Archive of Our Own ^beta

Connor is positive that he hates this bet.

And by positive he means deeply, truly from the bottom of his heart. He should have never agreed to this stupid bet with Hudson. The whole idea itself was such a catastrophically bad plan.

But when Hudson had brought it up, it hadn't sounded like a bad idea at that time.

They'd been in the makeup trailer, getting ready to shoot another one of the many sex scenes the show needed. Connor had been half-listening to Hudson rambling off about something he saw on Twitter that morning, as he nodded along occasionally and half-watching the makeup artist drag the heavy foundation along the other's arm, effortlessly concealing his tattoos for it to go with Shane's personality, and not Hudson's. He was becoming the character Ilya wanted to kiss and touch, and not Connor.

So when Hudson caught his lost expression in the mirror he smirked and said something, Connor couldn't tell you exactlywhat, about his focus slipping.

Something like, "We haven't even started yet and you're already distracted." with a cocky grin and glittering eyes.

Connor's face flushed instantly.

"I'm not distracted. It's just very interesting to watch."

"Uh huh, right."

Hudson twisted in his seat, now looking at Connor instead of his reflection in the mirror. The artist sighed, before mumbling something about taking a break to let them catch up.

"I don't think you can do it today." Hudson smirked at him as soon as the artist stepped out of the trailer.

"Do what?" Connor had barely managed to get out.

"Keep it together." Hudson said it so easily, narrowing his eyes as he leaned back in the chair. "You're going to lose it the second we start rolling and you'd probably get hard."

Connor crossed his arms over his chest, trying to calm down the flush that crept up to his cheeks.

"That's not–"

"Bet?" Hudson said it casually with an extended hand thrust into Connor's space, like they were talking about who's gonna win the game tonight or how many takes they'd need till Jacob was satisfied with the scene.

Connor, like the big brained idiot he was, nodded wordlessly. He let out a shaky breath as he took Hudson's hand and shook on the bet. It was funny to think he had such trust in himself before it started.

"Something permanent for the two of us maybe. The winner decides." Hudson said, still holding his hand. Connor should have known better before he agreed to this bet. And hadn’t given it a second thought back then when he really should have.

And of course, it was unsurprising that he lost it this early on. They were already touching all the time, off camera too.Hudson had really made it his goal to get him to break, his hand lingering on the small of Connor's back or a random brush of shoulders as they walked side by side.

Those fleeting grazes alone did enough to throw him off-balance for the day. It really didn't help that they had to film a three page long script where Hudson had to deliberately run his hands all over him.

Sure actors are meant to be "profesh" with the obvious air quotes and everything in-between, but could you really blame Connor when his co-star looked like that? No one would put it against him if he was surprisingly or magically hard once while filming the numerous sex scenes they had together.

"Now since you lost–" Hudson nudged Connor out of his thoughts, as he sidled up next to him on the bench.

"We're getting matching tattoos." Connor's eyes widened at the other man.

"Wh– You mean now?"

"Are you scared Connie?" Hudson whispered in that stupid Russian accent he always put on when he had to prove a point. It was, yet again, stupidly incredible how he could make the switch, despite Connor being able to do the exact same thing. That was kinda his job to do, but Hudson? He was sure Hudson only did that to rile him up. It was incredibly unfair, how much effect his voice had on Connor. It made his mind sizzle, before visibly short-circuiting into flames.

One second it's Hudson's perfect Canadian accented english and the next its that thick, irrevocably bold and deep voice. It wasn't the half accented voice that Connor saw him do in front of other's but when he really drops his voice an octave or more.

Yes. God yes. He wanted to reply. Absolutely fucking terrified because you wanted to get tattoos– permanent characters on our skins which matched. For life.

He didn't want to think about it. His mind kept circling back to it, just as all things went with things related to Hudson. Connor really couldn't stop thinking about it. Especially not since Hudson had giggled and swatted his arm right after they called cut earlier that day, and said, "Oh we're definitely getting matching tattoos now." with a sly smirk tugging at his corner of his lips.

It was a little pathetic in all reality, that he was in this situation all because of a downward spiral that stemmed from losing a bet. And because he couldn't keep his body under control during a fake sex scene. It was a spectacular fuck up to be honest, losing a bet that wasn't supposed to be a real one anyways.

He drew in a deep breath– cold like the tailwind from a crack in the window. Cool like the metal he was sitting on. Slow breaths. Deep and slow–

"As if you already have an idea what to get." Connor replied with a huff to hide his reeling thoughts from the other. It was a safe bet, deliberately avoiding the question altogether that is. He'd always been great at deflection.

"Of course," Hudson started with a small smirk. "I know what we're getting." Connor could feel his stomach swoop, something like butterflies or a rollercoaster.

He was fucked, so fucked. Completely utterly fucked.

So there Connor was with his co-star at close to midnight, sitting in the waiting area of a sketchy tattoo studio on the outskirts of Hamilton. Hudson had promptly searched it up after they wrapped up shooting for the night. He's now sitting right next to Hudson who was casually checking upon his texts, completely unbothered about what's to come. He was sitting there with a sort of calm that Connor did not feel. The silence was amicable and comforting, and yet he felt the need to make conversation with Hudson.

He couldn't help but ask, "Where's yours gonna be?" He had his own placement planned out already, on his shin. He knew it would hurt like a bitch, right on the fucking bone. But he'd wanted it there, it felt perfect to get it there.

"Whenever it hurts less." Hudson deadpanned with a straight face looking right into Connor's eyes.

Connor couldn't help the giggles from bubbling up before he could stop them. Hudson threw his hands up in mock defeat, "What? I might have been the one to suggest it, but I'd still go for the less pain route."

Connor's smile softened understandingly.

"I'm gonna get it on my upper thigh, I haven't been gaining all this–" Hudson slapped his thighs in a overtly macho fashion, "–for nothing."

"Oh," was all Connor could get out though the tangled mess of thoughts in mind. Because he couldn't stop thinking about the placement of Hudson's tattoo. Upper thigh, he'd said. The small part of his brain Taylor Swift obsessed brain hadn't helped the situation, thinking about if Hudson would get 'mine' tattooed there.

Nope, that was absolutely the wrong thing to think about.

Connor to put a firm halt to the running thoughts in his mind before they got out of hand, by carding his fingers though his curls.

Get it together for fucks sake he yelled back in his mind as Connor tried to keep himself composed, before he could faintly hear the receptionist calling out Hudson's name.

He took one last breath to steady himself, before following Hudson deep into the still sketchy tattoo parlour. Connor couldn't remember to breathe until Hudson gently brushed his arm while leading him to the tables.

"So what are you boys getting today?" The tattoo artist asked, pulling on her gloves.

Hudson flashed her a bright smile as he slid a small piece of paper towards the tattoo artist. "We'll be getting this please, in the same font for both of us."

Connor could feel his heart hammer irregularly in his chest. He quickly leaned over before he could stop himself,desperate to try and catch a glimpse of the printed text. His eyes widened when he read the sheet.

"Hudson Williams, what the fuck?"

The other man turned to face him with a coy expression dancing his lips, "What?" He'd sounded all innocent. The tattoo artist was surely trying not to laugh at them.

"We're getting tattoos that says Sex Sells?" He half-shrieked in horror.

"It makes sense though, doesn't it?" Hudson smirked back at him.

~

Connor's eyes were fixated on Hudson, watching his expressions shift from clenching his jaw a bit too tight to him chewing on his lip as he braced for the needle to pierce his skin. Hudson hissed softly as the ink stemmed inside his skin, leaving a darker line on the stencil.

He couldn't help but think Hudson was used to tattoos by now, permanent ones. His eyes flicked over to the plethora of tattoos that littered his skin, the bomb on one arm, swooping snake across the other, momentarily getting distracted by the way the hem of his sleeve stretched over the muscle. God, he couldn't help but wish they got back to filming as soon as possible. Because Connor couldn't wait to hold Hudson and maybe, just maybe let himself feel–

"Like what you see Connie baby?" and fuck. Hudson had turned his head, and had caught him looking. No, blatantly staring. He grinned back with a smile dancing his lips. Connor scrambled to sit upright as he felt Hudson's gaze pierce though him.

"Just preparing myself." Connor murmured, tearing his gaze away from him. Hudson’s tattoo didn’t take long, and before Connor knew it he was sitting beside him with his freshly inked thigh wrapped in a layer of second skin.

"Your turn." he grinned, nodding towards the chair. Once he was all settled in the chair, Connor suddenly said, facing Hudson.

"Do you think, I can– can I add something?"

Hudson looked at him with obvious curiosity, "Add?"

His eyes flicked to the artist, who was looking at him expectantly. "I want a heart around mine– just an outline. On the shin."

Hudson was looking at him, all soft and fond, almost for a second too long, before breaking into a bright smile. "That's– wow, yeah."

"So," Hudson started as they walked out into the dimly lit street. "Matching tattoos huh?"

"Matching tattoos indeed."

"Do you like it?" Hudson's eyes were fixated on Connor's as he searched for an answer in them.

"Of course I do."

Because that would have been the one thing that would connect Connor Storrie to Hudson Williams for the rest of their lives.