
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10966971.
  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/Referenced_Rape/Non-con, Past_Rape/Non-con, Alternate_Universe_-
      Circus, Canon_Compliant, ish, graves_shushing_during_sex, credence_crying
      during_sex, Smutty, Fluff_and_Angst, Credence_Barebone_Gets_a_Hug,
      Gellert_Grindelwald_Never_Impersonated_Percival_Graves, Protective
      Original_Percival_Graves, Cock_Warming, Come_Eating, Rimming, Underage
      Sex, werewolfism_instead_of_obscurus, drifter_for_fun_graves, he_is_a
      weird_one, rich_graves, Prompt_Fill, Birthday_Smut, for_a_friend_:D, Plot
      What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, the_tiniest_mention_of_theseus, Orgasm
      Delay/Denial
  Collections:
      Anonymous_Fics
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-22 Words: 4427
****** to Wander is to be Alive ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Credence has only known one life, that of a circus freak, an oddity,
     until one day a man strolls in, without the usual propensity to take,
     take, and walk away leaving a shattered mess behind.
Notes
     happy birthday waywardgraves!!!!
      
     yay more porn whew.
He hopped on a train headed out of New York, because he was bored. He had
oodles of vacation time just sitting and collecting dust, so it was high time
to  do something about it .
The city that never slept was beginning to wear on him. It was time to go see
some sights, and then return in as long as it took him to ride back home.
He wore a duster and a tan coat, with his shirt dark navy and pants the color
of charcoal. He looked ordinary, and felt renewed.
 
Percival Graves, Director of Magical Security was no more, for the time being.
 
Percy Graves, or just Graves, winsome and lonely drifter was born.
 
Travelling without magic was certainly an adventure, and he learned a lot more
about the average person, than when simply apparating here and there dictated.
It wasn’t until he ended up halfway across the country, staring up at a garish
banner in yellow and red, that he decided to stop. He’d never been to the
Ringling Brothers shows when they passed through New York, so perhaps the
little troupe in front of him would be worth his while.
He strolled past neon signs and flashing lights, and ignored most of the
displays and the oddities, they were merely charmed or enchanted, and fooled
no-maj’s easily enough. He was not the usual customer, it seemed.
There was only one banner that he saw, that caught his eye, and forced him
forward, ever closer, to investigate properly.
He’d never heard of such a thing. A domesticated werewolf? Much less a trapped
one. Usually they slaughtered anyone who tried to get too close.  Protego  was
no use against a creature with a moon addled mind, and human DNA at their core.
Ignoring the man sitting outside the small structure, only to toss him a
dragot, Graves stepped up and began to walk inside.
“Oy. wait a minute, you haven’t heard the tale!”
Graves glanced back, with a slight quirk to his lips, not a smile, not a smirk,
not yet.
“What’s that then? A wild story of how you managed to tame a werewolf? More
than likely, it’s some hairy no-maj you’ve  imperiused . I’m less than
thrilled. Be glad you got paid rather than stunned.”
The room was all but empty, for a cage. In the dim light, that much of which
that streamed in through the cracks in the fragile walls, Graves could just
make out a pale, slim figure curled into itself beyond the bars, at the very
back of the cage, with no visible fur, or even excessive body hair, but for a
dark mass of waves on their head.
Frowning, he turned around to see the hosting sleaze following him in, arms
crossed, and a brow lifted.
Graves hissed out a breath, and cast a silent  revelio , and there was nothing,
no indication of other spells at work, nor visible restraints.
‘Where is the real creature?’  He wondered to himself.
“S’not nighttime during a full moon.” The host spit out, and Graves realized he
must have put his query to words by accident.
“I see.”
How young could the werewolf be, to be so docile? There were no marks, no scars
from a whip, and certainly not a sound uttered, the closer he got, the more
intriguing the figure became.
Of course, the beast was mere boy, right now, hidden away from what would cause
their transformation. So had Graves just allowed himself to be robbed of his
somewhat precious dragot?
Hell no. Though he’d brought more than enough pocket change for his trip, it
didn’t matter. He wasn’t about to throw a single bit away.
Graves gritted his teeth, determined, one way or another, to get his money's
worth.
He was much stronger than he looked, currently, so a proper glare did the job
better than his fists could, sending the idiot host running off.
He dropped to his knees beside the cage, and tapped a bar, snagging the
creature’s attention. It lifted it’s head and turned to look over at him, dark
waves sliding over its pale skin, blinking brown eyes red from crying, and
revealing cheeks wet with shed tears.
“Hello there. So you’re the fearsome, mythical, big bad wolf?”
Graves can’t help smirking, but the expression slid off his face the second he
focused, and realized that the werewolf, still as a human, couldn’t be an
Ilvermorny graduate. His soft cheeks framed a sharp jawline, but lanky limbs
and his overall hairless form belied a young age.

 “Yes sir. Are you scared of me?”
 
Graves tried to smile again, more gently now, and held out his hand, curling
his fingers with a silent  alohamora , unlocking the door, freeing the beast,
somewhat.
He could feel a charm around the building, that would keep the boy in, should
he try to escape. Magic licked against his skin too, but he was no threat,
having paid his entrance fee.
The boy got up slowly, wincing from his body’s soreness, no doubt used to
resting when not transformed, and crawled over to him, rubbing his cheek over
Graves’ knee closest to him.
He tried to ignore how it made his heart skip a beat, and his cock twitch in
his pants, but the boy’s sheer otherworldly beauty made it very difficult.
He was painfully sweet, and it was frightening to consider how young he’d been
when first bitten, and then gotten caught by the circus.
“I can help you. I can get you out of here. I just need you to do something for
me.”
The boy blinked up at him, dark liquid stare easily entrancing him, making him
that much harder,
“Sir, I’m yours to command. You paid for your visit.”
Graves cupped a hand against the boy’s face, revelling in the silkiness of his
skin, rubbing a thumb over his damp cheek, brushing away any more tears.
“I mean it. Do me a favor, and I’ll take you with me. I promise.”
The boy seemed confused, poor thing, and reached up to press his hand over
Graves,’
“Everyone says that sir. I must always refuse. I am the property of the Grand
Master. I cannot go with you. But I will do anything you ask.”
Graves inhaled sharply.
That won’t do at all.
Guilt was gnawing at him, deep down, the thought of walking away, just
returning to his life someday, to work, knowing he’d left such an innocent and
defenseless creature behind, would likely bother him for the rest of his life.
It certainly didn’t hurt that the boy was so lovely.
Mercy Lewis.
“Come here.”
He stood back up, drawing the boy with him, so that he was kneeling proper
before Graves, and he licked his lips, drawing his gaze to them instantly.
Oh, how pink, plush, and simply begging to be kissed the boy was.
His thumb dropped down to drag at the boy’s bottom lip, and revealed perfectly
normal human teeth, a bit crooked, but clean enough.
So they fed him something decent and looked after him enough. But did they keep
him in the cage  during  the full moon?
What horror.
“What will you have me do sir?”
Graves managed another deep breath, and then reached to his fly with his other
hand.
“Hold me in your mouth. Do nothing else. Keep still while I think. All right?”
The boy nodded, looking on the verge of smiling happily, until Graves’ cock
nearly smacked him in the face and he murmured an apology, five seconds before
it was swallowed down the boy’s throat.
 
“Stay. Good boy.”
 
The boy’s mouth was wet, warm, and in general, quite comfortable, but even as
he simply swallowed and breathed around Graves’ cock, little slivers of
pleasure crawled down his spine, and thinking became a bit more difficult than
he’d anticipated. Disapparating from the building was out of the question, and
just destroying the protective spells and enchantments around the circus was
much more trouble than it was worth. Graves put a hand to the back of the boy’s
head, fingers carding through his hair, the nape of his neck soft, almost like
downy fur, and the boy hummed around him.
He was excellent at warming Graves’ cock, and in fact, he didn’t really want to
keep still much longer.
He glanced down, drinking in the sight of the rest of the boy, folded at his
feet. He had unmarked creamy skin over his back and front, with two pert pink
nipples, and further down, his stomach dipped in as his soft slim cock rested
in repose atop his thighs. Oh yes, he was beautiful to look at, and would be a
treat to fuck.
Graves hummed to himself, and the boy made a questioning sound, along with a
gentle tap from a hand against one of his legs. He tightened his hand in the
boy’s hair, and tugged him back, so that his pretty mouth let go of Graves’
cock, connected only by a string of drool.
“I’d like a bit more now, I think.”
“Anything sir. Do you want me to bend over?”
 The boy was shuffling up and already standing in front of his cage, turning
back to ensure Graves was watching, as he drew attention to the soft swell of
his ass.
Graves’ throat went dry, and he stepped close to put his cock flush behind the
boy, then dropping a hand to each hip, feeling as he jumped in response to the
fairly gentle touch.
“Am I to understand I won’t be your first?”
“No sir. Every time after they heal me. So I can be properly tight again for
the next customer who desires it.”
The boy’s cheeks turn pink with the admission, and Graves wondered if he was
the first to be told such a truth. If the boy lied to everyone else, and
assured them he was a virgin, just for them.
The thought infuriated him, and he tried to count back from ten, before
reaching down to thumb over the boy’s tightly furled entrance. His hole was
pink and as hairless as the rest of him. The touch made him twitch, but not
away, he pushed back into it, silently begging for more. Graves complied
instantly, murmuring low for a lubrication charm, because no, he wasn’t about
to make the boy bleed, not when he’d likely been railed many times before by
some thoughtless idiots.
He pressed another finger in, and the boy mewled, writhing beneath his hand,
trembling under the hand steadying his hip. Before Graves could stop himself,
he leaned down, and put his mouth to the boy’s shoulder, kissing him and then
licking up his neck, nipping gently at the unblemished skin, leaving a pink
mark which would fade in moments. The sight of it only made him want to do
more, and claim the boy as his own, permanently.
Adopting a werewolf would probably not go over very well back home, but the
Graves estate was vast, open areas of equally grassy and forested land. The boy
could be free, more so than he would ever find inside a cage, kept as a circus
freak, for amusement of the masses.
Sooner or later, if he stayed there, in the troupe, he would end up biting some
fool who got too close during his transformed time, then he would need to be
put down.
Such a gorgeous creature, barely in on his way to being an adult, why, that
would have been a crime, to slay something so sweet.
Graves petted the boy’s side, before withdrawing his hand, dripping with slick,
and putting it to stroke over his cock, groaning aloud.
“Sir? May I touch myself?”
Graves swallowed, and shook his head,
“No. I’ll make you come when I want to, don’t you worry.”
He dragged a hand from the boy’s hip to splay over his lower back, the ridges
of his spine very obvious under his fingers, as he lined up his cock, pushing
the head against the warm slickness of the boy’s hole, staring at the pink
flutter of muscle.
It was as if the boy’s ass was hungry for his cock, desperate to be filled with
his come, and Graves couldn’t resist any longer, thrusting inside, fully
seating himself in a heartstopping moment.
The boy gasped, and shuddered beneath him, hands braced flat on the top of the
cage, as he was bent somewhat over it, but framed under Graves’ hold.
“Perfect.”
Graves managed to croak aloud, before pulling out halfway, nudging back in, the
hot grasp on his cock enough to throw him dangerously close to the edge, after
such sweet torture, the bliss of the boy’s mouth on him, teasingly gentle,
compared now to fucking him.
He didn’t want to ignore the boy, but he was doing his utmost to seem
indifferent, lest he get his hopes up only for Graves to be unable to rescue
him. He kept one hand on the boy’s hip for leverage and the other at his
shoulder, gripping tightly, as he pumped his cock deeper, groaning at the feel,
and the boy head fell back, resting against his shoulder, lips grazing his
cheek, begging for a kiss in vain.
When his orgasm washed over him, making every cell in his body tingle and
spark, Graves tilted his head down to nip at the boy’s neck, and sucked hard,
leaving a mark that would need magic to be removed, and he savored the gasp
that escaped the boy’s throat.
Sliding his hand around the boy’s waist, caressing the smoothness of his skin,
he wrapped his fingers around the boy’s dripping cock, and stroked over him
under he heard a whimper, and wetness spilled onto his hand, as the boy came.
“Sir, please…”
Whatever the boy was about to say, Graves shushed him, and pulled back, kissing
his way down the knobs of his spine, until he was licking right between his
cheeks, tasting himself mingled with the slippery sweet of the lubrication. His
own invention, to make the cleanup more interesting. A former lovers idea, he’d
finally seen the reason, when he’d first let someone take him.
The boy tried to jerk away, hyper-sensitive no doubt, but Graves merely smiled,
and held him tighter, kissing lower and sucking hard, leaving a mark on the
silky soft skin of his taint.
So he would feel it with every step he took, beyond having just been fucked.
When he stood back up and began to redress himself, the boy turned around on
coltish legs, and looked at him with teary eyes.
“You’ve been a delight, dear boy. Not much of the wolf in you after all, but
now  I  am.”
He couldn’t help the smirk that split his lips, and the boy’s eyes locked on
his mouth as he licked over his bottom lip, before leaning in to peck the boy’s
own with a kiss.
The boy chased after it for a moment, and then threw his arms around Graves’
neck, clinging to him in a sudden show of affection.
“What’s this?”
“Sir… no one has ever been so considerate.”
The boy’s bottom lip wobbled, and fresh tears spilled over his cheeks, forcing
Graves’ heart to lodge in his throat. He was not going to abandon the boy.
He couldn’t.
The gratitude he would show him would more than enough be motivation for him to
stay and serve him well.
“That’s too bad. You’re not an animal to be kept in a cage. You’re a soul who
deserves a second chance.”
The boy drew in a ragged breath,
“The master says I am a diseased wretch. Born beneath a full moon, a monster.”
Graves put a hand to the boy’s cheek, cursing himself for adoring the way that
the boy nuzzled into his palm, as he clucked his tongue into his teeth,
“Nonsense. You’re no more a monster than a vampire is. I don’t suppose there’s
one here?”
The boy’s eyes widened, and he shook his head furiously,
“A blood drinker? Oh no sir. We have not got one of those.”
“Good. They’re dangerous. Unpredictable.”
Graves palmed his wand, still tucked into his jacket, and glanced away from the
boy, taking in the building again, the cage hanging open, looking bereft.
It would no longer house the beautiful boy who sometimes became less than
human.
“Wait here. I’ll be back in a moment.”
The boy nodded, and then sunk down into the floor again, content to remain
outside his cage.
 
Graves strode outside with purpose, and tested the host by hexing him, a simple
incarcerus , upon receiving no battle, he watched the man collapse, and he
grinned to himself.
A squib, it seemed.
Leaving a squib to guard a werewolf was very foolish indeed.
 
*
 
Credence’s head was spinning, but the instantly the pressure on his lungs
subsided, and he could breathe deeply, he felt nauseous.
A broad palm clapped over his back, nudging him forward, and he coughed.
“It’s quite normal to feel sick. Side along apparation isn’t easy.”
“Sir, what is that? Where are we?”
“Somewhere outside Albany. I don’t know the name, because, you see, it’s
unplottable. My family estate.”
The man held out a hand, and as he took it, he was helped to his feet in a
swift instant, throwing off his balance, causing him to crash into the man’s
chest, hard muscle not quite softening the impact.
He stammered out his apologies, but looked up to find the man smiling gently.
“Not to worry. Tell me, dear one, what’s your name? Besides the wild werewolf?”
Credence blinked at him, and tried not to cry.
“It’s just Credence sir. But no one ever calls me that.”
“Why, it’s a suitable name. I’m Percival Graves, at your uh, service. Welcome
to my country home.”
He smiled again, and Credence ducked his gaze to the ground, wishing he could
shrink right into it. He couldn’t possibly set foot inside a house, not in his
current state. He needed clothing. He looked horrific. He could still feel wet
stickiness sliding down his thighs.
“Thank you sir.”
“Here.”
Heavy fabric was thrown about his shoulders, and Credence realized the man had
set his coat over him, and he shivered at the sudden warmth seeping into his
skin. It was far too large for him, and so he didn’t even attempt to put his
hands through the sleeves, but he blinked up in gratitude, trying to find the
right way to convey his thankfulness beyond words.
“Come now. I’m sure you must be starving. I am. Been on the road two weeks and
yet here we are, back to square one. A fruitful trip though, to be sure.”
The man, Mister Graves, put a strong arm around his waist, and tugged him
close, guiding him up to the main gardens, and towards the front of the house.
It was a vast mansion, hardly fitting to call it a home, Credence thought to
himself..
Certainly not a place he deserved to stay in, and he faltered at the threshold,
but Mister Graves urged him forward, and he obeyed, as it was all he could do.
“How old are you, Credence? How long have you been a werewolf?”
“Fourteen sir, I’ve been transforming every full moon for as long as I can
remember.”
The man sighed, and put a hand to his temples,
“I’m sorry to hear that. You must have been very young when you were bitten.”
Credence frowned, confused.
“Bitten? Sir, I was born a monster.”
“Stop it. You’re not a monster. You were turned into what you are by a careless
fool, or worse, someone who did it deliberately,  they  were the real monster.”
Mister Graves framed his face in both of his large hands, and Credence was
forced to meet his gaze, watching as he leaned in close, and pressed his lips
to his own.
His eyes remained wide open for a few moments, before he felt warm wetness from
the man’s tongue grazing over his bottom lip, and he gasped in surprise,
allowing it to slide between and into his mouth.
“Credence, dear boy, I want to give you things, make you feel safe. Will you
let me take care of you?”
“Yes. Please.”
Credence found himself begging, and the man kissed him that much harder, before
then pulling him flush to his body, letting him feel the hardness digging into
his hip.
“You see what you do to me?”
He could only nod, and the man’s mouth left his own, to kiss and lick over his
neck, nipping to mark him, first gently, then a bit harder, so that he squealed
and squirmed against him.
“We can eat later. I need you right now.”
The man scooped Credence into his arms, and walked purposefully down a long
hallway, before kicking a door in, and revealing a lavish and spacious bedroom
which he barely had time to take in, before he was being placed on a four
poster bed, and Mister Graves was putting his mouth back to his skin, pushing
open his coat and putting a hand to one of his nipples.
Mister Graves pinched it just enough to make him jump and try to shrink away,
before letting go, and kissing his navel, then right down the dip of his
stomach and the curve of his hipbone, before rubbing his cheek against
Credence’s own aching cock.
The head was slick, dripping onto his skin obscenely, before the man had even
touched it, and Credence cried out from the feel of a mouth over it.
No wonder men paid so highly for such a thing, it felt wondrous, magical, and
his back arched as he pushed up into the touch, silently begging for more.
Mister Graves chuckled against him, the sound vibrating through his body, heat
blooming over his abdomen, as a firm hand pressed his hips back down onto the
bed,
“I’m going to fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk. I’ll bring you
breakfast in bed, and then have you again. How does that sound?”
Credence was mindless, drowning in the pleasant sensations coursing through
him, so unaccustomed after years of torment and pain, he barely realized when
his orgasm started until he felt Mister Graves pull away, and a tight grip at
the base of his cock, halting everything in a sudden crash of feelings.
He gasped and looked down to find a golden ring gleaming around him, slid into
place by the man’s deft fingers, before a kiss was placed on the tip of his
cock, and he jumped.
“There we go. Can’t do silver, might hurt you. This way you’ll get to come when
I say.”
Credence blinked away tears of bliss,
“Thank you sir. Are you going to…”
He trailed off, as Mister Graves reached down and rubbed a fingertip over his
hole, and he felt another spear of arousal jolt down his spine, ever teasing,
and pointless in a way, as he was prevented from finishing, with the ring on
him.
The man moved back to begin shedding his own clothing leisurely, almost
painfully slow, but his prominent erection betrayed his own wants, though when
Credence reached for it to help, his hand was slapped away.
“Not yet, my boy.”
As he watched, Mister Graves put a hand to himself, stroking over his cock,
which looked frighteningly thick, head on. The man smirked down at him, as
Credence drew the inevitable comparison between them.
His own cock was much longer but very thin, barely as wide as the man’s biggest
finger, and continuously weeping clear fluid, red and flushed at the tip.
“Please.”
His voice sounded hoarse, and he saw how the man’s smile twitched,
“You want my cock? You want me to fill you up, with no preparation?”
Credence had taken worse, he knew, so he just nodded. He was desperate to be
touched.
Mister Graves pushed his legs further apart, pinning one against his chest and
dragging a hand over his other calf, making his skin turn to gooseflesh, before
bringing that leg up to rest on the man’s shoulder, turning to kiss Credence’s
ankle, thrusting against him, not quite catching his cock against his sensitive
rim.
“Please!”
There was a slight burn of the stretch, before he saw Mister Graves’ mouth move
silently, and a slow slick press, as the man’s cock slid fully into him, making
him arch his back, shifting closer, tears stinging his eyes.
It hurt, but better than any other encounter had.
Even their first had been so good, so nice, and yet not quite enough.
Now he was kept on the edge of coming, forced over it but not able to yield his
orgasm, instead, he felt every inch of Mister Graves pounding into him, hands
scrabbling for a hold on the man’s chest, shoulders, and the eventual meeting
of their lips, distracted him just a little.
“It’s going to be hell keeping my hands off you when the moon becomes full.”
Mister Graves sighed against his neck, before kissing him again, making him
wonder if maybe there was a way, if there was magic to slow it or change it, so
that he wouldn’t need to be a wolf for nearly as long as usual.
“Thank you sir…”
“Don’t thank me yet, sweetheart. You’re still hard.”
The man cooed against his ear, thrusting in harder, deeper, fucking Credence
through his own orgasm, and he could feel as well as hear the squelch of the
man’s spend inside him, spilling out around his cock, wetting the sheets
beneath him.
“May I come now?”
Mister Graves chuckled, collapsing atop him, so that he couldn’t help but rut
up, thrusting his painfully hard cock into the firm muscles of the man’s
stomach, trying to seek out friction by any means necessary.
“Yes you may… good boy.”
Credence’s eyes shot open and he moaned wantonly as he felt the ring vanish,
and his cock finally pulsed out rope after rope of come onto his chest, and
even up to his neck, while Mister Graves reached a hand down to finger at his
still slippery opening, making him shiver into the aftershocks coursing through
his body.
“Thank you.”
“You’re quite welcome, my boy.”
Credence didn’t notice being cleaned by a spell, but he  did  feel the softness
of a blanket tucked around him, and dimly noted a kiss ghosting over his cheek.
Strong arms held him until he fell asleep.
 
*
 
end
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