Finn swallowed. “And if I like it?”
Maurice squeezed his hand. “If you like it… then we’ll figure out the rest. I’ll help you move. I’ll help you find a job. Whatever you need. We’ll make it work.”
Finn stared at him, stunned by how easily Maurice said it—like it wasn’t a big deal, like it wasn’t a life-changing offer.
“You’d do all that?” Finn asked quietly.
Maurice nodded. “For you? Yeah.”
Finn’s throat tightened. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Maurice’s. “I don’t want to lose this.”
“You won’t,” Maurice said, voice low and certain. “Not if you want it.”
Finn closed his eyes, letting the words settle deep. He didn’t know what the future looked like yet, but sitting there with Maurice—warm, steady, close—he believed it could be something real.
Something worth fighting for.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Maurice
The train had settledinto its nighttime rhythm, a steady hum under everything and the occasional far-off whistle slicing through. Maurice turned off the overhead light, leaving the small lamp by the bed glowing. Finn lay beside him, close enough that their shoulders touched. They stretched out on the narrow mattress as if they were learning how to share space in a new and strange way.
As Finn shifted onto his side, that sleepy closeness settled between them like a blanket. “I like us together at night.” Finn’s hand slid across the blanket until it found Maurice’s. Their fingers intertwined easily, as if they’d been doing it for years. “You make me feel… wanted.”
Maurice’s chest tightened in a warm, steady way. “You are wanted. By me.”
Finn scooted until their knees touched. “I want you. More than I expected to.”
Maurice lifted Finn’s hand and pressed a small kiss to his knuckles—slow, deliberate, nothing rushed. “Good,” he said. “Because I need you with me.”
They lay there for a moment, breathing in sync, the dim cabin lights flickering as the train slipped through patches of darkness. Finn’s thumb brushed over Maurice’s hand, hesitant but curious.
Then Finn asked, “If I… if you were—my Daddy boyfriend—what kind of rules would you have?”
Maurice was surprised but not thrown. “Rules?”
Finn nodded. “Yeah. Like… what would you expect from me? What would our relationship look like?”
Maurice took a second to settle his thoughts, watching the way Finn’s eyes widened. He didn’t want this to feel like a lecture or a contract; he just wanted to lay a foundation. He kept his touch light, relieved when Finn didn’t pull away.
“Look,” Maurice said. “I’ve only got five basic things I care about for us. The house stuff? We can figure that out as we go.”
He held up one finger, catching Finn’s gaze. He wasn’t trying to be a cop; he just couldn’t stand the idea of something reckless taking Finn away from him. “First off, I need you to stay away from the messy stuff—no illegal trouble, no substances that’ll wreck you. I just want us both healthy and, more importantly, safe.”
A second finger joined the first. Maurice shifted, thinking of how many people forgot the basics when life got heavy. “Second, I want you to actually be healthy. You don’t have to be perfect about it, but I need to know you’re taking care of yourself and keeping your strength up.”
He added a third finger to the count. This was the big one—the glue. “Third, let’s keep it real with each other. Just tell me the truth, even when it’s ugly or hurts to say. I can handle the truth, Finn.”
The fourth finger went up. He wanted something solid, something they could lean on when the world got shaky. “Fourth, just be faithful to what we’re doing here. To us. Let’s protect what we’re building.”
Finally, he held up his hand, all five fingers out, offering a small, encouraging smile. “And fifth—never hide what you’re feeling or what you need from me. Whether it’s a sandwich or a shoulder, just say it. I can’t look out for you the way I want to if I’m guessing in the dark.”
Finn swallowed, eyes shining in the dim light. “That’s… not what I expected.”
Maurice brushed his thumb along Finn’s cheek. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know,” Finn paused. “Something stricter. Something that might make me feel small.”
