Work Text:
This was about as familiar as it could possibly be to Haarlep. The silken sheets of the bed under their knees, the hot winds of Avernus drying the sweat on their back, the feeling of a body squirming underneath them? The incubus rolled their hips, almost lazily, sliding along Raphael’s back, not penetrating, not yet, he hadn’t earned that particular reward yet after all. No matter how much he whimpered and arched his back.
“Settle down, you’ll get everything you’re after and more…”
Raphael seemed in no mood to settle down at all, instead pushing up even more against Haarlep, pulling against the soft leather restraints that held him splayed out like a cut of the finest meat across the bed. Haarlep hummed happily at the increased friction but their hands maintained their torturously slow pace as they pushed in and out, tauntingly careful and soft, not giving him what he was truly hungering for.
They could hear Raphael mumbling something, but no words made it past the gag twined around his face. A small trickle of drool ran across his cheek as he twisted around to glare at them, every line of his body screaming his impatience for Haarlep to stop stalling and just get on with it already.
“Now now, patience is a virtue my dear little brat. And one that you really should be learning. Sometimes you need to slow down, not try and seize everything at once, control everything. What would daddy say if he knew you were such an impatient little thing?”
The snort that Raphael gave didn’t need words to express his opinion of that and Haarlep grinned. He pulled his fingers out fully, making Raphael whine and writhe even more, and slicked his hand across himself, pulling in long tight strokes that he knew would be passed down, echoed in the identical body beneath him. Sure enough the familiar shudders underneath him told their own story.
One hand closed tight around the base of Raphael’s tail, pulling sharply on it just for the delight of the muffled noises he made. He really was much more bearable when he couldn’t do more than moan, all those fancy words bottled up and trapped. Haarlep was practically purring as they lined himself up and began to push forward properly, throwing their head back at the burn and tightness, the way Raphael squeezed around them, thrusting up eagerly.
“You’re a -mmm- wanton little whore, that’s all you are.” They told him. “Just begging for anyone to take you, begging for me to take you. What would all those adoring mortals think, all those indebted servants and warlocks and trapped spirits? If they could see the great Raphael now?”
No response back outside of a whimper, Haarlep leaned forward, pushing deeper and further, their hands gliding up Raphael’s back, leaving long red marks behind them, scattered with the occasional droplet of deep crimson blood. The cambion shuddered, falling quiet for a moment as Haarlep luxuriated in them, driving on until they were fully hilted, pressed up against him entirely.
“Ah…there. That’s the Raphael I know, lying there, taking it like a good boy.” They said, placing one hand on Raphael’s hip to steady themselves, the other twining in his hair, tugging sharply on the sweaty locks. They were rewarded with a gasp, and a twitching all down his spine, his tail flicking wildly. Haarlep grinned and began to move, shallow rocking back and forth, taking and giving pleasure and drinking in the heavy atmosphere of arousal. After a second Raphael seemed to join in a little more, matching his rhythm as best he could, clenching around him. He was really so delightful.
The hot breeze through the windows was no match for the sweat either of them were working up, allowing skin to slide across skin as Haarlep rolled their hips forward, tight up against Raphael, pressed so flush it was almost as if they were trying to join themselves permanently. They tilted their head back, fucking into Raphael in just the way they knew he loved, harsh and fast and punishing.
Something wasn’t quite as usual though, and Haarlep tore their mind away from the purely physical sensations of sex to try and pin down what it was. Raphael was jerking against them the way he always did, his tail rising up to smack against Haarlep’s thigh if they dared to slow down for a moment. Perhaps it was the gag? Usually his master would be in full vocal mode at this point, torn between pleading, begging and nonsensical words. Quietness didn’t quite suit somehow. They didn’t slow their movements for a moment as they leaned forward, deftly untying the silken gag and pulling it away from Raphael’s face. There was a brief moment of resistance, it seemed the naughty little brat had been biting on it in the throes of sensation. Still, Haarlep was not to be denied and simply forced their fingers into Raphael’s mouth instead, prying his jaw open and freeing the fabric.
Clearly annoyed by the time wasted on the gag, Raphael bit down hard on their fingers still in his mouth, drawing blood. Haarlep laughed, slamming their hips forward even harder, almost pushing Raphael off the bed, saved only by the leather straps tying him down. Raphael groaned as Haarlep fucked into him in earnest, slamming back and forth. They wrenched their hand free of his teeth, ignoring the blood that coated their fingers as they wrapped them instead around Raphael’s throat, tilting his face back so they could see him properly.
His eyes were shut, something which caused misgivings to suddenly swirl in Haarlep. Raphael was nothing if not narcissistic, he had never known him to not take an opportunity to look at his living mirror when coupled together. There was tension in his neck and jaw, but that was normal, they were fast approaching his climax, Haarlep could feel the tremors throughout his body that indicated they were close.
Not slowing their pace at all, Haarlep wound their tail around, pressing against Raphael’s thigh and underneath his stomach, seeking and finding the cock pressed against the soaked sheets, being rubbed against the silken dampness with every thrust of Haarlep’s hips. Now true alarm shot through them as their sensitive tail felt how soft Raphael was. He had been harder than this when Haarlep had first tied him down, had been eagerly pleading and begging for it before he’d been gagged, and had given every sign of enjoyment up until a few moments ago. Haarlep slowed their movements, unsure of how to proceed. Raphael had never exactly been shy about making his wants and dislikes heard, and he had never reacted like this in all the centuries they had been together.
The slower thrusts appeared to have caught Raphael’s attention however and, before Haarlep could decide on a course of action, the cambion had opened his eyes and glared at the incubus. The heat in his gaze was a clear enough hint that Raphael would not take kindly to any acknowledgement of his struggles, and if Haarlep dared to try they could not expect it to go down well. But this was hardly acceptable either! They mentally scolded the other. Haarlep could hardly feed off an incomplete meal, and Raphael was not going to enjoy sensations without arousal. Frustrated, Haarlep sped up their movements again, aiming themselves perfectly to try and stimulate Raphael as much as possible.
Exactly as they had expected however, the sense of arousal and the delicious tang of sex was fading fast, replaced with tension and frustration. Haarlep ran their tongue along Raphael’s spine, fingers tracing over his back and thighs. He pressed against his prostrate, hammering in again and again, but Raphael’s reactions were more jerking away and tensing up than reciprocating the act and emotions. No matter how much the cambion was ignoring it, he was not going to be able to sink into the appropriate mindset by sheer force of will. Once again, Haarlep was going to have to solve the problem.
“If you’re not going to behave then I will be forced to get rough.” They warned, but Raphael didn’t respond beyond a single grunt and a hitching of breath as Haarlep leaned up, pressing along Raphael’s back. Haarlep gave a mental shug and reached forward again, grasping Raphael’s cheek and turning his face around. Incubus salavia was a potent thing, it would take him far away from his own head, get him lost in arousal and sensation. They could finish up here and then hopefully Haarlep could find out what had set him off like this and avoid doing that again. Without Raphael’s delicate pride being too badly mangled in the process.
Raphael opened his eyes as Haarlep leaned forward. A kiss was the most effective way to get the venom into Raphael, and one he would be less able to push aside or ignore. Haaprlep made brief eye contact with him as he pushed up, opening his mouth very slightly, preparing them both.
“No!”
Haarlep’s head cracked painfully into the wall, wings crumpling behind them. Their tail whipped wildly as they struggled to climb to their feet, teeth and claws bared and braced for the attack. Their ribs ached from the force of the power that had flung them across the room, heat thudding in their chest as they scanned the area for their attacker.
Raphael was kneeling on the bed, eyes practically aflame and wings unfurled. The restraints were torn and burned away and fire wreathed up along both arms, a feral instinctive defence. Haarlep stared, panting. They froze in their movements as Raphael’s glare landed on them. Power seemed to be gathering around the cambion, fury and bloodlust and for one of the few times since Haarlep had met him, the incubus felt he was in actual danger of being killed by the other. He must have flung him away as he’d tried to kiss him.
After a long moment of silence, of Haarlep staying as still as possible to avoid provoking another attack, something in Raphael seemed to deflate. He blinked, more aware of his surroundings, and the gathered fire and power dimmed back down to usual levels. Haarlep let out a sigh of relief, though they remained wary. They still did not know what had originally set Raphael off, and they had no desire to set it off again. Confusion flashed briefly across Raphael’s face, followed by utter fury and humiliation. With sharp jerking movements he pushed himself up and away, not even glancing at Haarlep as he stalked off, out of the boudoir and away.
Left alone, Haarlep straightened up entirely, grimacing as he felt his shoulder grate in a way that indicated a broken bone. He waited a full minute before moving towards the healing baths, but there was no sign or sound of Raphael. They bathed their injuries away easily enough, washing away the gathered sweat and various other fluids as well. As they bathed a silent debtor appeared and began changing the sheets on the bed and righting the damage caused by the outburst. Within a few minutes it was almost as though nothing had happened at all.
Returning to the now clean bed, Haarlep automatically settled themself back into their usual lounging position. They locked their eyes on the shimmering golden doorway, waiting.
Time passed and there was no sign of Raphael, Haarlep’s tail twitched in irritation. The brat couldn’t avoid them forever, and they needed to know what had happened this time so they could avoid it happening in the future. Or was the pest going to avoid his own bedroom for the next however long it took for him to get over his own bruised ego. Honestly, he hadn’t even been the injured party here! But there was never any point in chasing him down, he’d only get even more offended and stubborn and Haarlep would be back further than where they started.
They slept, and woke to find Raphael had not returned. The pattern continued itself and Haarlep was torn between frustration and a gnawing, growing sense of worry. It wasn’t like Raphael to avoid a problem. He was proud, stubborn and too egocentric to ever know when to back away. For Hell’s sake, he’d raged for ten years about that damned crown being locked away from him! What was so much worse about sex that hadn’t gone the way he had hoped?
Another long slow boring day passed in Avernus. Haarlep picked disconsolately at the platter of fruit that had been brought to them. The hunger that was beginning to prick at their bones and make its demanding presence known was not one that could be eased by fruit. Slow irritation was building up inside, it was one thing for Raphael to sulk like a child because he was embarrassed about underperforming, it was quite another to force Haarlep to go hungry over it. He would have to return soon, they had made a contract long ago, and providing Haarlep with substance was a key part of it. The thought was encouraging, the stalemate could not go on for too much longer, eventually Raphael would be forced to return and then Haarlep would be able to tie the stubborn idiot down if needed and get some answers out of him.
The arrival of a debtor was an unwelcome surprise. Well, welcome in that Haarlep now had a means of satisfying their hunger, but the implications were more concerning. How long would Raphael drag this out for? They took their meal perfunctory, barely paying attention to the squirming mortal that had been delivered to them.
Time passed. Three more meals were delivered to them, but not sight nor sound of the master of the house. Oh, they were around and about, Haarlep knew that. The business of the House of Hope continued as it always had, with new debtors and souls being added, the staff being monitored, and the portal room busy with the comings and goings of Raphael and whichever members of staff he had permitted to travel between the realms. But no luck on actually existing in the same room as him, Haarlep hadn’t even been able to catch a glimpse of him, no matter what times they wandered from the boudoir to seek him out. He must be sleeping in one of his many houses in the material plane, because the large, obscenely comfortable bed had only contained Haarlep for far too long.
They were beginning to fear that something had permanently broken between them, that Raphael would never get over whatever embarrassment or fury he was feeling, and that Haarlep would either find themself ignored for the next few centuries, or sent back to Mephistopheles. Neither of which were fates they were eager to try. They rather liked their current existence, even with a spoiled princeling to serve, they had a comfortable place, good food, whatever entertainment they requested brought to them, within reason, and a welcome feeling of safety compared to the majority of Avernus. Losing this would not be a minor inconvenience. And yet they could not think of a way to restore their position. Not if Raphael was going to continue avoiding them, not if they still were not certain what had triggered the problem in the first place.
These thoughts and similar were winding around their head as they poked uninterestedly through the wardrobe. It was late enough that most of the House were asleep or at least hidden away in their rooms and sleeping quarters. No sign of Raphael, but that was almost expected by now. They had just pulled out a pair of velvet trousers to consider when a familiar tread caught their attention. They straightened up, turning to look towards the entrance in sheer surprise, it had been so long.
But the figure was unmistakable. In his human guise, Raphael was walking back into the boudoir once more. He didn’t look over at Haarlep, instead ignoring him utterly as he moved carefully towards the centre of the room. Actually, he was limping more than just moving. Brow furrowing, Haarlep drifted a little closer to observe. Raphael’s footsteps were much slower and more halting than usual, and there was a tightness to his shoulders that spoke of careful, deliberate control. He made slow, single minded progress towards the baths, with the healing water and spells to restore flesh and spirit. At least it explained why he had finally approached Haarlep’s territory, and perhaps they should be grateful that clearly Raphael had needed the healing enough to swallow whatever misgivings they had and enter.
“Stop just staring and make yourself useful.” Raphael snapped from the edge of the baths. He hadn’t looked up at Haarlep, but then, he surely knew that the incubus would be in these rooms. Where else would he be?
“Of course,” they said, approaching without any further hesitation. After all, they were here to serve Raphael really, in whatever capacity he wanted them. And if he was badly enough hurt to be asking for their help in the first place…well, withholding it for any reason would only end badly for everyone involved. He seemed to be having trouble getting the tightly tailored doublet off without twisting his arms too far. Haarlep could smell blood and rotting necrotic flesh now that he was closer, a pungent scent that told its own tale of wounds hidden beneath the human looking skin.
Undressing Raphael was at least a familiar task, the same feeling of fine fabrics and cloths being eased away from him, the same buttons and ties that Raphael preferred and the exact same style of outfit. Haarlep wasn’t sure why they had almost expected it to change in the few months that Raphael had been absent from his own chambers. But it was the same. What wasn’t the same was Raphael’s occasional hisses of pain as Haarlep slid sleeves down arms that looked completely untouched, but they were certain were a mess of bruises and blood underneath the human disguise. At first they wondered why he kept the disguise up, he didn’t have to hide potential injuries from Haarlep the way he might from the other staff in the House of Hope. Then they realised, as they began to slide the shirt off fully, it was to avoid having to manoeuvre wings and tail through the outfit. Evidenced by the fact that once his torso was bare, Raphael dropped back into his true form, wings unfurling behind him.
“What have you gotten yourself into my dear.” Haarlep asked, not expecting an answer really as he surveyed the claw marks running across Raphael’s entire back, pulsing with necromantic energy and deep enough that they could see flashes of bone beneath the torn flesh. The skin across his arms looked almost scoured away, as though he had crashed to the ground and braced himself at the expense of his arms. An ugly looking burn twined up his chest, and there was a sword thrust into his side that still had a piece of barbed metal embedded in it. Which explained why he hadn’t just climbed straight into the water, you didn’t want to heal a wound around a piece of metal, not unless you wanted to embed it into your flesh to cause more pain and problems for later. They dug their claws into the wound, gently pulling the wicked shard of metal free and dropping it on the floor, ignoring the pained lashing of Raphael’s tail and the indrawn hiss. It had to be removed, they both knew that.
“That’s hardly any of your business.” Raphael said, the words short and the tone forbidding. Most people would definitely have been put off by the glare he was levelling at Haarlep as they knelt down in front of him to begin removing the trousers and fancy shoes that he was so attached to. But Haarlep had faced worse than Raphael being snippy at him and simply smiled up at the other as he worked.
There were injuries on his lower half as well, more claw marks and what looked like a bite deeply embedded in one thigh. Whatever Raphael had been tangling with, it had been strong, powerful and Haarlep would wager it might have had a good chance of actually taking his master down.
“Were you trying to flirt with Zariel again?” They asked lightly, tossing the last of the clothes aside and rising to their feet to help Raphael into the healing water. The cambion glowered at him and pushed Haarlep aside, limping towards the water under his own power. “Or perhaps Beezelbub? I hear the Lord of the Flies is simply desperate for a new consort!”
“Shut your mouth before I rip your entire jaw off.” Raphael threatened, but he made no actual move to attack, so Haarlep judged they were fairly safe for now. They hovered, but did not reach out to actually help as Raphael lowered himself into the steaming water. An open expression of relief flickered across his face as the potent magics immediately began purging and healing his many many wounds. The beautiful sight of the thin trails of blood swirling in the heated water was almost mesmerising. Haarlep settled down cross legged on the edge of the pool, waiting patiently as Raphael settled down, leaning back further to allow the water to wash away both the wounds and the sweat and dirt of battle. After a moment he opened one eye and glared at Haarlep. The message was unmistakable and Haarlep grinned and moved to grab the soaps to wash Raphael’s perfectly kept hair. Vain little brat…and yet Haarlep had somehow missed this. They let the quiet fall between them for a while, just focussing on physical sensations.
“Are there any other hurts?” They asked at last. Raphael seemed to stir, opening his eyes again.
“Nothing that rest and this won’t heal.”
“Any danger to the House?”
“Not any more.” Raphael said with dark satisfaction. Haarlep continued to rinse the hair carefully around his horns, knowing that soap left to dry there would be maddeningly itchy later on.
“Will you rest here tonight?” They asked. “Or are you back to hiding in the material plane again once you’re healed?”
“What are you implying?” Raphael asked, voice dangerously low. Haarlep tightened their grip on their master’s hair as he shifted, continuing to work in soap and run their fingers through the fine strands. The mixed messages of this pleasure seemed more effective at holding him in place than sheer force would have been.
“I’m implying that you have been hiding away from me. From this room. From yourself really,” they stated. “I’m implying that you’ve discovered an issue and, rather than facing it and overcoming it, you’ve retreated to sulk and lick your wounds. Why else would you have avoided your own bed and your own incubus for so long if you weren’t afraid?”
Raphael snarled, pulling out of Haarlep’s hands and whipping around to glare at them, half rising up in an attempt to loom over them. It would possibly have been a more impressive display if they hadn’t still been half covered with soap suds and dripping wet. As it was Haarlep just leaned back and waited.
“I am not afraid of you! Of anything!” Raphael said at last, when it became clear that Haarlep wasn’t about to speak again.
“Then do explain why you haven’t been here for months. You’ve never been absent for this long before, and certainly not without good reason.”
“What I do with my own time is none of your concern. You don’t even have the wit to understand it anyway.”
“Perhaps not, but I think I can make a claim to understand you by now Raphael.” Haarlep mused, leaning forward and resting their arms on their knees.
“Oh?” The silky soft tone would have signalled danger to anyone else, but Haarlep continued their conversation as though it were the most pleasant they had ever had. Raphael narrowed his eyes at them.
“Mmm. After all, I am you. Who else could possibly understand your foibles, your flaws, your own intricate thoughts and desires,” they looked up into their living almost mirror. Raphael had changed as the centuries had gone by, and Haarlep hadn’t, his glamour remaining exactly as it had been the first time he had donned it.
“And what exactly is it that you think you understand then?”
“That something happened when we last had sex.” The time for dancing around the issue was over. Haarlep might only have this one chance to talk to Raphael in months, being delicate about it would not help. “Something that spooked you badly enough that you haven’t been able to face me ever since. Whether that’s from embarrassment or something else I don’t know, nor do I really care. But what I do know is that until we actually talk about what it was it’s not going to improve. You can’t just ignore a problem until it disappears, not when the problem is within yourself.” Though he had no doubt that Raphael would try.
Fully as expected Raphael looked outraged at the idea that he might be having difficulties, or that his reaction had been in any way other than perfectly justified. His tail was lashing like an angry cat as he explained, no doubt at great length and with enormous amounts of detail and eloquence why Haarlep was entirely mistaken, not to mention out of their place and should be grovelling at his feet for even thinking such treacherous thoughts. Haarlep assumed that was what he was saying at any rate, he had tuned out most of the shouting and pacing and was simply waiting for his oh so dignified master to run out of steam and settle back down.
After a few long minutes the noise finally slowed and stopped and Haarlep glanced up. Raphael was rubbing a hand across his face, an uncharacteristically exhausted expression visible. The injuries must have taken a lot out of him it seemed. Some things truly needed rest to heal properly, magic just wasn’t the same.
Fluidly pushing themself to their feet they extended their hands to Raphael, giving him their best, most charming, incubus smile. It was one they knew was hard to resist, and as expected Raphael wavered slightly, the affronted expression fading just a little. He’d let his temper out and was now ready to be soothed and pampered.
“Come to bed.” Haarlep cooed. “You’ve been through a hard battle, don’t you deserve to actually sleep in your own bed, rather than up in the chaos of the mortal realm? With your own sheets and in the warmth of your House. Stop denying yourself the luxuries you know you want.”
“I’ve no desire for your attentions tonight.” Raphael growled.
“I shall be as good as gold, I swear on my beautiful face.”
WIth a sigh, and an expression that implied he was somehow doing Haarlep an enormous favour by his capitulation, Raphael stepped out of the water, waving himself dry with a casual hand and began a purposeful walk towards the bed, Haarlep drifting behind him, hiding their triumphant grin. Really, Raphael was so easy to manage at times. As the cambion stretched himself out across the bed, sprawling enough to take over most of the space, even with as gargantuan as this bed was, Haarlep lifted themself over to settle down beside them. Practised hands massaged and smoothed over his back, rubbing away the knots of tension and stress and after a moment where he seemed to consider fighting the attention, Raphael melted, eyes sliding shut as he luxuriated in the sensations. He let out a pleased rumbling sound that almost made Haarlep grin fondly.
They let this go on for a while, letting Raphael sink into a sense of safety and comfort, within his familiar surroundings and with his familiar incubus paying him the attention he so often demanded. Once he was beginning to drift into the first stages of sleep they pounced. Metaphorically speaking of course, after all, they had promised to be good, no matter how long it had been since they had been able to enjoy Raphael.
“So, what was it then?”
“Mmmm?”
“That set you off the last time we were together. You weren’t enjoying yourself even before whatever it was made you completely lose control.”
“Haarlep.”
“Yes?”
“Drop it.”
“Ah yes, because your method for dealing with it has worked out so well. You may as well talk Raphael, because otherwise I’m going to start theorising.”
“I will cut your eyeballs from your head and feed them to you.” He threatened, but he barely made a twitch of movement, so Haarlep decided they were fairly safe.
“Or you could simply talk about it, and then you might be able to actually put it behind you once and for all, instead of it haunting you for months and months.”
Raphael fell silent, his eyes sliding shut as he stilled. For a moment Haarlep wondered if he was actually going to fall asleep instead of answering, but then they felt him take in a deep breath as they massaged around the base of his wings. Thinking then, not simply drifting off. Well, Haarlep could be patient if that were the case, they only hoped he was actually thinking about something productive rather than getting lost in plans to steal that damned crown or to gain further power and prestige in the Hells.
They weren’t keeping track of time, but it must have been at least a couple of hours before Raphael did speak again, and his voice was quiet enough that if Haarlep hadn’t been listening for and expecting it they would have missed it entirely.
“You mentioned my father.” Raphael said, his tone almost surprised, as though he hadn’t the pieces together himself. Possibly he hadn’t, devils were not known to be particularly introspective. Haarlep made an encouraging hum, but didn’t stop the languid petting they were giving him. Raphael’s tail flicked a little, though they didn’t open their eyes.
“You mentioned him, and then the idea of people watching me? And…the idea of him watching us, invading the sanctuary I have here, the privacy. I had it under control though, I did, I was getting there, relaxing back into it-” Haarlep had their doubts about that honestly, but they kept quiet about them for now, “-but then you moved forward and all I saw were teeth.”
“You say that like it’s a full explanation.” Haarlep prompted after it became clear that Raphael wasn’t going to elaborate.
“I have no wish to be devoured by my father again.” He said flatly. “And seeing as he was in my mind and there were suddenly teeth lunging for my throat I reacted. It was…unnecessary.”
That was probably about the closest Haarlep would ever get to an apology for flinging them across the room and breaking their arm, but frankly the pain and injury were inconsequential. They had both given and received worse in normal nights spent with Rapahel. And at least now they had an actual answer as to what had started the whole mess. Even if it had taken literal months, a fight with something powerful and all of Haarlep’s charm to get there. Mephistopheles was a powerful and cruel lord, and Haarlep was aware that Raphael had occasionally ended up being disciplined by him, sometimes for months at a time. Their master had never given any details about what happened during those incidents, and Haarlep was hardly going to ask, they were an incubus, not a therapist. They leaned forward, pressing soft kisses along Raphael’s spine and letting their tail twine comfortably around his ankle.
“Then I will make sure to not conflate those two again.” They said. They did not promise to not mention Mephistopheles again, it was a wonderful trick to rile Raphael up that didn’t usually backfire, and they certainly weren’t going to promise not to kiss him again, their lovely little brat needed that extra push far too often it felt like. But keep the two apart. “And we shouldn’t have any more trouble. You can stop avoiding me and our bed, and I can get back to enjoying my usual hedonism.”
“As though you’ve been doing anything but, lazy whore.” Raphael rejoined, sounding half asleep.
“I will admit I’ve missed you, despite everything. Foolish of me I’m aware.” They said. Raphael let out a snort of disbelief that still somehow managed to contain a sense of pleasure. Arrogant brat. Haarlep’s arrogant brat however, and not one they had any intention of losing to something as ridiculous as a bad bout of sex and a fairly impressively over the top sulk about it.
He seemed to be falling asleep fully now, worn out by everything and Haarlep hesitated a moment before settling down beside him. They didn’t usually do this, Raphael was, frankly, a terrible person to share a bed with for sleeping, and it wasn’t as though Haarlep didn’t get plenty of opportunities to nap while Raphael was off doing his terribly terribly important business. But he didn’t object as Haaarlep lay themself down, one leg tangled with Raphael’s and their wing half outstretched along his back. He didn’t acknowledge it either, but when Haarlep’s tail twitched forward, Raphael’s was already lying beside it, ready to be wound safely together. They took in a contented breath and closed their eyes, listening to the steady breathing, the ever present sounds of running water and distant screams and the murmurs of the fabric curtains rustling in the hot breeze from the hells themselves.