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“What the fuck?” came from behind them and Finn jerked back so quickly, he almost fell off the couch.
Joq leaned away at a more leisurely pace.
George was in the entryway, his fury writ large on his face, his body radiating with it. Joq felt Finn getting up behind him.
“It’s not, George. It’s not…” Finn’s voice gave out. He sounded like he was about to cry.
“Finn?” George asked, a crack of sympathy in his anger.
Joq stood, placing his body between them. “Finn and I were just getting better acquainted. Right, Finn?” Joq looked over his shoulder and smiled at him, a clear warning.
All of Finn’s composure was gone. He looked rattled to his core—his face was pale, his lips were parted, and his eyes had a sheen.
Joq thought about watching George fuck him, Finn’s voice, ‘Just yours’ and he narrowed his eyes.
He knew Finn got it then: one wrong fucking move, Joq said with that look. Finn swallowed. Joq waited, feeling almost giddy—he hadn’t expected George to come home, but him finding them, assuming that, it was better than he could’ve imagined.
“I have to go,” Finn said, his voice shaky, but there was a resolve there now too.
“Probably a good idea,” Joq said. “Some other time maybe,” he tacked on.
Finn flinched. He dropped his eyes and made for the hallway, giving Joq a wide berth.
“Hang on,” George said. He was still angry, but Joq saw he was confused too. “Finn, what’s going on?”
Finn was shaking his head and reaching for his shoes, his face covered by his hair.
“Let him go, babe,” Joq said. “We didn’t think you’d be back so soon.”
He watched that land: Finn sucked in a breath, but kept his head down, fumbled with his shoes. George looked like he’d been punched in the face.
“No,” he said, turning to Finn. “No, Finn. What’s he…what… ”
But Finn was up, his head shaking, his breathing rough and wet. He was out the door before George could move.
“What the fuck was that?” George asked and turned to Joq.
Joq shrugged. “Fucking around? I dunno, it just kinda happened. Or started to.”
“No,” George said again, his head shaking. Joq couldn’t quite believe this had turned out so well. He’d had no intention of trying to hook up with Finn, of even making it look like that was about to happen; but it was a perfect final nail in the coffin.
“He wouldn’t…” George said like he was shell-shocked.
Joq picked up his laptop. “I’m sorry,” he said as somberly as he could. “He did.”
“Did you… What did you—
“Tread carefully, George,” Joq said, his tone metal. “You’ve known me a long time. You think I go around hitting on kids who don’t want it?”
And Joq knew he had him then. He watched the gears turn. Because Joq was right. He’d never do that—and up until Finnegan Flynn walked into his life, he never thought he’d do what he’d just done either. He waited to feel bad about it, but all he felt in that moment was self-righteous victory.
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” George dropped his head.
Joq exhaled. He went by him and headed for the stairs.
“Dinner’s ready,” he said and went for his office.
He was removing the USB stick, tucking it into his bag when he heard George’s car starting. He peered out the window in time to see him gunning it out the gates and just miss scratching his car as he barely waited for the gap.
