3. Travis Phoebe (ManxMan)

•Travis 10.

Raphael was a really good cook. We had a good time talking and cooking together in his cosy kitchen. I kept reminding myself not to think about it all. The beautiful aesthetic of us together in his home couldn't and wouldn't be imagined past this weekend. I needed to be strong enough to remember that.

After we ate, well, after I ate, I allowed him a drink from me, he took one sip and wanted no more.

"If I'm not careful I'll be an addict."

"Really?"

"You're delightful, Travis. I'm already hocked I'm afraid." I flushed looking into his eyes for a beat too long. I blinked and shook my head.

I chuckled and shook my head, I spoke more for distraction. "There was a vampire, once, he drank from my sister."

"Oh." He flushed, "I take it not consensual?" I shook my head, my fingers on the kitchen table, tapping on my empty glass with a faint smile.

"Theo said he'd probably be back, begin to see her and go mad."

"Did he?"

"No, I always wondered why though. He could have, if caster blood is so strong, so addictive, why not?"

"Maybe he had more discipline than they realised." He was close, his scent filling me and I looked at him, feeling my heart constrict.

"Or maybe my sister got to him before he could think to stay." I smirked my eyes brightening and Raphael reared his head, eyes wide before a smirk made its way onto his lips.

"I think I love that." He inched closer to me, his skin cool, his finger a distraction on my arm before I spoke almost breathless.

"Movie."

I lead him to the living room, pushing him onto his couch and he chuckled while I got the remote and sat right next to him, so close that if anyone who didn't know us came in, would believe we were more than just friends.

Raising the remote he took my hand and I looked over at him, he leaned over me instead and kissed me. I melted into him and felt him smile against me. He took my clothes off and marveled at me. The amount of times he called me beautiful broke my heart, if I were honest with how sincere and open he had been.

We didn't have sex. Instead we made out and talked and pressed against one another. He didn't even touch my cock and he didn't ask me to touch his. It was intimate and lovely and sad all at once.

I fell asleep to the sound of his slow heart. It pumped with my blood, one beat then a long pause then another beat and the cycle continued.

The next day we showered together, laughing and being what anyone could mistake for a couple. He chased me around some and we made out again. As the day darkened and I took a nap I was in for a surprise.

I took a shower as instructed and dressed casual formal. Raphael knocked as though it were not his room. He smiled, looking good in the white buttoned down dress shirt with the first few undone and slacks and barefoot. He lead me down the stairs and into the back yard where I gapped.

I stared around myself, stunned at the view of fire flies in jars set along a path, leading to a table with food displayed atop a silk blue cloth.

"You prepared this?" I looked up at him and he rubbed the back of his neck, his cheeks flushed.

"Is it too much?" I pursed my lips and smiled, I slipped my hand through his lose forgotten one and tightened my grip.

"It's beautiful." I told him, a breeze picked up, fluttering our hair and he shyly looked down, glancing to meet my gaze and paused. I tilted my head to the side as our eyes met, his scent intensified and I smiled at the trace of lust and something else, his cheeks turned pink.