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Grave Matters: A Repo! Roleplay (SevenxKawamura)

There wasn't any sort of response that Nathan could muster right then because Graverobber dug into him, deeper this time and the sensation of the slick tongue pushing into his body was disturbing, and the doctor's muscles contracted at the intrusion - this wasn't something he had ever experienced, and he was unclear on how he should take it. The feeling was varying between a mild sort of discomfort and small, ticklish sensations that made him squirm beneath the other man.

This wasn't proper, he had decided, and if he could form the words, he would be sure to tell Graverobber as soon as he possibly could. Just, it was becoming increasingly difficult to concentrate because, as much as he was ashamed to acknowledge it, a particularly uncomfortable erection had formed and was currently trapped between his own body and the mattress.
 
Graverobber swiped his tongue across that puckered ring of muscle one more time before pulling his head away. Nathan had gone awfully quiet the last few minutes, and he had to check and make sure the poor doctor was okay. Slick fingers pressed forward, testing the erection that had sprung up sometime during their improper and undignified activities. He smirked as he traced the heavy sac, letting a low rumble of laughter escape him.

â??Very nice, Doc,â? he complimented, drawing that finger back up carefully. â??Think you can be a good boy and relax these muscles?â? The dealer pressed a glistening finger against his anus, trying his damnedest to neither laugh nor give into the urge to pull out something more substantial. He had to be patient, to be content with the lazy circles he was tracing out around the fatherâ??s very prim and proper entrance.

He grinned wickedly. â??Trust me?â? Graverobber asked hoarsely.
 
Nathan drew in a shuddering breath when he felt Graverobber's fingers glide along his length - somewhere along the line, the scavenger had put something slick on his hands, had he brought lube with him? Somehow it was even more embarrassing now that he knew Graverobber had already had this in mind - of course, he should have known that his reluctance earlier that morning wouldn't have put the scavenger off anything he intended to do.

He could barely trust himself to speak and so had decided that remaining as quiet as possible would be the best option - though Graverobber's question about whether he would be a 'good boy' was cause for a small amount of frustration on the doctor's part, generally not one to be spoken to in diminunative terms, and particularly because Graverobber was younger than him by at least ten years -

- oh god. Not a good thing to be thinking about right then.

Then came the next question.

"About as far as I can throw you." he replied, equally hoarse.
 
Later, should Nathan ask if he was carrying lube just for this purpose, Graverobber would laugh and tell him that he couldn't be running home or to the store every time some whore wanted to pay in manual labor. But that wasn't at all what he was thinking of.

What he was thinking of was the way the middle-aged man's muscles rippled, how the poor man tensed. Did Nathan think that he would still hit him? That, after getting this far, he'd pull out something nasty and stab him in the back? Probably was the most common response to the night surgeon showing a weakness, and Graverobber hated to do what everyone else did.

"Good," he whispered lowly, leaning over that warm, strong body to kiss the back of the doctor's neck as he slipped a well lubricated finger in past that initial resistance.
 
After so many years of isolation and only having contact with those who were using him, Nathan had developed a reasonable distrust for people - and beyond that, he was all too familiar with the darker side of human nature, and how quickly a person could turn from a respectable, law-abiding citizen into something of a monster. Trust was an issue for the doctor, and it always would be -

- and yet something about the way Graverobber leaned against him, the lips at the back of his neck, caused him to relax even if only for a terribly brief moment.

Because directly after, he felt a finger push inside of him; it was slicked with the same lubricant but the sensation was so alien that it left Nathan unsure of what he was feeling, whether it was pain or a bizarre kind of pleasure, because a sharp noise escaped him at the new pressure, and his fingers clenched into fists around the belt that was holding his hands to the headboard. His back and thigh muscles twitched visibly as his body tried to adjust to the new sensation, muscles tightening again.
 
Graverobber kept mouthing at the back of Nathan's neck, trying to calm him down. He could feel, even through his own thin, worn shirt, the way his pulse sped up, and the noise that he'd let out was too raw to be pleasure. "It's okay," the dealer whispered soothingly, pressing his lips to the bump of his spine. The dealer knew no other way of doing it, though generally, he wasn't dealing with virgins. And even if the doctor had done this before with his perfect wife, her fingers would have been tiny, unlike the Graverobber's masculine, long digits. "It won't hurt much longer, Nathan."

God, but he was tight, even ignoring the flexing of muscle against pain. Graverobber gave him another moment to adjust before curling his finger up, searching for the gland that would make this worthwhile.
 
Pain - pain was something Nathan could deal with. In his career as a Repo Man, he had learned to deal with the injuries that came with the job; he didn't always get away unscathed, though he had been relatively lucky in comparison to some of the others - at worse, he had come away from a job with a desperate need for stitches. Other agents that he knew of had lost body parts to the job; eyes, limbs, some had lost their lives because their patients were just a little too strong, or just a little faster than they had been. Nathan had the benefit of being unnaturally fit for a man his age, and it was accompanied by the determination to stay alive for the sole fact he had a daughter waiting for him back home.

Pain, he could deal with.

But this was something else entirely, because it was accompanied by vulnerability, and a warm body, and a voice in his ear and a mouth on his skin - it was a mix of sensations, and it was only made more difficult to sort through when Graverobber pushed his finger in just a little more. For a moment, there was only the raw sort of ache inside of him, but when the scavenger moved the digit, it brushed against something inside of him that made the doctor suddenly buck beneath Graverobber, a sharp, surprised sound escaping him.
 
For once, he didn't actually want to hurt the man. This wasn't the sort that could cross with the pleasure parts of the brain, least, not in any man Graverobber had ever come across. He was glad he wasn't the sort that kept nails long enough to tear though now he wished he had started with something smaller. Or more alcohol.

But then the body beneath him was bucking and, for a second, Graverobber feared that he'd nicked something, that he had caused enough pain to jerk the monster out of his cage and that'd be bad for both him and the doctor. The sound, however, that Nathan had made wasn't pain: it was surprise, and pleasure at that.

The dealer chuckled breathily against Nathan's ear, leaning down on his forearm so he was closer. It was a miserably intimate position, but he couldn't be assed to care, not when he was that much closer to unwinding his anally proper gentleman. "And that, Doc," he said cheerfully. "Is your prostate." He curled his finger again, putting more pressure on the knot of tissue. Awkwardly, the younger man pulled himself up just a little more so he could press his mouth against the scarred temple. It was a motion just as sweetly vulnerable as the weak trust Nathan had put in him, as the earlier kisses against the bump of his hip.
 
The first brief brush of the man's finger had been like a shock running through Nathan's nervous system and he forced his eyes open again, trying to see Graverobber as he leaned in close, but again finding it impossible - but he could feel the man's breath on his neck and jaw; his breath smelled like brandy, and it tickled against the shell of his ear.

He felt the kiss against his temple, and it was strangely sweet, and Nathan wanted to say something, but that damned finger twitched inside of him again and it caused the doctor to spasm violently beneath Graverobber, a low groan escaping him; again, he wrenched reflexively on the belt holding him there, and hissed out a soft curse.
 
There was another low sound in Nathan's ear, somewhere between a laugh and a groan. Graverobber glanced up to the other man's hands, watching them flex and curl around the flexible leather of his belt. The doctor still had his dark shirt on, punched up around his shoulders now, but the sleeves were still in their proper places, cuffs buttoned and all while Nathan cursed and squirmed beneath him.

And Graverobber couldn't help but tease. "Something you want?" he asked, eyes glued to the way rough, clever hands spasmed, clenching in ways that had only really been violent before. "You know," the dealer added conspiratorially, deep voice warm with something that wasn't quite tenderness; Nathan's struggles, his hisses went down his spine and settled right in his groin, threatening him with another erection even though his body had yet to recover from the last. "I know men who can come from just this. Want to see if you're one, Doc?"
 
If Nathan had the capacity to pay attention right then, he would have realized that, lurking somewhere inside his own mind, Repo was livid - the predator was unfamiliar with this sort of position, it set his teeth on edge in a way that nothing else did and he wanted nothing more than to make Graverobber suffer for it. However, the monster also had to begrudgingly acknowledge that his more pleasant half didn't seem to be against what was happening - even if there were some reservations, they were quickly vanishing because, frankly, Nathan couldn't process coherent thoughts enough to protest.

But the bastard was laughing at him.

Nathan's fingers sought something to hold onto, rather than clenching into themselves, and he hooked the digits into the belt, gripping it hard in an attempt to ground himself. He tried to steady his breathing, which he was just realizing had gone ragged, and he shuddered at the voice in his ear - he quietly hoped Graverobber wasn't expecting an answer, because the thought of giving one seemed embarrassing, particularly since he wasn't sure he wanted the man to stop.
 
Nathan, Graverobber had to admit, was much more pliable than his inner monster once you got past the feet of self-control and polite stuborness that shielded his insides like lead. Yes, Repo had been the one he'd initially interacted with and, yes, the night surgeon had been the first to not want to kill him, but that seemed like the two were quickly switching positions on Graverobber's mortality. The thief continued to press tender kisses to the tensing muscles in Nathan's neck, almost nuzzling the line of his jaw, because he liked to keep things fair, to pay his debts before they became bigger than he could handle. The older man was giving him something here, something that he couldn't quite name, and he returned that gift (or curse) with honest-to-God kindness. Not that he was entirely sure what that was supposed to be, but he tried his hardest and Nathan seemed to appreciate the effort.

He appreciated other things, too, if that shiver meant anything.

It made him feel good in the same way doping up that pretty little thing from before had, because she'd been good to him and didn't need to head across the river in pain. If he wasn't careful, he'd end up a God-damned bleeding heart, bringing candy and Z to people who needed it, not those who could pay, and taking care of an aging Repo Man.

His finger had started moving, rocking in Nathan's body gently just so the man could get used to the feeling and just to shake the idea that he was going soft, the grave robber pulled the digit out almost completely. If the man had the sense to try and control his breathing, he could speak. "Nathan," he cooed. "That wasn't rhetorical."
 
The press of the finger inside of him was sending tremors through Nathan's body, shudders that he couldn't control; every time Graverobber's fingertip stroked over that bundle of nerves, he found himself biting down on noises he was certain would come out sounding pathetic - even then, secured to the bed and completely lacking control over the situation, he was stubborn enough to stop himself from being undignified.

Though, he supposed, this was fairly undignified already; he was face down with his shirt opened and pushed up his back, naked from the waist down, with an attention-grubbing, rainbow-haired tramp doing things to him that he'd never even considered before.

And worst of all, it felt incredibly good.

Graverobber had begun a steady motion then, sliding his finger against the Doctor's prostate on every stroke inwards, but then there was the teasing request for an answer, and Nathan clamped his jaw shut to stop himself from replying. He pressed his forehead to the pillow, trying to focus on anything but the maddening heat that was rolling through his body, but found it was increasingly impossible to ignore. This was almost torturous, moreso when Graverobber stopped altogether, causing another violent shudder through the doctor's body.

"Ngh." Nathan articulated into the pillow.
 
Graverobber nipped at the man's neck, right beneath the line of his greying hair and behind his ear (the doctor's ear lobes were much longer than anyone else's he'd had the pleasure of biting before since very few of his customers lasted all that long). The long, wiry muscle tensed painfully as Nathan's jaw clenched shut. He sighed, pressing his forehead to the curve right below the good doctor's skull, almost as if disappointed.

He was anything but: it'd be boring if the older man gave in easily.

"'Ngh' is not a proper answer, Nathan," he whispered into his skin, stabbing his finger forward, counting to five in his head, then pulling it out slowly. All the while, he kept talking, cajoling. "Senility set in? Forget the question, Doc?" Another stroke, exactly the same as before.

This hadn't been in the plan: Graverobber, on the fly (of course) figured that he would give the surgeon a nice rim job, maybe a finger or two. He'd only planned on having the arms out of the way so he wouldn't get pushed off right when the assignation getting good. But Nathan was simply so stubborn, censuring himself even now with his legs spread and Graverobber's middle finger curled inside him. It simply wouldn't do.

He'd always been flexible on plans. "Do you want me to keep fucking you till you come? Or would you like to move onto something else?"
 
Nathan's jaw remained tensed, and it made a cord of muscle on the side of his neck stand out - muscle that Graverobber took advantage of almost immediately, at the same times as he pushed that finger back into him, and the simultaneous sensation caused a small noise to unwillingly escape the doctor. He kept his head pressed into the pillow, trying desperately to hold onto his last thread of willpower - but then that baritone was in his ear, murmuring implications that made Nathan wish yet again that he had his hands free so he could throw Graverobber down and do terrible things to him.

"I - oh jesus -" Nathan ground out, and his voice wasn't as hard as it normally was, and it was followed up by a low groan when Graverobber pushed his finger in again, pressing against the doctor's prostate, and Nathan knew then that at this rate, the scavenger would be able to make it last for a painfully long time. He wanted an answer from him, but it was a struggle just to accept that he was enjoying this, nevermind that the idea of - more - was suddenly appealing.

He managed to get out two words, trying to convey it,

"- Marcus, please."
 
That desperation almost got him, but Graverobber felt he'd been a little too charitable lately. Even this, really, was out of the kindness of his ... heart, and he deserved the chance to torture the poor thing a little more. "That, Nathan," the dealer said pleasantly, though his voice was gravelly; he was just as affected as this as the doctor was since he was the one with his finger on the stray thread, unraveling him row by row and enjoying every minute of it. "Is also not a proper answer."

Warm, soft lips on his ear contrasted with his rough voice as he stretched over the doctor to whisper, "It won't be so difficult." He propped his weight up on an elbow instead of his forearm so he could grab a cord of his own hair. After a moment spent examining the light blue strand, he took the frayed end and traced the flushed ear next to his lips thoughtfully. "After all, I would hate to do something you disliked, Doc." Graverobber brushed that same end lightly down the outstanding cord of muscle, penetrating finger still so he could concentrate on that slight motion. Nathan's torso was shorter than his and his arm span, but he was still almost over extending, the muscles in his shoulders protesting from holding himself up in such an odd position.

"I could even," he said slyly, mouth follow that brush of hair. "Add another finger if you wanted. You're tight," he confided lowly as if this was one big secret, "but I think I could fit one, two more in. More, if you wanted. You just have to ask clearly, Nathan."
 
Nathan's neck muscles twitched visibly as Graverobber moved the cord of hair over his skin; he let out a shuddering breath, trying to pull away from the sensation - it wasn't unpleasant, but it tickled, and right then his nerves felt like they were already on fire, and the too-gentle sensation felt like too much and not enough all at once.

Graverobber came closer, leaned in over him; the feeling of body heat was almost relieving, and for a moment he was able to see the other man - just a glimpse was enough to tell him Graverobber was enjoying himself a little too much, and the gravelly tone to the man's voice only emphasized it. Nathan made eye contact with the scavenger for an instant, and the doctor's eyes were clouded with pleasure and the fading buzz of alcohol - Graverobber continued to tease him, and the mouth on his ear made him shudder.

Articulating what he wanted felt impossible, embarrassing - but he was feeling his willpower bottoming out. The desire, the absolute need for heat and another body against his was taking over,

"Will you just take your clothes off, for god's sake," Nathan hissed out.
 
The eye contact nearly made this whole teasing thing too much: Nathan was enjoying it, wanted more, but he simply wouldn't ask. And the grave robber was just as stubborn. He wanted to hear that soft, careful voice go breathy and desperate while he begged.

That wasn't all that much to ask, was it?

"That's all you want?" the dealer teased, pulling away and slipping his finger out. He stripped out of his clothes quickly, leaving them in a pile near where he had tossed Nathan's pants and boxers, gleefully adding to the total disorder in the Wallace household. Best of all was the fact that Nathan Wallace probably didn't even give a damn, not right now. Before returning to his position, he took a moment to look the older man over: his conservative outfit hung on by a thread in the form of shirt and waistcoat pushed up right beneath his neck, more obscene than pure nudity. Slender legs were still parted, every muscle tensed into definition.

Graverobber crawled back to his spot along Nathan's lanky body, a hand skimming down his back to rest on his ass. "Anything else, Doc?" he asked sweetly, pressing a kiss to that faint scar again and his naked body to the good doctor's side. Slick fingers tapped along his rear.
 
Nathan made a small noise when Graverobber pulled away; behind him, he could hear the sound of material shifting and knew that the other man was stripping down to nothing, and being unable to see him was maddening. He took the time to try and steady himself, keeping his forehead pressed against the pillow, trying not to think about how he must look right then, stripped and exposed. Even though he couldn't see him, he could feel Graverobber's eyes roving him.

The doctor's body was in a slow burn; it was unlike anything he had experienced before, different from the hasty touching and stroking that they had engaged in before, this was a sensation that was almost too much for him to take. But he was also aware that it wasn't just because of what was being done to him, it was the fact that Graverobber was the one doing it, just another detail that Nathan didn't want to explore.

And Graverobber was aware of what he wanted, but the bastard was going to make him say it anyways because he was taking relish in watching the slow unravel of the older man's normally steely reserve of willpower. Frankly, Nathan couldn't blame him – not when only hours prior, he had taken no small amount of pleasure in watching Graverobber squirm and gasp, had been driven to make the man come and be utterly helpless. He had done it because almost anything would have been worth forcing Graverobber to make those noises, and knowing he was the one causing them. Even worse, Nathan was aware that it hadn't been the monster who had done it – it had been him, the mild-mannered doctor, he had been the one who had trapped Graverobber, the one who had taken advantage of him because he had wanted to do it, had wanted to make the younger man buck and plead.

Then there was movement on the bed, a hand slipping against his rear, and then the blessed touch of bare flesh against his side; he could feel every part of Graverobber's torso shift against him, and he wished he had his hands free so he could explore him in detail and see what spots made the man needy all over again.

Finally, the words slipped out before he could help himself, and Nathan was sure they sounded ridiculous coming from him, that his voice didn't even sound like his because it was too breathy and vulgar and utterly desperate:

“Please, fuck me.” he said, suddenly grateful that he couldn't see Graverobber's expression.
 
Graverobber kept his lips moving against Nathanâ??s throat and jaw, cheerfully tasting the warmth of the good doctorâ??s blush and contributing to it as best he could. The colorful hue to the manâ??s skin made him seem so much younger, an illusion (or perhaps not: Nathan was aging well and perhaps the man would be so much more vital with enough sleep, food, and sex and less soul-crushingly evil business) that he simply couldnâ??t help but appreciate. The hair on his chest was wiry above thick, rubbery surgery scars, and he kept his torso against Nathanâ??s side both because he knew from the previous twitching that the manâ??s nerves were raw from over stimulation and because he wanted the doctor to be very clear that he wasnâ??t his dead woman.

The dealer didnâ??t like to have others infringing on his territory, especially the dead.

Fingers clenched, digging into Nathanâ??s muscle at those words as he sucked in a quick hiss of air. â??Ridiculousâ?? was the last word he would use to describe the surgeon at that moment. And, unlike Nathan, he felt no guilt in hearing that needy voice from the trapped man next to him: there was no sense of encroaching darkness on his soul, no fear that some internal demon was waiting to devour more of himself. No, this was, in his mind, simple, good fun.

Very good fun. Fun that made him shiver against the manâ??s thin side, made him gnaw at the muscle connecting neck to shoulder and kiss his ear gently and whisper, â??I would love to,â? as he tugged himself away from the older man. Those words had left an ache below his stomach that made him want to reach down and grab himself, even though he was no longer a horny teen that could do things like get his fourth stiffy in half a day.

Graverobber reached down for his pants to pull out the lube heâ??d stashed away. He didnâ??t want to hurt Nathan, after all, even if he wasnâ??t planning on putting something more substantial than a finger in the old man. But there was also the problem of his hands shaking: something in the way the good doctorâ??s voice and control had broke made him want to be gentle, made him nervous to ruin this delicate thing Nathan had handed him. Graverobber wasnâ??t entirely sure he wanted it and he certainly wasnâ??t sure that he didnâ??t want it.

God damned ambivalence. So perhaps his fun wasnâ??t as simple as he liked. What he did know, however, was that Nathan look wonderfully depraved and he had begged (begged!) for penetration: Graverobber wouldnâ??t pass that up. Clumsy fingers managed to get more lube on his palm than the actual digits before he calmed himself down, rested his re-slicked fingers between the manâ??s buttocks and kissed his shoulder. This time, he worked two fingers into the man, slow, careful not to do any damage.
 
He heard the intake of air beside him and recognized that his words had made an impact on Graverobber; he had expected the other man to laugh, or be amused by the utter desperation in his voice, Nathan wouldn't have blamed him for it after all, because he must have looked like quite the sight, the way he was right then.

But that wasn't it. He felt Graverobber shift beside him, felt the teeth biting roughly at the cord of muscle between his neck and shoulder, and he had to quiet himself because he wasn't sure his pride would allow him to withstand making too many embarrassing noises.

There was movement beside him again, and Graverobber's soft reply sent a small shiver through him; it was only a few moments, but exposed as he was, it felt like an eternity while the scavenger moved behind him – then there was the press of fingers, more this time, and it was both painful and unbelievably good. The doctor subdued the sound he made with the pillow because he was afraid he would be too vocal, his hips bucking again as the digits brushed against his prostate.
 
Graverobber shifted back, no longer half leaning across the older man. Better if he stayed here, closer to his ass, so he had better control of his movements. Especially if the doctor was going to buck like that. "Just like that, Nathan," he whispered, resting his other hand on the man's lower back, rubbing lazy circles on the tensed muscles attempting to sooth away any lingering pain.

And there would be pain. It was one of the few times that Graverobber dealt with an undrugged body and certainly his first with with a virgin. Well, male at least; he tended to enjoy women more often. The dealer leaned back, dropping his hand to spread Nathan's legs a little further, rainbow hair swinging over taught thighs. There was certainly something very naughty in watching his fingers disappear into the good doctor, especially since he knew this lewd show would probably kill the older man if he currently wasn't biting his pillow in an attempt to keep from moaning.

Next time, no pillows. He'd keep him on his back.

The thief kept a lazy pace up, slowly pulling out and sliding back in. "You're going to have to talk to me," he said gently, voice surprisingly serious. This wasn't the teasing of before; after all, he wasn't quite sure what to do with Nathan. Zydrate allowed him to be as rough as he wanted since the junkie wouldn't feel anything until it wore of and Graverobber wasn't in the habit of staying that long. "Tell me what you want."
 
This was distinctly unfair; he was bound, face-down, gasping and bucking beneath Graverobber, and he'd already swallowed his pride to say the words, and the thief was going to make him do it again. A low groan escaped Nathan Wallace, a mix of frustration and pleasure as the other man slowly slid his fingers in and out.

There was pain, small amounts of it, but as far as the doctor was concerned, the pain only made it better – though he couldn't be certain when his masochism had developed, he just knew that it seemed to be highlighted every time he ended up in the same general area as Graverobber. It seemed to be a mutual thing, however, because the younger man didn't shy away from Repo either.

Graverobber wanted Nathan to describe what he wanted to be done to him, and speaking right then seemed like an immense challenge, he wasn't even sure he trusted his own voice anymore because it had betrayed him several times now. Things that hadn't actually processed through his brain were slipping from his lips, leaving him wondering where they had come from because they didn't sound like things he would say – but then, he'd never exactly been in this situation before.

He had to tell Graverobber what he wanted, or this slow, gentle torment could go on for a long time, so the words came out in a single breath, very quiet as he tried to sum up what he wanted from the other man:

“Make the headboard hit the wall.” he said.

Soft wasn't what he wanted; gentle wasn't what he wanted. Right then, he found he wanted the same bizarre, needy sensation that had happened in the alleyway, the heat and desperation.
 
Nathanâ??s words made the grave robber stop, staring at that pale, rigid back. For a moment, he thought that he must have misheard him, that his straight-laced doctor could never have said that. Hell, curses were one thing, but this was down right explicit and that single breath of an answer sent a quiver down his spine that settled right in his groin. Suddenly, it didnâ??t matter that this was his forth time: that barely muttered whisper, the idea that his doctor wanted it rough was getting him hard all over again.

Two fingers would have to be enough. Something about that request sent Graverobber scrambling, scooping up the pants again to pull out a condom before flinging them back, fumbling with the shiny, foil wrapper and rolling the (thankfully clear, not neon-colored) rubber on his dick (Nathan wanted rough, but probably not bareback, not with a man with a history as varied as the thiefâ??s). Earlier, when Nathan had been in the shower, Graverobber had gone through his bedside table, both for curiosityâ??s sake and because he wanted to know with what exactly the good doctor could attack him. Now he used that knowledge to grope blindly for butterfly knife heâ??d found earlier. His normally deft fingers were suddenly much too long as he tried to flick it open, cursing as he nicked himself on the blade.

Graverobber leaned over Nathan to saw at his stained, worn blue scarf, unconcerned by itâ??s destruction. He could pull another one from the trash or a dead body, but offers to fuck Nathan came around only so often. To give himself a little time before the eventual power struggle that would come with Nathanâ??s freedom, he left a just a bit for the surgeon to tear through; snapping the knife closed, Graverobber dropped it somewhere near the older manâ??s torso (sense, part of him screamed to the rest of him: he was leaving a knife unattended and unknown where Repo could grab it if he felt so inclined, but frankly he didnâ??t give a damn) to pump himself with still slick fingers. Rough, his doctor had said, but Graverobber knew fingers were smaller than penises and that he couldnâ??t just go shoving in there and expect the man to enjoy it. No, he took his time here, too, positioning himself and pressing in with little, rocking movements of his hips. When Nathan was used to it, he could have hard and fast.
 
There was movement behind him again and suddenly Graverobber seemed to have lost his dexterity; there was fumbling now, and the other man had pulled away once more - then the knife came into his view, and Nathan watched the blade saw through the cloth that had been holding his wrists together and to the headboard. A small amount of the material was left, and Nathan knew it was because Graverobber wanted to have enough time to get himself settled before the doctor was able to fully function again; Nathan did make an effort to get his hands free before the other man could begin to torture him again - but almost the moment the cloth snapped and his arms were free, he felt Graverobber's hands on his hips.

He barely had time to feel relief that he could use his hands again, because the scavenger was pushing slowly into him and he had to press his palms into the mattress to steady himself - there was more pressure now, the girth was much more significant and it was causing a low, dull ache and a much more prevalent scrape of pleasure. Graverobber was going slowly, pushing his way in little by little, and Nathan knew it was an act of kindness on the scavenger's part, and a show of incredible willpower that he was taking his time, but something sparked inside of the doctor that caused him to use his hands as leverage and he pushed himself back against the other man.

He couldn't figure out if it had been a mistake or not, because there was the sudden and almost uncomfortable sensation of being filled - more pain, but also a more torturous press against his prostate that caused him to jerk, and tore a groan from the normally quiet man.
 
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