Page 16

Chapter 16

This was Jacob’s first year having a real holiday break—not having it shoved in, in-between practices and games, and he fully intended to enjoy it.

He spent a whole day shopping for gifts, taking his time and not just throwing anything he thought anyone he knew might possibly like into his cart, but really considering what might be the best gift.

On Christmas Eve, he took Jackie and Krista to the Portland Zoo to see the holiday light displays, and plied them with hot fried elephant ears, dripping with butter and cinnamon sugar, and big cups of hot chocolate, ignoring Bryan’s protests when he dropped them back at home, hyped and maybe even a little wild.

“Just wait,” his brother warned ominously as he waved Jacob into the house.

“’Til what?”

“’Til you have kids of your own and every time you see a food item containing sugar you break into hives,” Bryan said.

“I . . .uh . . .” Bryan knew he didn’t want kids.

“Okay, fair,” Bryan said. “Wait until you end up shuttling around a dozen or so drunk hockey rookies because you’re loved up with one of them.”

“I’m not . . .we haven’t . . .I don’t . . .” Jacob hedged. They hadn’t talked about it. It wasn’t only sex, that was for sure, but they also hadn’t used the L word yet.

Bryan raised an eyebrow as Jackie tackled Krista into the couch, yelling.

“But we are . . . uh . . .together. You know.” Jacob felt awkward admitting it, even though if he was doing it, he could surely say it out loud.

“Please tell me you’re more articulate with Finn,” Bryan said.

Finn didn’t seem to have many complaints. He asked for what he wanted and Jacob was more than happy to give it to him as often as they could—which, frankly, between Finn’s school and hockey commitments and Morgan being the world’s most accomplished cockblocker, was not nearly enough.

“Trust me, he’s not complaining. Except about how often his dad accidentally uh . . .” Jacob hesitated, glancing over at where Krista and Jackie were tussling on the couch, but also, possibly listening in.

“Interrupts you?” Bryan laughed. “Hey, at least you aren’t pining away alone anymore. That was pathetic.”

“Thanks,” Jacob said dryly.

Bryan only shrugged. “Just telling it like it is. Did you talk to Finn about tomorrow?”

“Yes. He’s spending most of it with his Dad and then uh . . .well, tomorrow night when he finally manages to escape Morgan’s clutches, I’m planning a little celebration at my house, just the two of us.”

“Let me guess, you hung some mistletoe over your bed.” Bryan laughed. “Subtle, you are not, but hey, that’s not a bad thing.”

“I did tell him you invited him over and he was really touched. If Morgan wasn’t in town . . .”

“I get it,” Bryan said briskly. “I can’t imagine dealing with that guy full-time.”

“He’s getting better at it. Or Morgan’s trying harder? Or trying less? I’m not sure. But I think it’s not entirely a bad thing he’s around. As for me and him, well we’re never going to be best friends, but we haven’t punched each other in the face yet.”

“And what happens when he finds out what you and Finn are really doing?”

It was a question Jacob had been asking himself for at least a week.

“No idea,” Jacob said. “But there’s no reason to tell him right now.”

Bryan shot him a look that said, if you’re sure . Or maybe, he’s going to find out, and be super pissed. Possibly both.

Probably it was both.

“It’s too bad he couldn’t come with you guys to the zoo,” Bryan said.

“Yeah, he had this party with the guys from his team who’re still in town,” Jacob said. “I’m trying to not get in the way of him enjoying this whole experience.”

Bryan rolled his eyes. “You’re not going to.”

“I’ve been through this—well, not this , not college,” Jacob said, shifting uncomfortably. He’d come up through the juniors, instead. But the point remained. He’d already been through this. He’d played his years, and now he was done, and Finn had all his years ahead of him still.

“If you are currently overthinking everything, deciding for him that he couldn’t possibly want you, not when you’re at two different stages of life, stop it,” Bryan said, smacking him. “I’m sure he’d tell you to stop it, too, but he’s not here, and I doubt you’d actually get out of your ass long enough to tell him what you’re worried about.”

Jacob winced.

“I mean it,” Bryan said. “Stop it right now.”

Jacob did try to stop it, but after he left Bryan’s house, he didn’t stop thinking about it.

Was still thinking about it when later that night, just after eleven, he was sitting in bed, watching ESPN, when his phone rang.

It was Finn, giggling into the receiver.

“You good?” Jacob said immediately. “You’re safe?” He did not want to drag his ass out of his comfortable, warm bed, but he would, if Finn needed help.

“I’m fine,” Finn said, and yeah, he’d definitely been drinking. “Totally fine. So fine.”

Yeah, you are.

Bryan popped into Jacob’s head in to lecture him about keeping all these things to himself.

Jacob cleared his throat. “Yeah, you are.”

Finn hummed under his breath, sounding pleased that he’d said it out loud. “I’m back at my room, by the way,” he said. “Alone.”

He didn’t love how adept they’d gotten at phone sex recently, but he knew enough now to know what Finn wanted.

What he wanted.

“Yeah? All alone?”

“So alone,” Finn confirmed. “I nearly took a cab to your place.”

“You have to be at Morgan’s tomorrow morning for brunch.”

“I’m totally capable of doing the walk of shame to my dad’s house.” Finn paused, like he was still aware, despite the booze, what a bad idea that would’ve been. After all, he hadn’t done it. “But you’re right. Annoyingly.”

“Bet I could be right again,” Jacob murmured, grabbing the remote and muting ESPN before switching speakerphone on.

“I hope so,” Finn said.

“I think if I kissed you right now, you’d melt right into me.” Jacob hadn’t ever thought he was any good at this, but either he’d gotten better because he had to—thanks, Morgan—or it was surprisingly easy with Finn.

“Yeah,” Finn said breathily. “What else?”

“I bet if I slid my fingers down your chest and then lower, your cock would be hard.”

“ Yes .” Finn groaned, and Jacob didn’t need Finn to tell him that he was doing what Jacob wished he was doing.

Arousal surged through him, and for a second, he couldn’t even form words. Couldn’t even think them. He just wanted Finn so goddamn bad.

He’d thought once he’d stopped resisting that it would get easier. That the compulsion would feel less desperate.

But his hunger for Finn had only grown. He wanted to take him to bed and keep him there for a full fucking week.

He groaned as he finally let his own hand drift downwards, tucking it under the waistband of his boxer briefs, closing his eyes and imagining that he wasn’t experiencing his own touch, but Finn’s.

Finn’s sure, perfect hands.

“Your hand feels good,” Finn panted, breaking the charged silence. “But your mouth feels even better.”

Jacob groaned again as he worked his dick. He wanted to feel Finn’s cock, hard and twitching against his tongue, deep in his throat. Wanted to make his man moan. Wanted to tuck his fingers inside and fuck him until Finn screamed .

“Tomorrow night,” Jacob promised, voice rough, desperate. “Tomorrow. Just you and me, my bed. No distractions.”

Finn’s breathing stuttered and he let out a low moan as he came. Only a second later, Jacob followed him.

“I love the sound of that,” Finn said sleepily. “It’s gonna get me through all of tomorrow’s bullshit.”

“Please don’t think about having sex with me when you’re with your dad,” Jacob said, but he couldn’t be really worked up about it, because his orgasm had reduced him to a boneless, contented mess.

“How about I just don’t tell you?” Finn teased.

“Did you guys have fun tonight?” Jacob finished cleaning up and changed the subject.

“It was good,” Finn said. “Missed you, though. Wished I’d bailed and gone to the zoo with you and Jackie and Krista.”

“It was fun, but you had plans. Important plans.”

Finn gave an exaggerated sigh. “So you keep telling me. When are plans with you important?”

“Tomorrow night,” Jacob said, saying it like a prayer. “Don’t let Morgan fuck this one up.”

“There’s no way I’d let that happen,” Finn promised.

Jacob stewed for a second. Not because he thought Finn would let Morgan ruin their plans, but his mind had already gone back to what he’d been considering earlier. What Bryan had said to him.

“Do you ever feel like we’re just . . .wrong place, wrong time?” Jacob wondered. As soon as he said the words he wanted to snatch them back.

“No,” Finn said, sounding very sure.

“No?” Jacob wished he could borrow—maybe even keep—some of that certainty.

“I feel like you showed up right when I needed you, right when I was drowning,” Finn said softly.

“For hockey, yeah,” Jacob pointed out. Why was he even arguing about this? Just enjoy the afterglow, you stupid idiot.

“For hockey, yeah,” Finn repeated. “But everything else is like an extra super great cherry on top. Something I didn’t expect, but . . .but that makes it so much better. Makes everything better.” His voice hushed. “I didn’t think I was unhappy before, but you make me happy, Jacob.”

Jacob felt raw. Exposed. Because he was happy, too. Happy to be adjacent to the ice again. Happy to coach, even. And so fucking happy with Finn.

“You make me happy too.” He couldn’t keep the truth back. Didn’t even want to.

“Why do I feel like there’s a but there?”

Jacob sighed. “It’s not a but .”

“Might be more fun if it was,” Finn joked. “My butt specifically.”

It would be more fun. Sex with Finn was more fun than it had ever been with anyone before. Jacob had never felt as free to explore, to just enjoy , the way he did with Finn. Was it because he was on the brink of coming out? Or was it just Finn? He didn’t know.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s got you all worked up?” Finn continued. “I know you. You’re worried about something.”

Jacob hesitated.

“And,” Finn added, “you’re not the only one who can tell. I can always tell.”

He could. Jacob would find it annoying if it wasn’t so absolutely spectacularly wonderful, having someone know him this way.

“You never worry about how you’re starting your life and I’m—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re ending yours,” Finn interrupted.

“Okay, that you’re starting your NHL career and mine’s ended?”

“No,” Finn said.

“I mean . . .”

“No,” Finn repeated again, more firmly this time.

“Oh. Okay. I just . . .I worried. I don’t want to hold you back.”

Jacob could hear Finn’s ridiculous expression through the phone. “As if you would ever.”

“I might,” Jacob said. He worried he would. That he’d be a distraction. That he’d be the thing that made Finn take his eyes off the prize. Though at least he could say with one-hundred-percent certainty that it hadn’t happened so far. Finn was playing better than ever, with a locked-in focus that Jacob recognized.

He was learning to understand himself. To believe in himself.

It was a beautiful thing to watch and Jacob wanted to be there for every second of it, but not if somehow him being around was the thing that screwed it up.

“No, you wouldn’t. I never think of it that way. I think . . .” Finn paused. “Don’t freak out, okay, I know we haven’t talked about this.”

“I’m not freaking out,” Jacob said, but his fingers were nervously tapping on his bare thigh, and he wasn’t sure he could stop them.

“I think of you next to me, during the hard parts coming up. And I know there’s gonna be hard parts. I think about you supporting me. Being there for me. Making me laugh when I only want to cry.”

Jacob swallowed hard. “I want to do that.”

“And that you’ve done it before, and that you’ve gone through it, and you know, better than anyone else? That’s a gift, Jacob, it’s not a curse.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

“I wish you thought so,” Finn countered.

“Bryan told me I was being very stupid.”

“An older brother’s prerogative,” Finn teased.

It was. Especially when he was right.

“I . . .I didn’t want to be right, Finn.” Jacob had a feeling Finn already knew this, but he wanted to say it, anyway.

“I know,” Finn said. “Just . . .I want you to believe what I believe. That this is great and wonderful and awesome.”

“I do. I do .” And he wanted to believe that it wouldn’t be that way only for now. That next year, and the year after that, they’d both believe it still.

But neither of them could make that promise. Not yet anyway. It was still too new. Besides, they still had one huge hurdle to get over before they could even begin to think that way.

Morgan.

“Good.” Jacob could hear the affection—maybe even more—in Finn’s voice, and he hung on to that, hoped he’d remember exactly the way he sounded now, so in the future when his own certainty wavered, he’d have Finn’s.

“I . . .” Jacob hesitated, but he wanted Finn to understand how much he cared without being stupid enough to say the words just yet. “I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah?”

“If you’d asked me to get out of my warm bed tonight, I’d have done it,” Jacob said.

“Just think about how we’re both going to be there, tomorrow,” Finn said dreamily.

Finn and his dad had never been much for exchanging gifts.

Morgan never needed anything—if he did, he got it for himself—and he’d made sure Finn never really lacked for anything anyway. Besides, Finn only needed his hockey gear and enough spending money to keep him in Sammy’s subs and fries at Jimmy’s and occasionally a drink or two at Darcelle’s. Anything more felt like an embarrassment of riches.

But it was Christmas, they were spending it together, and so Finn had decided he should get his dad something . So he’d taken his last shutout puck, saving it after he’d realized it was his twenty-fifth since he’d started playing goalie and had it framed.

Jacob had wondered if he wouldn’t like to keep it for himself, but Finn had enough pucks, and this was something his dad would actually find meaningful.

Success—always a language that Morgan Reynolds understood.

After they’d demolished the brunch that his dad had catered in the high-rise apartment he’d bought after Finn had transferred to Portland, Finn handed him the gift, and Morgan looked surprised.

“You got me something?”

Finn rolled his eyes. “Dad, it’s Christmas.”

“I know, but I don’t really need—”

“Just open it,” Finn said.

“Fine, fine,” Morgan said. Then he shot him a knowing smile and dug something out of the back pocket of his jeans. “Good thing I got you something, too.”

“Well, open yours,” Finn said, after Morgan handed him an envelope. Of course he hadn’t wrapped it. And of course, after he looked inside noticed that it was cash.

He’d been surprised enough that Morgan had actually had a tree put up—he’d hired someone else to do it, of course—but it had been a surprisingly thoughtful gesture.

Morgan tore open the paper and for a second, just stared at the framed puck and its accompanying engraved plaque.

What if he’d read the situation wrong? What if his dad didn’t want a reminder that he was good—or that he actually wished Finn had recorded more shutouts since he’d switched positions?

But then his dad cleared his throat and looked over at Finn with a surprising amount of emotion in his eyes.

“You’d give this to me?” he asked, tapping at the glass covering the mounted puck.

“Yeah,” Finn said. He’d told himself it wasn’t a big deal, but was that really true, when it felt like he’d been holding his breath since he’d handed his dad the package?

“Finn . . .” Morgan met his gaze. “Thank you.”

He shrugged, trying to shrug off the emotion rising in him. “It’s not a big deal.”

Morgan sighed. “Yes, yes , it is. This should be something you keep for your own cabinet, to remember this year by, and you’re giving to me . And I haven’t been—”

“It’s okay, Dad,” Finn said awkwardly.

He both wanted the apology, and he didn’t want it, too.

“No, it’s not okay,” Morgan huffed out. “I’ve been too hard on you. You’re doing great, in spite of me, not because of me.”

“I bet that must really chap your ass,” Finn said.

Morgan laughed. “Actually, no.”

“I play hockey ’cause I love it, you know? But I started . . .I had the desire in the first place, because you did it first. Because you loved it so much.”

“Yeah?” Morgan’s voice cracked.

“Yeah,” Finn said. “I’d see you on the ice and you’d be smiling, like you never wanted to be anyplace else.”

He wanted to snatch his words back after he’d said them, because he saw the melancholy bitter twist as Morgan tried to smile.

Finn pulled his dad into a hug. Squeezing him tight. Morgan went and didn’t fight him, even as he cleared his throat and mumbled, “No, no, it’s good. I’m good.”

He gave him one last squeeze. “I know you miss it,” Finn said.

Morgan’s chin tilted down, like he was agreeing but didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. Which . . .typical Morgan. But he said, to Finn’s surprise, “I’ve been putting too much on you.”

“I can handle it,” Finn said, even though he certainly hadn’t been handling it well, before.

“Maybe now,” Morgan said wryly. “And not because of anything I’ve done. I told Braun at the game the other night how proud of you I was, and he asked me if I had ever told you that, exactly like that, and I realized that no . . .I didn’t. Not like I should’ve.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Finn said awkwardly.

“I know it doesn’t fix everything, but we’ll get there . . .right?”

Finn didn’t know, but he remembered how he’d felt last night, when Jacob had confessed his worries. He believed, despite all the cards stacked against them.

The cards were definitely stacked against him and Morgan fixing their shit.

But for the first time, Finn thought that if Morgan tried, then he could try too.

“We’ll get there,” he told his dad. “Now where are we going to hang this?” He tapped the plaque.

“Oh, I’m not anywhere long enough to hang it on a wall,” Morgan said seriously. “It’s going right into my suitcase so I can take it wherever I go. Look at it every single day.”

And maybe they really would be okay.

They spent the afternoon watching football—and ordering in pizza—his dad complaining about how the NHL no longer played on Christmas so he was forced to watch the NFL.

“My friend Brody’s boyfriend is going to be a really famous football player,” Finn offered. “I know Ramsey went with him to a game, and I was thinking I should too.”

“So how’s your boyfriend and when am I gonna get to meet him?” Morgan wondered.

“What happened to all those warnings about dating someone during the season?”

Morgan shrugged. “You seem determined to do whatever you want, so what am I going to say about it? Besides, you were right, I married your mom during the season. Sometimes . . .sometimes we do things that don’t seem like they make a lot of sense, but they make us happy.”

“That why you married Mom?”

Morgan was gazing at the TV, but it didn’t really look like he was seeing it at all.

“Uh . . .yes. Yeah. Of course.”

But Finn wasn’t sure that he’d understood at all. He was just glad Morgan had gotten distracted from asking to meet Jacob.

An hour later he got out of the Uber at Jacob’s place and headed towards the door.

Jacob had it open before he was even halfway down the path.

“Hey,” Finn said, tilting his mouth up for a kiss hello.

Jacob brushed a kiss across his mouth. “Merry Christmas,” Jacob murmured. He closed the door behind them, his arm winding around Finn’s waist and pulling him in tighter against him.

Finn went easily, kissing Jacob back. He was hoping, with each passing moment and with how passionately Jacob was kissing him, like he couldn’t get enough of his mouth, that they might end up heading straight to bed.

Phone sex was all well and good, but he wanted Jacob’s hard, solid body under him and over him and around him.

But Jacob didn’t tug him towards the staircase and disappointingly, he broke the kiss, pulling away from Finn a fraction.

“Come on,” he said, sounding breathless. He took Finn’s hand and led him into the living room. There was a fire in the fireplace, wood crackling, and a small tree in the corner. A bottle of wine sat next to a trio of flickering candles on the coffee table, two glasses already poured.

“This is . . .really nice,” Finn said.

He wouldn’t have thought Jacob was a romantic, and wouldn’t have thought he’d need that, but it turned out he really, really liked it.

Jacob produced a small velvet box from his pocket.

“I just thought . . .” He sounded self-conscious. “I didn’t know if we were exchanging gifts, but I wanted you to have these.”

“Not a ring then?” Finn teased, enjoying the way Jacob flushed, as he tugged him down to the comfortable couch, tucking him under his arm.

“Little soon for that, don’t you think?” Jacob asked. “Your dad doesn’t know. The world doesn’t know.”

“But they will,” Finn said, even though he knew Jacob was right. Besides, the box wasn’t even the right size for a ring.

“True.”

Jacob looked nervous, anyway, as Finn opened the box.

A pair of silver cufflinks shone in the dim flickering light of the room. He lifted one and made a pleased noise in the back of his throat at the engraved evergreen tree on one and his initials on the other.

The metal was heavy, substantial and smooth in his palm as he stroked them.

“These are gorgeous,” Finn said, tilting his head so he could look at Jacob’s face better. “You had these made just for me.”

“This is such an exciting time of your life . . .I want you to remember it,” Jacob said, clearing his throat. “You really like them?”

And suddenly Finn’s throat felt a little tight, too. He’d come here expecting sex, and well, maybe a little bit of holiday romance, but he hadn’t been expecting this . “I love them.”

“Good,” Jacob said.

Carefully, Finn nestled the cufflinks back into the box. “I feel bad I didn’t have anything for you . . .”

“I’ve got every single thing I could possibly want, right here,” Jacob said firmly, and the look in his eyes, content and happy, helped Finn to believe that was true.

They stayed like that for a long while. Sipping wine and just pressed up together, watching the fire.

Finn had already told him about the gift he’d given Morgan, but he hadn’t told Jacob how Morgan had reacted.

“I keep saying this, and I kinda wish he’d do it from farther away, but the man really seems to want to make things right with you,” Jacob said after Finn had told him.

“I think so,” Finn said.

Jacob’s arm squeezed him tighter, tugging him fractionally closer. “How do you feel about that?”

“Good. But also frustrated. Because why didn’t he do this two years ago?” Before Jacob could answer that question—as if anyone really could—he continued. “He’s never going to be perfect, though. He’s still going to fuck up.” The wad of cash his dad had tossed into an envelope and shoved at him promised that. But then the look in Morgan’s eyes when he’d unwrapped Finn’s plaque told another side of the story.

“No question. He’s Morgan, so he’ll do everything he can to screw it up, but in the end, you gotta believe he means well,” Jacob reminded him.

“Ugh, I don’t even want to,” Finn complained.

“I won’t, then,” Jacob teased. “What else could I do instead?”

“Kiss me,” Finn murmured, tilting his face closer.

Jacob didn’t need another invitation. His hands cupped Finn’s face and his tongue slipped into his mouth, and buoyed with emotion and all this undeniable romance, Finn gave himself over to it. Draped his body over Jacob’s, loving the solid warmth of it underneath him, the way his heartbeat accelerated as Finn settled into his lap and kissed him even deeper.

“Feels so good,” Jacob murmured into his mouth. “Can’t get enough.”

Finn couldn’t either. He squirmed closer, feeling Jacob’s cock growing hard underneath him, his own trapped in his pants, pressing into Jacob’s stomach.

He kept expecting Jacob to put the brakes on, but he didn’t, hand sliding confident and sure underneath Finn’s shirt, finding his bare skin, stroking it like he owned it.

Finn settled lower into Jacob’s lap, grinding against him, no hesitation at all. His hands gripped Jacob’s shoulders, loving the width and the breadth and the flex of them, then slid over, to pick apart the buttons on his shirt.

“Need you,” Finn gasped as Jacob’s touch swept up and down his back and then went lower still, tucking two fingertips under his belt.

Finn had gotten all the buttons undone that he could reach and spread the two halves of his shirt open, curling his fingers into his chest, feeling where his heart beat hard against them.

“What do you want?” Jacob asked.

Finn pulled back a fraction and shot him a hot look. “I want you inside me, yesterday.”

“Hang on,” Jacob said and with an impressive demonstration of strength, lifted them both off the couch.

Finn’s feet wrapped around his back and groaned as he stumbled in the direction of the bedroom. Jacob deposited Finn on the edge of the bed, and Finn reached out, tugging his shirt off the rest of the way, then started in on his pants, pushing Jacob’s jeans down.

“Want to look at you this time,” Jacob murmured, leaning in and kissing him again. It was impossibly sweet and also dirty, his tongue sweeping into Finn’s mouth.

“Yes,” Finn panted as he broke the kiss.

“Don’t move,” Jacob said, like Finn had any intention of moving from this spot. He skirted around the bed, only wearing a pair of tight black boxer briefs, and Finn watched, loving the view.

Already looking forward to the view he’d be treated with when he convinced Jacob to lose those, too.

Jacob returned, tossing lube on the bed next to Finn and then tugged off his shirt, kissing him again, hard and insistent this time. His pants were the next to go, Jacob’s hands finding every bit of bare skin to touch, to caress.

There was a part of Finn that wanted to tell Jacob to get on with it, that he didn’t need the kissing and the foreplay, but the more it continued, the more Finn realized he liked it.

That he loved it.

Each and every touch of Jacob’s felt like fire trailing over his skin, building up his arousal but also banking it.

Finally, Jacob slipped off his briefs, but to Finn’s frustration, he didn’t go for his cock first thing. Just lowered himself to his knees and pressed his lips to the crease of Finn’s hip, then traced his tongue along the cut muscle there. “Gorgeous,” he murmured. “My perfect, gorgeous Finn.”

Finn gasped, cock twitching as Jacob finally curled his tongue around the head.

He was only giving him little, teasing touches of his mouth, though, keeping him floating, not overwhelming him with pleasure. Then he slipped a lube-wet finger lower and circled Finn’s hole.

He cried out as Jacob pressed it in. “More,” he begged, suddenly not content to just float along that plateau of feeling good but wanting to be overwhelmed by it.

“I got you, baby,” Jacob murmured, and Finn felt the pressure of two of his big, calloused fingers sliding into him. He bent his head and licked Finn’s cock, and Finn’s back bowed with it.

Jacob’s fingers hit that spot inside that lit him up and he groaned again.

“You ready?” he asked, lifting himself up and draping his body over Finn’s. Brushing a kiss against his lips.

“Yes,” Finn said and went to reach for Jacob’s cock as he slipped out of his underwear, but Jacob’s jaw tightened.

“If you do that, this is going to be over really fucking quick,” Jacob warned. “I’m . . .I want you too bad, Finn.”

“Same,” Finn agreed breathily. “Come on.”

Jacob didn’t need any more encouragement, fitting the head of his cock to Finn’s hole and pushing in gently as he leaned over his chest, fingers gripping Finn’s thigh tightly.

Every time they did this—and it had only been a handful of times before now—Finn felt overwhelmed. But this time unwound and wound him at the exact same goddamn time.

He panted into Jacob’s mouth as their lips met, Jacob kissing him deeply as he bottomed out.

“Feel good?” Jacob murmured and Finn could only nod.

Wanted to beg for more, to feel like this always—protected by the warm cage of Jacob’s body and set free by it, too—but he didn’t have the words and then Jacob began to move anyway.

It started slow and considerate, but Finn twitched his body and began to meet Jacob’s thrusts and after that, it was a hot sweaty race to the end. Jacob’s gaze searing Finn’s face as Finn groaned and came between them, only from the way Jacob’s cock felt inside him and the way his dick rocked up against Jacob’s abs.

Jacob followed only a second later, groaning into Finn’s mouth, a litany of praise falling from his lips about how good and right and amazing Finn was. How he didn’t know how he’d ever lived without him. How Finn made him happier than he’d ever been.

It was just sex, Finn told himself. Maybe, finally, the really good sex they’d discussed weeks ago, on the way home from the Salem game.

But it felt like more than that, too. A turning point.

Jacob got up and grabbed them a washcloth, helping Finn clean up and then tucking him up against his chest as they lazed in bed.

Finn’s gaze caught on something above them. “Did you—” He burst out laughing before he could finish the question. “You did not.”

“I don’t know, it kinda looks like I hung mistletoe above the bed,” Jacob teased. “You like?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect.” Finn paused. Thinking of everything Jacob had murmured into his skin at the end. Everything he felt. “Kind of like you.”

He could feel Jacob smile, lips pressed to the side of his head. “Yeah?”

“Mean it,” Finn said.