Chapter Text
It starts like it always does with Hudson and Connor— a game that goes too far.
“Okay, so for tonight, every time I say ‘Connor says,’ Hudson has to do what I say,” Connor tells the camera.
“Dude, what? Like Simon Says? Connie, that’s the worst game you’ve made up yet. Fuck this,” Hudson groans and crosses his arms from where he’s squished up next to Connor on the couch. And even though their couch is huge, they always sit so close they’re practically in one another’s lap.
Connor just looks at him and then smirks back at the camera, addressing their Tik Tok followers— “Worse than the ‘silent game?’”
Hudson groans: “No, the silent game was pure torture.”
“So you don’t want to play?”
“Mh, I mean there’s nothing to watch on Netflix besides Tiger King, so you know what? Fuck it, okay.”
“Okay, Connor says- go get me a water bottle.”
“Is this just a set up for making me your personal bitch?” Hudson groans even as he obediently gets up, fetches Connor his water from their fridge, and tosses it at his roomie, who catches it with a grin.
“Thanks, but I don’t need a game to do that, Huddy,” Connor says, deceptively sweet.
“Why’s that?” Hudson asks, knowing it’s a set-up but going along with it anyways for the bit.
“Because you’re already my bitch.”
“Wow. I hate you.”
“No, you don’t. You love me so much it makes you stupid.”
True (not that Hudson’s going to admit that).
“God, our followers think you’re an angel, but you’re actually so evil,” Hudson says even as he sits back on the couch to bro-ishly sling his hand around Connor’s shoulders.
“I don’t know what you mean; I’m an angel.”
“Uh huh. Then how come all your games involve humiliating me, Con?”
Connor turns conspiratorially to the camera to give a theatrical whisper, “Huddy loves it.”
“I don’t,” Hudson protests and playfully pushes Connor’s shoulder with his own.
“You do. I know you love it, baby. You ask me to make up a new game every night since we started quarantining together.”
“No I don’t— I’m being held prisoner here.”
“Connor says- stop talking,” Connor says softly, so soft that Hudson wonders if the camera even picks that up.
Hudson opens his mouth and then closes it, and he actually blushes when he sees Connor’s eyes flick down to his mouth and then back up to see his eyes. Connor’s grinning and biting his bottom lip like a little kid that just discovered he had superpowers.
“Good boy, nice and quiet,” Connor says, with the perfect amount of mocking that makes Hudson’s cock stir in his jeans. Because, for some reason, he can’t stop staring at Connor’s pretty cupid-bow lips, especially when they’re calling him ‘good boy.’
And Hudson wants to make a sassy remark about how he’s noticed all the games involve Connor getting him to ‘shut up.’ But he can’t talk, so Hudson just directs a bitchy look at Connor, who grins and ruffles Hudson’s hair with a-
“Mh, you’re always so much cuter when you’re silent.”
Hudson retaliates by upping his bitchy eyes.
“Aw, stop that, gimme a kiss,” Connor says and taps his cheek.
Hudson just crosses his arm and gives the camera a look like— I’m not stupid. I don’t want to lose the game that fast.
“Thought I would get you with that,” Connor sighs. “Alright, Connor says- gimme a kiss.”
And Hudson has no choice but to lean in and softly kiss Connor’s cheek, and Connor reaches up to play with Hudson’s hair and holds him there.
And now they’re not even saying anything, just silent as Connor plays with Hudson’s hair, keeping him close, and Hudson gets that tingle in his stomach he always gets when Connor makes him do something.
Fuck.
This game should be renamed— try not to get hard when Connor bosses you around, Hudson (impossible edition).
“Alright, good. You can talk again.”
Mh. Not falling for that.
“Connor says- you can talk again.”
“Duuuuuuude,” Hudson bursts when he finally pulls back. “Not fucking cool.”
And Connor just turns on him with gleaming eyes, raises his eyebrows and promises, “Oh, but I could be so much worse.”
And Hudson feels himself flush at that promise (threat?).
“Try me,” Hudson dares Connor.
Hudson feels lightheaded like he just took a shot, and he wonders if Connor can see it in him. The part of Hudson that wants this. That’s fucking buzzing. They’ve been upping the weirdness every game, but so far there’s been nothing that Connor can do to out freak Hudson. Not yet anyways.
“What? Run out of weird humiliation rituals?” Hudson taunts even as his palms sweat, and he rubs them excitedly against his jeans. He’s just trying to rage bait Connor to make it worse, and they both know it.
Connor smiles at Hudson and tilts his head a little, sizing him up with his eyes, and Hudson’s heart skips a beat at having Connor’s undivided attention.
“Connor says- for the next ten minutes pretend to be a puppy.”
“What the fuck?”
“You heard me, Huddy.”
“Con. A puppy?” Hudson asks, heart racing.
“Mhm. Aren’t you supposed to be an actor?” Connor asks and snaps his fingers. “Act.”
And it reminds Hudson of when hypnotists snap their fingers, and it works for him in the same way. He forgets his flushed cheeks and racing heart, turning them all off to become what Connor’s asked for— a puppy.
Hudson gets down on his knees, sticks his tongue out, panting, and rubs his head into Connor’s leg.
“That’s more like it,” Connor says and rewards Hudson by running a hand through his hair, effectively petting him. “Good boy, Huddy. Just my good boy, aren’t you?”
And it’s…okay, it’s actually a fun game. Because Connor would be a great owner, Hudson thinks to himself as he eagerly nuzzles his face into Connor’s lap, earning himself more pets and “good boys,” and Hudson makes excited little puppy sounds, pretending to wag his tail a bit as he gets into the role.
“Okay, okay, sit.”
Hudson stops, and his dog-brain almost sits before he remembers they’re playing a game. He just keeps wagging his pretend-tail, playing dumb, and refuses to sit.
“Aw, thought that would get you,” Connor says and cups Hudson’s red cheeks in his hands. “But you’re just so smart, aren’t you? Such a smart boy. Wouldn’t fall for that, hm? Okay, Huddy, Connor says- sit.”
Hudson kneels for Connor immediately and when his roommate brushes his hair back and says “good boy, good listening,” Hudson’s dick pathetically pulses from the praise.
Hudson has to resist adjusting himself. Puppies don’t think about how they’re throbbing in their jeans from playing stupid games with their roommate. Instead, Hudson whimpers, unable to communicate his need to Connor, who’s still holding Hudson’s flushed face in his hands.
“What’s wrong? Don’t you like being my puppy, Huddy?” Connor asks, and Hudson can’t say- ‘I like it a little too much.’
Hudson thinks about how a puppy might rub themselves off on their owner, and his cock twitches at the sudden involuntary image of rubbing himself off on Connor’s leg. His eyes flutter closed, unable to do anything with the stupid image, and he whines again.
“Okay, okay, Connor says- you’re done being a puppy.”
And Hudson blinks his eyes open like he’s coming out of a trance, and it takes him a moment to sit back up on the couch and adjust himself. He wonders how that looked on camera, and he hates that the idea of people on Tik Tok watching him act like a dog only makes Hudson harder. He wonders if people would make fun of him in the comments section, and his half hard cock gives another shameful twitch at the thought of being verbally humiliated. God, he really is a piece of work.
Hudson rubs his face with his hands and groans, “Yo, what the fuck was that?”
“What? You make such a good puppy, Huddy,” Connor says, and Hudson has no idea what to do with all this energy that’s building up besides to wrestle Connor down into the couch as retribution.
“You are so weird for wanting me to do that,” Hudson accuses as he pins Connor down; he positions his crotch away from Connor, so he can’t feel how hard he already is.
“Mhm, sure. I could tell you liked it. If I’m a weirdo, you’re a weirdo too.”
“Uh huh, keep telling yourself that, Con.”
Hudson squeezes Connor’s wrists and traces his eyes down the curve of Connor’s back down to the roundness of his ass. Damn, why the fuck would a boy have an ass that fat?
“Connor says- let me go and give me a back massage.”
“Ugh, bossy,” Hudson groans dramatically even as he obediently lets go of Connor’s wrists and starts to dig his hands into Connor’s back. “If you wanted my hands on you, you could have just asked, Con.”
“I just did.”
“No. You ordered me,” Hudson grumbles as if he doesn’t love it, as if he hasn’t had this queer tingle running up his spine the entire time. His heart hasn’t stopped racing nor his stupid cheeks blushing.
He pulls up Connor’s shirt, so he can really get into it, and then it’s silent, just Hudson rubbing his hands into Connor’s beautiful, muscular back, getting out the knots. It’s dark except for the kitchen lights and the cars racing outside, occasionally spotlighting them.
Hudson resists pressing a kiss to Connor’s back as he keeps rubbing slow sensual circles into Connor’s back muscles, teasing out the knots, making his roommate moan, and suddenly Hudson’s thinking about how many of his hookups start this way, and then his eyes are drifting back down to Connor’s ass and-
“Fuck, Huddy, feels good,” Connor sighs, and Hudson looks over at the camera, and he realizes that all this footage will be unusable.
Hudson leans down, so that Connor’s curls are tickling his cheeks: “You’re gonna have to edit this out, Con.”
“Why?” Connor asks, and Hudson can tell by the smugness of his roommate’s voice that he already knows the answer.
“Because of this, Connie,” Hudson says, rocking his hips forward a little, pressing his hard cock against Connor’s thigh.
It’s silent, and then-
“Okay,” Connor says, and Hudson wonders if Connor’s hard too.
“Okay what?”
Hudson’s heart skips a beat. It was a bold move rubbing his hard-on against Connor, but Hudson’s a direct guy— high risk, high reward.
“Okay, I’ll cut this out of the video,” Connor concedes and then decides. “Take care of it.”
“W-what?”
Wait. They’re…still playing? Hudson just rubbed his throbbing erection into Connor, and his roommate is still playing. Insane.
“Oh wait. Connor says- take care of it,” Connor orders, and Hudson does not move for a moment, confused.
“You’re…? You’re fucking with me,” Hudson says even as he feels dizzy from the thrill of being ordered to touch himself.
“No, come on. It’s not a big deal,” Connor dismisses. “Just take care of it and we can keep playing.”
Hudson rolls onto his back and he closes his eyes, embarrassed by how turned on he is: “Con, this is so weird.”
“Weirder than pretending to be a puppy?” Connor asks as he sits up and pulls Hudson’s head into his lap, and then when Connor gently pets him, Hudson unsteadily exhales.
“And you’re just going to watch?” Hudson asks as if he’s not achingly hard at the idea of Connor watching him touch himself.
Connor tenderly runs a hand through Hudson’s fine hair: “Come on, my little exhibitionist.”
Hudson huffs, “Okay, fine.”
He keeps it hidden, but it’s obvious to both of them what Hudson’s doing when he pushes his hand under his baggy jeans and underwear to squeeze himself. Connor’s silent for once, just running a gentle hand through Hudson’s hair, watching.
And Hudson closes his eyes, breathing roughly as he starts to slowly jerk himself off inside his jeans. It’s a restrictive motion with the fabric, but for some reason that just makes it more dirty, more erotic that he’s keeping it hidden.
“What are you thinking about?” Connor asks as Hudson lets out a little gasp.
“N-nothing,” Hudson answers truthfully.
His mind is clear, all he can concentrate on is the loving way that Connor’s playing with his hair.
Connor pulls at his hair, and, oh, that feels good.
Hudson whimpers again.
“You’re so noisy, Huddy,” Connor says softly and then does it again, and Hudson’s hips jerk up this time.
“And you’re- you’re so weird for watching.”
“I think you like that I’m watching,” Connor says as he rubs his fingers tenderly through Hudson’s hair, and, oh, that sends a shiver down his spine. “I think you like that this is still being filmed too.”
And Hudson squeezes down harder, whimpering again.
“That’s it. Come on, Huddy, faster so we can keep playing, baby,” Connor says as he tenderly traces a hand down Hudson’s red face.
“But isn’t- isn't this still part of the game?” Hudson gasps, working himself faster. “You told me to touch myself.”
Something inside of Hudson purrs at the idea that Connor ordered him. That he didn’t have any other choice but to touch himself.
And Connor makes a ‘hm’ as he presses his thumb against Hudson’s lips: “You’re right.”
“Y-yeah?” Hudson asks as opens his eyes to see Connor looking down at him with dark, seductive eyes.
“Yeah, we’re still playing,” Connor says as he pushes his thumb down into Hudson’s mouth, so it’s pressed to his tongue. “Suck.”
And Hudson greedily closes his eyes and sucks down around Connor’s thumb and his mind goes blank, and he’s still touching himself, and- and Hudson can feel his orgasm building as Connor pulls his finger out and then presses it back inside -fucking his mouth- and Hudson’s sucking around Connor, and it’s weird and strange and sorta humiliating-
Connor pulls his wet thumb out and wipes it clean against Hudson’s red cheek: “Good boy, always doing what I say…what if I told you to cum all over yourself? You’d do that too, wouldn’t you?”
Oh my god.
Hudson moans ‘Connie’ one last time as he desperately squeezes his cock, and he cums so hard that he almost blacks out, desperately working himself through his orgasm, milking it. Toes curling. Core tightening. Breath shortening.
It’s silent for a minute as Hudson stills, panting, and then Connor softly says, “Hope the orgasm was worth losing the game.”
This motherfucker.
“W-what?”
“I didn’t say ‘Connor says.’”
“Fuuuuck,” Hudson groans as he sits up and wipes his dirty hand on Connor’s jeans in retribution.
When he looks down at Connor’s lap, Hudson notices that Connor’s achingly hard, and Hudson mindlessly licks his lips: “Let’s play again.”
“Nope, all done playing,” Connor says firmly and moves Hudson’s head off his lap, not looking him in the eyes as he leaves to go to his room.
The sound of Connor closing his door is loud.
And Hudson just lays there, spent, wondering—
What the fuck kind of game did we just play? And why do I want to play again so badly?