as with everything else she does, she handles this with grace. in a chilly italy, she had pulled them into a cobbled alleyway and instructed them to stand face to face. watched their mirrored grins as they dipped into each other’s orbit, two magnets almost near enough to snap into one. squared her shoulders with a nod. her ruling: when you’re together, but not forever. her permission was an answered prayer he hadn’t dared speak. god! he loves her. she gives and gives and gives. in the moment, he was high on her blessing and his mouth on connor’s neck back at the hotel, pupils blown apart like scattered spacedust at the beginning of the universe watching the two people he loves kiss wet and messy, too hard and blissed out see the bite, the competition in their spit.
but now it’s months later, packing for summer camp and that expiration date is weighing heavy. more than he realizes, maybe. tugging at his eyelashes, sour accusations on his tongue. doesn’t she know how much love he can hold? hasn’t he shown her? he was right, wasn’t he? he made it — doesn’t he deserve this? but she hasn’t brought it up since venice, and he’s a coward, because she could take it all away. she could pull the tablecloth from under him and send him crashing down like the world’s shittiest magic trick. so he pretends not to feel her lingering at the doorway as he carefully tucks all of connor’s little gifts from all those little countries into his suitcase (a new dream journal, bound in blue-green leather, like his eyes. a tiny blown glass clown figurine. an 18k white gold horseshoe earring charm). he lets her drift to sleep without another Conversation. he schedules an uber to the airport and turns off her alarm so she can sleep in. all the miles behind him feel like an unspooling of tension he’s not quite ready to examine.
his phone’s still on airplane mode when he arrives in toronto. they’re in a two bedroom this time (they’ll be sharing a bed anyway, trim the budget and the pretense. jacob knows better). connor’s there first, pulling open the door with a smile so wide his teeth must be aching, sunkissed and moisturized, and then hudson sees a bookmark in the novella he bought connor for SNL on the couch and hudson just. crumbles. tears stinging and bottom lip wobbling pathetically. he apologizes profusely and connor doesn’t have to ask, anyway. just pulls hudson inside, onto his lap, and kisses him. kisses the salt from his cheeks. kisses him lower, and kisses him through a shuddery orgasm that whites out everything else, at least for now.
hudson takes and takes and takes.
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
areudirty
ellievsbear
amandla
gamechangershow
andulkaphoto
stormborns
romaincrisis
