[ graves had been enraged when he saw the bruises, the physical evidence of what's been done to credence -- and what would have been done if graves had been slower in getting to him, the consequences of which he's not prepared to see come to fruition. credence hisses, knows graves is here for him, and graves doesn't hesitate to do as he says.
agents like them have free rein when it comes to ops like these (they would be a lot less effective otherwise) and here they are, back in his apartment, together again, and graves feels the weight of the sleepless nights, the constant pressure and the fear he keeps at bay, refusing to consider the worst possibility.
and now it's credence, safe and sound, looking up and him and telling him he doesn't want to be alone. he nods, a hand lightly resting on the back of his neck, careful and gentle. ]
All right. Come to me when you're done with your shower. [ he'll take a quick one, himself -- and see where the rest of the night takes them. ]
[ at first the hand at his neck makes him tense - it's not graves at all, more a conditioned response to any touch after the past few days - but that drains out of him quickly and he practically leans into it, breathing out and letting his eyes flutter shut. when he pulls himself off of the stool reluctantly he nods, eyes flicking over to look at him. he manages a tiny smile. ] All right. I shouldn't be long.
[ he drinks some of the water before he disappears to take his shower, but he does take a little longer than strictly necessary. the reason why is immediately apparent when he comes into graves' room, looking exhausted. his skin is red and almost raw, a mix of nearly-scalding water and scrubbing himself relentlessly. even his face, where the split on his lip looks almost fresh because he's opened it again in his vigorous washing. he's in pajamas and his hair is very slightly damp but he sits at the edge of the bed, chewing on his lip even though that just makes it hurt more.
he's still not sure he feels clean, but it's a start. it's strange to be here and to sit on this bed, even if he knows he could have whenever he liked. ] Thank you.
[ graves looks up from his place in an armchair near the bed; he had taken a shower of his own, making some calls while he hears the water running in credence's room, and a preliminary scan of the reports he's just been sent. credence is a mess, he can see it, his skin rubbed raw and his lip almost bleeding again. graves frowns, rising from it and setting his phone aside. he's in a simple white shirt and pants, evidently preparing to go to sleep as well.
credence is the one who needs him tonight, and he moves forward, his fingers gentle as they grasp his chin, easing his bottom lip free. ]
Don't do that. You'll open it up again. [ if it hasn't already. it'll close up on its own, but only if credence allows it. ] Do you need anything?
[ credence watches graves move, eyes following him ceaselessly. he tips his head up into the touch almost despite himself but he relents, licking his lips once before leaving it alone. ] Sorry. [ it's automatic and very quiet. his hands are balled into fists and resting on his knees and he doesn't know what to do with himself.
do you need anything?
credence shakes his head, tipping it forward again. that's only brief before he stands suddenly, both hands grasping at the front of graves' shirt as he tucks his face in against his neck. it probably looks ridiculous - credence is a little taller than him after all - but he doesn't care, eyes clenched shut. for a long moment he just breathes, not crying but sounding oddly hitched.
then, muffled: ] I knew you'd come for me. [ such a blatant show of trust and faith: it's important, from someone like him. ]
[ always. it's a promise he'll keep to the end of his days, whenever that is. his arms winding around credence's lean frame, his hand comes to rest on the back of his head, cradling him there like a lover. credence fits nicely against him, and he can only imagine the fear and the trauma he'd been through all the same. three days of it can fuck anyone up -- and not for the first time he thinks the dead have gotten off too easy.
he buries his face in his damp hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, fresh and clean, a reminder of how credence has made a life with him here, getting back on his feet and exploring his options -- the things you can do with your life when you don't have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.
he doesn't miss the show of trust, of faith; it's humbling, and he closes his eyes. ]
[ the promise makes him suck in a breath but he doesn't move, just stays coiled against him like that and soaking in every bit of affection he can get. credence's hands finally smooth out flat instead of clutching at fabric quite so tightly. he feels like he can truly breathe for the first time in days. at those last words though, he shakes his head. just a little. ]
I'd wait as long as it took.
[ simple, quiet. finally, he straightens enough to look at him, dark eyes searching his face. he does this often these days, slightly owlish expression taking in the sight of him. it seems different now though, somehow. he brushes his lips across graves' cheek, his jaw, then kisses him on the mouth - very softly, barely there. ]
[ there are bruises on that beautiful face -- his anger still simmering despite the fact that he has paid the perpetrators their due. they looked upon his face and hurt him, those lovely dark eyes and his lips -- they took him from graves and tortured him, and he has to swallow to fight down that anger.
he can feel it, the heat of his hands against his shirt, a desire stirring to life even if he knows he will do nothing against credence's will, not even to ask. he kisses him back, just as soft, just as tender, mindful of his cut lip. ]
[ somehow, credence hadn't expected to actually be questioned about the quiet thought. it's stupid to have thought that though, and he hesitates before he says anything. he seems shy again suddenly but he doesn't look away. ]
You.
[ soft, barely audible. his hand comes up to touch the side of his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. ] I don't know how else to say it. I want to stay with you. Always.
[ one day, graves thinks, credence will find someone his age -- he'll find someone new and maybe this won't last. graves is not naive; he's left a string of failed relationships in his wake, and perhaps this would be the same, or this would surprise him, but he's leaning into credence's touch nonetheless, softly seeking him out, lips brushing over the pads of his fingertips.
he's smitten with him, drawn to credence in ways he knows is wrong -- he's twice his age, for one, but the infatuation has barely faded, deepened into something else he's constantly aware of. ]
You're welcome to stay as long as you like. [ he says in turn, eyes lidding as he wraps his arms around his waist. ] How do I make you feel better?
[ credence doesn't think about that: why would he, when the man before him has all of his attention, all of his affection? the idle kisses to his fingers send a tingling feeling through him, a pleasant thing that credence doesn't have much context for.
he shakes his head, leaning into graves' chest, enjoying the way he's holding on to him. ] You already do. All the time. [ he tips his head aside, this time trailing his lips across the path his fingers took last. then he settles at the pulse point below the older man's ear, lips and then teeth barely grazing it. ] You make me feel safe, and real, and wanted.
[ his attentions change then, just a little. he presses a heated kiss to where he'd just been barely touching, teeth scraping a little harder before he sucks lightly at the spot with a hum.
he wants to taste his skin, assure himself graves is really here, even if he has to pull away later. ]
[ graves tenses very minutely for only a few moments when he feels the kiss below his ear, the titillating graze of teeth and the heated press of lips and more -- as if credence is marking him for himself somehow, settling back into his territory and assuring himself that everywhere is where he's left it.
graves understands the feeling very well, and he leans into it after, curious and just a little turned on. he knows he won't push the matter, but the yearning for credence, for more, is curling in the pit of his stomach, a fire that simmers under his skin like a powerful, undeniable thing. the only reason why this is easier to quell is because of his awareness that credence has only just experienced something harrowing. he makes a soft, inaudible noise at his attentions, his hand coming to cradle the back of his head, tangling in his dark hair. ]
Credence. [ he breathes, soft and private. is he telling him to stop or continue? for the first time in a long while, he's not too clear on that. ] You must be tired.
[ his hands grip a little more tightly to the front of graves' shirt again, teeth catching at the skin in a sharp little nip before he leans into the fingers in his hair with a soft exhale.
the way graves says his name is so nice--but then he stills, surprised. when credence pulls back to look at him and search his face there's no hint of hurt in his expression but instead a wary sort of questioning. he lets go then, feeling a little cowed despite himself, and glances away once before nodding.
(maybe graves doesn't actually want him that way any more? it's a flutter of nervousness in the face of the obvious fact he still does.) ] I am...
[ oh, but he does. he does, and he doesn't miss the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, which is why he leans forward to kiss his mouth harder, seeking and reassuring, firm and sure. his arm winds around him and keeps him there. where credence lets go, he doesn't.
he won't. ]
I still want you. [ he says, and that admission is difficult for a man like him to make. but he does -- despite the frustration of not having him, the ache of wanting but not being able to have. even now, having him in his arms is an incredible temptation. ] I want you more than anything else. [ he leans in to press his forehead against his. ] Credence, you have no idea what it's like to want so badly and not be able to touch. But you've had a long day -- you don't need to deal with this right now.
[ credence returns this kiss, urging into it, leaning into his grasp, and then he exhales shaking. it's a reassurance he'd desperately needed and he reaches to grasp at graves' arm briefly before he nods while their foreheads touch. ] All right.
[ he steals another kiss, this one soft and chaste, before smiling just a little. ] I'll rest, then.
[ when he pauses this time it's thoughtful and he pulls away slightly, just looking at him before he speaks cautiously and nervously. ] Is it all right that... [ a hesitation. ] Is it all right to love you? I--it's okay if you don't, I just--if you don't want me to I can pretend or try to stop or-- [ it's clear he's flustered - the ache and worry are so very real. ]
[ in the interest of full disclosure, and all that. graves runs his fingers through credence's hair, kissing him back again, again, and again, chaste and soft as he realizes what the boy's saying. he's flustered, worried and aching, and graves wants to do all he can to put him at ease.
his kisses trail down his throat, lingering over his pulse before he lays another kiss to it, slow and deliberate. ] But you're to finish what you started, Mr. Barebone. You're no quitter.
[ and neither is graves. he wants to love him, so badly -- hell, he already does; he can't imagine pretending not to. ] I won't lose you again.
[ he says it quietly, meaningfully. how long has he been feeling this way? he presses into those soft kisses, affectionate, needy. he breathes out shaking when they dip lower though, stretching out his neck and threading his fingers through the older man's hair in a way that's almost begging for more.
(graves' mouth at his pulse point makes him feel so good--) ] No, I won't give up. You're right. I haven't quit yet, why would I now?
[ softer. what graves says last touches him deeply and he closes his eyes a moment before he finally whispers. ]</small. I'm right here. I won't go anywhere.
[ graves doesn't entertain darker thoughts, doesn't allow himself to ruminate on 'what ifs', they're a waste of time when credence is here, present, and beautiful, burrowing against him so sweetly that he can't help the flicker of desire, the familiar coil of potent need.
he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
[ credence is having his own series of thoughts: how he feels safe again for the first time in what feels like years but is only a span of days in reality, the heat of graves' body against him, his breath, his lips. he breathes out slow once that hand settles at his back and he smiles faintly unseen.
then he pulls back a little to look at him, stepping back toward the bed and drawing the older man with him. ] Yes. I want to be reminded of where I am, who I'm with, and why I feel safe. [ he's smiling still as he sits at the edge of the mattress, now properly looking at him. his hands splay at graves' hips and hold him where he is, expression thoughtful. ] I want you above me, inside me, making absolutely sure that I'm yours.
[ he uses his grip to yank graves a tiny bit closer so that he can nuzzle at the front of his pants, breathe out hot against the fabric--and then glance up at him with a coy little smile. ] If that's all right with you.
[ graves is silent for a long moment, surprised by that little speech and demonstration, the fact that credence is finally, finally ready. the noble part of him wants to push this back, wants to remind him that he's functioning on the dregs of adrenaline, most likely. but the more selfish part, the one who desires credence so fiercely that sometimes he surprises himself, the most selfish part just wants credence and all that he is.
he looks at him, eyes dark and unmistakably hungry when credence holds him where he is, when he's seated like that and he's so close to where graves wants him, where he's fantasized about it -- jerking off in the shower because that's where he can find reprieve. he doesn't fight credence's advances, his hands coming in to comb through his hair when he feels the thrilling heat fanning over the crotch of his pants, a flicker of warmth going right to his cock.
fuck, he's so gone for him that it's embarrassing, and he wants more than anything to kiss that coy little smile away, or perhaps to make it grow, to show credence that he has nothing to fear with him. the words bring with them an overwhelming temptation, and he shivers, shifts to bow over him, cradling the boy in his arms before pushing him back onto the bed, straddling him, knees over either side of his thighs. ]
What a mouth you have on you. [ graves muses, soft but impressed, lips coming to brush over his cheek. ] Let me take care of you tonight. [ his eyes hold a promise of all that is to come, intense and unrelenting. talking through credence's experience can wait -- there are times when you just need to process it differently, and graves is more than happy to oblige. ] Make you forget everything else but me.
[ credence feels ready and he knows that even if he is running off adrenaline, graves isn't going to do anything that credence is going to regret. he also knows that if he tells the older man to stop he will, which gives him a sense of agency he so desperately needs. the look in graves' eyes peering down at him is very nearly enough to make credence's breath shake on its own and when fingers glide through his hair credence's eyes lid almost completely closed and he nuzzles into it almost as though he's a spoiled cat angling for more pets.
he's a little surprised when graves moves him instead of just letting him continue but he curls his arms around his neck anyway, resting lightly across his broad shoulders but clutching him close anyway. he settles back easily, looking up at him with something--trusting, adoring, almost shy but not quite--in his eyes, complicated as anything else.
credence smiles again, that tiny thing that's the most he ever wears, tipping into the kiss to his cheek. ] All right. [ relenting is simple enough with graves, watching him and processing what he says, shaking his head a little to get his hair out of his face as he leans it back into the mattress. when he speaks it's softly, lips parted from an exhale. ] Kiss me.
[ and kiss him he does, without hesitation. he's waited long enough for credence to be ready, and in the wake of his kidnapping graves had been forced to confront the very real fear that he could end up dead despite best efforts. that credence would slip him his fingers like so much smoke in the wake of everything they never said to each other, or did with each other -- graves knows he has to make up for all of it.
credence is pliant and willing, and he knows this isn't because he owes him, or that he has to do it because this is payment for his kindness. graves had made that clear, hasn't he? his fingers trace over his cheek, drinking in that lovely look on his face, that trust, that adoration, that something else he can't put his finger on. his gaze is dark, just as ardent, passionate for a man who has spent his life pretending to be otherwise.
this is where he comes out, when the director is set aside and the man takes his place; graves who desires only credence, who has fallen in love with him throughout the course of the months that he had taken him in. it's complicated, but he deepens the kiss and sinks into it, a hand coming to tug credence's shirt up to expose him to the cool air of the bedroom, fingers tracking to see if he's wearing underwear beneath.
his hand slips between credence's legs all the same, curving to palm his balls, a thrill curling in the pit of his stomach. he's finally getting to sample him, to take him for himself, and he smiles against his lips, warm and filled with potent anticipation. ] Tell me what you like.
[ credence kisses him back fervently, pouring everything he has into it. he's spent the past few days lonely and frightened and constantly in danger but still trusting - and his trust had been well-placed. so here he is now with graves, comfortable and happy beneath him - safe. he breathes out a pleased sound, nuzzling against the fingers at his cheek this time.
he definitely does love graves, and he definitely does want this with him. that's all there is to it. as the kiss deepens his hold on graves tightens, hands splaying at his back and pressing down like he can keep him here, make sure he can't leave even though he knows neither of them is going anywhere at all. he does wriggle a bit to help in tugging his shirt up, the cool air pleasant when the rest of him feels overheated.
credence is not, as it happens, wearing any underwear beneath his loose pajama pants, which really just makes graves' intended prize all the easier to get to. he gasps softly against his mouth and arches his hips upward, just a little. he licks his lips, ignoring the taste of iron there, then pulls back just enough to look at him. ] You. [ it's teasing though, light, and he leans up to catch him in another kiss, teeth nipping at his lower lip before tugging. he lets his head drop back again after, hair already a mess as he looks up at him. ] But if you want something more specific, I'm going to have to say your mouth.
[ ah. there's a moment where credence shifts, squirms, scoots himself up a little higher on the bed so that he can free one of his legs. when he curls up it's a bit cricket-legged but then he's placing the curve of one foot against one of the older man's shoulders, only staying in the bent position a moment before pressing downward with that same foot. it's a pointed gesture, and even though it looks and sounds very confident, there's still a blush dusting his cheeks.
there are also scars trailing the backs of his thighs, but his pants are still covering those for the moment. ]
[ his mouth, is it? graves' surprise becomes sharp, predatory delight when he realizes just what credence is doing, how his foot so delicately but firmly presses him down to where he wants him. no one has ever dared to do this with him before, none of his previous lovers save this one, who outshines them all. credence is safe with him, loved, because graves does not make promises he cannot keep.
he allows himself to be maneuvered to where credence wants him, impossibly turned on by that bold move. he can see the outline of his cock right here, and how it's obvious that he's not wearing a thing underneath. the pressure against his shoulder unrelenting, graves' smile betrays his pleasure; he does delight in a partner that is bold and confident, and that blush across pale cheeks is enough for graves to be almost entirely hard.
reaching up, he snags the waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it off his hips while letting it catch onto the spread of his thighs, enough to expose credence's lovely nakedness to the cool air of the room, how his cock rests against a thigh. all of him, graves thinks -- all of him is exquisite, and he can't help a warm curl of anticipation, a desire burning under his skin. ]
I've waited long enough for this, Credence. [ he murmurs, leaning forward, fingers hooked in his trousers and his mouth coming to press down the length of his cock, nestled in those lovely dark curls. one kiss, two, three; this is where percival graves worships, and his mouth parts to lay a soft kiss and a lick against the head of his dick, slow and deliberate. a taste of him, heady and intoxicating.
he could do this all damn night, suck him off again, again and again, just to have a taste of him in his mouth. he tugs on the pajama pants again, insistent, moving now so that he's above instead of between his legs. ]
[ credence almost lets out a laugh when he can tell that graves has realized what he's doing. but only almost - he's too busy looking down at him, watching him, licking his lips and lowering his lids over eyes dark with desire. there's no hint of the anxiety or fear that had wracked him the first time he'd approached the older man sexually and instead it's replaced with an open appreciation, want, and a pleased expression that will let graves know that he's doing exactly what he wants.
the way graves kisses along the length of his cock quickens the stirrings of arousal in him, steadily hardening in the contrast of cool air and warm lips. the lick is what draws a quiet noise from him and credence's toes flexing down to press into the back of graves' shoulder, encouraging. if graves feels as though he could mouth at credence's cock all night, it mirrors how credence knows he could soak it all in, arch upward, press further into his mouth insistently, drag nails over his scalp--all night. the thought of it is distracting enough that he has to look up at graves and focus on him properly as he feels the shift of the mattress.
credence is pliant when graves moves though, settling beneath him easily and looking at him--he lifts his hips off the bed so that he can tug his pants off the rest of the way, not thinking at all about his scarring as he bends his legs at the knee to get rid of all the fabric. it's not a purposeful thing; he just doesn't care about them too much any more. what he does care about is the man hovering so carefully over his body. he can't reach with his hand, but that doesn't stop him. instead he stretches out the leg that had been shoving at graves' shoulder so that he can brush his foot across the front of the older man's pants. lightly, then a little more purposeful so that he can feel just how hard he is beneath the fabric. it rests there after, a point of contact.
he bites his lip on the side that isn't split, eyes bright now. ] How do you feel about what you see?
[ graves murmurs, looking up at him, taking him in before he tracks kisses down his stomach, nuzzling against his cock before pressing a long, slow and sensuous kiss to the head of his cock, tongue lightly lapping over it. he can feel credence's foot press up against his dick, resting there like it's the most natural thing in the world to do, and he can't help but grind into it, wanting the contact, seeking him out.
he's gone without sex for too damn long, and now that he has him here and willing, graves is just about ready to pull out all the stops. he takes him in, everything, admiring and reveling in the moment. credence is blessedly naked and ready for the taking, sleek and lean and so very beautiful despite the bruises he's taken. he notice the scars on the back of his thighs now, catching sight of it once he's naked like this, and his hand comes to smooth up the back of it, frowning. ]
Your mother? [ he asks after a moment, tracking over his skin. he's not disgusted, not at credence, but he can't help a wave of possessiveness and anger. his thumb is lightly stroking up the underside of his cock all the same, followed up with his warm tongue. ] She won't get to hurt you again.
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no subject
agents like them have free rein when it comes to ops like these (they would be a lot less effective otherwise) and here they are, back in his apartment, together again, and graves feels the weight of the sleepless nights, the constant pressure and the fear he keeps at bay, refusing to consider the worst possibility.
and now it's credence, safe and sound, looking up and him and telling him he doesn't want to be alone. he nods, a hand lightly resting on the back of his neck, careful and gentle. ]
All right. Come to me when you're done with your shower. [ he'll take a quick one, himself -- and see where the rest of the night takes them. ]
no subject
[ he drinks some of the water before he disappears to take his shower, but he does take a little longer than strictly necessary. the reason why is immediately apparent when he comes into graves' room, looking exhausted. his skin is red and almost raw, a mix of nearly-scalding water and scrubbing himself relentlessly. even his face, where the split on his lip looks almost fresh because he's opened it again in his vigorous washing. he's in pajamas and his hair is very slightly damp but he sits at the edge of the bed, chewing on his lip even though that just makes it hurt more.
he's still not sure he feels clean, but it's a start. it's strange to be here and to sit on this bed, even if he knows he could have whenever he liked. ] Thank you.
no subject
credence is the one who needs him tonight, and he moves forward, his fingers gentle as they grasp his chin, easing his bottom lip free. ]
Don't do that. You'll open it up again. [ if it hasn't already. it'll close up on its own, but only if credence allows it. ] Do you need anything?
no subject
do you need anything?
credence shakes his head, tipping it forward again. that's only brief before he stands suddenly, both hands grasping at the front of graves' shirt as he tucks his face in against his neck. it probably looks ridiculous - credence is a little taller than him after all - but he doesn't care, eyes clenched shut. for a long moment he just breathes, not crying but sounding oddly hitched.
then, muffled: ] I knew you'd come for me. [ such a blatant show of trust and faith: it's important, from someone like him. ]
no subject
[ always. it's a promise he'll keep to the end of his days, whenever that is. his arms winding around credence's lean frame, his hand comes to rest on the back of his head, cradling him there like a lover. credence fits nicely against him, and he can only imagine the fear and the trauma he'd been through all the same. three days of it can fuck anyone up -- and not for the first time he thinks the dead have gotten off too easy.
he buries his face in his damp hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, fresh and clean, a reminder of how credence has made a life with him here, getting back on his feet and exploring his options -- the things you can do with your life when you don't have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.
he doesn't miss the show of trust, of faith; it's humbling, and he closes his eyes. ]
I've kept you waiting.
no subject
I'd wait as long as it took.
[ simple, quiet. finally, he straightens enough to look at him, dark eyes searching his face. he does this often these days, slightly owlish expression taking in the sight of him. it seems different now though, somehow. he brushes his lips across graves' cheek, his jaw, then kisses him on the mouth - very softly, barely there. ]
Sometimes I'm scared of how much I feel.
no subject
he can feel it, the heat of his hands against his shirt, a desire stirring to life even if he knows he will do nothing against credence's will, not even to ask. he kisses him back, just as soft, just as tender, mindful of his cut lip. ]
How much you feel about what?
no subject
You.
[ soft, barely audible. his hand comes up to touch the side of his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. ] I don't know how else to say it. I want to stay with you. Always.
no subject
he's smitten with him, drawn to credence in ways he knows is wrong -- he's twice his age, for one, but the infatuation has barely faded, deepened into something else he's constantly aware of. ]
You're welcome to stay as long as you like. [ he says in turn, eyes lidding as he wraps his arms around his waist. ] How do I make you feel better?
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he shakes his head, leaning into graves' chest, enjoying the way he's holding on to him. ] You already do. All the time. [ he tips his head aside, this time trailing his lips across the path his fingers took last. then he settles at the pulse point below the older man's ear, lips and then teeth barely grazing it. ] You make me feel safe, and real, and wanted.
[ his attentions change then, just a little. he presses a heated kiss to where he'd just been barely touching, teeth scraping a little harder before he sucks lightly at the spot with a hum.
he wants to taste his skin, assure himself graves is really here, even if he has to pull away later. ]
no subject
graves understands the feeling very well, and he leans into it after, curious and just a little turned on. he knows he won't push the matter, but the yearning for credence, for more, is curling in the pit of his stomach, a fire that simmers under his skin like a powerful, undeniable thing. the only reason why this is easier to quell is because of his awareness that credence has only just experienced something harrowing. he makes a soft, inaudible noise at his attentions, his hand coming to cradle the back of his head, tangling in his dark hair. ]
Credence. [ he breathes, soft and private. is he telling him to stop or continue? for the first time in a long while, he's not too clear on that. ] You must be tired.
no subject
the way graves says his name is so nice--but then he stills, surprised. when credence pulls back to look at him and search his face there's no hint of hurt in his expression but instead a wary sort of questioning. he lets go then, feeling a little cowed despite himself, and glances away once before nodding.
(maybe graves doesn't actually want him that way any more? it's a flutter of nervousness in the face of the obvious fact he still does.) ] I am...
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he won't. ]
I still want you. [ he says, and that admission is difficult for a man like him to make. but he does -- despite the frustration of not having him, the ache of wanting but not being able to have. even now, having him in his arms is an incredible temptation. ] I want you more than anything else. [ he leans in to press his forehead against his. ] Credence, you have no idea what it's like to want so badly and not be able to touch. But you've had a long day -- you don't need to deal with this right now.
no subject
[ he steals another kiss, this one soft and chaste, before smiling just a little. ] I'll rest, then.
[ when he pauses this time it's thoughtful and he pulls away slightly, just looking at him before he speaks cautiously and nervously. ] Is it all right that... [ a hesitation. ] Is it all right to love you? I--it's okay if you don't, I just--if you don't want me to I can pretend or try to stop or-- [ it's clear he's flustered - the ache and worry are so very real. ]
no subject
[ in the interest of full disclosure, and all that. graves runs his fingers through credence's hair, kissing him back again, again, and again, chaste and soft as he realizes what the boy's saying. he's flustered, worried and aching, and graves wants to do all he can to put him at ease.
his kisses trail down his throat, lingering over his pulse before he lays another kiss to it, slow and deliberate. ] But you're to finish what you started, Mr. Barebone. You're no quitter.
[ and neither is graves. he wants to love him, so badly -- hell, he already does; he can't imagine pretending not to. ] I won't lose you again.
no subject
[ he says it quietly, meaningfully. how long has he been feeling this way? he presses into those soft kisses, affectionate, needy. he breathes out shaking when they dip lower though, stretching out his neck and threading his fingers through the older man's hair in a way that's almost begging for more.
(graves' mouth at his pulse point makes him feel so good--) ] No, I won't give up. You're right. I haven't quit yet, why would I now?
[ softer. what graves says last touches him deeply and he closes his eyes a moment before he finally whispers. ]</small. I'm right here. I won't go anywhere.
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he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
Or can he? ]
Are you all right with this?
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then he pulls back a little to look at him, stepping back toward the bed and drawing the older man with him. ] Yes. I want to be reminded of where I am, who I'm with, and why I feel safe. [ he's smiling still as he sits at the edge of the mattress, now properly looking at him. his hands splay at graves' hips and hold him where he is, expression thoughtful. ] I want you above me, inside me, making absolutely sure that I'm yours.
[ he uses his grip to yank graves a tiny bit closer so that he can nuzzle at the front of his pants, breathe out hot against the fabric--and then glance up at him with a coy little smile. ] If that's all right with you.
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he looks at him, eyes dark and unmistakably hungry when credence holds him where he is, when he's seated like that and he's so close to where graves wants him, where he's fantasized about it -- jerking off in the shower because that's where he can find reprieve. he doesn't fight credence's advances, his hands coming in to comb through his hair when he feels the thrilling heat fanning over the crotch of his pants, a flicker of warmth going right to his cock.
fuck, he's so gone for him that it's embarrassing, and he wants more than anything to kiss that coy little smile away, or perhaps to make it grow, to show credence that he has nothing to fear with him. the words bring with them an overwhelming temptation, and he shivers, shifts to bow over him, cradling the boy in his arms before pushing him back onto the bed, straddling him, knees over either side of his thighs. ]
What a mouth you have on you. [ graves muses, soft but impressed, lips coming to brush over his cheek. ] Let me take care of you tonight. [ his eyes hold a promise of all that is to come, intense and unrelenting. talking through credence's experience can wait -- there are times when you just need to process it differently, and graves is more than happy to oblige. ] Make you forget everything else but me.
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he's a little surprised when graves moves him instead of just letting him continue but he curls his arms around his neck anyway, resting lightly across his broad shoulders but clutching him close anyway. he settles back easily, looking up at him with something--trusting, adoring, almost shy but not quite--in his eyes, complicated as anything else.
credence smiles again, that tiny thing that's the most he ever wears, tipping into the kiss to his cheek. ] All right. [ relenting is simple enough with graves, watching him and processing what he says, shaking his head a little to get his hair out of his face as he leans it back into the mattress. when he speaks it's softly, lips parted from an exhale. ] Kiss me.
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credence is pliant and willing, and he knows this isn't because he owes him, or that he has to do it because this is payment for his kindness. graves had made that clear, hasn't he? his fingers trace over his cheek, drinking in that lovely look on his face, that trust, that adoration, that something else he can't put his finger on. his gaze is dark, just as ardent, passionate for a man who has spent his life pretending to be otherwise.
this is where he comes out, when the director is set aside and the man takes his place; graves who desires only credence, who has fallen in love with him throughout the course of the months that he had taken him in. it's complicated, but he deepens the kiss and sinks into it, a hand coming to tug credence's shirt up to expose him to the cool air of the bedroom, fingers tracking to see if he's wearing underwear beneath.
his hand slips between credence's legs all the same, curving to palm his balls, a thrill curling in the pit of his stomach. he's finally getting to sample him, to take him for himself, and he smiles against his lips, warm and filled with potent anticipation. ] Tell me what you like.
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he definitely does love graves, and he definitely does want this with him. that's all there is to it. as the kiss deepens his hold on graves tightens, hands splaying at his back and pressing down like he can keep him here, make sure he can't leave even though he knows neither of them is going anywhere at all. he does wriggle a bit to help in tugging his shirt up, the cool air pleasant when the rest of him feels overheated.
credence is not, as it happens, wearing any underwear beneath his loose pajama pants, which really just makes graves' intended prize all the easier to get to. he gasps softly against his mouth and arches his hips upward, just a little. he licks his lips, ignoring the taste of iron there, then pulls back just enough to look at him. ] You. [ it's teasing though, light, and he leans up to catch him in another kiss, teeth nipping at his lower lip before tugging. he lets his head drop back again after, hair already a mess as he looks up at him. ] But if you want something more specific, I'm going to have to say your mouth.
[ ah. there's a moment where credence shifts, squirms, scoots himself up a little higher on the bed so that he can free one of his legs. when he curls up it's a bit cricket-legged but then he's placing the curve of one foot against one of the older man's shoulders, only staying in the bent position a moment before pressing downward with that same foot. it's a pointed gesture, and even though it looks and sounds very confident, there's still a blush dusting his cheeks.
there are also scars trailing the backs of his thighs, but his pants are still covering those for the moment. ]
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he allows himself to be maneuvered to where credence wants him, impossibly turned on by that bold move. he can see the outline of his cock right here, and how it's obvious that he's not wearing a thing underneath. the pressure against his shoulder unrelenting, graves' smile betrays his pleasure; he does delight in a partner that is bold and confident, and that blush across pale cheeks is enough for graves to be almost entirely hard.
reaching up, he snags the waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it off his hips while letting it catch onto the spread of his thighs, enough to expose credence's lovely nakedness to the cool air of the room, how his cock rests against a thigh. all of him, graves thinks -- all of him is exquisite, and he can't help a warm curl of anticipation, a desire burning under his skin. ]
I've waited long enough for this, Credence. [ he murmurs, leaning forward, fingers hooked in his trousers and his mouth coming to press down the length of his cock, nestled in those lovely dark curls. one kiss, two, three; this is where percival graves worships, and his mouth parts to lay a soft kiss and a lick against the head of his dick, slow and deliberate. a taste of him, heady and intoxicating.
he could do this all damn night, suck him off again, again and again, just to have a taste of him in his mouth. he tugs on the pajama pants again, insistent, moving now so that he's above instead of between his legs. ]
Take them off. I want to see you.
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the way graves kisses along the length of his cock quickens the stirrings of arousal in him, steadily hardening in the contrast of cool air and warm lips. the lick is what draws a quiet noise from him and credence's toes flexing down to press into the back of graves' shoulder, encouraging. if graves feels as though he could mouth at credence's cock all night, it mirrors how credence knows he could soak it all in, arch upward, press further into his mouth insistently, drag nails over his scalp--all night. the thought of it is distracting enough that he has to look up at graves and focus on him properly as he feels the shift of the mattress.
credence is pliant when graves moves though, settling beneath him easily and looking at him--he lifts his hips off the bed so that he can tug his pants off the rest of the way, not thinking at all about his scarring as he bends his legs at the knee to get rid of all the fabric. it's not a purposeful thing; he just doesn't care about them too much any more. what he does care about is the man hovering so carefully over his body. he can't reach with his hand, but that doesn't stop him. instead he stretches out the leg that had been shoving at graves' shoulder so that he can brush his foot across the front of the older man's pants. lightly, then a little more purposeful so that he can feel just how hard he is beneath the fabric. it rests there after, a point of contact.
he bites his lip on the side that isn't split, eyes bright now. ] How do you feel about what you see?
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[ graves murmurs, looking up at him, taking him in before he tracks kisses down his stomach, nuzzling against his cock before pressing a long, slow and sensuous kiss to the head of his cock, tongue lightly lapping over it. he can feel credence's foot press up against his dick, resting there like it's the most natural thing in the world to do, and he can't help but grind into it, wanting the contact, seeking him out.
he's gone without sex for too damn long, and now that he has him here and willing, graves is just about ready to pull out all the stops. he takes him in, everything, admiring and reveling in the moment. credence is blessedly naked and ready for the taking, sleek and lean and so very beautiful despite the bruises he's taken. he notice the scars on the back of his thighs now, catching sight of it once he's naked like this, and his hand comes to smooth up the back of it, frowning. ]
Your mother? [ he asks after a moment, tracking over his skin. he's not disgusted, not at credence, but he can't help a wave of possessiveness and anger. his thumb is lightly stroking up the underside of his cock all the same, followed up with his warm tongue. ] She won't get to hurt you again.
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