neutral_omens | (no subject)

Entry tags:

mictain,
raphael

(no subject)

Date: March 7, 2000
Setting: The Manor infirmary
Status: Private - Mictain and Raphael -- Complete
Summary: Mictain goes looking for a certain angel.
Rating:

Mictain wandered down the halls with no clear destination. This was not very unusual nowadays. After all, he had little else to do.

He realized he had come close to the infirmary, and that Raphael was likely to be there. After a moment's thinking he headed for it, this time with determination.

It wasn't like he missed the angel or something like that, of course. He was merely bored, and Raphael was pretty. He was fun to tease, too; the healer seemed so afraid of him that it was ridiculous. And perhaps, should he find the healer, he could even touch him -- stroke his cheek, for instance. His skin was so soft and the way he blushed so very very pretty...

Or perhaps he should try to make Raphael forget his fear for him. After all, if there was no fear, he could probably play with the angel's loneliness and lack of Michael and get back into his bed. Because he lusted after him, of course, which was a perfectly proper demonic thing to do, not because he still loved him or something like that. Love was for fools; it only got you hurt in the end. He ought to know.

Not bothering to knock, he opened the door to the infirmary with a broad smirk on his face. "Good afternoon, angel," he said, practically purring with satisfaction as he indeed found Raphael there. "What are you doing here all alone?"

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"And you're stalling," he replied, nuzzling him and giving him little licks. "Do you plan on taking all day?" He teased him futher, pleased and excited at the muscular form surrounding him. The bed was comfortable and he was feeling fully aroused, but he could wait for Mic to continue.

"I'm not sure I can hold out that long," he said, giving Mictain's nose a little bite.

"Stalling? Me?" Mictain purred, sliding his hand slowly along the angel's upper body. Finally he slipped it under the pillow the redhead used to cover himself, finding exactly what he was looking for. Wrapping his hand around Raphael's erection, he started to stroke it deliberately slowly, at the same time licking one of the healer's nipples, teasing the other one with his free hand. He was incredibly hard, and Raphael was just delicious, and this was exactly what he had wanted and almost perfect.

Raphael relaxed and let himself enjoy without making a motion to do anything himself. He simply let Mic do as he pleased and found that his body would gladly respond on it's own.

He smiled and splayed himself against the pillow.

Marvelous.

Mictain moved his hand faster and faster, his mouth now wandering all over the angel's chest, leaving little kisses and nibbles in its wake. His free hand wandered all around Raphael, tangling in the lovely hair, caressing the smooth skin, tracing the outlines of the small yet perfect body splayed before him.

Then, however, he grew too impatient. Banishing his own clothes to the floor -- they were just a hinderance at the moment -- he reached that free hand to his own erection, being so hard he ached. Setting a pace similar to that of his other hand on Raphael, he continued kissing and licking and nibbling the angel's chest, enjoying every tiny movement and sound he managed to draw from the healer.

"Why don't you let me do that?" Raphael asked between squeaks and gasps. "My hands are rather free at the moment."

He slid his hand down and put it on top of the larger one.

"Of course, we could do something with little Mic that doesn't involve hands at all," he said with a grin. He was already feeling ecstatic and throbbed with pleasure; what difference did it make if they finally saw things through to completion?

It wasn't as if he hadn't fantasized about it before.

Mictain was startled at Raphael's words -- not that he let it show, of course. Could the healer truly mean what he thought he did? He had thought it would be impossible for him to get any harder, but he was being proved wrong at the very moment.

Several possible responses flew through his mind, everything from, 'Hell yeah,' to, 'Are you sure you're ready for that?' However, he forced himself to forget such things. He had to be sure he'd understood right; he wasn't about to let what little understanding he'd managed to form with the healer to be messed up because he misinterpreted the other's words.

However, he did let his hand abandon Raphael's lovely lenght and creep a bit downwards, brushing lightly against the healer's inner thigh. "And what would it involve, then?" he asked quietly, masking his voice as calm while one half of him was a nervous wreck in the inside. (The other half, of course, was currently throwing a party, being absolutely sure it was right about what Raphael had meant.)

He reached up and lightly slapped the demon's face, then licked the mark he'd made. After he did so he leaned over his ear, laughing slightly then sobering.

"What do you think it involves? Clearly being a demon hasn't completely changed you; you're still fully capable of being a moron. And if you aren't smart enough to figure it out..." He said in a teasing tone, squirmed away and stood up. "Maybe I shouldn't let you do it after all," he told him haughtily.

The healer realized he was probably walking on thin ice, since provoking him was dangerous; but it was also fun in a way, and even arousing. So he sniffed, miracled a bathrobe around his body, and took a few strides away from the bed, his back to Mictain.

"A moron, am I?" Mictain raised an eyebrow, smirking a bit. "You're quite a mystery, Raphael -- one moment you say you don't trust me to hurt you and the next you're apparently purposefully trying to make me angry at you."

He hurriedly rose from the bed and grasped the back of the bathrobe, drawing the angel nearer. "Yes, I am a demon," he said lowly into Raphael's ear, darting his tongue out momentarily to lick the angel's neck, "and a demon's mind works differently from that of an angel, or so they say at least. Letting a demon draw their own conclusions may be dangerous, as they may not take your words the way you expected them to. I merely wanted to be sure I hadn't misunderstood your intention."

He trailed a claw down the back of the bathrobe, carefully slitting the cloth without even scratching Raphael's skin. Finally he slipped a hand through the now parted piece of clothing -- at the same time withdrawing the claw, not wanting to harm the healer -- and let his hand rest on that lovely behind.

"Perhaps if I came to the conclusion that I wanted a physical - and only physical - relationship that I didn't mind a little danger. After all, why else would I agree to do anything with a demon if I didn't accept the risk?

The intention was rather clear however; and do tell, if you misunderstood - how would a demon misunderstand that?" He smiled. "And anyway, as long as it's purely physical, as long as you mean nothing emotionally to me, I can resist if you go too far.

Oh, and by the way - you're on the wrong side."

He took the clawed hand and moved it around to the hardness in front.

"Better. But I'm still waiting."

"Well, there are several things to do that don't involve hands," Mictain said, licking the angel's neck again. "Some of them involve mouth, some... other things." He tried to ignore the unpleasant feeling that filled him whenever Raphael reminded him about the purely physical nature of their relationship. After all, it wasn't like he wanted anything else. This was quite enough for him, having Raphael, having his angel. There was nothing else he could wish for, right? Right?

Squeezing Raphael's erection, he then started to slowly stroke it, at the same time bringing his other hand to the front as well to tease the healer's nipples. He banished the bathrobe that still covered the angel's lovely form and brought the smaller being even closer to himself, heated skin meeting heated skin, his own erection pressed against Raphael's naked back.

Licking the angel's neck one more time, Mictain then whispered heatedly into his ear, "You smell delicious."

Raphael snorted indignantly and miracled his clothing back on, facing him in a huff.

"You know damn well what I meant. And I don't care if you think I taste like filet mignon - since you're being so obtuse about it I'm leaving."

After all, he could always work on himself if it became absolutely necessart. But if Mic was going to tiptoe around the issue then he could play the waiting game until the demon decided he was through playing around.

Now, Mictain had had quite enough. He was trying to play nicely and make sure to keep his demonic instincts under control, and what did he get for his pains? Insults and frustration. Apparently it was time for a different approach. The healer was just asking for it, the way he kept talking like he was the biggest idiot in existence. Okay, so maybe his mind wasn't as sharp as most people's, but even he could take only so much.

"Oh, no, you're not," he said, placing his hands on Raphael's waist. He lifted the smaller being easily into the air and, uncaring about his protests, carried him back to the bed, dropping him on top of the pillows and blankets quite unceremoniously. Straddling Raphael's thighs, he ran sharp claws through the seams of the angel's clothing -- still making sure he didn't scratch Raphael's skin, of course --, peeling the cloth from the smaller being. He repaired the clothing after getting it away from around Raphael -- no use making the angel angry at him for leaving it torn -- and threw it away.

"So is this what you want?" he purred into Raphael's ear, now hovering over the healer on his hands and knees. He trailed one still clawed hand between Raphael's thighs. Withdrawing the claws and wishing for some lubrication to appear on his hand -- he may not have a lot of experience, but after two millennia of unfulfilled dreams he'd certainly learnt his theory well enough -- he then pressed one finger against Raphael's entrance. And, with a kiss on the angel's lips, inside.

Raphael grinned, just a little bit, as he felt himself dragged off. It was still possible to get the reaction he wanted, if he played things right. He'd been hoping that the demon's desire would override his propriety or hesitance - and it seemed it had.

He looked into the demon's eyes and smirked.

"Why yes, in fact, it is."

Then he leaned foward and bit the other viciously on the shoulder. His body quivered with a mix of pain and pleasure as the other entered and he failed to do the courtesy he was extended, scratching the other's back as he was penetrated.

Now if only Mic kept it up.

As unlikely as it seemed, the feeling of Raphael's bite on his shoulder, then the dull angel nails on his back only excited Mictain further. With much less hesitance he added another finger, moving them around, stretching the healer's entrance -- oh, but it was so small and tight -- placing licks and kisses and tiny bites all over Raphael's shoulders and chest. This was exactly what he had been dreaming of for so very long.

At last he decided it was enough. Withdrawing his fingers, he lifted Raphael's knees a bit to move his legs aside, positioning himself between the delicious thighs. Figuring that asking for permission would only annoy Raphael further, he then closed his lips over those of the angel in a heated kiss, at the same time starting to work his way aside. It took all his self-control not to bury his claws in the angel's soft flesh.

As he felt himself being opened and torn, the healer's persistent squeaks became longer, high pitched squeals that indicated his pleasure. He clutched harder and felt his nails dig into flesh.

When he was kissed, he forced ihs tongue inside and when Mic finally entered, his bit the demon's lip. His hips thrust upward and flesh slid against flesh. He had spent so much time dreaming of this moment...

And it was even better than he'd imagined.

Raphael bit his lip, his nails digging into flesh as deep as angelic nails could, and he didn't care. Or, rather, he did care, for it made him all the more excited as he moved further into Raphael, the healer's hips rising to meet him. Oh, but it was incredible, absolutely incredible.

The demon inside him was howling with joy as he began to move within Raphael, short thrusts growing longer at the same time as they began faster, tongue gliding against Raphael's insistent one just like the rest of their bodies moved against each other. Raphael was so delicious and so small beneath him, a fragile beauty full of hidden fierceness, definitely capable of defending himself should need be. Not that he'd ever doubted that, of course; he just enjoyed protecting Raphael.

Now was not the time to be protective and shield Raphael from all pain. It must hurt, especially given their size difference, but he was certain there was also pleasure in it. He could feel it in Raphael, in the way the other's tongue made its way into his mouth, in the nails scratching his back, small body moving to meet him again and again.

Two millennia of futile dreams and waiting, he decided, had definitely been worth it all.

Mic quickly lead them both to climax in a wash of sensations, both painful and pleasureable. Raphael could sense the fact that he was slightly torn and bloody but he didn't make a move to heal himself.

Instead, as soon as Mic removed himself, he flopped over, exhausted, and promptly fell asleep. .

Mictain withdrew himself from the sweetness that was Raphael. The angel immediately fell into deep sleep, apparently exhausted. The demon smiled briefly, then frowned as he noticed blood where it shouldn't have been. With a thought he cleaned it away -- as well as ny other fluids -- and then set on to healing the angel. Sure, he had never been too good at healing others, but he could do something at least. This was Raphael; he had to do something at least. Therefore he concentrated as best as he could, healing what damage he'd done on the healer to the best of his abilities.

Finally he was satisfied that Raphael would be okay. Now, there was the problem of what to do next. Fortunately his by now mostly vacated mind didn't have to make the decision by itself as his body appeared to be acting pretty much on his own. He wrapped his arms around Raphael's slender form, drawing the angel partly on top of himself, and closed his eyes, listening to the beating of Raphael's heart, enjoying the warmth radiating from the smaller body. And, little by little, he fell asleep.

When he woke up again, Raphael found that Mic was asleep. He groaned and looked down at himself, disgusted. He got up, annoyed, and took a long, hot shower.

Shit.

When Mictain woke up, Raphael was away. His first reaction was disappointment. Then, however, his demonic instincts woke up as well, easily overpowering the loving part of him that was flickering in sadness at Raphael's departure. How that little slut dared! Raphael had been the one to suggest that they should have sex. He could at least have the guts not to sneak away afterwards.

Claws extending, Mictain rose and sliced at the bed, tearing the sheets. It didn't take away his anger -- at the moment he quite wished it had been Raphael under his claws -- but it was the best he could have right now. Silently fuming, he clad himself, starting to quickly walk towards his own room.

A thought rose to his mind, however, and he smirked, a fang flashing briefly. He had managed two millennia with only himself to "play with"; he could manage again, especially now that he had some real memories to add to his fantasies. Raphael, he suspected, would not stand as long. Eventually he would have the healer come to him -- and when he did, he would make him pay.

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