Page 48 of Filtration Play
Hera huffed out a breath. “No, no, it’s fine. I’m just tired of the chip Meg has on her shoulder about me.”
“If she had a serious problem with you, then you wouldn’t be allowed in the scene.” Fin could at least offer that truth, even though this whole conversation sat sour in their gut. “But I’ve got to head out. I’ll email you what sets I’ll be featuring on what walls.”
“I’ll be waiting for it.” Hera waved as she headed in the opposite direction, deeper into the warehouse. Fin set off for the door.
Their skin prickled with unease after Hera had thrown out the whole “using” thing. That wasn’t how they worked in the slightest, and they avoided situations like that at all costs. Even Ollie would get a cut of whatever was sold from the photos after the show. Though he didn’t know that yet. He’d jumped in…what, to spend time with them?
Fuck, they were in so far over their head when it came to Oliver Hale.
To the point they’d done the impossible and invited him to Play Night. Fin had never been great with words. Most of theirs came out loaded with salt and brine. They worked more strongly with actions, and even though they couldn’t admit out loud or maybe even to themself what this thing with Ollie meant, deep down, they were aware he was more.
That they’d shared more with him than anyone else.
They hopped onto their Ducati, and the engine rumbled to life beneath them. The streets of San Francisco whizzed by, bright splashes of color contrasting the asphalt. For so long, they’d been focused on the immediate. Get away from their dad, get established on their own. Dreams felt pointless.
But as one by one, the crew at Whipped fell in love and found partners who they could come home to at night, the desire had burrowed in stronger with each passing day.
And even though Ollie was younger than them by a decade, he’d seen enough shit that he wasn’t young and dumb.
Fin had been around long enough to understand connections like theirs didn’t come around often. They would know. They’d played with every flavor of sub, slept their way through half the scene of San Francisco, and not once had they considered opening up emotionally.
Yet Ollie had them breaking all their rules.
***
By the time Ollie arrived, Fin had finished setting up the camera and lighting equipment.
The shoot today was a simple one—blindfolded, gagged, and with a quick rope tie around the arms—but he’d be stripped to his boxer briefs.
“Ready for this?” They looked up.
The sight of Ollie knocked the air from their chest again. He was wearing a pair of sweats, which showed off his thick thighs, and his dark brown hair was windswept. With all that olive skin on display, he looked so damn delicious they wanted a taste. His eyes brimmed with nerves, which made their warning bells clang.
“You okay?” Fin asked. “If you’re uncomfortable, we don’t need to shoot.” Truthfully, they had all they needed photo-wise, but they weren’t ready to let go yet.
They weren’t quite sure when that moment would come.
Part of them hoped it didn’t.
He squeezed his nape. “I’m not nervous about the shoot. Just, damn. Last shoot and all. Maybe I’m not ready to give up my glamorous modeling life.” His eyes met Fin’s, and fuck, they couldn’t look away. The stare was magnetic, arresting, and they no longer needed to question what he brimmed with.
The same tension that had plagued them.
Their heart thumped so hard it deafened, and silence stretched between them with every unanswered question that bubbled to the surface. Except they were the one who’d set the initial parameters.
“Well, if you need something to fill the time, I’m in need of a sub,” they said. Their nerves rioted at anything hinting deeper than casual.
Ollie quirked his head to the side. “Oh? What does this position entail?”
“Mm, definitely another chastity stint.” Fin kneeled and fiddled with a piece of their camera setup, not because they needed to but because they couldn’t look at Ollie right now. Their mind was screaming. Trusting people never meant anything good. For fuck’s sake, their mom had texted again to set up a meetup that would be far too much of their former family too soon.
“I’m getting free of this one today, right?” Ollie asked. He didn’t pressure them for answers, and for that, they were more grateful than words could express. They both knew Fin could play with anyone they liked, and they’d found play partners for years with zero problems. But none of those subs had been theirs.
Fin glanced at him at last. A slight smile quirked his lips, and the hint of hope in his gorgeous brown eyes slayed them on the spot. They rose from their crouch and lifted a brow. “Depends. Cage check.”
Ollie let out a shaky breath. He tugged his pants and boxer briefs to his thighs, exposing his cock in the little black cage.
Fin swore. “Damn, that’s so hot. You’re such a good boy, you know that?”
