Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/9838793.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Fantastic_Beasts_and_Where_to_Find_Them_(Movies), Harry_Potter_-_J._K.
      Rowling
  Relationship:
      Credence_Barebone/Original_Percival_Graves, past_-_Relationship, Credence
      Barebone/Gellert_Grindelwald
  Character:
      Credence_Barebone, Original_Percival_Graves, Gellert_Grindelwald
  Additional Tags:
      Strippers_&_Strip_Clubs, Alternate_Universe_-_Modern_Setting, Alternate
      Universe_-_No_Powers, cop_graves, stripper_credence, Consensual_Underage
      Sex, Implied/Referenced_Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced_Child_Abuse,
      Drinking, minor_sex_slavery_references, Credence_Barebone_Gets_a_Hug,
      Police_Officer_Original_Percival_Graves, Protective_Original_Percival
      Graves, credence_crying_during_sex, graves_shushing, Blow_Jobs_in_a_Car,
      Daddy_Kink, Minor, sleazy_cop_graves_ish, Tender_Sex, Sharing_a_Bed, size
      queen_Graves, Top_Original_Percival_Graves, Bottom_Credence_Barebone, im
      a_tag_whore, No_Plot/Plotless, Plot_What_Plot/Porn_Without_Plot
  Collections:
      Anonymous_Fics
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-02-20 Words: 4953
****** Not Part of the Job Description ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Cop!Graves runs into Stripper!Credence on a routine ish sting
     operation.
Notes
     also known as the thing that i got gently bullied into writing when i
     had no plans for it at all but OK HERE WE ARE.
      
     bonus points given for:
     +underage credence
     ++accidental stripper career
     +++sleazy cop graves NOT turning down a car BJ
There was always some kind of trouble at the Blind Pig, and the force had been
ignoring it long enough. Graves was finally sent in to investigate.
Of course.
It was always him, having to go to the seediest bars and clubs. And now? It was
a strip club that catered to more than the usual fare of sleazy married men who
should know better.
He huffed out a sigh and pushed open the door, ignoring the menacing bouncer
who was probably calculating how much of a loser he was by his outfit, very
much not in uniform and barely even put together.
The music was painfully loud and there was smoke in the air, which Graves
didn’t mind so much, it was more the fact that it wasn’t just tobacco which
gave him pause, and he knew he needed a drink before he could actually start
his ‘work.’
It was unconventional sure, but it would help him get the job done, that was
all that mattered to the higher ups.
Crowding his way up to the bar, he ordered two fingers of whiskey neat, and
leaned against the counter waiting for it, glancing around at the various
performance areas and spotting the back hallway which had to lead to the main
office.
Just to the left of it was an annoyingly bright light aimed at a silver pole
which of course had a lanky and pale form gyrating around it.
But it wasn’t a woman.
===============================================================================
 
Credence was just barely getting into the warm-up for his dance, which he’d
only practiced a few times, and he could barely undo the buttons of his jacket
much less his shirt.
No one was exactly cat calling at him or demanding he start taking clothing
off, but he knew more money would likely be tossed his way if he did so.
When he swung around the pole and noticed someone staring at him, exact
features difficult to make out thanks to the light, he put on his best angelic
smile and shimmied his hips a bit, turning so his pants were tight over his
ass.
It usually worked to draw people in closer.
He started shucking off his jacket and tossed it back against the stage, and
got to work on his shirt. As he danced around, slowly starting to feel more at
ease, he noticed a few men had stepped closer, including the one from the bar
who’d been staring.
He tried to remain calm.
The man looked rather dangerous, if he was honest with himself, but not at all
like Grindelwald, not like he would hit someone before shoving them into a
wall, on a bed, or over a desk.
No, that man looked as if he had the ability to make someone do anything with
just a word, or a snap of his fingers.
Credence licked his lips and got rid of his shirt, before returning to the
pole, and stepping around it again, dipping low to grind against it, almost
touching his heels to his ass before rising back up again.
The man’s eyes never left him.
*
Watching some fragile twink perform a subpar striptease was not part of his
job, and certainly not what he was there for, but Graves found himself
distracted by him anyway.
There was little to no muscle tone on the stripper, but his body was still
alluring in its own way, the pale expanse of skin continuing to be exposed was
just begging for some scratches or bruises to add color.
Graves sighed and finished his drink, forcibly yanking his eyes away from where
the stripper was fumbling with the buttons of his rather nice pants, his long
fingers clumsy on the zipper.
He had work to do. Investigations to be completed..
Business dealings that had gone sour.
People who had started showing up dead in ditches or floating in rivers.
Graves never would have thought one small town fucking strip club owner could
be so much trouble, but there he was, ordered to confiscate books at all costs.
He stumbled towards the office and didn’t even have to pick the lock. The door
swung opened on its own, the room empty, abandoned.
Where was the bleached pineapple club owner hiding?
*
Credence tried not to flinch as Grindelwald dragged him off the stage by his
arm, none too gently, hissing that his dance was over, and it was now time for
the private show.
“You’re hurting me.” Credence couldn’t help the way his voice came out, how it
sounded like a whine, and he was an ungrateful bastard child that deserved the
dirty streets instead of the man’s bed, he knew it. He had no right to
complain.
Letting go of him, Grindelwald sighed, only to shove him to the floor of his
office, kicking the door shut behind them.
Credence wasn’t sure what would happen next. Pain was already splintering up
his wrists from where he’d caught himself, and all he could see now were
Grindelwald’s black scuffed boots, hiding steel toes.
But nothing happened, because Grindelwald was frozen, staring at something
behind his desk.
Someone, rather.
Daring to lift his head, Credence gulped, finding the handsome stranger from
the bar, the man who had been out in the club, was currently bent over and
shuffling through Grindelwald’s desk drawers.
“What the fuck is going on?”
*
“Look I don’t have the warrant on me, but, uh, there is one. We’ll mail it to
you, ok?” Graves’ heartbeat was pounding in his ears, threatening to deafen
him, but he gritted his teeth and tried to keep his face calm.
Sure, he was caught red handed, but Graves knew the asshat would go for a knife
before a gun. Grindelwald wasn’t stupid enough to kill a cop.
Graves straightened up and tucked away a sheaf of paper the second the man was
distracted by something, someone crumpled in a heap on the floor.
He remembered dimly having heard a stifled yelp upon the door slamming closed,
but he’d half considered it had been from himself.
No.
It was that little slip of nothing stripper.  Just in a skimpy black G-string
that barely covered anything of note, except his crotch. He looked more than a
little frightened.
God. He looked younger up close, without those bright lights making his skin
glow and glisten, now there was just flecks of silver glitter on his skin.
Still gorgeous and fuckable as hell.
“What’s up with this kid?” He jerked his chin at the boy, and Grindelwald just
sneered at him, yanking the boy to his feet. Graves instantly bristled, inching
out from behind the desk.
“He’s my prized talent… baby boy Barebone. Isn’t he sweet? Only does private
dances for me. Not like you could afford him on your pathetic rent a cop salary
eh?”
*
Credence flinched away as Grindelwald snagged his chin in his hand, his fingers
tight enough to bruise against his jawline, and he closed his eyes as the man
leaned close, so close he could smell the rankness of his breath, cigars, or
something stronger, acrid.
“You’re treading on thin ice, Grindelwald,” the man, who seemed to be a cop,
narrowed his eyes. “How old is he?”
Credence tried to answer, but the burn of a slap against his cheek halted his
tongue, and tears stung his eyes as he tried to break free of Grindelwald’s
grasp.
Instead of another hit, he felt the club owner retreat, and when he dared to
open his eyes, which were still blurry with tears, he saw Grindelwald crumpled
on the ground, the handsome stranger standing over him.
“Sir, what did you do?”
“Just had to put an end to that idiot’s monologuing. What does he think he is,
a James Bond villain?” The man didn’t spare a glance to the collapsed
Grindelwald, instead turning to Credence with something like sympathy, “C’mon,
let’s get out of here. How old are you?”
Credence felt like his knees might fail him.
“I’m sixteen, sir. What he said… are you really a cop?”
The man’s eyes widened, and he looked as if he might be sick,
“Sixteen? Jesus Christ. He’s got you working in a joint like this? How did that
happen?”
*
Graves was starting to regret every dirty thought he’d had about the twink in
front of him, and wondered if he shouldn’t just make for the station right now,
fuck the fact no one important enough would be there at three in the morning.
Hustling them out to the car, Graves wrapped his jacket around the boy’s
practically naked body, ignoring the glitter that would be coating the lining,
as he started telling Graves about how Grindelwald had pretended to save him
from his horrible foster home, and promised him a life of freedom and well,
what all sugar daddies seemed to tell their potential victims.
Unfortunately, Grindelwald hadn’t actually had the keys to any kingdom, except
a seedy one built on drugs, booze, and strip clubs.
‘You’re doing a good thing. The right thing.’ That was what Graves kept telling
himself. But instead of driving to the station, he turned left, and started
heading to his apartment.
Why did he do that?
“Sir… will testifying against him put me in danger? Cause I’d rather not, I’d
rather go back to him, and just try and make amends.”
Graves pulled over to the abandoned lot beside the park leading into his
neighborhood, cutting the engine and pressing the heel of his palm against his
forehead. He tried to forget he’d had a drink and shouldn’t have even been
driving, much less escorting some underage now ex stripper to his home.
“Look, there is no way I can let you do that. This dude is bad news,” Graves
heaved a sigh, looking over at the boy. “You got manipulated into a worse
situation from an already bad one… so like… this is definitely the better
option.”
“Okay. How can I thank you?” the boy asked, eyes dark and shiny with unshed
tears. “Words are never enough, that’s what he always said.”
*
Credence didn’t really wait for a reply, he knew what men liked, what men
wanted, so he reached for the man’s trousers and started undoing the snap and
pulling the zipper down. He’d just caught sight of a bit of flesh and maybe
grazed the head of the man’s cock with his fingertips when a hand like iron was
wrapping around his wrist, halting all movement.
He looked up to find the cop gaping at him, “What the fuck are you doing?”
Credence stammered, “I-I just…”
He flexed his hand, trying again, and the man let go of him, just slightly, so
he could dip his hand closer, getting an actual handful of the man’s length,
and then he was leaning in, lips poised to press against it, when he heard the
man sigh.
“But you don’t have to… okay I guess…”
Credence closed his eyes as he felt the hand that had been on his wrist move to
stroke through his hair, gentle, so gently compared to how Grindelwald usually
tugged on him ‘til his eyes watered from the pain of that and the cock down his
throat.
But the man didn’t push or rush him, he let Credence set the pace, carefully
bobbing up and down, using his tongue as best he could, until he felt the man
groan, and the fingers tightened slightly at his scalp, dragging down to grasp
at his neck, pulling him just a bit closer.
He hummed against the man, trying to take his cock as deep into his mouth as he
could, until he felt the tickle of the man’s coarse hair on his nose, and he
breathed deeply, smelling spice and soap.
“God…fuck, you’re too good at this…”
Credence couldn’t acknowledge the compliment with anything but a rougher swipe
of his tongue on the underside of the man’s cock, which made him jump slightly,
and he lifted his other hand to brace over the man’s thigh, squeezing gently to
let him know it was okay to come, whenever he wanted to.
*
Graves was overwhelmed, and feeling guilty only made him harder. Decent cops
didn’t say yes to a blowjob as a thank you, it was his job to protect and
serve.
Not protect and be served.
But… there he was, letting it happen.
He was close, so damn close, after about five minutes of the boy driving him
insane, and he wondered if the whiskey had anything to do with it, or he was
just a disgusting pervert.
Probably both.
He tried to warn the boy, fingers carded through the soft curling hairs at the
nape of his neck, urging him backwards, not because he wanted to paint the
boy’s face, as fun as that might be, but because he just didn’t want to take
advantage of…
Well fuck.
Graves threw his head back against the headrest and moaned as he could feel the
boy sucking harder, relentlessly dragging out his orgasm and swallowing down
every drop.
He should have thought about why, why the boy was so perfectly obedient and why
it was so wrong for him to use him like that, but… didn’t the boy want it just
as much as he did?
He’d almost insisted on it.
The boy sat up and delicately wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, smiling
sweetly as he sat back in his seat, still wearing Graves’ jacket loosely around
his shoulders, leaving Graves to redo his pants up and try to catch his breath.
*
Credence hoped the man wasn’t angry or disappointed with his technique. He had
come after all, and he hadn’t been very quiet either. That was usually a good
sign. But the rest of the trip in the car was deadly silent. He wondered if the
man would use his belt on him. The buckle was round and looked heavy. It would
probably hurt more than a fist or even a steel toed boot.
The man escorted him inside the building with a firm and urgent hand at the
small of his back, and once the door was shut, Credence looked around the
apartment, trying to spot the bedroom. It would be best to get it over with as
soon as possible, so he could hope to get some sleep.
Even if he had to sleep on the floor, he didn’t mind. The floor was better than
the usual stripper cage he was put into overnight.
“Thank you for this.” He tried to inject as much sincerity into his words as
possible, and widened his eyes, pleading for leniency. He slipped the oversized
jacket off his shoulders, handing it back to the man. He gulped when he saw how
much glitter was left on it, and knew there was only one thing to do.
Credence beelined for the bedroom after that, and fell to his knees beside the
end of the bed, hands gripping the wood frame so hard his knuckles turned
white.
“Um… what are you doing?”
The man’s voice was cautious, and Credence looked over at him, tilting his head
so that his hair tickled his shoulder,
“I thought, you’d want to punish me, for being so disobedient in the car, for
ruining your jacket…”
The man brought a hand to his forehead, “Kid… I let it happen. I didn’t really
stop you because I didn’t want to. That’s not your fault. It’s mine. Besides, a
bit of glitter never hurt anyone… right?”
*
“Please, daddy,” the boy practically begged. “You can hurt me.”
Graves tried to ignore just how good of a suggestion that was, spoken like the
boy actually wanted him to, and he put his hands on his hips,
“Look, this is just temporary. You can stay with me until we actually arrange a
trial or whatever… I’m not about to throw you back in the system and let
another jerk like Grindelwald come along promising you the world.”
‘I’m just going to keep you for myself.’ He didn’t add.
He definitely needed another drink.
“I’m also not going to call you baby boy, what’s your real name, kid?”
The boy licked his lips and shrugged,
“You can call me whatever you want… daddy.”
“Okay, stop that. It’s Officer Graves… or sir is okay, I guess, if that’s too
much. Now, Grindelwald said something about ‘Barebone,’ is that your legal
name? It can’t be your first name… is it your last name?”
The boy blinked, and then leaned closer to the bedframe to rest his cheek
against the hard unforgiving wood,
“I don’t remember… sir.”
Graves cocked a brow at him, just barely keeping his eyes from gazing down the
line of his bare back to his exposed ass.
“Are you lying to me?”
The boy’s eyes widened, “No sir, never. But I have a bad memory, except for
orders to follow, and dances to perform.”
“Right. Okay. So if I order you to go clean yourself up and get some rest,
you’ll do it then?”
The boy frowned slightly, “You don’t want me to do anything for you?”
*
It had to be some kind of elaborate ruse. The police officer wouldn’t really
help him just like that. After all, Mary Lou and then Grindelwald had told him
many times the law men were the enemy, and could only lead to ruin and
destruction.
“You’ve done quite enough. Go on. Go take a shower. Then sleep. I’ll take the
couch. It’s almost fucking four in the morning.”
Credence shook his head, standing up, rushing at the man only to fall down at
his feet, “You can’t! I should sleep on the couch, or the floor… I can’t push
you out of your own bed.”
There was a hand on his head, fingers in his hair, and Credence bit his lip,
trying not to flinch away or lean close, knowing how fast the touch could
become threatening.
“You can, and you will sleep in the bed. If you really want, I can stay. But
you’re not going to sleep on the floor. Come on, up you get.”
The hand slid under his chin, and gently guided him back to his feet, and
Credence felt extremely exposed, never mind how many strangers saw him on a
regular basis in that amount of clothing or less.
“Thank you… sir.”
“Shh-hh, it’s okay.”
The next thing he knew, strong arms were pulling him into the man’s chest,
holding him close, but not painfully so.
The man was hugging him, and he tucked his chin over the broad shoulder nearest
his cheek, enjoying it as long as he could.
*
Graves went out to the kitchen, to make himself a drink and also be as far away
as possible from the stripper currently using his shower.
It would be best if he could just pass out and wake up in the morning, drive to
work, and find some way to forget any of the night’s events had ever happened.
Beyond the fact that he had reassured the boy that he was welcome to stay with
him.
That had been a mistake, but he wasn’t taking it back.
By the time the water had shut off and Graves had finished his drink,
staggering back into his bedroom to shift out of his jacket and at least
attempt to get something comfortable on, he noticed the boy was already in the
bed, curled up to one side, huddling under one sheet, and not using the
blanket.
“Aren’t you cold?”
The boy shook his head but seemed to perk up at the sight of him,
“I’m not sir, but if you are I could help?”
Graves sighed, and finished shucking off his shirt and pants, leaving just his
grey boxers on, along with his socks, before climbing into the bed, pointedly
getting under the sheets and blankets, and rolling to his side to face the boy.
“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. I don’t know what sort of…
thing, you had with Grindelwald, but-”
A finger pressed to his lips and halted his somewhat grandiose speech, as the
boy shifted closer, and grasped a hand over his shoulder, moving him back so
that he was on top, just the sheet between them.
“I want to be good for you. Will you ‘let’ me?”
Thin bony hips straddled his thighs, and he realized with a start the boy
hadn’t bothered putting his pathetic excuse for clothing back on, so there he
was, completely naked, smelling like Graves’ shampoo and cologne, the minx,
perched over him, staring at him like he’d hung the moon.
Graves didn’t stutter.
Until that moment.
*
Credence ground his hips down onto Mr Graves’, feeling how he was already
hardening again, and he bit his lip to keep from whimpering as he felt hands
sliding up to grasp his waist.
“Oka-y-y-y, why don’t you let me take care of you? That would be good… fair…
right?”
Credence blinked, and then stopped moving, glancing down to find Mr Graves
eyeing him.
“You want to touch me?”
Mr Graves nodded, and brought a hand to cup at Credence’s cock, which had been
hard since the wonderful warmth of the shower, though he hadn’t touched
himself, he couldn’t, so he’d merely tried to ignore it.
“Oh-h-h…”
A gasp escaped him unbidden when the man pressed closer, curling his fingers
around the length of his cock, with the fabric of the sheets providing a
delicious friction.
“You’re so hard…”
“Ungh, yes, daddy please let me come…”
Mr Graves inhaled sharply, but didn’t stop, merely paused to flip him onto his
back, and Credence almost gasped again when the hand over him shifted to pull
down the sheets, revealing his aching cock to the man’s eyes.
“Holy… damn okay I did not think this through…”
Credence was a bit worried, only until Mr Graves started stroking over him
again, and leaned in to place a biting kiss on his hipbone, making him jump and
arch his back. “What… what are you doing?”
“I’m not very good at this honestly, no where near the talent you have, but,
I’ll do my best.”
Credence cried out before he could stop himself when the man’s mouth finally
met his cock, tongue dragging over the length of it and stopping only to lave
over the swollen head. His hands were fisting in the sheets to keep from
ruining the man’s hair, lest he be reprimanded for that, even if he didn’t seem
to be keen on punishments.
He’d been in near constant self denial when working or not sleeping, and for
all the kindness the man had shown him, he knew he wouldn’t be able to last
very long. He prayed and hoped he could push him off and maybe run for the
bathroom to finish himself, since it would probably be allowed, but his orgasm
nearly took him by surprise.
*
Graves was pulling back to focus his lips and tongue on the head of the boy’s
frankly enormous cock, but any teasing words he might have given him for
reassurance died in his throat as he felt hot spurts of come splash over his
lips and slide down his chin, slicking his hands and messing the boy’s thighs
as well.
“Oh god… I’m so sorry sir… I couldn’t stop myself in time.”
“That’s quite all right, I just wasn’t ready, my mouth isn’t that big you
know…”
Graves couldn’t hold back a chuckle, considering how bright pink the boy’s
cheeks were, as he brought a hand to his face, wiping off as much of the
slippery mess as he could, and then daringly licking a bit off the back of his
hand.
“I’ll do better next time.”
He winked at the boy, who seemed to melt back into the sheets, utterly spent
and relaxed.
“No, I’ll do better next time sir.”
The boy mumbled slightly, face turned away, cheeks still red, as if he was
trying to hide.
“Don’t apologize. You look very cute like this. All blushes and shimmering like
a fallen angel. Where did this glitter come from, it didn’t all wash off?”
“I couldn’t get all of it out of my hair I guess… I’m sorry sir.”
“Stop that. I tell you what… you can make it up to me.”
“How sir?”
Graves sighed, and then moved up to hover over the boy directly, staring down
at him, and reaching to stroke a hand through hair, flecked with bits of
silver.
“Would you let me fuck you?”
The boy’s eyes widened, and when Graves leaned down to press a kiss to his
lips, he heard a whispered,
“Please… be gentle.”
*
Credence’s body still felt heavy, and he knew it was the combination of
exhaustion and pent up frustration having been released, but he couldn’t help
begging for what he didn’t deserve.
A hard and fast fucking was all he’d ever known, and he hoped that maybe it
would be different with the policeman.
Certainly, there was an element of tenderness to the kissing, which he’d not
expected at all. Then the man moved away from him, to fumble in the drawer of a
bedside cabinet, before returning, kissing him swiftly, and then trailing his
lips down Credence’s jawline and neck, nipping at a spot which made him squirm.
“No one ever did this for you?”
Credence could only shake his head, even as Mr Graves’ hand dropped back to
graze past his still softened cock, and below to caress his balls, before he
leaned back, kneeling between his legs, applying something to his fingers.
“Well this shouldn’t hurt, but tell me if it does, okay?”
Credence nodded, but he wouldn’t speak, even if it did. He’d been trained
better than that.
The first press of a cold digit into his hole was slow, careful, and didn’t
cause even a bit of pain, but of course, nothing was worse than when he’d
merely been spit on after being thrown onto a desk and told to spread his legs.
Another finger was added and Credence felt both of them brush against something
inside of him that made him see sparks for a moment, before he realized he was
panting.
“Does that feel good?”
Mr Graves was hovering closer, lips poised at his neck below his ear, and
Credence could only nod, slack jawed.
“One more, then you’ll be ready for me okay?”
“Yes… please.”
Credence found himself begging for it, and the man chuckled, a soothing
gravelly tone, almost comforting to him, as two fingers became three, he was
shifting against the man, trying to seek out more friction, wondering how to
beg for Mr Graves to touch his cock.
*
Graves got lost staring at the boy as he withdrew his hand and prepped his
cock, slicking himself up until he couldn’t stand it a moment longer and was
dying to be inside the tight hot heat of him.
He pressed the head of his cock to the boy’s hole and lowered a hand to stroke
over the boy’s own cock, which he suspected he’d not even realized was hard
again.
“God you feel so good… I’m not going to last.”
Along with the fact it was past five in the morning, and he had already decided
fuck the paperwork, he’d go in after lunch.
“Please, more.”
Sex wasn’t usually like that for him, not some kind of worshipful event, but
for the sake of the boy, Graves needed almost desperately to prove to him that
it was meant to be good for both sides, and he hoped he was doing an okay job.
When he was fully inside the boy, he fought to control his breathing, braced
himself against the mattress and pressed a fervent kiss to the boy’s forehead,
feeling every inch and shift of movement as he moved.
It was the sweetest torture, pulling back and pushing back in, and it was
already almost too much.
A hand was touching his shoulder, sliding up to stroke his face, and Graves
opened his eyes to find the boy looking up at him with tears in his own.
“What’s wrong baby?”
“I just… I want you to say my name when you come.”
“I thought…”
“I didn’t want to tell you… I didn’t trust you yet. But I do now. It’s
Credence. My name, is Credence.”
Graves blinked, and turned his head to kiss the center of the boy, no,
Credence’s palm,
“Thank you.”
*
Credence could barely breathe, drowning in sensations, not a hint of agony or
pain, only pleasure, and he could see it on the man’s face when he came, even
if his voice was a rasped whisper, he still recognized his name.
“I want to stay with you. Can I? Please?”
The man sighed, and collapsed onto his back on the bed, chest heaving,
“Of course. You’re so welcome here.”
Credence shivered slightly, feeling as the man’s come started to slide out of
him, and it seemed to get his attention.
“Fuck, sorry. I haven’t uh, well, hang on.”
The man was back within moments with a damp washcloth, and he cleaned Credence
up, even the mess he’d made of himself when he’d spilled onto his chest, and
afterwards, he was tucked into the sheets and blankets.
The tears stinging his eyes were a rare sensation, tears of gratitude, even
joy. Officer Graves, as he knew he really should address him, didn’t seem to
understand, and he hugged him again, for so long, until he realized the man had
fallen asleep, an arm still around his waist.
Credence drifted off like that, and he’d never felt so safe.
===============================================================================
 
end
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