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“What do you mean, you’ve never had a pillow fight?”
Simon dropped the comic he was holding, staring open-mouthed at Raphael.
The older vampire was sitting on his bed, hands folded in his lap, looking overly formal for someone who was sitting in his boyfriend’s familiar room, with said boyfriend ranting and rambling as usual. Simon wasn’t really sure how they’d come to the subject pillow fights but when Raphael had stated that he’d never had had one, that had left the younger vampire speechless.
“I didn’t have time to,” replied Raphael, eyes narrowed. “When I was a mundane, I was always either working or looking out for my brothers. I spent my first years as a vampire learning to control myself and also to wear my cross and utter God’s name, before I eventually met Camille and became her second in command. And since that, pillow fights weren’t even to be considered.”
Simon flailed his arms.
“Not having had a pillow fight is like, not having had a movie night where you pass out from watching too many movies!” he argued, and Raphael just raised one eyebrow.
“Though I’m sure you haven’t done that either,” Simon added under his breath, and started to pace back and forth again. Raphael followed his boyfriend with his eyes, frowning.
“I’ve never seen the appeal of a pillow fight either,” he said, trying to defend himself. “Pillows are meant for your head, when you’re sleeping. Or they’re meant for decoration for your living room or such. They’re not meant to be used as substandard weapons in a fight that only can occur between children,” he finished, seemingly pleased with his speech.
Simon stopped pacing and turned to look at his boyfriend, one eyebrow raised. Raphael met his gaze calmly, a challenging smirk on his lips.
“Only between children, huh?” Simon muttered, before he snatched a pillow from the chair behind him and used both of his arms to forcefully slam the pillow into the clan leader’s head. Raphael was clearly not expecting it because he didn’t have time to react before the pillow made contact with his head, causing him to grunt and fall sideways on the bed. Simon doubled over, nearly crying with laughter.
“What the …?” Raphael cursed to himself, and his hand shot up to rub his temples. He looked so baffled, like he couldn’t believe that he had been taken aback by a pillow.
“You - should have seen … your face!” Simon cried between his laughter, clutching his stomach and pointing at the bewildered clan leader.
Raphael looked at the pillow on the bed next to him, and then he looked at his fledgling, who seemed to be close to passing out from laughter.
Raphael was up in a second, and with the pillow in a secure grip, he raised his arms and struck Simon with the pillow with vampire speed. Simon oompfh ed in surprise, holding up his arms to shield him when Raphael continued to hit him repeatedly with the pillow.
“Not fair!” Simon shrieked, holding up his hands to avoid getting the pillow mashed in his face. Raphael’s teeth were clenched and he looked like he was incapacitating a foe, rather than hitting his boyfriend with a fairly harmless bed accessory.
“I - don’t - have - a - pillow!” Simon yelled, rolling onto his stomach and slithering away like a snake, trying to escape Raphael. However, the other vampire pinned him down to the floor by straddling him, still hitting him almost monotonously with the pillow.
Reaching behind him, and temporarily exposing his face to Raphael’s pillow, Simon’s hand came in contact with another pillow that had been lying on the floor. He grabbed it without thinking and shoved it in Raphael’s deadpan face, causing him to hiss in surprise. A ripping noise was heard and Simon froze. The attacks came to a halt.
Pulling back and clutching his weapon (pillow) to his chest, Simon stared wide-eyed at Raphael who was still sitting on top of him, still with a pillow clutched in his hands. As he had suspected, Raphael’s fangs were out and had ripped the pillow. Meaning that Raphael had his mouth full of the pillow’s insides.
Raphael seemed to be just as surprised as Simon, eyes big as he realized that he had his mouth full of feathers. There was a short break in their fighting when Raphael, slowly, spat out the feathers, licking his lips and scowling with distaste.
“I …” said the older vampire, trying to defend his pride. But Simon just snapped out of his stupor and in one, surprisingly smooth movement, he had Raphael pinned to the floor. His pillow was leaking feathers as he started to smack it in Raphael’s face, causing him to sputter and hiss as feathers were raining around them.
The clan leader was yelling protests in Spanish, that were repeatedly cut off by Simon’s pillow hitting his face. Grabbing his own pillow, Raphael used his bare hands to tear it in two and then proceeded to shove it in Simon’s face. Simon gasped in surprise, which caused him to suck in the feathers into his mouth and promptly choke.
He was in the middle of suffocating (okay, vampires couldn’t suffocate but Simon sure felt like he was) when the door slammed open.
A roused Lily stood in the doorway, eyes wild as she scanned the room for threats. Eventually, her gaze fell on the floor, which was quite a sight; Simon choking with his mouth full of white feathers, while sitting on top of Raphael who was wearing his usual deadpan, unimpressed expression despite being covered in feathers and clutching a ripped pillow in both his hands.
“I …” Lily stuttered, but couldn’t think of what to say. Instead, she just shook her head in disbelief when she met Raphael’s eyes. “I thought you were being murdered, or something. But … I will just leave you to it, then.” She waved her hand at the ripped pillows strewn around them, before retreating , muttering “idiots” under her breath before she closed the door.
Simon stuck two fingers in his mouth, pulling out the last feather and throwing it on the floor.
“Yuck!” he complained, and poked Raphael accusingly in the chest. “Not nice!”
Raphael raised one eyebrow. “Not so fun when it’s done to you, is it?” he drawled, and Simon huffed indignantly.
“You have to admit, that was fun,” Simon demanded, and groaned in exasperation when Raphael simply raised the other eyebrow.
“I don’t know,” the clan leader said, and his hands came to rest on Simon hips. Simon was still straddling him, still holding a few feathers that he dropped when Raphael’s fingers made contact with the skin under his shirt.
“I think this part is slightly more amusing than the violent one,” Raphael commented, smirking as he slid his hands up further under Simon’s shirt. Simon’s breath hitched and he stuttered a response:
“I won, though.”