Page 47 of Brad & Finn (Gomillion High Reunion #3)

A flash fire of emotions ripped through Finn’s chest: affection and appreciation for this amazing man who wanted to be with him, yearning to try anything and everything with him in bed—and out—as well as a vulnerable tenderness Finn wasn’t sure what to do with.

He decided being a little shit was the only way to quell the tide, so he scissored his fingers, creating a sort of runway, and pressed the dildo in alongside them.

Brad screamed, and Finn grabbed onto the sound and locked it tight in his memory. He would for sure be replaying that on lonely nights in his Indianapolis condo.

As he slowly thrust the dildo in and out, he drank in every sound and twitch, tried to catalogue the looks of awe and pleasure crossing Brad’s handsome face, and forced his brain to memorize the shape Brad’s spine made when he was in ecstasy.

Far too soon, Finn found himself suddenly on his back, Brad looming over him. He could just barely see the flared bulb of the dildo hanging down between Brad’s legs.

“You…are…absurd,” Brad panted.

Finn smirked up at him. “Takes one to know one.”

In an impressively coordinated maneuver, especially given how hard Brad was still shaking, he slid his arms under Finn, angled his hips just right, and slid into Finn with one hard stroke.

They both cried out, and Finn made a desperate, needy noise when Brad tilted his hips and rubbed his pelvic bone against Finn’s dick.

“Oh, god?—”

“Yes,” Brad growled. He snapped his hips, causing a shiver to run down Finn’s spine. “Oh, fuck, yes.”

Finn’s mind tried desperately to hang onto something, like the way Brad’s beard raked along Finn’s neck or how the wings of Brad’s shoulder blades were the exact size of Finn’s hands.

He held onto them like handles as Brad shoved his body slowly up the bed.

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to hold onto any of these thoughts for long.

For several minutes, he lost himself entirely in the drag and grind of their bodies.

It was far too sappy to say they were made for each other, but Brad’s dick did feel pretty perfect.

It stretched him and reached deep inside him, rubbing and pressing against all the right places.

Brad’s body, heavy and sweaty above him, also felt perfect.

His weight kept Finn from completely floating away with his thoughts, and his firm grip on Finn’s shoulders made him feel taken care of.

A flash of the purple dildo caught Finn’s attention, and he wrapped his legs around Brad’s back, using his heel to press the dildo deeper into Brad’s hole.

Brad moaned, one long, disjointed but continuous sound, and he began pistoning in and out of Finn.

It was glorious and rough and sweaty and quite loud, and Finn got lost again.

He heard Brad’s cry of pleasure as he came and just barely registered his own climax.

Mostly, he was adrift in the musky scent of their love and the warm, strong arms of his lover.

They took their time washing each other off in the shower, and Finn launched into a much more detailed explanation of every one of his toys, including several he’d forgotten about until he began going through his mental catalogue.

Brad humored him for the entire shower, and at least fifteen minutes in bed, until he finally grabbed Finn and maneuvered them into a sideways sixty-nine shape so he could effectively shut him up with his dick.

Still intrigued by his earlier idea, Finn tried to maneuver Brad’s dick and balls out of the way so he could lick his ass, but the angle was all wrong, and once Brad sucked Finn’s dick into his mouth, he gave up.

Their second orgasms wiped them out, and they managed to scoot and shift until Finn was curled up on Brad’s chest. He glanced at the clock and saw they had at least four hours.

He poked at Brad’s side until he used his generous wingspan to grab Finn’s cell phone.

He shot Chloe a quick text saying they would meet her on the path leading up to the football field, then he set an alarm and flopped down on Brad’s chest.

Brad was quiet, but not the sleeping kind of quiet.

He idly drew patterns into Finn’s back until Finn fell into a light doze, occasionally disturbed by Brad shifting around underneath him.

He thought he caught whispered words like “gorgeous,” “unbelievable,” and maybe even “lucky.” Finally, Brad fell still, and Finn dropped off to sleep.

He woke up to the incredibly rude sound of his phone alarm going off.

Disoriented and uncertain about where he was, he tried to reach out and grab it, but his hand landed on a hairy arm instead.

To say he gracefully handled this revelation would be a colossal lie.

He jerked upright in surprise and managed to topple off Brad—and off the bed.

Thankfully, all the blankets, sheets, and pillows they’d discarded broke his fall, and he ended up with his feet resting on the bed and his back on the floor.

Brad poked his head over the edge, and a slow, very feline-like smile spread across his face. Finn was completely naked, his legs splayed wide open.

“No,” Finn said firmly, like he was talking to Teddy, his dog.

Brad’s lips spread, and he gave a toothy grin that was much more reminiscent of Chloe and Christian’s bratty dog, Shadow.

“Brad, no?—”

“Hi, gorgeous,” Brad all but purred. He ignored Finn and rolled towards the edge of the bed, like he was going to climb down onto the ground with him.

Finn scrambled into a somewhat more dignified sitting position and threw his hand out between them. “We have to go!”

Brad cocked his head like Teddy did when he was curious—okay, Finn had to stop likening his lover to pets.

Finn shook his head to try to get some semblance of sense back. He was, quite honestly, a bit of an asshole in the morning, but naps didn’t usually mess him up too badly. Maybe waking up with Brad was what had him all discombobulated.

Brad held out his hand, and after inspecting it to make sure he wouldn’t try any funny business—even though Finn was tempted to drag him down onto the floor and get up to a lot of funny business—he accepted the hand up, and they once again marched into the shower together.

“What are we doing tonight?” Brad asked good-naturedly as he squatted down in front of his suitcase, clad in a navy-blue pair of boxer briefs.

Finn was gathering up his clothes to once again make a quick dash-of-shame across the hall.

“Wear something nice that you’re also fine with wearing outdoors,” he said as he popped the packer out of his underwear and slid on the lace.

It chafed against the beard burn Brad had left on his thighs, and he was tempted to wear it that evening for that reason alone, but it was definitely not clean anymore.

“Hm, could you change and then come back, and I’ll get dressed based on what you’re wearing?” Brad suggested.

Finn popped his head out of his hoodie—which was actually one of Christian’s he liked to steal—and shoved one foot into its correct shoe. “We’re running a bit late. I’m sure whatever you choose will be fine, my love.”

He paused with one foot only halfway into his other shoe. He glanced at Brad and found him also frozen with his hand grasping a band t-shirt.

“Uhm…probably not that, though,” Finn said, slipping his foot in and walking over to Brad’s side. He did a quick inventory of the suitcase and selected a pair of only slightly wrinkled to hell slacks and a blue button down.

Brad stared up at him, his eyes wide and earnest. “I like that.”

He could have pretended Brad was talking about the shirt or pants, or even the act of Finn picking them out for him, instead of the rather intense new endearment he’d just used, but…he didn’t want to.

“Yeah?” Finn asked.

“Yeah.”

Finn nodded, and since he didn’t know what else to do, he nodded again and then turned for the door.

“I’ll see you in fifteen minutes, love,” he called as he opened the door and slipped across the hall.

Chloe was somehow even more excited the second time around, if her seventeen missed texts were anything to go by. Finn tried to subtly swipe away the notifications and type out a quick “we’re on our way” message as Brad started the rental car and drove them towards the school.

A sudden bout of nerves effectively glued his tongue to the bottom of his mouth, and he grunted and hummed at whatever Brad was saying about his mom and the football field.

Brad shot him a curious look, but all Finn could manage was a small, anxious smile.

Brad turned the radio on, and after only a brief scan of local stations, found a country song to sing along to.

His out of tune—and shockingly off-beat—singing loosened Finn’s jaw, and he hummed along as they pulled into the parking lot.

Chloe was waiting for them at the entrance to the path, just like she’d promised, and she was doing a pretty poor job of hiding something behind her back.

When they approached her, Brad managed to restrain himself for all of about five seconds before he threw his arms around Chloe. She sighed dramatically but leaned her head against his chest, as her hands were otherwise occupied.

“One chance, Braderoonie,” Chloe said firmly.

Brad gaped at her, and Finn choked back a laugh.

“What?” she asked innocently. “Finn has started calling you Bradley, which is fine and cute, and truthfully, I’m honored my joke has lasted this many years, but that means I need a new nickname for you.”

Brad’s face took on an interesting shape, with big eyes, pouting lips, and a trembling jaw.

Chloe rolled her eyes and pulled the flowers and a new sign out from behind her back. This one read, “Prom?” with a bunch of smiley faces hastily drawn around the edges. She shoved them in Brad’s hands and took two steps back.

Brad looked at Chloe and then at Finn in confusion. Just like Brad had at the coffee shop earlier, Finn blurted out, “I love you.”