They continued to make out, the room filling with soft sighs and gentle laughter. It was a moment of pure connection, unhurried and intimate, as they explored each other’s touches and tastes. Eventually, they pulled back, foreheads touching, breaths mingling.
A flush crept up Finn’s neck, and Ollie was fascinated by the way it spread across his chest. He traced it with his fingertips, delighting in Finn’s sharp intake of breath.
“I didn’t want to fall asleep,” Finn admitted, his voice dropping to something more vulnerable. “Just in case this was a dream.”
The simple confession made Ollie’s heart stutter. “Not a dream,” he assured him, leaning in to brush his lips against Finn’s. “Though I did pinch myself once or twice last night, just to be sure.”
Finn’s hand came up to cradle Ollie’s face, thumb brushing across his cheekbone with a tenderness that made Ollie’s chest ache. “I’ve spent years putting everyone else first,” he said quietly. “Brooklyn, helping Keaton, what everyone expected of me.” His eyes searched Ollie’s, a vulnerability in his gaze. “But with you, I get to be selfish.”
“And how does that feel?” Ollie prompted, holding his breath.
“Like coming home,” Finn said simply. “To a place I didn’t know I was missing.”
Ollie smiled, relief washing through him. “I know the feeling.”
They lay there for a while, trading lazy kisses and soft touches, the world beyond Finn’s bedroom momentarily forgotten. Ollie couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this content, this present in his own skin.
“I should probably make coffee,” Finn said eventually, though he made no move to get up. “Fair warning—I’m useless without caffeine.”
“Noted,” Ollie said, pressing one last kiss to Finn’s lips before reluctantly pulling away. “Though I think I’ve seen evidence to the contrary.”
“That’s because I know better than to leave the house without at least two cups.” Finn’s laugh followed him as he searched for his discarded clothes, finding his jeans and borrowing one of Finn’s T-shirts. It hung loose on his frame, but there was something undeniably satisfying about wearing Finn’s clothes.
In the kitchen, they moved around each other with surprising ease, as if they’d done this a hundred times before. Ollie found mugs while Finn measured coffee grounds. Their hands brushedas they reached for the same drawer, and Ollie felt a ridiculous flutter in his stomach at the simple contact.
“So,” Finn said, leaning against the counter as the coffee brewed, “what happens now?”
The question hung between them, deceptively casual but weighted with possibility. Ollie adjusted his glasses, buying time to gather his thoughts.
“Well, I was thinking pancakes would be a good start,” he said lightly. “And then maybe we see where the day takes us?”
Finn smiled, but his eyes remained serious. “I meant with us. This. Whatever we’re doing.”
Ollie took a deep breath. “I know what you meant. And the honest answer is, I don’t know exactly. But I want to find out.” He stepped closer to Finn. “I like you, Finn. A lot. And last night was incredible. But I also know you have Brooklyn to think about, and I have the bookstore, and we both have our own baggage. So maybe we just take it one day at a time? See where it goes?”
Finn’s hands settled on Ollie’s hips, warm and steadying. “I’d like that. The seeing where it goes part.” His thumbs traced small circles against Ollie’s hipbones. “I’m not great at this, you know. The dating thing. I haven’t seriously dated anyone since Holly.”
“It’s been a few years for me too,” Ollie admitted. “And I don’t exactly have a successful track record when it comes to relationships. But I think that’s okay. We can figure it out together.”
The coffee maker beeped, breaking the moment. Finn pressed a quick kiss to Ollie’s forehead before turning to pour them each a mug. The simple domesticity of it made Ollie’s chest tight with longing.
Finn made toast, and they talked about nothing and everything—the bookstore’s upcoming events, how Keaton was trying to transition Finn to working on-site more, a book Ollie had been reading. It was easy, comfortable in a way that should have been surprising but somehow wasn’t.
“I should probably check in with Jules,” Ollie said eventually, glancing at his phone. “They’ll be wondering where I disappeared to.”
Finn’s smile turned slightly wicked. “Tell them you were thoroughly debauched by a single dad with passable cooking skills.”
Ollie laughed, delighted by this playful side of Finn. “I think I’ll spare them the details, but they’ll figure it out. Jules has a sixth sense for these things.”
“Brooklyn won’t be back until this afternoon,” Finn said, his hand finding Ollie’s across the table. “If you want to stay a while longer.”
The invitation sent warmth curling through Ollie’s stomach. “I’d like that.”
Before Finn could respond, they heard the sound of a key in the front door. They both froze, eyes meeting in shared panic.
“Dad?” Brooklyn’s voice called from the entryway. “You up?”
Finn’s expression shifted from surprise to resignation. “In the kitchen,” he called back, giving Ollie’s hand a reassuring squeeze before letting go.
