summary: on days when he misses home, you're right by his side.
tags: established relationship, implied sexual content, kissing, homesick, gallery date, hurt/comfort, emotional intimacy, crying
wc: 2k
masterlist
Rafayel looks at the scene before him, waiting for you to get back from the bathroom.
There was an old couple helping a little girl put on her own pink raincoat. Outside, it was bucketing down and Rafayel eyes the misty grey clouds with a careful eye.
The couple must be the girls grandparents.
Something about watching the scene tugs at Rafayel heart. Somewhere deep.
“You ready to go fishie?” You appear beside Rafayel and thread an arm through his.
“Y-yeah, of course cutie.”
Your eyes fly to look at his face.
“What’s wrong?” You ask. Not that he’d tell you what was wrong outright. But you were getting good at guessing what’s wrong.
He frowns, “It’s nothing, just wondering where we are going to go first. Normally… I’d love to see the expressionist artists but they haven’t changed that collection in ages,” he draws out the last word.
He keeps his eyes on the little girl in the raincoat as they step out into the rain of the gallery gardens.
“Let’s start modern then go back?” You suggest.
“No way!” He puts a hand to his chest like I’ve insulted him. “In that case, we might as well see the classics. That might give you a better appreciation of art,” he eyes your reaction.
You laugh at him, knowing you were in a way too peaceful mood today to be arguing with him.
“Let’s go then,” you smile, pulling Rafayel towards the galleries.
Being a regular art gallery patron and guest curator and consultant, Rafayel knew the ins and outs of the gallery. It was getting actually scary. If he thought about it, he could visualise each item in specific collections and where they were located. How the galleries were connected and what lead where.
When you both reach the classics room, easily the biggest and most popular collection, Rafayel wants to follow you. He stops to look at you and reaches a hand out. You take it, and share a smile.
“Come on fishie… let me give you my private curatorial tour. My expertise in this area is unmatched only second to you,” you tease him.
Rafayel pretends to be annoyed, but he really doesn’t care at all. After seeing that little girl today, he is more than happy for you to lead him around.
He wasn’t his usual self for the first part of the day. But slowly he forgets about the incident that made him sad for some reason and comments with more vivacity, his usual bubbly self.
“Rafayel! Look!” You gasp, motioning towards a large wall painting. It was enormous, spanning almost the whole wall of the gallery room.
“Let’s sit down,” he suggests and plops himself down on the provided velvet viewing seats with a sigh. “My legs are tired from walking.”
“Awww, your legs are tired?” you repeat looking at him, you reach out to fluff his hair a little before turning back towards the painting. He takes a quick photo of you from behind, outlined by the painting.
He smiles to himself, as you don’t notice him taking the photo. Rafayel thinks this photo is so beautiful that he knows it’s going to be his phone lock screen for a very long time.
“Come sit,” he tugs your sleeve until you come sit beside him.
There was hardly any visitors in this gallery, so you got a great view of the piece.
The colossal painting was of a sea. White sea foam roiled and bubbled as the waves crashed relentlessly over and over into itself.
“It reminds me of you,” you say to him quietly. Rafayel doesn’t say anything, remaining quiet and waiting for you to go on.
You don’t have anything else to say, totally engrossed in the scene. There are what looks like figures on rocks in the distance, a sailboat, mossy cliffs, sea spray. A total sea landscape.
“The colours are wonderful…” he mumbles.
“Raf, it’s just blue,” you laugh, confused.
He leans forward, into your ear, “You forget I’m a god.”
“Oh I remember that, and I won’t forget it,” you raise an eyebrow at him. He gives you a look that says he’ll remind you how much of a god he is when you’re alone tonight.
“What is it like seeing to that much detail?”
“Very overstimulating.”
Your eyes turn back to the painting with a nod of your head. “So this isn’t a calm painting?”
He lets out a sad smile, “It’s quite the opposite yes. It’s very chaotic. Beautiful but… equally overwhelming.”
You look at Rafayel. Was a part of him sad today?
Slowly, you interlace your fingers with his own.
He stares at the painting still.
“Sometimes I wish I could turn it off,” he says quietly. “It’s all or nothing. If I don’t want it, I have to just shut my eyes.”
“Then I’d describe it to you.”
-/-/-
You tuck Rafayel's hair into his raincoat hood before you both step out into the rain. And that moment means more to him than he’d admit.
It was like he was the little kid, being looked after by you and he relaxes into your touch.
He couldn’t go back to how it was, all those years ago. All the way back to the time of Lemuria, when his parents would comfort him, look after him and love him.
Those days were long gone, buried under the sea.
But with you, Rafayel could feel your love, and that was enough for him.
“Let’s go, hold onto me so you don’t slip in the rain,” he takes your hand firmly in his as the rain patters down on your coats.
It was a short run to the car.
“Hey I’m getting wet!” You call out, laughing.
Rafayel turns back to look at you with a new spark in his eyes. He drops his hood, letting his hair collect water before bringing you closer and shaking his hear.
“Hey!!”
He laughs as you try to get away and he lets you go.
You’re egar to get to the warmth of his car, legs tired from standing most of the day admiring paintings.
“Come on Raf, you’re so slow!”
He laughs at you, “we’re nearly there. Slow down or you’ll-"
“Ahh!” Of course at that moment you had to slip in a puddle.
Rafayel is at your side in a second, catching your arm and keeping you upright.
You smile sheepishly at him but he just smiles at you. “Got you.”
“T-thanks Raf.”
He releases your arm, tucking you into his side instead as you both head towards the car. He helps you in before heading to the drivers seat.
You sink into your seat and Rafayel joins you a moment later, shaking the rain out of his hair.
“What are you craving for dinner, we can pick it up on the way?” He asks you on the way home. Everyone was driving much slower than usual, the rain coating the roads and crossings.
You look at him.
“Yes,” he laughs. “I’m just… in a good mood so I’ll let you pick what to have.”
“Hmm, in that case let’s get fried chicken,” you raise a playful eyebrow at him.
He smiles, “that’s perfect.”
The rest of the ride was filled with peaceful reflections on the artworks and insider stories Rafayel knows being a curator at the gallery.
He holds your hand the whole drive to get dinner, and as you wait for the order to be cooked, he leans his head down to rest on your shoulder.
“You okay? Tired?”
“Mmm, tired,” he agrees.
The bell rings, and you excitedly pick up the takeaway bag.
“Let’s go sleepy, we’ve got chicken to eat!”
He kisses your forehead and you swear he drives home so fast it’s crazy.
“The smell of the chicken’s woken me up, now all I can think about is eating it.”
He clears the lounge room table of random papers and you both dig into the chicken right away.
“Mmm so good,” you lean back in satisfaction.
He lies down on your lap as you move to pack up the box.
“Oh Raf, there's one drumstick left, you want it?”
He left it in the box just for you.
“No I’m good, you can have it,” he settles into your lap as you finish up, then wiping your hands on the takeaway napkins before packing everything back into the boxes.
You look down and see Rafayel watching you quietly.
“Come here,” you extend your arms and Rafayel rises, hugging you back. Together, you settle into the couch. Instinctively, a hand rises to Rafayel’s head, stroking his hair as he lays against your chest.
He nuzzles into you satisfied, and you feel your heart swell. Happy to protect him.
“That painting from today…” he mumbles. “Reminds me of Lemuria. I guess I’m missing it a lot today. And recently.”
“Oh Raf…” you hold him closer to you. His hair passes through your fingers gently and you realise that’s why he was a little sad today. “I’m here.”
You don’t know what else to say, but you can hold him. And you do for a long time. The two of you in the near silence of the crackling fireplace.
Rafayel draws back to look at you, not fully letting go. He brings a hand up to your face, tracing your features gently. I’m glad you’re here, his actions and gaze seemed to say. It passes carefully over your face.
Wordlessly, he slowly leans forward to meet your lips in a kiss. You pull him closer carefully and wrap your arms around his shoulders. Between Rafayel’s steady weight against you and the fireplace blazing, you warm up quickly.
He smirks at you when he notices, “Hot?”
“Yeah.”
“Good,” he smiles.
He helps you pull off your sweater, his shirt brushing against your bare chest and collarbone as he kisses you again.
“Good?” You ask.
“Yeah." He draws back and you tug on his shirt. At least both of you would be naked together. “Do I make you hot, cutie?”
You run a hand down his chest, half unbuttoned before helping him with the rest of the buttons. Rafayel hangs his head, just watching your fingers work, gently touching the freckles on his neck and chest. He shrugs out of the shirt and he swells forward to meet your lips again.
He sighs into the kiss as you pull his body closer, skin to skin, chest to chest.
There was something about the way he kisses you, the way that he was so strong, heavy on top of you, big. And the way he kisses you so deeply every time, but especially tonight.
Everything you wanted to say to him was conveyed in the way your hips met his, and everything he wanted to say was conveyed in how his hands held your body against him, feeling you carefully in all the right places.
Don’t be sad, I’m here now, is all you’re thinking as Rafayel looks down at you like you’re his artwork. Each touch, calculated and cleansing, warm. His face gave away little of his sadness, but more of his devotion and obsession with you.
“Perfect,” he whispers, and the word spills across your skin as he brings you close. “So… mmm, perfect for me.”
Your lips never leave his for what feels like hours before he kisses every inch of your skin. You were perfect. Perfect to him.
When you hold him close to your chest, hours later, he lets a few tears slip out, and that makes you hold him tighter, bodies intertwined and breathless.
“Got you… Rafayel,” you breathe out, tucking him closer.
He can feel your love, how you care for him and don’t want to see him in pain. How you understand him even when he doesn’t fully. One thing's for sure, he thinks as he’s falling asleep, is that you’re someone very, very special to him. Someone so, so precious he feels comfortable opening up around.
That thought alone is enough for Rafayel. He still misses home, there is no doubt. But you’re healing some of that, and you have no idea what that means to him.
So he lets you hold him, already falling asleep before he does, but holding him still. And listening to your calming breaths, like waves lapping at a shore, he soon follows you to sleep.
Sylus calls your name and you hear it over the wind. It’s gentle and cradles your heart more than you can admit to him.
It’s carried over the wind that is picking up, blowing the tall reeds you stand in about your calves. The reeds are dry and Sylus’s steps crunch as he approaches you slowly. His white shirt crumples like the wings of a butterfly in the wind.
“Sweetie I’m here,” he touches your shoulder and you don’t brush him off this time. You needed some comfort, you needed him.
“How did you find me?” You say to him absently. The storm was rolling in like it always does in this scene. The storm was approaching. Never reaching you, but painting the sky a violent inky black.
“I never want to lose you,” he replies quietly, and you feel the weight of his words.
He must have been worried knowing you left the village without telling anyone to come to the fields. You needed space but you’re suddenly aware he needed reassurance.
“I’m sorry,” you turn to him, failing to not feel guilty. How sweet it is to have something so well loved that it hurts when they’re gone.
His eyes soften into your blank gaze as he gathers you in his arms. You squeeze back as the wind blows your long skirt around your bodies. A careful dragon wing extends to keep you sheltered from the wind.
You hear it flap in the wind, a sigh of leather as Sylus says nothing, holding you to his chest.
“Sylus… could you stay here with me?” You ask, muffled by his neck.
“Yes,” he replies immediately and even that breaks your heart. That he’s willing to be with you. He’s willing to hold you when you’re like this.
You blink back your tears and the wind dries them away. You work together with nature. Your cotton skirt tendrils around both of your legs when you lie together in the grass, hair fluttering in the breeze like grass stems. He clasps your hand and brings it up to his chest. “I’ve got you.”
The air is thick with sadness and storm. Your heart is strangely dormant.
“This is where I come when it gets bad…” you admit.
“Where you went the other week?” He clarifies.
“Yeah.”
You listen to the breeze rustling the dry grass, stare up at the roiling sky steeped in rich thunderclouds ready to break at any time. They won’t anytime soon, as nature controlled them. But they’re there.
“It’s where I wander to when I can’t stop my thoughts. Where I can stop thinking and just… exist away from everything.”
Sylus looks down at you and you swear you see his heart breaking on his face. You stare at the clouds above you instead.
He only squeezes your hand against his chest as he nuzzles your head.
“Then I’ll stay here with you. Keep you company. So this time doesn’t feel so numb.”
You relish into his touch as your eyes flutter closed. Sylus kisses your forehead as you realise this is how you cope with your emotions.
You can’t feel anything, you can barely feel your body laying here. Probably wouldn’t at all if Sylus wasn’t here by your side.
He cradles you, arm around your waist as you both gaze absently up into the clouds.
People would draw figures in the clouds but these ones were thick and heavy. There wasn’t anything to discern, just grey gradients and graphite.
A tear slips down your cheek and Sylus kisses the top of your head. You wanted to cry more but couldn’t. Your heart was too heavy and your mind too full to do that. Your body too disconnected.
“I… feel… really quiet.”
You hope Sylus gets what you mean. And he does.
“That’s okay sweetie,” he responds. “I see you. Don’t feel small okay?”
You squeeze his hand in response. Even that feels like all your effort has gone into the action.
When it starts to rain, Sylus collects you in his arms, sitting, and shelters you with his wing. Water pools around, dampening the reeds, the air, and releasing your heart completely with a sigh.
Sylus keeps whispering to you words of comfort in between the rain pattering on his wings. You sink deeper into him as you relax.
You just had to stick out this feeling of apathy.
“When you want to go home… I’ll fly you.”
It was such a simple phrase that gave you so much comfort. He held you close still, and would wait for you to tell him you were ready to go home.
When you’re ready, you tell Sylus, and he slowly stands up.
“Okay… now hold onto me tight.”
You already are, but you try to settle into his arms, getting ready for the takeoff. Sylus flaps his wings, and the cool wind rustles your hair.
“Are you getting rained on?” Sylus asks. He’s trying to cover you as much as possible, but with the cold air and the storm breaking it was hard to avoid the rain, even if you were flying in the opposite direction.
Sylus keeps you close as he flies you back home.
Inside the cottage, it seems the rain had followed. It was really storming now, the rain pelting down on the wooden roof, but you were safe inside.
Sylus sits behind you on your bed, bringing a clean cloth up to your hair to dry it. His hands work away as you absentmindedly munch on a small helping of bread and wine.
“Damn this bread is good,” you say with a small laugh.
Sylus’s heart leaps, so happy to hear you happy. Even if it was about some random piece of bread.
Sylus let’s out a deep laugh from behind you. He uses the dry corners of the cloth to dry off his own wet hair before resting his cheek on your shoulder blade as you drink the wine. It's sweet.
“Do you want to lay down?” He asks.
You nod. You were suddenly overwhelmed and wanted to say more to Sylus, but felt so tired you couldn’t.
“It’s okay, let me.”
He takes off your soaked boots and changes your wet socks into soft fluffy cotton ones, before helping you inside the sheets and cuddling you from behind. The bed creaks slightly as he readjusts closer to you. You both wiggle closer to the window projecting the now, night sky.
“If you want to sleep, sleep. If you want to watch the rain, I’ll be here beside you.”
Your eyes fall to the open window where a calming breeze and fresh air flows through. Where he holds you feels rewarding, a safe comfort to die for in an unstable environment.
Your arms wrap around his as your body settles down in his touch. Sylus calls your name, soft and unhurried, and you melt under his voice. It’s gentle and cradles your heart.
You turn your neck to look at his face, illuminated in the soft moonlight and reach out a finger to brush the hair out of his eyes.
“I’m right here okay.”
You’ve never felt so vulnerable, but in front of Sylus, seen. Held.
There was a quiet and steady fondness in his eyes as he looks at you, and you realise everything would be okay.
summary: friends with benefits care about each other more than they realise
tags: friends with benefits, mutual pining, emotional hurt/comfort, implied sexual content, emotional vulnerability, crying, first kiss, mention of general grief/sadness
wc: 1.6k
masterlist
You knew it was wrong when you stepped out into the cold night at the beep of Caleb’s car. It was wrong to go and meet him tonight, and you weren’t going to at first. But then he said he didn’t have a good day either. Do two wrongs make one right?
You try to walk slowly so your skirt doesn’t completely ride up your thighs, even though in an hour it would be discarded anyway, lost in the darkness or below Caleb’s leather seats.
He smiles at you with a tip of his head when you get in and you smile back, genuinely so glad to see him. Caleb didn’t know about your pain, and you didn’t know about his. Only that when you were together like this, it didn’t matter. And you didn’t ask. You happily slip into the performance.
“Bad day too?” He starts, reversing out the driveway.
“Yeah, just the usual. You?”
“Something like that. But I’m here to make it better”.
You glance between his lips and his eyes, that were already turned to the road. He slips a hand onto your thigh like he usually does and turns onto the highway. Where was he going tonight? You wanted to ask but the words died in your throat as you start to drown in your thoughts. Your grief.
“You okay?” Caleb asks, worried. “You’re quiet.”
Don’t ask me that, you wanted to say. Don’t ask me that or I’ll spill everything and… I can’t do that to anyone. A further part of your mind thinks, that if you had to tell anyone, it would be Caleb. You knew he didn’t judge, that’s why you did this in the first place - you trusted one another.
You put your hand over his own and nod, “I’m fine.”
Caleb watches your response and doesn’t reply. You knew he didn’t buy it, but you’re pleased he didn’t press for details. Instead, he winds down the windows and turns the music louder. The air blows in on your faces and you look to him beside you. There is something so carefree about how his dark hair flickers in the wind, a sparkle in his eyes.
There was nowhere better Caleb wanted to be right now.
A little after ten, the car turned into a dark car park off the highway, hidden. Caleb cuts the light in the car but doesn’t move.
“You wanna get in the back?” He asks quietly.
You feel your eyes widen. Why was he asking like he cared? Why was he looking at me like that?
“Yeah, let’s go.”
When you get in the back, Caleb just hold his hands out.
“What are you doing?” You instinctively draw back.
“You’re not okay,” he states, voice breaking.
“No Caleb I’m not okay,” your voice raises, and you try to continue but nothing else can come out.
He just sits back, defeated, and you watch him carefully. He lets you touch his chest, drifting lower. He helps you undo his belt, fingers brushing over yours. His eyes never leave yours. Why was he not… he was more reserved tonight. He’s waiting for you to make the moves. You figure he just wants you to take the lead.
You undo his belt and encourage him to take off his pants. Caleb tries to cup your face, but you just look up at him. As soon as you see his relaxed expression and a nod, you move closer.
He runs a finger along your bottom lip and lets out a relaxed sigh as he brings your mouth up to him slowly.
You relax as he places a careful hand on the back of your head, gently running a hand through it, massaging your scalp. It only makes you like Caleb more.
He says your name, not in pleasure. And you stop immediately and look up at him.
“Can you come sit on my lap?”
He helps you up and you straddle him, pants half way down his legs. You can feel him against your tights under your skirt and you feel him get more excited. Caleb wraps his arms around you and pulls you against him. You rock forward, and his breath hitches into your ear. Cute. You hold onto his shoulders.
Suddenly, this all felt too much. The feeling of Caleb hugging you. This whole night had been really slow, it didn’t have that same thirst as the times before.
He tugs your hips flush against his so you stop squirming. You can hear his breathing as he brings his hands up to your face and kisses your hair. It was only until he kept going, kissing your temple, that you realised something was different.
“Caleb…” you swallow. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t do anything if you’re in pain… I won’t,” he replies firmly.
You don’t know how to respond, but Caleb just draws back and looks into your eyes. You look away. We shouldn’t even be doing this, why was he watching me like that.
He calls your name again, and it’s softer. He gives you time, waits for you to turn before looking at you.
Caleb unflinchingly looks into your eyes, flecked with pain. You don’t have anything to say.
“Well aren't you gonna kiss me?” He asks quietly.
A smile forms in the corner of your mouth. “Would you like that?”
“Would it help the pain?” He says desperately.
You take a breath. “Yes.”
“It would help with mine too.” Caleb rests his forehead against yours.
“Are you sure?”
There was so many things you did with Caleb. So many crazy things, but a kiss had to be the thing that somehow felt like taking a big step. More like a leap off a cliff.
“I’m sure,” he whispers, bringing a hand up to the side of your face. “I’m so sure.”
He watches you and leans back slightly. He watches you as your lips follow his and press a light kiss. You don’t need to draw back fully to see his reaction as he wraps you in his arms and kisses you back. Caleb’s kiss is strong and steady, just like his arms, and you can’t help but melt into him in a rush of emotion.
You don’t know when it started, but you’re suddenly crying, and trying to focus on kissing him back. Caleb draws back, sinking lower into the backseat and takes you with him. His eyes look so soft, and when he kisses you again, it’s slow and reassuring.
When he draws back again you try to stop your tears by biting your lip. Caleb is still looking up at you from beneath, like you’re a god, completely unfazed by your tear streaked face.
He pulls you into his chest and you collapse completely into him.
“You can let it all out with me. I won’t judge, I promise.” He brings his hand up to your head, and strokes it, holding you against him.
You bite your lip and shut your eyes. Caleb shouldn’t be able to support me like this. Even though he was the only one to quiet the pain.
“I promise, I promise,” is all Caleb whispers over and over again.
“I’m sorry… you shouldn’t see me like this.” You say, trying to come to your senses.
“I know you only want to show me your good sides. But I don’t want you to act with me.” Caleb says. “Let’s just… stay like this and then I’ll drive you back home.”
You only relax into his arms and nod, bringing a hand up to his chest. You hold onto the fabric as he lets you cry everything out.
All Caleb can think about is how much pain you must be in, and he finds himself wanting to protect you. He wanted nothing more than to ask why you were in this much sadness.
Hours later, you find the strength the get up off Caleb and all your cells scream for him. You didn’t want to leave.
He drove you home, his hand resting on the back of your headrest. He wanted to comfort you still.
He fixes your clothes once again, even though he fixed your shirt multiple times, smoothed your skirt out, since you got up from being entangled. You watch his eyes on you, as he seems to find more and more things to adjust. He was drawing this out. Why?
“If you need a shoulder to cry on…”
Your eyes rise to his, "I’m really sorry Caleb-"
"No. I’ll be here for you."
He wasn’t mad. He didn’t think you were silly.
"I already make you feel good," he winks, trying to lighten the air. "The least I can do is help you feel better."
You nod, before leaving him and heading inside.
You keep thinking that he doesn’t owe that to you. That’s not what you call each other for when you’re insanely touch starved and horny at god knows what hour.
You weren’t wrong to want to see Caleb tonight. That’s all you can think as you slip into bed, not bothering to shower. You could still smell Caleb on your skin and you relax into the sheets. You don’t cry for the rest of the night, you let it all out with Caleb.
You just relax into his smell and you’re asleep in minutes.
Caleb on the other hand, laid looking at his phone on his nightstand before rolling over. He held a pillow to his chest, pretending it was you.
There was so much he wanted to say to you, he just hoped that tonight had been comforting for you. As much as he usually gets you out of your thoughts, he hoped he hadn’t made it worse.
He’d ring you in the morning. He had to know if you were okay. But… he’d give it the night. Just to make sure that when he wakes up, what you did willingly wasn’t a dream. That kiss wasn’t a dream.
snowghoul
yousharknotpass
germansingergirl
dededos
janainaart
titsay
vaporwave
jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline