[ graves can be every kind of asshole, but definitely not like that. his assholery has limits and they extend to credence in most things. he's looking back at him steadily, because he means what he says and if credence is looking for proof he will find it right here, right where he lets credence take the lead (which is actually new for graves in just about every way). he licks his lips and graves fights not to be drawn to it, even if he's already half-hard under him.
fuck.
but then credence says the most ridiculously innocent things and graves is reminded of how young he is despite the fact that he has to grow up far too quickly, he's reminded that he's barely an adult, and his gaze is drawn to how credence presses a kiss to his palm, warm and soft and all he thinks of is how he wants that mouth on his cock, how he wants him on his knees, and he swallows.
no, not now. ] Yes. [ he promises, because credence is worth it. he has to be; graves wanted him since the moment he sat down with him at dinner. ] You have all the time in the world, and I'm in no hurry.
[ although as a hot-blooded, virile male a part of him hopes credence doesn't take years. ]
[ credence does find what he's looking for in graves' face, at least for now. he still has more questions but he's satisfied for the moment. and of course: there's no way he doesn't feel the way the way the older man has started to harden beneath him but the fact that he's not pushing him, not trying to get him to "take care of it for me, just this once" like so many other men might.
he knows that graves wants him. it's obvious now, the way he looks at him, the way he holds him. credence shifts where he sits, not trying to make things worse but just getting a little more comfortable for the moment. ] Thank you.
[ after a series of long moments he moves to slide off of graves' lap, standing before him thoughtful and quiet. then he leans forward, one hand resting on the arm of the chair. he presses a slow and lingering kiss to the older man's mouth, his other hand moving up to run his fingers through his dark hair, nails scraping once over the silvered bits at the sides. is it a test? he's not saying.
he pulls back afterward, smiling faintly. it's genuine this time, even. ] I'm happy here.
[ he's happy here, and the simplicity of such a statement brings with it something heart-warming, compelling, and he can't help but smile faintly at that. what a strange thing for credence to say, but all in keeping with his nature, he's realised. underneath the brittle exterior is someone softer, someone who only needs a chance.
graves makes no indication that he intends to act on his arousal, and he kisses him back as he lets him go, leaning into his touch. if this is a test, he knows he's just passed with flying colors. ]
Good. I would hope you continue to be so. [ he responds simply. it's more and more easy to acknowledge credence as a staple in his penthouse, to have another person in this massive space, and he's getting used to having him around; especially after his comprehensive background checks turned up on the second day and assured graves that he's clean (one can't be too careful). he grabs a hold of his hand, before brushing a kiss to his knuckles, his eyes dark and full of promise. ]
[ graves has in fact passed with flying colors. it makes credence's smile widen a little despite himself, eyes a little brighter maybe. just a little.
credence honestly can't believe he's being treated so gently and he stares into the older man's eyes as his hand is kissed and it drags a flush from the tips of his ears all the way down to where it disappears under the collar of his shirt. which is a little funny, considering he's just been sitting in his lap in nothing but said shirt and had been willing to sleep with him if pressed--
--still, he rubs at his face with the back of his arm, kind of embarrassed about it. ] I think I will be.
[ it's soft, and before he leaves he actually leans in to kiss his cheek like he can't help himself. ] Goodnight. [ it's definitely time for him to flee, before he embarrasses himself more. he disappears back into the corridor with little fanfare. ]
[ it's months later when it happens, when a syndicate takes credence away and holds him hostage for information on a weapon locked away in graves' most confidential files, and graves discovers what he's had under his nose all along, the son of a long-deceased politician who -- has had several clandestine dealings -- but the long and short of it is that credence has absolutely nothing to do with any of it; the boy had been an infant when his mother had been assassinated, and graves takes the abduction very personally.
it's because credence is his adopted son, is the rumor mill going around in the bureau -- which thankfully didn't reach the person he answers to -- and graves makes the sindicate regret ever laying a hand on credence within three long, sleepless days. the raid had been ruthlessly executed, put together in record time when graves personally decided to enter the field against strong advice to do otherwise.
they kill just about all of them save one or two in that raid, seizing every scrap of information on their operations. the two survivors are apprehended and taken to a black site, where graves knows there's no coming back from (he'll make personally sure of it, too). credence, after having been reviewed by a physician and cleared as safe to return, is finally back in the privacy of graves' penthouse.
he takes extra precautions this time around, even if credence hadn't been abducted from this apartment. one can never be too careful, and graves isn't in the mood to risk another abduction. he's still smarting from the fact that they hadn't managed to uncover this in the background checks -- although to be fair there's no background check in the world that can uncover something like that.
he pours him a glass of water, sleeves folded up to his elbows. he's carefully watching credence, observing him for any signs of abnormal trauma, or any kind of shock that will require immediate medical attention. in some cases, shock can present belatedly, or even repeatedly. ]
Do you want to sleep with me tonight? [ he asks finally. ] In the literal sense.
[ it immediately shatters every sense of security that credence had slowly built up over the months he'd been living with graves. not when it comes to the older man - no, that won't change any time soon - but in general, the feeling of quiet malaise that had finally (blissfully) left him some time ago returning in full force.
still, a part of him somehow manages to keep from being frightened. as terrifying as the experience is he knows it will have to end soon and he clings to that thought. he's kept in a locked room until they catch him trying to climb out the previously barred window. it seems they haven't looked into him enough to know of his past; they've only seen him with graves and decided to take a chance.
so then he's kept bound instead, hands behind his back uncomfortably with the thick zip ties tight enough to bruise. it's not the only mark he gets. he's sitting across from one of the men when he tips his head aside before tossing his hair back out of his face. he's going to kill you, he says, soft and certain, and it earns him a backhand that splits his lip and bruises his cheek and makes him bite his tongue. credence just smiles in response, just a little bloody, and whispers now he'll do it slow.
a lot of it is bravado because he feels so small and lost here, but he also knows it's not far from the truth. it's another day before he sees the older man and the bruises have blossomed dark on his face. he looks at him with wide eyes before they narrow and he hisses a vindictive kill them all.
and, well, here they are.
being in graves' apartment again makes him a little anxious but not being alone in it helps. he has his arms resting on the counter he's sitting at, both hands on the glass of water but not drinking any of it. it's almost as though it takes him a moment to process the question properly but then he looks up and over at him, quietly observing graves' face before he nods. his shoulders are hunched and he's leaning forward, reminiscent of when he'd first moved in. ] Please. I don't want to be alone.
[ graves had been enraged when he saw the bruises, the physical evidence of what's been done to credence -- and what would have been done if graves had been slower in getting to him, the consequences of which he's not prepared to see come to fruition. credence hisses, knows graves is here for him, and graves doesn't hesitate to do as he says.
agents like them have free rein when it comes to ops like these (they would be a lot less effective otherwise) and here they are, back in his apartment, together again, and graves feels the weight of the sleepless nights, the constant pressure and the fear he keeps at bay, refusing to consider the worst possibility.
and now it's credence, safe and sound, looking up and him and telling him he doesn't want to be alone. he nods, a hand lightly resting on the back of his neck, careful and gentle. ]
All right. Come to me when you're done with your shower. [ he'll take a quick one, himself -- and see where the rest of the night takes them. ]
[ at first the hand at his neck makes him tense - it's not graves at all, more a conditioned response to any touch after the past few days - but that drains out of him quickly and he practically leans into it, breathing out and letting his eyes flutter shut. when he pulls himself off of the stool reluctantly he nods, eyes flicking over to look at him. he manages a tiny smile. ] All right. I shouldn't be long.
[ he drinks some of the water before he disappears to take his shower, but he does take a little longer than strictly necessary. the reason why is immediately apparent when he comes into graves' room, looking exhausted. his skin is red and almost raw, a mix of nearly-scalding water and scrubbing himself relentlessly. even his face, where the split on his lip looks almost fresh because he's opened it again in his vigorous washing. he's in pajamas and his hair is very slightly damp but he sits at the edge of the bed, chewing on his lip even though that just makes it hurt more.
he's still not sure he feels clean, but it's a start. it's strange to be here and to sit on this bed, even if he knows he could have whenever he liked. ] Thank you.
[ graves looks up from his place in an armchair near the bed; he had taken a shower of his own, making some calls while he hears the water running in credence's room, and a preliminary scan of the reports he's just been sent. credence is a mess, he can see it, his skin rubbed raw and his lip almost bleeding again. graves frowns, rising from it and setting his phone aside. he's in a simple white shirt and pants, evidently preparing to go to sleep as well.
credence is the one who needs him tonight, and he moves forward, his fingers gentle as they grasp his chin, easing his bottom lip free. ]
Don't do that. You'll open it up again. [ if it hasn't already. it'll close up on its own, but only if credence allows it. ] Do you need anything?
[ credence watches graves move, eyes following him ceaselessly. he tips his head up into the touch almost despite himself but he relents, licking his lips once before leaving it alone. ] Sorry. [ it's automatic and very quiet. his hands are balled into fists and resting on his knees and he doesn't know what to do with himself.
do you need anything?
credence shakes his head, tipping it forward again. that's only brief before he stands suddenly, both hands grasping at the front of graves' shirt as he tucks his face in against his neck. it probably looks ridiculous - credence is a little taller than him after all - but he doesn't care, eyes clenched shut. for a long moment he just breathes, not crying but sounding oddly hitched.
then, muffled: ] I knew you'd come for me. [ such a blatant show of trust and faith: it's important, from someone like him. ]
[ always. it's a promise he'll keep to the end of his days, whenever that is. his arms winding around credence's lean frame, his hand comes to rest on the back of his head, cradling him there like a lover. credence fits nicely against him, and he can only imagine the fear and the trauma he'd been through all the same. three days of it can fuck anyone up -- and not for the first time he thinks the dead have gotten off too easy.
he buries his face in his damp hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, fresh and clean, a reminder of how credence has made a life with him here, getting back on his feet and exploring his options -- the things you can do with your life when you don't have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.
he doesn't miss the show of trust, of faith; it's humbling, and he closes his eyes. ]
[ the promise makes him suck in a breath but he doesn't move, just stays coiled against him like that and soaking in every bit of affection he can get. credence's hands finally smooth out flat instead of clutching at fabric quite so tightly. he feels like he can truly breathe for the first time in days. at those last words though, he shakes his head. just a little. ]
I'd wait as long as it took.
[ simple, quiet. finally, he straightens enough to look at him, dark eyes searching his face. he does this often these days, slightly owlish expression taking in the sight of him. it seems different now though, somehow. he brushes his lips across graves' cheek, his jaw, then kisses him on the mouth - very softly, barely there. ]
[ there are bruises on that beautiful face -- his anger still simmering despite the fact that he has paid the perpetrators their due. they looked upon his face and hurt him, those lovely dark eyes and his lips -- they took him from graves and tortured him, and he has to swallow to fight down that anger.
he can feel it, the heat of his hands against his shirt, a desire stirring to life even if he knows he will do nothing against credence's will, not even to ask. he kisses him back, just as soft, just as tender, mindful of his cut lip. ]
[ somehow, credence hadn't expected to actually be questioned about the quiet thought. it's stupid to have thought that though, and he hesitates before he says anything. he seems shy again suddenly but he doesn't look away. ]
You.
[ soft, barely audible. his hand comes up to touch the side of his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. ] I don't know how else to say it. I want to stay with you. Always.
[ one day, graves thinks, credence will find someone his age -- he'll find someone new and maybe this won't last. graves is not naive; he's left a string of failed relationships in his wake, and perhaps this would be the same, or this would surprise him, but he's leaning into credence's touch nonetheless, softly seeking him out, lips brushing over the pads of his fingertips.
he's smitten with him, drawn to credence in ways he knows is wrong -- he's twice his age, for one, but the infatuation has barely faded, deepened into something else he's constantly aware of. ]
You're welcome to stay as long as you like. [ he says in turn, eyes lidding as he wraps his arms around his waist. ] How do I make you feel better?
[ credence doesn't think about that: why would he, when the man before him has all of his attention, all of his affection? the idle kisses to his fingers send a tingling feeling through him, a pleasant thing that credence doesn't have much context for.
he shakes his head, leaning into graves' chest, enjoying the way he's holding on to him. ] You already do. All the time. [ he tips his head aside, this time trailing his lips across the path his fingers took last. then he settles at the pulse point below the older man's ear, lips and then teeth barely grazing it. ] You make me feel safe, and real, and wanted.
[ his attentions change then, just a little. he presses a heated kiss to where he'd just been barely touching, teeth scraping a little harder before he sucks lightly at the spot with a hum.
he wants to taste his skin, assure himself graves is really here, even if he has to pull away later. ]
[ graves tenses very minutely for only a few moments when he feels the kiss below his ear, the titillating graze of teeth and the heated press of lips and more -- as if credence is marking him for himself somehow, settling back into his territory and assuring himself that everywhere is where he's left it.
graves understands the feeling very well, and he leans into it after, curious and just a little turned on. he knows he won't push the matter, but the yearning for credence, for more, is curling in the pit of his stomach, a fire that simmers under his skin like a powerful, undeniable thing. the only reason why this is easier to quell is because of his awareness that credence has only just experienced something harrowing. he makes a soft, inaudible noise at his attentions, his hand coming to cradle the back of his head, tangling in his dark hair. ]
Credence. [ he breathes, soft and private. is he telling him to stop or continue? for the first time in a long while, he's not too clear on that. ] You must be tired.
[ his hands grip a little more tightly to the front of graves' shirt again, teeth catching at the skin in a sharp little nip before he leans into the fingers in his hair with a soft exhale.
the way graves says his name is so nice--but then he stills, surprised. when credence pulls back to look at him and search his face there's no hint of hurt in his expression but instead a wary sort of questioning. he lets go then, feeling a little cowed despite himself, and glances away once before nodding.
(maybe graves doesn't actually want him that way any more? it's a flutter of nervousness in the face of the obvious fact he still does.) ] I am...
[ oh, but he does. he does, and he doesn't miss the flicker of uncertainty in his eyes, which is why he leans forward to kiss his mouth harder, seeking and reassuring, firm and sure. his arm winds around him and keeps him there. where credence lets go, he doesn't.
he won't. ]
I still want you. [ he says, and that admission is difficult for a man like him to make. but he does -- despite the frustration of not having him, the ache of wanting but not being able to have. even now, having him in his arms is an incredible temptation. ] I want you more than anything else. [ he leans in to press his forehead against his. ] Credence, you have no idea what it's like to want so badly and not be able to touch. But you've had a long day -- you don't need to deal with this right now.
[ credence returns this kiss, urging into it, leaning into his grasp, and then he exhales shaking. it's a reassurance he'd desperately needed and he reaches to grasp at graves' arm briefly before he nods while their foreheads touch. ] All right.
[ he steals another kiss, this one soft and chaste, before smiling just a little. ] I'll rest, then.
[ when he pauses this time it's thoughtful and he pulls away slightly, just looking at him before he speaks cautiously and nervously. ] Is it all right that... [ a hesitation. ] Is it all right to love you? I--it's okay if you don't, I just--if you don't want me to I can pretend or try to stop or-- [ it's clear he's flustered - the ache and worry are so very real. ]
[ in the interest of full disclosure, and all that. graves runs his fingers through credence's hair, kissing him back again, again, and again, chaste and soft as he realizes what the boy's saying. he's flustered, worried and aching, and graves wants to do all he can to put him at ease.
his kisses trail down his throat, lingering over his pulse before he lays another kiss to it, slow and deliberate. ] But you're to finish what you started, Mr. Barebone. You're no quitter.
[ and neither is graves. he wants to love him, so badly -- hell, he already does; he can't imagine pretending not to. ] I won't lose you again.
[ he says it quietly, meaningfully. how long has he been feeling this way? he presses into those soft kisses, affectionate, needy. he breathes out shaking when they dip lower though, stretching out his neck and threading his fingers through the older man's hair in a way that's almost begging for more.
(graves' mouth at his pulse point makes him feel so good--) ] No, I won't give up. You're right. I haven't quit yet, why would I now?
[ softer. what graves says last touches him deeply and he closes his eyes a moment before he finally whispers. ]</small. I'm right here. I won't go anywhere.
[ graves doesn't entertain darker thoughts, doesn't allow himself to ruminate on 'what ifs', they're a waste of time when credence is here, present, and beautiful, burrowing against him so sweetly that he can't help the flicker of desire, the familiar coil of potent need.
he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
[ credence is having his own series of thoughts: how he feels safe again for the first time in what feels like years but is only a span of days in reality, the heat of graves' body against him, his breath, his lips. he breathes out slow once that hand settles at his back and he smiles faintly unseen.
then he pulls back a little to look at him, stepping back toward the bed and drawing the older man with him. ] Yes. I want to be reminded of where I am, who I'm with, and why I feel safe. [ he's smiling still as he sits at the edge of the mattress, now properly looking at him. his hands splay at graves' hips and hold him where he is, expression thoughtful. ] I want you above me, inside me, making absolutely sure that I'm yours.
[ he uses his grip to yank graves a tiny bit closer so that he can nuzzle at the front of his pants, breathe out hot against the fabric--and then glance up at him with a coy little smile. ] If that's all right with you.
[ graves is silent for a long moment, surprised by that little speech and demonstration, the fact that credence is finally, finally ready. the noble part of him wants to push this back, wants to remind him that he's functioning on the dregs of adrenaline, most likely. but the more selfish part, the one who desires credence so fiercely that sometimes he surprises himself, the most selfish part just wants credence and all that he is.
he looks at him, eyes dark and unmistakably hungry when credence holds him where he is, when he's seated like that and he's so close to where graves wants him, where he's fantasized about it -- jerking off in the shower because that's where he can find reprieve. he doesn't fight credence's advances, his hands coming in to comb through his hair when he feels the thrilling heat fanning over the crotch of his pants, a flicker of warmth going right to his cock.
fuck, he's so gone for him that it's embarrassing, and he wants more than anything to kiss that coy little smile away, or perhaps to make it grow, to show credence that he has nothing to fear with him. the words bring with them an overwhelming temptation, and he shivers, shifts to bow over him, cradling the boy in his arms before pushing him back onto the bed, straddling him, knees over either side of his thighs. ]
What a mouth you have on you. [ graves muses, soft but impressed, lips coming to brush over his cheek. ] Let me take care of you tonight. [ his eyes hold a promise of all that is to come, intense and unrelenting. talking through credence's experience can wait -- there are times when you just need to process it differently, and graves is more than happy to oblige. ] Make you forget everything else but me.
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no subject
fuck.
but then credence says the most ridiculously innocent things and graves is reminded of how young he is despite the fact that he has to grow up far too quickly, he's reminded that he's barely an adult, and his gaze is drawn to how credence presses a kiss to his palm, warm and soft and all he thinks of is how he wants that mouth on his cock, how he wants him on his knees, and he swallows.
no, not now. ] Yes. [ he promises, because credence is worth it. he has to be; graves wanted him since the moment he sat down with him at dinner. ] You have all the time in the world, and I'm in no hurry.
[ although as a hot-blooded, virile male a part of him hopes credence doesn't take years. ]
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he knows that graves wants him. it's obvious now, the way he looks at him, the way he holds him. credence shifts where he sits, not trying to make things worse but just getting a little more comfortable for the moment. ] Thank you.
[ after a series of long moments he moves to slide off of graves' lap, standing before him thoughtful and quiet. then he leans forward, one hand resting on the arm of the chair. he presses a slow and lingering kiss to the older man's mouth, his other hand moving up to run his fingers through his dark hair, nails scraping once over the silvered bits at the sides. is it a test? he's not saying.
he pulls back afterward, smiling faintly. it's genuine this time, even. ] I'm happy here.
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graves makes no indication that he intends to act on his arousal, and he kisses him back as he lets him go, leaning into his touch. if this is a test, he knows he's just passed with flying colors. ]
Good. I would hope you continue to be so. [ he responds simply. it's more and more easy to acknowledge credence as a staple in his penthouse, to have another person in this massive space, and he's getting used to having him around; especially after his comprehensive background checks turned up on the second day and assured graves that he's clean (one can't be too careful). he grabs a hold of his hand, before brushing a kiss to his knuckles, his eyes dark and full of promise. ]
Goodnight, Credence.
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credence honestly can't believe he's being treated so gently and he stares into the older man's eyes as his hand is kissed and it drags a flush from the tips of his ears all the way down to where it disappears under the collar of his shirt. which is a little funny, considering he's just been sitting in his lap in nothing but said shirt and had been willing to sleep with him if pressed--
--still, he rubs at his face with the back of his arm, kind of embarrassed about it. ] I think I will be.
[ it's soft, and before he leaves he actually leans in to kiss his cheek like he can't help himself. ] Goodnight. [ it's definitely time for him to flee, before he embarrasses himself more. he disappears back into the corridor with little fanfare. ]
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it's because credence is his adopted son, is the rumor mill going around in the bureau -- which thankfully didn't reach the person he answers to -- and graves makes the sindicate regret ever laying a hand on credence within three long, sleepless days. the raid had been ruthlessly executed, put together in record time when graves personally decided to enter the field against strong advice to do otherwise.
they kill just about all of them save one or two in that raid, seizing every scrap of information on their operations. the two survivors are apprehended and taken to a black site, where graves knows there's no coming back from (he'll make personally sure of it, too). credence, after having been reviewed by a physician and cleared as safe to return, is finally back in the privacy of graves' penthouse.
he takes extra precautions this time around, even if credence hadn't been abducted from this apartment. one can never be too careful, and graves isn't in the mood to risk another abduction. he's still smarting from the fact that they hadn't managed to uncover this in the background checks -- although to be fair there's no background check in the world that can uncover something like that.
he pours him a glass of water, sleeves folded up to his elbows. he's carefully watching credence, observing him for any signs of abnormal trauma, or any kind of shock that will require immediate medical attention. in some cases, shock can present belatedly, or even repeatedly. ]
Do you want to sleep with me tonight? [ he asks finally. ] In the literal sense.
no subject
still, a part of him somehow manages to keep from being frightened. as terrifying as the experience is he knows it will have to end soon and he clings to that thought. he's kept in a locked room until they catch him trying to climb out the previously barred window. it seems they haven't looked into him enough to know of his past; they've only seen him with graves and decided to take a chance.
so then he's kept bound instead, hands behind his back uncomfortably with the thick zip ties tight enough to bruise. it's not the only mark he gets. he's sitting across from one of the men when he tips his head aside before tossing his hair back out of his face. he's going to kill you, he says, soft and certain, and it earns him a backhand that splits his lip and bruises his cheek and makes him bite his tongue. credence just smiles in response, just a little bloody, and whispers now he'll do it slow.
a lot of it is bravado because he feels so small and lost here, but he also knows it's not far from the truth. it's another day before he sees the older man and the bruises have blossomed dark on his face. he looks at him with wide eyes before they narrow and he hisses a vindictive kill them all.
and, well, here they are.
being in graves' apartment again makes him a little anxious but not being alone in it helps. he has his arms resting on the counter he's sitting at, both hands on the glass of water but not drinking any of it. it's almost as though it takes him a moment to process the question properly but then he looks up and over at him, quietly observing graves' face before he nods. his shoulders are hunched and he's leaning forward, reminiscent of when he'd first moved in. ] Please. I don't want to be alone.
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agents like them have free rein when it comes to ops like these (they would be a lot less effective otherwise) and here they are, back in his apartment, together again, and graves feels the weight of the sleepless nights, the constant pressure and the fear he keeps at bay, refusing to consider the worst possibility.
and now it's credence, safe and sound, looking up and him and telling him he doesn't want to be alone. he nods, a hand lightly resting on the back of his neck, careful and gentle. ]
All right. Come to me when you're done with your shower. [ he'll take a quick one, himself -- and see where the rest of the night takes them. ]
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[ he drinks some of the water before he disappears to take his shower, but he does take a little longer than strictly necessary. the reason why is immediately apparent when he comes into graves' room, looking exhausted. his skin is red and almost raw, a mix of nearly-scalding water and scrubbing himself relentlessly. even his face, where the split on his lip looks almost fresh because he's opened it again in his vigorous washing. he's in pajamas and his hair is very slightly damp but he sits at the edge of the bed, chewing on his lip even though that just makes it hurt more.
he's still not sure he feels clean, but it's a start. it's strange to be here and to sit on this bed, even if he knows he could have whenever he liked. ] Thank you.
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credence is the one who needs him tonight, and he moves forward, his fingers gentle as they grasp his chin, easing his bottom lip free. ]
Don't do that. You'll open it up again. [ if it hasn't already. it'll close up on its own, but only if credence allows it. ] Do you need anything?
no subject
do you need anything?
credence shakes his head, tipping it forward again. that's only brief before he stands suddenly, both hands grasping at the front of graves' shirt as he tucks his face in against his neck. it probably looks ridiculous - credence is a little taller than him after all - but he doesn't care, eyes clenched shut. for a long moment he just breathes, not crying but sounding oddly hitched.
then, muffled: ] I knew you'd come for me. [ such a blatant show of trust and faith: it's important, from someone like him. ]
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[ always. it's a promise he'll keep to the end of his days, whenever that is. his arms winding around credence's lean frame, his hand comes to rest on the back of his head, cradling him there like a lover. credence fits nicely against him, and he can only imagine the fear and the trauma he'd been through all the same. three days of it can fuck anyone up -- and not for the first time he thinks the dead have gotten off too easy.
he buries his face in his damp hair, breathing in the smell of his shampoo, fresh and clean, a reminder of how credence has made a life with him here, getting back on his feet and exploring his options -- the things you can do with your life when you don't have to worry about where your next meal is coming from.
he doesn't miss the show of trust, of faith; it's humbling, and he closes his eyes. ]
I've kept you waiting.
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I'd wait as long as it took.
[ simple, quiet. finally, he straightens enough to look at him, dark eyes searching his face. he does this often these days, slightly owlish expression taking in the sight of him. it seems different now though, somehow. he brushes his lips across graves' cheek, his jaw, then kisses him on the mouth - very softly, barely there. ]
Sometimes I'm scared of how much I feel.
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he can feel it, the heat of his hands against his shirt, a desire stirring to life even if he knows he will do nothing against credence's will, not even to ask. he kisses him back, just as soft, just as tender, mindful of his cut lip. ]
How much you feel about what?
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You.
[ soft, barely audible. his hand comes up to touch the side of his face, fingers tracing the line of his jaw. ] I don't know how else to say it. I want to stay with you. Always.
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he's smitten with him, drawn to credence in ways he knows is wrong -- he's twice his age, for one, but the infatuation has barely faded, deepened into something else he's constantly aware of. ]
You're welcome to stay as long as you like. [ he says in turn, eyes lidding as he wraps his arms around his waist. ] How do I make you feel better?
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he shakes his head, leaning into graves' chest, enjoying the way he's holding on to him. ] You already do. All the time. [ he tips his head aside, this time trailing his lips across the path his fingers took last. then he settles at the pulse point below the older man's ear, lips and then teeth barely grazing it. ] You make me feel safe, and real, and wanted.
[ his attentions change then, just a little. he presses a heated kiss to where he'd just been barely touching, teeth scraping a little harder before he sucks lightly at the spot with a hum.
he wants to taste his skin, assure himself graves is really here, even if he has to pull away later. ]
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graves understands the feeling very well, and he leans into it after, curious and just a little turned on. he knows he won't push the matter, but the yearning for credence, for more, is curling in the pit of his stomach, a fire that simmers under his skin like a powerful, undeniable thing. the only reason why this is easier to quell is because of his awareness that credence has only just experienced something harrowing. he makes a soft, inaudible noise at his attentions, his hand coming to cradle the back of his head, tangling in his dark hair. ]
Credence. [ he breathes, soft and private. is he telling him to stop or continue? for the first time in a long while, he's not too clear on that. ] You must be tired.
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the way graves says his name is so nice--but then he stills, surprised. when credence pulls back to look at him and search his face there's no hint of hurt in his expression but instead a wary sort of questioning. he lets go then, feeling a little cowed despite himself, and glances away once before nodding.
(maybe graves doesn't actually want him that way any more? it's a flutter of nervousness in the face of the obvious fact he still does.) ] I am...
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he won't. ]
I still want you. [ he says, and that admission is difficult for a man like him to make. but he does -- despite the frustration of not having him, the ache of wanting but not being able to have. even now, having him in his arms is an incredible temptation. ] I want you more than anything else. [ he leans in to press his forehead against his. ] Credence, you have no idea what it's like to want so badly and not be able to touch. But you've had a long day -- you don't need to deal with this right now.
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[ he steals another kiss, this one soft and chaste, before smiling just a little. ] I'll rest, then.
[ when he pauses this time it's thoughtful and he pulls away slightly, just looking at him before he speaks cautiously and nervously. ] Is it all right that... [ a hesitation. ] Is it all right to love you? I--it's okay if you don't, I just--if you don't want me to I can pretend or try to stop or-- [ it's clear he's flustered - the ache and worry are so very real. ]
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[ in the interest of full disclosure, and all that. graves runs his fingers through credence's hair, kissing him back again, again, and again, chaste and soft as he realizes what the boy's saying. he's flustered, worried and aching, and graves wants to do all he can to put him at ease.
his kisses trail down his throat, lingering over his pulse before he lays another kiss to it, slow and deliberate. ] But you're to finish what you started, Mr. Barebone. You're no quitter.
[ and neither is graves. he wants to love him, so badly -- hell, he already does; he can't imagine pretending not to. ] I won't lose you again.
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[ he says it quietly, meaningfully. how long has he been feeling this way? he presses into those soft kisses, affectionate, needy. he breathes out shaking when they dip lower though, stretching out his neck and threading his fingers through the older man's hair in a way that's almost begging for more.
(graves' mouth at his pulse point makes him feel so good--) ] No, I won't give up. You're right. I haven't quit yet, why would I now?
[ softer. what graves says last touches him deeply and he closes his eyes a moment before he finally whispers. ]</small. I'm right here. I won't go anywhere.
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he nuzzles against him, his hand slipping, splaying over the small of his back underneath his shirt. he takes a deep breath -- and it takes so much effort to keep himself in check. He wants to touch him, kiss him, he wants so much more and he's waited so damn long, but he can't. Not right now.
Or can he? ]
Are you all right with this?
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then he pulls back a little to look at him, stepping back toward the bed and drawing the older man with him. ] Yes. I want to be reminded of where I am, who I'm with, and why I feel safe. [ he's smiling still as he sits at the edge of the mattress, now properly looking at him. his hands splay at graves' hips and hold him where he is, expression thoughtful. ] I want you above me, inside me, making absolutely sure that I'm yours.
[ he uses his grip to yank graves a tiny bit closer so that he can nuzzle at the front of his pants, breathe out hot against the fabric--and then glance up at him with a coy little smile. ] If that's all right with you.
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he looks at him, eyes dark and unmistakably hungry when credence holds him where he is, when he's seated like that and he's so close to where graves wants him, where he's fantasized about it -- jerking off in the shower because that's where he can find reprieve. he doesn't fight credence's advances, his hands coming in to comb through his hair when he feels the thrilling heat fanning over the crotch of his pants, a flicker of warmth going right to his cock.
fuck, he's so gone for him that it's embarrassing, and he wants more than anything to kiss that coy little smile away, or perhaps to make it grow, to show credence that he has nothing to fear with him. the words bring with them an overwhelming temptation, and he shivers, shifts to bow over him, cradling the boy in his arms before pushing him back onto the bed, straddling him, knees over either side of his thighs. ]
What a mouth you have on you. [ graves muses, soft but impressed, lips coming to brush over his cheek. ] Let me take care of you tonight. [ his eyes hold a promise of all that is to come, intense and unrelenting. talking through credence's experience can wait -- there are times when you just need to process it differently, and graves is more than happy to oblige. ] Make you forget everything else but me.
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