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Grave Matters: A Repo! Roleplay (SevenxKawamura)

Nathan hadn't expected much to come from the question, he had been aware that Graverobber wouldn't have many details to give - a man who sold Zydrate on the streets and slept in dumpsters, especially one as young as he was who looked as street wizened as he did - it was pretty clear Graverobber had started young. He was roughed up by his life, and he didn't seem to have any family to speak of, something that Nathan had been able to associate with - if it weren't for Shilo, he wouldn't have anyone. He was sure he would have lost his mind even more than he already had, if he didn't have his little girl.

He heard the small noises that escaped the scavenger, and it made Nathan smile to himself; the man was squirming beneath him, and Nathan knew it was because Graverobber was hard and pressing into the mattress, so Nathan decided to torment him by placing a little more of his weight on the man's hips to put more pressure on the already aching arousal. His hands continued their work, undeterred, his calloused palms moving down his back, along his spine, working through the knots at each vertebrae, down to his lower back and up his sides. He kissed the back of Graverobber's neck, and then left a hickey in the same spot, pleased by the sight of it.

He wouldn't ask for any more information from Graverobber; he found himself hoping the other man would do the same.

He moved down then, shifting himself off to the side so his hands could access Graverobber's legs now, and he pushed the sheets out of the way entirely to leave Graverobber bare to his gaze, and he found himself looking the man over, appreciating every line. His hands moved to his calves, his fingers dug deep into them, and unable to resist, he leaned in and placed a bite at the back of Graverobber's leg, just on a particularly tempting bit of muscle.
 
Nathan, when he wanted to, could be just as much of a sick bastard as his Repo Man counterpart, only Graverobber was willing to encourage this sort of evil. He groaned, hips flexing into the sheets, damning the older man and his expensive, smooth sheets. Why couldn't he have something like, like low thread count cotton that actually gave the friction he sought as he rubbed against the bedclothes. "You're a cruel man, Doc," he breathed, sighing appreciatively at the feel of suction.

His pale skin was going to be covered in bruises and oddly he was looking forward to it. It made him smile, the thought of Nathan seeing the thief marked and the entirely arousing image of him actually being excited by the little bruises.

That wasn't helping his swelling.

In fact, it was making it much worse. Once Nathan had swung off him, he rutted lightly into the sheets, trying just a little harder. Still pretty useless: his erection all but slid along the cool fabric, but that wasn't the whole point of that move. He glanced back to the doctor, grinning wickedly, then dropped his head and shivered. The fingers felt good, but the teeth, the teeth were better. It was probably medically incorrect, but he felt that he had a nerve connected directly from that spot Nathan had found to his groin, no stop in between for silly things like his brain.

It must have found a switch for his words, because, hesitantly, Graverobber offered, "I don't think I have any family, not that I know of. My mother left early and my father ran out when he couldn't pay my surgery." He wasn't exactly sure how to go about this; this was already more than he had ever told another person. "Grave robbing pays better than sucking cock," he added, closing his eyes in pleasure.
 
A soft laugh escaped Nathan as Graverobber gave a groan of frustration from the pressure put on his hips, and he watched as the man's hips jerked against the bed, seeking friction that he wouldn't be able to find from the smooth sheets. He knew it was sick in a way, but the sight of the other man's sexual frustration right then was oddly stimulating - as was the filthy smile that Graverobber shot his way. He had been ignoring it before, but now he found himself forced to acknowledge that he was hard as well because the way the man had looked at him had caused a throb between his legs that he couldn't disregard entirely.

his hands worked up to Graverobber's thighs, digging in and having to press harder, fingers pushing more in order to work through the thick muscles that he had found himself appreciating before - the muscles under his hands accounted for so many years of work, and the way they were formed was bizarrely appealing to Nathan. He ended up leaving a second mark along Graverobber's thigh, but he hesitated at what the man said next, eyes flicking up to run over Graverobber's profile, frowning.

He'd been left on his own, a kid forced to pay for his own surgery. Survived in any way he could.

He heard Repo make a small noise. It took him a moment to realize it was approval - understanding.

Nathan found himself moving up Graverobber's body; there was nothing he could say right then, there was no assurance he could give that wouldn't sound useless and contrived. He wanted to tell the man that he wouldn't need to worry about the next surgery, but it didn't seem right to say it - he just didn't want to admit he was the one who had brought the lungs for Graverobber, even though the man would figure it out instantly anyways.

Instead, he placed a kiss, warm and gentle, onto Graverobber's temple, and then another on his cheekbone. Those two little kisses were almost chaste, as though he was trying to apologize for what had happened to the man through those tiny gestures, his hands sliding on Graverobber's sides in small, gentle circles - but he knew not to let it stretch on, not to let Graverobber think too much about it. Feeling human was something Graverobber seemed to loathe, and it was something that Nathan sought - one of those strange separations.

So he slid one hand down between Graverobber and the sheets, grasping his straining erection and giving him several rough strokes.
 
Graverobber sighed again, exhaling as Nathan pulled himself back up. The scrappy body on top of him was becoming so familiar, so welcome; he'd been fighting against it, trying to ignore this new routine he was developing, but it was no use. He'd known that the moment he'd wandered back into Nathan's house, high as a kite and unhappy because the man wasn't there. In fact, he'd been positively lost; he couldn't have been more confused if the grave yards suddenly emptied of all their bodies.

There was a gentle mouth at his temple, then his cheek, and for a moment, Graverobber hesitated, breath poised in his lungs and throat as if he had just been caught in the rays of a GENcop's flashlight. Why was his doctor suddenly so tender? He let out the breath with a shudder. Because he expected pain.

The dealer knew he was sick in the head: some part of him told him that he should be upset, should be heartbroken to know his own parents left him like so much trash, but the pain simply wasn't there. He had liked his parents, of course, most kids did even if they did wrong by them, but they'd simply... been. The three of them had shared the same living quarters and genetics and that was about it. It wasn't as if he had been abused, no, more like simply neglected. He'd seen abuse in the form of battered women and fucked up kids, and he'd had none of that.

Just... no one had cared. And he hadn't cared back either.

He hissed, hips straining into Nathan's hand. The older man cared; he knew that. Graverobber was a dealer through and through and he could recognize an addict the same way some mean could a certain vintage of wine. Nathan was addicted to affection, to actually being kind and taking care with another human being, and Graverobber could supply that. He reached down, slowing Nathan's hand, and turned his head back to kiss him sweetly. "Let's try it your way, Doc," he murmured, smiling crookedly. "No rough housing."
 
He felt Graverobber's hand on his own, stopping him, slowing him down, and for an instant he thought he had done something wrong, or even hurt the other man; he leaned back to look at Graverobber, and found the other man offering him a wry smile. He was nearly taken aback by the scavenger's suggestion and his eyebrows rose very slightly, he ended up hesitating a little, eyeing the other man for a long moment as he tried to analyze the situation. Was Graverobber toying with him?

No, the hand on his and the passive position of the other man led Nathan to believe Graverobber was serious - rather than the rough, aggressive touches that they had used previous times, Graverobber was telling him to go slow, to take care and be gentle in the way that his mind often urged him to. There were times when Nathan appreciated the roughness, enjoyed the aggression, but right then, and especially after what Graverobber had just said, he simply wanted to pay close attention to the man - and this was the first opportunity to do so, the first time Graverobber hadn't tried to push away gentle affection.

Suddenly, he felt nervous - but he wasn't going to turn down the chance.

His hand continued to move, but this time the strokes weren't the rough, tugging kind - this was a slow, barely-there graze of his calloused fingertips against the sensitive skin while his other hand slipped underneath as well, seeking out one of Graverobber's nipples, finger circling around it while he leaned in and placed a series of kisses along the man's earlobe, his body pressed to the man's back.
 
He chuckled softly, more an expulsion of air than anything else. Of course. Of course Nathan would jump at it. Part of him whispered 'look, he just like the rest of the junkies, bed him and take whatever payment he offers' but that part was surprisingly small. The rest of him actually enjoyed the care, said that it was okay to be affectionate and gentle here when it was just them and this plush, warm world of darkness and blankets.

Nathan was making him soft. And worst of all, he didn't mind.

"Just like that," he breathed, instruction completely not necessary. Nathan knew what he was doing more so than Graverobber did because, while the doctor could count the number of orgasms he had in the last two decades on one hand, the thief's knowledge of being kind and gentle was only slightly above his ability to match cheese and wine (something he assumed happened somewhere because every high class event he'd shown up to -- uninvited -- had quite a lot of both). He wanted to talk, though, and he wanted his doctor to respond.

The grave robber shivered, not completely sure how such soft touches that could barely be labeled as such could make his body tense up and his muscles quiver, over taught with the desire for more. Nathan was a quick study: Graverobber moaned, reaching a hand back to run his fingers through the older man's hair. Like always, he was surprised at how soft the strands were as they slipped along his palm. "That feels really nice, Doc," he said, dropping his head to kiss the surgeon's forearm.
 
He could feel Graverobber trembling; the soft touches seemed to be working wonders on the man's body, likely a strange contrast to the rough housing that the man was used to - though these motions were familiar for Nathan, just in a very distant way. For years, his life had revolved around violence and pain, using his hands to tear open bodies, wield weapons, rip out organs; it was reassuring to know that he could still make them be gentle, he had begun to think he had forgotten how.

His finger moved in a slow, lazy circle around Graverobber's nipple before he slid his hand up, hand going to Graverobber's throat but not putting on pressure, just supporting, lifting his head slightly so he could kiss at the man's jawline and up his cheekbone and temple, the feeling of the man's kiss still lingering on his forearm.

His other hand continued to teasingly touch Graverobber's length, running a finger around the head, rubbing the pad of his index finger against the slit and brushing along the foreskin, not giving him any real friction, only touching him sparingly.
 
Graverobber wasn't sure he could remember someone being this careful with him before, treating him as if he were something that one didn't want to break. It was an odd feeling, this kindness; the dealer didn't know if he should sneer at it or relax into it.

His body was choosing the latter. Graverobber let his head roll back easily with a sigh; Nathan's mouth and breath were warm against his pale skin, the quiet sound of his breathing a reassuring sign of life in his ear. The whole experience might have been as bone-deeply unwinding if it wasn't for the cruelly subtle hand at his cock.

It felt good, though, even as he whimpered, hips pushing into the doctor's hand. He wasn't accustomed to this; sex was like the poison that passed for alcohol on the streets. It was best to swallow it down quickly and try to ignore the way it made you burn. This was subtle and, to Nathan, should be savored, breathed in and agitated until just the right moment. Graverobber squirmed, fighting the urge to simply wrestle the doctor to his back, to inject more violence into their activities. But Nathan didn't want that. He wanted teasing touches in which Graverobber couldn't help but feel every square centimeter of his rough fingers. "Please, Nate. Just a little more." Syllables were getting difficult for him.
 
Nathan's kisses moved back along Graverobber's earlobe, down the back of his neck; his left hand moved out, searching alongside the bed until his fingers snagged hold of the man's jacket where it had been dropped so carelessly while his right continued the gentle, teasing touches. For that instant, he managed to divide his attention as he dug into the man's jacket, trying to ignore the various and questionable items that his fingers ended up feeling out until he found one of the little packets, like the one Graverobber had used - it was convenient that he was so prepared anyways.

He had always been something of a talent with his hands; he hadn't done this part before - not since medical school, and that had been for a different purpose entirely - but he was sure he would learn quickly.

"What would you like more of, Marcus?" Nathan asked kindly, but there was was a teasing undertone, "This?"

He placed a few more kisses along the back of Graverobber's neck.

"Or is it this?" he asked, and slipped a finger along Graverobber's foreskin, teasing at the oversensitive spot, then letting one finger graze along the large vein on the underside.
 
Graverobber hissed, fingers digging into Nathan's scalp a little more roughly than he had wanted, but the old man was being cruel. He'd heard the sound of rustling cloth, recognized the almost unique sound of the heavy leather and ratty fur trim, but noises he didn't associate with the doctor. His coat then. The dealer's breathing sped up, the thought striking off a ragged edge to it. There were multiple things in his pockets, quite a few of them running the gamut from only frowned upon to terribly illegal and mostly drugs, but he still had more lube. Condoms, too, but he hadn't heard the crinkle of a foil package.

He meant to somehow indicate that he wanted more of Nathan's hand on his cock, but somehow "Both," slipped from his mouth. Well, then, there was no hiding it now. "You're making me soft, geezer," he added through gritted teeth. "And if you don't f... grab a condom along with the lube, I swear I'll push you back and ride you." It was a lie, of course; he was letting Nathan set the pace, but that didn't mean he couldn't try to hurry up the older man.
 
Nathan gave a soft laugh,

"That's odd," he said, "You don't feel soft."

He gave Graverobber a firm squeeze for emphasis, smiling against the man's spine, though a small shudder went through him because of Graverobber's threat - though, it wasn't particularly frightening, it only reminded him yet again of the throbbing ache between his legs. Despite what he said, Nathan didn't take a condom as well; no, he wanted to focus entirely on Graverobber.

He didn't go easy on the other man though, despite his groans; Nathan's fingers continued to torture him with feather-light touches and strokes that hardly touched him, drawing out all of the noises and twitches that he could get from the other man. Using his teeth and his left hand, he managed to open up the packet of lubrication, using his thumb to press it out onto his fingers; the lube was cool to the touch, so he pressed his fingers together to warm it with his own body heat.

He brought his mouth to the centre of Graverobber's spine, and he moved his left hand downwards, towards the scavenger's rear, one long, slick finger seeking out the sensitive ring of muscle, fingertip circling it a few times, a forewarning of sorts before he gently breached the tight opening to the first joint of his index finger, a small motion that was accompanied by another squeeze on Graverobber's cock.
 
Graverobber's hips bucked into that suddenly there grip'; he let out a soft 'oh' of pleasure, then gritted his teeth when the hand retreated back into the soft tease. "Cute. You're a sick bastard, Doc," he said fondly, dropping his head below the V of his shoulders. "Ignoring the, ah," he stopped to appreciate the feather-soft touches on his cock, suddenly very sad that his doctor's mouth wasn't on him.

God. It felt fantastic. Graverobber propped himself up a little more, remembered that he was saying something, and scanned his mind for whatever wrecked train of thought he could find. Ah. "Ignoring the whole 'being a sweetheart' bit," he said, proud of himself for remembering a word he had used perhaps twice in the last decade (and once referring to a nasty, chalky candy).

His back didn't even tense as the man returned his mouth to his spine. It was a vulnerable patch and he should have flinched, but he had lost that battle earlier. For good or bad, he trusted the old man, felt affection for him when he should have only been thinking about what he could con off him. The grave robber gasped, then exhaled, taking his doctor's finger easily; he might not usually play the penetrated partner, but he knew what he was doing. "W-what, no telling me to turn my head and cough?" he stammered, rocking back.
 
He felt Graverobber jerking against the bed, twitching against his hand, but he still didn't offer the friction he was seeking, continuing only to provide torturous swipes of his fingertips and then briefly running his hand up along Graverobber's abdomen, toying with the ticklish spot above his hip that had made him shudder before. He nipped at the skin near the man's spine, but the skin was taut enough that he could only leave a surface mark that faded quickly, and he laved his tongue over it,

"You could if you wanted to," Nathan said, noting that the scavenger was rocking his hips back, so he pushed his finger in further for a moment before pulling it back out again; Graverobber was taking the penetration in a way that told him this had happened before - though the man was tight, he was clearly more experienced with this than the doctor was. With that in mind, he smiled to himself and added a second finger, slowly pushing them both in, pumping them inside of Graverobber a few times before he experimented, carefully flexing his fingers inside of Graverobber, searching for the spot that would make him buck.
 
It was an extremely difficult thing for him to get used to. The grave robber was used to quantity of sexual experiences, not quality. Normally, he would have come by now and probably be doing up his pants, leaving the twittering junkie to his or her devices. But right now, his cock ached and even that thin finger was sending lines of warmth up his spine and down, surprise, surprise, to his erection. His body wasn't quite sure what was going on.

Only that it felt wonderful.

The dealer's hips followed Nathan's retreating fingers for a moment, just a few inches but it was still a needy motion. "Fuck," he breathed, feeling strangely empty; it had been awhile, yet the slim finger wasn't enough, not nearly enough. "Let me turn on my back," he rasped, muscles pulling in the doctor's two fingers. Graverobber ran his tongue over his lips in hesitation, then, "I want to see you."
 
There was a hesitation on Nathan's part, at Graverobber's rasped request - was it a request, or a demand? - that he be allowed to turn onto his back. He allowed himself to consider it for a few moments, taking that time to continue his gentle torment, pleased to see Graverobber's hips trying to find more contact, to gain more penetration. He pushed his fingers in deeper, enough to tease Graverobber further before he pulled them out again, moving back so the other man would be able to turn over.

He couldn't protest to the idea; he found he would be pleased to see Graverobber's reactions - the man's face was expressive, and having better access to the man's neck and chest was tempting. He kept his hands to himself for that short period of time, leaning back to get another appreciative, full-length view of him.
 
It was a request. It was completely a request. If Nathan had, after his long pause, said 'no', Graverobber would have listened. He might have asked again, perhaps with a little more of the desperation his doctor was so fond of, but he'd given this time over to the surgeon. If Nathan had wanted him on his stomach the whole time or his knees, he would have obeyed. Graverobber wasn't quite sure what that eagerness meant. Probably wasn't good, whatever it was.

Graverobber sucked in a breath of air through his teeth. God. Long fingers. Wonderfully long fingers that were moving in deeper and out again an-- the dealer groaned, feeling the sudden emptiness again. God fucking damn. He spread his legs a little, muscles clenching around nothing, but Nathan was moving. Right. So he could move. The dealer glanced back, then turned, stretching as he did and resting a large hand on his stomach, where the hair darkened and started to widen out. Graverobber leaned back, propping himself up on one elbow, that same hand rubbing circles into his own skin. "Enjoying the view, Doc?" he teased, lips still curled in a smirk but not one that looked like it belonged on the face of a misanthropic felon. No, there was nothing more threatening than a hint of mockery and a twinge of color on his cheeks.
 
Nathan watched the shift of muscle beneath pale skin; in some spots, he could see the blue webbings of veins, particularly in the crook of Graverobber's elbow - which he noted was flecked with scars, just like so many other parts of him, but he recognized those particular scars as being a result of repeated needle insertions. Nathan nearly tutted his disapproval but he stopped himself by leaning in and running his tongue over those scars instead, feeling the ridge of them before leaning back and looking Graverobber over a second time.

He nodded in response to Graverobber's question, watching the man stretch out on his back, naked and shameless - it was astoundingly attractive, the confidence with which the other man presented himself, and though Nathan's expression was roughly as deadpan as it always was, but behind the glasses his eyes were bright with a sort of playfulness, and they followed the trail of Graverobber's hand, looking over the dark hair that trailed down the man's abdomen.

But there was that hint of mockery in Graverobber's voice and that just wouldn't do right then, so Nathan reached out and grasped Graverobber's length with lubricated fingers, stroking him a few times to pull a reaction out of him before leaning in and kissing along his sternum, up the cords of his throat, and placing another kiss on his lips - brief first, followed by another, more enthusiastic one that had him tugging lightly on Graverobber's bottom lip with his teeth.

And as he did that, his hand slipped back down between Graverobber's legs, moved underneath, and he pushed his fingers back inside of the man without any sort of warning.
 
Bright blue eyes watched Nathan's, noting that his own gaze lingered on the faded red lines of scar tissue. He could see the scolding words build up behind the man's lips and imagined that his tongue darting out to touch the scars was all the more hot for it. That had been before Z, when he'd found the few other imperfect cures that still existed, because the glow was too expensive for anyone but the richest of junkies. Of course, Z and irresponsible surgery had swept all other drugs into second place, and you could shoot up from any part of your body. It was easier than trying to find a vein. Nathan had probably touched various bags of things in his coat, but Graverobber only sold Zydrate; it was the only thing worth selling. The rest were just for him to play with.

Graverobber's smile widened, crawling across his face like something skittering from the light. He was a smug bastard, intensely comfortable in his abused body and almost proud of it. After all, junkies might sleep with anything that looked like it had a glowing vial sticking out of it's pocket, but he was very aware he was attractive. Attractive enough in some way that he'd convinced this hermit of an old man to bed him (though, that was perhaps something more to do with his stubbornness). He let his hand drift a little lower, teasing both himself and Nathan, an eyebrow arched as he took in that almost playful look.

Something in him cracked and leaked warmth. Those eyes were so bright, so much younger and there was no hint of the monster lurking in them. His smile softened, but Nathan might not have noticed, because he was soon dropping his head back, thighs tensing as a rough hand pumped up and down a few times. Nathan's dominant: he could feel the callouses, rough skin contrasting with the soft lips. They kissed until Graverobber was breathless, the scavenger letting his doctor lead even here until fingers were suddenly entering him again. Then, he had to pull away to gasp, pressing his forehead against Nathan's. "God, yes," he hissed, pulling up a leg so Nathan could have better access.
 
The kiss went on until they were both breathless, until neither of them could continue it without needing to pull in two lungfuls of air, though Graverobber barely had the time to breathe in before he was grinding out a soft moan. Nathan moved his available hand under Graverobber's leg, lifting it up over his shoulder, using the change of position to push his long fingers in further and he began to move them inside of him again in a slow, steady pace.

He kept himself leaning forward over Graverobber so he could continue to nip at the man's lips and place kisses down over his jaw and throat. Experimentally, he crooked his fingertips inside of the scavenger, searching, pressing deeper to find his prostate.
 
Now this was a position he hadn't been in for a long time. The grave robber groaned, hips rocking up in time with Nathan's fingers. "Control freak," he bit out, laughing then groaning: those fingers were getting deeper, filling him, not enough, but a good start. It seemed that Nathan was content to keep fingering him instead of actually slicking up his dick and fucking him proper. No, he'd stay dressed and fairly under control, tweed trousers covering his sizable erection.

That image really shouldn't make him harder, but it did. Graverobber bucked, tightening around Nathan's digits. "There, Doc." A strong hand came up to clutch at the surgeon's back as he pulled him down for another sloppy kiss. He managed, some how, to keep the pace slow, like the penetrating fingers, tongue exploring Nathan's mouth before he pulled away to gulp down air. "Sure you don't want to just--" A hand trailed down the line of his jaw and his neck. "Slip on a rubber and fuck me till I can't walk?" His voice had gone oily, as if he thought the depraved purr was somehow more persuasive.
 
He felt Graverobber's muscles tighten and clench around his fingers, and he marked the spot out, memorized it; he allowed himself to be tugged down into a messy kiss, their tongues pressing together only for a few moments before they broke away again for air. He felt Graverobber's hand on his jaw and slipping down his throat and he brought his hand up to touch the man's arm, kissed his wrist; he was unable to suppress a shudder at the man's words, but he didn't give in.

Instead, he leaned forward, and he let a slow smile curve along his lips, eyes flicking over the other man's face, and as an answer, he pushed his fingers in again, pressing them against his prostate and massaging the spot intently. Very casually, he pushed the frames of his glasses back up his nose, the smile lingering.
 
His wrists were unscarred, sensitive in the lack of prodding and poking he'd done. Of course, the thief was fairly sensitive everywhere, the results of a very high reliance on touch or, perhaps, the cause of it, he was never quite sure. All he knew was that he was distinctly aware of Nathan's lips and the moisture they left behind; he shivered along with the older man, knowing he'd failed to convince him, even before he got that self-satisfied little smile.

Asshole.

Graverobber jerked, one eye open in a squint as he watched Nathan. "You're enjoying this too much," he said softly, leg muscles straining as he pushed down and prayed he wouldn't end up with a Charlie horse. He wanted more and the bastard wouldn't give it to him. "Kinky bastard," the dealer murmured, stretching up to kiss the older man's nose.
 
Another soft laugh escaped Nathan, and the smile looked just a little more genuine - less cocky, and warmer when Graverobber placed a kiss on his nose. Something about the motion had caused a warm sort of feeling in the doctor's chest because it had been so astoundingly intimate.

"I could always stop if you prefer," Nathan said, his tone far too bright, a playful sort of threat - one of the rare ones to escape the doctor that didn't threaten death or injury. He drew his fingers back, pressed in a third, began to pump them in and out of Graverobber then, suppressing another shudder at the heat; he pushed his fingers in fully, stopping them just brushing against his prostate to emphasize his point, bringing his other hand around to toy at the man's abdomen, near his straining erection but not touching.
 
Good God, Nathan was almost happy. Graverobber returned the smile, unknowingly feeling the same inner warmth as something in his chest tightened. He'd done that. His doctor ran around with Rotti Largo's breath down his neck to do his bidding, had some terrible secret the old goat was hiding, but he had managed to make his doctor smile.

Ugh. Any sweeter and he'd attract ants. Or turn into Nathan, the Nance.

Unfortunately, he meant that insult in the nicest way possible.

"If you stop, I'll bite off your ear." The scavenger pushed back against those fingers, squirming as he felt... was that a third? Now he was starting to feel full enough, but there was a certain greedy hunger that had him imagining the good doctor's erection and wasn't it a shame that it was going to waste? He moved with the thrusts, soft sounds of pleasure accenting every push in and then--

Graverobber grit his teeth, holding on to Nathan to keep from touching himself. "Ass," he whispered. "I'm not begging this time."
 
"That's alright," Nathan said soothingly; it was difficult to tell if he was toying with Graverobber while using that tone or not, "I know what you really meant to say was, 'no Nathan, please don't stop', so I'll let that one go."

Yes, he was toying with him - about as nicely as any person can be toyed with while naked and painfully aroused - and he was quite clearly enjoying the situation. Graverobber's fingers pressed into his shoulders and he decided to give the man a break,

"Even though you sound fantastic when you beg," Nathan murmured against Graverobber's mouth, and then pressed his fingers in deep again, moving them against Graverobber's prostate while his other hand slipped around his erection, stroking him in earnest with smooth, slow motions.
 
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