Undivided attention
Love and Deepspace - Rafayel x Reader
A/N: Sorry for making you wait this much, @ppystkposts, and thank you for the patience! While this is more of an art trade than a comm, you were still an amazing client and I had a blast working on this piece for you!
Also, shout out and kudos to @/ticklygiggles for beta reading this monstrosity of a fic for me!
Summary: Something happened and made Rafayel upset at you. The problem? You don't even know what it is!
Word count: 5137 words
[Also on Ao3]
Friday, 6 p.m.
You couldn’t recall the last time a shift took this long to end. Maybe you were just excited for this weekend - you had a lot planned, after all - but you couldn’t help but wonder if those boring reports were totally free of any guilt.
“I’m sooo tired,” Tara whined, standing by your side in the changing room. You giggled, opening your own locker while listening to her rambling. “If I see a single more wanderer, I swear!”
“Well, there could always be an emergency call,” you teased, holding back a chuckle when you heard Tara groan.
“Nooo, don’t say that!” She pouted, throwing you a deadly glare before continuing to change her clothes, “I need at least a week- no, a month without seeing those things after today!”
“Two days is the best captain Jenna can grant you. Take or leave it,” you smiled at her, but she had a good point there. A week off sounded like heaven right now. Still, who were you to refuse two days off work?
With your uniform carelessly tossed into a bag, you kept yourself busy buttoning up your shirt, looking down at that trail as one stubborn button refused to get into place.
Just as you were about to get it in, something else captured your attention and drove your eyes elsewhere.
“So, any plans for the weekend?” Tara hummed, breaking the silence. She sat on the bench behind you, changing her uniform skirt for some casual jeans. “It’s been a while since we went out together ~”
“I can’t,” you mumbled back, already lowering your head to focus on your previous task and starting from ground zero again. “Me and Raf-”
“Uuugh,” she interrupted, resting her elbows on her thighs and her head on her hands. She pouted, looking at you with a judgemental side-eye. “Guess the mr. perfect got to you before me, again.”
“Hey,” you snapped, finishing your shirt before turning to her with an arched eyebrow, “that wasn’t very nice of you.”
“You’re not being very nice either. What happened to ‘chicks before dic-’”
“Don’t you dare finish that!” You pointed at her, frowning.
“But ever since you two started dating we never hung together again!” Tara crossed her arms and stomped her feet, clearly upset with being demoted to the B-plan for your weekends. “We are barely friends at this point… I should just invite someone else for my super-awesome-weekend schedule.”
“Aw, Tara…” You cooed, dropping yourself on the bench right next to her. You placed your hand on her thigh, cocking your head to the side to try to get a look at her face. “But we are friends, Rafayel isn’t changing that.”
Tara promptly ignored your approach, turning her face away and letting a small ‘humph’ sound. “That’s not what it looks like.”
“It’s- it’s important for him this time, I swear!” You whined, shaking her leg a bit to emphasize your words. “You’re making a villain out of me, we were together the whole week!”
“We were working together the whole week, it’s different!”
It was like pushing against an immovable wall. An immovable, cold and extremely annoyed wall. Were you really that bad of a friend? Or was Tara just being extra dramatic this time? Some seconds went by as you gave it some thought and decided that you couldn’t let yourself be treated like this.
She wanted to ignore you? Well, you’d like to see her try, then.
“Taraaaa ~” You called for her again, almost singing her name this time. You lifted your palm from her thigh, letting the tip of your fingers brush against her leg and up to her waist. Her leg twitched as soon as you prodded at the spot near her hip. “Are you really mad at me? You’re not, right?”
“S-stop it! I’m nohot in the mood fohohor your stupihid games!”
She was quick to respond to your mischievous touch - as expected of a hunter, after all. Tara’s hand latched onto your wrist, promptly trying to dislodge your hand from her body. Her grip was strong, but it wouldn’t be your first time overpowering her in moments like this. “But I don’t want my best friend mad at me ~”
“Thehen you shohould be a behehetter friend! A-ahagh, enohough!” She giggled angrily, turning her body around to push you away with her other hand. She had that crooked, yet cute smile on her lips and you could only grin back at her.
With her hand pressing against your cheek, you reached for her other side as well and quickly wiggled your fingers against it, dragging your nails over the clothed skin. “Taraaa ~ don’t be mad! Forgive me, please? I swear I’ll stop if you do!”
She let out a groan - or was it a squeal? Whatever it was, it was clearly a result of your efforts. “You dohOHon’t deseheherve my fohohorgiveness!” She hissed, even trying to bring her knees up and curl herself into a ball to escape from your apologetic tickles. Fruitless, of course.
Before you could take note of it, Tara had her back laid on the bench and you on top of her, straddling one of her legs while both your hands tickled her restlessly.
So far, she had already punched your arms at least five times and pushed your thrice. There were also two attempts to tickle you back, but she couldn’t keep her hands lifted for long enough to actually make it work. Tara was already laughing her heart out, but her anger seemed to have a better endurance than her this time.
“Come on, I’m going to be late at this rate!” You teased her, your thumbs drilling into her lower ribs, “if I take too long, Rafayel might ask me for another date!”
“ThehEHEhen gohoho kihihiss your duhuhumb bohOHOho- boyyfriehehend!” She snapped, her heel hitting the bench behind you and making the whole thing shake a little. You furrowed your brows, just how stubborn could she be? You already lost count of how many times you apologized!
Just as you were about to take some drastic, but much needed measures, someone else’s voice broke into the room’s chaos. It was gentle, but there was some lingering annoyance and arrogance on it, almost as if it carried some sort of superiority - or as if its owner believed so.
“Is now not a good time, ladies?” Rafayel mocked, leaning against a nearby wall and crossing his arms, stuck-up. He stared at the scene while you slid off Tara’s lap, making room for her to sit back up.
You and her exchanged looks, a mistake on your part as now you felt yourself being judged by both parties. Still, Tara seemed a bit more convinced. She rolled her eyes, giving you a soft smile. “Hi, Rafayel. We were just about to go out.”
“Oh, I could tell,” he nodded, letting out a small sigh of disbelief at Tara’s attempt of explaining the situation, “I assume you two just got distracted, then.”
“Heeeey,” you interrupted, getting yourself between them and walking towards Rafayel. You cornered him against the wall, giving that angry frown a kiss before looking up to him, “I’m sorry for leaving you waiting, ok? No need to get feisty.”
You stepped back, trying to see if the whole picture was looking any better after your attempt of making peace with the angry boyfriend. “I’m almost done changing, see? Just give me a moment and I’ll be outside, ‘kay?” You explained while you pushed him out of the room. Noticing how Rafayel made no effort to resist it, you assumed he wasn’t as mad anymore.
When you walked back into the changing room, Tara was already standing before her locker. She brushed her index finger over her lip, applying some balm on it. “I didn’t mean to make you two fight,” she muttered, shyly looking at you.
“Fight? Pfft, as if,” you shook your head, doing your hair and then slamming your locker’s door close. “We never fight, like- we are such a dream couple, you know?” She giggled, shaking her head. “I will make it up to you, ok? Lunch for a week, my treat!”
“Fine, I take it, then,” Tara nodded, hugging you goodbye before walking past you and towards the exit, “enjoy your weekend! And…” she stopped, looking at something outside the room before moving her eyes back to you, “good luck.”
You raised your eyebrow, confused, but shrugged it off. There was no time to really worry about that now, was there?
As you walked outside, Rafayel was the first thing you spotted. “Did I make you wait for long?” You asked sweetly, trying to work your charms on him.
“You did,” he answered coldly, stubbornly refusing to take your hand for the first few tries before finally giving in. “I was about to drive back home without you.”
“I know you wouldn’t dare,” you teased him, giving him some of your affection by force. You wrapped your arms around his, letting Rafayel guide the way to the parking lot, “ohh, are you driving by yourself this time? Or is there a driver waiting for us?” You chirped with excitement, tugging at his arm while trying to get a look at his face.
The only thing you could see, however, was a frown. Thinking about it, he didn’t really say anything ever since you two left the main building - he wasn’t even holding you back!
“Rafayel?” You called again once there was no response in a good while, “I'm talking to you,” you mumbled, narrowing your eyes. You could hear a sigh before Rafayel threw a glance over you, acknowledging your words but still refusing to answer your call.
He shook his arm off your grip, taking a few steps to increase the distance between you two. You were about to throw your purse at his head, but noticed how he turned around and got in the car by the door on the other side. Tsk, what’s with that attitude? “If you are going to treat me like that, I’m canceling our plans,” you threatened, almost as if infected by his annoyance after being exposed to it.
“Sorry, I’m just with something else in mind,” Rafayel replied shortly, drily, almost as if to fulfill some sort of protocol. He took the driver’s seat, fastening the seat belt and quickly getting his hands on the steering wheel.
You huffed, not believing his excuse. “And what is it, then?”
“...Forget it,” he mumbled, stepping on the gas pedal and looking at the mirrors and then around the car. Pretty much anything but you.
It was helpless, you thought, leaning back into your seat and resting your head on it. You felt the inertia hit you as he speeded out of the parking lot, entertaining yourself with the landscape changing outside the window.
You could hear the motor’s gears purring, his fingers fiddling with the wheel and AC blowing inside the car. It was just this quiet, after all. The kind of silence you could only hear around Rafayel when he was sad or angry - or both. Still, why?!
You were upset that you made him upset and even more that you couldn’t figure it out.
Your mind went through all your important dates together - first kiss, anniversary, colleagues’ meetings - you didn’t miss a single one.
You tried to think of details you could’ve missed - a new haircut, new clothes, a gift he bought for you, some picture he shared online and you forgot to like - but were any of those serious enough to make him mad? Or, better saying, to make him this mad?
You rested your chin on top of your hand, staring at some unknown distance. In the window, you could also see Rafayel’s reflection faintly, translucent. It was still clear enough, however, for you to see a pout on his lips. You stroked his image on the cheek with your index finger, feeling like the worst partner in the world for making him feel like that.
Before you could spiral into any other sad or worried thought, your body gently swung forward and then back into the seat. You blinked, taking notice of your surroundings again and having your eyes met with a familiar scenery: his home.
“What are you doing?” Rafayel asked, not as sweetly as you wished for. You looked up to the reflection, already spotting the features of confusion on his face that you’d meet as soon as you turned around.
“Distracting myself,” you mumbled, your hand leaving the window to reach for the seatbelt’s buckle, unlocking it and freeing yourself. “Nothing to worry abou- Rafayel?”
Now it was your turn to be confused at his actions. Your hand rested on top of the door handle, shaking it just to find that it was still locked. Rafayel stared at you, his lips quivering as if something was about to burst out of them.
But no, it didn’t.
“I… I forgot to unlock it, sorry,” he answered sheepishly, pressing a button near the steering wheel and making a firm, perceptive ‘click’ sound echo inside the car. “Let’s go,” he added, stepping out of the vehicle without looking back this time.
You sighed as soon as the sound of his door closing shut reached your ears, now being kept inside the car by something else other than a locked door: hesitation.
It’s been at least half an hour since you clocked out of work and you still had no idea what you could possibly do to make up for him. You didn’t even know what you’re supposed to make up for, after all. Blindly apologizing would probably make things worse and, truth to be told, was there anything to apologize for?
You shook your head, taking one last breath to prepare yourself for what would be the start of a long weekend together. If you two made up tonight, you’d still have two days to enjoy each other’s company - you told yourself, trying to look at the brighter side and keep a positive view of this mess.
You lifted your chin from the moment you stepped out of the car to when you met him before his front door. Rafayel still had that blank, emotionless facade that seemed to work as a disguise for a frustrated one.
Silently, he looked down to his keys, opening the door and stepping aside to make way for you to walk in. The living room had that familiar mess that you grew accustomed to. Paintbrushes, canvas, paintings and sketches scattered around from the corner where he usually worked to the part “spared” for welcoming the guests. One would certainly be taken back by the sight - like you once did - but this was nothing but an everyday sight at this point.
“Did you start a new project?” You hummed, kneeling by some discarded pages and checking the sketches on them. As if trying to find a sense behind that mess, you started to tell some similarities between the drawings on each page, as if Rafayel was getting closer to a final product. “Is it a flower? Are you painting a bouquet this time?”
“Not really, just experimenting,” the answer came from the distance as he stopped by the door for a moment. You heard his footsteps approaching and then lifted your head to see him walk past you, straight to the couch on the other side of the large living room. “I don’t really want to talk about work right now…”
“Then let’s talk about something else,” you followed him, your eyes fixed on his figure, “like why you seem upset that I’m here.”
Rafayel looked at you with widened, worried eyes. It was probably the first time he did it in a good while, you thought. “What? Nonsense, why would I be upset at that?” He asked defensively, frowning at the accusation even. “I waited the whole week for this!”
“But that’s not what it looks like,” you retorted, further closing the distance between you two like a predator cornering its prey, “it feels like you’re avoiding me, like you’re spending time with me just because you need to, not because you want it,” you sighed, frustrated, “are you angry? Did I mess up?”
You could see him flinch, realisation over something you were still now aware of dawning on him. “...no, I’m not angry. It’s nothin-”
“Rafayel!” You groaned, sitting back up straight, “so you are ignoring me over nothing? Treating me like that just because?!”
“N-no! That’s not it!”
“Then what is it?!”
He froze in place, his mouth hanging agape like he was choking on the unsaid words. You could tell he was nearly opening up to you, but still stubbornly refusing to do so. “Then what is it, Rafayel?”
“N-nothing, forget it.” He insisted, averting his gaze. “I… I think I will go take a bath an- w-woah!”
“Nuh uh,” you grabbed his wrist and pulled him back down into the couch before he could stand on his feet again, “you’re not going anywhere until we solve this mess.”
“T-there is no mess to solve! It’s all right, ok? Let go!” He cried, shaking his arm, but your hand seemed to be glued to his wrist. You crawled closer to him, making him lean away in hesitation - or fear, one of those.
“I will let go if you tell me what’s wrong.” You weren't going to back down, not when you had him right there. You both were adults and both should know that talking things out is the best way to come to peace with them. “Speak, Rafayel.”
“I-I don’t wanna!” He hissed, already leaning on his side and probably considering the idea of kicking you off the couch. Well, no one can say you didn’t try to solve this like an adult. “H-hey, what are you- ahH!”
With a swift, quick move, you pushed the wrist inside your grip up and pinned it against the couch. Before he could squirm or run away, you straddled his thighs, using your own weight to keep them in place. A strong shade of red started to taint Rafayel’s skin - from his neck up to the tip of his ears - and he looked back and forth between your hand, your face and your body.
“W-what are you doing?!”
“Trying to solve our problems like a kid, since you don’t want to do it like adults do.”
Those words only started to make sense to Rafayel when you got into action. Your free hand quickly assaulted his exposed underarm with rapid, aimless tickles, scratching and tracing random shapes over the clothed skin.
While you couldn’t tell what was going on inside his head, you could always count on how ticklish Rafayel was to get him to do what you wanted - most of the time, at least. You grinned down at his dumb, desperate smile while you shifted your attention to his ribs, your fingers drumming at them like they were some sort of instrument.
“S-StahAHAhahp ihihit!” He whined, arching his back and pressing his head into the couch. He swatted at your hand with his free one, but it wasn’t close to enough to make you stop. “Gehehet ohohoff me n-now! Or I wihill be vehery angr- aHAHA W-WAHAHaahait!! Nohohot thehEHEhere! PleHEHease! ~”
“Only if you want to talk about it, Rafayel,” you said with minimal-to-no-effort in making your words clear through the laughter echoing in his living room. Still, something about him whining under your fingers made you believe that the message was successfully delivered.
Seconds went by and Rafayel remained silent - silent as in not talking, because he was sure being loud. “Well, suit yourself,” you hummed teasingly, latching your hand onto his hip and letting your thumb drill into the sensitive spot.
Rafayel thrashed his head, his cheeks getting redder from a mix of laughter, anger and embarrassment. He squirmed and wriggled his body as much as he could, moving like a worm in a hook while you continued to pinch and squeeze his hip. “AhAHAHah, q-quihIhihit it, meheheanie!”
“Are you going to talk to me if I do?”
“I-I sahAHAhaid I don’t w-wahahanna tahAHAhalk!!”
“Then keep laughing, at least you’re not frowning at me like this,” you groaned, slapping that pesky hand that tried to protect him away and letting all your frustration out as a merciless, restless tickle assault.
You pressed down at his pinned wrist, making sure it wasn’t going anywhere, and raked your nails around Rafayel’s stomach, clawing just below the belly button, then spidering your fingers up and down his sides. You couldn’t help but chuckle at how weak his tugging at your arm was, drained of any strength to actually pry the assaulting hand away. He was struggling.
“I know you can’t take much more,” you teased, rapidly poking around his abdomen over and over, pinpointing one nerve at the other, “and so do you, right?”
“I-I hahAHahate yohohou!” He cried dramatically and, while part of you decided to tickle him to death and put him out of his misery, you opted for the peaceful approach and gave him another chance. “Y-yohou ahare t-the wohorst bodyguard! In t-the whole world!”
“And because of that you decided to mistreat me all day? Because I suck at being your bodyguard?” You scoffed, sitting back on his lap and crossing your arms.
But while this all seemed like a senseless and light matter to you now, your words acted like fuel to the fire inside him. You could see something inside him snap as he clenched his jaw, his breathing sharpening for a moment.
“No, you- you dumbhead! Because you do this to everyone!” He gasped, panting for a second before his lips turned into a pout. “I- I saw you with your- ugh, your coworker today. I thought I was special, but I’m just another one to you…”
What.
You couldn’t even hold your pose as something beyond confusion struck your brain like thunder in a roaring storm. “I do… this to everyone..?” You repeated to yourself, trying to find some sense in those words. Did what, exactly?
You looked down, to him and then to your hands that were hanging near your body. Then it dawned on you: the reason behind his attitude, his anger. He was “...jealous? Because I… tickled my friend?” You muttered, your voice tainted with uncertainty.
Any doubts, however, vanished when you saw Rafayel’s face lighting up in red like a firework exploding in the sky.
His lips quivered, trembled, and even as strangled noises made it past his throat, no actual words came out. He was stunned, baffled by your conclusion and, worse, by his own demands. Rafayel realized a tad too late what he had done, to what kind of thought he gave voice, and he couldn’t even start to think of a way to deal with the consequences.
While you, on the other hand, couldn’t tell what happened inside his head, his face told you everything you needed to know and more, like an open book just before your eyes. “Did I guess it right?” You broke the awkward silence and saw the moment a shiver ran up his spine like a wave crashing against the coast.
“N-no!” He cried, pawing at your legs while you let your weight sit on his lap. He kicked his feet behind you, throwing a little tantrum while rambling something about being misunderstood. “You g-got it totally wrong! I-It’s all wrong!”
“Is that so? Then what did you mean by that, then?” You grinned down at him, finally connecting all the pieces of a whole evening getting the silent treatment. To think he would feel jealous of Tara of all people - how amusing. “Are you saying I did something indecent with my coworker? Implying that I’m a chea-”
“That’s not it either, you- ugh, you’re such a thickhead at times!” He laid back, dramatically gasping and then pressing both hands over his face, almost as if to try to hide it. “How come you solve crimes and I still need to explain everything to you?”
“But you don’t,” you grabbed both his wrists, forcing them to the side and off your way. You towered over him, pinning his hands by the sides of his head staring straight into his eyes. “I have you figured out, Rafayel.”
“...You totally don’t,” he puffed out his cheeks, still trying to play it in denial.
“I totally do, though. My little fishie wants to be tickled, right?” You chuckled, letting go of one of his hands to trace his jawline with your index finger.
“Y-you’re wrong! Awfully wrong!” He gasped after leaving his mouth hanging for a second or two. You could see his muscles tensing, yearning, anticipating something. He pressed his lips into a thin line and clenched his hands into fists, keeping them still at where you left them.
Well… “heh,” you scoffed, your hands moving to his shoulders, giving them a squeeze as if to ease the tension, “don’t worry, I get it now.”
“You don’t get it at ahAH- AHaha, w-wahAHAIT!! I wahAHAhasn’t reheheady!” Rafayel laughed, he crumbled into a hot mess of giggles and squeals before he could even take notice of what you were doing or of what was happening around him.
You nestled your hands by the sides of his chest, digging and tickling each and every single one of his ribs as thoroughly as possible, playing with every inch of skin you couch told and milking every cackle out of his throat. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to do much”, you hummed, seeing him arch his back with a renewed fit of laughter as you switched to his sides, “just keep looking cute and laughing for me, yes?”
Rafayel whined, shaking his head left and right, but you couldn’t really hear a protest coming from his mouth, only that sweet, melodic laughter with a pinch of desperation. You smiled down, allowing him to hold onto your wrists while you tickled his stomach and hips, alternating between them from time to time.
You wiggled your fingers over the thin, delicate shirt and it was just enough to make him giggle; you pressed and poked one of the wrinkles caused by his squirming and he would flail his arms and legs; and when all this moving around riled up his shirt, you scratched the revealed skin, making the cutest sounds burst out of him.
He pulled at your hands, his shaky fingers closing around your wrists or around your palm in a vain attempt of being at least an obstacle in your way. Rafayel flashed you with a wide, panicked grin as he watched your hands sneak back under his arms before he threw his head back into the couch. You could see his chest waving, the deep gasps to let air fill his lungs before burning all that stored-up energy into cries full of mirth. What a sight to behold.
You couldn’t help but find yourself lost at the mesmerizing sight, intoxicated by his laughter, by the sound of his pleas, by the feeling of his hands clinging to you and the squirming of his body under you.
His hair was already sticking to his forehead and some damp spots were starting to appear in his shirt - around his chest, shoulders, down to his sides and even some under his arm, where your hands would travel back from time to time to tickle him again. Rafayel was starting to look at a mess but, at the same time, this was the prettiest he ever looked to you.
“Stop fighting it,” you said playfully, as if he ever succeeded in putting up a battle against you, as if he ever stood a chance in your game, “you clearly won’t be able to take it if I have to tie you up.”
He whined again, but soon continued to laugh like a helpless idiot. Something about having him like this was mixing up the wires inside your brain, making the gears in your head turn rapidly. You knew you promised that you’d give it to him to his heart’s content, but if this went on for much longer, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to stop yourself.
Rafayel was just a pillow princess at this point. He laid back on the couch, holding onto your hands with just enough strength to pick up a sheet of paper, and let you do all the hard work while he laughed. He laughed, laughed and laughed even more. You wondered what could be going on inside his head or if there was anything happening in there at all.
But the one thing you did know was that… he looked happy. “Had enough yet, baby?” You sighed, watching the dazed, lost look on his face as if you had shut off his brain somehow. “Are you feeling ok?”
He giggled, wasted. It took him three to five business days to lower his head and look up at your face. Your hands rested on top of his chest, feeling the rapid beating of his hardworking heart that seemed to be just about to explode. Well, he certainly did look like he was doing fine, you thought. And so were you, after all, his heart was beating like that for you, because of you.
You smiled, leaning closer and closer until the tip of your nose brushed against his. You nuzzled against his cheek before dragged your lips over Rafayel’s, kissing it briefly as you muttered your words. “I’m sorry, Rafayel, I think I now understand how you feel,” you gasped, kissing him again.
He let out a small, confused groan into your mouth. His hands weakly pushed at your shoulder while he turned his head to the side to try to dislodge out of your kiss and breathe again. He looked at you with the corner of his eyes, expectation gleaming inside them.
“I will only tickle you for now on, ok? You won’t have to share it with anyone else ever again, fishie,” you giggled, your face inches away from his before you leaned in again to steal another kiss.
“N-not… just tickling,” he gasped, his chin pressing down towards his chest as he looked at you with puppy-like eyes, “anything special… I want to be the only one to do those with you.”
“You have my word,” you nodded, laying your head on his shoulder and somehow getting your arms around him to pull Rafayel into a hug. “Are you still mad at me?”
“No… not anymore,” he chuckled, letting out a content sigh as his body was finally able to catch some rest. That would be the start of a long, but precious weekend.
