[A/N: Probably not what you were looking for, but I hope you like it all the same...]
Credence runs his thumb down the jagged line that arches up Graves' inner thigh. He commits each curve and spike into memory. Graves sits with one arm behind his back, and the other with his fingers holding a cigarette. Dark eyes watching him.
He turns his head to the series of healed over cuts just above his adonis belt. Shifting, the movement brings his face a little too close the pull of Graves' cock. Laying heavy and thick on his other thigh. Mind salivating on the memory of that same organ in his mouth last night, he pushes the thought away for later.
Gently tipping his head to press his lips to a circular scar above his hip bone, "This one?" Credence breathes out, moving his hands onto Graves' waist.
"He thought he wanted to see if I could burn." Graves answers, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. Credence waits for the veil of smoke to dissipate. Graves is still watching him intently.
"How about this one?" He asks again, climbing up to stradle Graves. He runs his index finger over a wicked and thin gash on Graves' chest.
"He wanted to see me bleed."
Credence doesn't look up. Leaning down, he kisses one end of the scar, laving his tongue down the length of it before bookending it with another kiss. "This." He asks, mouth pressed to a healing mark over his left breast.
"Cruciatus."
"What's that?"
A gentle hand comes to urge him up. "I'll teach you all about it. For when we find that bastard and make him pay." Graves smiles, the curl of his lips brittle and joyless. He extinguishes his cigarette, moving both hands to pull Credence up into a press of their lips.
"You promise to teach me a lot of things." Credence says when they pull away. Graves takes Credence's palms in his, pressing his mouth to where Ma's cruelty is visible on his skin, his lifeline, his wrist.
"I did. And I will teach you all of them." Graves says in between calm and measured kisses. Credence is not so naive now that he cannot see a motivated gesture.
He allows him this. "All right." Credence replies, tilting his head to map out the scars on Graves' face.
Fill: Credence/Real!Graves, scars
Credence runs his thumb down the jagged line that arches up Graves' inner thigh. He commits each curve and spike into memory. Graves sits with one arm behind his back, and the other with his fingers holding a cigarette. Dark eyes watching him.
He turns his head to the series of healed over cuts just above his adonis belt. Shifting, the movement brings his face a little too close the pull of Graves' cock. Laying heavy and thick on his other thigh. Mind salivating on the memory of that same organ in his mouth last night, he pushes the thought away for later.
Gently tipping his head to press his lips to a circular scar above his hip bone, "This one?" Credence breathes out, moving his hands onto Graves' waist.
"He thought he wanted to see if I could burn." Graves answers, exhaling a plume of smoke into the air. Credence waits for the veil of smoke to dissipate. Graves is still watching him intently.
"How about this one?" He asks again, climbing up to stradle Graves. He runs his index finger over a wicked and thin gash on Graves' chest.
"He wanted to see me bleed."
Credence doesn't look up. Leaning down, he kisses one end of the scar, laving his tongue down the length of it before bookending it with another kiss. "This." He asks, mouth pressed to a healing mark over his left breast.
"Cruciatus."
"What's that?"
A gentle hand comes to urge him up. "I'll teach you all about it. For when we find that bastard and make him pay." Graves smiles, the curl of his lips brittle and joyless. He extinguishes his cigarette, moving both hands to pull Credence up into a press of their lips.
"You promise to teach me a lot of things." Credence says when they pull away. Graves takes Credence's palms in his, pressing his mouth to where Ma's cruelty is visible on his skin, his lifeline, his wrist.
"I did. And I will teach you all of them." Graves says in between calm and measured kisses. Credence is not so naive now that he cannot see a motivated gesture.
He allows him this. "All right." Credence replies, tilting his head to map out the scars on Graves' face.