Jaime
The next few days went by slowly, and all at once.
Something had happened during their dinner conversation that first night in Jaime’s dining nook. Finn was more distant now than he had been the first day, far more like the professional bodyguard and less the… whatever he had been to Jaime, before.
For a few moments, Jaime had seen glimpses of it—in the way that Finn had hungrily stared at him, in the tenderness of his hand on Jaime’s when he helped him breathe, and told him that he believed him. It had felt like he was saying more; like what he really meant was that he believed in Jaime, believed in his ability to be strong for himself and for Vera, and to speak the truth during the trial without completely falling apart.
But after their conversation over that delicious meal—who knew Shepherd’s Pie could be so good—it seemed that Finn saw just how broken Jaime had become; that he wouldn’t ever be the naive and open-hearted boy from before.
That’s who Finn had wanted.
But now he had Silas. Monstrously proportioned, gorgeous Silas, who in the short stops he made by the house to check onthem could make Finn laugh and grumble in a way only born of two souls that deeply understood each other.
In the following days, there weren’t any more moments between them like there had been in the kitchen, when Finn had looked at him with hunger and Jaime’s pulse ratcheted up when he pictured Finn padding around in domestic softness, or when his hair stood on end like he was being watched.
Watched, because when Finn looked at him that way, eyes dark and focused, Jaime couldn’t shake the sense that he would devour him entirely if given the chance.
And all Jaime could think was how divine it would be to be completely overcome by Finn.
It should have been a relief, but really it just made him sad. Another emotion to add to the shame, resentment, bitterness, and emptiness that he’d formed himself around in the last year.
Sad. He was sad that Finn didn’t want him anymore.
He could vividly recall the moment he saw it click for Finn—the moment Jaime felt him recoil and withdraw his hand at his brokenness, weakness, and anxiety over the trial, over his inability to help Vera when she was killed by that man in such a brutal way. Finn must have already seen what it took Sam much longer to realize—that Jaime was a burden to those around him and he shouldn’t get too close lest he become someone Jaimeneeded.
So, Jaime pulled back too. He let Finn keep his professional distance, and did his best to stay out of the way—especially when Silas stopped by to check on them.
The second day that Finn was staying with him, Silas and two others had come out to help install the cameras and motion detectors. Finn had found him that morning reading on the couch—Jaime had just started a new romance novel—and told him the team would be by in a few minutes to get everything set up.
He’d shuffled in the doorway for a minute, like there was something else he’d wanted to say, so Jaime set his book down to ask if there was anything he needed to do before they arrived.
“No, there’s nothing. It will all be hard-wired in for privacy, so it won’t run on your internet. They will take care of everything. Cameras are going to be set up in the entryway,” Finn pointed at the top corner facing the door, “living area, kitchen, and hallways. All of your doors and windows will be monitored with motion detection and glass-breaking sensors.”
He’d paused then, seemingly waiting for Jaime’s input, so he nodded along. Finn’s voice was different, like he was chewing on his words. Maybe he wore a retainer or something?
“Outside, I’ll have them install enough cameras to capture the full perimeter of the home. Is there anywhere else you’d like us to monitor?”
Jaime shook his head. “No, thank you. That seems like more than enough. Hopefully none of it is necessary.”
Finn nodded again, continuing to stare, and Jaime almost checked to make sure he didn’t have something on his face, but then a knock on the door interrupted them, and Silas and the tech team were there.
It took them all day, but by dinner that evening Finn passed Jaime a tablet across the table, and showed him the various camera angles and features of his new security system. He’d poked around at it a little, but passed it back to Finn without much fuss. He’d said he would take care of monitoring everything while he was here, and that was that.
There hadn’t been any more handholding or tender words over their crispy chicken and pasta that night, or in the following days.
Finn’s voicecut through the quiet, pulling Jaime away from his book. “I need to go and grab a few more changes of clothes from my place in Silver Rapids. I was thinking of running errands, too, and maybe grabbing lunch somewhere?”
They had settled into a routine over the last week, mostly keeping to themselves in-between meals. It was the first thing Finn had said to him that day. Already mid-morning, but still chilly, Jaime had tucked himself in by the gas fireplace to read his fourth romance novel in as many days while Finn tapped away on his laptop in the kitchen.
He was just getting to the part where the hot and grumpy game warden was about to confess his deep and irrevocable love for the new wildlife veterinarian in town.
And then suck his dick.
It had been a slow and angsty buildup and Jaime was very invested in reading—and then re-reading at a later time—the payoff.
He blinked up at Finn, taking a few seconds to process his words. “Oh. Ok, sure. No worries, I’m sure I’ll be fine here until you get back.”
Finn stared, a muscle working in his jaw. He was very good at staring. And making as much noise as possible while clomping through the house at six o’clock in the morning.
