[ credence may look utterly impassive during this but nothing could be further from the truth. one of the first things a mafioso is taught is to have the best poker face in the room and he's wearing it, standing slowly as the teacher gets kicked out of the room - he thinks he might fail the course now even though he had an a to begin with, but there are more important matters at hand. percival is angry, perhaps rightly so, but credence is angry as well. ]
Don't tell me what to do, Graves. [ graves. it's snapped out in annoyance but he's getting dressed anyway, tucking his shirt in and doing up his pants and making sure his hardness isn't apparent to an outside party.
he doesn't flinch in the face of the clear anger, stepping closer because he knows graves won't hurt him. can't hurt him even more than he apparently can't love him. it's that thought that makes credence finally frown and dip his head, brow furrowed and more than a little pained before he smooths it out again to look at him accusingly. ] You don't get to be angry with me. That's not how it works. [ it's sharp and openly bitter and he crosses his arms over his chest, still staring at him. there's hurt lurking in his eyes. so much for that poker face. ] Over and over again I try to give everything I am, everything I have to you, and every time you reject me. Every time.
[ he moves closer, gripping at the front of his clothing tightly. ] You know how much I want you. Do you realize how much of everything else? How I love you, how I want to give you everything I'd never given anyone else--still haven't given anyone else. I want it to be you.
Do you understand what I'm saying? Everything I've kept pristine, I want overtaken with you.
[ so, despite the childish dalliances, he's never actually slept with anyone. and he wants it to be graves that he finally does sleep with.
suddenly he's moving, totally ignoring the feeling of anger radiating off graves - the man he wants, the man he needs, the man he loves - and he wraps his arms around his neck, forehead dropping to his chest. ] You can't keep getting my hopes up only to dash them. It hurts me, Percival. Worse still to ignore me afterward and leave me to wonder if this is the last rejection, if you've finally gotten sick of me.
[ it's... possibly the most raw and open he's ever been, and he can't bear to look at graves' response to it. ]
no subject
Don't tell me what to do, Graves. [ graves. it's snapped out in annoyance but he's getting dressed anyway, tucking his shirt in and doing up his pants and making sure his hardness isn't apparent to an outside party.
he doesn't flinch in the face of the clear anger, stepping closer because he knows graves won't hurt him. can't hurt him even more than he apparently can't love him. it's that thought that makes credence finally frown and dip his head, brow furrowed and more than a little pained before he smooths it out again to look at him accusingly. ] You don't get to be angry with me. That's not how it works. [ it's sharp and openly bitter and he crosses his arms over his chest, still staring at him. there's hurt lurking in his eyes. so much for that poker face. ] Over and over again I try to give everything I am, everything I have to you, and every time you reject me. Every time.
[ he moves closer, gripping at the front of his clothing tightly. ] You know how much I want you. Do you realize how much of everything else? How I love you, how I want to give you everything I'd never given anyone else--still haven't given anyone else. I want it to be you.
Do you understand what I'm saying? Everything I've kept pristine, I want overtaken with you.
[ so, despite the childish dalliances, he's never actually slept with anyone. and he wants it to be graves that he finally does sleep with.
suddenly he's moving, totally ignoring the feeling of anger radiating off graves - the man he wants, the man he needs, the man he loves - and he wraps his arms around his neck, forehead dropping to his chest. ] You can't keep getting my hopes up only to dash them. It hurts me, Percival. Worse still to ignore me afterward and leave me to wonder if this is the last rejection, if you've finally gotten sick of me.
[ it's... possibly the most raw and open he's ever been, and he can't bear to look at graves' response to it. ]