As things started to move Don Juan still had the nagging feeling that maybe the conversation hadn't gone as splendidly as he'd gathered. He'd been so expecting that Hudson would be disappointed, or maybe even derisive of Don Juan's inability to keep up; not having seen either of these, he still worried they'd been there and he'd overlooked them, or failed to uncover them. A side effect of not having prepared for this conversation properly; he hadn't known what he was going to say, and hadn't known what to look for. And Hudson was disappointed in him, he could sense. It took him a while to pinpoint what it was that lead to the conclusion, and finally realized: the way Hudson touched him was so slow.

He was doing it on purpose, Don Juan realized. Last week Don Juan had asked if Hudson was trying to scare him away; now he was deliberately trying not to.

I'm not going to break, he considered saying, but — maybe that was the sort of thing Hudson would enjoy, if they were going about things the other way. Maybe he would relish pushing Don Juan up until he broke. Maybe that was what their relationship before had always been building up to — pushing within reason at first, but then growing a tolerance towards more. Maybe now that they'd removed the destination, Hudson had defaulted back to... this.

So Don Juan didn't say anything; he didn't know what to say, or what to ask. Instead he pushed farther into Hudson's lap and snuck his tongue a little deeper into Hudson's mouth, to see if he would respond in kind.

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