The day has finally come!!
I've posted chapter 1 of the vaincre podfic!!
all credit to @lumosinlove, who has created a truly remarkable universe, and making hazel-verse podfics is truly the nicest hobby.
I am hoping to release new chapters every Friday, but later chapters are not quite fully finished, so I'm afraid I can't commit fully to a release schedule.
Related, there are around 35 voices in this podfic!!
If I missed anyone or didn't know someone's tumblr, please let me know!
Cover artist: @marmarifer
Alex O'Hara: @bkfstclubmember
Celeste Dumais: Ami
Cole Reyes: @girlwithcurls96
Dean Thomas: @noblecorgi
Evgeni Kuznetsov: @greendrawer
Fan at the cup parade: @platonicmoonwater00
Finn O'Hara: @arrowofcarnations
Haley O'Hara: @veryspacecowboy
Hannah: @emjayeingray
Hope Lupin: @givemetherapyimawritingtravesty
Jack Archer: to come
James Potter: @orionsgirl7lovegoodravenclaw
Kasey Winter: @fruitcoops
Katie Dumais: @kindofspecificstore
Kota Takahashi: @campfire-tales-bound
Lars: chickens
Layla: @literarion
Lee Jordan: @micha-making-podfics
Leo Knut: @heyitssmiller
Logan Tremblay: @peggyrose19
Luke Deveaux: @noopienoopiernoopiest
Marlene McKinnon: @imjusthereforwolfstar
Natalie Darcy: @girlwithcurls96
Noelle Tremblay: AHelplessBookworm
Olli Halla: @heyitssmiller
Percy Marshall: @cr-amber
Prim: @imjusthereforwolfstar
Regulus: @veryspacecowboy
Sebastian Montague: to come
Sergei Ivanov: Kealer
Thomas Walker: @hihimissamericanbi
Will Morgan: flame
THANK YOU to everyone who helped me make this!! I literally couldn't do it without you
Leo was surprised that he slept at all, but when he woke up the next morning, the light was bright through the gauzy curtains and he sat up feeling like he was forgetting something. It was a trade off he’d learned to deal with. Either his insomnia kept him up all night, or he crashed hard and woke up wondering if he’d been asleep for a week. Or maybe it was just this place. He’d left a window open and the smell of the ocean was so heavenly that Leo nearly fell back into his pillows and basked in it. Until he remembered. Then he fell back into his pillows and tried to figure out what had happened last night, and what might be waiting for him out there.
He listened.
Guitar. Soft, beautiful guitar.
Maybe it had even been what had woken him. That, or the smell of coffee. Leo had seen about five different ways of making coffee in that kitchen and he tried to calm himself by seeing if he could figure out what they were using. It was probably impossible—it was just coffee—but he tried anyway. French press. Espresso. Stove top. Coffee machine, like the one Finn had forgone all of the fancier equipment for back in New York. Maybe he preferred it. What did Logan prefer?
They had wanted to be with him last night. Even worse, Leo had wanted to be with them last night. He could have been waking up in that master bedroom he’d caught a glimpse of. Logan and Finn’s suitcases both disasters on the floor. Now, the bed would be unmade. Had they stayed up late by the fire or followed Leo inside soon after? Leo had forced himself not to listen. He’d counted sheep. He’d counted waves down below. He’d counted his own breaths and heartbeats and all but forced himself to sleep so he wouldn’t count the ways that conversation could have gone or how that night could have ended.
And now Finn O’Hara was playing guitar in the main room—it was Finn. Logan picked it up sometimes but he wasn’t as nimble with it as Finn. So, maybe Logan was making coffee. Or it was only Finn awake with coffee and music and Logan was sleeping in as usual. He clicked on his phone. Eight-thirty. If Logan had his choice, he would still be sleeping. Leo tried to fight the twinge that came with the warm feeling that he knew that.
Leo forced himself to get up. He went to the bathroom, ran wet fingers through his hair, and looked at himself in the mirror. This tedious, nervous feeling didn’t reflect in his face. He looked rested and like he’d gotten some sun. He pulled his t-shirt over his head and regarded himself. He didn’t workout much. He liked the classes he went to with Cassie. He was usually the only guy, but he didn’t mind. They laughed as much as they worked but Leo always left drenched in sweat so he figured it was worth it. He looked like he’d always looked to himself. Maybe not as defined as Finn and Logan with their drumming and back-stage push ups, but he’d always been tall and lean.
He went to his suitcase and looked at his options. They’d walk into town today? They’d go to Logan’s nice restaurant? Would they swim and he’d change before dinner?
Were they going to send him home after he’d refused them? He needed to write.
Finn’s voice, muffled, filtered to him through the door, and Logan’s replied. So, they were both up. At the thought that they were waiting on him, Leo threw on a pair of light wash jeans—cool enough, he supposed—and a white t-shirt.
Everything you want, then Logan had said. Leo ran his hands through his hair again and closed his eyes. He wanted quite a bit, and none of it had to do with clothes.
He opened his door slowly and the guitar got louder without the wood blocking it. Leo paused, trying to recognize the song.
“—open doors,” Logan was saying. “And…hm. And open doors…”
“And admit that we won,” Finn replied, talking in a meter that wasn’t quite singing. “Begun, won. Not quite a perfect rhyme, but that’s…”
“Non, that’s good. I like that. When you sing it, it’s a perfect one.”
Leo’s heart picked up.
They were writing a song.
He was tempted to stay hidden and listen, but that felt like a betrayal somehow. Rude. This was private.
Finn began to sing, actually sing, if not a little quietly for Leo’s benefit, just as Leo rounded the corner.
“We tried to fight it off with—oh, hey.” Finn was looking at him, a hesitant sort of smile on his face. “Hi, hi, good morning.”
“Hi,” Leo said.
There was a pause. An obvious one. One that made Leo panic, just a little. Finn’s eyes were a soft, worried brown and Leo didn’t know what to do with that. Logan saved him.
“Salut,” Logan said. He was standing by the stove in a white linen shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest and holding a stovetop espresso pot. He looked so tan against the white shirt, his hair wet and curlier than usual—from a swim in the ocean? It was pushed back from his face like Leo had seen it that first day at their apartment in New York. Leo glanced back at Finn, who was already looking at him. The expression on his face seemed to say I know, right?
Logan held up the silver pot and Leo made himself study that instead. It looked well-loved. Stained, the metal changed from the heat.
“Coffee?” Logan asked.
“Yes,” Leo said. “Yeah, please.”
“Did you sleep okay?” Finn asked.
“Was everything—” Logan began to ask, then registered what Finn said. “Oh, ouais, yeah, did you…yeah.”
Finn laughed and gave him a helpless sort of shrug and it made Leo relax a little. They didn’t seem upset. Or like they wanted him gone. They seemed nervous, too.
“I did,” Leo said. “Sleeping with the window open and hearing the waves is so great.”
“I know,” Finn said. “Soothing.”
“I put a little bit of sugar,” Logan said. He nudged an espresso cup across the counter. “Because it’s good.”
“How much is a ‘little bit’ of sugar in your world?” Leo asked—Because it seemed like it might crack some of this worry between them, brittle and crystalized as sugar itself.
Logan’s smile proved him right. “I guessed at what your 'little bit’ would be.” Logan tilted his head. “I think I did good.”
Logan wanted to take them into town for breakfast. Leo wondered if the same car was going to come and pick them up, but it turned out Logan had other plans. He led them through a door—Leo honestly, at this point, wasn’t even going to try to map the house. It sprawled in directions he couldn’t even clock. This time they ended up in a garage that had two cars covered in crisp white sheets.
“Pick a color,” Logan said. “Yellow or green.”
“Oh my God,” Finn said. “Logan.”
Logan just smiled and shrugged. “Yellow or green, Leo?"
“Green,” Leo said instantly and Finn gave him a smile.
Logan strode forward, took hold of the closer sheet, and yanked it off in one flourish. Beneath it sat a pristine, gleaming Porsche. It was an older model, vintage looking with a low roof and a bumper that looked like a smile. It’s velvety dark green color was sleek and spotless.
“Wow,” Leo said faintly. “I mean, yes. The obvious choice for a ride to breakfast.”
Finn laughed loudly and it echoed in the room. “I know, right?”
Logan took a pair of keys off of the wall and tossed the other to Finn. “You’re yellow, Coeur.”
Leo blinked and saw a flash of Finn’s lips on Logan’s skin last night. Logan had just called Finn heart.
It was perfect. He and Logan zipped along narrow, cliffside roads in their green car with the bright racer yellow of Finn’s behind them. Besides the colors, they were a perfect match. Leo felt like he was in a movie with the engine in his ears. They couldn’t talk over the roar, not to mention the wind. Logan rolled all the windows down—literally. The card had cranks not buttons. The salty wind whipped at their hair and Leo knew that he might look insane when he got out of the car, but he didn’t care, not with Logan’s strong hands to study. He had one easy on the steering wheel, and dropped the other periodically to change gears. It was a little like the way he drummed. Just a different sort of rhythm.
They didn’t speak until Logan had to slow down because they’d entered a small town. A market was in full swing and everyone seemed to know Logan’s cars—and Logan himself. He waved out the window at two small kids as he pulled into a parking spot. They were jumping up and down and each holding a peach that was dripping down their arms.
Oh, Leo wanted to shop here. He clicked his seatbelt off and looked at Logan.
“Hi,” Logan said. “Fun?”
Leo nodded. “Fun.”
As they walked around, it became clear to Leo that he was going to have to add an entire section to his article that was just about Logan being here. Even his body moved differently. Leo and Finn walked a few paces behind him as he was greeted by nearly every vendor. They all exchanged kisses on both cheeks. Leo sort of wanted to see Logan kiss Finn on both cheeks.
“Beautiful, right?” Finn leaned over and whispered to him. He was in a white t-shirt like Leo’s, and soft looking blue shorts. Exactly which part of the scene in front of them he was referring to, Leo didn’t know, but it didn’t matter. His yes applied to all of it.
Leo was about to buy a few of the peaches he’d seen the kids holding when Logan appeared at his side and dropped coins onto the vendor’s table.
Before Leo could even protest, Logan was guiding him away with a hand on his back and holding something out to him in a flat palm. It was a small pastry nestled in parchment. It looked lemony, or maybe it was an almond paste. On top were two perfect raspberries.
“It’s the best thing you’ll ever eat,” Logan said in French. “I promise.”
“Big promise,” Leo said.
Logan laughed. “It’s true. I dream of them. I could write a song about them.”
“Oh,” Leo said. “Well, in that case.” He picked up the square sweet and took a bite. He’d been right about the almond. It was a sweet, nutty burst in his mouth beside the raspberries. The pastry felt like a thousand thin layers of crisp and butter. Leo closed his eyes and nodded. “Ouais. Yeah, it’s perfect.”
When he opened his eyes again, Logan was still there, gazing up at him with a bright, satisfied grin.
“Let’s get another,” Leo said.
“They sell out fast,” Logan said. “This was their last.”
“Did you get one?”
Logan shrugged. “I wanted you to try it.”
Leo frowned at the half pastry remaining at his hand.
“It’s okay,” Logan said. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”
But Leo held out the other half. “Non. Tu en rêves.”
It was maybe one of the best parts of being here, seeing Logan’s face when he spoke French to him.
“You like it,” Logan said. “I can tell.”
Leo mimicked Logan’s shrug. “We’ll come back tomorrow.”
Logan bit the inside of his cheek, then smiled. Eyes on Leo, he leaned forward and took the rest of the pastry between his teeth right from Leo’s fingertips. Leo hadn’t been expecting that. He could feel color rise to his cheeks as sure as he felt the sun on his neck.
“Just like you remember?” Leo asked to try and draw attention away from his red face. It came in a double force, though, when Logan raised up a thumb and brushed a crumb from the corner of Leo’s mouth.
“Better,” Logan said. The French word’s soft double L sound gorgeous in his mouth.
Leo self consciously touched where Logan had touched his mouth. He sort of wanted him to do it again.
“Will you write about this?” Logan asked. “I hope you write about this.”
“Our week’s almost up,” Leo said. “Pretty good finale, I’d say.”
Logan’s face fell.
“Mais…the week we agreed on maybe,” Logan said softly. “Or that was agreed on. By others who didn’t know that we…”
Logan dropped his gaze and Leo was right back in last night, the heat of the fire on his face. Finn and Logan’s open expressions and hopeful eyes. Leo glanced around for Finn and found him talking animatedly to a man at a stall of books. Finn O’Hara, Leo thought. He didn’t look like the rock star, or the heart throb, or the dream talk show guest. He was this sweet boy trying his best to meet that man halfway with bad French and hand gestures. Who got called heart by his boyfriend, who had a boyfriend, who wanted Leo’s voice to help them tell the world about each other.
“Would you…” Logan huffed. He looked around and then took Leo by the hand and tugged him towards an old set of narrow steps in the shade of a sweet smelling tree. Leo let him maneuver them into sitting, squeezed next to each other.
Logan fixed him with his bright green eyes. “Would you want to stay?” Logan asked. “You just got here.”
“You…You want me to extend the story?”
“I want you to stay.”
There was a whole landslide of other halves to that sentence. Leo couldn’t have guessed at a single one.
Leo smiled a little. “You know, I didn’t think you liked me when we first met.”
“No one thinks I like them when we first meet.”
The paper bag of peaches was cool on his lap. Logan had a bag, too, and when he caught Leo looking at it, he uncurled the top. Croissants, chocolate and plain.
“I was nervous,” Logan said. “It wasn’t that I didn’t like you. I was worried about the story. Mostly, I was worried you wouldn’t like us.”
“You didn’t even know me.”
“I knew you in the way you knew us,” Logan said. “Through your writing. Non, we don’t know-knoweach other, but we know each other. You can’t write without some truth. Can you?”
He had him there. “That’s true. No, that’s true. Okay…”
“Leo,” Logan said more seriously. He pushed their thighs together harder where they were already touching. “Will you stay? Only if you want to, of course, but…please. We want you to stay.”
God, did he want to. He wanted months of whatever this was. Whatever they were dancing around—because it was something. God, it was something. Leo didn’t sleep much but he had already dreamed about it. He just wished there was a way to tell them that he wouldn’t say it first. He couldn’t say it first. Right now, he was in charge of the most important story of their careers. If something soured—and Leo knew better than most how quickly things could sour—he didn’t want any more tangles than necessary. They had each other. They already had each other.
“I’ve told you how much you’ve meant to me,” Leo began. “And for how long.”
Logan nodded.
“And I’ve told you that you’ve helped me through some bad people and experiences.”
“Ouais. But we got interrupted.”
“We did, yeah. Yeah…” Leo sighed. “Well, the bottom line is, you’re not the first, um…”
“Le sujet,” Logan offered, then winced.
“Subject. Sure. You’re not the first subject who’s wanted to…” There was no better way to say it, honestly. “Sleep with me. That is what was happening last night, wasn’t it?”
“First, we would have wanted to kiss you.”
They both looked up just as Finn sat down, sitting sideways on the step below them so they had to lift let their legs go over his. When he smiled and pushed his sunglasses up on his head, he was Finn O’Hara for a second. It looked like a Vogue cover shoot. And then he tipped Leo’s bag to poke inside and he was Finn again.
Kiss you. He’d surely walked into some far-fetched dream of his own making. But, no, there they were. They were both touching him somehow. Knee against knee. Finn’s knuckles kept brushing his ankle. It was comforting.
“You wanted it to go somewhere last night,” Leo repeated. “Kiss, more…but that’s what was going on. I’m not wrong?”
“You’re right,” Logan said. He was blushing. Sweating a little, pushing his hair back. The market was loud and oblivious around them, and Leo wasn’t sure why this conversation was happening here, but it was.
“We didn’t just want to sleep with you,” Logan said.
“Okay…” Leo shook his head and looked at Finn. “The kissing your boyfriend in front of me didn’t really give me any clues farther than fucking.”
“Yeah…” Finn was rubbing at one of his eyes. “I think maybe we’re a little rusty on the flirting side of things.”
“There is no way your flirting is rusty,” Leo said, laughing a little. “Believe me, I think I’d know. I’ve been watching you for a week, you flirt with everyone.”
“No,” Finn said. “Nu-uh. I make everyone think I’m flirting with them. I make whole crowds think I’m flirting with them.” He turned to face Leo. “I flirt…or try to…with you.”
“We weren’t just trying to—” Logan looked horrified. “Là, what, quoi, have sex then goodbye?”
Finn dropped his forehead on Leo’s knee. “We were trying…” He looked up at Logan. “We should have just asked him out to dinner, like, obviously!”
“I did ask him to dinner!”
“No, like, ask-ask. That’s not the same thing!”
“Okay,” Leo held up a hand, heart wildly trying to beat against his ribs. Everything inside of him hurt. He couldn’t tell if this was real or not. Mostly, he couldn’t see the infatuation. The short lived lust. Not here. With Finn and Logan, he just couldn’t tell. They both seemed—well, a little nervous, actually. Leo didn’t think he’d seen them so flustered. Ever.
“My job is to make the people I’m writing about feel comfortable,” Leo said. “And it’s been mistaken for attraction before. That’s just…” Leo held up a hand. “I’m just putting that down.”
“You weren’t just making us feel comfortable,” Finn said firmly. “Do you know how many journalists we’ve been around? God, so many and a lot of them are awful. They call my brother behind my back hoping to get some dirt or jealousy. I’ll turn around and they’ve opened one of my fucking notebooks. Leo, you are so different, you are so…” Finn looked at Logan for a moment. “I’ve loved your writing for so long. I read it to Logan, even your pieces from that blog you used to run.”
Leo flushed. “Oh—oh my God, what?”
His blog. When he’d been desperately trying to get clips to big magazines. Finn O’Hara—Read it to—
“You slipped right into us,” Finn said. “You’re gorgeous and you’re so smart and articulate…I think I could talk to you for hours. Nothing felt like an interview, you felt like we’d known you forever.”
“Forever,” Logan agreed.
Leo wanted to shake them. “Finn, that’s my job. I’m really fucking good at my job.”
“Yeah, but how often do you forget you’re doing you’re job because you’re happy, too?” Finn fired back, but then his eyes softened. He put a hand on Leo’s knee. “You felt it, too. You can’t tell me I’m wrong about that.”
“Yes, I—” Leo closed his eyes briefly. “Yes. Yes, of course I did. I did.”
He really could have talked to them forever. Sometimes he’d even forgotten there was a show to perform when they’d been laughing and talking in their dressing room beforehand. He could have listened to them forever. Logan’s little French mumbles. The way he closed his eyes when he practiced a song. They way his fingers drummed on every surface—they were twitching on Leo’s other knee now. The songs Finn sang around hotel rooms and apartments—not his own songs. His favorite songs. Leo wanted to know all of Finn’s favorite songs and why. They way they watched him cook. The way they showed their appreciation. The way they kissed each other. He wanted to brush his teeth beside them and crawl into bed and talk after turning the lights off until they were too tired. What a fantasy.
“Look,” Leo said. “I’m not just protecting myself here. Do I think you’re both—God, so gorgeous I can’t breathe, and sweet, and funny, and talented, yes. But I thought that even before I knew you. I’m trying to separate my skills from myself for your sake, and I’m trying to separate your stardom and your selves for my sake. And yours. Guys, you don’t want someone who wants you because you’re famous.”
“You don’t,” Finn said. “I know what that looks like.”
“We both do,” Logan said.
“I—okay. Of course you would know. But even still.” Leo sighed, heart heavier by the moment. He didn’t know if he was wrong here or if they were just good at trying to prove him wrong. “You have each other. You are asking me to write about your love for the first time in public and that’s a big deal. You two are going to get so much attention, it’s insane. And you’re telling me you like me, and you feel something for me, but there is going to be literally zero room for me when not only does your album come out, but this article. If you even still want me then.”
Leo was so out of breath it made his heart pound and stars appear at the edges of his visions. Those last words had come out a whisper. He’d said it, though. All of it. He’d needed the words and the words had been right there for him to arrange. Even more, Leo and Finn were both completely silent, completely still, and listening.
“I’ve been the thing that someone keeps in the dark before,” Leo said, keeping his eyes down. He felt Logan’s hand tighten on his knee. “Literally. He wouldn’t even keep the lights on when we kissed.”
Logan’s other hand appeared. Or Finn’s? They were all but holding whatever part of him they could reach now. Leo couldn’t push them away. Maybe right now he could explain to them why he thought he should be saying no, but he didn’t want them to let go.
“Am I very attracted to you both? Yes. Was it very hard to say no last night?” Leo’s laugh was half groan. “God, yes. But am I going to be kept in any sort of darkness ever again?” Leo swallowed hard, throat tight, and shook his head. “No. I’m…I’m sorry, but no.”
No sooner had Leo finished that sentence than did one of the little kids that had been practically hanging off of Logan’s body earlier launch itself over Finn’s legs and straight into Logan’s lap. She started talking a mile a minute—even Leo couldn’t quite keep up. Logan just stared. He held the little girl, nodding, smiling, but in a daze. Leo didn’t know if Finn knew his hand was on Leo’s calf, tightening and loosening, maybe as he tried to think what to do. What to say.
Leo was just beginning to suspect maybe he had said too much when the girl’s mother called her away.
They were still quiet. Leo could pick out each of their breathing. He looked at Finn, because his silence meant he still wasn’t convinced. Leo didn’t really want him to be.
“Logan told me that he thinks about the way he used to miss you, and misses you sometimes even when you’re asleep right next to him.”
Finn looked at Logan, lips parting. He didn’t look surprised, exactly. Just like it hurt to hear it again.
Leo covered Finn’s hand with his, drawing his eyes back to him. “That’s love. That’s what you have.”
Finn didn’t miss a beat. “Maybe we have more to give.”
Leo stared at him. Again—what were they doing, tucked away from the crowds in this little set of steps, talking about this?
Logan was so quiet, had been so quiet the whole time, that Leo had to look at him. Logan Tremblay. In what world did Logan Tremblay look at him like this? Like he was about to sing the chorus of I See Red, or leave the stage for Rooftop. The expression on his face looked real enough. Leo had to admit that.
“I don’t trust people,” Logan said under Leo’s gaze. “But I trust you.” When Leo went to speak, Logan pressed a palm to his chest. “Don’t tell me what happened on the balcony was your job. It wasn’t.”
“No. That wasn’t,” Leo said softly.
“How about this,” Finn said. “Stay long enough to get everything for the piece.”
“And we haven’t played you any of the new album,” Logan cut in.
“Oh yeah, yeah,” Finn said. “Hey, that’s in the contract for your piece.” He smiled. “You get to hear three songs.”
Leo couldn’t help it. He laughed. “Are you bribing me with your music?”
“Not bribing,” Finn said. “I want to know what you think. Always.”
“We.”
“We want to know what you think,” Finn said. “And we never said a word to your editors about this being more than just a music story, so…” Finn tilted his head. “Technically, we can all renegotiate and you…You can ask for more time with us?” He looked so, so hopeful. “And maybe, just maybe, we can show you that we’re not under some love-sick spell cast by your outstanding professionalism.”
Leo’s laugh was real this time, and so sudden that he covered his mouth. “Cast my by professionalism?”
Finn grinned and untangled himself enough to stand up. He offered them both a hand. “Come on. Let’s take our time.”
God. Finn O’Hara and all of his perfect words. “Time sounds good.”
~
It wasn’t a hard sell. The second Finn and Logan’s people told Leo’s people just how big this story would be, Leo was basically told to stay put for now, and Finn and Logan were told to only talk to Leo about this until the story was out and couldn’t be leaked. Essentially, they were told to talk, work, write, and not leave.
That had been five days ago. Leo was now thoroughly sunned, oceaned, and thinking a whole lot about Logan’s hand on his chest, Finn’s on his ankle, and kissing.
They went to the market nearly every morning. Leo had made a, if he could say so himself, perfect peach pie with the fruit he’d bought—Logan had bought. They’d been to Logan’s raved about restaurant and Leo had gotten his cheeks kissed by no less than six waiters. Logan had been right. He’d never tasted food like that.
They’d walked down Logan’s cliffs and spend hours lounging in the shade and sun and diving into deep, clear water. Leo had tried not to stare at Finn’s marble-pale chest in the sun. Logan’s tan-line that drew itself oh-so low on his hips. In his notebook lay the phrase couple of fucking mermaids that wouldn’t make it into any sort of writing but it was true.
Each night, Logan built a fire and Finn brought out a special wine—now Leo had seen him spend a good forty minutes with the man who owned the wine shop in town. Apparently it was a hobby of Finn’s. The other night, Finn had brought out a small bottle that was sweet and amber colored—and his guitar. Leo had gotten his first new song.
“Okay,” Finn had said. “So, this is called—wait, do you want your notebook or anything?”
Leo, feeling like Christmas morning, shook his head. “No. I just want to listen.”
“Cool.” Finn bit his lip. “Okay, cool. Cool. So it’s called…” He was looking at Leo, hand flexing on the neck of his guitar. “Um.”
“Rouge,” Logan said, sounding bewildered.
“Counting,” Finn burst out, laughing a little. “No, it’s called Counting. Sorry. Okay. Here we go. It’s about—” Finn waved his pick at Logan. “That one.”
Leo laughed. “That one?”
Finn shook his head, grinning down at his guitar as he gave the strings a small twist to make sure it was in tune. “That stupidly handsome person right there.”
Logan rolled his eyes and leaned towards Leo. “Imagine it with big drums. Sounds soft now, that’s how he wrote it, but on stage, on the album, I’m all in.” Logan grinned at Leo and he looked like he did on stage when Finn made him laugh into his mic.
“I think I can do that,” Leo said.
Finn began to sing.
One big game of hide and seek.
Count to ten and come find me.
I’m in here waiting patiently.
Tucked away and so ready.
Ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen.
We’re okay just still counting.
I’ll hold you and you hold me.
Strike a match so we can see.
Don’t worry baby, I would count it all for you.
I’d count the miles, the minutes, the ways tried and true.
Five and six and seventeen,
I’d count mountains, towns, and streams,
Sneaking cracks on dark ceilings,
Motes of dust in sunlight gleams,
I would count most anything.
Leo forgot about the glass he was holding. He had to set it down. He leaned forward, towards the warm fire. Finn was perfect in its light. His dark red hair, the orange glow, the tan, scuffed up wood of his guitar. Leo spared a glance at Logan, who was already watching him. He didn’t look nervous like Finn. He looked relieved. As Leo watched, he let out a breath and nodded, biting back a smile. Finn’s eyes were closed, fingers quick on the guitar, the heel of his palm standing in place for what would be Logan’s beat.
Days
And months
And years
Of him,
Skin
And laughs
And sinking
In,
There a first for everythin’,
Listen up, he’s mine.
He’s
The Sun
I’m basking in
Crash
Into
His waves and swim
Fills me up right to my brim
If I overflow it’s fine.
Listen up, he’s mine—
I could build a shrine
I would pour the wine
Worship till I die
The god I recognize.
Leo was more than used to feeling breathless at Finn’s music, but this song sucked all the air from his lungs. He knew that counting. He knew the feeling of striking that match. He didn’t know what it was to be with someone through it, but he certainly knew.
Finn settled his guitar carefully on the couch when he was finished. He was all nervous energy, rubbing his hands together and fidgeting. He rose briefly and poured Leo more wine before settling back on the couch.
“So, there’s—yeah. What do you…” Finn trailed off.
“It’s beautiful,” Leo said. “It’s…If I overflow, it’s fine. I love that. I really love that, you—and the counting, that’s just perfectly true. That’s so true…” Leo felt his throat closing up and took a slow breath. “God, Finn. Both of you…It’s—I’ve always thought you walk this perfect line between sweet and…”
“And?” Logan asked when Leo trailed of.
Leo had only done so because he’d realized what he had been about to say. He’d already written about it, though, which meant Finn had already read it, so he might as well. “Well. Just—epic. It’s an epic love, it’s—sexy. That’s how you write it.”
“Hm.” Logan looked pleased.
“I hoped you would understand,” Finn said. “I mean, I knew you would.”
“This is your first song using him,” Leo said. “No French girls met on tour, no room for misunderstanding.”
Logan grumbled something about French girls into his wine cup and Finn reached over and pulled him into a sloppy sort of kiss. Logan let his face be smushed into an equally joyful kiss on his cheek.
“None,” Finn said. “No more of all that. We want to be clear. On everything.”
Leo sat back against the cushions. “Everything.”
“Ouais,” Logan said. “Everything.”
~
Nearing the end of their second week, Leo and Finn were swimming. Finn kept diving down and bringing Leo little treasures from the bottom. He had this funny pair of goggles that he wore to do it. He’d push them down around his neck and show Leo shells and interesting rocks before tossing them back under. His body looked cool and pale under the surface.
Finn kept surprising him. Maybe that showed on his face because, as they tread water, talking, Finn tilted his head and asked.
“What?” Finn said, dipping his mouth low into the salt water before rising again. “What’s with the face?”
Leo brought his legs forward to float more on his back, laughing. “Oh. Nothing.”
Finn splashed him. “What?” He swam closer until Leo could pick out new freckles on his slightly sunburned nose. “What, what, what?”
They were near the rocky ledges and Finn pointed out a spot that he probably knew well, where two people could sit on a natural ledge just beneath the water. The stone was rough, but it put them in the shade and the calm waves lapped around their chests.
“You’re just…” Leo pressed his lips together, smiling.
“Okay, I’m gonna like, dunk you or something if you don’t—”
“You’re kind of a—” Leo shrugged. “A dork.”
Finn’s face was too good not to laugh at.
“I’m a what?”
“A dork,” Leo said. “Completely.”
“Excuse me.” Finn leaned closer. “I am not.”
“A dork,” Leo sighed. “Pop star dork.” Finn squinted at Leo in the sun, smiling. He still had the goggles around his neck and Leo reached forward and hooked a finger in them. “See?”
Finn hummed noncommittally. He’d let Leo’s hand nudge them closer together.
“Well, I guess that’s all right, then.”
Finn skipped his hand along the water’s surface. It was almost too bright to look at directly with the sun coming off it like that, and Leo leaned back against the rock and the shade, keeping his eyes on Finn instead.
“So—possible article question for you,” he said. “If it’s all right?”
“Go for it.”
Leo touched a sparkling vein of mineral in the rock, tracing his finger down it. “What’s it like when you first play Logan a song like that one you played me?”
“Like…what? A love song?”
“Well, yeah, to put it lightly. But…Listen up, he’s mine, I could build a shrine, I would pour the wine, worship till I die, the god I recognize. Love song…does that begin to cover those lyrics?”
Finn laughed. “Wow. I played that for you once.”
“You’re pretty unforgettable.”
“Shucks.”
Leo drew one knee up to his chest. “It’s…There’s something like I See Red to it.”
“Logan wrote that mostly.”
“I know. Exactly. The way you talk about each other. It is like…intense, I don’t know. I just mean—here. I’ll ask it this way first. What went through your mind when Logan played I See Red for you the first time?”
“Mm.” Finn smiled at the memory. “You mean what happened after he told me he wants me all over him?”
Leo tried not to show how hot his body flashed, burning, even in the cool ocean. He rested his chin on his knee, then his mouth, just to hide the wavering sort of inhale he took.
“If—whatever you want to tell me,” Leo managed.
Finn mirrored Leo’s position—knee up, hands locked around his ankle. “How would you feel if someone played a song like that for you? About you.”
“That’s my question.”
“You first.”
Leo rolled his eyes.
“That’s right,” Finn said, propping his chin on his knee like Leo with a sly sort of grin. “I’m a difficult little rock star.”
“Oh, are you writing an article?” Leo laughed.
Finn’s brown eyes stayed sincere and playful. “I don’t write articles.”
Leo stared at him. Finn was visibly holding himself back, even if he was leaning forward and kept looking at Leo’s mouth. Leo had to remind himself that he’d asked him to. Finn wanted him. Finn still wanted him, that was obvious. His brown eyes were a little bit of fall right there in the summer sun. Leo kind of wanted to be kissed on this ledge in the ocean.
I don’t write articles.
“What’s that mean?” Leo asked faintly.
Finn considered him for another moment. “You said you’ve had…clients fall for you before.” Finn looked especially handsome asking a question in his little melodramatic way. Leo didn’t know what it was, but he did. “Ever had a song written about you?”
Okayokayokay. “No…”
“Hm.”
“Not that I know of.” Leo swallowed. He tasted salt on his lips. “Now you. You have to answer.”
“You didn’t answer.”
Leo sighed, smiling. “I…” He tried to clear his head. A song. Lyrics that were so all-consuming. “I would feel…”
He didn’t know. It was almost unimaginable.
He hesitated for long enough, cheek pressed to his knee now, that Finn copied him in that, too, and helped him.
“Timeless,” Finn said.
That gave Leo a word. “Immortal.”
Finn nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly.
Leo watched the sunlight play on Finn’s freckles. He was the picture of a high noon sun, and he was looking between Leo’s eyes and his mouth.
Neither of them saw the wave.
They got a face full of water to splutter through as it’s gentle crest went nearly over their heads, lifting them from their seat.
“They say every tenth one is the biggest,” Finn laughed. He put his goggles back on, grinned at Leo, and held up two thumbs up. “Lunch?”
He felt tan, and cool from the water as they made it back to the house. He didn’t bother washing the salt off his skin, just threw on a fresh pair of shorts and a t-shirt. He only realized when he glanced at himself in the mirror that he and Finn must have swapped on accident at the water’s edge. Instead of his plain white t-shirt, this one was white with a faded NASA logo on it. Leo’s pulse kicked up. He’d seen Finn wear this. On stage. Many times. It was famous on Instagram and Twitter. Replicas had been made. Girls wore copies of this t-shirt to their concerts.
Leo was standing here, wearing the original.
He took a breath before going back out to the living room.
Finn went off to write somewhere with his guitar, but Leo fixed him and Logan sandwiches and they settled in the living room, all of the doors flung wide. Logan was doing a puzzle. Leo had his notebook on his lap with a little section dedicated to transcribing the little murmurs of French Logan said as he worked. Not for the story, just for him. No, not there. This stupid blue. Wrong color. Ah, yes, here. This fits.
Leo sighed and dropped his pen, flexing his cramping hand.
“Ça va?” Logan asked from where he’d been frowning over two puzzle pieces. Leo was still getting over the sheer sweetness of the intense-on-stage-Logan he had known sitting in front of him for an hour and putting a puzzle together. Leo wasn’t sure what the picture would end up being. Logan refused to look at the box lid for reference. It was face-down beside him. Again, Leo sort of wanted to laugh at how he’d thought it would be an all-night party every night. Nope. Late morning coffee, farmer’s markets, cocktails, and puzzles. Much more his speed.
“Yeah, good,” Leo said. “My hand just cramps up if I write for too long. Hand write, at least.”
“Hm.” Logan set the pieces he was holding down and pushed himself up onto his knees. He walked himself over to the couch that way and sank back on his heels at Leo’s feet. He held out his hands. “Give to me.”
“I—what?” Leo asked.
Logan just made an impatient sound and reached for the hand that Leo had been stretching out. He arranged Leo’s hand palm up with his fingers flat but relaxed. Then Logan’s strong thumbs began pressing into the heel of Leo’s palm, smoothing down towards the inside of his wrist. He pressed near his elbow too—Leo hadn’t even realized it hurt there.
“It’s all connected, the wrist, the fingers, it goes all the way to the shoulder,” Logan said. His accent got a little stronger here and Leo almost wanted to ask him to say all that again. But then Logan was kneading at Leo’s shoulder just below his collarbone and—
“Oh,” Leo said faintly. “That feels…”
Logan smiled. “Je sais. Finn is even better at it, I make him do it to me all the time.”
Leo thought about the way Finn liked to come up behind him or Logan, and the way he squeezed their shoulders. If he was putting effort and purpose behind that…Yeah, it would be heavenly.
“I like your shirt,” Logan said teasingly.
“I guess we swapped.”
“Mm. Guess so.”
Leo just tilted his head to the side and let himself relax in Logan’s hands as he worked out the soreness. He hadn’t realized his eyes had closed until he felt Logan’s fingers slowing. Finally, they stilled, both cradling Leo’s hand again. He opened his eyes to see green staring back. Logan had settled very close on the couch, but maybe Leo had drawn him there, too, unconsciously pulling him closer to where it hurt so that he could make it better.
Logan rested a hand on his chest, just as he had at the market. His eyes darted down to Leo’s mouth. Logan had a perfect cupid’s bow. So perfect. Leo wanted to take it in his mouth and feel its dip.
He’d wanted that in the ocean, too. Finn had a freckle on his lip, just at the border where pale skin met pink, and Leo just…God, he wanted it.
“Leo,” Logan whispered.
“Yes,” Leo said, hearing the question Logan hadn’t yet asked.
“Just one,” Logan said. “Please. Is it okay?”
What else would Leo do other than nod. He was running out of willpower. These boys. These shell-diving, wine-enthusiast, puzzle-doing, grumpy in the morning boys. He worried he was smiling a little too much and tried to take a breath. Tried to steady himself. Logan pushed himself up onto the couch, kneeling with on knee down so that Leo’s body angled towards him. One of his hands went to Leo’s thigh, bunching the fabric of his shorts.
It was the softest kiss Leo had ever been given. Logan lingered in it, though. A soft, giddy intake of breath and the lightest of tugs at Leo’s bottom lip.
Leo’s hand went to his waist, to the very spot he had been dying to touch. Near the tattoo. And the cupid’s bow, he could feel it. And the way Logan held himself perfectly still, as if letting Leo control the whole thing. The problem was, Leo’s mind was forgetting almost everything he’d said just a few days ago.
Here, they were just two boys.
Logan made a soft sound in his throat when Leo tilted his chin up to kiss him harder. It parted his lips and Leo tested gently, but Logan let him right in. He tasted the mint tea Logan had been drinking—seemingly the only thing he took without sugar. Logan’s fingers curled and held onto Leo’s t-shirt. Finn’s t-shirt.
Here, there felt like there was all the room for him in the world, even if he didn’t understand why they wanted him to begin with.
Here, it didn’t seem to matter that he was a journalist and they his subjects.
Logan broke the kiss gently, but stayed close. The string that would break Leo’s resolve hadn’t snapped, but oh, was it ever threadbare. Logan could probably feel how fast Leo’s heart was pounding beneath his hand.
“Ça va?” Logan asked faintly.
Leo had to swallow hard to find his voice. “Mhm.”
Logan nodded, the motion bringing their foreheads to rest together. He shifted and let out a sigh.
Leo realized he’d tucked his hands up and under Logan’s shirt and he just had to look down for a glimpse of that tattoo.
He got a lot more.
Logan’s shorts were straining around his hips. Leo got turned on so fast, stars sparked around his vision. The shorts were linen. White. Barely anything. They buttoned, not zipped, and those buttons were trying to hold on.
“Sorry,” Logan whispered.
“No,” Leo managed to say. He sounded weird to himself. “It’s—you’re fine. Very fine.”
“I just…” Logan laughed a little. He cupped a palm to Leo’s face briefly before pulling away. He flashed him a bashful smile as he turned back to sit on the couch. “Là, I mean, look at you. I’m…d’accord. I don’t mean to…”
Leo needed to say something more. He needed to say something not stupid. Something other than I’m pretty sure I’m dreaming right now.
“We’re taking our time,” Logan said. He took Leo’s hand and squeezed.
“I—no, we are,” Leo said. But if you wanted to sit on my lap right fucking now—
“Ouais,” Logan said. He was breathing slow, like he was trying to will himself to calm down. “Okay, so I will—be right back?”
They both kind of dissolved into laughter at that. Logan sat next to him, rubbing his hands over his face.
“Merde. Does this go into the piece?”
Leo had to stop laughing long enough to say, “In the middle of doing a puzzle, Tremblay had to be right back—”
Logan let out one of his free laughs and reached over blindly to shove at Leo’s knee. “Hey, take a look at yourself. You’re just as bad.”
Leo was trying very hard not to think about himself.
Logan rose, face flushed, and jerked his head towards the puzzle. “See if you can figure out that hellish thing over there.”
Leo watched as he disappeared through the doorway. Leo didn’t know if he was going to find Finn to help or go somewhere on his own to—well, fix it or calm down. Both thoughts sent Leo’s body aching. He had to lean his head back on the couch and breathe. He reached down and tried to make himself more comfortable, but it didn’t help.
He picked his notebook back up. He flexed his hand and picked up his pen. No use. He closed his notebook. He looked at Logan’s puzzle.
He took a deep breath, slid himself to the floor, and set about fitting a couple pieces into place.
~
Leo got called back the next morning via an email with airline tickets attached for the following morning. Apparently endless time equated a week more. Rather, Leo would be sent back out to a show when their tour started back up to write a follow-up snippet on what it was like playing shows as a couple.
But it left Leo a little frantic and disoriented. It left Logan and Finn staring at him with faces that were almost mournful when he broke them the news over morning coffee.
Logan punched Finn’s arm. “Be a difficult little rock star.”
Finn arched a brow at Leo. “Can I?”
Leo smiled, tempted to take Finn up on it, but he knew it was probably no good. He was supposed to be with them for a week. It’d been almost three. His boss would want their story polished and published, and Leo back in the office.
Only now here he was. His last night in this perfect place, unable to sleep.
The sleeplessness wasn’t new to him. He’d had insomnia ever since he could remember. It was only that it was here. He’d never slept so well in his life as he had these past few weeks.
It could have been worse. At least with all the extra space and the crashing waves, he didn’t feel worried about waking anyone up as he made himself some tea in the kitchen before trying to lull himself back to sleep by proofreading. Nothing exhausted him like proofreading.
He rubbed at his eyes as the kettle heated. He didn’t want to go. He didn’t feel like he had an old life. This felt like his life. Waking up and Logan making him that perfect bitter sweet espresso. Finn’s music all day long, soft plucks on the guitar, humming as they read together on the dock. Finn coming to peak over his shoulder while he was writing, stealing his pen out of his hand and adding seemingly random words. Blue!! Sunny!! Dazzle!!
The morning markets. Logan’s almond pastry. Puzzles and movies and how did he get here? Oh God, how did he love the hours of the day so much?
“Fancy meeting you here.”
Leo jumped hard, eyes flashing open as he turned. Finn was standing there in a well-loved t-shirt that said New York Rangers. He had his hands in the pockets of his cotton pajama pants and was smiling sheepishly.
“Sorry.”
Leo laughed, hand on his chest. “No, me. I mean, I’m sorry. You startled me. What are you doing awake?”
Finn raised his eyebrows. “What are you doing?”
“Lord, am I a hopeless sleeper,” Leo said. “I’ve been getting up at one in the morning and staying awake until three for as long as I can remember.”
“Oh.” Finn frowned. “That sucks, I’m sorry.”
“I’m used to it. What about you?”
Finn shrugged. “I think I heard you.”
“Fuck.” Leo felt his shoulders slump. “I’m so sorry.”
“No, no, no,” Finn said. “I was kind of already awake.” He paused and leaned his hands on the cool stone counter between them. “Was thinking about you leaving.”
“Yeah,” Leo said. “Me too.”
“You really have to go?”
“You have to go, too,” Leo said. “You’re kind of on a world tour, you know.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Finn said. “Sorry, I’ve been doing more important things lately.”
Leo smiled. “Oh…I don’t know about that.”
Finn gave him this unconvinced look as he rounded the kitchen counter. He looked like he was on stage all of a sudden. Something about his walk. The daring look in his eye. Like he was about to say something to a crowd that was sure to get a reaction.
He stopped right next to Leo and crossed his arms, looking at him. Unlike Logan, they were almost eye-to-eye. Finn’s smile brought heat from Leo’s chest to his hips.
“I hear Logan got a kiss.”
That heat spread out farther. His cheeks. His neck. Finn’s eyes darted over his face like he was watching it.
“He did,” Leo said. Oh God, please kiss me.
Finn clicked his tongue like it was a shame. “Would’ve liked to see it, gotta say.”
Leo laughed a little. “Honestly, me too.”
Finn bit his lip. He was sort of smiling, but there was something else there, too. It was half hidden in the dim kitchen.
“Is it…Is it that you like one of us better?” A flicker of insecurity. “Because if—”
Leo pushed his hands against Finn’s chest. Stopping him. Holding him there. Brown eyes, bed-head, skin still salty from the sea. Leo had always loved Finn O’Hara. But Finn. This Finn was something else. This Logan… All of those fans didn’t even have a clue.
Leo couldn’t stand that hurt look on Finn’s face. He curled a hand behind Finn’s neck and pulled him closer. Like he’d wanted to in the ocean. Like he’d wanted to every time he heard him sing.
“Finn, I like both of you so much, it scares me.”
“Then…” Finn leaned closer, dropping his voice to hardly a whisper, so quiet that Leo more felt the words brush his own lips than he heard them. “Don’t I get a kiss, too? Before you go? Feeling a little left out over here—”
Leo didn’t let him finish. He pushed forward and kissed him.
His world went perfectly silent.
Oh. Leo grabbed onto Finn’s broad shoulders. Oh, oh, oh, Finn O’Hara could kiss. Oh, Finn could kiss, he could kiss, he kissed Leo like he would never breathe again and Leo felt himself sink. His chin tilted up, his body fell into Finn’s, and Finn took it. Finn held him.
He pressed harder against Finn’s body. Finn made a soft sound when his back hit the counter and his hands smoothed down Leo’s back, cupping his hips.
Finn managed to get out, “Are you—” before Leo was kissing him again.
“Yes,” Leo said. “Yes, yes…”
This was not Logan’s restraint. Not a single kiss. This was the sugar in Finn’s songs, the sugar that always applied to Logan in Leo’s mind. But Finn’s kiss was so all-consuming that it occurred to Leo that some of that sweetness had to belong to him. God, what could Logan do when he wasn’t holding back?
It took Leo a moment to figure out what sound was pulling at his mind and interrupting him. A strange, high-pitch—
“Shit,” Leo mumbled. “Tea, tea, tea.”
Finn didn’t even break away, though. He reached out a hand and flicked the stove off to stop the kettle from whistling.
The renewed silence rung in Leo’s ears. Finn’s palm was rubbing up and down Leo’s back.
Suddenly, Finn was hugging him tightly. His chin was tucked into Leo’s neck and Leo’s hand went to his hair automatically. That famous hair. Red and thick and soft. Leo turned his nose into it.
“You have our numbers,” Finn whispered. “And you know where we’ll be.” His brown eyes looked pleading when he pulled back. “You will choose a show, won’t you? Choose a show and come see us. The article will be out. I know there’s the follow up but—We’ll just be three people.”
Just three people. Leo thought of those little dressing rooms. That New York apartment. This place. But the fear was still there. Three people. Leo didn’t care what strangers thought. He cared about the aftermath of losing them, though. If he lost them…
Finn read it all on his face and he took Leo’s cheeks in his palms. He kissed him—this was closer to Logan’s gentle kiss.
“Come to a show and find out how much I want this,” Finn said. “Okay? Promise me. Or do I have to wake up grumpy and get him to tell you because he’ll probably just burrow in and not let you leave. Ever.” A brush of Finn’s nose against Leo’s. “He’s all about that kind of thing these days.”
Leo’s laugh spilled out, too much and too giddy for the night, but he didn’t mind. When he made to pull back, just a little, Finn took his arms and put them back around his neck. Leo couldn’t help his shiver as Finn’s palms ran down his sides and Finn pressed another smiling kiss to his mouth.
“If you wake him, I really will never leave,” Leo whispered. “And I do have to go.”
“Then promise me.”
Leo closed his eyes. He was so sure he’d be able to sleep just fine if Finn kept holding him like this.
Thank you for the fantastic prompts and the amazing fest. And, of course, thank you to @lumosinlove for these wonderful characters.
Here’s the fifth part of Starboys, a Cubs Formula One AU.
Prompts: Party, Surprise visit
Links to: Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Ao3
•••
Down for the ride
Leo had lost count of the number of planes he’d taken in the past months, always on the run for any opportunity to fly home to his family, or just to follow the team around. But it was never on a private jet—much to the dismay of his miles-long legs—or with such good company.
According to the radar on screen, they were flying over Kuala Lumpur. A quick look out the window took Leo's breath away, stunned by the still disbelieving feeling of being on top of the world, with the sun sinking behind an endless field of cottony clouds.
It looked like the sunset in Milan had a couple of weeks earlier—warm and magical—from a terrace overlooking the skyline of an already quiet city. That night, they were supposed to attend the annual party in Monza after the Italian Grand Prix, but Logan had come up with a better plan to celebrate his victory, and perhaps to cheer Finn up a bit.
They had ended up in the fanciest bar Leo had ever set foot in, tucked away at a table out of sight, bathed in the late summer breeze that pleasantly cooled the open space. Leo had felt pampered and maybe out of place, but never within their conversations and their warm smiles. Not with Logan reassuring him that he deserved all that and more, nor with Finn making him feel freer than ever before, in a way he’d never experienced with someone he barely knew.
Finn O’Hara, whose Italian was fluent enough to order the finest wines Leo had ever tasted, and to chat casually with a group of fans they had run into—who had also congratulated Logan and Leo on the good race.
Finn, who was now relaxed in the chair opposite him, obviously lost in the pages of his book, barely moving from time to time, except to push his glasses up his freckled nose.
When Leo glanced at him furtively, their eyes met, and so did their smiles.
"Everything okay?" Finn said.
Leo tilted his head and peeked across the aisle at Logan. "Does he always sleep this much?"
Logan was wrapped in a very warm looking blanket, long since fallen into a deep sleep. Finn's laugh was teasing, but he was looking at Logan with nothing but affection.
Leo had seen that look before. Never in public, where insatiable eyes were constantly on the hunt—for an autograph, a selfie in the best case, otherwise ready to catch a breaking scoop. It had been there the night before, back in Leo's humble apartment, where they had all sheltered after an exhausting day at the Silver factory.
I'll get something good for dinner, Finn had offered. I got you.
Leo had seen Finn wearing new shades of that lopsided smile, so private, something he probably kept to himself and the few he trusted. How he got lucky enough to witness it, Leo couldn't say.
"Rarely," Finn answered his question. "We usually have very strict routines for flights like this one, so we don't get jet lagged."
"And which one of you is breaking the rules today?"
Finn pointed a finger in Logan's direction. "The baby will get all grumpy at the party if he doesn't nap."
That made Leo giggle, but then something urgent and completely unrelated came out of his mouth. "Thank you, Harzy."
Finn's face lost its playfulness, but it was nonetheless bright when he hummed questioningly.
"I don't know..." Leo laughed softly. "I'm just... happy. Yeah. Glad I met you two."
Leo didn't know what surprised him more. He had imagined Finn making a joke, telling him that he was being silly. He certainly hadn't expected to see him still, his cheeks turning a soft shade of pink as he tried to mouth words he apparently couldn't let go of.
"Oh boy," Leo's jaw dropped. He raised an eyebrow at Finn's flattered look. "Did I just leave Finn O'Hara speechless?"
Silently, Finn closed his book and sat up straighter, shaking his head dramatically. "Nutty, Nutty, Nutty..."
"That's me."
Finn leaned his elbows on the tray table between them, his brown eyes—beautifully bruising—locked with Leo's blue. "There's no way you can shut me up," he said, dead serious. "You'll never stand a chance."
"Is that a challenge?" Leo bit back.
Finn shot him a sly wink, "Please, be my guest."
Leo didn't miss a beat. He mirrored his position, dizzy head supported by his hands, impossibly close to Finn's impassive face.
Could Finn see his fast pulse pounding hard against his throat or was it just a feeling?
"Looking forward to it, O'Hara.”
A moment passed, filled only by the insistent roar of the plane's engines. And then they burst out laughing, so uncontrollably that Leo had to wipe tears from his own eyes as he leaned back in the seat. He watched as Finn muffled his loud laughter behind big, strong hands, shoulders still shaking as he tried to control himself.
"What the hell are you laughing at?" a sleepy voice grumbled, and a flying pillow hit Leo's head.
"Ouch," Leo laughed louder.
Logan groaned from where he was propped on one forearm, his dark curls a mess, glaring at them with just one half-open eye. "Weirdos."
"C'mon Sleeping Beauty." Finn reached out to grab the pillow from Leo's lap and tossed it back to Logan. "It's almost time for Nut's first night out in Singapore."
It was another one of Leo's dreams to cross off the list.
In less than an hour, he'd be wandering the busy streets of Marina Bay, the same ones that once a year were transformed into a spectacular circuit—probably Leo's favorite on the calendar.
It was captivating in so many ways. The race was held at night, on a track that wound its way through downtown Singapore with a combination of low and high speed corners, making it one of the most twisty and challenging for the drivers—and exciting for the spectators to watch.
Leo wondered if it would look like it did on TV, a spectacle of lights from the city skyline and the circuit itself, painting a stunning backdrop against the dark sky.
"Oh sweetheart," Eloise Knut cooed over the phone. "I bet it's going to be even better than you ever imagined. I'm so proud of you."
Leo's lips curled into a smile, pure and wistful. "Wish you were here."
"We miss you too, honey," she said softly. "Time’s not moving fast enough. How long till Austin? Two weeks?"
"Yeah," the excitement in her voice made Leo laugh. "I can't wait."
"Ready for tonight?" his dad nearly shouted. Leo could picture them sitting together at the kitchen counter, the phone on speaker at full volume.
"I think so." Leo gazed at himself in the mirror of his hotel room. Unruly curls aside—still drying after a much-needed shower—Leo thought he looked good. He ran a hand down the silky white button-down, tucked neatly into his tailored navy pants. The sleeves were loose on his wrists, and Leo reached down to button the cuffs, cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder to free his hands. "I'm just waiting for Logan to text me when he's ready."
"Logan, as in... Logan Tremblay," Eloise guessed.
Leo felt caught off guard. "Yes?"
There was a pause. "Huh."
"What?" Leo crouched down near the suitcase to find the bow tie.
"Oh, nothing," she said casually. "Nothing, sweetheart."
"Mama."
"Have fun tonight," Eloise subtly avoided the topic. "And send me some pictures!"
Leo's deep sigh was a bit exasperated. He had told them everything about the last few weeks, about having Finn and Logan over for dinner. He had been thrilled to even say out loud that he had friends he felt he could trust, and talk to endlessly. But something in that huh hinted that she had clearly sensed more than that.
"I love you both." He let it all slide. It wasn't the right time, and frankly, he wasn't even sure what to say. "I'll call you soon."
–
Singapore Airlines was hosting an exclusive Grand Prix opening party. Big sponsors usually meant big events, and people were already speculating about all kinds of crazy things online.
"Marketing strategies," Logan explained. They stepped out of his car, provided by the team for the week—a recently released gem from Silver Motors, artfully customized in matte green to match the colors of Logan's racing helmet. With a quick smile and a confident nod, Logan handed the keys to the valet and led Leo to the grand entrance of the venue. "It's basically a business meeting," he said. "A shit ton of handshakes, pictures for the print..."
"Yeah, with an open bar, tremendous food, music and friends..." Leo scoffed. "It can't be that awful."
Logan was about to reply when he froze on the spot. A redhead, who Leo swore looked like Finn, was walking toward them, arm in arm with a girl. Bronze skin, chocolate brown waves tied up perfectly in a high ponytail. Leo knew it when she was close enough, as thick, long lashes fluttered open to reveal emerald green eyes. Logan's.
"Ugh, the enemies are here," the man's snarky remark was punctuated by a familiar grin, earning him a quick slap on the shoulder from his companion.
"That's my little brother you're talking about, O'Hara."
Her accent, also Logan's.
"Okay, what's going on?" Logan huffed an incredulous laugh.
"Salut," the girl leaned forward to press a tender kiss to Logan's cheek before holding out her hand to Leo. "We finally meet," she said warmly. "I'm Noelle, Logan's–"
"Sister, yeah," Leo laughed bashfully. "Leo Knut, it's a pleasure to meet you." Leo's gaze shifted to a stubbled, freckled face and golden brown eyes. "And you must be..."
"Alex," the redhead shook his hand firmly. "I'm the better-looking O'Hara."
Well… Not exactly true, Leo thought. But he clearly had a point.
"What are you doing here?" Logan playfully shoved Alex. "Why didn't you tell us you were coming?"
"Supportive sibling duties, Tremblay," Alex threw an arm around Logan's shoulder. "And we haven't been to a race together in ages."
That made Logan smile. "What about the tickets? How did you–"
"Celeste," Noelle said as if it meant something obvious. "She arranged everything, of course. It was very short notice, and we thought..." She and Alex exchanged a meaningful look. "We thought we should make it a surprise."
Leo watched Alex's jaw clench, a hard, bitter bite on the inside of his cheek. He swallowed hard before asking, "Where's Fish?"
"He just texted me," Logan put his phone back in his pocket. "He's waiting inside."
Finn's expression was priceless when they found him. He broke off his conversation with James and his wife Lily mid-sentence and, in the blink of an eye, his eyebrows knitted together, a gleaming grin spread across his face, eyes wide, and then his lips quivered slightly as he all but threw himself into his brother's waiting arms. A couple of flashes lit up the dim room, greedily capturing the moment.
They got less than ten minutes of peace before a woman in a fitted black jumpsuit and high heels came to fetch Logan and Finn, asking for a quick interview with a representative from Richard Mille, one of the few sponsors they shared.
Leo looked between Alex and Noelle and smiled nervously. He wasn't sure what to do, he didn't want to be rude. Was he intruding? He probably should have left them alone.
But Alex wouldn't let him.
"The man of the moment," he said, placing a firm hand on Leo's shoulder. "Let's get something to drink, shall we?"
Soft jazz and low yellow lights warmed the ambience. Waiters danced around groups of chatting people, flawlessly carrying full trays of gold-filled crystal glasses.
Smooth tequila burned its way down Leo's throat. The zesty smell of lime and the rough grains of salt between his lips brought back bittersweet memories of fading tastes on his mouth that Leo rushed to wash away with another swig of his Margarita.
When, when, when would he finally let it go?
Meet me later, Le?
Alex and Noelle sat on the L-shaped couch across from him. They both looked stunning, Alex in his dark blue suit, tie already gone, and Noelle in a white halterneck dress that made her tan skin glow. Straight out of a James Bond movie, the two of them. And Leo didn't quite know what to do with himself.
"Okay, I'm gonna tell you this in confidence," Alex began. "I know I'm supposed to be on the other team's side, but..." He sipped at his whiskey, dark and neat, and leaned forward to put the glass back on the small marble table between them. "That call in Monza? Fucking amazing, man."
"Mhm," Noelle agreed. She nodded over the rim of her glass of sparkling wine. "And how you managed to get Lolo to listen to you, now that I'd really like to know."
"He's got a reputation, huh?" Lolo. Leo couldn't help but laugh, face burning, remembering all the times he'd heard Logan's voice on TV, the scratchy team radios, making it a point to show his disagreement with any team strategy he didn't approve of.
"You bet," a wry grin curled her full, red lips.
"You work in motorsports too, right?" Leo asked Alex. He was pretty sure he'd read his name on some article about the recent 24 Hours of Le Mans. "How come you chose the WEC instead of Formula One?"
"Oh, y'know..." Alex breathed out a weak laugh, eyes dark, just as Noelle turned to look at him. "Right opportunity at the right time," he smiled at Leo. "Fish always insists, but... Maybe someday. For now, I enjoy being able to sleep in my bed for more than a week a month."
Curiosity got the better of Leo, and the three of them ended up discussing the ins and outs of the World Endurance Championship, getting fascinating insights from the perspective of a front-page journalist. Alex seemed as caught up in the conversation as Leo was, telling him stories about his experiences in a way that reminded Leo of Finn, ever so enthusiastic when talking about something he loved.
Leo sank into their tales, too distracted to notice two blond heads moving in their direction. He caught Natalie's smirk just as she stood two steps away from the couch, behind Alex's back.
"So you actually listen to me, Freckle," she said as she reached out to pinch at Alex's waist. "I told you that blue would suit–"
Alex turned and Natalie went pale.
"...you. Jesus Christ." Her eyes widened comically, and a dark flush quickly spread from her cheeks down to her bare collarbones. She blinked twice, lips moving tentatively, until she called out in a barely there voice to Kasey, who was behind her, biting his bottom lip to suppress a full blown laugh. "Babe?"
Alex stared at her, suddenly speechless. Noelle had her eyes on Kasey, her mouth drawn into a thin line.
"Yes?" Kasey managed.
"There's two of them."
Kasey let himself laugh. "Just the wrong O'Hara, hon." The tension of the moment broke when Alex let out an amused laugh that was impossible to resist. He stood, holding out his hand to squeeze hers, and properly introduced himself.
Then, one in front of the other, Alex and Kasey hesitated. Leo thought they looked lost, and perhaps a little scared. But when Kasey pulled Alex into a tight hug, Leo could read the words you came on Kasey's trembling lips.
–
It was a roller coaster of emotions. A whole new beginning, new people, possibilities, discoveries. And now this.
Two sets of beautiful eyes stood out in the crowd, scanning every corner of the room until they found the source of their beaming grins. Two souls forever tied together, impossibly kind, generous. Surreal.
They moved in sync, elegantly, sharing a swift glance that spoke volumes. And then they were there, right in front of Leo. Strong shoulders pressed together, shiny black and dark green fabrics shimmering in the low light. Surreal.
Having fun without us, Nut?
The music grew louder, people began to move to the improvised dance floor—Alex, Natalie, and Kasey; Remus and Lily; Noelle with a rather flattered Thomas Walker—and Leo felt his world stop, a sudden brake in the middle of a high-speed ride.
Leo wanted to know what analytical, practical or rational thought could explain what was happening to him.
Why did everything feel so easy with those two?
A hard-earned life made of numbers, methodical strategies, and considered decisions, cautious. And now something unknown was pushing Leo to his limits.
"So," he managed to say. "What do you guys feel like?"
Another look, another unspoken agreement. Finn lit up in ten different shades of charm, his signature smirk on his lips, and pressed one hand on Leo's back, the other on Logan's.
Leo had promised himself that he would be careful. He needed things to be under his full control this time.
But there it was, the fire, the rush of adrenaline. This new feeling of sprinting through the narrowest streets at 150 miles per hour and not being in danger.
Leo looked between them, holding his breath.
"Let's go dance," Finn said, and Leo went, full throttle, because it felt right, and he wanted to trust himself more than anything else in the world.
hello and welcome to my work for O'Knutzy Week 2024! This is the second part of last year's Cubs in Italy fic, always for the Fest. all characters belong to @lumosinlove and thanks to @oknutzy-week-2024 for organizing the Fest! read it on ao3 here.
Finn scrunched his nose as he felt something tickling him. He stirred, but resumed his light nap.
It was so easy to be lulled back into sleep, there. The cicadas and waves singing together outside. The warm sun of the evening coming in dots from the blinds. The memory of tanned bodies against the white sheets, pressing into his, everywhere, surrounding him. Surrendering to them.
Something tickled him again.
He squinted one eye open.
“And what are you doing, exactly?”
Leo smiled. “I’m counting your freckles.”
Finn huffed out a laugh, stirring and turning to face a warm, naked Leo. The old bed creaked a bit—Finn didn’t remember if it had been creaking before last night. Oh, well.
“You’re counting my freckles in the dark,” he repeated.
“By now I know exactly where they are.”
“Italy is making you cheesy, Butter.”
“Italy is making your jokes even worse, Harzy.”
Finn yawned and made a noise half-stretch and half come here, you. He pulled Leo close by the waist, smiling at the ceiling as he felt kisses pressed on his neck.
“Happy birthday, sweetheart.”
A happy sound vibrated in his chest, against the trail of kisses Leo was tracing. Finn’s hand found curls soft with sea water and the sun. He could feel himself warming up and hardening. Words went blurry in his mind and dry in his throat.
“You…you already wished me a happy birthday.” He closed his eyes as the stairway to heaven Leo was working on headed down, down. “Many times. It’s, what, seven pm?”
Crystal blue water looked up at him behind heavy eyelids. “And I’ll keep saying it as many times as I want.”
Finn smiled at the ceiling, pressing his hand harder amid golden, sunshine curls.
Happy birthday to me, indeed.
…
“There you are.”
Logan looked up from the rope he was undoing, one foot on the ground and one on their motorboat.
Because they had a motorboat. In Italy. Leo had rented a motorboat in Italy and took them around wonderful coasts full of mesmerising, colourful villages that, Finn swore, had escaped from ancient paintings. Finn loved his life.
“There you are! You left me to prepare the boat by myself.”
Finn wanted to argue that he wouldn’t have been of much help anyways—not with that task anyway. He wasn’t Leo. But all tentatives of defence died a sweet death as his eyes stilled on Logan.
Logan looked…obscenely Logan. Finn felt a warm feeling settling in his stomach. He’s mine. My man. The tan on his forearms completed the masterpiece that were his full lips and dark curls, longer in their off-season glory, pushed back by black sunglasses. Leo’s fingers had looked heartbreaking in between those curls.
This vacation turned my already gorgeous boyfriends into Greek gods.
Finn found he couldn’t help but stare at the way tanned biceps tightened against the short sleeves of Logan’s linen shirt. He hummed in agreement to whatever Logan had said.
A sun-kissed smile mirrored his, and a scoff.
“Ça va pas.”
“Shaa-vah-pat.”
“Non.”
Logan didn’t protest any further once Finn got close enough for their lips to brush. His hands flattened the cotton of Finn’s own, blue shirt as he pushed more into the hands covering his hips. Logan hummed, hands stilling on Finn’s chest for a moment.
My man.
“Were you being horny with Leo without me?”
“I was barely being anything, he did it all by himself.”
“Whatever you say,” Logan laughed. He passed his finger under Finn’s eye a few times. “Sunscreen. Right here.”
He kissed that spot, as if to seal the protection.
…
The sun, low and heavy and orange, was about to meet the sea at the horizon. It would ignite the water, and for just a few, blissful seconds everything around them would turn golden. They’d watched the sunset every day of their week in Italy, and then two days more—Leo and Logan still hadn’t told Finn why they’d decided to postpone their return flight home. Just trust us, chéri. Don’ you like it here? Finn liked it too much, that was the problem. The sight of his boyfriends’ hands dangling in between them as they explored narrow, cobblestone streets could never tire him. The face Leo made every time he tried a different kind of pasta at the little restaurant on the beach. Logan’s arms around his neck as they played and danced in the water.
Sublime.
Finn caressed the clean, blue surface with his fingers. His tears had mixed with the Mediterranean Sea, years ago, miles away. It held memories and hurt. He could see it in Logan, too—the night the two of them took a walk on the shores, he could see it. Logan remembered. He’s kissed Finn’s hand, his check, his eyes. Oh, mon Rouge...they’d held each other in the water, in silence. Fearless, and listening to their deafening love. That, too, had been sublime.
Finn placed his romance novel down, using the ticket from the nearby focaccia bakery as bookmark. He stared at the pink sky for a total of six seconds before turning to look at where Leo and Logan were snuggling despite the heat, swimsuits still dripping.
My men.
“We could buy a house here, you know. For summer. Look at all those nice villas.”
Leo smiled from under his hat—Logan’s hat. “You’ll be the next poet in the bay, eh cher?”
Finn shrugged. “I’m just saying. It’s not far from Nice, and it’s beautiful. We could bring our families here. It’s not like we don’t have the possibilities.” I want you here always.
Logan left a kiss on the goalie’s neck. “Rouge, you say the same thing about every place we visit.”
“Uhm, yeah, because we visit dope places!”
He got up, careful to the balance game that was standing on a boat with waves lapping at the sides. Logan and Leo made the identical, happy sound the moment Finn found his way on Leo’s chest.
“You two bring me to dope places.”
“Ouais.”
“That we do.”
“He loves us, Peanut.”
“Yeah, he does.”
Finn started playing with Leo’s fingers. “You still haven’t told me why we’re spending my birthday here, though.”
“You’ll see it, Harzy.”
They stilled as the sun disappeared in one last, fire glow. Finn pressed a kiss on every finger.
Leo kissed his head. “You’ll see it very soon.”
…
Notte di San Lorenzo.
Saint Lawrence’s night.
There was an actual scientific explanation behind the fame of that night—a meteor shower, the Perseids, so many shooting stars to lose count. An occasion to lay down and look at the night sky for every Italian. Leo, in his mind, thanked again the lady who’d explained him the tradition. Sir, ma no, you can’t leave so soon. You have to stay here for the 10th of august! It’s the night of shooting stars!
He turned to look at the nest of pillows and blankets Finn and Logan were laying on, heads close and legs intertwined.
And what better way to celebrate a birthday.
Leo turned off the motor and looked around—nothing but dark water, and the dim lights of a village in the distance. They wouldn’t miss the show.
“Butter, come here.”
The boat rocked back and forth as Leo took his place at Finn’s side. A kiss found him before he could even lay down. He knew his smile would find them even in the dark. He could feel Finn’s on his skin, Logan’s in the air. And it would have been perfect and enough like that, Leo thought. Without the shooting stars, the birthday cake and candles hidden in a basket under the steering wheel. They would have been perfect in every universe.
Finn gasped.
“Did you—guys, did you see that?” An incredulous laugh. “Guys, that was…”
“Try to keep count, Rouge,” Logan said, leaning on the redhead’s shoulder. “I’ll race you.”
Leo’s smile grew as Finn looked at him and Logan in confusional awe. “What…”
All three of them saw the next shooting star, and they laughed together. A hand found Leo’s and gripped hard. Finn’s voice faltered.
“Babies…”
Leo brought the knuckles to his lips. “They say the stars are the tears of a saint.”
Another gasp. Another flash cutting the deep, dark sky. Another grip of hands.
…
The reverent silence in front of the celestial show was only interrupted by did you see that one? And wow’s. The I love you were part of the whole thing, really. Finn only moved to fish the notebook he’d been writing poetry on from his sack. Leo glimpsed a single line; every shooting star feels like a kiss and every kiss feels like a shooting star.
Logan had gotten up to prepare the cake when Leo felt a finger tracing his cheek.
“Can I keep you here forever?” Finn whispered.
Leo leaned into his palm, looking up at the soft, open eyes on him.
“Harzy, didn’t you want to jump into the water, too?”
“I meant in this moment. I want this moment to last forever.” I never want you to disappear. I don’t want to bat my eyes. I’d lose too much.
…
Sublime.
The way Finn and Leo bent to look better at colorful stones embedded in gold and silver rings made something to Logan’s heart. Something huge and scary and wonderful. Sublime.
That was the world that Finn had repeated so many times in the last few days. A feeling associated with the strong emotion we feel in front of intense natural phenomena, he’d explained. Apparently, Romantic poets were obsessed with it. Logan could relate. One could have thought it was the closeness to nature, or the thirty-something poems on the sublime Finn had read to them just that morning. But no. Logan found that it was just another name for the huge wave of feelings that overwhelmed him every time he stared at his boys for too long. Love and fear and passion and everything in between.
He looked at Finn pointing at an ocean blue stone in a golden band, excited. He looked at Leo nodding as he gently pried Finn’s finger from the glass, and fingerprints appeared in the light.
He made a small run to stop them from looking further in the little shop, one of many in the colorful, busy little street in the village. There was no point in buying rings now—not when two small boxes had been sitting at the bottom of his bag for weeks now.
Many thanks to @lumosinlove for her lovely characters. @oknutzy-week-2024 was my first one. Below's a summary of my fics!
I'll Call You by Mine. - (E) SW AU. Logan and Finn meet Finn's rookie year. Logan has a different path to the NHL. Prompt: Purple.
Place Differential -(M) NASCAR AU. Logan Tremblay spends his life racing away from things. France, Formula 1, and Finn in no particular order. (WIP). Prompt: Racing
The Afterparty - (E) Logan wears a crop top. It gets the point across. Prompt: "Good Morning to Me."
Dream after Dream after Dream - (T) A follow up to my other fic Clancy both of which focus on the cubs after retirement. While Clancy is about Leo. Dream is about Finn. Who...struggles to find his place post-NHL. Prompt: Changes.
You Look Like You Want Me to Want You to Come on Home - (M) What if they were farmers? Prompt: "Hello there."
Labor of Love - (T) The cubs navigate domestic labor division. A follow up to Bedroom Politics and part of an ongoing series about domestic polyamory situations. Prompt: Chores
Thank you all so much for a wonderful O’Knutzy Week! Of course, I know folks are busy and maybe couldn’t post last week but if you are still able to post please feel free to tag this blog for a reblog!
And of course, thank you to @lumosinlove for their incredible characters and the wonderful stories they have given us!
So I attempted a thing, and I can’t believe I actually got it done in time for O’Knutzy Week.
Title: What Did You Do?
Prompt: Column B- B1 Romance Novels, B2 Vacation, B3 Surprise Visit, B4 Babbyyyyy and B5 Good Morning to Me
CW for Food, squint and you might miss it joke about weight, General Vaincre Spoilers
Big thanks to @oknutzy-week-2024 for organizing this amazing week, and always huge thanks to @lumosinlove for the characters and this world we get to play in.
Leo woke because the bed was vibrating. Confused, he cracked open one eye to see it wasn’t the bed, exactly, that was vibrating. Finn was perched on the edge of the bed, struggling to contain his excitement while Leo slept.
“Oh! Hey Sunshine! You’re awake! We have to leave in 45 minutes.”
Leo blinked rapidly. “Leave? Finn, it’s the week before training camp starts. We don't have to be anywhere until we go to the hardware store this…” he trailed off, staring at Finn and his poorly concealed grin. He narrowed his eyes. “Finn. What did you do?”
“Me? Do something?” Finn asked innocently. Then he clapped his hands once. “Now up! We’ve got a day ahead of us.”
Leo ran through his morning routine faster than usual, then found Finn in the living room. Finn was sitting on the couch, finishing up his coffee, with two small, overstuffed duffle bags on the seat next to him, and a mischievous look on his face. “Ready Butter?”
“I guess so? Finn, what’s-”
“Great!” Finn clapped his hands again and rubbed them together. He jumped up, but as he grabbed the two duffles, a smaller canvas tote next to his foot slid to the floor. “OH! I can’t believe I almost forgot!” He handed the bag to Leo. “For entertainment and nourishment during our travels.”
Leo peeked in the bag. There were four boxes of his favorite candy, two cans of favorite sweet tea (almost as good as Eloise’s) and 3 brand new romance novels. Leo's face lit up. “You got the newest ones?” Finn grinned at the excitement on Leo’s face. “Waited in line to snag them the day they came out.”
They settled into the car and Finn pulled out of the parking lot. “Finn, what’s going on?” Leo tried again, but Finn just smiled a vague smile and wagged his eyebrows.
Finn pulled onto the highway and headed south. Leo saw no use in asking again where they were going, so he contented himself with watching the city slide past the window.
They had been on the road for a while when Finn turned off the highway. He drove a few miles off the main road, through a small town, and pulled into a parking lot. “Thomas told me about this place,” he explained, “they bake everything fresh, their pastries are amazing, and they are just next door to this neat crystal shop. Oh, and the coffee shop down the street is supposed to have the best lavender lattes.”
Finn and Leo spent a pleasant hour sampling the pastries (Leo’s favorite was the lemon meringue tart, Finn enjoyed the peach turnovers, and they both agreed to bring Logan back for the salted caramel brownies) and Leo and the woman at the register chatted and swapped baking tips when they paid, while Finn petted a strangely friendly orange cat. They wandered up the street, poking in the shops (“Finn, look at these crystals! I wonder what these are for?”) before getting coffee in gorgeous handmade mugs from the shop down the road. Finn paid and he and Leo settled in the squashy chairs.
“Finn.” Leo started again. “This has been a lovely morning, but what is going on?”
Finn took a long sip of his latte. “It’s the week before training camp. You get edgy. You wander around, straighten things that are already straight and organize sock drawers that are already organized. And Lo’s gone back a week early to settle himself in before camp starts. I… I can’t keep you settled in the way he can, so I thought a short little surprise vacation might take your mind off of things before everything starts again.”
Leo blinked. Did he really do that? He thought back to last year and the feeling of unsettledness came back to him. Wandering from room to room, reworking the kitchen, picking up a book only to put it down a few minutes later because he couldn’t focus. He muttered a sheepish apology, but Finn just laughed. “Don’t apologize! It gives me an excuse to spoil you and take you on a mini trip.” Leo smiled and leaned and gave Finn a kiss. “Thank you Fish.”
Finn smiled. “Shall we, then?” Leo nodded. They got back in the car and drove for another while, until Leo started to smell sea air.
Finn pulled the car into the driveway of a gorgeous beach house. Leo got out of the car and looked up at the house. It was huge. White clapboard, black shutters with little hearts cut out of them, and a royal blue door. It sat on a bluff overlooking the ocean. He saw a small, fenced in yard in the back with a patio and fire pit. The late summer breeze ruffled his curls as he walked up to the edge of the bluff and stared out at the water. The waves were blue and sparkling and crashing up against the beach and Leo was suddenly struck at how different it was from the Bayou back home.
Home. He missed home. He missed the heat and the humidity and the smell of spices in the air when he walked up on the porch of his parents house. And he missed his parents. The start of the season always made him miss the love and support he got from Eloise and Wyatt. They had been with him though so many season starts and they knew just what Leo needed to help him get his head into the game. And although he knew they still loved him and supported him, it was somehow different hearing it through a speaker. Leo sighed, and turned back to the car to help Finn with the bags. He pulled the canvas bag from the front seat. He was looking forward to cracking open the newest novel, snuggled up with Finn in the hammock he spied in the backyard, taking turns reading chapters out loud to each other.
Leo was walking up the front steps when the front door opened, and a familiar blond head poked out. Leo’s jaw dropped and he turned to Finn with wide eyes.
“Surprise!”
“Finn. What did you do?”
“Surprise!”
The door opened the rest of the way, and Leo was enveloped in a hug he was just now realizing he needed and missed. Eloise smelled like home. Magnolia perfume and outside and fresh baked muffins. Wyatt ruffled his hair and Leo could feel the roughness of his hands, reminders of childhoods past, hours in the garage and even more hours on the ice. Leo took a deep breath and let the feeling of peace wash over him. Leo was still learning that he didn’t have to be strong for everyone, all the time. It was okay to let it go and let people take some of the weight, and right now, with his parents this close, he knew it was okay to let them carry the weight of the season for him for a little bit.
Leo took another deep breath and caught a whiff of something amazing. He pulled back from the hug. “Mama…is that your gumbo I smell?”
“Sure is, love. Been cooking since 10 am.”
Leo followed his nose straight to the spacious kitchen. Copper pots hung on the rack over the light gray island. There was a massive slate farmhouse sink in front of a window that had gorgeous views of the ocean. And there, on the stove, was a pot full of Leo’s favorite. Bowls and spoons were already next to the stove, so Leo took a big scoop of rice and an even bigger scoop of gumbo, and sat at the island savoring Eloise’s exquisite ability to balance flavors. He already could see Finn doing his best to politely eat a few spoonfuls while slowly turning as red as his hair.
Finn did indeed politely eat a few spoonfuls of gumbo before Eloise laughed and took pity on him and pulled some cold fried chicken out of the fridge.
It was a lovely afternoon. The weather was just starting to cool off, and there was a wonderful breeze in the air. They ate, and chatted about everything and nothing. Finn and Leo sat in the hammock and passed the book back and forth, laughing at the absurd parts and discussing how much better they could have written the ending. Leo and Eloise found the path down to the beach and skipped rocks in the water, while Wyatt and Finn watched late season baseball. In the early evening, Leo opened the fridge and discovered it was packed with all his favorite ingredients. He cooked up a storm, making blackened catfish sandwiches with homemade remoulade sauce and green beans, with peach cobbler for dessert. After everyone was pleasantly full, Wyatt lit a fire in the fire pit, and they sat around the crackling fire, cups of tea or warm apple cider, and discussed the Lions prospects for the season.
It was almost the perfect evening. It was late summer and the nights were just starting to cool off, but the fireflies were still winking at them from in the grass. The stars were brighter here than in Gryffindor, but still not as bright as home. The only thing missing was Logan. Logan and Eloise would be comparing notes of French Canadian vs French Creole by now, and he and Wyatt would have already made plans to work on the car the next time they visited New Orleans.
Finn’s hand caught his and squeezed, like he knew what he was thinking. Logan had texted back when they sent him pictures of the house and the ocean. He and Alex had made plans for dinner now that he was back in NYC and Leo was happy he was settling in so much better this year than last year.
Leo slept better than he had in several weeks. He woke for a few minutes when Finn slipped out of the bed for his morning run on the beach, and drifted back to sleep listening to the murmur of voices in the living room.
The smell of Wyatt’s biscuits and gravy snaked its way under the bedroom door, and lured Leo from bed. He shuffled down the stairs, and rounded the corner into the kitchen. “Well, good morning to me. Dad, they are going to have to get me a larger jersey after…” he trailed off. Sitting at the counter, tucking into a pile of fluffy biscuits and creamy gravy, was a head of chocolate curls he would have known anywhere.
“Lo?” Leo croaked. “What? Why are you here? You were in New York?”
Logan turned his head to face him. “I’m here for you. Well, you, and the promise of Eloise and Wyatt’s home cooking. But mostly you, Soleil.”
Leo rushed forward and wrapped his arms around Logan's back. He buried his face into Logan’s neck and breathed in the familiar scent of cologne and mint tea and Tiger Balm and finally felt everything fall into place.
The back door clicked open. “Babyyyyy?” Leo called out.
“Yes?” Finn came around the corner, in shorts and running shoes, headphone case in one hand and the tops of his shoulders a little pink.
“What did you do?” Leo asked for the last time, and Finn smiled his biggest Finn smile. “Surprise?”
Prompt D5: “Bandaid” for the 7th (and final 🥺) day of @oknutzy-week-2024 . Kudos to @lumosinlove for the characters, and so much love to all of you for reading and writing and being wonderful <3 This week is always a highlight of my year!
TW for minor injury and blood (splinters)
“You are a total and complete disaster.”
“Just pull it out.” Logan’s gaze darted over, then immediately away. His throat bobbed like he was swallowing a heave. “Just get it out, get it out, get it out.”
Leo knew bemusement was probably not the right reaction to a lover in any sort of pain. Unfortunately for Logan, you had to be a special brand of crazy to be a goalie, and Leo’s sense of humor had always been a bit without regard for personal safety. “Would a popsicle make you feel better?”
He had also been getting splinters out of himself since he was old enough to hold tweezers, and here Logan was, at his grown age of 25, trembling like his name.
Logan snuck another peek and did a double-take when he saw Leo’s bitten-back smile. “Don’t make fun of me,” he complained, a little pale in the cheeks.
“I’m sorry, cher.” Leo shook his head, leveling his hand near Logan’s finger again. “Remind me how many fights you’ve been in?”
“You’re mean.”
“Forty-seven.”
“It’s different!”
“In three years,” Leo added.
“It’s not the same.” Logan’s voiced edged on a whine. “They’re not—inside me.”
Leo blinked up at him, sitting back on his heels. “I seem to remember you like it a whole lot when hockey players are inside you.”
The anxious pale of Logan’s face flushed red. “And see if you ever get to know that again,” he bit out.
Leo kept his opinions on that to himself. Something told him a firm, fact-based disagreement would not bode well for making Logan keep still while he worked. A tiny bead of blood welled up near the site of the wound; he smudged it away with a gentle pass of his paper towel. Logan’s flinch made his belly pang. “Sorry, love,” he murmured. “Almost there.”
“This is so embarrassing,” Logan muttered, eyes fixed in the opposite direction. The hair by his forehead and neck was damp with nervous sweat. Why he couldn’t reserve this fear for fighting two-ton behemoths on the ice, Leo would never understand.
“You’re doing great,” he offered helpfully.
Logan just scowled. “If you pull a needle out to help, I’ll scream.”
“Finn took this a lot better than you did.”
“Finn could get stabbed with a greatsword and say he’s fine—ow.”
Leo released Logan’s wrist at the first reflex-jerk and held the tweezers between them with a triumphant grin. “Got it!”
“—calisse de crisse—I fucking hope so!” Logan stuck his wounded fingertip into his mouth and squinted down between them. “Merde, that’s huge.”
Leo leveled him with a disbelieving look. “Want a bandaid?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“It’ll make me feel better.”
Logan stared at him for a few seconds, finger still in his mouth. “You just want to see me walking around with SpiderMan on my hand.”
Leo grinned. “Good doctors deserve compensation.”
“You made two million dollars last year,” Logan argued, already holding his hand out.
“Consider it overtime.” Leo shuffled through the small box he had dug from his mother’s linen closet just that morning, when Finn went jogging and decided walking barefoot on the dock was a great idea. He had, of course, immediately been stabbed in the foot by a nasty splinter. Logan had (of course) grabbed the exact same obviously-fraying spot five minutes ago while pushing himself to his feet.
He decided on a butterfly bandage, peeling the wax backing away while he held Logan’s finger still between the sides of his palms and placed the gauze down. The red looked nice against his sun-warm skin.
Leo looked up as he kissed the web-patterned top of Logan’s finger. “You were very brave.”
The trials of sharing a bed for Day 6 of @oknutzy-week-2024 , with prompt B5: “Good Morning to Me” and prompt E4: “Chest”. Characters by @lumosinlove!
Summer in Gryffindor was so mean to him, personally, and Leo woke up at 3:30 in the morning in a rage.
This was why they couldn’t have nice things. He wanted the heat—he wanted to feel lovingly parboiled, lightly steamed, cozily broiled from June to August. Sometimes, he was lucky enough to get a few days in September, too. It was July. He should be baking like a happy cream puff right about now, yet here he was, freezing his ass off in his own damn bed.
Ridiculous.
Leo scowled at the ceiling and shivered against his will. He cast one longing look at the closed windows and debated the merits of getting up versus staying here to suffer in silence for a long, long, fifteen seconds.
The air conditioner kicked up with a low rumble in the ducts above him. Leo’s vision went red.
If Logan wanted to sleep in an icebox, he could do it on his own. He was obviously the only one, as evidenced by Finn’s current state bundled in his and Leo’s share of their blankets. The top sheet rippled in a gust of fresh freezer air that made Leo tremble in his light pajamas.
Fuck it. It was two against three, and he wasn’t waiting until the morning to lay down the law. Logan didn’t deserve the middle spot if he was going to let Finn steal Leo’s blanket from across the damn bed. The middle spot was for people who would use it with honor and dignity and responsibility.
Leo reached over, jammed his arm between Logan’s belly and Finn’s back, and yanked.
Logan slid backwards a foot across the mattress. A sleepy, confused flail jerked to a stop when he collided with Leo’s chest—the warmth began seeping into Leo’s body immediately. Logan was still yammering on about something or another, but Leo was far too busy tucking himself up all along the space heater that was his most northern boyfriend to really listen. Drowsiness drizzled over his brain, smothering the fury.
Logan’s ribcage heaved with a sigh. “Good morning to me, I guess.”
“You’re so warm,” Leo murmured into his soft skin, pulling comfort straight from the back of Logan’s shoulder when he pressed his face to it. “Mmmm.”
“We have blankets.” Logan’s voice was hoarse and rough from his sudden wakeup; the French sounded crackly, less practiced, and Leo loved it so much.
“Toasty,” he hummed into the crook of Logan’s neck. He slung one leg over Logan’s hip and pushed his other knee into the sensitive bend of Logan’s own, bringing the last inches of them together. Each of Logan’s breaths put pleasant pressure on his chest. Heat radiated from his torso onto Leo’s arm, wrapped tight to keep him near.
“Harzy stole everything.” The kiss he left on Logan’s shoulder sounded loud in the relative quiet of their bedroom. “So I stole you. I’m cold.”
“Mm.” One of Logan’s arms stretched out toward Finn’s personal, selfish burrito and began carefully prying their quilt loose. Leo plastered himself close and watched through a single half-lidded eye.
Success. Finn mumbled something in his sleep as the blanket came free (the things Leo would do to be huddled between his furnace of a body and the two other blankets he had fashioned, unconscious, into a den) and Logan threw one end of it blindly over his shoulder.
“Yours,” came the half-yawned instruction. “Take.”
Leo beamed and shuffled it over them both. The end even covered his frozen toes. Logan gave no protest when he laminated them together again, only a brush of his hand over Leo’s forearm and a light laugh. Leo felt every hitch of it on his palm and closed his eyes.
oknutzy creds to the amazing @lumosinlove!!! thank you @oknutzy-week-2024 for the fun fest this week :D
[!] cw: violence/injury (civil rights movement), internalized homophobia, fear
historical au
-> pov: Logan
-> police man logan, detective finn, activist leo!
- plz lmk if anything is incorrect/insensitive! i will do my best to fix any concerns, but i felt this was an important topic to touch on!
>>>
It should've been a normal day. One like any other -- Logan had assumed it would be. To his knowledge, it was supposed to be. It should've been.
He'd driven into work in the sleek, black Pontiac, smoke pouring from his chapped lips, a cigarette between his teeth. A coffee in the cupholder for Finn, a tea for himself; the black uniform he wore was buttoned all the way up to his neck as he climbed out, saluting Percy as they entered, and locked up. It'd been the same way for years, after all -- how many times had he followed this routine?
The number was insurmountable.
Much of the morning was spent in his stuffy cubicle in the corner of the building, isolated next to the window. The protestors had been gathering near the bridge all morning, from what he'd heard -- Logan wasn't opposed to protesting, he found it quite brave for people to speak their truth, their peace. If he weren't a police officer, he may very well have been right out there with them. But alas.
"Cat got your tongue?"
Logan turned, a small smile curling his lips as Finn squished onto the desk of his mini-office, shoving at the pens and papers in the way with a shrug. Logan, cheeks warm and eyes stubbornly glued to the form he'd been working on for at least an hour, couldn't complain when Finn placed a hand on his nape, cold and calm and reassuring. A careful hand reached for the coffee on the opposite side of the desk and, after a moment, Logan's ears pricked at the soft breath that echoes between them.
"I love it when it's bitter," Finn mused, mostly to bug him. Logan grunted, rolling his eyes.
"You're a monster."
Before Finn's bright, warm laughter could fill his heart with glee, a shriek filled the police station. Logan hopped to his feet, a hand to Finn's shoulder, as green eyes fixed on the doorway.
"They're gathering at the Edmund Pettus Bridge," his boss shouted as a cacophony of chaos sprang into life around them. Logan's heart fell all the way through his feet as Percy rushed past with his gun in its holster, tugging his hat on with a pained grimace, eyes overshadowed. Soft brown met green; Logan stilled.
"Go home," Logan said softly, and Finn's mouth snapped shut. "Please."
Finn's nod is the only thing that kept him sane, that day. Gearing up this intensely for a protest seemed far from what Logan was used to -- the protesters weren't harmful, they hadn't been as long as they'd been gathering for the Civil Rights' Movement. Logan hadn't found a need to lay a single hand on any of them, never once, and even found himself standing guard for them more times than he could count. The public, rather than the protesters, was often a larger threat to handle.
Time flew by in a blur. One moment, he was sliding into a police car, bidding Finn a wordless, morose farewell, and the next...
Well.
It was worst than he had been expecting -- much worse. He'd only gotten there with the last of local police force and, it seemed, Alabama state had sent some of their own to head the operation.
Logan felt his world shatter at the screams, the fear, the pain being inflicted -- his heart stopped at the familiar sight of teargas falling upon the innocent, peaceful civilians. His feet were rooted in place as green eyes glazed over blood, red and fresh, painting the concrete below; there was pleading, desperate and raw, and Logan couldn't move as he watched the men he had always looked up to beat the people they were sworn to protect into the ground.
A bright flash of blond hair caught his eye, in the crowd, and suddenly, Logan's body jolted back into action. He wound between the frightened civilians, onlookers to the one-sided bloodbath unfolding ahead, and his heart panged painfully at every terrified glance, every step back, every stuttered breath. The crowd had basically parted for him -- he hadn't even asked -- but this, he supposed, was the true nature of fear. These people were scared out of their minds as ambulance sirens echoed off the sides of buildings, off the concrete ground, off the crowd itself. Logan didn't blame them; even as an officer, his heart was pounding.
He was scared, suddenly, of the people he had grown to trust.
When the eye-catching blond curls flitted into his view, Logan met ocean blue and stilled. The man, taller than him by far, wore a simple shirt and dress pants, both torn from where he was kneeling on the concrete; there was black paint smeared across his cheeks alongside fresh blood as he stared up at Logan with wide, frightened eyes. He was petrified, unmoving; a pinch between his brows had Logan's heart stuttering in his chest, the scrape across the boy's face made it roar, and the undeniable youth made it go batshit crazy.
"Come with me," Logan told him, voice low despite the distance from the crowd. Protesters were running, shrieking, begging behind them -- Logan had half a mind to beg the other officers to leave them be, to let them go, but by the time the paramedics arrived, Logan was sure there'd be some leeway. There had to be.
"Why would I?" the boy gritted back, Southern accent thick, as Logan crouched at his side. A grey streak at the front of the stranger's head had Logan pausing; his brows furrowed.
"Please," Logan said. "I won't hurt you--"
"Don't give me that bullshit," the stranger went, "do you see what they're doing? What you're doing?"
Logan swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Ouais."
The rainbow bracelet around the boy's wrist tugged particularly hard at his heartstrings when the boy -- at least a few years younger than him, he'd guess -- wiped at his tired, half-lidded eyes. He folded in on himself, head ducking and arm wrapping around his torso, as Logan surged forward to catch his shoulder before his head smashed into the concrete.
The stranger flinched away from him, eyes burning, as he sat back on his haunches. Logan could see the blood pouring from his shoulder as the boy gripped it with one hand, the other grasping a fistful of his dirtied t-shirt. This boy was young, one of the youngest Logan had seen still protesting here. It set his heart ablaze.
So, in a moment of weakness or perhaps strength, Logan produced the small, rainbow heart of fabric Finn had sewn him to place in his pocket. Blue eyes watched it as Logan's palm cradled it between them -- the world was silent, unmoving around them. It was just them two.
"Please," Logan said, voice breaking. "Trust me."
>
"Finn!" he cried out, a long, pale arm looped around his shoulders; the blond's head lolled against Logan's as the boy grunted, not a complaint from his lips as Logan kicked the door shut.
The ginger's face crumbled as he took in the sight and, at once, Finn lurched forward to take the stranger's face in his hands.
"Where are you hurt?" Finn asked, helping Logan and the boy to the ground. Only when they got there, cold floorboards beneath, that Logan witnessed the fight fade from the blond's knitted brows. He sunk into Finn's arms, face pressed to his chest as a sob broke the lingering silence.
"I'm so sorry," the boy was saying, grasping for the back of Finn's shirt as the ginger pulled him up and close; it was surreal, almost, watching Finn act like this. Watching Finn and the boy. Like this. "I'm--"
"What've you to be sorry for?" Finn asked, eyes bright as always; Logan recognized that expression, it was the one that lit up Finn's face every time he cracked a case. "Oh. You're Leo Knut, right? You work at that bakery down the road."
Leo, Logan now knew, nodded softly, dabbing at his eyes as he leaned against Finn's chest. Finn, of course, was combing soft hands through his hair. "I do. Some of my friends own it."
"Do you want me to call parents for you?" Logan piped up, feeling absolutely useless. Leo flinched.
"They're not here," he said. "They don't live here. Not anymore."
Not anymore.
"Why don't we patch up some of your injuries while figuring out the story," Finn said, nodding in the direction of their First-Aid kit. Logan hadn't always come home from missions unscathed, after all. "Of what happened, today, that is."
"What?" Leo's voice was so brittle when Logan clambered to his feet, setting out for the small closet beside the entryway as sharp eyes trailed after his every move.
Finn took the kit into his hands when Logan returned, a short moment later, with a pleased smile and a pat to his cheek. Leo hardly spoke when Finn explained, somewhat sadly, that he was a detective and Logan, a police officer.
"I'd always been scared of those," Leo had noted, wincing as Finn fixed a bandage over the cut on his cheek. If he knew who put it there, Logan would've had their head. "Figures you'd be the one to..."
"I was scared of them today, too," Logan admitted. Finn's eyes wander to him, a hand patting his shoulder; ocean blue glaze over with something akin to realization, maybe trust, maybe understanding. Logan sighs.
"I'm sorry for what they did to you, for what it's worth," Logan told him. "I'm sorry what they did... to everyone."
"You didn't hurt us," Leo whispered. "You saved me. Right?"
Logan felt tears crowding his eyes as he ducked his head and nodded. Finn's gentle hand pressed to his nape as he said, "why don't you stay for dinner, Leo?"
"Really?"
"I would've said the foreseeable future," Finn mused, drawing a bright, warm laugh from Leo. "Which is an offer on the table, by the way. Stay forever, sweetheart, seriously. Neither Lo nor I can cook for shit."
Leo's eyes crinkled and he nodded quickly. "Thank you."
Prompts A2: "Order Up" and D3: "Party" for a little bit of soft party vibes on day 5 of @oknutzy-week-2024, with characters by the esteemed @lumosinlove <3
TW for alcohol
Logan knew who it was before they even spoke.
“What’cha looking for, Ten?” and hands on his waist, coming around until he was held in a loose embrace with a body against his back and a light pulse of pressure at his belly.
He tilted his head up, and it was freckles as far as the eye could see. “Hi,” he murmured into Finn’s jaw, leaving a kiss for posterity.
“Hey.” Finn kissed his cheek and released him, already reaching for bottles even though Logan had left his question unanswered. “Nice party, eh?”
“It’s good to see Cap…”
“Unclenching.”
“Ouais, that,” Logan laughed. Finn’s fingers wrapped around the neck of the rum with the tenderness of familiarity. He half-shrugged and nudged the Coke a little closer with one finger. “Dunno. Just happy.”
That seemed to please Finn. His slight smile brought pink to his cheeks. “Good.”
“Knutty’s with Reg.”
“We’re never getting him back,” Finn snorted, pouring a few ounces of rum into each cup. He added Coke to Logan’s with one hand and reached for the limes with his other; not for the first time, Logan was glad he didn’t have to fight with half the bars in Manhattan for Finn’s attention. Perfect drinks whenever he wanted them with no competition.
“I thought we might go out of the city tomorrow,” Logan said while Finn rummaged around the once-organized (and now ravaged) collection of drinks. “Get some fresh air, you know?”
“Oh, yeah, we—” Finn took the bottle of ginger beer from him with a grateful look. “Mercy buckets. Yes, we should, I need to slow down.”
“Merci. Beaucoup.”
“ ‘S what I said.” His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he filled the second cup with soda that tickled Logan’s nose with ginger across the countertop. He slid the rum and coke toward Logan with a kiss to the top of his head. “Order up. You said Le’s in the living room?”
“TV room,” Logan corrected. He could tell just from the color that Finn had, as always, mixed his drink perfectly. Leo’s dark and stormy hung between his fingers with the casual grace that defined him. A lime bobbed near the rim as he tugged on Finn’s back pocket to pull him around.
Finn smelled like his going-out cologne when Logan buried his nose in his neck and took a breath. His chest vibrated with a soft hum. “Hey, you.”
Logan pushed his face harder into the comforting dark.
Fingertips trailed over the back of his neck. “You okay?”
“I love this.” It was quiet, but the force of it knocked around in his chest. He turned his face up, meeting Finn’s eyes with his mouth still pressed to the neckline of his shirt. “I love you. I love Knutty. It’s just—it’s right. It fits.”
Finn’s doe-soft eyes gentled an impossible degree. The tip of his nose poked Logan’s forehead. “You sure you’re okay, sugar boy?”
“Better than ever.”
“Did Knutty send you for his drink, or am I allowed to take it to him?”
“Was a surprise.”
Finn smiled and pressed it across Logan’s brow. It was so good. So good. “You’re sweet to him.”
“He deserves it.” Logan held him there a moment longer, rolling the seam of his pocket between his fingers. Wanted to tuck you into my pocket, Finn had said once upon a time. And keep you. “D’accord,” he sighed, taking a sip of his drink (perfect, as he expected). “Let’s go make sure they haven’t started beating each other with controllers.”
“What about the surprise?”
Logan kept his hand in Finn’s pocket all the way out of the kitchen. “It can be from both of us.”
It was uncommonly hot on the day of his and Leo’s final, just as Finn had said it would be.
But Logan was used to the heat. He was up 4-2 in the first set. They’d gotten stuck at deuce for a good five minutes during the second game and Leo had pulled the extra two points off, but Logan was going to take the set. By the time Logan did so, he had soaked through his shirt and his hair was sticking to his neck and temples. Even the audience’s applause sounded dulled by the heat. People had straw hats and fans and more than enough iced drinks and white wine to go around.
He was winning—not that such a thing couldn’t change in a snap. But it was roasting and he liked the way he was playing. He could have a moment of fun. When he got to his chair at the changeover, he glanced up at Finn. He had his arm stretched along the back of Luke’s chair, who’d stayed to watch even after being knocked out by Sebastian Montague. Logan liked seeing them getting along better. Yeah, because I won, Finn said, no matter how many times Logan insisted Luke had never seen him like that. Finn was saying something intently to him—something about Logan’s forehand if his gestures were anything to go by—when he noticed Logan looking at him. Finn tilted his head.
Logan tossed his hat on his seat before pulling his sticking white Nike t-shirt over his head. He heard Luke’s laugh before he’d even freed himself of the shirt. He kept his eyes down, and his smirk, as he used a towel to dry his torso the best he could. He fetched a new shirt from his bag, sifting carefully around his fruit and spare rackets to find it. Just before he pulled it over his head, he glanced up again. Finn had his chin in his palm, hand discreetly covering his grin. Luke thumped him on the back. Finn rolled his eyes at Logan and then pointed down at something near Logan’s chair. Logan looked, thinking he meant his hat, but instead there was a cooler there that hadn’t been before.
Finn had send down bags of ice neatly rolled up in towels that Logan could drape around his neck. Logan glanced Leo’s way to see if his team had done the same. He couldn’t tell, but what he did see was—it was something. Leo peeling the white fabric of his shirt from his long, shining torso. He used the fabric to wipe at his face and neck. He had one of those bodies that appeared more lanky until you really got a look. He was strong and defined and—
Logan looked away quickly. He looked up at Finn instead—but Finn was watching Leo. His eyes darted to Logan’s and he raised his eyebrows. Logan raised his eyebrows back. Finn grinned, fanned himself, pointed at the towels, and flashed him a thumbs up. Logan rolled his eyes and took one of the ice towels out from the cooler Finn had sent him and draped it around his neck. He glanced over at Leo again, who seemed to be intent on soaking his fresh shirt in cold water. It made it cling to the muscles of his back and chest, the white fabric going slightly see-through.
Logan took the second ice towel out and held it. Technically, they weren’t supposed to talk during change overs. But… He glanced again at Leo’s flushed cheeks, and then at the full-sun side of the court he was about to have to play on.
Logan got up and crossed in front of the Umpire’s chair and stopped only when his shadow fell over Leo, making him look up. Blue. Blue, blue eyes, as blue as the shirt he had been wearing at his and Finn’s doubles final. He was obviously confused as to why Logan was standing there, his gaze darting towards the Ump.
Wordlessly, Logan held out the towel. When Leo just stared at it, Logan cursed under his breath and leaned forward to drape it around Leo’s neck. The audience mumbled, then awed, then began to clap as Logan went back to his own chair.
He hadn’t been trying for anything to get applause about. He just knew how it felt when the heat began to creep in. Leo looked grateful for it, holding some of the coolness to his cheek.
Logan went to the base line and readied himself for Leo’s serve, backing up several steps so he would be able to return its power. Leo had a small serving routine. Nothing crazy or obnoxious. He rocked once on his feet, made sure his hair was out of his face and bounced the ball three times. His long torso stretched as he tossed the ball up.
Logan only barely had time to draw his racket back, and even when he did, his return went into the net. Logan turned away as the crowd applauded. He went back to the baseline. He blew on his sweaty palms and took his steps backwards.
Leo pushed his hair out of his face. he wore a thin bandana tied around his forehead, but his blond hair curled over the top still. It was handsome, really. Logan wouldn’t give up his baseball hat for anything, but had always liked that style on other players.
Logan managed to return this time, and they rallied. And rallied. They hit the ball back and forth, running each other around the court for long enough that the crowd was gasping with each get. Logan could pictured Finn’s face. His clenched fist pressed to his lips the way Logan had only seen when watching his own tape back. He loved when the camera cut to Finn during a replay and the commentator’s talked about him.
There’s O’Hara. He was very tense during this point. He’s very invested, obviously.
And then, when Logan won the point, they’d show a slow-motion replay of Finn leaping to his feet with a fist raised in front of him. Logan would get to watch the way Finn’s mouth formed his name when it was slowed down. Logan. Yes, Logan.
Was it bad to think about taking your boyfriend to bed during a grand slam final?
Logan leapt for Leo’s killer volley and slammed it down perfectly in the corner and the point was over. The crowd erupted and Logan could practically hear those commentators now.
Excellent tennis. Incredible, just spectacular, these two.
It went on like that. Sweat in Logan’s eyes, insane rallies that seemed to last forever. They trapped themselves at deuce over and over again, back and forth back and forth until they were bound to lock eyes before serving again. Daring each other. Sharing this together. Little silent communications that Logan could all but hear in Leo’s voice. Here we are again.
After a particularly brutal thirteen minute game filled with running, Logan shot low over the net, spinning it so it would drop short. Leo sprinted for it hard (Finn’s voice: God, he shouldn’t be able to run that fast with all that height, but look at him) but the ball bumped over the top of the net tape before dribbling over and bouncing twice. The crowed oohed and Logan held up a hand in apology as was customary. No one wanted to win points like that.
For a moment, him and Leo were face to face right at the net. Right there. Blue, blue, blue.
“Désolé,” Logan said, out of breath. The French slipped out.
“Want to go six hours again?” Leo’s smile was crooked.
Logan couldn’t help it. He laughed. They turned away together, back to the baselines. He looked up at his box. Finn tilted his head at him and Logan shrugged.
They went seven hours. Gruesome. Glorious. And when Logan hit the ball into the net on Leo’s match point, Leo fell into his back in the grass and put his hands over his face.
Logan dropped to a knee, hardly able to breathe, but he rose quickly. He didn’t like lingering after a loss. He wanted off the court. He wanted out of the sun. He wanted Finn.
But he met Leo at the net. His palm found Leo’s and, unsure what made him do it, maybe the exhaustion or all of those small glances over these hours, but he and Leo pulled each other into a brief hug. The crowd was there, their player’s boxes and teams were there, but this had been between them. This had been a rematch, a battle. And Leo had won.
“Thank you,” Leo said softly to him beneath the crowd’s roar. “That was amazing.”
Logan didn’t know what to say, but he looked up at Leo as they pulled back and did what he thought Finn might. He tapped a hand over Leo’s chest, his heart really.
“It was,” he said.
~
Finn was waiting for him in the more private hallway they’d agreed to meet in if he lost.
The words from Leo’s victory speech were ringing in Logan’s head.
I want to congratulate Logan and his team on such a fantastic tournament. Logan, Finn, everyone…I mean, there is such love and support in Logan’s camp, it’s… It’s inspiring.
Logan pushed his face into Finn’s neck.
“Good game, baby,” Finn whispered. He always touched Logan hard after a loss. Firm palms on his back that almost jostled, but they felt good. Grounding when Logan might’ve just floated away on self-doubt. “Good fucking game.”
Logan let Finn take his weight and Finn did. He tightened his arms around Finn’s waist. “We lost.”
“He’s really good,” Finn whispered when he had his lips against Logan’s cheek. “He’s really good, and you’re really good, and chance has to go one way or the other, stop beating yourself up right now.” He put his hand on the back of Logan’s neck and hit pressure points with his thumb and forefinger. “Hey, stop it.” He used his grip to ease Logan’s head back to look up at him. “Stop it.”
Logan made some sort of pathetic sound.
“Let’s go get that steak you love,” Finn said and began pressing kiss after kiss to Logan’s cheek. “Gonna buy you dinner and get you that red wine you like,” he dropped his voice to a whisper. “Then our bed’s waiting, and I love the pillow creases in your cheeks. Gonna put them there myself, how’s that sound?”
“Really good.” Logan let his eyes slip shut. “He’s really good.”
“I know.”
Logan felt so tired suddenly that he nearly spoke in French. “Nous—We have to go to the party, we have to show up there. Because of our doubles.”
Finn removed Logan’s hat and stroked gentle fingers through his sweaty hair. “Yeah. Just twenty minutes, then we’ll leave.”
“Non. Non, we stay, it’s our victory.” Logan reached up to put a palm on Finn’s cheek. “We won. Love you.”
“I love you, too. Hey, c’mere.” His brown eyes were firm. “It was a great fucking match. Okay? Like, Jesus. It was a great match. It was hard and it was fucking unbelievable. Those rallies, and that tie break—fuck, Lo. It’s like…”
“It’s like we were born to play each other. I know.”
People said that about rivals sometimes. Like they existed to be playing at the same time. Logan believed that right now, he really did. He existed to face Leo Knut. He existed to be held like this by Finn O’Hara. He existed to face Leo Knut.
Finn kissed him gently and Logan floated away on an entirely different feeling. He wasn’t sure he could name it.
“Go get on the bike,” Finn whispered into Logan’s mouth, and Logan smiled.
~
He didn’t care so much about his suit this time around. Him and Finn wore simple black and Finn clicked Logan’s watch into place. Logan smiled at the thought of how his sponsors could make him wear this thing whenever and wherever, but they’d never see how reverently Finn put it on him, or the way he kissed his wrist after he was finished.
The ballroom of the Wimbledon clubhouse was already full and swinging by the time they’d arrived.
Logan leaned into Finn. “I thought it started at—”
“So, we’re a little late,” Finn said quietly in Logan’s ear. “You’re welcome.”
Logan laughed. “Oh. You’re…”
“You can tell me what I am later,” Finn whispered. “Incoming.”
Before the flock of admirers reached them, Finn had grabbed both of Logan’s hands and pulled him right onto the dance floor.
“Agh, Finn—I’m not good.” Logan laughed when he promptly stepped on Finn’s foot. “Finn—”
“Shh,” Finn murmured to him, ducking to press their cheeks together. “I’m celebrating my victory.”
The song was lively, but Finn kept them quiet and drawn together. He did spin Logan out a few times before drawing him back to his chest with a kiss.
“Why are you good at everything?” Logan said. He’d switched to locking his hands around the back of Finn’s neck to keep him close. He was light-headed by how Finn looked in this light. He could barely feel today’s loss, which maybe wasn’t exactly a good thing, but he didn’t care.
“I’m not,” Finn said. “I just make sure I’m good enough for you.”
Logan clicked his tongue, realizing too late that he had sounded exactly like his mother did when playfully scolding her children. He stepped on Finn’s foot on purpose this time, light on his toe.
“Always,” Logan said. “You are, always.”
Logan didn’t know any of the names that spoke to him. He smiled. He shook hands. He kept one hand firmly in Finn’s. He redirected any praise for their doubles victory onto Finn and accepted praise for the lost match against Leo. He took sips of Finn’s whiskey until Finn put the glass down and told whoever the hell they were talking to that they had somewhere to be.
“Ready?” Finn asked. His hand, slipping back into Logan’s, was cold from the glass.
“Ouais. So ready, champ.” So many men had called Finn that. Hey, champ, good game, champ, champ champ champ.
Finn laughed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Come on.”
Just as they turned towards the doors, a voice spoke from behind them.
“I hoped you would be here.”
Logan watched Finn turn first before he did. His face…lit up at the sight of Leo. A bit. Logan had to turn to see.
Leo smiled. He wore a soft, dove gray suit. His tie was gone, though, his collar open at his neck. Logan could see a fine golden chain there, dipping and shining against his collarbones. Logan stepped closer to Finn and curled his free hand around Finn’s wrist, just above where his other was clasped. He wasn’t sure what he meant by it, but Finn squeezed his hand like he understood.
Leo took slow steps towards them and set his drink down on the way. “I hoped you both would be here.”
“Who passes up clubhouse parties?” Finn said. “Especially ones for a well-deserved winner.” Finn didn’t let go of Logan’s hand, but held out his free one to Leo. “Fantastic match.”
Leo’s eyes flickered to Logan as he took Finn’s hand. Logan’s eyes went from their hands to his and Finn’s, almost in one line.
“Thank you,” Leo said. Again, he looked at Logan. “It really is a privileged to play you. Thank you for the towel.”
Logan bit the inside of his cheek. He felt Finn squeeze his hand.
Nice. He was a nice person, so why did everything get stuck somewhere between his chest and throat when Leo Knut looked at him?
“You looked like you needed it,” Logan said. Finn squeezed his hand harder. “I mean—I mean it was hot.”
Thankfully, Leo laughed. Finn kind of did, too and Logan squeezed back.
“It was.” Leo’s eyes dipped down Logan’s form. “It was…” Leo glanced behind him. “Were you about to leave?”
“We were,” Finn said. “Don’t tell me you’re leaving your own party so soon.”
“No, no.” Leo paused, considering them. “But…It’s tradition for the champions to dance together.”
The men’s and women’s champions, yes. That was true. Logan looked to where Lily Evans, clad in a silky dark green dress, was laughing at something Natalie Darcy was saying and pouring them both some more champagne. “You already danced with Evans.”
“What about the other champions, don’t they count?” Leo asked. “Doubles…for instance.”
That hung in the air. Logan could tell Finn was as speechless as he was just by the way his shoulder briefly stopped moving against Logan’s. Leo stood there looking down at them with his hands in his pockets and his chain glinting at his throat and his soft smile. Without the bandana he tied around his gold hair while he played, Logan could see the slightly longer length. He’d pushed it back from his face in gentle curls.
Logan had held this look that Leo was giving him before. Not in a ballroom but in a hallway, and not with Finn holding his hand but with Finn’s kiss, one of Finn’s first kisses, on his mouth.
“What,” Leo asked with a tilt to his head that was almost teasing. He remembered, too. “You don’t count?”
“Who…” Finn began to say, but had to break to clear his throat. “Who exactly are you asking?”
“Either one of you. Or whoever wants to go first.”
Logan’s heart started to pound. He could feel it against Finn’s palm, too. His suit felt too hot.
“I know you’re together,” Leo said at their hesitation.
“I believe you were the first to know,” Finn said. Leo’s eyes widened and Finn smiled—that cocky smile. The one he gave Logan in bed sometimes. Logan startled a little, seeing it out in the open like that. Something like pride spread warm through his fingertips. “If memory serves.”
“I…” Leo swallowed. “I just meant you don’t have to worry about…”
He didn’t finish, but Logan wasn’t worried. He was Finn’s. Logan looked up at Finn just as Finn looked back at him. Those brown eyes. He wasn’t entirely sure what Finn was thinking.
“Go,” Finn said softly. He smiled at Leo a little and put a hand low on Logan’s back. His finger tapped Logan’s spine. Bum-bum-ba-bum. Logan sent him another unsure look. “Don’t you think people want to see their rivals dancing?”
Leo just smiled, looking pleased, and turned halfway back towards the dance floor.
“Take me to dinner after,” Logan whispered to Finn, and tilted his face up.
Finn touched the underside of Logan’s chin with soft, curled knuckles, keeping him there, and kissed him.
Logan let his hand slip out of Finn’s and followed Leo. The song was slow but upbeat. There were other couples dancing, but none like them. It didn’t bother Logan anymore. He’d had one year of Finn pulling him out of his shell and into the closest Logan had ever felt to being himself. Finn did it with kisses all day, with jokes that made Logan laugh in crowded restaurants. He did it in museums where Logan looked his face more than the art. He did it in bed, sinking deep to Logan’s core, Logan’s back resting against his chest, Finn’s teeth on his neck. He did it on dance floors. Finn knew how to make an elegant fool of himself, and Logan was learning to enjoy things rather than just be good at them.
Leo’s hand settled on his lower back, the other gentle in his own, and Logan was right there on the dance floor, pulse flying. He looked back at Finn. He was leaning against the bar, watching with dark, soft eyes.
“We’re not really rivals, are we?”
Logan was drawn back to Leo. He had to look up farther than he did with Finn, especially when standing this close. They turned in time, giving Logan flashes of the people around the room. Everyone was looking. Smiling. Staring. Gaping. At least no one was snapping photos. That he could see.
“In their eyes we are,” Logan said of the room.
Leo glanced around, too. Logan was eye-to-eye with that gold chain. It dripped down between his collarbones like a little trail of honey. Logan licked his lips then realized what he was doing.
“You’re going to have to tell me what you’re thinking,” Leo said.
Logan huffed out a laugh. “I’m not good at that.”
“Finn always knows what you’re thinking,” Leo said.
“Ouais,” Logan said. “Because he’s Finn.”
Leo smiled and applied a bit of pressure to Logan’s hand. “You keep trying to lead.”
“So do you.”
“I thought I was, since I asked you.”
“Oh,” Logan said. “Ouais, you can.”
A few seconds of silence went by, and Leo laughed.
“Sorry,” Logan said, unable to help a smile of his own. “I’m trying not to.”
“It’s all right,” Leo replied. “It’s…It’s like you’re still trying to beat me.” He ducked his head down a little. “We’re just dancing, Logan.”
Logan tried his best to relax. The eyes around them were moving on. At least, some of them were. As the room spun slowly around them, Finn came back into view. He had a funny expression on his face. They moved on too quickly for Logan to decipher it.
“Thanks for agreeing,” Leo said. “It’s nice to dance with another boy. For me.”
Logan nodded. He was staring at the gold chain again. It was next to a dark freckle. And come to think of it, Leo’s hair had streaks of gray in the front most strands. Not an age thing. A bad hit to the head? And had he known Leo Knut liked men? Somehow, he thought he had though he didn’t remember learning that.
A flash of that look Leo had given him, that night in the dark, velvet hallway. Finn’s mouth on his neck, Leo’s eyes locked to his. That smile. That sort of not-smile. Logan knew that smile. He’d felt that smile on his own face, when he had only wanted Finn without having him.
“You don’t have anyone?” Logan asked. “You seem like you would.”
Leo’s hand tightened around his as he led them into another elegant turn. Logan hadn’t stepped on his foot once, he realized.
“No,” Leo said. “Not yet.”
Leo had said that confidently. No regret, just waiting and hoping. He tried to put that tone to the boy he’d first met, dumping a waffle on his plate.
“You seem different,” Logan said carefully.
“How?”
“Less…” Logan wasn’t sure how to put it.
“Scared of you.”
Logan scoffed. “Là, mais…”
“Je ne suis pas.”
French. Something in Logan relaxed as it always did.
“I wasn’t going to say scared,” Logan said, relieved to be speaking his own language.
“Good,” Leo replied in the same way. “Because I’m not. I never was.”
“What were you then? And don’t say, like, in awe or something.”
Their song was beginning to end, Logan could tell as the slides of violin and cello got longer. At the languid tempo, he became aware that his heart had calmed. He still hadn’t stepped on Leo’s foot.
“I used to have your poster on my wall,” Leo said. “Finn’s, too. When I was at home, it was in my bedroom, when I went to tennis camp it was in my cabin.”
Without thinking—maybe because he was so used to doing it with Finn and when else was he this close to someone who wasn’t Finn—Logan laughed, grimaced, and let his forehead fall against Leo’s shoulder. Just as quickly, he straightened, flushing, but Leo looked pleased.
“I was in awe,” Leo said before Logan could apologize. The last note of the song played and Leo slowed them. They’d ended up near the center of the room and Logan felt a little—numb. Tingly. Light-headed. “Because you’re just as handsome in real life.”
Leo’s eyes went somewhere behind Logan—to Finn? Was Finn watching them? “Both of you.”
Logan stepped on Leo’s foot and fumbled out an apology. Leo just smiled as they stilled together. Around them, people began clapping for the musicians. Slowly, Leo released Logan’s waist. Had his hand been under Logan’s jacket the entire time? Logan realized that his was closer to the side of Leo’s neck than his shoulder. If he raised his thumb, he could have brushed skin. It was how he danced with Finn.
Leo covered Logan’s knuckles with his other palm before letting their hands drop. “Let me know if you ever want to dance again.”
Yooo, we've made it to the end!! (Of creating at least, still two more days left but I didn't have time to make anything. Also still written in advance to the actual week.)
Anyway, I figured for the last day I would share the songs on my O'Knutzy playlist I listened to while writing my stories (+ the characters they remind me of and why they did)
Credit of this beautiful thing we call Logan Tremblay, Finn O'Hara, and Leo Knut to @lumosinlove , and thanks to @oknutzy-week-2024 for also just being amazing.
Anyway songs under cut :)
shhh its a shit ton of Hozier
Line Without a Hook, Rick Montgomery - Ok look at me and tell me this isn't Harvard Era Finnlo. "You can hold my hand if no ones there" LOGAN! "All my emotions feel like explosions when you're around" FINN! Nuff' said.
Wish You Were Sober, Conan Gray - I only need one word to explain this one. Harvard. Next!
Sun, Two Door Cinema Club - Mainly reminds me of Finn, especially when he's in Gryfindor and Logan's still at Harvard. But also like listen to it, literally the entire song is just them.
Young In America, Barnes Courtney - Just gives me that Harvard vibe yk, Finn and Logan being best friends and then being drawn apart, it just fits them Imo. ALSO THAT LAST FUCKING VERSE IS SO UGH FINNLO (Also happens to be my favorite song rn so that may be part of it but like it's still them)
Running In Circles, Dead Poet Society - LOGAN. Specifically Logan his last year of college without Finn and him being in pain. Him having to hide it as well, and pretending he's not completely fucking devastated without Finn. Just the angst.
Atlantis, Seafret - Makes me think of Logan being scared and constantly telling Finn they can't and pretty much everything after the night Finn leaves Harvard. The feeling of helpless and inevitable heartbreak is very in line with that period of time.
Mind Over Matter, Young The Giant - Very Logan coded. Kinda how I imagined him with Leo and Finn before they got together. Also, "Cause' I'm a young man built to fall" is just something I think Logan would have told himself on why he couldn't tell Finn or Leo.
To Someone From A Warm Climate, Hozier - Also very Logan coded, I imagine him just quietly singing this into Leo's ear in the dark of a winter night, which are cold in Gryfindor which Leo is NOT used to.
Francesca, Hozier - Ahem, "the entire fucking song". Finn. This song = Finn. More exactly reflecting back on all of the hurt he and Logan went through together and knowing he would do it again. And again. And again. Especially when he's a Lion and O'Knutzy isn't a thing yet.
Home, Good Neighbours - Leo's homesickness, Logan missing Gryfindor in NY, Finn wanting to go back to Logan at Harvard. All of it. Though it did mainly make me think of Leo going home for a little bit after the Rangers knocked the Lions out of the playoffs in Vaincre.
TIMEZONE, Maneskin - Let me take you back to a lovely place called Logan fully ditching all-stars to see Leo and Finn in Vaincre. If this isn't the most Logan song I've ever heard, I don't even know. Also could be Logan in NY, or even Finn in Gryf while Logan's at Harvard.
Heaven Must Have Sent You, The Elgins - Leo. Just the way Leo tends to think about Finn and Logan, and he's definitely played this while dinner was cooking and the three of them danced in the kitchen.
Can't Take My Eye's Off You, Frankie Valli - Leo sings this at karaoke night constantly and you cannot tell me otherwise. Anyway, self explanatory, moving on.
Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene, Hozier - Finn and the way he thinks of Leo and Logan. I think that's enough.
From Eden, Hozier - Yk, I don't actually have a clear explination for this one, it just gives me those O'Knutzy vibes.
Somewhere Only We Know, Keane - Reminds me of Harvard and the Roof, but also just a very O'Knutzy and FinLo song that makes me want to reread Coast to Coast.
Ditmas, Mumford and Sons - FinLo falling apart after Finn graduates. The angst is very appropriate and obviously it doesn't last but this is how I imagine it was back then.
i wanna be your girlfriend, girl in red - Very self explanatory, we don't need to dwell on it.
Figure You Out, VOILA - Hey remember when Logan freaked out when he though Finn got a girlfriend? This, it's this. Every time one little romantic interest and Logan just turns into the embodiment of this song.
Mercy, Shawn Mendes - Ok yes Ik it's basic but this is totally how Finn felt when him and Logan were doing their little dance around each other and it was absolutely Killing Finn.
Thinking Out Loud, Ed Sheeran - OK I GET IT ALSO BASIC but it does genuinely make me think of an older O'Knutzy, one that will love each other for a very long time and will love each other no matter what happens and how they change.
High, Stephen Sanchez - Sorry this song is so Finn being fucking horny over Logan in college and thinking about all the things he would do to him given the chance.
Beautiful Things, Benson Boone - SHUT UP I KNOW BASIC, but anyway this is Logan thinking over the last few years and how things have gotten so much better but also being so so so scared he could lose it all in a moment. His beautiful things are Finn and Leo.
Supernatural, Barnes Courtney - Finn constantly at Harvard. Logan and him are dancing around each other and Logan keeps fucking touching him and being so close and it drives him insane. And just a very Harvard Era song.
Like Real People Do, Hozier - Not Finn saying "can we for once not kiss while we're both crying" and that's literally just this song in different words, ok?
If She's Anything Like Me, MALINDA - Logan with every single girl Finn talks about or even looks at. Finn is genuinely the most perfect and lovable person in his eyes, so why wouldn't everyone else love him, too? And just because he doesn't have the guts to say it, that doesn't mean they won't.
Heat Waves, Glass Animals - Ok ok ok ok ok hear me out..... Actually I don't have much to defend this so Ig it's just all of them staying up late at night just thinking about each other.
Home, Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros - A very FinLo coded song, especially with the "Jade...Alexander....I was falling deep deep deeply in love with you," part because tell me that didn't happen. Also Leo works in here too because home is with his boys and their home will always be with him, too.
When He Sees Me, Kimiko Glenn & co - Definitely what Leo came into his Rookie season thinking. Especially once he met Finn and Logan knowing he'd be head over heels if he wasn't careful. Just very Leo as well because ofc he's fucking defensive of his heart right after Jack bitchass Archer.
She, Foxy Venus - Guess, take a wild guess. Did you guess Harvard Era Finlo because yeah, that's it. More specifically I think Finn and trying to get Logan out of his mind and move on and that not working whatsoever.
Can't Help Falling in Love, Elvis Presley - This took me an embarrassingly long time to add but yeah Very much Leo with his boys and then Logan and Finn with Leo.
Can't Pretend, Tom Odell - Also took me an embarrassingly long time to add considering it HAS THE SAME TITLE AS ONE OF MY FUCKING WORKS but we don't need to dwell on it. Anyway, FinLo again, especially canonically when they have their little talks about loving each other and not admitting it.
This playlist will probably grow but y'all ain't getting my Spotify so it's just a list rn, might add onto it, idk. Anyway, hope this was suitable for a final O'Knutzy week post and figured it be fun to show you what I was listening to while writing all this. Genuinely I had To Someone From A Warm Climate on repeat while writing the first half of With a Straight Face because if y'all we're confused about the vibe, it's that (especially the beginning). Also Supernatural was on repeat for the first part of When We Can't Pretend (Oh and High was on repeat during the Kiss in the second half, lol).
Ok peace I genuinely can't wait to see everything when I get back in August!
Thank you to @lumosinlove for the wonderful characters
B5 Good Morning to Me
Finn was fast asleep on his stomach, face fully smushed against his pillow and his hair splayed about. He had heard Logan and Leo speaking briefly last night, he couldn’t quite make out what was said but the room was quiet again after a bit and he was back asleep.
Now, he heard rustling, soft laughing and the tug of the sheets underneath him. He opened his eyes, slightly blurry from just waking up and from not having his glasses and watched as Logan settled himself on Leo’s lap, leaning over and kissing him. Logan’s strong hands gripping Leo’s face, Leo’s hands resting on Logan’s hips and their lips moving like how they did on the ice, smooth and with a purpose.
Finn’s heart was beating faster, he was swooning, the most beautiful people he had the pleasure of knowing, the pleasure of playing with, living with and sleeping in the same bed with were in their own world, safe and comfortable.
“Rouge?,” Logan asked.
“Yeah baby?”
“Good morning.”
“Mhm. Good morning to me indeed,” Finn hummed before scooting closer to them.
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