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Connor felt ecstatic! So many people he wanted to meet, so many delicious foods and drinks he'd never tasted—it was all too intoxicating for the boy from South Texas. He felt his pulse pounding, the yellow lights accentuating the fast-paced conversation in the room, but he needed some air, which meant he also needed a cigarette.
He patted his suit pocket, checking that his cigarette was there, and crossed the room to the door of one of the building's balconies. He was so immersed in the voices and people around him that he barely noticed the place was already occupied. He immediately hurried to apologize when his eyes met the brownest eyes he had ever seen, pure honey melted into molasses. Hudson . His soulmate, Connor would venture to say.
“Ah, I… I’m sorry.” He hurried to say, and only then did his eyes slide over the rest of the scene.
A stunning woman was inches away from sitting on his best friend's lap. Just best friend? An irritating voice whispered in the back of his mind. Her brown hair cascaded down, a seductive smile etched on her delicately made-up face. She was beautiful , and even a man as gay as Connor could see it. They were beautiful. "I, um… didn't know I was being occupied," he apologized, perhaps closing the door a little too forcefully, the image of slender fingers sliding along the inside of his thigh, red-painted lips whispering something against the sensitive skin of his neck. Something twisted in his solar plexus, and he felt the air leave his lungs. That irritatingly charming and unassuming smile on Hudson's lips trembled as something must have shown on Connor's face.
He crossed the room with hurried steps, the euphoria fading in his chest. The party forgotten. He noticed another part of the building with a balcony and fumbled in his pocket, desperate for a cigarette more than ever.
To his right he could see the city lights shining in the distance, and he found himself exhaling deeply as his fingers touched the balcony railing. He exhaled, drawing fresh air into his lungs, and waited for the grey haze in his head to dissipate.
He closed his eyes and focused on his breathing, visualizing happy moments: him being greeted by fans, his sister congratulating him on the success of the series, Jacob looking at him and saying he was a great actor, Hudson… Hudson, with that spontaneous way of his, sporting his characteristic smile, saying that he admired Connor so much and that he would love him forever.
He blinked and pushed the images from his head, which gave way to others, like Hudson looking intensely at him in that hotel room, saying how much he missed him, kissing him, leaving him breathless, making Connor tremble, his body, alive for what seemed like years, awakening to life with just one kiss, so different from all the others they had exchanged, like Shane and Ilya.
His hands gripped the railing tighter as images of him and Hudson kissing were replaced by long, brown hair.
Shit …
"I found you." He almost jumped at the sound of the voice.
“I’m not hiding,” he retorts, surprised by the coldness in his voice… he’s not like this, he doesn’t act like this. He needs to get out of here.
“What’s the problem?” Hudson appears in his field of vision, and the confidence he’s gained quickly vanishes when their eyes meet. Hudson seems to be approaching a wounded animal; Connor hates that look in his eyes. He’s confused, he doesn’t understand why Connor is acting this way. Connor reads him as he reads himself. It’s written all over Hudson’s face that he has no idea what made Connor nervous.
"None, I just wanted to smoke a little." He says this in a tone he thinks is neutral, it sounds more like him, at least that's what he thinks.
Hudson approaches, and he feels more than he sees; he refuses to look at him. The New York skyline greets him, and Hudson's now-covered shoulders brush against his own; he tries to pretend it doesn't affect him.
"Connor, what do you think you saw back there?" Hudson begins, but Connor interrupts him.
"We didn't talk about it, whatever it is, but it's all right." He forces a smile and feels it looks more like a grimace.
“Are you okay?” Hudson seems genuinely confused. Connor exhales before forcing the words out of him.
"Stay with her... the girl who was with you."
“Conn-
"That's good, seriously. We need to further separate our image from each other."
Hudson takes a step back, looking like someone who's been slapped in the face. "What? What are you talking about?"
“Outside of the series, we need to maintain a limit; people already speculate too much about us. We showed up here today and we hugged as if we hadn’t seen each other in a century when we were together just a few hours ago.” He laughed humorlessly. “Don’t you realize what that might look like? People—”
“I want people to fuck off!” – his tone sounding genuinely exasperated. “I said it once and I’ll say it again, I fucking don’t care what people think, I’m not going to stop showing how I feel. Never! Not with you. I don’t care about other people’s opinions and neither should you, I thought that after what happened yesterday we—”
"That was a mistake," Connor whispers, his voice trembling as do his hands, and he shoves it into his coat pocket.
“A mistake…” Betrayal appears in Hudson’s brown eyes, and he feels the urge to go to him and brush away that stubborn strand of hair that insists on staying in his face.
“Yes,” he wanted to sound more certain than he seemed, “I’m not like you, I can’t help but care, we have something big here, Hudson.” He takes a step towards the door before turning his head and confessing, “What we have is special, you feel it, I feel it, but we have a career and people who depend on us, as a team, as friends and partners… on set.”
“Scene partners?” Hudson laughed humorlessly. “Are you listening to yourself? Yes, you’re right, we have something big here.” He walks confidently toward Connor, who takes a step back, his back against the cold railing. “But you and I, this is something bigger, this— ” he says, bringing his hand to Connor’s face, his fingers against his cheek, the warm touch. He holds his chin between his fingers; there’s a hint of vulnerability in his eyes that he rarely allowed himself to show. “I won’t lose you because of what people will think, Connor.”
“Well, you were in a pretty good mood a few minutes ago,” Connor exhales, lost in the dark orbs, the light reflecting off his back making everything more intimate.
“The girl, she was kind of bold, yeah, but nothing more than a random flirt, Connor. I was getting up when you showed up.”
Connor shakes his head and murmurs, "But that wouldn't be a bad idea."
Hudson shakes his head, half incredulous, "So what you're saying is that I should, like, go back there and fuck her?"
Connor shudders at the harsh words.
"I'm saying you can do whatever you want." He regrets the words as soon as they leave his lips.
Hudson takes a step back and shakes his head as if shocked, and for the first time Connor sees him struggling with his words.
As if by divine intervention, the door opens and his manager appears, saying something about someone who wants to meet him. He straightens his suit and painfully walks away from Hudson, who stands there looking lost.
Connor says, "Okay, really! We're fine."
He tries to appear reassuring even though he feels heartbroken. He forces a smile and goes back to the party.
[•••]
There's a girl trying to talk to Hudson, but not that he cares; he only has eyes for the man in front of him, displaying a radiant smile, those long fingers running through his silky light curls. He's touched him there many times; he loves how they curl at the ends, the softness, the scent. He feels like he's going to slip out of his skin.
"I'm saying you can do whatever you want."
The words echo in his brain, hindering his reasoning. He gulps down the shot of straight whiskey in one gulp, slamming the glass a little harder than necessary on the bar. The girl who had previously tried to strike up a conversation with him quickly gives up and blends into the sea of bodies in the room.
"Everything's fine, really! We're good."
Bullshit! Hudson recognized that smile; it was the smile Connor gave when he didn't know how to deal with some negative feeling. He was upset, hurt… his mouth said so, but his voice trembled slightly as he spoke, and Hudson knew he was hurt.
His fingers tightened on the rim of the glass to contain his temper. Seeing Connor hurt was something that made something inside Hudson give way, as if nothing else mattered besides hurting whoever caused Connor discomfort; it had always been like that with them, this protective instinct that consumed their veins every time the mere mention of causing Connor suffering was heard.
But the worst thing that was tearing his body apart at that moment was knowing that he was the cause of it. He needed to talk to Connor away from here, away from these people.
“Hi!” He turns around and the woman from earlier, the one who was dangerously close to touching his cock, sits in the empty space the other girl left. “I just wanted to apologize for earlier, I didn’t know you had a partner, I-”
"Partner?"
She looks confused. "Yes, your boyfriend," she says as if it were obvious, pointing to where Connor is now sitting, staring at the two of them with a serious expression on his handsome face and fiery blue eyes. Hudson would find it sexy if it weren't for the hurt and jealousy he could see behind it.
“He’s my friend, my co-star, we’re not together like that.” The weight of that statement tightens his chest because, unlike what Connor thinks, Hudson knows that what they had wasn’t a mistake, it was the best thing that could have happened to him.
"Ah yes! I see..." she said incredulously, "so you're available?" she asked in a seductive tone.
And as before, he doesn't feel his body reacting to the promises in her voice.
"I'm sorry, you're beautiful but—"
“No, no, kitten, I’ll erase your words.” She looks at Connor again and turns her face back to the headphone jack. “I understand.” She winks at him and leaves as quickly as she arrived.
His eyes gravitate, as always, to the blond man, and the next moment his attention turns to the hand of the man beside Connor on his lower back, a little lower than acceptable. He feels his jaw clench and something burning inside him, an energy. He wants to hit something, or more specifically the tall, polished-looking man who is excitedly leading Connor into another room.
Hudson doesn't hesitate before standing up and following them, not so stealthily; a part of him wants to go up to them, remove that disgusting hand from Connie's back, throw it over his shoulder, and take the blonde away.
Hudson knows it's a foolish thought, he's better than that, but Connor brings out all sides of him, the best and worst of him in every measure. He's never felt possessive, he's a modern man, he's been in an open relationship for three fucking years, for God's sake! The man laughs nauseatingly, and he feels like he's going to vomit at the way Connor's eyelashes tremble under the lights, he seems fascinated by whatever he's hearing and Hudson feels like he has water in his ears, his eyes like a hawk following Connor's every step, he's not being subtle, he knows it, Conor too, by the way he seems restless, his shoulders tense and his gaze darting back every two seconds.
He sees Connor gently push away the hand of the man who looks at him with clear devotion. Like everyone else, obviously, because we're talking about Connor, he shines brighter than the sun itself. The man replies something, and then Connor leaves, his slender body weaving through the crowd, his hurried pace as if he were fleeing from Hudson.
Hudson takes a determined step and follows him without losing sight of him, his broad shoulders, slim waist, and the occasional sway of his hips, and damn, that round, firm ass, the stuff of Hudson's most profane fantasies. He feels the sweat on the back of his neck, his heart beating in the same rhythm as his hard cock inside his pants. Connor turns left and enters what appears to be a guest bathroom; Hudson follows him in, and their eyes meet the reflection in the giant mirror above the sink.
Connor exhales as if he's not surprised that Hudson is there, but at the same time as if he's afraid of it. Without thinking much, Hudson turns the key, and the sound of the door closing is briefly heard over their panting breaths.
[•••]
Connor spent the entire night feeling eyes on the back of his neck, and every time he turned around, Hudson was staring at him like a hawk.
Now, through the reflection in the mirror, he assesses him, from his well-polished shoes, that stubborn strand of hair falling across his forehead. He felt his fingers twitching to touch it. Something in his expression makes Hudson move closer to his accounts.
Connor holds his breath as Hudson's strong body envelops his, his firm chest pressed against his back. He swears he can feel how fast his heart is beating.
“What are you doing?” comes out weaker than he thought. Hudson says nothing, terribly quiet, breathing heavily and staring at Connor with an almost primal expression. “I, I have to go,” he says, and only because he still feels hurt by what he witnessed earlier does he comment, “I was invited to an after-party at this businessman’s house—”
“No, you won’t!” his voice was deadly serious. Part of Connor wanted to rebel, push Hudson away, tell him he had no right to demand anything from Connor; the other part wanted to bend down and let Hudson fuck him hard against the marble sink.
“You’re right, we’re about to embark on the biggest madness that could happen to us, but you’re wrong about one thing.” Connor feels like he’s under a spell; he can only stare at Hudson’s firm expression, his gaze terrifying and electrifying.
"In what?"
“That this is a mistake…” He circles Connor’s waist, connecting their bodies even more, “us.” He slides a hand across Connor’s chest, his warm palm spreading across his stomach. Connor holds his breath. “This can’t be a mistake, baby. Look at us, how could this be wrong?” His deep voice sends vibrations through Connor’s stomach, and he feels himself tighten in his dress pants.
“ Huddy ” comes out as a plea, a request. He doesn’t know. The hand caressing his chest slides down his body until it reaches the zipper of his pants; he doesn’t hesitate before pulling it down, his fingers slipping inside Connor’s underwear and circling his penis. “Ah! God!” He rubs himself brazenly against Hudson, Hudson’s erection against his lower back.
“Yes baby, that’s it. Look at you, all flushed and breathless. You drive me crazy.” His other hand rises and he slips it inside Connor’s shirt, twisting his erect nipple between his fingers, a decidedly unmanly moan escapes him. Later, Connor would think it was embarrassing, but at this moment he doesn’t care; he just wants Hudson touching him, feeling the weight of their bodies, drowning in his warmth. “Open your eyes.” He doesn’t hesitate to obey, not even realizing he had closed them.
The image in the mirror is obscene, his hard, red cock fucking Hudson's hand, his erratic hips swaying against the growing erection. "Please."
"I know what you need."
He's turned over and placed on the sink counter, his cock slapping against his lower abdomen. He doesn't have time to think before he feels Hudson's hand encircling him again. He's leaking so much he doesn't feel any friction, Hudson's hand sliding over his erection with just the right pressure to make his eyes roll back.
“Damn! You’re leaking like crazy!” Hudson looks as breathless as Connor. “How could I have eyes for anyone else when you’re in the room, baby? You’re the sun itself, consuming everything.”
Connor felt consumed, and he wanted it; he wanted to be consumed, every part of him inside Hudson; he wanted them to merge into one, just so he would never feel Hudson outside of him.
“I’m going to cum,” he barely finishes speaking before his cum spills all over Hudson’s hand and part of his abdomen. He digs his hands into Hudson’s neck at the same time Hudson takes his mouth in a kiss. He tries to keep up, but his body is limp, malleable. He just lies there breathing through his nose, his mouth being ravaged with a wet sound. Hudson slowly pulls away, his eyes unfocused as if he were the one who had just come.
The air crackles between them. Hudson releases his sensitive penis and reaches out, wiping away Connor's semen with a tissue.
Connor feels raw, exposed. Happy.
Hudson tucks his worn-out cock back into his pants, zips them up, helps Connor to his feet again, and unexpectedly hugs him. Tightly.
"I want this, I want us, and I know you do too. I don't know if I believe in that esoteric stuff about soulmates, but I know this is real, you and I... we're real, I want this with you."
“Me too,” he says, feeling raw. His voice is too low for Hudson to hear, but Hudson hears him because he flashes that smile that Connor likes best, the one reserved only for him.
They kiss again, less frantically, sweetly. He savors the cinnamon taste of that candy Hudson is always chewing and a hint of alcohol from the whiskey he drank earlier, which is intoxicating. He feels drunk.
“Here’s what we’re going to do, mi amor,” the affection warms her heart and body. “We’re going back to the hotel and I’m going to kiss every mole on your body, I’m going to open you up for my cock and you’re going to come after I fill you to the brim with my cum, then we’re going to take a shower and I’m going to hug you and tell you that you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever had the privilege of touching. What do you think of that?”
"I think you only want me for my butt."
“You can’t blame me,” he laughed, squeezing Connor’s butt, “it’s a spectacular butt, the butt of the century.”
And they burst into laughter. Connor feels like he's floating; this is them, and at the same time, it's all new. He feels euphoric, as if he could climb a mountain or reach the sky. Deep down, he's afraid of this new, unknown feeling, but he knows that if Hudson is with him, he'll be okay. They'll do this. Together.