
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11366538.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Fantastic_Beasts_and_Where_to_Find_Them_(Movies)
  Relationship:
      Credence_Barebone/Original_Percival_Graves
  Character:
      Credence_Barebone, Original_Percival_Graves
  Additional Tags:
      implied_Original_Percival_Graves/Gellert_Grindelwald, grindelwald
      follower_graves, Emotional_Manipulation, Seduction, Teacher-Student
      Relationship, Pederasty, Credence_is_13_yo, Shota, Underage_Sex,
      Ilvermorny, POV_First_Person, Pedophilia
  Collections:
      Guess_Who?
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-01 Words: 7385
****** All You Have Is Your Fire ******
by x57
Summary
     The whole situation made my stomach coil in something I could neither
     define as desire nor disgust. Not disgust at the boy…but myself.
     ...that was a lie.
     For very specific reasons, Graves is tasked with gaining Credence
     Barebone's trust and collecting him from Ilvermorny to further their
     cause.
Notes
     Title is from Hozier - Arsonist's Lullabye
Gellert told me I would find the boy at Ilvermorny.
Gellert had not told me I would find the boy in year three at Ilvermorny.
Two weeks had passed since I set myself up in a role as “Mr. Graves, instructor
of Defence Against the Dark Arts”. Two weeks had passed in which I slogged
through lesson plans with students from year three to year seven. I had been
informed that the younger two years were taught by another teacher, more
specifically tailored to their age range, and for that I could not have been
more grateful.
I would have been a mess otherwise, and Gellert very possibly would have had an
entirely different problem on his hands. He really should have known better
than to send me--of all people—here--of all places.
Gellert Grindelwald was an ass sometimes. But a very good gambler.
That, however, still left me to deal with the boy. Over the course of those two
weeks, I watched him come in every day, sit in the back of my dusty
classroom—it had been unused for who knew how long and I hadn’t taken the time
to make it my own; I didn’t care to share any part of myself with the school,
even so much as my taste in furnishings—and slump forward so that he became the
smallest student in the class. I knew he was not, in fact, the smallest, having
watched him in the hallways whenever I could get away with it, but he could
make his frame curl in on itself, hunch his shoulders and duck his head behind
the students in front of him, and for the whole lesson, I would only see a
single dark eye and tuft of black hair peeking out at me from the back of the
room.
Credence Barebone was his name, and it was one that conveyed none of his
beauty. Though names rarely did, I was still hit by the sight of him the first
time I stood over his desk and he looked up at me with piercing dark eyes and a
slim, elegant neck, pouty, perfectly curved lips and wholly unassuming air.
The whole situation made my stomach coil in something I could neither define as
desire nor disgust. Not disgust at the boy…but myself.
…that was a lie.
It wasn’t disgust at all. I only wished it was. If I was disgusted with myself,
I might have been able to call myself a better man, if only in intention. A
flawed man, to be sure, but a man with a speck of goodness left in him. In
truth, however, I suspected the feeling of my gut churning and my pulse
quickening and my throat clenching at the sight of the boy whenever he watched
me at the head of the classroom, was a mix of want and of fear. Gellert’s
whispers never left the back of my mind in those moments, for in those moments,
I felt more weak than I had ever felt in my life. I am not above admitting to
fear. Fear kept men alive as surely as reason, and both were railing at me for
letting myself be put in this situation, even by a man who seemed to know no
fear himself. In those moments it was easier to think of Gellert and his
request of me more than it was to think of my own desires for the boy.
It was Gellert’s orders that sent me here. I knew I should not be afraid. I did
not abide society’s laws any longer, if I ever had, and yet this fear ran deep
enough within me that I had, apparently, I only assumed I had rid myself of it.
The moment I laid eyes on Credence Barebone, it sprang forth from the depths of
my memories as a young man and stirred in my gut. Not because I knew what
roiling darkness lay beneath the boy’s skin, and not because Gellert had teased
me over how it would feel to sink my own flesh inside such a thing, how
dangerous it would be to let Credence wrap his slender, creamy arms around me,
but because I knew that that this boy would be my weakness the moment I let
myself gaze too long.
When Gellert had tempted me with the idea, I had laughed, delighted at the
thought of bringing a beautiful little prize home. I had been proud at the time
that he would send me. He could not leave his battles, not even for a task so
delicate as the seduction of an innocent boy who had the potential to be so
important to our cause. I would go in his stead. I had never felt closer to
Gellert, the leader, than upon being tasked to perform as an extension of him,
the man.
Now, of course, I realised why Gellert had chosen me.
He had not told me, nor anyone, the boy would be in year three at Ilvermorny.
He may have chosen me regardless, but rarely did Gellert do anything for only
one reason. He knew the boy’s small stature and innocent bearing would draw my
eye…. Legilimency was one thing, and I knew that was one of his talents, but
Gellert understood people. He moved them like pieces across a board. When I
watched it happen, I was ever grateful to be on his side.
And that was how I came to be here, beginning my third week as an instructor at
Ilvermorny, haunting corridors wherever the young Credence went and presiding
over classrooms full of the bright young things of the next generation.
In spite of my fears, there was no doubt in my mind regarding my mission. I may
put a lot of thought into the ethical conundrums of the world, but I knew I was
not a good man. Even though I had not expected the boy to be quite so…young.
Even though that gave me pause, it did not put me off. Quite the contrary, in
fact—it gave me pause because it did not put me off, and I had tried to bury
those feelings long ago.
The way Credence bit his lip and chewed it, distracted, distant, but eyes fixed
on me all the while during a lecture…. It did things to me I could not have
imagined such a simple, idle motion could do. I had been so far removed from
boys like Credence for so long that every little detail about him steadily grew
more fascinating. I thought he might be tall one day, but he wasn’t yet. His
wrists were so much slimmer than mine. He often wrapped his long finders around
them as though it was a comfort to hold his hands in place and make sure, for
whatever reason, they did not move.
Once Credence had settled into his seat, he would barely move at all. I found
it both unsettling and distracting.
The boy never spoke in my lectures though. I knew I would have to do something
about that. I would have to find another way to reach him, and though I could
think of many, I’d wanted to spend some time getting the measure of his
presence in the same room, and letting him do the same in return. Someone so
skittish would be too frightened if I made a move sooner.
If luck were on my side, and in this case, I suspected luck was named
Gellert—whether by prediction alone or some kind of masterful manipulation, the
boy would be just as curious about an older man as I was about…well, about a
boy as young and pretty as him.
My efforts to find a way closer to him led me to following him wherever I
could. A simple charm placed upon a pen and left near his desk did the trick.
I’d noticed he only had one, and, guessing his temperament, I made sure to use
one cheap enough that he would not be hesitant to pick it up.
It worked as well as I’d hoped. He looked it over and put it in his book bag
straight away, and since I never saw him in the halls without that bag, I
considered it a success.
After that I was able to find him anywhere in the school with a map kept in my
pocket, and I made use of it frequently to pass him in the corridors. I tried
to find out who his friends were, but he didn’t appear to have any. I tried to
guess who he wanted to be friends with, but he seemed only to avoid the other
students as much as possible. And they were not kind to him, either.
Twice I had caught one or more of them cornering him in a hall, towering over
him as he hunched, snickering and belittling him over something I didn’t catch.
I had wanted to find another opportunity to speak to him outside of the
classroom, one that didn’t put me so thoroughly in the role of an authority,
but the third time it happened, they’d managed to pull him into an empty room,
away from onlookers, and I knew I could not let it go.
It was late evening and the room itself was pitch dark with the blinds drawn,
but the door was already open and cast just enough light in to see them. All I
had to do was step inside it to quiet their snide remarks. No sudden movements,
no threats. I just stood there, blocking their way out, and watched as three
pale faces caught in the single swath of light turned to me. They had been
shoving Credence around between them, and now the colour was gone from their
cheeks.
I know the presence I cane make. I’m used to standing at the head of
battalions, not third-years, and this is absolutely not the image I wanted to
portray to Credence.
“Out.” As quiet as I made that single word, it still echoed off the walls in
the silence of that room.
The boys fled. Credence looked like he wanted to.
I felt myself swallow. I tried to soften the image I’d just created. I tried to
bow my head and peer at him in concern. I tried to look like any normal, caring
temporary guardian might in hopes that I could salvage my plan to gain his
trust, but he still shied back from me as I stepped into the room. I couldn’t
tell if he was afraid of me or ashamed of being bullied.
“Credence, is it?” I made my voice as soft as I could make it and stopped a
respectful distance away.
He wouldn’t look at me. He would have been hiding behind his hair if it was
long enough, his head turned to the side just so and his shoulders hunched, but
he managed to nod. It was all I had to work with, but it was something.
I knew how this dialogue should go. I knew the appropriate course of action.
‘Are you alright?’ ‘Let me take you to the counsellor’s office.’ ‘Tell me their
names and they won’t bother you anymore.’ The last one was tempting, but it
would have taken my focus away from Credence himself. None of these routes were
what I needed.
“Here.” Instead, I held out my hand.
He glanced at me finally, slender brows furrowed and mouth turned down so
prettily. He stared at my hand like he was confused and then looked up until
his eyes met my shoulder before he caught himself and they darted away.
To hell with it. I stepped forward and he shied back, but when I grasped his
arm, I made sure the touch was gentle and my words were soothing. “Shh, it’s
alright boy.” It was strange, how naturally the words came from my mouth. “You
don’t have to be afraid of me.”
I was well within his space while trying to comfort him, so much so that he had
no choice but to look up at me. So I ran my hand up his arm and back down
again, trying for a friendly gesture, but…I think I might have been struck just
as much as he was. Imagining being up close to such a boy was one thing.
Actually being that close, touching him, was another. My hand lingered too
long, so I squeezed and tried to pretend it was intentional.
He was trembling. And it hadn’t subsided. If anything, his face went paler the
longer I lingered, and for a moment I thought I’d done it—I’d pushed too fast
and too far, he was terrified of me—but then in the darkness behind him I
caught sight of movement. Something creeping just over his shoulder. Up the
wall.
“Mr. Graves. I-I don’t want to hurt you.” His voice is shaking as badly as his
body.
I looked up just in time to see a formless mass of black rising above the both
of us. Without thinking, I grabbed him and pulled him to myself, raising my
wand with a curse on my tongue, but the thing shot down even faster.
That was when I realised it was not just a mass over Credence’s shoulder. It
was connected with him. His body was hazy around the edges even though it felt
solid under my hands. The thing spooled itself back inside him until he sagged
into my arms, gasping loudly. The trembling, however, had subsided.
“Credence?” I pushed his hair back and lifted his head to look at him. His eyes
were dazed, and a clear, deep brown this close, but he was still pale. He felt
cool under my touch, but my fingers found a sheen of sweat at his temples. He
seemed half-coherent, possibly from pain.
I’d just witnessed the obscurus.
A heavy sigh of relief broke out of me as the realisation came. I couldn’t
stand there like this. Even knowing what had nearly happened, that I’d very
likely just escaped a swift death myself, I couldn’t be found holding an
unsteady Credence in a dark and empty classroom, alone. Nor could I leave the
boy here. Or send him away.
“You have to come with me,” I whispered to him and got him standing back on his
own two feet again. My mind was racing. “Somewhere you can rest.”
His eyes tracked me, and I could see the fear in them. Not fear of me. Fear for
himself, perhaps, or fear for me, I didn’t know, but whatever it was, it
prompted me not to treat him like a child in that moment.
“I know what you are. You don’t have to worry.” I laid my hand against the side
of his face to ground him, or perhaps just because I could and I knew it would
help. He was still leaning against me. He was frightened and as far as I knew,
he’d never had anyone to turn to. There was a chance I could still be that
person. “Please.”
The boy sucked in a deep breath and then nodded. He looked like he was trying
to clear his head. Or trying to steady the thing inside him. Both of us
depended on that.
I offered him a smile, but I knew it was shaky, so instead I put my arm under
his shoulders and helped him to the doorway. Walking the halls like that was a
challenge not to be seen, but eventually we made it out of the lecture wings
and back to my chambers.
I had definitely not anticipated him there on that particular night, but I was
always careful not to keep any papers out and I hadn’t given the place any
personal touches besides my own wardrobe. It had been furnished well enough to
my liking, however, and it was not lacking in the essentials to entertain a
guest. It had been my plan to bring him there eventually, just not quite so
suddenly.
He was walking more steadily on his feet, and I led him to the couch and bid
him to sit without argument.
“Something hot would do,” I mused and squeezed his shoulder before leaving for
the kitchen. I had no idea whether thirteen year old boys drank coffee, or
whether this particular one did, so I made two steaming cups of tea instead.
Returning to the sitting room, I found Credence curled into himself as far as
he could go, arms wrapped tight around his torso and hunched so low his head
was nearly between his knees.
I sat down beside him anyway. I set my cup on the table, and then, gently as I
could, urged him to sit up with a steady grip to his shoulders. I took one
wrist and pulled it away from himself, then the other, and then placed the
second cup in his hands. I held them there, my own wrapped around his over the
warmth of the tea cup, making sure he was steady enough not to drop it. Though
his trembles had subsided, he looked like he would rather curl back in on
himself than hold it.
Finally, he breathed a soft sigh. I’d managed to mold him into a new form. I
smiled and raised a hand to his cheek, knowing it was warm from the cup, and
turned him to look at me. A new plan began to form in my mind.
“Credence, do you know what that was, in that room with us? That magic?”
His next sigh was unsteady. “I think so,” he whispered so softly I could barely
hear him in the silence of my sitting room. “When I first came here, I searched
the whole library. But I only found a little bit. I think it’s called an
obscurus.”
“And that makes you an obscurial.” Good, I thought. The boy knew what it was.
That would help. “I imagine something very terrible must have happened to you
when you were young, for it to form.” I didn’t let him look away, even though
he appeared to want to. “But you’ve managed to keep it hidden, all this time.
That must take a great amount of strength.”
Credence moistened his lips. He looked nervous, but the movement forcibly drew
and held my attention. “My magic isn’t very strong,” he admitted, and I knew
this from observing him in class it was true. “…but it is.”
He was right to be worried. I knew my face was full of concern as I looked at
him. Not all of it was faked. This boy did not have a long future ahead of him.
“You were right to keep it hidden. It’s not your fault, and it’s not a thing
you can control, but….”
His eyes moved to mine, for the first time of their own volition.
“But our laws are not so kind to wizards who can’t control their magic.”
Credence’s breathing turned shaky. He glanced down when the cup sloshed in his
hands.
I moved my hand around his own again, holding him still and drawing the cup up.
“Shh now, it’ll be alright... Drink this” I stroked his hair and moved in
closer as, together, we raised the cup to his lips and he took a sip. “We’ll
think of something.”
Credence closed his eyes and tried not to cry in my arms. With my
encouragement, he drank the tea, and when I set it down, I folded my arms
around him and let him take comfort against my chest.
He calmed that night in my rooms. I rubbed his back and told him I wanted to
help him. I got the feeling not many people had told him that before. By the
time I had to send him back, his tears were dry and there was a new light in
his eye. One that looked a lot like awe.
Maybe even hope.
===============================================================================
I began inviting him to my rooms after that. At first I told him I only wanted
to check in on him, to make sure that he was still ok since the night prior and
to make sure the obscurus was safely back in its dormant state. He acquiesced,
with a quiet and cautiously pleasant air about him. I didn’t think I was
imagining the way his red mouth turned up when I asked if he would have tea
with me again.
That time, he took a tour of the sitting room, running his eyes over the heavy
paintings and the tall mirrors along the walls, while I held my breath and
hoped he would not catch a glimpse of the man with mismatched eyes lurking
behind their reflections, before settling down again upon the couch, unruffled.
I stifled a sigh of relief as I brought the tea. Gellert had been watching
since the night prior. It did not disturb me, but I knew I couldn’t let the boy
catch anything amiss in the depths of a mirror.
We talked and I, unable to help myself, sat too close and offered what little
touches I could get away with. To my great satisfaction, they were not
rejected. The boy certainly seemed unsure of himself at first, but the moment
my hand made contact with his knee, his shoulder, even his face as I spoke
softly to him, ostensibly just to make sure he was alright, he seemed to relax.
It was, quite honestly, the most relaxed I had ever seen him. I had the sense
he wanted to lean into my touches as I wanted to press them upon him even more.
After that it became a regular occurrence. I invited him to my rooms to study,
and served him tea and chocolates, away from the other students whom he told me
still bothered him. There weren’t any he liked, I found out, which confirmed my
earlier observations.
He’d been hesitant to talk about it at first, but I found I could wrestle his
real thoughts out of him with enough focused persistence and the dark
chocolates with cherry cream inside he liked so much.
Deciding to further two goals at once one night while he sat on the couch and
he had his homework spread out, I fetched a box of those chocolates, but kept
them in my lap as I settled down next to him. Immediately he perked up,
expecting me to set them down as usual so he could have a few. He would never
ask for them, but once he knew he was allowed, he savoured them greedily.
I very, very much wanted to see if he would feel the same about other…delights.
As the moment passed and I kept them to myself, he seemed to grow unsure. I
turned my attention to him and offered him a small smile. Something kind.
Something indulgent.
“Why don’t you try to make other friends?” I asked, as gently as I could make a
question I knew to be so fraught with pitfalls.
Immediately, his face soured and he looked away. His eyes moved back to his
papers by default, although I knew he was not really taking them in. He merely
shrugged. “There’s nobody I’m interested in.”
It was a poor excuse, so I reached out and, as gently as possible, took the
papers from his lap and set them down upon the table, just out of reach. He
looked back up to me, slightly startled, slightly confused, but I kept my
expression as warm as I could to ease his tension.
I looked down at my lap. “Would you tell me for, say…a chocolate?” I plucked
one out of the box and held it up between us, eyes on him as fixedly as his
eyes moved to the treat in my hand then back to me.
He was unsure, but I could tell that he sensed it was a game. I smiled a little
wider to let him know that his suspicions were correct.
When he leaned forward to reach for the chocolate, however, I drew it back.
“Ah-ah, not just yet. Answers first and then chocolate.”
He looked chastened. His hands drew back to his lap and his head bowed, but
after a moment, there came over his face a sour look I had not often seen
before. “I don’t like them,” he whispered, rigid and restrained in both posture
and tone, and I got the keenest sense that his feelings on the matter were
stronger than that.
So I shifted closer, the treat still between my fingers, just out of reach, but
I drew my free arm over the back of the couch, around his shoulders, and I held
him with my gaze to encourage him to speak. “Is that all?” My tone was just as
quiet, but there was a playful lilt to it. One I knew had the potential to draw
him out. One that I myself had learnt from a man with the most silver tongue
and persuasive mind. Credence’s eyes did not look back up at me, but I saw his
fists clench.
“I hate them.”
His words were so quiet I could barely hear them. He was trembling faintly, and
appeared both to expect to flinch under my immediate reproach for what he’d
said and, strangely, at the very same time, determined to stand by it as well.
My heart leapt at the chance I’d been given. He would have to do neither of
those things. Instead, I drew the chocolate up to his lips and placed it there,
watching his beautifully red mouth part, ever so slowly, for the treat. He was
so still, I knew he hadn’t expected that. He had probably expected my reaction
to be anything but what it was.
With care, I drew my fingertips down his cheek and watched him begin to chew.
Whatever was going on in his mind, he was calming. I was so close I could see
every one of his eyelashes and every little movement of muscle in his mouth.
The way he licked his lips after swallowing mesmerised me. His lips parted just
so when he was finished, and I knew there was a question on his tongue he could
not bring forth. It was fairly obvious what he wanted to ask. How close I’d
become, leaning my head down near his…. Yet I could tell his restraint in
asking was not out of aversion. It was out of fear, and of saying the wrong
thing.
“I understand,” I told him quietly, gripping the back of his neck so that he
would feel the weight of my words as he felt my hand.
His eyes darted up to me, and I recognised his surprise and—I knew it—a faint
glimmer of hope.
I couldn’t stop myself. I leaned forward over those few inches more, and kissed
him. The sweetness of chocolate on his lips delighted my tongue, but not nearly
as much as the taste of him. My fingers drew into his hair to hold his head and
guide the kiss. He had quite obviously never kissed anyone before, but I didn’t
mind. Not one bit. He followed whatever I did, or perhaps I just took control
enough that he had to, but it was glorious.
When I pulled back, he wasn’t trembling anymore. His eyes were wide and bright,
and never had the no-maj phrase ‘bright young thing’ entered my mind so clearly
as when he stared at me like that, his mouth still parted and chest rising and
falling with deep breaths.
“Are you alright?” I asked, keeping hold of his gaze.
His breath hitched, apparently breaking the spell the moment had over him. It
was amusing how he hadn’t expected me to speak.
“Y-yes, Mr. Graves.” His eyes darted down to my collar, and then, to my great
satisfaction, down farther still before they shot back up to my own.
I was smiling again. It had widened seeing his visual exploration of me, and he
was startled to see it at first. I brought my other hand up to stroke at his
cheek, skin still so unimaginably soft. “I want to make sure no one ever hurts
you again.”
He’d told me about his mother in the night he’d spent visiting my rooms. He’d
told me how he’d been raised, and how, when at the age of eleven, he found out
he was a wizard, men from MACUSA had come to take him away and had her
obliviated. No more and no less than that. He’d been staying at a wizarding
orphanage in the summers since. With the way he was either treated badly or
ignored by the other students, I could easily surmise that Credence had not
known much kindness in his young life. In a way, that eased my mind, knowing
where I wanted to take him, and what I wanted to do with him. My kindnesses may
not have been what he deserved, but they were at least better than what he’d
known.
“I like you very much, Credence,” I told him softly. “Very much.”
His eyes brightened even more, if that were possible, and so I leaned in for
another kiss. This time his hands came up to clutch at my shirt, and, after I
pressed farther, licking into his mouth and causing him to gasp between our
movements, he whined. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever heard.
He had definitely not meant to do it, and gasped after, cheeks colouring
wonderfully as I grinned against the corner of his mouth.
“I-I like you, too, Mr. Graves,” he mumbled, so awkward it was adorable. It
stoked the fire in me like nothing I had imagined. I knew very well at this
point how he watched me, and how his hands clenched into fists when he was
trying not to lean closer to me, and how I must seem in his mind—bigger than
life, impossible, untouchable.
I wanted more than anything then than to prove to him that the distance between
us need not be so great, so I hooked my hands around his hips and lifted him
into my lap, chuckling when his arms wrapped around my neck in surprise more
than intention.
“I’m very glad you do.” I pressed my words, teasing and indulgent in tone, into
his neck before kissing him there. When I began to mouth and lick at the spot,
he began trembling again, so I laid my hand against his back and pulled him so
that we were chest to chest.
And that did it. Something about the full body contact opened him up. His back
arched into me and his head bent to my shoulder, face rubbing there while I
moved his collar back and kissed his skin. He was breathing so deeply he should
have been panting, I could feel it against me, but somehow he was silent.
Forcing himself so.
“You can make noise for me,” I turned my head and whispered against his ear.
“There’s no reason to be shy.”
That caused a great gust of exhalation from his lungs along with a low whimper.
He wasn’t sure if he really could, if he was really allowed, I could tell. But
with his hips against my lower belly and mine underneath him, I could feel what
I was very, very sure was his erection trapped between us, and I was also sure
he could feel mine.
His lips parted and he began to let his breaths make sound, but I could see the
way he furrowed his brows, wondering what to say. I made it easier for him,
tilting his head back so I could mouth at the other side of his neck, and
pulled his hips against mine, rocking up as he came down. What came out of him
wasn’t a gasp and it wasn’t a shout either. He sounded like I’d strangled him,
and I couldn’t stop grinning into his skin. Or resist doing it again.
He made a slightly more dignified noise that time, and I nipped at his neck in
approval, which only caused him to whimper again. Thinking only of how much I
would like to take this somewhere else, I wrapped an arm underneath him and
began to lift him, intent on carrying him to the bedroom, but immediately his
fists latched onto the lapels of my waistcoat with such force and suddenness I
froze.
He must have sensed my intention.
“Shh now, it’s alright.” I turned my face to his cheek and decided to alter my
course. Instead, I lifted him just enough to turn us on the couch, so that he
was sitting where I had been and I could slide down to the floor in front of
him. I kept him close all the while though, wrapped tight in my arms until his
grip began to loosen and it was clear I wasn’t going to move him again. “We
don’t have to go anywhere. We can just stay here. Right here.”
He nodded, and I could see how suddenly frightened he’d been. I drew my hand
through his hair, and watched it soothe him by degrees. “I want to, Mr.
Graves.” His words were a gust of air. An admission of guilt, perhaps.
He didn’t need to say what he wanted to do. He could have just as well said he
wanted me. I leaned in close again, pressing chaste kisses to his lips to calm
him. “I know you do. And it’s ok.” My thumb brushed over his lower lip without
my intent, but I could not remove it once it was there. Credence’s lips were
the softest thing I’d ever felt. There was no need to push it inside. This much
was all I wanted. “Would you let me take care of you?” I moved back just enough
to ask the question and look him in the eyes.
His slender brows drew together, but the lust in his gaze was fast outgrowing
the trepidation. His lips parted to answer, but instead, he only nodded.
I smiled. “Then sit back.”
I pressed a kiss to his lips and then pressed my hand against his chest, firm,
unyielding, grounding him as I pushed him into the cushions. He ended up
slouching, not quite tall enough to rest his back against the couch and still
keep his hips where I wanted them, but that was ok. It would make for a better
angle, and a better view.
He watched as I slid my hands down his hips, moving from the outside inward.
His mouth opened right before my palm made contact with the front of his
trousers. His small gasp echoed through the room. He was just as hard as I’d
suspected, although his length was nowhere near as large as a grown man’s.
I was going to enjoy this.
It must have shown on my face, since Credence suddenly was looking at me and
not my hand, and he seemed fascinated. I flashed a smile, teeth and everything,
and then focused on undoing his trousers. My fingers were quick about it, not
wanting him to have enough time to get nervous, not even wanting him to think
about it, or about anything except the taste of pleasure he’d just experienced.
When he was free, I found his length to be just as I’d imagined. Small and
rigid and so, so gorgeous. Good enough to devour. I licked my lips and could
feel him staring at me again, probably with that shell shocked look, but I
didn’t care. I bent down and took the first taste. Just a single lick along the
underside of the head, and Credence let out a shaking breath. At the second
lick, he gave a small whine.
He was smooth and soft, and I knew he didn’t have long to remain so. Puberty
was just setting in, judging from his height and the length of his cock, but he
had some time yet. I didn’t think I had ever tasted something so wonderful.
Unable to wait any longer, I finally took him into my mouth and sucked.
Immediately, unexpectedly, his hands were in my hair and he was crying out, but
he wasn’t pulling me back. He didn’t try to stop me. He just…held me there,
clutching fistfuls of my hair and trying to restrain himself, or acclimate to
the feeling. I wasn’t sure which, but after a minute, he seemed to realise what
he was doing, and his grip slackened, letting me move. He didn’t let go
completely, however, and something in me thrilled over that. That he was ready
and willing to touch me now.
I hollowed my mouth and began sucking in earnest, giving him slow strokes of my
tongue and swirling it around the little tip. My hands were blessedly free to
roam the rest of his body, kneading and petting him as I worked and he whined.
I could look up at him like that, too. I could imagine very well the picture I
made by the look on his face alone. And maybe the colour in his cheeks. He was
practically scarlet with it, but so desperate for me to keep going.
And so I did. I savoured every caress, every stroke, every taste, and every
twitch of the muscle in my mouth, and I could feel how much he desired me even
before his peak.
When he did climax, his hands were tight in my hair again and his hips were
trying to ride up into me as much as I would allow them. Feeling the tension
draw his body taut under my hands and mouth was as exquisite as his sudden
release. He came dry, and I would have smiled if I could have like that—my
beautiful boy, still such a sweet young thing—but I could feel the climax in
his body through and through, and even the little twitch of his cock.
He cried out softly as I lowered him down to the cushion, gently licking him
through the aftershocks of pleasure without overstimulation. As I looked up to
observe my work, I found him completely boneless, flopped upon the couch like a
little doll.
I grinned to myself and climbed up with him, drawing his trousers all the way
off as I went. He didn’t seem to notice or care much at first. Maybe he thought
I was just making him more comfortable, but when I spread us both out on the
couch and tucked myself behind him, rubbing against his pert backside, he
seemed to catch on.
His dark head turned, trying to look back at me through the ruffled mess of his
hair, but I kissed his cheek. I could feel the creeping tension in him trying
to wake his body and mind up out of its post orgasmic stupor. I ran my hand
over his thigh, drawing back until I could dip a finger between his cheeks. I
rubbed my whole hand there, fingers rubbing up and down and brushing against
his hole, not giving him any time to process it beyond the sensation.
“Shh,” I whispered in his ear, knowing he would question me if I let him have
the time. I had no intention of hurting him that night, or going too far beyond
what he was ready for. What I really wanted to do to him could come later. I
depended on that coming later; that was the whole reason I was there, but I
didn’t want to think about that just then.
Instead, I undid my trousers and muttered a quiet spell for lubrication until
my cock was slick with it, and then lined it up between those delectable
cheeks. I gave it a slow thrust, dragging along just enough for him to really
feel it brushing against his puckered muscle, but then I adjusted it downward,
working it in between his closed thighs. I gave a soft grunt of my own just
then and felt Credence’s heart beating rapidly under my hand as I wrapped an
arm around him and held him to me. My other hand kept his thighs firmly closed
and I began to thrust in earnest.
I knew this wouldn’t take long. How embarrassing, for a thirteen year old with
a schoolboy crush to last longer than me at forty, but fuck, how I’d wanted him
for so long. And here he was in my arms, making little noises with every one of
my thrusts rocking him forward, caught between glancing down between his own
legs to see the head of my cock pushing through, and averting his eyes,
probably thinking, for some ridiculous reason, it would be more polite. I
didn’t care about polite. So I turned his head and kissed him, hard and urgent
with the early sensation of climax coiling at the base of my cock. Between his
thighs.
“The things I want to do to you, Credence….”
I hadn’t meant to say that. Not out loud. But he tilted his head back to me and
canted his hips to push against my thrusts, like my suggestion spurred him into
thinking about it, too.
That was what undid me in the end.
I came grunting his name with my arms wrapped around him a little too tightly
and spurting over the front of his shirt. But I didn’t care. In that moment, I
had him. It was bliss. Pure, absolute, bliss.
I came back down with my nose buried in his neck and my arms still around him,
but gentler now, loose and dazed and so, so good. I pressed kisses to his
shoulder and his neck and the side of his face, and I couldn’t stop. For the
first time, maybe ever that I’d seen, he smiled, glancing at me out of the
corner of his eye.
I cleaned us up as best I could without moving and found a blanket thrown over
the back of the couch to tuck around us both. I didn’t know the time but I knew
it was late. I didn’t care. He wouldn’t be missed, and we both knew it.
Then felt like as good a time as there ever would be.
“I want you to come with me,” I told him softly, pressing the words into a kiss
against his cheek.
His brow furrowed and he looked back at me again. My tone must have conveyed
more than my words. “You’re leaving?”
“I am,” I admitted, bracing for the tension in his body I knew would come, and
it did. “But I want to keep you safe. I want to take you away from all this,
these people who taunt you, and left you with that woman for so long. These
people who allowed such an obscurus to grow within you, without help.” I
swallowed, finding it strangely difficult to continue. That didn’t happen to
me. “These people who would…do terrible things to you if they ever found out.”
Credence turned to me, furrow deeper than I’d ever seen it over his eyes and
the beginnings of understanding spreading across his features. “Where would you
take me?”
“To a man who wants to make our world better than it is.” I trailed my fingers
across his chin, hoping that he would see the truth in my eyes as much as I
drove it into my words. “Where people like that would never hurt people like
you again.”
I hadn’t the words Gellert always had, but I had my conviction.
“Our revolution.”
The way Credence looked at me then…like I was his first, last, and only hope, I
knew what he would decide. But it was more than that, or so I thought. So I
hoped. It was why I had made sure he could want me. Why I knew Gellert would do
the same, binding this boy through his own heart to us and the cause, but I
already felt just as bound to him.
With eyes fixed on mine, Credence nodded.
“Okay, Mr. Graves.”
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