Chapter Twenty-Four
Finn
Finn and Maurice walked into the Lounge Car wearing their matching black shirts—Maurice’s idea, but Finn secretly loved it.
The room was dim and warm, string lights draped across the ceiling, the rainbow-striped train swaying gently beneath their feet.
Music drifted through the space, something slow and soft, and people were already pairing off on the dance floor.
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.”
Finn let out the breath he’d been holding in, waiting on Caleb’s reaction. Maurice touched his back gently.
“You okay?” Maurice asked.
Finn nodded. “Yeah. Thanks for… you know. Being there.”
Maurice’s hand slid down Finn’s back, warm and reassuring. “Always.”
Finn’s chest loosened again. “Let’s get that drink.”
Maurice smiled. “And then another dance?”
Finn grinned. “Only with you.” Then he said, “Caleb is rooming with his ex-boyfriend.”
“Yes, Billy is his ex.”
“Really?”
“Billy told me he was very possessive and he doesn’t want to be with him.”
“But they bunk together.”
“I know. Makes no sense.”
They finished their walk to the bar, shoulders brushing, matching shirts catching the soft light, like two people choosing each other in a room full of strangers.
After their drinks, another slow song drifted through the Lounge Car—soft, warm, the kind that made the whole room sway. Maurice held out his hand without saying a word, and Finn took it instantly.
They stepped back onto the dance floor, closer this time, Finn’s hands resting lightly on Maurice’s shoulders while Maurice’s settled at Finn’s waist. The matching black shirts made them look like they belonged together, and Finn couldn’t stop smiling about it.
Maurice leaned in, voice low. “Still doing okay?”
Finn nodded. “Better now.”
They moved slowly, the train rocking gently beneath them, the lights dim and golden. Finn rested his forehead against Maurice’s cheek, breathing him in—clean cologne, warm skin, something steady that made Finn’s chest loosen.
For a few minutes, nothing existed except the music and the way Maurice held him like he mattered. When the song ended, they headed toward the bar again, still close, still wrapped up in their own little bubble.
But Caleb wasn’t done.
Caleb stepped right in front of them again, blocking their path. His smile was sharp this time, not friendly at all.
“Oh look,” Caleb said loudly, “the matching couple is back.”
Finn stiffened. Maurice didn’t react, at least not outwardly. He just waited, giving Finn space again.
Caleb pointed at Finn. “You owe me a dance. Don’t think you can hide behind him all night.”
Finn shook his head. “Caleb, I said no.”
Caleb scoffed. “You’re really going to waste your whole night on him?”
Maurice’s jaw tightened, but he still didn’t speak.
Finn tried again. “Please stop. I’m not dancing with you.”
Caleb stepped closer, ignoring the words completely. “Come on, Finn. Don’t be boring.”
Maurice finally stepped forward, voice calm but firm. “He said no. Back off.”
Caleb rolled his eyes. “You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Maurice didn’t raise his voice. “I’m telling you to respect him.”
Caleb opened his mouth to snap back, but that’s when Mr. Santos appeared, moving fast and looking absolutely done with the situation.
“Enough,” Mr. Santos said sharply. “All three of you. Stop.”
Caleb threw his hands up. “He started—”
“I don’t care who started it,” Mr. Santos cut in. “Caleb, Maurice—go to your rooms. Now.”
Maurice looked at Finn immediately, checking him over with his eyes.
“I need to speak to Finn alone,” Mr. Santos said.
“Are you okay with that?” Maurice asked.
Finn nodded. “Yeah. Go. I’ll be fine and meet you after he talks to me.”
Maurice hesitated, clearly not loving it, but he squeezed Finn’s hand once before stepping back. “I’ll be in my room,” he said. “Come find me when you’re done.”
Finn nodded again, and Maurice left with one last look over his shoulder.
Caleb stomped off in the opposite direction, muttering under his breath.
Mr. Santos turned to Finn. “Walk with me.”
They stepped into the quieter hallway outside the Lounge Car. Finn braced himself—he knew that tone.
“Finn,” Mr. Santos began, “you are here to mingle. To meet people. Not to attach yourself to one man and ignore the rest of the program.”
Finn crossed his arms. “I’m not ignoring anything. I’m serious about Maurice.”
Mr. Santos sighed. “You’ve known him for a few days.”
“I’m going to move into his room,” Finn said, maybe a little too defensively. “We’re serious.”
Mr. Santos pinched the bridge of his nose. “Finn, that is exactly what I’m talking about. You’re supposed to explore your options, not move in with the first man who smiles at you.”
Finn’s jaw tightened. “He’s not the first man. And he’s not just some guy. I know what I’m doing.”
Mr. Santos gave him a long, assessing look. “Do you?”
“Yes,” Finn said. “I do.”
Mr. Santos exhaled slowly. “Fine. But you still broke a rule.”
Finn blinked. “What rule?”
“When you change rooms,” Mr. Santos said, “you are required to notify me. It’s in the pamphlet. Page three.”
Finn groaned. “I didn’t think—”
“Exactly,” Mr. Santos said. “You didn’t think or read the pamphlet. And now we have drama in the Lounge Car.”
Finn looked down at his shoes. “I’m sorry.”
Mr. Santos softened just a little. “I know you are. But you need to be more careful. And more considerate of the structure we’ve put in place.”
Finn nodded. “Okay.”
“Good,” Mr. Santos said. “Now go to your new room.”
Finn turned to leave, but Mr. Santos added, “And, Finn?”
Finn looked back.
“Be sure this is what you want.”
Finn didn’t hesitate. “It is.”
Mr. Santos nodded once, resigned. “Then go.”
Finn walked down the hallway toward their now shared room, still hearing Mr. Santos’s lecture echoing in his head. By the time he reached the door, he felt wrung out—tired, embarrassed, and a little shaky.
He opened the door quietly. Maurice was sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, hands clasped like he’d been waiting the whole time. The moment he saw Finn, he stood.
“You okay?” Maurice asked.
Finn nodded, even though he wasn’t totally sure. “Yeah. Just… a lot.”
Maurice stepped closer, brushing his fingers along Finn’s arm before pulling him into a gentle hug. Finn melted into it, letting his forehead rest against Maurice’s shoulder. Maurice’s hand slid up and down his back in slow, calming strokes.
“I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Maurice murmured.
“It’s not your fault,” Finn said into his shirt. “Caleb’s just… Caleb.”
Maurice pulled back enough to look at him. “Still. I didn’t like leaving you alone.”
Finn managed to smile. “I know. But I told you I was okay.”
Maurice cupped Finn’s cheek with one hand, thumb brushing lightly along his skin. “I worry anyway.”
That did something warm and complicated in Finn’s chest.
He sat down on the bed, and Maurice sat beside him, their knees touching. Finn took a breath.
“I care about you,” Finn said quietly. “A lot. And I’m scared.”
Maurice’s brows pulled together. “Scared of what?”
Finn looked down at their hands. “That this ends when the trip ends. That we go back to our lives and… that’s it. You’re in Virginia. I’m in Boston. It’s not exactly a quick drive.”
Maurice didn’t speak right away. He reached over and took Finn’s hand, lacing their fingers together.
“Finn,” he said gently, “we’re not ending anything when this trip ends.”
Finn looked up, searching his face.
“We’re going to spend time together in San Francisco,” Maurice continued. “Real time. Not rushed. Not in a hallway or a train car. Just us.”
Finn’s chest loosened a little.
“And after that,” Maurice said, “if you can take some more time off, we can fly to Virginia together and you can stay with me.”
Finn blinked. “Really?”
“Really,” Maurice said. “I want you there. I want to show you my home. The trails. The lake. The city. Everything.”
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.