[ It's one of those days where everything comes together and demands Graves' attention at once. While he's excellent at delegating and leaving tasks in his subordinates' capable hands, he's responsible for the end product, and he oversees the hundreds of moving parts that make up MACUSA, making an entire slew of decisions where necessary. To be the President's right-hand man in addition to running the two largest departments within the institution takes savvy, diplomacy, a profound competence and an ironclad will to succeed -- Graves possesses all of these, but it means his personal life is sacrificed, hours given over to his life's work, his duty to the wizarding community.
It has, on the occasion, been a point of contention with Credence and Newt both; Newt, especially, who still harbors a distrust for Picquery, especially so for Credence's sake -- after all, the boy had been severely hurt by them before. Graves owes them, too; the both of them had found him, and were there as he recovered, fought ferociously to restore himself, whether it's with his own demons or MACUSA who believed he would be better off on an extended vacation.
And now, things are finally back on track. He'd taken both Credence and Newt as lovers, caring little for the unprecedented nature of their union, and things are settling into an equilibrium that he finds himself appreciating. Credence is blossoming, growing into himself under their tutelage, and Newt is opening up, too, and Graves considers all of that an acceptable development. Of course, they're still a work in progress (and considering their temperaments they always will be), but the penthouse Graves owns is at least more lived in, now.
Tonight, he comes home just after one in the morning; aware that one or both of his lovers would probably be asleep, he's quietly showering in the guest room, only entering the main bedroom after he's done. It's dark, and he doesn't bother flicking the light on when he finds his way to the bed, clad in impeccable silk pajamas and looking forward to finally spend some time with his loved ones.
The bed seems a little emptier, and he immediately senses why when he gets in under the blankets: Credence is the only one in it, a warm and comforting presence, and he finds himself smiling briefly, running his fingers through Credence's hair. ]
You're sleeping on your own. [ He murmurs quietly, seeking him out. Newt must be working in his case nearby -- the man usually forgets the time of day when he's busy, although he would never not come whenever Credence calls out for him. ] Were you lonely?
[Credence sometimes, still, struggles to sleep the full night through. If Percival or Newt are nearby, he sleeps longer, and when they are both there or he's exhausted, the nightmares don't come. When he'd first moved into Mister Graves' penthouse apartment, the older wizards had created a network of spells to cloak the house. Secured, he was able to relax, truly, for the first time in possibly his entire life. Nobody could come in unless they let them. That was enough to make him feel safe.
Tonight, though, is one like quite a few others. Both of them, his Newt and Percival, work an awful lot. Credence doesn't have to work, not ever or until he's ready, and that often leaves him alone. Normally, he doesn't mind it. There is so much he can do here, the freedoms given him are enormous and overwhelming and perfect, and if he needed someone, they'd be at his side in an instant.
But it gets later and later and neither of them come home.
He could call for Newt, but his creatures need him, too. Credence doesn't want to be selfish. Percival will come back, soon, and if he's patient enough then neither of them will ever know that he lay awake in the bed missing them so much. He falls asleep, it's only been a few minutes, and then the bed dips, scent and the shape of his body telling him who it is long before the sound of his voice does.]
Percival. [Credence rolls over and into his arms, spreading out and over the man, cheek pressed to his chest and legs tossed over his hips. He squeezes his thighs, blinks to clear his eyes.] Newt is still working.
I missed you, so much.
[He nuzzles closer, tipping his head up. Credence can almost make out the line of his jaw this way.]
[ Credence has been asleep, he notes, and it's impressive when his boy uncurls and wraps around him like the world's most affectionate limpet. They've made plenty of progress with Credence, he and Newt both -- to be honest, they've probably progressed together, what with Newt gradually opening up as well, but Credence, the centre of it all, shows the most change.
They protect him the best they can, their Obscurial, and he smiles when he senses Credence tipping his head up. It's the easiest thing in the world to do to lose himself in his boy's embrace, to untether himself from the rigors of the day and settle in for the night. Newt will come along soon, he thinks; of late, the man doesn't tend to stray too long from the both of them.
Credence is learning to make requests, to ask things of both of them without fear of punishment or reprisal, and it's something Graves carefully cultivates, correcting when it's out of line. He wraps his arms around him with a quiet sigh, pressing a soft, lazy kiss against his mouth. ]
I'm here now. [ He murmurs between slow, searching kisses, light fingers coming up to trace soothing patterns over his spine. ] Did I wake you?
[It's as if Percival knows exactly what he wants, even when he isn't quite aware of those needs himself.
He kisses him and Credence knows that this is what happiness tastes like, the press of his Graves' lips against his own, and Newt's warm body curled up against his back, hands running up and down his sides. Maybe he'll be finished working soon and Credence can ask them both to stay with him tonight.]
I tried to stay awake.
[Credence still found himself exhausted, quicker than he'd like, and it was usually abrupt. He didn't fight it. He was safe here and could sleep as long as he needed.]
I don't mind. I'm glad you're home. [He wiggles closer, scooting himself even further on top of the older man.] Aren't you happy to see me?
[He drops his voice a little lower, trying to sound pouty without going too far. Credence was still experimenting with expressing his desires, and figuring out who he really was without the constraints of his former life, and neither wizard ever judged him for it.]
[ Credence is up and about at an admirable speed, and Graves is more than happy to indulge, coaxing the young man above him with an approving hum, a hand curling over the back of his neck. He can practically hear the pout in his voice, threaded in sleep fogged words. It's endearing, how Credence is exploring with himself, pushing boundaries and accessing what has been long denied him. Graves and Newt -- well, they're more than happy to provide him with a safe space to do it. ]
Let me show you how happy I am to see you. [ His words are a low purr, almost a rumble. It's not nearly complete without Newt here, but he knows Credence will call for him when their errant magizoologist's absence becomes too much to bear.
His fingers come to deftly undo the trappings on the other's pajamas, his lips finding an expanse of skin, a gleam of pearl-white -- Credence doesn't get enough sun. Soft kisses are pressed against his collarbone, his free hand sliding inside his pajamas to smooth over his chest, thumbing over a nipple. Newt should come and sample this, their boy eager and ready and sweetly pining for attention, and he murmurs, tracking heated kisses down to his chest, pushing the fabric further apart the lower he goes.
It's been a long day, and Credence is ripe for the taking. ]
[Credence's eyes widen, pleasure tumbling through him, settling low in his stomach and making him ache, already.]
If you want to.
[He says softly, a question and a request all at once. Credence doesn't want him to stop, he wants him to show him, but at times, he doesn't feel he deserves it very much. He shifts, hips rocking slowly as he's kissed and touched, eyes falling shut as he soaks it all in. It all feels so good, so much, so - Newt.
His eyes open, and he whispers his name. Knows he'll hear him, that he'll know he wants and needs him there, too. He scoots off of Percival, unbuttoning the rest of the shirt portion and standing, pushes the fabric off his hips. When he's naked, he climbs back onto the bed, slipping under the covers.]
[ Credence whispers Newt's name like he's offering a prayer, a quiet petition for the other man's presence, and Graves remembers how Credence loves them both, how he gluts himself on both their attentions because he's gone without for so long. Graves watches him slide under the covers, naked and perfectly exquisite, his hands coming to smooth over his side, his chest, mapping him anew under his touch.
Credence is his and Newt's, and his hand slips down to hook Credence's leg over him, spreading their lovely young man for when Newt chooses to join them. ]
Call him again. [ He suggests, words low and velvety, that same hand coming to close delicately around his cock, reacquianting himself with the shape and weight of him, the way Credence fits so snugly in his palm. ] Perhaps I should loosen you up for him.
[ This entire experience, from the start of it up until the very moments they find themselves stealing away on days like this, has been quite a novel one. It had ups, downs, and in-betweens, punctuated by their fumbling to find what they amounted to in this world they were building, and what they were as they grew together. It's true that Percival's work sometimes still causes points of contention between them, but so does Newt's for the other man.
His distrust of Piquery is hardly something that will be easily quelled. It may never fully go away. His trust of Graves overcomes it, and he knows that together they can come up against whatever may yet come their way.
Newt tries not to work too long, but it's easy for him to get caught up in caring for the creatures. To lose hours upon hours inside of his case, and only come back to the world outside of it at hearing his name called out. In this case it is a whisper that brings his attention from a new enclosure he's working on, both magically and on paper. His wand is caught between his teeth, and a sketchbook is balanced on his knee, fingertips covered in lead smudges. There's even a smudge or two on his chin from thought or on his forehead where he'd brushed his curls out of his eyes.
The whisper keeps his attention from being brought back to the pad of paper in his lap, and he shifts, only then realizing how late it has become, He finds a place for it on his work table. littered among the other bits and bobs he has there. He takes his wand out of his mouth, putting it away at his belt for the time being, and begins to tidy up so that he can leave for the night. The creatures will be all right until the morning, when he usually checks on them, but right now he's needed elsewhere by Credence. ]
[Credence lets his eyes fall shut, battling back any remaining nerves as Percival's hand slips down his chest and belly. He shifts his leg when guided, rolling onto his side so they're pressed together, his face is flushed and tension building even though they've just started. The older man's words make him shiver, hips bucking into the warmth now circling his cock.]
[While Credence had no preferences when it came to who did what to him when they were all three together, the thing that he really enjoyed was being worked open. A couple of fingers pressed up inside him, filling him up. He remembers the first time, the sounds he'd made - how embarrassed he'd been, how relieved he was when both his partners had found pleasure in breaking him apart so quickly. Learning that sex wasn't linear, that he could like as many things as he wanted - that the only limits were what they set for themselves, was everything he'd ever needed.
He stretches a hand out, towards the case, as his head falls back to expose his throat to Graves' mouth. It's a question, and a plea. He wants everything Percival is going to give him and he wants Newt there, too.]
[ Credence asks and Graves is more than happy to give. He can hear the rustling just beyond the case cover, knowing that Newt's obviously heard their young lover's call, a gentle summon and reminder that work is over, and their beloved seeks their shared attention. Graves has come to look forward to moments like these, when he can set aside work for a blessed hour or two and to accord Credence what he sweetly searches for.
They continue to let Credence discover what he loves, what he wants, broadening his horizons and showing him more, offering different pleasures, experiences, and he presses hungry kisses to Credence's throat, leaving a lovebite blossoming on pale skin. He's letting go of Credence's cock, reaching for the small tin of lubricant he leaves on the nightstand, smearing a generous amount on his fingers before he slips them between his cheeks, pressing lightly against his entrance. He pushes the first in, gentle but firm, knowing that this will probably be the first thing their lover will see when he comes up out of his case: Graves working Credence open for Newt, getting him ready to be thoroughly, wonderfully fucked.
There are scant nights when Credence doesn't come away with both Newt's and Graves' come inside him, spilled on his thighs, and Graves intends to hold up the pattern. ] He's coming to you. [ He murmurs against his skin. ] To us.
[As much as Credence wants them both here, his level of experience won't allow him to focus on two different things for very long. When they're all in bed together, he relies on both men to help remind him of what he's supposed to be doing, but when it's just him and either Percival or Newt, his body takes over and his mind floats away.
His hand drops to the Graves' side, head tipping back so the older man can kiss up and down his throat. The kisses that hurt a little, the ones that leave a mark, those are Credence's favorite - either wizard could heal them, but he never lets him. He likes to see them, feel them warm and sensitive under his fingertips for a few days after. Sometimes, he'll crawl into Percival's lap while he's reading or working, press up close and get him to kiss and bite at the same spot. It hurts. It feels good and Credence might not always understand that, but he always wants more of it.]
Ah-h.
[Credence pushes a leg up, splays it out to relieve some of the pressure. Graves always knows exactly how much he can take, how fast to go, when to push him and when to ease off. He shoves his fingers into Graves' hair, curls them, and pulls him down to press their lips together, whining into his mouth.]
[ It's amazing, he's found, the way they've both garnered his attention in ways that few others have ever been able to do. That they've earned the right to call for him whenever they might please or have need of him. He had never considered such a thing before, it had never come up.
He can imagine, from their previous couplings between the three of them, what is happening in the world outside of his case. In the bedroom in particular. What Graves is doing and how Credence is reacting and it sends a shudder of pleasure through him to think of it.
Indeed, as he makes his way out of the case, he has to pull in a steadying breath at the sight before him. The two of them in bed together, Credence being worked open steadily, the sounds that leave the younger man, and the way he grips at Percival's hair before dragging him in practically mewl into his mouth. He watches a moment, taking in the sight of them at first. ]
[ There he is, his other lover who's come out to play with them. Graves loves them both in equal measure, enjoying them as they are -- and even though he absolutely delights in Credence's sweet mewls and demanding tugs, Newt's soft words still thrill and delight, and Graves' eyes are dark and wickedly predatory before he looks up and over Credence's shoulder, careful to keep his cheeks spread so Newt can see very, very clearly just what is waiting for him.
He's just gotten their boy relaxed and ready, and Graves lays sultry kisses on Credence's shoulder, fingerfucking him with a thoroughly lazy grace, intent on having Credence feel every inch of his two slick fingers, knowing Newt would still stretch him a little more anyway. ]
And so are you. [ He murmurs, meeting his eyes before he says quietly to Credence. ] Are you ready for Newt, Credence? I'm getting you all nice and ready for him.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
homecoming.
It has, on the occasion, been a point of contention with Credence and Newt both; Newt, especially, who still harbors a distrust for Picquery, especially so for Credence's sake -- after all, the boy had been severely hurt by them before. Graves owes them, too; the both of them had found him, and were there as he recovered, fought ferociously to restore himself, whether it's with his own demons or MACUSA who believed he would be better off on an extended vacation.
And now, things are finally back on track. He'd taken both Credence and Newt as lovers, caring little for the unprecedented nature of their union, and things are settling into an equilibrium that he finds himself appreciating. Credence is blossoming, growing into himself under their tutelage, and Newt is opening up, too, and Graves considers all of that an acceptable development. Of course, they're still a work in progress (and considering their temperaments they always will be), but the penthouse Graves owns is at least more lived in, now.
Tonight, he comes home just after one in the morning; aware that one or both of his lovers would probably be asleep, he's quietly showering in the guest room, only entering the main bedroom after he's done. It's dark, and he doesn't bother flicking the light on when he finds his way to the bed, clad in impeccable silk pajamas and looking forward to finally spend some time with his loved ones.
The bed seems a little emptier, and he immediately senses why when he gets in under the blankets: Credence is the only one in it, a warm and comforting presence, and he finds himself smiling briefly, running his fingers through Credence's hair. ]
You're sleeping on your own. [ He murmurs quietly, seeking him out. Newt must be working in his case nearby -- the man usually forgets the time of day when he's busy, although he would never not come whenever Credence calls out for him. ] Were you lonely?
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Tonight, though, is one like quite a few others. Both of them, his Newt and Percival, work an awful lot. Credence doesn't have to work, not ever or until he's ready, and that often leaves him alone. Normally, he doesn't mind it. There is so much he can do here, the freedoms given him are enormous and overwhelming and perfect, and if he needed someone, they'd be at his side in an instant.
But it gets later and later and neither of them come home.
He could call for Newt, but his creatures need him, too. Credence doesn't want to be selfish. Percival will come back, soon, and if he's patient enough then neither of them will ever know that he lay awake in the bed missing them so much. He falls asleep, it's only been a few minutes, and then the bed dips, scent and the shape of his body telling him who it is long before the sound of his voice does.]
Percival. [Credence rolls over and into his arms, spreading out and over the man, cheek pressed to his chest and legs tossed over his hips. He squeezes his thighs, blinks to clear his eyes.] Newt is still working.
I missed you, so much.
[He nuzzles closer, tipping his head up. Credence can almost make out the line of his jaw this way.]
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They protect him the best they can, their Obscurial, and he smiles when he senses Credence tipping his head up. It's the easiest thing in the world to do to lose himself in his boy's embrace, to untether himself from the rigors of the day and settle in for the night. Newt will come along soon, he thinks; of late, the man doesn't tend to stray too long from the both of them.
Credence is learning to make requests, to ask things of both of them without fear of punishment or reprisal, and it's something Graves carefully cultivates, correcting when it's out of line. He wraps his arms around him with a quiet sigh, pressing a soft, lazy kiss against his mouth. ]
I'm here now. [ He murmurs between slow, searching kisses, light fingers coming up to trace soothing patterns over his spine. ] Did I wake you?
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He kisses him and Credence knows that this is what happiness tastes like, the press of his Graves' lips against his own, and Newt's warm body curled up against his back, hands running up and down his sides. Maybe he'll be finished working soon and Credence can ask them both to stay with him tonight.]
I tried to stay awake.
[Credence still found himself exhausted, quicker than he'd like, and it was usually abrupt. He didn't fight it. He was safe here and could sleep as long as he needed.]
I don't mind. I'm glad you're home. [He wiggles closer, scooting himself even further on top of the older man.] Aren't you happy to see me?
[He drops his voice a little lower, trying to sound pouty without going too far. Credence was still experimenting with expressing his desires, and figuring out who he really was without the constraints of his former life, and neither wizard ever judged him for it.]
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Let me show you how happy I am to see you. [ His words are a low purr, almost a rumble. It's not nearly complete without Newt here, but he knows Credence will call for him when their errant magizoologist's absence becomes too much to bear.
His fingers come to deftly undo the trappings on the other's pajamas, his lips finding an expanse of skin, a gleam of pearl-white -- Credence doesn't get enough sun. Soft kisses are pressed against his collarbone, his free hand sliding inside his pajamas to smooth over his chest, thumbing over a nipple. Newt should come and sample this, their boy eager and ready and sweetly pining for attention, and he murmurs, tracking heated kisses down to his chest, pushing the fabric further apart the lower he goes.
It's been a long day, and Credence is ripe for the taking. ]
Undress for me.
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If you want to.
[He says softly, a question and a request all at once. Credence doesn't want him to stop, he wants him to show him, but at times, he doesn't feel he deserves it very much. He shifts, hips rocking slowly as he's kissed and touched, eyes falling shut as he soaks it all in. It all feels so good, so much, so - Newt.
His eyes open, and he whispers his name. Knows he'll hear him, that he'll know he wants and needs him there, too. He scoots off of Percival, unbuttoning the rest of the shirt portion and standing, pushes the fabric off his hips. When he's naked, he climbs back onto the bed, slipping under the covers.]
Will you show me now?
[His eyes flit to the case.]
Or will you wait for him?
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Credence is his and Newt's, and his hand slips down to hook Credence's leg over him, spreading their lovely young man for when Newt chooses to join them. ]
Call him again. [ He suggests, words low and velvety, that same hand coming to close delicately around his cock, reacquianting himself with the shape and weight of him, the way Credence fits so snugly in his palm. ] Perhaps I should loosen you up for him.
no subject
His distrust of Piquery is hardly something that will be easily quelled. It may never fully go away. His trust of Graves overcomes it, and he knows that together they can come up against whatever may yet come their way.
Newt tries not to work too long, but it's easy for him to get caught up in caring for the creatures. To lose hours upon hours inside of his case, and only come back to the world outside of it at hearing his name called out. In this case it is a whisper that brings his attention from a new enclosure he's working on, both magically and on paper. His wand is caught between his teeth, and a sketchbook is balanced on his knee, fingertips covered in lead smudges. There's even a smudge or two on his chin from thought or on his forehead where he'd brushed his curls out of his eyes.
The whisper keeps his attention from being brought back to the pad of paper in his lap, and he shifts, only then realizing how late it has become, He finds a place for it on his work table. littered among the other bits and bobs he has there. He takes his wand out of his mouth, putting it away at his belt for the time being, and begins to tidy up so that he can leave for the night. The creatures will be all right until the morning, when he usually checks on them, but right now he's needed elsewhere by Credence. ]
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Newt. [His eyes flick open, fingertips digging into Percival's shoulders.] Yes.
[While Credence had no preferences when it came to who did what to him when they were all three together, the thing that he really enjoyed was being worked open. A couple of fingers pressed up inside him, filling him up. He remembers the first time, the sounds he'd made - how embarrassed he'd been, how relieved he was when both his partners had found pleasure in breaking him apart so quickly. Learning that sex wasn't linear, that he could like as many things as he wanted - that the only limits were what they set for themselves, was everything he'd ever needed.
He stretches a hand out, towards the case, as his head falls back to expose his throat to Graves' mouth. It's a question, and a plea. He wants everything Percival is going to give him and he wants Newt there, too.]
Please.
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They continue to let Credence discover what he loves, what he wants, broadening his horizons and showing him more, offering different pleasures, experiences, and he presses hungry kisses to Credence's throat, leaving a lovebite blossoming on pale skin. He's letting go of Credence's cock, reaching for the small tin of lubricant he leaves on the nightstand, smearing a generous amount on his fingers before he slips them between his cheeks, pressing lightly against his entrance. He pushes the first in, gentle but firm, knowing that this will probably be the first thing their lover will see when he comes up out of his case: Graves working Credence open for Newt, getting him ready to be thoroughly, wonderfully fucked.
There are scant nights when Credence doesn't come away with both Newt's and Graves' come inside him, spilled on his thighs, and Graves intends to hold up the pattern. ] He's coming to you. [ He murmurs against his skin. ] To us.
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His hand drops to the Graves' side, head tipping back so the older man can kiss up and down his throat. The kisses that hurt a little, the ones that leave a mark, those are Credence's favorite - either wizard could heal them, but he never lets him. He likes to see them, feel them warm and sensitive under his fingertips for a few days after. Sometimes, he'll crawl into Percival's lap while he's reading or working, press up close and get him to kiss and bite at the same spot. It hurts. It feels good and Credence might not always understand that, but he always wants more of it.]
Ah-h.
[Credence pushes a leg up, splays it out to relieve some of the pressure. Graves always knows exactly how much he can take, how fast to go, when to push him and when to ease off. He shoves his fingers into Graves' hair, curls them, and pulls him down to press their lips together, whining into his mouth.]
no subject
He can imagine, from their previous couplings between the three of them, what is happening in the world outside of his case. In the bedroom in particular. What Graves is doing and how Credence is reacting and it sends a shudder of pleasure through him to think of it.
Indeed, as he makes his way out of the case, he has to pull in a steadying breath at the sight before him. The two of them in bed together, Credence being worked open steadily, the sounds that leave the younger man, and the way he grips at Percival's hair before dragging him in practically mewl into his mouth. He watches a moment, taking in the sight of them at first. ]
The two of you are ---beautiful.
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He's just gotten their boy relaxed and ready, and Graves lays sultry kisses on Credence's shoulder, fingerfucking him with a thoroughly lazy grace, intent on having Credence feel every inch of his two slick fingers, knowing Newt would still stretch him a little more anyway. ]
And so are you. [ He murmurs, meeting his eyes before he says quietly to Credence. ] Are you ready for Newt, Credence? I'm getting you all nice and ready for him.