[ this is a very dangerous game they're playing all right -- credence asks something graves should not answer, his coy words the very nature of a young man who's discovered that he is desired, needed, and graves knows he cannot give him that. he craves him, is addicted to his kisses, and something in his eyes darkens as he grasps him by the back of his neck, keeping him close. he's hissing softly when he feels credence cradling the nape of his neck, when he plays with him, every sensation greedily swallowed up because he doesn't know when this will stop. ]

You don't need to know that, Credence. [ he brushes his mouth over his lightly. he doesn't need to know how he's the star of his filthiest dreams, his most impossible desires. ] You don't need to know how much I want you. How I'd kill to have your mouth on me. Or imagine what you'd look like spread wide on my bed, ripe for the taking.