Page 29 of Brad & Finn
So, he decided it was time to take over the kiss. He pulled Brad down even farther by his hair—gently, of course—and chased Brad’s tongue out of his mouth. He nipped at Brad’s bottom lip and then soothed his tongue over it, scratching his nails over Brad’s scalp at the same time.
“Finn,” Brad groaned into his mouth.
The sound of Brad’s honeyed voice saying his name, the name he’d chosen—the one that represented everything he was and everything he hoped to become as a man—nearly undid him. His hands went slack, and he wrapped his arms around Brad’s neck. Brad wrapped both arms around Finn’s lower back and turned his head, burying his face in Finn’s neck as their chests and hips came together in an aching hug.
Finn could feel a bulge pressing against his hip, and his own dick was throbbing. When was the last time kissing had gotten him going like this? He ground his hips against Brad experimentally and bit back a whine.
Brad groaned against his neck. “Sweetheart, if you keep doing that, you’re going to make me embarrass myself in a way I haven’t since…well, probably since high school.”
The soft, rumbling “sweetheart” caused goosebumps to break out across Finn’s arms. He’d often heard Brad and Kendall exchanging “hon” and “baby,” but he’d never heard such a tender endearment from the larger man.
“I guess it’s safe to say you’re not fazed by me being trans?” Finn asked.
Shock rushed in like an icy tide as Finn wondered where the hell that had come from and why that usual weight in his mouth hadn’t been able to stop it.
Brad pulled his head up, so they were eye to eye. “Were you worried about that?”
Finn bit his lip, surprised to find it was already swollen from kissing and beard burn. “Not exactly, but…it seemed like you wanted one thing, and then after we talked and you found out who I was…and then the sort of awkward kiss in the gym…” He sighed deeply. “I guess I wasn’t sure if maybe you didn’t want?—”
Brad sealed their mouths together and ground his hips against Finn, as if that was all the evidence he needed. And actually, it kind of was.
Finn moaned as Brad pressed on his lower back, forcing their bodies together in a slow roll that made Finn lightheaded. He had to break the kiss to suck in a desperate breath before Brad claimed his lips again. He pushed Finn back against the scuffed boards of the hallway wall, and it rucked up the back of his blazer. His arms were nearly above his head, and there was surprisingly little pull in the shoulders or arms of the jacket. He’d have to tell Chloe it had an impressive amount of give?—
Ugh, Chloe, who he assumed was still waiting for them at the bar.
Finn pulled back and brought his hands around to Brad’s chest and pressed. Brad immediately withdrew, throwing an arm up to brace against the wall.
“You okay?” he panted.
Finn fanned his fingers out, marveling that if he placed them thumb to pinky across Brad’s pecs, he couldn’t cover his entire chest.
“Finn?” Brad whispered, and Finn stopped staring at his chest and instead looked up at his face. His eyes and nose werescrunched in concern, but his cheeks were flushed an endearing pink around his beard.
Finn couldn’t help himself. He went up onto his toes and softly kissed the corner of his mouth before dropping back down to his feet. “Maybe this isn’t the best place for us to be doing this.”
Brad placed an achingly soft kiss on Finn’s forehead. That, even more so than the teenage level makeout session they’d just had, weakened Finn’s knees until he had to fist handfuls of Brad’s button down.
“Finn, sweetheart—” Brad said, an almost giddy laugh interrupting his words. He threaded his fingers through Finn’s, disentangling his hands from Brad’s now very wrinkled shirt. “I think it might be a bit obvious now.”
Finn tipped his head back to take in Brad’s hair. At Finn’s stare, Brad reached up and groaned when his hand came into contact with the unruly waves.
“Chloe knows,” Finn said, because apparently he had absolutely no filter whatsoever.
Brad cocked his head as he tried, and failed, to pat his hair down. Finn batted his hands away and smoothed his fingers through the unruly locks until it was back to some semblance of order.
“She knows…?”
“That we kissed. That I…wanted to kiss you again. And I’m assuming since you told her about the maple candy, she probably knows we’re…” Finn bit his lip, the familiar weight in his mouth finally making its incredibly inconvenient return.
Brad’s eyes pinched, and he pursed his lips. “You might have to help me out with this one, sweetheart. She probably knows we’re…what?”
Into each other? Hopefully going to go back to the hotel to suck on things that weren’t just maple candies? Playing out a real life friends-to-lovers second-chance romance story?
“That we’re going to go back to the hotel to…be lovers?” Finn said, his errant thoughts colliding in one of the most cataclysmic ways possible.
He tried to bury his face in his hands, but Brad pressed him back against the wall and grabbed his face. As if to further torment Finn, Brad’s index finger brushed over that sensitive part of his jaw. Finn could feel the synapses in his brain rewiring, overlaying the feeling of Brad’s large hand on top of the memory from twenty years ago.
“Look at me, sweetheart,” Brad whispered, but Finn’s eyes were glued to Brad’s wrinkled shirt.
