#bUT HHHH i'm still screaming over how sweet this has been ;3;/ <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[badboysupr]

“Listen, Leo” was basically the verbal cue for Leo to not listen and bolt immediately.

And, oh, he felt it. As if he wasn’t already wriggling about like he had ants in his pants (by the way: would not recommend, especially if they’re fire ants), Finn taking on an uncharacteristically soft tone that had to be as painfully earnest as Leo had ever heard him made it nearly impossible to not visibly squirm. He also had to pause before saying anything, like that one “Listen, Leo” wasn’t already blaring alarms in Leo’s head louder than the police who’d chased them so frequently back in the day. . . . Finn dropped those two words, then figured making Leo wait for more was the greatest idea of mankind, and in those few moments where the guy was taking a breath—

Guilty as charged: Leo’s attention definitely darted to the door as if he could make a hasty escape before anything else came.

Of course, spoiler alert, the escape was never accomplished. (For some reason, when Finn was involved, it never was. Heck if Leo ever figured out why, considering the numerous chances he got both then and now.) And so, as the dude had the gall to just pour his heart out like they were on Dr. Phil, Leo had no choice (presumably) than to sit there and take it. (So what if he almost snorted at that thought and how applicable it was to so many other things between them . . . ?)

Finn just talked. And talked. And talked. Maybe he deserved some sort of award for it: both the heartfelt confessions, and his ability to somehow render Leo silent for long enough to get it all out. Though Leo listened, sure as Hephaestus had to be one of the most awkward gods to exist (Thank you for your winning qualities, Dad!), Leo could just as surely not hold eye contact. Finn was making a point to, good for him, but somewhere along the line, and due in part to his feeling like those aforementioned fire ants were crawling up and down his legs, Leo looked down, shuffled in his seat with the stupidest nerves.

Because it was stupid, right? C’mon . . . Finn wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He swallowed what had to be the biggest lump to ever form in his throat, uneasy fingers tugging at the cuffs of his pant legs while he heard the guy out. By the time Finn finally reached an end—which Leo only determined by a silence lasting a bit longer than just “Wait, I’m collecting my thoughts”—Leo assumed it was his turn to say something. He hated that, weirdly. He hated when it was his turn to talk on a subject like this. Give him literally anything else.

But he managed a broken scoff, pinched expression matching it beautifully. “Man, there must be something horribly wrong with you,” he grumbled, but the funniest thing here was that Leo couldn’t be sure if he was talking to Finn or himself. “You can’t just . . . do that, okay? That’s not fair.” Leo yanked a string off his pants, set it up in the quickest flash of fire. “I had, like, a whole vision of you in my head, right? ‘Knife Guy.’ The guy who didn’t take anyone’s shit, who knew his way around the streets, who taught me a few of those tricks . . . ” He hunched his shoulders, feeling a new flood of warmth in his face that he swiftly shook out. “The guy who hated me.”

Leo faced Finn critically. “And that was fine. I mean, I’d accepted it, y’know? That was all just, ‘Haha wow what a crazy past I had! Moving on!’ But then I come across you again, and this . . . ? This is how you are, now?” He glared down at the soup, as if that was the most offensive thing here. “How in the world am I supposed to feel about you? It was easy when I could just . . . ” His knees tucked up to his chest, and Leo blew out a heavy exhale. “I dunno.” Seriously, how dare you suddenly be a decent person.

Leo wasn't wrong: his expression when Finn broke the oh-so-terrible news was pretty damn priceless. Faced with the dawning horror and shock that briefly painted that cute face, Finn could only laugh—but it was a humorless sound, quickly petering into a barely-concealed grimace.

Look, Finn knew that the awkwardness between them was his own fault. Only a few short years separated him from the person he'd been back then, but that was exactly the point: he was a different person, now. One who wasn't afraid to recognize his mistakes and try his damnedest to make amends.

And even if that weren't the case? The excruciating awkwardness of Leo's slow approach, antsy hesitation, and forced nonchalance when he finally settled near Finn's side would've given him a change of heart real fuckin' fast.

"Did I not? I dunno, with how on edge you look, I thought you might bolt if I went and said it outright." Despite the teasing words, Finn's voice was soft, understanding. A final chuckle was much more reserved, shaking his head as he glanced sideways at the other boy. The firelight flickering over Finn's expression illuminated a dozen emotions in his eyes: the positives of them (warmth, compassion) meant for Leo, and the negatives (remorse, shame) directed towards himself.

Man, what could he even say to make any of the awful shit he'd pulled any better? Good thing Finn had never been the type to think things through; for something like this, it was better to just dive in and speak straight from the heart, anyway.

"Listen, Leo..." He exhaled long and slow—not quite a sigh, but a fortifying breath. "I get why you're so uncomfortable around me. Hell, I would be too, if I were in your shoes. I don't expect you to believe me, much less forgive me for anythin', but..."

He met the other boy's gaze head-on. When he finally said it after all these years, it was plain, simple, and earnest: "I'm real sorry, for how I treated you back when we first met. It ain't an excuse, but I was...well, I was in a shitty place back then: mad at the whole damn world, and takin' it out on anybody I came across." Those were some of his ugliest memories. Back then, he was so full of hatred and rage that he saw the world in shades of red, distorting every good thing—and good person—he found into something malicious and cruel. Finn's shoulders deflated, exasperated with his past-self.

"You didn't deserve any of that." A hand raked through his dreads before resting on the back of his neck. Still, he didn't look away. "If I could take it all back? I would, in a heartbeat. But since I don't have any time-travelin' powers, all I can do is say I'm sorry."

There was nothing expectant in Finn's gaze. Just openness, and a willingness to listen, learn, and grow that hadn't existed back when the two of them shared their first wild romp across the country. He shrugged as if to say 'I know you probably won't believe this, but here it goes anyway—' before he continued, "Honestly? I'm just real glad to see that you're still doin' alright after all the awful shit I put you through."