AN: I had really wanted to have this up last night but then the Derek Chauvin verdict came in and I was distracted. I'm glad the jury came to the right conclusions, but holding one man accountable for his actions hardly means justice for all the BIPOC who have had to exist within a system that clearly does not fully value their lives. We must keep fighting against overt and systemic racism.

Anyway, moving on to the story. We've got lots more JackFinn goodness here, and I make no apologies for that. Although I do apologize for the continued lack of Rogan interaction. I kind of wrote myself into a corner with them. They're apart and it's really hard to just get them in the same place at the same time right now. But I think I've almost fixed it. Probably just one more more chapter until we get regular Rogan interaction again.

Also, this story takes place in 2009. Pansexual was a term that existed back then but no one really knew it, even within the boarder LGBTQIA community (Which was just LGBT back then). Pansexual didn't really reach the mainstream as a sexual identity that people were aware of until Miley Cyrus came out in 2015.

"Did you have to pick the gayest restaurant in all of midtown?" Jackson checked out his surroundings as they were settled into their seats at a cozy table for two by the southwest corner of the iconic restaurant. A magnificent crystal chandelier hung from the classic domed ceiling with smaller matching sconces all along the walls. In the center of the room, the circular dance floor rotated slowly and there was a large stage set for a big band. Jackson had never been to the Rainbow Room, despite working in the same building for over two years, but he was familiar with the reputation as one of classic, old Hollywood elegance. Still, he hadn't expected it to be so…overstated. It looked like they were eating inside a Judy Garland movie. Although Jackson had to admit, the view of the empire state building was incredible.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Finn shrugged with false innocence, his blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"There are mirrored walls," he pointed to the reflective glass behind the bandstand.

"You don't like it?" Finn threw his hands over his chest teasingly. "Barbra Streisand used to eat here."

"Yeah, exactly."

Finn laughed. "I didn't think you had a problem with gay things."

"I don't," Jackson replied. "But just because I'm gay and you're…" he trailed off. He still wasn't entirely sure where Finn landed on the whole Kinsey scale, even after Jackson had downed an entire bottle of wine and spent an entire evening sleuthing the internet for every bit of information he could find on the man. He knew it was pathetic, but that's what the alcohol was for. "Bisexual?" he asked hesitantly.

"Pan," Finn answered matter-of-factly.

Jackson narrowed his eyes in confusion. "As in frying?"

"As in sexual. I'm pansexual. If you have to put a label on it. Personally, I hate labels, but some people feel more comfortable putting things in boxes. Putting people in boxes." Finn paused, leaning forward, his arms resting on the table. "Do you like putting people in boxes, Jackson?"

Damn the man was sexy. Why did he have to be so damn sexy. And confusing. But mostly sexy. A sassy reply was playing at the edges of Jackson's tongue. Did he have the balls to say it? With anxiety swirling in his stomach, he sat back in his seat, mustering up his best approximation of blithe confidence. "Only when they've been bad."

Finn immediately let out a deep chortle, his weight shifting back into his seat. "I like you," he admitted, pointing his index finger at Jackson.

Jackson felt the heat crawling up his cheeks at the compliment. "Thank you?" It came out as a question. Clearly any hope of coming off as cool and collected was shot to hell.

Finn smirked; the right side of his mouth just a tich higher than the left, a slight dimple appearing, and his right eye narrowing a smidge. "You are very welcome," he replied, his voice low and husky as he once again leaned forward, only this time, he didn't rest his hands on the table. Jackson could feel the burn of Finn's fingers through the fabric of his Dockers as they landed on his leg, just above his knee, squeezing. His whole body tingled at the touch.

What was this man doing to him? Jackson had been literally handed the story of a lifetime. A story that could make a difference; that could help dozens of women; that could see to it that justice was done. A story that could have massive societal effects, even. And it could be career altering for him. Hell, if it panned out, this thing had the potential to be Pulitzer worthy…and he was barely twenty-eight.

And Finn was a contact. And a distraction. Getting involved in…whatever this was, was a very bad idea.

Jackson shifted in his seat, Finn's hand falling away. He grabbed for the glass of ice water in front of him, chugging it desperately.

Finn relaxed back into his chair, his arms coming to cross over his chest. He looked at Jackson with an appraising gaze. "Does my sexuality bother you?" he asked.

"What?" Jackson looked up at his dining companion. He'd almost forgotten where this conversation had started. "Oh," he shook his head. "No." That was the least of his issues with whatever was going on between them. "Although I have to admit, I'm still a little confused on what it is." Jackson had been out of the closet long enough, and was involved in the queer community, but he had to admit, 'pansexual' was a term he was not acquainted with.

"I'm pansexual," Finn repeated. "And panromantic. It means I'm sexually and romantically attracted to people regardless of gender."

Jackson looked at him in confusion. "So you are bisexual?"

"No," Finn shook his head. "Bisexual implies there is a gender binary; one is either male or female. Cis male or cis female, more specifically. But gender is complex, and the term bisexual doesn't account for that."

"Or," Jackson countered, "Bisexuality accounts for the fact that trans men are just as male as cis men and trans women are just as much female as cis women. Coming up with a new term to indicate your attraction to both cis and trans people implies that they are somehow different."

Finn nodded, his lips pressed together thoughtfully. "That's a valid point. But I'd argue it's still exclusionary to our gender queer and gender non-conforming comrades. Gender isn't binary, it's fluid. And sexuality is a spectrum. For example, last fall I was mostly finding myself attracted to women. And right now I'm finding myself mostly attracted to," he gave a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders, "well…" he held his hand out in Jackson's direction, "you."

Jackson felt his body go tingly again but he tried to ignore it. They couldn't be getting into this. Whatever it was. It was a recipe for disaster. "Well, that's very flattering, but we're here to talk about work."

Finn looked at him with a skeptical raise of his brow. "You practically stormed off when I suggested I was only here for 'work,'" he finger quoted the last word.

Okay, so he wasn't wrong about that, but did he have to throw it back in his face that way? The man was infuriating. And somehow that only seemed to make Jackson want him more; it had been a long time since Jackson had met a man who could challenge him this way. "You know what I mean," he said.

Finn screwed up his face, his shoulders raising into a shrug. "Not really. You're a hard man to read, Jackson Andrews."

Jackson sighed. "Listen, I'm not going to lie and say that I'm not attracted to you because, let's face it, you're gorgeous and you clearly know that..."

Finn's shoulders straightened up, his chest puffing out. "True, but always nice to hear." He winked flirtatiously.

Dear lord, the man was cocky. Then again if Jackson had his looks and his bank account, he'd probably be pretty cocky too. "Anyway, the point is, work is my top priority right now. And yeah, I let my emotions get the best of me outside. But this is too important to screw up by us getting involved."

"So work and fun are mutually exclusive?" Finn challenged.

"They are when the fun happens with a contact on what could be one of the biggest stories of my career."

"I see," Finn bobbed his head. "So you just want to keep it professional for now?"

"I think that's for the best."

"Fair enough," Finn digressed. "Professional it is. Although…" he trailed off as though just realizing something.

"What?" Jackson asked suspiciously.

"Well, it's just…we still need to make it look like we have a reason to be spending so much time together."

Damn. "I supposed so," he agreed with reluctance, his stomach dropping.

"So then, for…professional reasons, I might need to…" Finn cleared his throat, taking the napkin off his lap and placing it on the table. He scooted his chair right up next to Jackson's. "Get a little closer." Jackson could feel the heat radiating off of his body, warming him inside and out. He swallowed nervously. Finn leaned in closer. "Maybe whisper sweet nothings in your ear?" his breath tickled against his lobe, sending blood rushing south, far away from the rational decision-making organ.

"You make some excellent points," Jackson breathed out airily.

"And to really sell it," Finn continued, "We probably need to give the masses at least a little bit of PDA." Finn's hand was back on his leg now, the palm stroking in, caressing lightly as it moved upward. Jackson inhaled sharply, squeezing his eyelids closed as the sensation jolted through his body, making him throb.

Fuck it. He released his lids, letting them flutter open. Then, turning his head to take in the sight of the gorgeous man next to him, his eyes heady with lust, Jackson crashed his lips into his.

Hugo Grey stared at the pages in front of him. They had arrived earlier via courier in a large, official looking envelope.

Tortuous interference of contract. That's what Mitchum Huntzberger and his legal team at Huntzberger Publishing Group were claiming; that Skribe Media knowingly and willfully incited Logan to breach legal contract with HPG by hiring him.

Hugo knew this lawsuit was a long shot. He'd done his due diligence by having legal review the contract prior to actually hiring Logan. Besides, what judge in their right mind would buy that Logan had walked away from a highbrow executive job that paid him tens of millions of dollars a year, just to work as a lowly staff writer at a start-up earning fractions of a penny on the dollar of what he'd been earning previously.

Still, it was a problem. While Mitchum might stand no chance of winning in court, he could bury Hugo in legal fees during the process.

Strange thing was, Hugo had a crazy feeling this wasn't strictly about Logan. Afterall, Logan had been there for almost two months already. And then there was the unsolicited reference call he'd received a couple days ago suggesting he might want to pass on hiring Rory Gilmore.

Hugo wasn't stupid. He knew whatever rift had occurred between Logan and his father was more than meets the eye. And he knew Rory was somehow mixed up in all of it too. Still, Rory was a talented writer, he trusted Logan's judgement, and Skribe was growing fast enough that they needed the help. Plus, if he was being honest, he had never been a fan of Mitchum's and he rather enjoyed the idea of screwing the man over.

Unfortunately, Mitchum was a hard man to screw.

A soft rap came at the door and Hugo looked up. "You wanted to see me boss?"

"Yeah, come in. Close the door behind you." Logan did as was asked of him, taking a seat across the desk from Hugo.

"What's up?" Hugo slid the pile of papers across the desk. Logan picked them up, his eyes scanning over the document.

"Oh." He looked up from the pages in his hand, his eyes meeting Hugo's with a healthy dose of contrition.

"Yeah, 'oh,'" Hugo replied. "Any idea why I'm getting these now?"

Logan shrugged his shoulders. "Because Mitchum Huntzberger is an asshole?"

"Can't argue with that," he agreed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his ankle over his knee. "But that still doesn't answer the 'now' part of the question."

"I don't know what you mean."

Logan had a good poker face, but Hugo had played poker with him many times before and he knew his tells. "You just tapped your right ring finger on the desk."

"So?"

Hugo sighed, rubbing his face wearily. "I took a big chance hiring you, Logan. I knew something like this was a possibility…a probability even. But I did it anyway, because you're good, and because I trust you and your judgement. So, I'm asking you now, as your friend, not your boss: based on your best judgement, what makes this go away? Firing you, or not hiring Rory?"

Logan's eyes shot up to meet his, his face full of concern. "Don't take this out on her."

"Take what out on her?" Hugo implored. "What did I get myself into the middle of here?"

"I never wanted you to be in the middle of anything."

"And yet," Hugo shrugged his shoulders, "here I am. So, I'm going to need you to tell me what's going on."

Logan took a deep breath in, holding it for a moment before reluctantly letting it go. "I didn't bring this to you for a reason," he explained. "I knew you didn't have the resources to deal with something this big yet."

Hugo just stared at him, silently telling him to go on. "I'm working on something. I mean, not me personally…but I've brought information on my father and the company to another reporter."

"What kind of information?"

Logan reached up to nervously scratch at his neck. "Information regarding…domestic abuse. And other issues of sexual predation throughout the company."

Hugo pressed his eyes shut, his teeth grinding together. This was bad; the actual issue of sexual misconduct, of course, but also what it could mean…for him, for Logan, for anyone involved. If what Logan said was true, Mitchum was going to spare no attempts to squash this. Honestly, Hugo was glad Logan had taken the story elsewhere. Ethically, he didn't know how he'd be able to sit on such a story. But practically, he didn't know how he'd be able to run with it…Mitchum would destroy him and Skribe in the blink of an eye.

"So, Rory was…" Hugo could put two and two together well enough to figure out why Mitchum might have a vendetta against her under the circumstances. He was sure the complexities of the situation went well beyond the surface, but he knew enough to know what he was getting into here, and enough to know he was better off not knowing more.

"His latest victim," Logan completed Hugo's unfinished sentence.

"Okay," Hugo leaned forward, scrubbing his face wearily. "Fine. I'll try to call his bluff. This lawsuit is BS, and we all know it. But if he pushes things…I can't sacrifice the company for this."

"I understand," Logan nodded. "Although…" Logan made a guilty face, his teeth gritted together, his nose scrunched up as though he was smelling something sour.

"What?" Hugo growled.

"It's just…I might be prepared for Mitchum's wrath to start escalating."

Hugo stared frustratedly at his friend. "What did you do?"

"Nothing…yet," Logan assured him. "It's what I'm going to do."

"And what would that be?"

Logan shrugged. "I'm going to draw attention to myself…make him think I'm writing the story."

"Fucking-ay, Logan," Hugo groaned. "Please say you're kidding me." Hopefully Mitchum would realize his son was too smart for that. But still, if he knew he was snooping around, Mitchum would try to stop him. And he'd obviously make the assumption that Hugo would be the one publishing it, which meant Mitchum would try to stop him too. This was bad, this was very bad.

"I'll try to lay the groundwork that I'm taking it to a different publisher," Logan assured him, apparently reading his mind. Not that it was hard to do. "But if it comes down to it, you let me go. I can take care of myself."

Hugo pressed the heels of his hands firmly into his eyeballs, trying to stop the stress induced pounding in his head. "Out," he said with a sigh, pulling his left hand away from his face and pointing out the door. "Just get out."

"Out like…?" Logan asked hesitantly, as he pushed his way to standing.

"Out of this room," Hugo clarified. "Out of my site. Go do some damn work and give me a reason not to fire you right this second."

Logan paused for a moment, his mouth opening like he was going to say something else, but he must have thought better of it, because he pulled his jaw closed, turned, and left the office.

The charcoal grey bedsheets were smooth and cool against his warm, sweat-soaked skin. The pillow was firm but fluffy, as though his head was being cradled by a marshmallow. Jackson stared up at the wrought iron, geometric light fixture which cast a warm glow over the bedroom. He was awash in the sensations, in the luxury, in the heat of the man lying next to him.

He knew it was wrong, he knew he should have been stronger, but as he snuck a peak at the tall, sinewy body laying naked next to him in bed, he couldn't seem to muster up the energy to care. The past hour came back to him in flashes; the feel of Finn's lips against his neck as they stumbled through the darkened apartment making their way to the bedroom and literally tumbling into bed; the mess of limbs tangled up in one another; the scrape of fingers raking down his back. If there was a heaven, this was it.

But heaven was fading fast as reality came pushing back in. Hot, unexpected sex was all good and well until it was done and you had no idea if you should stay or go. The urge to run was creeping up fast and just as he was about to make up an excuse, Jackson felt the mattress shift as Finn turned over onto his side, placing an open mouth kiss on his shoulder and throwing an arm over his waist as he snuggled into his side. Apparently, Finn was a snuggler.

"That was nice," the Australian murmured.

"Nice?" Jackson asked.

"Mmm. You don't agree?"

Jackson swallowed uneasily as Finn nuzzled his head into the crook of Jackson's arm. Nice? What did that even mean? Nice was what you called your neighbor's dog's new trick, not what you said about earth shattering sex.

"Umm, yeah, it was…nice."

Finn chuckled, his breath tickling the skin of his arm pit causing Jackson to squirm. "God, you're cute," Finn mumbled, placing another sloppy kiss on him. The arm that was around his waist drew back slightly so that his hand rested along his stomach, palm open, rubbing gentle circles. Finn propped his head up slightly to look down at him. "Relax," he told him. "I'm not gonna bite…I already did that."

Jackson recalled. He was pretty sure that was going to leave a mark on his ass.

"Ahh, there we go," Finn grinned, "he smiles." Jackson rolled his eyes but his smile widened, he couldn't help himself.

"I'm sorry," he told Finn. "I'm just…"

"Worried?" Finn finished for him.

Jackson exhaled audibly. "Yeah, I guess."

"You worry too much," Finn surmised as he flopped back down into the mattress. He rolled over onto his back again, Jackson's arm still beneath him like a pillow. "You should stop that, it'll give you wrinkles."

"Easy to say when you're…you."

"And what do you know about being me?" Finn asked.

"Umm, hot, smart, rich…doesn't leave much to worry about."

He could feel the quirk of Finn's shoulder. "All very valid points," Finn agreed. He reached his right hand up to intertwine his fingers with Jackson's. "But you've got two out of three…not too shabby."

Jackson shook his head and chuckled but pressed on. "It's just…this could really mess things up for the story," Jackson said. "We should probably keep it quiet for now."

"So what you're saying is that you want to keep me your dirty little secret?" Jackson shifted, turning onto his side to take in the impish smile on Finn's face. He felt his stomach flutter slightly.

"As dirty as you want."

"Mmm," he agreed. "I kind of like the sound of that. And it's probably for the best anyway," Finn admitted. "I kind of promised Logan I wouldn't bed you."

"Excuse me?!" Jackson's eyes went wide. "You talked to Logan about whether or not you were going to sleep with me?"

Finn shrugged unapologetically. "He was worried I was going to fuck up the article if I fucked you."

"Oh god," Jackson groaned, feeling his face go red.

"You're worried about the same thing," Finn reminded him. He was allowed to be worried. It was his sex life. What Jackson did with his free time was none of Logan's damn concern. Besides, Jackson got the impression Logan's own messed up personal life wasn't exactly free of entanglements that could screw up this story.

"Logan can go worry about his own sex life."

"What sex life?" Finn scoffed. "I'm fairly certain all the poor boy does these days is sit around and pine over Ro…." His voice trailed off, his face scrunching up in guilt. "Oops."

"What was that?" Jackson's chest fluttered, a different kind of flutter then the one he'd been experiencing all night but exhilarating all the same. Excitement and anxiety at the thought of a breakthrough; at the knowledge that his instincts had been right. There was something going on between Logan and his father's ex-girlfriend. He pushed himself up on his forearm so he was looking down at Finn.

"Nothing," he chirped.

"Finn," Jackson scolded. It was too late to back pedal now.

"It's nothing, really. He's been pining over some chick named…Rolanda. Yeah."

Jackson rolled his eyes at the incredibly bad lie. "She's why he left, isn't she?"

"Rolanda? I'm not sure what she'd have to do with…" Finn trailed off, obviously able to tell Jackson wasn't buying it. "I really can't talk to you about this. Let's have sex again." he started to push himself up off the bed.

"Finn," Jackson sighed, rubbing at his face wearily. Finn sunk back down into the sheets with a sigh of his own. "This is important," Jackson informed him. "He thinks he's protecting her by keeping whatever's going on between them quiet, but he's not. I don't want to hurt your friends. I'm on their side."

He watched the rise and fall of Finn's chest as an internal debate, no doubt, waged within him. Jackson ached to reach out and touch the smooth, golden skin. He wondered how he kept up such a perfect tan in the middle of winter. He probably went to a tanning bed, or got a spray tan…probably at the same place that waxed the hair off of every inch of his torso.

"See, this is why he didn't want me sleeping with you." There was another moment of silence before he spoke again. "There's nothing going on between them" Jackson was about to protest again but Finn continued on to clarify, "No, I mean, nothing has actually happened. I don't think. It's all longing glances and existential angst."

"Good," Jackson let out a relieved exhale, relaxing back into the bed. "Because if they had been having an affair it would definitely screw their credibility to hell."

Finn shook his head. "He didn't even know. I mean, he knew she was seeing someone. He knew it wasn't a healthy relationship. Logan has a bit of a savior complex. He wanted to be the hero; save her from it. But then he walked in on the two of them together. So yeah, she's why he left."

"Seems like he's still trying to save her."

"Gilmore's strong, she can save herself."

Jackson nodded. "Maybe, but even if she can, I think we all want someone else to come along and do the saving for us sometimes."

"Oh yeah?" Finn asked, his eyebrow arching up.

"Yeah."

"And how about you? Do you want someone to save you?"

"Oh, I could definitely use a big, strapping man to come save me."

Finn grinned impishly. "Well then, let the saving commence."

AN 2: So there you have it. Mitchum is still an asshole trying to interfere in Rory and Logan's lives in any way possible. Hugo is getting caught up in the middle which could mean trouble for Rory's job prospects and Logan's job security. And Finn is a blabber mouth.

Like I said, I know you folx want more Rogan goodness, but even though you didn't get it this chapter, I would still love to hear your reviews. Fun fact...last chapter had 932 views and only 13 reviews. That means that even if every single one of you viewed it twice, only 3% of you reviewed.