Chapter 6
Six
Cullen
I wake up the next morning with a weight sitting on my chest. I had texted Hadley once I got home, apologizing for all the bullshit, even though I know I didn’t do anything she accused me of. Unsurprisingly, she left me on read. I gave up and fell asleep with dread wrapped around me like a blanket.
But it’s not just the mess with Hadley. I can’t stop thinking about Hudson.
He was way more out of it than a little tequila and weed would explain.
I’ve seen people with a cross buzz before, and that was more than that.
Thinking that someone might’ve slipped something into the drinks makes my stomach twist.
The need to call and check on him is overwhelming. Turning over in my bed, I reach for my phone on the side table to check the time. It’s just after ten, so there is a possibility he is awake. I dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail.
“Yo, it’s Hud. Leave a message and I may call you back—unless you’re calling about my car’s extended warranty, then I definitely won’t.”
Disappointment lands hard, but hearing his husky voice? It sends sharp electric strikes through me. I blow out a breath and run a hand through my bedhead. I don’t think I can deny it anymore
I’m attracted to Hudson.
If I’m being honest, it’s probably always been there. Quiet and tucked under the surface. But seeing him wrapped around Ella last night… it flipped something. Dragged it into the light.
And it’s not just him. There’ve been other guys.
Moments. I used to point out guys to Hadley, kind of testing the waters, trying to figure it out.
She’d always get defensive, tell me to “stop being gay” like it was some dirty habit I needed to kick.
I was naive then to think she’d welcome my feelings openly.
I guess I don’t blame her. It must’ve been confusing hearing your “straight” boyfriend comment on other guys. But still. Those moments chipped away at something I didn’t understand yet. I pushed it all down. Buried it.
Until now.
And I think I’m done hiding.
I still have a lot to sift through, primarily what to do about Hadley. You would think after last night that I’d be ready to call it quits, but I’m hesitant. Regardless of how things have been lately, there is comfort, history. And that makes it hard to walk away.
I know I need to talk to her sooner than later, especially about last night, so I grab my phone and press call.
One ring, then it goes to voicemail.
I drop my phone onto the bed and drag my forearm over my eyes, trying to block out the sun and the swirl of thoughts that won’t quit. Images from last night roll in like a tide I can’t hold back. The party. The fight. The worry.
Hudson.
His nose brushing against my neck. His voice, slurred but sincere, telling me I smelled like evergreen trees and happiness. It should’ve been funny. Just another drunk moment from my best friend.
Instead, it stuck with me.
My body reacts before I can get a handle on it. Heat coils low in my gut, pulsing and insistent. I blow out a breath, trying to will the pressure away, but it’s no use. I’m hard and throbbing.
Maybe if I take the edge off, I can think straight again.
I grab my phone and open my usual site. Muscle memory guides me to the same list of categories, the usual mix of straight couples going at it in high-def. As I’m scrolling, something off to the side catches my eye. A tab I’d normally ignore.
I hesitate, my thumb hovering just short of touching the screen. But it’s like that big red button you’re not supposed to push.
Unable to block it out any longer, I blow out a breath and click on the tab. Just like the homepage, dozens of videos pop up, but these are all of men enjoying each other’s bodies. I’ve never watched gay porn, but I find that I’m excited by the idea.
The very first thumbnail snags my attention, but it’s the title that really gets me—Blonde jock gets topped by best friend. The irony is not lost on me, and my cock practically begs me to press play.
So I do.
Not knowing where my parents are in the house, I grab my headphones and quickly connect them to my phone’s Bluetooth. They always knock, but if they hear obvious fucking sounds, they may come to investigate. I cringe at the thought of them hearing what I’m getting up to.
The video starts with the blonde on his knees, staring up at the best friend who is teasing his thick dick across his lips.
The blonde opens wide and takes him to the back of the throat without hesitation, letting the other guy grab a fistful of his hair and guide his rhythm.
I watch, fully engrossed, as the top fucks his mouth, drool sliding down the blonde’s chin.
My dick is painfully hard now, so I shimmy my sweats down just enough to let it spring free.
The video cuts to the blonde sprawled on a couch, panting and moaning, while the top fucks his ass. The sounds he’s making—fuck. They make my dick twitch, straining like it’s trying to follow the noise straight into the screen.
I keep watching, but my brain starts messing with me.
Suddenly, it’s not the blonde on the couch.
It’s Hudson. Flat on his back, eyes blown wide, mouth open like he’s gasping my name.
And it’s me hovering over him, pushing into his tight, perfect ass.
Every thrust buries me to the hilt, and he just takes it, clenching around me like he was made for me.
Taking a breath, I close my eyes and let the fantasy pull me under.
I spit into my palm and spread it over my cock, mixing with the precum already dripping from my length.
In my mind, Hudson's still beneath me, panting, gripping my forearms like he’s holding on for dear life as I drive us both higher.
Through the headphones, the low sound of moans and masculine grunts fills my ears. It’s got to be the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.
You like it when I fuck that tight little ass? You're taking my cock like such a good boy. Take that hard, throbbing cock, baby.
Oh, fuck. Scratch what I said. That is the most erotic thing I’ve ever heard.
My breathing turns ragged as the sounds of primal fucking batter my ears.
Each stroke of my cock grows tighter, more frantic, locked on the image of being buried deep in Hudson’s ass, and whispering filthy things in his ear.
I can see those blue eyes staring up at me, wide, begging me to take whatever I want from him.
I bite down on my lip to keep a groan from breaking free. That familiar tingle starts low in my groin and rolls through me, my balls drawing up tight. Release is right there, just out of reach, but I know what I need to fall over the edge.
In my mind, Hudson moans my name like a prayer. He’s coming hard, streaking his stomach, and it snaps whatever fragile grip I had left.
My whole body locks up, and I come with a growl. It’s hot and thick, as if I’ve been holding it back for weeks.
The video keeps playing in my ears, but it’s just background noise now. My chest is heaving, little aftershocks still firing off.
I take in the mess while my breathing slows. My cum is banded across my hand and thighs, cooling on my skin. Wonder hits me, and as the high fades, something deeper takes its place. Not guilt or shame. Just clarity. Like some part of me admitted what it’s been trying to hide.
Closing out the site, I peel off the headphones and set them aside. I head to my ensuite, the image of Hudson still burned behind my eyes.
I wash my hands, then glance up at the mirror.
For a second, it feels like I’m really seeing myself.
Like something I’ve kept buried clawed its way up, cracking the mask I’ve worn for years.
I feel… lighter. I’ve always suspected I was bisexual.
But fear, and being with Hadley, made me shove it down so deep I nearly forgot it was part of me.
I’m still not sure why it chose now to break through. Maybe it’s the tension with Hadley, or it just got tired of being buried.
Or it was Hudson nuzzling my neck, telling me I smell like evergreen trees and happiness.
Whatever the reason, I feel relieved. Like admitting it to myself gave me space to breathe.
What surprises me most is that I’m not freaking out.
When I first started having thoughts about other guys at sixteen, I panicked. Society likes to scream it’s wrong, so I told myself it was wrong. Disgusting. That I shouldn’t want other men like that, and when Hadley told me to stop “acting gay,” I locked it all down and never looked back.
I’ve grown a lot in the last couple of years, matured. Maybe part of me had already accepted it, quietly, without permission. And now that it’s out in the open, I feel at peace with it. Confident even.
I just stepped into who I’m meant to be.
I walk into the shower, the lightness from a moment ago already slipping fast as Hadley crashes into my thoughts.
Shit. I just had one of the best orgasms of my life fantasizing about fucking her twin brother. Her straight, twin brother. Everything that was clear a moment ago is already knotting itself up again.
I let the hot water pour over my back, hoping it’ll ease the tension building in my shoulders. My mind is all over the place, and I can’t deny that I feel something deeper for Hudson.
But I can’t tell him. What’s the point in admitting anything? It could potentially fuck up our friendship, and it wouldn’t be fair to Hadley. Things with her are already complicated enough.
Defeat settles in my stomach like concrete, cold and immovable.
I don’t know how I’m supposed to wade through this and come out clean on the other side.
All I know is there’s this pull toward Hudson, undeniable and constant, and I can’t follow it.
Can’t touch it. And that’s a weight I don’t know how to carry.
I finish my shower and get dressed, but the tightness in my chest remains. I grab my phone and try calling Hudson again, just needing to hear his voice.