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Graves sat back on his throne at the front of the palace, to Grindelwald’s left side and observed the crowded and cheerful hall. But no one dare to hold his gaze for long so he turned his attention back to the wine glass and the auras flew next to his side to fill it right away.
“Are you enjoying the party?”, Grindelwald turned and grinned at him knowingly.
“I am”, his face was a mask of ice giving nothing away.
In fact, since he arrived at the party, the only thing Graves had in his mind was why he would agree to join. It was once a year, as Grindelwald requested, to be in this winter festival. But it was too much for him to bear. He did not like being in an open and bright place like this; he missed his home in the underground world better. The roughness of the surface, the heat of the air or the never-ending sounds of dying souls screaming and whispering, Graves would pick that over this Olympus anytime. What he hated even more was the looks other gods and goddess have at him. They were confused; they were annoyed and they were scared seeing him joining them at this party as if he would accidentally kill them if they annoyed him. But it might be true and Graves knew of his limited temper pretty well.
“You should smile more, make people approach you easier”, Grindelwald offered his advice wholeheartedly. “Step down the stairs, go and talk to them, you can have any goddess in here”, he waved his hands to the crowd in front of them as if it was no big deal.
Percival rolled his eyes at his brother in disbelief. Surely he had no problem being comfortable in his own house, God of the Sky, and clearly enjoyed himself so much in the conversation with their brother, Dumbledore, the God of the Sea. Graves ignored them both, remained silent and emptied his wine glass in one gulp. He would not stay here for long.
Graves’ eyes skimmed the busy crowd in front of him one more time. Apollo was in one corner, drinking and playing music with his harp and the muses dancing around him. Artemis and Ares were having a hand-wrestling rematch. The gods slided from one table to another easily with a glass of wine in their hands. In the far corner of the hallway, Graves could tell a group of gods and goddess were making out shamelessly mindless of the surrounding.
And then he caught a tall slender figure of a young god in sleeveless robe with a golden rope hanging loose around his waist as a belt. The boy moved gracefully through the crowd with a vase full of wine but never leave one drop falling to the ground. His face was a beautifully well-sculptured statue with sharp jawline, lips curving in perfect line to form a brief smile. It was not a bright smile, more restrained but beautiful nonetheless. And Graves had the sudden urge to reach for that small chin, tilt his head up so he could gaze at the boy better. He got curly black hair adorning the edges of his features, with a circle of golden leaf on top, keeping the hair in place and leaving only a few strands loosening on his side.
The boy did not serve wine for every guests. He, instead, made his way through the crowd approaching three thrones at the top where Graves was sitting and eyeing him closely. He stopped and bowed in front of the Greatest Three; Grindelwald motioned for him to come closer and he quickly refiled the god’s cup with more wine. Then he turned to serve Dumbledore and then approached Graves finally.
As the boy served him, Graves took time to take in more details such as the long eyelashes and the pink rosy lips. The boy peeked up at Graves curiously when he could feel his gaze on him.
“Is there anything I can do for you?”, he asked quietly but Graves did not miss the trembling tone in his voice.
Great, another one was fearful of him before he even opened his mouth.
Graves shook away the list of all things he see the boy can pleasure him in his head. But he replied with a friendly question instead.
“Do you have a name?”, he asked simply.
“It’s Credence, sir”, he spoke again; his eyes were kept more on the wine in Graves’ glass instead of directly at him.
“Where are you from, Credence?”, he tried softening his tone in hope that the boy would be more relaxed with him. But it appeared that the low and restrained tone he put on terrified the boy even more as he retreated his trembling hand carrying the wine.
“I was a mortal, a resident of Troy before Grindelwald decided to take me here, grant me with immortality, and keep me serving closely for him”, he said quietly and kept glaring at God of the Sky on Graves’ side.
“It was not hard for his dad to agree letting him go”, Grindelwald leaned over, his hand palming Graves’ arm-rest fondly.
“I took Credence here, and left the fastest horses back for his Dad, the type that were used for the Gods themselves. The old man could not argue”, Grindelwald grinned darkly.
“You kidnap him?", Graves's tone rose to the unusual high pitch. He looked at Grindelwald accusingly.
"Why? Yes, I did", Grindelwald spoke proudly though he eyed his brother with caution. From his right side, Dumbledore gave Grave a knowing look, shaking his head lightly. "There's no point arguing in this", Dumbledore implied in his look.
“He was the most beautiful of all mortals, a gem of my collection”, the God added more as his fingers ran teasingly along Credence’s white slender arm.
The boy shivered visibly but he did not step back. From the other side, Picquery, his wife gave Grindelwald a curious look so he withdrew his hands. And as if he only waited for that, Credence stepped back and disappeared in the crowd.
o0o
When Grindelwald was fully in deep conversation with Dumbledore and Graves decided he had enough of the Olympus wine for the day, he stood up and left quietly. His two brothers did not even notice and so was the crowd. But as he walked through the hall, they would clear out of the way like his cloak was made of poisonous thorns or his scent was disgusting to them no matter if they were sober or not.
A familiar figure at the end of the corridor caught his attention and Graves headed to the direction without thinking clearly of the reasons. He was drawn to the man; his eyes locked onto the figure leaning against the corridor and looking out at the blue sky.
Credence closed his eyes, sniffing in the fresh air and enjoying the quiet moments he could distance himself from the party, from Grindelwald’s hands. He was not aware of Graves until the god pressed his palms to Credence’s pale cheeks. Credence opened his eyes in shock, only to meet the pair of dark black eyes gazing at him...attentively. Opposite to his outfit and reputation, Graves’s hands were warm and the glare was not lethal or kill-on-spot as others had rumored.
“You’re beautiful”, Percival breathed still holding his gaze at the cup-bearer.
Credence stepped back immediately. He had heard this many times, been aware of these gestures’ implications and known where it would lead to.
“Thank you, Lord Graves”, he said not daring to meet the god’s eyes.
“But I should return to the party to serve Lord Grindelwald”, he mumbled the final words with difficulty. The thought of going back there made him sick, and it just increased more and more as the night arrived.
“You don’t want to go back”, it was not a question at all and Percival held Credence back by his wrist.
“Would you like to go for a walk instead?”, Graves asked softly hoping that he would not appear intimidating as he usually was, not in front of this boy.
He then stepped back giving Credence some space to consider his offer. His initial approach might be too much and it scared the boy more. Everyone would be scared of him, to be fair enough, so Graves tried a different approach.
Credence nodded slowly and led their way to the back garden, further away from the main hall. They walked in silent and kept a fair far distance, Percival noticed, probably to make Credence feel comfortable. The garden’s gate and the surrounding area had some couples making out here and there, by the water fall, leaning against the trees or hiding behind the bushes. The God of Death chuckled to himself because when he randomly made eye contact with anyone, they would stare back in horror, jaw dropped and stop whatever they were doing. Credence however walked past them all, his eyes were on the ground as he purposely avoided all the sights. It was a strange thing, considering how familiar such lustful activities were a daily part of Olympus’s life.
“What do you think about Olympus?”, Graves asked as they finally settled down on the grass by a small lake deep in the forest, far from the garden, judging by the dense of trees and the strange quietness.
Credence peeked up at him worryingly but he did not rush to answer. His hands fidgeted the end of his robe belt, tying them into knots and then undone them constantly.
“Do you know who I am?”, Graves sounded amused.
“You’re Percival Graves, God of the Underground”, Credence’s reply was small as if the fear in him had not been lifted yet.
“Correct. And then you should know I’m not a citizen of the Olympus and you could talk badly about it as much as you want. I would not punish you for that.”, he added with a small smile. The movement was strange; his facial expression was not used to that. And Graves did not know, what spell he was under to spend this much effort on this conversation.
Credence eyed him suspiciously but he made no comment.
“I enjoyed my life on the Olympus, and forever grateful for Lord Grindelwald’s blessing to take me here”, the smile did not quite reach his eyes.
Percival could tell easily it was a lie since he dealt frequently with human’s most desperate attempts to lie and deceive when in hell but he let it go. Credence changed his sitting position, straightening his legs and lied down with his hands resting behind his head.
“Could you tell me of your Underworld?”, the boy looked at him expectantly, eye-flashes fluttering and Graves was at loss for words.
Where would he start, the god of Death wondered. Because Olympus was bright and shinning, filled with cool fresh airs gifted fondly by Aelous, chilling with music, green trees and sweet fruit, good wine. His Underworld was everything on the other end of the spectrum. It was dark and ugly, the only music they could hear was the screaming souls or the endless whispers mourning about their regrets and vengeance. It was full of people, dead people wandering aimlessly but the sight looked crowded and busy, unlike the quiet empty usual scenes in Olympus.
“But at least you see no one fucking around in the Underworld”, Graves commented nonchalantly.
Credence bursted out a laugh and Graves stared at him in wonder. He did not plan to make a joke but the boy was laughing hysterical.
“I’m sorry Sir. I mean no disrespect”, Credence stopped his laughing and went back to wresting his fingers together. His eyes peeked up at Graves guarding his reactions.
“It’s okay. Your smile is beautiful”, Graves blurted out. The words came unexpectedly but he then regretted nothing of it as the pink shade rose on the boy’s cheeks again. Credence avoided his attentive gaze but he seemed more relax now in Graves’s company. So the God of the Underworld took it as a personal achievement.
o0o
In the spring festival next year, everyone was surprised when Graves appeared at the door. His presence silenced the entire cheering hall. Even Apollo was at loss for the notes to fill in his composed music piece when meeting Graves’s eyes. Surprise flashed across both Grindelwald and Dumbledore, Graves could tell, as he met the two’s eyes from afar. Grindelwald walked down the stairs, gave him a welcome hug and guided him back to his throne.
“It’s a pleasant surprise to find you here at this time of the year”, Grindelwald said coolly. The smile seemed still a bit calculating but Graves ignored that. After all, neither of them was the reason he came here.
It was not long before he spotted Credence in the crowd. The boy was always a shadow, appeared in an eye-blink and then gone for the next few hours of the party. But Graves did not worry as he knew he would see the boy later. Since their departure after the Winter festival, Graves asked if Credence wanted to keep in touch and surprisingly he did. Then Percival showed him another form of message-delivery, not through Hermes or Iris, but could go directly to him in the Underworld. After that, the boy would write to him when he felt like to, burn it as a prayer sent to Graves and he would have it on his desk. And his reply would always find its way into Credence’s pocket when he was alone.
But in that party, Graves immediately noticed something was off. The boy was not in his usual sleeveless robe, but this time, he covered his lean arms in the long-sleeved dark blue one. He eyed him confusedly when Credence approached Grindelwald but he got no looks or answers from the boy. Graves did not push further then as Grindelwald were still throwing hungry looks at the boy. And Graves wished he could shield Credence from such filthy gaze but regretfully he was in no position to do so.
And when he finally excused himself from the hall without much difficulty (everyone was in fact happier seeing him exiting), Graves found Credence leaning against the tree by their usual lake in the forest. The boy was sleeping so Graves moved carefully next to his side without awakening him. He would like to have some rest as well because of the wine effect, but the sight in front of him was so beautiful Graves could not tear his gaze away. Even though the dark torturing scenes of the Underworld were carved onto his mind, the blurry and frowning faces of millions he came across daily, Graves still held the memories of the time he walked under the bright sunshine, among the mortal’s cities observing the ordinary citizens. But Graves could not remember having met anyone with striking features as this boy. Now even when he was sleeping, the boy’s jawline and lips were the finest work of creation. The pink rose shade on his lip reminded Graves of the pomegranate blossoming under the ground. In fact, that was the only thing from his world that could be compared to Credence. Other things else fell flat putting next to him and suddenly Graves wished he could have Credence in his hall, in the dark bed room where the wall was made from the lava rock and Credence’s pale skin would look remarkable pressing on that.
“The boy would be terrified”, Graves thought sadly. And it’s true. There was another part of Graves did not want the light Credence had now was dimmed by the darkness of his cursed Underworld.
He looked back at the lake instead. The idea formed in his head was unwelcoming. Graves was firstly only attracted to Credence’s look; but now after months exchanging messages back and forth, a clench in his heart as he felt a deeper feeling being developed. And the harder he tried abandoning that thought, the more tightly it clinged to his mind; and slowly warmed up his heart, Graves snickered at the thought. The God of Hell felt his heart coming back to live, the idea sounded even silly to him.
Suddenly Graves’ shoulder slumped down at the weight of one unruly curvy hair leaning on his. Poor boy, he did not get a good sleep last night. Graves peeked down at Credence and unconsciously he licked his lips as he gazed down at the boy’s rosy curve one.
The position got stoned over time as Graves could not feel his shoulder muscles anymore. So he got the winds to help him lifting up the boy’s body, let him lie down on the grass and his head resting on Graves’ thigh. The God of Death’s leather pants stretched dangerously, risking any possible exposure if Graves lingered longer on that thought of ravishing those lips and the white throat offering to him.
“How are you feeling now?”. Credence opened his eyes to meet a pair of dark ones watching him intently.
He sat up abruptly looking back and forth at his position, to Graves’s face and where his head was resting at the God’s thigh. He opened his mouth to apologize but Graves raised his finger stopping him in time.
“I don’t mind watching you sleep”, he spoke simply and Credence bowed in appreciation hoping to hide his flustered cheeks.
“It’s getting late, Lord Graves. I should go back to the hall”, Credence put his hand on the ground to stand up. But the sudden movement caught him off guard and he was reminded of the pain last night.
“Damn it”, he cursed retreating his hand closer to his body.
“What is it?”, Graves was sharp and he took hold of Credence’s wrist.
The two exchanged a studying look, Graves silently asking for permission, tucked Credene’s long sleeve up, revealing the deep scratches on two hands in a cuff shape.
If Credence could hear the angry growl inside Graves’s mind, he would have run away. It was the most basic grunt of a predator looking for its enemy declaring a war. Graves’s blood boiled as soon as he learnt of the wounds and he knew no other men could do this to Credence. There was only just one.
“Why did he do this to you?”, Graves’s tone was hoarse and low. The usual friendly voice used to calm Credence went missing temporarily as the anger running through his veins.
“He’d like something new. He went a bit too far”, Credence’s reply came in tiny whines and Graves now felt bad for making the boy reliving the terrible memories in his mind.
“Anywhere else? Are you hurt in other places”, he asked urgently and Credence slowly nodded, his eyes directed to his ankles.
Graves held back another murderous growl in him. His heart clenched at the sight of the slender wrists resting in his palms, on the pale skin background were countless deep scratches as if the cuffs were too tight or Credence were struggling too much. Graves used the other hand to cover the wounds, his lips mumbled the soothing words and Credence stared in awe as the open wounds started healing and the red traces disappeared.
Credence jerked back when Graves reached for his ankles. The God gave him an assuring smile and the boy wondered why God of the Underworld, the one who should be scary and ruthless, was this gentle to him. And why Grindelwald praised for his kindness and nobility was completely opposite.
“Will he come to your place tonight?”, Graves finished his healing work and moved to sit opposite to Credence.
“I don’t know”, Credence spoke shyly. He did not like telling Graves of Lord Grindelwald because a part of him feared the spark in Graves’s eyes when he heard about the man. So Credence would avoid that.
Graves ran his fingers through his short hair in frustration. Normally he would take Credence and hide him in his place, so that the boy could heal and even let no one could touch him. But even being with the boy right now was a test to his brother already and Graves knewt he could not risk everything for this desire. He would just settle down for what was given to him, time spent with the boy like this, admiring Credence’s beauty and to protect him in ways that he could.
“I have something for you”, Graves pulled out a dagger which blade was shining bright like a mirror reflecting the red shades of sunset above them.
“It’s a Katoptris. It used to belong to Helen of Troy”, Graves explained more as Credence took the dagger in his hand and examined. The holder was carved with gem stones and the blade can be used as a mirror too.
“It can be your mirror like what Helen chose to use, or your weapon of defense and occassionally”, Graves paused and gave a small smile as Credence watched him expectantly.
“A way for me to see you”, Graves reached for Credence’s face and ran his thumb carressing the pale cheeks.
Credence stared at the beautiful dagger, twisting it back and forth in his palm. It felt firm in his grab and he could swing it easily. But for what possible reasons to defend himself, he did not know. He never got a chance to beat Grindelwald’s power anyway.
“Thank you”, he finally said and Graves nodded.
“Look into the dagger, call my name and I’ll meet you”, Graves added. “Call me Percival, not Graves”.
o0o
Graves showed up again in the Mount Olympus summer party that same year and the gasps and murmur of the crowd was less annoying than last time. Maybe they got used to his presence, or maybe they learned his presence would not affect their joyful party at all. No one had to die and no sinful soul be condemned. Probably there was only Graves's soul was damned as he surrendered to his desire of meeting Credence in person. So here he was alone in his throne at Mount Olympus.
“More wine, Lord?”, the familiar tone rose beside him and Graves smiled at the cup-bearer.
"Yes please", he replied simply masking his satisfaction under the normal cold mask.
Credence was in a creamy sleeveless robe, much similar to the one he wore when they first met smiling at him happily. The boy's smile was brighter, his eyes twinkled with glee as he served Graves wine. For many months looking at the boy through the Katropis's reflection, Percival forgot how bright Credence's skin glowed under the sunlight, what a beautiful sight to behold. He moved with ease and joy as a summer breeze greeting and playing with the auras and Apollo's muses. The changes in his mood was significant and if Percival had not known him, he would assume Grindelwald was the cause of that. But the secret stayed between the two of them, the small warm fire burning in Credence, keeping him happy and known that he's loved.
An hour later he found himself wandering to the usual spot to meet Credence in the forest far from the back garden. He found the boy perching on a tree branch, eyeing the lovebirds on the nearby tree adoringly. Graves put himself next to Credence, but he did not expect it would startle him that much. Instinctively, Graves wrapped Credence by his waist to pull him close so he would not fall off. The force made the boy pressed tightly to him, chest to chest and Graves blinked as he felt the boy’s rapid heartbeat.
I missed spending time with living people was his first thought, the unfamiliar feel of the heartbeat throbbing against his own. But then the sight of Credence’s face up-close, the perfectly beautiful face that got his attention since that first meeting, was only mere-inches apart from his own. The boy’s brown eyes went from meeting his eyes, trail down the nose, to his lips and then Credence turned his head away, looking anywhere but Graves as his cheeks turned red.
And so Graves did what he had always wanted to do since he first laid eyes on Credence. The God ‘s fingers gently tilted his chin up as Credence was made to face him. Their eyes met for seconds and Graves closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Credence’s, his grasp was firm on the boy’s waist.
The boy was tense and his heartbeat had not slow down. “It’s okay. He would not know”, Graves murmured as he pulled back a bit.
Graves smiled triumphantly when Credence nodded. He leaned in again, tasting the boy’s lips, sweet and red as the pomegranate he imagined but Credence certainly tasted better. He mapped the boy’s lips with his own, their lips slowly sliding against each other. Graves’s other hand rested at the back of Credence’s head, keeping him in place as he deepened the kiss, tracing for more, asking for more. The boy’s hair was soft under his touch, his skin was smooth and perfect meeting Graves’s own. He had not been close to anyone for a long time but the sensation was welcoming, the sweet wetness as his tongue lapped at the boy’s, the way he parted his lips inviting Graves in and how their body was pressed closely against each other, too close that he could tell the change in Credence through the soft sheer robe.
They parted to catch some breath and Credence looked even more gorgeous flustered and messed up like this. Now Graves got jealous to think about this sight Grindelwald got to enjoy once in a while though he knew the God of the Sky would never appreciate it right. He had far too many gems to treat them right and his wife, Picquery, would not make it easier.
Graves flicked his fingers and they were both on the grass again.
“Let’s go”, he said urgently and before Credence made any protests, they were already in a giant white cloud floating in the air of the Olympus.
“He would not find us here”, Graves watched around the area they were hiding in, a floating private hiding place in the air, away from the Olympus and hard to detect.
He then turned back to reach for Credence and crush their lips together again.
The cup-bearer made a weak protest but it was washed away the moment he tasted Graves. When he imagined kissing the god of Death many times in his dream, it would be bitter and sour, not much different from the land he came from. But nothing prepared him for the pleasant coldness that welcomed him and Credence soon found himself melting at the touch.
Grindelwald could find him anytime, Credence feared as he knew just how jealous the God could be. But he could not walk away from this, he did not want to. He never wished to be with Grindelwald, to serve as his sex object randomly when he was bored, to be flipped onto the back or pressed against the wall anytime and to be fucked thoroughly no matter what he liked. No, what he liked did not matter to Grindelwald in comparison to his lust. The God’s intentions were clear when he took Credence to the Olympus, put a position for him by day and a different one by night to avoid the prying eyes of others.
But Credence wanted this with Graves, the unexpected gentleness and caring that was so opposite to his appearance and reputation. The letters that he wrote telling Graves of Grindelwald’s bad temper and strange form of punishment that left him in pain for days were always replied with sympathy and gifts to cheer him up. The small gestures warmed him up day by day and even now when Graves was ravishing his body, shattering the robe to one side, Credence would submit to him, cast Grindelwald aside because for the first time he wanted this love-making, and he wanted it with Graves.
Credence held back a breath as he lied naked on the soft mattress made from cloud, the fresh cool air caressing his skin. Aeolus, god of the winds, may catch them anytime, his cheeks reddened at the thought. But the sensation of Graves’s lips on his member chased away all his countless worry leaving space for him to carve every sight he saw now in his mind. So may be later when he was alone, he would replay them in his head. Graves’s dark eyes bored into his as he smirked before closing down on him, the chilling running down his spine as the God’s fingers caressed his thighs, the burn in his groin increasing after every movements Graves made.
This was not the first time he made love; but it was too different and enjoyable. Completely opposite to Grindelwald’s roughness and hasty fucking, Graves took time with his body, trailing kisses, licking and sucking, caressing. He left no inch of Credence’s skin unattended, no single place untouched. For all his time in Mount Olympus, he was used to having his body used and abused by Grindelwald; but he would never imagine to have it worshiped by the powerful and mighty Percival Graves.
He took a handful fist of cloud, held them tightly as Graves finally entered him. Credence moaned loudly at the contact, not caring to hold back himself and he met Graves’s eyes again as the God was gazing at him sharp and steady. Graves reached for a lock of hair falling across his face. “You look beautiful”, the God said smiling and Credence smiled back, leaning into the touch.
And then Graves started moving, each thrust after another sent Credence higher to the heaven he’d never been to before. It was funny how his dad would say he’s happy for Credence because he was in heaven with the Gods; but the only true place giving him unparalleled pleasure was here, in a middle of nowhere in the sky, with a God from a foreign land. And he would memorize all of this with crystal clear unfiltered details like the pressure of Graves thrusting against his body, the grunts that the god made or the sloppy kisses they shared drawing Credence out of breath and moaning for more.
“Come for me boy”, Graves’s hoarse voice pushed Credence over the edge as he obliged wrapping his body tight agains the god and screamed his name. If the whole Olympus could hear him now, Credence would not mind because he finally knew where he belong, when he felt Graves’s seeds spilling in him.
Percival’s lips found his again as they kissed lazily with more teasing before the God rolled off him. As they lied side to side panting, gazing at the sky, Credence frowned, the thought of what happened next took his mood straight down from heaven more quickly than any poison could. He avoided looking at the smiling dazed Graves; but the God was perceptive.
“What’s wrong?”, Graves asked, his arm threw over his body pulling Credence closer.
“Nothing”, he lied. And Graves’s arching eyebrows gave away of his disapproval.
“You can tell me anything. You know that, right?”, Graves whispered as he kissed Credence’s forehead, and then one more on his cheek, and let his head rest against Graves’s chest.
But Credence did not know where to start. In fact, he had no idea what to do now after their love-making ended. Grindelwald would leave right after the act and Credence would always feel the emptiest in those moments. Before he was in one’s embrace, tight possessive grip and then the minute after, he was alone holding himself together. He could never get used to that feeling, a constant reminder that he was nothing but an object for Grindelwald. And he spilled all those troubling thoughts to Percival, who kept silent the entire time, just rubbing his back and shoulders in a surprising comforting movement.
“I don't want to leave you. I never could. In fact, I wanted to keep you close to me everyday and every night.”, Graves said finally.
Credence looked at him surprised and Graves pinched the boy’s nose teasing. “Yes, every day and every night”, he confirmed.
“But that is not possible”, Credence said with a sad smile and he could feel Graves’s smile faltering as well.
“For now”, Graves said, his mind ran over different options to take Credence away from the harmful Grindelwald. It was easier now that he knew where Credence wanted to be and his brother would consider that, or at least Percival hoped so.
“He would never agree”, the boy said as if he could reading his mind.
“I’ll make him to”, Graves curled Credence’s hair around his fingers, his eyes looked in the far distance, darkened in flame as he thought about the last time he lost the sky region to Grindelwald. The vote was in and they respected that so Graves was content with his underground land. But with Credence, he would not step back, he would give the boy what he deserved, a free life as he wanted.
“I promise”, Graves said determinedly as he planted a soft kiss on Credence’s forehead.
He would work more on the plans to take Credence later; but for now, the two still could enjoy their time until the sunset, Graves smiled gleefully as Credence nuzzled closer to him. When was the last time Graves felt this completed, he had no idea. But this moment with Credence would score the first in his immortal life.