Sturdy. Don Juan's mouth had gone dry. A perfect excuse to make more progress on his drink... but a poor choice in the end, it turned out, because he was mid-sip when Hudson asked his next question and the frankness of it nearly made Don Juan choke on the whiskey. He set the glass down in a hurry and rubbed the back of his hand against his mouth as his initial snort of surprise turned into a laugh — of delight at the situation, or maybe at himself. He felt entirely obvious, in a way that he was unused to. Hudson had set him off-kilter as soon as they'd started up the stairs to the flat, and he hadn't found a way to right himself yet.

Not that it mattered; if Hudson found his fumbling off-putting, he wasn't signaling it very well. He'd given him a clear invitation, and he wasn't going to have to repeat it. With the whiskey glass out of the way, Don Juan launched himself from his seat and moved to straddle Hudson's lap, then brought his mouth hungrily to the other man's.

---