Heal my broken Saphael heart with a 50, pretty please? Or not, it's fine anyway ❤️
for you my darling i would gladly write saphael. set in a mundane college au, because i ain’t dealing with the mess that is raphael in the canon sh world
send me a ship and a kiss prompt from this list!
50. out of love
It’s not every day that Simon gets to see Raphael score the winning goal of their college’s lacrosse team’s championship, so he feels like he can probably be forgiven for falling out of the stands in his excitement and hitting his head. And pretty much splitting his forehead open. And getting blood all over Raphael’s car as he drove Simon to emergency care. And needing stitches, and making his boyfriend miss the after-party.
“You’re forgiven for exactly none of those things,” Raphael informs him, and then when the nurse on duty finishes checking on his stitches and gives Raphael a cold look, Raphael unconvincingly adds “Darling” and hastily presses a kiss to the corner of Simon’s mouth.
“Worth a shot,” Simon says, smiling tiredly. The nurse leaves, and the tension in Raphael’s shoulders seems to leave in a rush, as he sighs and leans into Simon, his hands sweeping over Simon’s face while carefully avoiding the stitches. Raphael isn’t a fan of being open about their relationship even under normal circumstances in front of their closest friends, so Simon’s not surprised that he’s on edge. But no one’s here now, and Raphael’s face crumples, his eyes miserable.
“You worried me so much,” he says quietly, his voice rough and lower than usual, “I just - there was so much blood. I wish you’d just been a little more careful.”
“I know,” Simon says, reaching for Raphael’s hand and threading their fingers together. “I just got really excited. You were so good out there, just this short, angry ball of raw power - “
“One inch, Simon, I am one inch shorter - “
“There is definitely a sex joke somewhere in there,” Simon grins fully now, and Raphael gives him a tired smile in return. His gaze shifts, and he raises his fingers to trace the skin just around the edge of the cut.
“Are you in any pain?” he asks, and it’s a gentle question. Simon exhales, exhaustion seeping into every bone of his body as the events of the past few hours begin to catch up with him.
“A little, yeah,” he admits. Raphael frowns, cupping Simon’s face with his hands.
“Let’s get you back to your place, and you can take some painkillers and eat something and then sleep, okay?” He leans forward and presses a kiss to Simon’s lips, languid and soft, and Simon melts into the touch.
“Thank you,” he mutters. Raphael sighs.
“I’m sorry about earlier,” he says, “I - you know I don’t care about the blood in my car or the party or any of that - “
“Raphael - “
“Simon, I only really care about you,” Raphael says firmly, and Simon’s heart does cartwheels in his chest. “You’re - “
Raphael doesn’t finish, and instead he kisses Simon again, unbearably gentle, the same way he first did when he told Simon he loved him. Simon clutches Raphael close, and finishes the sentence silently in his head. You’re more important to me than I know what to do with. You’re my everything. You’re my first real love.
Somehow, the kiss says it all anyway.
