"Let me," he murmured, his breath warm against Hudson’s skin.
Hudson wasn't going to argue with that.
Warm fingers traced lower—past Hudson’s balls, brushing over his hole. Hudson froze.
Shaw stilled too. "This okay?"
"Yeah." Hudson's voice came out wrecked. "Don't stop."
Shaw didn’t. His finger circled the sensitive spot slowly, the sensation almost too much to bear. Hudson’s hips moved without his permission. His throat produced soundshe’d never made before and he couldn’t bring himself to care.
Shaw worked him like that for a while, before easing a finger into him. His other hand still stroked Hudson’s cock in a slow, building rhythm. The stretch and the friction together made Hudson’s vision blur. When Shaw pressed deeper and curled?—
“Fuck—” Hudson breathed. “Right there?—”
"Good?" Shaw murmured against his neck.
"Yeah.Jesus. Really good." He was literally panting the words.
Shaw smiled against his skin.
"Shaw—" Hudson’s hand gripped his shoulder. "I want more. I need you to?—"
"I know," Shaw croaked. "But I don't have a condom."
Hudson blinked at the ceiling, trying to reassemble his thoughts. "Are you serious?"
"Yes. Why would I bring a condom here?"
"Right. Are you clean?"
Shaw eyed him incredulously. "Hale?—"
"I'm clean. I've been tested." His pulse was hammering. "Are you?"
"I get tested regularly." Shaw's voice was tight. "But that's not the point.”
"Then what’s the point?" Hudson moved closer, refusing to let this end here. "We're both clean. We both want this." His eyes dropped to Shaw’s mouth, then back up. "Please."
He didn’t even recognize his own voice. Heneverbegged. But he had also never wanted anything this much. Despite the panic and uncertainty.
Shaw stared at him, dumbfounded. Then he reached for his pack. He pulled out a small jar. "Vaseline. It's not ideal but it'll work."
Hudson stared at it. "You just... carry that around?"
"For blisters. Chafing." Shaw's mouth curved slightly. "It's practical."
"Practical. Sure." Hudson's heart was going at about twice its normal rate.
Shaw coated his fingers without breaking eye contact, set the jar aside and put a hand on Hudson’s chest. "Lie down.”
He did as he was told. A little too eager, probably.
Shaw’s mouth was back on Hudson’s as his fingers slowly opened him up. When Hudson stopped tensing and started pushing back, Shaw settled between Hudson’s legs. He withdrew his fingers and put one hand under Hudson’s ass, lifting him up. After applying a generous amount of vaseline, Shaw aligned himself against him and pushed in lightly. Hudson's whole body locked up. Pain and pleasure tangled together and he couldn’t tell which was which. He didn’t care.
“Are you okay?” Shaw asked in a strangled voice.
Hudson nodded and clamped his mouth shut, trying to contain a sound that was a mixture of a yelp and a moan. The pressure was enormous, so much bigger than Shaw’s fingers.
