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They had just wrapped filming the previous week, and Connor was back in LA, which felt very weird now. Not just because the city was so different from Ontario, and because he had literally nothing to do in contrast to the past two months of working nearly every waking moment, but also because Hudson wasn’t here, and it felt like a limb was missing from his body.
A therapist would probably call it codependency, but he hadn’t been to a therapist in a few years. He should probably go back. The thoughts racing through his head couldn’t possibly be healthy.
He and Hudson FaceTimed every day, sometimes more than once, but it wasn’t the same. It wasn’t enough. He missed Hudson’s weird noises and stupid jokes. He missed the way Hudson would make faces at him or play footsie under the table whenever they were supposed to be having serious meetings. He missed being able to just wrap his arms around Hudson at any minute and breathe in his scent like life-giving oxygen. He missed Hudson coming into his room at night and fucking him til he saw stars.
He wondered what the socially acceptable timeframe would be to invite Hudson to come visit LA.
He tossed his phone across the room so he wouldn’t be tempted, then lay back on his bed, lazily jerking off to the memories. Their first time, when Hudson had been so gentle, like he was scared to hurt him, and Connor had to convince him he wasn’t breakable. The times after that where Hudson slowly learned that Connor was serious when he said he didn’t have any limits. The times when Hudson put that to the test and gave Connor the best fucking orgasms of his life.
He got close to coming, and then pulled his hand away, thinking about Hudson edging him. He would get him so close, then just smirk and laugh when he pulled away, waiting for him to get desperate enough to start begging. And Connor would beg, no matter how pathetic it made him, because well, he was pathetic, wasn’t he? He wanted Hudson so bad that it was all he could think about. He needed him.
Fuck, he needed him right now.
Before he could stop himself, he was already up and going for his phone. See? Pathetic. His cock was still achingly hard, standing straight out and mocking him, when he pressed call on Hudson’s contact.
“Connie baby!” Hudson greeted cheerfully. Connor dug his fingernails into his hip bone, because it would be entirely too humiliating to come from just Hudson’s voice.
“Huddy,” he said back, much softer, a little raspy.
“What’s up, baby boy?”
Connor bit his lip. God this was so embarrassing. He sat back down on the bed, tugging at a loose thread in the duvet cover. “Nothing much, just looking at my schedule for the next few weeks and wondering if you wanted to come hang out in LA at some point.”
“Aww, he misses me!” Hudson gloated. Connor rolled his eyes, grateful that Hudson couldn’t see the current state he was in, because he’d be absolutely insufferable about it.
“Miss your dick,” he retorted, not that that was any better.
Hudson laughed. “Okay yeah, let me check my calendar.”
Connor may have accidentally let an impatient whine escape from his lips. And of course Hudson heard it.
“So needy, babe. I’ll be there soon, I promise.” Then after a beat, “What made you ask out of the blue? Were you jerking off and thinking about me?”
“No,” Connor said, because technically he had stopped jerking off, and that’s what made him want to call Hudson.
“Liar,” Hudson said in a horrible attempt at a Russian accent. The fact that Hudson had picked up more Ilya vocal stims than he had endlessly amused him. Hudson hadn’t even been in that scene, just lurking and watching Connor film, because they were already inseparable at that point.
Connor huffed. “Was thinking about that time you didn’t let me come for three days.”
He could practically hear Hudson’s smirk. “You cried twice.”
Connor dropped his head back onto his pillow as his cock throbbed. He could cry right now, honestly. Really, he was never more than five minutes from crying at any given point in his life. It was currently inching closer to a minute. Like a friggin doomsday clock.
Hudson hummed. “If I get a plane ticket for Wednesday, will you be able to keep from coming until then?”
It was Saturday. Connor whimpered.
“Do it for me, please?” Hudson asked, and Connor imagined his puppy dog eyes, and the battle was lost before it even began.
He turned to bury his face in the pillow and gave a muffled “Yes.”
“Good boy,” Hudson murmured. Oh this was going to be pure torture. Then Hudson sighed. “Baby, I have to go, I’m meeting my mom for lunch. Are you gonna be okay? I won’t be mad if you break.”
Connor took a shaky breath and nodded, then remembered Hudson couldn’t see him. “I won’t break,” he promised. He knew he could do it. For Hudson, he could do anything.
“I’ll send you my flight details. Can’t wait to see you.” Hudson gushed, and then he was gone, and Connor was questioning every life decision that led him to this point. He immediately went to take an ice cold shower.
He should have known Hudson wouldn’t make it easy for him. Connor received no less than seven dick pics over the next few days, along with the foulest texts of what Hudson promised he would do to Connor when he saw him. Thank god he didn’t have anything important to do that week.
When Hudson’s evil little ass (and it was little, in comparison to Connor’s, thank you very much) finally arrived at Connor’s doorstep, Connor was torn between fighting him on sight, and dropping to his knees right there in the hallway and begging. Thankfully, Hudson was just as desperate as he was, and as soon as the door was closed, he was clawing at Connor’s clothes. He kissed Connor messily and hungrily, and Connor just melted, pulling Hudson close against him, trying to wordlessly convey how much he missed him, how much he needed him, that he would do anything for him.
Hudson cupped his face with his hands, forcing their gazes to meet. Connor blinked once, then stared into those sparkling brown eyes, enraptured, and wondering how he got lucky enough to have Hudson in his life, and what he would have to do to keep him there forever. Hudson’s thumb stroked over his cheek, and Connor shivered.
“You were such a good boy for me, weren’t you?” Hudson hummed, and Connor nodded, eyes starting to glaze over. Hudson trailed his hand down Connor’s chest. “And what should your reward be?” He asked.
Connor swallowed. “You,” he managed to say, because his brain had stopped working the minute he’d looked into Hudson’s eyes. And then, “Please.”
Hudson smiled, squeezing Connor’s side. “Hard or soft?”
Connor looked down. “Soft.” It came out in barely a whisper, like he didn’t deserve to ask, but then Hudson wrapped his arms around Connor and hugged him so tight, and Connor wondered how the boy always seemed to know exactly what he needed in any moment.
“I got you, baby,” Hudson murmured against his cheek like a promise, and Connor let him push him back towards the bedroom and lay him down on the bed and slowly strip his clothes off while kissing what seemed like every inch of his skin. Hudson kissed along his hip bones, and down the insides of his thighs, then slotted himself between his legs, pressing his whole body up against him as he leaned in to kiss him again, so painfully sweet. Connor might actually cry.
Instead, he closed his eyes and clung to Hudson as the other slowly slid inside him. It was insane that they had only met a few months ago, and he was this addicted to Hudson already. He had not done anything in his life that would deserve the sweetness with which Hudson treated him. The complete care and understanding he had for Connor’s needs. The way he’d sacrifice himself to make Connor happy. Deep down, Connor knew they were already on borrowed time, but he selfishly wouldn’t give this up for anything. He tried his best not to think about the day when Hudson would find someone better and rightfully move on.
As Hudson continued to slowly fuck into him, taking his time, giving him his entire length with each thrust, Connor’s thoughts continued to spiral. He wanted so badly for Hudson to just claim him, make him his own, and to be able to say the same, that Hudson was his. But he had no right to that claim, and no right to expect it from Hudson. Not after such a short time, and not when he was fully aware of how amazing Hudson was, and how he could literally have anyone he wanted. Who was Connor to deny him the opportunity?
But still, he dug his fingers into Hudson’s shoulders, holding him closer. Even if he couldn’t have him forever, he could have him for now. And that could be enough. It had to be.
Fuck, he needed something to get him out of his thoughts. Needed Hudson to take over and make his mind go completely blank. It was part of why their dynamic worked so well. Hudson would make him do the wildest things, and Connor would just let himself be a brainless slut, no thoughts in his head, just Hudson, consuming every part of him.
He reached for Hudson’s wrist, pulling his hand up to his neck and curling Hudson’s fingers around his throat. Hudson blinked at him for a second, and then bit his lower lip. “Yeah, baby? Is that what you want?”
Connor nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Hudson smiled and kissed him, then slowly but steadily applied pressure to the sides of Connor’s neck with his fingers, cutting off the blood flow to his head, quieting his thoughts. With his mind deliciously blank, Connor could focus just on the feeling of Hudson’s cock inside him, and the way he was pressed so close to Connor, with Connor’s cock trapped in between their bodies. Connor’s eyes rolled back, his mouth falling open with a soundless moan.
“Fuck, you look so good,” Hudson breathed out. “So exposed and vulnerable…” He pressed down lightly on Connor’s trachea, not actually cutting off his air, but reminding him that he could. Connor wasn’t sure he’d even try to stop him. Hudson swiped his thumb along Connor’s bottom lip, then pushed it into his mouth. Connor immediately licked it then sucked down, and Hudson chucked softly. “That’s my little slut,” he murmured, and Connor let out a noise somewhere between a whimper and a sob.
“Please,” he managed to gasp out around Hudson’s finger. Hudson cocked his head, obviously knowing what Connor was asking for, but making him say it. “P-please, can I come?” He brought his hand back up to cover Hudson’s, guiding him to choke him again. Hudson obliged, squeezing harder this time as he nodded.
“Yes, baby, come for me.” Hudson snapped his hips, fucking harder into Connor, and Connor’s vision went fuzzy at the edges as his back arched up off the bed.
He felt Hudson coming inside him at the exact moment that he came, and god was that a magical feeling. He sank back down into the mattress, eyes unfocused and breathing shallow. Hudson relieved the pressure on his throat, but didn’t pull his hand away, keeping his fingers wrapped around Connor’s neck like a collar. Connor swallowed hard before letting himself think too much about that.
“You good, Connie?” Hudson asked, his other hand rubbing soft circles at Connor’s hip. Connor nodded slowly, gradually coming back into himself. Hudson pressed a kiss to his chest. “That was a lot, and you did so good,” he praised.
Connor gave a soft smile, assuring Hudson he was okay. He couldn’t let him know that his words, likely said completely causally in the heat of the moment, were going to be replaying in his head for eternity. My little slut. It sent a shudder through him. It was everything he wanted. But it was bittersweet, because he knew Hudson didn’t mean it with the same weight. Hudson loved pet names, loved egging him on with dirty talk. This was just a new extension of that, not any sort of statement like Connor wished it could be.
Hudson rested his chin in Connor’s chest and looked up at him with those big brown eyes. “You’re still in your head, what’s going on, baby?” He asked, brows furrowed.
Connor sighed and shook his head. “I’m fine, I promise,” he said, squeezing Hudson’s hand. “That was really incredible. Thank you.”
Hudson’s expression softened. “Of course, bubu. Any time.”
Connor gave himself one last moment of yearning, then pulled it together, looking down at Hudson with his lips in a pout. “Gimme kiss,” he demanded, catching Hudson off guard and pulling a genuine laugh from him, before he obliged, happily planting his lips on Connor’s.
That night, after a shower and a nap, they decided to go out so Connor could show Hudson around WeHo. The chance of anyone recognizing them was extremely low, and Connor promised that even if someone did, the gays would be super chill about it. Hudson said he wasn’t worried, he didn’t care if people made any assumptions about him—it wasn’t like he was trying to hide his bisexuality. They had agreed though that they didn’t want anyone to know about them in a together kind of way. Not that they were actually in a relationship, but whatever they were was far too complicated to even label for themselves, much less for the world.
Connor bit his lip when Hudson walked out of the closet in a pair of Connor’s tight leather pants and a cut off tank top with armholes that exposed his ribs. He’d tied a flannel shirt around his waist and grabbed a trucker hat from Connor’s extensive collection. He looked fucking stunning, and Connor wanted to tell him he’d changed his mind about going out, because Hudson was going to be eaten alive at the club. But then Hudson was the one who grabbed Connor by the belt loops and pulled him in for a kiss, saying “Fuck, you’re hot,” with a feral grin.
So they went out, and they danced, and they drank, and they got In-N-Out on the way home, and Connor made fun of Hudson for not liking fries, and Hudson shoved said fries in Connor’s mouth, and they drank a milkshake with two straws, and Hudson got him off in the back of an uber with a hand over his mouth to keep him quiet, and Connor, for the second time that day, thought that maybe he was in love. But when they climbed into bed, and Hudson wrapped himself around Connor, slipping his hands under his tee shirt and nuzzling his nose into the back of his neck, Connor knew. He was a goner.