Maurice leaned in close. “Ready?”
Finn nodded, even though his stomach fluttered. “Yeah. With you.”
Maurice smiled at that—small, warm, the kind that made Finn’s chest go loose—and took his hand. They stepped onto the dance floor, and Maurice pulled him in gently, one hand at Finn’s waist, the other holding Finn’s hand like it belonged there.
Finn relaxed into him, letting Maurice guide the sway of their bodies. The world narrowed to the rhythm, the warmth of Maurice’s chest, the soft brush of his breath near Finn’s temple. Finn rested his head lightly against Maurice’s shoulder, and Maurice tightened his arm around him in a way that made Finn’s whole body settle.
“You’re a good dancer,” Finn murmured.
Maurice chuckled. “You make it easy.”
They stayed like that through the whole song, moving slow, close, and comfortable. When the music shifted to something faster, Maurice leaned back just enough to look at him.
“Drink?” he asked.
“Yeah,” Finn said. “I could use one.”
They walked toward the bar, still close enough that their arms brushed. Finn felt good—light, steady, like the matching shirts really did make him feel claimed in the best way.
But before they reached the bar, someone stepped directly into their path.
Caleb.
Of course.
He looked Finn up and down, ignoring Maurice completely. “There you are,” Caleb said, smiling like he owned the room. “I’ve been looking for you. Come dance with me.”
Finn stiffened. “No thanks.”
Caleb waved a hand. “Oh, come on. One dance. You owe me after ditching me earlier.”
“I didn’t ditch you,” Finn said. “And I said no.”
Caleb stepped closer, too close, like he hadn’t heard a word. “Don’t be shy. I’ll make it worth your time.”
Maurice stayed quiet at first and Finn could feel him waiting, giving Finn space to speak for himself. Finn appreciated that more than he could say.
“I’m not interested,” Finn said firmly. “I’m with Maurice.”
Caleb scoffed. “Please. You two aren’t—”
Maurice stepped forward then, calm but unmistakably protective. “He said no.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t talking to you.”
Maurice’s voice stayed even, but there was steel under it. “You are now.”
Finn’s pulse jumped—not from fear, but from the way Maurice stood beside him, steady and unshakable.
Caleb crossed his arms. “You can’t just claim him.”
Maurice didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. “I didn’t claim him. He chose me. And he said no to you. Respect that.”
Caleb opened his mouth again, but Finn cut in. “Caleb, stop. I’m not dancing with you. I’m not interested. Please leave us alone.”
For a moment, Caleb looked like he might push it again. But something in Maurice’s expression—calm, firm, absolutely done—finally made him back off with a frustrated huff.
“Whatever,” Caleb muttered, turning away. “Your loss.”
