Fin almost drags me the rest of the way home, through the pouring rain. He's angry, I can tell that much, but I'm not sure what about and I daren't ask in case it's the final break on this fragile thing.

He waits impatiently for me to unlock the door, tapping his foot with his arms defensively crossed, but then he's dragging me again, right to my bedroom, where we drip onto the hardwood floor and stare at each other.

"What the fuck?" he says, finally.

I don't know how to respond. He breathes out harshly before turning toward the bathroom.

When he comes back he throws one of the towels at me, not gently.

"Why are you mad?" I ask when my hair is at least no longer dripping cold globules down my neck.

"Wh-? For fucks' sake. Really? You've blown hot and cold on me since I met you. I thought I'd finally got through to you when I had to fucking fling myself at you. I thought we had something. I thought I was more to you than, than-"

He flails his arms around like there are no words for how annoyed he is with me. I'm still confused, but I don't think he'll appreciate me pointing that out to him.

He takes a deep breath, stilling, before a new flurry of movement sees him stripping his t-shirt off and shoving his jeans down until he's standing naked in front of me.

He's so damn beautiful, even if every glance I give him feels stolen.

"Did you only go along with it because you thought I was a whore?" he demands.

"No! Fuck, no. Even if you had been doing- listen, I didn't think any less of you. It was just the thing that was most logical to me."

His shoulders relax minutely. "Okay."

"You're cold."

I move to grab him dry clothes, but he stops me with a harsh exclamation.

"Take your clothes off," he adds, reposing into the foot-tapping, arms crossed position from earlier.

I strip nervously, perplexed, but willing to go along with it if it's going to help. I try not to compare our bodies in the full-length mirror on my far wall. How finely he's structured compared to me. It's not going to help, though I can't help catching the sight of the reflection of his perfect round arse.

When we both stand, naked, and trying not to shiver in my case, he puts his hands on his hips.

"My ex is a shit."

"Okay," I say, slowly.

"Something about what happened today got to you. We were fine before. Building something, I hoped. And now you've shut down and you're talking in circles, and I want to know. Because my past ruined enough things about me, and I won't have them ruin you, too."

"You couldn't possibly ruin me, Fin. You're too- I don't know. You're too much more than I could ever expect for me."

He takes my wrist and pulls me over to the bed, gently pushing me to sit before he climbs behind me. His hands are resting on my shoulders, and I realise we're directly in front of the mirror.

"Is that why you only want to fool around?"

"I don't only want that," I tell him. I don't want to admit the truth, but I understand it won't be going anywhere if I continue to try to hide from him - I can see it in the stern glare reflected. "But I know I can't have more."

I can see him pouting and there's a soft smack against my upper arm.

"Please, Callum. You keep saying things like that and then just stopping. Like they're explanation enough. You have to say what you mean."

It's easier if I look down at my knees instead of at his reflection. "Of course, I like you. What's not to like? But I'm not stupid. You're crazy out of my league."

I can see his face drop, and I curl in a little because he doesn't want to hear this from me. But I'm committed now.

"The way you were close friends with Nyora after meeting her once. You have the customers who I've known for years and barely speak to telling you things about themselves. You greet half of them with their names and their order after working for a few days. I can't compete with that."

"Wait. You like me because I'm friendly?"

"You light a room up, Fin, without needing to try. You're smart, and funny, and bright. You make me happy just being around you. Of course, I want more. But I'd never make demands of you."

"So why did you get all sulky today?"

"You were already out of my league. And then I find out it's more than that - we don't even belong on the same plane. I mean look at you and then look at me. Look at what you've achieved."

He laughs, joyously, and I look up in shock. He's not mad, or disgusted.

"How about the way I look?" he asks, still grinning.

"Well, you're gorgeous, but that goes without saying."

He rests his chin on the curve of my shoulder. "You think. Mark used to police everything I ate. Tell me I didn't need the fat anytime I even thought about looking at a cake or chocolate. Would watch me exercising to make sure I 'complied'. Wouldn't even let me drink water before a shoot. He didn't care I was friendly - he'd tell me not to bother talking to anyone who wouldn't advance my career. Until I met you, it'd been years since I made a new friend who didn't want something from me."

"He made you feel like shit."

"He did. But he never broke me. Not even when I realised even though he had a model in his bed, he was still out fucking anything that moves."

"Is that what made you stop and leave?"

"Getting away from him was part of it. He started getting aggressive. He never hit me - or anything worse - but there were a few close calls. It was the day I spoke to my agent - we had a meeting and I said something that annoyed him. I can't even remember what. She got one of her colleagues to distract him and then she was asking me if I was safe with him. It was the first time I'd properly considered it and I realised I didn't feel safe. That's what finally made my mind up."

I can see why Fin might show interest in me then - being so far out of that lifestyle. A long way from being a model myself, and also a long way from being as arrogant as his ex. I can live with being his rebound; his inbetweener until he finds someone better for him.

"I can see your brain whirring, you know."

"What are we?" I ask.

"I don't know yet. But I want us to be something. You told me what you like about me, how about I do the same for you? Because I can tell you don't believe that I do like you."

"I can't offer you anything."

"Really? That's what you think? Because already, you've been kind, you've protected me, you've been there for me. You're underestimating how important those things are."

From behind, he wraps his legs around my hips, hooking my thighs with his heels and spreading my legs in a way that makes me gasp.

"And it doesn't hurt that you're fucking gorgeous, either."

I can feel his lean, muscular torso pressed into my back and I can't help but scoff. "I don't think so."

"You might not, but I do. You have no idea what I see when I look at these strong arms and this thick chest." He runs his fingers over my pecs, teasing my nipples on the way past to my abs. They're flat enough, I guess, but they aren't cut like his and I feel conscious until I realise he's tracing the tattoo that takes up half my chest and one whole arm and extends down to my stomach.

"And this, knowing you, it's not just stunning, but means something too. And I want to find out what, and I want to find out all the things that mean something to you. I want to spend more time with you and Nyora and find out everything she knows about you, and I want to find more things for myself. I want your pretty eyes looking at me while I work without you trying to hide it. I want to draw the way you look right now, reflected in that mirror."

I can barely believe he's saying this stuff, which makes me flush with a kind of happy embarrassment. No one's ever spoken about me that way, with that much pleasure in being able to describe me.

And then he kisses up the side of my neck until he's close to my ear and I can feel his hot breath as he takes my hard dick in his hand and whispers, "And I want to feel this perfect cock stretching me open, laying claim to me. I want to ride you until you can't even think about being down on yourself because you feel too good. Because I make you feel good."

He laughs as I twist and pull him onto my lap, coming easy and wrapping his arms around my neck, looking down with something like adoration in his eyes. I wonder if that's the look he sees on me because it's a good look, so I can kind of see why it might have affected him. It's doing a number on me, that's for sure.

"Can I guess you might want this too?" he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to mine.

I show my intention by kissing him back, pulling him even tighter to me so I can feel him, prove he's real, feel the way we're pressed up against each other, hard lines in synchronicity.

There's more kissing and grinding and roaming hands, until he pulls away enough to whisper to me that he wants it - he wants me.

"Fuck, I think I might be dreaming," I admit.

"If you are, I am too. I like it."

Things move then, I slide inside him with one finger first - lube and condom awkwardly fished from my bedside table without us separating - then a second. I'm about to go for a third, but he stills me with his hand on my wrist.

"I want to feel it. I want to feel you carving a place for yourself inside me."

I whimper at that, a ridiculous noise but a real one, created by what he wants from me, what I want to give him. It's more than the feel of pressing in, the hiss he gives at the initial burn, the way I can feel the way his walls try to push me out, but he shifts and focuses to change their intent. He takes over the movement, steadied by my hands on his hips. And it's his eyes never leaving mine and the well of tears that shine so happy.

Even after - after I help him to come with a hand wrapped around him, just in time because I follow only moments later, unable to hold back - and we're laying close, arms and legs entangled, there's a sense of being on the same page, and it being a new one: fresh and clean.

It's been years since I even wanted to feel a connection to someone, and the one I feel for Fin is so natural it's like it's been there forever. Sure, I know my insecurities aren't gone permanently - they'll be back - but he knows them. He sees them and he sees me in a way Lauren never tried to. And I think I can do the same for him. I value him beyond myself, in a way he hasn't experienced either. I can see him at my side in the café, as it develops into something bigger and better, moving with the ebbs and flows that are us, together. I can see us building something that lasts. 

~Fin~