42. FORTY-TWO
FORTY-TWO
“I got this one when I went to the zoo,” Finn says excitedly while holding up a beaten up yellow t-shirt. The logo is almost unreadable, and it’s hard to imagine him wearing something so tight. “I think it’d be cute on y-you…”
All the stuff in his closet is so old. How much of this stuff did he get back when he was barely an adult? Every single positive memory he has is from childhood. That’s sad, it’s so sad.
Holding my tongue, I force a smile—at least until I see something haphazardly shoved into the pile of clothes he has in there. “What’s that?” I point, even though I already think I know what it is.
“N-Nothing,” he murmurs and tries to hide it. He knows he’s caught. The look on his face is more than telling, half shame and half sadness as he pulls it out and tosses it on the ground. “I… don’t be mad, please?”
My shirt. It’s my shirt. Not the one I let him borrow, one that was in my dresser. My bedroom, a space he hasn’t been in. So how did he get his hands on it? I didn’t give it to him, that’s for sure.
“Why do you, uh, have that?” The answer is obvious, but I ask anyway.
“I’m sorry.” No, he’s not. “I just… It smelled like you, and I-I wasn’t thinking, so I… I know it’s wrong, I’m sorry. I had a really g-good time that night, and I wanted to remember it…”
Frowning, I push myself closer to the end of his bed. “What did you do with it?”
Squirming like the world’s cutest worm, Finn's head tilts down in shame. His cheeks turn a soft red, and I really hate how much fun this all is. “...Please don’t make me say it.”
“Finn.”
“B-But you already know,” he whines while staring at me with the widest pair of eyes. “At least I t-think you do…”
“I’ve got an idea, yeah. But I wanna hear you say it.”
“D-Duncan…”
“Finn.”
Letting out a noise of discontentment, he joins me on the bed and hides his face in my chest. “I… I j-jerked off with it…” The highlight of the sentence is the way he whispers jerked, because he knows how fucking filthy that is. How wrong it all is.
Yet I love it. This creep took my shirt and did something awful to it but my dick is still getting hard at the mental image. “That’s just…” Just what? What the hell can I even say when I’m so obviously into it?
“I never thought you’d… like me, let alone l-love me. Having that made it feel… real. Like you were really here…” Finn lets out a shaky noise, as if he’s realizing how fucked up that logic actually is. “I just wanted you here. I-I’m not… Are you mad?”
Pulling him into a hug that’s far too warm for all we’ve been through, I sigh. “I’m not mad. I… I should be. But you’re not that person anymore.” He isn’t. He’s probably worse.
“Uh-huh! I wouldn’t do that again…” He pulls away from my chest, but he’s still got those sad wet eyes straight out of some kind of cat gif Haley would spam me with. “But having a piece of you all the time made me feel… better. Like when you’d ignore me, I’d cuddle with it, and—”
“I never ignored you.”
Finn blinks. “Yeah you did? You would go hours without replying.”
“I had a life, Finn.”
The expression on his face is hard to read, brow furrowed with a frown yet still somehow confused. “N-No? You spent all day at home in your bed.”
“Still—”
“If you didn’t want to talk to me, be honest about it.
” It’s scary how fast his voice drops and the scared little kitty act vanishes.
Both hands shoot out, gently pinning me down on the bed while he stares at me.
“I know I can be overbearing, sometimes. B-But don’t lie.
That’s not… not good. When we get married, we can’t have lies between us. ”
“Married?” Hiding the bewilderment I feel would be impossible. “I can’t even leave the house, Finn. How are we supposed to get married?”
Finn squeezes his eyes shut, before throwing himself forward to kiss me. The kisses are sloppy, but despite my best efforts I can’t even lift my wrists against his iron grip.
“I don’t,” one kiss, “want to”, another kiss, “argue.” A third and final kiss is planted against my lower lip, his hold on me easing up while he nuzzles his head against my chest.
It’s nothing short of overwhelming. The room feels stuffy, plus he’s so warm and heavy. My mind is cloudy with too many thoughts to do anything meaningful. Don’t like this. Don’t like thinking so hard about shit I can’t control.
“Y-Yeah, okay.” Arguing isn’t worth the fuss, it only leads to hurt feelings that I can’t afford to hurt any further. “Sorry. I was… I guess I was. But it’s like I said, I was having a really bad time.”
Wordlessly, Finn begins kissing all over my neck as his hands begin to explore. “I know. I-I know. I wasn’t mad. I promise. I can’t really be m-mad at you. You’ve given me so much more than I ever expected. I swear…”
More than he deserves, too. But this is more than I deserve as well. There’s not much to love about me. I’m annoying, I’m wishy-washy about literally everything, and I’m not special. God, I’m so far from being special it almost hurts.
When we’re together, though? I’m the lead actor. The prettiest flower in the garden. The most important person to ever grace this damn planet, and I love it. I love everything about it.
What good is normal love when Finn’s love is the most addictive there is.
Nothing could ever compare to it, and so fucking what if it’s bad?
Maybe I like being loved this way. Maybe that’s why my life felt so incomplete up until I met him.
After all, you never really know you need something until you lose it, and I don’t want to lose this.
Whatever this is.