Welcome to der rewrite, ja. It took a long time, I know. But Harukami and I started writing "Raphael-sama" and "Mikael" as mirror-fics, so we wanted to post them together. After all, we started out on notebooks, sitting side-by-side - so this is fitting.
A reminder that Raphael, Mikael, and Noelle aren't ours. But everything else is!
It was Monday morning, and Raphael had one hell of a horrible hangover.
He really shouldn't have had quite so much to drink. But he had been at the Metatron's Palace, sipping champagne and sampling chilled fruit, chatting companionably with the Voice of Most Holy, and then the next thing he knew, he'd had one glass too many. It probably was an act of God that he was even here this morning.
Someone knocked on the door and Raphael clutched at his head. It seemed so bloody loud this morning. "It's open!" he called, massaging his temples in a fruitless attempt to dull his pounding headache.
The door opened to reveal an angel he had seen very few times. "Good afternoon, Professor," Sandalphon said quietly. "If I might have a moment of your time?"
I'd rather dunk my head in a tub of ice cold water if it's all the same to you, Raphael thought sourly. He eased out of his chair to clear off a seat for Sandalphon, depositing a pile of clutter atop a different pile of clutter. "Have a seat."
Sandalphon did, and arranged his muted robes carefully before speaking. "You are aware, Professor, that I am tutoring an angel student?"
Well, duh. I spent last night with your twin, which means both you and Uriel were the prime topics of conversation. But you wouldn't know that, because when was the last time you stopped by the Palace for a cup of tea and a chat? "Please, call me Raphael. And yes, I am. What can I do for you?"
Sandalphon's face was careful, composed. "My student wishes to finish his last year here at the Angel School." And you don't like that, Raphael reasoned out inside, tapping his fingers against his desk. Not that you'd ever say so. "What brought this on?"
Sandalphon's lips thinned. Ah-ha, Raphael thought. You definitely don't like this - not one tiny bit. "This is his wish. I think it is an unwise idea - he's been completely isolated his whole life, and he's completely unprepared for the School. However..." Sandalphon trailed off, his expression guarded.
"However?" Raphael echoed, waiting for the catch.
The twins couldn't be more different in appearance and mannerisms. Sandalphon was quiet, serious, and thought things through to a degree that was often startling. "I will allow it on one condition. Mikael needs more individual attention than he can get as a member of a class. Therefore, if you will agree to mentor him, I will release him to the School."
Raphael looked up into the unsettling glints of Sandalphon's copper eyes, resisting the urge to scrub at his own in his exhaustion. "I have no problem with that. I'm sure I could talk one of the other teachers into tutoring him."
"No," Sandalphon said evenly. "It has to be you or I won't permit it."
Raphael frowned. His duties as Professor kept him quite busy, but he was intrigued by this special case. Anyone who wanted to go to the School badly enough to force the issue with Sandalphon needed all the help they could get. "Alright. I'll mentor him. He can move in with me this weekend."
Sandalphon gave him a measured look of disapproval. "I think that would be too much for him. He's used to being alone."
And whose fault is that, Raphael wondered before heaving a sigh. "You're being awfully picky about this whole thing," he complained. "I'll see what I can arrange with Ardouisur - I know her guest apartment is empty right now."
"That would be suitable," Sandalphon said, sounding satisfied at last.
Raphael stood, and offered the other angel his hand because it seemed the proper thing to do. "Then I will see him at the beginning of the term,"
he said, shaking Sandalphon's hand firmly, and the Metatron's twin left him in hungover peace.
Raphael needed aspirin or a lobotomy. He wasn't sure that it mattered which.
Raphael hesitantly made his way through Ardouisur's garden, the scent of daffodils and tulips making the air fragrant. Pansies and roses decorated the landscape and Raphael felt like an intruder in a sea of loveliness.
He felt like an intruder, period - it had been so long since he had lain in the flowerbeds with Ardouisur. He looked around, trying to spot one of the more enigmatic angels in Heaven.
Ah. There she was. A female angel in a gossamer gown knelt besides a bed of lilies, carefully cutting a few and placing them in the basket beside her. He walked up slowly behind her and then bent to embrace her from behind. "Guess who," he murmured.
"I never guess. You're late, anyway," she said, her voice musical, before pouncing on him and knocking him flat on his back.
"Um, Ari, can we talk for a minute? I have a favor to ask, and I - " She silenced him with a kiss and by Most Holy, she was warm and soft and curvy, and he'd forgotten what an addiction she was. Ardouisur was the angel of new mothers and infants, specializing in helping women survive childbirth as well as helping them get pregnant in the first place. Granted, she had a pretty unusual and unorthodox method as to the last, but despite its bizarreness, she never suffered more than the usual collection of tall tales that went with most of the older angels.
You had to admire a woman who would jump the nearest man in order to answer the prayers of an infertile human.
Some time later, they both redressed themselves and Ari invited him in for tea. When she was answering prayers, she was never much for cuddling. She seemed to view it very distinctly as business and not pleasure. Their little episode among the lilies had been business, but a long time ago it had been pleasure as well. Things change. Ari had understood.
She handed him a delicate teacup, and Raphael thought he recognized the painted flowers on it as the work of Suriel. Beautiful inside and out, everything Suriel touched seemed to reflect himself. "You wanted to ask of me a favor?" she asked without preamble.
Raphael took as small sip of the scalding tea before setting his cup down. "As a matter of fact, I do. Sandalphon has asked me to mentor a student he's been privately tutoring, and the boy needs a place to stay."
Ardouisur narrowed her dark violet eyes. "Why isn't he staying with you?"
Raphael wrinkled his nose. "It seems Mikael has been awfully...isolated. Sandalphon seems to think it would be better for him to have a sanctuary...you know, somewhere to retreat to at the end of the day."
She sipped her tea thoughtfully. "Not because Sandalphon thinks you can't keep your hands to yourself?"
"Ari!" Raphael exclaimed, genuinely offended. "Mikael is a my student."
She looked a little contrite. "Sorry, just checking. Considering how much time you spend with the Metatron, it wouldn't be surprising if Sandalphon thought you just as frivolous."
Raphael huffed and bit into a biscuit vengefully. "There's a difference between frivolity and plain immorality."
Ari leaned forward and patted his hand. "I know, dear. I think the apartment out in the lilies will do nicely, don't you? And try the raspberry tart, it's from Suriel..."
"Would Mikael care to report to the Professor's office? That's Mi-ka-e-l, Mikael," Raphael called over the loudspeaker. It was the first day of the new term and he wanted to meet the student he would be mentoring before their class together.
He shuffled through some papers on his desk, looking in vain for something Gabriel had wanted completed by this afternoon, except he had no idea where the elusive paperwork had gotten to.
"This place...is an absolute freaking pit," he announced to no one in particular. With all the stacks of paper, it was no wonder he couldn't find a damn thing. And when he cleaned, he couldn't find anything either. He sighed. Can't win.
He wanted a particular passage out of The Principia Discordia for his class this afternoon, but he had to find it first. After much hunting, he discovered it on the very top shelf. Why it was there wasn't quite clear, but maybe he had thought it funny to put it out of alphabetical order and out of reach after reading it. That sounded like something he would do. Maybe if he stood on his chair, he could reach it.
Not quite. He planted a foot on his desk, trying to get a little more height. He used his wing as counterbalance and his fingers were just centimeters away...
"Ano?" came a timid voice and the sound of the door clicking shut.
Raphael whipped his head around to see an aqua-haired boy. "Ah, you must be—" he started, and then he yelped as the chair rolled out from underneath him, sending himself and a pile of books to the floor with a noisy thump. He swore inwardly as he picked himself up, and walked around the desk to meet his new student.
The boy's eyes were screwed shut. Raphael took the liberty of removing the open book from his student's head and slowly those eyes opened. They were a nice gold color, Raphael noted absently. His student was staring straight at his chest, not even making eye contact. Cripes. Knowing Sandalphon, this boy was probably very sheltered.
And he really had a most becoming blush. "You okay?" Raphael asked kindly, smiling in welcome. Just his luck that his office imploded on the kid's first visit. "That was a bit of a mess, but that's just the way things are around here at times." He paused, gauging his student's response, or in this case, lack thereof. "So, what can I do for you?"
The boy tensed up and pasted a small, polite smile on his face. They were going to have to work on that. "My name's Mikael. I was called to meet the Professor." Mikael spoke very politely, a linguistic copy of Sandalphon.
Raphael hummed to himself and stepped back to perch on the edge of his desk. "So you're Mikael," he said, mostly to himself.
Mikael was still staring at him. Raphael briefly wondered what was so entrancing. Admittedly, he wasn't as muscular as some of the soldiers, but he still worked out with Azrael regularly. He resisted the impulse to suck in his tummy.
Mikael snapped out of whatever trip he'd been on. "Um, I beg your pardon?" he asked, his voice cracking. Poor boy. Puberty in heaven wasn't any better than its earthly equivalent.
Raphael rolled his eyes in amusement. "So you're Mikael," he repeated. "I'm the Professor, actually."
Mikael blinked in apparent disbelief. "Um. Excuse me?"
"I'm the Professor. But please, call me Raphael, since we're going to know each other so well," he said warmly, determined to start out on the right foot.
"What? I..." Mikael trailed off. He was looking a little pale, Raphael noted with concern. Maybe the boy was ill. Or maybe Sandalphon had just neglected to give him any pertinent information in retaliation for wanting to attend School.
"Aa. I'm your mentor. Didn't Sandalphon even tell you-- oh." The boy was definitely looking faint. Too many shocks in one day, he supposed. "Ah. Have a seat, Mikael."
Mikael murmured an agreement and sat, folding his hands in his lap. Actually, the primness was sort of charming. Then Mikael's head snapped up. "You. You wrote the Student Handbook."
Raphael wondered where the boy had gotten a hold of one. Probably smuggled it into Sandalphon's house. "I did, didn't I?" he said. "That was a long time ago." A very long time ago, indeed. Back when he Talked to Most Holy about the need for a School to train all the angel candidates.
Mikael mumbled and blushed again. Really, quite charming. Raphael advanced and held out his hand, saying, "Well. It's been a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mikael, whether or not you'd known I'd be your mentor." He clasped Mikael's hand in his own, determined to hold on until the boy smiled back – a real smile, this time.
Mikael said, "Pleased to meet you," before promptly fainting in his arms.
Oh dear. Raphael scooped up the boy and settled him on the couch, retrieving a damp washcloth to place on Mikael's forehead. Definitely out cold. The poor thing probably had more excitement today than in his sixteen years of life.
Great. His student had passed out, and he still couldn't find Gabriel's paperwork. He was going to actually have to clean. Bother.
Sometime later, Mikael's eyelids fluttered open and he started to sit up. "Ah, ah, don't sit up too fast," Raphael warned.
Mikael removed the washcloth, and blushed furiously. "I'm sorry to be a nuisance," he murmured. "I-- fainted, didn't I?"
"Aa," Raphael said warmly. "But just look at your day. I think you had good reason to. Now, can you stand? Ari'll have my head if I keep you out past curfew." As she had reminded him about ten times in the past week.
Mikael nodded, rose slowly. "I feel fine now. I'm sorry, Raphael-sama."
As if it were the boy's fault! "You don't need to be sorry," Raphael said softly, gently. "I'll see you tomorrow morning, na?"
Mikael's eyes widened. "Yes," he replied, giving Raphael a small, shy smile that transformed him utterly.
Charming, indeed.
Raphael sat down on the window seat and patted the space next to him. "Have a seat, Mikael," he invited, rolling the fluid sounds of his student's name.
Mikael stepped forward, a little uncertain in the new environment of Raphael's house. Raphael was willing to bet that Mikael was wishing for something familiar to cling to - anything at all.
Raphael brushed his fingers over the strings of his burnished and well-loved guitar. "Ne, Mikael - what do you do for fun?" He had his doubts on Sandalphon's knowledge of the concept.
Mikael sat down next to him, his attention riveted on Raphael's guitar. Pale, slender fingers wound through aqua bangs. "Gymnastics...reading. I play the piano a little."
Raphael smiled warmly. "So you know a little about music. Ever played the guitar before?" he asked, noting Mikael's obvious interest.
Mikael shook his head, and Raphael scooted over so that their hips and thighs were pressed together. "Here," Raphael said, handing over the guitar. "Put your left hand here," - he covered Mikael's hand with his own and moved it to the neck of the guitar - "And rest your right hand here," he continued, moving Mikael's hand to the guitar body.
Mikael was blushing bright under the cover of his bangs, and Raphael realized that, most likely, no one had ever been this close. How sad, Raphael thought. Is it too late to show you how nice it is to touch someone else? He had his arm around the boy and his hands atop Mikael's. "Go ahead," Raphael urged. "Give it a try." Sandalphon might believe in decorum and a stiff upper lip, but Raphael was of the opinion that everyone could use a little personal contact.
Mikael strummed the guitar hesitantly. "What do I do with the strings?" he asked after a moment.
Raphael smiled at his student's curiosity. "You can change chords like this," he said, closing Mikael's fingers down over a beginning chord. "Hear the difference?"
Mikael was entranced - so much so, that he seemed to have forgotten their position. Then, all of a sudden, Mikael stiffened, and Raphael allowed himself a small sigh. "No, no, you can't play if you don't relax." He scooted even closer so that Mikael was practically in his lap, and heard his student's squeak of surprise. "Okay. Deep breath, relax," he crooned softly. Slowly, Mikael obeyed, melting into his arms like warmed honey.
The warmth was nice. It was just plain good to feel another person against you, to feel the steady rhythm of their heart. Most of Mikael's lessons, Raphael knew, wouldn't come out of a book. The boy's blushing determination was also quite attractive. Raphael taught him some basic chords, which Mikael had a good firm grasp on by the end of the evening.
Raphael noticed the time with a little surprised. "My - it's late, isn't it?"
Mikael looked at the clock in panic. "I'm sorry to have taken up so much of your evening, Raphael-sama. I know you must have work to do, I didn't notice at all - "
"I had fun," Raphael said, interrupting him and daring to hug him quickly, guitar and all.
Mikael looked at his shoes, his cheeks flushing a pale rose. "I...yes. Yes, I did."
Raphael nodded approvingly. "Well, you know, practice makes perfect. How about we have dinner tomorrow here and we can continue your lessons?" Raphael asked.
Mikael looked over his shoulder with a sharp indrawn breath. "If...if that's okay. I don't want to be a bother."
"No bother at all," Raphael said firmly. Whoever taught you that you were, he wondered with a little anger. "I want for us to be friends, Mikael," he continued.
He would have had to been impossibly blind to miss the widening of Mikael's eyes, like limpid pools of melting gold.
Raphael carefully lit the last of the candles, which bathed his living room in a soft golden light. It was just perfect.
The doorbell rang right on time. "Evening," Raphael greeted Mikael cheerfully. Mikael smiled shyly and held out a paper bag.
"I mentioned to Ardouisur that we were having lasagna tonight, and she gave this to me to bring," Mikael said by way of explanation. It was now two months into the term, and Raphael invited Mikael over for dinner on the nights when he wasn't busy doing things for the School.
Raphael opened the bag and sniffed appreciatively, retaining a light grip on Mikael's wrists as he did so. "Mmm. I know what this is. Her Italian bread tastes even better than it smells. Come on in, Mikael."
Mikael toed off his shoes just inside the door, which reminded Raphael strongly of his Renaissance in Japan. The boy really was adorable, padding over to the kitchen in his stocking feet in with such an earnest expression on his face.
They ate dinner at a leisurely pace, and Raphael tried to draw Mikael out with questions about school. "So how do you like Cassiel's class?"
Mikael swallowed a mouthful of food hastily in his enthusiasm. "It's wonderful. He talked about Hadrian's Wall in England, and..." Mikael actually prattled on for several minutes, presumably about Cassiel's class, and Raphael sat and watched him, his chin resting on an open palm.
Kawaii, Raphael thought dreamily.
Mikael stopped talking quite suddenly. "I'm sorry, I must be boring you."
"Not at all," Raphael assured him, holding those golden eyes with his own.
After dinner, Raphael ushered Mikael in to the candlelit living room. Mikael found his way to their usual spot on the window seat. "Ano...Raphael-sama?"
"Aa?" Raphael said, collecting his guitar from its stand and joining Mikael.
Mikael looked around the room. "Why the candles?"
Because they remind me of your eyes, Raphael thought about saying. "You need to learn to play by touch as well as by sight. Dim lighting will help you learn to play not by eye, but by ear." He touched the pale pink curve of Mikael's ear with one fingertip, and felt his student shiver against him.
I want him, Raphael realized. Out loud, he said, "Play the chords I taught you last time." His fingers were still lightly placed over Mikael's, correcting when memory faltered.
In the near dark, Raphael talked quietly of music theory and thought about wanting someone, really wanting someone again.
"Raphael-sama?" Mikael questioned softly.
The candles had burned down. Raphael shook himself from his reverie. "Where does the time go?" Raphael asked, more of himself than Mikael. He rose and flipped on the light switch. Mikael winced from the light and set the guitar aside, and Raphael saw a flash of red against pale fingers.
"Mikael, let me see your hands," he instructed.
Mikael looked puzzled for a moment, but obediently held out his hands. As Raphael had expected, Mikael's fingertips were raw and blistered in some places. Wordlessly, Raphael led him to the washroom and rinsed Mikael's hands in cool water, wincing in sympathy. Mikael was so young. Just sixteen years old, for heaven's sake. What was he doing, driving himself crazy over a child? Mikael hissed in pain as Raphael bandaged his hands. "I'm sorry," Raphael said softly, meaning it. "I wish it didn't hurt."
Mikael watched him, and Raphael noticed with faint pleasure that Mikael was not, in fact, insensitive to this unexpected desire. But did he want it?
"If you really want something, is it worth it?"
Raphael tried to contain his shock. Did Mikael just ask... "Excuse me?"
"If you really want something, is the pain worth it?" Mikael restated.
Still a loaded question. And he had one in return – does wanting your student make you an immoral, corrupt person? What if...they wanted you too? Was it quite so wrong then? Was it wrong at all? "Sometimes."
Mikael was beginning to catch on. The narrowed golden eyes had held suspicion for weeks, but it was only today, as Raphael led the class in a merry rendition of "Allouette" that the suspicion hardened into certainty. Raphael dismissed class and turned to half-heartedly wipe the chalking of the French lyrics off the board, waiting and then hearing those precise footsteps reaching the front of the classroom.
"Raphael-sama."
The Professor fought down a silly grin and continued to nonchalantly clean the board. "Aa," he murmured, not turning around.
"Raphael-sama, may I ask the purpose of today's lesson?" Mikael asked politely, though Raphael thought the boy's teeth must be clenched from the tightness of his voice.
Raphael finally turned. "The purpose of today's lesson is the same as the purpose of all lessons in this class."
Oh, but Mikael was shaking, with confusion and anger and most likely a myriad of other emotions. He was really just too adorable with those pouting lips and those flashing golden eyes. Raphael watched his student bring himself under control before saying, "It doesn't make any sense to me, Raphael-sama. I apologize for my stupidity." The aqua head was bowed, and the shoulders were slumped in resignation.
Raphael reached out and tipped Mikael's chin up with a knuckle. "Which is why you're so smart," he said softly, hating to hear such self-deprecation from his student. Golden eyes blinked in confusion. They were warm and striking like dancing lamplight, and simply breathtaking.
Mikael's back was to the desk, so he had nowhere to go and had no choice but to endure Raphael's proximity. If he was panicking or anxious, he concealed it well. "If you become an angel, you won't have all the answers," Raphael began, his hand dropping from Mikael's chin to his shoulder, his touch lingering. "Sometimes you'll be given assignments you won't understand at all, but your obedience is what counts, not your comprehension of the meaning behind. The simplest, ultimate purpose of an angel is to do the will of Most Holy, not to question it. So you have to learn to take the nonsensical in stride, and to learn when it's important to understand and when it's better that you not know at all."
Mikael's brow furrowed as he mulled that over. "Can you give me an example, Raphael- sama?"
Raphael smiled brightly. "Indeed," he said cheerfully, and leaned forward to brush his lips against the softness of Mikael's cheek. "Now, what was that?"
Mikael was wide-eyed with shock. "Nonsensical?"
Raphael nodded in approval. And having had one teasing taste, he knew he wanted more. So this was perfect - if Mikael welcomed him, so much the better. If not, he could safely dismiss it as an object lesson, without making his student overly uncomfortable. So Raphael leaned down again, angling his head to capture Mikael's lips in gentle kiss. And while he had meant for it to be short, sweet, and to the point, it became readily apparent that he wasn't the only one with some less-than-professional intentions.
Mikael's hands were fisted in the material of his jacket, probably unconsciously, preventing him from moving away.
Raphael opened his eyes to see that Mikael was blushing, as he thought the boy would be, but there was a startled comprehension in those golden eyes.
"So which was that?" Mikael asked in barely a whisper.
Raphael swallowed slowly. "This one...it's important that you understand. I...care for you a great deal, Mikael. I want to...but only if you want to, you don't have to - "
He trailed off and stole another kiss before gently detaching from Mikael. "Think about it."
It was a lazy Saturday afternoon, and Raphael was puttering around his workroom, hanging up herbs to dry. In the living room, he could hear Mikael going through some finger exercises on the electric guitar. He hummed absently to himself as he began to grind together the ingredients for an analgesic ointment.
He was still humming a few moments later when he realized that Mikael had shifted from warm-ups to a song. A song Raphael had never taught him, and that he couldn't have found, since the only copy of the song was in the possession of...Ardouisur. He had given it to her as a parting gift, a plea to remain friends.
The song really didn't have a name. He had written it after the bitterness of Belial's betrayal, and after he and Ari had found temporary solace in each other's arms before moving on.
It was a song of loneliness, of grief for love lost. And it tugged sharply on Raphael's heart. He paused in the doorway to the living room, his heart aching to remember that dreadful time anew.
Then something remarkable happened. Mikael shifted key, and sped up the melody from the mournful adagio to a sprightly allegro, and the guitar sang sweet and song underneath his fingers, straight to Raphael's heart.
Is it okay to love you so much?
Raphael was close to Mikael on the window seat, keeping a eye on Mikael's fingering while half-heartedly working on his laptop. He was trying to bullshit his way out of an expense report when he shivered suddenly. He blinked and thought he must have imagined it. But there it was again, a ghostly touch down the side of his neck. He shot a look at Mikael, but the boy appeared to be faithfully working away at a new song, with the usual stumbling that new material brings. Raphael scratched his head, shrugged, and resolutely turned back to the report. Until he felt another there-but-not-there touch, glossing over his chest. And then it hit him.
It really was Mikael. It would have been funny, except that the boy would have been humiliated if he had said so. His telepathic abilities must have started to kick in...and unconsciously, Mikael was projecting his curiosity so strongly that it was manifesting in phantom touch.
Sometimes Raphael thought before he acted, and sometimes he just did things. So he kissed Mikael. No short peck on the cheek...he pathed Mikael a leisurely meeting of lips, sensations of velvet, sweet like mandarin oranges.
Mikael looked up in shock. His fingers stuttered to a halt on the guitar,
and a blush rose in his cheeks. It's not a difficult thing Raphael thought. You can project words and images in addition to touch.
Mikael's mental voice was thoroughly embarrassed. I'm sorry, Raphael-sama...I didn't mean to...that is, I...
So Raphael decided that that was enough beating around the bush. His heart beat faster as he constructed an image of them half dressed, Mikael splayed out underneath him on the window seat, their hands laced together and Raphael's lips trailing down the side of Mikael's throat. The image, the desire, Raphael's own convinced opinion that it would feel so very good - all of that, he sent to Mikael's mind. I want that. I want you.
Carefully, purposefully, Raphael removed the guitar from Mikael's grip. He tilted Mikael's chin up, feeling the boy's nervous breath against his face. If this feels good - here he licked Mikael's ear mentally - Imagine what the real thing feels like.
Stuttering images flashed in his mind, of kisses and touches, raw desire in snapshots of emotion. Raphael kissed Mikael then, as he had wanted to for Most Holy only knows how long, with tender and insistent need, devouring Mikael's little sounds of want.
He pushed away clothing underneath his fingertips, wanting only the silken heat of flesh, skin against skin. Too many barriers between them...Mikael gasped helplessly as Raphael's lips found his ear, tongue tracing the pale curve, teeth nibbling gently on the lobe. "I've wanted you," Raphael husked into Mikael's ear, the lavender scent from the boy's hair wafting about him. His fingers undid the boy's school tie, unbuttoned the shirt with its starched, proper collar. "Wanted you for so long..." Finally the hated clothing was gone and he was free to explore the delicate arch of Mikael's neck, tasting slightly salty skin with his tongue even as his hands roamed over Mikael's back and hips. You can touch me too Raphael reassured him. Touch me and see what happens...I might do this for you... An image of himself, crying out hoarsely, shamelessly. Mikael shuddered in his arms and his lips dared a brief caress of the top of Raphael's ear, so conveniently within reach. Raphael moaned at the touch of satin lips and arched to the touch, his fingers dancing over the hardened nubs of Mikael's nipples.
You can touch me like I touch you Raphael said, voice wrapped in smoky velvet. However you want...anything you want.
An image of their first meeting leaked into his mind...only he saw himself from Mikael's perspective. Saw the blushing admiration of his chest, the concentration on his bared stomach. So touch me he crooned. You don't have to just look anymore. Touch me.
Long, nimble fingers that Raphael had first admired as they played the guitar now splayed over his chest, dipping under the jacket that Raphael had nearly forgotten about. He groaned as Mikael teased his nipples to hardness with a light, exploring touch, and then pushed the boy down onto the window seat and followed, fitting his body atop his student's.
I think we're overdressed, don't you? he purred. Much better to be like this. An image of their naked forms entangled, darkened skin against ivory, one white wing covering them, halos touching.
He didn't even have to wait for Mikael's nonverbal urgent assent. So he pulled off his jacket and divested Mikael of his shirt, even pulling off his two belts so that his trousers fluttered loose about his hips.
Raphael kissed and licked his way down Mikael's chest, stopping at the tender skin just below the navel. You've pleased yourself before, haven't you? he asked. Mikael flushed red, even deeper than before. Oh, darling, no shame in that. None at all. Because it feels good, doesn't it? He licked roughly at the hollow of the navel. It's okay to feel good. It's good to feel good. I was just going to ask...any preferences? Mikael remained mute except for his gasping breaths, and Raphael smiled against his skin. Hmmm...then why don't I introduce you to something that you can't do for yourself?
Raphael slid down the zipper of Mikael's trousers, slowly and deliberately. Then, starting at the waistband, he kissed a trail down the skin as he pulled both trousers and underwear away. Ever wondered? he asked silkily, meeting Mikael's eyes, hot with need. Ever wanted to know what this would feel like? An image of himself going down on Mikael. It looks so good...I can't wait to taste. Mikael cried out above him from the thought alone.
Mikael moaned at the new sensation, and Raphael's mind was awash with images and thoughts. Flashes of them sitting together at guitar lessons, memories of warmth and hidden desire. A visual of Mikael alone in his bed, fingers straying down his body, thoughts only of Raphael. Unprovoked blushes explained, the heady, raw hormonal urges inflaming Raphael further.
And soon, wonderful tension that Raphael nearly felt as his own, Mikael's gasping cries and sobs stoking his own inner heat, and they were connected and it was beautiful...So good...it can always be this good, it can be even better. All for you, always for you... And then...unthinking rapture.
Mikael was spread out before him, a picture study in erotic art with his hair mussed and a fine sheen of sweat on his skin. Blissed out and profoundly relaxed and just...gorgeous. And Raphael needed him, really needed him, right now. He pulled himself up Mikael's body and settled himself against the boy's hip even as he gazed into Mikael's exhausted eyes. So worth waiting for Raphael thought to him, setting a rhythm and moaning at the delicious friction. Waited...years...centuries...so long...to find you. Moments more where he couldn't manage coherent thought, wrapped up in the sensations of slick skin and heat and sweat and the exquisite final joining with someone he...loved.
So worth it he gasped finally, shuddering and collapsing in Mikael's arms.
Mikael was crying.
Raphael was startled out of late afternoon drowsiness when he glanced over and saw tears making careful tracks down Mikael's face. No change in breathing, no sobbing – just quiet tears.
"It doesn't matter," Mikael said softly.
Alarmed, Raphael walked swiftly across the room and sat down beside him. "Mikael?" he said uncertainly, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket and offering it.
Mikael ignored it, and Raphael felt a panicked worry close his throat.
Then he realized what Mikael held tightly in one hand. His Assignment. "It doesn't matter how well I do. Because for Noelle to become an angel, she has to choose to do so, right?"
Raphael bit his lip. Because that wasn't really the point, but he wasn't allowed to correct Mikael. He wasn't allowed to reassure him, and the realization ached somewhere deep inside.
He moved to embrace Mikael, and for a moment the boy resisted. "Raphael-sama," Mikael said in choked anguish, before flinging his arms around Raphael's neck. "Raphael-sama…what if she says no?"
Raphael held him tight and kissed his cheeks, the tears salty on Raphael's tongue. "It's going to be okay, Mikael," he said, willing himself to believe, wanting so badly to tell Mikael how they could make it okay, but knowing that he couldn't.
Mikael sobbed harder, and his hand came up to touch his own halo.
His hand came away with it, and then the halo dropped lifeless to the ground from nerveless fingers.
A tear slid down Raphael's cheek. Oh, Most Holy. They could do this. And as far as Raphael was concerned, they were going to do it together. He would watch Mikael, and help where he could.
Because he just couldn't bear the thought of being apart forever.
"Raphael-sama!" Mikael called after him, his voice echoing in the thin winter air.
Raphael smiled and walked in place. "Hmmm?" he called back, narrowly restraining himself from swinging his battered suitcase like a joyful schoolboy.
"Where are you going?" Mikael asked. Heavens, the boy sounded quite panicked. Excellent.
Raphael still didn't turn around. "I was thinking of going back to heaven. I've used up my paid vacation time, and I really don't like the cold..." That was all true. Gabriel would kick his ass if he didn't get back, and snow was really better when you were someplace - preferably with someone - warm.
"That's how you've always left me, to be all alone." Mikael sounded quite defeated and more than a little bitter. Then Mikael burst out, "Take me, please take me with you!" His former student's lovely tenor wavered and cracked on the last note. "Raphael-sama!"
Raphael continued to walk.
"I..I..as an angel student, I want to learn all over again!" Mikael said formally, his speech pitched in the politest terms possible. Raphael had never quite considered manners to be sexy before meeting Mikael.
"As a student?" Raphael asked, struggling to contain his internal glee.
"Yes."
"Really?" Raphael asked, drifting backward toward Mikael.
"Yes," Mikael repeated, his tone determined.
"Really, truly?"
"Yes."
"Really, truly, dearly?" Raphael teased.
"Yes," Mikael repeated, with no sign of impatience.
"No can do!" Raphael sang in delight, moving his form ahead of Mikael, back into the light from the streetlamp.
"Raphael-sama!"
Raphael held up a parchment with Gabriel and the Metatron's seals. "You've passed your assignment as a teacher." He was so proud of Mikael, he could just burst.
Mikael's jaw was hanging open in a rather silly manner that was vaguely reminiscent of the carp in Ardouisur's gardens. "Teacher?" he repeated, expression frozen.
"A teacher at the Angel School," Raphael clarified gently.
"Huh?" Mikael said, visibly fighting disbelief. "It couldn't be...all this time, it wasn't a test for Noelle...? It was a test...for me?" Bingo, Raphael thought. He shifted himself so he was standing back-to-back with Mikael. "Nothing ever goes as planned. For you, or for me...nor for Noelle," he said softly, pressing against Mikael's back, smiling and unable to stop. I love you, he whispered to Mikael, mind-to-mind, putting his soul into the phrase. Mikael seemed to melt against him, physically and mentally.
"What's the most important thing to you right now?" Raphael prodded gently. Warmth, affection, desire and devotion seeped into his mind slowly, shyly. He waved a little flower at Mikael and whispered tenderly, "Just follow your feelings."
"R-Raphael-sama..." Mikael said, his voice soft and a little high with embarrassment.
Raphael half-turned. "I'm going to teach you a lot of hands-on thing from now on," he promised, and what a glorious promise it was! He laughed softly and blushed a little, in both anticipation and sheer happiness.
Mikael twitched as Raphael stroked his former student's cheek with the flower. "Raphael-sama, once we return to the Angel School..."
"We can spend time alone doing a couple things inside the faculty storage room..." Raphael interrupted, whispering huskily into Mikael's ear.
"Stop joking!" Mikael exclaimed, mortified.
"I'm not joking. We'll be together forever," Raphael told him, looking forward to every second for the rest of eternity. Mikael turned in his embrace to face him.
"Raphael-sama," Mikael said, a half-hearted warning.
Raphael clicked off the streetlight, pulled out his Heaven key, and giggled a little. "You know you like it," he said sweetly, nipping at Mikael's neck and groping him shamelessly.
"Raphael-sama!" Mikael embraced him almost fiercely, and they kissed as they ascended to heaven. Back home, together, for always.