Chapter 31 #2
They were both breathing hard.
Shaw clenched a fistful of Hudson’s shirt, and for a second Hudson thought he was going to take a swing at him. He searched Shaw’s eyes for any kind of indication of his next move. They were dark and conflicted, dropping swiftly to Hudson’s lips.
Shaw shoved him so hard against the damaged hull that the metal rang, and then he kissed him—furiously.
Hudson grabbed Shaw's neck to keep upright, while Shaw bit down on his lower lip hard enough to leave a mark.
“Ow—”
“Shut up.”
“You shut up.”
They stumbled sideways, then back through a door on the far end Hudson hadn’t noticed. A small, dark equipment room that reeked of machine oil and metal. Shelving units covered the walls, crates stacked in the far corner. A single utility light buzzed overhead.
Hudson almost laughed.
Of course. Six years and they were back in a storage room. Some things didn’t change no matter how many deployments or hotel rooms or West Coast sunsets in between. He’d thought, at some point after Selection, that he was done with this—done with hiding.
Apparently not.
Apparently this was all they would ever have.
Shaw kissed him again. His hands clutched at Hudson’s belt, impatiently yanking at the straps. Hudson pulled Shaw’s shirt off before his wrists were pinned above his head. Both wrist and ribs screamed in protest, but not enough for Hudson to say stop.
He tested the grip. Shaw tightened it.
“Really?” Hudson said.
“Really.” Shaw’s eyes were dark, his breath shallow, still furious somewhere underneath all of it. “Turn around.”
Hudson’s stomach dropped in the best possible way.
He turned, still keeping his hands above his head.
Shaw pressed up behind him, one hand flat against the shelving beside Hudson’s head, the other working Hudson’s pants down.
Hudson gripped a metal beam tightly. His brain drifted pleasantly offline, heat blooming at every point of contact—Shaw’s chest against his back, Shaw’s mouth at the back of his nape, Shaw’s erection pressing against his ass.
"Still mad at me?" Hudson breathed.
"Yes." Shaw’s hand moved to his crease and Hudson's head dropped forward. "Now shut up."
Hudson did as he was told.
Shaw spat into his palm behind him and Hudson’s hips pushed back in response. Shaw worked him open with two fingers, quick and a little desperate—enough to make it workable, not enough to make it painless. Neither of them seemed to care.
Hudson's breath caught. His fingers curled against the shelving. "Fuck—" He exhaled through his teeth. "More."
Shaw added a third finger and Hudson swore at the ceiling.
“Jesus fucking Christ— Yes—”
Just as Hudson felt pre-cum drip from his cock, Shaw pulled out his fingers. The sudden emptiness made him whimper.
Shaw spat once more and Hudson felt it land in his crease. Shaw aligned himself and pushed in, making Hudson wince at the contact. Pain hit immediately. It was so fucking hot, Hudson’s vision blurred.
"You like that?" Shaw whispered against his ear.
"Fuck, yes." Hudson's voice came out low and raspy. "You’re killing me."
“Keep acting like a maniac and you’ll do that yourself.”
“You’re an… asshole,” Hudson managed.
Shaw picked up the pace and Hudson's forehead dropped against the shelving with a clang he was going to feel tomorrow. Shaw filled him to the brim and the burning sensation was all consuming. It wasn't gentle. It wasn't supposed to be.
Shaw set a rhythm that had Hudson gripping the shelf for leverage. The shelving unit rattled against the wall with every thrust. A box fell off the top shelf and neither of them acknowledged it.
"Hudson— I’m gonna come in you."
His name on Shaw’s lips, hoarse and undone, made his balls pull up.
Shaw gripped his hips so hard he was sure it was going to bruise. He sped up, thrusting into Hudson with a complete lack of control.
In a rush of French swear words, Shaw spilled into him, pressing his forehead between Hudson’s shoulder blades.
A second later, Hudson came too, hands free. He bit into his arm to muffle his cry—hard enough to taste blood.
The utility light buzzed overhead, their ragged breathing loud in the tiny closet.
“Fuck,” Hudson said.
Shaw’s forehead rested firmly against his back. Hudson felt him exhale, before he straightened and pulled out, leaving Hudson hollow in more ways than one.
Hudson pulled his pants up and turned around. Shaw was already buckling his belt.
When he looked up, their eyes locked.
“Why didn’t you answer my text?” Hudson said. No point in postponing the inevitable.
“I don’t know.”
“Please. Can we be real for a second?”
Leaning against the shelves behind him, Shaw stuck his hands into his pockets. “Fine. Because I was scared.”
“Scared of what?” Hudson wanted to know. He needed to know. If this was it, if Shaw was done, he could accept that. He was almost certain he could. But Shaw had to say it to his face.
“Scared that something might happen to me out here—” He stopped. “And we would never get to say goodbye. I didn’t want to leave you with that.”
Hudson stared at him. “So you left me with nothing instead?”
“Yes.” Shaw held his gaze.
“That’s—” Hudson laughed, but there was no humor in it. “That’s the most Elliot Shaw thing I’ve ever heard.”
He didn’t respond.
“You could have just told me that you didn’t feel the same way.” Hudson said. “I mean, it would have sucked. But it would have been better than not knowing.”
“I know.” Shaw’s voice was rough. “I’m sorry.”
“Okay. Well… Glad we got that sorted.” Hudson turned to leave but Shaw grabbed his hand.
Taking a step forward, he positioned himself right in front of Hudson. They were so close that he felt Shaw’s warm breath on his cheek. Shaw didn’t let go of him. “That’s not how I feel, Hudson. You know it’s not.”
Hudson searched his eyes. “I don’t know, Elliot. You say one thing, but do—”
Before he got to finish, Shaw’s lips were on his. Not hard and demanding like before. He kissed with so much affection, so much tenderness that Hudson felt his eyes sting. He squeezed them shut and kissed Shaw back, his tongue tentatively searching for contact.
When they parted, Hudson could have sworn Shaw’s eyes were wet too, before he blinked it away.
Shaw rested his forehead against his. “I like you, too, okay? More than I’ve liked anyone in my entire life.”