neutral_omens | (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?"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

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.