Everywhere else in his life, Dick was not a begger. He would never beg for his life, he would never beg for help. Forgiveness, maybe, but only when guilt consumed him.

In bed, however, Dick loved to beg, loved to be teased. He was unabashed in his reaction - letting it build, staring slow as he shifted against the silk, then pushing back harder into Rob's mouth, then lifting his hips, bending his knees. He groaned happily as fingers pressed into him, the shifting turning into a wanton writhe as he attempted to work himself further down onto those digits.