11. Moose
Chapter eleven
Moose
I stared at my phone, the bright screen illuminating my face in the dimness of my apartment.
Agent Speedster requests offline debrief with Agent Knitter. Urgent.
My thumbs hovered over the keypad, guilt gnawing at my insides like a hungry beast. How could I explain the tempest of emotions that had been keeping me distant? I took a deep breath and started typing.
I'm sorry, Finn. I've been in my head too much. Can we talk tonight? My place?
The response came quickly:
I'll be there at 7.
I asked for the rest of the day off from my supervisor. When I said it would be a "mental health day," she didn't hesitate to say yes. I raced home before she could change her mind.
As I stepped inside, I realized my apartment had turned into a reflection of my inner turmoil—clothes strewn across the floor, dishes piled in the sink, and a layer of dust on every surface. I hadn't realized how bad it had gotten.
With a deep breath, I set to work. I gathered the clothes, the scent of stale sweat hitting me as I shoved them into the washing machine. Each item felt like a weight, a reminder of the days I'd spent wallowing in my own insecurities.
In the kitchen, I tackled the dishes. The warm, soapy water turned grey as I scrubbed away at crusted food. I'd been eating nothing but takeout, the empty containers overflowing in the trash. As I washed, I couldn't help but think of Finn. He'd always teased me about my healthy eating habits. What would he think if he saw this?
The living room was next. I opened the curtains, wincing as sunlight flooded the room. Dust motes danced in the air, highlighting the neglect. I grabbed the vacuum, its loud whir drowning out my thoughts as I moved methodically across the floor.
As I worked, I found remnants of happier times—a ticket stub from a game Finn and I had attended, a coaster from our favorite bar, and a half-finished knitting project I'd abandoned weeks ago. Each item was a punch to the gut, a reminder of what I stood to lose.
I placed the mementos carefully on the coffee table, arranging them like a shrine to our relationship. Maybe they'd help me find the right words when Finn arrived.
The bathroom was the last frontier. I scrubbed at the mirror, my reflection becoming clearer as the grime disappeared. The face that stared back at me looked tired, worried. I hardly recognized myself.
Finally, exhausted and slightly out of breath, I stood in the center of my now-clean apartment. The space felt bigger, lighter. But as I looked around, I realized something was missing. The apartment was clean, yes, but it lacked warmth. It lacked Finn.
***
When the knock finally came, I nearly jumped out of my skin.
I opened the door to find Finn standing there, his curls tousled from the wind, cheeks flushed from the cold. The sight of him made my heart ache.
"Hey," he said, his voice soft.
"Hey," I echoed, stepping aside to let him in. "Thanks for coming."
I watched as Finn settled onto the couch, his body language tense. The space between us felt vast, charged with unspoken words. I took a deep breath, steeling myself.
"I'm sorry," I began, my voice rougher than I'd intended. "I know I've been... distant."
Finn's eyes met mine, a mix of hurt and concern swirling in their depths. "What's going on, Moose? One minute we're great, and the next you're barely answering my texts."
I ran a hand up and over my head, frustration bubbling up. "I know, I know. It's just... God, Finn, sometimes I look at you and I can't believe you're with me." That was part of it. Work was another ball of wax.
His brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"
"You're... you're you," I said, gesturing vaguely. "You're talented, driven. Everyone loves you. And I'm just... me."
"Just you?" Finn echoed, incredulity coloring his tone. "Moose, do you have any idea how amazing you are?"
I scoffed, looking away. "Yeah, right. The guy who gave up helping save the world to push papers in marketing."
"Hey." Finn's voice was sharp. He scooted closer, his knee brushing mine. "Look at me."
Reluctantly, I met his gaze.
"You're brilliant," he said firmly. "The way you see the game, the ideas you come up with... And don't even get me started on how kind you are, how funny. Moose, being with you... it's the best part of my day."
I felt a lump forming in my throat. "But what if I'm not enough? What if I mess this up?"
Finn's hand found mine, his fingers intertwining with my own. "You are enough. More than enough. And if you mess up? We'll figure it out. That's what partners do."
"Partners?" I echoed, a spark of hope igniting in my chest.
Finn nodded, a small smile playing at his lips. "Partners. The first person I look for off the ice."
I leaned forward, resting my head against his shoulder. "I'm sorry I pushed you away. I got scared."
"I get it," Finn murmured. "But next time? Talk to me. We're stronger when we communicate, remember?"
I nodded, feeling some of the weight lift from my shoulders. "Yeah, two heads better than one kind of thing," I agreed.
Finn's hand came up to cup my cheek. "I missed you," he whispered.
"I missed you too," I breathed, before closing the distance between us.
Our lips met, and it felt like coming home. All the fear, all the doubt, melted away in the warmth of Finn's embrace.
The kiss broke something inside me. I surged forward, capturing his lips with mine. Finn responded immediately, his hands coming up to cup my face. We fell back onto the couch, a tangle of limbs and heated breaths.
Our kiss deepened, weeks of pent-up emotion pouring out. Finn's hands tangled in my hair, pulling me closer.
"I've missed this," I murmured against his lips. "Missed you."
Finn responded by trailing kisses along my jaw, down to the sensitive spot just below my ear. A shiver ran through me.
"Bed?" he whispered, his breath hot on my skin.
I nodded, suddenly unable to form words. We stumbled towards the bedroom, unwilling to break contact. The back of Finn's knees hit the mattress, and he tumbled onto the bed.
I ran my fingers down my back and pulled him closer. I wanted to make him feel better than good. I wanted it to be amazing.
It only took a few minutes to unfasten Finn's jeans, tug them down and then mouth the outline of his cock over the fabric of his briefs. "Oh, fuck," he muttered as I aimed to deliver as much pleasure as possible.
His breath caught in his throat. My fingers tugged on the waistband of his briefs and pulled them down to let his cock spring free. It was thick and veiny, like his forearms.
“Moose,” Finn gasped. “Damn, I'm so hard for you.”
I looked into his eyes. My desire for him was off the charts.
Finn's body was perfect. I didn't care what anybody said about his height. He had well-defined muscles, but they were lithe and a little wiry. That gave him his speed.
My mouth watered when I lowered my face close to his hard cock. I wanted to make him feel fucking amazing.
I traced my tongue along the underside of his cock, from the base to the tip, before I took the mushroom-shaped head into my mouth. Finn's entire body tensed—the veins standing out on his forearms—as I swallowed him into the back of my mouth.
“Moose, please—” he pleaded. His mind was already starting to drift up into the clouds while I started to suck—bobbing my face forward and back.
Having Finn in my mouth was a phenomenal experience. I didn't want it to ever end. I gripped one of his thighs and started to stroke the base of his cock with the other hand.
“Oh, fuck,” he groaned. He arched his back, pushing his muscular chest up and forward. I couldn't resist reaching up and gripping a nipple, teasing and lightly tugging.
As I continued to suck and pump Finn's cock, I began to flick his head with my tongue. He gasped for breath and wiggled.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” he gasped.
I couldn't speak with a mouthful of Finn, but I would have said the same thing.
It didn’t take much longer for him to reach the edge. He was ready to explode. “Moose—oh, fuck—I’m gonna come. I’m so—close.”
I couldn't wait to see Finn's entire body wracked by a convulsive orgasm. I wanted to feel him erupt in my mouth.
A few seconds after my fingers began to stroke faster, he jerked, and his head rolled back. Two more waves of involuntary muscle contractions swept through his body before I felt his milky cum on my tongue.
“Oh, fuck—damn—Moose!” Finn yelled.
I sucked hard. I didn’t want to miss a single drop. After swallowing, I pulled myself onto the bed at Finn's side and shared a feverish kiss
Minutes later, we lay tangled in the sheets, our breathing slowly returning to normal. Finn's head rested on my chest, and I ran my fingers through his sweat-dampened curls.
"That was..." Finn trailed off, seemingly at a loss for words.
"Yeah," I agreed, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.
We fell into a comfortable silence, the gentle hum of the furnace the only sound in the room. As I held Finn close, I felt the last of my doubts melting away. This—us—it was right. And I was done letting my fears get in the way.
"I love you," I whispered into the quiet room.
Finn propped himself up on an elbow, his eyes shining in the dim light. "I love you too, Moose. So much."
Later, as we lay entwined in my bed, sheets twisted around us, I traced patterns on Finn's skin. The streetlights outside cast a soft glow through the curtains, painting his face in shadows and light.
"I want to do something special for Valentine's Day," I murmured. "Nothing big, just... us."
Finn smiled, his eyes half-closed with contentment. "That sounds perfect."
I woke up early the next morning, my mind already buzzing with ideas for Valentine's Day. Finn's warmth beside me was a reminder of what I had to lose, and what I was fighting for. I carefully extricated myself from his embrace, padding quietly to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.
As the rich aroma filled the air, I pulled out a notepad and started jotting down ideas. I wanted this to be fun, but not over-the-top. Something that screamed "us" without being cliché.
First on the list: food. Finn had once mentioned a small Italian place back in Minnesota that made the best chicken parmesan he'd ever tasted. I couldn't recreate that exactly, but I could try my hand at making it from scratch. I scribbled down a grocery list, making a mental note to stop by the specialty Italian market across town.
Decorations were next. I didn't want to go full Hallmark explosion, but a few touches here and there would set the mood. I remembered the string of fairy lights stuffed in the back of my closet that I used to decorate my form room. Those could work. And maybe some candles? Not rose-scented though—Finn always wrinkled his nose at overly floral smells.
As I sipped my coffee, an idea struck me. Finn always complained about how cold the rink was during practice. What if I knitted him a scarf in Lumberjacks colors? It would be personal, practical, and a way to show him I'd been thinking about him even during our rough patch.
I dug out my knitting needles and yarn, running my fingers over the soft wool. It had been weeks since I'd touched them, but the familiar motions came back easily. I cast on, the quiet click-clack of the needles soothing my lingering nerves.
Music. We needed music. I opened my laptop and started curating a playlist. No cheesy love songs allowed. Finn would roll his eyes so hard they'd get stuck. Instead, I chose a mix of indie rock and acoustic covers, songs that reminded me of lazy Sunday mornings and long drives with the windows down.
As I worked, I realized I was smiling. For the first time in weeks, I felt hopeful. Excited, even. This Valentine's Day wasn't just about romance; it was a new beginning for us.
I heard Finn stirring in the bedroom and quickly hid the scarf-in-progress. As he shuffled into the kitchen, hair adorably mussed from sleep, I felt a surge of affection.
"Morning," he mumbled, making a beeline for the coffee pot.
"Morning," I replied, unable to keep the grin off my face. "Sleep well?"
Finn nodded, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Better than I have in weeks."
As we settled into our usual morning routine, I felt a sense of rightness wash over me. This—us—it was worth fighting for. And come Valentine's Day, I was going to make sure Finn knew just how much he meant to me.
***
Valentine's morning dawned crisp and clear. I woke early, my stomach a knot of nerves. I busied myself with last-minute preparations, hanging fairy lights around the living room and making sure I had all the ingredients for dinner.
The clock ticked closer to seven, and I found myself obsessively adjusting the lights draped around the living room. The soft glow they cast felt intimate, transforming my usually stark apartment into something almost magical. Candles flickered on the coffee table, their vanilla scent mingling with the aroma of herbs and roasting chicken wafting from the kitchen.
A knock at the door sent my heart racing. I smoothed down my shirt—a deep blue button-down that Finn once said brought out my eyes—and took a deep breath before opening the door.
Finn stood there, a vision in a charcoal sweater that hugged his athletic frame. His curls were slightly tamed, and he held a bottle of wine in one hand, a small gift bag in the other.
"Hey," he said, his eyes widening as he took in the transformed apartment. "Wow, Moose. This is... incredible."
I felt a flush of pride mixed with a twinge of anxiety. "Come in," I said, stepping aside. "I hope it's not too much."
Finn shook his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. "It's perfect."
As he moved past me, I caught a whiff of his cologne—the same one from our first real date. The familiarity of it eased some of my nervousness.
"Something smells amazing," Finn said, sniffing the air appreciatively.
I grinned, leading him to the kitchen. "Chicken parmesan. I remembered you mentioning that place back home..."
Finn's eyes lit up. "You didn't! God, I haven't had good chicken parm since I left Minnesota."
We fell into an easy rhythm, Finn insisting on helping me finish up dinner preparations. Our hands brushed as we worked, each touch sending little sparks through me. The tension from the past weeks seemed to melt away, replaced by a comfortable warmth.
Over dinner, we talked and laughed, the conversation flowing as easily as the wine Finn had brought. I found myself mesmerized by the way the candlelight danced in his eyes, highlighting the flecks of gold in the warm brown.
"I have something for you," I said as we finished eating, suddenly feeling nervous again.
I retrieved the carefully wrapped package from behind the couch, handing it to Finn with slightly trembling hands.
He unwrapped it carefully, his eyes widening as he pulled out the scarf. "Moose," he breathed, running his fingers over the soft wool. "You made this?"
I nodded, watching his face anxiously. "I know you're always cold at the rink, and I thought... well, I wanted you to have something to keep you warm when I can't."
Finn's eyes met mine, and the emotion I saw there took my breath away. Without a word, he leaned across the table and kissed me, soft and sweet.
"It's perfect," he murmured against my lips. "Thank you."
We moved to the couch, Finn insisting I open his gift. Inside the bag was a framed photo, a candid shot of us at a team event, heads bent close together, both of us laughing at some shared joke. I hadn't even realized someone had taken the picture.
"Quinn snapped it," Finn explained. "I just... I love how happy we look. How real."
I traced the edge of the frame, overcome with emotion. "I love it," I said softly. "And I love you."
The words slipped out before I could overthink them, hanging in the air between us. Finn's smile was radiant as he pulled me close.
"I love you too," he whispered.
We spent the rest of the evening curled up together, reminiscing about our early days and dreaming about the future. As the candles burned low and the playlist I'd made looped for the third time, I found myself marveling at how right this felt.
The evening had been everything I'd hoped for. Finn's happiness was evident in every smile, every touch. But as I held him close, I couldn't shake the fear that someday, somehow, I would mess this up. That I wasn't worthy of this kind of love.
I pressed a kiss to the top of Finn's head, breathing in the scent of his shampoo. "I love you," I whispered, too quietly for him to hear. The words felt like both a promise and a prayer.
As I drifted off to sleep, I clung to the warmth of the moment, trying to silence the doubts that lurked in the corners of my mind. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges, but for now, I had this. I had Finn. And I would do everything in my power to hold onto this happiness, for as long as I could.