'Legend shall speak of sacrifice at world's end. The wind sails over the water's surface quietly, but surely'
Xander watched with barely concealed impatience as Raphael changed for bed, those glowing emerald eyes with their cat-like tilt tracking each and every movement he made. Raphael was well aware of the possessive gaze as he began to shed his clothing, and exulted in the effect only he seemed to have on the idol so many worshipped. He took his time as he undressed, removing his clothing one small piece at a time, his every motion calculated to tease and entice. He started with the thigh-high boots that hugged his long legs, making sure to linger over the task. His slim white hands unfastened the silver buckles that kept them in place, again moving with that same agonizing lack of speed. Who said he didn't have patience?
He very carefully peeled the smooth midnight leather away, knowing how much Xander loved the contrast of all that dark leather against his creamy skin. He kept his gaze averted, seemingly focused only on the task at hand, all the while watching the other man out of the corner of his eye. Xander was watching him, not just his movements, but him with unwavering intensity. The mighty general had always loved this particular game, but this time, there was something different in those radiant green orbs. Not just lust, although there was no doubting his arousal. No, there was a gentle, almost tender look in the depths of his brilliant eyes, more reminiscent of the expression Sephiroth usually wore after they'd had sex.
Xander had always been good at hiding at his feelings, so much so that most people believed he had none. As his closest friend and only lover, Raphael knew better. Xander's emotions ran deep, even if he rarely showed them. That he was showing them now, after the way Raphael had hurt him last month, was what surprised him. It was the last thing he had expected, and he wasn't quite sure what to make of it.
Not that he would let that stop him, Raphael thought, dropping one boot carelessly to the floor. The other followed a few moments later, hitting the plush gray carpet with a dull thud. The long scarlet trench coat that had become his signature was next. It slid smoothly down his arms, aided by the heavy black pauldrons that adorned the shoulders. It landed in a crimson pool around his bare feet, forgotten even as he kicked it aside.
He turned slightly, taking refuge behind his hair, as he unfastened the crisscrossing weapon's harness that he never used. He went to work on the two buckles that held the harness' belt in place, drawing on every last ounce of patience he possessed to keep his movements slow and seductive. At last, it too dropped to the floor, the large buckle that sported the Bable logo glinting almost mockingly in the dim light of the bedside lamp.
He grasped the bottom of the sleeveless roll-neck shirt that was issued to every TANTARAs 2nd Class and up, pulling it up his chiseled torso and over his head. He tossed it to the floor with a casual flick of the wrist, reaching up to fluff his layered auburn hair. It tousled more becomingly around his face, an effect he that was very aware of as he lifted his eyes to the other man's. Xander's icy green eyes flared with heat, and he smirked arrogantly in return.
Raphael lifted his chin as though in challenge and set his hands on the waistband of his leather pants. He paused there, his deep blue eyes locking on the other man's, one fiery brow arched in query. The low growl that reverberated through the darkened bedroom did wonders for his ego, as well as adding to his own considerable arousal, and he couldn't contain a pleased chuckle.
Holding Xander's gaze with his own, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled the zipper down with exaggeratedly slow movements. Those gleaming emerald orbs flickered for a moment before dropping lower, unable to resist the temptation he was presenting. His heartbeat doubled as Xander devoured him with his eyes, his gaze locked on the partially revealed length of his erection. Angelic features hardened with predatory intent as pure lust shone from brilliant mako eyes, and Raphael had to fight to keep his hands steady as he very deliberately pushed the pants over his hips.
His name was whispered in a deep, rough growl and Raphael couldn't hide his satisfaction as he gracefully pulled the soft leather down his legs. He kicked them aside negligently, basking in the desire the other man couldn't hide, as he made his way towards the bed, his unhurried stride full of the feline grace that had earned him his oftentimes hated nickname.
As he neared the bed, he fully expected to be tackled and fucked into oblivion, something he could admit-if only to himself—that he had truly missed. His performance had been calculated to make Xander lose control, after all. Much to his astonishment, he found himself able to climb onto the bed and finish his sensual performance with a long, slow, sinuous stretch that showed his muscled body to its best advantage.
Xander couldn't halt the low, appreciative sound that escaped his lips as Raphael slid into bed beside him. The older man only smirked knowingly, making a show of stretching his lithe body, before settling back onto the pillows, his expression as smug as Xander had ever seen it.
A low laugh escaped Xander as he carefully inched closer, conscious of the pain throbbing through his midsection as it mixed with the heady sensation of arousal. His pale eyes roved over the aristocratic features that had existed only in his memories for so long, eagerly cataloguing each and every nuance of Raphael Rosewald. "Are we friends, again?" he asked, suddenly solemn, needing verbal confirmation before this went any further.
Raphael looked up at him with those blue, blue eyes, looking so vulnerable that it was all he could do not to weep at the sheer beauty of him. "We were always friends," he whispered, adding in a stronger voice, "even if one of us was acting like an asshole."
Xander quirked one silver brow at that. "And which one of us would that be?" he inquired facetiously.
Raphael's smile was positively angelic as he replied, "Why, you, of course."
"That's my Kucing," Xander all but purred in response. He lifted his left hand to Raphael's face slowly, giving the other man time to pull away. Despite the incredibly erotic striptease, they hadn't parted on the best of terms, and had only been reunited through a crisis. He knew better than to assume all was well between them.
When Raphael lifted himself into the touch, a ragged breath escaping his parted lips, Xander found himself thanking the very goddess that had doomed them in the first place for this boon. A second chance, he thought with humbled awe. What had he ever done in his miserable existence to be judged worthy of such a thing?
His thumb swept over the high arch of one noble cheekbone, and Raphael's breath caught in a wholly sensual way. "Goddess, but I missed you," the other man breathed passionately. "Don't ever let me do that again, Xander. I hate sleeping alone."
"I hate sleeping without you," Xander countered with blunt honesty.
Raphael sighed, too pleased by his words to worried by the emotion behind them, and brushed his lips over the other man's. "Can we get on with this?" he murmured into the kiss. "I'm so horny I'm about to burst."
Xander smiled at the undeniably crude yet oddly endearing confession. It was so comfortingly typical of the man he remembered. He lowered his head slightly and brushed those mobile lips with his own. Raphael made an impatient sound and deepened the kiss, his deep groan echoed by Xander as a silky tongue immediately twined with his. Xander ignored his instincts, which clamored for him to crush the hard, muscled body beneath his own in a sensual fury. Instead, he shifted, lifting Raphael without breaking contact, maneuvering the other man until he was lying across him. His sore stomach protested the extra weight, but he ignored it, intent on giving Raphael something he truly seemed to need. They had only done it this way once before, and he had always wanted to try it a second time. While they would have to be cautious, he saw no reason not to immediately begin building a more solid foundation for their friendship. If trust had been lacking before, he would give more of his own, and hope that Raphael did the same.
Raphael raised his head as the kiss became too much for him. He looked down at Xander with a sensual, faintly puzzled expression. His breathing echoed harshly through the quiet room, as did Xander's, telling of their mutual need. Still, he made no move to take the invitation which had been given, leaving Xander to wonder why.
"It's all right, Raph." He reached up and laced his hand through those wonderfully fiery strands, his thumb rubbing Raphael's scalp in a comforting manner. "You won't hurt me, if that's why you're hesitating."
"Xan. . ." Raphael tilted his head, cat-like, into the soothing touch. He absolutely loved it when Xander played with his hair. He uttered a happy, contented sigh, opening eyes he hadn't realized he'd closed to gaze down at the other man. "We really shouldn't. Not tonight, anyway."