[ graves doesn't entertain darker thoughts, doesn't allow himself to ruminate on 'what ifs', they're a waste of time when credence is here, present, and beautiful, burrowing against him so sweetly that he can't help the flicker of desire, the familiar coil of potent need.
he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
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he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
Or can he? ]
Are you all right with this?