Cause I got issues but you got ‘em too

[Rhys McCabe]

A soft noise of protest escaped him. Didn't he like it, he asked.

"No."

He said it but they both knew he was lying. It was a point of pride to hang onto, some shred of dignity that he refused to let go. Still, his toes curled as he was squeezed, like his entire body wanted to betray him. Was it not bad enough that it decided to grow wings and his own damn hand corrupted himself with the blight? Now he had to deal with this?

Why did he taunt him? If he just let the granny kiss go by, this wouldn't be happening. His hair would still be nicely played with and he could pretend it didn't feel as good as it did. They could just sit there, not acknowledging the kiss at all. Rhys could even just... close his eyes and pretend to sleep after a while. Instead, he had to be a snot and taunt Raphael--whom he did not expect to retaliate.

"Ng." His toes curled again. Why did Raphael keep squeezing him like that? Rhys was a prince; he was accustomed to servants making him feel good. As good as they could manage, anyway. But there were people in the next room. People he'd rather not see him in an even more vulnerable state. He glanced in that direction.

"We're not alone," he said tightly.

[Raphael Malai]

What a prude!

Was something Raphael never thought he would say about Rhys, mostly because he liked his head on his shoulders and not in a basket. But it was true! All of a sudden he cared about people being around! (Lesser beings, they would have said back home, with their noses in the air.) Sighing, Raphael removed his hand and slid off the couch. He sort of slithered off and fell onto the floor to lay in a disappointed heap.

"That means when we're alone, we're doing it, right?!" He glanced up at Rhys with an injured expression. Somewhere below the belt, his body was expressing extreme discomfort. And Margie and Charles were still inside! They hadn't taken a single peek out into the living room, so Raphael totally thought they could have gotten away with it.

Booo!

[Rhys McCabe]

While his body definitely said green to go, his brain said no. Being in a vulnerable state around those people was bad enough. Being caught at it... He frowned. Plus, he would just be proving that bitch woman that she was right. Rhys was nothing if not stubborn about some things.

Still, it seemed like Raphael still had some modicum of his servitude left in him, because he slid off Rhys, allowing him to breathe again. Automatically, his response to that question was a scoff but he didn't immediately answer. There was nothing to lose... right, if nobody else was around...

Wait. Why was he even entertaining these thoughts? Struggling, he forced himself to sit up and though he crossed his legs, he notably placed a throw pillow over his lap. All of his body felt... tired and less than full capacity. It was like when he got sick as a child and his mother had to nurse him back to health. But for days, he was weak and helpless. No wonder it reminded him of being a child. Being sick felt... infantile.

"Maybe," he said, noncommittally. "If you don't tell anybody about it."

[Raphael Malai]

Rather than sitting or standing with his Problem on full display, Raphael laid on the ground face-down, at the foot of the couch. Bray had a nice carpet so it wasn't horrible. He let his head rest on top of his forearms and made a frustrated sound half-way between a grunt and a little scream. He was sort of hoping that if he laid on it, it would go away. Maybe it would flatten itself out and not be so noticeable?

Horrible rotten Rhys McCabe! First he taunted Raphael with his jerk comment and then he pulled Raphael onto the couch and now he was all shy! But realistically, doing it on a couch while Rhys was ill from the effects of the corruption and with two people in the other room was a terrible idea. Or an amazing idea. Raphael wasn't sure which—he was just beginning to discover this new world and he was coming into his own body and sexuality. What he liked, what he disliked, he didn't know in full yet.

"Who would I tell?" His voice was muffled as he still laid there, prone, with his face in his arms. "We're not allowed to leave here anyway!" Besides, nobody wanted the details, probably. Nope, it was just them! Marge and Charles had to leave eventually, he'd bet. And then Rhys was going to get it!

[Rhys McCabe]

"Who wouldn't you tell?" he asked, because it felt like lately, Raphael was sharing everything with everyone. He was lucky Raphael hated Keith so much or they would have been fucked twenty times over by now. Also, sitting as he did wasn't actually helping much. But what was he supposed to do? He supposed he could just sit there and think about Keith's hateful smirk. That was a real... what did the humans call it? A boner killer...?

What a disgusting term. Boner. He moved his pillow slightly to get a better look at what was going on down there. So far, not much was changing. Normally, it didn't even last this long. His consorts knew to do their fucking job and then get out. It really was nothing more than a chore to him. Then as he came into his feelings, it started to become an annoyance. And now... now it was something else.

Putting the pillow back, he sighed. Then he looked down at his hand, where the corruption had started. It was no longer all blackened and veiny, thank... Charles, he supposed.

"We're playing right into their hands," he said softly, not wanting to be heard if they were being eavesdropped on. "You realize that, right?"

[Raphael Malai]

"I'm not a traitor!"

How many times did he have to say it before Rhys believed him? Raphael was a chatterbox but even he knew that some things needed to stay inside his head—things like having sex with someone he cared deeply about! Those memories were meant to be sacred, anyway. Raphael didn't go up to people and start telling them his life story, and even if he might have one time, he was drunk!

"They're not bad people! We attacked them first! Or—Keith did!" Raphael looked up, twisting the upper half of his body so that he could get a glimpse of Rhys sitting up on the couch. Story of his life—he was always one tier lower. Rhys was the prince and he was a mere peasant. Rhys was given the best, trained to become an assassin; Raphael was kind of... fodder, actually. If worst came to worst, he was expected to lay down his life so that the other, more valuable people, could escape.

"You should try to see things from their perspective. Professor Jack just wanted to live a nice life with Bee!"

[Rhys McCabe]

"Keith was doing his job," he said tiredly. Nobody liked Keith but he was at least doing his job... Well, not to Rhys' taste. All this toying and playing with Jack was just prolonging what needed to happen. Bring back the boys. Bring them back so they could become Fallen.

But there seemed to be issues going on with some of them. Jack was currently impenetrable, but Keith said he could break in no matter what his new boyfriend did to protect him. And Niall, he had apparently fucked somebody up, from what Satine said. Rhys heard about it, of course, but the point was, people were protecting them.

"He was never supposed to meet him," he said, still tiredly. "Personally, I think he's a lost cause now and we should just let him go, but it's not up to me, is it?"

[Raphael Malai]

"Keith is a humongous asshat!" Doing his job didn't mean he had to torment Professor Jack for all those years! He could have done it far earlier, if he wanted to make his target fall. Raphael had seen him do it within a matter of days, so all of this was nothing more than a disgusting form of foreplay for him, Raphael was sure.

Scrambling to sit up finally, Raphael laid a pleading hand on Rhys' leg. On the knee—a safe place. "Can't you ask your father to let him go? There are others, aren't there? Professor Jack, he already fell in love with Bee, and it'll be almost impossible now to get him to fall, isn't that right? So if you tell the King that, he would believe you! You're the closest to him..."

And if the King called off the hunt, not even Keith could disobey him. And besides, Keith had Ripper! Raphael didn't see why he couldn't learn to love Ripper—or whatever passed for love in Keith's mind. Not the same thing that most normal people thought of, definitely, when they thought of love. Poor Ripper, too. Raphael liked him. They were the two misfits in the bunch and they got along, he thought, which made leaving him even more sad but... Raphael saw a chance and he had to take it!

[Rhys McCabe]

"I doubt he'll listen to me. He didn't listen to me when he was proud of me... Why would he listen to me now that I'm some kind of..."

Rhys didn't know what word to use for what he had become. Something mutated. Some half feeling thing that started caring for people. Or at least one person. He lowered his gaze, turned it away. Why did it happen? Was he not careful enough? Did he become so bored, so complacent, that he forgot himself? It made sense; maybe his boredom with life had become so all encompassing that he couldn't help but reach for something... less so.

"I don't know what he was thinking, letting them grow here, in this world. They all seem to... have somebody important in their lives." He let out a soft scoffing sound. "Jack and Niall... They were so close to Falling... and for some reason, he let them meet their soulmates."

He didn't understand that. What could the possible motivation for that be? If it was a test, it was a bad one; as soon as they found their soulmate, they were bound and protected by love. And as cheesy as it sounded to Rhys, it was the strongest kind of magic there was.

"They could be Fallen now, if he didn't wait so long. If he got to them before Jack met the prince and before Niall reunited with that hunter."

[Raphael Malai]

"You're perfect just the way you are," exclaimed Raphael mutinously, as though daring anyone to disagree with him. He thought there was nothing wrong with Rhys at all! Everything that he was made him uniquely himself; take away one small portion and he became someone else. Even if he was starting to grow wings, that only made him more interesting and unique in Raphael's eyes!

But he knew realistically that the King would be pissed. Beyond pissed. And whose fault was it that his one loyal, obedient son had sprouted wings? Raphael... who still couldn't believe it. He made Rhys grow wings? There didn't seem to be any other explanation because everyone knew that the only way to undo falling was to experience love, and so... the logical conclusion...

Raphael laid his head against Rhys' knee, looking contemplatively up at him. "A whole fae prince... Professor Jack is lucky. There's something about princes, you know?" Well, obviously there was. Although both Professor Jack and Brayden were princes, and so was Rhys. That hunter man Niall had fallen for, Raphael didn't know about him except from what Satine said when she visited. Maybe he was princely, too.

"What if... even your father couldn't stop it? What if there are other forces at work, putting everyone together?" Raphael knew this was dangerous speculation but he imagined that the King didn't wait this long for fun, just to lose his sons to love. Surely someone else had their hand in this...

[Rhys McCabe]

Of course Raf would say something like that--that he was perfect the way he was. Personally, Rhys was having some serious issues with "who he was" but no amount of sharing that was going to help Raphael see it. He was blinded by... feelings for him. And what did that make Rhys, then? Just as blind? A fool? People never had nice things to say about falling in love.

It was pure reflex but... Rhys laid his hand on top of Raphael's head. And once it was there, it was either snatch it away like it was on fire or just... leave it there and pretend it was totally normal, totally what he meant to do. He would rather have his pride than look like a skittish child... he'd done enough of that for a lifetime already.

"Like who?" Rhys asked, not even able to fathom what force could be at work, putting all these people together and making them fall in love. He let out a soft snort of semi-amusement. "Cupid is real? Angels are... I suppose it's not that far fetched...."

[Raphael Malai]

Hmm... that was nice. That hand on his head, just resting there, a comfortable weight. Raphael's mother never did that for him, not one single time that he could remember. When he was ill, she told him to suck it up. The King didn't tolerate weaklings and neither would the Prince. He had to act like nothing was wrong because people like them, the lower class, didn't have the luxury of being ill—not when they were supposed to devote their entire lives to the royal family. There was no time to snivel, no time to stop and be comforted. He had to soldier on, and that was that.

Emotion welled up at the simple gesture of affection—because that was what it was—and he let it. It was strange, but freeing. He could feel and he revelled in his feelings, no matter if they were happy or sad or otherwise. Some people called that being a drama queen but Raphael knew he wasn't that at all. He just... was experiencing the world all over again!

"Maybe there's a goddess of love. Aphrodite." He grinned at Rhys, reaching up to touch the back of his hand. "Or maybe there is a cupid, who knows? He got you pretty good though! Pew! Dead in the heart!" Cupid got Raphael too, long before he got Rhys, and that was another bullseye! The guy had perfect aim!

[Rhys McCabe]

Annnnd then Raphael had to go and make it weird by touching his hand where it rested on top of Raphael's head. Slowly, Rhys withdrew it. Well, his mistake. He kept forgetting that Raphael was the type to take the whole mile when given just an inch.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that," he said. "But what about the other two? You think whatever it is got to them, too?"

The younger pair weren't as important because Jack and Niall were the ones that were supposed to be ripe enough for the picking. They were both very close to it, actually, and not that long ago. But they had been too slow, too late. Before they got to them, they were swept up in love. Rhys didn't even want to think about himself. But there were two more. Maybe they weren't too late for them yet.

[Raphael Malai]

What? Was it the comment about cupid hitting Rhys in the heart? He was hinting at deeper feelings, yes. The wings were a dead giveaway! It was the white elephant in the room now, to be honest. Raphael wanted to talk about it but he could tell that Rhys didn't, and no amount of cajoling, threatening, bribery or otherwise would induce him to talk about something he didn't want to discuss, which was a real shame.

It sort of left Raphael hanging, if he had to be honest. He couldn't move on, knowing that there could be something between them and wanting it so badly. Yet waiting for Rhys was excruciating, because he also didn't know if Rhys would ever broach the subject and—well, maybe other opportunities were already passing him by.

Still, this wasn't so bad. Raphael frowned at Rhys' other knee when he felt the hand move away and he pulled it back. No. That hand went there. It should stay there, regardless of whatever careless comment he made!

"Are you sure there are only two more?" If the King could have five children, he could have fifty! Who knew how many brothers Rhys actually had?! Raphael thought about the remaining two, though, with a little dissatisfied noise. "Why do you want them to become fallen? Don't you think they'd be happier out here, living a normal life?" Rhys kept talking like he was going right back to doing his father's bidding and that bothered Raphael. And these were his own brothers that he was committing to a fate that Raphael saw as being worse than death. To be stripped of all feeling, to be cast into darkness and despair for the rest of their lives...

How was that ever preferable to being loved and loving someone with a pure heart?!

[Rhys McCabe]

"No..." He wasn't sure of anything when it came to his father. Was this right now a test? He didn't know. Was he supposed to try and rip those wings straight from his own back? He could still hear his father's encouraging tone when he saw what he was doing. That was what he approved of and some part of Rhys had wanted it; his approval. But it didn't matter before. Why did it matter now?

Because. Feelings.

He sighed as his hand was pulled back to its apparently designated spot atop Raphael's head. Why did it matter to Raphael if his hand stayed, anyway? (Why was it important to play pretend earlier when Raphael's hand was in his hair? ...same answer.)

"So... what? You're suggesting I turn coat, too?"