Meat and Fluids (JTHM Fanfiction) (Nny x Me)

Chapter 9

(Nny's POV)

I didn't move. I didn't know why, but I didn't. What was I supposed to expect in a situation like this?

If I was one of my 'guests' I'd be terrified that I'd come down with a chainsaw or knife or some shit.

Instead, he came down with a sleeping bag.

All I would have to do is get my legs out, and I could have bolted, why didn't I?

I hadn't moved an inch from my spot. I hadn't moved at all actually, if I had been holding my breath I don't think I would have even noticed. He just smiled at me, thankful of that of that fact, and set down the bag.

THEN, he picked up a knife. Serrated and thin and oh, so sharp. I instantly tensed, seizing my body at the sight of the thing.

"So NOW you plan to KILL ME!?" of course I was defensive, he was coming at me with a knife! Was the bag for my body? Was it a body bag?

He looked at me, and then the knife, and back at me, seeming to mentally facepalm. And then he physically facepalmed, with his other hand.

"I need to cut off the rest of the ties off-"

Why can't you just until them-!"

"Cause you kept tightening then by moving!" He stated, and we both paused as he walked closer. He got down on his knees, sitting in his heels, to better get at my ankles. They were tightly wrapped, and if I still had feeling in my toes they would hurt from how they've been scraping against concrete with my struggling.

I wouldn't call it panic, but I stopped him before he brought the knife to close to my skin.

"Don't cut my jeans."

He looked up at me, lowering the knife a bit, "I'm not going to cut you... don't you trust me?"

I made a similar motion to what he had done before, bringing my face close down to his. But this angle was better, this was comfortable, having control and having leverage above someone.

"With a weapon... not on your life." I didn't like being at a loss for weaponry. I felt threatened, and overpowered, and I DIDNT LIKE IT!

His motions slowed as he sets down the knife by my restrained foot. He just kept looking me in the eyes while he reached for my hands, calm smile set on his features.

"Stop that." His smile dropped at the statement. I reeled my hands back, out of reach. But he's already made it clear that what he wants, he'll make happen. "I don't like being touched," my voice we was monotonous, but it was just as calm as his had been. Soothing, quiet... reassuring...

"That's not the point..." his voice was soft as he reached out again, and I didn't move this time. Though, partially because I couldn't put them back any farther without hitting the wall behind me.

Fingers wrapped around my wrists and I did nothing to stop it. I could have too, easily. The grip was soft, careful even. Guiding, not pulling.

The knife was really close. I could have bent down and grabbed it, and this would all be over. He was so vulnerable, such an easy target, right in front of me. I could have been gone and right out the door, back home, back to Bunny and Mr. Fuck...

Instead, I let him. And he set my hands on his shoulders, right at we're his shoulders slid up to his neck.

"Now it's more even," he stared, leaving my hands there while he reached for the knife again. He continued, "If I hurt you... you hurt me." His eyes flicked back down to the object, finally able to pick it up.

He had to find a gap to wedge the tip of the blade into before he could start cutting at the leather. The only ones being we're my ankle and the chair leg met, making the gap small, but workable. I felt the blade tap against my skin and my hands slipped higher on his throat. He drew in a sharp inhale, only pausing a second, before continuing to slip the back of the knife down my leg and foot. The leather took a moment to saw through, getting caught on the serrated edges every now and then, but it was probably safer than trying to go at it with a smooth blade. One that could slip.

As soon as one foot was free I flexed it, rotating everything I could and stretching out my toes while Roy started on the other ankle.

I really wanted to stand up and stretch out. Maybe run out the door-

"Press your back against the chair."

I stared at him blankly, "Why."

"So I can continue..." That's not what I was asking.

"... Why would you trust my with this?" I gripped his neck tighter for a moment, loosening my grip as soon as the point was made. He seemed to stop breathing, as if afraid I'd actually do it.

And there it was, the fear. The moment I realized it was all an act. That he was truly scared.

Just like everyone else.

could feel him swallow against my hands, the muscles in his neck contorting to drag down his anxiety to the bottom of his stomach. But none of it was obviously shown.

He even joked, able to smile and holding the knife to the base of my ribs, "I could say the same to you..." So I listened, something I knew I wasn't good at when it came to living people. And his nervous little smile was a little less nervous as he worked the blade between my stomach and the bindings. I pressed my back flat against the chair while he lacerated the leather, so I wasn't as likely to get cut up. He went to stand up, my hands coming away from his throat, gathering the loose pieces off the floor.

And with his arms full and no longer having an advantage with a knife to me.

I bolted.