Work Text:
I.
The first time it happens — or at the very least Hudson has the vaguest awareness of it, is while they’re on set between takes.
They’d just finished a particularly emotionally charged scene, so Hudson does a little shake of his arms and legs, letting out drawn out exhales so that he could move on to the next thing which was a complete contrast of the previous scene.
“Good job, babe,” he hears, with a barely there nudge of his forearm. He glances upward and Connor is just passing him by, trailed closely by his hair and makeup team. Hudson furrows his brow and shakes his head.
Perhaps he was just imagining things. Then again, he was already privy to Connor’s penchant for bestowing the cast and crew with a myriad of creative nicknames. And it fell into the realm of possibility that he wasn’t immune to Connor’s nicknames.
He decides to think little of it, chalking it to the emotional intensity of what they’d just worked on, letting the slightest flutter in his chest rise, and pass him quickly by.
This’ll pass, he thinks.
For now.
II.
“Hey babe, pass me my phone real quick?” Connor gestures at Hudson with a relaxed wave, barely looking up from where he's half buried in his script.
“Huh — oh, yeah, okay,” Hudson says, feeling faintly like his mind’s just short circuited. He wonders if it should be a cause of concern for him, the fact that he somehow has an inbuilt sixth sense of where Connor’s placed his phone this time. Like a drawn out game of Where’s Waldo, except that it’s whatever of Connor’s personal effects he’s decided to leave lying around set for the day.
“Here,” Hudson presses Connor’s phone to his palm, making sure that Connor had a sufficiently firm grip. It doesn’t escape Hudson’s notice that Connor’s fingers brush against his in the few seconds of the exchange.
“Thanks,” Connor says with a casual sniff. “Can always count on you,” he says with that crooked grin of his, eyes glinting with mischief.
“What would you do without me,” Hudson manages to jibe back, chest feeling slightly warm as soon as the words escape him.
“That’s why I always need you,” Connor says, shrugging. “To tell me where I’ve put my phone this time,” he adds quickly.
Hudson can’t help but chuckle. “So I’m your glorified butler, then?” Connor scratches at his shoulder, laughing. “Maybe a little more than that,” he says with a faint wink, and sure enough, he’s started to make himself scarce yet again.
Hudson blinks at Connor’s retreating figure, but just like before and all the other times in between where Connor's decided to pepper the nickname in his sentences like a punctuation mark, he decidedly thinks very little of it.
III.
The press tour for the show starts to border on new levels of insane, the two of them being thrust in front of cameras and bright set lighting for hours on end. Hudson feels like he’s on the edge of a raging migraine, but thanks to Connor’s seemingly eternally chipper nature, it distracts him for a while.
They’re being asked to reply to fans’ text messages, which is nice and something refreshing compared to the usual fare of sit down interviews.
Of course, it wouldn’t be illogical to expect a certain level of professionalism at these things, but then again, Connor had a particular ability to make everyone around expect the unexpected.
The first few are pretty funny and witty, Hudson has to admit, and he’s enjoying himself, that is until Connor throws him a curveball.
“This one’s for you, babe,” Connor says, their shoulders brushing as they were throughout the whole time they’d been plastered in front of the camera.
He should be long used to it by now, Hudson thinks, and thankfully the glare of the lights along with the fact that his eyes are trained on the screen gives him back enough focus to read whatever message the poor fan’s sent.
Later, when the Etalk staff have asked them to promote the final cut on their social media accounts, Hudson decides to have a good look at it.
When he gets to that part, however, Hudson sucks in a breath. He presses a finger to the screen, staring at the still frame for a moment.
Sure, it could all be casual for Connor, but for Hudson at least, he’d finally mustered the courage to admit that things had started to feel a little less than casual for himself, a while ago.
Now, he’d have to think how to put a cap on these sneaky feelings threatening to shove their way out of his system. And soon, he hopes.
IV.
“You clean up nice, babe,” Connor regards Hudson with an approving nod when Hudson’s made his presence felt at the Elle party.
Hudson just smiles, opting not to say anything lest something he doesn’t want to let escape, leaves his lips. He decides to distract himself with the camcorder one of the Elle staff has shoved in his hand, telling him to go have fun with it, whatever the hell that meant.
He decides to let himself relax in the presence of his castmates and crewmates, who are wearing matching blinding grins and faces with varying degrees of redness. Between attempting to balance the camcorder in one hand and feeding himself with the other, various castmates swoop in to appear in frame.
Connor decides to press his cheek against the side of Hudson’s face, waving a peace sign less than gracefully to the camera. “Hey,” he drawls, purposely adding more length to the word than necessary. “Cameraman’s a real cutie,” he cackles, before Hudson can feel Connor turning to leave the faintest of pecks to his cheek.
What was that, Hudson thinks, blinking. And of course, Connor’s vanished somewhere again.
Hudson sighs, rolling his eyes. He secretly hopes Elle’s editors would ignore that. After he thinks he’s gotten enough footage, he manages to locate one of the staff, who gratefully takes the camcorder with a knowing smile before she passes it on to another actor.
He does end up finding Connor much later on at the balcony of the ballroom, looking out to the skyline. It’s reminiscent of one of the scenes that, at least for Hudson, were more memorable.
“Tired of the party already?” Hudson breaks the silence, hands in the pockets of his dress pants as he stands near Connor, leaning against the railing.
“Hah, nope,” Connor shakes his head. “Wanted a quick breather, yes. But was also kind of hoping you’d show up.”
Me? Hudson blurts, just as soon as the thought’s entered his mind.
“Yeah,” Connor lifts a hand to brush through the hair at the back of his head. His tongue darts out to lick at his lower lip and there’s something about that, even after everything they’ve done for the cameras, that makes Hudson more nervous.
Connor takes another step into Hudson’s space. “Mm,” he hums. “Always looking for you.”
Hudson tilts his head, confusion contorting his features. He tries not to get too lost in the way Connor looked in the low light.
“Hah,” Hudson rolls his eyes, chalking it up to Connor’s usual teasing, his affection that always seemed so casual.
Connor leans closer, their noses inches apart now. “Babe,” he murmurs, voice low. “You can’t be that oblivious.”
Hudson takes half a step back, but doesn’t move his hand from where Connor’s got his own hand gently pressed above his on the stone railing.
“Ah,” Hudson mutters. “So the, uh, nickname wasn’t just all for shits and giggles, then,” Hudson averts Connor’s gaze, until Connor’s got his free hand gently lifting Hudson’s chin so they’re now eye to eye.
“No,” Connor says simply, and there’s a weight of certainty in his voice now.
“Okay,” Hudson replies dumbly.
Connor’s thumb brushes against Hudson’s cheek, and Hudson can feel the slight tremble of his fingers.
He lets Connor lean in, his eyes fluttering closed as he feels his heart grow several sizes.
+1
They’re sidled up on Connor’s couch, dressed for a cosy night in. Connor’s got his head pressed to the side of Hudson’s neck, hands intertwined as Hudson uses his free hand to scroll through Netflix on his remote.
A short bout of bickering later and they decide to pick the cheesiest, most stereotypical romantic movie ever so that they can talk shit about it between bites of popcorn and some kisses, hopefully.
Connor makes a brief whine of complaint when Hudson gets up to dim the lights of the living room, and curls in close into Hudson’s touch happily when he returns to his empty spot on the couch.
The introductory scenes of the movie appear to be too-long shots of New York City, so Hudson grabs his phone to thumb through Instagram, landing on one of his earlier posts - a carousel recapping the wild year or so he’d had on set. Where it’d all began with Connor.
Connor appears to be already drawn into the movie, his gaze not parting from the screen. Hudson clicks the comment section where sure enough, right above over the sea of others, is Connor’s comment from what seems like eons ago.
connorstorrieofficial You’re mine
“I meant it, you know,” Hudson nearly leaps off the couch, almost elbowing Connor in the process.
“Thought you were sucked into the movie,” Hudson says, quickly pressing the lock button on his phone.
“Uh, yeah, until I saw you weren’t being a good moviegoer, Hudson,” Connor replies with a sarcastic drawl. Hudson snorts.
“But yeah, in case you were dying of curiosity, I already knew. From way back then,” Connor says, the corner of his lips curling up into one of those half smiles that Hudson finds he wants nothing more than to commit to memory.
Hudson opts to say nothing, and instead settles on squeezing Connor’s hand back.
“Put that phone down, babe,” Connor murmurs, clamoring over Hudson so his body now envelopes his, “and kiss me, please.”
Hudson chuckles as he does as he’s told, and he’s sure Connor can feel him smiling.