Page 66 of Filtration Play
“Better not offer,” Fin said. “You’ll be covered in bite marks daily, and I know you’re not a fan of pain.”
Ollie shook his head. “The level you did just now I’m fine with. Besides, I like the idea of having your marks all over me.”
“Show everyone you’re mine.” They shifted but remained pressed against him.
His throat tightened at their words. “Yeah, I’d like that a whole damn lot.” His voice came out in a low rasp, but Fin didn’t pull away from him, even with the emotion he hadn’t been able to hold back.
Every step forward with them was a major win, and slowly they were cementing themself into his life. To the point he wanted more. He wanted to bring them to family get-togethers, to wake up in bed with them every day. Maybe these desires were too much too fast, but he’d never felt this way about anyone else before.
His phone buzzed, and he checked it. “The pizza’s done. Let me go get it.” He needed to move, if only to keep from blurting out everything bubbling up inside him. “Stay put, okay?”
“I’m in my apartment, babe,” they drawled, some of their familiar swagger returning. “Where do you think I’m going to go?”
“Knowing you, climb out a window or some shit.” He extricated himself from them, hating the separation at once. “I’ll be right back.”
“Horror movie last words,” they called after him as he headed out of their apartment.
He barked out a laugh. The thud of the steps reverberated through his shins, the movement helping him process the thoughts whirling around his mind. One emotion emerged more than anything—gratitude. He was so damn grateful Fin had let him in. That they hadn’t pushed him away and bolted or shut down.
That sort of rejection would’ve devastated him.
He picked up the pizza from the front and then made an about-turn to carry it back the way he came. The heat from the box permeated through to his palms, reminding him of how many times he and Fin had chilled with pizza at their place. How this had somehow turned into their tradition.
Ollie stepped into the apartment, his nerves thrumming as if they had climbed out the window. But relief saturated him at the sight of Fin there on the couch, the TV blaring. They’d pulled out a blanket and wrapped it around themself, a serious look on their face that contradicted the ever-teasing, wicked light usually in their eyes.
He hated the change. He hated even more who had done that to them.
“Here, shove some food in your face.” He placed the pizza on the coffee table. Before Fin could hop up, he was striding to the kitchen. He snagged plates and napkins, then returned.
Fin put the wrapped bag of peas down, which had to have melted. The bruise was getting darker, but the skin around it wasn’t as puffy as when he’d arrived. Their gaze caught his. “Like my beauty mark? Maybe I can bedazzle it, show it off around town.”
His stomach roiled, even as he shook his head, keeping his cool. Fin’s black sense of humor had drawn him to them in the first place, and he was glad to see that even now, it hadn’t changed. “Bedazzling is gonna hurt like a bitch over a bruise. Better to own it and come up with some insane stories for how you got it. Like paragliding with a werewolf.”
Fin let out a loud laugh, their features crinkling. Immediately, they winced. “Owww. You’re such a dick, making me laugh.”
“I’m not even a little sorry.”
Fin shook their head, and their eyes softened. The look on their face was pure tenderness and something…more. Maybe it was hopefulness on his part, but he had to believe he wasn’t alone in these growing feelings. All the signs were there with Fin—the way they invited him over, asked for a regular D/s relationship, kissed him in public, and fuck, even brought him to Play Night.
They were brazen and loud about anything sexual, having no problem with exhibitionism or speaking bluntly. When it came to emotions, though? They’d been a locked vault from the start, one that had started to open.
Ollie cherished every damn moment as the gift they were.
“Okay,” Fin said through a mouthful of pizza. “Continue theFarscapemarathon, or can I introduce you toDoctor Who?”
Ollie rolled his eyes. “You assume I don’t have huge geeks in my family. How about I introduce you to a football game?”
“Excuse me. Who’s the one injured here? No need to compound that by adding football to the mix.” Fin joked, even though theywere a little more ragged, a little more raw. Ollie was relieved to see their humor intact. It was a load-bearing mechanism, and seeing them without it felt utterly wrong.
“Fine, we can throw onDoctor Who. Just not the ancient stuff.”
“Excuse you,” Fin said. “1960sDoctor Whowas quality.”
“Maybe if you’re old.”
“Gonna play the age game, cutie? I’ll throw on your newfangled newDoctor Who,then.” Fin finished off their slice.
Ollie had already polished off his, so he settled back, extending an arm again. This time, no bite was necessary for Fin to cuddle in, to lean against him. He wanted to offer his strength tonight. Fin was a partner who he could ride off on a random midnight adventure with but also settle in with pizza on the couch, and having both of those in one person was rare.
