I liked Finn. A lot, actually. But it wasn’t as easy as Lena made it sound. There were issues with him not being out to anyone, including himself, as well as the whole he-was-Miles’s-best-friend thing. But there was more. Neither Finn nor I knew if he could like guys more than just sexually. That wasn’t something I was willing to plumb, especially when he didn’t know he needed a plumber.
“Okay, the stag night is a Thursday, which means there’s no cover at Johnny Pete’s. It’s college night, so it’ll be busy, but not packed like on the weekends. You and I will get the rideshares from my parents’ place. Then back there for the guys staying. The ones who aren’t can get their own to their place or hotels after.”
“What about their cars at your parents’ house?”
“They’re big boys. They can figure out being dropped off or picking it up the next day.”
“Okay, yeah, true, makes sense.” He took a deep breath, dropping his shoulders. “Are you staying at your folks’ place?”
“Nope. No room. They’ll have two aunts and uncles each, seven cousins, and the groom. The four guy cousins are coming out with us that night.”
“I wasn’t sure if I needed to stay there that night, or just after the rehearsal.”
“Plan on after the rehearsal, but check with my mom if there’s room. You may have to sleep in the tub.” I laughed, and so did he.
“I’ve slept in worse places.”
“I’m sure you have.” I chuckled again. “And that’s about it.”
“Great,” he said, plunging the room into silence.
That conversation didn’t need to happen in person. I knew that, and so did he. We’d been texting nonstop since we got home, and I had already given him all of that information, if not all at once.
The rest of our texts read more like the banter of long-time male friends. There was just this obliviousness to him that I found both endearing and frustrating. Nothing sexual had come up. In fact, after we blew each other again that last night, we cuddled, watched stupid videos from his feed, then went to wake Miles and go to dinner with the guys. I’d have to say that the last night was indeed the best night. Hands fucking down.
We stayed out late, but no one got drunk. I didn’t drink at all. Finn and I planned on sucking each other off again, but he had passed out in his bed when I went to take a piss. So I crawled into mine, and when we woke up to catch our flight, it was like we hadn't spent the previous day ingesting each other’s semen.
“So,” I said after several whole minutes of silence.
He smiled at me, but it wasn’t easy.
“You ever hear that joke, ‘This could’ve been an email’?” My voice was a loudspeaker in the quiet.
“Yeah.” He laughed, but maybe choked a little, too.
“This whole thing could’ve been a single text message. Not even a long one.”
“Yeah.” His laugh was so fake and painful it was adorable. “Guess it could’ve been.”
“So…”
Another laugh that I was sure took years off his life. “So… what?”
“So, why did you want to come over?”
It was an asshole move. I knew that. But seeing Finn’s cheeks bloom red and scramble to make a coherent thought was just too adorable to miss.
He said, “I, uh… we just wanted to, like, go over the stuff, and we said we should hang out, and you said you were off and didn’t have plans, and I didn’t have plans so—”
I, in my unending mercy, put him out of his misery. I leaned in, slipped my fingers under the backward bill of his hat, and pressed my lips to his. For such a big guy, in such good shape, feeling every single muscle in his body relax as our lips met was divine.
It took a second, but only one, for him to kiss me back. Once he did, we made out slow and easy. A reacquainting and remembering of the other. A way to reintroduce something sexual into our relationship, removing it from the near-sacred space of our shared Miami hotel room, and back into our real world. My actual apartment, which he’d been to with family and friends. When he leaned back, his eyes were still closed, but his smile was so pure it could cure me of any ailment.
“I was getting scared you weren’t gonna do that,” he said after opening his eyes.
“Never feel scared when you’re with me, Finn. No matter what.” I took his hat off so I could card my fingers through his hair before kissing him again.
He must have just showered before heading to my place. The dense, soft, short hair on the back of his head was damp and smelled like a man-branded shampoo. His breath tasted like a mixture of toothpaste and mouthwash. Since his shirt didn’t have sleeves, his Old Spice deodorant hit me when he raised his arm to hold my head like I held his.
