Don Juan didn't really understand the statement. Well, he did on one level, because he knew what words meant. He didn't understand why Hudson was saying it, though. It wasn't like this was some big revelation. He was often high on nights like these — it might have even been fair to say that lately if he was awake at this time of night he was high more often than not. He couldn't really say for certain, since he still didn't know what time it was.

"Yes," he agreed. No use denying the obvious. He also still didn't understand exactly how this was relevant. He was certainly still present enough to let Hudson have his way with him. No danger of throwing up on his shoes, or anything. He didn't even feel nauseous, he didn't think.

"Are you going to fuck me or not?" he asked. It wasn't a real question; it was the tone you would use to tease a friend for being slow to get their coat on when everyone else was already waiting at the door. The sex seemed an inevitability; he wanted Hudson to hurry up and kiss him.

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