21. Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-One
W hen Ollie hadn’t heard back from Fin, he decided to check in on them.
Ballsy move, since they preferred their privacy, but this gut feeling had stuck with him all day at work, even while he’d been deep in the guts of a Subaru, working on the transmission.
Once he finished his shift, he headed to Fin’s apartment.
They hadn’t responded to any of his messages, and he knew they were meeting their mom today, which would guaranteed stir up some shit.
What he hadn’t expected was to step into their apartment and find them like this.
A deepening purple bruise along their cheekbone, the rest of the skin puffy and red on that side of their face. Their hair was bedraggled and messy, and a haunted look resided in their hazel eyes.
He clutched them tight, trying to dispel the rage that built by the second.
Something had gone wrong, but he only had shots in the dark to guess what.
However, he understood Fin’s skittishness because it was so similar to his own.
He’d wait for the information to be volunteered.
Right now, he needed to remind himself they were here in his arms.
“Fuck,” he muttered, the words muffled by their hair.
Fin pulled back and attempted a half smile that fell off their face. Tears streaked down their cheeks, which floored him. Fin wasn’t the type to cry.
He shook his head, his heart ripped out of his chest. “You don’t have to pretend for me. Fuck, baby. Never me.” He was in so deep with them he never wanted to surface, and he was well aware of what letting him in had cost them.
Fin didn’t let people in, not like that.
Yet they made exception after exception for him.
“Did you ice that?” He pointed to their cheek.
“Nah.” They shook their head, then winced at the movement.
Ollie set off toward the freezer. He opened it and rummaged around, the brisk cool not helping to calm the hot rage bubbling inside him in the slightest. He found a bag of peas, which would have to work. “Do you have a towel? I’ve had to ice too many injuries over the years.”
“What from?” they asked, snagging a dish towel. He passed over the bag of peas, and they applied it to their face.
“Being on the football team. I’d like to pretend it was just sports-related, but I got in a lot of fights my senior year.
” He swallowed hard. The slurs the guys had thrown around had gotten under his skin effortlessly.
And for a while, he’d convinced himself he was sticking up for Jules, but deep down, those attacks had slammed in on a personal level.
He’d just been burying parts of himself in an attempt to fit in.
Something he’d done for years and years.
“Fuckers,” Fin spat out as they clutched the wrapped bag of peas to their face. The tears had slowed, the sobs had stopped, but a strange fragility hummed in the air, like they were one step away from shattering completely.
Ollie swallowed. He understood far too well.
He’d been riding that line for the past few months, the urge to cut pulsing beneath the surface, ebbing and flowing but growing to a dangerous point.
Sometimes he went long stints without it arising, where it remained a latent part of him and he could pretend he was healed, that he’d gotten over the urges.
But then it would return like the shift of a season, and the reminder would set in that this was a long-term struggle, something that couldn’t just be banished by a little therapy.
“Have you eaten today?” he asked.
Fin’s stomach rumbling answered for them.
He squeezed the back of his neck. “I can either order us pizza or see what I can assemble from what you have.”
“I’ve got a block of cheese, stalks of celery, and a bag of old rice,” Fin muttered. “I’m not the best with cooking. Most of the time I eat out.”
The fact that Fin wasn’t cracking a joke over what they’d said spelled out everything about where they were at. Seeing them so broken down and defeated slammed into him hard. He hated everything about this, and he cracked his knuckles. The urge to punch whoever had done this rose in a fierce way .
“I’ll order pizza from downstairs,” he said. “Don’t think cheese rice with celery is going to be a great meal.” He headed over to their couch and took a seat as he placed an order on his phone.
To his surprise, Fin settled right next to him. They didn’t lean into him, but their close proximity was a step forward, given their tendency to bolt.
“Pizza should be ready in a half hour,” he said.
The quiet simmered between them, the unknowns percolating in the air. He wasn’t sure whether to ask or turn on the TV and lean into the avoidance game, but he took all his cues from Fin.
Whatever had happened at the meeting with their mom hadn’t been good.
“She wasn’t the one who showed up,” Fin said, their voice barely above a wrecked whisper. They hunched forward, elbows dug into their thighs as they stared at the floor. “My father figured out we’d been meeting.”
The pieces clicked into place. Rage burned through him fast and fierce, but he bit back his comments, his anger. Fin was opening up, and he wouldn’t dash the opportunity just to sate his own emotions.
“Hadn’t seen him in over a decade, not since I left their house.” Fin clutched the frozen bag of peas to their cheek. “Asshole still has a mean right hook, though.”
The simple way they said it broke his heart.
Ollie’s mom might’ve died when he was a kid, but he’d had the kindest parents in existence.
His dad was gentle and sweet, and Julian was the caretaker he’d needed when he was younger.
Hearing what Fin had been through, how utterly alone and beaten down they’d been, fractured something inside him.
He’d been such a little shit as a teenager, keeping Jules and Dad at a distance every chance he could, but learning about everything Fin had been through, how they didn’t have those tethers available, shifted something for him.
He needed to let his family in.
“Fucker,” Ollie said, repeating their earlier statement.
The first small grin appeared on their face, and the sight struck him square in the chest. Three little words bubbled to the surface, desperate to escape.
Because the truth was, he’d fallen for Finley Williams the moment they crash landed into his life and whisked him away on their Ducati.
And bit by bit, those emotions had increased until they’d become all-consuming.
He was so deep in with them that he didn’t know how he’d surface if this ended.
“Did you talk to Meg?” he asked.
Fin shook their head. “She’ll flip out. I don’t need the drama right now. I just need the bruise to go down. Not like my fucking father didn’t get payback. He’s very aware I’m no longer a scared kid.”
“Good. I don’t know what I’d do if I saw that monster.” He cracked his knuckles, as if that would release the rage swilling through him.
Fin shrugged. “No need. He got the sucker punch because I froze, but we agreed he and Mom will never see me again.” They swallowed hard, their eyes darkening slightly.
“You can be mad all you want, but I’m going to hug you now,” he said.
“I’ll bite.”
“Please. That’s only going to encourage me.” He slung an arm around them and dragged them in close, and true to Fin’s statement, they brought his forearm up and sank their teeth in. The slight sting felt good, though. It connected them, and it also helped abate some of his anger .
They let go, and after they released the little bit of violence, a switch flipped. They melted into his side, slumping against him. Fin reached for the peas and placed the bag back on their cheek, which had to be throbbing.
“Anytime you want to use me as a chew toy, you’re welcome to.
” Even though he tried to keep the situation light, the depth of emotions stirring inside him had swelled to a hurricane force.
Having Fin in his arms, knowing they let him take care of them like they took care of him meant everything.
He’d never had that sort of give and take with a partner, let alone the intensity of what he felt for Fin.
The relationship they were building here either had the potential of the love he’d hoped for in secret, or it would be devastation he’d never recover from.
But all he knew was he couldn’t pull away.
“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 the Farscape marathon, or can I introduce you to Doctor 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 they were 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 on Doctor Who . Just not the ancient stuff.”
“Excuse you,” Fin said. “1960s Doctor Who was quality.”
“Maybe if you’re old.”
“Gonna play the age game, cutie? I’ll throw on your newfangled new Doctor 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.
“Can I crash here tonight?” he asked, bracing himself for the no. It wasn’t like they had plans. He’d dropped in on them and invaded their space.
“You fucking better,” they said with a confidence that fueled the hope.
“Thanks.” He settled in beside them as the show started. Fin’s breathing grew slower and more measured as they got comfortable against him, and their face softened as if they could let go of the mask they tried to hide behind on a constant basis.
One word and it meant so much more than Fin could’ve fathomed.
Tonight meant more than Ollie could put into words. That he could be the support for someone else, that he could be their steady instead of just a mess.
He was so in love with Finley Williams, and he didn’t want to ever let go.