“No shit.”
“You were ordered to pull back.” Shaw’s voice cut straight through the air between them. “By me. Multiple times. And you didn’t.”
“My people were on the ground.”
Shaw stepped forward. “I don’t give a shit. I watched your marker go down and I—” He stopped. Restarted. “You don’t get to do that. You don't get to be reckless and then walk in here like it’s nothing.”
“I’m not. I made a call?—”
“You made a call.” Shaw laughed, short and humorless. “Right. Like you always do. And everyone else is just along for the ride.”
Hudson straightened. “Well, it worked out pretty fucking great, if you ask me.”
“This time.” Shaw’s voice cracked on the words. “It worked outthistime. What about next time? What about the time after that?”
“Wouldn’t I be doing you a favor? Making this whole thing tidier for you? No messy feelings, no unanswered texts, just?—”
“Don’t.” Shaw’s voice dropped dangerously low. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
“Why not?” Hudson stepped toward him. “We’re nothing, right? Not a couple, never were.”
“That’s not?—”
“You said my name on those comms today like it meant something and then I land and you’re straight back to ‘medical, now’ like I’m just another?—”
“I thought you were dead, goddamnit.” The words came out ragged. “I thought you…”
“Jesus Christ, Elliot. What’s it gonna be?” Hudson's hands trembled. He clenched them at his side, feeling his injured wrist ache. “If you care so much, why didn’t you answer my text?”
Shaw not answering hurt his feelings—there was no way around it. He was hurt, and he had promised himself never to speak of that stupid text again.
Still, he continued. “You know how hard it was for me to say something like that? And you went dark. That was a dick move.”
“Not everyone gets to say what’s on their mind.” They were a few feet apart now. “You have no idea what it’s like to not be allowed to want things.”
“Your father’s not here, Elliot.”
“I know.Putain!”
“Then act like it. You’ve been blaming him for everything your entire life and at some point—” Hudson closed the remaining distance between them, his chest almost touching Shaw’s. “At some point it stops being his fault.”
“Fuck you.”
“Say that again.” Hudson stared him straight in the eye.
“Fuck. You.” Shaw said again and shoved him—both hands, hard against his chest.
Hudson stumbled back, surprised but also relieved to finally see Shaw lose his composure.
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—”
