[ it almost makes credence feel proud to know that graves is so pleased with him and he wonders if that's how he's meant to feel - wanted, whole, adored. sin is supposed to be tempting but something that makes him this happy (not even just pleasured - genuinely happy to be so intimately entwined with someone he's utterly smitten with) can't possibly be as bad as his mother has always painted.
he's still somewhat unsure how to kiss properly but his attempts are earnest and he moans softly against his mouth despite himself.
when credence ends up coiled against graves, nuzzling under his ear with the older man's hand on his ass--the question takes him a moment to process but then he nods blearily, gesturing toward his long-ago discarded pants. ] I always carry some with me, [ murmured and barely audible, ] in case one of your wounds needs tending when I see you. [ and his own hands of course, when his mother is in a mood - but he doesn't say that part because it doesn't matter. what matters is there's a small container of the healing ointment there in one of his pockets.
(he feels more shy and almost apprehensive suddenly because he's sure he knows exactly what it's for right now.) ]
no subject
he's still somewhat unsure how to kiss properly but his attempts are earnest and he moans softly against his mouth despite himself.
when credence ends up coiled against graves, nuzzling under his ear with the older man's hand on his ass--the question takes him a moment to process but then he nods blearily, gesturing toward his long-ago discarded pants. ] I always carry some with me, [ murmured and barely audible, ] in case one of your wounds needs tending when I see you. [ and his own hands of course, when his mother is in a mood - but he doesn't say that part because it doesn't matter. what matters is there's a small container of the healing ointment there in one of his pockets.
(he feels more shy and almost apprehensive suddenly because he's sure he knows exactly what it's for right now.) ]