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You practically fling yourself from the grocery store, paper bags filled with dinner preparations held tight against your chest. You’d lugged home heavy bags of supplies before, so this was nothing! Well, for the most part, sometimes a loaf of bread or piece of fruit would topple out of the bag and plop pathetically on the ground. You internally beg Lady Luck to spare you the embarrassment.
As your thoughts wandered around, a bright green apple teetered and fell out of the bag. You noticed the disturbance a second too late, “oh no!” You hiss, stumbling. A hand suddenly catches the apple. A familiar laugh reaches your ears and you peek from behind your grocery bags, spotting Caleb. “Whoa there, pipsqueak! Looks like you’re biting off more than you can chew again!”
You give Caleb a thankful smile, “thanks, Caleb. I gotta find a less stressful way of doing this…” you sigh, shaking your head slightly. Your lifelong best friend shrugs, humming, “you could always ring me up and I can accompany you to and from the store. I’ve got time,” he suggested, eyeing the apple in his palm. You nod to the apple, “you can eat that if you want, I’ve got like… five more.”
A full grin blessed Caleb’s lips, “really? Thanks, pips!” He gobbles it down with vigor, tossing the core into a trash bin. You and him continue walking, the bags in your arms kind of starting to weigh you down. You didn’t say anything, but you knew Caleb was going to. “Hey, let me help you,” he reached for one of the bags and you turned away. “It’s fine, I got it!” You assure, but he doesn’t buy it. “I don’t think so. C’mon, hand it over.”
You heave a long sigh, not wanting to rely on others. “Oh, alright. Thank you,” you say, pursing your lips. He nods, his light purple eyes glinting as you both walk under a lit streetlight. “Whatcha cookin’?” Caleb asks, “need my help?” Your heart swells at his constant need to provide for you; it was always nice. “It’s okay, Caleb. I’m making cooked salmon and steamed vegetables. It’s been a while since I’ve had any fish.”
Caleb makes a noise of approval, “sounds good. Glad to hear you’ve got everything under control, pips! I remember when you couldn’t even toast bread—!” You elbow him, not hard, but enough to shut up. “We swore to never talk about that,” you nag lightly. Your best friend laughs, “you were so silly! Still are too,” he teases, reaching to pinch your cheek.
You chuckle, catching a glimpse of his bright smile, a touch of red on his cheeks. The both of you reach a vintage crafts market, the warm, welcoming lighting from inside reminding you of someone. The wooden door, engraved with fancy patterns, opens. Out walks— you nearly trip, Caleb supporting you helpfully, “careful! Hehe, correct me if I’m wrong, but your head seems to be in the clouds…”
You can’t take your eyes off of him; Rafayel. He looks dejected, pulling out his phone and checking it almost desperately. His signature pout grows, and he stomps his foot like a child. It suddenly dawns upon you that you haven’t checked your phone in an alarmingly long while. “Shoot. Hey, Caleb? Can you hold these for me?” You hurriedly ask, shoving the grocery bags into his arms before he could respond.
“Sure thing…” he says, curiosity evident in his tone. You whip out your phone, and it’s as you expected. Ten missed calls and 50 messages from Rafayel in the span of four hours. You drag a hand down your face before quickly striding over to the famous artist, shouting, “Rafa! Hey! I’m so sorry!” Rafayel turns to face you, his multicolored eyes shimmering with relief and bliss, “Miss Bodyguard!” He cheers, stowing away his phone before throwing his arms around your neck.
Your arms encircle his waist, and he melts in your hold. Not another second passes before he gasps, pulling away from you and crossing his arms. “Where were you?” He huffs, “I tried calling and texting a thousand times! Today’s your day off, so I don’t see why you couldn’t answer me…” he finishes with a soft sniffle. You lightly caress his arm, “I got caught up in so much again, I didn’t mean to forget about you, I promise.”
The Lemurian’s pout deepens a bit before his cheeks puff out, and he turns his head away from you. “Hmph!” He grunts and you sigh, “are you gonna be a grumpy fish right now?” Rafayel says nothing, and you can’t help but let a grin paint your lips, “I can make it up to you,” you begin, voice soft and velvety, “what do you say I cook you some delicious dinner? Would you like that?” Rafayel’s shoulders quiver, and you can tell he’s on the verge of breaking. “C’mon, you’re not really that mad at me.”
Rafayel finally deflates, whirling around and embracing you fully. “I missed you. I really wanted to show you this awesome crafts store… I thought it’d be okay going alone, but… it wasn’t,” he whimpers, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. Your arms are a tight vice around him, “I’m sorry. I’ll remember to check my phone more often…” you console. The artist continues to nuzzle you, “I’m just happy you’re finally with me,” he sighs dreamily.
“Erm, pips?” Caleb’s voice breaks the spell, and you turn to face Caleb. “Ah, sorry!” You then motion to Rafayel, “this is Rafayel! Rafayel, this is Caleb, my childhood friend.” Caleb and Rafayel are silent, staring each other down. “This isn’t the guy that faked his own death just to ghost you for a year, is it?” The painter asked bitterly, his hands going to his hips. Your best friend’s expression sours, “and I guess this is your fish friend? Surprised he isn’t choking on air.”
“Guys,” you cut in, “this is your first time meeting, so none of that. Caleb, I can hold those now,” you reach for the bags, but Caleb holds them firmly to his chest. “No, no. Let me handle it.” You drop your arms, surrendering immediately, “okay.” You then reach for Rafayel’s hand and he happily accepts your offer, giggling. “Let me help you cook, Miss Bodyguard… please?”
“Aww, but tonight’s all about you, Rafa,” you purr, “how about I draw you a nice, warm bath and you can settle there while I cook~?” Rafayel bites his lip, his cheeks turning scarlet, “I don’t want you bending over backwards for me,” he whispers, “besides, I like cooking. It’s an art form!” You smile at him, “I’ll think about it.” You hear the shuffle of paper bags behind you, and you look back at Caleb. “You okay?” You ask, your brows slightly knitted.
“I’m great! Actually, hey, you know what?” He quickens his pace and walks besides you, tilting his head, “why don’t you go ahead and draw that bath? I’ll help ya cook and fish face can stay outta the way.” As your childhood friend is speaking, you turn your head to face Rafayel. He’s glaring fiery daggers at Caleb, his lips an eerie thin line. You’re taken back to when he’d momentarily lost himself on that raft… fun times. “I have a much better idea. I can take the grocery bags, and you can go back to playing dead,” Rafayel’s sentence veered into a little growl.
“Both of you knock it off,” you demand. “Rafayel, Caleb’s eating dinner with us,” you ignore the artist’s baffled “what?!” And continue, “you both can help me cook. Okay? Now please don’t argue.” Caleb sighs, exasperated, while Rafayel crosses his arms and looks downcast. The rest of the walk back was quiet, and when you finally reached your front door, you unlocked it and held it open. “After you, precious,” you coo to Rafayel, who blushes and titters sweetly. “Thank you, Miss Bodyguard…” he takes an elegant step, but yelps as Caleb shoves him over, stepping hard on his foot, “appreciate it, pipsqueak!”
“A—agh! Ah!” Rafayel cries out, pain flaring up his foot. “Ow! Ow!” He whines and you’re immediately at his aid, “are you okay…?!” The artist grabs you for support, “my foot… it hurts!” He croaks. “Here, let me help you in,” you guide Rafayel inside, sitting him down on the couch, “I’ll get you some ice. Probably best to stay off your foot, fishie,” you say, and he shakes his head. “No, I’m okay! I—it doesn’t hurt anymore! I can still help you! Let me help you!” You kneel down, at eye level with the beautiful man sitting in front of you, “I said this night was about you, didn’t I? Now just relax.”
Rafayel whimpers slightly, watching as you undid his shoes and set them to the side. You slide off his socks, the cool air glazing over his feet. “I want it to be just us two,” he complains, “I don’t want him here…” You caress his cheek, “everything will work itself out. Who knows, maybe you guys’ll end up friends!” The Lemurian’s nose wrinkles and his frown deepens, “that’s gotta be a joke. I am not associating myself with that loser! Not gonna happen! Nope!”
“He knows I can hear him, right?” Caleb yells from the kitchen, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. Rafayel turns away, muttering something in Lemurian. You come to a stand and are quick to return to him with an ice pack the shape of an octopus; his favorite one. You set it carefully on the perfect artist’s wounded foot, and he winces prettily, “ah…! It’s cold…” he sniffles. “Just hold it against your foot, and the swelling will go right down. Let me know if you need anything, okay?” You give him a thumbs up, and he returns it indignantly, pouting.
—
You and Caleb cook a nice, delicious meal. The salmon is cooked to perfection and the vegetables are steamy, buttery and lightly salted. Sparkling apple juice is served alongside the meal, Caleb guzzling it down. “I had a coupon for the juice, so instead of its usual price, it dropped down by a lot,” you say, stuffing a steamed baby carrot into your mouth. “Where do you keep finding all these coupons, pips? I could really use some,” Caleb laughed. “If I told you that, you’d get all the good stuff for a cheaper price,” you tease him.
“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?” Caleb grins, leaning in slightly over the table. You shrug, amused, “I don’t know, what am I saying?” Caleb crosses his arms, shooting you a knowing look, “you get all the best foods because you know they’ll win me over. Did I hit the mark?” Your best friend winks at you. “Hmm, take another guess,” you shoot back humorously. You look at Rafayel, who’s eating in silence. He didn’t want to speak… or so you thought.
“Rafa? Are you enjoying the food?” You ask, and he perks right up at your voice. “Oh, it’s so yummy! You did so good with the salmon, Miss Bodyguard! The flavors collided wonderfully in my mouth, I can’t get enough of it…” He sighed, satisfied. “Caleb actually cooked the salmon! I steamed the vegetables,” I say and the perfect artist’s shoulders droop, “oh. Right. Okay,” he responds flatly. “The steamed veggies are really tasty,” he praised, “you did an amazing job…”
Your cheeks flush, “psh, aww, thank you, fish cake.” Rafayel preens at the nickname before elegantly sipping on his sparkling apple juice. Caleb set down his fork, and looked at you, smiling. “Sooo, I’ve got a question for ya,” he began, and you listened intently. “If you had bestowed upon me a nickname, what would it be?” As soon as the question left his lips, Rafayel set down his glass rather hard, “and where is this coming from?” He inquires, tone dry.
“See, I’ve been hearing pips call you nothing but nicknames. I feel I should get one too, ‘cause I’ve known her since birth ‘n all.” At Caleb’s words, Rafayel seethes quietly, stabbing his salmon with a fork. He immediately calms himself, cutting off a piece with poise, “it’s kinda our thing. Emphasis on our,” he pops the piece into his mouth. “Seems a bit biased though, doesn’t it?” Your best friend asks. “Caleb, I like Ra—!” He cuts you off, “so how about it? Anythin’ come to mind, pipsqueak?”
“Um… okay, let me think… hmm, no, not right now,” you say lamely. The Lemurian hums boastfully, a cocky smile on his sweet lips. Caleb shrugged it off, despite looking a little disappointed, “alright, that’s no problem! Nicknames are tricky, so… yeah, it’s no problem.” The guys and you finish dinner, the empty plates being tucked away in the dishwasher. “Who’s up for a movie?” You ask, drying off your hands by the sink.
“I’m down!” Caleb nods, “an action movie would hit the spot,” he adds, heading over and plopping down onto the couch. The Lemurian cringes, “ugh. There’s always too much happening in action movies! They make my head spin…” he sighs, pressing a delicate hand to his forehead. Your best friend waves him off as if he were a bug, “by all means, sit this out. Do us a favor.” Rafayel stands abruptly from his seat at the table, his cheeks red hot from the sudden spike of anger. “Don’t listen to him, Rafa,” you ease, sitting down next to Caleb.
You beckon him over, “come here.” The famous artist enthusiastically rushes over, claiming the spot next to you with such grace and eagerness. You scoot closer to him, your arm moving to slide around his waist. Rafayel shivers at the sensation, eyes fluttering. He leans in to nuzzle your cheek, and you giggle, “cuddly cuddle fish,” you purr, tipping forward to nuzzle his neck, and he tilts back his head, leaving you more room to nuzzle. “Hehe! That tickles!” Rafayel squeals, “hehehehe!”
Your hands move to tickle his waist, and he flinches, gasping. “Ah—! Ahaha! Stop it! Hahaha!” He guffaws, “please! No more! No more! Hehe…!” You stop your assault and set your hands on his hips. The artist gasps for air, dazed. “You’re a monster,” he pants, a teasing sparkle in his eyes, “I could’ve died, cutie…” You nuzzle his neck again, and he stiffens, letting loose a little moan. “Your fault for being so damn cute…” you retort, voice low.
“Ahem!” Caleb loudly clears his throat, “the movie, guys?” You pull away from Rafayel, and reach for the remote. The artist clings to your arm, whining, “Miss Bodyguard, can we please, please watch a rom—com instead?” You chuckle, his begging planting butterflies in your tummy. “I already called dibs for the action movie,” Caleb butts in, but the Lemurian ignores him, gazing up at you with big doe eyes. “How about we do the action movie first, then the rom—com?” You propose lightly, a pained groan being punched from the artist’s chest.
“Nooo! I’m gonna get dizzyyy!” He protests, “and sooo bored!” You fondly shake your head, “ohh, Rafa. If you want, you can play on your phone while the movie’s going.” Rafayel crosses his arms, puffing out his cheeks, “phone’s also boring…” Caleb faces Rafayel, getting fed up with his childish antics, “you don’t need to be here.” Rafayel purses his lips at Caleb, “I do. I can’t have you boring my bodyguard to death.”
“She likes action movies. I also like action movies. Two against one,” Caleb corrects, scooting closer to you. He sets a hand on your shoulder, and that makes the pretty artist bristle. “If you can’t handle that, then leave us alone,” Caleb adds, further taunting the other. “Hey, he can be here if he wants to be,” you defend, “also, I don’t like how you guys are treating each other. Either be respectful already, or no movies. I’ll send you both home.”
Caleb and Rafayel deflate at your threat. “Alright, alright. Sorry,” Caleb near hisses. Rafayel remains quiet, his lips quivering. He suddenly gets up from the couch and strides away, likely to your room, slamming the door. You look off into the direction he went, frowning. “What is the problem?” You begin angrily, “what don’t either of you like about each other? Huh?” Caleb looks guilty. “I’m sorry, pipsqueak! He brought up a touchy subject!”
“And so you torment him right back? Instead of talking it out like adults?” You cross your arms, glaring at Caleb. “Listen. We’re gonna give him some time. We’re gonna watch the movie, and just let everything be,” you direct, “got it?” Caleb nods, “got it.” You press a few buttons on your remote, and the action movie boisterously begins. You turn up the volume and set the remote down, leaning back and settling in on the couch. Twenty minutes go by and the both of you have your eyes glued to the screen.
“When did this movie come out again?” You ask Caleb, and he answers immediately, “last year I think. Yeah, last year.” You nod, adjusting yourself to get more comfortable. As you watched the movie, your mind wandered to the strange rivalry between Rafayel and Caleb. Other than sensitive topics, why else could they have clashed so badly? You’re so lost in thought that an explosion from the movie makes you jump. Caleb laughs, “did that scare you?” His arm wraps around your shoulders, and he pulls you close.
“I’m not scared, just… thinking,” you assure, and he raises an eyebrow. “Penny for your thoughts?” He asks, turning to look at you fully, and you shake your head. “Nothing that hasn’t been discussed already,” you say, your tone tired. Your best friend turns his attention to the screen, “I’m sorry, pips… I guess… seeing you be all…” he thinks his words over, “cuddly with Rafayel, made me…”
“Jealous?” You ask, sympathetic. He stills for a second before scoffing, “nah. Not jealous, just…” he fails to find the right term. His eyes darted this way and that, as if on a wild goose chase for a better term that doesn’t exist. “You’re jealous,” you repeat, shrugging, and your best friend deflects it— “It’s not jealousy!”
“Then what is it? Trick question! It’s jealousy! Otherwise you wouldn’t have tried so hard to get under Rafa’s skin! You wouldn’t have pushed him out of your way, or stomped on his foot!” You take a long breath, collecting yourself. You breathe out, “what do you call that if not jealousy?”
Caleb said nothing. You decide to stop there, looking back at the TV screen. Now this was just awkward. The movie continued, but to be honest, your interest was washed away, and you couldn’t enjoy yourself. You did your best, however, you did your best to look interested and involved in the events transpiring in the film. You hear a faint click, and your eyes are once again drawn from the screen. A little giggle was heard from the direction Rafayel stormed off to…
“Little Miss Bodyguard~,” Rafayel’s voice crooned sensually. You sit up, eyes wide. Caleb inhales slowly besides you, his annoyance prominent. The Lemurian emerged, his delicate, divine body wrapped in nothing but elegant, silky white robes. He gazed at you with such raw lust, his eyes hooded by thick, long lashes. His skin looked so pristine and soft, you wanted to touch it, taste it. His violet hair was tousled, and he was biting his lip.
You swallow hard, your heart racing painfully. “What’s… what’s all this, Rafayel…?” You stutter out, disbelieving. The pretty painter hums, long and low, “it’s all for you,” he whispers, approaching you slowly. Your heart slams harder against your chest as Rafayel slides into your lap, his arms wrapping around your neck in such a refined way. “Don’t you want it?” He asks, licking his lips. Your hands wrap around him possessively, and he’s as warm and smooth as you thought.
Rafayel giggles, “you can hold me tighter,” he whispers, leaning in to moan into your ear, “don’t let me get away…” He lays a feather light kiss on your ear, moving to look you hungrily in the eyes. You slowly pull him closer and closer, craving the taste of his lips, yearning for the plush sensation— Rafayel is grabbed and pulled away from you. “Ah! Hey!” He snaps, grunting as he’s thrown away, body hitting the floor with a thump. “Agh…!”
“Caleb! What the fuck?” You roar, “why would you do that?!” You try to stand, but Caleb pushes you back down. “Because he was coming on to you!” He yells, and you sputter. “It—! It was mutual, damn it! We both wanted it, didn’t you see?!” You snarl, throwing him off of you. You try to rush to Rafayel, but Caleb snatched your arm, grip tight. “Let go of me, Caleb. Right now.”
“Tell me why, pips. Why would you pick him over me? I’ve been by your side since day one, I’ve wanted you since day one… and you just couldn’t see that! Th—this guy looks like he’d… stab you square in the chest!” His voice gets louder and louder, “it—! He doesn’t deserve you!” He finishes. Rage builds up inside of you, but before you could do anything, a ball of flames hurdles towards Caleb, striking him in the face.
Another ball of flames follows after, and another, and another. Caleb screams as his flesh is singed, as for his clothes, “gahh!” You look down at Rafayel, and his eyes are glowing that same angry cerulean. There were tears flowing down his cheeks, his breathing uneven and heavy. You’re by his side, “Rafa, hey… hey, it’s okay… it’s okay, princess…” Your words of consolation fall upon deaf ears, because Rafayel launches himself toward Caleb, yelling thunderously.
You watch in horror as both men wrestle, Rafayel landing a punch to Caleb’s nose, then his cheek. Caleb growls, kneeing Rafayel in the stomach. “Ugh—!” The artist grunts sharply, setting more of Caleb’s body on fire. Your best friend rips Rafayel off of him using his Evol. Rafayel is floating mid air, thrashing and cursing at him in his mother tongue. “Put him down, Caleb,” you say bluntly. “He burned me!” Your best friend yells, “and broke my nose!”
“You brought up a touchy subject. Now put him down,” you retort. Meanwhile Rafayel stopped thrashing, his arms wrapping around himself as he cried. “Caleb!” You snap, and he complies, setting the artist down. Rafayel sobs into his hands, and you envelop him in a strong hug, lifting him up. His legs wrap around your waist, and his arms are flung around your shoulders. He continues to weep, and you gently shush him, turning around and walking him to your bedroom. Caleb was left alone on the couch, stunned and badly burned.
—
“I hate him…! I hate him!” Rafayel cried as you carefully set him on your bed. “Shh… shh,” you sooth, wiping away his tears. On occasion, a teardrop or two would turn into pearls, falling soundlessly onto the blankets. You shuffle onto the bed, gathering him in your arms, “it’s okay, fishie… it’s okay…” Rafayel shakes his head, “no, it isn’t! It isn’t! He ruined it!” He bawled, his rumpled robes slipping off his alluring shoulders. “I w—wanted you…! And he…! He…!” He gasps for air, “he ruined it!”
“Rafa…” you say softly, kissing his forehead. He sniffled wetly, coughing, “I just wanted to… b—be with you…!” He whines. “I just wanted…!” He gets choked up again, voice breaking, “I—I wanted… wanted…!” As he’s about to heave another sob, you stifle it by pressing your lips against his in a deep, long kiss. He squeaks, body jolting… and then he absolutely melts. “M—! Mm—mmmm…!” He moans, voice cracking.
Your kisses turn sloppy and wet as you slowly push him onto his back. His legs wrap around your waist, his elegant hands at your shoulders. “Mm…mmm…” he whimpers, chasing after your lips when you pull away the first time. You smirk, giving him more, more, more. After a minute, you pulled away with a wet smack, and the Lemurian was gasping deliciously for air.
“Miss Bodyguard…” he pants, a tear sneaking from his eye and sliding to his ear. You wipe it away tenderly, making him smile, his lips kiss ridden and plump. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever, ever seen…” you whisper, and the artist shakily sighs. “I can’t stop looking at you, I can’t stop thinking of you, I can’t stop fantasizing about you… and what pretty noises you’d make just for me.”
Rafayel’s trembling with anticipation, his multicolored eyes lighting up your dimly lit room. “I…! I…! I need you…” he keens, “I really, really need you…! Please…!” He sits up and you do the same, watching as he strips for you, the silk robes falling to his sinful waist. He shifts forward, his luscious lips on yours once again. He’s on his hands and knees before eagerly crawling into your lap, arms securely around your neck.
Wet, hot kisses are noisily exchanged, wet smacks filling your room along with Rafayel’s pleasured, high pitched whining. He pulls away, gulping down lungfuls of air, “Ah—ah! Miss Bodyguard…! Miss Bodyguard…!” He chants, hips hitching. You glance down, his cock beading with pre-cum, and you smile. You look back up at him, getting so lost in his mystical eyes. The artist pants a few times before leaning in and whispering into your ear, “want you… inside of me…”
Your face goes bright red, heat and desire pooling in your stomach. “R—really?” You ask, eyes alight with glee, and he nods giddily, “uh-huh… please. It’s what I’ve always, always wanted…” he falls against you, burying his face into your neck. His hands are resting on your chest, “I’ll take it however you want me to. I’ll be on my hands and knees, I’ll take it while on my back, I’ll even ride you…!” He begs, his hips twitching, causing more pre-cum to gather at his tip.
All of those sounded absolutely thrilling, you didn’t know which to pick. An idea strikes you, “why don’t we do it all~?” You ask, and the Lemurian squeals before nodding hard. “Yes! Yes, please! I’d love that…! Please, please, please!” He moans loudly, bouncing with excitement in your lap. “Alright, eager fishie… I’ll get my strap—on. You just position yourself whichever way you wanna take it first…” Rafayel giggles, scurrying off your lap, “I gotta wait ‘til you get back, Miss Bodyguard…” he whispers, “‘cause I’m gonna ride you.”
—
Caleb knocks on your door as you hit a sweet spot deep inside Rafayel. The Lemurian throws back his head, his body arching beautifully, “ghh—! Ahh~!” He cries out with a smile, his eyes rolled back. “Caleb’s at the door…” you mutter, slowing down a bit. “Mm—! D—don’t slow down…! Please…!” Rafayel sobs, tears pricking his eyes. “H—hard—! Harder…!” He pleads, flinching as Caleb knocks again.
“Pipsqueak…?” Your best friend asks, and bad timing again. You thrust your hips up as he calls for you, and Rafayel wails, “aahhh~! Yes! Right there~! Right—! Ngah~!” You shush him gently, “shh…! Raf, Caleb’s out there…” Rafayel flutters his eyes at you, smiling innocently. “Is he…?” He croaks, and you can tell something naughty is up his sleeve. The painter rises slowly before slamming himself onto your cock repeatedly, shrieking, “oh—! Ohhh~! Miss Bodyguard~! Ahh! Ahh~! A—a—ahh~!”
“Princess…!” You try to quiet him down, but it’s fruitless. He bounces harder on your cock, his perfectly manicured nails clawing your shoulders, “please~! It feels so good! I want more! I want more! Please, give me more~! Ahh!” He’s unstoppable. It turns you on even more. “You… are so naughty,” you growl, “so very naughty, it’s driving me nuts.” Rafayel giggles, brushing his hair back with his hand before winking at you, “what else is new~?”
Caleb says, “yeah, no. Obviously… this is… a bad time.” Rafayel whips his head to the door, disgusted. “It is! Go the fuck away, you sick creep!” He snarls, yelping as you cover his mouth, pull out of him and flip him over. “Ow! Miss Bo—! Ha—!” His eyes go saucer wide as you shove your dick into him from behind. His hands clench the blankets, mouth hanging open, “ah—! Aaah~!” He screamed, his entire front collapsing, his ass in the air.
You plow Rafayel senseless, his cries, shrieks and screams filling you with more and more strength. You figured Caleb had left, because you heard your front door open and shut from the bedroom. “Mmm~! I… I love this~! I love it so much!” Rafayel cries, “I love how you’re so deep…! Mmm! In me…! Can…! Can you go a bit…! Faster—! Ack—!” You’re on it in no time, picking up speed and fucking him frantically.
“Ahh—! Ah! Yes! Oh, oh god, yes~! Ah! Ah! Ah!” Rafayel cheers, choking as his hips buck, “hng—! Ugh~! I—I’m close! I’m close! It’s—!” You rock into him hard, and he gags, “gah—! Agh! Wait—!” He grunts as you thrust again, and again. He bows his head, retching wonderfully as your cock drives harshly into his heat. “I—! I—! I’m gonna—! G—gonna—!” His hips stutter, “Miss—! Augh—! Hrk—!”
White hot ropes of release shoot from his dick, his hips bucking. “Agh~! Ugh! Ohh…!” He cries out, totally destroyed from the inside out. “Miss Bodygaurd…! That was… ahh…” the famous artist sighs, his body glistening with sweat. You slowly pull out of him, undoing your strap on and tossing it aside before collapsing on top of him. “Mmm…” he hums, “so, so, so good…” he whispers, spent and oh so exhausted. “I… didn’t… take you on my back though…” you could hear the pout in his pretty voice. “Tomorrow… we’ll do that tomorrow… right now, I just want to lay here, on top of your beautiful back and play with your beautiful hair…” you pant, and he laughs. “Okay… I like that idea…”
“Um… Miss Bodyguard…?” Rafayel asks quietly after a few minutes. “Hm?” You hum, your cheek pressed to his pleasantly hot, dewy back. “I’m… I’m sorry… for… riling everything up…” he apologizes, voice slurred, “I started it… ‘m sorry…” You nuzzle him deeply, your hands gingerly playing with his hair. “It’s okay, baby… you were still resentful of what… he did…” you slowly finish your sentence, remembering that awful day. You blink yourself from the memory, “don’t worry about it… just rest. You need your rest…” You kiss the back of his head. His breathing had slowed; he was asleep.
—
After cleaning yourself up, you went outside for some fresh air. You were clad in a deep purple robe, and your hair was up in a poorly made bun. You sigh, still recovering from everything that happened that evening. You look to your right, doing a double take as you spot Caleb leaning against your house. “Hey,” he greeted simply. “Hey,” you greet back, “I hope you get it now, Caleb.”
“Get what? What do you mean…?” Your best friend asked. You continue, “after you’d disappeared, I found him; Rafayel. He kept me company while you were gone. He’s done so much for me… he’d filled the gap that… you left in my heart. He’s made me smile, made me laugh the hardest and loudest I’ve ever laughed in… years. I couldn’t help but fall in love with him… and I’m glad I did. Because he’s everything I want. He’s everything I need.”
Caleb lowered his head. “I just want you to respect that… you’ll always be my best friend, Caleb. That won’t change…” you say, voice filled with so much feeling. Caleb took in a long breath through his nose, “I understand. I do. I… I’m sorry… I’m sorry for… everything. I truly am.” You smile softly at him. He reaches and ruffles your hair, “have a good night, pipsqueak.” With that, he strides away, each step carrying regret and longing for a past he won’t get back.
You sigh and wipe the beginnings of tears from your eyes, turning and heading back in. You grab the remote and switch off the TV, staring off into the black screen. “Miss Bodyguard…? Where’d you go?” Rafayel calls and you’re ripped from your thoughts. You turn the lights off and begin your journey back to Rafayel, your boyfriend.