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Suitcase Lovers

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                It had been six months since Newt had found Credence in a back alley. Credence was torn apart, bloody, broken, half insane with pain. Newt had ushered Credence into his case and rushed to the Goldstein household. There the girls helped Newt patch Credence up as best they could and it was decided that the secret would stay between them.

                Five months and 22 days ago Newt boarded a boat with his infamous case, Credence still lying in the hut hidden inside, resting, nearly comatose.

                Five months and 29 days ago Graves was found in his own brown stone, hidden beneath a heavily warded trap door. His hair was roughly cut, bald spots scabbed with blood and his eyes dark with rings that seemed to nearly touch his jaw.

                Four months ago Gellert Grindelwald escaped MACUSA custody.

                Four months ago, finally off of bed rest, six hours before news of Grindelwald’s escape broke, Percival Graves walked into President Seraphina Piquerys office and slammed his badge on the desk along with a letter of resignation. Sera, his oldest friend, didn’t argue instead she looked at him and nodded.

“I think this is the right thing to do.” She said in an unusually gentle voice. Graves was taken aback, but nodded.

“So do I.” And he walked out without turning back.

                Three months and 29 days ago Tina Goldstein showed up at his flat, breathless and shaking. Graves knew what had happened before she opened her mouth.

But what he didn’t expect was what she said after she told him of Grindelwald’s escape.

“Credence is still alive.” Graves balked.

“What? How, Where? In the city? We have to get him out! If Grindelwald finds-“ Tina cut him off.

“He’s already out of the city, with Newt, safe.” Graves couldn’t help the sigh of relief. It was his fault Grindelwald had even targeted Credence in the first place. If Graves hadn’t seen his face in the vision and immediately become enamored with the boy, Grindelwald certainly wouldn’t have taken notice.

Tina spoke up again, “I think you should go too.” Graves blinked, confused.

“What?” he asked, rather ineloquently.

“He’s going to come looking for you. You know too much, I know you’ve already told us everything, but you know how he is. He’ll want to tie up loose ends. I think you should go, somewhere far. Somewhere he can’t find you-“

“Somewhere inconspicuous?” Graves finished for her. She looked him in the eye meaningfully.

“Somewhere safe.” She finished for him.


 

                Three months, 28 days and 16 hours ago Graves used a long distance portkey and landed on some island he had never heard of. There was Newt Scamander, cooing to an odd little animated twig in his breast pocket. Graves caught the tail end of their conversation before Newt finally acknowledged him. “I’m so glad you finally came around, but you can’t stay with me all the time, the others get jealous.” The little twig made an odd chirping sound and Newt grinned, rolling his eyes affectionately, “Oh alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

Graves stepped out from behind the trees he had appeared in and cleared his throat.”Mr. Scamander, I’m-“

“Ah, Mr. Graves!” Newt exclaimed, he smiled and reached a hand out, though his eyes found their way somewhere over Graves’s right shoulder.

“Er, yes.” Graves said, cocking an eye brow at Newts antics. Tina had warned him the man could come off as a bit distant when it came to people… he supposed by distant Tina actually meant airy and endearing.

Newt, in a surprising display of strength, gripped Graves arm so tight that he was briefly reminded of one day when Grindelwald had broken his fingers by holding his hand in a crushing grip, all the time demanding more information about the obscurus. Graves couldn’t help trying to jerk his hand away but stopped when he saw the yellow lights wrapping around their hands.

“Tina should have told you a word. What is it?” Graves relaxed a fraction. The light kept him still; he could feel it coiling around his magic, binding him. It wasn’t a pleasant experience but when Graves realized it was merely a safety measure the knot in his throat loosened.

“Arizona.” Graves replied after taking in a deep breath of the humid tropical air. The coils around their hands and Graves magic automatically disappeared and Newt smiled again.

“Wonderful, well, come on down. Please be gentle with Credence, I warned him, but your appearance may still be a bit of a shock.” Newt said, gesturing to the small, innocuous case behind him.

Graves more than understood, but hoped the changes to his appearance would be enough for the boy to tell the difference. Where Grindelwald in his face was always clean shaven, with his hair gelled to perfection, Graves merely combed his hair back and could feel stubble itching under his chin. Graves hair was also a bit shorter due to the uneven shearing he received all too often at the hand of Grindelwald. The patches where hair had been ripped out were still rather sparse, and in Graves opinion, far more gray than before. There were also scars along his jaw from the rough strokes of Grindelwald’s razor upon his once wild beard. All in all the real Graves was a far rougher sight than Grindelwald had been. That was actually something that Graves found himself more and more thankful for as time went on. He looked so little like himself the first time he’d looked in a mirror after his captivity that he hardly saw any of his old face. This soothed him. He had feared seeing a mirror image, he knew it would bring back memories of Grindelwald wearing his face and gloating about how well he fooled everyone that Graves had worked with for nearly a decade. Graves couldn’t stand to see his own face. Grindelwald had stolen even that from him. He knew though that the betrayal Grindelwald inflicted upon Credence while wearing his face was surely worse.

                Before Graves had been replaced he met with the boy often after the first vision. He had ended up spending much of his free time trying to interrogate Credence and find just a single drop of magical blood in him. He pleaded every night to any god that would listen to find a way to get the boy out of his situation. He'd broken every code of secrecy, every law he upheld was upended. All because of the boys meek posture and sweet eyes that shined like the sun when Graves showered him with affection. He was so sweet, so heart-breakingly innocent. Graves couldn’t help the desire to protect him, No-maj or not.

Graves was taken out of his musings by Newt clicking open the case.


 

                Three months, 28 days, 15 hours and 45 minutes ago Graves stepped into Newt Scamander’s case for the first time. He couldn’t help the low whistle he gave as he stepped out of the entrance hut. “This is amazing, Scamander.” He said in awe, spinning around. Newt gave him a quick glance and grinned.

“Yes, I rather thought so too.” He lead Graves to an emptied enclosure that still carried with it sun shine and desert sand. Set right at the front was a small shack. Newt gestured to the shack. “Sorry I couldn’t do anything bigger, limited space you see. But the temperature is controlled and there’s running water. You can go in and look around if you’d like.” He said with an airy smile. Graves set his own case full of clothes, and no wild magical creatures, on the rocking chair that sat still on the wooden porch.

“Actually, I’d rather see Credence, if that’s ok?” He asked, trying not to sound too eager, or bossy. Newt smiled again.

“Of course, I think he’s with the moon calves, it’s about their feeding time, come along.” Newt led the way past half a dozen different enclosures. All manner of settings passing by them, a tropical terrain, open plains, something like a giant ant hill, Graves couldn’t stop his gaping. Then he turned. There, on top of a thin rock structure, holding a bucket as a full moon shined down was a smiling Credence. The smile was small and he still held himself tensely, but his hands moved, tossing odd little floating pellets to even odder little creatures about the size of a golden lab. He giggled as one of the creatures, mooncalves, Graves mind supplied, brushed against his palm, clearly asking to be petted.

Then Credence looked up, and it stopped. His face fell a little, his eyes going a little wider, but Graves could tell it wasn’t fear, just embarrassment at being caught so vulnerable. He made his way down the little rock structure carefully but quickly, obviously the boy was used to all of this. No wonder, of course, he had been here for a little over two months now. Credence set the bucket down and Graves saw him swallow before he approached them, arms still pulled closed to his body, shoulders still stiff. “Mr. Graves.” He said in his quiet scratchy voice. His eyes flashed up to look Graves in the face behind his dark lashes. Graves tried not to gasp as he realized the boys hair had grown out, it was still rather short, but now had waves and a healthy shine. He was clean scrubbed, though his hands where dirty from working with the animals. He was no longer bone thin, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows showing off forearms just beginning to develop muscle, veins pushing against soft skin still decorated with criss-crossing scars.

“Credence.” Graves breathed, moved forward.

Graves’s arms opened and Credence gave a visible sigh and folded into them. He no longer smelled of dirty clothes, sweat, rotted food and fear. Instead he smelled and felt warm and healthy, an underlying aroma of cinnamon and cloves, along with fresh dirt. “I’m so sorry.” He breathed into the boy’s hair, his arms holding tighter.

Credence’s breath hitched and he shook his head minutely. “I should have known.” He whispered, his hands balled in Graves’ shirt, his head turning into Graves’s neck, almost burrowing into him. “I should have known. I don’t know how I didn’t see. His eyes. He never got your eyes right.” Credence whispered, he gave a small whimper and Graves felt tears sting his own eyes.

“It’s ok, shh- shhh it's ok Credence, you didn’t know. No one did. He got in my mind, he knew-“

“But he never was.” Credence let out a small sob, and Graves felt hot tears against his collar. “It was never right. I thought- I thought I had done something. Then he took me to your home and how could he take me there if it wasn’t you? And so I was sure it was just me- and- and-“ Credence hiccuped again. Graves hand tightened in the boy’s hair.

“It’s not your fault.” He whispered back.


 

                The next month passed easily, once or twice a day Scamander would come down into the case to check on the animals and his guests, refilling the ice box and providing fresh meats for both animal and human. The rest of the time Credence and Graves where left to their own devices. The heated looks that had been shared between the two before Grindelwald had waltzed in and mucked everything up was, to Graves shock, still there. He stepped out of his little hut every morning in low slung sleep pants and no shirt, though he usually slept in one, because he loved the way Credence, who was usually making breakfast or feeding the animals, would look at him with a desperate longing before blushing and turning away.

He wasn’t alone in this though. Any time the two would go into the small hut full of food supplies and care necessities for the animals Graves would feel a heat gathering under his collar. When Credence stretched to place or retrieve an item from a high shelf a small sliver of porcelain skin would peak between his shirt and pants. Graves’s throat would go dry and more than once he stumbled on the way out, muttering about enclosed spaces, trying desperately to ignore the small smile on Credence’s face.


 

                Two months again Credence got his first wand. Graves didn’t ask too many questions, already knowing that the odd little man whose make shift tent shop they’d stepped into certainly wasn’t 100% legal. Credence had shed small tears when the wand that chose him had been laid in his hand and silver sparks in a dark mist had burst out, covering the man’s desk in black and silver glitter before it vanished as suddenly as it came.

Graves was proud and happy for Credence. It seemed after Credence began to accept his magic and harness it that the obsurus had retreated, leaving a healing but powerful boy in its wake. A week later Graves was helping Credence with a spell. It wasn’t strictly necessary, he easily could have verbally corrected the boy’s posture, but Merlin help him, Graves was a weak man.

He placed his hand on still too slightly slender hips, one hand moving up the boy’s chest and taking hold of his hand. Credence’s breath hitched, and so did his. “Like this.” he whispered lowly, one hand still on Credence’s waist, the other leading Credence’s arm. “Now you can do that-“ Credence lowered his wand and turned to meet Graves’s eyes, “On your own….” Graves breathed out in a whisper. They stared at each other for a long moment. Graves’s eyes flashed from Credence’s eyes to his lips, and the boy did the same.

The hand on the boy’s hip wrapped around and pulled Credence flush against Graves and the hand that had been on the boys  instead came up to cradle his head. The boys eyes closed and he breathed out a small sigh, a smile on his face.

Graves had said it before, and he’d say it again. He was a weak man.

And Credence was made of temptation.

Their lips met, Credence, the sweet docile creature he was, opened his lips submissively, one hand grasping at the arm around his waist, his wand hand coming up to hold Graves head in place. It was an awkward position, but Graves found he didn’t care a bit. As long as Credence kept stroking the baby hairs along his neck and making abortive little whimpers into the kiss, the whole world could be burning and Graves wouldn’t care.


 

They kissed often after that. Graves was always slow and gentle, his movements like that of a turtles, as to never startle Credence. Credence was always receptive; he melted into Graves, little whimpers and grasping hands with broken sobs. It was beautiful. Credence was beautiful.

It wasn’t long before they began to time Newts coming and going. Most nights Credence would sneak from his own hut, housed where the obscurus from the Sudanese girl had once been, into Graves hut. And by most nights, Graves meant every night. The first time they ever did anything more than kissing Credence’s hesitant hand had laid over Graves’s erection. The older man had groaned, his hips thrusting slightly.

“You don’t have to, baby.” He gasped, laying a kiss along Credence’s jaw. Credence sighed and his hand tightened over Graves’s clothed erection.

“I want to.” He whispered back. Graves cursed as the boy undid his sleep pants and pulled his member free. They didn’t stop kissing as Credence stroked over him. At first his hands were unsure, but between kisses Graves would whisper praises. Telling Credence what a good boy he was, how sweet and perfect, and yes darling, just like that. Soon enough, almost too soon, Graves stopped kissing the boy and held the back of his head. Forehead to forehead, one hand on the back of credence’s neck, one gripping the boys hip, Graves breathed Credence’s name with reverence as he came. White gushed over Credence’s hand, some splashing to cover both their chests. When Graves came down Credence was curled under his chin, kissing along his collar bone with one hand toying at Graves’ chest hair.

Graves pushed the boy to the side so that he was sitting on the bed and Graves was hovering over him. He pushed Credence’s hair back as the boy gave him a timid smile. “Can I try something, baby?” he whispered, his ears still ringing a bit in post orgasmic bliss. He didn’t notice when Credence’s smile tightened, or how he swallowed.

“Anything you want, Mr. Graves.” Graves huffed, kissing the boys head.

“None of that, it’s Percival, hm?” Credence nodded and Graves sank to his knees.

“Sweet boy.” He whispered as he tugged at Credence’s sleep pants, freeing the boys erection. The tip was an angry red, precum drooling out and down the side. Graves groaned and fell on the boy. Credence gasped, his hands twisting in Graves’s sheets, whimpering so prettily that Graves thought he may well end up getting hard again.

Soon enough the boy was begging, his body taunt like a bow. “Please, god Please please” he whimpered, he was shaking, tears leaking out of his eyes. The older man between his thighs groaned and pulled away, licking a stripe up the boys cock.

“It’s ok baby, it’s ok. Cum for me.” He said, he pulled back, one hand stroking Credence, the other dancing along his bare chest tweaking nipples till they were hard and red. Credence whimpered and every bone in his body sagged as he came with a cry. Graves felt something like love in his chest as he took in the boy’s orgasmic face for the first time. His pretty lips where bruised and swollen from kissing, stains of red on his high cheek bones and tears of pleasure clung to his lashes making them darker and heavier. Graves grinned and kissed the boy, then held the sweet child’s gaze as he brought his hand to his mouth and cleaned it of the release. Credence’s breath hitched and he looked at Graves in wonder.


 

Graves was more than joyful at their relationship. The boy was always sweet and attentive, though Graves was a little put out that Credence never sought out his own release, always waiting for Graves to make the first move. Part of him wanted Credence to just take his pleasure, part of him enjoyed the boy waiting for it to be given. It was probably a bad way to think, but it gave Graves a bit of power and control. Two things he had completely lost since his time held under Grindelwald’s thumb.

Graves loved the boy. He hadn’t told him but he did. He loved when Credence relaxed and smiled while feeding Newts odd creatures. He loved the way Credence grinned when he was praised for remembering his reading, or the awed way he still gaped at his wand when he cast a spell correctly for the first time. He loved Credence’s dark eyes and sharp jaw line, how his hair, now almost to his ears, had to constantly be pushed out of his eyes. Yes, Graves loved Credence. And tonight he wanted to show him.


 

Newt had come down that night and the three had sat around a fire on what Graves came to think of as “his” land during dinner. The trio talked about the world above, Newt excitedly told Credence tales of a dragon he’d seen a few months before New York. The red headed man painted a tale of epic proportions, using his hands to describe how he waited with the dragon for nearly two days before it allowed him near enough to heal its broken wing. Credence stared at the man in awe as he described the gigantic beast with its talons the size of Credence’s leg. Graves stared over the fire with a small smile on his lips.

That night before Newt left he informed his guests that they would be travelling, not wanting to stay in one place too long should Grindelwald come looking for them. Newt gave one of his crooked apologetic smiles as he told them that he wouldn’t be down for a day or two, and would you please make sure to keep everyone fed? Graves readily agreed, not believing his luck. He and Credence would be alone for a whole day at the very least. If Credence was amicable, Graves intended to spend most of that day in bed.


 

Later that night Graves and Credence sat on the older man’s bed kissing. Graves pulled back and smiled at Credence, stroking the boy’s hair. Credence’s eyes had a look of bliss as he nuzzled into his partners hand, smiling serenely. Graves swallowed, a bit nervous, though he couldn’t say why. If Credence said no, it was fine, there was no hurry. There was no telling how long they’d be stuck in this case, time stood still here. If Credence wanted to wait, Graves would gladly wait. If he said yes Graves would go slowly, just as gentle as always.

Graves couldn’t say why he was nervous. So he brushed it off. “Credence, darling?” He whispered. The younger man opened his eyes and smiled.

“Yes Percival?” he asked, he smiled dreamily as he turned his head just enough to take Graves thumb into his mouth. The older man’s breath caught in his throat, a dark fire burning in him.

“Credence, darling. I want to make love to you tonight.” Graves said, willing himself not to rush or let his voice waver. Credence released his thumb and looked up at him, brow furrowed slightly.

“Make…. Love?” he asked quietly, tilting his head as if confused.

Graves licked his lips and nodded. “Yes Credence, do you know how it works between two men?” Something passed over Credence’s face, but it was gone in a flash, he swallowed and nodded.

“My- my backside?” came the whispered reply. Graves nodded slowly, smiling at the boy gently. Credence’s brow furrowed and he looked anxious for a moment. “Will it hurt?” he whispered, his eyes casting downward.

Graves caught the boys head in his hands and tilted his head up till they looked each other in the eye once more. “No darling, it won’t hurt. It may be uncomfortable at first, but I’ll go slowly. I promise it’ll feel good baby.” Credence licked his own lips and swallowed once more before nodding.

Graves smiled at him and kissed him. He kept kissing, his hands roaming Credence’s scarred back, until the younger man relaxed. When Credence began his breathless little sighs that Graves loved so much, he pushed the boy onto his back. Credence tensed for a moment, but relaxed again when Graves shushed him.

“I’ve got you baby. It’s ok.” He whispered kissing his way down Credence’s body. He stopped when he got to the waistband of Credence’s sleep pants and looked up at him. The boy had his eyes closed and was biting his lip. Graves placed a kiss over the tent in the boy’s pants, and Credence gave a breathless little “oh” at the feeling. Graves grinned and snapped his fingers.

Both of them where instantly bare. Credence’s cock, red and hard, bounced up immediately; the sweet boy was already leaking precum. Graves smiled and mouthed at the boy drawing small moans and whimpers for him. It was wonderful, beautiful, and Graves could feel his own hardness begging for attention. He ignored it for now and concentrated on Credence’s body. A whispered spell had the boy cleaned and slick. Graves chose not to cast the spell that would stretch Credence; he knew first hand that it was a bit unpleasant. One moment you weren’t ready, the next there was a burn and your partner could push in easily. Graves wasn’t a fan of it; he preferred taking his partner apart slowly. He wanted his boy to feel only pleasure.

Graves went back to mouthing at the boys beautiful cock as he teased his entrance. Credence was whimpering again, his hands fisting the sheets. Finally Graves pushed a finger in and Credence let out a gasped “what’re you?” before Graves swallowed the boy down and Credence groaned again. The boy’s hips moved back and forth, onto his hand and into his mouth. Graves hummed and worked another finger in next to the first. The boy was whimpering so prettily. Merlin, Graves wanted to call it good, just sink into the boy right then. But he didn’t. Credence wasn’t ready yet and Graves had promised to be gentle and by all the gods he would be. He continued servicing the boy as he worked in a third finger. He began to twist and stretch his fingers, Credence still mewling above him. Graves could tell from the sounds that the boy was already crying. Mercy the boy was pretty when he cried, bright eyes and spit slick lips. Graves moaned again just thinking about it and the boy gave a strangled cry, bucking his hips. A few seconds later Graves finally found the boys prostate and began to tease it. Credence took up a litany of “Oh god, oh god, oh god.” As Graves rose onto his knees.

Graves grinned at the boy, positioning him just so. He removed his fingers and groaned as he sunk into the boy. Credence gave a cry and wrapped his arms around Graves, whispering his name into his neck “Perc’val, perc, perc” gasping brokenly. Graved swore as he pushed deeper. Finally he bottomed out and looked down at the boy.

Merlin what a sight, he could have cum just on that. The boys lips where red as blood and pink stained his normally pale cheeks. His eyes were blown wide, sweat sticking his dark hair to his head. Graves kissed him harshly, panted like he’d run a marathon. “Need to move, you ok baby? Can I-“

Graves was cut off by Credence’s bucking hips “Yes!” he keened, whimpering as another tear slipped free. Graves groaned again and buried his head in the boy’s neck as he moved. He was slow and gentle, just as he promised. He rained praises upon Credence breathlessly.

“darling”

“baby”

“beautiful”

“my sweet boy.”

“My love.”

“so perfect.”

Every thrust had Credence whimpering in response and bucking to meet him. Graves kissed the boy again and reached between them. He was close, so close. Credence was so hot, the friction like heaven, he knew he was almost there but he wanted Credence to finish before he did. He stroked him in time with his thrusts. Soon the boy was a mess, begging and pleading. “Please, please, oh god, please, please, Percival, please.” He sobbed bucking again, his head thrashing. Graves groaned and stroked him faster.

“My sweet boy, so good for me, fuck, so tight.” Graves hissed. He bit Credence and the boy gasped, then whimpered as he spilled between them. The boy’s body convulsing around Graves had him groaning out his own release.

He rolled off of Credence and smiled, kissing the boys temple. The boy sniffled, but kissed his collar bone. “You ok?” Graves whispered, stroking dark curls. Credence nodded and shuffled closer.

A few moments later the boy rose, Graves pouted a little, but thought that the boy must be getting uncomfortable with cum drying on his chest. Graves was surprised when the boy returned a moment later; a finger of firewhiskey in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. Graves tilted his head, grateful but confused. The boy approached him and set the drink on his bedside table before gently cleaning Graves’s stomach, the cloth was lukewarm, cool and refreshing without being shocking, then cleaned his own. Graves couldn’t make out the look on his face. He was still flushed and dazed with post orgasmic bliss but there was almost something dark beneath the surface.

Soon the boy was done and slid into bed next to him, curling up in his side. Graves smiled at him and kissed his head, “thank you darling.” He whispered. Credence shuffled closer, nuzzling into his side. Graves had to admit that while surprising and confusing, this was a nice way to come down for the high. A good drink and his partner at his side. Once he was finished, though, Credence rose again. The boy was quick as a cat, Graves heard the tinkling of glass as Credence placed it in the sink, then the click of metal. That surprised him and he rose from the bed, confused. A moment later Credence reentered the room. Graves’s wand, which he had left on the coffee table, was in one hand and in the other was……

A belt.

Graves’s breath caught in horror. Credence’s eyes didn’t leave the ground as he approached Graves. “I didn’t know which one you wanted.” Credence bit his wobbling lower lip, but kept his eyes resolutely on the carpet. “He only used the wand when I was really bad…” He whispered as if offering advice. Graves took a shocked step back and sat down dumbly on his bed. Credence sniffed and placed Graves wand in his lap gently. The boy placed the belt in his mouth and lay out on his back. His hands where gripped tightly at his sides and tears flowed freely down his temples.

Graves was dumbstruck. He didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to shake the boy and the other part wanted to rush to the toilet and expel the drink in his veins. He did neither, instead, in a falsely detached voice that he prayed wasn’t too harsh he said “What’re you doing, Credence?”

The boy turned to look at him in confusion and sat up as he pulled the belt out of his mouth. “I came without permission.” Was the sorrowfully whispered reply.

“Wha- why… I don’t understand.” Graves finally said, a growing pit forming in his stomach.

Credence pulled his knees up and tilted his head at Graves, wiping tears from his eyes and sniffling a little, “He said that’s how it was between wizards. I didn’t have my-my…” he gulped, “cock cage anymore and I couldn’t help it. I’m so sorry sir, I tried, I promise I did.” The boy was looking at the carpet, his lip trembling.

Graves wanted to scream. He felt sick, dizzy, “Who Credence?” he begged as he slid to his knees next to the boy, wand still in his right hand. Credence cast it a fearful glance, then looked back at him. He didn’t say it. He didn’t have to.

Graves felt tears in his own eyes. “Credence,” he sobbed, “Credence, did he, did  he…” punish you, he couldn’t finish it. He couldn’t finish the sentence. It hung in the air like acrid smoke.

Credence nodded.

“What spell?” Graves gasped out, he didn’t want to hear, he knew, but he didn’t want it to be.

Crucio.” Credence whispered, pulling his knees tighter. Graves dropped his wand and let out a sob. He leaned his head against the boy’s knees, crying freely. A tentative hand touched his hair after a few moments. “Perc?” he whispered quietly. Graves gave another gut wrenching sob. He looked up and pulled the boy close, crying into his hair.

Credence seemed confused, but melted into him like always.

It just made Graves cry harder.

His face.

His body.

His wand.

Why didn’t Credence say anything?

Why did he light up like a firefly when Graves touched him?

Why?

They sat like that till Graves tears subsided. Credence was shushing him, stroking his hair.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Graves gasped out. Credence’s hand halted for a moment.

“I didn’t know.” He whispered, his voice thick with tears. “He said that’s how it always was. I thought… And you always gave me permission before, so I thought…” Credence drew a stuttering breath, “I thought you were just nicer.” He said in one breath. A few more tears slid down Graves face, and he could feel Credence’s own tears on his collar bone.

He had, before. He begged the boy to cum for him. He thought he was egging the boy on, telling him how pretty he was when he came, sweet talking him. If he’d known…

But he didn’t.

Neither of them did.

So they stayed like that for a long time.

Tears turned to whispers of comfort, which turned to broken sobs,

Then sniffles

And rest on a dark floor.

The next day was brighter.

Their love making was frantic, Credence cumming over and over till he grinned at Percival and told him to stop so they could feed the animals. He did. They talked as they worked.

Credence was set to rights. His eyes didn’t darken when they kissed, instead his face shined with hope and joy.

They made love again.

That night Percival cried silently. Credence slept peacefully in his arms, gentle puffs of air across his chest. Percival sobbed and kissed his head gently. He fell asleep to a mantra of revenge.

Grindelwald would pay for hurting Credence, for lying to him, for using his own fucking face to do it.

And Credence….

Credence would be safe. Always.

“I love you.” Percival whispered into the dark as he fell into sleep.

There was a happy sigh, and a reply that made his eyes sting with tears of joy, “I love you too.” Credence whispered.