Disclaimer: I own nothing from Repo! The Genetic Opera. Assume this statement extends to the whole fan fiction.
Author's Note: Hello, readers! I'm sorry for taking so long. I know you guys wanted some Grilo, so here it is. I'm not all that good with writing smut, but I hope this will tide you over until I can post again. Finals are coming, and I might not be able to write all that much. My OUAT fanfic has some chapters I need to post, too, so you might enjoy that as well.
As usual R & R!
Shilo sat in a steaming bath, her back pressed against the side of the tub. Ever since Graverobber had told her that he was going to claim her as his on her birthday, she couldn't get him out of her head. No measure of book reading or bug catching could get him out of her brain.
He insisted on planning a little party for her—minus Clare and Ivan. He had told them that they could celebrate with her later, but she was his for the entirety of her birthday night.
She blushed at the thought. She ran a hand over the short hair that had begun to grow on her previously bald head. Clare's plan for weaning her off her medicines seemed to be working. Her hair was growing for the first time in her life, and she didn't feel the crushing haze of her drugs.
She got out of the tub and wrapped herself in a plush white towel. Leaving the bathroom, she walked into her room and picked out a little black dress which Clare had shelled out the cash for. It clung enticingly to her curves, and she just knew that Graverobber would love it.
She quickly ran a brush through her short hair, excited at the fact she could brush it without taking it off, like she had to with her wig.
She walked down into the kitchen, but found no one. Surprised, she went into the den and found Graverobber stoking a fire in the fireplace. He had cleaned himself up. His multi-toned hair was combed through, a leather thong holding it in place behind his head.
He had on black slacks and a metallic blue button-down shirt. He was the epitome of classy businessman, except for one minor detail: he was barefoot.
She giggled and his head snapped in her direction. He grinned and stood up, brushing the ash from his pants. "I was lighting a fire. The real thing is a little more romantic, don't you think?" he asked, walking over and pressing a kiss to her temple.
"I agree," Shilo replied, threading her hands in his hair and pulling him down to a proper kiss. She held him fast by his hair as she tasted that which was only Graverobber.
"Fuck dinner; I want you now," he growled, wrapping his arms around her waist. He took over, releasing her lips and trailing kisses down her jaw.
He worshipped Shilo like a pilgrim at a holy temple, his love for her never waning.
Shilo dozed, but was awakened by Graverobber's contented sigh. They were still lying on the wood floor of the house, but neither seemed to care. She rested her head on his chest and sighed. "I guess dinner could wait," she said with a smile.
"Damn straight, baby," he said with his own devilish grin spreading across his features.