Rafayel, light-hearted slice of life, short, hair gets caught in button trope ✨
It is one of Rafayel’s busiest art galas of the year.
The gallery is crowded, and somehow that results in some strands of your hair thoroughly getting caught and tangled around one of the buttons on his shirt.
Rafayel looks down, noticing your predicament, and his eyes light up. “Oh, I’ve seen this one before—”
He doesn't even finish the sentence. His hand moves with the intent to rip the button right off his shirt.
You see his move before he can finish it, clamping your hand firmly over his wrist.
You narrow your eyes at him.
“You will not do that.”
Rafayel's chin tilts up, an amused challenge in his eyes. “What do you suggest we do then, Miss Bodyguard?”
Without answering, your free hand quickly reaches over in an attempt to break your hair.
You don't get far. His other hand immediately clamps down on your wrist.
He narrows his eyes at you.
“You will not do that.”
Now you two are in a standoff, locking each other’s wrists, glaring at each other in a stalemate.
"Are you stupid?"
"No, you are stupid."
“Um… what are you two doing?” Thomas asks, as he wanders past dealing with gala logistics. He looks at the awkward position you two are locked in. “Do you need help?”
“No!” you both snap at the same time, shooting Thomas an identical glare without breaking your grip on each other.
“Ok I was just asking…”
Legend has it that you two are stuck like that to this day.
The sea breeze from the gala venue catches the edge of my tailored suit jacket, but it’s your words that actually make me halt in my tracks.
My classic smirk slowly returns, though I can feel a faint, telltale flush creeping up my neck to my ears. I cross my arms, leaning back slightly with a dramatic sigh. “Oh? Just today?” I take a deliberate step closer to you.
“And here I thought my brilliant bodyguard was supposed to be scanning the crowd for danger, not spending the entire evening admiring the view. If you wanted an excuse to stare, you could have just asked for a private viewing. I don't charge that much for my favorite person.”
I step even closer and reach out, my fingers lightly brushing against yours. “But since you brought it up... you don't look too bad yourself tonight. In fact, you're a total distraction. How am I supposed to behave like a proper, respectable artist when you're saying things like that right next to the car?”
It doesn’t escape your attention that Rafayel is slightly blushing even though he is acting so nonchalantly.
Oh good, you have a chance.
You try to ignore the fact his fingers are brushing against yours for a moment.
“Umhm how can I help it if someone is just so dashingly good looking? But don’t worry, I take my job as bodyguard very seriously. I only stare on my.. off duty time.” you slowly tilt your head for a dangerous smile. “I appreciate the compliment, Rafayel, but my dazzle dims against yours. Has anyone ever told you that you have absolutely beautiful eyes?”
I stop leaning back, my crossed arms dropping to my sides as my eyes widen all over again. That faint flush on my neck? It instantly rushes right up to my cheeks.
“You…” I clear my throat, looking away toward the sea for a split second to try and catch my breath, though my fingers don't pull away from yours.
“Hey. That's cheating,” I murmur. “You can't just... say things like that with a straight face, yeah? Who taught you how to do that? Was it one of those hunter training videos?” My gaze drops to your lips before moving back up to your eyes.
“If you keep staring at me like that on your 'off-duty time,' I might actually have to start charging you,” I whisper as I gently, finally, loop my fingers through yours. “And trust me... the price for my heart is very expensive. Are you sure you can afford it, Miss Bodyguard?”
It almost feels like there is a hesitancy in the way his fingers touch yours, something lingering, something left unsaid.
You can hear your own heartbeat louder than it should be, but you gently circle your thumb against the back of his hand in response.
“I expected you to be.. expensive. A hunter’s salary is not that high, I might not be able to afford you.” You murmur back to him, a small hint of playfulness still in your voice.
“But your heart…”
You slowly raise your other hand to rest your palm against his slightly warm face, looking directly into his eyes, unwavering, without reservations.
"If you choose to give it to me,” you whisper, “I will guard it with my life. It will be forever safe with me.”
There is only one seat left on the crowded bus. Right beside a remarkably good looking guy who is looking out the window, chin casually resting in his hand, listening to something through a pair of classic wired earbuds plugged into a small music player.
As you slide into the empty seat, he turns his head and catches you staring.
Mortified, you are about to look away, but he smiles at you, takes one of the earbuds from his ear and offers it to you.
Overcome by pure curiosity, you take it. A soft, romantic melody immediately fills your ear, drawing you into his world as the noise on the bus suddenly fades away.
It is a nice, quiet shared moment with a stranger, but before you realize it, the bus comes to a stop and he stands up, the wire tugging gently between you.
“This is my stop,” his voice is just as nice as you imagined it would be, maybe even nicer. He looks down at you, his eyes smiling. “You can finish listening to it.”
Before you can process, he puts his other earbud into your other ear, slides the music player into your hands, and steps off the bus.
“Wait, how do I—” You start, looking out the glass window as the bus doors shut. He has already disappeared into the moving crowd.
Rafayel monologue, Floral Promise derived, very short
As I touch your face,
I feel the feeling of falling.
I am pulled in, intoxicated, drunk, on the sweetness of affection soaring in from the bond that has been silent for so long from your side.
This warmth of affection, devotion… love.
Wave after wave, stronger and stronger, unbeknownst to yourself.
Like the rushing in of the tide, breaking down barriers that are meant to stop it from taking everything.
I can barely hold it together, nor do I want to.
Your lip is soft, deceiving. I know what's underneath it is something that would burn and consume me.
The sea breeze from the gala venue catches the edge of my tailored suit jacket, but it’s your words that actually make me halt in my tracks.
My classic smirk slowly returns, though I can feel a faint, telltale flush creeping up my neck to my ears. I cross my arms, leaning back slightly with a dramatic sigh. “Oh? Just today?” I take a deliberate step closer to you.
“And here I thought my brilliant bodyguard was supposed to be scanning the crowd for danger, not spending the entire evening admiring the view. If you wanted an excuse to stare, you could have just asked for a private viewing. I don't charge that much for my favorite person.”
I step even closer and reach out, my fingers lightly brushing against yours. “But since you brought it up... you don't look too bad yourself tonight. In fact, you're a total distraction. How am I supposed to behave like a proper, respectable artist when you're saying things like that right next to the car?”
It doesn’t escape your attention that Rafayel is slightly blushing even though he is acting so nonchalantly.
Oh good, you have a chance.
You try to ignore the fact his fingers are brushing against yours for a moment.
“Umhm how can I help it if someone is just so dashingly good looking? But don’t worry, I take my job as bodyguard very seriously. I only stare on my.. off duty time.” you slowly tilt your head for a dangerous smile. “I appreciate the compliment, Rafayel, but my dazzle dims against yours. Has anyone ever told you that you have absolutely beautiful eyes?”
When he wants to hide it, it is very hard to tell how Rafayel is actually feeling.
You watch him paint. There is something slightly off about him today that you can't quite put your finger on yet. So you stare even more intensely. Nothing will escape your eyes, you think to yourself, this is on your Hunter’s honor.
“Cutie…” Rafayel finally murmurs, his voice a little strained as he keeps his eyes fixed on the canvas. “Can you, like… stop staring at me so hard?”
You light up. There is your tell.
Rafayel telling you to stop staring at him? What a mistake he made.
You swiftly get up from the couch. He sees it.
“Wait…” he protests weakly.
Before he can say another word, you are already at his side, snatching his paintbrush away from him.
“That's enough of that today,” you declare. “It's time for rest, hydration, food…”
You further step in between him and his easel.
“Do I need to move you, or will you move for me?” You smile at him both harmlessly and dangerously at the same time.
“I just need—”
You narrow your eyes.
“Ok, fine…” He relents, pushing himself up from his stool, but as he stands, he stumbles just a tiny bit.
You both pause.
You frown and cross your arms, giving him a flat expectant look that says explain yourself.
He sighs, but a small sheepish smile surfaces on his face as he finally admits defeat. “Ok, ok. I do have a slight headache.”
“Uh-huh.”
He steps closer, finally letting the exhaustion show on his face, though a familiar spark of mischief still in his eyes. He leans in slightly, tilting his head. “Accompany me for a bath?”
Unlike your usual self, who always checks in with Rafayel in case you might disturb his time in any way, shape, or form (even though he has told you a million times it doesn't matter), today, you charge into his studio unannounced like a whirlwind.
“Yes, cutie?”
If Rafayel is shocked, he doesn't let it show. Sitting in front of his canvas, paintbrush halted in mid-air, his attention is turned to you completely.
You pause. For a moment you don't know what to do with yourself.
What are you doing? you ask yourself. But you really need this.
“Rafayel… Tell me everything is going to be ok.”
He takes a good, long look at you. Disheveled, unsteady, seemingly holding it together but clearly fraying at the edges. There is a low, droning restlessness running through your veins that you don’t want to admit.
“…Slow down, cutie.” He gestures for you to get closer to him. “Come over here first.”
You hesitate. The adrenaline and nervous hum still feel hot, sharp, and burning against your skin. It feels like you will ruin the quiet peace that exists between him and his canvas.
"Come on, cutie." He tilts his head and extends his hand towards you, palm open and waiting, coaxing you.
You fold immediately and beeline to him like a defeated, skittish little animal escaping to a safe and familiar shelter.
He pulls you into his arms and cuddles you into his lap, setting you down between him and the canvas. You hide your face in the crook of his neck. One of his hands is gently caressing your hair, while his other arm is wrapped tightly around your waist, his head resting against yours.
“Now… Breathe with me, yeah?”
His voice is calm and steady. You close your eyes and lean into him, listening to his breathing and following it delicately, feeling the rise and fall of his chest.
His breathing, you think, kind of sounds like the ocean. Calm, vast, steady… wave after wave… after wave.
His hand slowly moves from your hair to making slow, light circles around your temple. You sigh and relax into him even more, letting out a deep breath that you didn't know you were holding, your shoulders dropping with it.
He hums.
“Does it feel like it’s going to be ok now?”
You peek open your eyes a little to look into his beautiful gradient eyes peering down into yours.
AU Idol!Rafayel x Bodyguard!MC, Slow Burn, Epilogue
(see masterlist for past posts)
“We support Rafayel’s decision to follow his heart. While we are sad to see such a talent retire, we wish the couple nothing but happiness."
And just like that, you and Rafayel are free.
It only took like, a bombshell kiss on camera on the red carpet of one of the largest music awards events in the industry, but you know, details. Later on, Rafayel absolutely loves to joke about this.
The corporate fallout, shockingly, turned out to be not much at all. While it certainly is an industry-shaking crisis, Rafayel is also quite the strategist himself.
The overwhelming, universally positive public reaction to the sheer romance and the love story behind the moment leaves the label very little room to do anything but smile, publicly agree, and quietly settle behind the scenes.
As a farewell to the fans, Rafayel releases one final track before disappearing off the face of the earth. Coincidentally, it’s also a song that makes good on his promise that he would one day make you cry with a love song.
It’s a love song about growing old together.
Thomas looks remarkably pleased for a manager whose star artist just blew up the industry and news cycle.
“Leave a spot for me,” he jokes as the last of the details with the label are finalized. “Maybe I will retire there one day, too.”
“You are more than welcome to, friend,” Rafayel says, and you all know he means every single word of it.
Jenna, on the other hand, probably knew all along what’s going on just by looking at your face when you told her about not extending the contract.
“You have done more for this firm than you ever needed to. Nothing will be pursued. Go and be free.” She tilts her head, a rare playful smile on her face. “Don’t forget to invite me to the wedding.”
“Oh.” Just as you are about to step out of her office for the last time as her subordinate, she calls out to you. “And tell this to Rafayel for me.”
You look back. Jenna’s smile is ever so clear.
“Well played.”
—-
You wake up to the sound of the ocean.
For a moment, you lie still, letting it come to you slowly. The salt in the air, the light coming through unfamiliar, linen curtains, the particular quiet that only exists far from a city. You let these things fall on you, as you breathe in and let your eyes wander.
Rafayel, barely awake beside you in the tangles of blankets, turns over and pulls you into his arms.
"..Go back to sleep.. cutie." he mumbles, voice low and heavily mixed with sleep. His embrace is warm against the cool morning air, as he sleepily tugs the blanket higher to cover your exposed shoulder, holding you tight. The ocean outside continues to move steadily, indifferent to the fact that everything in your life has changed.
So this is what it feels like.
An ordinary, mundane morning, where nothing is happening, where there is nowhere to be but here, with him, his arms around you like you are his entire world.
You turn your head up to peer into Rafayel’s sleeping face, peaceful and unguarded.
You brush his hair slightly out of his face.
You can get used to this.
You press your face against his shoulder and close your eyes.
Outside, the ocean keeps rushing to the shore.
---------
masterlist
A/N: I have never written AU or something this long. I am very proud to have accomplished this. 😭 Thank you so much for your support of reading along to the end with me. I have many feelings about it. I loved writing every part, but I was also nervous posting every single one lol. So a special thank you for the encouragement in the form of comments, reblogis and likes! I went through many cycles of "I knew it, it was bad" to "oh maybe it wasn't that bad" lol. One day I might become a more confident writer, but it is not right now 😂 so thank you! I sincerely hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, with the journey from the beginning to the end. I will miss writing this a lot 🥲
AU Idol!Rafayel x Bodyguard!MC, Slow Burn, Finale
(see masterlist for past posts)
Maybe in another life?
Maybe in another life you two could be happy together.
You declined the contract extension.
What you were hired to do is done.
“There isn't anything more I need to do for the specialized placement. Everything is set up in place, it might be a little rough at the beginning, but he will be fine.”
Thomas looks at you like he wants to say something, but doesn't.
“I understand,” he says at the end.
Jenna, on the other hand, studies you for a long time. “I’m fine with it, but you and I should have a talk after this contract is over.”
You don't know if Rafayel knows or not. But he treats you with the same warmth. You are not sure if that's better or worse.
Rafayel will be ok. You tell yourself.
But will you be?
You are not sure, but you can always throw yourself into your next work.
Your heart is crying but you don't listen.
You didn't get to where you are now listening to what your heart has to say.
—-------
Time somehow seems to pass even faster when you know good things are coming to an end.
You count the moments, the way sunlight lands on his eyelashes, the way he falls asleep in the car after a long day, the way he performs and controls a stage.
“Today is my last day.”
Ironically, or unironically, your last day coincides with a massive, high-profile music awards event. The day is flying by at high speed, the tight schedule is almost helping you to forget. Almost.
You and Rafayel finally have a small moment of break in his dressing room, with just you and him.
He looks at you. It’s impossible to tell from his face if he knew or not. But there is no way he didn't already know.
He still hasn’t said anything.
“You will find someone one day.” After a long stretch of silence, you say quietly. “And the person will be incredibly lucky to have you.”
“…Why can’t that be you?” he finally asks, his voice raw, a low rasp that tears through the room.
It’s a question that you have been asking yourself. But in the end..
“…I don’t know.”
It’s the most honest answer you can give. You don’t know.
Another stretch of silence follows, until he slowly reaches out and places his hand on your cheek, his touch quietly tender, his eyes aching but sincere.
“Will you be going back to the life you want?”
“…I don’t have a choice. Just like how you don’t have a choice either, Rafayel.”
He pauses momentarily, something swimming deep in his eyes.
“You will find,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing your jawline, “that I am full of surprises.”
—-
Maybe you left a piece of your heart at the dock that day.
90 days, literal 24/7 together.
And then all of a sudden, you won't see them again except on the billboards, big screens, whispers of rumours and news cycle.
It's not the first time you have done this, in fact, you have done this so many times you have lost count.
Most times it's actually a relief. A few days to sleep like a normal human being. With no responsibilities, obligations, schedules, no watching behind your back over everything constantly.
Other times you feel indifferent. Maybe a little smile when they thank you before you leave.
But this time, you feel like you just might die.
You look at the broad of his back as you escort him out of the event over the crowded, noisy red carpet, people yelling his name, yelling for his attention, for a quick glance, a small smile.
Ninety days.
You stop a step behind him as he reaches the waiting limousine. This is the last escort, the time is past midnight, his new details are already inside the vehicle for him.
This is goodbye.
The door opens for him, but he stops. And he turns.
You see it in his eyes, the sheer, reckless defiance of what he is about to do.
And… you let him.
Against all the bright lights and cameras on the red carpet, his hand threaded in your hair, he crushes his lips into yours.
And for the first time since you can remember, you let your heart have what it wants.
You kiss him back.
—-----
You feel him shudder as he lets out a shaky breath. It's as if in that moment, the whole world was given to him.
AU Idol!Rafayel x Bodyguard!MC, Slow Burn (10 of 12)
(see masterlist for past posts)
It is an ordinary day when you finally admit to yourself.
That the way his eyes brighten up when he sees you makes your heart leap. That you look forward to the way his finger lingers over your hand just slightly longer than necessary when you give him his coffee in the morning. That you notice the way he takes his coffee and leans forward just a little, as if he wants to give you a kiss on the cheek. The way he gives a slight pause and smile before teasing you.
That one sudden summer rain, when you did have an umbrella, but only for him. And he made you stand under the umbrella with him, draping over you so your sides wouldn't get wet.
This is ridiculous, you told him then, I am your bodyguard not the other way around. And he just smiled at you saying let me have this one.
That you remember more details about him than anyone you have ever known.
That he has a particular smile that is reserved just for you.
He has made you smile. He has made you cry. He has made you laugh… He has made you feel safe.
He has you, despite yourself, wishing for more.
The summer is coming to an end, and you have fallen in love with Rafayel.
AU Idol!Rafayel x Bodyguard!MC, Slow Burn (9 of 12)
(see masterlist for past posts)
“We should go on a date.”
“We. What.”
“5am, let's go on a date.”
You look at him, unsure how to process.
Maybe it will help. Your mind whispers. Maybe you will be able to talk him out of it. Maybe.. It will be so bad it will change his mind.
You are just kidding yourself and you know it. Deep down, you know that his mind won’t be changed.
“How is that going to help with any of this?”
“It won't,” he shrugs but tilts his head and smirks at you, a thing that he does that you have come to realize that you can’t resist, “but let’s do it anyway.”
—--
Somehow he convinces you to let him drive. It’s a date, he says, spinning the car key on his finger tip, and I guarantee no tails.
So here you are, in the passenger seat, with Rafayel swerving onto a coastal backroad, the tires lightly squeaking. You have no idea where you are going, but somehow you are fine with that. The wind catching your hair, he can take you wherever he wants.
A weathered dock at the edge of a private marina is where you end up, the city asleep far behind you, the water black and still below. There is nobody here. Just the sound of the ocean, and Rafayel standing at the edge of the dock in an oversized hoodie, hands in his pockets, looking out at the water like he has all the time in the world.
He does have good taste in hiding spots.
"This is your idea of a date?" you say, lightly teasing.
"Don't you like it?"
You look around at the empty dock, the dark water, the sky just barely beginning to lighten at the edges. The moon is fading. You take a deep breath of the cold dawn air and feel the tension slowly leave your body.
"...I like it," you admit.
He turns to look at you, and there is something bright and dangerous in his eyes that you do not have time to interpret before he moves.
The tackle is so sudden and so completely unhinged that your professional instincts don't even register in time. One moment you are standing on the dock. The next, the world tips sideways, and the water swallows you whole.
Cold. Dark. Bubbles rushing past your face. Sounds disappearing into the deep.
You surface with a splash, treading water and gasping for air, while getting your hair out of your eyes.
Rafayel is right there across from you, treading water without a care in the world, watching you with an expression of pure, unrepentant satisfaction.
You stare at him, a chilled silence stretches out between you, broken only by the soft lap of water against the dock and the splashing sounds you two make to stay afloat.
And then something gives in you. A laugh comes out of you, a real one, free and uncontrolled. Here you are, a full grown adult, floating in a freezing marina at five in the morning, the salty water slightly stinging your eyes because an idol you are guarding just tackled you off a dock, and he is looking at you gleefully like he just accomplished something.
"You are ridiculous," you manage between breaths, splashing him with water to emphasize your point.
"I will take that as a compliment," his proud smile deepens as he casually dodges your splashes. “Race you to shore.”
—-----
Race you to shore really meant race you to the ladder to climb back up the docks. Of course Rafayel found the ladder to go back up way before you. He had clearly done this before. It also shouldn’t be that much of a surprise that he is a much better swimmer than you.
“Rafayel, did you at all consider the possibility that I might not know how to swim?” you yell up as you slowly make your way to the ladder that he has long disappeared from, your soaked clothes feel much heavier in water.
“I did not, I assumed you just know how to do everything. But, I would have saved you if you couldn’t. Including resuscitation." His voice comes from somewhere above you.
You grumble a bit, missing the feeling of buoyancy as you pull yourself out of water to climb the ladder, everything suddenly feels much heavier and colder as you leave the water.
But at the top, Rafayel greets you with a huge fluffy blanket.
“Where—” you blink and it dawns on you, “...you planned this?”
“What makes you think that?” He gives you his best innocent look.
“...What possessed you to plan to tackle someone off the docks?” You accept the warm fluffy blanket, letting him wrap you up several times until only your face is showing.
“I have always wanted to do something like this.” he smiles mischievously, “...or maybe I just wanted an excuse to take care of you.”
It’s hard for you to resist the feeling of warmth growing in your chest. You can’t help but smile back at him. “From a trouble of your own making?”
“But of course. How else was it going to happen?”
He pulls you in, hugging you as the big blanket ball that you are right now. Your face is hidden with his shoulder, you smell seawater, and the scent that is distinctively his.
“...I want to take care of you.” he whispers against your wet hair.
Your heart aches a little.
“...It does sound nice.” Your voice is so small, it’s almost as if you hope he doesn’t hear it. “And you are probably the only one that could do it.”
His breath seems broken up a little.
Softly and slowly he takes your hand into his. And you two walk along the seaside boardwalk in silence for a long time like that, his hand tangled in yours, leading the way, you still wrapped up tightly in the blanket, hiding your face.. Trails of water drops following behind you.
AU Idol!Rafayel x Bodyguard!MC, Slow Burn (8 of 12)
(see masterlist for past posts)
There are some things you simply didn't have to deal with in your previous placements.
Rafayel, for one.
The other would be Rafayel with no shirt on after taking a shower.
After a day of intense content shoots, it's finally a day off at Rafayel's apartment, a place he is rarely actually at. It's only the second time you have been here, and the vibe is completely different from the first. The last time, he was wary of you. This time, he is… maybe a little too comfortable. If comfortable is even the right word.
"What are you doing Rafayel. Get. Dressed."
"I am dressed."
"You are half naked."
"This is how I usually am at home."
You are not quite sure if you believe him. You are leaning towards no.
"Ok," you say as calmly as you can, looking away. "Go on, please just pretend I am not here and invisible."
"You? Invisible?" He chuckles, "Impossible."
He moves toward you. You panic slightly, but hold your ground, still standing by the kitchen counter, looking away.
"How are you going to guard me if you can't even look at me? Miss Bodyguard."
"Rafayel…" You meant to say his name as a warning, but it comes out way less threatening than you hoped.
"Hmm..?"
He places his hands on the counter behind you and leans in.
"What is it?"
He is so close you can practically feel his body heat from his very toned chest and his very fine six pack……
"Put a shirt on!!!!!!!"
------
There is now a shirt on.
You might have forced it to happen. Your memory is a little blurry at the moment.
Now he is in front of the piano, leisurely working on some new songs.
The lyrics are not even filled in and your ears already feel burning hot just from listening to the melodies. The music notes making confessions to you and showering you with sweet words over and over again, enveloping you. Embracing you.
"...Rafayel… we need to talk."
He pauses, then continues playing.
"I don't know if I want to."
"We need to."
He finally stops and turns to you, his expression quiet and serious. "Ok. Go on."
"...Rafayel, I don't know what you are planning but… it's not going to work."
He looks at you steadily.
"What do you think I am planning?"
You pause. You were not prepared for him to pretty much outright admit it. You thought he would at least deny it a little.
"You know what you are doing."
"Maybe. But I want to hear what you think I am doing."
You look at him. He looks back, waiting, with no indication that he plans to make this any easier for you.
You take in a breath and decide to just rip off the bandaid.
"I can't fall in love with you."
Something in his expression shifts just slightly. Not surprised. Something quieter than that.
"Why not?"
"Because I am your bodyguard."
"That's a very weak excuse and you know it."
You do know it. That's the problem. But you continue to push.
"Rafayel, this is a job to me. I am not real. Who you think you know… is made up for the job. This person right here, who is talking to you right now, will be gone as soon as the contract is over."
You watch something flicker across his face. Brief and quickly contained.
"Which parts are not real?"
"…None of it is real."
"Then why are you scared?"
"I am not scared, I just don't want to hurt you."
"You can't hurt me. And even if you could, that is my problem to have. Not yours to protect me from."
His steadiness is making this intensely hard. You almost wish he would argue back. Get angry. Give you something to push against.
He doesn't.
"…It is not what you think it is. Everything I do for you is only because it's my job," you force yourself to continue,"I would do the same for anyone else."
"Would you?"
You open your mouth. And close it.
You don't know. And something in you, just can’t bring yourself to lie to him.
He waits.
"Rafayel." You try a different angle. You are running out of them. "What you feel… It's natural to feel attached to the person who… seems to have rescued you. It doesn't mean it's real. It just feels real at the moment. Everyone goes through this. It will pass."
"You think I don't know the difference?"
You bite your lip. Of the conversation so far, this is the first time Rafayel slightly raises his voice. But he lowers his voice again, right at the next response.
"Is that what you need to believe?"
The question settles between you uncomfortably. Your heart races. Because the answer, if you are honest, is yes. You need it to be true. For both of you.
The heavy silence stretches between you two.
"There is no future for us," finally, your voice comes out as a broken whisper, small and defeated, but honest. "This will never work in the long term. Why are you insisting?"
He looks at you for a long time.
"What you are," he says quietly, "is someone who is hiding. Someone who has been doing this for so long, you have forgotten who you are and how to want something. You are scared of wanting something that could change everything. But even if you give up on yourself… I won't give up on you."
"I…" You don't have any more words for him or for yourself, you are at a loss. And you know he is right. You are scared, terrified even, and you still can't say you know why. Is it really that you are scared of wanting something?
He quietly studies you, your furrowed brows, your sad eyes, your tense shoulders.
AU Idol!Rafayel x Bodyguard!MC, Slow Burn (7 of 12)
(see masterlist for past posts)
You don't know how you managed to come out of the photoshoot in one piece with your dignity still intact, but you did.
Between Rafayel thanking the photographer with an easy sincerity and adding, with a glance at you, that he very much looks forward to the results and you trying to recover from whatever just happened, you are exhausted. And it is not even halfway through the day yet. The photographer pulls you aside on the way out, assuring you that it is completely normal to be a little flustered doing a shoot in close proximity with an idol, and that no one will ever know it was you.
"Miss Bodyguard." While you are waiting on the details of the next setup, Rafayel casually takes a seat beside you, one leg crossed at his knee, one arm draped along the back of the seat. "Why the frown? It doesn't suit your pretty face.”
You slowly turn to look at him.
"Rafayel. I would very much like you to turn your cold and mysterious mode back on."
"Not possible." He smiles ever so faintly. "Let it be known that there are consequences to your actions."
You are about to respond when Thomas walks over with his tablet.
“The next shoot is at studio 8, just down the hallway. Rafayel, you will get a wardrobe change into something more casual and then interact with cute animals. You have a choice between kittens and—”
“Kittens?”
Both Thomas and Rafayel stop and look at you.
“Kittens?” You know you are sounding way too hopeful, but you are not above this. You love cats.
Thomas looks like he wants to laugh. He turns to Rafayel and solemnly places a hand on his shoulder as if offering his condolences. “Kittens?”
“…You like cats?” Rafayel asks. He looks like he is pondering something very hard.
“Yes. Can we have kittens?" You pause, and decide that it's worth it to throw it all away for cats. "Pleeaassee?”
Thomas looks at Rafayel.
Rafayel looks at you, taking in your sparklingly hopeful expression.
"…Ok," he says.
Thomas turns away immediately, one hand covering his mouth. It takes him a few seconds to recompose himself under Rafayel's glare.
"Kittens it is," Thomas says, matter-of-factly, but very obviously suppressing his amusement. "I will let the handler know."
-------
“Rafayel, are you scared of cats?”
The reason Thomas was laughing becomes clear the moment you step into studio 8. Rafayel looks like his hair is standing on end.
It is somewhat ironic, you think, that someone who acts so much like a cat is so clearly scared of them. He looks, at this moment, exactly like a nervous, puffed up feline on high alert.
“This is great, I can already see the clip caption now, ‘Rafayel facing his fear in life– cats.’” Thomas is obviously enjoying this.
“I am not scared of them. I am just unsure of them.” Rafayel mutters as he… hides behind you.
“Why didn't you say so?”
“......You looked really happy.”
Oh…
“Don't feel bad, of all the things he’s put you through this is the least he can do.”
Rafayel shoots Thomas another glare, but doesn't say anything more.
—--
The handler comes forward and warmly introduces herself and the five kittens in the pen.
The kittens meow softly and look at Rafayel with great interest.
"They are looking at me."
"They are just curious."
"They are planning something."
"Rafayel—"
“You will protect me right?”
You pause and look at him. He is serious.
"......Yes, Rafayel, I will protect you from the kittens.”
—--
Video rolls.
Rafayel is sitting cross-legged on the floor against a clean white backdrop, the yellow and blue of his cardigan contrasts warmly against the background. The heavy knit is slightly sliding off one of his shoulders. The whole frame has a softness to it, an intimacy, an invitation to relax into the coziness.
The oversized cardigan on him is.. very.
Homey. Domestic.
Cute, your brain supplies.
You tell your brain to focus.
“We will give you one kitten at a time ok?” you say from just off-camera.
“...ok”
The handler reaches into the pen and produces a small white kitten, calm and blinking, and passes it to you.
As soon as you hold the kitten, you feel yourself dissolve. It’s so small, warm, and impossibly soft. You feel all your stress leave your body and can’t help but coo and snuggle with it against your cheek, a soft smile on your face.
From the corner of your eye you realize Rafayel is watching you.
You clear your throat. You are a professional.
You carry the white kitten over and crouch beside Rafayel.
"Hold still. I am going to put it in your lap. Just let it settle."
"And if it doesn't settle."
"It will."
"You don't know that."
"Rafayel."
"...Fine."
You place the white kitten in his lap. It turns once, twice, sniffs his cardigan thoroughly, and then plops down, blinking up at him.
Rafayel looks down at it.
It looks up at him.
Neither of them moves.
"See," you whisper from his side. "Not that bad."
He doesn't respond. But some of the stiffness in his shoulders seems to disappear a little.
—--
Then come the second and third kittens.
You place them on the floor nearby to let them wander naturally. The second kitten, an orange tabby, confidently makes a direct beeline to Rafayel. It sniffs his knee and decides the situation is acceptable and sits down right beside the white one to clean its paw.
Rafayel looks at you.
"There are two now."
"I see that."
"You said one at a time."
"I said we'd start with one."
"That is not—"
The third kitten, a small tortoiseshell, has apparently decided that his crossed legs form a perfect sleeping arrangement. It turns a few times and rest on his knee.
Rafayel looks at it and then looks at you.
"...There are three."
"They like you."
"They are using me as furniture."
"Rafayel, that means they trust you."
He processes this information in silence.
—-
The fourth and fifth kittens have significantly less agenda than the others. They are mostly interested in each other, tumbling and batting at nothing, occasionally ricocheting off Rafayel's leg without acknowledging him at all, waking up the tortoiseshell every few minutes.
They also occasionally get caught in Rafayel's cardigan. For the first few times, you go in to rescue them (and the cardigan), but after a few times, Rafayel starts to detangle them himself. Reluctant, exasperated, but gentle about it, setting them free from the trap of the knitting.
You watch him in the middle of the kittens, slightly stiff but accepting.
“What do you think so far?” you ask.
"...It's not as bad as I imagined," he admits, his voice low and reluctant.
“Do you want to try petting one?”
His eyes flicker up to yours.
"...Show me."
You were not expecting that.
You slowly scoot closer, but still making sure there is enough distance that you can be cut off from view if needed.
The orange kitten in his lap looks up at you briefly, decides you are ok, and goes back to cleaning itself.
"Hold your hand out," you say. "Flat. Like this."
You demonstrate with your own hand, palm up, fingers relaxed. The tortoiseshell at his knee looks up curiously, migrates toward your hand and nuzzles a little against it.
Rafayel watches this happen.
"They come to you so easily," he notes.
"Cats just do what they want, they like what they like. Now you," you gesture to him, as the tortoiseshell decides to relocate back to its post at his knee. "Have your hand out the same way."
He holds his hand out. Flat, fingers slightly stiff, palm up.
You watch the white kitten in his lap considers his hand. Then it steps forward, sniffs his fingers, and then pushes its small head against his palm.
"Now," you say quietly, "behind the ear. One finger. Slow."
He looks at you.
You reach over, just briefly to show him, and guide his finger to the spot just behind the white kitten's ear. The kitten leans into it immediately, eyes closing.
You become aware, in the particular way of someone whose job is to notice everything, that Rafayel is not looking at the kitten.
You move your hand back.
"Like that," you say. "Try."
He tries. Very slowly and carefully.
The kitten pushes into his hand and begins to purr.
Rafayel goes still for a moment before continuing the slow scratch behind its ear.
AU Idol!Rafayel x Bodyguard!MC, Slow Burn (Snippet 6 of 12)
(see masterlist for past posts)
"Thank you so much for your time today, this was really wonderful." The interview wraps on a warm note. As the studio crew gets busy breaking down the setup and resetting for the accompanying photoshoot, you get up to coordinate the logistics, and to see if the interviewer and photographer need anything.
You hand Rafayel a bottle of water as you pass by him, professional and calm, which feels like a small but important victory at this point.
The photographer, already scanning the room, pauses as you approach him.
"You are with the team?"
"I am Rafayel’s personal assistant. Is there anything I can help you with?"
He glances at the interviewer, then back to you. "Any chance you'd be willing to stand in for the shoot? We didn't have time to get someone in advance. It will be just the close angles. Hands, shoulder, hair. Nothing identifiable. Editing takes care of the rest."
The interviewer lights up immediately. "Oh, that would be perfect given the interview!"
From somewhere behind you, you hear Rafayel very nearly choke on his water.
"……"
What a turn of events.
You look to Thomas, who is already looking at you. He is giving you an apologetic smile.
Do this and we can call it even, he mouths.
You close your eyes briefly, feeling a headache.
"If I can be of help."
------
"Perfect, perfect, yes, like that, lean slightly toward him—"
You are facing him. That is the first problem. The second problem is how little distance the photographer seems to think is necessary between two people for a photoshoot. And the third problem, which you are actively not thinking about, is the casual certainty of Rafayel's arm at your waist, behind your back, as if it belongs there.
“Now look into each other’s eyes—”
You involuntarily stiffen. You have actually made it a point, for some time now, to not look into his eyes for more than several seconds at a time. There are reasons for this. Good reasons.
He does have absolutely gorgeous eyes.
You can immediately see in them how pleased he is with all of this, his eyes practically sparkling with delight and mischief. But beneath the teasing and the playfulness, there is a quiet, warm current that pulls you in, that whispers to you how much he is glad to be just looking at you, how much you matter, and how much——
You need to breathe.
You break away from the eye contact. You know this is going to give him a tell, but it is better than… whatever is happening.
"Why are you looking away?" he says, his voice teasing and low enough that only you can hear it. Of course he wouldn’t let you off the hook that easily.
"……"
"And why were you holding your breath?" He doesn’t even bother to hide the quiet laughter in his voice.
"…I can hold my breath whenever I want."
"Is that so." The corner of his mouth lifts. "Is that also why you are blushing?"
"What can I say." You keep your voice as dry as you possibly can. "You do have quite the charm."
Without being instructed, he leans closer. You are very aware of the distance between his face and yours. It is not enough distance.
"I'm honored." He whispers near your ear. You can hear the smile.
You instinctively try to lean back and find that you can't. While you are distracted, his hand has quietly settled into cradling the back of your head.
He slowly, deliberately raises his other hand to your face, and traces along your jaw, dangerously close to your lips.
"I've got you now."
The photographer makes a noise of delight.
"Yes, yes, that's it, perfect — miss, could you pull on his tie?"
You are already frozen, but you freeze even harder at the instruction, and Rafayel takes advantage of the moment.
His hand catches yours and slowly guides it to his casually half-done tie. Then, he lets go. Leaving your hand exactly where he put it.
