Thank you. [ for the reassurance. credence studies graves for a moment, trying to decide whether the offer is genuine and then he smiles, taking a slow drag as he gets up from the chair to look up at him. he still has a growth spurt in him, lurking until it can place him taller than graves. for now the older man is still several inches taller.
he hadn't missed the way graves had watched him with the smoke and he uses it to bolster his confidence as his hand grasps at the back of his neck gently and pulls him down for a kiss, slow and sensual. it's oddly practiced for someone like him - when did he learn? anyway, he's urging the smoke into graves' mouth instead before relenting and taking a step back.
he's grinning as he takes yet another drag and exhales toward the ceiling. ] I think we can rack up a few things he doesn't need to know about.
[ he's not even eighteen, graves thinks to himself when he watches credence slink over to him, lovely and sensuous and completely aware of what he's doing. the young man is stunning when he's on a mission, and graves can't help but be fixated on him -- no matter how wrong it is.
he's good at this, and graves wonders just how many people he's kissed to be this gifted, tasting of smoke and impossible sweetness, a potent, intoxicating mix as he breathes him in and exhales smoke, stinging and all-encapsulating at the same time. graves is seduced, just so, and he finds himself aching when credence steps back out of his reach, with only the lingering warmth of the kiss on his lips and the pleasant burn in his mouth.
he wants more. credence tastes better than he'd imagined him to in his most secret fantasies, and it seems like the young man can see right through him, down to every single filthy, unspeakable thing graves has once thought of doing to the teenager.
he resists the urge to lick his lips. ] What was that for?
[ credence isn't blind to the way graves seems to look at him when no one is around to see. he likes it, first off, and he likes graves too, and it presents itself as a challenge - to ensnare a man he'd thought he couldn't have, to see how far he could bring him in toward the taboo. the son of his boss, just a few months shy of his eighteenth birthday. he's wondered if he could manage it in that time but it's clear he'll be able to with enough effort put in.
he smiles, soft and coy, looking at him through his lashes. credence does lick his lips, pointedly, seeking the taste of him, not sated in the least. ] I wanted an answer. I have it, now.
Come here. [ he takes one last drag before stubbing out the cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and dropping the butt into a nearby ashtray that's ostensibly for the guard staff but is mostly used by credence himself.
more importantly in the next second he's pressed close against him, arms around his neck as he turns his head away to blow the smoke away - perhaps a disappointment after that last kiss, but all the same: ] What do you want it to be for, Percival? [ there's something promising but dangerous there as he kisses him again, lingering there against his mouth and still tasting of sweetness and sharp smoke. when he pulls back, he's the cat that caught the canary. ] For what reason would you like me to kiss you?
[ graves's words are honest, but not sharp -- he's standing so closely to him now, so acutely aware of his body heat as he finally gives in to the powerful temptation to hold him close, an arm coming to wrap around that slender waist because oh, he's wanted to do this for so long.
the kiss ends too quickly, tasting like smoke and something else so unmistakably credence that he cannot help but move to capture his mouth again. the son of his boss, just a few months' shy of his eighteenth birthday, is locked in graves' arms in his own room and with no one the wiser. credence asks him questions graves cannot answer, not if he wants to keep his job and all his limbs. ]
I can't answer that.
[ he mustn't. still, his lips haunt him, the softness of his mouth and the passion in his kiss, and he seeks him out again instead of answering, pushing him up against the immense window before taking another kiss for himself, more heated and passionate, aching to kiss the smugness off that exquisitely, boyishly handsome face.
this is what he wants. this is what he can never have; credence's heart, his desire, his full, unwavering attention. he knows how he yearns to spend hours with him like this, to know every inch of him intimately, to feel that nubile young body open up under him like a flower to the sun.
he pours all of that into the deep, sensuous, unyielding kiss, his tongue slipping into credence's mouth, sliding against his again, again and again, as if he cannot have enough. ]
[ he aims for imperious but when graves' arm comes to wrap around him he trembles slightly, overtaken by the moment as he leans toward the older man, pressing into the kiss until it ends and when he exhales it's shaking. it's everything he's wanted - and when graves kisses him again something in him sings. ]
You can. You won't.
[ it's not sharp either, somehow. he can feel the cool glass at his back even through his clothing and he practically whines into the kiss, pressing into it and deepening it, teeth catching his lower lip and tongue brushing against tongue insistently. he wants this always, wants more than this, wants everything.
he only breaks the kiss when he needs to breathe, hands still on him though they've shifted so that he can rub his thumbs over graves' lapels. ] Please. [ it's soft and vulnerable and needy and he looks up at graves again, searching and wanting. ] I've wanted you for so long. Please.
[ for so long? how long has credence nursed these desires? they've worked together quite a while now, how old was credence when this began? ]
[ graves is surprised, forgetting to answer to what credence wants, what he wants the young man to kiss him for. he doesn't move away from him, his gaze tracking over where his hands trail down is lapels, drawn to every small movement, every touch.
he's vulnerable, needy and soft, and graves cups his face to kiss him again, harder this time. he's addicted to the taste of him, he finds -- the kisses expose him for what he wants, and it's credence. young, pliable, passionate; he feels like a filthy old man, but he doesn't give a shit. ]
[ by the time graves kisses him again, credence has wound his arms around the older man's neck and he's standing on tiptoe to receive the affection, pressing up against his mouth insistently and carrying on with the kiss so that he doesn't have to answer for a moment.
but he knows he does, eventually. even so he buries his face in graves' shoulder briefly with a shake of his head before he finally speaks. ]
Almost since you started. Definitely since you treated me like a person instead of some annoying pet that needs looking after.
[ he's a little tense - that was some time ago. credence was... sixteen? then. no, not even. three weeks shy of sixteen the day graves became his companion and guard.
fifteen. no wonder he's a little embarrassed. it had just been a tiny puppy crush then of course, but it's blossomed into something more. ] Sorry.
[ graves has more to be sorry about, when he cups his face and draws him forward, pulling him in to kiss him. ] I wanted you since the moment I saw you.
[ fifteen, young and lush and so impossibly beautiful that graves had steadily pushed that urge away, again and again, forcing it down and pretending it didn't exist. his kiss is harder now, more demanding, and he relishes the way credence pushes his body up against his, lean and lithe and so impossibly tempting that he has to take a breath when he breaks the kiss, eyes so dark with unfettered longing.
but he can't. he can't. credence's embarrassment is endearing, attractive, but he's the older of them both here, and even when the kiss is still warm on his lips, graves knows he has to be the one to have this under control. perhaps it's only a crush credence will grow out of. ] You haunt my thoughts when I'm not with you.
[ rather than think graves needs to apologize, the knowledge feeling warm in his chest. he knows it was just want and not an emotion but it's still nice to know, something that makes him smile as he curls and uncurls his toes in his shoes, letting out a little hum.
all shyness gone, credence kisses graves back hungrily, one hand coming to rest at his nape and dragging nails gently across, aiming to make him react in some way.
but then graves pulls back and speaks and something tightens in him, hot and cold at once as it grips his heart. he wants that, wants graves to crave him always, and he leans up to press their foreheads together, almost sly but not quite. ] Do you like it? Thinking of me always? [ he licks his lips - this is a dangerous game they're playing. ] How do I haunt you?
[ this is a very dangerous game they're playing all right -- credence asks something graves should not answer, his coy words the very nature of a young man who's discovered that he is desired, needed, and graves knows he cannot give him that. he craves him, is addicted to his kisses, and something in his eyes darkens as he grasps him by the back of his neck, keeping him close. he's hissing softly when he feels credence cradling the nape of his neck, when he plays with him, every sensation greedily swallowed up because he doesn't know when this will stop. ]
You don't need to know that, Credence. [ he brushes his mouth over his lightly. he doesn't need to know how he's the star of his filthiest dreams, his most impossible desires. ] You don't need to know how much I want you. How I'd kill to have your mouth on me. Or imagine what you'd look like spread wide on my bed, ripe for the taking.
[ credence shakes his head there against him, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye still. ] I do, though.
[ he noses a kiss to graves' jaw, to the corner of his mouth. ] I need to know everything.
[ there's a moment where he returns that gentle kiss but also tries to tease it into more - breathing out against his mouth and nipping at his lower lip, still as needy as ever. ] Don't stop kissing me.
[ credence rarely gives orders, but this certainly seems to be one. ] And tell me how you'd kill to have my mouth on you. How you imagine me naked and splayed, looking up at you while I wait for you to fill me--
[ suddenly he just smiles. ] I could show you, if you wanted. What that looks like.
[ graves' breath catches in his throat when credence offers those words to him, and when he orders him not to stop. the young man isn't afraid of what graves can do to him -- he doesn't have to be; despite the fact that graves can easily kill him, credence has him in his thrall, fascinated and drawn to him despite himself.
he gives him more, kissing him back, once and again, tongue pressing lightly against his own. ]
You don't know what you're saying. [ graves breathes, rough and harsher than he intends, because he's thinking about it, so hard in his pants but he's thinking of it, his lovely charge entirely naked, milk-white, smooth skin as he spreads his limbs, his cock hard and jutting proudly between his legs, and right there, spread before him, is a body ready to be fucked, to be ravished.
he swallows, his eyes dark and burning with unspoken desire. oh, how he wants to fuck him. ] You've never had a man before.
[ credence melts into each kiss easily, granting him a soft and sweet moan against his mouth. there's something powerful in knowing that he can have this kind of effect on graves and he urges close against him. he can feel just how hard he is and aches to take him in hand, to feel the weight of his cock in his hand.
instead he'll content himself with this, the roughness in graves' voice making him shiver. ] Is it a problem? To have never been with a man before you?
[ an easy confirmation to make. he leans to nip at his lower lip with a hum, looking as pleased as anything. ] Or are you going ot tell me to go practice on someone my age first?
[ he says sharply, a little too quickly than he likes. the idea of credence doing this with someone else makes something dark twist in his chest, a kind of anger that he recognises. it's possessiveness, fierce and unyielding. credence is his, and the thought of anyone touching him, kissing him like he has makes him want to punch things.
preferably the perpetrator in question. but graves composes himself, and he brushes credence's hair back from his face, kissing him again, lips trailing over his jaw. ] None of them will know what they're doing. You deserve better.
[ the show of possessiveness makes credence smile but he doesn't comment on it - instead he kisses him back, then stretches out his neck a bit to encourage graves' lips to move ever-lower with a soft whine. keep going, it goads, trying to see just how far-- ]
And it's all right if I don't know what I'm doing with you? By your logic, you deserve better if I don't have that kind of experience.
[ he doesn't seem put out by it - his fingers are trailing up and down his back and he smiles, raising his eyebrows even if graves can't see it. ] Unless those rules are different?
[ graves confirms, because credence is being a little shit and as much as graves likes it, he enjoys getting to shut him up as well. and that he does when he sucks a little lovebite at his collarbone, marking pristine fair skin for himself because he can.
he undoes one button, two, testing and exploring, guilt and pleasure coiling in his chest -- it's dangerous and wrong, but the pull is so very potent. ] Do you want me to be your first, Credence? The first man to kiss you, to touch you, to whisper things in your ear you wish you could do.
[ the fact that graves is willing to leave any evidence behind at all is almost more thrilling than the action itself. credence shivers and breathes out a little moan despite himself, one hand coming to rest at the back of the older man's head, nails scraping just so.
he wants more, more - exhaling shakily is just evidence of how much he wants it as his fingers tighten in his hair. otherwise he stays still for the way graves is toying with undoing his buttons, licking his lips. ] You're not my first kiss-- [ more acting like a little shit, but: ] You're definitely the first one that matters, the first good one. [ a pleasant hum, one hand trailing fingers down his shoulder briefly. ] I want everything you're willing to give me. Everything you'll let me drag right out of you.
[ this is evidence that cannot be tied back to him -- even in this state graves knows how much credence wants him, how he will keep this a secret; after all, if he breathes a word of it, they can never see each other again. and credence, his sweet, yearning boy; will never allow that, will he?
he has to smile at those promises and the provocation -- oh, he knows better than to rise to it, but he knows he has to stop. they have to stop, or graves will push it too far and do something they'll both possibly regret. ]
[ it's as true as anything can be. credence will keep graves at his side until one of them dies, it's that simple. he wants him, needs him, isn't going to let anyone snatch him away because of some stupid mistake. he's a teenager, besides: who's going to ask a seventeen year old who gave him love bites? more likely he'll just get grounded on principle.
(to think, percival is courting someone that can still be grounded.)
credence's eyes on graves are dark and wanting. he's not thinking about potential regrets. he's thinking of how to get more. ] I just said you were the first good one, didn't I? Unless you'd like me to test it more.
[ both arms around his neck, pressing their foreheads together, ghosting his lips across the older man's: all meant to reel him in just a little more. ]
[ graves says smoothly, pressing him up more comfortably against the glass as he leans down to kiss him once more, unable to have enough of his sweetness, the taste of him so potent and intoxicating. he's courting someone that can still be grounded, and in it is a dangerous, forbidden thrill.
a hand curving over his thigh, moving upwards ever so slowly, he gently coaxes the other's legs around him. ] You can't tell this to anyone. This has to be our little secret. You understand, don't you?
If the testing is kissing you more, I think I'd like it.
[ on a hum. he doesn't want to kiss anyone else. just graves, who he wants to kiss endlessly. he's pliant in his arms, almost fae-like for how light and lanky he is. he crosses his ankles behind graves' back, kissing him back fervently as his hands come to cup his jaw.
this is what he wants after all, isn't it? ] I know. [ he sounds a little affronted, a little petulant. ] I'm not a child, I know when subtlety is required.
[ not a child is almost comical. then, imperious: ] Kiss me again. [ he tips up for one, eyes half-lidded. ] Do you like kissing me? You seem to think someone inexperienced doesn't make for a nice time.
[ graves would like it, too. which is why he continues, taking his time with him, drawing on his bottom lip, then deepening the kiss. graves is good at it, at sparking passion, urging sensuality, bringing it out of credence lazily, wanting him to enjoy every sensuous moment of it.
there is passion in their kisses, and he enjoys just how petulant he is, how he asserts himself and tells him he's not a child. ] I like kissing you. I like feeling the way you learn. Can you tell?
[ he murmurs. ] You're picking little tricks up from me already. [ he's kissing him again, a different way this time, tongue pressing up gently against tongue, easing into his mouth to explore him, as skilled as he is fervent in his desire for him. this is credence, giving himself over to him, innocent and untouched, and graves will have all of him. ]
[ it almost makes him sound more like a child to insist that he isn't one but graves knows that, doesn't he? perhaps that's part of the appeal, his youthfulness. whether it is or not credence is appeased by the words and the kisses - eventually he nods, mouths still barely touching. not kissing, but almost. ] I'm a quick study.
[ this is almost teasing and he kisses him again, teeth grazing his lower lip while he urges tongue against tongue again, hands gripping at his shoulders instead now. when he pulls back this time he nuzzles against him, taking a slow breath. ] I want to keep you by my side always. Swear to me you'll never leave me.
[ it's part of the appeal, how innocent he is, how sweetly uncomplicated he is in this moment. the youthfulness of his words calls to him, reminds him of a simpler time -- reminds him of just how he can shape him from this. graves knows that it's a weighty, incredible responsibility, and he pauses for a moment after the kiss, contemplating credence's request.
he knows what he wants. his little prince, all his life pampered and spoiled, given what he wants when he wants it, wants him. and graves, who has had more than his fair share of lovers and casual flings, is aware of just what he's asking him. ]
I'm your bodyguard. [ he murmurs, brushing credence's dark hair, tucking it behind his ear. he's indulgent, wondering if credence really knows what he's talking about, what he's asking from him. ] I'll be with you for as long as I'm needed.
[ credence knows exactly what he's asking of graves. there's a point to it, a neediness over it, the way his heart clenches when graves answers him. his lips pull into a delicate frown and he shakes his head, looking at the older man for a long moment before granting him a kiss, slow and sweet and affectionate. ]
You're far more than that. [ it's soft, murmured against his mouth, before he settles against him and rests his head on his shoulder. ] You've never been only a bodyguard. That's important, but the rest is important too.
[ he sighs, pressing a kiss to his jaw just below his ear. ] If you wanted to go I would let you. As much as I care for you and want you, it's not worth anything if I'm so cruel as to try and keep you here when you don't want to. You can walk away if you like, whenever you like. I just hope you'll stay.
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he hadn't missed the way graves had watched him with the smoke and he uses it to bolster his confidence as his hand grasps at the back of his neck gently and pulls him down for a kiss, slow and sensual. it's oddly practiced for someone like him - when did he learn? anyway, he's urging the smoke into graves' mouth instead before relenting and taking a step back.
he's grinning as he takes yet another drag and exhales toward the ceiling. ] I think we can rack up a few things he doesn't need to know about.
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he's good at this, and graves wonders just how many people he's kissed to be this gifted, tasting of smoke and impossible sweetness, a potent, intoxicating mix as he breathes him in and exhales smoke, stinging and all-encapsulating at the same time. graves is seduced, just so, and he finds himself aching when credence steps back out of his reach, with only the lingering warmth of the kiss on his lips and the pleasant burn in his mouth.
he wants more. credence tastes better than he'd imagined him to in his most secret fantasies, and it seems like the young man can see right through him, down to every single filthy, unspeakable thing graves has once thought of doing to the teenager.
he resists the urge to lick his lips. ] What was that for?
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he smiles, soft and coy, looking at him through his lashes. credence does lick his lips, pointedly, seeking the taste of him, not sated in the least. ] I wanted an answer. I have it, now.
Come here. [ he takes one last drag before stubbing out the cigarette on the bottom of his shoe and dropping the butt into a nearby ashtray that's ostensibly for the guard staff but is mostly used by credence himself.
more importantly in the next second he's pressed close against him, arms around his neck as he turns his head away to blow the smoke away - perhaps a disappointment after that last kiss, but all the same: ] What do you want it to be for, Percival? [ there's something promising but dangerous there as he kisses him again, lingering there against his mouth and still tasting of sweetness and sharp smoke. when he pulls back, he's the cat that caught the canary. ] For what reason would you like me to kiss you?
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[ graves's words are honest, but not sharp -- he's standing so closely to him now, so acutely aware of his body heat as he finally gives in to the powerful temptation to hold him close, an arm coming to wrap around that slender waist because oh, he's wanted to do this for so long.
the kiss ends too quickly, tasting like smoke and something else so unmistakably credence that he cannot help but move to capture his mouth again. the son of his boss, just a few months' shy of his eighteenth birthday, is locked in graves' arms in his own room and with no one the wiser. credence asks him questions graves cannot answer, not if he wants to keep his job and all his limbs. ]
I can't answer that.
[ he mustn't. still, his lips haunt him, the softness of his mouth and the passion in his kiss, and he seeks him out again instead of answering, pushing him up against the immense window before taking another kiss for himself, more heated and passionate, aching to kiss the smugness off that exquisitely, boyishly handsome face.
this is what he wants. this is what he can never have; credence's heart, his desire, his full, unwavering attention. he knows how he yearns to spend hours with him like this, to know every inch of him intimately, to feel that nubile young body open up under him like a flower to the sun.
he pours all of that into the deep, sensuous, unyielding kiss, his tongue slipping into credence's mouth, sliding against his again, again and again, as if he cannot have enough. ]
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[ he aims for imperious but when graves' arm comes to wrap around him he trembles slightly, overtaken by the moment as he leans toward the older man, pressing into the kiss until it ends and when he exhales it's shaking. it's everything he's wanted - and when graves kisses him again something in him sings. ]
You can. You won't.
[ it's not sharp either, somehow. he can feel the cool glass at his back even through his clothing and he practically whines into the kiss, pressing into it and deepening it, teeth catching his lower lip and tongue brushing against tongue insistently. he wants this always, wants more than this, wants everything.
he only breaks the kiss when he needs to breathe, hands still on him though they've shifted so that he can rub his thumbs over graves' lapels. ] Please. [ it's soft and vulnerable and needy and he looks up at graves again, searching and wanting. ] I've wanted you for so long. Please.
[ for so long? how long has credence nursed these desires? they've worked together quite a while now, how old was credence when this began? ]
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[ graves is surprised, forgetting to answer to what credence wants, what he wants the young man to kiss him for. he doesn't move away from him, his gaze tracking over where his hands trail down is lapels, drawn to every small movement, every touch.
he's vulnerable, needy and soft, and graves cups his face to kiss him again, harder this time. he's addicted to the taste of him, he finds -- the kisses expose him for what he wants, and it's credence. young, pliable, passionate; he feels like a filthy old man, but he doesn't give a shit. ]
Tell me when you wanted me.
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but he knows he does, eventually. even so he buries his face in graves' shoulder briefly with a shake of his head before he finally speaks. ]
Almost since you started. Definitely since you treated me like a person instead of some annoying pet that needs looking after.
[ he's a little tense - that was some time ago. credence was... sixteen? then. no, not even. three weeks shy of sixteen the day graves became his companion and guard.
fifteen. no wonder he's a little embarrassed. it had just been a tiny puppy crush then of course, but it's blossomed into something more. ] Sorry.
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[ graves has more to be sorry about, when he cups his face and draws him forward, pulling him in to kiss him. ] I wanted you since the moment I saw you.
[ fifteen, young and lush and so impossibly beautiful that graves had steadily pushed that urge away, again and again, forcing it down and pretending it didn't exist. his kiss is harder now, more demanding, and he relishes the way credence pushes his body up against his, lean and lithe and so impossibly tempting that he has to take a breath when he breaks the kiss, eyes so dark with unfettered longing.
but he can't. he can't. credence's embarrassment is endearing, attractive, but he's the older of them both here, and even when the kiss is still warm on his lips, graves knows he has to be the one to have this under control. perhaps it's only a crush credence will grow out of. ] You haunt my thoughts when I'm not with you.
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[ rather than think graves needs to apologize, the knowledge feeling warm in his chest. he knows it was just want and not an emotion but it's still nice to know, something that makes him smile as he curls and uncurls his toes in his shoes, letting out a little hum.
all shyness gone, credence kisses graves back hungrily, one hand coming to rest at his nape and dragging nails gently across, aiming to make him react in some way.
but then graves pulls back and speaks and something tightens in him, hot and cold at once as it grips his heart. he wants that, wants graves to crave him always, and he leans up to press their foreheads together, almost sly but not quite. ] Do you like it? Thinking of me always? [ he licks his lips - this is a dangerous game they're playing. ] How do I haunt you?
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You don't need to know that, Credence. [ he brushes his mouth over his lightly. he doesn't need to know how he's the star of his filthiest dreams, his most impossible desires. ] You don't need to know how much I want you. How I'd kill to have your mouth on me. Or imagine what you'd look like spread wide on my bed, ripe for the taking.
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[ he noses a kiss to graves' jaw, to the corner of his mouth. ] I need to know everything.
[ there's a moment where he returns that gentle kiss but also tries to tease it into more - breathing out against his mouth and nipping at his lower lip, still as needy as ever. ] Don't stop kissing me.
[ credence rarely gives orders, but this certainly seems to be one. ] And tell me how you'd kill to have my mouth on you. How you imagine me naked and splayed, looking up at you while I wait for you to fill me--
[ suddenly he just smiles. ] I could show you, if you wanted. What that looks like.
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he gives him more, kissing him back, once and again, tongue pressing lightly against his own. ]
You don't know what you're saying. [ graves breathes, rough and harsher than he intends, because he's thinking about it, so hard in his pants but he's thinking of it, his lovely charge entirely naked, milk-white, smooth skin as he spreads his limbs, his cock hard and jutting proudly between his legs, and right there, spread before him, is a body ready to be fucked, to be ravished.
he swallows, his eyes dark and burning with unspoken desire. oh, how he wants to fuck him. ] You've never had a man before.
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instead he'll content himself with this, the roughness in graves' voice making him shiver. ] Is it a problem? To have never been with a man before you?
[ an easy confirmation to make. he leans to nip at his lower lip with a hum, looking as pleased as anything. ] Or are you going ot tell me to go practice on someone my age first?
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[ he says sharply, a little too quickly than he likes. the idea of credence doing this with someone else makes something dark twist in his chest, a kind of anger that he recognises. it's possessiveness, fierce and unyielding. credence is his, and the thought of anyone touching him, kissing him like he has makes him want to punch things.
preferably the perpetrator in question. but graves composes himself, and he brushes credence's hair back from his face, kissing him again, lips trailing over his jaw. ] None of them will know what they're doing. You deserve better.
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[ the show of possessiveness makes credence smile but he doesn't comment on it - instead he kisses him back, then stretches out his neck a bit to encourage graves' lips to move ever-lower with a soft whine. keep going, it goads, trying to see just how far-- ]
And it's all right if I don't know what I'm doing with you? By your logic, you deserve better if I don't have that kind of experience.
[ he doesn't seem put out by it - his fingers are trailing up and down his back and he smiles, raising his eyebrows even if graves can't see it. ] Unless those rules are different?
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[ graves confirms, because credence is being a little shit and as much as graves likes it, he enjoys getting to shut him up as well. and that he does when he sucks a little lovebite at his collarbone, marking pristine fair skin for himself because he can.
he undoes one button, two, testing and exploring, guilt and pleasure coiling in his chest -- it's dangerous and wrong, but the pull is so very potent. ] Do you want me to be your first, Credence? The first man to kiss you, to touch you, to whisper things in your ear you wish you could do.
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he wants more, more - exhaling shakily is just evidence of how much he wants it as his fingers tighten in his hair. otherwise he stays still for the way graves is toying with undoing his buttons, licking his lips. ] You're not my first kiss-- [ more acting like a little shit, but: ] You're definitely the first one that matters, the first good one. [ a pleasant hum, one hand trailing fingers down his shoulder briefly. ] I want everything you're willing to give me. Everything you'll let me drag right out of you.
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he has to smile at those promises and the provocation -- oh, he knows better than to rise to it, but he knows he has to stop. they have to stop, or graves will push it too far and do something they'll both possibly regret. ]
They're not as good as I am, and you know it.
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(to think, percival is courting someone that can still be grounded.)
credence's eyes on graves are dark and wanting. he's not thinking about potential regrets. he's thinking of how to get more. ] I just said you were the first good one, didn't I? Unless you'd like me to test it more.
[ both arms around his neck, pressing their foreheads together, ghosting his lips across the older man's: all meant to reel him in just a little more. ]
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[ graves says smoothly, pressing him up more comfortably against the glass as he leans down to kiss him once more, unable to have enough of his sweetness, the taste of him so potent and intoxicating. he's courting someone that can still be grounded, and in it is a dangerous, forbidden thrill.
a hand curving over his thigh, moving upwards ever so slowly, he gently coaxes the other's legs around him. ] You can't tell this to anyone. This has to be our little secret. You understand, don't you?
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[ on a hum. he doesn't want to kiss anyone else. just graves, who he wants to kiss endlessly. he's pliant in his arms, almost fae-like for how light and lanky he is. he crosses his ankles behind graves' back, kissing him back fervently as his hands come to cup his jaw.
this is what he wants after all, isn't it? ] I know. [ he sounds a little affronted, a little petulant. ] I'm not a child, I know when subtlety is required.
[ not a child is almost comical. then, imperious: ] Kiss me again. [ he tips up for one, eyes half-lidded. ] Do you like kissing me? You seem to think someone inexperienced doesn't make for a nice time.
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there is passion in their kisses, and he enjoys just how petulant he is, how he asserts himself and tells him he's not a child. ] I like kissing you. I like feeling the way you learn. Can you tell?
[ he murmurs. ] You're picking little tricks up from me already. [ he's kissing him again, a different way this time, tongue pressing up gently against tongue, easing into his mouth to explore him, as skilled as he is fervent in his desire for him. this is credence, giving himself over to him, innocent and untouched, and graves will have all of him. ]
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[ this is almost teasing and he kisses him again, teeth grazing his lower lip while he urges tongue against tongue again, hands gripping at his shoulders instead now. when he pulls back this time he nuzzles against him, taking a slow breath. ] I want to keep you by my side always. Swear to me you'll never leave me.
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he knows what he wants. his little prince, all his life pampered and spoiled, given what he wants when he wants it, wants him. and graves, who has had more than his fair share of lovers and casual flings, is aware of just what he's asking him. ]
I'm your bodyguard. [ he murmurs, brushing credence's dark hair, tucking it behind his ear. he's indulgent, wondering if credence really knows what he's talking about, what he's asking from him. ] I'll be with you for as long as I'm needed.
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You're far more than that. [ it's soft, murmured against his mouth, before he settles against him and rests his head on his shoulder. ] You've never been only a bodyguard. That's important, but the rest is important too.
[ he sighs, pressing a kiss to his jaw just below his ear. ] If you wanted to go I would let you. As much as I care for you and want you, it's not worth anything if I'm so cruel as to try and keep you here when you don't want to. You can walk away if you like, whenever you like. I just hope you'll stay.
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