This is a non-consensual gay erotic story, all characters are 18 or over.
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Chase had never thought breaking into his own house would be so stupidly difficult— but apparently, ingesting copious amounts of stollen alcohol beforehand really didn't make things very easy.
He had only just managed to crack open the side window and slide his torso through, before something large and unyielding suddenly grasped the collar of his shirt and yanked him through the windowsill.
He fell hard to the ground, hitting his chin on the corner of something sharp as he tried to roll away from what had grabbed him, only for a strong hand to wind into his hair and drag him back, pain instantly shooting through his scalp.
"Ow, ow, f-fuck! Please!"
He slurred, his panicked words somehow blending with the drunken haze he was trapped in, making the world around him spin on its axis, leaving him dizzy and nauseous.
"I hope for your sake that you aren't fucking drunk right now, boy."
Chase's eyes widened, his heart hammering wildly in his chest as he recognised the deep voice booming above him, the rough squeeze of the cruel hand still twisted in his hair.
Everything hurt, but in that moment, every inch of him went numb.
Hudson.
"What did I tell you, huh? I told you not to try that shit while you're under my fucking roof, remember?"
Chase flinched at the tone in his voice, the bitter and unfamiliar coldness that underlined every word.
He had never seen Hudson this angry before, no matter how hard he had tried in the past to get on his nerves. The man was like a brick wall. Impenetrable.
"I didn't do it under your roof."
Chase muttered, only to cry out when Hudson tightened his grip in his hair.
"Don't get smart with me, boy. I'm not in the mood."
He finally, mercifully let Chase go, letting him drop to the floor in a heap, with Chase clutching at his burning scalp as he glared up at Hudso.
"What's the big deal? I'm 18, it's basically legal to drink in most places now and—"
"Does it look like I give a shit about any of that? I told you the rules and you broke them. Big time."
Chase flinched at the look in Hudson's eyes, only to finally rein himself in when he realised what he was doing. He wouldn't let Hudson treat him this way. The bastard had no right.
"So, what are you going to do? Huh? Just kick me out then. I'm an adult now, I don't need to listen to you, I don't need to stay in this shithole anymore and you don't get to—"
Pain shot through Chase's cheek— the sudden and unexpected impact of Hudson's hand across his face, snapping his head to the side, left him gasping. He pressed a shakey hand to his stinging cheek, the shock of it all leaving him wide-eyed and shivering. No one had ever slapped him before.
Hudson watched him from above, a strange shadow passing over his face before he finally leaned down, capturing Chase by the back of his neck when he went to move away from him. He was close to his ear, his hot breath ghosting over his flesh.
"I promised your mother that I would take care of you after she was gone, and that's what I've done. I've put up with your shit these past few years, I've kept you housed, kept you fed, made sure you turned into a halfway decent human being— all for her. I'm done now."
There was an eerie pause before he spoke again, and when he did, all the blood drained from Chase's face.
"You're right. You're an adult now, so I'm going to treat you like one."
He lunged for him then, and Chase choked on a sudden panicked scream that Hudson quickly muffled behind his large hand, silencing Chase's terror and cutting off his air.
He picked him up as if he weighed nothing and he threw him belly first over the nearby dining table, exhibiting a strength Chase had never witnessed first-hand before.
He felt the wood underneath him, cold and disarming, felt the edge of it biting into his hips. It hurt. Everything hurt.
He could feel Hudson's hard body behind him. Felt his heat invading his skin.
Chase hadn't sat at this table in years, choosing instead to take his food into his room or eat on the couch in front of the TV. It had just felt... wrong, to do it without her. He couldn't bare the thought of pulling up a chair and finding her's empty in front of him.
He remembered vaguely what it felt like, to sit at the table with his mother on one side and Hudson on the other. They had been happy then, even if Chase hadn't realised it at the time. He had never liked Hudson as his mother's boyfriend, and liked him even less as her husband... but he hadn't been so bad then, not really.
Hudson was different now.
Perhaps it was his mother's death, that had changed his stepfather into the man he was today... or maybe... maybe it was Chase who was responsible for that.
He had given the man hell for years after she had passed, had tortured him in anyway he possibly could in his unwavering grief. It wasn't Hudson's fault, but he blamed him for her being gone. Blamed him for everything.
"You want to throw your life away? Wanna waste every opportunity to get the future she wanted for you— to what? Become some street brat hopped up on coke, selling your ass for the next high?"
Chase's eyes widened when he felt his pants being roughly tugged down, his underwear coming next so that the calloused hand behind him was now pressed up against his bare skin.
"I can give you a nice taste of the life you want so badly."
Chase screamed into the table when the first smack came, leaving him reeling into the cool wood pressed hard against his aching cheek.
He wished he had eaten at the table more. Maybe he could have felt closer to her, maybe he could have—
Another hard slap vibrated against his naked ass, sending a wave of heat over his burning flesh— then another, and another, until Chase lost count of each painful blow.
