TRUMP

Betaed by Harukami

Mikael was sitting cross-legged on the floor, pins held between his lips as he patiently mended one of Raphael's jackets.

Okay, now, I'm not a big seamstress myself, but if it's just repairs, would he really need to pin the jacket? I mean, all of the old hem marks and stuff are already there. I should sow more so I don't have to ask...

His golden eyes glimmered with determination as he chastised the jacket for not cooperating, and Raphael pressed a hand to his mouth to keep himself from laughing. "Becoming quite domestic, aren't we?" he drawled, leaning in the doorway.

Ah, Raphael-sama and his DRAWLS.

Mikael's head snapped up with surprise, and Raphael dearly hoped he wouldn't accidentally swallow one of those pins. His lover's

Mikael's... Raphael... His lover is a bit awkward. Perhaps something like "Mikael's head snapped up with surprise, and it was pure luck he didn't swallow one of the pins. Eyes widening, in consternation, he swiftly..." etc. It's only a little awkward, though.

eyes widened and he frowned in consternation, swiftly removing the pins from his mouth. "Raphael-sama! You're not supposed to be home yet - I haven't even started dinner!" he protested, visibly upset.

Raphael pushed off the doorframe and held out a package neatly wrapped in brown paper. "That was sort of the point, Mikael. To bring dinner before you made it." At Mikael's quizzical look, he clarified, "Chinese take-out. Thought you'd like a break from cooking for a change."

*giggles a bit randomly * Where the hell do you pick up Chinese take-out in heaven?! Is there a nearby 'city' (City of angels?!) And what ARE the stores like?

The younger angel's cheeks turned faintly pink, and he lowered his eyes. "Thank you...that was very thoughtful of you, Raphael-sama." He paused, his lips pursing in thought. "Though in all honesty, I think it was your turn to cook tonight anyway."

*digs*

The one-winged angel raised his dark eyebrows and shrugged noncommitally, then stretched out beside Mikael on the tatami mat. "What possessed you to do that?" he asked curiously, indicating the jacket with a wave of the hand. "It's not as though that's the only one I have - you didn't need to do it."

"Need and want are usually two different things, Raphael-sama," Mikael responded quietly, knotting off the end of his thread. "Besides - I know this one is your favorites, since you've picked it up every morning this week and then threw it aside when you saw the hole again."

I can so see Raphael doing that. Lazy-ass professor...

Raphael laughed somewhat sheepishly. "I suppose you're right." He kissed him

*sighs sadly* Referrants.

on the cheek in thanks, then got up and wandered to the kitchen. After cleaning up, Mikael joined him and set about making tea. "How was class this morning?"

The aqua-haired angel wrinkled his nose. "Class itself went mostly okay...except for the usual nonsense with Cherior, whom I will kill one of these days," he grumbled, naming Azrael's protégé. "He's disruptive in the classroom and he keeps picking on Nareba, despite my moving him across the room and chastising him for heckling her."

Dude! This must be set after Dare, then! I can never remember the exact order they come in, but I do know I made up Cherior in Dare. And tell me about Nareba?

Raphael paused in his unpacking of the take-out cartons. "You might want to have a talk with the Az about that sometime," he said.

"Azrael is just as bad, Raphael-sama. I don't think he'd perceive a problem," Mikael said glumly, carefully poured the tea into two cups and set them both on a tray, as well as the teapot. "Coming, Raphael-sama?" he called over his shoulder, walking carefully over to their low table.

Okey-dokii. It's BEFORE Dare. 'cause Mikael talked to Az about the problem in Dare. I love it when we both work on a story at the same time and revise our own work based on the other's stuff.

Raphael followed and knelt on a pillow, setting their dinner on the table. Their room looked much like their apartment in Japan - when Raphael had mentioned to Mikael that he could redecorate their home as he pleased, the one-winged angel came home to tatami mats, futons, flower arrangements, and a low cherry-wood table for two. Not that he minded, but he found Mikael's need for continuity surprising at times. With all the changes surrounding becoming an angel teacher, Mikael clung to things that stayed the same - their home life being one of them.

Again, very in character. *snuggles Mikael*

"So, how was your day?" Mikael asked between bites.

"It was great. I went and bugged the hell out of the Metatron," Raphael responded enthusiastically, punctuating the name with a stab of his chopsticks.

I giggle insanely every time I read that sentance.

Ah-hah. There was the frown of disapproval. "Don't you do any work around here, Raphael-sama?" Mikael accused, his eyes narrowing.

Raphael tapped him on the nose with a chopstick. "Of course I do. We had a discussion about gate security, in fact." He returned to demolishing a mountain of fried rice, chewing serenely. Mikael looked unconvinced, so Raphael changed tactics. Holding up a small piece of sweet and sour chicken, he cajoled, "Say 'aah', Mikael."

Definately before Dare. You know, I am scared shitless by the "say 'aah', Mikael". Anthy and Akio, meet Mikael and Raphael. *shudders*

Mikael's pale eyebrows flew up in surprise, but he obediently opened his mouth and his eyes fluttered closed. Raphael took the opportunity to give him a tender kiss before feeding him the chicken. They ate the rest of the meal in companionable silence, occasionally offering each other food with lacquered chopsticks.

If they're Japanese, they WOULD be lacquered.

Mikael looked up from fiddling with his teacup, his wispy hair obscuring his the golden depths of his eyes. Raphael read puzzlement in the creased brows, anxiety in the pursed lips. He leaned back to wait for Mikael's curiosity to get the better of him. As usual, he did not have long to wait.

Like an open book, Mikael.

"Does it storm here, Raphael-sama?" came the question at long last, voiced with a teacher's professional interest and with an overtone of a student's fear of the unknown.

Nice reminder of how new Mikael is.

Raphael craned his head around to look out the window. The almost perpetual sunshine was gone now, to be replaced by mournful clouds and a cruel wind that lanced through the heavens. "Come with me," he beckoned,

You can't beckon with a phrase. Sorry.

rising from the table and padding softly on bare feet over to the window seat. Stretching out, he pulled the younger angel into his lap and settled him there, his arms wrapped about Mikael and his chin resting on his shoulder.

Awww. ^^ I had a conversation with Sun the other day about her timing. ^^;; Her response: "I saw two angels on the roof, and wondered, so..." You should probably pop back onto NT for a while soon so your character doesn't get deleted. But I really want to rp with you again. (Note: This makes more sense when you read our role-play logs and find out that Sun interrupted a makeout scene...)

"It's on the principle that you can't know good without knowing evil; you can't appreciate love until you've known loneliness," Raphael lectured, his voice firm but gentle. "Do you understand me so far, Mikael?" The younger angel nodded slowly, the silky skin of his face brushing Raphael's own. "You probably won't ever see it snow here, unless Most Holy is in an odd mood, but occasionally it will thunderstorm."

Wanna write a snow-day fic. Az all bundled up grumpily in coat, ear muffs, and a scarf, Suriel wearing more than a few scraps of clothing for once, Cherior getting dumped into snow banks...

"There's no lightening yet," Mikael breathed, as if afraid to interrupt the storm. In the stillness of their home the howling wind could be heard with ease, and a small smile tugged at the corners of Raphael's mouth as he felt Mikael lean back into him. Beneath his fingers and his chin Raphael felt the smooth rustle of the younger angel's garments - Mandarin style and business-like, they conveyed his sense of duty.

Cool. I'm trying to imagine Mikael in something but his school uniform or the buff, and failing.

"Look now," Raphael whispered into Mikael's ear, his breath stirring a few aqua strands. "See Uriel's handiwork?"

I'm not sure why that has the amount of power that it does, but it DOES.

"The lightening?" his former student asked, voice colored with unadulterated awe.

Sorry, again, but you can't COLOUR with UNADULTERATED anything. Because by having it coloured, it's no longer unadulteratied. Am I making more sense than spelling errors or not?

"Aa," he confirmed, his lips pressing to Mikael's smooth skin just above the collar. "Target practice, really. Remember down on Earth when people talked of being struck down by God? They were really talking about Uriel." He felt, rather than heard, Mikael's intake of breath as the sky lit up once more with Uriel's terrible power. Raphael stroked his fingers lightly over Mikael's chest in an effort to soothe the tensed muscles and ruffled feathers. "Afraid of a little storm?" he gently teased, smiling at the ghost of a frown that crossed Mikael's lips.

"No, Raphael-sama. Afraid of death."

Mikael denied it with a small shake of the head, his hair brushing over Raphael's nose. "Liar," Raphael accused, his voice warm with barely hidden amusement. His lips touched the creamy skin of Mikael's throat, kissing and nibbling a bit, trying to taste more of him. "You know," Raphael said, his voice husky, "Uriel strikes down the wicked. Are you wicked, my lying love?"

*gets sudden shivers* I shouldn't be disturbed by this, but somehow I just got a little Omael-voice in my head murmuring, "How can you not love the father of lies, for we lie all the time..." Out, Out, Damn'd Omael.

"Raphael-sama!" Mikael protested, craning his neck so he could glare at him.

Gotcha, Raphael triumphed as he took advantage of the situation. Mikael made a mumbled sound of outrage as the older angel captured his lips, but soon he went deliciously limp, submitting to Raphael's questing kisses. Won't you kiss back, 'Kael? he wondered, nibbling on the aqua-haired angel's full bottom lip.

So, does he? And why not? Just wondering.

"Are you still pouting?" Raphael questioned huskily, withdrawing minutely to search his former student's face.

Golden eyes flashed from languor to irritation. "I am not pouting," he insisted, huffily launching himself out of Raphael's arms so he could turn around and face him.

Raphael took in the shallow breathing, the flushed face, and the mussed aqua hair in one slow look. "Of course not," he agreed with ease, feeling his heart beat faster. "But you are just sinfully desirable when you're upset with me."

Oh, come on. Mikael's ALWAYS sinfully desirable.

His wing feathers flaring, it took Mikael a few moments to be able to produce coherent sound beyond sputtering. "Raphael-sama, do you do this on purpose?!" he demanded, his eyes looking wild as his former teacher crawled across the window seat towards him.

Yes. And damn, that's a sexy image.

Raphael pounced and gently pushed

I don't mean to be pushy, but how do you pounce and then do ANYTHING gently?

the younger angel onto his back. "Do what on purpose?" he asked, before bending to lap and nip at the creamy skin at the base of Mikael's neck.

We UNDERSTAND that Mikael has creamy skin. Just look a couple of paragraphs up, the LAST time he was biting at Mikael's neck. Just add some Mikael to coffee for a treat.

"Do this?" His finger circled one aroused nipple through his lover's silk-smooth shirt. "Or maybe this?" Mikael gasped as Raphael's fingers trailed down to his thighs.

MmmMMMmm.

"Everything!" Mikael exclaimed softly, part answer, part plea. Aqua lashes half-hid the earnest desire in his eyes, all the more beguiling in its honesty.

Raphael shivered in pleasure as the younger angel's hands slid inside his jacket, the feather-like caresses seemingly everywhere at once. "I'll show you everything," he mock-threatened, going for the collar of Mikael's mandarin tunic.

"You already have!" his former student reminded him in blood-stirring, breathy little whisper.

I think Raphael still has a few lessons left in 'im... ^^

Raphael frowned in frustration as the damnably small closures on Mikael's tunic refused to cooperate. "I've always found it helpful to reinforce lessons with repetition. Wouldn't you agree, love?" He accidentally popped the last hook off and peeled the offending barrier of cloth off Mikael. "Don't worry," he assured him as he kissed his way down from one slender shoulder to his chest. "I'll mend it for you," he lied smoothly.

Just think. Mikael spends HOURS working on Raphael's clothes, and Raphael spends moments ripping Mikael's clothes about. It's fair in a very odd way.

The next morning, Mikael rounded a corner, almost skidding in his haste to get to the first year teachers' weekly meeting. He was late, he had far to many papers to grade-

I can't help it. O SUWARE!
WHAM!

He was dashed hard to the ground after the impact, the term papers scattering over the burnished hardwood floor. He groaned in despair, and then began apologizing to whomever it was he had just collided with, nearly babbling in his haste to get the words out. He looked up, and saw an angel in a pinstripe suit, his head bowed as he retrieved the last of the papers. But when his face tilted up - oh!

It's gangsta' Uriel, yo yo yo, boom boom bachaaaaa.

Impossibly blue eyes, face framed by unevenly shorn black locks. "My apologies," the angel apologized smoothly, his voice velvety and strong. "I wasn't looking where I was going, and frankly," here he gave Mikael an appraising look, "I'm rather glad I wasn't."

Skank.

Mikael forced a polite smile to his face. "Th-thanks for helping me pick up my papers. I appreciate it, really." They both stood up, and Mikael backed up a little, preparing to walk around the angel.

"What's your hurry, sunshine?" the angel asked, settling a Sinatra-esque hat on his head and striding forward with easy confidence.

Which reminds me, have you seen pictures of Debussy? That guy bought hats four sizes too small and then set them at jaunty angles on his head. Weird person.

Mikael gulped nervously and backed up against a door, his students' midterms clutched in his arms. "I - I'm just on my way to a staff meeting. I'll be late if I don't get going, so..."

Arms encased in navy pinstripe closed in on either side of his bed. "Staff meetings are so overrated, don't you agree?" Warm breath tickled Mikael's forehead, and the aqua-haired angel licked his lips nervously, trying to discretely

Spelling.

find the doorknob behind him.

"I'm burning a lot of energy avoiding the Metatron, you see, and I think you'd be perfect stress relief, young pretty thing..."

"Don't be scared, sunshine," the stranger crooned, black locks brushing Mikael's cheeks. "I won't hurt you..." Mikael squeaked in fright, trying to push the other away. His papers spilled onto the ground again as the unfamiliar angel seized him in a firm embrace. "Unless you want me to," he amended in a drawling murmur before stealing a kiss.

Kinky. Whore.

The door opened, and Mikael fell backward into someone's arms. "Uriel," Raphael growled. "hands off."

Uriel dusted off some imaginary dust off his suit. "Not my fault you have exquisite taste, dear heart," he said smoothly. "After all you picked me, didn't you?"

*digs*

Raphael pursed his lips in annoyance, even as he felt Mikael stiffen in his arms.

"Well, I must be getting going. Good day, gentlemen." Uriel tipped his hat and made his way down the hall.

"Of all the arrogant, inconsiderate..." Mikael sputtered, his gold eyes glowing bright with anger and after-fright.

Oooh, good description. And Mikael's a GLOW IN THE DARK BISHOUNEN! The only real kind!

Raphael blew air from thinned lips, stirring his bangs. he thought at Mikael.

At least THAT's a public place.

Mikael rounded on him. "And what's this about you and that....that ass?"

Ah, but Uriel probably wasn't bottom, Mikael...

Raphael groaned and hung his head. "It was a loooong time ago, I swear to Most Holy..."

"I was young and stupid! I swear!"

Mikael hated spades. Really, truly hated them. Please don't ask me to pick it up please don't ask me to pick it up, he chanted mentally, biting his lower lip in his anxiety.

I've been playing Crazy 8ts. I hate them too.

Raphael raised one eyebrow and his lips curved into a sensuous smile, somehow managing to look utterly delicious and piss Mikael off at the same time. He indicated the center card of doom, a ten of spades. "Why don't you go ahead and pick it up, darling?" he drawled magnamiously.

Ah, Raphael-sama and his DRAWLS.

Mikael fought to keep the scowl off his face as he gingerly picked up the card and discarded a jack of hearts in its place. He had wanted to play pinochle, but nooooo. Raphael-sama and Azrael had wanted to play Euchre, and Euchre it was. Uriel had agreed easily to the idea, and Suriel was busy in the kitchen with dinner, methodically washing the dinner dishes.

Is there any other way to do it? Poor Suri. Gets stuck with the worst job in the Realm and still has to wash dishes.

Uriel led with an ace of diamonds, confidently throwing the card into the center of the table. Unevenly shorn locks of dark hair framed his delicate face, and tonight a beret was perched somewhat precariously upon his head.

Hope he doesn't sneeze.

His impossibly blue eyes seemed to laugh at everyone. Raphael trumped with a nine of spades, causing Mikael to heave a mental sigh of relief. Raphael-sama just had to declare spades trump, of which Mikael had only one. Why couldn't he have let it go so hearts or diamonds could be declared? That he could have dealt with. Oh well - if they lost this hand, it would be all Raphael-sama's fault. Not that the cinnamon-haired angel would admit to it, but at least Mikael's conscience would be clear.

I'm so glad you know what you're talking about in the game. Makes it feel authentic.

A foot rubbed his own, and Mikael pursed his lips in annoyance. He was hardly in the mood for footsie and made his irritation known by deliberately stepping on the offending toes.

Whups.

Uriel winced and stifled an exclamation, and Raphael and Uriel looked up from their cards. "Knickers in a twist, punk?" Azrael asked with no sympathy whatsoever. Uriel shook his head, and Azrael growled, "Well, then quit mentally undressing the kid and fucking play a card, already."

Have I mentioned I love Az?

Raphael snorted in amusement and Mikael thought he heard a hiccup of laughter from Suriel in the kitchen. Kid? What kid?

He realized, suddenly, that they were talking about him. That Uriel had been looking at him. That the foot he had just stomped on belonged to one seriously peeved angel. Who could throw lightening. Who had bedded lower angels like it was going out of style. Who had slept with his Raphael-sama in years past.

Heheh.

Mikael could almost feel the vein in his temple throbbing in a one seriously satisfying, good old-fashioned case of jealousy, mixed with a little embarrassment and a dollop of anger added for good measure.

Just add water.

The current hand was over, with Raphael winning the trick by the skin of his perfect teeth. "Suriel," Mikael called. "Would you like to sit in a hand?"

Suriel looked up too quickly and banged his head on the cabinet door above. He swore softly and then agreed, swinging the heavy braid of his long golden hair over his shoulder.

MmmmMMMMmm.

Mikael slid out of his seat and retreated to the kitchen, and started to mix requested drinks.

"So how did this happen?" Suriel asked suddenly. Mikael assumed he was talking about the hand. He assumed wrong.

"Must've been Omael," Azrael growled, long coal-black strands of hair obscuring the better part of his face. "Filthy bastard runs back and forth between Most Holy and the Morning Star. Can't even trust him to fuck the punk here and keep his mouth shut about it."

Uriel smiled thinly. "Not one of my finer moments, I assure you. I thought I had properly impressed on him the need for secrecy, but..." he trailed off with an angry flip of his hand. "Not that my conquests ever remain secret for long, you understand."

Ho-dog.

Raphael chuckled. "Maybe we ought to replace the nameplate under your portrait at the School. I think 'The Rake' in beautifully scripted letters would be an improved, more honest description." This one quote has stuck with me since you wrote this, you know. It's wonderful.

The gold-haired angel of death looked at Uriel disapprovingly. "You went to bed with that trash? You know we're not supposed to have contact with the Unfaithful." He tsk-tsked quietly. "Not that's he's completely the property of the Morning Star, but honestly - don't you ever think before you do these things?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time," Uriel said blithely. He whispered something that Mikael's ears couldn't quite catch, but he suspected it was extremely naughty from the raucous laughter that erupted.

Drinks in hand, Mikael wandered back to the table, distributing them among the players. "Ano...does this have something to do with the graffiti on the Gates this morning?'

"Holiness Sux." "Angels Go Home-- wait, you ARE home! Well, stay there!" Etc.

Raphael declined a drink, but pulled Mikael into his lap instead. "Our current best guess says Omael conveniently dropped his golden key," he murmured, his fingers lightly stroking Mikael's thigh.

"What key?" Mikael demanded, utterly confused.

Rolling his eyes, Uriel muttered, "Um, hello - the little metal thingys you use to hop in between planes of existance?"

He's such a valley girl.

Suriel looked flabbergasted, his wings puffing out like those of a disgruntled parrot.

*Falls over laughing* *Three minutes later, climbs back into her chair, looks at the sentance again, and starts giggling uncontrollibly again*

"How can you be a teacher and not know what keys are?" he asked incredulously. "Raphael, you incompetent...how could he have gotten by without you teaching him about the keys?"

Raphael frowned, resting his chin on Mikael's slender shoulder. "Saaa...I never did teach you, did I? I recall thinking at the time that you certainly picked up fast, but..." He held out one palm, and two well-worn keys materialized - one a soft gold, the other a burnished copper. "Keys are what allow angels to transcend planes - a metaphysical manifestation. A way to focus the mind, really."

I love these little details you're so smart with. Such world-building stuff.

Shifting his wings irritably, Azrael reached over and tipped Mikael's chin up with leather-encased fingertips. "The kid's weird," he pronounced finally. "Probably doesn't need the damn keys because his soul exists concurrently on Heaven and Earth."

Raphael's eyes grew bright at this explanation. "What a fabulous idea," he drawled. "Except that it doesn't make much sense, since he wasn't always in Heaven, nor were Silky and Noelle always on Earth."

I love my Raphael.

Azrael absentmindedly cuffed the one-winged angel upside the head. "Moron. He's one messed-up kid. I bet he could knock on Morning Star's bedchamber door if he wanted to."

"Hello? Avon calling..." O SUWARE! *bam*

Unaccountably, Raphael tightened his arms around Mikael at that statement. "Let's hope not."

Unaccountably? I think it's quite accountable.

The flight back to their home was not a long one, but Mikael welcomed the cool night air against his face. Flying a little a head of Raphael, he twisted in the wind, twirling in mid-air, sailing gracefully with the wind current when he wasn't engaging in small acrobatic moves. The starlight kissed the clouds around them and Mikael smiled at the simple, uninhibited pleasure of it all.

I love that. Makes me think of Kal, but most things do. W hich reminds me, Kal keeps telling me he wants a word with the Met. When did my characters get so bossy?

"Dancer," Raphael called ahead fondly. "Have some patience for those of us who were foolish enough to get into a bar fight with Azrael."

Mikael let his wings beat in place, waiting for Raphael to catch up. Mikael had once tried to tell him that it was aerodynamically impossible for him to fly at all, but Raphael had just offered a little smile. When pressed for an answer, he had simply replied, "Most Holy does not forget us." Still, he did fly a little lopsided, in disturbing little swoops, not unlike a sinusoidal wave.

Nice.

Once home, they unrolled the futon and prepared for bed in comfortable silence. Raphael seemed subdued, and he didn't speak as he gathered Mikael to him in bed, arranging their wings comfortably.

"I... DON'T... Bend... THAT... WAY!"

Mikael stroked the arch of Raphael's wing softly, the equivalent of soft, chaste little kisses. He waited patiently for Raphael to speak. During the day, Raphael was flippant and toying, but there seemed to be something in the late sleepiness of the night that revealed his serious, tender side. And so Mikael waited, touching his wings to let him know that he wanted to hear his words.

Good. Reminds me of a certain scene in the series.

Raphael cupped Mikael's chin with one hand, his thumb brushing over the Mikael's lips. His chocolate brown eyes seemed almost black in the scant light afforded by the stars.

Which is weird, because Raphael's eyes are deep shade of amythist purple.

"They're right, you know - you are unusual."

Mikael permitted himself a little sigh of exasperation. "Thanks. I think we've had this conversation before. My wings were burning in the interim, if I recall correctly." He threw one let

...leg?

over Raphael's so he could lie even closer.

Mikael's burning, Mikael's burning, draw nearer, draw nearer...

"You were also a trifle unhinged, but let's not go there either," Raphael murmured, a small smile turning the corners of his lips upward. His fingers traced a path down Mikael's side and over his slim hips, then pushed him gently onto his back. His hips resting between Mikael's thighs, he stroked the soft down on the underside of the younger angel's wings. "You know, it ought to be theologically impossible for you to exist. Why do you think it is?"

HOW is it theologically impossible? Becaue he's only 1/3 of a soul?

Mikael gasped softly, a breathy little catch to his voice. "I don't know, Raphael-sama. But I'm with you and ... you're the most important thing to me. Taisetsuna. And maybe it's like you said before - Most Holy doesn't forget us."

Fanboy japanese. But God, it fits.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Raphael asked, his expression unreadable.

Neither do we. Have I beta read this before? I didn't think I had, but... that's familiar.

"Aishiteru," Mikael whispered back. "I know that much."

Raphael's arms tightened about him, and they did not speak anymore that night.

"Are there any questions?" Mikael asked his class, shuffling his papers and tidying them into a neat pile on his desk. The question was almost rhetorical - this being the first class of the day, most of them could hardly be defined as being awake. What was it about first-year students? They never seemed to be quite with it until at least the fourth period - and Mikael suspected that this was only the case because at that point, lunch was right around the corner.

So damn true. And I bet it doesn't grow out with age.

As expected, none of his students offered a response, except to sluggishly pack up their textbooks. The bells chimed and his students trudged out, quietly talking amongst themselves.

"Mikael-sama?" A clear, sweet voice intruded on his inner musings.

His head snapped up, and he tried not to cringe at the honorific. "Yes, Sophia?" he asked gently. "Is there something I can help you with?"

I like that.

Her blonde ringlets

*cough* Psst. Sophia has blue hair.

bobbed as she nodded vigorously. She plunked down in the dainty chair next to his desk and pulled out a few sheaves of paper. In some ways she reminded him almost painfully of Noelle, most remarkably in her ability to get herself into all manner of trouble without 1.) having meant to or 2.) noticing it at all.

Too damn true.

Sophia jabbed a finger at a paragraph. "I know this isn't quite right, but I don't know how to fix it, Mikael-sama. I tried asking Uriel-sama because we went out for observation last night, but he said.." - here she rolled her eyes, tugging at a ringlet in consternation - "that he didn't have time to talk about grammar." She sniffed indignantly. "You'd think after being here since, like, forever that he would be really super fast at something like proofreading a paper."

No, he's superfast at OTHER things...

Mikael fought hard to keep down a smile at the thought of her pestering the sensuous and indulgent Uriel with questions about main clauses and participles. "Well, Sophia, you know you can always come to me for help," he assured her. He then examined the paragraph in question, tapping his pen on the desk as he mulled over ideas to fix it.

After a quick discussion, Sophia packed her books and the paper into her bag, and then proceeded to assault him with an exuberant hug.

EXTREME...HUGGING... ACTION!

"Thank you so much, Mikael-sama!" she crowed, then tore out of his classroom, skipping and making more noise than he thought was really suitable.

"Saa...it seems you're quite popular," a smoky, intimately familiar voice remarked.

Smoky.. MMmmmMMMM.

Mikael didn't even look up to see Raphael, whom he was quite sure was lounging insouciantly in the doorway. Raphael had a marked fondness for that pose, it seemed.

Face it, Raphael's never been souciant in his life.

"I wouldn't know about that, Raphael-sama. Most of them seem comatose at this time of the morning."

"She didn't. Quite excitable, isn't she? Ne, Mikael...I wonder why it is you don't protest such an enthusiastic embrace from her, but let my hands do even just a little bit of wandering here at School and you get all 'dame, dame!' on me." Raphael imitated his protestations with a breathy little catch in his voice.

Kawaii na...

Mikael looked up, furiously wishing away the slow blush creeping over his cheeks. "She is a student, and you are incorrigible - that's why." He snapped his satchel shut and slid past Raphael out into the hall. "Gomen, Raphael-sama, but my class is over and I have work to do. I'll see you for the staff meeting, ne?" He walked away, without awaiting a reply.

"Incorrigible, 'Kael?"

Mikael groaned inwardly, as he had really been hoping that the one-winged angel wouldn't follow him. Fat chance, it seemed. "Raphael-sama, I really do have things to do!" he protested.

"You certainly do," the older angel purred before pushing him in through a door.

Things to see, people to do...

Faculty storage room. Why hadn't he been paying attention to the direction he was walking? "Raphael-sama, we can't," Mikael said firmly. "Don't you have things you need to be doing?"

A cat-with-the-cream smile lit up the handsome features of Raphael's face. "Hai," he confirmed, sauntering toward Mikael, letting his jacket fall to the floor.

*cues skanky music*

The aqua-haired angel started to feel a bit panicked. "Dame, Raphael-sama! What if somebody comes in looking for toner for the copy machine?!"

Pfft. Poor excuse.

"I locked the door," Raphael said softly, his voice a teasing sing-song. His fingers seized the top of Mikael's shirt, quickly undoing the first button before Mikael batted his hands away.

"You know as well as I do that there are security cameras all over the School! Do you really want to chance Gabriel-sama catching us?"

"Disabled," Raphael said cheerfully,

Well, maybe disabled.

trapping his hapless lover in the corner by a table. He quickly silenced any further protestations by kissing Mikael into submission.

*cheers and breaks out the popcorn*

Not that this was a long drawn-out process, Mikael thought hazily as Raphael's tongue danced with his own. It usually only took a couple of really good kisses before he was completely amenable to just about anything Raphael wanted. He sighed in pleasure as Raphael sucked on his earlobe, nibbling on it and whispering naughty little suggestions. "Ne, Mi-ka-e-ru...I've been wanted you since you gave me the cold shoulder in the shower this morning."

mmmMMMMmm.

"We were going to be late," Mikael reminded him, the statement followed by a little gasp as Raphael slipped his shirt off and teased one flat nipple into a hard little bud.

Raphael's eyes glittered with the very familiar look of wanting. "I can excuse you, you know," he murmured against Mikael's mouth, licking and nibbling gently at the full, pouty lips. His hands roamed over Mikael's back, grasping his bottom and pulling him up against him.

Mikael leaned forward to kiss the spot where shoulder and neck met, making Raphael clutch him closer. "Right," he remarked, his sardonic tone buffered by the haze of desire. "I can just see it now - 'Sorry, class, I was so busy having my wicked way with your teacher that we completely lost track of time." He punctured statement sucking firmly on Raphael's neck, hard enough to leave a mark.

This whole section is just SO sexy.

"I wish," Raphael groaned. "Speaking of having my wicked way with you..." He hoisted Mikael up onto the table next to them, quickly divesting the younger angel of his trousers.

Mikael gingerly laid back onto the wooden table, mindful of his wings. Raphael's hands ran over his thighs, skirting teasingly around his erection before pulling Mikael's legs up to rest on his shoulders.

Reality once again reared its ugly head. "Raphael-sama!"

"Now what?" the one-winged angel asked, his voice tinged with irritation.

"We don't have any..." Mikael trailed off as a slick finger probed his entrance.

"Stop thinking, Mikael," Raphael instructed hoarsely, little wisps of hair already matted against his forehead with sweat.

Good instructions. *sips tea and watches*

"H-h-hai," Mikael murmured as Raphael removed his finger and slid inside, letting Mikael enjoy the sense of fullness for just a moment before beginning a slow, rhythmic thrusting. Mikael was distantly aware that the rumors of "the Professor boinking the new teacher in the storage room" would no longer be rumors but fact, but then Raphael wrapped his hand around Mikael's erection, stroking him in counterpoint. Then it was far too much effort to think even distantly as Raphael changed his angle and began thrusting even faster, still stroking him and he thought maybe that the gasping moans were his and the desperate groans were Raphael's and he couldn't think couldn't think couldn't breathe and -

Bliss.

Nice decription there.

Raphael shuddered above him, sighing and then sliding Mikael's legs off his shoulders so he could lean forward and press their bodies together. They panted together, trying to catch their breath, their arms wrapped around each other. "I think," Raphael whispered after awhile, "that I'm glad your little wiggle in the shower this morning inspired me to go to such lengths."

Dreamy and sated, Mikael smiled lazily. "It figures that the only time you do any sort of work is when you want to get me out of my clothes as fast as possible."

So true.

"I do work. Real work," he protested, all offended pride. "I am the Professor, you know." A mischievous smile crossed his face. "This isn't work - you're easy," he teased him.

Mika