Archive of Our Own ^beta

Credence squinted against the oncoming headlights then rubbed at his face with a sharp exhale, nose wrinkled with irritation.

Newt and Tina were in the back seat, one of them was snoring, but he couldn’t say who. He stole a glance to his right, the profile of Percival—he quickly snagged his water bottle from the center console when the man looked his way, drinking the icy water perhaps a little too quickly.

The road was long and empty save for the occasional semi-truck, rolling along at a reduced speed. Streetlights were nonexistent this far from a city. Small towns were nearly as rare, sometimes stretching fifty miles before another gas station could be found.

Credence’s phone played some generic playlist through the speakers, something no one could complain too much about. The occasional static and click-y whine sounding through the car due to a kink in the auxiliary cord. No one had mentioned it, and credence tried not to let it bother him too deeply.

The time on the red display screen reached 3. Credence stifled a yawn behind his hand, and he continued on. Dark masses of hills barely visible with the moonlight. If he stopped, he was sure the view of the stars would be beautiful; far as they were from civilization.

Another stifled yawn.

There was sudden weight and heat on his wrist, the slight rough rub of a callous against the back of his hand. Credence took a long breath and glanced towards Percival.
“You need to rest.” The man said softly.

Credence swallowed, “Oh, no, it’s okay, really.” He said quietly, trying to focus better on the road and less on Percival’s hand over his on the steering wheel. “I’ve made this drive through the night a lot.” He reassured.

“Credence.” Firmer. Credence glanced at him again. “Let’s stop for the night. You should sleep.”

Credence opened his mouth to argue, flushed, a mix of embarrassment and flattered that his exhaustion was even noticed.

Percival spoke before Credence could.

“Right up here, take this next exit. I saw a sign that said there’s a motel.”

Credence tried and failed to force down another yawn. He ducked his head, a little embarrassed, and softly agreed, insides fluttering at the pleased smile it won him.

---

The motel was rather repulsive, but there were no complaints as they checked in; he, Newt, and Tina to a room, Percival to another.

The exhaustion had caught up to him now that he was no longer behind the wheel. It was hard to keep his eyes open, but curled on the bleached sheets, sleep wouldn’t come.

The phantom memory of Percival’s hand on his, the brush of his thumb—the kindness to notice that Credence was starting to feel worn after driving all day. That he cared enough to have him stop—that the end destination didn’t matter as much as Credence getting a few hours of rest. It was embarrassing, but it had Credence getting hard in his sleep pants, itching to press his hand beneath the fabric; the one Percival has touched, if he blurred things enough it was almost like Percival could be touching him there instead.

He exhaled sharply and turned onto his stomach, hiding his face against the pillow, rolling his hips against the mattress, just so—

He didn’t know Percival that well, hardly at all. Conversations here and there; hardly enough for the crush he’d developed some months ago. But well enough to be able to hear the man say kind things to him while getting him off—well enough to imagine what sort of sounds and faces he might make.

Credence had already damned himself for it, had been damned years before ending up here, grinding against a mattress and trying to keep quiet enough to not wake his roommates.
Maybe the car would be better.

Better than that would be Percival’s bed. a traitorous voice, his own, sang. And the thought made his whole body shudder.

He wasn’t thinking when he snagged his phone off the nightstand and texted the man in question; hands trembling. “Are you still up?”

The reply was almost instantaneous. “I am.” And then “Why? What’s up?”

But Credence was getting out of bed before he could let himself think better of it. Insecure and unsure to his core—but he’d talked about it drunkenly with Newt.

‘Credence, the worst that can happen is he says no.’

But that possible No felt monumentally terrifying. He looked up to the man so much. He didn’t think he’d be seen differently, if he lacked interest, not really, but the possibility... it made him feel sick.

“The worst that can happen is he says no.” Credence breathed as he slipped on his shoes. “The worst that can happen is he says no—” he repeated as he slipped out of the room. And again, as he hurried to the room next door to his own.

He knocked before he could talk himself out of it, feeling dizzy and frightened.

The door opened and he felt like a deer in the headlights, looking at Percival Graves in his night things, reading glasses on his nose, hair free of product. Credence could swoon, was imagining his fingers in the greying hair and he hadn’t even spoken yet.

“Credence,” Percival greeted, voice low, “do you...want to come in? Is everything alright?” He’d already stepped aside, opened the door wider for Credence.

So, Credence accepted, forcing himself into motion.

The little tv was on, and Credence remembered for an amused moment, that the motel’s sign had promised colored tv. It had felt from an entirely different decade to advertise such a thing.
The bathroom light was on, and over the soft chatter of the tv, credence could hear the whine of the fluorescent light. The grinding whirr of the a/c. Over it all, he could hear his own breathing. He felt ragged.

“Credence?” Percival urged, thick eyebrows furrowed with concern. The man rested his hand on Credence’s shoulder.

Credence exhaled raggedly and met Percival’s eyes for a heart stopping moment.

“I—” he started, voice breaking off. He swallowed hard, wet his lips, and tried again, forcing himself to stand still rather than to melt into Percival as he longed to. “I was wondering if you might—” might what, Credence? Might be interested in fucking you into the mattress and never speaking of it again? What had he expected this plea to come off as other than that—oh, God.

Percival had taken his hand, squeezed it to bring Credence back to earth. “If I might...?” He pressed softly, a reassuring smile. Credence could melt. “It’s okay.” Percival encouraged.

His hand was so warm, Credence’s were always so cold. He focused on the heat for a moment, took a long slow breath, met Percival’s eyes. He was a kind man. Credence knew that to be a fact. He wouldn’t mock credence for this. The worst that could happen was a ‘no’.

“Will you kiss me?” Credence breathed, shaking, holding tighter to Percival’s hand. “Please-” He almost felt sick with the words out now, his desire for the man something that could be known for certain rather than just a shapeless maybe. Only Newt had known—but now he’s voiced it to Percival himself.

Percival smiled, eyes crinkling in the corners, expression so soft. “Yes.” And Credence didn’t know if he’d heard properly; but then Percival’s other hand was on his cheek. Credence could have sworn that the world went silent. Soft lips pressed against his own, slightly chapped and bitten. The silence was broken with a needy whine that Credence realized, with a shock of embarrassment, had come from him. The sounds of the motel returned, and he desperately kissed Percival again, shaking as he clung to the front of Percival’s shirt. He didn’t know what he was doing, moving closer, desperate to be closer.

His body jolted as he pressed up against Percival, a gasp-turned-moan pulled from him, unintentionally pressing his hips against him.

A soft noise of surprise and a huff of amusement, though Credence knew it to be kind; “is that for me?” Percival breathed against Credence’s mouth.

Skin burning, Credence nodded quickly, embarrassed, but drunk on kisses that were better than he could have dreamed them to be. “Couldn’t stop thinking about you-” he admitted, “your hands—” he pressed for another kiss, letting his hips drag, knowing it wasn’t unwelcome, with the hand that had been in his holding to his hip, now, a gentle encouraging pressure, guiding, almost.
“My hands?” Percival asked softly, placing soft kisses to Credence’s jaw.

Credence nodded emphatically and hid his face against Percival’s shoulder, breathing ragged, letting his hips grind forward against Percival.

“What about my hands, Credence?”

Credence shuddered, “Holding mine, touching me-” he breathed, burning with embarrassment and arousal.

“Where would you want me to touch you, Credence?” Percival asked.

“Anywhere, everywhere—” Credence choked, he trembled helplessly and turned his face to catch Percival’s mouth in a kiss.

Percival took Credence’s hand and pressed a kiss to the tip of his finger, “Here?” he asked, thumb rubbing lightly over the pulse point on Credence’s wrist.

Credence felt dizzy, raptly watching Percival, he nodded and breathily replied, “Yes—”

Percival kissed Credence’s wrist, then, and trailed his fingers up Credence’s arm to his elbow. “Here?”

A whine tore its way from Credence, “Yes—anywhere, Perce—” he panted. “Anywhere you want to touch me, I want it—”

“God, you’re incredible, aren’t you?” Percival rasped, turning Credence’s face to his and kissing him again. Credence moaned loudly, unable to keep himself from doing so. He was weak in the knees. He didn’t know how he’d stayed standing this long, really. Credence kissed Percival, desperation obvious in every sound, every breath. He pressed closer, bodily pushing Percival back towards the motel bed.

“Please…” he breathed, expression hazy, wound tight. “Perce, please—”

“So polite.” Percival praised, sinking down onto the bed, drawing Credence with him.

Credence straddled his lap and kissed him with a needy keen, hands shaking as he pressed his fingers into Percival’s hair and kissed him again.

Credence felt Percival’s hand tease beneath his t-shirt, warm skin against his own, and then the hand was firmer, against his stomach, his side, his ribs, a thumb over his nipple. Credence trembled, distantly aware that he was being loud. Percival licked into his mouth, slack jawed, and Credence felt like he could have come in his pants from that alone.

His hand moved back to Credence’s hip and drew him down, guiding Credence to roll his hips, and Percival met him part way, grinding up, hard as Credence was.

“-s that for me?” Credence managed to pant out. He smiled cheekily at Percival and ground down again. His eyes fluttered and he exhaled a breathy moan from the drag and the pressure.

Percival laughed against Credence’s mouth, “Who else would it be for, baby?” he teased his teeth against Credence’s bottom lip.

Credence’s body tensed up at that, a jolt rolling through him, “Oh, God—” Credence grit out, jerkily pressing down again, “Percy—Percy—” he tugged helplessly at Percival’s hair, chasing for more kisses.

Percival groaned and sucked at Credence’s lip. He teased his teeth a spot rougher and Credence was unable to attempt at quiet, moaning loudly and thrusting with more desperation against Percival’s stomach and lap. With a groan and the loud creaking of the bedframe, Percival turned them over, holding himself up over Credence with one arm. The other went between them and beneath Credence’s sweatpants. He bit down on Credence’s lip again, not quite hard enough to break skin. Credence arched against him and cried out, desperately scrabbling against Percival for some sort of purchase, tearing at his shirt. He came with a breathy cry, overwhelmed and happy tears threatening to spill, clothes sticking to his sweat-sticky skin. His thighs clamped tight against Percival’s hips, grip on Percival’s shoulders threatening to bruise.

Percival groaned, stroking Credence through it and peppering kisses against his face and neck until he settled, vice-like grip loosening. “Are you okay?” Percival asked softly, moving his hand away and settling on the bed to Credence’s side, groin pressed light against Credence’s hip.

Credence groaned softly, expression hazy and blissed out. He blinked his eyes open and smiled at Percival, shy and giddy, “Very. More than okay.” He said, a pleased giggle loosing before he could stop it. He risked a look at Percival’s face and smiled wider at the fond look he found. He rolled onto his side and kissed Percival again, reaching down to the waist of Percival’s pants. “You didn’t…can I?” he asked against Percival’s mouth, slipping his fingers lower.

Percival’s eyes fluttered and he kissed Credence soft, “Yes, you may—” he breathed, rocking his hips lightly against Credence’s hand once the permission was given. Credence’s strokes were unpracticed and a bit awkward from this angle, but the fact that it was Credence touching him more than made up for it. He reached down, wrapped his hand over Credence’s and directed the strokes, thrusting into their shared grip, quickly nearing the peak.

He found Credence’s mouth again, panting and desperate. The kiss was more of a wet press of his mouth and shared breathing than a kiss at all, but Credence didn’t seem to mind it, breathing sharper, still smiling. Credence nipped lightly at Percival’s lip, trying to tease the way he had been. It made Percival groan and he tightened his grip on Credence’s hand marginally, thrusting quicker. He came with his forehead pressed against Credence’s, fighting to keep his eyes open and meet Credence’s own dark eyes in the dim motel room.