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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"That was an age ago. And it wasn't 'you,' not really. It was Michael and he was someone else entirely.

Now I want you to leave," Raphael growled coldly. "I don't care what you meant. I don't care what you thought you were doing. Leave.

Or I swear to Him I will blind you with my halo."

He felt sick and cold inside but he really didn't think he could stand the demon's presence much longer, not at all.

Much as he would have liked to deny it, Mictain found that Raphael's words stung quite a bit. No, he wasn't Michael. And what about it? It wasn't like he had asked to change. And what change there was had happened because he had wanted to protect Raphael, anyway.

Raphael seemed to be serious about his threat, too. However, Mictain didn't want to leave. It was almost intoxicating to be so close to the healer, to see him, to hear his voice, even if the words were those of coldness and hatred.

So it was Michael he wanted, then? Very well. He could do that.

Closing his eyes briefly in concentration, he erased all marks of his demonic nature. Fangs and claws withdrew, his clothes changed into the ones he'd usually worn as Michael, even his hair turned wavy and lost the crimson streak in it. Very carefully he thought back to being an angel, remembering every line, every hue, every turn and curve and outline of muscle, and modified his current form to change into what it had once been. The changes weren't that big in the end but he wasn't taking any risks, not leaving a single strand of hair unattended, making himself a perfect image of his former self. The only thing he couldn't get back was the angelic aura, which he would have needed to be exactly like Michael, but that was impossible. This was as close as he could get; if it didn't help, he could do nothing.

As he opened his eyes again, looking at Raphael seriously, they were again the heavenly blue colour they had been for over six millennia, not a hint of the bloody red to be seen anywhere.

"I am sorry," he said softly, allowing what little remained of the angel inside him to rise to the surface. "I never meant to make you feel uncomfortable. It's just -- I want to see you. Be near you. Make sure you are alright, I guess." He smiled as gently as he could, careful not to let it slip into smirking. "I apologize." The words weren't easy to a demon, he discovered, but his feelings for Raphael -- which, he had to grudgingly admit, were not perhaps purely lust -- helped his tongue to wrap around the difficult word.

"I love you, angel," he said as sincerely as he could, giving Raphael a pleading look. "Please... please don't drive me away. I won't do anything, I won't even say anything if you don't want me to. You'll hardly even notice me. Just let me be near you, and I'll be content."

And, despite his roaring demonic instincts, despite all the lust and need and desire hidden inside him, in his heart -- or what remained of it -- he felt he was telling the truth.

Raphael's eyes widened and he trembled, looking away as the other started to change and it became clear who he was attempting to look like.

"Stop that," he murmured in a faint voice. "Stop that, you're confusing me..." He shoved hiimself backwards until his back pressed against the wall. "Demons are deceivers. They trap you, they look like angels but the aren't, not on the inside..." He had to admit that he sounded terribly uncertain, even to himself.

"You don't love me. You can't. It's not possible," he mumbled, mostly trying to convince himself instead of arguing. "Because if you did..."

He made the mistake of lifting his head and looking into the demon's familiar blue eyes, looking at him with a supplicating gaze.

It was really too much.

He went to him and embraced him, feeling tears slide down his cheeks.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "For everything. But I've missed you, I've missed you so much.... and... and I won't drive you away. Not again. Never again. Oh, I should have know, you were always strong, could still cling to that last remnant of Michael. Well I help you, I help you go back and then we can be together again...

Just stay near me forever and it will be enough," he told him, kissing him as he did so.

At first Mictain thought he had failed in the task of convincing Raphael of his good intentions. It hurt, he noticed. To be able to appear Michael-like he'd had to admit the true nature of his feelings for Raphael, to admit that even as a demon, even after Falling for his sake, he simply couldn't stop loving Raphael. His feelings for the healer were as much a part of him as his wings -- white or black, they wouldn't go away.

Then, however, tears rolled down Raphael's cheeks, and he came to embrace him. Mictain returned the embrace only a tad awkwardly, delighted at the feeling of having Raphael in his arms once again. He listened to the angel's words, and his demonic side roared in fury at the thought of redemption, while a small part of his mind practically wept with joy -- the part that loved Raphael.

He smiled down at the smaller creature in what he hoped was a soothing way, ignoring his demonic instincts. He maybe was a demon, and maybe he could never escape that fact, but at least he would do his best to be like the angel Raphael loved. He would do anything if it just brought him nearer to the little healer.

"I will stay," he promised quietly, and meant it. "I will stay until you tell me to go away." And then, he kissed Raphael, his mind lost in the wonder of being able to do so.

If he kept his eyes closed, Raphael realized, and focused on the warmth, he could hold the image of Michael in his mind and nearly force himself to ignore the wrongness of the aura. His body started to relax then was jolted into shudders as his mind continued telling him that it was a demon he was holding while his heart struggled to reject the idea. The kiss he felt returned only made him cry harder.

"What am I supposed to do?" He sobbed. "What do I do about you? You are deceiving me but I want to be taken in..." He squirmed, half to get away and half to get closer. "You want me to tell you when to go? I don't know.

You tell me this time. When do you want to leave?" He wiped his eyes. "Because maybe we should separate and put this behind us. I'm just a silly, stupid, childish little angel. Is there nobody better suited to you? Someone more mature, more physical, more... vicious?

Why don't you want me to go away?"

Mictain listened to Raphael's words quietly. The demon in him agreed with the healer, told him to get a more suitable partner, told that it was simply foolish to pretend to be an angel just in order to be closer to one who truly was that. However, another part of him, the one that had refused to step aside despite Raphael's pleas, the one that was still remaining of the angel, told him the opposite. And, like he knew, while his demon side could be satisfied, this part would never be happy unless he had Raphael.

"Why would I want you to go away?" he asked softly, looking down at the beautiful, beautiful angel. Bringing up a hand he cradled Raphael's face on his palm, smiling slightly. "I love you, Raphael. You may be a silly little angel, but you are my silly little angel. There might be people 'more suited for me', yes, but I don't want them. I only want you."

His voice was now a mere whisper. "I knew the consequences, and I didn't step aside," he said. "If I now didn't stay by you, wouldn't that have been in vain?"

"Yours? You think you own me? Maybe I will tire of you - and what will you do then? Leave obediently? Or come after me?

I do not understand why you want me even when I can't return it with anything of value. And I wonder if you only want me now as something to please yourself with - is that it? Do you think I am owed to you?

Is loyalty the only reason? You're a demon. You could make up for what I did to you by discorporation me. Or raping me. And maybe you'll do that eventually.

But you're so warm..." He sighed and slumped. "You should have just stepped aside. It would be so easy if you had.

And I wouldn't be so afraid to venture further..."

Discorporation. Rape. The demon in him howled in delight at Raphael's words, agreed with him, told that the healer was right and that was exactly what he should do, preferably right then and there. However, the other part refused, was repulsed at even the thought of hurting his precious angel.

"Yes, I am a demon," he replied. "I have no sympathy left for any angel. I loved, exactly what we were supposed to do, and got punished for it. Yes, the demon in me wants you, desires you, wants to hurt and tear and rape you. But I don't. I couldn't, wouldn't, not ever. Because I love you, Raphael."

He hugged the angel against himself, gently petting the shiny red hair. "I don't know what I can say to you," he said quietly. "I don't know what could convince you about the fact that I don't want to hurt you or use you or do anything that might cause you pain and sorrow. You'll have to trust me when I tell you that I love you, like I trusted you when you told me the same, and hope that the pain of betrayal taught me not to betray."

Placing a little kiss on top of Raphael's head, he finished quietly, "I love you, Raphael, more than anything. You should know that by now."

The healer frowned, confused and fearful.

"You say that the demon in you wants to tear me but then you say that you love me. The two cannot coexist. You are the demon also and in that way you do want to hurt me, very much. I don't see how I can depend on reassurances that 'you' will always be in control, whomever you are now or thing you are. I don't even know..."

He trembled, partly out of fright and partly out of bodily thrill at the little pets and kisses. And given how his body was reacting, he wasn't surprised at all to hear himself squeak.

"I regret what I did, but I don't know where I stand..." He uttered desperately.

Mictain held Raphael close, still petting the coppery hair. "You have to decide," he said quietly. "You can decide to trust me and have me stay beside you, or to find me unreliable and be alone again.

"I cannot give you any proof that my only intention isn't to hurt you and betray you in the worst ways imaginable. "I cannot give you back Michael, either -- I may look like him, but I'm not him. You said so yourself. However, what little remains of the angel is inside me, is a part of me despite the fact that yes, I am indeed a demon, the demon that was betrayed and only wants to hurt you. That part I can give to you if you accept it. To have it, however, you have to accept the rest of me as well -- to believe that the demon isn't the only thing in me.

"Demons are known to have loved angels before. Just because I'm a demon doesn't mean I can't love you. However, I cannot prove it any more than I could prove my love when I was an angel -- or any more than I demanded proofs of your supposed love. I trusted you. Now, you decide whether you trust me in turn."

Raphael looked away from Mictain and frowned, caught between fear of the demon and fear of loneliness. At length he sighed and stood up.

"Perhaps you ought to change back to your proper appearance," he said dryly. "That would make this somewhat easier, to reassure me that I'm not entirely deceived. But as for trusting you...

I do not trust in your love, not yet. I do not think I can return it to you. But perhaps... well... there are other things than love. Practical things. Things that work on a, shall we say, mutual basis." He laughed humorlessly. "I do rather miss efforts; but I'm not about to make one and suffer through cold showers.

If you understand me - what do you think?"

He didn't want to put the offer in to so many words - it seemed so vulgar and a far cry from his previously held personal views - but he was confident the demon would understand his meaning. He could not trust; it brought too many echoes of the deception he himself had worked.

But perhaps they could start smaller. Simpler. Associates with benefits, to mangle a phrase.

Mictain smirked slightly. This was something his both sides could understand and accept. He would have Raphael. And, while the part of him that genuinely loved Raphael was perhaps not fully satisfied, telling that there should be something more, he knew that this was the best offer he would get from the healer at the moment. Telling himself that perhaps, with some work, they could eventually move to something else, he looked down at the other being.

"Cold showers, eh?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "Now, that would be just wrong. Such a pretty creature should not have to suffer through that just to be able to keep making an effort."

Although he was a bit hesitant to do so -- what if Raphael freaked out again? -- he then changed his appearance back to its natural state. His hair straightened again and one streak of it turned red, his clothes changed, fangs grew -- although he did keep them rather small, also refusing to let his claws out --, and his eyes returned to their red colour. It was much easier than the transformation into the angel had been; now he didn't have to think about every bit, just let them come naturally.

Finally he simply pulled Raphael tighter against him, kissing the smaller being, one hand tangling in the shiny red hair. Oh, but wasn't it just lovely.

After only a moment's hesitation, Raphael released his holds and was bombarded with sensation, gasping as everything became vivid in an instant. He ground against Mic's thigh just slightly and twisted his arms around to clutch the back of the other's legs.

"I'm making one now..." he whispered. "Are you going to make me suffer?" He asked in a nearly insolent tone.

"Me? Make you suffer? Never, angel," Mictain replied with a tiny smirk, growing more and more excited with every passing second as Raphael ground against him, Raphael stood there in front of him, against him, with him. His lovely angel...

He kissed the healer fiercely, at the same time reaching down a hand to brush over the front of Raphael's robe, squeezing lightly the bulge he found there. Then he took the hand a bit higher, trying to open the light cord on Raphael's waist first and finally just impatiently wishing it open, allowing it to drop down to the floor. Then he grasped the robe with both hands and started to gather the fabric into his hands, pulling it up, eager to expose what was hidden underneath.

Raphael gasped as Mictain toyed with him and decided to expedite the process by simply miracling the robe off his body and onto the floor. Sheets and pillows were everywhere and he slid away from the demon and lept playfully on to them and the mattress.

"Come on," he said, covering himself with a pillow and beckoning in a teasing fashion. "Don't you want to have fun?"

Now, Mictain smirked broadly. Raphael looked simply delicious, lying there on the bed with only a pillow covering him. "Fun? Now, that sounds like a fairly good idea," he purred, walking slowly towards the bed. Once there he settled down onto the mattres, leaning over Raphael. He did no move to even touch the pillow -- however much he wanted to -- but instead ran a hand over Raphael's chest, teasing his nipples, at the same time placing tiny kisses all over the angel's neck and jawline.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, tangling his other hand into the angel's shiny hair.

"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."