[ credence may look utterly impassive during this but nothing could be further from the truth. one of the first things a mafioso is taught is to have the best poker face in the room and he's wearing it, standing slowly as the teacher gets kicked out of the room - he thinks he might fail the course now even though he had an a to begin with, but there are more important matters at hand. percival is angry, perhaps rightly so, but credence is angry as well. ]
Don't tell me what to do, Graves. [ graves. it's snapped out in annoyance but he's getting dressed anyway, tucking his shirt in and doing up his pants and making sure his hardness isn't apparent to an outside party.
he doesn't flinch in the face of the clear anger, stepping closer because he knows graves won't hurt him. can't hurt him even more than he apparently can't love him. it's that thought that makes credence finally frown and dip his head, brow furrowed and more than a little pained before he smooths it out again to look at him accusingly. ] You don't get to be angry with me. That's not how it works. [ it's sharp and openly bitter and he crosses his arms over his chest, still staring at him. there's hurt lurking in his eyes. so much for that poker face. ] Over and over again I try to give everything I am, everything I have to you, and every time you reject me. Every time.
[ he moves closer, gripping at the front of his clothing tightly. ] You know how much I want you. Do you realize how much of everything else? How I love you, how I want to give you everything I'd never given anyone else--still haven't given anyone else. I want it to be you.
Do you understand what I'm saying? Everything I've kept pristine, I want overtaken with you.
[ so, despite the childish dalliances, he's never actually slept with anyone. and he wants it to be graves that he finally does sleep with.
suddenly he's moving, totally ignoring the feeling of anger radiating off graves - the man he wants, the man he needs, the man he loves - and he wraps his arms around his neck, forehead dropping to his chest. ] You can't keep getting my hopes up only to dash them. It hurts me, Percival. Worse still to ignore me afterward and leave me to wonder if this is the last rejection, if you've finally gotten sick of me.
[ it's... possibly the most raw and open he's ever been, and he can't bear to look at graves' response to it. ]
[ it's open and raw and honest -- credence spills his heart out to him and graves feels something tug in his chest. there is anger, yes, but there is hurt, shining clear because credence is still so very young, still unable to stop wearing his heart on his sleeve. he absorbs all of it in silence; and in the face of credence's naked yearning, his overwhelming emotions, he's not entirely sure what to say. ]
You're still too young. [ he says at last, the one thing that he's said, over and over again, a hand coming to cup his face, to make credence look up at him. ] I want you, but this is wrong.
[ he says quietly. he could never be tired of him, not when all he thinks of when he closes his eyes is how credence kisses him, how credence wraps his arms around him and holds him tight, passionate and innocent all at once. innocent, especially -- the world will have plenty of chances to fuck with credence, to teach him difficult lessons, but right here, he has never been so genuine. graves can't help a fierce, undeniable flare of possessiveness as he looks down into his face. he should be better than this -- he isn't.
even when he tells credence they can't do this, they can't be this to each other -- he's still unable to stay away, which really fucks this up more than it already is. graves ends up hurting credence more than he means to, all because he can't control himself around him. and he can't -- credence comes to mean too much, and graves can't stop wanting him. credence is a siren's song, he is everything that keeps graves ensnared despite his best intentions, and he shakes his head. there are so many things he can say to this, but instead, he says: ]
That's always the excuse, like waiting a few more weeks, a few more months, turns it into something saintlike. I don't care. You're willing to kiss me, to get me off over the phone, but you won't let me touch you and you won't fuck me. Are those really that much more damning?
[ it's a lot for him to say on the matter - usually his protests are short and sharp and then he falls into sullen silences. not today.
he sighs, gripping tightly to graves and refusing to let him go. i love you, he doesn't repeat, instead closing his eyes and standing silently against him before snorting at the question presented to him. ] He's lucky I let him touch me at all. [ but then he's more solemn, shaking his head. ] No. He wanted to, but I wouldn't let him.
[ but why? how strange, the way a young mafioso's mind works. still, he lifts his head to nuzzle softly against graves' cheek. ] You should kiss me instead. You keep my body safe, so keep my heart safe too.
[ he seems very shy again suddenly in a way that both suits him and sits oddly on his countenance. he lifts one hand, looking at him as though he's memorizing each detail of his face as he brushes the backs of his fingers along his jaw. ] You're the only one I've ever wanted.
[ graves is the farthest thing from a saint. the things he imagines doing to him, with him, the sweetness of his whimpers and cries still ringing in his thoughts, his dirtiest fantasies. credence asks him to keep his heart safe and graves stifles a groan.
he must know what this does to him, how it erodes graves' own control, how it reduces it to bare tatters right here in the school bathroom. they can't do this here, but credence charms and beguiles and graves closes his eyes briefly, tamed for the moment under the touch of his knuckles.
graves has met and dealt with many an adversary in his time -- powerful and strong men and women who killed without a thought, and yet this seventeen year old is the one that manages to have him twined around his little finger.
he gathers himself, the last vestiges of his impressive iron control, jaw clenched with resisting the desire that burns and scorches, screaming for him to make him his. he lowers his head to capture his mouth with his, pushing him up against the smooth wood of the door, pinning him between it and his body.
graves is so hard, fiercely pleased when he realizes just how his young mafioso saved himself for him -- it's strange how dick-sucking is fine but everything else is out of bounds, but graves finds that he doesn't care as long as credence says he belongs to him.
he's fucked. he's so fucked. he wants so badly to be inside credence that he aches, and his hands move to cradle his face, sliding down to tuck credence's shirt back into his pants, brushing lightly over his cock. this is all he allows himself, this is all he can afford. ]
You'll be the death of me. [ he whispers heatedly against his mouth. ] You must know what you do to me.
[ credence is spoiled and needy and has driven away almost more bodyguards than you can count - but this one stays, the one he wants, the one he desires so wholly. he's always known where he stands in life and that includes not being denied. it's too normal, to get everything.
perhaps there's a bit of masochism buried beneath, not sexual but being startled and intrigued by being told no.
having graves so tightly wound is heady though and he thinks about it often - thinks about it now as he returns the kiss, leaning against the wood easily as he pulls the older man closer and lets out the tiniest moan against his mouth. yes: this, this, this. he wants more of this, burning against his mouth, vicious and needy and a little (a lot) wrong.
he can feel how hard graves is and credence aches to touch him, just barely refrains. the same way he just barely refrains from bucking toward graves' hand at that barely-there brush against his cock. he does let out a tiny whine though, sulky, something very familiar.
credence kisses graves again before he answers but this time it's softer, gentler. ] I don't want to be the death of you. I want you to need me always.
[ there's a hesitance in him suddenly and he slumps back against the door, looking up at him and pushing some hair out of his own face. ] Can we ever actually be together, Percival? It hurts.
[ credence is spoiled and needy but graves knows he's so much more than that. he's smart, kind, and has a quick wit and a charm that calls to him, a nature that draws graves in like a bee to honey. but he denies him because he must, because credence is a drug that courses through graves' veins, so very young and unspoiled and everything that he wants.
it's wrong, it's fucked up and graves has no business sniffing around credence like an alpha male ready to rut, and even that briefest touch against credence's cock sets every sense alight. it would be so easy to finish the job, to give him a handjob, to touch him and kiss him and make him come.
he whines, soft and tiny and he knows where that came from -- and it sends a jolt right down to his cock. but he stills, watching him and softening when credence asks the million dollar question, a soft sadness tinged in it. ]
I don't know. [ he says honestly. they can't, because credence will have to marry, to produce an heir -- they can't because he's his bodyguard, and no matter how exceptional he is at his job that's all he can be to him. he cups his face now, pressing his forehead to his before he meets his eyes. it hurts credence, and that's the last thing he wants to do. ] You know this can never happen between us in public. This is all we have.
[ credence wants to press into graves' hand as much as he wants to be that drug, to be everything that graves wants and more. instead he proves himself to somehow have an astounding amount of self control (telling of his upbringing - and telling of when things involve his resolve breaking) in that he just nuzzles close after all of this, bumping their noses together affectionately.
he wants...
he wants everything. graves is right but it isn't fair. he knows he has to have an heir but he doesn't give a shit. he doesn't, he doesn't. he wants this, wants graves, so much that the act of wanting hurts.
he closes his eyes. ] I just want us. Even if no one can ever know, I want us. It doesn't have to mean sneaking around in bathrooms or pretending to be nothing but colleagues. It means we're together constantly so no one has to know that we're more than they think. Do you understand what I mean?
[ credence is more mature than graves has initially given him credit for, understanding the complications that they face, and even if he can sometimes be impetuous and rash, he's displayed a lot of thought into this, his youthful passion a siren's song that keeps graves enthralled.
he wants him the same way, too -- to be by his side, to steal these moments from him, to walk with him as he grows and becomes the man he would one day be. his hand cups the back of his head, gently tilting him up as he captures his mouth against his again, the kiss surprisingly tender this time. he takes his time with him, and he nods, finally.
maybe. maybe this can work. maybe this is all that they need. after all, graves is not a child; he understands how these things go, and maybe an affair to pretty much fuck it out of their system is what they need.
or maybe that will entwine them deeper into each other; graves knows he has to take that bet. he has to; he doesn't know what else can excise credence from his mind, his heart, even if he wants to. ]
You'll regret it one day, you know. [ he says quietly, before kissing his forehead, knowing that he'll fall in love with him, absorbing his young charge's affections before he murmurs. ] Let's get in the car. It's not safe here.
[ credence leans into the kiss and returns it as though a flower growing toward the sun. perhaps he is - perhaps the older man is a ray of sunshine in a world of darkness surrounding credence even if that means his way of measuring these things is... off.
he smiles a little. graves may think that 'fucking it out of their systems' is something that could potentially actually happen, but credence is already deeply in love with him - there's no going to for him.
in any case he steals another kiss - and another, and another - before shaking his head. ] I don't think I will. I'll be the judge of whether I'll regret something or not. I'm not letting you leave me until one or the both of us are dead, so we'll see, won't we?
[ he smiles a little, wry, before standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ] All right. Out to the car it is.
[ they get to the car quickly enough -- the teacher has somehow escaped from notice, but graves doesn't care, and he doesn't intend to report this when it seems like credence is the one who's initiated it, more than happy to use him as a plaything until graves comes along. it's a strange sort of flattering, and when they enter the car he raises the privacy screen, blocking the driver from listening or seeing to anything that they say.
here, in the privacy of this little space, they have just under half an hour, and graves doesn't waste time, tugging him towards him by his collar and claiming his mouth with his again, his hand sliding up under his shirt to smooth over his back.
until death it is, he decides -- credence won't let him go, and graves won't, either. he just isn't sure if it's love or obsession or both, and he doesn't care. ]
[ one thing about credence is that given an inch, he'll--he won't take a mile, no, but he'll clutch onto that inch and won't miss the opportunity for it. graves belongs to him and always will; the fact that he seems to finally be giving in is just icing on the cake.
credence surges forward when he's pulled, returning the kiss fervently and cradling the older man's jaw in both hands (feather light, barely there) as he shifts to sit on his lap, both legs to one side of him. he says nothing because he doesn't need to. he just lets the way his teeth tug at graves' lower lip do the talking for him. ]
[ credence is as ferocious a predator as they come, and graves thinks his father will be proud of him; but perhaps a lot less proud of the fact that his son wants to jump his bodyguard's bones. graves doesn't care -- he doesn't miss a beat when he sits on his lap and straddles him, and graves kisses him hard, parting his mouth and drawing credence into him, pushing back when he does.
he knows what he's doing, how to ignite lust and stir passion, and he wants to do it all to credence. unbuttoning the teen's shirt, he drops his kisses to the pale expanse of his chest revealed, lips pressed against a nipple, then the other. ]
[ this kiss is met in like kind and credence moans softly into it, lips and teeth and tongue - that is, until graves drops his attentions lower and he arches toward the older man's mouth, teeth digging into his own lower lip this time. ] Percival.
[ it's just for the sake of saying it. then he grins breathlessly, shaking his head minutely. ] No.
[ an open refusal: rare but still possible, of course. ] Do it for me, Percival.
[ graves does as his imperious little prince asks, unzipping his trousers, his hand slipping in to draw him out. he loves the sweet little moan he makes when he presses his against his nipple, and he sucks a gentle lovebite right above it. he thinks of the teacher, how he had been so eager to suck credence's cock that he was willing to kneel before him in the bathroom for it -- and he understands.
he understand the pull that credence has, aand his fingers press hard onto his hip in retaliation, punishment for credence straying from him, finding solace in another man. he presses hard enough to leave faint bruises. good, then he'll remember him.
he raises his head, fingers wrapping around his cock to stroke. ] I'm going to get you off right here. You must still be aching for it. Did you like how he sucked you off?
[ credence is pliant under graves' hands, moving and curling close and nuzzling into his neck. he accepts his punishment with a faint whine - later he'll touch the bruises before the mirror reverently, brushing his fingers over them and remembering the feel of fingers pressing hard into his hip.
he's distracted by the hand on his cock, though--despite all of the verbal teasing and even the obscene calls--this is new, this is brand new and credence draws in a shaking breath, clutching close to him with trembling fingers. he feels stupid and childlike but it's just that he's wanted it so long and the idea of actually getting this is a little overwhelming.
and first he lets out on a moan: ] Really? You're--ah--not going to stop and tell me we can't? [ it's not biting, but he doesn't want to get riled up for this worse than usual just to have it end abruptly again. as for the question... ] He's pretty good at it but I wasn't enjoying myself until I pretended it was you.
[ a pause and he looks away, embarrassed. ] I almost came when I saw you there but he doesn't deserve it.
[ credence is always earnestly, sweetly honest where this is concerned, he thinks -- like he's aching to please, to earn affection, and he's warm like a kitten seeking love, when he curls up against him like this. the whine is absolutely endearing, and he can't help but nuzzle right back against him.
the car ride is smooth, and he's jerking him off, deliberate and firm, his palm coming to fondle his balls, heavy with arousal. it's exhilarating to know the effect that he has on him, how despite everything credence is damn well out of his depth and he knows it. he's so very young, and graves shakes his head, biting the bullet because he's waited long enough, and no one will know.
seeing credence with the teacher in his mind's eye makes his possessiveness flare anew, and he can't help but grip him tighter, grasping his chin to make him look back at him again. graves' eyes are dark, certain. ],/small> No, not today.
[ he can't make any promises for what comes after, but now -- all he wants is credence. ] You really wanted that to be me. Sucking you off, swallowing every drop you give me. My lips tight around your cock.
[ even with the partition up he knows he has to be quiet and so his moans are soft and breathy even though his hips are rocking up into graves' hand rhythmically and he's looking back at him quietly with parted lips as he's guided to stop looking away. he wants to say something, anything, but graves is promising that he's not going to stop for now and it makes something in him twist pleasantly - uncertain but wanting.
there's something sly that returns to him then before he nods, lifting his head to kiss graves firmly, insistently, before he runs the very tip of his tongue along his jaw to under his ear. ] I've wanted that for ages now. I've wanted to feel your hands on me, your mouth, making me come until I can't any more.
[ one hand moves to run fingers through his hair and he looks a little embarrassed again, unsure. ] Is it really all right that I don't know what I'm doing past this? I think about it a lot-- [ a gasping moan, hips jerking. ] That maybe I should let you have someone that can do things right. But I can't let you go.
[ graves is silent, efficient and practiced when he holds him and keeps him steady, drawing him towards him -- credence is hypnotising, intoxicating when he enjoys himself, that sly light in his eyes a part of why graves is so gone for him the way he is. credence is the perfect blend of shy but wicked, innocent but so very ripe to be taught, to be ravished.
that graves would be the man to do it is a high honor, and he smiles, leaning into his touch as he continues, reveling in the way he fondles his balls, warm and heavy, the thickness and length of his cock. graves is hungry for him, and his thumb rubs up and down the thick vein on the underside of his cock. ]
Then don't. [ he tells him. ] I'm going to show you how to please a man, Credence. You'll be good at this before you know it, and I'll be the only person you'll do this with. [ he murmurs, pushing two fingers between credence's lips and into his mouth. ] Suck. Make it all nice and wet.
[ credence is so scatterbrained like this, trying to keep his focus when all he wants to do is all this and more, more--graves' hand on his cock, more rocking his hips into the touches, more gentle tugging at the older man's hair. he shifts, placing an open-mouthed kiss to graves' adam's apple before lifting his head just in time to find himself with fingers being coaxed into his mouth.
his lips part obediently and he nods slightly before he complies, taking both of them in as far as he can, sucking at them obscenely and digging his nails into graves' shoulder. his eyes flutter closed and he moans softly around them, squirming because despite everything it's not enough and he wants all he can drag out of graves.
when he pulls back a little it's to nip playfully at the tips of his fingers with a little hum though he's definitely made sure to follow orders, a thin strand of saliva connecting his lips and graves' fingers until he pulls far enough away to break the connection. then he's licking his lips, grinning. ] Are you telling me you're mine, then?
[ graves concedes, watching those reddened lips and the way he looks at him when he pulls away, lips wet like his fingers, and he's leaning forward to kiss him, drawing his tongue into his mouth, slow and sensuous and deliberate, before his slick fingers track underneath his balls, index finger circling the tight little pucker of his hole.
he doesn't hesitate with him, pressing into him, feeling the give and stretch and knowing to take it slow. this is the farthest he's ever got with him, and he's going to go further. credence is ready for it, he thinks -- he can never forget the sounds he made when graves had bid him to fuck himself on his fingers. their conversation had been obscene, delightfully so, and graves feels his hunger stirring at the delicious memory.
now, he's doing it to him, slowly pushing past the knuckle, coming to bury it inside that ridiculously tight heat. he's never been fucked, graves knows -- and here is the truth. here is the way his body closes around him like he's aching to be fucked, and he rubs the heel of his palm against credence's balls, time and again.
credence drags the best and worst out of him, and this is no exception. ]
Only maybe? [ it's teasing but fond - he's happy with the answer, as evidenced by the way he curls closer in the wake of it.
he's immediately distracted though, sucking in a harsh breath as soon as graves' finger begins to press into him. his fingers are thicker than credence's are and he squirms just a little with a whine, taking a couple of breaths. but it's good too, a soft moan lost against his neck. he tries his best to relax but his body tenses slightly despite his best efforts at times - which just causes him to tighten more around graves' finger. ]
It's what I've wanted for so long now— [ he whines softly on the tail end of a moan, back arching as he rocks back against the finger inside him, the palm rubbing against his balls. ] It feels so good. I want this, I want so much. [ a soft and shaking breath again, hands grasping at his shoulders. ] More. Please.
[ graves drawls, just as fond, his eyes gentle despite his words. he's taking him in, the very sight of him when he accommodates his finger -- just the one first, to see if he can take it well -- and he appreciates how credence is so willing, his whines and moans soft and sweet, music to is ears. credence is born for this, made to be ravished, pleased, created for carnal delights and it's impossible that he wouldn't realize it.
look at him, tightening around his finger. graves' breath catches, and he continues his ministrations, intent on providing pleasure, and he leans forward to bite his bottom lip. ] Quiet. [ and there, right there, he's starting to fingerfuck him in slow, deliberate strokes. ]
You know you shouldn't be making these noises. [ no matter how much graves loves them. ] Don't make me gag you.
[ he's still clutching at him and the order makes him let out a breathy laugh - on a moan, even, though he quiets after that. it's so different with someone else doing it - the whole thing feels different, like he hasn't known any kind of pleasure until now.
he's trying so hard to be quiet, biting down on his lip hard and continuing to rock back against him. he wants more but he doesn't know how to articulate it past that single word. eventually he brings his lips closer to the older man's ear to murmur. ] More. Use another. [ it's barely audible and he bites down on graves' shoulder immediately afterward to stifle another moan. ]
[ graves muses in open agreement, his mouth finding the line of his neck before he sucks a gently lovebite there. outside of the car, there is life going on all around them -- people going about their daily life, none of them aware of the fact that his little prince is getting fingerfucked in the back of the car.
he can hear it now, the soft muffled moan buried against his shoulder, and he pushes another finger in as bid. he knows he has to be careful, he's bigger than credence's fingers, and he takes care when he stretches him a little more, testing his limits, leaning up to gently nip at his earlobe. ]
I've wanted you to do this for a long time. [ murmured. he sounds a little far-off, lost in the pleasure mixing with a little pain from being stretched - more discomfort than anything because it's bigger than he's used to.
he loves him, he really does, and he can't help but whisper it against his ear before leaning into the nip to his own earlobe. ] I'd imagine it was you while I did it.
[ still whispering, his back arching to urge into the thrusts. ] Sometimes I'd work up to three fingers and pretend— [ he cuts off on a soft noise, burying this one against graves as well. ] I wanted it to be you so badly. To feel you inside me.
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Don't tell me what to do, Graves. [ graves. it's snapped out in annoyance but he's getting dressed anyway, tucking his shirt in and doing up his pants and making sure his hardness isn't apparent to an outside party.
he doesn't flinch in the face of the clear anger, stepping closer because he knows graves won't hurt him. can't hurt him even more than he apparently can't love him. it's that thought that makes credence finally frown and dip his head, brow furrowed and more than a little pained before he smooths it out again to look at him accusingly. ] You don't get to be angry with me. That's not how it works. [ it's sharp and openly bitter and he crosses his arms over his chest, still staring at him. there's hurt lurking in his eyes. so much for that poker face. ] Over and over again I try to give everything I am, everything I have to you, and every time you reject me. Every time.
[ he moves closer, gripping at the front of his clothing tightly. ] You know how much I want you. Do you realize how much of everything else? How I love you, how I want to give you everything I'd never given anyone else--still haven't given anyone else. I want it to be you.
Do you understand what I'm saying? Everything I've kept pristine, I want overtaken with you.
[ so, despite the childish dalliances, he's never actually slept with anyone. and he wants it to be graves that he finally does sleep with.
suddenly he's moving, totally ignoring the feeling of anger radiating off graves - the man he wants, the man he needs, the man he loves - and he wraps his arms around his neck, forehead dropping to his chest. ] You can't keep getting my hopes up only to dash them. It hurts me, Percival. Worse still to ignore me afterward and leave me to wonder if this is the last rejection, if you've finally gotten sick of me.
[ it's... possibly the most raw and open he's ever been, and he can't bear to look at graves' response to it. ]
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You're still too young. [ he says at last, the one thing that he's said, over and over again, a hand coming to cup his face, to make credence look up at him. ] I want you, but this is wrong.
[ he says quietly. he could never be tired of him, not when all he thinks of when he closes his eyes is how credence kisses him, how credence wraps his arms around him and holds him tight, passionate and innocent all at once. innocent, especially -- the world will have plenty of chances to fuck with credence, to teach him difficult lessons, but right here, he has never been so genuine. graves can't help a fierce, undeniable flare of possessiveness as he looks down into his face. he should be better than this -- he isn't.
even when he tells credence they can't do this, they can't be this to each other -- he's still unable to stay away, which really fucks this up more than it already is. graves ends up hurting credence more than he means to, all because he can't control himself around him. and he can't -- credence comes to mean too much, and graves can't stop wanting him. credence is a siren's song, he is everything that keeps graves ensnared despite his best intentions, and he shakes his head. there are so many things he can say to this, but instead, he says: ]
Did he kiss you?
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[ it's a lot for him to say on the matter - usually his protests are short and sharp and then he falls into sullen silences. not today.
he sighs, gripping tightly to graves and refusing to let him go. i love you, he doesn't repeat, instead closing his eyes and standing silently against him before snorting at the question presented to him. ] He's lucky I let him touch me at all. [ but then he's more solemn, shaking his head. ] No. He wanted to, but I wouldn't let him.
[ but why? how strange, the way a young mafioso's mind works. still, he lifts his head to nuzzle softly against graves' cheek. ] You should kiss me instead. You keep my body safe, so keep my heart safe too.
[ he seems very shy again suddenly in a way that both suits him and sits oddly on his countenance. he lifts one hand, looking at him as though he's memorizing each detail of his face as he brushes the backs of his fingers along his jaw. ] You're the only one I've ever wanted.
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he must know what this does to him, how it erodes graves' own control, how it reduces it to bare tatters right here in the school bathroom. they can't do this here, but credence charms and beguiles and graves closes his eyes briefly, tamed for the moment under the touch of his knuckles.
graves has met and dealt with many an adversary in his time -- powerful and strong men and women who killed without a thought, and yet this seventeen year old is the one that manages to have him twined around his little finger.
he gathers himself, the last vestiges of his impressive iron control, jaw clenched with resisting the desire that burns and scorches, screaming for him to make him his. he lowers his head to capture his mouth with his, pushing him up against the smooth wood of the door, pinning him between it and his body.
graves is so hard, fiercely pleased when he realizes just how his young mafioso saved himself for him -- it's strange how dick-sucking is fine but everything else is out of bounds, but graves finds that he doesn't care as long as credence says he belongs to him.
he's fucked. he's so fucked. he wants so badly to be inside credence that he aches, and his hands move to cradle his face, sliding down to tuck credence's shirt back into his pants, brushing lightly over his cock. this is all he allows himself, this is all he can afford. ]
You'll be the death of me. [ he whispers heatedly against his mouth. ] You must know what you do to me.
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perhaps there's a bit of masochism buried beneath, not sexual but being startled and intrigued by being told no.
having graves so tightly wound is heady though and he thinks about it often - thinks about it now as he returns the kiss, leaning against the wood easily as he pulls the older man closer and lets out the tiniest moan against his mouth. yes: this, this, this. he wants more of this, burning against his mouth, vicious and needy and a little (a lot) wrong.
he can feel how hard graves is and credence aches to touch him, just barely refrains. the same way he just barely refrains from bucking toward graves' hand at that barely-there brush against his cock. he does let out a tiny whine though, sulky, something very familiar.
credence kisses graves again before he answers but this time it's softer, gentler. ] I don't want to be the death of you. I want you to need me always.
[ there's a hesitance in him suddenly and he slumps back against the door, looking up at him and pushing some hair out of his own face. ] Can we ever actually be together, Percival? It hurts.
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it's wrong, it's fucked up and graves has no business sniffing around credence like an alpha male ready to rut, and even that briefest touch against credence's cock sets every sense alight. it would be so easy to finish the job, to give him a handjob, to touch him and kiss him and make him come.
he whines, soft and tiny and he knows where that came from -- and it sends a jolt right down to his cock. but he stills, watching him and softening when credence asks the million dollar question, a soft sadness tinged in it. ]
I don't know. [ he says honestly. they can't, because credence will have to marry, to produce an heir -- they can't because he's his bodyguard, and no matter how exceptional he is at his job that's all he can be to him. he cups his face now, pressing his forehead to his before he meets his eyes. it hurts credence, and that's the last thing he wants to do. ] You know this can never happen between us in public. This is all we have.
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he wants...
he wants everything. graves is right but it isn't fair. he knows he has to have an heir but he doesn't give a shit. he doesn't, he doesn't. he wants this, wants graves, so much that the act of wanting hurts.
he closes his eyes. ] I just want us. Even if no one can ever know, I want us. It doesn't have to mean sneaking around in bathrooms or pretending to be nothing but colleagues. It means we're together constantly so no one has to know that we're more than they think. Do you understand what I mean?
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[ credence is more mature than graves has initially given him credit for, understanding the complications that they face, and even if he can sometimes be impetuous and rash, he's displayed a lot of thought into this, his youthful passion a siren's song that keeps graves enthralled.
he wants him the same way, too -- to be by his side, to steal these moments from him, to walk with him as he grows and becomes the man he would one day be. his hand cups the back of his head, gently tilting him up as he captures his mouth against his again, the kiss surprisingly tender this time. he takes his time with him, and he nods, finally.
maybe. maybe this can work. maybe this is all that they need. after all, graves is not a child; he understands how these things go, and maybe an affair to pretty much fuck it out of their system is what they need.
or maybe that will entwine them deeper into each other; graves knows he has to take that bet. he has to; he doesn't know what else can excise credence from his mind, his heart, even if he wants to. ]
You'll regret it one day, you know. [ he says quietly, before kissing his forehead, knowing that he'll fall in love with him, absorbing his young charge's affections before he murmurs. ] Let's get in the car. It's not safe here.
[ not for what he wants to do to him. ]
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he smiles a little. graves may think that 'fucking it out of their systems' is something that could potentially actually happen, but credence is already deeply in love with him - there's no going to for him.
in any case he steals another kiss - and another, and another - before shaking his head. ] I don't think I will. I'll be the judge of whether I'll regret something or not. I'm not letting you leave me until one or the both of us are dead, so we'll see, won't we?
[ he smiles a little, wry, before standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. ] All right. Out to the car it is.
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here, in the privacy of this little space, they have just under half an hour, and graves doesn't waste time, tugging him towards him by his collar and claiming his mouth with his again, his hand sliding up under his shirt to smooth over his back.
until death it is, he decides -- credence won't let him go, and graves won't, either. he just isn't sure if it's love or obsession or both, and he doesn't care. ]
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credence surges forward when he's pulled, returning the kiss fervently and cradling the older man's jaw in both hands (feather light, barely there) as he shifts to sit on his lap, both legs to one side of him. he says nothing because he doesn't need to. he just lets the way his teeth tug at graves' lower lip do the talking for him. ]
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he knows what he's doing, how to ignite lust and stir passion, and he wants to do it all to credence. unbuttoning the teen's shirt, he drops his kisses to the pale expanse of his chest revealed, lips pressed against a nipple, then the other. ]
Unzip.
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[ it's just for the sake of saying it. then he grins breathlessly, shaking his head minutely. ] No.
[ an open refusal: rare but still possible, of course. ] Do it for me, Percival.
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he understand the pull that credence has, aand his fingers press hard onto his hip in retaliation, punishment for credence straying from him, finding solace in another man. he presses hard enough to leave faint bruises. good, then he'll remember him.
he raises his head, fingers wrapping around his cock to stroke. ] I'm going to get you off right here. You must still be aching for it. Did you like how he sucked you off?
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he's distracted by the hand on his cock, though--despite all of the verbal teasing and even the obscene calls--this is new, this is brand new and credence draws in a shaking breath, clutching close to him with trembling fingers. he feels stupid and childlike but it's just that he's wanted it so long and the idea of actually getting this is a little overwhelming.
and first he lets out on a moan: ] Really? You're--ah--not going to stop and tell me we can't? [ it's not biting, but he doesn't want to get riled up for this worse than usual just to have it end abruptly again. as for the question... ] He's pretty good at it but I wasn't enjoying myself until I pretended it was you.
[ a pause and he looks away, embarrassed. ] I almost came when I saw you there but he doesn't deserve it.
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the car ride is smooth, and he's jerking him off, deliberate and firm, his palm coming to fondle his balls, heavy with arousal. it's exhilarating to know the effect that he has on him, how despite everything credence is damn well out of his depth and he knows it. he's so very young, and graves shakes his head, biting the bullet because he's waited long enough, and no one will know.
seeing credence with the teacher in his mind's eye makes his possessiveness flare anew, and he can't help but grip him tighter, grasping his chin to make him look back at him again. graves' eyes are dark, certain. ],/small> No, not today.
[ he can't make any promises for what comes after, but now -- all he wants is credence. ] You really wanted that to be me. Sucking you off, swallowing every drop you give me. My lips tight around your cock.
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there's something sly that returns to him then before he nods, lifting his head to kiss graves firmly, insistently, before he runs the very tip of his tongue along his jaw to under his ear. ] I've wanted that for ages now. I've wanted to feel your hands on me, your mouth, making me come until I can't any more.
[ one hand moves to run fingers through his hair and he looks a little embarrassed again, unsure. ] Is it really all right that I don't know what I'm doing past this? I think about it a lot-- [ a gasping moan, hips jerking. ] That maybe I should let you have someone that can do things right. But I can't let you go.
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that graves would be the man to do it is a high honor, and he smiles, leaning into his touch as he continues, reveling in the way he fondles his balls, warm and heavy, the thickness and length of his cock. graves is hungry for him, and his thumb rubs up and down the thick vein on the underside of his cock. ]
Then don't. [ he tells him. ] I'm going to show you how to please a man, Credence. You'll be good at this before you know it, and I'll be the only person you'll do this with. [ he murmurs, pushing two fingers between credence's lips and into his mouth. ] Suck. Make it all nice and wet.
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his lips part obediently and he nods slightly before he complies, taking both of them in as far as he can, sucking at them obscenely and digging his nails into graves' shoulder. his eyes flutter closed and he moans softly around them, squirming because despite everything it's not enough and he wants all he can drag out of graves.
when he pulls back a little it's to nip playfully at the tips of his fingers with a little hum though he's definitely made sure to follow orders, a thin strand of saliva connecting his lips and graves' fingers until he pulls far enough away to break the connection. then he's licking his lips, grinning. ] Are you telling me you're mine, then?
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[ graves concedes, watching those reddened lips and the way he looks at him when he pulls away, lips wet like his fingers, and he's leaning forward to kiss him, drawing his tongue into his mouth, slow and sensuous and deliberate, before his slick fingers track underneath his balls, index finger circling the tight little pucker of his hole.
he doesn't hesitate with him, pressing into him, feeling the give and stretch and knowing to take it slow. this is the farthest he's ever got with him, and he's going to go further. credence is ready for it, he thinks -- he can never forget the sounds he made when graves had bid him to fuck himself on his fingers. their conversation had been obscene, delightfully so, and graves feels his hunger stirring at the delicious memory.
now, he's doing it to him, slowly pushing past the knuckle, coming to bury it inside that ridiculously tight heat. he's never been fucked, graves knows -- and here is the truth. here is the way his body closes around him like he's aching to be fucked, and he rubs the heel of his palm against credence's balls, time and again.
credence drags the best and worst out of him, and this is no exception. ]
Tell me how you like this.
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he's immediately distracted though, sucking in a harsh breath as soon as graves' finger begins to press into him. his fingers are thicker than credence's are and he squirms just a little with a whine, taking a couple of breaths. but it's good too, a soft moan lost against his neck. he tries his best to relax but his body tenses slightly despite his best efforts at times - which just causes him to tighten more around graves' finger. ]
It's what I've wanted for so long now— [ he whines softly on the tail end of a moan, back arching as he rocks back against the finger inside him, the palm rubbing against his balls. ] It feels so good. I want this, I want so much. [ a soft and shaking breath again, hands grasping at his shoulders. ] More. Please.
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[ graves drawls, just as fond, his eyes gentle despite his words. he's taking him in, the very sight of him when he accommodates his finger -- just the one first, to see if he can take it well -- and he appreciates how credence is so willing, his whines and moans soft and sweet, music to is ears. credence is born for this, made to be ravished, pleased, created for carnal delights and it's impossible that he wouldn't realize it.
look at him, tightening around his finger. graves' breath catches, and he continues his ministrations, intent on providing pleasure, and he leans forward to bite his bottom lip. ] Quiet. [ and there, right there, he's starting to fingerfuck him in slow, deliberate strokes. ]
You know you shouldn't be making these noises. [ no matter how much graves loves them. ] Don't make me gag you.
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[ he's still clutching at him and the order makes him let out a breathy laugh - on a moan, even, though he quiets after that. it's so different with someone else doing it - the whole thing feels different, like he hasn't known any kind of pleasure until now.
he's trying so hard to be quiet, biting down on his lip hard and continuing to rock back against him. he wants more but he doesn't know how to articulate it past that single word. eventually he brings his lips closer to the older man's ear to murmur. ] More. Use another. [ it's barely audible and he bites down on graves' shoulder immediately afterward to stifle another moan. ]
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[ graves muses in open agreement, his mouth finding the line of his neck before he sucks a gently lovebite there. outside of the car, there is life going on all around them -- people going about their daily life, none of them aware of the fact that his little prince is getting fingerfucked in the back of the car.
he can hear it now, the soft muffled moan buried against his shoulder, and he pushes another finger in as bid. he knows he has to be careful, he's bigger than credence's fingers, and he takes care when he stretches him a little more, testing his limits, leaning up to gently nip at his earlobe. ]
I've wanted to do this for a long time.
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he loves him, he really does, and he can't help but whisper it against his ear before leaning into the nip to his own earlobe. ] I'd imagine it was you while I did it.
[ still whispering, his back arching to urge into the thrusts. ] Sometimes I'd work up to three fingers and pretend— [ he cuts off on a soft noise, burying this one against graves as well. ] I wanted it to be you so badly. To feel you inside me.
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