Archive of Our Own

Between his job and his restless mind, Nathan Wallace had spent many hours roaming the streets and alleys of Sanitarium Island. He had come to know many of her citizens, respectable or otherwise, by face if not by name. He didn't want to know them better - today's acquaintance could be tomorrow's client, after all, and it was always awkward repossessing someone you knew.

The long-haired young man was an inhabitant of alleys. Nathan didn't know his name, but he'd caught his eye before. Feral and pretty, somehow apart from the slums he called home, he seemed to roam streets and graveyards with equal aplomb. Tonight Nathan had stepped from Marni's crypt to find him kneeling in a nearby tomb, bent over the occupant. Not ten feet away hung a sign advising that graverobbers would be shot on sight. His duty was clear, the Genecops a button-press away.

He looked up, and Nathan was startled by how young he looked, how fragile somehow, clinging to his liminal existence. "Gonna call the 'cops?" he asked. His voice was much deeper than Nathan had expected.

"I won't, on one condition," he said, surprising himself. His duty was clear, but it seemed a shame.

"What's that?" he asked, selecting a tool from the unrolled kit balanced on the edge of the tomb. Either he didn't see Nathan as a threat, or he was resigned enough to his fate to keep working.

"This is my wife's tomb." He lay a hand on the smooth stone behind him. "I want your word that you will never - molest - her, and you can work this graveyard in peace."

The graverobber finished extracting Zydrate from the corpse before he answered, returning the Zyringe to the kit and hopping to the ground. "Deal," he said, offering a slim strong hand.

Nathan took it and they shook, an odd ritual of civility. "I'm Nathan Wallace," he said, "and this is Marni."

"They call me Graverobber," he replied.

"Not so much a name as a job description."

He shrugged. "I don't have another one."

Nathan might have blamed the other one for inviting Graverobber back to the house, but it was most decidedly Nathan himself who was making grilled cheese sandwiches for his strange guest. The boy ate like he hadn't seen food in days. Nathan couldn't figure out how old he was; his height and deep voice contrasted his face and appetite to leave an almost charming ambiguity. Old enough to be out on his own, he supposed. Old enough to know what he's doing, he added, after the sandwiches were gone and they both stood in an awkward silence, unsure of the next word, the next step.

"I don't want anything for the food," he was starting to say, when Graverobber kissed him, lashes so long they stroked across Nathan's own cheek as their lips pressed together. He had a split second - Marni - where he almost pushed him away, but the dark voice gave him a metaphorical shove in Graverobber's direction, and it was too late. He wouldn't take him upstairs, where Marni was waiting Shilo was sleeping; he took him by the hand and drew him into the workroom, where he kept a narrow single bed for nights when he was too tired to climb the stairs. He wasn't equipped for this - wasn't really inclined toward it, despite a few youthful indiscretions - but Graverobber pulled a bottle out of his pocket, and Nathan understood.

"You don't -" he started to say, but Graverobber just smirked and kissed him again, leaving him gasping in the aftermath and needing more. He hoped the sudden desparation wouldn't frighten the other man as he tore at their clothes. He shoved the Other back - he wanted this boy for himself; didn't want to hurt him - didn't want to share him. Graverobber responded with equal fervor, matching passion with passion, until both of them were panting and naked, pressed hard against one another as he dragged Nathan down to the bed. Nathan hardly had a minute to process what was going to happen when Graverobber's slick fingers pressed against his entrance. When did I lose control of this? he wondered, but it didn't matter, nothing mattered but the sensation of being opened, stretched, filled, and it had been so. damned. long. and oh. "Oh God," he whispered, arching up.

"You like that?" he asked.

"Yes," Nathan gasped, trying to make his eyes focus. "I - I'm not - I don't - oh, yes, do - that. Again." The thoughts were barely connected, spilling together in a warm mass somewhere near his core.

"What, this?" The accompanying chuckle was a deep rumble against his skin, making him harder, if it was possible.

"Ohhh. Yes."

He knew where it was going, what the loss of control meant, wanted it somehow. It wasn't something the Other would put up with, which made Nathan crave it all the more, even from this deep-voiced graverobber with the wonderful hands. The hand slid out of him, and he whimpered with its loss. Graverobber leaned over him, arching an eyebrow in courteous inquiry. "Please," he moaned, moving to his knees.

Shifting, rustling, and something larger and thicker than the fingers was pushing against him, sliding into him. He cried out in mingled pleasure and pain at the intrusion, the familiar-strange sensation. It had been a very long time since - Luigi - anyone had done this to him. Nathan groaned, stuttered half-syllables, writhed, and Graverobber met him stroke for stroke, building a rhythm of gasps and groans and panting breaths.

Graverobber reached around and took him in hand, and Nathan shivered from the touch, whimpering, bucking into it, knowing he couldn't make this last, not when he was being touched like that, not when he was being filled and held and - he closed his eyes with the intensity of it, heard his climax hit the sheets below. The other man grunted, shuddering.

Nathan collapsed, unable to support his own weight. Graverobber dropped with him, a warm weight that was not unpleasant. They lay there for a few minutes, Graverobber's breath hot on the back of Nathan's neck, before the other man pulled himself up, leaving Nathan feeling suddenly chilled and exposed. What did I just do? he asked himself, shivering. I just invited a nameless stranger into my home and had sex with him! What if something happened? What if he - The Other's dark chuckle interrupted his panicked mental flailing. He didn't answer in words, just a sense of blood and the cool feel of a scalpel in hand. He heard Graverobber dressing, knew he should do the same, couldn't quite bring himself to look at his - his what? Hookup, he supposed was the closest. He'd started this by introducing Graverobber to his wife - what would Marni say if she could see him? How far he'd fallen from her sweet embrace.

Nathan stood up, trying not to show his distress, and pulled up his pants. He didn't know what to say or how to say it, but the other man merely gave him a cheerful smirk and an elaborate bow. "I'll see myself out," he said, and headed down the tunnel.

- Fin -