In your sandox what would be your personal most perfect juiciest dream scenario for Hudcon’s first time together?
been agonising about this all morning WHAT a question
so I will answer this assuming that it didn't happen in the past (because I can't choose, too many options) and pick future instead. has to be end of s2 shooting. four (?!) months of emotional edging. living in each other's pockets. on set, boyfriends in love, off set, friends in love, where's the line? hanging out all the time. moving from staying up until 3am just talking in the beginning, because there's SO much to catch up on, until the routine sets in and it's more like quiet nights just being in each other's company, feet or heads in laps, existing around each other. you brush your teeth first, I'll shower. a hot water bottle body at night, they only kiss sometimes if it's been a rough day on set and they need to feel grounded again.
but the peace has to end, weeks dripping into days, and the playing house turned from being fun and cute to something that is like the building blocks of a life. and the question of, what is it you really want? because I think I want this. me too. I think I can't live without it now. and they're both wound up so tight, a big tense coil of love, a deep hard ache of want. it's just another Monday night, five days left on the shoot, the first time either of them brings the topic up and it's not even like a dam bursts or anything, just like a soft sigh, the satisfying sound of zipper teeth pulling up, a button popping. I want you, only you. I'm yours, only yours. over dinner, plates discarded half-eaten, kiss slow then hot, clothes off, walking backwards to the bedroom (do people do this? yes, you do, now) everything feels so familiar but different. so it turns out that noise was Shane, that face was Ilya. those hands were them, these gentle ones are us. it's not what looks good now, it's what feels good, no invisible hands puppeteering them, just the way he looks when he breathes out all shaky, yes, like that, yeah, that feels so good, Connor, you feel amazing, so good, Hudson, so good. and they always laughed at people who were like, oh yeah, we didn't get out of bed all weekend. (do people do this? ) but they stay there, rumpling the sheets all evening, through the early hours of the morning, even though they have a 6:30am alarm and it's a 12-hour day the next day. like they got their first taste of honey after a life chewing on roots and salad leaves their whole lives. like opening the window after a thunderstorm and smelling petrichor on the fresh breeze. the first strong sunny day in the spring. everything has changed except nothing really has, because they were already basically here, but now they know. the show will always be a capsule of the time before. everything they have now, the way their bodies move and how they touch each other, is not for the cameras, not for Jacob or Chala or the editing team or Crave or HBO or the fans anyone else. just them, and only them, forever and always.
