Raphael /BoyxBoy/

||Seventeen||

Day seven

And then waking up without him felt strange.

He'd walked home without me after my shift at the store the previous night, something about work and school. I wasn't listening. Just kissed him briefly to silence him, and muttered words about meeting up again.

It smelled like eggs and bacon when I stepped outside the shower the following morning. Scarlet scooped food onto her own plate and leaned against the counter as she wolfed it down.

"Starving," she explained.

"I can tell." I gave her a smile. "You don't have to cook all the time."

Scarlet shrugged as she took another bite. "I felt like it. I almost always do. But you can owe me some if it makes you feel better."

"It does." I stood behind the coffee machine, tapping my fingers against my mug as I waited.

"You weren't with Raphael last night."

"Great deduction skills."

She rolled her eyes and set her empty plate aside. "You were all over each other the other night. I was just wondering."

"It's complicated."

"Doesn't have to be."

"But it is."

"All right."

"Fine."

She sighed. "I need to get going."

The apartment door clicked shut, and I slumped against the counter.

-

"Hey."

Raphael looked up. I found him at the front of the tea shop instead of the back, leaning against a streetlight with his arms crossed over his chest. "Hey."

"I was let out early."

He nodded, tightening his arms around himself. "Good."

I frowned slightly. "Wanna stop by the apartment?"

He shrugged. "Scarlet?"

"Work."

"How much time?"

I checked my phone. "A couple of hours."

"Let's go." He pushed himself upright.

The walk there was quiet, a few murmered words and careful, purposely accidental grazing of fingers. That was mostly my fault.

With no idea what to say as we lapsed into another awkward silence, I asked, "So, do you use that hand cream I got you?"

"Maybe," he glanced at me. "Do you want to see for yourself?"

"Yeah," I said, too soon to sound subtle. "I mean, sure. Whatever."

"Maybe when we get to your place," he said. "And after you take off your shirt."

"Just my shirt?" I said, not caring that anyone could overhear.

"The others are optional."

"They are?"

His lips twitched. "For example, your jeans don't have to come off entirely. To your knees, perhaps."

"That's very specific."

"It got the message through."

"It did."

I was grateful when I saw the building near, and then we were inside my room, belongings carelessly tossed aside and forgotten.

"You should be careful with that," Raphael said as I started to tug my shirt off. "It could tear."

"You'd like that," I dropped it to the floor and nudged him gently towards the edge of my bed.

He got comfortable, staring at me expectantly. "I'm not sure. We should try it out and see."

I shook my head and pinned his arms to his sides, kissing him just rough enough for him to ease into the movement of my lips.

His fingers ran up my torso as promised, splaying his fingers across the surface as he delved deeper into the kiss. "What's the verdict?"

"Soft," I said as my moved my lips to his jaw. His fingers brushed like feathers over my heated skin, tips slightly calloused and rough. Different from mine. "Really soft."

His arms circled around to the base of my spine and he held them there, allowing our hips to come in contact.

"Any new designs?"

He pulled away. "How badly do you want to see them?"

"Badly." I grazed my teeth against his neck. "Really badly."

He eyed me once before complying.

My eyes followed his fingers as he tugged his pants down, then his briefs, displaying a cluster of perfectly spaced out images on his right thigh. Images of a pair of full lips, fingers intertwined, a hand between legs, the curve of one's hips, of a lazily stretched spine. All lined in black, only colored in by the pale tint of his skin.

"When do you draw these?"

He shrugged.

The tip of my finger traced over the drawing of a mouth. "Was I there? Or after I left?"

"Why does it matter?" he tugged the rest of his pants and underwear down, as if meaning to distract me with his porcelain skin, the pulsing need between his legs, and the gentle gold hairs that glinted in the light.

"I'm just curious," I said. "They're beautiful."

He rolled his eyes, pressing closer to me.

"Jake."

"They are."

"Then touch me. And maybe I'll tell you if I drew them specifically for you to see."

I drew him in for another lip bruising kiss, one that lasted far longer than the others we shared. One that had him digging his fingers into the back of my thighs and then tugging the rest of my clothes off. To the point where he had us flushed together just like his drawings. Just like the ink that clung to his skin, my body clung to his, sinking into him so easily now. So naturally now, it was simply part of breathing.

His sharp nails dragged me back to reality, as he twisted and pushed to be closer. More, when it felt like I was running out of air. Then a final push, a tilting sky of black ink standing out against fair skin before he realized I was squeezing too tightly, and he pushed firmly with his palms.

My heart was still racing when my eyes finally adjusted to the ceiling.

Then I looked to him, to see him staring at the same ceiling with a look that said it appeared so differently from the one I could see.

My hand sought out his fingers, clawed around against the sheets until I found them, and then finally allowed my eyelids to fall shut.

I used the word "skin" way too many times lololol

Thanks for reading <3