[ it isn't as though they hadn't discussed credence's feelings for graves that first time he was brought back home - he's just too shy and self-conscious to harp on it. he knows he's young, and graves should be with someone closer to his age, stronger, not like him. but he wants him at least, as his lover, and credence contents himself with that even if they don't say things like i love you.

(he feels protected here, safe, wanted, appreciated, but he's so desperate to be told he's loved.)

that aside he does lean into the touch to his cheek, expression softening just a little. he'd meant what he said, in any case. finally, he lifts his own hand to brush over graves' cheek, his jaw, down to his neck. it's tender, feeling him out, and yes, definitely making sure he's really here. credence leans in to kiss him slowly, lingering that way before pulling back to look at him. ] I don't know. I don't think it's the same if I tell you what to do. [ he's not keeping a distance anymore at least, leaning into him with a sigh. it's always nice this way, credence's wiry height against graves' broad chest or back. he presses a kiss below the older man's ear, but it's little more than a peck. ]

Not making me worry like this from not having a way to contact you, ever again, is a start.