“Yeah,” Finn shrugged.
“Ain’t I a little old to be ababe?” Hank groaned.
“Oh, right, but I’m not too old to be a kid. I see.” And then, just at the cusp of theI see, the carefree tone to Finn’s voice transformed into something deeper, something vulnerable. The expression of utter surrender on Finn’s face mirrored Hank’s own as he continued, “I need you too, Hank. Always have. Always will.” Then he buried his face against Hank’s chest, his slender fingers grabbing onto Hank’s lambskin coat. “You smell so good, Hank. Like the woods and the earth and… just like everything that’s good and strong and safe.” Wrapping his arms around Finn’s shoulders, Hank drew him close against him,the initial need that had inhabited his body moments ago now replaced by a deeper feeling of contentment. And relief.
Resting the left side of his face against Hank’s heart, Finn sighed, his body growing heavy against Hank’s.
“This thing between us. The way it just… happened. You ever wonder what it is?” Hank spoke, pressing a kiss against the crown of Finn’s head.
“I have,” Finn nodded. “But I’m not sure that I know exactly. I just felt drawn to you the moment I met you. And then safe. It’s like, no matter what I need, you always seem to know exactly what it is. Even though I might not always understand it myself or be able to ask for it, you still know what I need.” Finn paused, turning his face, his eyes meeting Hank’s. “It’s like sometimes I just need a friend,” he blinked, mischief suddenly taking over. “Then other times I need aDaddy. Some days I just need someone to talk me out of my head. But it’s always going to beyou, Hank. I don’t care what it is or what it’s called. I just needyou.” He paused briefly, each of his words resonating with the same need inside Hank. “The first time you kissed me, Hank, it felt like a motherfucking kick to the balls and whiplash in the neck.”
“That doesn’t sound nice,” Hank chuckled.
“It wasn’t,” Finn admitted. “But it was necessary.”
“Yeah?” It had felt like that, hadn’t it? Exactly like that.
“Yeah.”
“I think I needed it, too, kid,” Hank confessed. “More than anythin’.”
“You did,” Finn agreed.
“Okay, then.”
“Okay.”
“You’re probably gonna regret this, sweetheart. I’m a grumpy old man set in his ways.”
“So you keep saying, but you’re really not that grumpy, Hank.” Finn reached up and linked his arms around Hank’s neck.
“But I’m old,” he winced.
“I prefer mature.” Finn tilted his head, brown eyes coasting across his face. “It has a more sophisticated ring to it.” Sucking his bottom lip playfully into his mouth, he nodded his head towards the ocean. “C’mon, old man. Before it gets too dark.”
“What about—” Hank nodded at the house.
“Oh, them. Yeah, they’re probably done spying on us by now, so let’s just go for a walk. Give them some time to regroup and come up with a game plan,” Finn laughed as he pulled Hank along with him toward the steps.
“Game plan?”
“Yeah, my parents have probably done the math by now, realizing that their only son has had sex with a guy close to their age.” He stuck out his tongue teasingly, as he leapt down the stairs, Hank trying to keep up.
“Jesus, kid.”
“Yeah, probably don’t call me that around them,” Finn panted, out of breath, the harsh wind throwing them both left and right as they neared the ocean. Grabbing Hank’s hand, tangling their fingers together, he smiled, cheeks bright red, the wind coaxing tears from his eyes. “Nogood boyseither, until we’re alone. You know how I get when you call me that.”That little shit.As if he would ever call Finn that anywhere in public.
They ran next to each other across the dunes, Hank’s side stinging, his lungs burning. As they reached the top, they stood next to each other, taking in the violently beautiful spectacle that the ocean seemed to be putting on just for them.
“So, you don’t want my heart, huh?” Hank yelled over the roar from the ocean, the air tinged heavily with sand and salt.
“What?” A puzzled frown appeared between Finn’s brows, grains of sand already sticking to his hair.
“The letter,” Hank shrugged.
“Oh,” Finn was back to smiling. “Meh, it’s just a muscle anyway… C’mon, this way, or we’ll blow away.” Finn nodded at a row of sheds that were probably used by the local fishermen but seemed abandoned for the season. Running towards them, the wind beating against their faces, sand grains hitting them like tiny needles, Hank felt more present than he’d been in the longest time. And he felt something inside shifting, as if that final lump of sadness dissolved, making room for something new. Something lighter.
As they reached the first shed, both leaning their backs against the wooden side, panting, they were finally out of the wind. Finn shook his head, sand stuck to the tears in his lashes.
