Page 69 of His Boyfriend's Rookie

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” Joq replied and cringed inwardly.

But Finn laughed. “It’s in the past, eh,” he brought his hand up, wiggled his fingers so his wedding band was on display. “You staying here?”

“Yep, Chris, my boyfriend, is checking us in,” he said and felt that old surreal feeling come back. Finn had that effect on him.

Finn nodded affably though, still smiling, glanced towards the lobby. “George is checking us out. Probably for the best,” he looked back at Joq and quirked his lips.

Joq was relieved. He tried to return the smile.

“Well, I better,” Finn waved a hand. “Nice seeing you.”

And then Joq felt angry; Finn was so chill, it was like he’d forgotten about the part he played in the whole mess.

“I can’t say the same,” he said and watched the smile slip from Finn’s face. “Yeah, what I did was shitty and I’m sorry, I really am. But you stole my boyfriend and no one seems to care about that part.”

Finn laughed, high and light, his smile back in full force. He met Joq’s gaze head on, that same defiance Joq remembered well glinting in his eyes. “Oh, Joq. You still believe that?”

“I know that.”

“How could I steal something that was already mine?”

Joq frowned at the illogic of that statement.

“Twelve years, me and George—

“He was never yours,” Finn cut him off. “He was always mine, you were just keeping him company until I arrived.”

Joq started to shake his head. Finn smiled at him, there was nothing mean in it, just a genuine, radiant smile.

“Well, keep telling yourself that if it makes you feel better,” Joq said and went to walk to the bar.

“I don’t have to,” Finn said. Joq turned to look at him. He was smiling, confident and beautiful. “He does.”

Joq felt that like a slap. Even after everything, he was surprised it could hurt.

“Later, Joq,” Finn said and headed into the lobby.

Joq watched as he slipped up beside George at the counter, George’s arm going around him like it was natural, turning to press a kiss to Finn’s lips like he did it all the time, there in a public lobby with tourists and phone cameras and the possibility for the world to see.

“You haven’t had a drink yet?” Chris asked as he walked up.

Joq startled, tore his eyes away.

“Not yet,” Joq smiled.

“Wanna go to the bungalow then? I’ve ordered champagne.”

And yeah, Joq really did. He spared another glance at George and Finn, expected them to be looking his way, for Finn to have said something. They weren’t. George was looking at Finn, his hand running up and down his back, while Finn laughed and gave him a playful shove, the two of them firmly entrenched in their own world, the same way they’d been since the first time Joq saw them on TV, in the tunnel, on the surveillance tape; eyes always and only for each other.

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