tenderhearted.

On camera, the makeup they used to cover their tattoos was very effective. Up close, though, the location of Hudson’s ’sex sells’ tattoo was noticeable.

And Connor was definitely up close. He was lying between Hudson’s legs, about to fake giving him a blowjob. Hudson had let his legs fall to the mattress when they’d yelled cut, his entire body relaxing. Connor had dropped his head to the mattress between his thighs.

Connor’s thumb slid lightly along the edge of the makeup, and Hudson’s leg twitched. He lifted his head to glance down at Connor, who pulled his hand back. Hudson shook his head, smiling.

“It’s okay, baby,” he said, casually.

It had been a year, but seeing his own tattoo still made Connor’s stomach do a weird flip. Hudson’s drove him crazy. At first it had been especially heady, the link between them, the knowledge that they were permanently marked externally as well as whatever had happened inside of him over the course of filming.

And then it had been grounding, once everything blew up. It had been such a relief to Connor through the insanity that had overtaken his life, to remind himself that he had Hudson. He could curl his knees to his chest and stroke his tattoo with his thumb and wonder if Hudson could feel it. Sometimes, when fabric brushed his thigh, he pretended it was the feeling of Hudson touching his own tattoo.

“Wonder how long the makeup will last there,” Hudson said. “It’s gonna get a lot more friction than the others.”

Connor grinned. “It will.” Connor’s finger was still running over the makeup, probably not helping, but he couldn’t stop.

Hudson shifted slightly. “Connie…” he murmured, a slight warning in his voice.

Connor grinned up at him sheepishly as he moved his hand away. “Sorry,” he mouthed.

But Hudson smiled down at him warmly as he adjusted his cock sock. God, he was so fucking hot.

“Okay, guys, still awake?” Jacob called.

Connor pulled himself up again, scooting down the bed. “Yep,” he said, as Hudson planted his feet on the mattress.

“Let’s go,” Hudson said, winking up at Connor.

Fuck.

“Action.”

Connor leaned down again, sliding his hands up Hudson’s legs like they’d rehearsed, aware of the blocking and where he needed to be for the camera angles to work as he crawled up the bed.