Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11010516.
  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:
      Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Alternate_Universe_-_No_Powers,
      Underage_Sex, Underage_Drinking, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot, Sugar
      Daddy, Daddy_Kink, Size_Kink, hung!graves, Credence_Barebone_Gets_a_Hug,
      Original_Percival_Graves_is_a_Softie, Prompt_Fill, that_got_long,
      reupload, First_Time_Blow_Jobs, First_Time_Bottoming
  Collections:
      Anonymous_Fics
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-05-27 Words: 3024
****** whatever you do, don't fall in love ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Credence doesn't know it but he needs someone who will look out for
     him. Graves, could never resist pretty things.
 
Graves comes in for his usual, tuna on rye with mustard and mayo, and he finds
himself face to face with a young thing that barely looks old enough to drive,
with big dark eyes and long lashes, earnest tones, not yet sullied by the jaded
profession of customer service.
“Would you like that for here or to go sir?”
Oh. Graves hates himself for how much he enjoys the boy calling him sir, and
promptly decides that “Here.” will do for that day.
Lunch is his favorite time of the day because it means getting out of his
stuffy and boring as fuck office, and now, it’s infinitely better. The boy
actually comes out from behind the counter to bring him his tray, and smiles
sweetly when Graves asks how he likes working there. He’s only been there three
days, hence the unfamiliarity and green-ness of his manner. Graves is suddenly
hyper aware, and he glances back to find the creepy bleached blond owner of the
establishment watching the two of them interact.
Fucking weirdo.
 
“What time do you get off, my boy?”
the plastic gleam of his nametag proudly proclaims ‘Creed’ but he suspects
that’s probably a fake name or something, given how he looks too young to
actually be employed by even a chain joint.
“Seven’o’clock sir.”
“Would you like a ride home?” Or on my dick, he thinks. the boy nods rather
quickly, and Graves is delighted to be the exception to ‘stranger danger’ or
maybe the boy just is overly trusting. hell, he works there. He hands over a
business card and tells the boy he’ll be back that evening, seven on the dot.
If he doesn’t know any better the boy blushes.
Fuck, his hands itch to touch those pretty cheeks, and thumb over that plush
mouth, but he needs to be careful, he knows.
===============================================================================
 
“How did you come to work for that creep?”
Credence’s mouth has gone dry at the sight of the handsome businessman pulled
up in front of the Grindels Sandwich shop, all sleek and black and silver, just
like the man’s hair, and his hands are sweaty on the card and wrapped around
his satchel.
“Um...”
“Go on, hop in.”
Credence almost slides off the seat, pure fine slippery leather, and he’s got
gooseflesh on all his exposed skin from the stellar air conditioning. The
engine purrs as the man, Mister Graves pulls out into traffic, and he tries to
pretend like he’s not overwhelmed and also, hasn’t said a word about where he
lives.
“We’re going to dinner before you go anywhere. You know, you’re a little young
to be working in the rat race already. How do you not have anyone taking care
of you, hmm?”
There’s a hand, hot, heavy, and stroking over his thigh, burning through the
fabric and making the hairs on the nape of his neck stand up, as well as his
cock take interest, and Credence gulps.
“I uh, I have a, a, problem at home. So I’m trying to save up for a car of my
own. A place to live too, after I finish school.”
“Is that right? How responsible of you.”
The hand continues to caress his skin, and Credence starts to sweat, despite
the perfectly fine cold air still pounding against his face and legs.
“Why are you doing this for me, sir?”
“Graves, please. No need for such formality.”
Credence nearly squeaks when the man’s hand slides backwards, and palms over
his groin, he can feel himself leaking against his boxers.
“I, uh, I’m not a hooker.”
“I never said anything of the sort, my boy. I just think, one shouldn’t have to
waste your time flipping burgers when a pretty little thing like you has so
much potential. Ah, here we are.”
Credence’s jaw was slackening and his mind was growing fuzzy as his orgasm
crept over him, and he was about three seconds from spilling into his jeans
when the man let go of him to steer onto a flat slab of asphalt, and there was
a rapidly closing gate behind them.
“Where… are we?”
“This is my home. Please, feel free to make yourself comfortable.”
The car pulled smoothly into a garage, which was also massive and likely half
the size of the church Credence currently resided in, and he was staggering out
of his seat, and caught a few moments later by the man’s strong arms.
“Hey, careful there.”
“Did you… why are we here?”
Mister Graves has guided him through the garage side door into a tiled kitchen
and beyond that he can see a huge Television and spacious living room, it’s
like walking into a dream house.
“I want to talk to you, offer you a business proposal.”
“Sir, you don’t even know me…”
The man smiles, somewhat strained looking, as if he’s seen something unpleasant
on the bottom of his shoe, and Credence hopes it’s not him.
“I don’t like the idea of someone as sweet as you working for Grindelwald,
okay? I’m sorry. I’ve just got personal vested interests in keeping him… on the
right side of the law. You… could get him in very big trouble, my boy.”
“I… oh man. I lied about my age. So it’s my fault.”
The man steps closer to him, and the same hand that almost got him off now
strokes his cheek, and he trembles into it, eyes locked on the man’s suddenly
darkening gaze.
“You didn’t make him hire you, forge paperwork and documents. Unless you did,
in which case I’m very interested in your, persuading skills.”
The man’s eyes graze down the length of his body, and he shivers for an
entirely different reason. God forgive him, he wants to be touched.
“Sir… why am i here?”
He barely has time to blink before the man pulls him flush to his own, much
broader and stronger body, and kisses him senseless. Almost, at least.
He gasps into it, against the man’s mouth, firm and insistent, and then he’s
being turned, like they’re dancing, pushed into a hard surface, and lifted up,
up and sitting on the counter, how brazen, the man steps between his legs, and
he’s grinding his hips, oh, oh no.
Credence shudders into the heel of the man’s palm, blowing hot and thick into
his pants, and there’s the man’s mouth on his neck, nipping his skin and
soothing it with his wet and warm tongue.
“Oh baby boy, you’re a delight.”
His hands scrabble for a hold, for an anchor to ground himself against the
waves of pleasure buffeting his very being, and its impossible, he’s lolling
his head to the side, melting into whatever the man is doing, wringing little
breathy sighs and moans that he knows he’d never be caught dead making, much
less around another man!
“Please, sir, please, what do you want me to do?”
“I’d love it if you’d get on your knees for me… beg for my cock down your
throat.”
Credence swallows, gulping desperately for air, opens his eyes to find Mister
Graves’ own still smoldering at him.
“Okay.”
He climbs down from the counter, and his legs give out as he falls, clinging to
the man’s pant legs for stability and to keep from falling on his face, and he
feels rather than hears the man’s chuckle, vibrating down through his body, as
a hand pets his hair, and strokes it back from his sweaty forehead.
He locks eyes on the man’s crotch, his hard cock obscenely obvious in the bulge
of his fancy woven trousers, and his hands fumble on the zipper, but when he
gets it undone, the man’s length nearly smacks him in the face.
“Whoops, sorry sweetheart.”
Credence licks his lips, and tentatively leans in, putting his spit slick mouth
to the head, shiny with precome, and tries not to wince when the man’s hand
tightens involuntarily in his hair.
“Good, very good. You little tease. Don’t be afraid to use your tongue, no
teeth now.”
He closes his eyes, and sucks the man deeper into his mouth, and wonders if it
always tastes this bad, like some kind of accidentally over-salted bratwurst,
lacking the regular, good condiments. His brain momentarily short circuits and
he realizes that he is getting hard again himself, whether from the way Mister
Graves is petting him, or the groans escaping the man’s mouth, or some
combination of both. His knees ache along with his jaw, and his eyes are
watering, behind closed lids. He hopes it will be over soon.
“I’m going to come, do you want me on your face or down your throat?”
Credence swallowed just for preliminary, and then blinked up at the man,
indicating it didn’t really matter, so when the man tugged him back by his
hair, gently, he knew at once which was preferred.
Mister Graves put his free hand to his own cock, and jerked himself off
quickly, finishing with a low moan and a few long spurts of come that Credence
barely shut his eyes and kept his mouth open in time to catch.
He felt rather... disgusting, covered in the man’s spend like he was, but he
supposed, free ride home and free ride to the nice place he was in was payment
enough.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this. It’s unreal. Hold still baby, I won’t send
you home looking like this.”
Credence shivered as he was, on his knees, trying to ignore how his own cock
throbbed in his still damp and sticky pants, and then the man came back to
stand in front of him, carefully helping him to his feet, he nearly fell over
again.
“Oh, sweet thing, you’re hard again. Do you want Daddy to help you?”
Warmth, foreign and wicked, slid down Credence’s spine at the moniker, and he
found himself nodding.
“Good boy. Come here.”
When Mister Graves undoes his pants, he feels like he’s going to faint, and the
strong sure grip on his cock is enough to make him whimper, and cling to the
man’s arm with a death grip on his bicep. He comes with a shout, and its
unbidden, he’s used to weeks and weeks of frantically snuck orgasms, in the
shower usually, so the murmurs of praise from the man unexpected and tempts him
into wanting to agree to whatever he wants, as long as there is more to be had.
“I’ll do it, anything you ask.”
He manages to gasp out, and he misses the gleam of pride in the man’s eyes, but
feels a warm dry kiss to his temple.
“I can’t wait to teach you how to take my cock in that cute little ass of
yours. But that can wait til next time. Now, we need some dinner, though I
appreciate the appetizer.”
Then the man does something that makes him burn with a blush, he puts his
fingers, dripping with Credence’s come, to his lips, and sucks them clean,
finishing with a lewd grin.
“You’re welcome?”
Mister Graves’ wears a smirk for the rest of the night, and only drops it to
call goodbye to him, once he’s been returned to the block down from the church,
so ma won’t know where’s been.
He sleeps better that night than he ever has, with Mister Graves’ proposition
firmly seated in his mind.
 
===============================================================================
 
Mister Graves picks him up from outside his school, and he shakes off the wave
of guilt that always hits him when he catches eyes on him, sliding into the
passenger seat, into the cool air and under the warm firm hand of the man.
“Hello baby. How was your day?”
Before anything else happens, the man has already started to jerk him off, hand
down his pants, and thumb swiping his slit and Credence shivers at the kiss of
air conditioning against his wet cock, now spent and softening in the man’s
palm.
“G-good Daddy. Thank you.”
“I’d like to fuck you before dinner.”
When Mister Graves says things like that, it still takes him off guard, and he
has to remember to breathe, even as the man puts his hand out, telling Credence
silently to lick him clean.
“Okay Daddy.”
The car is parked, then Mister Graves comes around the side, and pulls him to
his feet, before hefting him into his arms, kissing him soundly, pushing him
against the heated metal of the door.
“Daddy?”
The man grinds his hips between his legs, spread and clinging to the man’s
waist, forcing a gasp from him, as his over sensitive cock is met with the
man’s own arousal.
“I’d love to just keep you naked all the time you’re here, but then I wouldn’t
get a single thing done. Come on. I need you.”
Mister Graves staggers with him in tow towards the closest bedroom, and
summarily tosses him onto the bed, stripping out of his clothing efficiently
and effortlessly. The next bit is the thing he enjoys every time they meet up,
being worshiped by the man’s hands, lips and tongue.
He’s peeled out of his own tee shirt and then his pants are tugged off, along
with his socks and shoes. Then he’s caressed, up one leg and kissed on his pale
thigh, then the next, until Mister Graves’ mouth is hot and wet over his cock,
teasingly licking over the head, before dipping down, sucking gently over his
sack, and making him squirm with the first swipe of a tongue against his hole.
He's never done that, and he's also never been gotten off first.
The second he feels a slow press, whether from a finger or the man’s tongue, he
squeaks.
“Good boy. You need to relax, otherwise I’m never going to fit.”
He glances over, and sees Mister Graves’ cock hard and red, curving against his
stomach, looking far thicker than even three or four fingers, and he gulps.
“Daddy, are you sure you can? You’re so big.” It sounds like a cliche but its
so dangerously true.
Mister Graves chuckles low, and almost like a growl, he’s pouncing, kissing and
nipping at Credence’s neck and junction of his collarbone and shoulder, while
he works a whole finger into his hole, with the aid of a snap and a click,
slippery cold something makes him jump, and then shudder on a sigh.
“This is how, sweetheart. You’re going to ride my cock, and sing for me.”
The next thing he knows, he’s atop the man, straddling his broad thighs, and
staring down at the thing he’s supposed to sit on.
He gulps again, and hisses out in pain as a third finger presses into him.
“Daddy, how long do I have to ride you?”
Mister Graves hums, more to himself than anything,
“Until you beg me to fuck you.”
He trembles all over, and even when the man slicks up his cock, and hoists him
into place, two strong hands on his slender hips, he’s worried he won’t be able
to take much.
His jaw drops at the first graze of the man’s cock head beneath his hole, and
then as its girth begins to split him apart. It’s slow, so slow, but Credence
is panting for breath and dying inside, shaky, despite his own cock becoming
hard again, nothing can truly help ease the burn.
“Well baby?”
Credence’s palms are flat, splayed on Mister Graves’ broad chest, and he shakes
his head, bangs falling into his eyes, blocking some of his view, but he thinks
the man is smiling.
“Please… Daddy, I can’t…”
“Okay. Daddy will take over for you sweetheart.”
A strong arm wraps around his back, pulling him down, flush to the man’s chest,
and then he’s flipped underneath him, legs forced wider, and eyes widening, as
Mister Graves fucks into him deeper, but still with a semblance of gentleness.
He starts moving faster when Credence’s second orgasm takes him by surprise, as
the head of the man’s cock hits something inside him that makes him see stars,
and his own cock spurts onto his chest, up to his neck, from the force of it,
while he barely has time to gasp.
Mister Graves grunts into the skin of his neck,
“So tight, so hot, perfect baby.”
“Daddy, it hurts!”
“I know, Daddy’s almost done.”
A few more pumps of his hips, and the man stills, warmth flooding Credence’s
hole, and spilling out around the man’s softening but still formidable length.
He’s a mess, he knows, and he can’t help shivering as Mister Graves pulls back,
but the man’s hand is firm on his chin, he won’t let him retreat, much less be
ashamed.
“You were so good. What do you want for dinner baby boy, anything, name it.”
He dimly feels a kiss on the cheek, and a warm damp cloth is wiping between his
legs, he’s wrapped in a blanket, and pulled into the man’s arms, as he walks
them out to the kitchen, the living room, and time blurs.
The sun has set when he comes to, and he can smell cheese and tomatoes.
Pizza?
He looks over and finds Mister Graves watching television, absentmindedly
petting his blanket covered legs.
“Hey.”
The man looks over and smiles so gently at him, Credence thinks, oh, this is
bad.
“Hey baby. You scared me. I didn’t mean to wear you out. I wanted to spend some
time with you on our date.”
“Is that what this is?” his voice is croaky from sleep, and his ass feels more
than a little sore.
Mister Graves chuckles,
“Yes baby. Mutually beneficial, but still a date. I left you half a pizza. You
want some wine?”
Credence gapes at him, and the man just laughs harder.
“Don’t look so shocked. We’re not going anywhere. You can drink with me, and
I’ll take you home later.”
He gulps, remembers, it’s all about the money, that’s it.
“Okay.”
The ruffle of his hair and the kiss on the cheek is far nicer than he deserves,
he knows it.
But Mister Graves is not like most Sugar Daddies, he knows this.
 
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