Page 12 of Brad & Finn
“Just…nervous?” Finn offered.
Brad barked out a laugh. “Scared shitless, more like. My mom must have been able to tell, or maybe she’d done enough research after Jamie came out, ‘cause she handled it like a champ. Said exactly the right things and made it feel like any other of our weekly phone calls.”
“That’s amazing,” Finn said, hesitating for only a second before deciding one admission probably warranted another. “My dad wasn’t good or bad at handling my news. He sort of just nodded along, asked what I wanted to be called moving forward, and we never spoke of it again.”
Brad grimaced. “Shit, Finn…I’m sorry. Am I safe in assuming you haven’t been back to visit much?”
Finn shook his head and fidgeted with the cup in his hands, tapping his fingers one at a time against the glass. He found the noise more grating than relieving, so he let his hands fall limp, the cup tipping precariously towards the floor.
Without saying a word, Brad gently took the glass from him and leaned over to place it on the nightstand as well. Finn didn’t try to peek at his abs this time. Talking about his dad had a way of taking the wind right out of him.
“He moved out to the mountains several years back, but…no. I didn’t come home at all during college, and I was in various stages of transitioning throughout most of my early twenties. By the time I was—” Finn gestured up and down his body. “—looking more like this, there wasn’t much left to come back for.”
He, Chloe, and Kendall stayed close after high school, and both of his friends had been beyond supportive of him throughout his bumpy, disjointed social transition in college. When they graduated, they’d all ended up in Indianapolis for a few years. Kendall had been the one to help him practice giving empty injections to an orange until he was ready to give himself T shots. Several years later, Chloe and Kendall had temporarilymoved into his tiny studio apartment to help him recover from top surgery. Chloe had promised to take off work and do it again if he ever opted for bottom surgery. Kendall probably wouldn’t be able to join, having moved to Minnesota with her husband, but he trusted she’d send enough care packages to take care of him for months.
“You know,” Finn said, running his teeth over his bottom lip, “I think if he’d been anywhere near as supportive as your mom, maybe I would’ve tried harder.”
Brad laughed, a soft, almost sad sound. “That’s fair, but also not your job. It’s the parents’ job to be there for their kids, not the other way around.” He leaned back on his hand, and his smile slid into something almost wistful. “I’m not sure if you remember, but my dad ran out on us when I was a kid. My mom could have gone to pieces over it, but instead, she put herself together again and spent my entire childhood doing the work of two parents.”
Finn nodded and rested his cheek on his shoulder so he could look over at Brad. “I remember. My dad…well, he did the job of about half a parent, but…I don’t know. I learned to be pretty independent at a young age, and it’s served me well over the years.”
Finn’s therapist would call him out on such a reductionist statement, but he didn’t like to dwell on bad things with his friends. Not that he and Brad were friends. But they were for sure something more than strangers.
Brad laughed, and for a second, Finn was afraid Brad was going to call him on his bullshit, but Brad just shook his head fondly. “Then there’s me, calling my mom once a week, every week, like clockwork for my entire adult life. I’ve even called her a few times for advice on how to handle kids coming out tome.” At Finn’s questioning look, Brad hurried to explain. “I’m acollege football recruiter. Or, I have been for the past eight years. I just got a promotion to defensive line coach, and–”
“Brad!” Finn exclaimed, leaning forward to push against Brad’s shoulder. Brad allowed himself to be moved, which, given the bulk of his bicep, Finn assumed wouldn’t have been easy for Finn to do unassisted. “Way to bury the lede! Congratulations!”
Brad ducked his chin, but not before Finn caught an adorably pleased smile on his face. “Thanks. It’s…yeah, it’s a pretty big deal. I’ve been working towards it for years, and it’s a big pay raise, as well as—hopefully—a rather drastic increase in quality of life. I’ve been traveling almost nonstop for a decade, and I’m beyond ready to slow down.”
“Seriously, Brad, that’s amazing.”
A memory of the two of them sitting on playground swings and talking about their futures flashed across Finn’s mind. It had been after an away game, and something had gone wrong with their bus. Most of the football players had wandered off to stretch or make out with their respective cheerleader girlfriends. Brad must have been on an off period with Kendall because, for some reason, he’d ended up sitting next to Finn for almost two hours, musing and fantasizing about their futures. Even back then, Brad had wanted to stay involved with football. He’d already been recruited for a D2 school, which meant he was pretty sure he wasn’t going pro. He’d mentioned coaching or maybe something in sports medicine.
“Uhm…anyways,” Brad said now, a blush turning the apples of his cheeks cherry red. “Sometimes the high school kids I’m recruiting will blurt out the most personal shit during interviews. I’m really glad something I’m doing must be making it clear I’m a safe space—or, at least, that our campus is, but it took me a couple of times before I was able to keep my foot out of my mouth.”
“Ah, that explains a lot,” Finn said.
“It does?”
Finn held up his hands in air quotes. “‘You sure do look different.’”
Brad covered his face. “Yeah, okay, not my finest moment.”
Before Finn could stop himself, he pulled on one of Brad’s heavily muscled arms. Again, Brad humored him, providing the most minimal resistance and allowing Finn to lower his arm back down to his side. The pads of Finn’s fingers lingered for a few extra seconds on the crease in his bicep before he pulled them back into his lap.
“I’m just teasing,” Finn said. “It’s better than a lot of other responses you could have given.”
A frown pulled at the corner of Brad’s lips, highlighting lines that hadn’t been there that night in Cory’s basement. Brad’s skin had been smooth, with just the barest hint of stubble, underneath Finn’s palms when he cupped his cheek.
“I don’t want to pry,” Brad said cautiously, “but have you received a lot of bad responses in the past?”
Finn dipped his chin and stared down at the wrinkles forming in his chinos. One of his worst experiences had been with a guy with a similar build to Brad’s. He didn’t want to say that, though, and make Brad uncomfortable—or worse, feel bad for him.
“It’s been a while, thankfully, but…yeah, I’ve had my fair share of guys receiving the news with gay—or trans, I guess—panic, and I’ve gotten some nasty comments from colleagues and friends of friends. It’s all gotten a lot easier since I started being able to pass, though, and it’s been a few years since I had to come out to anyone.”
“I guess that’s good, but it’s also really shitty you had to go through that to begin with,” Brad said.
A line formed between Brad’s eyebrows, and Finn had the sudden urge to rub it away for him. Brad hadn’t seemed to mindthe jovial shoving and pulling Finn had done, but Finn didn’t want to risk any sort of intimate touching right now.
