[Dodger lets out a gasping moan when Bigby's teeth dig into his neck, and the scent of fresh blood washes over him. It's something that's been surprisingly rare here, despite of all the rampant hedonism - the chance to get roughed up, to smell his own gasoline-tainted blood while he's being ravaged.
The thought occurs to him that he could get addicted to the older man's attentions, just the same as any of the drugs he relies on.
He's thankful they don't waste too much time on prepping him, and maybe it's just because of the claws. Mostly, it's just impatience. But there's a moment when the head of Bigby's cock presses against his hole, where Dodger tenses up instead of relaxing. His fingers dig into the older man's back, as memories flash into his mind of a different man doing this with him - someone larger, younger, someone Dodger thinks he's seen before in other flashes. A name is on the tip of his tongue, and then... it's gone.
He relaxes again, and blood starts dripping from his nose. Dodger raises a hand to try and block the flow, cursing under his breath.]
[ He hums with a low moan in his throat once he's inside Dodger, shifting slightly when a shudder runs through his whole body. Holding up the younger man's legs, he positions himself back on top, slowly grinding into him despite how tense the younger man feels. He's mindful of his pace at least, especially with Dodger's fingers digging into him, but fuck does it feel so good to be inside him all over again.
Then, the sudden smell of more blood hits him like no other. His eyes flick up, dilated, honed in. He goes still just as quick, not out of concern but something else inside him, desperate to jump out. Base instinct. Primal urges. His claws pierce into the other's legs until he can feel warm blood start to trickle down his hands, as if threatening to tear them apart entirely in an instant. Briefly, the corner of his mouth curls up in a snarl, only for Dodger's voice to bring him back down.
Bigby closes his eyes with a small wince, cock throbbing deep in the younger man, reminding him to keep going. There's no build up this time as he starts to thrust, harder, rougher, hungrier. Once he finds his rhythm again, he lets go of Dodger's legs, giving them leverage to wrap around Bigby's torso as he hovers close to his face. He stares down, drool and sweat — likely their own aphrodisiac thanks to his suit — dripping off him with every grunt.
Everything about this man drives him crazy, and despite the whirlwind of sensations all at once, he still needs more. He lowers his head, not for a kiss, but to lick up the blood on his face before going for his fingers, eager to suck on them until there's nothing left. ]
[Dodger barely has time to register how feral Bigby has gotten. He feels the claws piercing his legs, sees a flash of the hunger in the older man's eyes, and then his focus is entirely taken up by Bigby's cock pounding into him. And that is heavenly. A startled noise escapes him at the first thrust, but it melts afterward into loud, unashamed moans. Bigby is, after all, the only person here with enough strength to fuck Dodger as hard as he wants, and he's savoring every moment of it.
The lick to his face earns a huff of laughter, and he easily slides his fingers into Bigby's mouth to let him taste the blood on them. The thought occurs to him that he's probably playing with fire... playing with a feral beast, letting him taste Dodger's blood so often without letting him fully indulge. The thought sends a shiver through him, and a paradoxical pulse of heat that has his cock twitching between them.
Once he figures his fingers are probably licked clean, he pulls them back and cups Bigby's face, guiding him into a kiss that's equally hungry, and ended by a sharp nip to his bottom lip.]
[ How easily he could bite off the hand that feeds. Or at the very least, snap a finger off for himself, just as a treat. But that's all part of the thrill of it, isn't it? At any moment, when enough is enough and the restraints finally give way, he can lose himself all over again. The temptation, both exciting and horrifying, practically makes his hair stand on end. To think all it took was a bit of blood and a man willing to play the part of prey.
Before Dodger can pull his fingers back, Bigby's eyes widen, teeth clamping down with a low growl, hard enough to pierce and bruise, but just shy of breaking bone. It takes a lot for him to remember to let go, but when he does, he channels his frustration into the kiss. He's panting heavily going to it, and even more so when Dodger bites back when they break a part. Each thrust gets more forceful, his grunts becoming heavier, less human, each time he manages to go a little deeper. When his cock finally hits Dodger's prostrate, he grabs the younger man's hips to pull each other even closer. Bigby so desperately needs to release and fill this man with everything he has. ]
[Bigby isn't the only one thinking about it - there's a moment when he bites down, where Dodger gasps and stills his hand instinctively. Where his skin pulses with heat, and his cock twitches again. The kiss afterward is a relief, and he gets a bit of time to nearly get his thoughts straight before Bigby's cock slams into his prostate and his mind goes fully blank.
Dodger's hands move up to card his fingers through Bigby's hair, and scratch his scalp while each thrust draws desperate moans out of him. The heat under his skin is building faster than he wants it to but he's doing his best to control it, putting whatever mental energy is left into keeping himself safe to handle. It leaves him wonderfully, blissfully empty of thought, only really focusing on how good it feels to get dominated like this.]
[ Every time their bodies hit against each other, Bigby loses himself to the moment just a bit more. He growls as Dodger moans, the satisfaction of bringing him to this point touching on some deeply rooted desire he didn't even know he had anymore. There's so much of this man that he wants — his scent and his sounds, his body and his blood — that he can't bear to wait any longer. ]
I'm coming.
[ By all means a threat with the way he says it. He's entirely too overwhelmed by the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of Dodger, too warm and too tight for him not to reach his peak right then and there. If he weren't so hellbent on filling the younger man to the brim, maybe he'd have the restraint to hold back until Dodger finishes first, but right now, he's far too intoxicated on his own pleasure to think twice.
His hips shudder with one last, deep thrust forward, and his hands grip roughly onto Dodger to hold him steady. He snarls through grit teeth, sweat dripping off him as he leans forward to have every bit of his orgasm inside the younger man. Feeling his cum shoot up into Dodger is exhilarating, and the sudden release instantly sends a rush of heat up to his head. Though he starts to soften, he doesn't pull out just yet, instead rocking his hips as he catches his breath, focusing now on getting Dodger off next. ]
[The words register, and Dodger's instinctive reply comes through in between moans.]
Don't tell me, just- do it..!
[He lets out something akin to a whine when he feels Bigby filling him up, relatively cool against his rapidly rising heat. His fingers dig sharply into Bigby's back, and his skin flares with a dangerous amount of heat for just a moment before he shoots his load across both of their stomachs. It's inhumanly hot, enough to steam slightly before it starts to cool.
Dodger is left panting raggedly, and loosening his grip to instead nudge Bigby away from him.]
Fuck... back up, I might burn you once this wears off.
[ The fingers in his skin get a low groan, satisfied in spite of the intensity. He can handle it — take pleasure from it, even — but the heat radiating from the cum that lands on him gets a sharp hiss in response. Dodger doesn't need to tell him twice. ]
—fuck.
[ He actually winces from the burn, so there's no hesitation when he pulls himself out right after. A part of him wants to ask why Dodger can't control his own powers, but time and place, especially when his own dick is on the line right now. Not like he doesn't shift between forms when pushed hard enough.
Licking his lips, he works past the pain, moving back and off the bed to stand over Dodger. With a hard blink, he wipes the sweat off his forehead, feeling himself start to come down, though the more he looks at the younger man, the more he can't help but want seconds. He rolls his eyes at himself, needing to instead find a towel or something to clean up. His heart is still beating fast, breath shaky, but he's trying to focus on one thing at a time. ]
You, uh. I should... [ Again, he licks his lips, only to make himself glance away. ] There's a first aid kit somewhere, probably.
[Dodger has to take a few moments to catch his breath, before he can push himself into sitting up. Now that his wits are coming back to him... fuck, he's actually bleeding a lot. Maybe not enough to worry about his own safety, but enough that he should probably patch himself up before getting dressed.
The idea that the smell could be tempting Bigby doesn't quite occur to him, but... it's not far from his mind, either.]
If you point me toward it, I can clean up.
[He goes to get out of bed, and winces. Fuck... still drunk, still in pain, maybe not. Dodger lets out a huff, and flops back down.]
[ Bigby is ready to just motion toward the bathroom, if Dodger is going to be so insistent. Instead, he looks over as the younger man collapses back onto the bed. A quiet sigh follows in retort, and he runs a hand still stained red through his hair. Making his way to the bathroom himself, he rummages through the medicine cabinet for something that'll do. He comes back after a moment, though not without washing his hands first.
He pulls up a chair toward the bed, setting mostly everything down as he surveys the damage. What a mess. ]
I'm not a doctor, so if you want more whiskey, now's the time to speak up.
[ Putting a hand on Dodger's leg, he glances up at him to see if he might pull away, or just let him start the clean up with a soapy towel in hand. ]
And before you start, I know the basics of patching someone up.
[ Military experience, even if he is about forty years out of practice, but that's not the important part. ]
[He can't teleport safely when he's this drunk, and... he doesn't want to sleep here, for a variety of reasons.
Dodger stays still, though, grimacing a little when the towel passes over a scratch but otherwise just letting it happen.]
I'm used to mob doctors or doing it myself. As long as you don't fuck anything up, we're fine.
[Although that makes it sound a lot sketchier than it is, his uncle does at least have a medical license. He just also knows how to keep his mouth shut, which is why Dodger goes to him.]
... Sure. [ He almost sounds disappointed, but he’s not exactly surprised. ] I’m just gonna patch you up. Anything else, you’ll have to do later.
[ Bigby starts with his thighs, adding pressure where he can while dressing each wound. As he wraps the bandages, lifting and moving each leg as he needs to, he glances up at Dodger briefly, just to keep an eye out for any reactions. He’s out of practice with how slow he’s going, but it’s obvious this isn’t the first time he’s done it.
As for the claw marks further up, Bigby moves to stand over Dodger on the bed and apply patches of gauze where he can, occasionally blowing locks of hair out of his face. ]
You probably could just say doctor next time if you don’t want any questions. [ Not that he’s going to ask any right away. ] Gonna need you to sit up for the rest. I’ll keep you steady. [ He stretches out his free hand for Dodger to take, if he wants to make it a little easier for them both. ]
[He catches that hint of disappointment, but... decides to just ignore it. He can't stay here, even if he wanted to.
Dodger moves easily as directed, even if he winces very so often. It hurts, it's starting to hurt more as the adrenaline leaves his body, but he can compartmentalize the pain well enough and just keep trucking. It's fine, far from the worst thing he's experienced.]
What are you, a cop? [He shrugs slightly, but takes Bigby's hand to steady himself while he sits up.] I'm not exactly hiding what kind of person I am.
[Although he's still getting used to the fact that people don't automatically assume he's a criminal as soon as he uses his powers. That's... never been the case, before coming here.]
[ He rolls his eyes, expression flattening into something far more deadpan. No point in humoring that with an actual answer to that. ]
Right. [ When the younger man sits up, Bigby moves his hand against Dodger's back next. ] Is that why you've said two words about yourself since we've met?
[ It doesn't matter, and he doesn't really know why that bothers him as much as it does, but he leaves it at that. Back to focusing on the wounds, he leans a bit closer, head tilting to look over the mark on the other's neck. Bigby should get to dressing it but something else compels first.
His hand slides up to the nape of Dodger's neck, holding it in place as he presses his lips against the gash. While he laps up more blood, the way his tongue moves is noticeably different than before. Gentle. Tender. Like caring for a packmate than tasting a meal. When he pulls back, he carries on, saying nothing. ]
Keep this arm up.
[ The hand at Dodger's neck moves to lift it before he unrolls more gauze, starting at the wound and looping around under said arm a few times until eventually tying it off. ]
[Dodger averts his gaze, suddenly finding some spot on the floor very interesting. He does think to argue that the scars and tattoos should make it pretty obvious he's shady, even if the powers don't mean anything to Bigby. But he's distracted by the lips on his neck, and he mindlessly tips his head to give Bigby better access. It's... soft, intimate in a way he's not really sure what to do with, but he likes it. And his face ends up turning red by the time Bigby pulls back.]
...Yeah. Sure.
[He lifts his arm obediently, although his gaze stays locked on the floor. He's just... biding his time, until he can go back to his suite and stop thinking about this.]
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The thought occurs to him that he could get addicted to the older man's attentions, just the same as any of the drugs he relies on.
He's thankful they don't waste too much time on prepping him, and maybe it's just because of the claws. Mostly, it's just impatience. But there's a moment when the head of Bigby's cock presses against his hole, where Dodger tenses up instead of relaxing. His fingers dig into the older man's back, as memories flash into his mind of a different man doing this with him - someone larger, younger, someone Dodger thinks he's seen before in other flashes. A name is on the tip of his tongue, and then... it's gone.
He relaxes again, and blood starts dripping from his nose. Dodger raises a hand to try and block the flow, cursing under his breath.]
Fuck... don't stop. I'm fine, just keep going.
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Then, the sudden smell of more blood hits him like no other. His eyes flick up, dilated, honed in. He goes still just as quick, not out of concern but something else inside him, desperate to jump out. Base instinct. Primal urges. His claws pierce into the other's legs until he can feel warm blood start to trickle down his hands, as if threatening to tear them apart entirely in an instant. Briefly, the corner of his mouth curls up in a snarl, only for Dodger's voice to bring him back down.
Bigby closes his eyes with a small wince, cock throbbing deep in the younger man, reminding him to keep going. There's no build up this time as he starts to thrust, harder, rougher, hungrier. Once he finds his rhythm again, he lets go of Dodger's legs, giving them leverage to wrap around Bigby's torso as he hovers close to his face. He stares down, drool and sweat — likely their own aphrodisiac thanks to his suit — dripping off him with every grunt.
Everything about this man drives him crazy, and despite the whirlwind of sensations all at once, he still needs more. He lowers his head, not for a kiss, but to lick up the blood on his face before going for his fingers, eager to suck on them until there's nothing left. ]
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The lick to his face earns a huff of laughter, and he easily slides his fingers into Bigby's mouth to let him taste the blood on them. The thought occurs to him that he's probably playing with fire... playing with a feral beast, letting him taste Dodger's blood so often without letting him fully indulge. The thought sends a shiver through him, and a paradoxical pulse of heat that has his cock twitching between them.
Once he figures his fingers are probably licked clean, he pulls them back and cups Bigby's face, guiding him into a kiss that's equally hungry, and ended by a sharp nip to his bottom lip.]
Harder. Give me bruises.
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Before Dodger can pull his fingers back, Bigby's eyes widen, teeth clamping down with a low growl, hard enough to pierce and bruise, but just shy of breaking bone. It takes a lot for him to remember to let go, but when he does, he channels his frustration into the kiss. He's panting heavily going to it, and even more so when Dodger bites back when they break a part. Each thrust gets more forceful, his grunts becoming heavier, less human, each time he manages to go a little deeper. When his cock finally hits Dodger's prostrate, he grabs the younger man's hips to pull each other even closer. Bigby so desperately needs to release and fill this man with everything he has. ]
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Dodger's hands move up to card his fingers through Bigby's hair, and scratch his scalp while each thrust draws desperate moans out of him. The heat under his skin is building faster than he wants it to but he's doing his best to control it, putting whatever mental energy is left into keeping himself safe to handle. It leaves him wonderfully, blissfully empty of thought, only really focusing on how good it feels to get dominated like this.]
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I'm coming.
[ By all means a threat with the way he says it. He's entirely too overwhelmed by the sensation of his cock pulsing inside of Dodger, too warm and too tight for him not to reach his peak right then and there. If he weren't so hellbent on filling the younger man to the brim, maybe he'd have the restraint to hold back until Dodger finishes first, but right now, he's far too intoxicated on his own pleasure to think twice.
His hips shudder with one last, deep thrust forward, and his hands grip roughly onto Dodger to hold him steady. He snarls through grit teeth, sweat dripping off him as he leans forward to have every bit of his orgasm inside the younger man. Feeling his cum shoot up into Dodger is exhilarating, and the sudden release instantly sends a rush of heat up to his head. Though he starts to soften, he doesn't pull out just yet, instead rocking his hips as he catches his breath, focusing now on getting Dodger off next. ]
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Don't tell me, just- do it..!
[He lets out something akin to a whine when he feels Bigby filling him up, relatively cool against his rapidly rising heat. His fingers dig sharply into Bigby's back, and his skin flares with a dangerous amount of heat for just a moment before he shoots his load across both of their stomachs. It's inhumanly hot, enough to steam slightly before it starts to cool.
Dodger is left panting raggedly, and loosening his grip to instead nudge Bigby away from him.]
Fuck... back up, I might burn you once this wears off.
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—fuck.
[ He actually winces from the burn, so there's no hesitation when he pulls himself out right after. A part of him wants to ask why Dodger can't control his own powers, but time and place, especially when his own dick is on the line right now. Not like he doesn't shift between forms when pushed hard enough.
Licking his lips, he works past the pain, moving back and off the bed to stand over Dodger. With a hard blink, he wipes the sweat off his forehead, feeling himself start to come down, though the more he looks at the younger man, the more he can't help but want seconds. He rolls his eyes at himself, needing to instead find a towel or something to clean up. His heart is still beating fast, breath shaky, but he's trying to focus on one thing at a time. ]
You, uh. I should... [ Again, he licks his lips, only to make himself glance away. ] There's a first aid kit somewhere, probably.
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The idea that the smell could be tempting Bigby doesn't quite occur to him, but... it's not far from his mind, either.]
If you point me toward it, I can clean up.
[He goes to get out of bed, and winces. Fuck... still drunk, still in pain, maybe not. Dodger lets out a huff, and flops back down.]
Nevermind. Maybe just bring it over here.
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He pulls up a chair toward the bed, setting mostly everything down as he surveys the damage. What a mess. ]
I'm not a doctor, so if you want more whiskey, now's the time to speak up.
[ Putting a hand on Dodger's leg, he glances up at him to see if he might pull away, or just let him start the clean up with a soapy towel in hand. ]
And before you start, I know the basics of patching someone up.
[ Military experience, even if he is about forty years out of practice, but that's not the important part. ]
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[He can't teleport safely when he's this drunk, and... he doesn't want to sleep here, for a variety of reasons.
Dodger stays still, though, grimacing a little when the towel passes over a scratch but otherwise just letting it happen.]
I'm used to mob doctors or doing it myself. As long as you don't fuck anything up, we're fine.
[Although that makes it sound a lot sketchier than it is, his uncle does at least have a medical license. He just also knows how to keep his mouth shut, which is why Dodger goes to him.]
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[ Bigby starts with his thighs, adding pressure where he can while dressing each wound. As he wraps the bandages, lifting and moving each leg as he needs to, he glances up at Dodger briefly, just to keep an eye out for any reactions. He’s out of practice with how slow he’s going, but it’s obvious this isn’t the first time he’s done it.
As for the claw marks further up, Bigby moves to stand over Dodger on the bed and apply patches of gauze where he can, occasionally blowing locks of hair out of his face. ]
You probably could just say doctor next time if you don’t want any questions. [ Not that he’s going to ask any right away. ] Gonna need you to sit up for the rest. I’ll keep you steady. [ He stretches out his free hand for Dodger to take, if he wants to make it a little easier for them both. ]
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Dodger moves easily as directed, even if he winces very so often. It hurts, it's starting to hurt more as the adrenaline leaves his body, but he can compartmentalize the pain well enough and just keep trucking. It's fine, far from the worst thing he's experienced.]
What are you, a cop? [He shrugs slightly, but takes Bigby's hand to steady himself while he sits up.] I'm not exactly hiding what kind of person I am.
[Although he's still getting used to the fact that people don't automatically assume he's a criminal as soon as he uses his powers. That's... never been the case, before coming here.]
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Right. [ When the younger man sits up, Bigby moves his hand against Dodger's back next. ] Is that why you've said two words about yourself since we've met?
[ It doesn't matter, and he doesn't really know why that bothers him as much as it does, but he leaves it at that. Back to focusing on the wounds, he leans a bit closer, head tilting to look over the mark on the other's neck. Bigby should get to dressing it but something else compels first.
His hand slides up to the nape of Dodger's neck, holding it in place as he presses his lips against the gash. While he laps up more blood, the way his tongue moves is noticeably different than before. Gentle. Tender. Like caring for a packmate than tasting a meal. When he pulls back, he carries on, saying nothing. ]
Keep this arm up.
[ The hand at Dodger's neck moves to lift it before he unrolls more gauze, starting at the wound and looping around under said arm a few times until eventually tying it off. ]
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...Yeah. Sure.
[He lifts his arm obediently, although his gaze stays locked on the floor. He's just... biding his time, until he can go back to his suite and stop thinking about this.]