Chapter Text
THUD.
The sickening drop of a body sent a shock right through Hudson. In a matter of seconds, he located the body. In fact, it appears that this mafia is slightly clueless.
His hand doesn’t shake as he turns the door handle, but he nearly loses his balance when the door is pushed open.
Callum is stood above Luke’s still body. Callum, who he’s trusted fully for years. The same Callum who Hudson has cherished in his mind for months. He’s stood over a bloodstained corpse, with not a trace of remorse.
Luke, who’s been one of the closest people in Hudson’s life. He was gone, just like that. At the hands of Callum too.
Hudson doesn’t know who to mourn. The loss of who he once knew as Callum, or Luke, who’s truly lifeless.
At a loss for words, Hudson instinctively draws his pistol from its holster. The sharp clack of metal finally pulls Callum from his daze.
“…Hudson?”
Callum breathes out, his bright eyes wide with terror. The blade in his hands clatters to the tiled floor. He takes a few shaky steps towards Hudson.
“Huddy.. I promise, it’s not what it looks like.”
A blatant lie, but something in Hudson wants to believe his soft words nonetheless. He looks down slightly, Callum’s hands are streaked with blood. He intertwines their fingers anyway.
Theres no witch around, but it still feels like his voice has been stolen right from him. Callum was one of the few Hudson had been tracking down this entire time. There’s no word to describe the sinking feeling in his gut.
He lets the pistol clatter to the floor. He laces his fingers into Callum’s hair, his other hand now coated in blood from holding Callum’s— presses to his back. Hudson tugs Callum to his chest, hugging him tight.
It’s insane, given their situation. But to Hudson, there was not a person in this world who could compare to the one in his arms.
“Callum… Callum, why?..”
Hudson whispered, still clinging onto hope that there was any rational explanation for this. After minutes of deafening silence, Hudson realises he isn’t going to get the answer he wanted. Rather, he wasn’t going to get any answer at all.
Hudson bends down to retrieve the gun. Callum follows before he can stand back up. His palm covering the barrel, the terror in his eyes completely gone. Instead, he looks at Hudson with a terribly soft expression.
Any sensible thought Hudson still had left was slowly being melted away by Callum. There was truly nothing that made him weak like he did.
“Are you really going to shoot me, Hud?”
Callum looked him directly in the eye, the green of his iris was almost gone. He looked innocent. Nothing like a killer with blood on his hands.
Hudson’s finger hesitates on the trigger. If he shoots, his mind will be at peace. On the other hand, losing Callum would shatter his heart.
Callum pushes the barrel towards the floor. Still staring at Hudson with that same sickeningly sweet look in his eyes.
“You don’t have to do it, Huddy. I’ll make sure the town doesn’t know you saw me, no one will place you at fault.”
Callum is singlehandedly breaking his resolve into fragments. His hands cup Hudson’s face, smearing more blood over him. Yet.. he can’t find it in him to care.
“I love you, Hudson Sterling.”
Callum brushes Hudson’s hair out of his eyes, planting a soft kiss to his temple. He notices that Hudson’s eyes are glossed over.
“Huddy, don’t cry. You’re not scared of me, are you?”
Callum’s tone is so soft. Hudson shakes his head, how could Callum ever scare him?
“Good, I would never hurt you, there’s no need for you to be so anxious.”
Hudson finally looks him in the eye. There’s not a drop of hate in his gaze, he looks at Callum like he always has. A slight change that Callum didn’t pick up.. there’s a piercing conflict in Hudson’s mind.
He can’t kill this man. He truly cannot. On one hand, Hudson truly despises the mafia, and he can’t stand to witness murder. He grips the pistol, and releases it yet again. Callum… his dear Callum. Not once did Hudson ever consider he could be a murderer.
Callum, who spent countless nights with Hudson. The two of them doing nothing but basking in each other’s presence.
The cold tile presses into his knees. Everything is terribly cold. The air reeks of pool water. The scent of Callum’s cologne wraps around him like an invisible warmth. But now, even that familiar warmth feels strange.
Hudson barely recognises the man in front of him. He stares into the depths of Callum’s eyes, searching for any reason at all. Hudson’s chest pounds as he realises—
He loves this man, no matter what.
Hudson’s face softens , and Callum reacts immediately. He watches every movement of Hudson’s face carefully.
“Huddy what’s wrong? You don’t have to hide anything from me. Please..?”
He whispers, sounding almost pained. In fear, shakily trying to push the pistol in Hudson’s hand away from him.
Hudson lets his grip on the metal go. It clatters to the cold tile.
He can’t do it. Callum murdered Luke in cold blood, and perhaps Hudson will never forgive him for that.
Yet… it’s still better than losing him entirely.
Hudson lets himself fall apart in front of Callum, tears flowing freely, silently.
“Oh Hud… please don’t cry. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry… I’ll give you a proper explanation, and I’ll make it up to you..”
Callum has his arms wrapped around Hudson, his face buried into the other man’s neck. Basking in each other’s warmth, a familiar, welcoming feeling.
Hudson finally lets go. He presses Callum’s body tightly to his, because he’s the one thing Hudson can’t stand to lose.
“You’d better have a good reason then.”