[Credence has learned, over time, that he's incredibly lucky to have met Percival Graves. The life he lives now, wealth and luxury, extends beyond fulfilling basic needs, and while he's no longer hungry or cold at the worst of times, he's stumbled into the exquisite pleasures that only someone like Graves could afford to give him. Give them both. Their relationship at home is, as it's always been, strong and flourishes every day. He can't remember the exact moment, or if it wasn't from the second he saw him, but he loves Percival with everything he has and is. He trusts him. They settle into their new, grand apartment - something that is both of theirs, though it bares more of Graves' style with touches of Credence throughout.
And then they pick up right where they left off. With the club.
He's no longer new at this. He doesn't need a guiding hand or for Percival to walk him through everything. Credence knows what to say, when to say it, and most importantly, he knows exactly what he likes. There are rules, his own rules, that he wouldn't let anyone break - not even Graves. There are rules that they have together, so that Credence never feels jealous or uncertain. They walk a fine, high-strung line and it works for them so well that it often feels unreal. It's a part of their understanding, it's the only way something like this would work for someone like Credence.
It hasn't been so long that he's forgotten, but it's been long enough that the anticipation has built up inside his chest, raw and pounding to get out. And the goddess in the gold dress sings - ]
I walked into the room dripping in gold Yeah dripping in gold I walked into the room dripping in gold Dripping in gold A wave of heads did turn, or so I've been told Or so I've been told My heart broke when I saw you kept your gaze controlled Oh I cannot solve
[Credence's eyes are closed, rocking side to side as he listens to the sound of her voice, the press of Percival's mouth against his own. The hand cupped so possessively above his ass, fingers moving down over the plug, and he feels so beautiful in the clothes his husband had picked out for him, the smudge of liner around his eyes and the lipstick that took half an hour to apply so it wouldn't come off. He blinks, rolling forward and turning so that his back is pressed to Graves', a hand coming up to tug his robe apart, letting it fall open.]
I want.. [He nods to the singer.] .. her to watch.
Can you do that for me, Daddy?
[The rest - whether Graves fucks him or someone else sucks him off or if Percival forces him to his knees or bends him over a nearby surface or has him ride him until he passes out - he doesn't care.]
no subject
And then they pick up right where they left off. With the club.
He's no longer new at this. He doesn't need a guiding hand or for Percival to walk him through everything. Credence knows what to say, when to say it, and most importantly, he knows exactly what he likes. There are rules, his own rules, that he wouldn't let anyone break - not even Graves. There are rules that they have together, so that Credence never feels jealous or uncertain. They walk a fine, high-strung line and it works for them so well that it often feels unreal. It's a part of their understanding, it's the only way something like this would work for someone like Credence.
It hasn't been so long that he's forgotten, but it's been long enough that the anticipation has built up inside his chest, raw and pounding to get out. And the goddess in the gold dress sings - ]
I walked into the room dripping in gold
Yeah dripping in gold
I walked into the room dripping in gold
Dripping in gold
A wave of heads did turn, or so I've been told
Or so I've been told
My heart broke when I saw you kept your gaze controlled
Oh I cannot solve
[Credence's eyes are closed, rocking side to side as he listens to the sound of her voice, the press of Percival's mouth against his own. The hand cupped so possessively above his ass, fingers moving down over the plug, and he feels so beautiful in the clothes his husband had picked out for him, the smudge of liner around his eyes and the lipstick that took half an hour to apply so it wouldn't come off. He blinks, rolling forward and turning so that his back is pressed to Graves', a hand coming up to tug his robe apart, letting it fall open.]
I want.. [He nods to the singer.] .. her to watch.
Can you do that for me, Daddy?
[The rest - whether Graves fucks him or someone else sucks him off or if Percival forces him to his knees or bends him over a nearby surface or has him ride him until he passes out - he doesn't care.]