Archive of Our Own

Finch was roused to consciousness by a repeating terror called an alarm. 

It was wholly unwelcome and the device on which it played deserved to be chucked out a window. He hoped someone would do it in his stead. His face twisted in annoyance at the disruptive sound, eyes pressed firmly shut for the time being. 

He hadn’t woken up to one in years. On some random day back in middle school, Finch’s body set up an internal clock for him. As a long-running result, he would get tired around midnight every night, and would automatically wake himself up at six o’clock every morning. His parents loved the consistency, and while Finch didn’t mind it too much either, it made sleeping in on the weekends harder. 

Lo and behold, it’s Saturday morning and an alarm had woken him up before his carefully conducted push to 8:30. 

Well, Finch didn’t actually know the time, but it didn’t quite feel like it was 8:30 yet. 

Suddenly, he heard some smacking from across the dorm room, and then everything went blissfully silent once again. Finch, not currently awake enough to speak clearly, hoped that his mental thanks reached his roommate Albert’s mind. 

He shifted in his bed, pulling fitfully at his covers where he’d gotten tangled up during the night. Depending on what followed the alarm, it would determine whether he went back to sleep or not, so he didn’t entirely unravel himself from his gathered warmth. 

Listening closely, Finch picked up on a small amount of movement, then nothing else. How helpful. 

Finch lethargically flipped around to face the room instead of the wall, feeling for the edge of his bed to prevent rolling off. It had happened before, too many times to count, and that was enough to instill a habit to check. 

In the new position, it still seemed pretty dark behind his eyelids — not a promising start. With effort, Finch opened his eyes just enough to see Albert’s bed and the curtained window between them. 

“It is not morning yet.” 

Finch’s grumpy statement referred to the near pitch blackness of outside and in the dorm room. The sun wasn’t even up yet, so he definitely shouldn’t be either. Since it was a weekend, it really drove the point home that he did not want to be awake this early. The alarm clock disruption required a damn good explanation. 

Off to the left, Albert huffed a quiet laugh. His eyes appeared to be shut, but the way he was laying with his arms out from under his blanket suggested he was somewhat more awake than Finch. That was usually the case with them. 

“It’s nice that your voice is the first thing I heard today,” Albert whispered. 

Those sleepy words had an emotion tied with it, and if Finch didn’t know any better, he’d call it adoration. That would be kind of strange though, because they always woke up to each other’s voices, so this wasn’t even something new. 

Nonetheless, it was thoughtful to say. Just as Finch was about to reciprocate his friend’s kindness, Albert’s eyes shot open. Stiffly, he laid there for a few moments, before scrambling for his phone and avoiding eye contact with a confused Finch. 

“Technically my stupid alarm was the first thing I heard today, which I’m sorry for, by the way. It’d be rude to take back what I said about your voice though, so I won’t.” Albert spoke quickly, like he was in a rush to talk about anything else. 

He’d been like this for the past week. The Sunday morning after their stargazing trip to Finch’s hometown had been uncharacteristically awkward for a while, and Finch soon learned that Albert picked up a new, unexpected habit. For as long as Finch had known Albert, his best friend never leaned into giving compliments all that much, and he was even worse at knowing how to accept them. Finch understood that; some people just weren’t used to that kind of appreciation. 

So when Albert suddenly changed his tune on giving compliments to only Finch, it was understandable why Finch would be a little confused. 

It was an occasional thing, said about twice a day — just often enough for him to pick up on it. Albert would randomly tell Finch a sweet compliment, then he’d backpedal like he never meant for those words to be spoken into the universe. To sum it up, Albert had taken on a harmless habit but he seemed to… regret it, for some reason? 

Finch didn’t understand it. 

“You’re allowed to be openly appreciative of your friends when you’re hardly awake, you know,” he stated in a light tone, stifling a yawn with his hand before quickly tucking it back under his covers. The air was chilly against his sleep-warm skin. 

(What didn’t require mentioning was that Albert was being openly appreciative of Finch and that it had happened before when they were both fully awake.) 

Albert merely hummed in acknowledgment, attention locked on his phone. His face was lit by the screen, its glow stark against the otherwise dark room. Finch studied him for a moment before speaking again. 

“For what it’s worth,” he said, “I also enjoy waking up to your voice, even when my body technically wakes me up automatically every day.” 

The comment garnered a small laugh and Finch took it in stride. Maybe he should just start returning Albert’s compliments, assuming it made sense within the context? He’d give it some thought. 

“Thanks,” Albert tacked on, as if it was an afterthought. He shifted to lean up more in bed. “I’m still sorry for waking you though. When I set my alarm last night, I was only thinking about my plans for the morning.” He glanced over to Finch. “You can go back to sleep. I’ll be quiet.” 

“I’m curious now,” Finch replied, but upon catching Albert sigh, he wondered if he’d overstepped a line. “Was it supposed to be secret, or like, private? I can leave you to it if that’s the case.” 

“No, it’s just —” Albert took a second to think. “I was — no, I am going to watch the sunrise.” 

“Oh.” That was surprising, considering he’d never done that before. Finch continued to say, “That’s cool. I’m sure it’ll be really pretty.” 

Albert nodded as he stood up. He avoided eye contact for a handful of seconds, before once again looking at Finch, who smiled brightly at him. Finch was glad to see a smile in return, and it appeared to be of the adoring sort again. 

“You’re so…” His roommate trailed off. 

Finch prompted him, curious. “I’m what?” 

Even while shaking his head, Albert’s smile stayed. “You look comfy. I was going to offer for you to join me, but you seem pretty content where you are now.” 

He walked away then, searching until he found a hoodie to wear over his pajama shirt. Finch watched silently, relished the warmth of his bed for a couple more seconds, then started to get up too. It didn’t take long for Albert to notice and immediately try to talk him out of it, but Finch spoke over his friend. 

“Fi, you really don’t have to —” 

“I’m already awake —” 

“Because of my stupid alarm —” 

“— because we were talking, and I’d love to accept your offer to watch the sunrise.” Finch swung his legs over the side of the mattress and waved a dismissive hand at Albert. “And I don’t mind in the slightest. This’ll be fun, and I’ve heard that I’m wonderful company.” 

Albert rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Put on a hoodie or something then. It’s going to be chilly out there.” 

Without standing up, Finch looked around nearby. His usual jacket would’ve been on the back of his desk chair, but it was nowhere to be seen. The search continued, but before Finch could spot anything else, he jolted as a heavy item of clothing suddenly hit his chest. He picked it up from his lap and it unfolded into a hoodie. Specifically, a dark purple one of Albert’s that he’d worn recently. 

“Just wear that, and I’ll bring a blanket anyway,” Albert explained, hastily gathering the blanket from his bed. 

Finch’s brows furrowed as his gaze went from the hoodie to Albert and back again. He slid it on, and breathed in the lingering scent on the fabric. Obviously, it smelled like Albert (kind of like fireplace smoke) and that was… yeah. A thing. Anyway, Finch grabbed his phone then turned to see Albert already looking at him. 

Once their gazes connected, Albert broke eye contact first and readjusted the bundle in his arms. Compelled by a force unknown, Finch extended a hand out to Albert and said, “Lead me.” 

There was a brief silence. A smirk toyed across Albert’s lips even as he rolled his eyes and took Finch’s outstretched hand in one of his own, lightly pulling Finch to his feet. Despite the fact that Finch still needed to slip on shoes, he maintained his grip on his roommate’s hand; Albert didn’t let go, either. They’d never held hands before, so Finch was actually very surprised when Albert even accepted it in the first place. Then again, Finch surprised himself by offering his hand at all. 

It was… yeah. Another thing. 

Anyway, the pair was ready to go and left the dorm, Finch walking hand-in-hand with his best friend to go watch the sunrise together. 

The sky was barely starting to lighten up now. Finch and Albert were outside, having completely left the dorm building behind. They were heading towards — well, Finch didn’t know where yet, but up ahead was just off-campus housing. He also hadn’t asked for details yet, instead trusting whatever plans Albert had for this outing. 

An outing that was supposed to be solo. 

But Finch was here when he would’ve been asleep otherwise. He was offered to come along, so it wasn’t like he coerced his way into this position. Regardless, he couldn’t help but think that maybe he should’ve just stayed at the dorm and let Albert have his privacy with the sunrise. 

“Have you ever watched a sunrise before?” 

Albert’s question drew Finch back to reality, and he nodded. “I usually wake up with it.” 

“Do you ever just sit and watch it though?” Albert pushed, gesturing vaguely into the distance while still holding a bundled up blanket in the hand that wasn’t warming Finch’s. 

“I’m sure I have,” Finch replied automatically. Upon thinking back, though, he was struck with the idea that he hadn’t actually done that before. Tilting his head, he amended, “Well, maybe not. Or maybe it’s been too long since then and I just don’t really remember it.” 

“I’m happy to be here while you get a refresher then,” Albert said in that possibly adoring tone he’d acquired over the past week. He caught himself in the act and cleared his throat. “It’s been a while for me too, which is why I planned it with the alarm earlier.” 

Finch hummed in response. At least Albert had confirmed that he was glad for Finch’s presence in this seemingly random morning quest. He actually posed the question of why to his friend, interested to know more. 

“There’s no exact reason,” Albert claimed simply. “I chose the weekend because we don’t have classes and I knew we didn’t have any plans.” 

“We?” 

“What?” 

“You said that you planned for today because we don't have classes or plans. Like you intended to do this with me,” Finch explained, leaving out the unspoken: That’s not what you said earlier. 

Albert’s mouth opened and closed in realization. His answer came out slow and unsure. “I did want you to come with me. Somehow I thought it would work without asking you first.” 

Finch laughed, bumping his shoulder into Albert’s. “Why would you think that?” 

“I don’t know,” Albert admitted, also laughing at himself. 

There was something underlying his tone that Finch couldn’t identify. If he had to guess, then it would be that Albert might’ve had a certain reason why he… avoided (he suspected that Albert hadn’t forgotten) asking Finch about this beforehand. He idly wondered about the motivation behind that possible decision as they finally approached a house. 

It barely counted as off-campus with how close it was, and yet it appeared to be deceptively empty with no cars out front. To counteract the initial assumption, the sign out front listed the small, three-bedroom, two-story house as unavailable to rent, and there were decorations peaking through closed blinds in the upstairs windows. For such a desirable location, it made sense why this place was taken — not to mention that it actually looked pretty decent, too. The building might’ve been built within the last five to eight years, and it appeared to hold up quite well with good paint and a clean exterior. 

“How is off-campus housing going to help us see the sunrise better?” Finch questioned. He turned around to find that other houses blocked the view of the growing light in the sky. “I can’t see anything from down here.” 

“It’ll help,” Albert commented, a hint of mischievousness easily catching Finch’s attention. His friend squeezed his hand, said, “Trust me,” then released their hand hold. 

Finch didn’t mean to trail after it. 

The movement was purely reflexive, to reach out again after losing what little warmth it provided in the breezy morning air. He pulled back instantly, his heart doing a weird little flip in his chest, and Finch just opted to watch Albert instead. His friend had stopped at the door of the screened-in front porch, talking before continuing. 

“Alright, since I know how you’d react if I just started doing shit, I’m going to explain the situation and my plan first. Okay?” he asked, and Finch nodded, already kind of worried. Why would he need to explain anything? Albert took the cue to elaborate. “A few friends of mine — Michael, Vincent, and Dominic, obviously not your twin brother though — rented out this house for the semester but they’re all away on a weekend trip right now.” 

“Okay…” Finch drawled, wrapping his arms around himself for warmth (he was rather chilly all of a sudden). 

Albert carefully let himself into the porch and started to grab something heavy. He spoke loud enough for Finch to hear. “They told me about this,” and what the fuck, that was a whole goddamn ladder, “and how they use it to climb up onto the porch’s roof to just hang out sometimes.” 

“What the fuck?” Finch voiced aloud, incredulous and frozen in shock. He watched as Albert set the ladder up against the porch roof’s edge, securing it in place before looking back to Finch. 

“They gave me permission to come hang out here for a bit if I wanted…” Albert hesitated. “If I needed to. It’ll get us a better view of the sunrise, and I promise it’s safe. I wouldn’t have planned to do it otherwise.” 

It was Finch’s turn to hesitate, weighing the truth of his friend’s words. A quick glance to the sky showed they were losing time as it continued to gradually brighten. He really didn’t want to freak out over something so clearly explained. 

Besides, he trusted Albert. Wasn’t that enough? 

“Don’t let me fall.” 

“I’d catch you before that happens.” 

Finch shoved all his worries away, determined to ignore them until they were forgotten. He approached Albert at the ladder, who gave him a sweet smile before Finch started the climb up. It was quick, and he was grateful to find the porch roof stable, not creaking under his weight. To keep it a surprise, Finch made himself wait to glimpse the sky, instead taking the blanket from Albert while he also climbed up to join him. 

The pair got situated to lean against the house’s wall: Albert sat on Finch’s left, his legs fully outstretched whereas Finch kept his knees bent and close to his body. The breeze was minutely stronger at this height, though it was different enough for Finch to shiver as it blew past them. 

“Here, let’s share the blanket,” Albert suggested. He unraveled it and carefully draped it over his and Finch’s shoulders. The size of it pushed them closer together, touching at the shoulders and hips. It was… warm. 

Albert sighed in contentment, and Finch finally looked up from his lap. Before his gaze landed on the reason they came here, it lingered elsewhere first. His best friend had a faint, resting smile on his face as he observed the slowly changing morning sky. It was… soothing. 

Then Finch’s gaze traveled further beyond him. 

Cloud coverage was sparse in the direction of the rising sun and provided a clear view. The sky had lightened to the soft blue of a calm daybreak, temporarily chased away as the sun rose gracefully above the horizon and coated everything in deep orange-red hues. Those same shades tinted the faraway clouds, setting them aglow along the edges. Trees and buildings lit up and started on the day-long arch of shadows, streaming through rustling leaves and curtained windows. Morning dew sparkled where the sun could reach it. 

Undeniably, the sunrise was beautiful. 

Finch had no idea how long he sat there on that roof. Completely fascinated, he stared in awe as nature worked its magic. The only noises were the pleasant chirping of birds, faint, monotonous traffic, and another sigh to his left. 

The effort needed to focus back on Albert was minimal for Finch. To his knowledge, neither of them had moved, still touching, and Finch felt that weird little flip in his chest again when looking at his best friend. Sunrise offered Albert the same treatment the clouds had gotten, also bathing his body in stunning orange-red. The comparison to fire came easily to mind when Finch observed the effect on Albert’s already orange-red hair. The gentle wind caught and tousled it, further adding to the idea. His hair was akin to flames and just as, if not more, entrancing than the sunrise. 

Undeniably, Albert was beautiful. 

Such a bold realization caused a fitting panic in Finch’s mind — both in positive and confused ways — but his body simply relaxed. His head tipped back against the house’s wall, and his legs slid down to lay flat and match Albert’s own. Glancing down, one of Finch’s hands itched to hold one of Albert’s again; it was nice before, it’d be even better a second time, he was sure of it. 

“This is magnificent,” Albert breathed out, the first time either of them had spoken in several minutes. He wasn’t wrong, but Finch couldn’t bring himself to follow Albert’s line of sight yet. 

Wistfully and oh so quietly, Finch said, “You’re magnificent.” 

Then Albert turned to him with an equally quiet hum, questioning, and fuck. How didn’t Finch notice Albert’s eyes before? They were a lovely green, but when the sun’s rays graced them, they turned more golden and vibrant. Finch’s breath caught in his throat, entirely off-kilter with everything he saw and in turn how he felt about it all. 

(If he suspected that Albert might have been taking in the sights, too? Well, Finch might have forgotten how to breathe.) 

“Are you okay, Fi?” Albert voiced his concern, giving him a reassuring smile. 

Finch blinked, trying to remember how to function (his lungs needed air, right), and smiled back. “Yeah, I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“You were staring, just a bit,” Albert teased. 

“You were staring, too,” Finch countered. He bumped Albert’s shoulder, his hand moving of its own accord with the action and landing beside Albert’s — the one that Finch held earlier, that provided him warmth. That itch to reconnect was stronger now. 

“Of course I was. Just look at the amazing view.” Albert gestured towards the broad expanse of the sky, the sunrise wrapping up with its orange-red streaks and settling to drift across its usual path. But he didn’t look out when he spoke. 

No, he kept his eyes on Finch. 

“It’s truly amazing, I’ll give you that,” Finch managed to return his friend’s adoring tone, even while willing his cheeks to not blush bright pink. To deter the tension (attention) that Finch honestly wasn’t sure whether he was capable of handling, he said, “How much longer do you want to stay out here?” 

Albert finally looked away, and Finch refused to be disappointed by it. “Are you in a rush to leave? Because I don’t have anywhere to go.” 

“I’m not trying to rush anything,” Finch assured him. “The air is just kind of chilly still.” 

“I suggest a compromise.” Albert started to move a little bit. “I can keep you warm and we can stay out here for another… ten minutes?” 

“How are you going to keep me warm?” Finch prompted, far too eager to know the answer. 

“For starters, I can do this,” Albert wrapped an arm over Finch’s shoulders, adjusting the blanket on top of them, “and then I can also do this.” He gently took both of Finch’s hands and placed his own over them — not quite holding them, but providing warmth nonetheless. Reluctantly, Albert glanced over to Finch and asked, “Is this okay?” 

Nodding, Finch shifted to press himself even closer (for comfort and more warmth, obviously). “Ten minutes.” 

“Ten minutes,” Albert echoed. 

The pair focused back on the sky. The sunrise proper had long since ended, but that didn’t dampen the serenity of early morning and all its prevailing beauty. Finch’s mood certainly couldn’t be tarnished; this particular situation with this particular person was too perfect. 

A person that Finch was seeing differently now. 

I have a crush on Albert. 

The declaration was true, undoubtedly so. Sure, Finch was prone to overthink things, but this was something he didn’t believe he could overthink. Or at least, he hoped that he wouldn’t overthink it. Being romantically attracted to one of his best friends was simple, plain as day, though that wasn’t to say it wasn’t extraordinary, because it was. 

He felt giddy and excited about the prospect of a crush — his first real one! — and yet there was a familiarity beside it, something he’d always known, deep down. Finch just needed the right push to see and embrace it. Watching the sunrise with Albert, or watching the sun rise over Albert, rather, was that push and Finch couldn’t be happier. 

“Fi?” Albert broke the silence roughly halfway through their ten minute extension, Finch hummed. “There actually was a reason why I wanted to come watch the sunrise. Do you mind if I tell you about it?” 

“You can tell me whatever you’re comfortable with. I don’t mind at all,” Finch replied earnestly. 

Albert took a deep breath. With how they were pressed together, Finch felt more than heard it. 

“Okay, so you know that I have six siblings,” Albert started to explain. “They’re all adopted, and they’re all twins — three pairs of two. As you can probably imagine, my house was always in a constant state of chaos. Two parents with six kids was already a lot, and then my mom had me, and let’s say I didn’t exactly fit in. The twins that were closest to my age were still seven years older, so there’s a natural gap that I was never able to bridge across.” 

Finch nodded to show he was listening. 

“To cut to what I’m trying to say, my siblings already had each other. They already had their best friends for life at seven, nine, and twelve years old, so a new baby showing up without another half was just…” Albert considered his words. “Bittersweet, I guess, but they wouldn’t tell me that. Either way, I never got too close with any of them and found ways to occupy my time alone — when I could actually get it, anyway.” 

Some things clicked into place for Finch. He said, “Like watching the sunrise by yourself. No one else would be up that early, I presume?” 

“It was the calmest time of day,” Albert confirmed, nearly nostalgic. “And sometimes my mom would be there to watch with me… those days were nice. But most of the time it was just me, my alarm not waking up a ‘second half’ that I didn’t have, and no one would see me on the back porch at 5:30 in the morning for the sunrise.” His voice lowered when he spoke again. “I haven’t done it in years.” 

“Why did you want to do it today?” Finch matched his friend’s volume. He carefully twisted one hand so his palm was open to Albert, a silent offer. 

Albert’s eyes flicked down to the movement. His fingers were frozen for only a brief second, then he intertwined them with Finch’s, accepting the offer. 

“Because I wanted to watch the sunrise with someone,” Albert admitted, holding Finch closer, perhaps unconsciously. “My alarm woke up someone else, and that same someone else is the only person who sees me up here on a random porch roof.” 

Finch smiled, his fondness growing to greater heights. “I’m glad you chose me to be your someone, then.” 

“Me too,” Albert breathed out in instant agreement, also smiling. “God, I’m so happy to know you, Fi. You’re perfect.” 

This was officially a lot to take in. Finch was sure his cheeks wouldn’t survive the morning, let alone the next hour, from all his smiling and blushing. 

Unfortunately, Albert noticed his blatantly genuine compliment and tried to backpedal. He was a stammering jumble of words, unsure how to undo something so heartfelt. But Finch really didn’t want him to figure it out and end up saying something that would actually dampen his mood. Instead Finch just shushed him with strategic hand holding, placing his free hand over the interlocked pair between them. 

“You’re perfect, too,” he copied, just as sweet and sincere. When Albert opened his mouth again, Finch added, “Let’s leave it at that, okay? We both said something nice about each other, and that can be all.” 

“Right. I’d… like that.” Albert chuckled a bit, and any tension in the air dissipated as the two best friends laughed together. They calmed down a minute later, and Albert asked, “You ready to head back now? Our ten minutes is definitely up.” 

“Yeah. I can’t wait to return to a heated dorm building.” Finch was already warm with Albert around and beside him, but they couldn’t walk like that back to the dorms, so he’d be cold again by the time they arrived. 

They were extra careful on the way back down the ladder, and Albert returned it to its rightful spot before they left the currently empty off-campus house. 

Finch and Albert hung out in their room until Race and JoJo woke up, which happened to be a solid hour after Finch and Albert arrived back. In the meantime, Albert had posted on his Instagram and tagged Finch in the single photo he shared, exactly what Finch did last week after their stargazing escapade. Somehow without Finch even noticing, Albert had apparently taken a stunning picture of the sunrise. Looking at it, there was no way to tell that Finch had been there at all, but the tag was implication enough. He made sure to leave a good comment, too. 

Once their friends were awake, Finch had a plan in mind: he wanted to talk to JoJo over in his room, and he wanted to send Race to Finch’s room to keep Albert company. He explained it to Albert, who in turn shared that he wanted to talk to Race anyway. Then Finch headed over to explain the plan to their two best friends, and the swapping worked out as intended. 

The door had barely shut behind Finch before JoJo posed a question. 

“Isn’t that Albert’s hoodie?” 

He forgot to take it off. 

“I’m pretty sure he wore it earlier this week,” JoJo said thoughtfully. “Why are you —?” 

“I have a crush on him,” Finch blurted out, cutting off his friend and stepping further into the dorm room. 

JoJo lit up in sheer excitement; he may have been aromantic, but he still adored the concept of romantic love. “Holy shit, that’s so cute!” 

Finch raised a hand. “Please don’t be so loud about it, Jo. I’m not trying to tell the whole building.” 

“Why not? It’s wonderful news,” JoJo claimed jokingly, then patted the open space on his bed. “Come sit, tell me everything.” 

As requested, Finch did precisely that. He sat down and recounted his entire morning, feeling like a teenager gossiping and swooning over a hot guy that caught his attention. JoJo was paying close attention and freaking out where appropriate, though at a more acceptable volume. 

“You two are made for each other, I swear,” JoJo commented afterwards while they grinned at one another. Finch’s nerves were on fire, but in a good way. 

“You really think so? I mean, I can picture us together pretty easily,” Finch said. He played with the purple sleeve of Albert’s soft hoodie, still picking up that fireplace smoke scent on the fabric. An idle thought of whether he could keep it passed his mind — besides, purple was his favorite color. 

JoJo reached over and took Finch’s hands in both of his own (it felt distinct from Albert’s touch). “Now, I want you to be honest with me, Fi.” 

“…Why do I feel like I’m about to be scolded?” Finch murmured, his laugh joining his friend’s. 

Between the four of them, JoJo was the oldest. They liked to joke that he was the only person capable of keeping Finch, Albert, and Race out of trouble. If he couldn’t do that and something stupid happened, then they were usually scolded. 

“That’s not what I was going to do,” JoJo assured. He bounced their hands once, like he needed to reset the conversation. “Do you plan on telling Al about your feelings sooner rather than later?” 

Finch’s head tilted to the side, hesitant to approach this. Slowly, he said, “How soon are we talking? Soon like ‘when I return to my dorm room’? Soon like ‘later today’? Or maybe ‘within the next forty-eight —” 

“Within a week, so by next Saturday,” JoJo quickly clarified, knowing very well that Finch would’ve kept going on his own. 

“Next Saturday is my archery competition.” Finch latched onto that fact and, apparently, had nothing else to add on the matter. 

JoJo squeezed his hands encouragingly. “Are you going to wait until then, or maybe some other time before or after that?” 

Suddenly nervous, Finch just shrugged. 

“To be fair, you don’t have to tell him.” 

“I want to.” 

“Good. Because I think he likes you, too.” 

There was a weighty silence. 

“Really?” was all that Finch could manage to whisper out. Honestly, he had no clue where all this stress was coming from. It was kind of annoying. Why couldn’t he just be happily in love already? 

“Yes, really,” JoJo replied in his most placating voice. “After everything you explained to me, and after everything I’ve seen from him this past week,” Finch’s eyebrows shot up at that — he didn’t think anyone else noticed the compliments thing — but JoJo continued, “I can say with a fair amount of confidence that Albert probably has a little crush of his own, on you.” 

Unable to remain sitting, Finch rose to his feet with a weird panicky, semi-strangled noise. He proceeded to pace the short length of the room. “And if you’re saying that, then you’re probably right. You’re always right about crushes — fuck.” 

“Hey, hey.” JoJo stood up and deliberately stopped Finch’s pacing by placing his hands on his upper arms. “You’re going to burn a hole into the floor.” 

“…It’s not my room so —” 

“Adrian.” They made eye contact. “This is a good thing, okay? I promise that whenever you decide to tell Al about your feelings, or if he gets to it first, you’ll both be in better positions. And this is just a suggestion, but maybe you should aim to confess sooner? We both know how you get when you wait.” 

He was right of course. Finch understood what he should do, and he genuinely wanted to go through with it, but this (possibly growing) bout of stress might hold him back for a few days first. Just to get him fully on edge and goddamn teetering, because he obviously needed that. 

Regardless, Finch gave JoJo a long hug for thanks and left his friend’s room. He happened to pass Race at the same time, who gave him a knowing smile, and Finch needed no further confirmation. It was all a matter of who confessed first, and Finch worried that he’d unwillingly play the long game with Albert.