It's around that time again. It happens every other day and, even though Will should be used to it by now, he can't shake the way it dehumanizes him. It's usually around five o'clock, or so it has been explained to him, when an orderly and a guard comes by his cell to slap on his cuffs and retrieve him from his cage, but today was different. Will has grown accustomed to a certain routine in this place, it's the only thing he has really, but it was only now did it ever break in it's rhythm.
Five o'clock rolls around, whatever that time feels like to Will, and Will is met with an out of place presence, a deviation in routine. It isn't the regular orderly who comes to take him away, nor is there a guard's supervision present. Will puzzles at this for a moment, scrunching his eyebrows at the person beyond the bars of his quaint little cell.
It was the young, thin-lipped orderly that occasionally escorted Will to his visitors and brought him his food. While the face was plenty familiar, the name, however, escaped him. Though, Will was sure the man had given his name at least once before, Matthew or something of the like. After all, he had professed his admiration of the crimes Will allegedly committed. The sight of him was oddly welcomed in it's affinity, but perhaps somewhat unsettling.
Will didn't do too well with fans, especially ones with obsessive tendencies like this particular employee of the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. It also didn't help that Will was being praised for all the wrong reasons and for things he hadn't done. He never took credit for any of it, yet here was this young man staring at him in awe like he was a God amongst insects.
"Are you ready, Mr. Graham?" Matthew asks rhetorically. He's going to have to come with Matthew one way or another.
"I have a visitor?" Will inquires, feigning ignorance even when he already has an idea of what this is.
"Don't be silly," Matthew chides with a brief chuckle to simulate some vague form of friendship. "It's your bath time, remember?"
"No guard?" Will presses, still suspicious of the lack of security.
"Just you and me," Matthew replies, showing off his thin smile as he jingles his set of keys.
Matthew is standing on the other side of the cell, beaming and radiating true giddiness at the fact that he has Will Graham to himself, if only for a short window of time. Matthew makes a gesture, jerking his head as if to coax Will over and Will complies after brief hesitancy. He raises from his bed, if you can call it that, and takes a few steps towards the bars slowly, gauging Matthew's body language.
Self-confidence, dominance, arrogance, lust, and quite possibly a rudimentary form of vanity. It's almost too much to take in all at once.
Will comes to a stop when he's close enough to the cell door and stares at Matthew with an indifferent expression, like a child waiting for instruction. Matthew still looks quite satisfied with whatever strings he had to pull to be here and gazes back at Will momentarily before commanding him to turn around with the twirl of a finger. Will rolls his eyes subtly at this but does as he's told anyway.
He didn't like playing games he could never hope to win at. Will also hated feeling powerless in a world that seemed so one-sided, forcing him to fight alone. In any case, all Will can do now is turn around, put his hands behind his back, and press up against the bars so Matthew can slap handcuffs on him. Follow their orders, stay in routine, and blend into this solitary ecosystem he now found himself in.
Just submit completely.
Matthew reaches through the bars with a pair of handcuffs and, as always, fastens them around Will's wrists, taking great care to be gentle and make them somewhat loose fitting. Will figured there was an upside to having Matthew as an admirer, seeing as how he cared about his well-being and comfort. Which is more than he can say about most of the people here.
Still, something didn't settle quite right in the pit of Will's stomach. Matthew was resourceful and intelligent and no amount of denial could convince Will that this encounter is a coincidence. Matthew is here because he wants to be here. He is a part of this well-oiled machine and he knows exactly which cogs to jam in order to get his way. He's proved this once already by disabling the wires Chilton used to spy on him.
Will's cell door swings open, prompting him to turn around when Matthew grabs him just under the tricep. Matthew beckons Will along the corridor at a reasonable pace. One that doesn't push urgency, but nothing too patient either. Will notices but doesn't comment on it, instead he is far more interested in this not-so chance encounter.
"Where is McAllister?" Will starts, initiating a conversation that would be too good for Matthew to pass up on. "He's the one who usually does this."
"He took a little spill down the stairs in the main hall," Matthew responds without fail, holding back the obvious pride leaking through his words. "I hear he's going to be out for a while."
"Very unfortunate for him, but otherwise good news for you. Awfully convenient for you to be assigned the dubious task of cleaning up after me," Will poses, making an assessment out loud to get it straight in his head.
"I personally volunteered when the position opened up unexpectedly," Matthew says coolly, leading Will further down corridors. "Not many people are so eager or brave to escort the Chesapeake Ripper with minimal security. Or none at all, in this case."
"But you are," Will points out more than asks, because he doesn't have to.
He knows Matthew is eager to be on the same level as him and it's not so much as a question of bravery, but one of trust. Matthew knows what Will is allegedly capable of and Will is aware that Matthew has murdered someone just to impress him. There was no doubt in Will's mind that he could depend on Matthew, as it were.
They reach the shower room shortly thereafter and Matthew goes to unlock Will's hands out from behind his back. Matthew leaves Will for a moment to lock the door behind them. Will watches him, sensing no hesitation in the way Matthew is confident enough to turn his back on someone who is potentially a murderer. Matthew isn't being willfully careless so much as demonstrating a balance of understanding and equality.
They are, after all, in the same place. Both physically and mentally in the sense that they are outcasted and often misunderstood by their peers while forced to be in a state of oppression. Will never thought he'd ever be comparing himself to someone like Matthew, but the orderly had been right. They were hawks. Weak on their own, but together they were a force to be reckoned with.
"You know the drill," Matthew says, giving Will his cue to undress. Will hesitates a moment too long, making Matthew walk up to him tediously. "Unless you're too shy to do it yourself."
Will scoffs at Matthew's overt flirtation and steps away before turning his back to the young man. Will bends down and pulls the velcro straps back so he can kick off his shoes, then proceeds to undo the front of his jumpsuit. It slides off his shoulders and immediately falls to the ground to pool around his feet.
Just then, Matthew steps around Will and starts to circle him casually, jingling the keys he still carries in his left hand. He doesn't stalk around Will like he's a prey but rather a potential mate, eying him up and down unabashed as Will squirms under the scrutiny. Will tries his best to remain neutral about the matter.
Next to go is the plain grey undershirt, extending over his head until pulling free from his body. Will piles it with his shoes and jumpsuit as an after thought when he comes to rest his hands on the elastic waistband of his boxers. Will pauses the second Matthew stops directly in front of him, leaving his thumbs hooked in the waistband.
"Underwear too, Mr. Graham," Matthew supplies, reminding Will of the more basic regulations.
Will isn't sure why he's so vain all of a sudden, but he figures it has something to do with maintaining some sort of reputation. What if he doesn't possess a certain physique Matthew had come to expect about the Ripper? And if so, would it really change anything? Why did Matthew's infatuation matter so much to him? Did he really benefit from having Matthew on his side? Perhaps...
Either way, it ultimately couldn't be avoided. It was mandatory for all patients and inmates alike to strip down completely and take a bath, otherwise they'd be sedated. Will grabs the band and slowly pushes down his boxers, bending down all the way before standing up straight once again. He stands before Matthew in all his naked glory, not bothering to cover himself.
The orderly takes in the sight of Will's body, covering his mouth in silent praise much like he did the day he told Will about the bailiff. His expression flutters into wonder and awe, whether exaggerated or not, making Will blush just a little bit. Matthew steps forward slightly, getting a closer look to mesmerize each inch of him.
"Wow, Mr. Graham, I must say that you look absolutely exquisite in these harsh fluorescents," Matthew proclaims in awe, sighing with content as he places a hand over his own heart. "Average, sure, but you definitely stay fit in the places it matters."
This statement causes Will to flush bodily because it's coupled with a longing gaze down the expanse of his abdomen and further below. Matthew walks around Will after he's thoroughly pocketed the mental image of his front, only to move onto the back. Matthew marvels at the shoulder blades tensing elegantly under smooth skin and muscle.
The knots of Will's spine are faintly visible and Matthew counts each vertebrae all the way down to his tailbone, coming to rest his gaze on the curve of Will's impressive form. Matthew has to resist the urge to touch Will now, but holds back for the time being. He has something else in mind.
"I can't believe something as beautiful as you is able to hide in plain sight. You're perfect," Matthew praises, meaning every word. "Absolutely flawless in the camouflage you assume."
"I don't need camouflage," Will speaks up, feeling Matthew's eyes rake all over him. "I have nothing to hide."
"Not anymore at least," Matthew jests, smirking. He trots over to the bathtub prepared specially for Will and splashes the water a few times, grinning hopefully at Will. "The water is still hot. I made sure to fill it with fresh water too."
"That's considerate of you," Will remarks, making his way over to the tub.
Will steps into the tub and slowly sinks into the warm water, feeling all the aches ebb away in his muscles as the heat lulls him. It isn't big enough for him to fit his body in entirely, seeing as how he has to bend his legs to the point where his knees poke out of the water, but it's comfortable enough.
There is a metal ring on the rim of the tub where a handcuff loop can secure people to the porcelain structure, ensuring their security. One hand is to be handcuffed to it while people are given a free hand to wash. Oddly enough, Will has grown accustomed to washing one-handed.
"Hold out your right arm," Matthew says, enforcing the regulation even when they have privacy.
Will extends his arm towards the metal ring and lets Matthew slip the cuffs back on him to anchor Will to the tub. They lock into place comfortably but Matthew gives them one little yank to make sure they are secure enough. Even though they're in private, Matthew continues to act accordingly to certain guidelines. Most likely a force of habit due to routine.
Matthew takes a moment to walk across the room to retrieve the sponge and soap necessary to scrub the grime away from Will's body. When he comes back Will reaches out with his free hand, expecting them to be handed to him but lets his arm drop when Matthew doesn't acknowledge him. Matthew walks around to the side of the tub and kneels down.
Instead of handing Will the sponge, Matthew sets the items down and sheds his white coat. Matthew picks up the sponge to dunk it in the bath water, making Will shy away just slightly when Matthew's hand dips down almost too far. Matthew proceeds to lather up the wet sponge with soap and Will thinks that the orderly is simply helping him, but that isn't the case.
Matthew inches closer to the rim of the tub, bracing one hand on the porcelain behind Will as he goes to press the sudsy sponge against Will's chest. This time Will flinches, going so far as to even swat Matthew's hand away just marginally. Will stares up at Matthew, who only gives him a passive once over.
"I'm perfectly capable of washing myself," Will indicates, arguing his last real right he has left.
"I know you are. You're capable of many things, Mr. Graham," Matthew concurs full-heartedly, adjusting his squatting stance to get closer to Will. "But you don't have to do anything when you're with me. I'd be more than honored to do this for you."
Will couldn't think of a way to respond to that so he remains silent, staring at Matthew until letting his eyes drift straight ahead of him. Matthew hums, smirking even, and figures that's Will's way of giving his permission for him to wash his would-be idol. Will was perplexed by the notion but he allowed it, if just this once.
He shifts and slides behind Will so that he's out of sight, but still undoubtedly there. Will's body shudders slightly when he feels Matthew place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently and absently running his thumb over his warm skin. Matthew's other hand presses the sponge to Will's back and begins to slowly scrub the tense muscles.
"You need to relax," Matthew murmurs into Will's ear, dipping his hand down to wet the sponge some more.
Will leans back into the contact, letting himself appreciate the soft and soothing graze of the sponge as much as possible. He's trying to relax the best he can, but it's somewhat hard when he's locked up in a place like this. Matthew brushes the sponge down the length of Will's spine, admiring the way the bubbles run down his smooth skin.
Matthew takes this moment to wrap an arm around towards Will's front, slipping his hand down into the water casually. Will tries to lean away but ends up pressing against the edge of the tub with Matthew's knuckles grazing his waistline. Matthew hums with amusement at Will's jumpiness.
"You're way too wound up, Mr. Graham," Matthew tells him, moving his hand up to the man's chest.
"Just feels weird having someone bathe me," Will cracks, gripping the sides of the tub.
There's a short huff of breath against Will's neck as Matthew begins to rub his chest in clockwise circles. Matthew adjusts himself in such a way to where he can peek over Will's shoulder and down the expanse of his abdomen. Christ, his body was flawless. Matthew mindlessly fingers at the scar on Will's left shoulder and runs his hand down to spread more suds over the man's body.
"I always imagined what it would feel like to touch you," Matthew admits, chuckling shyly. "And I must say, it's a whole lot better than a brief brush of fingers here and there."
Matthew can feel all the contours of Will underneath his fingertips, caressing muscles gently to elicit soft sighs that tumble out bashfully from Will's lips. Will stiffens, in more ways than one, when Matthew brushes a thumb over his nipple. Will has to bite his lip to keep from making a noise. How embarrassing would it be if Matthew found out he was turned on.
"Your body is so sensitive," Matthew comments when he realizes Will gasps every time he brushes over his pectorals. "When was the last time someone truly showed you the attention you desperately need?"
"I can't remember," Will croaks out, swallowing hard and making his adam's apple bob.
"That's a shame. A tragedy, really," Matthew consoles. The sponge is dipped again, retaining enough water to make it substantially heavy. "Bow your head and close your eyes."
He complies to Matthew's request because that's exactly what it is. Matthew never orders with the intent to dominate Will, but politely suggests to show Will they are equal. In fact, Will is so much more than Matthew in Matthew's eyes. He is a hawk. He is a God. Matthew raises the sponge above Will's head, drizzling with water, and squeezes it to dispel it's soapy contents in his hair.
The brown curls automatically lose their shape and straighten out mostly, hanging limply and sticking to Will's face and neck. The sponge has lost the majority of it's suds now but Matthew continues to run it over Will's body. Across his chest and down the length of his arms. Right now, Matthew is touching greatness in it's prime. His is spellbound by the flesh encasing the man that Will really is.
"One must get lonely in a place like this," Matthew suggests, caressing more than scrubbing now. "I know what that's like."
"There aren't too many ways to blow off steam," Will gushes, breathing shallowly.
It's been too long since Will's been touched by another human being and seeing that Matthew has made himself available for just such an occasion, Will can't help but think that this was Matthew's plan all along. Will could feel hoodwinked by the man's deluded sense of praise, but he honestly has no more room to care at this point.
"I'm always happy to help a friend," Matthew offers, dropping his voice down to a low rumble. "Just say the words."
"I don't think that I can," Will states tightly, shivering slightly as droplets of water run down his cooling body.
"But you want to, don't you?" Matthew inquires, dropping the sponge outside of the tub.
"Yes."
It's a raw admission that tears through Will's vocal chords, burning a path down his throat like shot of whiskey, and it hurts so good. Matthew withdraws his hands away from Will's body for only a moment so he could rub so soap on his hand. Will waits anxiously for the warm and admiring contact to return, choking up at just the thought of Matthew's gentle touch.
Matthew leans against Will's shoulder blades and reaches a hand down the length of him until his hand and forearm is obscured by soapy bath water. Before the soap can dissipate from his palm, Matthew grasps Will's erection hiding beneath the water. Matthew smirks, loving that Will was ready to go. Will sighs at the soft embrace of long fingers circled around him, squeezing just enough to make his pulse quicken.
"You are just full of surprises," Matthew applauds, giving Will an experimental stroke to make him gasp.
Will parts his legs consciously when Matthew begins to stroke him underneath the water and grips the sides of the tub until his knuckles turn white. Matthew's right hand fists Will's cock as the other comes around to toy with a nipple, teasing Will into a further state of rapture. Matthew seems to know exactly what buttons to press to make Will gasp.
"You're like an instrument, waiting to picked up and handled by the right pair of hands. But you need proper tuning in order to produce the best quality of music possible," Matthew comments. "I'm here to help you with that."
During the midst of teasing and stroking, Matthew cranes his head down to lick away the droplets rolling down the side of Will's neck. His tongue burns a trail of saliva over flushed skin and Matthew can't resist the urge to sink his teeth tenderly into Will's supple neck. This prompts Will to whimper at the sudden harsh suction of teeth and lips working over his pulse point.
There isn't enough pressure to break skin and the way Matthew licks to soothe his bite marks overpowers any real pain. Will's moans are trapped in his throat because there are too many things happening all at once. The sucking on his neck, the pinching sting across his nipples, and the twisting grip gliding along his cock. It's a well-orchestrated symphony of sensations to ease Will into a state of ecstasy.
"When was the last time someone fucked you?" Matthew asks, mostly rhetorically because he knew Will was too choked up to answer. "I can't imagine how tight you must be."
Will's breath hitches, body tensing at the vulgar assumptions Matthew has no shame exploiting. Just the suggestion of Matthew offering to fuck him is enough to make Will's toes curl with excitement. Will is a writhing, moaning mess when Matthew amplifies the pressure around his cock and toys with his nipples more firmly. What the hell has Will reduced himself to?
"I would spend hours taking you apart just to see what makes you tick," Matthew vows, stapling this comment with a nip to Will's ear. "And you would be on edge constantly, just begging me to finish you off."
Will's composure cracks as he lets out a pathetic little whimper, like an animal caught in a snare, and throws his head back against Matthew's shoulder. He openly moans towards the ceiling, bowing his head back to expose his neck perfectly to Matthew. The orderly bites into the hollow just off the side of Will's adam's apple and sucks like his life depends on it.
The hand Will doesn't have cuffed to the tub comes up to clutch at the back of Matthew's head, fisting in the short dark hair viciously. He's so close that Matthew can feel Will's pulse reaching its crescendo through his teeth and tongue. Matthew's hand is moving so swiftly along Will's cock now that it's causing the bath water to splash around carelessly.
Will is squirming and struggling to sit up in the tub as he slides down marginally from Matthew's eager stroking. The water splashes around him and spills onto the floor, even getting Matthew's white scrubs a little soaked in the process. Matthew abandons teasing the sensitive peaks of Will's nipples to wrap his arm around his chest and keep him upright long enough to bring Will to his threshold.
The beginning of the end starts with Will convulsing in Matthew's arms, moaning a litany of expletives, and thrusting up into Matthew's slippery grip. His body tenses visibly, letting Matthew know that it was time. He comes to the sensation of Matthew working him over the edge and teeth stabbing into his tender neck, marking him like the animal he is, and lets himself get lost in the euphoria of it all.
"Beautiful."
Matthew lets go of Will slowly, running his fingertips along Will's tense body one last time before retreating altogether. He picks up his ring of keys and pulls on his white coat. Matthew goes to unlock the cuff shackling Will to the tub, freeing him. Will is left to his own devices as Matthew brings him a towel to dry off with. Matthew drapes it over the other end of the bathtub, snatching up his handcuffs, and walks past him towards the door.
"Take your time," Matthew says.
Will raises out of the soapy water mingled with his release and steps out on shaky legs, gripping the side of the tub so he doesn't slip. He bends over and grabs the towel before turning around, noticing that Matthew is watching him by the door. Will doesn't turn away out of shyness but lets himself be admired from afar as he towels off.
The attention is oddly welcomed now, seeing as how it fills Will with a staggering amount of gratification. He even tousles his hair to dry it off but it's mostly to tease the other man, making a show of it. He gets dressed swiftly, making sure that nothing is out of place before walking over to Matthew.
Will promptly turns around and lets Matthew cuff his hands behind his back even though they both know Will would never try anything. Matthew walks Will all the way back to his cell, holding onto his arm just like before but perhaps a little more possessively this time.
They come to a stop in front of Will's cell and Matthew gestures at the guard to buzz open the bars so he can return Will back to his place. Matthew pulls the cell door shut, making sure it clicks into place and freeing Will from his handcuffs. Matthew glances over at the guard to see if he's paying attention before leaning in towards the bars.
"Thank you," Matthew whispers, staring into Will's eyes.
The look in Matthew's eyes almost makes Will want to beg the man to fuck him now, but he refrains from it for obvious reasons. Matthew steps back from Will's cell, smiling briefly before he walks away down the corridor. Matthew is intelligent enough to plan these brief interludes as well as time them perfectly.
Leading Will to the conclusion that there was going to be a next time.