Hudson took his time preparing them both, watching Shaw’s face the whole time. He lay still underneath him, tracking his every move with a curious look in his eyes.
When they were both ready, Hudson positioned himself and sank down slowly.
“Oh, Jesus Christ—” Shaw’s head dropped back against the pillow. His hands tightened on Hudson’s hips, a low sound escaping his lips.
His eyes closed.
“Hi,” Hudson said softly.
Shaw opened them again.
“Keep looking at me.”
Hudson set the pace, slow at first. Shaw's hands slid up and down his body—restless, like he didn't know where to put them. Hudson grabbed one and pressed it flat against his sternum, letting Shaw feel his heartbeat.
Shaw's breath caught.
Hudson kept going, his eyes never leaving Shaw’s. When he rolled his hips, Shaw's head pressed back into the pillow, exposing his throat. Hudson leaned down and put his mouth there, kissing the sensitive skin, sucking his soft earlobe. Shaw’s pulse jumped under his lips.
"Hudson—"
"Yeah," Hudson said against his neck. "Say my name."
“Hudson.” A warning now, breathless. “This is?—”
When Hudson moved faster, they both moaned incoherent words.
Shaw closed his hand around Hudson’s cock, making him come in a rush, spilling onto Shaw’s chest. Shaw followed seconds later, gripping Hudson’s thighs so hard he was sure it left a mark.
He collapsed forward onto Shaw’s chest and Shaw closed his arms around him.
They lay there, breathing hard.
“Well, that worked,” Hudson said finally.
“Mhm.” Shaw’s hand moved up and down his back. “Adequately.”
Hudson lifted his head. “Adequately?”
“Satisfactorily.”
“Shaw—”
“Elliot,” he corrected again.
Hudson dropped his head back onto his chest. “Elliot.”
Shaw’s hand kept moving, grounding him.
His stomach coiled. He hadn’t told Shaw that he was leaving in two weeks to do another tour in Afghanistan. He hadn’t thought it mattered to be honest. But something had changed over the course of the weekend. Leaving suddenly felt significant in a way it didn’t use to.
Still, he didn’t say anything. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t ruin this.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
HUDSON
Five years after Selection
