[ credence doesn't startle at graves' approach - he just looks at him in the mirror, eyes following his every movement. he's quiet, leaning back into his grasp and closing his eyes just for a brief moment before he opens them again, meeting his gaze. ] I love you.
[ that's all he says for a moment before he's shifting, gently lifting an arm to cradle graves' jaw after he stretches out his neck for that kiss. ] Mm. Only because I let you have me.
[ he's not being contrary in the least - it's clear he's using it as a means of asserting that he's a person, that he has agency, that graves knows how to treat him right, would never do anything he didn't want to, would let him walk away if he wanted - and that's why he doesn't want to. because graves remembers that he's a person and not a plaything.
he manages a tiny smile, some of the tension draining from him. ] I don't want to think about him any more. I just want to think of you. Remind me. Just—gently. I feel like I could shatter, tonight.
[ gently, he says, and graves understands. he knows what credence is doing, how he's asserting himself, and tonight he will be gentle. he hums in agreement when he says that he lets him have him -- because it's true, because graves respects him, refusing to so much as touch him until he explicitly wants it.
the kiss lingers, and his hands move over his body, smoothing over his hips, his stomach, his chest, mapping out every inch of him under his hands. ] Because you let me have you. [ he reiterates. ] A fact I'm grateful for every day. I would kiss every inch of you if I could, worship at your altar. You made the choice to give yourself to me, didn't you? That was all you.
[ his free hand comes to grasp his cock, fingers closing around his shaft to jerk him off, slow and steady, and gently nudging credence to watch as he pleases him. graves lays soft kisses over his shoulder now, gently nibbling at his ear. ] Look at you. This is what you let me do with you.
[ credence clicks his tongue lightly when graves doesn't return the affection verbally but it's all right for now - he's letting his actions speak for him as usual, and in this instance it isn't misplaced at all.
still, he smiles at what his older lever does say. ] I'm no saint or god. You're worshiping at the altar of nothing more than a man. Does that suit you, Percival Graves? [ it's not a question because he knows it does: that every inch of graves is suited to worship him personally just as much as he's suited to do the complimentary worship of graves himself.
credence shifts how he stands, legs spreading just slightly where he has his feet planted so that he can watch him with lidded eyes and parted lips. he stretches out his neck too, breathing out a sigh that's clearly a quiet moan. ]
And I love it, holding that much power. Over myself, over what happens to me, over who gets to touch me, to love me.
[ it suits him, and while graves doesn't profess it often if at all, he's willing to indulge, to press his mouth against the line of his troat, meeting his eyes in the mirror. he's kissing over the ugly lovebites, the ones stolen without permission, and he's claiming it as his own.
he's continuing to stroke him, fingers curling to fondle his balls, making credence watch as he pleases him, thumb rubbing up and down the underside of his shaft as he keeps him on display. teeth scraping over his earlobe, his next words are a low, purring rumble. ]
Let me love you. [ he says quietly, his other hand coming to track up his stomach, over his chest, brushing over a nipple before lightly, playfully pinching it. ] That power is all yours. [ he wants to return it to him, the agency, the leverage -- the man had stolen more than just kisses from his credence, and he intends to make him pay for all of it. relishing the soft moan, he presses up against his ass, already half hard in his tailored trousers. ]
[ each time graves so much as touches one of the marks credence shivers - not from a pleasant memory, but from the fact that his lover is helping him to associate them with something better, with graves himself.
he's squirmed back against him by the time graves speaks in earnest, nodding and letting out a breathless little laugh. ] Please. [ it's happy, not mocking - he turns his head to blindly kiss at graves' jaw, nuzzling there a moment to emphasize.
the attention to his cock and balls isn't forgotten either, another quiet moan escaping as he rocks back against him just slightly. ] Love me. Like I said, gentle. Kiss me and fuck me and love me. That's all I've ever wanted, anyway. [ one hand slips between them to palm over the front of graves' trousers, letting out a tiny pleased hum despite himself. ] Getting hard for me already, baby?
[ graves' words are uttered against the curve of his neck, picking up on his shivers when he starts to slowly reclaim him, to mark him as his own. credence belongs to him because he wants to, and his giddy little laugh is proof enough of his favor and pleasure.
rocking into his hand with a soft groan, graves tugs the zipper down and eases his cock out for his lover. he will kiss him, fuck him, love him, and graves wants to coax him out as well -- this goes both ways, and he reminds him of it when he guides credence's hand around his cock and he thrusts into it like he's fucking the circle of his fingers, a promise he makes. ]
You make me hard, you know that. [ he moves up to capture his mouth with his, thumb rubbing deliberate circles against the sensitive slit of credence's cock. ] You make me want to slide up inside you and never stop until you're dripping with me. I'm going to do this gently tonight, and I will remind you that you are all mine.
[ he takes a breath and reaches up, pushing two fingers between his young lover's lush, full lips. ]
[ whenever graves says it, credence's smile is like the sun coming out from behind clouds and this is no different. he breathes out shaking and smiles brightly, nuzzling close to him and closing his eyes briefly. it's so much, it's everything, it's just for him. ] I love you so much.
[ credence's grip on graves' cock is firm as he lets him fuck into his hand before he squeezes down at the base, stroking toward himself with a firm, slow urge of his hand as a promise of his own. ] I know. I like feeling it. [ he's about to say something else but it's lost on a moan, his hips bucking toward graves' touch. ] I want to do it here. In front of the mirror. Sitting. I want to see everything.
[ he's leaning back flush against the older man, letting a gentle rock against his cock speak further for him. he parts his lips obediently, drawing graves' fingers into his mouth with something that's undeniably hungry as he sucks at them, one hand moving to grasp his wrist so that he can bob his head slightly, tongue lapping up them once before he forces them to scissor apart slightly with an urgent press between them, moaning softly around them. he's trying to make it clear how much he wants this - to make himself remember just how much this is exactly what he's craving. ]
[ graves will have to draw out the chair that's behind them, but it matters little now when he's watching, feeling credence lick and suck on his fingers, scissoring them with his hot, wet tongue that sends a powerful jolt of arousal right to his cock. credence's smile is bright as the sun, warmer than he's seen the entire evening, and graves feels immediately protective, knowing that there's no way credence's attacker will be able to run once he gets his hands on him.
this -- he is precious, yielding and eager, and he slips his cock between his thighs with a quiet little sigh, so very hard and rubbing up against credence's balls, the underside of his cock. his young lover's thighs are smooth, soft, closing around his dick in a way that makes him wild. but he has to be the one in control tonight, to soothe frayed nerves, to remind credence of all that matters.
he's pulling his slick fingers out eventually, gently nudging him to brace himself against the mirror as he circles his tight, puckered little hole with two fingers, pushing the first in, slick with saliva, and keeping a close eye on him in the mirror. the last thing he wants to do is hurt credence, especially when he's moaning so sweetly, obviously eager to have more.
graves smiles briefly, nuzzling against him before his finger sinks in entirely, buried deep inside that tight, tight heat. ]
Look at you. Lean forward, sweetheart. Do you see how hard your cock is between your legs?
[ credence is concentrating hard on the moment - he's feeling a little scattered suddenly, but when graves' cock slips between his legs credence snaps to attention, licking his lips and tightening his thighs slightly around him to make the movement all the more pleasurable for his lover. it's pleasurable for him too, though - enjoyable friction against the underside of his cock, across his balls, making him moan softly, still muffled around his fingers.
taking both of them in all the way isn't quite so impressive as doing the same with graves' cock but the sentiment is there and they both know he can, anyway. he knows this is about him, though - he takes a slow breath when the older man pulls his fingers free, licking his lips and leaning forward as he's told. his hands press to either edge of the mirror and grasp at it as he rests his forehead to the glass, looking down at himself in the reflection. ] Yes.
[ his voice is soft, almost shaking, as graves finishes thrusting that finger inside him. with a slow rock backward he urges the moment on, eyes fluttering closed before he opens them again. ] I'm only this hard because I want you so much. [ he arches his back a little, tipping his head back and aside to catch graves' mouth in a hungry kiss - still slow, still gentle, but needy. ]
[ the second finger joins the first, wet and slick and working to get him ready. it won't compare to the real thing, but for now this is good enough. he presses his chest up against credence's back, continuing to gently thrust up between his thighs with a soft groan, barely audible and warm against the skin of his shoulder.
he loves him like this, he thinks -- when his eyes open and he looks at graves like he's the only thing that matters, need and passion burning, matching the similarly hungry look in graves' eyes. this is credence, back in graves' arms where he belongs, and he smiles faintly before he lowers his head to kiss him, mouth parted to take him in, teasing and pressing back against him.
credence is pale and lovely in the dim light, his body exceptionally flawless when he studies him in the mirror, and he fingerfucks him harder now, his thrusts long and polished. he scissors his fingers inside him a little more, spreading him so that it would be easier to push inside of him, and he pulls out after a few long moments. ]
[ this is always intoxicating, so intimate, letting himself be touched and prepared for more so lovingly, so gently. the way credence continues to rock back against him is practiced, to press graves' fingers further into himself and to give his older lover a tighter, more pleasurable fuck between his thighs. that's intimate too, watching him, being able to see his cock slide sinfully between his legs. he likes it this way, one hand slipping down to teasingly run fingertips over the head of his cock each time it slides forward far enough.
the way graves fucks him harder, two fingers in, means he's breathing a little harshly and letting his fingers curl uselessly against the mirror. he's trembling slightly, wanting, but he does as he's told even if he lets out a petulant moue when he feels the loss of those fingers. still: he holds onto graves' arm carefully as he slides slowly to his knees, keeping his thighs spread neatly so that he sits low. it wouldn't take much of a shift to allow him to rock down against the smooth floor shamelessly, to give graves a show he's unlikely to forget, but he refrains for now, left side practically pressed to the mirror as he looks up at him, eyes doe-like and full lips slightly parted.
he smiles in the breathless way he only gets in times like this, not embarrassed in the least by the fact that he's openly staring at graves' cock. one hand is still resting on him for support, this time at his thigh before he shifts, gently urging his cock and balls the rest of the way out of his trousers with a gentle squeeze, a slow stroke. ] Come here.
[ there he is, stunningly beautiful and doe-eyed, gorgeous and on his knees -- the sight of credence on his knees, urging his cock from his finely-tailored trousers. graves is already so hard, thick and flushed dark, and the squeeze and slow stroke makes his breath hitch in his throat.
he aches to be inside of him again, to push inside of that yielding body, but he knows that he has to be careful with him -- credence asked for gentle, and he'll have it; graves running his fingers through his hair with a faint smile. he's stepping closer as he bids, free and coming to grasp his own dick, light resting the head of it against credence's full, plush lips.
there is no mistaking what he wants him to do, how they look in the profile view within the mirror. he loves him he thinks, beyond everything else. there is much he has to make up for, tonight, to reassure and restore. credence is faithful and loyal, sensuous and giving, and he cannot help a swell of emotion before he gently pushes his cock into his mouth, eyes lidding at the hot, wet warmth of him. his violator might have dreamed of this, he muses darkly. dreamed of getting his cock sucked, of pushing inside that gloriously tight ass, hearing his whimper as he dominates and owns and possesses.
but this, all of this belongs only to graves, an honor given to him by credence, and he cannot help but tug on his hair very gently, another reminder that no one will get to touch his love like that again. no one will molest and violate him the way that man had; graves will kill him first. ]
You like it, don't you? You like having my cock in your mouth.
[ there really is no mistaking what graves wants him to do. he's not naive and this positioning is so familiar; he parts his lips to allow graves' cock to press into his mouth. this is brief - it's not long before he's sucking him off properly, hot mouth and wet tongue laving over him and treating him with the reverence he deserves.
he loves him fully and devotedly, and though he knows sex isn't what shows it he's doing it anyway, giving himself over to graves' gentle requests. gripping at the older man's hips with both hands, he urges graves forward until he's practically buried in the fabric surrounding his lover's cock. he holds him very still after that, taking a moment to acclimate before he swallows around him, tightening his throat as much as he can while staring up at graves, that innocent look still in his eyes.
he stays that way as long as he can before he has to pull his head back quickly and take a deep breath, tipping his head back and licking his lips. then he uses a hand to push his cock up against his stomach so he can run his tongue in a line along the vein underneath then pay especial attention to his balls, idly sucking at them before kissing his way back up to the head of his cock.
finally he nods with a hum, canting his head aside to look at him. ] I do. Do you want to fuck my mouth next or do you have different plans for me?
[ graves can fuck his mouth later, or some other time -- he hasn't forgotten their purpose tonight, and it's all for credence. he who had been violated for no other reason than he had been there, drawing the eye with his beauty, his innate charisma. there are people who would kill to have credence in his bed, people who would think nothing of taking him for themselves, and graves knows this.
now, he's watching him part his mouth, taking him in and sucking him off like he'd been born for it, drawing him so deep that he forgets to breathe for a moment. yes. this is it; this is what he wants. he feels himself being held, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision of his lover's full, plush lips tight around the base of his dick, his eyes dark and bold and innocent.
this is what they want, what they will die for -- credence on his knees, willing and eager to please.
but this is all graves', and he's reminded of this when credence releases his cock from his mouth and graves is so painfully hard it's difficult to think. he gently captures his chin, grasping it before urging him upwards. no, now that his cock is sufficiently slicked up, graves has something else in mind. ]
Stand up. [ his young lover's mouth is sin, and graves is hooked on him. ] Back to bracing yourself against the mirror again. [ a beat. ] I'm going to fuck you, sweetheart. And you're going to watch me do it.
[ credence doesn't care that anyone else wants him. he doesn't pay attention to it, doesn't use it to make graves jealous, and certainly doesn't use it to accept any come-ons or invitations. he's past smitten with graves: he loves him with everything he has and there's nothing that can change it. even if graves left him, told him to leave, he'd be heartbroken but still love him.
but there's no chance of that.
he smiles and draws up to his feet, shaking free of the grip on his chin playfully before leaning in to kiss graves slowly and meaningfully. his teeth catch his lower lip and tug before he's doing what graves requests, turning away from him to brace himself against the mirror and looking at him in the reflection, eyes dark.
graves is everything he wants and needs - powerful, sturdy, steadfast.
he bites his lip slightly, resting his weight on his elbows with his feet planted flat. ] Show me how much you need me.
look at the way he's braced against the mirror, looking back at him in his reflection, his dark curls framing his face so gorgeously, lending him an almost ethereal air. songs can be sung about how beautiful he is, he thinks -- he could be the muse to a lucky songwriter, a reason for their being, and graves' eyes tracks the sleek lines of his body hungrily, ravenous to consume, to claim him as his own.
but he is to be loved tonight, tender and sweet, wiping away the violence that he's suffered this evening -- the violation of his person that the lovebites on his clavicle so aptly reveals. he moves up against him now, still painfully hard and wet, and graves presses kisses against his throat, his jaw, a hand grasping himself and pressing up against his tight, tight hole while the other fondles credence's heavy balls again, grasping him and cradling him in his palm.
he's providing a distraction, when he pushes against the tight pucker of his hole, the flared, rounded head getting the most resistance before he adds more pressure, right until the head of him his buried inside his lover's body. there is more to go, but they'll take it slow tonight, and graves is practically thrumming against his restraint, desperately yearning to fuck him, to draw him close as they melt into each other in a dance that is intimately familiar to them both.
he needs him. he loves him, more than anything else -- it's credence's pleasure that's paramount tonight, and he's not afraid of showing it through actions. ]
[ this is everything he's wanted to remind him. it's perfect, graves is perfect, graves is reminding him that he's a person with agency, that he could stop this right now and graves would listen. that no means something and deserves to be respected.
in any case his eyes are lidded partway shut - still open enough to watch - and he rocks slowly back against him for friction as he stretches out his neck to encourage more of those kisses, more of the delightful attention that's all that he wants and then some.
his fingers curl against the mirror as graves slowly pushes forward, nails scraping uselessly. then he's breathing slow, not looking at that - looking at graves' face, the line of his jaw, the set of it, his eyes, his hair, how everything about him is perfectly made for him so that they fit together like no one else could.
there's no one on earth (or beyond) that he loves more, that he could love more. he used to be practically silent when they slept together but now he's louder, open, and he breathes out a moan, tipping his head back. ] Percival. [ it's soft, murmured, his hands trembling a tiny bit. he's waiting to feel acclimated and finally, finally, he meets graves' eyes in the mirror again and nods. ]
[ percival, he says, and it's the sweetest thing he's ever heard from his lovely lips. graves has always loved the way his name falls from his lips, appreciated every syllable, every lilt. there are a hundred different ways credence says his name, and every one of them infused with a world of emotion, affection.
he reminds him that he's loved and respected, that his kisses, ardent and passionate, are meant to soothe and elevate, not degrade, not the way he had been before. credence had been been so very different the first time he came to him, and graves had taken him up and out, shaped him into the man that he is today -- even if all of it is forged through by credence's talent and will. he meets his gaze when he presses up against him deeper, sinking into him as he feels credence's body stretch, sheathing his cock the way he was always made to.
he takes a deep breath, the sheer tightness and slick heat of him nearly driving him out of his mind. this is good, this is so fucking good and it's easy to be lost in him. he's balls deep now, sinking in completely as his eyes meet his, dark in the mirror. ]
You have all of me, buried inside you. [ his lips brush over his ear. ] You could bring men to their knees, but I love you for more than that. [ he smiles faintly, his mouth finding his throat now, kissing him, tracking heated little kisses down his neck. ]
[ credence respects and is grateful for everything graves has done for him. without him he'd still be on the streets. or in prison. or dead. none of the options are very good but with graves' help he's been able to blossom, to come into his own, to become what he's supposed to be. which is this - lovely, whole, adored.
his back arches, head tipping back and eyes fluttering almost closed with a hissed out curse of pleasure. graves' words hover over him and warm him and he shifts just enough to accommodate their positioning. ] I know. [ it's whispered, barely audible. he's pleased and happy and—he rocks back even though graves is as deep as he can get, purposely tensing around him once before tipping his head forward to look at him in their reflection again, eyes just as merry as the still-rare smile on his face. ]
No one understands me like you do. No one else deserves me. [ he's stretching out his neck, breathing out slow and almost ragged and with a soft i love you passing his lips. then: ] I'm ready for a little more.
[ graves rumbles, low and gravelly when he's buried deep inside of him. he's enjoying credence's pleasure, hoping that it washes away the violations, the memory of the man who'd pinned credence there without his permission, taking what's not his. he can feel credence's bliss when he presses up against him, their bodies made for each other, what with the way they mold so easily against each other.
he can see the smile on his face, and graves cannot help but smile as well. it's such a rare, precious sight, and he commits this moment to memory before he slowly starts to move, his hand coming to curl around the base of credence's cock. his thrusts are long, deliberate, wanting to make him feel every inch of him.
graves adores him, grinding up inside him when he's balls deep inside before he pulls out again, giving him an incredibly thorough fuck. ]
[ and no one else does. no one is made so perfectly for credence like graves is, mind body and soul. with one hand remaining where it is the other moves back to cradle the nape of graves' neck, his head tipping back to rest on his shoulder as he breathes in and out slowly, closing his eyes and just feeling. this is what he wants and needs, the reminder. graves loves him, graves will do anything for him, graves could treat him like a pampered pet or a brat king but instead treats him like an equal. it's taken them so long to get here but they are here.
his moans are low but almost musical for the way graves is playing him expertly like he's an instrument in a master musician's hands - he knows exactly where to touch, how to thrust, what to do to make credence feel like his knees are going to give out beneath him. they almost do, once. he breathes out raggedly and clutches at graves more tightly, eyes barely slitting open to look at him in their reflections. ]
[ no, there's no one else for credence -- and there's no one else for graves. no one is as pliant and lovely as he is, when he moves back to cradle him and graves fucks him even harder, going a touch faster as he pulls out and buries himself balls-deep inside of him. there's something raw and primal about their coupling now, a buildup of tension that he cannot deny.
they've come so far together, tied to each other so powerfully despite trials and tribulations. graves cannot help but rolls his hips the way he knows credence loves, one hand gripping his hip to keep him steady while his other hand moves to jerk him off. ]
Look at you, baby. [ he breathes, low and sultry and deliberate. he's jerking him off where credence can see, how his hand moves up and down his thick, long cock, shamelessly drawing out his pleasure. ] You're so damn beautiful.
[ credence chokes on a moan when graves goes faster, an almost hiccup-like sound escaping him as he rocks back into the thrusts insistently. ] I'm looking— [ the last bit trails off in a whine. he is looking now, eyes staying open to watch in the mirror, body tense but in the most pleasant of ways - he licks his lips, grip on graves' neck tightening just slightly. ]
J-just like that. Percival-! [ credence is always vocal but this is more than usual - louder even - and suddenly his nails scrabble at graves' back a bit. for a while he just breathes; then, finally: ] Harder. Please. I'm so close, I want to come. I want to feel you come inside me.
[ how can he deny him when he asks like this? graves meets him halfway, burying himself balls-deep inside that tight, hot channel, reveling in how good he always feels, how it seems like he's made just for him, pliant and willing and tasting like heaven. he loves the way credence looks at himself in the mirror, how his entire body bounces when graves bucks into him, hard and forceful, and he can't look away from how credence's cock is practically dripping, how his balls are so heavy from unspent seed.
they're desperate, they both are, and he goes even harder, breath catching at how he seems to tighten around him further. he sinks his teeth into the side of his neck, always making sure that his love is in his grasp, and he growls. his orgasm comes as if on command, urged by credence, and he almost draws blood when he comes, emptying his load into his lover in spurts, hips moving slower now as he comes again, again and again, filling him up and flooding those tight walls, marking him with himself, claiming him all over again.
here, now, credence belongs to him, and for a moment nothing else matters but credence and his pleasure. ]
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[ that's all he says for a moment before he's shifting, gently lifting an arm to cradle graves' jaw after he stretches out his neck for that kiss. ] Mm. Only because I let you have me.
[ he's not being contrary in the least - it's clear he's using it as a means of asserting that he's a person, that he has agency, that graves knows how to treat him right, would never do anything he didn't want to, would let him walk away if he wanted - and that's why he doesn't want to. because graves remembers that he's a person and not a plaything.
he manages a tiny smile, some of the tension draining from him. ] I don't want to think about him any more. I just want to think of you. Remind me. Just—gently. I feel like I could shatter, tonight.
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the kiss lingers, and his hands move over his body, smoothing over his hips, his stomach, his chest, mapping out every inch of him under his hands. ] Because you let me have you. [ he reiterates. ] A fact I'm grateful for every day. I would kiss every inch of you if I could, worship at your altar. You made the choice to give yourself to me, didn't you? That was all you.
[ his free hand comes to grasp his cock, fingers closing around his shaft to jerk him off, slow and steady, and gently nudging credence to watch as he pleases him. graves lays soft kisses over his shoulder now, gently nibbling at his ear. ] Look at you. This is what you let me do with you.
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still, he smiles at what his older lever does say. ] I'm no saint or god. You're worshiping at the altar of nothing more than a man. Does that suit you, Percival Graves? [ it's not a question because he knows it does: that every inch of graves is suited to worship him personally just as much as he's suited to do the complimentary worship of graves himself.
credence shifts how he stands, legs spreading just slightly where he has his feet planted so that he can watch him with lidded eyes and parted lips. he stretches out his neck too, breathing out a sigh that's clearly a quiet moan. ]
And I love it, holding that much power. Over myself, over what happens to me, over who gets to touch me, to love me.
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[ it suits him, and while graves doesn't profess it often if at all, he's willing to indulge, to press his mouth against the line of his troat, meeting his eyes in the mirror. he's kissing over the ugly lovebites, the ones stolen without permission, and he's claiming it as his own.
he's continuing to stroke him, fingers curling to fondle his balls, making credence watch as he pleases him, thumb rubbing up and down the underside of his shaft as he keeps him on display. teeth scraping over his earlobe, his next words are a low, purring rumble. ]
Let me love you. [ he says quietly, his other hand coming to track up his stomach, over his chest, brushing over a nipple before lightly, playfully pinching it. ] That power is all yours. [ he wants to return it to him, the agency, the leverage -- the man had stolen more than just kisses from his credence, and he intends to make him pay for all of it. relishing the soft moan, he presses up against his ass, already half hard in his tailored trousers. ]
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he's squirmed back against him by the time graves speaks in earnest, nodding and letting out a breathless little laugh. ] Please. [ it's happy, not mocking - he turns his head to blindly kiss at graves' jaw, nuzzling there a moment to emphasize.
the attention to his cock and balls isn't forgotten either, another quiet moan escaping as he rocks back against him just slightly. ] Love me. Like I said, gentle. Kiss me and fuck me and love me. That's all I've ever wanted, anyway. [ one hand slips between them to palm over the front of graves' trousers, letting out a tiny pleased hum despite himself. ] Getting hard for me already, baby?
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[ graves' words are uttered against the curve of his neck, picking up on his shivers when he starts to slowly reclaim him, to mark him as his own. credence belongs to him because he wants to, and his giddy little laugh is proof enough of his favor and pleasure.
rocking into his hand with a soft groan, graves tugs the zipper down and eases his cock out for his lover. he will kiss him, fuck him, love him, and graves wants to coax him out as well -- this goes both ways, and he reminds him of it when he guides credence's hand around his cock and he thrusts into it like he's fucking the circle of his fingers, a promise he makes. ]
You make me hard, you know that. [ he moves up to capture his mouth with his, thumb rubbing deliberate circles against the sensitive slit of credence's cock. ] You make me want to slide up inside you and never stop until you're dripping with me. I'm going to do this gently tonight, and I will remind you that you are all mine.
[ he takes a breath and reaches up, pushing two fingers between his young lover's lush, full lips. ]
Suck.
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[ credence's grip on graves' cock is firm as he lets him fuck into his hand before he squeezes down at the base, stroking toward himself with a firm, slow urge of his hand as a promise of his own. ] I know. I like feeling it. [ he's about to say something else but it's lost on a moan, his hips bucking toward graves' touch. ] I want to do it here. In front of the mirror. Sitting. I want to see everything.
[ he's leaning back flush against the older man, letting a gentle rock against his cock speak further for him. he parts his lips obediently, drawing graves' fingers into his mouth with something that's undeniably hungry as he sucks at them, one hand moving to grasp his wrist so that he can bob his head slightly, tongue lapping up them once before he forces them to scissor apart slightly with an urgent press between them, moaning softly around them. he's trying to make it clear how much he wants this - to make himself remember just how much this is exactly what he's craving. ]
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this -- he is precious, yielding and eager, and he slips his cock between his thighs with a quiet little sigh, so very hard and rubbing up against credence's balls, the underside of his cock. his young lover's thighs are smooth, soft, closing around his dick in a way that makes him wild. but he has to be the one in control tonight, to soothe frayed nerves, to remind credence of all that matters.
he's pulling his slick fingers out eventually, gently nudging him to brace himself against the mirror as he circles his tight, puckered little hole with two fingers, pushing the first in, slick with saliva, and keeping a close eye on him in the mirror. the last thing he wants to do is hurt credence, especially when he's moaning so sweetly, obviously eager to have more.
graves smiles briefly, nuzzling against him before his finger sinks in entirely, buried deep inside that tight, tight heat. ]
Look at you. Lean forward, sweetheart. Do you see how hard your cock is between your legs?
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taking both of them in all the way isn't quite so impressive as doing the same with graves' cock but the sentiment is there and they both know he can, anyway. he knows this is about him, though - he takes a slow breath when the older man pulls his fingers free, licking his lips and leaning forward as he's told. his hands press to either edge of the mirror and grasp at it as he rests his forehead to the glass, looking down at himself in the reflection. ] Yes.
[ his voice is soft, almost shaking, as graves finishes thrusting that finger inside him. with a slow rock backward he urges the moment on, eyes fluttering closed before he opens them again. ] I'm only this hard because I want you so much. [ he arches his back a little, tipping his head back and aside to catch graves' mouth in a hungry kiss - still slow, still gentle, but needy. ]
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he loves him like this, he thinks -- when his eyes open and he looks at graves like he's the only thing that matters, need and passion burning, matching the similarly hungry look in graves' eyes. this is credence, back in graves' arms where he belongs, and he smiles faintly before he lowers his head to kiss him, mouth parted to take him in, teasing and pressing back against him.
credence is pale and lovely in the dim light, his body exceptionally flawless when he studies him in the mirror, and he fingerfucks him harder now, his thrusts long and polished. he scissors his fingers inside him a little more, spreading him so that it would be easier to push inside of him, and he pulls out after a few long moments. ]
On your knees, your side facing the mirror.
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the way graves fucks him harder, two fingers in, means he's breathing a little harshly and letting his fingers curl uselessly against the mirror. he's trembling slightly, wanting, but he does as he's told even if he lets out a petulant moue when he feels the loss of those fingers. still: he holds onto graves' arm carefully as he slides slowly to his knees, keeping his thighs spread neatly so that he sits low. it wouldn't take much of a shift to allow him to rock down against the smooth floor shamelessly, to give graves a show he's unlikely to forget, but he refrains for now, left side practically pressed to the mirror as he looks up at him, eyes doe-like and full lips slightly parted.
he smiles in the breathless way he only gets in times like this, not embarrassed in the least by the fact that he's openly staring at graves' cock. one hand is still resting on him for support, this time at his thigh before he shifts, gently urging his cock and balls the rest of the way out of his trousers with a gentle squeeze, a slow stroke. ] Come here.
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he aches to be inside of him again, to push inside of that yielding body, but he knows that he has to be careful with him -- credence asked for gentle, and he'll have it; graves running his fingers through his hair with a faint smile. he's stepping closer as he bids, free and coming to grasp his own dick, light resting the head of it against credence's full, plush lips.
there is no mistaking what he wants him to do, how they look in the profile view within the mirror. he loves him he thinks, beyond everything else. there is much he has to make up for, tonight, to reassure and restore. credence is faithful and loyal, sensuous and giving, and he cannot help a swell of emotion before he gently pushes his cock into his mouth, eyes lidding at the hot, wet warmth of him. his violator might have dreamed of this, he muses darkly. dreamed of getting his cock sucked, of pushing inside that gloriously tight ass, hearing his whimper as he dominates and owns and possesses.
but this, all of this belongs only to graves, an honor given to him by credence, and he cannot help but tug on his hair very gently, another reminder that no one will get to touch his love like that again. no one will molest and violate him the way that man had; graves will kill him first. ]
You like it, don't you? You like having my cock in your mouth.
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he loves him fully and devotedly, and though he knows sex isn't what shows it he's doing it anyway, giving himself over to graves' gentle requests. gripping at the older man's hips with both hands, he urges graves forward until he's practically buried in the fabric surrounding his lover's cock. he holds him very still after that, taking a moment to acclimate before he swallows around him, tightening his throat as much as he can while staring up at graves, that innocent look still in his eyes.
he stays that way as long as he can before he has to pull his head back quickly and take a deep breath, tipping his head back and licking his lips. then he uses a hand to push his cock up against his stomach so he can run his tongue in a line along the vein underneath then pay especial attention to his balls, idly sucking at them before kissing his way back up to the head of his cock.
finally he nods with a hum, canting his head aside to look at him. ] I do. Do you want to fuck my mouth next or do you have different plans for me?
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[ graves can fuck his mouth later, or some other time -- he hasn't forgotten their purpose tonight, and it's all for credence. he who had been violated for no other reason than he had been there, drawing the eye with his beauty, his innate charisma. there are people who would kill to have credence in his bed, people who would think nothing of taking him for themselves, and graves knows this.
now, he's watching him part his mouth, taking him in and sucking him off like he'd been born for it, drawing him so deep that he forgets to breathe for a moment. yes. this is it; this is what he wants. he feels himself being held, unable to tear his eyes away from the vision of his lover's full, plush lips tight around the base of his dick, his eyes dark and bold and innocent.
this is what they want, what they will die for -- credence on his knees, willing and eager to please.
but this is all graves', and he's reminded of this when credence releases his cock from his mouth and graves is so painfully hard it's difficult to think. he gently captures his chin, grasping it before urging him upwards. no, now that his cock is sufficiently slicked up, graves has something else in mind. ]
Stand up. [ his young lover's mouth is sin, and graves is hooked on him. ] Back to bracing yourself against the mirror again. [ a beat. ] I'm going to fuck you, sweetheart. And you're going to watch me do it.
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but there's no chance of that.
he smiles and draws up to his feet, shaking free of the grip on his chin playfully before leaning in to kiss graves slowly and meaningfully. his teeth catch his lower lip and tug before he's doing what graves requests, turning away from him to brace himself against the mirror and looking at him in the reflection, eyes dark.
graves is everything he wants and needs - powerful, sturdy, steadfast.
he bites his lip slightly, resting his weight on his elbows with his feet planted flat. ] Show me how much you need me.
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look at the way he's braced against the mirror, looking back at him in his reflection, his dark curls framing his face so gorgeously, lending him an almost ethereal air. songs can be sung about how beautiful he is, he thinks -- he could be the muse to a lucky songwriter, a reason for their being, and graves' eyes tracks the sleek lines of his body hungrily, ravenous to consume, to claim him as his own.
but he is to be loved tonight, tender and sweet, wiping away the violence that he's suffered this evening -- the violation of his person that the lovebites on his clavicle so aptly reveals. he moves up against him now, still painfully hard and wet, and graves presses kisses against his throat, his jaw, a hand grasping himself and pressing up against his tight, tight hole while the other fondles credence's heavy balls again, grasping him and cradling him in his palm.
he's providing a distraction, when he pushes against the tight pucker of his hole, the flared, rounded head getting the most resistance before he adds more pressure, right until the head of him his buried inside his lover's body. there is more to go, but they'll take it slow tonight, and graves is practically thrumming against his restraint, desperately yearning to fuck him, to draw him close as they melt into each other in a dance that is intimately familiar to them both.
he needs him. he loves him, more than anything else -- it's credence's pleasure that's paramount tonight, and he's not afraid of showing it through actions. ]
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in any case his eyes are lidded partway shut - still open enough to watch - and he rocks slowly back against him for friction as he stretches out his neck to encourage more of those kisses, more of the delightful attention that's all that he wants and then some.
his fingers curl against the mirror as graves slowly pushes forward, nails scraping uselessly. then he's breathing slow, not looking at that - looking at graves' face, the line of his jaw, the set of it, his eyes, his hair, how everything about him is perfectly made for him so that they fit together like no one else could.
there's no one on earth (or beyond) that he loves more, that he could love more. he used to be practically silent when they slept together but now he's louder, open, and he breathes out a moan, tipping his head back. ] Percival. [ it's soft, murmured, his hands trembling a tiny bit. he's waiting to feel acclimated and finally, finally, he meets graves' eyes in the mirror again and nods. ]
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he reminds him that he's loved and respected, that his kisses, ardent and passionate, are meant to soothe and elevate, not degrade, not the way he had been before. credence had been been so very different the first time he came to him, and graves had taken him up and out, shaped him into the man that he is today -- even if all of it is forged through by credence's talent and will. he meets his gaze when he presses up against him deeper, sinking into him as he feels credence's body stretch, sheathing his cock the way he was always made to.
he takes a deep breath, the sheer tightness and slick heat of him nearly driving him out of his mind. this is good, this is so fucking good and it's easy to be lost in him. he's balls deep now, sinking in completely as his eyes meet his, dark in the mirror. ]
You have all of me, buried inside you. [ his lips brush over his ear. ] You could bring men to their knees, but I love you for more than that. [ he smiles faintly, his mouth finding his throat now, kissing him, tracking heated little kisses down his neck. ]
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his back arches, head tipping back and eyes fluttering almost closed with a hissed out curse of pleasure. graves' words hover over him and warm him and he shifts just enough to accommodate their positioning. ] I know. [ it's whispered, barely audible. he's pleased and happy and—he rocks back even though graves is as deep as he can get, purposely tensing around him once before tipping his head forward to look at him in their reflection again, eyes just as merry as the still-rare smile on his face. ]
No one understands me like you do. No one else deserves me. [ he's stretching out his neck, breathing out slow and almost ragged and with a soft i love you passing his lips. then: ] I'm ready for a little more.
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[ graves rumbles, low and gravelly when he's buried deep inside of him. he's enjoying credence's pleasure, hoping that it washes away the violations, the memory of the man who'd pinned credence there without his permission, taking what's not his. he can feel credence's bliss when he presses up against him, their bodies made for each other, what with the way they mold so easily against each other.
he can see the smile on his face, and graves cannot help but smile as well. it's such a rare, precious sight, and he commits this moment to memory before he slowly starts to move, his hand coming to curl around the base of credence's cock. his thrusts are long, deliberate, wanting to make him feel every inch of him.
graves adores him, grinding up inside him when he's balls deep inside before he pulls out again, giving him an incredibly thorough fuck. ]
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his moans are low but almost musical for the way graves is playing him expertly like he's an instrument in a master musician's hands - he knows exactly where to touch, how to thrust, what to do to make credence feel like his knees are going to give out beneath him. they almost do, once. he breathes out raggedly and clutches at graves more tightly, eyes barely slitting open to look at him in their reflections. ]
Just like this. More like this. Please.
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they've come so far together, tied to each other so powerfully despite trials and tribulations. graves cannot help but rolls his hips the way he knows credence loves, one hand gripping his hip to keep him steady while his other hand moves to jerk him off. ]
Look at you, baby. [ he breathes, low and sultry and deliberate. he's jerking him off where credence can see, how his hand moves up and down his thick, long cock, shamelessly drawing out his pleasure. ] You're so damn beautiful.
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J-just like that. Percival-! [ credence is always vocal but this is more than usual - louder even - and suddenly his nails scrabble at graves' back a bit. for a while he just breathes; then, finally: ] Harder. Please. I'm so close, I want to come. I want to feel you come inside me.
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they're desperate, they both are, and he goes even harder, breath catching at how he seems to tighten around him further. he sinks his teeth into the side of his neck, always making sure that his love is in his grasp, and he growls. his orgasm comes as if on command, urged by credence, and he almost draws blood when he comes, emptying his load into his lover in spurts, hips moving slower now as he comes again, again and again, filling him up and flooding those tight walls, marking him with himself, claiming him all over again.
here, now, credence belongs to him, and for a moment nothing else matters but credence and his pleasure. ]