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Grave Matters: A Repo! Roleplay (SevenxKawamura)

The doctor managed to be bizarrely quiet as Graverobber utilized his mouth, and he found himself almost embarrassed by how quickly he grew hard - he was sure there was some rule that middle-aged fathers weren't supposed to be so responsive, and some part of his mind clung to the idea that every aspect of this was wrong, so very wrong. He shouldn't be allowing or enjoying this but, god, he was.

His eyes fell closed when Graverobber pulled back but there was no time to collect himself because a large, rough hand was grasping him, stroking him slowly and firmly and for a moment Nathan's knees went weak, but he caught himself before it became too obvious,

"You just couldn't behave yourself," Nathan said, managing to sound admonishing even through the hot spray of water and with the scavenger's face level with a now painful erection; he found himself wondering how many times he had found himself hard because of the man in front of him - he had lost count, "Not even for a few hours."

He twitched at the kiss on his abdomen, one hand slipping unconsciously into Graverobber's hair, fingers sliding through the thick, colourful cords.
 
In response to Nathan's tone, which managed to sound more like he was speaking to an unruly school boy not a man that was currently using long, clever fingers to explore every square inch of his erection. A very angry looking one, mind you, that simply couldn't be comfortable. Nathan should be thanking God for the Graverobber, who was more than willing to take care of the swelling his doctor had suddenly developed. That he was the cause of it never crossed his mind save to boost his ego: after all, didn't most men start popping meds around this age to get results like these? The scavenger pressed another kiss to the older man's stomach, mostly innocent save for the chin, prickly with stubble, rubbing against the head of his cock.

Graverobber looked up and smiled widely, having been one of those children that responded to scolding in a mostly positive manner and Nathan simply held no threat when he was pushed up his own shower's wall.

"Why would I want to behave myself?" he rumbled, fingers slipping down Nathan's length then up again. He could feel the doctor's hand in his hair, a heavy sort of security that made him leer up at the older man as he licked from base to tip.
 
A choked noise escaped the good doctor when the graverobber's stubbled chin rasped over the bare, sensitive tip of his cock - it sent a tremor through the older man's body, and he leaned his head back against the ceramic tiles for a moment to collect himself again. Somehow, even with the heat of the water, the shower wall was still cool against his skin and the combination of temperatures and sensation made things seem oddly surreal, almost dreamy.

He looked in time to watch Graverobber drag his tongue up his length; for a moment, his hand clenched in the scavenger's hair and he found himself tugging on the cords to pull the man's head back, enough that his eyes could flick over the man's expressive features, and right then, there was a sudden flicker of hunger in Nathan's eyes, something strange and hungry that existed only for an instant and belonged only to Nathan, not his darker half.

Then he was leaning in - an accomplishment in the cramped quarters - and he managed to clumsily move their mouths together and he tugged Graverobber's bottom lip between his teeth, one hand still in his hair, the other on one shoulder, tugging him in.
 
The younger man hissed, one eye squinting shut from the sudden pain as Nathan yanked his head back into some awkward position that reminded him of that night in the alleyway. Only his doctor was naked, not in the heavy butcher's smock, and there was something so very needy that lurked in the back of those lopsidedly colored eyes before turning and vanishing like a kid that had done something bad. Graverobber's expression softened from something that looked like it belonged in that dark alleyway playing with Repo to a gentler, honest one that belonged to Nathan as much as that little slip.

Graverobber chuckled softly, pulling away a little after their quick kiss. "Careful, Doc," he teased, face close enough that he butted noses and breathed in the same air that the older man had just finished with. "You'll slip. Or throw your back out." His lip stung from Nathan's teeth as he sucked it in, tasting just the slightest hint of pennies. The scavenger managed, some how, to get standing without cracking his head, an accomplishment along the same lines of Nathan kissing him. "Huh," he grunted, thoughtfully, running a finger along his bottom lip then pulling it away to look at it. Blood.

"Sharp little teeth," he murmured, pressing the finger to Nathan's lips.
 
"It would be a good way to go, anyways," Nathan said wryly; a fantastic end to a Repo career - death in the shower, concussed while having a rough necking session with his graverobbing, drug-dealing bedmate and dying at age forty-two with an erection; he couldn't help the amusement that flickered across his face. Undignified, embarrassing - yes, it seemed like an appropriately ironic death, the only thing that would be more ironic would be something public, given his penchant for withdrawing from the rest of the world.

But death, he supposed, wasn't a good topic right then.

He watched Graverobber swipe at his bottom lip and for a moment Nathan felt a swell of guilt; he must have lost control, and he was about to apologize for it, about to tell the other man he wasn't sure what had come over him, but then that finger was pressing against his lips and he found himself drawing the digit into his mouth. He didn't even think before he did it, his eyes on Graverobber and the taste of the other man's blood shocked some part of him, made some sick part of him squirm with delight while Repo nastily tried to have a chance - but Nathan refused him again, and found himself both disturbed and sickeningly aroused by what he was doing.

Blood. He shouldn't be reacting this way to it, it wasn't - normal. He was sure it wasn't healthy.
 
Sometimes Nathan's face was a little more open (or Graverobber had simply become more sensitive to the little twitches at the corner of his mouth or the way the lines at his eyes tightened) and the scavenger could watch his doctor's little smile flicker on then off.

There was no point in wasting energy on squishing down the part of him that was showing up with alarming frequency, the little voice that was growing louder every day that tuned in now to say 'look how his eyes light up when he smiles'. It was annoying as all hell, but the Graverobber didn't really want it to go away because he really did like Nathan's eyes when they were bright with something like laughter.

And maybe he also liked watching that face go from apologetic horror to something much darker. Graverobber chewed on his bottom lip, watching as Nathan sucked his index finger in, not even closing his eyes when he felt the older man's tongue on the rough pad of his finger. Of course. Blood. Just like before, on the couch, when Nathan had gone at him like some middle-aged piranha. "Like that?" he whispered, voice low enough that the spray of water covered it. Didn't matter. Graverobber, leaned forward, finger still in the doctor's mouth, and ghosted stained lips over the older man's. Here Nathan had been so good not to break the skin that Graverobber had nearly forgotten the old man enjoyed blood and now they had an appointment with his land lord. They would have to blame the split lip on ... well, something other than exploration.
 
Nathan found himself staring at Graverobber, watching the spray move across the man's face, eyes tracking the droplets that were following along the lines and curves of his cheekbone and jawline, and most of all, he found his eyes focusing on the way the water was moving over the man's bottom lip, dragging the blood with it and briefly staining his chin pink. He didn't hear what Graverobber had said, but he knew what the words had been anyways, and he felt some measure of shame because of the bizarre heat blossoming in his spine and his chest - this was a different kind of arousal, something Nathan found a little startling.

His eyes had flicked down to Graverobber's mouth, watching for a long moment before making eye contact again when their lips brushed, and for a moment Nathan froze, didn't move, mismatched eyes staring hard into Graverobber's blue ones before he swiped his tongue across his bottom lip, and then suddenly wrenched him in hard, the movement forcing their bodies together. Even with the soap, with the water running, he could smell the blood, and the scent was coiling something in him that had him maneuvering them, had him shoving Graverobber up against the porcelain tiles now, hard enough that their teeth clicked for a moment while his fingers dug into the scavenger's arms. He scarcely noticed doing it, but he rocked his hips up against the other man's, briefly absorbed by the sheer physicality.
 
Graverobber let out a loud bark of laughter that was swallowed up by the kiss, if he could call it that. Nathan had pushed him up against the tiled wall, knocking the air out him with both the shock of that much cold tile behind him and strength that had kept him up when his feet threatened to slip on the wet porcelain, and was now attacking his mouth with enough violence to tear something else. The scavenger wasn't sure he wanted more blood in the equation, at least not in any sensible way; a few drops, and Nathan seemed to go at him like a shark.

"Fuck, yes," he managed between kisses. Nathan's body was hot against his own and wonderfully hard and Graverobber didn't think there was anywhere else he'd rather be at the moment then in that old Victorian necking with an old nut of a doctor. Not when the water was mixing with sweat and blood and tiles that felt like particularly hard corpses behind him and Nathan's erection was pressing against his own. "God," the dealer murmured, then, a little louder, "Blood, Nate? You kinky fuck." There was a teasing sort of smile on his abused lips, his own eyes open as he watched the older man from a distance that was small enough to have their noses touching. He was slowing the action down; later, the could explore, and maybe bring something sharp. Later, when they had time and Graverobber had a full vial of Zydrate to take the doctor down should the night surgeon show up to the party.
 
He felt the vibration of Graverobber's laugh - a positive reaction, at least - but the noise barely made it out into the open due to the ferocity and insistance of Nathan's kiss. His fingers held the other man's shoulders perhaps a little tighter than they needed to as the doctor pulled the other man's bottom lip in and sucked on it, tasting the blood from the broken skin, combined with the taste of Graverobber himself.

He heard the other man groan and the sound caused another stroke of heat down Nathan's spine, and he pushed his hips against the scavenger's again, the mix of soap and water creating a perfect slide of skin - then he heard Graverobber's next comment after the kiss had broken, found himself nose-to-nose, and he suddenly felt a shock of embarrassment from his own behaviour and he realized his breathing had quickened.

He had no way to explain himself, and wasn't sure he wanted to - but the taste and smell of blood was lingering and for an instant, it had felt like his self control was draining.
 
Condoms seemed silly; the man had already sucked down several fluids from him, so what did it matter that they didn't have access to rubbers in the shower? Nathan was hard and pleasantly insistent, and Graverobber wanted the good doctor to shove him face first into the tile and have his way with him using no more prep than what he'd had earlier. After all, how often did he get the father, not the monster, tearing into his skin and rutting against his hips like an animal?

"Later, Doc," he repeated, teasing as he pressed another kiss to the side of the older man's mouth, noting how the skin was smooth and tasted of something clean. From shaving, then, or maybe after shave, the grave robber didn't care: the taste was completely Nathan, especially when layered on top of his own blood. Another kiss, this time to the doctor's nose. His lips were throbbing with blood, bruised and sore but in a good way, the same sort of good way his neck was injured. Large hands rested on Nathan's trim hips as he grinned. "You can even bring one of your scalpels. We'll play doctor."
 
Control.

Self-control - where had that vanished to, these days? It seemed every time he had a moment like this with Graverobber, a little more of that willpower drained away, fluttered off somewhere that Nathan couldn't reach; there was something frustrating and - if the doctor thought about it - slightly terrifying about the concept.

A shudder passed through him and Nathan ducked his head, pressed his forehead to Graverobber's chest for a moment, took in a breath to steady himself because - this wasn't him, he wasn't like this, he was calmer than this. His hands slipped down Graverobber's arms, releasing him from the near-bruising grip that he'd only just realized he'd been holding the other man in.

"That would be a bad idea." Nathan said hoarsely, as the scenario moved through his mind anyways - him with a scalpel, Graverobber at his mercy. All it would take was for Repo to claw his way up, so he added just as roughly, "No, can't do that."
 
Nathan wasn't the only one struggling with control. Graverobber was smart: he knew better than to like Repo Men and want them to stand over him with a sharp instrument in hand, so why was he offering this? Even with a whole thing of Z, it'd be dangerous. Repo was fast and strong, could probably kill him before he lifted the gun. But there was that image of Nathan, eyes half lidded and scalpel held to his throat, that he just couldn't shake off now that he'd imagined it.

He was sicker than he thought.

Graverobber pulled Nathan close and rested his chin on the grey head, the rough voice making him shiver. Unlike his crappy shower, the water was still warm and combined with the man's forehead against his chest, was good enough to heat him through his bones.

"It's a great idea, Doc," he murmured, reaching over to turn the water off, ignoring the protest of bruised muscles. Damn, but Nathan had a grip; he wanted to shake them out as if movement would undo any damage, but drawing the doctor's attention to his discomfort would only work against him. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself. You can just cut me and fuck me." His hands were pink from the heat as he raised them, cupped Nathan's face to get him to look at the scavenger. "I'll even listen to you. While you're doing it. It's a good deal, Nate. You'll probably cream your pants being in charge."
 
Without the running shower as background noise, Nathan found himself concentrating on the sound of Graverobber's breathing, and the throb of the man's heart - and he wondered how badly the organ had deteriorated over the years, it had been so long since it had been replaced, and with only a couple years use left out of it, he had to question if Graverobber had felt its effects yet. Did his heart rate go erratic some days? Did he have times where he couldn't breathe, where he felt like his chest was collapsing?

Had the years of Zydrate use accelerated the damage?

Was he occasionally blindsided by the realization that he could die any time soon, that he had only a borrowed amount of time because his heart was nearing its expiry date? Or did he ever think about what would seem like an inevitable, rapidly-approaching death?

Nathan felt the warmth of fingers against his face, and he found himself looking up at Graverobber, his expression arranged to be carefully blank, doing his best not to display his own thoughts,

"I don't think it would be that simple," Nathan said, almost chastisingly - it was a difficult tone to manage while one was dripping wet, naked, and hard, but by gum, the doctor could do it. His hands reached for Graverobber's, fingers slipping around the man's wrists, but only for a moment, just enough for a pleasant, affectionate touch before he took a step back, broke the physical contact, adding, "You need to see Bankole soon."

He just managed to stop himself from saying 'we'.
 
"What's not simple about it?" To Graverobber, the whole thing was uncomplicated. No, that wasn't correct. The whole thing was a complicated maze filled with booby traps that involved fire, large arrows and several species of poisonous snakes, but the scavenger ignored that. One room at a time, or something. He didn't get where he was by worrying about the big picture, not as it applied to him. Certainly not as it applied to him and Nathan, which was a whole 'nother level of bad and dangerous, even without the scalpels involved.

The older man's absence was its own creature: some part of him ached with the knowledge that they'd have to go back out of the house and right up onto stage, and little touches and affectionate moments were forbidden out there. Had to be. Graverobber couldn't let his customers see him getting soft and neither of them could afford King Largo catching them.

Again.

Graverobber sucked in his bottom lip, taking in the older man's form, specifically that rather angry looking erection. Nathan could go the stern father route all he liked, but that didn't seem to ruin his enthusiasm. "Look," he said roughly. "Let me just finish you off while you ... I dunno, towel off. Do your hair. Sanitize your mouth." The dealer glanced up, grinning crookedly. "I'll behave myself afterwards."
 
Nathan quirked an eyebrow upwards,

"Now you're just being difficult," he said, trying to maintain the chastising tone but finding himself unable hold back the touch of amusement; he wasn't certain he could fully explain the complications in what Graverobber was suggesting.

Most people were capable of predicting their own reactions, of knowing what they would do when presented with a particular situation - but then again, Nathan wasn't certain how common it was for someone to struggle with the decision of whether or not to bring a knife into their bedroom activities. In fact, the fact it was even in question was disturbing him - because it wasn't just Repo who liked the idea, it was also the kinder, gentler half who had found some temptation in it, who saw a bizarre elegance and passion in the idea of watching Graverobber's blood streak against his pale skin. Nathan, the concerned father, the grieving widower - still had the taste of it in his mouth and had to shamefully acknowledge to himself that the thought only deepened his arousal when he was sure it should have dampened it.

But he couldn't trust himself, couldn't trust Repo - it would only take a few seconds of being inattentive, or letting his control slip just a little and he knew he would be capable of killing Graverobber. That particular thought made it difficult to meet the other man's eyes, made him wonder if his monster had somehow stopped being contained.

He shook his head, tried to keep those thoughts from showing on his face, but the worry came to his eyes anyways,

"No, no - you're right, it's probably best we - wait." Nathan said, moving back, moving away from what he realized had become a comforting touch to him.
 
"Your choice, Doc." The scavenger squeezed his hair out in the tub, drips drumming loud enough to chase away any thoughts that were floating around in his head. It wasn't fair of him to ask, not when Nathan liked to think he wasn't affected by blood, that gore was entirely the realm of his nastier half (less than half, he told himself stubbornly as he straightened again).

Graverobber stepped out, surprisingly graceful for a giant goofball of a man. "So you going to tell me why we're seeing Ray?" Unlike Nathan, he was willing to say 'we'; after all, he wouldn't stop in to see his landlord unless he had a very, very good reason, not when the man was annoying as all hell. "I'm not looking forward to telling him I'm behind in rent because I'm spending my nights with you." Hell, he didn't want to tell anyone he was spending his nights or early mornings with Nathan, not chasing him down and certainly not screwing him.
 
Nathan took his time with the question because there was really no pleasant way of telling a person they were going in for emergency surgery - that, and he wasn't certain that Graverobber would be willing to go through with it; nerves had a way of toying with people, after all, and Nathan found he wasn't willing to risk the unpredictability of Graverobber's reaction. He couldn't be certain another chance like this would present itself, and the sooner that the scavenger had the organ replaced, the more likely he would be to survive the operation.

Pulling on his clothes - and taking a particular amount of ease with the trousers due to a lingering problem - he frowned at his gray reflection in the mirror,

"I believe it's a personal matter." Nathan tried.
 
Graverobber watched Nathan dress, eyes taking in what was quickly becoming a familiar body. A skinny one, too. The dealer had to suck down his tongue to keep from clicking it against the roof of his mouth; over the last two days, he had become extremely protective of that body. Blue eyes sought out Nathan's own nearly colorless ones, examining the face in the mirror. His doctor looked older, like he was tucking himself back together, sweeping away all traces of color and disarray and life.

Like he would have to do when they left. He didn't like it.

The dealer slinked up behind him, placing large hands on Nathan's thin hips. "Could you be any more vague, Doc?" he rumbled lowly, dropping his head to nose at the older man's discolored neck. That part of him had color, at least. He could threaten not to show, after all, Nathan couldn't make him (actually, he probably could), but his doctor was spooked enough as it is. "I'm leaving the Zydrate here. I don't want to get cleaned out by whatever this 'personal matter' is."
 
"I could be," Nathan reasoned, looking at Graverobber through his mirror's reflection while his hands busily arranged the buttons on his waistcoat, "I'm sure if you allow me to redo the conversation, I could be much more cloak and dagger about it. I could use codenames, perhaps you could refer to me as gumshoe."

He felt the hands place themselves gently on his hips, not to instigate anything, but merely to touch - it seemed strange to him still, the nature of a casual touch, and that alone made him realize how terribly depressing his life would seem to any third party. Nearly two decades of his life had gone by where the only human contact he had was a hug from his daughter or the scratching of nails down his arms from dying patients. It would be even worse for Shilo, who had never experienced much human contact at all; it was their interaction alone that created the whole of her social life, and the guilt of that fact was something that had eaten at him every day of his life. Shilo had never had friends, never been outside, beyond the times she had gone to her mother's grave - but only with a gas mask on, because even if some of his paranoias were extreme, the air was a real threat - her world had consisted of the walls of their home.

He continued to remind himself; one day it would change. When things were safer, when Rotti Largo was gone, he could let Shilo leave, he could let her begin her life - he would ease her off of the poison, he would make sure she was healthy, and he would let her flourish. She could go to school; she was too intelligent for her own good, she could make something of her life and he had the money to get her anywhere.

Just - he had to wait. Rotti Largo needed to be gone.

Shilo had to be safe.

For a moment, Nathan's eyes fell closed when Graverobber nuzzled at his throat, and his hand back and found Graverobber's arm, fingers simply ghosting over the other man's bicep, warm and wet from the shower. He found himself praying for the first time in years because the last solace of a desperate man was God, even if it was a God he didn't technically believe in; he found himself praying that Graverobber lived through the surgery.

"Yes, be careful with Dr. Bankole; he looks like something of a bruiser. He might even shank you." Nathan said mildly.
 
Nathan's fingers were warm, lively things. There was a certain deftness to the digits, a surety and quickness of movement that Graverobber had become very fond of. They reminded him of his own, then surpassed his and made him feel like some junkie with stumps for hands. The scavenger reached down, taking Nathan's hand and kissing the tips of fingers. He was allowed to be irrationally fond of body parts, after all. It was an appreciation of skill, human beauty and all that.

It wasn't anything more.

But there was something about that dry humor that showed up every once and awhile, spoken in a tone of voice that caused Graverobber to have the mental equivalent of a doubletake: he could never be sure if Nathan was joking or not, even if all the words put together were obvious.

"Way to make me feel like a kid, Doc," he teased, his own large fingers twining with hands that were nearly the same size but much more attractive to him. "'Gumeshoe?' Gonna start referencing the old radio shows as well?" He liked this, this touching thing. Oh, sure, he was still half-hard from earlier, but the warm water must have made him lazy: he didn't want to take care of the problem. He was enjoying non-sexual touching.

Some part of Graverobber gagged. Non-sexual touching was for women and old men. Fine for Nathan, but he was still in his prime and should be ... well, not touching for the hell of it. The rest of him, though, was amused by that quiet humor, one corner of his mouth twitching up as he watched Nathan's face in the mirror. Somehow, the man's color was less than that of an old mattress than usual.

"I'll have you know, Nate, he nearly took me down with a golf club a few days ago. Now," he said, fingers pressing into Nathan's sides as he attempted to turn the two of them so they could face each other, "I should probably scare you by mentioning that I wandered to the bathroom naked."
 
Nathan's eyes went half-lidded as Graverobber kissed at his fingertips and he let out an involuntary, appreciative sigh,

"I could probably riff off a line or two from War of the Worlds," Nathan proposed, fingers flexing lightly, and he brushed his thumb across Graverobber's bottom lip while his hand was raised to the man's mouth; there was no waxy sensation left on his skin this time, which was strange to him now, but still nice, because they were the scavenger's lips,

"I'm sure you would like that one. There are aliens and everything - tentacles, too. Just do your best to remember its not real."

There was a hesitation after Graverobber's statement, and Nathan turned around then. There was a long moment of silence as Nathan looked at the other man, his brow furrowed; his eyes dropped down to Graverobber's very naked and wet body, then back up to the man's face; he put his fists on his hips.

"You did what?" Nathan asked mildly, in a tone that suggested repeating the answer would be bad for Graverobber's health.
 
It wasn't working.

The whole stern, angry father look. Yeah, that wasn't working. Instead, it made Graverobber watch Nathan's face as his eyes dropped then went back up to his face, the scavenger's smile widening with every degree. He could practically hear what Nathan must be thinking, complete with the older man's voice (which, if he was a lesser man, might have made him shiver). He's not that stupid, would be first, then yes, he is. If Shilo saw him I'll kill him. Only much more creative and vindictive.

"Relax," he said, stepping close again so he could feel the warmth of a just showered body even through the doctor's clothes. "She didn't see me. I made sure of it. Figured you didn't want me pulling on my old clothes just yet." That wasn't a complete lie; after all, he was enjoying his cleanliness for awhile (though he would probably need to leave and roll in the mud to get it out of his system) and Nathan certainly seemed to prefer him not smelling. "I read War of the Worlds, by the way. I can read more than Dr. Suess and Captain Underpants."
 
The stern, angry father look failed to dissappear even when Graverobber stepped close again and he could feel the man's body heat; he continued to stare evenly at the scavenger, adjusting his glasses on his face as he did so,

"You're wearing a towel back to the room," he said firmly, "It's the 21st century but consider me stuck back in the era of censor bars. I want all the bits blocked out that wouldn't be allowed on television."

He waved a hand in a general south-ward direction to indicate precisely which bits he meant, even though he knew Graverobber was very, very aware of what he was referring to. He didn't want the man wandering nude around the house, not when Shilo could step out at any time and see him, it simply wasn't appropriate or - or proper.

His mind helpfully supplied that nothing they had done recently was appropriate and the remaining discomfort of his trousers was only a further reminder of that fact.

He raised an eyebrow at Graverobber then,

"Captain Underpants?" he repeated incredulously, reaching behind himself, hand patting around the counter until his fingers found a towel, and he brought it forward, pressing it up to Graverobber's stomach, his eyes drawing up to meet his again,

"I'll be sure to get you a few books, then." he said.
 
Graverobber took the towel with a giant, shit-eating grin. The material was soft in his hands, nice, probably even real cotton that felt cool and fluffy all at the same time. Nathan was well off but, for some reason, he could bring himself to think about being glad that he was sleeping with the doctor for all the cozy benefits.

"Doc," he cooed, squeezing his hair out in the towel and never breaking eye contact with Mr. Fuddy-Duddy Wallace. "I've had your naughty bits in my mouth. I look forward to having them in my mouth again. I also look forward to coming home and putting my naughty bits in your ass, preferably while you're bent over your table. Wandering around your place naked should be the least of your concerns." He draped the towel over his shoulder then leaned forward to press a quick, chaste kiss to Nathan's lips.

Nathan's fault, he reminded himself as he pulled away to smirk.

"No time to read. I'm behind as it is."

And with that, the scavenger turned around, whistling, to head out into the older man's proper home with an improper lack of clothing.
 
Nathan's features were stern at first, but his expression gradually shifted to a startled, gaping look as Graverobber spoke; even after the things they had done to eachother, the absolute - raunchiness - of the other man still managed to shock Nathan's more reserved sensibilities, as well as shocking other bits of him. The image entered his mind unbidden, of Graverobber behind him, pushing him down onto the table, baritone murmuring in his ear and - dear god, he was fantasizing and they were still in the same room; Nathan was sure it was just further proof that he was doomed.

He stared after Graverobber for a moment, frozen as he processed it all, and then he practically leapt out of the bathroom, scurrying around in front of the other man and holding up the towel that had been dropped, walking backwards in front of the other man,

"Look, you can't wander around like this," Nathan reasoned, doing his best to block the bits that he was positive needed to be censored, "Not because of me, if it were just me - well, that doesn't matter - Shilo might come out, and I really dont want her seeing -"

He gestured vaguely south,

"- you."
 
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