Page 8 of Brad & Finn
Brad hustled to catch up with him, and they easily fell into another brainstorming session on Finn and Chloe’s cover story. They decided that their first date had been at a coffee shop, and their second was a trip to see a show in Chicago. It turned out Finn and Chloe lived in a queer-friendly, artsy area of Indianapolis. Admittedly, Brad hadn’t known that existed since all he knew about Indiana was the current rankings of the Notre Dame and DePauw football programs. Finn claimed it had alively gay scene, including bars and queer owned shops and cafes.
As they walked, their shoulders bumped, and their arms grazed each other. Brad’s attention was once again split between listening to Finn’s gentle voice and wondering why the skin on his arm felt like it was buzzing. While the air was less stagnant out here than it had been in the bar, it was still relatively warm, and it caused a light sheen of sweat to gather under his arms. He wanted to blame the weather and remnants of whiskey on the burning sensation stirring in his belly, but when Finn’s hand accidentally grazed the back of Brad’s, he knew there was only one reasonable explanation. Finn was under his skin, like an itch he shouldn’t scratch…but desperately wanted to.
Sooner than he would have liked, they arrived at the hotel. There were only two floors, so he wasn’t surprised when they both made their way towards the elevator. Unfortunately, as the elevator doors shut, Finn finished his thought on how much he hated movie dates, and they fell into a charged silence.
He didn’t think he was imagining the tension rolling off Finn, but he couldn’t tell if it was anticipatory or anxious. The old gears and chords creaked as the elevator slowly rose, and a trickle of sweat ran down the center of Brad’s back. Another one of those tropes his mom loved to read was insta-love. He didn’t believe in it or love at first sight or any of that shit. He did think that some people could have an instant connection, though. He’d felt it a few times over the years. He didn’t always pursue it, but when he did, the conversations were easy, and the sex was explosive. That wouldn’t be a bad way to kick off the weekend, right?
As the elevator continued to chug upwards, Finn subtly glanced at his watch, and Brad devised a plan.
The elevator would let them off in the middle of the hallway. If they both headed the same way, he would take that as a sign. Ifthey turned in opposite directions, he would bid Finn goodnight and wish him good luck with Chloe’s mom and the reunion. The opportunity might present itself again later, but he wasn’t going to keep Finn stalled in front of the elevators.
This plan lasted all of ten seconds before the elevator ground to a lurching halt at their floor. Finn’s hand shot out and gripped Brad’s upper arm for balance, and Brad’s hand found its way to Finn’s lower back. It was nearly impossible to ignore the fact that his hand fit effortlessly in the curve of Finn’s spine. He wondered if Finn had those little back dimples, and if Brad’s thumbs would fit perfectly in them as well.
The doors opened with a labored creak, and neither of them removed their hands as they stepped out onto the well-worn carpet.
“My room is this way,” Finn said, tilting his body to the left enough to gesture but not dislodge Brad’s hand.
Brad could feel the individual nobs of Finn’s spine under his fingers. He could picture himself running his fingers slowly over each protrusion or perhaps learning their shape with his tongue.
“So am I,” Brad said, guiding Finn forward with a soft press of his hand.
“You know,” Finn said, the sounds of their soft footfalls echoing alongside his words in the narrow hall. “I’m really glad you were the person I ran into at the bar tonight.”
Brad was the last door on the right, and as they got closer, Finn made no move to stop. For a second, he wondered if Finn was walking with Brad to his room, but at the last moment Finn turned to face the door opposite Brad’s.
“Guess we’re neighbors,” Brad said, his grin bleeding into his voice.
Finn made a noncommittal noise and ducked his chin, fumbling in his back pocket, presumably for his room key. Brad made no move to grab his own key. Instead, he stepped aroundFinn. He made sure not to block the door in any way; he just leaned one forearm against the door jam and looked down at Finn.
Finn glanced up, his fingers freezing halfway through pulling his key out of his wallet.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Brad said, wondering if he was possibly making a huge mistake. If this was all a misunderstanding, and Finn wasn’t even slightly interested in Brad, they’d still have to see each other at the reunion, and they might run into each other in the hallway. It would be awkward, and might even impact who Brad was able to socialize with at the reunion…but there was just something about Finn that made him want to take the risk.
Finn raised an eyebrow at him. “Really?”
“Really,” Brad said. “And I wouldn’t mind if the night didn’t end just yet.”
Finn’s eyes strayed down to Brad’s mouth, and he could feel it almost like a caress. Brad licked his lips, chasing the sensation, and his stomach tightened as Finn bit his bottom lip. Moving slowly, Brad placed his hand on Finn’s hip and pulled him in. He bent his head, making sure to move slowly enough that Finn could say no or easily stop him.
Finn placed a gentle hand on Brad’s chest, so Brad took the leap. He closed his eyes and bent his head, only for Finn to push him back. It wasn’t hard enough to dislodge Brad’s hold on his hip, but it was enough to push him into the door frame.
Brad opened his eyes, and at the panicked look on Finn’s face, he held both hands up between them.
“I-I—” Finn stammered, his fingers tangling in Brad’s hoodie. He didn’t pull Brad close or shove him away. Instead, he clung to the fabric like Brad used to cling to his security blanket when he was a kid.
Brad kept his hands up, waiting to see if Finn would finish his sentence. He seemed to be a million miles away, though, his eyes burning a hole in the center of Brad’s chest, right next to where his fist was still clenched.
“I’m sorry,” Brad offered. “I think I may have misread the evening.”
Finn didn’t so much as blink; he just continued staring. At a loss for what else to do, but keenly aware that Finn still wasn’t pushing him away, Brad kept talking.
“We don’t have to do anything physical if you don’t want to. I was serious when I said I had a good time, though. If you want to keep hanging out, I’d love to do that. Or if you want to call it a night, we could hang out this weekend at the reunion?”
Finn's fingers twitched, crinkling the screen-printed logo. “It’s…not that I don’t want to,” he said, so slowly it was like he was inventing each word before speaking it.
Brad barely dared to breathe as he nodded his head like he understood what that meant.
“I…I want to, but…”
