Page 88 of Filtration Play
Ollie cleaned up just as well as he grimed up, and he looked exceptionally good tonight. His dark hair was teased with product, and he wore a red button-down with black slacks, both form-fitting in a way that showcased his huge shoulders and thighs. Ngh. Maybe the distracting part hadn’t been a total lie.
“Hey,” he said, his hand behind his back. “I know you’re not the flowers type, so I brought this.” With that, he unveiled a small, brassy carburetor in his palm.
Fuck, they were going to marry this man.
Fin didn’t hesitate. They wrapped their hand around his nape and dragged him in for a kiss. They poured all their nerves, all their vulnerabilities, all their emotions that overflowed tonight into that kiss, sinking into the sweetness of his mouth, the scent of diesel oil that clung to him after he finished a shift.
“God, I love you.” They plucked up the carburetor. “This is way fucking better than some wilted petals.”
“Can I see the exhibit early, or are you going to make me wait longer?” he asked, his deep-set eyes twinkling.
“Come on.” Fin ushered him in, then closed and locked the door behind them.
“Look who showed up,” Micah teased.
“Oh, shush,” Pixie said. “He was just being a good boy, unlike you, Bratty Spice.”
Fin shook their head, unable to help their smile as they headed down the steps to the dungeon. The path was well worn, one that had led to their refuge time after time. This entire place had seeped into their veins and was imprint in their mind of what a home was supposed to feel like. They hadn’t experienced anything else like it before, but the first time they’d met Ollie and encountered the same reaction, that had been the first sign he belonged to them.
They stepped into the dungeon, which had been transformed for the show. Photos decorated the walls, and on the tables the crew had dragged out, more of their work was displayed.
“Come on,” Fin said, their tone a little gruffer as they walked hand in hand with Ollie. Their throat tightened, and the emotion washing over them grew so big it threatened to spill out. Because their work conveyed everything that these walls had stood witness to. More than just orgies at Play Nights or extreme kink.
No, this place was where they’d come to blow off steam with Mario Kart during shitty holidays when the family bullshit was hitting hard. It was where they’d all gathered to support each other during their worst moments. It had witnessed their tears and cries and moans and love.
It had witnessed so much love.
Fin led Ollie over to the final exhibit on the far wall, their palms sweating, their heart thumping harder.
“And this one might be a smidge familiar.” They stopped before the section that featured the pictures of him.
Of the initial session in the abandoned lock factory. Of the ones down here in the dungeon.
But they’d included more—pictures of the beach they’d escaped to. Of the Ducati they continued to go on tandem rides with. Of tangled sheets after they’d fucked.
All the photos told the story of how Fin had fallen in love.
Ollie’s hand tightened on theirs. “Fin…I…”
“If you say you hate it, I’m going to commit arson.”
“No need for arson.” Ollie glanced at them, his eyes filled with a warmth that traveled to their bones, and they surrendered to it. “I’m…just…fuck. No one’s ever seen me the way you do.”
Fin’s throat tightened. Fuck, they needed to not bawl through this entire night. They leaned in and pressed a kiss to Ollie’s lips. “I love you. So damn much.”
“I love you too,” he said, his voice hoarse.
“I’ve got one I didn’t display.” They walked over to one of the drawers, tugged a picture out, and handed it over. It was simple—just one Fin had snapped with their good camera while they were lying in bed with Ollie. No finesse, no fancy lighting. Just the relaxed joy in both of their expressions. Fin had never witnessed it on themself before, and when they’d seen the picture, they’d been mesmerized.
This was what Ollie did to them.
“This is my favorite,” Ollie said, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “The best of the bunch.”
Fin had believed they were too broken to love. Relationships reminded them of their parents’ toxic one, and they wanted no part of that.
However, Ollie had taught them differently.
He’d been guarded, jaded, and far too similar, and yet somehow their jagged edges had aligned in the perfect way. And now that he belonged to Fin, they were never letting him go.
