We are our own worst critics, Teddy thought, always.
“How do I teach people how to dance who can’t dance?”
“Same way you taught me and Frankie. You try, and no matter how many times you fail, you keep trying.”
“Is that a pact?” Teddy grinned at Finn wryly. “To not let either of us get so frustrated or afraid that we stop trying?”
The sadness peeked through Finn’s expression again, mostly because he seemed surprised, but then he warmed, smiling and raising his glass of wine, a red this time, and Teddy did the same. “I’ll drink to that.”
They clinked.
“You might be onto something with the teaching,” Teddy admitted after a pleasant sip, “but right now, I’m hungry and sore and ready for relaxation via a stupid, raunchy movie.” He indicatedWet Hot American Summeron his Netflix screen. “How about my life path waits until later?”
“You’re sore?” Finn asked with a playful side-eye. “Maybe after we eat, you’ll finally let me offer my massage skills.”
Teddy was not about to say no to that.
They started the movie, and after they’d cleaned their plates and set them in the sink, Finn had him lie on his front on the sofa while he sat poised on the edge and began massaging his calves. Not the sexiest of body parts, but then, Finn had still had Teddy strip off his jeans.
“It helps prevent blood clots,” Finn said, ever the professional, even as he paused to laugh at the film.
Teddy was more interested in the movement of Finn’s hands than what they were watching. Even Smudge and Nora had settled down, and he simply wanted to enjoy this.
“Then there’s potential scar tissue to loosen up or areas of overcontraction. Like hamstrings.” Finn massaged up the back of Teddy’s legs. “Quads.” He moved to the front, slipping between Teddy’s thighs and the cushion. “Really anywhere that might be hyper-toned to protect you while healing.” Then, careful around the incision site from surgery, he moved back around to massage Teddy’s glutes.
“Hyper-toned, is it?” Teddy sighed into the feeling of Finn’s hands on his ass.
“Feels like it to me.”
Maybe he wasn’t being too professional right now.
Finn worked back down Teddy’s hamstrings, down his calves and up again, around once more to the quads so Teddy had to raise his hips to give him better access, and then slid one hand around his inner thigh and up between his legs.
Teddy was already hard, had been for about five minutes, but it wasn’t as if Finn wasn’t finding exactly what he was looking for.
“Feel like turning over?” Finn whispered.
Mourning the loss of Finn’s fingers as soon as they retracted, Teddy shifted swiftly to lie on his back. “Taking advantage of your patient, Doc?” he teased when Finn reached again to palm him through his underwear, tracing down his length.
“Just checking all pertinent areas for injury,” Finn teased back, lifting Teddy’s bandaged thumb with his other hand. “Like this. You poor thing. Pretty clumsy for someone so graceful.”
“Asshole.”
“Now, now, I thought we agreed the asshole was you.”
Teddy could only half chuckle, breath catching and speeding up as Finn squeezed and started to stroke him more rhythmically. Teddy’s thumb he handled with gentler care.
“Mmm, maybe I should check the other one, just to be sure you haven’t hurt that one too.” He set Teddy’s hand down and took up the other, bringing the wound-free thumb to his lips and sucking it into his mouth.
Teddy moaned, hips starting to arch into Finn’s touch with his muscles tightening.
Which caused him to hiss at a spike of pain, not as bad as a few weeks ago, but still aggravating.
“I got you,” Finn said quietly, the movie mostly forgotten now. “You just need to relax. Who better to know ways around your injury than your physical therapist?” His grin was devious as he licked around Teddy’s thumb and then moved to suck down the next finger, eventually releasing it with a lewd pop. “I have some ideas. We don’t have to rush. How about tonight, I make this really easy on you?”
Setting Teddy’s hand down again, Finn paused his strokes to reach for the waistband of Teddy’s shorts. Teddy lifted to accommodate, happy to allow Finn to slide them down his legs. Finn pushed up his shirt a little, too, stirring that unfair voice of insecurity in Teddy’s mind to remind him of the pudge there, not terrible, but not the flat expanse of muscle he used to have.
He instinctively sucked in his stomach at Finn’s touch but felt silly when Finn fluttered his fingers with an expression of undiluted want, not seeming to see anything he didn’t like. His other hand curled around Teddy’s base, lips parting at his descent to suck Teddy down like he’d done to his finger.
