Chapter Text
fading into view was a sunlit ceiling you didn’t remember falling asleep under. thankfully, the pungent smell of cigarettes reminded you where you were—a vegas hotel room. it was officially the first full day of your getaway with finn. you rubbed your sleep-ridden eyes to try to unblur the world. in the process, a figure popped into your peripheral. you froze.
next to you was a guy. a guy with messy brown hair, a white t-shirt, and the shape of a face you knew way too well. finn. as in, your best friend finn. you let out a sigh through your lips, but ended up taking it right back in. how on earth did the two of you end up in the same bed?
something scratched your now fidgeting fingers. there, on your ring finger, was a clearly fake sapphire ring. the cheap silver and gemstone both had tall rays of light bouncing off them. you furrowed your eyebrows. before you could even start to search for an answer, the sound of finn snoring made you jolt. you followed it.
sleeping on his stomach, finn looked the most relaxed he ever had: his mouth was slightly agape, his jaw wasn’t in its typical clench, and his palm was flat against the pillow, resting not too far from his face. on his ring finger was a ring with the same silver as yours. the only difference was the lack of gem.
your eyes flicked between your ring and his over and over again. if it was a dream, you surely would’ve done enough eye movement to out-rapid the REM. nothing was shifting. the rings were still there, the hotel room was still around you, and finn was still in bed next to you.
you shook him lightly. “finn. finn, wake up.”
finn rolled onto his back slowly, his limbs heavy from sleep. he carded a hand through his hair. normally, you would’ve grown heart eyes at that, but you had a way more important objective literally on both of your hands.
“what..” his voice slurred. “why are you in my bed?”
“i think we got married,” you said.
you dangled your ring in front of finn before he could react. he barely gave you time to move your hand before he flung his own right hand up to his face and flicked it forward like an old man trying to read the paper.
“how the fuck did this happen?”
he glared at you like you were the one at fault, a kind he hadn’t given you since before the two of you became actual friends. you crossed your arms over your sunken stomach.
“i don’t know.”
finn’s face softened. “sorry. i didn’t.. i meant it more towards myself.”
keeping his gaze averted from you, he approached the dresser to lean against it. you relaxed your arms. finn hadn’t scared you like that in a while, and you hoped he wouldn’t ever again. in his hand was the picture the wedding venue had provided you two with. having not seen it—while sober, at least—his reaction would be the blueprint to yours.
“do you remember anything that happened last night?” he had a hint of a smile on his face.
your body softened. “no, but i assume we did that thing where we got drunk and married.”
finn clenched his jaw. even in the sunlight pouring in from the window, the indent it’d created was still a painful reminder of every other time you’d seen that expression on his face. he set the picture on the dresser behind him. the silence of the room thickened beyond noise, your skin falling clammy.
“i don’t know how i’m going to explain this to gwen. with my dad and all.” he said.
being hungover and a newlywed, it took your mind a few seconds longer to connect the dots. you finally remembered finn’s father and all of the stories he’d told you about him. he was an alcoholic, an abusive one at that, and finn had emphasized that he didn’t want to follow in his footsteps. he wanted to be a role model for his younger sister. there was no phrase of comfort you could say that he hadn’t already heard, so you walked to stand next to him.
finn stared down at his feet. you tried to think of anything you could possibly do to make it somewhat better. when one idea came to mind, you went with it.
“it.. it was my suggestion,” you admitted in what you hoped was a non-obvious-lie voice.
“i think i suggested we drink.” finn mumbled.
“but i suggested we get drunk, and i suggested we get married.”
while you genuinely had no recollection of anything that night, you didn’t entirely put any of that past yourself. you’d had a crush on finn for a few months at that point. it was small enough for you to act normal around him when you were sober, but could’ve easily been too big for alcohol to mask.
you stood up from the dresser. finn’s eyes followed your movements as they usually did, then looked into yours. the darkness in them was basically a truth serum.
“i’m really sorry. i promise i will explain all of this to gwen. i’ll.. i’ll say i was the drunk one and dragged you into this,” you said.
finn kept his jaw clenched. the silence seemed like way too good of an opportunity not to fill. you placed a hand on the dresser to support your weight before speaking.
“i’m about to make this moment so much worse.” you warned. “and i’m really sorry.”
he sighed. “can’t really do that.”
“i have a crush on you.” you forced the words out of your mouth before you could think. “and i guess i just.. lost control.”
the fabric of the carpeting below your feet had never looked more interesting in your life. you started to wonder what the exact name of each color was. where did each string come from? could they pull you out of this situation? could they tie you to the floor so finn could leave and never have to see you again?
in your peripheral, finn was staring at you like his best friend—now turned spouse—just randomly told him they had a crush on him.
“actually?” his tone was unreadable.
“yeah.”
he stayed frozen for a moment. you squeezed your eyes shut so hard that fireworks burst behind them. finn shuffled, pulling something from the dresser behind him.
“i like you too. i think it’s made pretty obvious in this picture,” he said.
you opened your eyes and immediately took the photo in your fingers. there, in front of a minister dressed like elvis, was you and finn embracing each other as you exchanged vows. you were both wearing the outfits you’d drank, apparently gotten married, and fallen asleep in—him in a white t-shirt and jeans, you in a dressier outfit you’d insisted on bringing to go out in vegas. you both had huge, dazed smiles on your faces. it was like a scene pulled straight out of a romance movie.
you looked up from the photo at finn. your stomach filled with butterflies. sneaking a glance to his lips, the way they felt to kiss was one you recognized but didn’t remember experiencing, like a familiar daydream.
“it kinda sucks that our first kiss happened when we were both drunk.” you said, setting the picture back down. “we should make up for it.”
finn furrowed his eyebrows. “make up for it how?”
you flicked a more obvious glance down to his lips. finn blinked but eventually took the hint to lean in. just when you could feel his breath fanning on your skin, he paused, looking you in the eyes. you nodded in encouragement.
finn finally kissed you. only a few seconds of hesitant kissing passed before he brought his hand to keep your face in place. his grip was tight but secure, like how you’d imagine he’d grab your hand. your wedding kiss hadn’t been pictured, yet if that was what it was like, part of you was tempted to keep that ring on your finger forever. you smiled against his lips at the idea of the memory.
taking that as a signal for who knows what, finn pulled you off from the dresser by your waist, adjusting so your hearts were flush against each other. you instinctively placed your arms around his neck. somehow, through all of the movement, you two managed to keep your lips together. as the kiss progressed, the muscles that held you upright were slowly melting at his touch. the lightness started to spread to your chest. you reluctantly pulled away.
“hold on. i’m not used to kissing like that.” you took one of your hands from his neck, clutching your chest.
both of you laughed breathily. finn’s arms relaxed around you. you leaned your head on his shoulder. even from down there, you could feel the heat radiating from his face.
“finn blake blushing?” you hiked your eyebrows.
“i’m literally your husband.” he said through a smile that suited him better than anything.
you closed your eyes where you stood. finn’s chest suddenly seemed like the best pillow ever. it was warm, had a cotton casing—
“we both need breakfast.” finn broke the silence.
you picked up your head. “right.”