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[ credence can feel it in the kisses, leaning into them and exhaling shakily against his mouth in between. he'll clean up later: now that he's stopped focusing on wound care all he can think of is making sure that graves is still here, still with him, whole and solid and not about to slip through his fingers like grains of sand.

i love you, he doesn't repeat, but he thinks it. instead: ] Good. I need you too much.

[ he presses a gentle kiss to the pad of graves' thumb thoughtlessly, then looks at him, dark eyes searching his face before he nods slightly. ] He did. He said he likes my ideas and he could use the help. How did you know?