Chapter 13 #2
Finn kissed him. Evan let himself be kissed.
Warm and firm, Finn’s fists gathering the front of Evan’s shirt and pulling the fabric tight across his shoulders.
Different this time. No next moment to calculate.
No hallway waiting. Just Finn’s fists in his shirt and the taste of coffee and cold air and the radiator ticking beneath the window.
Evan walked Finn backward until his knees hit the mattress and he sat. Evan stood looking down at him. Finn tipped his face up in the amber light, lips parted, fists still twisted in Evan’s shirt.
“Lights on,” Evan said.
Finn’s gaze widened a fraction, then steadied. “Okay.”
Evan caught the hem of Finn’s shirt and dragged it up.
Knuckles brushing warm skin, the muscles of Finn’s stomach tensing under the touch.
Finn lifted his arms. The shirt came off.
Finn’s fingers worked Evan’s buttons, steady, the fabric parting to bare skin.
When the last button slipped free Finn pushed the shirt off Evan’s shoulders and it dropped to the carpet.
Evan looked. Lights on. No film-room shadows, no dashboard glow. The amber lamp caught the planes of Finn’s chest, the shallow shadow between his ribs, the trail of hair below his navel that had always been hidden before. Lighter than Evan expected, almost gold in this light.
They moved onto the bed. Evan braced above Finn on his forearms, the mattress dipping, sheets cool against overheated skin.
“Hi,” Finn said, voice low.
“Hi,” Evan answered, and kissed him.
He took his time. Lips tracing Finn’s jaw, finding the tight muscle at the hinge and pressing until it loosened. No rush. No version of himself to reassemble afterward. Just this bed, these lights, Finn watching him.
Finn’s fingers slid into Evan’s hair, gripping at the roots. Brown eyes steady. Evan held the gaze and Finn held it back.
Evan pressed his mouth to Finn’s throat where the pulse beat hard.
Worked lower. Tongue along the ridge of collarbone, teeth scraping skin over sternum.
Finn’s grip tightened in his hair. Hips rolled up, cock already hard against denim.
Evan kissed the trail of hair below Finn’s navel and Finn’s stomach contracted, breathing gone thin.
Evan opened Finn’s jeans. Dragged them down narrow hips, thighs, taking the boxer briefs with them. Finn kicked them free and lay there naked, hard, cock flushed and curved toward his belly, thighs open, palms loose on the sheets.
Evan’s breath left him in a rush.
He had had Finn in the dark. Never like this. Full length in lamplight. Flush spreading from cheeks down throat and across chest. Cock wet at the tip. Thighs trembling slightly with the effort of staying open.
“You’re looking at me like you’ve never seen me before,” Finn said. Voice rough at the edges.
“Yeah.” Evan ran one palm flat down Finn’s chest, over ribs, across stomach. “I am.”
He wrapped his fist around Finn’s cock and stroked. Slow. Watching the whole time. The way Finn’s lips parted. The way his head tipped back and his throat lengthened. Evan tightened on the upstroke and Finn’s hips bucked, breath punching out.
“Fuck. Evan.”
Evan dragged his thumb over the head on every pass, spreading the slick already leaking there.
Finn’s thighs tensed. One hand found Evan’s shoulder, gripping hard.
Eyes open. Locked on Evan’s face. In every hidden moment before they had buried their faces in each other’s necks.
Not now. Finn let himself be seen and watched Evan seeing him and every broken sound he made hit the hotel walls and came back.
“I need more.” Finn’s voice cracked. “I need you.”
Evan kissed him deep, fist still working between them. Then he reached for the nightstand, slicked his fingers.
“Look at me,” Evan said.
Finn did.
Evan pressed one finger inside. Finn’s breath caught, body tightening around the intrusion. Evan held still, other palm flat on Finn’s hip, thumb stroking bone. Finn exhaled. Loosened. Evan pushed deeper and Finn’s eyes went half-lidded, lips parting on a sound that was not quite a word.
“More.”
Second finger. Evan worked them, spreading, feeling the heat and give of Finn’s body. Finn’s grip twisted in the sheets. Spine arched. Evan curled his fingers and found the spot that made Finn’s whole body jolt. Pressed. Finn’s cock jerked against his stomach and a noise tore out of him.
“Right there—fuck—right there—”
Evan pressed again. And again. Watched the flush deepen, chest heaving, sweat starting at Finn’s temples. He added a third finger and Finn groaned, legs spreading wider, heels digging into the mattress as he rocked down onto Evan’s hand.
“I want you.” Finn sounded wrecked. “Now. I’m ready.”
Evan slicked himself. Lined up. The head of his cock pressed against Finn and he held there, just the blunt pressure, looking down at him in the lamplight.
“Eyes open,” Evan said.
Finn held his gaze.
Evan pushed inside. Slow. Inch by inch. The tight heat giving way, deeper than any cramped space had ever allowed. Finn’s eyes widened. Spine arched. Nails bit into Evan’s shoulders.
“There.” Finn’s voice broke. “Right there. Don’t move yet.”
Evan held. Arms locked. Every muscle straining. Sweat sliding down his spine. Finn’s body clenched hot and perfect around him. The lamp caught every flicker across Finn’s face—the flush, the wet shine of his lips, the way his eyes softened as his body adjusted.
“Okay.” Finn’s grip eased. Legs shifted wider, heels hooking behind Evan’s thighs. “Okay, you can—”
Evan thrust.
Deep. Rolling. Angling for the spot his fingers had found. Finn gasped. Grip scrabbling at Evan’s back. Evan thrust again and Finn’s name left his own throat rough and unplanned. Finn answered with “yes” and “there” and “harder” and Evan gave him everything.
Finn’s legs locked around him. Hips rising to meet every thrust. Cock trapped between their stomachs, friction dragging broken sounds from his throat that filled the room.
Evan braced on one arm and got his other hand between them, fist wrapping around Finn’s cock, stroking in time. Finn’s whole body bowed.
“Evan—fuck—I’m—”
“I know.” Evan thrust deep and ground there, fist moving fast and tight. “I know. Let me see you.”
Finn came with Evan’s name on his lips and his eyes locked on Evan’s face, cum streaking his own stomach and Evan’s fist. Evan followed two thrusts later, buried deep, face pressed to Finn’s temple, breathing sweat and warmth and this man, this room, this choice.
The thing behind Evan’s ribs opened. Not broke. Released.
“I love you,” he said against the damp skin of Finn’s throat. The words slipped out. He had not planned them. He did not want them back.
Finn’s fingers tightened in Evan’s hair, loosened, tightened again. His whole body moved through it before his voice caught up. He pulled Evan down and kissed him hard, teeth catching Evan’s lower lip. When they broke apart Finn’s eyes were wet and his face was stripped bare.
“I see you,” Finn said.
“I see you too.”
Evan rolled his hips again, slower now, Finn rising to meet him. Eyes open. Nothing hidden. Bedframe creaking beneath them.
* * *
Afterward, they lay tangled, sheets twisted around their hips, lamp still on. Finn’s head rested on Evan’s chest, hair drying in damp waves against Evan’s skin. Evan kept one palm threaded through Finn’s hair, fingers moving slow.
“She’s going to want to meet you,” Evan said.
Finn lifted his head. “Who?”
“Claire. My sister.”
“Oh.” Finn settled back down, cheek against Evan’s sternum. “Okay.”
“I talked to my father this morning before I left.” Evan’s fingers kept moving through Finn’s hair. “I told him about you. About us. I didn’t ask permission. I just told him.”
Finn went still against his chest. “You did?”
“I told him you were the reason I’d been focused.”
Finn lifted his head again and looked at him.
“He said okay. That was it.”
Finn’s throat moved. He lifted one palm and traced the gray at Evan’s temple with his thumb. Evan turned his head and pressed his lips to Finn’s palm.
“I’m going to be terrible at this sometimes,” Evan said. “The reflex will fire and I’ll reach for the professional voice before I catch myself. I’m not promising perfect.”
Finn propped himself on one elbow. Hair wrecked, gaze steady. “I know. But you showed up in a parking lot in Chicago and kissed me in front of the Fury facility. And you told your father. So I think we’ll figure it out.”
“I love you,” Evan said again.
Finn’s mouth curved. “I know. You said that already.”
* * *
They ordered room service and ate in bed.
Finn sat cross-legged against the headboard with a plate of pasta balanced on his knee.
Evan leaned back against the pillows, shirt still off, fork in one hand.
Both of them eating like they had forgotten food existed for hours.
Finn had already fielded three more calls from his agent.
Evan had answered a single text from Claire that said simply: well?
Finn’s phone rang.
Caller ID read Kowalski.
Finn glanced at it, then at Evan, who had gone very still on the pillows, fork halfway to his mouth. Finn answered.
“Hey.”
Eli’s voice came through easy. “Heard you’re in Chicago.”
“Yeah.” Finn looked at Evan, who was pretending to be very interested in his pasta while watching Finn with sharp focus. “Eval went well.”
“Good. You have dinner plans tomorrow?”
Finn raised an eyebrow at Evan. “Not yet?”
“There’s a place near the facility. Good pizza. I’ll text you the address.” A pause. “Bring Tremblay if he’s there.”
Finn’s mouth opened. Closed. “How did you—”
“He called me. Told me to keep an eye out for you. Said Michigan players are good people and I should make sure you had someone looking out for you.” Eli’s voice went dry. “He thought I wouldn’t figure out why he cared.”
Finn looked at Evan. Evan had set his fork down and was studying the far wall like the hotel art had suddenly become fascinating.
“He called you,” Finn said.
“Didn’t take credit. Told me not to mention it. But I’m mentioning it because he’s an idiot and you should know.”
Finn’s chest went warm. He looked at Evan, whose expression sat caught between sheepish and defiant.
“Yeah,” Finn said. “I’m figuring that out.”
“Dinner tomorrow. Seven. Both of you.” Eli paused. “It’s good to have Michigan people in Chicago, Holloway. I’m glad you’re here.”
The call ended.
Finn set the phone down and looked at Evan. Evan looked back, palms flat on the duvet on either side of his plate.
“You called Kowalski.”
“Yes.”
“And told him to look out for me.”
Evan’s throat moved. “I couldn’t be the one to do it. But I needed someone to. So I called him.”
“You told him Michigan players are good people.”
“They are. You are.”
Finn looked at him for a long moment. This man sitting shirtless in a hotel bed with pasta sauce on his thumb and the gray at his temples catching the lamplight and every piece of armor gone.
Then Finn leaned over and kissed him, tasting garlic and warmth.
When he pulled back Evan’s mouth was soft and he was looking at Finn the way he would look at him in any hallway, in front of anyone, without checking first.
“We’re having dinner with Kowalski tomorrow,” Finn said.
“Apparently.”
“You’re buying.”
“That seems fair.”
Finn settled back onto Evan’s chest. Evan’s arms came around him, one palm warm against his ribs, the other resting on the duvet.
But Michigan’s ice was still his.
And so was this.