[Credence sometimes, still, struggles to sleep the full night through. If Percival or Newt are nearby, he sleeps longer, and when they are both there or he's exhausted, the nightmares don't come. When he'd first moved into Mister Graves' penthouse apartment, the older wizards had created a network of spells to cloak the house. Secured, he was able to relax, truly, for the first time in possibly his entire life. Nobody could come in unless they let them. That was enough to make him feel safe.
Tonight, though, is one like quite a few others. Both of them, his Newt and Percival, work an awful lot. Credence doesn't have to work, not ever or until he's ready, and that often leaves him alone. Normally, he doesn't mind it. There is so much he can do here, the freedoms given him are enormous and overwhelming and perfect, and if he needed someone, they'd be at his side in an instant.
But it gets later and later and neither of them come home.
He could call for Newt, but his creatures need him, too. Credence doesn't want to be selfish. Percival will come back, soon, and if he's patient enough then neither of them will ever know that he lay awake in the bed missing them so much. He falls asleep, it's only been a few minutes, and then the bed dips, scent and the shape of his body telling him who it is long before the sound of his voice does.]
Percival. [Credence rolls over and into his arms, spreading out and over the man, cheek pressed to his chest and legs tossed over his hips. He squeezes his thighs, blinks to clear his eyes.] Newt is still working.
I missed you, so much.
[He nuzzles closer, tipping his head up. Credence can almost make out the line of his jaw this way.]
no subject
Tonight, though, is one like quite a few others. Both of them, his Newt and Percival, work an awful lot. Credence doesn't have to work, not ever or until he's ready, and that often leaves him alone. Normally, he doesn't mind it. There is so much he can do here, the freedoms given him are enormous and overwhelming and perfect, and if he needed someone, they'd be at his side in an instant.
But it gets later and later and neither of them come home.
He could call for Newt, but his creatures need him, too. Credence doesn't want to be selfish. Percival will come back, soon, and if he's patient enough then neither of them will ever know that he lay awake in the bed missing them so much. He falls asleep, it's only been a few minutes, and then the bed dips, scent and the shape of his body telling him who it is long before the sound of his voice does.]
Percival. [Credence rolls over and into his arms, spreading out and over the man, cheek pressed to his chest and legs tossed over his hips. He squeezes his thighs, blinks to clear his eyes.] Newt is still working.
I missed you, so much.
[He nuzzles closer, tipping his head up. Credence can almost make out the line of his jaw this way.]