Cause I got issues but you got ‘em too

[Raphael Malai]

"I'm not," Raphael admitted sadly as he looked down at his own useless hands. His abilities were tied in to others'. He could absorb magic and then unleash it, but that had a high probability of killing him. He used to be a magical amplifier but if it was only himself and Rhys, whose magic could he amplify? His powers of hypnosis worked loosely on humans—on other creatures, it was merely 'suggestive.' Raphael was not a royal fae, and so his abilities were weak. What chance did he stand against the King of the Fallen if he chose to reclaim his son?

Marge, though, laughed. She laughed and she patted Rhys on the curly head. "Aww you're a smartie, aren't you? But baby you've got one thing wrong. I don't have to make you care for him."

Raphael struggled to come to terms with her plan. It was to make Rhys... care about him? As in she wanted Rhys to... fall in love with him? Was that a thing? Forcing someone to fall for another?! Raphael couldn't even imagine how he would go about doing that! He wanted it, of course. Oh, goodness. If he could make Rhys love him, he would gladly do it!

"Marge? I don't know—" He was cut off by her glare.

"We're not discussing the plan here. The plan is happening. Okay? Okay. Perfect. Anybody hungry? I made soup."

[Rhys McCabe]

If Rhys could, he would have bitten the woman like an angry dog when she patted him on the head but then he'd just be the dog she was treating him like! He frowned but didn't argue. It was a checkmate situation, wasn't it? Even if he did try to argue, his body had betrayed him. Sprouting wings! Imagine! Him, growing wings.

But they could still get rid of them, even if they grew bigger. Adults Fell all the time. But they were also terrible; they were the kind of people whose entire lives were stained with darkness. Rhys wasn't sure he could say the same. It didn't really count when the things he had done weren't entirely on him. What claim did he have over them when his soul was essentially robbed from him?

Being bored all the time was an agony of its own kind but at the moment, he would have preferred it to this. Rhys didn't like thinking about feelings. He didn't like any of this. Turning his head away from them, he didn't even bother answering about the soup. As he recalled, Raphael asked him about it once and his response had been something like it reminded him of vomit. And it still did. He had no desire for any such thing.

[Raphael Malai]

"Margie? Could we maybe have a moment? Please?" Raphael moved to shield Rhys from them, now that Charles seemed to have finished casting his binding spell and Marge was moving on to delicious soup. It sounded good right about now, something warming and comforting, but he could see that Rhys was having a hard time with being... essentially helpless, and it didn't sit well with him to feel as if everyone else was piling onto him. It just... wasn't the way he knew Rhys to be.

Rhys was cocky, sure. He called himself confident but Raphael knew that he knew he was cocky—when he wasn't speaking in that affected, bored manner to indicate how full of... er... ennui he was. It was a product of his upbringing, really. If he wasn't The Best, he was nothing. That was how the King treated all of his subjects and it was how he treated Rhys, too. The only way for Rhys to gain acceptance was to act like his father in many ways but he wasn't his father. Only Drake Nightshade could be Drake Nightshade and frankly, Raphael was glad that Rhys never bought in wholesale to his father's regime of terror.

It made it easier to stay with him, honestly. In some moments Rhys was more human than Fallen and that helped to smooth over the moments when he could be haughty or insulting or superior. Not all aspects of him were pleasant, but there was enough in there to give Raphael hope. And so seeing him at a low point now, Raphael felt instinctively protective.

After a moment, Marge nodded and took Charles with her into the bedroom. Why the bedroom, he didn't know, but they closed the door and gave them some privacy. Raphael reached out to touch Rhys' shoulder with a soft touch. "I'm sorry," he said as he got to his knees, in order to look over Rhys' back. The area was still corrupted but it seemed smaller now, and the wings were thankfully still there, still glimmering. "I'll try to talk them into letting you go, but could you let them take care of the blight first?" He didn't know they would try to take Rhys hostage! Really, he didn't—if he did, he might not have called them.

[Rhys McCabe]

The blight, he knew, had to be taken care of, regardless. If he let it go, it was just going to start spreading again. And it would leave him nothing but dust. Nobody wanted that, even Rhys. He might say he would rather be dead than have feelings but did anything with a beating heart really think that? Maybe. When Rhys said it, he believed it. But if he hadn't been bound to the area and he was able to leave on his own two legs, where would he even go next? His father said Keith could help but that was only if he was under strict orders. Otherwise, he could only imagine that bastard laughing at his plight.

Sighing, Rhys said, "Fine."

What else could he say, anyway? He was stuck here whether he wanted to be or not. There was no choice in the matter. It was either let them fix him here or risk attempting to get back home on his own. And that wasn't happening because he was hardly in a position to try breaking their stupid spell.

[Raphael Malai]

Wow! Rhys was being... good! And he wasn't putting up half as much of a fight as Raphael expected, given that he was such a warrior. A bored warrior, but a warrior nonetheless. Raphael didn't think Marge and Charles combined could take down Rhys on their best days—if not for this blight, he probably wouldn't be laying back and taking it like this.

Still, it was nice to see this side of him too! Raphael always knew there was more to him than that ever-bored side of him! Smiling, he pulled the fleece blanket on the couch up over Rhys' waist to keep him comfortable and warm. "Good! They're not really that bad, you know, once you get to know them. Ooh! Maybe Professor Jack will come over! And Bee!"

That was exciting, wasn't it? Brothers reuniting after a lifetime of being kept apart? Raphael leaned up against the couch, letting his chin rest on the edge of the cushion. He reached out again and stroked Rhys' hair affectionately, taking this opportunity to touch him—because once Rhys was back to being himself in full, he might never get another chance!

"Do you need anything? Are you thirsty? I can get you some water or juice." That was all Bee had here, sadly. Water or juice. He wasn't very exciting in the drinks department, apparently.

[Rhys McCabe]

"Yay," he said unenthusiastically. Just what he wanted; to meet his elder brother while he was unable to do much of anything. He could barely even move right now. Well, no. That wasn't true. With the blight pushed back, he found he had a little more strength left in him. Maybe he should sit up. At least then he'd feel less helpless. And he hated feeling helpless. He hated. Great. Feelings.

But he didn't make a move to sit up because Raphael was stroking his hair and... well, he could use his current status as an excuse to just... let him. (He couldn't believe he was even thinking it. But there it was.)

"No." He didn't need water or juice. He needed to not be in this position. Ah, if only he didn't go to the bathroom and see that asshole in the mirror. Har har. What would have happened if he just sat there and humored Raphael? Instead of... panicking. Fuck. These damn wings were doing a number on him already.

"You should tell them not to come here," he said. "They'd basically be walking into a trap at this point."

[Raphael Malai]

"I'll tell them you said that but I think they really want to see you though! They were asking all kinds of stuff about you! Not-not like your powers, about you I mean. As a person!"

That was what convinced Raphael that they didn't mean to do Rhys any harm. Otherwise they would have wanted to know his weaknesses and how to get at him! And he never would have told them that, because that would really make him a traitor. But telling them about where Rhys grew up and what his family was like, and how he and Raphael and others attended lessons together, that didn't do much harm.

"Anyway it's hard to convince them... especially Margie." He threw a fearful look over his shoulder at the closed bedroom door. "I know she's just a witch but... she feels like a demon, doesn't she? Professor Jack is much nicer though! I think you'd like him, too, Rhys, if you got to know him." Rhys would probably like all of them if he gave them half a chance!

Raphael continued stroking his hair, since he wasn't protesting—or turning to bite him. Well that was promising! This was much better than playing footsies, he thought.

[Rhys McCabe]

What could they possibly want to know about him? Rhys had never asked questions about Jack or any of his other siblings, for that matter. He knew who they were, what they looked like. He had also been able to observe them from afar, though, which Jack didn't have the luxury of doing.

He couldn't imagine what Raphael could have said about Rhys as a person, though. There wasn't much to him, just a bored prince with little to nothing that interested him. Where did Raphael even get off, liking him, anyway? There wasn't anything to like. It just didn't make sense. A bored prince wasn't interesting. Not even Rhys was interested in himself.

"Some witches come from demon bloodlines," he said dryly but it was also true. They called those types of witches warlocks. The ones who made pacts with demons or gave of themselves to demons in order to spawn demonic half blood children with evil magic. It wouldn't surprise him at all if she was one of those types of witches. She definitely had a demonic sort of presence.

"And it doesn't matter if I like him or not. My father is watching me. That means he knows I'm here."

[Raphael Malai]

Maybe Margie was part-demon then... Yeah, that seemed about right. Raphael got a little shiver down his spine thinking about that and goosebumps rose up all down his arms. Yikes! Demons were nothing to joke about either!

"He knows where all of us are, I'm betting," Raphael sighed. The Fallen King had eyes everywhere, didn't he? And this was sort of important to his Big Plans, whatever they happened to be... But at least if they were all going to die horribly, they could enjoy the moment! The present moment, that was. If death was inevitable, Raphael wanted to have a good time going down!

That was kind of foolish and he knew it, but who said he was smart to begin with?

Thinking along those lines, though... He leaned in and kissed Rhys again. This time Rhys saw him coming so no more heads bouncing off of tables like watermelons! And he didn't explain himself, either. He kissed Rhys because he wanted to, and then he went right back to stroking his hair like nothing ever happened.

[Rhys McCabe]

Good point. Even if Rhys hadn't come here, Raphael had. And if not him, then eventually somebody would know where they were. And... anyway, if they could observe the brothers, then it was a no-brainer that the Fallen King himself could also observe what was happening. He probably knew where they all were at all times. Was he just toying with them all at this point? Or was he testing them? His father was ever so fond of tests, he thought bitterly.

O...
kay.

Even if he saw it coming this time, Rhys didn't have the wherewithal to stop Raphael from kissing him. It was really nothing more than a peck, just like the surprise kiss at the cafe. Just as quickly as his lips were on him, they were gone again. His traitor heart flipped a little in his chest and he hated it for betraying him. (Even if Raphael couldn't see it or feel it, Rhys could!)

He didn't know what the hell possessed him to say it but he said it: "You aren't a very good kisser."

What he should have done was not acknowledge it at all, just the way Raphael did. But no, he had to... taunt him or something. But it was true; it was like Raphael had never kissed a person before. Or only grandmas.

[Raphael Malai]

"And you're a jerk!" Raphael retorted hotly, stung to respond to what was really quite a rude and personal slight! He was good at kissing! He was Very Good at kissing and lots of boys said so! Lots as in... maybe two, out of the four he kissed while he was out here but the point was, he wasn't bad and Rhys was very much out of line here! After all that Raphael did to help him and-and he was being considerate by not sticking his tongue down Rhys' throat and now this!

Now this!

Now this!

Incensed, he rose up and pushed Rhys back against the couch, ensuring that he had nowhere to run—and nowhere to move his head, unless he pressed hard into the back of the couch. Raphael kissed him again, this time not an old person considerate sweet kiss. An angry kiss! A—a pretty heated, sultry, seductive type of kiss that was a lot more passionate than his previous ones. His tongue probed past Rhys' lips, seeking out the hard edges of his teeth and slipping past that, exploring the contours and warmth of his mouth.

For someone who said a lot of downright mean things, Rhys tasted sweet. But there was something a little needy in the kiss too, as a soft moan rumbled in the back of Raphael's throat. He pressed in closer until he was half on the couch and one of his hands slid into Rhys' hair to grasp at the curling, dark mass, Call him a bad kisser now!

[Rhys McCabe]

Yeah! He was a jerk! And he knew it. He didn't feel sorry for saying what he said, though. Because he knew kisses--good kisses. He had plenty of lovers back home; there was no shortage of consorts to spend his evenings with and they were trained in the art of pleasure. They knew how to kiss. And by proxy, so did Rhys. Bored as he was, at least he'd learned a thing or two from those evenings. Even if they were mostly passionless and more an exercise in clearing his mind so it wasn't clouded by his body's desires.

Rhys wasn't actually sure what he expected out of Raphael after taunting him. It was... oddly, it was a part of his mother's bloodline peeking through. The mischief maker, the game player, the toying with somebody merely for the joy of their reaction. He didn't realize that, of course. But that was exactly what it was.

Hm. Now he was trapped in place but... His taunting was not for nothing. It seemed to spark something in Raphael. Something competitive, maybe. Or a will to prove himself. No longer a grandmotherly kiss, this time he delivered something decidedly more passionate. There was no way to ignore it now. Or try to play it off as if he didn't acknowledge it. He'd dug himself into a whole, Rhys did. But somehow... it was hard to care too much.

Embarrassing as it was, the desire in that kiss combined with the way Raphael grasped at his hair sent a wave of pleasure running down his spine; something he couldn't ever remember feeling ever with any consort. It surprised him so much that he actually let out a soft sound in the back of his throat. An embarrassing sort of sound that he wished he could bury immediately after eliciting it.

Push him off, idiot. But he didn't. Instead, he grasped onto the front of Raf's shirt and pulled him back in with a slightly shaking hand to bring him in for another kiss. It was a bad idea from second one but he was running on fumes and new emotions; it was impossible to stop it now.

[Raphael Malai]

The first time Raphael felt anything close to pleasure while kissing someone was out here, with a classmate who had been slowly getting closer to him. He was shy, and Raphael was a bit dense, so it took maybe two or three weeks before the other boy finally worked up the courage to say anything to him. Raphael went along with it; he was still kind of new to this world and he thought maybe having a 'lover' would aid in establishing his cover.

But when they kissed, it started out slow and soft and sweet and then it progressed to the kind of passion that was in the kiss he shared with Rhys. And he loved it. He had never felt anything like it, the way pleasure built up and up and up, the way his groin tensed. The more people he kissed, the more he realized how much he enjoyed it, and also—the more he realized the power of a kiss. It could bring a man to his knees.

Or it could make even a man with a heart of stone react.

He couldn't deny that he absolutely loved the sound Rhys made. It was so... primal. So reactive. No thinking, no stupid ennui, no taunting, just a sound of pure enjoyment and Raphael brought that out of him! He was even smiling as Rhys dragged him in again, and he eagerly pressed into a second, third, fourth kiss. Raphael slipped onto the couch fully; their legs criss-crossed, bodies sliding against one another intimately just as their lips slid together equally intimately. They fit. Their lips, their bodies, there was something innately right about it all.

Raphael might not have had impish fairy blood in him but he was curious enough, playful enough on his own. His free hand—the one not tangled in Rhys' nest of curls—slipped extra low, to that hot, throbbing, sensitive area between the legs. He didn't go beneath Rhys' trousers but he rubbed and squeezed and petted. This was all in good fun. All for fun. His heart pulsed and he was filled with such a strange and indescribable joy, that he couldn't help laughing softly into Rhys' ear after he broke off for a breath. Raphael nibbled on the lobe of that ear too—playfully—even as his hand danced to a different tune between them.

And he was. A good. Kisser. Damnit!

[Rhys McCabe]

Emotions made certain things feel very... very different. A body was a body and it had requirements. Sex, then, had become another such chore in his life; like bathing and eating. Having sex was just something to fulfill a bodily need. Nothing more. There wasn't even any real pleasure in it for him. And he had been far too young to know the difference when his wings were taken away.

This was... unlike anything he had ever felt. The feelings, sensations, emotions. They were all over the place, confusing. His head spun and he didn't know what to think or how to feel. All he knew was that he was clutching onto the front of Raphael's shirt, practically begging for more. It should have been dead embarrassing but it felt too good to be shameful.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew it was a bad idea to not push Raphael off, to tell him to stop. Instead, his eyes closed and his breath hitched in the back of his throat. The electric shock that shot through his body as their groins met... was much stronger than anything he'd felt in his relatively short life. He didn't know how to deal with the sensations in his groin. His legs pressed together around Raphael's hand and then realizing what he was doing, he forced his legs apart. That only made him feel more... wanton.

He slid a hand over Raphael's far too teasing hand in a bid to stop him from doing whatever heavenly thing he was doing to his lower body.

"...stop."

[Raphael Malai]

But Rhys liked it! His body definitely liked it, judging by the state of his arousal. Raphael's hand did pause when bidden but he didn't lift it away. He sort of just left it there, curled around Rhys, ready to restart its ministrations at any given moment. Raphael was sorta ready to go, too! Stopping now felt like a little bit of sweet torture when they could be doing so much more. (Oh, the things they could be doing...)

"Why?" He nuzzled Rhys with the tip of his nose at that soft, tender area right under the ear. "Don't you like it?"

Eagerly he squeezed Rhys again, rather meaningfully. Raphael knew he was no consort, and his skills probably paled in comparison to theirs as he hadn't spent half his life learning how to pleasure another person, but he was doing his best! And... and he was having a lot of fun, honestly. This was what sex was meant to be—not a bodily function or a chore, the way some Fallen treated it.

It was supposed to be fun! Light-hearted, a romp between the sheets for two like-minded consenting people. Rhys telling him to stop sorta took the consenting part out of the equation, but... his body was all for it, Raphael could feel it!

"Just lay back and enjoy it," he whispered as he squeezed Rhys again. "Let me make you feel good."