[ credence almost lets out a laugh when he can tell that graves has realized what he's doing. but only almost - he's too busy looking down at him, watching him, licking his lips and lowering his lids over eyes dark with desire. there's no hint of the anxiety or fear that had wracked him the first time he'd approached the older man sexually and instead it's replaced with an open appreciation, want, and a pleased expression that will let graves know that he's doing exactly what he wants.
the way graves kisses along the length of his cock quickens the stirrings of arousal in him, steadily hardening in the contrast of cool air and warm lips. the lick is what draws a quiet noise from him and credence's toes flexing down to press into the back of graves' shoulder, encouraging. if graves feels as though he could mouth at credence's cock all night, it mirrors how credence knows he could soak it all in, arch upward, press further into his mouth insistently, drag nails over his scalp--all night. the thought of it is distracting enough that he has to look up at graves and focus on him properly as he feels the shift of the mattress.
credence is pliant when graves moves though, settling beneath him easily and looking at him--he lifts his hips off the bed so that he can tug his pants off the rest of the way, not thinking at all about his scarring as he bends his legs at the knee to get rid of all the fabric. it's not a purposeful thing; he just doesn't care about them too much any more. what he does care about is the man hovering so carefully over his body. he can't reach with his hand, but that doesn't stop him. instead he stretches out the leg that had been shoving at graves' shoulder so that he can brush his foot across the front of the older man's pants. lightly, then a little more purposeful so that he can feel just how hard he is beneath the fabric. it rests there after, a point of contact.
he bites his lip on the side that isn't split, eyes bright now. ] How do you feel about what you see?
no subject
the way graves kisses along the length of his cock quickens the stirrings of arousal in him, steadily hardening in the contrast of cool air and warm lips. the lick is what draws a quiet noise from him and credence's toes flexing down to press into the back of graves' shoulder, encouraging. if graves feels as though he could mouth at credence's cock all night, it mirrors how credence knows he could soak it all in, arch upward, press further into his mouth insistently, drag nails over his scalp--all night. the thought of it is distracting enough that he has to look up at graves and focus on him properly as he feels the shift of the mattress.
credence is pliant when graves moves though, settling beneath him easily and looking at him--he lifts his hips off the bed so that he can tug his pants off the rest of the way, not thinking at all about his scarring as he bends his legs at the knee to get rid of all the fabric. it's not a purposeful thing; he just doesn't care about them too much any more. what he does care about is the man hovering so carefully over his body. he can't reach with his hand, but that doesn't stop him. instead he stretches out the leg that had been shoving at graves' shoulder so that he can brush his foot across the front of the older man's pants. lightly, then a little more purposeful so that he can feel just how hard he is beneath the fabric. it rests there after, a point of contact.
he bites his lip on the side that isn't split, eyes bright now. ] How do you feel about what you see?