It was love.
He recognized steps behind him on the wooden floorboards, rapid at first, then hesitant. Sucking in a deep breath, Hank turned around, and there he was, like it was only just yesterday, those brown eyes flickering between Hank’s, blinking a few times.
“Hank?” The brown was swimming now, like the muddy-brown river, specks of golden peeking through, on its solitary endless quest.
“Hey kid,” Hank offered lamely, but what did you say when you were finally beholding the one thing dearest to you in life? The one thing that you couldn’t—wouldn’t, goddammit!—live without for even a fraction of another second. The moths fluttered a few times, restless, ambiguous. For a split second it looked like Finn was going to take off and leap into his arms, and Hank ached with the phantom feel of his body connecting with Finn’s as it remembered how it felt. Then the moths settled, a shadow of wariness crossing Finn’s beautiful face as he took a careful step towards Hank.
“You’re here,” Finn whispered, puffs of white dancing towards Hank until they dissolved right in front of him.
“I am.” He shrugged. “How ya been, kid?”Shit.Finn chuckled, barely audible above the rush from the ocean.
“I’ve been okay, I guess.” He started worrying his bottom lip in that telltale way that told Hank that Finn was disappearing inside his own head. Thoughts trying to convince him that Hank couldn’t possibly be here for him. “What brings you to Oregon?” Finn continued, his voice flat, the protective shield slowly coming up, but he was going to be damned if this was going to end before he’d at least spoken his mind. Pulling off his gloves, discarding them on a bench to his right, he reached for Finn’s hand, sighing with relief when he didn’t pull away but accepted it in his. As their fingers connected, Finn’s so smooth and warmthat a small whimper left his lips, and Hank wanted nothing more than to swallow it up.
“Hank?” Squeezing Finn’s fingers, he braced himself, hoping his words didn’t fail him now. Not now.
“Well, you see, I got to thinkin’ the other day.”
“Now you’re just bragging,” Finn smiled teasingly, his eyes coasting across Hank’s face, fine lines crinkling around his eyes.Shit,Hank loved when Finn’s smiles reached all the way to his eyes. He would just gobble them up like sugary treats.
“Right,” Hank chuckled quietly.
“What were you thinking?” Finn asked, his gaze downcast like their worn boots were the most interesting spectacle ever.
“Well, I’ve never really been out and about much. Only on a few trips with Eugene here and there. I figured it was about time to see more of the country. Someone told me to come here.” His voice grew raspy, recalling Finn’s modest plea in the letter. ‘Please, Hank. When you’re ready.’He swallowed down the nerves, then once more to give himself pause to think of what to say next. “I heard they have a fine air and space museum in Eugene.” The words came easier than he’d expected, and Finn looked surprised, too, as he finally looked up.
“Yeah? Where did you hear that?”
“A friend told me.”
“A friend, huh?” Finn asked nonchalantly, although that small glimmer of hope in his eyes gave him away.
“Yeah, well, maybe more than a friend,” Hank admitted. “Look, kid—”
“Well, you’re in luck, then,” Finn blurted. “You caught me just in time.”Just in time.A sour taste rose in Hank’s mouth, Finn’s words unexpected, spoken with such casualness.
“What do you mean?” he forced out, unsure if he wanted to know what Finn meant.
“If you’d come after New Year’s, you’d have to visit the museum by yourself.” They were standing so close, the toes of their boots nearly touching, their breaths intermingling in the space between them.
“Oh,” Hank murmured. “You goin’ someplace?” Finn nodded as he reached out his other hand, and for a moment, it looked like he was going to run it through Hank’s beard. Then he stopped mid-movement, his fist clenched awkwardly between them.
“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head. “I’ve gotten a job out of state.”
“Right.”Say something, you idiot, his heart screamed at him.Tell him why you’ve come. Tell him that each breath is a goddamn Sisyphean task without him.But instead, he just asked, “When are you leaving, then?”
“January second, probably,” Finn spoke, and it was the strangest thing because his eyes were smiling now, a strange expression curling around his lips, the frail afternoon light hitting his scar, making it light up like silver. “Just gotta wrap up a few loose ends around here, then I’m off.”Off. Just like that. His heart was running a mile a minute, pounding away frantically in his head, rushing like a wild river in his ears. Suddenly, he just felt this all-consuming tiredness pull at him, and if it wasn’t for Finn’s beloved face swimming before his eyes, he might’ve fallen over.
“Hank?” Finn took a step closer, and now they were almost touching, their bellies almost rubbing together. “Aren’t you gonna ask me where I’m going, Hank?”Shit.
“Doesn’t matter,” he managed to say. “You’re goin’, aren’t ya?”
“Ask me, Hank. Ask me where I’m going.” There was a pleading edge to Finn’s voice, as he squeezed Hank’s fingers impossibly tight.
“Where’re you goin’, Finn?” he whispered with the last effort he could muster.
“Whitney.” Out of all the places that Finn could’ve mentioned, Whitney would’ve been the last, well, almost last, to come to mind. He might as well have said the Moon.
“Whitney?” Hank repeated, his tongue feeling heavy and alien in his mouth.
