mund | open post.

[ Credence's impatience is endearing, and something Graves doesn't look to curb, not when they're doing this. He can have a life here, and be treated the way he's always deserved to be treated. Graves doesn't know much about what things were like when Credence had been under his mother's thumb, but he knows enough to have a distaste for it. ]

Shh. [ He soothes, his hand moving to the lubricant nearby, unscrewing the lid and smearing it on his fingers, slicking it up smoothly. ] Patience. [ His words are soft velvet, and he keeps his thighs parted with a soft tut of disapproval. He continues to suck his cock before his mouth finds his balls, taking them into his mouth and laving at them, lube-slick fingers slipping underneath him, one pressing lightly up into the tight pucker of his hole, rubbing gently over the rim before he slowly, slowly pushes it in. To think that he will be the one to claim him, to sweep up his innocence and make it his own; Graves is hungry for it, himself already so hard and eager to simply fuck him, to rut into him as is his right.

But no. He might have Credence, but he wants his heart, too. He wants his loyalty, he wants him to burn for him, to need him when they're apart. ]

I need you to relax. Tensing up will make it hurt more.

[Credence frowns at the lubricant, brows furrowed and mouth pinched in confusion.

He doesn't know what he'll need that for, nobody had ever mentioned that. The conversations he'd been allowed to have about sex were few, but this hadn't been concluded. He wants to ask, he would have, but that small sound, that disapproval, it hurts. All the way to his core. More than he can understand in this moment with everything else that's going on.]

I'm trying, I want to be good for you.

[His lower lip trembles and he smooths his hand down his back, trying not to be overwhelmed by the dual sensations of having his cock sucked and fingers pressed against his hole. It burns, at first, feels strange in an unexpected way, but it gives way as he breathes through it.]

I don't know how.

[Relaxing, usually, isn't something someone has to tell him to do. He can, if he wants, but right now it seems impossible. He makes a sound, grunts as he pushes his hips down impatiently, thinking that'll make the pressure ease into pleasure.] Help me, please.

Easy. [ Graves breathes, low and immediately concerned when he realizes that Credence is extremely sensitive to his cues -- he's so very new at this and so eager to please that Graves has to remember patience despite his own mounting lust. He moves up from his cock to kiss him softly, urging him to kiss him back. to distract him from what he's doing.

Credence is new to this, untouched and pristine, and Graves is aware that his young husband's first time with sex should be as pleasurable as possible, trauma to a bare minimum. Unfortunately, discomfort is part of the game even if Graves knows how to negate it, and his hand comes to keep him at bay, drawing his finger back so he doesn't sink down on him quicker than is comfortable. ] Easy, I've got you.

[ As if he's taming a skittish mare, he thinks, and he smiles against his lips. His slick finger comes back to tease at his hole, gently nudging into him again, slow and deliberate. ] Kiss me. I want you to enjoy this, and for that to happen, you must be patient. Can you do that for me?

[Credence dips his tongue into Graves' mouth, tasting the fine wine that he must have had earlier, the warmth almost as intoxicating - and it does distract him, from the pressure and burn, from the way his body fights it at first. It lets him relax, helps him keep his hips from moving so much.]

I do enjoy i-it. Feels really good.

[When he allows himself to relax long enough for it, anyway.]

I can. [He almost promises, vows that he can and will be patient, but he doesn't. They are newly wed and he doesn't want to commit to something that he fears he won't be able to hold steady to. His body is already impatient for more, for sensation and pleasure, now that he's felt it.] I'll try.

[Parting his lips, he kisses Graves again, hard and open mouthed, sloppy.]

[ Credence is so sweetly honest, earnest that Graves cannot help but feel a ferocious possessiveness over him -- especially when he's obedient and stills under his instruction, knowing that he's consciously trying to make himself relax. It's endearing when he's as passionate as he is impatient, and Graves kisses back with equal ardor, fervent and ravenous, as if he's starved himself for too long and Credence is the only thing that can sate.

He continues to fingerfuck him, slick digit moving in and out in long, smooth strokes, getting him ready as he tries to ignore just how tight and snug he is, how much better it would feel clamped around Graves' cock, how everything in him is roaring to simply turn him over and give him a good, thorough fucking, make him cry out into the night.

No, Credence is not ready for that yet (Graves is not that cruel), and he pushes his second finger on with a soft murmur of approval, tongue slipping against his, snagging a hold of Credence's hand to guide it to his own painfully hard cock, wanting him to know just how much he wants him. Against his mouth, he whispers, hot and fierce. ]

Can you feel how much I want you?

[He can feel a steady ache, tight and shaky, forming at the center of his stomach, getting tighter and tighter and spreading out until it tingles down his legs, making the muscles twitch.

Not having expected it to feel this way, Credence struggles to catch his breath, to keep his eyes open. His back arches and he falls back to the bed, only to arch again, hips trying to rock, move and twist. It's strange having Percival's fingers inside of him, blood-hot and thrusting in and out, a rhythmic pattern that his breathing begins to mimic. He wants to fight against the arm holding him steady, the body pressing him down and the command to maintain control. He wants to roll down on those fingers, he wants more and he's so desperate he wants to beg for it, but he can't convince himself to say it.]

Y-yes. I can feel you.

[His fingers curl, gentle in a way that his body can't seem to manage right then. Credence strokes Graves' cock, carefully, as if he's never done it before and he hasn't, hardly even his own, but he wants it to feel good.]

[ There it is, those sweet words. He knows Credence is getting used to the idea of getting fucked, that he's acquainting himself with Graves, and how they are meant to be intimate. He moves against him, falling into a rhythm that he gently coaxes Credence into, showing him how to move and where, getting him comfortable.

Getting him comfortable is the most important thing; and Graves knows that he's learning. He knows he has to be patient with him, and he gently pushes him while he lightly spreads his fingers inside of him, urging him to relax, to loosen up, because if he doesn't, this is going to hurt. ]

Easy now, my love. [ He whispers heatedly, hips thrusting into his light grip, and Graves' free hand comes to close around Credence's in silent instruction. Firmer. More. ] A little while longer, and I'm going to fuck you.

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