Page 28 of Brad & Finn
Finn shook his head. “Probably not, but we may need to strategize on alternative late-night food options if we need something tonight or tomorrow night.”
Brad gazed over the top of his glass at Finn, something almost dangerous sparkling in his eyes. “I always bring snacks when I go on scouting trips, and I didn’t bother unpacking my suitcase from a trip I took last weekend. I should be stocked on cookies, chips, and…” Brad leaned in and placed his mouth right next to Finn’s ear. “My last trip was to Vermont, so I’m almost positive I have some maple candies in there, too.”
There was no denying the clear-cut invitation Brad was making. Whether that meant their second kiss had just been an awkward flub, Finn didn’t know. Brad’s warm breath on his neck and his solid body in front of him should have put his mind at ease. This was what Finn had been wanting since they reunited the previous night. That should make him happy, or excited, or something.
He was utterly incapable of focusing on any of that, though.
“Maple?” he whispered, turning his face just enough so that he could meet Brad’s twinkling eyes.
“Maple,” Brad said, the glint in his eye unmistakably evil now.
Finnlovedmaple. Maple syrup, maple ice cream, maple candy, maple bread—he loved it all. It had been a bit of a running joke in their little friend group because the general store so infrequently stocked the Canadian gold that was real maple syrup. Most of the time, the store and the local diner only had “table syrup,” which was a disgusting and shameful excuse for a breakfast condiment.
“Are you serious?” Finn marveled. “You really have maple candy in your room?”
Brad’s smile turned into a perfect approximation of the shit-eating grin emoji Chloe liked to text him when she was doing something that was going to get them both in trouble.
“Brad,” Finn whimpered, “you better not be teasing.”
The part of Finn’s brain that really needed to turn back on right now noted the way Brad's eyes darkened, his pupils blowing wide and making his eyes look deep mahogany.
Unfortunately, the maple-crazed part of his brain was still in almost total control. He reached under the bar, so it would be out of view of the rest of the patrons, and grabbed Brad’s wrist. Except, he misjudged the angle and, instead, ended up grabbing his hand. They both readjusted, and as if they’d been doing this for years, their fingers slotted together.
Brad’s face melted into something soft and sweet, like the cotton candy they’d once shared at the state fair. His eyes were no longer hungry. Instead, they seemed to search Finn’s, looking for something Finn would have given him, if only he knew what it was.
“I promise, I’d never lie to you,” Brad said. “Especiallyabout maple candy.”
“Did you really just say maple candy?” a familiar and not entirely unwelcome voice asked.
Brad didn’t move an inch, so Finn stayed where he was, casting a furtive glance at Chloe. He wasn’t ready for the tender look she was giving them both, so he buried his face in his pint glass instead.
“I was telling Finn that I have some snacks back in the hotel if we end up needing them after this,” Brad said smoothly, gesturing with his glass around the room.
While that was exactly what he’d been doing, it somehow felt like a lie or, at the very least, a deep omission. Their bodies and eyes had been talking, too, and they’d been saying a lot more than that. At least…Finn’s had.
He scanned up and down Brad’s torso, noting the way his entire body was facing Finn, with just his shoulder open a few degrees to welcome Chloe into the fold. His fingers were still firmly wrapped around Finn’s, and they stayed that way even as Chloe asked about his recent trip, and he answered with broad sweeps of his other hand.
Finn lost track of time, his mind split between thoughts of what the end of the night could bring, the tender connection of their joined hands, and the utter antics of his best friend and his…well, of Brad.
He managed to finish his second cider and, at Chloe’s assertion, ordered himself another cup of water. Eventually, both Chloe and Brad switched to water as well, and he noticed a palpable change in the room. The crowd had thinned out, and those who were still present looked like they’d either been coupled up before coming to the reunion or were potentially coupling up because of it.
Different folks had stopped to talk to Chloe and Brad, and Finn had participated as best he could, but as another unfamiliar face approached Chloe, Finn’s bladder had finally had enough.
“I’m going to use the restroom,” he announced to no one in particular and pulled his hand and then himself away from the bar.
The bathroom was just as small as he remembered, and the mirror above the sink was cracked, distorting Finn’s image more than usual. It had taken a long time for the person he saw in the mirror to match even a passing resemblance to how he saw himself in his head. Tonight, whether it was the alcohol, the splintered glass, or the lingering feeling of Brad’s hand in his, he found he didn’t much mind what he saw.
When he stepped out of the bathroom, a hand he was beginning to recognize the shape of grabbed him by the wrist and guided him behind a stack of boxes and a coat rack.
“Brad—” Finn tried to ask.
But his words died as Brad cupped his cheek and bent his head down. He paused a hair's breadth away from Finn’s lips, once again asking him to take the final step. Finn had come this far, and he wasn’t backing down now. He tilted his head up, and their mouths met for the third time.
This kiss was light-years different from their first two. Brad parted his lips as he slid his hand around to the back of Finn’s neck. His other hand found Finn’s hip, and he fit his thumb into the hollow there, as if it was made for him.
When Finn gasped, because it was all justsomuch, Brad traced his tongue over Finn’s bottom lip before sliding it into his mouth. Instead of pausing to debate the merits of making out in the back of a bar at the reunion he wasn’t even supposed to be at, Finn slid his hands into Brad’s expertly styled hair. A few of the guys he’d kissed before had product in their hair, and it was usually a massive turn-off for Finn. He would stop mid-kiss, wipe his hands on his pants, and return to much more lackluster kissing after that.
Tonight, he couldn’t find the will to care. He traced his fingers gently through Brad’s hair, and he groaned into the kiss, sliding his tongue along Finn’s, causing him to make his own plaintive noise. His was much closer to a moan, or possibly a whimper, and he didn’t want to be making such noises with his best friend only a handful of yards away.
