insidiose: ('cause talking to doctors doesn't help)
credence. ([personal profile] insidiose) wrote 2017-06-02 06:43 am (UTC)

[ credence returns the kiss readily, happy for how gentle it is, for the sharp contrast between what happened earlier and what's happening now. he kisses him again, idly, as he steps out of the car to get in the elevator. ] Mm. Good.

[ then his brow furrows once before it smooths out and he nods. ] All right. [ of course he will - he desperately craves something gentle and calm now, but the thought of graves slowly and lovingly reclaiming him via those marks is just what the doctor ordered.

and so: when he gets upstairs he heads to their bedroom to undress, standing and looking at himself in the full-length mirror afterward with a slight frown. bruises on his neck and throat, around his wrist, at his hip. claimed from him without permission, marks that make his throat burn with bile.

he wants the mere thought of it to be gone forever. ]

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