smirk at his reflection. The outfit looks good. He looks good.
He sways in front of the mirror, studying his new look from every angle. He’s wearing a silky dark red top under the leather jacket, and while he does love the jacket, he knows he won’t be able to wear it for any longer than two seconds once he steps out of this hotel room and away from the world’s most wonderful invention called air conditioning. It’s almost 40 fucking degrees of Celsius outside. Hudson thinks he might die, but at least the silk feels nice on his skin.
He almost jumps when he hears a choked sound from the door.
Connor had been out for a couple of hours, saying he wanted to explore Paris – which was crazy, considering the temperature. As much as Hudson would’ve loved to join him, he had known better: If he stepped a foot outside now, he would literally melt, the only thing left of him a sweaty puddle in the middle of the street.
So Hudson had stayed in. Besides, he had wanted to try his new outfit in peace.
But now Connor is back, still standing awkwardly in the doorway. Hudson glances at him through the mirror. Connor’s eyes are fixed on his lower half, and Hudson chuckles.
“See something you like?”
His smile is light, his tone innocent, but as he turns around he catches Connor’s flushed face, sees him swallow.
Caught in 4K.
Connor doesn’t answer, and Hudson can barely cover a grin. He takes a few slow steps towards his friend, making sure he’s swaying his hips a little as he walks – enough to catch Connor’s attention but not too much to make it obvious.
Connor is still staring at him – well, the skirt – with wide eyes, his lips parted in surprise. He still hasn’t answered. It amuses Hudson. It’s not like he needs a verbal answer to figure out what Connor is thinking. He’s being transparent as a freshly washed window glass, and Hudson is going to make the most of it.
He slides the leather jacket off his shoulders and hears Connor gasp softly – as if it’s his first time seeing Hudson’s arms. Hudson grins. He takes a step closer and murmurs: “Connie, baby, I asked you a question. Do you like what you see?”
His voice is low, demanding, forcing Connor to look up with delicate power.
Connor’s face is burning red now. He’s biting his lower lip, his eyes wandering up and down Hudson’s body again, and then, slowly, he nods.
Hudson clicks his tongue.
He brings a finger under Connor’s chin, forcing him to look him in the eye.
“I didn’t quite catch that.”
His tone is sweet, like he isn’t talking to a man twice his size, and it sends a shiver down Connor’s spine. Something tugs at the bottom of his guts, and suddenly his throat feels a bit dry.
“Yes,” he manages to breathe out. Hudson chuckles, dragging his finger from Connor’s chin up to his mouth.
“What do you want?” he whispers, gently adding some pressure. Instinctively, Connor gives Hudson’s finger a small lick before replying.
“You.”
His lips are parted, and Hudson wastes no time as he slips two fingers in. Connor hums around them, his eyes fluttering close. He sucks on Hudson’s fingers with practiced ease, twirls his tongue around them, and soon enough Hudson decides he wants that mouth somewhere else.
“Get on your knees,” he commands, a little sharper than he intended, and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly Connor drops down on the hard hotel room floor. Hudson bites back a snicker. He lifts the hem of his skirt, and Connor’s eyes widen.
The floor’s not the only thing that’s hard.
“You’re… You’re not wearing any underwear,” Connor breathes out, not sure whether he should be shocked or pleasantly surprised. Hudson is, indeed, wearing nothing under the skirt, and his hard dick is now on full display for Connor.
Hudson laughs.
“Of course that’s the first thing you noticed.”
It’s mocking, and Connor can’t bring himself to reply. His cheeks are burning red, and Hudson scoffs.
“Looks like you’re getting turned on just from looking at my dick.”
He raises an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching in amusement as he continues: “Am I right? Does looking at my dick turn you on?”
A sound that’s terribly close to a whine escapes Connor’s throat. He’s sweaty, the grey tank top clinging to his skin, and the floor is starting to get a little uncomfortable under his knees. And yes, he’s extremely turned on by the sinful sight above him. The tightness in his shorts is getting more and more difficult to ignore with every passing second, and finally he groans: “Yes, Huddy, just please–”
“Someone’s impatient,” Hudson tuts, glancing down before he asks again: “Tell me what you want, baby.”
Connor shifts in his place.
“Want to suck you off,” he says quietly, his ocean eyes fixed on Hudson’s browns. “Please, Hudson, I need your cock in my mouth. Let me taste you.”
Hudson’s cock jerks at that. He hums, running his fingers through Connor’s damp curls.
Damn, it must really be hot outside.
“Look at you being such a good boy, asking for my attention like that.” Connor beams at the praise. “Now put that pretty mouth of yours into some good use and show me what it can do.”
Connor doesn’t need to be told twice. Without saying another word, he disappears under the hem of the skirt.
Hudson groans low when Connor gives his tip a small lick. He can’t see Connor’s face, but he can tell that the little shit is grinning. Hudson can’t help himself: he bucks his hips, and another slow lick makes a sigh escape his lips.
“Fucking tease,” he grunts, trying to grab a fistful of Connor’s hair but realizing soon enough that the skirt is blocking him. Connor just laughs before taking the head fully into his mouth. He lets his tongue slide around it, tasting Hudson all the way through, and then he relaxes his jaw and allows his mouth to take more.
Hudson lets out a shaky moan. His head dips back in pleasure, his fingers clawing at the table behind him as he tries to find something to cling onto. Connor is fully blowing him now, one hand on Hudson’s thigh while the other is gripping his ass, and Hudson fears his legs might give out.
A soft moan leaves Connor’s throat, vibrating around Hudson’s cock. He thrusts a little deeper, starting to create his own pace, and Connor has no chance but to adjust to this new, faster rhythm. He lets Hudson fuck into his mouth a bit more, a bit rougher, and he feels spit dripping down his chin. He does his best, trying to take all that Hudson is giving him, but he’s not as good at this as Hudson is so he gags a little when Hudson hits the back of his throat. His eyes fill with tears as the lack of oxygen is starting to affect him, but he doesn’t pull away.
“Oh, fuck,” Hudson growls when Connor moans around him again, making the knot twitch in his stomach.
“You’re so fucking good, taking my cock like that.”
His voice is raspy, his breathing getting unsteady, and Connor hums. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the effect he has on Hudson, and Hudson has no choice but to–
“Fuck, Connie, ‘m close,” he pants, and he can feel Connor smile before he takes Hudson deep, burying his nose into the neatly trimmed hair on his crotch. He stays there for a few seconds, focusing on breathing through his nose, before he pulls away, sucking one of Hudson’s balls into his mouth while his hand fumbles with the other one.
“Jesus, fuck–” It comes out as a broken moan. Connor almost giggles.
He takes Hudson’s tip back into his mouth, licking and sucking and twirling his tongue around it while his hands knead into the hard muscles on Hudson’s thighs, and it doesn’t take long until Hudson’s body jerks and he cums with a high moan. The warm, thick liquid lands on Connor’s tongue. He holds it there for a moment, savoring the taste, before he swallows.
Slowly, Hudson pulls out and lifts the hem of his skirt again, guiding Connor up so they can see each other.
Connor looks a mess. His eyes are wet from the tears he wasn’t quite able to keep in, his cheeks are hot and flushed, his lips red and swollen, his chin coated with saliva. Hudson leans closer to give his curls a few comforting strokes.
“You were so good for me, baby,” he murmurs, making Connor smile faintly.
Hudson then disappears for a moment, and when he returns he’s holding a bottle of water. Connor gives him a grateful smile. The heat is killing him, and his throat feels raw and dry after being used. Hudson hands him the bottle and watches him down it in a few big gulps. He smiles and squeezes Connor’s shoulder.
“Need anything else?”
Connor bites his lip, his eyes dancing on Hudson’s waist before he whispers: “Please.”
His arousal is killing him. He’s so hard in his shorts, probably leaking at this point, and he needs Hudson to help him with it. Sure, he could just jerk off in the bathroom, but it doesn’t feel appealing right now. He needs a real person. Needs his best friend in a way he probably shouldn’t, but it’s nothing they haven’t done before so…
“Nothing’s enough for you, huh?”
It’s a gentle chuckle, but Connor still blushes fiercely. His gaze drops to the floor, only for Hudson to grab his chin and make him look at him.
“Such a needy slut,” Hudson simply hums, and then they’re moving towards the bed. Connor swallows a pleased sound as his back hits the mattress. Hudson is standing in front of him, and Connor lets his gaze linger on his body before he wriggles out of his sweaty top. It lands on the floor at Hudson’s feet.
Connor’s hands find their way to the waistband of his shorts next, but Hudson is quick to react. He grabs Connor’s wrists, shaking his head, and Connor groans in protest.
“Let me do that for you.”
Hudson’s voice is sweet, almost too sweet, and Connor can barely stop himself from rolling his eyes. But then Hudson crawls onto the bed with him, placing kisses on his knees and thighs and stomach, and Connor’s mind goes blank.
Hudson is teasing him, being torturously slow with his movements, but finally Connor is naked and Hudson leans up to kiss his jaw.
“What do you want now?” he murmurs against the stubble, and the warm air of his breath makes Connor shiver. He bucks his hips a little, trying to bring Hudson’s attention down there, but Hudson is very good at ignoring his signals. Connor groans in frustration.
“You, fuck. I want you. Just touch me.”
Connor’s whine morphs into a deep sigh when Hudson’s hand wraps around his cock. He plays with the head with his thumb, smearing precum all over it, and it’s too much and very much not enough at the same time. Connor shudders hard, rolling his hips for more friction, but Hudson only laughs and draws his hand away.
The next thing Connor knows is a wet mouth on his nipple. He moans, shaky and uncontrolled, and his hand sinks into Hudson’s hair as a sign to keep going. He feels Hudson’s grin on his skin.
Quiet yes’s and pleases and oh gods flow from his mouth as Hudson keeps working on him. His hand is on Connor’s cock again, stroking slow, as his mouth is leaving faint marks all over Connor’s chest and neck. They can’t be too visible, they both know that, but Connor shivers at the thought nevertheless.
“Fuck, Huddy, I need to fuck you,” Connor curses after Hudson bites a particularly sensitive spot right above his collarbone. Hudson pulls back and lays a heavy gaze on him, eyebrows raised.
“I think you forgot something,” he says, an annoying smirk playing on his lips.
This time, Connor actually rolls his eyes. He hopes Hudson doesn’t notice.
“Please,” he adds, because after all he’s just a man who’s not above begging. “Please, I need your ass. Please, I promise I’ll fuck you good.”
He gives Hudson his best puppy eyes, and Hudson laughs.
“Oh baby, I know you will.”
Hudson’s hands slide down his own stomach, and Connor’s breath catches in his throat.
“Don’t take it off,” he whispers, grabbing the waistband of the skirt before he can even think about it.
Hudson laughs again. “Of course I won’t, that’s the whole point. It’s the skirt that turns you on, right?”
With a smirk on his lips, he spins a full 360° in front of Connor.
It’s not just the skirt, Connor wants to say. It’s you, literally everything about you.
But right now, yes, it’s the skirt more than anything else, so he just nods, his mouth unable to form words. He adjusts himself, hinting to Hudson that he’s ready, but Hudson clicks his tongue.
“Not so fast, baby. Surely you understand that I can’t go unprepared,” he reminds, and Connor bites his lip. Yeah. Of course.
“Do you want to work your pretty fingers on me or shall I just do it myself?” Hudson continues, seductively bringing his fingers up to his curved lips. It looks corny as hell, but Connor’s dick doesn’t care. It jerks at the sight, and Connor swallows.
He has a fair guess that touching Hudson in any way might make him reach his high a bit too soon. His voice is quiet, a bit shy, when he answers: “Wanna watch you doing it.”
Hudson doesn’t reply. He gets the lube instead, covers his fingers with it and, feeling maybe a step too bold, gets on all fours to offer Connor a perfect view. He moves the skirt out of the way and, deciding he’s done with teasing, pushes a finger straight in, soon followed by another. A sigh leaves his lips as he begins to stretch himself open, and when he glances over his shoulder, he sees that Connor is lazily jerking himself off, his eyes focused on Hudson’s entrance.
It’s fucking obscene. Hudson shivers.
“Enjoying the view?” he grins, trying to keep his voice steady as he adds a third finger, and Connor can only nod. It’s filthy, all of it: Hudson with his ass up, three fingers inside him, still fully clothed when Connor is all naked…
He snaps out of his thoughts when Hudson groans. He’s slowly moving back and forth, letting his body adjust to the sweet burning stretch. It’s familiar, almost pleasant already, but Hudson wants more.
He grits his teeth as he removes his fingers, his hole clenching around nothing.
“Grab a condom and come here.”
Connor just pouts at him, and Hudson scoffs.
“No arguments. You know I love to get myself filled with you, but I’m not gonna let you make a mess when I’m wearing this.” He waves a hand in front of himself, shrugging before he continues: “Unless you want me to take the skirt off.”
“No!” Connor almost cries, tugging at the hem. “Please, Huddy, don’t take it off.”
Hudson doesn’t.
A quiet oh fuck leaves Hudson’s lips when he lowers himself down on Connor’s cock barely a minute later. It stretches him, burns him from the inside, but it feels so fucking good. So familiar. Sweet and sour, hot and cold at the same time.
It feels like home.
Connor sighs as he watches Hudson slowly fall onto him, his dick disappearing under the skirt first and then into Hudson. It’s hot and tight and familiar, and Connor almost smiles.
Hudson places his hands on Connor’s chest and takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself before starting to create a pace. He rolls his hips, and Connor moans.
It doesn’t take long until they’re both panting. They rarely do it this way – usually Connor is in charge, pounding himself into Hudson – but Hudson is nothing if not a natural rider. He keeps slamming himself down on Connor’s cock, and the only thing Connor can do is let him take what he needs. He’s gripping Hudson’s thighs, the round of his ass, anywhere he can reach, and he’s sure his fingers are leaving prints on Hudson’s skin.
He can’t help the occasional thrusts either. Hudson jerks, moaning loudly, as he hits that one extra sweet spot. Connor grins, and Hudson pinches his nipple in response. It makes Connor cry out his name.
Hudson bends down to kiss him.
“You gonna come?” he whispers in Connor’s ear. It’s a stupid question, really, the way the heat blooms in his stomach and his moans are growing louder with each move of Hudson’s hips.
He swears quietly when Hudson kisses his neck.
“You can come for me, baby.”
It’s stupid, it’s so fucking stupid, but it does the trick. Hudson clenches around him, and Connor comes with a deep groan, spilling into the condom. Hudson keeps kissing him, murmuring praises against his skin as he rolls Connor through his orgasm.
Connor is not sure, but he thinks he blacks out for a second. He lets out a soft cry when Hudson leaves him, overwhelmed by everything.
“Are you okay?”
Hudson’s voice is gentle now. He kisses Connor’s cheek, then his lips, and Connor gives him a smile.
“Yeah, I’m good. That was so hot.” He lets his eyes wander on Hudson’s body before he adds: “You should start wearing skirts more often.”
Hudson smiles.
Connor is right.
Later that day, they find themselves sitting with none other than Madonna herself – makes sense, considering they were absolute nobodies six months ago. Her eyes keep drifting to Hudson, and finally, she whistles low.
“Wow. I have to say, that skirt looks amazing on you.”