Maurice shook his head. “No. I don’t want you small. I want you safe. I want you to be happy. And most of all, I want you with me.”
“What happens if I break a rule?”
“We’ll make a chart at home with the house rules and consequences.”
“You’re going to let me help you write the rules and consequences?” Finn raised his eyebrows.
The question was personal, as if Finn were handing him something fragile and waiting to see how gently he’d hold it.
“This is our relationship, not just mine. I can always take more control if that’s what you want.”
The light in the train car slid over Finn’s face, catching the uncertainty in his eyes. Outside the window, streaks of passing lights slid across the walls. “Do you want me to take more control?”
Finn hesitated at first before he answered. “I don’t know.”
“Finn, rule five is for you to tell me what you need or want. Don’t be shy. Please.”
Finn looked down as if he were embarrassed. “I want you to take more control.”
Maurice let his eyes linger, checking that Finn wasn’t just saying what Maurice wanted to hear. Then he nodded, and something unspoken passed between them in the small, shared space. Finn rested his head on Maurice’s chest.
Maurice thought for a minute, then he said, “We’ll begin our relationship on the train.”
Finn smiled. “If I move in, it would be a gigantic step.”
“When and if you decide to move in, I’ll protect you and make sure you’re okay.”
“Okay?”
“So, you have the option to work if you wish, or you can go back to school if that’s your preference. I’ll be able to provide for all your needs.”
Finn’s eyes filled, and Maurice kept speaking. “If you ever change your mind and want to move out, I’ll make sure you’re never left without a home or money. You won’t be trapped. Ever.”
Finn’s first tear slipped down his cheek.
Maurice wiped it away with his thumb. “Hey. What’s wrong?”
Finn shook his head, voice breaking. “No one’s ever said anything like that to me.”
Maurice pulled him closer, stroking Finn’s hair against his chest. “Then let me be the first.” He kissed Finn on the top of his head.
“You seem too good to be true.”
“I’ll write a contract, so you don’t have to worry if you want to leave.”
“I’m not your client. I don’t need a damn contract.” Finn raised his voice.
“I’m sorry, Finn. I didn’t mean to sound like a lawyer. I just want you to feel safe when you make choices.”
Finn curled into him, quiet tears soaking into Maurice’s shirt, and Maurice held him through all of it—steady, warm, patient—until Finn’s breathing evened out again.
“You’re safe with me,” Maurice whispered into his hair. “Always.”
Finn didn’t answer with words. He just held on tighter and fell asleep against him the way someone does when they’re finally safe enough to let go. One minute he was blinking up at Maurice with damp lashes, the next his breathing had settled into a rhythm. Maurice stayed still, one hand resting on Finn’s back, thumb brushing small circles without thinking.
The little train room was dim and quiet, the lamp casting a warm glow over Finn’s face. His cheek was pressed against Maurice’s chest, lips parted slightly, hair mussed from crying and comfort.
Maurice’s phone buzzed. He held his gaze, giving himself a second to confirm Finn was sleeping. He didn’t want to move or break the peace, but he also knew Finn slept deeply once he was out, and Maurice needed a minute to breathe, to think, to talk to someone who wasn’t curled up on his chest.
