The turkey timer beeped for the third time without anyone noticing. Hudson's dad adjusted the volume on the TV, drowning out the distant clatter of pots from the kitchen with the noise of the game. "Damn refs are blind," he muttered, scratching his stubble as the replay showed yet another bad call.
Hudson leaned back into the worn leather couch, the scent of aged whisky and pine cleaner clinging to the fabric beneath him. He stretched his legs out on the coffee table, bare toes brushing against a half-empty beer bottle. The brown waves of his hair fell just above his eyebrows, messy from running his fingers through them earlier while studying play stats on his phone. His faded blue henley rode up slightly as he stretched, revealing the waistband of his boxers—threadbare from too many washes.
The doorbell rang—sharp and insistent—just as Hudson's mom emerged from the kitchen, flour streaked across her apron. "Someone get that!" she called, but Hudson was already halfway to the foyer, grinning at the sound of his sister's frantic footsteps overhead.
Sarah's voice cut through the commotion, half-laughing, half-snarling: "Hudson, I swear to god. That's my university friend don't you answer—!" He could hear her bare feet slapping against the hardwood upstairs, the familiar creak of the steps as she took it two at a time.
By the time he yanked the door open, cold November air rushing in, Sarah was practically breathing down his neck. Sebastian stood on the welcome mat, holding a bottle of wine awkwardly in one hand and a six-pack in the other, eyebrows raised at the sibling standoff unfolding in front of him. "Uh," he said, shifting his weight. "Happy Thanksgiving?"
Hudson took him in with a quick glance—dirty blonde hair slightly damp from the drizzle outside, the kind of square jaw that made girls do that stupid lip-bite thing, and shoulders that filled out his sweater just enough to suggest he hit the gym but didn't obsess over it. Sebastian's mouth quirked into an easy smile, like he was used to people staring.
Hudson smirked, leaning against the doorframe just enough to block Sarah's path. "Seb! Didn't know you were—" A sharp elbow dug into his ribs as Sarah shoved past him, already reaching for Sebastian's arm with an exasperated sigh. Her hair smelled like vanilla and something floral—the same shampoo she'd used since high school, faint but familiar.
Sebastian chuckled, his eyes flickering between them with amused patience. His posture was relaxed, shoulders loose under the dark green sweater that brought out the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes. Up close, Hudson noticed the faint scar cutting through his left eyebrow—thin and pale, the kind that came from a skateboard accident or a bar fight, though his easy grin suggested the former. His grip on the wine bottle shifted effortlessly as Sarah tugged him inside, and Hudson caught the way his fingers flexed—knuckles slightly rough, like he worked with his hands.
The cold draft followed them as Sebastian stepped in, trailing droplets from his boots onto the hardwood. He smelled like cedar and cheap detergent, with just a hint of cinnamon gum. "Brought reinforcements," he said, lifting the six-pack with a nod toward the kitchen. His voice was deeper than Hudson remembered—warm, but with a rasp that made it clear he'd been out in the cold just moments before.
Sarah rolled her eyes, already steering him out of the foyer. "Ignore Hudson, he's allergic to being helpful." But Sebastian glanced back over his shoulder, still grinning, and Hudson caught the way his gaze lingered—just a beat too long—before the kitchen swallowed them both in its chaos of clattering pans and overlapping voices.
Hudson’s mom intercepted them near the stove, wiping her hands on her apron before pulling Sebastian into a tight hug. "You're taller than I remember!" she said, patting his cheek like he was twelve. Sebastian ducked his head, laughing softly, but not before Hudson saw the flush creeping up his neck. The bottle of wine exchanged hands, and Hudson watched Sebastian's fingers brush against his mom’s—quick, polite.
From the living room, Hudson’s dad bellowed, "Who’s here?" just as the oven timer beeped again, shrill and ignored. Sarah groaned, wrestling a dish towel from the counter. "Mom, the green beans are gonna burn—" But Sebastian was already moving, snagging an oven mitt with a quiet, "I got it," his shoulder bumping Hudson’s as he passed. The contact was fleeting, but Hudson felt it like static—sharp and sudden, gone before he could react.
The scent of roasted turkey and sage bloomed thick in the air as Sebastian bent to check the oven, the muscles in his back shifting under his sweater. Hudson swallowed, forcing his gaze away. Behind him, Sarah muttered something about "finally the men pulling their weight," but her voice was fond, as Sebastian straightened, balancing the steaming dish with graceful ease.
Hudson trotted back over to the living room and sank back into the couch, the leather creaking beneath him. He thumbed his phone awake, the screen casting a blue glow across his face. Grindr's familiar icon sat nestled between Snapchat and Spotify—innocuous unless you knew what to look for. His fingers moved before his brain could protest, opening the app with practiced nonchalance, eyes flicking to the hallway just as Sebastian excused himself toward the bathroom. The nearby profiles appeared in a grid—faceless torsos, grainy mirror selfies, one guy holding a fish.
When Sebastian reappeared minutes later, his sleeves were rolled to his elbows, revealing forearms dusted with blonde hair and the faded ink of an old stick-and-poke tattoo. He caught Hudson staring and paused, head tilting slightly. "Game that bad?" he asked, nodding at the TV where the quarterback was getting sacked—again. Hudson's phone screen darkened abruptly in his lap.
"Just predictable," Hudson said, shrugging. Sebastian's chuckle was low, his thumb hooking into his belt loop as he leaned against the doorframe. The movement pulled his sweater taut across his chest, and Hudson's gaze snagged on the way the fabric stretched. A crash from the kitchen made them both jump—Sarah cursing, a spoon clattering to the floor—but Sebastian didn't move, his eyes locked on Hudson's with quiet, unnerving focus.
Hudson's dad chose that moment to groan loudly at the screen, tossing a couch pillow in mock outrage. "Jesus, fire the whole damn lineup!" Sebastian finally broke away, laughing as he pushed off the wall, but not before Hudson saw his tongue dart out to wet his lips—quick, unconscious.
When Hudson looked back at his phone, thumbing it back awake, the screen had refreshed on its own. A new profile glowed at the top of the grid: 0 feet away. His thumb hovered. The preview image was cropped at the neck—golden thighs braced apart as the man kneeled on the tile floor, tight black briefs stretched obscenely over a formidable bulge. Hudson inhaled sharply. The photo reflected the same dusting of honey-blonde hair across the man's arms and legs that Hudson had just been staring at, the same stick-and-poke tattoo peeking above his wrist.
From the kitchen, Sarah shrieked, "Seb, I said almonds not walnuts—!" A cupboard slammed. Hudson didn't look up. The profile name was blank, but the stats screamed familiarity: 5'9", Vers Top, Last Active 1 min ago. Hudson's pulse hammered in his throat as he tapped the message icon, fingers trembling just enough to mistype the first letter.
Sebastian's phone buzzed audibly from the kitchen—a sharp, short vibration against wood. Hudson watched through his lashes as Sebastian picked it up, the screen illuminating the sharp angle of his jaw. His thumb swiped once. Paused. Then his lips twitched to form a wry smile. The oven mitt still dangled from his other hand, fingers flexing around the fabric.
Hudson's phone chimed. One word: "Hud?" The air left his lungs in a rush.
Sebastian had stopped by the fridge, one hand tossing the walnuts back into the cabinet while the other thumbed his screen with deliberate slowness. The glow lit the underside of his jaw, caught the curve of his lower lip as it parted—waiting.
Hudson’s thumbs hovered over his keyboard, suddenly hyperaware of the room around him and the way his pulse thudded against his collarbone. He typed three letters—“Yep”—then sent them, exhaling through his nose as Sarah hip-checked Sebastian aside to yank open the silverware drawer. The clatter of forks masked the second buzz against his thigh.
Sebastian’s reply was a photo this time: The same bathroom, the same kneeling stance, and the same black briefs, but now pushed down just enough to reveal the flushed, thick head of his cock, glistening at the tip. Hudson’s mouth went dry.
When he finally looked up, Sebastian was already watching him over Sarah’s shoulder, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he mouthed, “Bathroom. Five minutes.” Then he turned smoothly, handing Sarah the almonds with a lopsided grin.
Five minutes later, the living room TV roared to life with a commercial break, drowning out Hudson’s shaky exhale. He stood abruptly, pretending to stretch before muttering something about “bathroom beak,” though his palms were slick against his phone. The hallway to the bathroom felt miles long, every creak of the floorboards underfoot echoing like a gunshot. He could still hear his mom laughing in the kitchen, the sizzle of onions hitting butter, the dull thud of his dad’s fist against the armrest—mundane, oblivious.
The bathroom door was ajar when he reached it, light spilling from the crack like an invitation. Inside, Sebastian leaned against the sink, sweatshirt riding up to expose the taut line of his stomach and sleeves pushed up on his arms. “Took you long enough,” he murmured, reaching out to hook a finger into Hudson’s belt loop, pulling him close enough to smell his faint cedar and smoky scent.
Sebastian’s face was so close—close enough for Hudson to see the golden stubble dusting his jawline, the faint mole beneath his left ear that made his skin look even smoother in contrast. His lips parted, pink and slightly chapped from the cold, revealing just a hint of white teeth. His tongue darted out to wet them, and Hudson’s gaze followed the movement like a moth to flame.
Sebastian’s body was a study in contradictions—broad shoulders tapered into a lean waist, his hips narrow but muscular beneath the fabric of his jeans. Up close, the veins in his forearms stood stark against golden skin, trailing down to thick wrists. The black briefs from the photo peeked above his belt, snug against the curve of his cock, already obviously half-hard beneath the fabric of his jeans.
Hudson’s own body felt suddenly too small in comparison—his frame wiry where Sebastian’s was solid, his fingers thinner, his collarbones sharper. His brown curls were mussed from nervous hands running through them, strands catching against his forehead as he exhaled sharply. His henley clung to his chest where sweat had dampened it, cotton sticking to the dip between his ribs. While only a year older than him, Sebastian suddenly seemed years more mature.
Hudson swallowed, his pulse hammering as Sebastian’s free hand slid up his chest, fingertips brushing the hollow of his throat. “So,” Sebastian breathed, voice rough, “you gonna stare all day?” His thumb traced Hudson’s Adam’s apple, pressing just enough to make him gasp—and then the world narrowed to the click of the door behind them, sealing them in.
Hudson’s back hit the door as it clicked shut, Sebastian’s knee slotting between his thighs with practiced ease. The first touch of Sebastian’s tongue against his neck sent a jolt straight to his groin, and Hudson barely stifled a groan, fingers scrambling for purchase on the sink as Sebastian whispered, “Quiet, or they’ll hear.”
"I didn't know you swung this way," Hudson breathed, arching into the heat of Sebastian’s mouth tracing his collarbone—half accusation, half surrender. Sebastian pulled back just enough to smirk, teeth catching Hudson’s lower lip as his palm slid down the front of Hudson’s jeans.
"Right back atcha," he murmured, and the rasp of his voice alone nearly undid Hudson, who could feel the weight of Sebastian’s erection pressing against his hip through layers of fabric. Sebastian’s thumb circled the leaking head of Hudson’s cock through the thin layers of his boxers and joggers, slow and torturous, and Hudson bit down on his own knuckles to keep from crying out when Sebastian dropped to his knees.
Sebastian slowly loosened Hudson’s belt and yanked his jeans and boxers down just enough to free his cock, which jerked hard and flushed as it slapped up against his stomach. He grinned as he took in the entirety of Hudson's achingly hard length, slightly curved to the right, making the thick vein along its underside stand out even more. Sebastian exhaled sharply through his nose, his breath hot against the leaking slit before he wrapped his fingers around the base, thumbing away the bead of precum with a slow, deliberate swipe. The contrast of his rough palm against Hudson’s smooth shaft sent sparks up his spine.
Sebastian’s breath was hot against his skin, lips parting—but the sudden bang of the kitchen door swinging open downstairs made them both freeze. Sarah’s voice carried down the hall, sharp with irritation: “Sebastian, where the hell did you go—” Hudson’s pulse thundered in his ears as Sebastian’s fingers tightened around his thigh, pupils blown wide with a silent question: *Keep going?*
Sebastian didn’t wait for an answer. His tongue dragged a slow, wet stripe from root to tip— tracing the full five inches of Hudson’s length, pausing to swirl around the swollen head before swallowing him down to the base as his fingers dug into Hudson's hips to hold him still against the door. The contrast of rough grip and soft mouth sent sparks up Hudson’s spine, his head tipping back with a silent gasp. The scrape of teeth was just shy of painful, a fleeting threat that made his thighs tremble.
Distantly, he heard Sarah’s footsteps pause outside and call, "Sebastian just checking you're good?"
Sebastian pulled off Hudson's cock with a wet pop, his lips slick and swollen and his dirty blonde hair tousled as he looked up. "Yeah," he called back, voice impressively steady despite the way his tongue flicked against Hudson’s slit one last time. "Just—uh—ya know—taking care of business." His fingers tightened around Hudson’s hips as footsteps retreated, and then he was swallowing him down again, nose buried in the wiry curls at the base. Hudson’s fingers twisted in Sebastian’s hair—too tight, probably—but the muffled groan against his skin told him it wasn’t unwelcome.
Hudson groaned, knees shaking, as Sebastian hollowed his cheeks, dragging his tongue along the underside of his cock. Sebastian’s free hand slid around to palm Hudson’s ass, fingers pressing just shy of where Hudson wanted them most, teasing and taunting, until Hudson bucked forward with a silent curse, hitting the back of Sebastian’s throat.
Sebastian pulled back, gasping, lips glistening, and looked up through his lashes—a challenge. Hudson had half a second to register the smirk before Sebastian’s fingers finally slipped lower, pressing directly against his hole, and Hudson’s vision whited out at the sudden pressure. The muffled sound he made was embarrassingly close to a whimper, but Sebastian just grinned, thumb circling slow and cruel as he murmured, "Yeah? You like that?" before leaning in again.
Hudson’s hips jerked involuntarily, his cock sliding deeper into Sebastian’s throat as those teasing fingers pressed harder, dry and rough and perfect. The vibrations of Sebastian’s hum around him sent shockwaves up his spine, and his grip on the sink tightened until his knuckles ached. Distantly, he heard the clatter of dishes downstairs, his mom’s laughter—real life, still happening—but all he could focus on was the wet heat of Sebastian’s mouth and the relentless press of his fingers.
Sebastian pulled off again, panting, and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before standing abruptly. His lips were red and swollen, his pupils blown so wide Hudson could barely see the hazel. "Your turn to please me," he growled, spinning Hudson around to face the door, pressing flush against his back. Hudson’s breath hitched as Sebastian’s cock ground against his ass—hard and insistent through layers of denim—while his hands slid under Hudson’s henley, scraping nails down his ribs.
The doorbell rang again outside—sharp, impatient—and Hudson flinched, but Sebastian just nipped at his earlobe, voice thick with amusement: "Better hurry." His fingers dipped below Hudson’s waistline, calloused tips tracing the crease of his thigh, and Hudson bit back a groan as the doorbell chimed a third time, unanswered. Sebastian’s breath was hot against his neck, his teeth marking a trail along the tendon as he murmured, "Oh this day is turning out much more interesting than I expected."
Somewhere downstairs, Sarah yelled, "Hudson, who the hell is at the door?"—her voice muffled by the hum of the microwave and the sudden burst of laughter from the living room. Sebastian smirked against Hudson’s skin, his fingers curling possessively around his waist. "Guess you’re needed," he teased, but his other hand was already working open his own jeans, the rasp of the zipper drowning out Hudson’s shaky inhale.
Hudson caught the movement in the mirror—Sebastian’s cock springing free, thick and flushed, the upward curve glistening at the tip as it stood at a proud six inches—and his mouth watered despite the panic clawing up his throat. Sebastian’s chuckle was dark as he nudged Hudson’s thighs apart with his knee. "Relax," he breathed, dragging the head of his cock along Hudson’s cleft, the wet smear of precum making him shudder. "They’re all too busy to notice."
The doorbell rang once more, this time accompanied by a loud knock, and Hudson’s mom’s voice carried up the stairs: "Hudson Michael Worthington, if that’s Aunt Carol and you leave her standing out there. Nevermind, Sarah you get —" Sebastian’s hand clamped over Hudson’s mouth just as he slid his cock along the crack of Hudson's ass, the blunt pressure stealing his breath. "Shh," he murmured, lips brushing Hudson’s temple.
Sebastian’s fingers dug into Hudson’s hips, anchoring him as he pressed forward, the slick head of his cock catching against Hudson’s hole—too dry, too sudden, but Hudson arched back into it anyway, his knuckles white where they gripped the sink.
His reflection in the mirror was a mess of flushed skin and wild eyes, lips bitten red and chest heaving as Sebastian’s chuckle rumbled against his back. “Easy,” Sebastian murmured, his voice rough with amusement as he reached past Hudson’s shoulder. Hudson’s breath hitched as Sebastian grabbed the bottle of lotion perched on the sink—some generic, floral-scented thing left behind by his mom or Sarah—and popped the cap one-handed, squeezing a generous glob onto his fingers.
The scent of artificial lavender filled the cramped bathroom as Sebastian slicked himself up with lazy strokes, his other hand splayed possessively across Hudson’s stomach to keep him still. The warmth of his palm seared through the thin cotton of Hudson’s henley, a stark contrast to the cool slide of lotion-slicked fingers tracing his rim.
Sebastian exhaled sharply through his nose, his breath hot against the nape of Hudson’s neck as he breached him with one thick digit—slow, torturous. The burn was sudden, but Hudson arched into it anyway, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as Sebastian murmured, “Yeah, just like that,” before adding a second finger, twisting and scissoring them inside of Hudson.
Hudson’s thighs trembled, his cock leaking against the sink cabinet as Sebastian’s free hand crept under his shirt, pinching a nipple hard enough to make him jerk backward—straight onto those relentless fingers.
Sebastian’s chuckle was dark as he withdrew his hand abruptly, replacing it with the slick head of his cock, pressing insistently against Hudson’s loosened rim. “Ready?” he breathed—not really a question. Hudson’s nod was frantic, his knuckles white on the sink.
The stretch was unbearable—blunt pressure blooming into sharp pleasure as Sebastian eased forward, the thick crown popping past his sphincter. Hudson’s breath stuttered, his thighs shaking as Sebastian’s cock burned its way inside inch by inch, the upward curve dragging against his walls in a way that made his toes curl. Sebastian groaned against his shoulder, his fingers digging bruises into Hudson’s hips as he bottomed out, hips flush against Hudson’s ass, the wiry curls at his groin tickling Hudson’s skin.
Sebastian stilled, buried to the hilt, letting Hudson adjust—but the pause was torture, every twitch of the cock inside him sending sparks up Hudson’s spine. Hudson could feel the shuddering breaths Sebastian took against his back, the way his own body clenched around him involuntarily, greedy for more. “Fuck,” Sebastian rasped, his voice rough as he pulled back just enough to drag the thick ridge of his head against Hudson’s prostate, wrenching a choked gasp from his throat.
The first thrust was brutal, Sebastian’s hips snapping forward, his cock sinking deep again—and Hudson’s vision whited out, his mouth falling open in a silent scream. Sebastian’s hand clamped over his lips again as he set a relentless pace, the slap of skin on skin drowned out by the chaos downstairs—the oven timer blaring yet again, the front door finally swinging open with a burst of cold air and Aunt Carol’s shrill greeting. None of it mattered. Not when Sebastian’s teeth scraped his neck, not when his cock hit that spot inside him again and again, not when the mirror fogged with their panting breaths and Hudson realized—goddamn—he was close already.
Sebastian’s fingers tightened in Hudson’s hair, yanking his head back to expose his throat as he growled, “Look at you,” nodding toward the mirror where Hudson’s wrecked reflection stared back—lips swollen, pupils blown, his cock leaking untouched between his thighs. Sebastian’s free hand slid down, wrapping around him in time with a particularly brutal thrust, and Hudson’s knees nearly gave out, his hips stuttering as Sebastian stroked him in rough counterpoint to the snap of his hips.
The pressure built too fast—Hudson’s stomach tightening, his toes curling against the tile as Sebastian’s thrusts grew erratic, his breath ragged against Hudson’s ear. “Gonna come inside you Hud,” he gritted out, fingers digging bruises into Hudson’s hipbone. “Unless you wanna—”
Hudson came with a shudder, biting down on his tongue to muffle the cry as his cock pulsed hot over Sebastian’s fist, stripes of white splattering the door and tile. Sebastian followed with a choked groan, his hips stuttering as he buried himself deep, his cock pulsing inside Hudson—warmth flooding him, the slide turning even slicker now as Sebastian continued to slowly ease his dick in and out. Finally, Sebastian collapsed against his back, both of them trembling and gasping against the door. Downstairs, the football game roared back to life, Sarah shrieked about burnt rolls, and the doorbell rang again—but all Hudson could hear was Sebastian’s ragged laughter against his skin.
Sebastian pulled back slowly, careful as his softening cock slipped free. He grabbed a wad of toilet paper, wiping himself off before handing some to Hudson, who cleaned up with shaking hands—hissing slightly at the sting between his legs. Sebastian’s smirk was lazy as he pulled up his pants and tucked himself away, adjusting his belt. “So,” Sebastian murmured, leaning in to nip at Hudson’s earlobe, “guess we know whose bed you’ll be sneaking into tonight. I'm staying in the guest room.” Hudson flushed, turning away to splash cold water on his face—only to freeze when Sebastian added, his voice low, “Assuming you can walk that is.”
Sebastian’s fingers drummed against the sink, eyes gleaming as they flicked to the medicine cabinet. “Tell me, Hud—where do you keep your butt plugs?” Hudson’s head whipped toward him, a flush spreading across his cheeks. Sebastian arched a brow, grinning at his silence. “Don’t play innocent—I know you have em somewhere.” Hudson swallowed hard, glancing toward the hallway where Sarah’s voice carried—close, too close—before nodding toward the bottom drawer of the sink vanity, his knees still weak.
Sebastian crouched, pulling it open with a soft scrape, revealing a small black pouch tucked behind spare toiletries. He unzipped it with a chuckle, shaking out a sleek silicone plug—medium-sized, tapered. Hudson’s breath hitched as Sebastian poured more lotion into his palm, working it over the toy with slow, deliberate strokes. “Keep you nice and loose,” Sebastian murmured, pressing a kiss to the knob of Hudson’s spine before guiding him to bend over the sink. The cold press of lubed silicone against his hole made Hudson whimper, his fingers gripping the porcelain as Sebastian pushed it in with a slow, deliberate twist.
Sebastian admired his handiwork—Hudson’s hole stretched around the base, still glistening—then patted his ass with a smirk. “And look at that, no mess.” He leaned in, breath hot against Hudson’s ear. “Plus, my cum’ll keep you slick for round two later.” The plug settled snugly inside Hudson, a constant, teasing pressure as he straightened up, his legs unsteady. Sebastian washed his hands casually, like he hadn’t just ruined Hudson for the foreseeable future, and tossed him a wink. “Clean up the mess and go say hi to your aunt.”
With a final glance at Hudson’s flushed face in the mirror, Sebastian cracked the door open silently, scanning the hall before slipping out—his footsteps fading into the muffled chaos of a house preparing for Thanksgiving. The latch clicked shut, sealing Hudson in with the scent of lavender lotion, sweat, and sex thick in the air. Alone, Hudson exhaled shakily, gripping the sink as the plug shifted inside him with every slight movement.
His knees trembled when he straightened, thighs slick with sweat and the remnants of Sebastian’s touch, but the feeling was delicious—heavy-limbed and sated, like his body had been rewired. He splashed water on his face, watching droplets trail down his reflection’s neck—the same path Sebastian’s tongue had taken—before blotting his skin with a towel. The soft ache in his muscles was a brand; the plug nestled inside him a promise. He grabbed a square of toilet paper and started to wipe up the mess around him.
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