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Elliott ran his hand through Niko’s hair lovingly, then down his chest and stomach.

“You’re being so good for me,” he murmured, and Niko’s insides felt like melted honey.

Then Elliott poured a few drops of lubrication into his palm and began gently stroking Niko’s cock in an achingly slow rhythm. Niko grunted, turning his face away.

Elliott could do whatever he wanted to him now, use him however he wanted. It was agonizing, overwhelming. Absolutely delicious.

“Niko. Look at me.”

Niko forced himself to look back at Elliott as he worked him with his hand. “I want you to look at me the whole time. Only me.”

Niko swallowed. “O-okay.”

“Okay.” Elliott squeezed another generous helping of lube into his hand, then applied it to Niko’s opening.

Just the touch of him alone was euphoric.

He slid his fingers inside him. Niko knew he was tense, wound up by the handcuffs.

He forced himself to take a few breaths in and out, then relaxed his body. He wanted it badly.

Elliott smirked at him. “You’re all ready for me, aren’t you?”

“Mmh. Yeah.”

“So perfect, Niko.”

He positioned himself over Niko. The very anticipation of the other man penetrating him drove Niko wild.

He didn’t care what Elliott did to him at this point.

He just wanted— needed —to be touched. Elliott took hold of Niko’s legs, pushing them up and holding them against himself.

Then he entered, still fully clothed, except for his cock.

Niko felt every inch of him, and a long, pleasured sound escaped from between his lips that made him flush with shame.

He hardly recognized himself.

Once he was fully buried within Niko, Elliott paused for a moment to let them both adjust. Then he began moving, sliding in and out of him in a torturous, leisurely rhythm. He was taking his time. He looked at Niko, locking gazes, his own gorgeous eyes half-lidded, given to indulgence.

Niko fought himself. He clamped down on asking. He would do anything but beg him. But as the moments passed, Elliott kept his slow, gentle cadence within him, reaching out occasionally to trail his fingertips along Niko’s needy cock, before letting them drop again.

Niko knew what Elliott was doing. He found himself speaking regardless, before he could think to take it back. “El-Elliott.”

“Mmh? What's that, Niko?”

“I—I need you to fuck me harder than that. I need it.”

“Then why don't you ask me?”

Niko couldn't even be mad about it anymore. It all fed into something extravagant inside him. Something he never knew he'd needed. Now that it was here, he craved it like air. He liked that he had to ask. “Can— Will you please fuck me hard? I need you to, Elliott. Please. Will you let me feel you?”

Elliott smiled at him, his eyes narrowed and clever as a fox.

He leaned forward and gave Niko’s neck a long, indulgent kiss that turned into sucking and lapping, still fucking into him slowly all the while.

Niko realized Elliott was the one marking him this time.

Then he moved to hover inches above Niko, his breath warm against his skin.

He leaned down and met him in a long kiss, tongue against tongue, his hand reaching up to touch Niko’s chin.

Niko wished he could pull him down into a possessive embrace, to hold Elliott’s body against his own.

Elliott smiled at him again. He closed his eyes and nuzzled his cheek affectionately, then whispered so quietly it gave Niko goosebumps, “ Since you asked me so sweetly, I'll give you what you want.”

He leaned back, taking hold of Niko’s legs again, then began railing him—fast and hard, rough and wild now. Desperate and so, so hungry, not unlike he’d been when taking Niko’s mouth. It was sloppy. He was giving Niko everything he was worth.

It hurt, and it felt extraordinary. It was everything Niko wanted. In that moment, he knew it, and couldn't deny it. Elliott fucked him so hard that his blond hair dampened with sweat from the effort.

Niko’s whole body shook with each hard thrust. He was left with nothing to do but take it.

The inability to touch Elliott, to touch himself, to respond in any way only drove Niko to a deeper, wilder delirium.

He couldn’t help himself. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back until it touched the floor, his neck arching.

He was emitting sounds now unlike he knew he was even capable of, something akin to agony—half whimpering, half moaning. His entire body was on fire with feeling, with vibrant life. He felt Elliott everywhere, in every part of him, every cell.

Elliott’s soft moaning soon joined his own loud cries. With his eyes closed, fully under the control and will of Elliott, he fell into an almost meditative experience. It was something transcendent.

“Niko,” Elliott panted out. He didn’t stop in relentlessly fucking him. When Niko didn’t immediately respond, eyes wrenched shut, he tried again, insistent, commanding. “ Niko .”

“Mmh— What?”

“Open your eyes and look at me. I want you to see who’s doing this to you.”

It was hard, but he finally forced his eyes open and turned his gaze toward Elliott.

The other man was completely flushed now, golden hair hanging in his face.

Sweat trickled down his cheek. He gripped Niko’s legs tightly, digging his fingers in as he pushed his knees up into a bend, fucking into him hard again and again and again.

He locked gazes with Niko as he did. “Who’s fucking you good, lover? Who's taking care of you?”

It was hard to formulate words. Niko had forgotten what they even were, had discarded them somewhere along the way, with all the other unnecessary things. “Y-you are, Elliott.”

More words surfaced then, something from deep inside him, something thoughtless. He didn’t have to ask, didn’t have to beg for this. But he wanted to, now.

He wanted Elliott to grant it to him.

“Please, Elliott. Can… Can I come?”

That earned a particularly indulgent moan and shiver from Elliott. He seemed to like that very, very much. Niko thought the other man just might lose himself then and there from what he'd asked.

Elliott's voice emerged breathless now. “Let go for me, Niko. Show me how much you like my cock.”

“Not just.” Thoughts floated hazily through Niko's mind. “You, Elliott. All of you.”

He could do nothing but oblige, too lost now.

Niko felt it everywhere, something uncontrollable and inevitable, an electric riptide mounting and coalescing in his lower belly, in his balls, begging for release.

When it came, he cried out again, the sound unlike anything he’d heard come from himself.

It was filthy. He sounded like he was dying. Maybe he was.

Elliott emitted a low, breathy moan as well, his thrusts turning more erratic until he pulled out. He knelt over Niko, finishing himself by hand. Niko longed to help, his handcuff chain clanking against the utility pipe as he strained thoughtlessly to reach for him.

“You were so good for me today. Such excellent service,” Elliott panted out, “deserves a reward. Don’t you think?”

He came on Niko’s face. Niko let out a low groan as one last whisper of pleasure rippled through him from the sheer thrill of it.

He was spent after that, his body exhausted.

Every nerve glowed, swimming in a sea of ephemeral bliss, his mind eviscerated and emptied.

That’s one way for an assassin to finish you.

The thought came randomly, nonsensical. Niko gave a single, tired huff of a laugh.

Don’t bougie people call it the little death, or something?

He lay on the floor, trying to catch his breath, the warm sensation of Elliott’s come still dripping down his cheek and chin.

A whispering mantra repeated through his mind in time with the pulse that hammered in his ears, perhaps indistinguishable from it.

Elliott, Elliott, Elliott.

“Here,” Elliott murmured, his voice just as breathless sounding. He hastily took the small key meant for the handcuffs from his pocket and unlocked them, setting Niko free. Niko was grateful, massaging his wrists, taking the opportunity to flex and move his arms and test his regained freedom.

Then Elliott got up and went back to the locker, and quickly wiped himself clean with a rag before tucking himself away back in his pants. He made his way back to Niko and knelt beside him, gently wiping his face and body clean for him. Niko was exhausted, too tired to even sit up.

Elliott smiled down at him, warmly. “How was it? Are you alright, Niko?”

“I—I don’t even know what to say,” he started, mind still lost somewhere, but then realized that wasn’t at all a satisfying answer, and that Elliott might perceive it as him not being fully okay.

In truth, he felt euphoric. High. He was stuck on the metal floor, yet he was flying.

“I’m alright. I’m… more than alright. I’ve never experienced something like that.

Fuck. It was— It was incredible. I can’t even move.

I’ve never felt like that with another person.

I’ve never felt like this before.” He laughed at himself a little mockingly, flushing as the familiar shame crept back in at the memory of his own pleading mewls that had emerged so unlike him.

“Good,” Elliott said. “I know what my good boy likes.” He bent and kissed Niko chastely on the cheek, smiling at him again. Even now, the words sent another electric buzz trilling through Niko. “Here. Let me help you.” He extended a hand to pull him up.

Niko groaned. He closed his eyes and turned his head away. “Do I have to? Can I just lay here for the next… seven or so hours?” He felt like he was going to need days, maybe weeks, to recover from whatever the hell had just happened to him.

“I mean, if that’s your preference, you’re welcome to. But I don’t think it’s going to be very comfortable.”

Niko grunted, draping his arm across his face, ready to settle in for the long haul. This is my life now, I guess.