Getting dressed, Wes paused to slide an arm around Finn’s waist and tug his other half close; Finn leaned some weight against him. Wes offered, “Coffee? More candy cane hot chocolate? That salted caramel tea you bought? Want me to put up those garlands for the windows?”

“Yes, if you would.” Finn was still shirtless, though he’d pulled on a pair of loose soft pajama pants covered in gallivanting reindeer. He looked cheerful, though Wes noticed the faint lines at the corners of his eyes. Not the most painful, but also not the lightest kind of day, then. That was fine; they had routines for that. And nothing pressing to do, anyway.

It’d be a day of curling up together, grading some papers, reading some scripts, and watching some holiday classics. A massage, maybe. Not moving much, but some stretches, to keep stiffness at bay. Lots of comfort. With candy cane hot chocolate and salted caramel tea.

Finn took a step back to sit down on the bed, over snowflake-patterned blankets and sheets. Wes, heart skipping a beat or two, sat down with him.

“I’m fine.” Finn waved a hand. “I was just thinking ...”

“Should I be afraid?”

“Thanks. About yesterday ...”

“You,” Wes said. “Your career. Being visible. Janice.” He really might have to have a talk with Finn’s agent. He could do that. Department meetings were good practice as far as getting heard.

“All of that. And you and me, this morning, and how happy I am. I think I’ve figured it out, kind of.”

Wes gathered up both of Finn’s hands. Held them, fingers cradled in his. Tried to shout, yes, go on, tell me everything, with every atom of his being.

“Janice says I’m too wholesome,” Finn said. “I don’t think it’s that, exactly. It’s just that ...” He paused; the rain picked up, inviting more words, commiserating. “Everybody has an idea of who I am. Maybe they remember the kid from Finn & Cody’s Upside-Down Life, or maybe they’ve heard my voice in an animated movie about dragons, all heroes and kindness, y’know. Or maybe they feel sorry for me, if they look at me with the cane or needing to sit down between takes, and then it ends up being about pity. But none of that’s really ...”

“The person who makes anatomically correct gingerbread men and terrible puns about mint lube?”

“You adore me. So I was thinking ... no, not the whole sex tape thing, but ... maybe a little bit naughty? Or at least nice. Something that’d be about me, and us.”

Possibilities hung in the air. So many, in light of everything they’d done already this morning.

Exposure. Nakedness. Metaphorical and literal.

Wes took a deep breath. He could be brave about this. He trusted Finn. With all of himself, he did. “I do adore you. And the gingerbread, and the mint. What’d you have in mind?”