"I'm not going to pull away.”
"Everyone says that,” Mitchell said matter-of-factly.
Hudson reached out and gripped Shaw's forearm below the elbow. Heat seared through his palm, smooth skin over solid muscle.
"Get in closer," Mitchell said. "He's stronger than he looks."
Hudson stepped forward, chest to Shaw’s defined back. His heart rate kicked up. His throat went dry.
He’d touched plenty of guys during training—grappling, sparring, hauling someone’s ass out of the mud—but this felt different. His upper body pressed into Shaw’s, fingers wrapping around his forearm. Shaw’s pulse beat rapidly under Hudson’s grip, even though his face showed nothing.
Mitchell took Shaw's hand in both of hers, fingers probing carefully along the bones. "This is going to hurt."
"It’s okay,” Shaw said flatly.
She pressed down.
Shaw inhaled through his nose, every muscle in his arm going rigid under Hudson's touch.
"Breathe," Hudson said before he could stop himself.
Shaw glanced at him over his shoulder. "Iambreathing."
"Could've fooled me."
Mitchell manipulated something and Shaw's entire body went taut. Hudson tightened his grip, anchoring him.
"Almost done," she assured him.
Hudson didn’t know which of them she was trying to calm.
He suddenly didn't give a shit about the hand. Not when Shaw’s spine aligned with his chest. When he was noticing a birthmark below Shaw’s hairline. His pulse beating visibly at the base of his throat—revealing his discomfort.
Hudson’s exhale stirred the short hairs at Shaw’s nape.
It all hit him at once. The forced proximity and the messed up state of Shaw’s hand. Swollen and bloody. His stomach turned and the room tilted.
Oh fuck.
He swayed a little.
"You good?" Shaw asked, voice strained but somehow still managing to sound amused.
"Fine."
Nurse Mitchell did something else—something that involved a crack Hudson felt more than heard—and Shaw went rigid again. Hudson's vision swam.
"Hale," Shaw said, more serious now. "You look terrible."
"I'm all right."
"You're about to pass out."
"I'm not?—"
The room tilted further. His grip on Shaw's arm loosened and he took a step back, trying to find balance that had apparently decided to abandon him entirely.
"Sit down." Mitchell didn’t even look up. "Head between your knees. Now."
