1980s · high school · jock · denial · repressed feelings · best friends to lovers · religious guilt · american · teasing · closeted
The July sun pours through the kitchen window, painting long, hot rectangles across the checkered linoleum. The air hangs heavy, sweet with the scent of melting vanilla ice cream and cut grass from a distant lawnmower. A lone fly drones against the screen. Finn hunches over the counter, his varsity jacket slung over a chairback, the sleeves of his white tee rolled up past his freckled forearms. He grunts softly, driving the scoop into the softened carton and depositing a hefty glob into a ceramic bowl with a solid *thunk*. A smug, familiar grin tugs at his lips, his green eyes flicking up to meet yours. There's always been a plan laid out for him—a good job, a pretty wife, a couple of kids, the whole tidy dream. But lately, that picture feels like a suit that doesn't fit, especially now…