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Peyton's breath caught in his chest. "Oh…you…” It was like his deepest, quietest fantasies coming to life which was dangerous because he wanted Hudson so much, but he knew Hudson didn’t want him back. It was a miracle they were friends. But God, the way Hudson was looking at him? Hope flared, bright and dangerous in his chest.
Hudson glanced away. “I didn't mean…” Hudson fumbled, then cleared his throat. “I can explain it, so the next person you go on a date with can use it on you."
A moment passed, and Peyton didn't really understand what his heart or his head were doing, but he suddenly felt desperate to make sure Hudson understood that he didn't care about future lovers. He wanted Hudson.
Hudson had done this forhim. He'd designed something for him.
“I'd like it to be you.”
Hudson froze, blinking rapidly, and the barest hint of a smile played at his lips, almost like he was afraid to believe Peyton's words. “Why?”
Peyton grinned at the sound of his short name on Hudson’s lips. “Because I like you. I’m probably obvious, and you probably think I’m some annoying asshole who keeps imposing on you, but—”
“Kiss me,” Hudson interrupted.
In that moment, it felt like time stopped, and Peyton thought maybe he’d forgotten how to breathe.
“I’m sorry,” Hudson said quickly, and Peyton deflated. He tried to pull back and stand up, but Hudson didn’t let him get far. He twisted their fingers together, holding Peyton in a tight grip, and he waited in silence until Peyton met his gaze. “I’ve been afraid of how you make me feel since we met. You were gorgeous and so nice, and it was everything I had been craving for so long. But the idea that I could be vulnerable again, only to be crushed? It was too much.”
Peyton didn’t really understand. Not with any experience. But still knew exactly what Hudson was saying. He knew what the fear was like of putting himself out there only to be rejected for something he couldn’t control.
But enough was enough. He was done second guessing. Hudson wanted him, and while he could acknowledge Hudson’s fear, he was done letting it rule the moment.
“Say it again,” he murmured.
Hudson was staring at where they were touching, and he took a breath, then looked up. “Kiss me.”
So Peyton did. He surged forward and closed the gap between them. It wasn’t the easiest kiss sitting sideways on the sofa and their knees in the way, but Hudson gave as good as he got. He gathered Peyton as close as he could, opening his mouth, tasting him with a sweet, coffee-flavored tongue.
With a measure of shock, Peyton felt his dick starting to harden. His face went warm, his hands trembling as he dug his fingers into the front of Hudson’s shirt. A small voice told him that he should take it slow, but a louder voice reminded him they’d been taking it slow for ages.
This had been a slow burn of resentment which had turned into something so much more—so much deeper and beautiful, and Peyton realized he was absolutely ready to give himself over.
“Fuck.Hudson...I'm hard."
“I know, darling,” Hudson murmured.
A rush of heat raced under Peyton’s skin at the soft term of endearment. God, how many times had he fantasized about a big, gorgeous man who loved him enough to call him something so sweet? And he had been utterly convinced until this moment that it would never happen to him.
“You don't understand. I haven't gotten hard since my surgery. I-I need you,” he said, letting instinct take over. “Please…”
“Yes,” Hudson said. His fingers flexed on Peyton’s hips, then he let go. “My bedroom. Second door on the right. Bring the toy. I’ll meet you there.”
Peyton moved before he could really let himself think about what he was doing. His shaking hands swept the toy into his arms, then he hurried down the hall. He could hear the muffled parrot scream behind the first closed door, but he ignored it and slipped inside, glancing around. Hudson’s room was tidy and sparsely decorated with a short dresser, a bed low to the ground, and a bathroom without a door. There was a lamp in the corner that was turned off, and all the blinds were half-drawn, so it was dark and moody.
In short, it was very Hudson.
Peyton wasn’t quite sure what to do with himself, so he tossed the toy on the edge of the bed, then sat down. He couldn’t hear anything happening and for a brief, wild moment he thought maybe Hudson had abandoned him. Maybe it was pity. Maybe he panicked and left and was waiting for Peyton to figure it out.
He stopped himself, wanting to shout at his ugly little voice of anxiety that wouldn’t leave him alone. There was no need to panic like this. No need to believe anything his inner voice was saying. Hudson liked him. Hudson wanted him.
He wasn’t lying.
Several minutes passed before Hudson appeared, now in his wheelchair, his face still a little flushed. He had his lower lip between his teeth and when he let it go, it was plump and red, and Peyton wanted to taste it.
“Sorry. I had uh…body stuff to deal with.”
Peyton gave his bag a slight pat, relieved to find it still empty. “You don’t have to explain any of that to me.”
