[ oh, but he does. he does, and he doesn't miss the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, which is why he leans forward to kiss his mouth harder, seeking and reassuring, firm and sure. his arm winds around him and keeps him there. where credence lets go, he doesn't.
he won't. ]
I still want you. [ he says, and that admission is difficult for a man like him to make. but he does -- despite the frustration of not having him, the ache of wanting but not being able to have. even now, having him in his arms is an incredible temptation. ] I want you more than anything else. [ he leans in to press his forehead against his. ] Credence, you have no idea what it's like to want so badly and not be able to touch. But you've had a long day -- you don't need to deal with this right now.
[ credence returns this kiss, urging into it, leaning into his grasp, and then he exhales shaking. it's a reassurance he'd desperately needed and he reaches to grasp at graves' arm briefly before he nods while their foreheads touch. ] All right.
[ he steals another kiss, this one soft and chaste, before smiling just a little. ] I'll rest, then.
[ when he pauses this time it's thoughtful and he pulls away slightly, just looking at him before he speaks cautiously and nervously. ] Is it all right that... [ a hesitation. ] Is it all right to love you? I--it's okay if you don't, I just--if you don't want me to I can pretend or try to stop or-- [ it's clear he's flustered - the ache and worry are so very real. ]
[ in the interest of full disclosure, and all that. graves runs his fingers through credence's hair, kissing him back again, again, and again, chaste and soft as he realizes what the boy's saying. he's flustered, worried and aching, and graves wants to do all he can to put him at ease.
his kisses trail down his throat, lingering over his pulse before he lays another kiss to it, slow and deliberate. ] But you're to finish what you started, Mr. Barebone. You're no quitter.
[ and neither is graves. he wants to love him, so badly -- hell, he already does; he can't imagine pretending not to. ] I won't lose you again.
[ he says it quietly, meaningfully. how long has he been feeling this way? he presses into those soft kisses, affectionate, needy. he breathes out shaking when they dip lower though, stretching out his neck and threading his fingers through the older man's hair in a way that's almost begging for more.
(graves' mouth at his pulse point makes him feel so good--) ] No, I won't give up. You're right. I haven't quit yet, why would I now?
[ softer. what graves says last touches him deeply and he closes his eyes a moment before he finally whispers. ]</small. I'm right here. I won't go anywhere.
[ graves doesn't entertain darker thoughts, doesn't allow himself to ruminate on 'what ifs', they're a waste of time when credence is here, present, and beautiful, burrowing against him so sweetly that he can't help the flicker of desire, the familiar coil of potent need.
he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
[ credence is having his own series of thoughts: how he feels safe again for the first time in what feels like years but is only a span of days in reality, the heat of graves' body against him, his breath, his lips. he breathes out slow once that hand settles at his back and he smiles faintly unseen.
then he pulls back a little to look at him, stepping back toward the bed and drawing the older man with him. ] Yes. I want to be reminded of where I am, who I'm with, and why I feel safe. [ he's smiling still as he sits at the edge of the mattress, now properly looking at him. his hands splay at graves' hips and hold him where he is, expression thoughtful. ] I want you above me, inside me, making absolutely sure that I'm yours.
[ he uses his grip to yank graves a tiny bit closer so that he can nuzzle at the front of his pants, breathe out hot against the fabric--and then glance up at him with a coy little smile. ] If that's all right with you.
[ graves is silent for a long moment, surprised by that little speech and demonstration, the fact that credence is finally, finally ready. the noble part of him wants to push this back, wants to remind him that he's functioning on the dregs of adrenaline, most likely. but the more selfish part, the one who desires credence so fiercely that sometimes he surprises himself, the most selfish part just wants credence and all that he is.
he looks at him, eyes dark and unmistakably hungry when credence holds him where he is, when he's seated like that and he's so close to where graves wants him, where he's fantasized about it -- jerking off in the shower because that's where he can find reprieve. he doesn't fight credence's advances, his hands coming in to comb through his hair when he feels the thrilling heat fanning over the crotch of his pants, a flicker of warmth going right to his cock.
fuck, he's so gone for him that it's embarrassing, and he wants more than anything to kiss that coy little smile away, or perhaps to make it grow, to show credence that he has nothing to fear with him. the words bring with them an overwhelming temptation, and he shivers, shifts to bow over him, cradling the boy in his arms before pushing him back onto the bed, straddling him, knees over either side of his thighs. ]
What a mouth you have on you. [ graves muses, soft but impressed, lips coming to brush over his cheek. ] Let me take care of you tonight. [ his eyes hold a promise of all that is to come, intense and unrelenting. talking through credence's experience can wait -- there are times when you just need to process it differently, and graves is more than happy to oblige. ] Make you forget everything else but me.
[ credence feels ready and he knows that even if he is running off adrenaline, graves isn't going to do anything that credence is going to regret. he also knows that if he tells the older man to stop he will, which gives him a sense of agency he so desperately needs. the look in graves' eyes peering down at him is very nearly enough to make credence's breath shake on its own and when fingers glide through his hair credence's eyes lid almost completely closed and he nuzzles into it almost as though he's a spoiled cat angling for more pets.
he's a little surprised when graves moves him instead of just letting him continue but he curls his arms around his neck anyway, resting lightly across his broad shoulders but clutching him close anyway. he settles back easily, looking up at him with something--trusting, adoring, almost shy but not quite--in his eyes, complicated as anything else.
credence smiles again, that tiny thing that's the most he ever wears, tipping into the kiss to his cheek. ] All right. [ relenting is simple enough with graves, watching him and processing what he says, shaking his head a little to get his hair out of his face as he leans it back into the mattress. when he speaks it's softly, lips parted from an exhale. ] Kiss me.
[ and kiss him he does, without hesitation. he's waited long enough for credence to be ready, and in the wake of his kidnapping graves had been forced to confront the very real fear that he could end up dead despite best efforts. that credence would slip him his fingers like so much smoke in the wake of everything they never said to each other, or did with each other -- graves knows he has to make up for all of it.
credence is pliant and willing, and he knows this isn't because he owes him, or that he has to do it because this is payment for his kindness. graves had made that clear, hasn't he? his fingers trace over his cheek, drinking in that lovely look on his face, that trust, that adoration, that something else he can't put his finger on. his gaze is dark, just as ardent, passionate for a man who has spent his life pretending to be otherwise.
this is where he comes out, when the director is set aside and the man takes his place; graves who desires only credence, who has fallen in love with him throughout the course of the months that he had taken him in. it's complicated, but he deepens the kiss and sinks into it, a hand coming to tug credence's shirt up to expose him to the cool air of the bedroom, fingers tracking to see if he's wearing underwear beneath.
his hand slips between credence's legs all the same, curving to palm his balls, a thrill curling in the pit of his stomach. he's finally getting to sample him, to take him for himself, and he smiles against his lips, warm and filled with potent anticipation. ] Tell me what you like.
[ credence kisses him back fervently, pouring everything he has into it. he's spent the past few days lonely and frightened and constantly in danger but still trusting - and his trust had been well-placed. so here he is now with graves, comfortable and happy beneath him - safe. he breathes out a pleased sound, nuzzling against the fingers at his cheek this time.
he definitely does love graves, and he definitely does want this with him. that's all there is to it. as the kiss deepens his hold on graves tightens, hands splaying at his back and pressing down like he can keep him here, make sure he can't leave even though he knows neither of them is going anywhere at all. he does wriggle a bit to help in tugging his shirt up, the cool air pleasant when the rest of him feels overheated.
credence is not, as it happens, wearing any underwear beneath his loose pajama pants, which really just makes graves' intended prize all the easier to get to. he gasps softly against his mouth and arches his hips upward, just a little. he licks his lips, ignoring the taste of iron there, then pulls back just enough to look at him. ] You. [ it's teasing though, light, and he leans up to catch him in another kiss, teeth nipping at his lower lip before tugging. he lets his head drop back again after, hair already a mess as he looks up at him. ] But if you want something more specific, I'm going to have to say your mouth.
[ ah. there's a moment where credence shifts, squirms, scoots himself up a little higher on the bed so that he can free one of his legs. when he curls up it's a bit cricket-legged but then he's placing the curve of one foot against one of the older man's shoulders, only staying in the bent position a moment before pressing downward with that same foot. it's a pointed gesture, and even though it looks and sounds very confident, there's still a blush dusting his cheeks.
there are also scars trailing the backs of his thighs, but his pants are still covering those for the moment. ]
[ his mouth, is it? graves' surprise becomes sharp, predatory delight when he realizes just what credence is doing, how his foot so delicately but firmly presses him down to where he wants him. no one has ever dared to do this with him before, none of his previous lovers save this one, who outshines them all. credence is safe with him, loved, because graves does not make promises he cannot keep.
he allows himself to be maneuvered to where credence wants him, impossibly turned on by that bold move. he can see the outline of his cock right here, and how it's obvious that he's not wearing a thing underneath. the pressure against his shoulder unrelenting, graves' smile betrays his pleasure; he does delight in a partner that is bold and confident, and that blush across pale cheeks is enough for graves to be almost entirely hard.
reaching up, he snags the waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it off his hips while letting it catch onto the spread of his thighs, enough to expose credence's lovely nakedness to the cool air of the room, how his cock rests against a thigh. all of him, graves thinks -- all of him is exquisite, and he can't help a warm curl of anticipation, a desire burning under his skin. ]
I've waited long enough for this, Credence. [ he murmurs, leaning forward, fingers hooked in his trousers and his mouth coming to press down the length of his cock, nestled in those lovely dark curls. one kiss, two, three; this is where percival graves worships, and his mouth parts to lay a soft kiss and a lick against the head of his dick, slow and deliberate. a taste of him, heady and intoxicating.
he could do this all damn night, suck him off again, again and again, just to have a taste of him in his mouth. he tugs on the pajama pants again, insistent, moving now so that he's above instead of between his legs. ]
[ 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?
[ graves murmurs, looking up at him, taking him in before he tracks kisses down his stomach, nuzzling against his cock before pressing a long, slow and sensuous kiss to the head of his cock, tongue lightly lapping over it. he can feel credence's foot press up against his dick, resting there like it's the most natural thing in the world to do, and he can't help but grind into it, wanting the contact, seeking him out.
he's gone without sex for too damn long, and now that he has him here and willing, graves is just about ready to pull out all the stops. he takes him in, everything, admiring and reveling in the moment. credence is blessedly naked and ready for the taking, sleek and lean and so very beautiful despite the bruises he's taken. he notice the scars on the back of his thighs now, catching sight of it once he's naked like this, and his hand comes to smooth up the back of it, frowning. ]
Your mother? [ he asks after a moment, tracking over his skin. he's not disgusted, not at credence, but he can't help a wave of possessiveness and anger. his thumb is lightly stroking up the underside of his cock all the same, followed up with his warm tongue. ] She won't get to hurt you again.
[ he's about to say something light and teasing again but what graves stops him dead, a flush rising high on his cheeks. It's caught him off guard - he'd expected some kind of compliment of course, but what he'd gotten is almost overwhelming. he exhales shaking but smiles anyway, voice a little breathy when he speaks. ] Good, I'm glad.
[ it's practically lost in the huffed-out almost moan that the feel of graves' lips and tongue on the head of his cock - no matter how lightly it's being done - pulls out of him. he squirms just a little, flexing his fingers and trying to not arch upward demandingly. and well, as for his foot - it's certainly not his first choice for how to pay attention to the older man's cock but as it's all he can reach with he uses it to rub a little harder in response to that grind, granting him as much friction as he can like this.
when his attention is drawn to the scars though, he tenses - not because he thinks graves will be disgusted (which he clearly isn't) but the brief flash of unpleasant memory. ] She always said I misbehaved, [ it's barely a murmur, but he's far too distracted by what the older man is doing to say much else just now - his hips twitch an he lets out a proper moan this time, toes curling a little unbidden-- ] It was a long time ago.
[ a long time ago, and one that will not happen again. a smiling credence is a beautiful credence -- he looks younger, more his age, when he smiles like that; the way the corners of his eyes crinkle sweetly, but it's short-lived when he hears that little moan and graves learns just how reactive he is.
he can feel it, the pressure right up against his cock through his trousers, and he makes a soft noise of appreciation, approval, and he shakes his head, taking his cock half into his mouth. he doesn't let him have time to get used to the sensation of having a hot, wet mouth wrapped around his dick before he's starting to suck, a hand pinning his hips down against the mattress.
graves is between his legs, sucking him off like his cock is the prize, shameless and bold. he's pretty damn good at it too, if he can say so himself, releasing him briefly only to lick up the underside of his shaft, rubbing over the ridges and veins before he takes the head, and more of him inside his mouth again.
his nose is buried in soft dark curls, the clean, musky scent of credence making him smile. he's waited long enough for this, and he hums softly, hitching credence's leg to let it rest on his shoulder. he's opening him up nicely, tongue laving around, above, underneath, sucking on him like he's the most delicious treat he's had in awhile.
not an inaccurate metaphor, all things considered. ]
[ it had been quite a while since credence had bothered with seeking out someone to have sex with even before he met graves and since then he definitely hasn't tried - any recent dalliances before meeting the director had been purely practical. now though, after so long and with someone he's eager to share this with, it's as though everything is amplified more than it should be. not that he's complaining - even with his hips held down credence's back arches slightly with a shuddering exhale, fingers of one hand threading through graves' hair but not gripping down. affectionate. his nails scrape over his scalp, trailing nonsense patterns because it's difficult to concentrate right now.
credence turns his head aside slightly, hair a mop-like mess covering half of his face. he maintains the clarity to continue to give graves' cock as much attention as he can, rubbing over him in a way both firm and curiously goading, as though he's trying to push him a little, see how much he can.
still - his attention is scattered by the feel of graves' mouth on his cock, of his tongue, of the hum around him that makes his fingers tighten appreciatively in the older man's hair as he moans again, soft. it's clear enough he's receptive and very vocal, which is perhaps surprising as he's never been heard while he's on his own--
--anyway. when graves moves him he relents although reluctantly, leg hooking over graves' shoulder neatly. he could happily let graves tend his cock like this all night if he's honest. at some point there's a breathed out please but even he's not sure what he's asking for - the leg hooked over graves shifts, curling up higher, the heel of his foot pressing down pointedly between his shoulder blades. more. ]
[ credence is not the only one eager to share this moment, this session -- when they're discovering each other for the first time and credence is all graves thinks about. the lean lines of his body, the shape of his cock, the scent of him, so impossibly intoxicating that he is all he sees. the wait is worth it, every frustration buried in the shower, every suppressed yearning. this is it, this is everything that he wants, and graves' gaze lingers on his face, turned aside and a lovely mess all the same.
he continues to suck him off, harder this time -- one hand still keeping him pinned down, and the other grabbing hold of his angle and tugging his leg further down, making him wrap it around him inside of pressing down on his shoulder blades. he's smiling against his cock, upping the ante as his head bobs while he continues, tongue and lips pressed tight and laving at him, free hand coming to fondle his balls, playing with him because he can.
his nose is now buried in credence's dark curls when he takes him in deeper, eager to unravel credence -- even if the young man doesn't know what to ask for, graves knows exactly what to give him, and he makes a soft, rumbling sound when his cock pushes against the back of his throat, providing vibrations that are bound to be felt. he appreciates how reactive credence is, and this only just spurs graves on to greater heights.
he wants him, he wants all of him; his taste, his scent -- he eases his hand on his hip in silent encouragement: come on, come fuck his mouth. ]
[ god. credence makes a point of tipping his head forward to watch graves, lips parted slightly as his tongue darts out to lick them. he wants all of this and more, grip on the older man's hair tighter than ever as his nails drag over his scalp a little harder. he curses audibly, squirming under the grip holding him down and propping himself up on his elbow.
it feels a little like graves is trying to suck the life out of him through his cock but in the best possible way; electricity through his limbs and something blissfully blank in his mind--he huffs out a breath, hand smoothing so he can rub it gently down to his nape, tip nails down slightly there. graves mouth on his cock and hand on his balls - it's all delightfully distracting. he swears more loudly when he practically hums around his cock, gasping out his name.
even when graves loosens his grasp on credence's hip it takes him a second to register it but once he does the pointed upward rock of his hips is paired with a moan. he's mindful when he starts a rhythm to keep his thrusts slow and shallow, foot flexing slightly. it's probably a little funny, the way he's curled slightly into himself to accommodate this. he's not thinking about that, though.
he's rubbing his thumb over graves' nape, fucking up into his mouth almost lazily like he wants to make this last. ]
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he won't. ]
I still want you. [ he says, and that admission is difficult for a man like him to make. but he does -- despite the frustration of not having him, the ache of wanting but not being able to have. even now, having him in his arms is an incredible temptation. ] I want you more than anything else. [ he leans in to press his forehead against his. ] Credence, you have no idea what it's like to want so badly and not be able to touch. But you've had a long day -- you don't need to deal with this right now.
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[ he steals another kiss, this one soft and chaste, before smiling just a little. ] I'll rest, then.
[ when he pauses this time it's thoughtful and he pulls away slightly, just looking at him before he speaks cautiously and nervously. ] Is it all right that... [ a hesitation. ] Is it all right to love you? I--it's okay if you don't, I just--if you don't want me to I can pretend or try to stop or-- [ it's clear he's flustered - the ache and worry are so very real. ]
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[ in the interest of full disclosure, and all that. graves runs his fingers through credence's hair, kissing him back again, again, and again, chaste and soft as he realizes what the boy's saying. he's flustered, worried and aching, and graves wants to do all he can to put him at ease.
his kisses trail down his throat, lingering over his pulse before he lays another kiss to it, slow and deliberate. ] But you're to finish what you started, Mr. Barebone. You're no quitter.
[ and neither is graves. he wants to love him, so badly -- hell, he already does; he can't imagine pretending not to. ] I won't lose you again.
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[ he says it quietly, meaningfully. how long has he been feeling this way? he presses into those soft kisses, affectionate, needy. he breathes out shaking when they dip lower though, stretching out his neck and threading his fingers through the older man's hair in a way that's almost begging for more.
(graves' mouth at his pulse point makes him feel so good--) ] No, I won't give up. You're right. I haven't quit yet, why would I now?
[ softer. what graves says last touches him deeply and he closes his eyes a moment before he finally whispers. ]</small. I'm right here. I won't go anywhere.
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he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
Or can he? ]
Are you all right with this?
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then he pulls back a little to look at him, stepping back toward the bed and drawing the older man with him. ] Yes. I want to be reminded of where I am, who I'm with, and why I feel safe. [ he's smiling still as he sits at the edge of the mattress, now properly looking at him. his hands splay at graves' hips and hold him where he is, expression thoughtful. ] I want you above me, inside me, making absolutely sure that I'm yours.
[ he uses his grip to yank graves a tiny bit closer so that he can nuzzle at the front of his pants, breathe out hot against the fabric--and then glance up at him with a coy little smile. ] If that's all right with you.
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he looks at him, eyes dark and unmistakably hungry when credence holds him where he is, when he's seated like that and he's so close to where graves wants him, where he's fantasized about it -- jerking off in the shower because that's where he can find reprieve. he doesn't fight credence's advances, his hands coming in to comb through his hair when he feels the thrilling heat fanning over the crotch of his pants, a flicker of warmth going right to his cock.
fuck, he's so gone for him that it's embarrassing, and he wants more than anything to kiss that coy little smile away, or perhaps to make it grow, to show credence that he has nothing to fear with him. the words bring with them an overwhelming temptation, and he shivers, shifts to bow over him, cradling the boy in his arms before pushing him back onto the bed, straddling him, knees over either side of his thighs. ]
What a mouth you have on you. [ graves muses, soft but impressed, lips coming to brush over his cheek. ] Let me take care of you tonight. [ his eyes hold a promise of all that is to come, intense and unrelenting. talking through credence's experience can wait -- there are times when you just need to process it differently, and graves is more than happy to oblige. ] Make you forget everything else but me.
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he's a little surprised when graves moves him instead of just letting him continue but he curls his arms around his neck anyway, resting lightly across his broad shoulders but clutching him close anyway. he settles back easily, looking up at him with something--trusting, adoring, almost shy but not quite--in his eyes, complicated as anything else.
credence smiles again, that tiny thing that's the most he ever wears, tipping into the kiss to his cheek. ] All right. [ relenting is simple enough with graves, watching him and processing what he says, shaking his head a little to get his hair out of his face as he leans it back into the mattress. when he speaks it's softly, lips parted from an exhale. ] Kiss me.
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credence is pliant and willing, and he knows this isn't because he owes him, or that he has to do it because this is payment for his kindness. graves had made that clear, hasn't he? his fingers trace over his cheek, drinking in that lovely look on his face, that trust, that adoration, that something else he can't put his finger on. his gaze is dark, just as ardent, passionate for a man who has spent his life pretending to be otherwise.
this is where he comes out, when the director is set aside and the man takes his place; graves who desires only credence, who has fallen in love with him throughout the course of the months that he had taken him in. it's complicated, but he deepens the kiss and sinks into it, a hand coming to tug credence's shirt up to expose him to the cool air of the bedroom, fingers tracking to see if he's wearing underwear beneath.
his hand slips between credence's legs all the same, curving to palm his balls, a thrill curling in the pit of his stomach. he's finally getting to sample him, to take him for himself, and he smiles against his lips, warm and filled with potent anticipation. ] Tell me what you like.
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he definitely does love graves, and he definitely does want this with him. that's all there is to it. as the kiss deepens his hold on graves tightens, hands splaying at his back and pressing down like he can keep him here, make sure he can't leave even though he knows neither of them is going anywhere at all. he does wriggle a bit to help in tugging his shirt up, the cool air pleasant when the rest of him feels overheated.
credence is not, as it happens, wearing any underwear beneath his loose pajama pants, which really just makes graves' intended prize all the easier to get to. he gasps softly against his mouth and arches his hips upward, just a little. he licks his lips, ignoring the taste of iron there, then pulls back just enough to look at him. ] You. [ it's teasing though, light, and he leans up to catch him in another kiss, teeth nipping at his lower lip before tugging. he lets his head drop back again after, hair already a mess as he looks up at him. ] But if you want something more specific, I'm going to have to say your mouth.
[ ah. there's a moment where credence shifts, squirms, scoots himself up a little higher on the bed so that he can free one of his legs. when he curls up it's a bit cricket-legged but then he's placing the curve of one foot against one of the older man's shoulders, only staying in the bent position a moment before pressing downward with that same foot. it's a pointed gesture, and even though it looks and sounds very confident, there's still a blush dusting his cheeks.
there are also scars trailing the backs of his thighs, but his pants are still covering those for the moment. ]
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he allows himself to be maneuvered to where credence wants him, impossibly turned on by that bold move. he can see the outline of his cock right here, and how it's obvious that he's not wearing a thing underneath. the pressure against his shoulder unrelenting, graves' smile betrays his pleasure; he does delight in a partner that is bold and confident, and that blush across pale cheeks is enough for graves to be almost entirely hard.
reaching up, he snags the waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it off his hips while letting it catch onto the spread of his thighs, enough to expose credence's lovely nakedness to the cool air of the room, how his cock rests against a thigh. all of him, graves thinks -- all of him is exquisite, and he can't help a warm curl of anticipation, a desire burning under his skin. ]
I've waited long enough for this, Credence. [ he murmurs, leaning forward, fingers hooked in his trousers and his mouth coming to press down the length of his cock, nestled in those lovely dark curls. one kiss, two, three; this is where percival graves worships, and his mouth parts to lay a soft kiss and a lick against the head of his dick, slow and deliberate. a taste of him, heady and intoxicating.
he could do this all damn night, suck him off again, again and again, just to have a taste of him in his mouth. he tugs on the pajama pants again, insistent, moving now so that he's above instead of between his legs. ]
Take them off. I want to see you.
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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?
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[ graves murmurs, looking up at him, taking him in before he tracks kisses down his stomach, nuzzling against his cock before pressing a long, slow and sensuous kiss to the head of his cock, tongue lightly lapping over it. he can feel credence's foot press up against his dick, resting there like it's the most natural thing in the world to do, and he can't help but grind into it, wanting the contact, seeking him out.
he's gone without sex for too damn long, and now that he has him here and willing, graves is just about ready to pull out all the stops. he takes him in, everything, admiring and reveling in the moment. credence is blessedly naked and ready for the taking, sleek and lean and so very beautiful despite the bruises he's taken. he notice the scars on the back of his thighs now, catching sight of it once he's naked like this, and his hand comes to smooth up the back of it, frowning. ]
Your mother? [ he asks after a moment, tracking over his skin. he's not disgusted, not at credence, but he can't help a wave of possessiveness and anger. his thumb is lightly stroking up the underside of his cock all the same, followed up with his warm tongue. ] She won't get to hurt you again.
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[ it's practically lost in the huffed-out almost moan that the feel of graves' lips and tongue on the head of his cock - no matter how lightly it's being done - pulls out of him. he squirms just a little, flexing his fingers and trying to not arch upward demandingly. and well, as for his foot - it's certainly not his first choice for how to pay attention to the older man's cock but as it's all he can reach with he uses it to rub a little harder in response to that grind, granting him as much friction as he can like this.
when his attention is drawn to the scars though, he tenses - not because he thinks graves will be disgusted (which he clearly isn't) but the brief flash of unpleasant memory. ] She always said I misbehaved, [ it's barely a murmur, but he's far too distracted by what the older man is doing to say much else just now - his hips twitch an he lets out a proper moan this time, toes curling a little unbidden-- ] It was a long time ago.
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he can feel it, the pressure right up against his cock through his trousers, and he makes a soft noise of appreciation, approval, and he shakes his head, taking his cock half into his mouth. he doesn't let him have time to get used to the sensation of having a hot, wet mouth wrapped around his dick before he's starting to suck, a hand pinning his hips down against the mattress.
graves is between his legs, sucking him off like his cock is the prize, shameless and bold. he's pretty damn good at it too, if he can say so himself, releasing him briefly only to lick up the underside of his shaft, rubbing over the ridges and veins before he takes the head, and more of him inside his mouth again.
his nose is buried in soft dark curls, the clean, musky scent of credence making him smile. he's waited long enough for this, and he hums softly, hitching credence's leg to let it rest on his shoulder. he's opening him up nicely, tongue laving around, above, underneath, sucking on him like he's the most delicious treat he's had in awhile.
not an inaccurate metaphor, all things considered. ]
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credence turns his head aside slightly, hair a mop-like mess covering half of his face. he maintains the clarity to continue to give graves' cock as much attention as he can, rubbing over him in a way both firm and curiously goading, as though he's trying to push him a little, see how much he can.
still - his attention is scattered by the feel of graves' mouth on his cock, of his tongue, of the hum around him that makes his fingers tighten appreciatively in the older man's hair as he moans again, soft. it's clear enough he's receptive and very vocal, which is perhaps surprising as he's never been heard while he's on his own--
--anyway. when graves moves him he relents although reluctantly, leg hooking over graves' shoulder neatly. he could happily let graves tend his cock like this all night if he's honest. at some point there's a breathed out please but even he's not sure what he's asking for - the leg hooked over graves shifts, curling up higher, the heel of his foot pressing down pointedly between his shoulder blades. more. ]
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he continues to suck him off, harder this time -- one hand still keeping him pinned down, and the other grabbing hold of his angle and tugging his leg further down, making him wrap it around him inside of pressing down on his shoulder blades. he's smiling against his cock, upping the ante as his head bobs while he continues, tongue and lips pressed tight and laving at him, free hand coming to fondle his balls, playing with him because he can.
his nose is now buried in credence's dark curls when he takes him in deeper, eager to unravel credence -- even if the young man doesn't know what to ask for, graves knows exactly what to give him, and he makes a soft, rumbling sound when his cock pushes against the back of his throat, providing vibrations that are bound to be felt. he appreciates how reactive credence is, and this only just spurs graves on to greater heights.
he wants him, he wants all of him; his taste, his scent -- he eases his hand on his hip in silent encouragement: come on, come fuck his mouth. ]
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it feels a little like graves is trying to suck the life out of him through his cock but in the best possible way; electricity through his limbs and something blissfully blank in his mind--he huffs out a breath, hand smoothing so he can rub it gently down to his nape, tip nails down slightly there. graves mouth on his cock and hand on his balls - it's all delightfully distracting. he swears more loudly when he practically hums around his cock, gasping out his name.
even when graves loosens his grasp on credence's hip it takes him a second to register it but once he does the pointed upward rock of his hips is paired with a moan. he's mindful when he starts a rhythm to keep his thrusts slow and shallow, foot flexing slightly. it's probably a little funny, the way he's curled slightly into himself to accommodate this. he's not thinking about that, though.
he's rubbing his thumb over graves' nape, fucking up into his mouth almost lazily like he wants to make this last. ]