Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Are you sure it’s okay?” Finch asked you, nervously biting his lip. Normally, he was entirely too confident, but this time he must have felt like he was crossing a line.

“Completely! Besides, it’s not home if you’re not there.” You lightly punched his arm and flashed him a grin. Not so secretly, you were thrilled at the idea of having Finch come over for Thanksgiving. Right now you were literally bouncing on your toes, your face bright and clear with excitement. The true secret was why you were so happy. Maybe it was a little selfish, but you quite fancied Finch. Well, maybe a little bit more than that. In all honesty, you were in love with this boy-not that you’d ever let him know. You overheard him say that he wasn’t interested in dating right now. Sure, he said that months ago, but you didn’t want to risk making him uncomfortable.

“I really owe you one for this. I can’t stand the idea of spending the night surrounded by that hell.” He ducked his head and scratched behind his ear.

“Is it really that bad?” Finch had only fed you snippets about his home life, but none of them had been pleasant. Some days he even had the bruises to show for it.

He nodded. “When everyone is together, they all just break out into arguments everywhere, and I get thrown into the thick of it. Now, you know I love a good fight here and there, but this isn’t the good kind. This kind I can’t win.”

Gently, you took Finch’s hand in your own and pulled him in for a hug. He was really damn tall, which made it a bit difficult for you to figure out a way to be the one who embraced him, but you made it work. He took a deep breath and relaxed into your touch, as he always did. You were so thankful that you always had that effect on him. “Don’t worry about anything.” You pulled away slightly and ruffled his hair. “This year will be perfect.”

“With you there, I’m sure it will.” He winked, back to his usual flirtatious self. He really was just being friendly, at least that’s what you told yourself.

“I’ll see you then!” You chirped, gave him one last hug, this time for yourself, and turned away, not bothering to hide your anticipation.

Chapter Text

You would never, ever admit this to Finch. Maybe. Here you were, all dressed up in a cute sweater, your favorite skirt, and a pair of cozy leggings. What were you doing? Leaning propped up on your couch, feet in the air, arms folded over the top of the chair and staring intently out your window through the blinds. Yeah, he told you when he would be arriving and that he would text you, but you couldn’t help but wait anyway. As you have been, for the past hour. It was fine though, because you did this with most of your other friends too. It was just platonic, you wouldn’t want to do anything too romantic and make him feel uncomfortable.

A grumble of wheels signaled his arrival, soon followed by the closing of a door. You instantly leapt to your feet and ran to the door. You yanked it open, a smile lighting up your face at the boy before you. He was walking up the sidewalk leading to your house, a slight nervous twitch in every movement. His hands were in his pockets, but you knew he must be fiddling with some loose change or something within them. The wind was sending his hair every which way, making him look like quite the wreck. It was absolutely adorable. He had like twelve different jackets on, the constantly freezing boy he was. You mentally chasitized yourself for the fact that you wanted more than anything to be cuddled up to him when he was such a smush.

“Finch!” You called out and ran towards him.

“Hey!” He said, before he was promptly swept into a hug. “You’re rather… perky today”

“Of course I am, you’re here! And I need to make sure you have an amazing time today.” You stepped back, bouncing once more. This time it wasn’t from excitement. The pavement was absolutely freezing, and in your rush you had forgotten to don shoes. “Can we please go in?”

“You don’t have to ask.” He laughed. “It’s your house.”

“Right, sorry.”

“You’re good.” He gave his signature response to your constant apologies.

“Come on!” You ran back to your doorway and held it open for him, already shivering from the cold. His long strides allowed him to reach you within a few swift steps. He looked so goofy every time he ran.

Stepping over the threshold, you sighed in relief upon the warm gust of air you were surrounded by. He seemed nearly as glad as you were. You could hear your family talking softly from the other room. You only had your mother, brother, grandmother, and uncle over this year. You’d be joining them soon enough for dinner, but first you wanted to help Finch calm his nerves. He was still extremely jittery.

You plopped down on the couch and patted the cushion next to you. “What’s up? It’s just us.”

With a sigh, he joined you and began running his hands through his hair. “I’m just a bit nervous. I feel like I’m imposing, or that something will go wrong. I don’t want to make an ass of myself and embarrass you in the process.”

He was referring to the constant profanity that spewed out of his mouth. This boy was filled with curses and innuendos. It wasn’t a day with Finch if he wasn’t sticking out his tongue and running his hands down his thighs. For some reason though, he was always less sexual towards you, which always puzzled you. It didn’t seem to be that he thought you unable to handle it, and he had been like this before he knew your less than pleasant history.

“Finch, I want you here. My family knows how much I care about you, and all the wonderful things you’ve done for me. They haven’t even met you and they love you. Trust me, you can’t change that in one night.” You lightly punched him, it was more of a tap than anything. Just a goofy motion you always shared.

“Why would you want me here?” He asked. He never seemed to accept compliments from you, or any compassion at all. It just confused him, which in turn confused you. How did this wonderful person have no clue how wonderful he was?

“Because I care about you. You’re my friend and I care about you, no matter what you say.” You lightly began combing through his hair, lifting up strands here or there. He leaned into your touch, relaxing instantly. “Trust me on this one, I promise you’ll be okay.”

“Fine.” He reluctantly agreed. You stayed like that together until he had completely stilled, his shaking hands calm. You would do anything to hold them, but kept that urge for yourself.

“Okay,” you began, “I should probably introduce you to everyone now.” You stood up and he soon followed. You bit your lip, hoping this would go well. You didn’t want to break your promise to Finch, and you wanted him to be happy today, to show him that holidays can be something beautiful, and not something to be feared. It would be fine. It had to be.

Chapter Text

The family dinner went absolutely wonderful. Within moments Finch had warmed up to your family, and they absolutely adored him. Of course they would, who wouldn’t love Finch? Knowing his allergies, you had made sure there was plenty he could eat-even for dessert! There was more than enough room for you to have personal space, but instead, you and Finch had sat rather close together, your knees bumping against each other every few moments.

At one point during dinner, near the end, you had found yourself lost in a hazy fog. You felt the gentle tug of sleep, and with it a creeping feeling of sentimentality. The past year had been so rough, and the previous November had been so bad that you couldn’t even remember Thanksgiving. The fact that you were able to be here, now, surrounded by people you loved so much… It was wonderful. Each little moment of this was so, so wonderful. You turned to look at finch and drank in his features. You loved his distinctive sharp jaw, his cheekbones that were always prominent from smiling when around you, and, god help you, his lips. You didn’t let yourself think on that train of thought for too long, but allowed yourself to openly stare at him, entirely grateful to have this man as your friend.

“What’s up?” Finch looked at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m just so happy I know you.” Your words were soft and genuine.

“Um-er… I’m not that great.” He began fidgeting with his napkin, the closest thing at hand.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “Yeah you are.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he replied in kind.

You turned back to your mashed potatoes and began shoveling them in your mouth, like the elegant princess you are. When you glanced up again, potatoes slightly smeared around your mouth, your cheeks filled to the brim, you were met with a lovely sight. You heart skipped a beat when you found Finch staring at you with the weirdest expression. He had a soft smile that was nearly a smirk, the happiness meeting his eyes. As soon as he saw that you had noticed him, he glanced away again.

“What’s the story behind that?” He asked you, pointing at a nearby painting. It was of a squirrel riding a unicycle, the art surprisingly realistic.

You shrugged. “I saw it at goodwill and I liked it, so we hung it up.”

“Wow, you really do have such great taste in interior design.”

“Hush it.” You lightly nudged him, and he nudged you back.

“Make me.” He said, and damn, you wished it worked like the movies where now is would be the time where you two would passionately make out. But this wasn’t a movie, and your family was literally three feet away, so it wouldn’t be the classiest choice. So, instead, you concocted a plan.

“I’ll go get dessert,” you announced to the group. Pushing out your chair, you made your way over to the kitchen. On the counter were the brownies you made that catered to Finch’s weird food choices, as well as a normal pumpkin pie for everyone else. First, you carried the pie out for everyone and laid it down on the table, refusing to look at Finch the whole time. Then, you delivered the brownies. While setting them on the table, you maintained eye contact with Finch, who seemed to be nearly watering at the mouth. This boy really liked his chocolate. Before he could take one, you pushed them away, but kept one hand hovered over it.

“So what was that about my interior design skills?” You smirked.

“You know bribes don’t work on me, right?” He leaned back in his chair, resisting your interrogation. But you knew you would have him soon enough. He wasn’t even looking at you half the time, he kept glancing back over to the delicious gooey squares you had made for him.

“Oh, I know.” You said, lightly picking up a brownie, looking as if you were going to eat it.

“I won’t change my mind, your-mmmf!” Halfway though his sentence, you shoved the brownie into his mouth, grinning mischievously at your victory.

“Now you’ve been hushed.” You were still smiling as he reluctantly ate the rest of the brownie that was crumbling apart in your hand. You hoped you weren’t blushing from the sensation of his lips against your skin. Now wasn’t the appropriate time for that. It would never be. Still, it wouldn’t hurt if… “Do you like it?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah of course, they’re great.” He reached over and snagged a few more.

“I’m glad, I actually made those for you.” You admitted.

“You did?” He looked at you in shock. Really, you would think you’d shown him nothing but hatred with how often he looked at you like that. Why was he always surprised by this? He really needed more self esteem.

“Of course. I told you I wanted today to be perfect, remember?”

“Thank you. Maybe that squirrel doesn’t look half bad after all.”

“Oh hush.”

“Gladly,” He wiggled his eyebrows, “if it means I can have more brownies.”

“You say that as you already have three in your hands.”

“Yeah but,” He whined, “It’s not the same without you.”

You ignored the rush of adrenaline you felt at his words. “But if I’m feeding you, then I won’t be able to eat any.” You crossed your arms.

He leaned in slightly. “Then I guess I’ll have to return the favor.”

“Not happen-” Damn him, he just stole your move. His hand was so soft and gentle, his thumb and index finger slightly pressing into your cheeks to force the square in. You did what you had to do and took it from him, your heart pounding in your chest. Chewing, you had to admit you hadn’t done half bad this time. That made sense, considering you had been making test batches for weeks. Thankfully, Race and Albert hadn’t seemed to mind being guinea pigs.

“I hate you.” You pouted. He just stared at you intently, scrunching his entire face up. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for the truth.” He said simply before continuing his search.

“The truth?” You said, and couldn’t help but break out into a small smile, you could never keep a straight face around him.

“There it is!” He pointed at your smile. “You’ve never been very good at lying.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. This boy. “I will never understand you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He grinned.

In any case, you were glad he seemed to be enjoying himself thus far. You could check dinner off your checklist! Now it was time for the fun part.

Chapter Text

“Goodbye! Have fun!” You called out, waving to the rest of your family, who were all heading out for a round of drinks. Being just slightly underage for drinking, you and Finch had to be left home. That was perfectly fine with you. Spending time alone with Finch was nothing new for you, the two of you were constantly joint at the hip wherever you went.  It was to the point that once, much to your embarrassment, Albert had once asked whether you were siblings. That had been a rather awkward moment. You had immediately shouted your denial, so loud it must have been suspicious as hell. Wisely, neither of you had ever brought it up again.

Turning to look at Finch, a devilish grin spread across your face. “Now for the best part of the evening!”

“Oh? Is there something better than food?”

“Mmm you’ll see!” You lightly gripped his hand for just a second to signal for him to follow you.

Running to your kitchen, you slid across the floor in your socks, landing at a sudden stop by the counter. You rummaged through the cabinet, looking for your prize. “Who says only adults can have fun?” You turned around with a smirk, lifting the bottle in your hand for Finch to see.

“I thought you didn’t drink.” He said, raising an eyebrow at you.

You laughed and moved you hand off the label. “It’s non alcoholic apple cider. I’m not trying to get you wasted-yet.” You winked at him.

He placed his hand on his chest, “I’m scandalized. I can’t believe you would ever imply that a holy child such as yours truly would even think of drinking.”

You lightly flicked him before turning to look for mugs. “I haven’t forgotten that time you called me crying with Elmer and Race. There’s no way the three of you weren’t drunk.”

His face flushed with embarrassment. ‘We don’t speak of that night.”

“That doesn’t erase it from my memory” You teased him, finally finding two cups you liked. You couldn’t help but grin when you set your chosen pair on the table, which read “Fuck it”, and “I’m it”. Very mature.

When Finch read them, he let out a bark of laughter. “How did I not know you owned these?”

“Because I was saving them for a special occasion?” You fiddled with the bottle, taking an embarrassing amount of time to open it. Finally, you managed it and poured the contents out. The scent pleasantly wafted up to you, crisp and sweet. You took both the mugs and tossed them in the microwave for minute to warm them up.

“Ah yes, sweet radiation.” Finch was now sitting on one of your counters, a habit you had picked up from him as well.

“As if it’s enough to turn you away from anything edible.”

“Touche. So, what’s the plan?”

“Call it cliche, but we’re gonna watch the greatest movie of all time.”

“And that would be?”

“Mean Girls, of course!” Finch rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. A few months back you had convinced him and the rest of the newsies and Katherine to watch it, and had only slightly regretted it once they had begun to quote it constantly.

“Hey-the timer just went off. I guess you should go fetch our drinks.” He was already laughing at his joke, and despite how bad the pun was, you joined in with him.

You handed his drink over to him and clutched your own in your hands, savoring the warmth. Both of you had perpetually freezing hands, so every little bit of heat was relished. Together, the two of you made your way into your bedroom, which was simple but cozy. Your bed was just big enough to fit the both of you, and on a dresser facing it was your TV, which had access to Netflix. You handed your cup over to Finch to hold as you set everything up, drawing closed the blinds and dimming the lights.

Finally, you crawled up next to him and got settled in. You were sitting next to each other, but awkwardly kept from touching. You still didn’t know what his boundaries were with physical interaction and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Whatever his reason for shying away from you as well, you didn’t know. Still, the two of you pulled up blankets together and gingerly sipped from your mugs. Well, at least you did. He gulped half of his down in a few quick seconds, only to screw up his face at the potent taste. You couldn’t help but giggle at his display.

When the movie started, the two of you easily slipped into your usual banter, only half paying attention.

“Okay hear me out, right.” Finch started with the cursed words.

“What’ll it be this time?” You braced yourself for whatever strange proclamation was coming.

“So you know how it’s really cold right?”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t see where this was going.

“And we’re watching Netflix?” His fingers were drumming against his cup. (He had the “I’m it” mug, of course).

“And?”

“Does this mean this is, Netflix and Chill?” He asked, a dorky grin splitting his face.

You cackled with laughter. “You are the worst.” You kept yourself from adding on, “And I love you.”

“I live to please.” He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours.

You continued back and forth for ages, just joke upon joke, sometimes at the expense of the characters. Some highlights included bickering over whether Janice’s hair was cute or not, about which newsies mirrored which characters, (Crutchie was a complete Cady, a wholesome bean), and whether it was indeed a better approach to conflict to just tackle someone. At one point, after a particularly funny joke, you found yourself leaning your head on his shoulder. As soon as you realized what you were doing, you sat up again, quickly apologizing.

“You’re good.” He said, looking at you confused.

“I shouldn’t have done it without asking.” You explained. He just laughed at you before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Is this good?” He asked, and though it was dim, you could’ve sworn his face turned a little redder. It was probably your imagination though.

“Yeah, of course.” You said, and let him pull you closer into him. Your attention completely slipped away from the movie, and all you could think of was how comfy this moment was. He was layered in like eight hoodies, the cold boy he was, so he was such a soft squishy mess, warm up against you. A graceful smile was stretched across your face, a similar peaceful one on his. The two of you quieted slightly and turned your attention towards the movie-at least he seemed to. You barely paid attention to what was going on, instead drinking in this moment. Every once in a while you would glance over to him, admiring all the little details that marked his face as his own.

You could happily stay like this forever. That wasn’t really how it worked out though, because even in this moment, Finch couldn’t stay still for long. He kept shuffling his legs, in turn moving you around with him too. You didn’t mind too much though. You loved everything that made him, him, including how fidgety he always was. Yes, this moment really was wonderful.