“Send me updates,” Mr. Santos said, pointing at them like a stern uncle. “Both of you.”
“We will,” Maurice promised.
They met up with David and Theo outside, and the four of them piled into an Uber headed toward the hotel. As soon as the car pulled away from the curb, the city unfolded around them in that unmistakable San Francisco way with a little chaotic, and weirdly beautiful.
The hills rose in the distance, stacked with rows of Victorian houses painted in colors that looked like they’d been chosen by someone who refused to be boring. The afternoon light hit the bay windows just right, turning them into gold-edged mirrors. Finn pressed his face to the window like a kid on his first field trip, and Maurice felt something warm settle in his chest.
The fog hung low over the water, not quite rolling in, not quite leaving, just hovering like it was eavesdropping on the city. The smell of the bay drifted through the cracked window: salt, seaweed, and that faint metallic tang that always reminded Maurice of the docks. A cable car bell clanged somewhere up the hill, followed by the rumble of its tracks, a sound so specific to this place it felt like a signature.
Maurice hadn’t realized how much he’d missed this city until he saw it through Finn’s eyes. Back when he visited with his family, he’d been too busy feeling out of place to appreciate anything. Now, sitting beside Finn, he caught himself imagining what it would be like to bring him here again—not for a trip, butfor something more permanent. Lazy weekends. Morning walks to the bakery with the sourdough smell that hit you from half a block away. Finn learning the rhythm of the cable cars. Them figuring out which neighborhood felt like theirs.
He didn’t say any of that out loud. But the thought lingered, warm and steady.
Finn turned to him, eyes bright. “This place is amazing.”
Maurice smiled, unable to help it. “Yeah,” he said, watching the fog, the hills, the light catching on Finn’s cheek. “It really is.”
And for the first time in a long time, he let himself picture a future that didn’t feel impossible.
“Feels weird being off the train,” Finn said.
“Feels good.” Maurice rested a hand on Finn’s knee. “Feels like the start of something.”
Finn’s smile reached Maurice, sending a warm sensation deep into his chest.
At the hotel, they checked into their suites, side by side, just as he and David had planned. Close enough to talk, separate enough to give them space.
Finn followed Maurice into the suite, letting the door click shut behind them. The room smelled faintly of lemon polish and ocean air, sunlight spilling across the carpet in long, warm stripes. It was nicer than he expected with enormous windows, a view of the bay, and a bed that looked like it could swallow a person whole.
He set his bag down and took a slow breath, letting the quiet settle.
Finn wandered toward the window, pushing the curtain aside. “Wow,” he murmured, the city stretching out below them in glittering blues and golds.
Maurice watched him first then the view. Something about the way Finn stood there, so relaxed and open, like he belonged in the light.
“Nice, huh?” Maurice said, stepping up beside him. Their shoulders brushed, just barely.
Finn nodded, still looking out. “Yeah. Feels… different being here with you.”
That hit deeper than it should have.
To break the tension before it swallowed him whole, Maurice clapped his hands once. “Alright. Very important test.” He walked over to the bed, dropped onto it dramatically, and bounced once. Then twice. The mattress responded like a trampoline disguised as luxury.
Finn laughed with delight in his expression. “Are you serious?”
“Absolutely,” Maurice said, bouncing again. “I need to know if this thing is going to betray my spine in the middle of the night.”
Maurice sprawled out like a starfish across the hotel bed, arms wide, legs everywhere, the mattress practically hugging him back.
Finn crossed his arms, pretending to judge him. “And? What’s the verdict?”
“I could die here. Happily,” he announced to the ceiling.
Finn stood at the edge of the bed, hands on his hips. “With me?”
Maurice cracked one eye open. “Of course with you.”
Finn didn’t hesitate—he launched himself onto the bed with a dramatic flop, bouncing the mattress and rolling straight into Maurice’s arms like he’d rehearsed it. Maurice let out an oof and wrapped an arm around him automatically, laughing as Finn’s weight settled against him.
