“It’s been awhile since I’ve heard you talk that much,” Jaime said, still fiddling with his napkin and silverware, voice hushed in the quiet.
It was Finn’s turn to blush. “I like cooking and talking about food, and Andi has always welcomed me when I’ve pestered her about her recipes. She’s taught me how to make pretty much everything I’ve made for you this week. Everything I can make that tastes good, anyway.”
Jaime nodded, but was still fidgeting with the napkin.
Maybe he was nervous to be out in public after everything that had happened? They’d gotten a few glances from people on the street as they parked and walked inside, but no one had followed them. Finn knew there’d be less of that in Silver Rapids than in Monroe.
Or, maybe Jaime didn’t like that Finn had brought him here, of all places. Maybe it was too much of a reminder of that night? Suddenly anxious, Finn asked, “Should I have brought you here? Or are you worried?—”
“Silas is your brother?” Jamie blurted out, interrupting his question.
He looked wide-eyed, like he’d startled himself with the outburst. “I just, you never mentioned before that you had a brother. So I didn’t think, I mean, I thought you two were, well. Not brothers.” He blushed, the tips of his ears going pink, and Finn very much wanted to nibble them, just there.
Instead, he smiled and tipped his head in a yes and no gesture. “Not by blood, but in all the ways that matter, yes. He’s the friend I told you about, the one I grew up with. We met in the 6th grade and became nearly inseparable. We’ve called each other brothers ever since; followed each other into the military and then moved in together once we were out and joined up with Sheppard at the security firm. ”
In those early days of their friendship, they had claimed each other in some intrinsic way. Not in the way that Finn longed to claim a mate now—longed to claimJaime, now—no, they’d known as teenagers that they weren’t who each other wanted.
They hadn’t smelled like they belonged together as mates or lovers, but as brothers—to Finn, Silas smelled like trust, and relaxed ears, and puppy-piling on each other after a long run through the woods.
He smelled like pack.
Jaime was blinking fast and looked scandalized. He stage-whispered, “But…I thought you were in love with each other! I thought you were a couple!”
Finn swallowed his drink of water wrong and choked, coughing and spluttering until he could get a breath.
Thankfully, Andi showed up just then with their plates and plates of food, giving him a few moments to collect himself. They’d have leftovers for at least a day or so, which was good, because Finn was running out of impressive meals to make Jaime. He didn’t want to dip into his repertoire ofmehdinners just yet.
Not until he’d shown Jaime just how impressive he could be in other ways, first. That is, if he ever let Finn touch him, after apparently thinking that he was in love with Silas. How absolutely fucking bizarre.
Once Andi refilled their water glasses and left, smirking at the two of them and wishing them a happy meal, he leaned over toward Jaime. Lowly, he asked, “What the fuck gave you the impression that I wasin lovewith Silas?”
“You did!” Jaime was gesturing wildly now, ignoring the food steaming between them and voice pitching higher and higher, all attempts to stay quiet forgotten. “I heard you that first day, in my guest room! He told you that he loves you! He called youFinny! You said you felt the same way about him!”
It was Finn’s turn to stare at Jaime like he’d just sprouted three heads.
Jesus Christ.
A slow smile spread across his face, wide and true and aching, and then he burst into laughter; deep, full, head thrown back, tears leaking out of the corners of his eyes, laughter.
Jaime’s face pinched into a pout, and he made the most adorable littlehuffsound, which only made Finn laugh even harder.
Finally, he calmed down enough to speak. “Don’t give me that face, baby. It’s a damned weapon and I’ve done nothing to deserve it.”
Jaime scowled even harder, blushing at the endearment.
Interesting.
Still sputtering with laughter, Finn calmed down enough to explain. “Of course I love him, he’s my brother. And he’s called me Finny since we were kids. Your case, the people involved, it’s…” he shook his head, sobering more. “He’s usually the one on point with a client, not me. But for reasons that are his to disclose, it’s better that he stays in the background as much as possible. In your guest room, he was telling me to be careful. That’s all.”
Jaime blinked at him, owlish eyes wide and mossy and stunned. “Oh.”
Is that what he would look like staring up at me from his knees, sucking on my cock?
Finn croaked out, “Oh?”
Jaime made that pouting face again. “Yes. Oh.”
He chuckled, and picked up his fork. Finn tried, and failed, to shake off the image of Jaime, spit-messy and fucked-out, swallowing his cock. But, subtly, quietly, he felt a shift between them, in their dynamic, and he wondered…
