[ that's the thing about bliss and contentment -- it makes one complacent. even graves, who had set out to seduce credence for significantly less altruistic reasons, finds himself seduced in turn by the boy's guileless charm, his kindness and that aching sincerity, the powerful desire to please. and underneath all that, a certain kind of backbone.
they've been fooling around behind mary lou's back for days, weeks, even months; all without her knowledge, and some part of graves is perversely pleased to have drawn his son down another path. but this, too, is another kind of strategy; as long as credence is on his side, he will be protected from the confederates, the men who are still out there looking for yankee soldiers even now. it is credence's protection -- mary lou's -- that assures his life.
he recovers more and more as each day passes, and now he can already move around by himself; his movements slower than usual but his health significantly better. but it's not all perfect. some nights, he can still feel the crack of a leather belt on scar-ridden skin, the soft cries credence makes that infuriates him, distresses him as he can only lie in bed and say nothing. with every successive night graves feels his distaste for his hostess grow -- even moreso when credence climbs into bed with him and sobs, tears hot as they stain his shirt.
those are nights when graves simply holds him tight and curses her silently, aching to protect him if only he's healed faster, better.
this morning, he's never felt better when he stretches his legs, happy to have this much progress -- and there's a twinkle in credence's eye, a smile on his mouth that makes graves recklessly tug him into his arms, in his bed. it's playful and passionate and graves knows without a doubt that he has fallen for this boy, and somehow during one of these nights, his heart had been stolen by him.
a complication that he finds he doesn't much mind, even if he doesn't have the slightest clue about loving someone -- but credence makes it easy. he runs his hands through his long, long dark hair, luxurious and silk-soft, remembering the nights he'd grabbed a firm hold of it, taught him how to suck cock, how to move, how to enjoy sex and all the pleasures it brings him. credence has blossomed; become happier, stronger, even if the scars on his hands take longer to heal.
graves has even taken to applying the ointment for him, too; credence takes care of people, but graves will take care of him. he leans up to nudge at him, angling for a kiss to his mouth -- and oh, how lovely that smile is. graves smiles right back, not expecting the worst. ]
Very much so. [ and maybe he can take credence away with him, away from this damned house. ] I want to ask you something, Credence. Answer me honestly.
[ every small bit of comfort makes credence lose his heart to graves all the more. he's never put his hurt on display in front of anyone before - his sisters that he protects from mary lou's wrath, taking the blame for any small sin they may have committed, have never been allowed to see him so much as flinch in the face of his punishments. they already feel guilty enough.
but graves holds him and soothes him and makes him feel better when he's desperate and aching and at points wishing perhaps to die so that he could be free of her finally - the biggest sin of all, he thinks, but he can't help it - except now he doesn't want that. he wants to stay alive, but he still wants to be free of her. he doesn't know what to do about that.
he's not thinking about mary lou at all at the moment though, sitting atop him and tipping his head just so in order to grant graves the proper kiss that he seeks, eyes bright and almost merry as he looks down at him.
he does sober slightly at what graves says though, nodding cautiously. ] Of course.
[ graves holds him and soothes him because he knows that he's the only sanctuary credence allows himself to have. he doesn't forget how his shoulders shake when he's trying to hold back sobs, how graves' own heart aches for him when he hears the pain in every muffled whimper, everything he tries to hold back for everyone's sake.
his fingers come to bury themselves in his hair, and he cradles the back of his head as he sits up. his other hand cups his face when he kiss ends, and he presses his forehead to his, intimate, warm. ]
[ credence gives too much of himself and that's part of the problem. it's why if everything graves did had been utterly predatory, eating away at him, he'd just have nothing left. but this is... different, and he knows that.
the fingers in his hair are nice, but his attention is taken by their foreheads being pressed together. he closes his eyes with a hum since trying to look from this close a proximity is just a blurry mess. he's in this moment of comfort when graves speaks and credence startles visibly and tangibly, pulling his head back enough to stare at him wide-eyed. somehow, he'd never thought anything would actually transpire outside these walls. ]
I--you're not well enough to leave yet, what if we get caught? She'll kill you, I know it, I don't want anything to happen to you, if it's that or suffer here I'd rather suffer--
[ he pauses, trying to calm himself, taking a couple of slow breaths and looking at him properly again, searching.
[ this is different; this is definitely different from graves' preliminary intentions -- to seduce the boy to ensure his safety. no, it's become more than that, love blossoming from the imperative to survive. he's asked something reckless of credence, something he knows the boy has never contemplated before. he can sense it in the surprise and the fear, and it's impressive how he contains himself after.
then again, isn't that already a part of credence's nature, that self-restraint beaten into him by years of discipline? graves watches him, fascinated by the play of emotions across his face, but that relief and pleasure is short-lived. ]
I don't want you to suffer, Credence. Not anymore. [ his hands come to cup his face, his expression turning serious, sober. ] I've heard you crying, I've heard what she does to you, seen the marks on your skin. I won't let you suffer anymore. [ he leans up to kiss him softly, slowly. ] Let me take care of you. We can run away where they can't find us. Pretend we are cousins.
[ somehow credence keeps himself calm enough to not dart away, to not try to put distance between them so that graves will stop asking him dangerous things, will stop risking his own life just to help credence. credence, who is simply a sinful young man that loves someone he's not supposed to, isn't worth dying over. how could he be? the mere thought of it is preposterous.
instead he leans into the older man's touch, brow furrowed with worry. ] I don't want anything to happen to you. [ he repeats it, sounding very small. like he had so many months ago. ] Please. I'm used to it. I just want you to be safe. [ but as he melts into that kiss, returning it and resting his hands at graves' shoulders, he knows what his real answer is. ] You'd really take me away from here? Take care of me?
[ do they look alike enough to be cousins? that's not important right now. more important is his sudden thought: ] We can't let her hurt my sisters. [ he kisses him again though, deeper, fervent. he loves graves so much, he knows. nothing will change that.
(somewhere, mary lou is prowling and looking for her son. it's past time for him to work at his other chores.) ]
[ graves will not stop -- not when he knows that credence is who he wants; and graves at a young age has understood that what he wants, he will eventually get. credence is a young man worth loving, worth spending time with; his company as precious as any jewel buffed and honed to a sparkle. ]
Yes, I will. We'll come back for your sisters when it's safe.
[ because it's the one thing that makes most sense -- they can't travel far or fast enough if he brings the two of them with them; they will first find a place for themselves to settle down, then come back and bring them back. he reaches up and cups his face, kissing him softly. he's oblivious to what lurks outside, the trouble brimming on the horizon. the door is closed but not locked, but credence can always be relied to care for the stranger even if graves is well enough to be out and about on his own.
his hands come up to his waist, and graves aches to have him again; not under cover of night but in the light of day. in the silence of the house, perhaps they can squeeze in a quick session, can't they? there's a gleam in graves' eyes when he looks back at him again. ] We'll find a farm, live off the land. You'll be free then -- free to love me, and be loved. Kiss me again, my love.
[ credence smiles softly and even this small thing is like the sun coming out from behind a cloud. there's nothing short of adoration in his eyes, the way he looks down at him as though he's the whole world. his fingertips trace the lines of graves' face, his jaw, his cheekbones, down the side of his neck. unerringly affectionate, somehow in this bleak place credence has blossomed into his own even if he's still young and frightened.
he's always so happy to return every kiss that graves will grant him, pouring his emotions into all of them. ] It sounds wonderful. Too good to be real. [ but don't most things? someone like graves had seemed too good to be real too. credence recognizes that look in his lover's eyes with the request and he clicks his tongue once, shifting to settle properly on his lap. ] Kiss me, he says, as though an innocent lamb asking for affection. [ teasing - something he never would have done all that time ago. now, he happily leans down to kiss graves again, hands smoothing over his chest and eyes lidding shut. it's a deeper kiss, open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out against graves' lower lip coaxingly.
he's hunched over graves, seated directly in his lap, and he's still in that position when the door clicks open without so much as a knock. there doesn't need to be: credence hears the latch and it's as though an entire basin of freezing water has been poured over him - he tenses, hunches forward more, squeezes his eyes shut. maybe it's his sisters. he hasn't prayed in so long but he does now.
the voice that speaks is unmistakably mary lou, devoid of any of the false friendliness that had been present in her before. ]
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no subject
they've been fooling around behind mary lou's back for days, weeks, even months; all without her knowledge, and some part of graves is perversely pleased to have drawn his son down another path. but this, too, is another kind of strategy; as long as credence is on his side, he will be protected from the confederates, the men who are still out there looking for yankee soldiers even now. it is credence's protection -- mary lou's -- that assures his life.
he recovers more and more as each day passes, and now he can already move around by himself; his movements slower than usual but his health significantly better. but it's not all perfect. some nights, he can still feel the crack of a leather belt on scar-ridden skin, the soft cries credence makes that infuriates him, distresses him as he can only lie in bed and say nothing. with every successive night graves feels his distaste for his hostess grow -- even moreso when credence climbs into bed with him and sobs, tears hot as they stain his shirt.
those are nights when graves simply holds him tight and curses her silently, aching to protect him if only he's healed faster, better.
this morning, he's never felt better when he stretches his legs, happy to have this much progress -- and there's a twinkle in credence's eye, a smile on his mouth that makes graves recklessly tug him into his arms, in his bed. it's playful and passionate and graves knows without a doubt that he has fallen for this boy, and somehow during one of these nights, his heart had been stolen by him.
a complication that he finds he doesn't much mind, even if he doesn't have the slightest clue about loving someone -- but credence makes it easy. he runs his hands through his long, long dark hair, luxurious and silk-soft, remembering the nights he'd grabbed a firm hold of it, taught him how to suck cock, how to move, how to enjoy sex and all the pleasures it brings him. credence has blossomed; become happier, stronger, even if the scars on his hands take longer to heal.
graves has even taken to applying the ointment for him, too; credence takes care of people, but graves will take care of him. he leans up to nudge at him, angling for a kiss to his mouth -- and oh, how lovely that smile is. graves smiles right back, not expecting the worst. ]
Very much so. [ and maybe he can take credence away with him, away from this damned house. ] I want to ask you something, Credence. Answer me honestly.
no subject
but graves holds him and soothes him and makes him feel better when he's desperate and aching and at points wishing perhaps to die so that he could be free of her finally - the biggest sin of all, he thinks, but he can't help it - except now he doesn't want that. he wants to stay alive, but he still wants to be free of her. he doesn't know what to do about that.
he's not thinking about mary lou at all at the moment though, sitting atop him and tipping his head just so in order to grant graves the proper kiss that he seeks, eyes bright and almost merry as he looks down at him.
he does sober slightly at what graves says though, nodding cautiously. ] Of course.
no subject
his fingers come to bury themselves in his hair, and he cradles the back of his head as he sits up. his other hand cups his face when he kiss ends, and he presses his forehead to his, intimate, warm. ]
Will you come away with me?
no subject
the fingers in his hair are nice, but his attention is taken by their foreheads being pressed together. he closes his eyes with a hum since trying to look from this close a proximity is just a blurry mess. he's in this moment of comfort when graves speaks and credence startles visibly and tangibly, pulling his head back enough to stare at him wide-eyed. somehow, he'd never thought anything would actually transpire outside these walls. ]
I--you're not well enough to leave yet, what if we get caught? She'll kill you, I know it, I don't want anything to happen to you, if it's that or suffer here I'd rather suffer--
[ he pauses, trying to calm himself, taking a couple of slow breaths and looking at him properly again, searching.
then: ] Yes. Yes, of course.
no subject
then again, isn't that already a part of credence's nature, that self-restraint beaten into him by years of discipline? graves watches him, fascinated by the play of emotions across his face, but that relief and pleasure is short-lived. ]
I don't want you to suffer, Credence. Not anymore. [ his hands come to cup his face, his expression turning serious, sober. ] I've heard you crying, I've heard what she does to you, seen the marks on your skin. I won't let you suffer anymore. [ he leans up to kiss him softly, slowly. ] Let me take care of you. We can run away where they can't find us. Pretend we are cousins.
no subject
instead he leans into the older man's touch, brow furrowed with worry. ] I don't want anything to happen to you. [ he repeats it, sounding very small. like he had so many months ago. ] Please. I'm used to it. I just want you to be safe. [ but as he melts into that kiss, returning it and resting his hands at graves' shoulders, he knows what his real answer is. ] You'd really take me away from here? Take care of me?
[ do they look alike enough to be cousins? that's not important right now. more important is his sudden thought: ] We can't let her hurt my sisters. [ he kisses him again though, deeper, fervent. he loves graves so much, he knows. nothing will change that.
(somewhere, mary lou is prowling and looking for her son. it's past time for him to work at his other chores.) ]
no subject
Yes, I will. We'll come back for your sisters when it's safe.
[ because it's the one thing that makes most sense -- they can't travel far or fast enough if he brings the two of them with them; they will first find a place for themselves to settle down, then come back and bring them back. he reaches up and cups his face, kissing him softly. he's oblivious to what lurks outside, the trouble brimming on the horizon. the door is closed but not locked, but credence can always be relied to care for the stranger even if graves is well enough to be out and about on his own.
his hands come up to his waist, and graves aches to have him again; not under cover of night but in the light of day. in the silence of the house, perhaps they can squeeze in a quick session, can't they? there's a gleam in graves' eyes when he looks back at him again. ] We'll find a farm, live off the land. You'll be free then -- free to love me, and be loved. Kiss me again, my love.
no subject
he's always so happy to return every kiss that graves will grant him, pouring his emotions into all of them. ] It sounds wonderful. Too good to be real. [ but don't most things? someone like graves had seemed too good to be real too. credence recognizes that look in his lover's eyes with the request and he clicks his tongue once, shifting to settle properly on his lap. ] Kiss me, he says, as though an innocent lamb asking for affection. [ teasing - something he never would have done all that time ago. now, he happily leans down to kiss graves again, hands smoothing over his chest and eyes lidding shut. it's a deeper kiss, open-mouthed, his tongue flicking out against graves' lower lip coaxingly.
he's hunched over graves, seated directly in his lap, and he's still in that position when the door clicks open without so much as a knock. there doesn't need to be: credence hears the latch and it's as though an entire basin of freezing water has been poured over him - he tenses, hunches forward more, squeezes his eyes shut. maybe it's his sisters. he hasn't prayed in so long but he does now.
the voice that speaks is unmistakably mary lou, devoid of any of the false friendliness that had been present in her before. ]
Credence.
[ credence is trembling, afraid to look up. ]