[ under graves' gaze something in him unfurls. just a little. he nods minutely, taking a split-second to nose against the older man's temple before he settles back into the task he's been presented with. breathe in, breathe out. he's almost ashamed to be so much more visibly upset than graves but he can't help it.

his eyes are wide and owlish and scared as he watches all of this transpire, and as soon as graves guides him to he pushes down to provide pressure - he knows it's going to hurt, having seen the grit of graves' teeth, but he also knows it needs to be done. ] Pegasus...es? Pegasi? Anyway, winged horses, not unicorns. [ right. such a difference. he's still watching graves like a hawk but he's staying present, staying in the moment. ] Those skeletal horses from last Halloween were so popular that he wants to try these too.

[ he's only going to move his hand when he absolutely has to at his older lover's insistence; the blood loss will have improved greatly by then, at least. ] No rainbows. Probably edible glitter, though.

[ edible glitter? excuse me? this isn't the time for any untoward ideas involving edible glitter anyway. ] I think he's going to make the wings out of spun sugar. [ it's such a mundane thing to talk about, something so easy and light, that it's still helping even if he's definitely continuing to be rattled nonetheless. ]