Credence has had his little… problem , for as long as he could remember. It has never really been that much of a problem before, more like a minor annoyance. He had nightmares, of course he had nightmares, it would be more worrisome if he didn’t. Most of the time they were vague; the bite of the belt against his palms, the sensation of drowning, swirling through the night sky in a directionless mass, fury so red hot and blinding that he swears he was thrown into the lake of brimstone with the demons below. But sometimes it was worse than that. Memories not recognized when awake would simmer in his subconscious.
Modesty being lashed, and the fear preventing him stepping in and helping her. The darkness clawing at the faces of people who have hurt him. The satisfaction he got at seeing them fall beneath him is enough to wake him with a gasp. These nightmares are what would cause his problem to surface. His heart would constrict, fear gripping him in his slumber and when he woke it felt like ice ran through his veins, a cold not even the drafty church could match. His body would tense like a piano string, ready to snap at any second. The tension keeping his body rigid and still, even in sleep, instinctively reacting as prey against an unknown predator that may try to attack.
The fear isn’t the only thing that was making him shiver though. He’d wipe the sleep away along with tears that had began to pool in his eyes. He’d get up, strip, and quietly retrieve a rag from the bathroom to wipe himself down. If Ma knew he still wet the bed like a toddler he’d be punished for sure. It’s only by the grace of God Credence has laundry duty in the mornings, so no one questions it when he brings the soiled bed clothes down to clean.
He doesn’t have to worry about that now though, he’s a wizard! A real, honest to God wizard. He has a wand, and spellbooks, and talent . That’s what Mr. Graves said at least. Credence tried to deny it at first, sure the man was only say such things to be nice to him, but after Credence mastered every first year spell in about a week even he couldn’t deny that he was good at it. He was good at magic, he had made friends with Mr. Scamander and the two Ms. Goldsteins, and he was safe under Mr. Graves’ roof.
When Credence has a nightmare he doesn’t have to worry about getting caught when washing his bed sheets. He mastered the Scourgify spell rather quickly on his own so he could take care of his little problem if it continued to act up and he also found Muffliato to stop Mr. Graves from hearing his cries at night. He was just thankful that he didn’t have any nightmares too frequently before he could get the hang of them, perhaps there is a God looking out for him in some way.
He had been staying with the man ever since Madame Picquery allowed him to live as long as he remained under the care of a senior auror, and Mr. Graves seemed to jump at the chance. Credence thinks that he feels guilty for what Grindelwald did while wearing his face, specifically to Credence. Why else would he care so much about what happened to him?
But that’s just who his Mr. Graves is. He was caring and protective and compassionate, to all. To the victims he encounters in his line of work, to the aurors who didn’t notice he was missing for eight months, and the poor orphan boy who was manipulated by the greatest dark wizard of the age. When Credence had first moved in with him he had been nervous (terrified really) and at every turn he was sure that he would do something, make some mistake, that would lead to Mr. Graves throwing him out or worse, hold out his palm in a silent demand for his belt as his mother so often used to.
But his Mr. Graves is kind. When Credence makes a mistake, he’s patient. A silent repairing charm he sends to the object accidently broken or a friendly hand he places on the boy’s shoulder when he can’t get a charm down right away. He’s a calming presence, a grounding force that Credence has never known before.
Armed with the knowledge that he would not be punished for making a mistake, as well as copious amounts of alcohol, Credence made a daring move on the night of Mr. Graves’ birthday. The boy knew the man would not be celebrating the day at work, something about professionalism and superiority that Credence thought was hogwash, but he knew he had to do something to show Mr. Graves how much he appreciates the things he’s done for him. He cooked up a nice meal of lamb chops and vegetables and he poured a glass of Mr. Graves’ favorite whiskey. He also borrowed a book from Queenie on deserts and did his best to make a simple chocolate cake that he set at the center of the table.
When Percival showed up he brightened at the sight of Credence setting the silverware. “Hello, my —” He starts, but loses his words at the sight of the cake.
“Is everything okay, sir? I’m sorry, I know you don’t really celebrate your birthday. But I wanted to repay you for what you’ve done for me.” Credence said.
“You don’t owe me anything Credence.”
“Well, then I did it because I wanted to.”
Graves meets the boy’s eyes and he can’t help but wonder how someone who’s been through so much trauma could still be so kind. The boy will never cease to amaze him. “Thank you very much Credence. I appreciate it more than you know.” Percival gives him a small smile and moves to remove his coat when Credence comes up behind him, laying his hands on his shoulders.
“May I take your coat Mr. Graves?”
Percival can only nod since his throat had gone dry at the feel of Credence’s hands on him. He almost has to suppress a groan when the boy slips the coat off, stroking down his arms. Graves quickly removes his tie before the boy could offer to help with that as well, if that happened he doesn’t think he could keep his impure thoughts secret anymore. They both retire to the table and Graves takes a gulp of his whiskey, finishing off the glass in one swig. He pours a second and then gestures to the bottle, “There’s nothing more depressing than drinking alone on your birthday. Won’t you join me, my boy?”
How could Credence refuse?
Dinner passed with little fanfare, they both keep up with the small talk about what Credence read that day and what Percival did at work. Once they cleaned their plates, Credence gathers them up and staggers to the sink to deposit them. He normally wouldn’t leave them without cleaning and putting them away but the alcohol is getting to him. He comes back to Percival and almost falls into the table. Graves puts a hand on his back to steady him and Credence giggles. He turns, eyes shining bright, and Percival freezes. The boy had never looked at him like that before and he doesn’t know what it means (he does know but he can’t quite bring himself to believe it). Credence somehow moved impossibly closer and the two were sharing the same air, the tension between them crackling like ozone.
“Can I give you a present Mr. Graves?” Credence whispered and Percival can do nothing but nod his head. When their lips touched it was soft, a simple press from Credence who had no experience in the matter and Percival was too stunned to do anything else. The boy pulled away and furrowed his brows. “I’m so sorry Mr. Graves. Was is not good, I just don’t know— ”
Percival’s brain finally caught up with him and he grabbed Credence’s lapels and yanked him forward, consuming his mouth. One hand remained on the boy’s shirt while the other snaked its way to the nape of his neck. He ran his tongue against the seam of those blood red lips and the younger man shuddered at the touch. He opened his mouth and gave access and Graves took and took; licking the ridges of his teeth, sucking on his tongue, biting at those beautiful lips.
When they finally broke apart Credence was dazed, his hair was a mess, and his lips were plump and slick. Percival thinks that he wishes the boy could look like that all the time for him, and a little part of him warms that maybe he can have that.
He grabs a slender wrist and traces the scars on the palm of his hand, “Oh, my boy,” he says, looking up into eyes blown black with lust, “you’re a gorgeous wonder.” He brings the hand up and gives it a chaste kiss. Credence lets out a small whimper and then reaches up, cupping Graves’ face like the man so often did to him, letting his thumb trace the strong jaw.
“Mr. Graves… would you do something for me?”
“Of course, Credence. Anything. Anything you want, just ask.”
And before Percival could question the curious request Credence dropped to his knees between the man’s own and nuzzled his face into his groin. Graves can feel his already hard cock jump when warm breath presses through his pants. The man gasps and unconsciously tangles his fingers in the horrid haircut. Credence looks up at him like he’s someone worthy to be worshipped and tentative fingers undo his belt and fly, giving him plenty of opportunity to stop it — and he should stop it, Mercy Lewis —but he doesn’t want to and he allows inexperienced hands to take him out and start exploring. The feather light touches were killing Graves but he wasn’t going to force the boy to do anything he didn’t want. He lets his head fall back on the chair behind him and he closed his eyes, lost in the sensations. He couldn’t stop hips from bucking when Credence started giving little kitten licks to his length.
His voice sounded foreign to his own ears, low and gruff, and was barely able to get the younger man’s name out when he started sucking on the tip. Experimenting, trying to press as far as his throat would allow. He kept running his hand along the part that didn’t fit, like he saw the unsavory women his Ma warned him about do in alleys, and his own cock grew stiff at the look of pure bliss on his Mr. Graves’ face. He couldn’t help shifting and rubbing himself against the man’s leg. Percival looked down and the sight of Credence, debauched and wanting on his kitchen floor because of him, was enough to send him over the edge.
“Credence, you should stop, I’m gonna—” But when the boy’s eyes met his own it was too late and he was coming into the heat Credence’s throat. The young man took it in stride—he’s swallowed worse things that his Ma called food before—and didn’t stop until the man’s length softened in his mouth and the hand in his hair pulled him softly away.
With a snap, Graves’ pants redid themselves and he was pulling Credence up to give him another kiss. He drops into Percival’s lap and plunges into his mouth with a passion Graves didn’t know the boy had and when their tongues meet he can taste himself. A possessive heat pooled in his stomach and it’s almost enough to consider another round but Credence is hopelessly grinding in his lap and it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing.
Graves shifts and turns Credence around so his back is to his chest. The young mewls at the loss of contact but Graves makes quick work of his pants and pulling his length out. Percival’s pupils dilate at the sight of the cock that’s arching towards the boy’s stomach, if he had known what those ill-fitting clothes were hiding beneath he may have taken Credence a long time ago. Percival very much wants to put his mouth on it and even with his experience he’s not sure if he’d be able to take the whole thing, the kid is hung like a horse and Graves is sure Credence doesn’t have a clue. The blowjob would have to wait though since the poor boy has been on the verge of coming for a while now. He reaches around and grasps Credence’s hand, bringing it to his own aching cock.
“Show me how you touch yourself.” He said into Credence’s ear. Graves lets his tongue slip out and lick at the shell which causes the boy to gasp and arch into the man behind him.
“I… I’ve never—” Credence said, flushing a beautiful shade of pink and Percival can’t resist bringing his hand up and stroke the color from the boy’s jaw down to the wiry hairs above his cock. Graves begins toying with them, pulling softly and twirling the black strands around the tips of his fingers and he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to bury his face in them one day. He’s snapped out of his thoughts when he hears the whimper that escapes that gorgeous throat. He looks at the writhing creature in his lap and he sees tears streaming down Credence’s face. As much as Graves loves that look, he hates the way he hunches his shoulders in embarrassment.
“Oh, sweet boy,” Percival purrs, “don’t cry. You don’t have to hide from me.” He begins stroking up and down Credence’s side, touching every rib , leaving goosebumps in his wake. “You’ve never touched yourself before?”
“No, sir. Only sometimes, I’d wake up with a mess after having… good dreams.” Credence doesn’t dare mention that come wasn’t the only fluid he woke up in on occasion.
Graves’ hands settle on his hips, “Really? What do you dream about?” He asks, a playful lilt to his voice.
And oh so softly the boy responds, “You.”
Percival’s hold tightens and he lets a moan out. “Oh, Credence.” He said as he reached one hand forward to lock his fingers with Credence’s own while the other comes up and grabs softly under his jaw, turning his face to the side so they make eye contact. Graves leaned forward, “You unman me.” He whispered against the boy’s lips before capturing them in a searing kiss. Percival reached around with their combined hands and begins stroking Credence’s cock in earnest.
With a gasp Credence comes over both of them and then sags back against Graves. With a mumbled word the man cleans up their mess. The boy is shuddering against him and Percival gives a soft kiss to the horrible haircut he’s grown so fond of. “Would you like to spend the rest of the night in my bed, Credence?” He asks, but to his surprise the kid shakes his head.
“Thank you, Mr. Graves. But I really must be getting to bed.” He says, and he stands up and scampers off to his room as fast as his wobbly legs will take him. Graves sits back in the chair, stunned. He thinks perhaps the boy just needs time to process what happened between them. He did just have his first orgasm, Graves thinks slightly smug.
He’s not too worried and he doesn’t press the issue. A month passes and the two of them are happy . Credence continues to surprise, coming to him before bed or dropping to his knees when he got home. The sex seems to be doing wonders for the boy’s mood as well, he’s more relaxed around Graves and his spell progression is continuing at lightening speed. Percival takes pride in the fact that he’s standing straighter and is usually able to hold eye contact most of the time now. But the only problem is that no matter what Graves says or does, he cannot get his ward ( lover! ) to stay in his bed at night. He tries to think if he’s done anything to upset him but he cannot figure it out, it’s always the boy who initiates contact in the first place.
One day Credence is a little less cheery than normal, and after dinner he doesn’t try to engage in any of the deliciously illicit activities the two of them usually take to. He doesn’t press his boy, they both have their demons and their bad days. If it persists in the coming week Graves will make a point to bring it up. He has a glass of whiskey and returns to his bed alone to read a book.
He hadn’t read much over the month since he’s had a more important distraction. But unfortunately, that distraction is rearing its head right now. His eyes skim the lines but all he can think about is soft lips over his cock or his fingers in Credence’s hole. When he notices he’s reread the same line four times he calls it quits for the night. Too agitated to fall asleep he wonders what could be troubling his boy outside the usual. Could it possibly be that he’s upset Graves hasn’t taken the initiative yet? Percival knows how he can be, thinking he’s a burden when he’s really the best thing that’s ever come into his life. Maybe if he goes to him, the boy will be more open to taking their relationship further.
Graves concocts a devious plan in his mind as he pulls on his black robe, not bothering to tie it and letting his erection hang exposed. He’s going to go into the Credence’s room and devour his lips. He’s going to wake him up like that and if the kid doesn’t pull away he’s going to take that sumptuous cock into his mouth and drive the boy crazy with want.
However, his erection falters almost immediately. The moment the door opens he’s met with one of the most morose sounds he’s ever heard. He sidles up to the bed where Credence is trembling and whimpering in the corner, the blanket pulled around him as if he was trying to shield himself from the horrors of his mind. Pitiful noises escape his throat and Graves is heartsick. He sits down next to him on the bed and brushes the dark locks from his boy’s face and he can’t help think how painfully young he looks like this. Before he can wake Credence up he feels a warm wetness seep below the both of them. Percival’s brows knit in confusion but he doesn’t have much time to think about it because the younger man sits bolt upright with a gasp.
Credence quickly falls away from Graves off the side of the bed and raises his hands, “Please, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” He cries, tears running in earnest now and his face is beet red. “I didn’t mean to. Please, Mr. Graves don’t kick me out.” Percival is confused until he realizes what he was still sitting in.
He stands up, making sure his robe it tied, and says, “My boy, don’t worry about it.” He casts a silent Scourgify at the bed and himself. “Accidents happen. I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me. I can help you.” But Credence just shakes his head and keeps his face buried in his palms. Graves isn’t sure what to do but he doesn’t feel his presence is welcome any longer, “You should take a shower and get some rest.”
Credence doesn’t emerge from his room the next day at all when Graves is home, or the next, or the next. Percival knows the young man is embarrassed but he doesn’t know how to bring it up, to tell him that there’s nothing wrong and he’s not upset. After about a week of avoidance Credence begins joining Percival for meals again, a few more days later he’s willing to continue their lessons. But it’s almost as though there had never been any progress at all, in fact the boy seems to be even worse off now than he was when they first started. Simple spells he’s done a hundred times go haywire, his posture is stooped again, and Graves doesn’t think he’s met his eyes since that night.
This has to stop. This has surpassed the realm of awkward and is now unhealthy, and Graves knows he can’t just sit around any longer hoping that things will get better. It’s dinner time and Credence comes shuffling out of his room to prepare a meal for the two of them, before he can begin, however, Graves calls him over to the kitchen table.
“Credence sit down, there’s something I want to talk to you about.”
“Yes, sir.” He says, automatically taking his seat. He’s always been responsive to directness, Percival can only hope his plan works.
“I want to try something if it’s okay with you, my boy.”
“Of course, Mr. Graves. Anything.”
“Don’t you be saying that too freely.” He replies, “Anyway, here’s what I want you to do. I want you to follow my every order tonight. You’ll do only what I say and nothing else. Got it?”
Credence’s furrows his brows, Graves knows what he’s going to say, he always follows his orders. But he has something different planned tonight, “But sir—”
“I asked if you got it?” He said, his voice stern but not unkind.
“Good.” Graves says, coming to take a knee in front of Credence, “Now at any point you feel truly uncomfortable, if I request something you very much do not want to do I want you to say the word ‘red’. Every command is something I want, I won’t trick you, but if you don’t want it you don’t have to, okay?” He brushes his fingertips against his boy’s jaw and finally he sees those dark brown eyes flit to his for a second.
“Good boy.” He says, and gives him a chaste kiss.
“Now I want you to stay here while I cook dinner.”
“Sir—” He tries to protest.
“Yes, sir.” Graves smirks as he sets to work.
Dinner is simple enough. He may not have the boy’s talent in the kitchen but he can make a decent plate of spaghetti. Credence sat quiet at the table the whole time. Percival can feel the tension and curiosity wafting off him, but he’s not going to let him off the hook. Dinner passes the same silence. Credence moves to stand to collect the plates as he always does but Graves stops him, “Credence, did I tell you to get up?”
“I was just clearing—“
“Shhhhh,” Percival hushes with a finger to his lips, “I also didn’t tell you to explain yourself. When I ask a question, answer it proper and concise, okay?”
“Did I tell you to get up?”
“Then why are you?”
“Because I always wash the dishes.”
“Good. I want you to leave them tonight.”
Credence’s brows draw together but he doesn’t question it, “Yes, sir.”
“Excellent,” Graves replies. He stands up, walks over, and holds out a hand, “come with me.”
Credence takes the proffered hand with a quiet “Yes, sir.” And Graves takes them to the living room. He takes his normal corner of the couch and maneuvers Credence so he’s stretched out next to him with his head in his lap.
“Just lay here and be good, little one. If you want to speak tap my leg three time, okay?”
Percival picks up his book and waits. For the most part Credence is totally still, at one point Graves thinks the kid has fallen asleep with how steady his breathing is but when he glances down he appears to be staring into space. A small smile plays on Percival’s lips and he starts raking his fingers through his hair. Credence turns and nuzzles into the touch and seems perfectly content to remain in Graves’ lap for the rest of the night. It isn’t until about an hour into his reading that the boy starts squirming in his lap a bit. Percival doesn’t mention it and waits to see what will happen. After fifteen minutes of tossing and turning Credence finally taps his leg.
“Yes, sweet boy? Is everything alright?”
“Mr. Graves. May I use the restroom?”
“So polite, I appreciate that. But no, my boy, you cannot.”
Credence’s eyes widen at that and he groans, “But, Mr. Graves. Sir, please I—“
“Credence do you trust me?”
“Yes or no, do you trust me?” His voice is stern, leaving no room for argument.
“Yes. Of course, sir.”
“Then just wait. I promise I’ll take care of you. Just have faith in me, love.”
“O-Okay, sir.” Credence says.
“Credence,” Percival says, and he waits for the boy to look him in the eye before continuing. “You can say red at anytime, please remember that. You won’t get punished.”
“I don’t think I want to, Mr. Graves.”
“You know I’d never hurt you.”
“I know, sir. It’s okay, I trust you.” Credence says softly.
Percival feels the possessiveness that always surrounds his feelings for the boy increase tenfold at that. He puts his book down and scoops the young man into his arms. Credence gives a little squeak at the sudden movement and soon they’re apperating to Graves’ bedroom. He gently sets him on his feet in the middle of the room and just stares. Credence shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot under the scrutiny, glancing to and away from Graves’ eyes. Percival gives a snap of his fingers and the young man’s clothes vanish, leaving him totally exposed.
Credence moves to cover his growing erection but Percival barks, “Don’t.” His voice is low and almost feral. He starts circling the boy, taking in the view. “You’re a fucking wonder Credence, absolutely beautiful.” He starts to shake his head to protest but Graves stops directly infront of him and grabs both his wrists in one large hand, the other comes up to press against the lush lips he’s quickly become addicted to. “You don’t get to tell me I’m wrong, and if I say you’re beautiful then you’re fucking beautiful and you better get used to it, little one. Because I haven’t had you in so long and once I do you’re going to have a hell of a time getting rid of me again.” Percival dives in and licks a stripe from his collarbone all the way up to nibble at his earlobe.
The sound Credence makes is completely sinful and Graves’ erection tents in his pants even more. He wraps the long legs around his waist and carries him to the bed. He licks at the seam of his boy’s mouth and is quickly given access. Soon, the two of them are panting into each other’s mouths in a vicious kiss. Percival leans away only for a moment to unbuckle his belt and free his still trapped cock. He slowly starts stroking himself as he drags the tips of his fingers down Credence’s thighs. The boy is trembling under his touch and he gives a high keen when Percival starts circling his hole. Graves sends a wandless spell, lubing the boy from the inside and he sinks his first finger in easily. The young man reaches up to grip Percival’s shoulders but he lightly smacks the hands away. “Did I tell you that you could touch, sweet thing?” The boy’s cock gives a twitch and he’s breathing like he ran a marathon. Once he knows he can do it without causing pain, Graves presses another finger into his hole and hits Credence’s prostate swiftly, then pulls away.
Tears have started streaming from those feline eyes and a litany of “Please, oh please,” is coming from his wicked lips.
“Answer me.” He says.
“No, no sir. Sorry, sir. Oh, please sir.”
“Good boy. Keep your hands at your side and I might let you come.”
Like lightening, Credence grips the sheets next to him. Graves gives a smirk at the wanton creature he’s created.
“Alright, good boy.” And as Percival dives back in for a kiss that’s more teeth than tongue he relentlessly pounds the boy’s prostate and soon he’s coming without a touch to his cock. Graves lets him catch his breath before asking, “Are you okay?”
“Yes, God yes.” He says with a sleepy smile. Percival gives him a kiss to his temple and leans forward.
“I’m not done yet, little one.”
Credence starts to reach down to take hold of Graves’ aching member and as much as the idea entices him, he wants to come inside his boy. Once again, he smacks his hand, then grips it and places it back on the sheet next to the young man’s side. Another snap of the fingers, Graves is naked and his cock is lubed up.
Slowly, he presses into the tight heat below him and he can’t contain his groan. Once he knows he’s adjusted he starts rolling his hips. He reaches out and starts fisting the boy’s cock in time with his own and Credence whines at the hypersensitivity but he manages to get hard again, oh the wonder of youth. Percival props one leg up, resting the boy’s leg over his knee. The new angle allowing him to piston his hips harder and reach deeper, brushing the young man’s prostate with every hit. Quite soon, Credence moans and is spilling over himself again, just a few stands of come landing on his belly. Graves doesn’t relent in his pace though and he sees when the boy realizes what’s about to happen. His cock is soft but a steady stream begins to fall, wetting them both and soaking the sheets below. Credence starts sobbing at that and he brings his hands up to hide his face in embarrassment but Graves growls out, “Where did I tell you to keep you hands?”
Credence glances up into the face above and is surprised to find not disgust but fondness in the man’s eyes. It’s this that makes him reach down and replace his hands where Percival wants them. Graves leans forward, kissing every part of his boy’s face. His lips, his cheeks, his tears, and soon he’s releasing into the body beneath him. He starts going soft but doesn’t pull out just yet, taking the time to brush the dark hair so he can look into the young man’s eyes.
“I love you Credence. That means I love every part of you, even the messy ones. I may not be able to stop the nightmares totally, dreamless sleep can only go so far. But if this is a continued problem that you are still worried about, hopefully I can give you some good dreams to scare the bad ones off.” Percival gives him a soft kiss to the forehead and slips out of his hole. “If it takes me fucking you every night for that to happen, then I will gladly take on the challenge.” He says with a smirk. “Now let’s get cleaned up and go to bed, yeah?”
But before he could do anything, Credence raises his hand and with a mischievous glint in his eye he snaps his fingers, cleaning the two of them and the bed wandlessly and nonverbally. Percival stares in shock for a second before he throws his head back and lets out a laugh. “Oh, my boy. You never cease to amaze me.” He draws the young man forward for another kiss then settles them both so he can hold Credence tight to his chest. “Please, don’t go.” He whispers.
Credence stays that night, and every night following.