It was only once they were out on the rooftop that Finn realized it had been stuffy in the party. A slight wind picked up, mussing his hair, and he halfheartedly stroked it back in place, looking at the scattered stars in the sky to the scattered city lights like reflections of the stars turned surreal. Coloured more bright with distances distorted. To Josiah, who found it beautiful. Who was beautiful himself.

"Yeah," smiled Finn softly, glad that jagged Josiah wasn't apparent anymore. He gazed at him, standing aloft, and though his heart jolted a bit when he saw how close Josiah was to the edge, though he gazed at his back and at the jut of his shoulder blades now seen and unseen as the wend swelled and subsided in his shirt, though he gazed at his back and imagined it shirtless with shoulder blades like wings ready to sprout any moment, for a moment he was seeing his beauty without coveting. Josiah the anchor reeled him in and set his senses reeling. Jagged Josiah he could get cut on. Winged Josiah he could love… maybe enough to let go…
He wanted to hold his hand, because what if he stumbled on the shingles?
What if he decided in a split second to step off?

What if he flew… with Finn only able to watch from the ground?

Finn stood close behind him instead. Ready for a reflex if a quick one was needed. Wondering if he could really keep from wanting him.