“Depends. You saying yes?”
They talkedfor another twenty minutes before exchanging numbers. Hudson walked back to Taylor’sapartment in a daze, ribs aching, wrist pounding, his brain doing a loop of “did I just get asked out by a guy in a coffee shop” and “why am I this excited about it.”
Turns out Hudson was right to be excited. Marcus was funny and smart and didn’t seem to give a shit about Hudson being a mess. When they texted later that night, Marcus sent him a picture of a helicopter in a museum with the caption “grounded and thriving. take notes” and Hudson laughed so hard his ribs screamed.
They got coffee the next day. Dinner two days after that. Spent an entire afternoon walking through Prospect Park while Marcus told increasingly ridiculous stories about whatever it was he did with data and community health programs that somehow kept being hilarious.
Hudson ended up at Marcus's apartment in the East Village one night after dinner. They were barely through the door before they were kissing and Marcus pushed him against the wall.
"This okay?" Marcus asked, hands already under Hudson's shirt, careful around the bandages on his ribs.
"Oh yeah."
The sex was good. Like really good. Marcus knew what he was doing, and Hudson didn't have to explain anything or fake interest or worry about whether he was feeling too much or not enough. He went with it—all of it—and it was easy in a way he hadn’t experienced before.
They fell into a routine over the next couple of weeks. Physical therapy in the mornings, then Hudson would text Marcus, and they’d meet up for dinner or a movie or end up at Marcus’ place ordering takeout, hooking up and falling asleep while Netflix played in the background.
Marcus’s apartment was small but funky. There were actual living plants, books organized by color—which was fucking insane but also kind of hot—and sophisticated arton the walls. Marcus sang in the shower, badly, and didn't care. He had friends who texted him constantly and a sister in Denmark he video-called every Sunday. His life had roots.
Hudson’s life was a duffel bag, whatever base he was stationed at and the sky.
Civilian life was surprisingly nice. Maybe dating someone outside the military was the answer. A place to come home to without having to risk everything. Which was a weird thing to realize two weeks before deploying again, but whatever. Hudson had never been good at timing.
One afternoon, Hudson showed up at Marcus's place after a somewhat painful run. Marcus was writing at the kitchen table, and Hudson was bored and restless.
He came up behind Marcus, hands on his shoulders. “How’s it going?”
“Slowly.” Marcus didn’t look up from his laptop. “I’ve rewritten this paragraph five times.”
“Sounds terrible.” Hudson leaned down and kissed his neck. “You should really take a break.”
“I can’t?—”
“Fifteen minutes.” Hudson’s hands slid down Marcus’s chest. “Come on. You’ve been working for hours.”
Marcus turned in his chair and eyed Hudson’s mischievous smile. “You’re supposed to let me finish this section.”
“Your thesis can wait.” Hudson’s hands traveled down further and cupped Marcus’s growing erection. “This, on the other hand, can’t.”
They ended up on Marcus's couch. Hudson on his knees between Marcus’s legs, Marcus with his head leaned back. Judging by the sounds escaping him, he enjoyed what Hudson was doing with his tongue—a lot.
When they had both gotten off, Marcus kissed him once more, then went back to his laptop. "Thesis awaits."
Hudson grabbed his phone off the coffee table, scrolling absentmindedly through messages. "I'm gonna go grab a shower."
"Take your time."
The water pressure was shit but Hudson relished the warmth anyway, trying to get his brain to cooperate. Another few days and he'd be cleared. Back to flying. Back to Afghanistan. Back to his actual life.
His phone rang in the living room.
"Hudson!" Marcus called. "Your phone!"
"Can you see who it is?" Hudson yelled back.
A pause. "It says Shaw."
Hudson nearly dropped the soap. Shaw never called. In fact, Hudson had barely heard from him since last Christmas. Something was off.
