Page 25 of Finding Finn
“Slow is the word I think you mean to say.”
“Well… Yeah.” I lied. I planned on doing some very nasty things to him tonight, and I was fairly sure he didn’t mind.
“I love you.”
“Love you too, sis.”
“Do not fuck this up.”
I held my hands up, and she huffed before turning away and walking back into her office. God, it was hot in here. I walked over and turned on the air.
I took my old dirty t-shirt off and threw it on the front row of chairs before heading into the small tech office.
I fiddled with my lighting plan and where I’d hang the lights for the auditions. A little while later, Finn walked in and walked over to the barre I had placed in the middle of the stage. I watched him as he stretched. His body was so lithe and tight as he bent into one contortion after another.
He stepped up to the barre and began going through his routine. His leg muscles popped with every movement, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I watched from the booth as his body tensed and loosened with every movement. He grabbed his ankle as he held onto the barre with one hand and slowly raised it above his head. It was beautiful and I knew how difficult it was. He slowly lowered it, and his thigh burst into muscle. He moved the barre out of the way, and I watched him go to one side of the stage. He pulled himself tightly upright, and then he burst across the stage in a flurry of spins and jumps.
It was beautiful.
He was beautiful.
He was amazing at what he did. No wonder he had been on Broadway. He was remarkable.
My cock hardened as I stared at him gracefully move across the floor. One series of dance moves after another. I reached down and grabbed my cock in my hand and squeezed.
He looked up and smiled at me. I couldn’t wait until tonight. I wanted to explore every inch of him.
9
FINN
“Your place is nice,” I looked around Jim’s apartment. It was the opposite of mine. Instead of grandma vibes, his house looked like a straight guy who had moved into his first apartment. “You don’t have a lot of furniture.”
He laughed. “Yeah… I moved in and never really moved in. I’m always so busy with everything that I never actually went out and bought much. I already had the couch, the TV, and the table from my old college place.”
“I’m sure this couch could tell some tales.”
“You’d be surprised. But it saw some shit back in the day, I guess. Do you want a drink? I have a bottle of cheap champagne and a few beers in the fridge.”
“Sure. Champagne sounds great.”
“You like bubbles?”
“I even like my water bubbly,” I laughed.
He came out a few minutes later with two small glasses filled to the rim. “I don’t have champagne glasses.”
“I don’t care. Though I am reconsidering sitting on this couch,” I grinned.
“Does it have too much of a past for you?”
“How much of a past does it have?”
“Oh, it’s really been through it. I even tried hooking up with a girl on it. So… It’s a little bi.” He chuckled.
“Oh, really.” I snickered. “How about the owner?”
“Oh, he discovered he was a full-time homosexual, and so did she. She’s now a lesbian who lives in Vermont and runs an inn. She’s a total cliché.”
