That's always the excuse, like waiting a few more weeks, a few more months, turns it into something saintlike. I don't care. You're willing to kiss me, to get me off over the phone, but you won't let me touch you and you won't fuck me. Are those really that much more damning?

[ it's a lot for him to say on the matter - usually his protests are short and sharp and then he falls into sullen silences. not today.

he sighs, gripping tightly to graves and refusing to let him go. i love you, he doesn't repeat, instead closing his eyes and standing silently against him before snorting at the question presented to him. ] He's lucky I let him touch me at all. [ but then he's more solemn, shaking his head. ] No. He wanted to, but I wouldn't let him.

[ but why? how strange, the way a young mafioso's mind works. still, he lifts his head to nuzzle softly against graves' cheek. ] You should kiss me instead. You keep my body safe, so keep my heart safe too.

[ he seems very shy again suddenly in a way that both suits him and sits oddly on his countenance. he lifts one hand, looking at him as though he's memorizing each detail of his face as he brushes the backs of his fingers along his jaw. ] You're the only one I've ever wanted.