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Poetry.
That’s what he was, a song written in lyrics designed to enthral whilst the music of his rhyme captured Tav’s heart and soul.
Thief.
Though he would never admit to such a word being applied to himself, he stole the stage he walked upon, took the spotlight and outshone even that.
Playwrite.
The script he wrote became a performance all were drawn to, characters populating his world, a whole cast of little mice rushing through the maze and hoping to find the promised prize at the centre.
Raphael.
A Devil in name and nature, and yet he was also far more than the abject evil of old fairy tales written to warn Tav away from the temptation - temptation which evidently they had not been warned clearly enough about as they let him lead them in a waltz of his own composition. He called himself a saviour, once, and perhaps it would amuse him to see the daydreams in Tav’s head of the devil as the knight in shining armour, the prince coming to sweep them off their feet.
And yet…no romance novel printed on cheap parchment could compare to the image of the cambion dressed in his finest silks, hair swept back between horns that curved wickedly above like a crown without jewels. Raphael was purple prose brought to life on reality’s page, a vivid violet swirl of perfect cursive script spelling out the poise and grace he wove into every word and motion.
It didn’t take a contract to have Tav accepting the hand offered to them, to follow him onto the dancefloor that appeared around them as the reality of the mundane melted away. Perhaps the ease in which he transported them both across planes without so much as a question first should have been a concern, but their only worry now was putting a foot astray in the devil’s dance.
—
Raphael smiled. His favourite client, his Little Mouse, and they were radiant in the glow of his glory. A simple spell had transformed their dreary armour into fine silks that far better matched their status at his side - the soon-to-be Archduke of the Hells could not allow appearances to slide, even without any audience.
How he loved the way they hesitated for half a second before placing their small hand within his own, the way he could hear their heart stop for just a moment as his claws closed around their fingers. Such a fragile mortal soul, and yet Raphael could not deny that they had impressed him. He had told them once, that he had grown fond of them in his own way, and not one syllable of that had been a lie.
—
“Where’s the orchestra?” Tav finally found their voice in the genuine confusion at how there was now a swirl of beautiful music wrapping around them, as they gazed up towards the Cambion’s stern features as if looking for their answer in the charming wrinkles that decorated his face so beautifu-
“The invisible choir sing when they are bidden, Little Mouse.” He spoke with a slight smile in the edge of his voice, the implication of a hundred lost souls just out of sight and at his command… It was not helping slow the rate of Tav’s racing heart. Raphael held such power so easily, so casually… His words were law, and his laws were as immutable as the Devil’s own capricious charms. “Do you not like the melody? It can be changed in but a moment if-”
“No, no! It’s wonderful, really.” Tav almost bit their own tongue to punish it when they realised they had interrupted him mid-sentence. “I- Sorry I didn’t mean to…” Their voice lost all power under the burning gaze of the cambion above them, though to their surprise his expression creased into a smile within a moment.
“Music, Mouse, was made to be danced to.” Raphael pulled them closer, one hand still entwined with theirs, his other wrapping easily around their waist. It was difficult to reach his shoulder when he was in this form, so Tav had to settle for gripping the sleeve that barely hid the strength beneath.
The musicians, still unseen, rose to a crescendo with a swell of strings as the devil began to lead their dance.
Masterful feet wove a path around the ballroom, sweeping Tav between the shadows of a hundred fellow dancers who had neglected to attend the grandiose event made for two. No dream that had drifted through their sleepless nights could compare to the reality of the warmth of his hand on the curve of their back, no waking reverie of romance could match up to the almost weightless sensation of their waltz.
Nothing could have prepared Tav for the moment he leaned over, taking the balance of their weight on his arm as he dipped them low, leaving his lips just a hair’s breadth from their own.
Before they could catch their breath, or gather their senses enough to steal the kiss they had long dreamed of, the devil smirked and lifted them back to their feet. Their mind was spinning in the same manner as their body did while the dance continued, each move a push and pull that brought them tantalisingly close only to create distance once more.
The heat of the cambion’s body, the grace of his movements, the danger of being so close to the power and devilish charm he possessed… Tav felt like they were dancing in the heart of a fire, and they had not one care if they were to burn to ash right there and then.
—
Raphael savoured each moment like a delicacy. Watching the breath catch in Tav’s throat, seeing their pulse quicken almost imperceptibly through the exposed part of their neck, noticing how their lips almost wanted to chase him every time he pulled away.
He had often spoken to them of how he preferred clients to be desperate, to be left with no option, no thought beyond turning to him and begging for his aid. This was…not the same, not quite. He did not want them broken and bowed with their knees in the dirt, he wanted…not an equal , but something close. Someone who could challenge him. Someone who would desire everything he was and everything he could be, but one who would not be afraid to chase it.
And thus, Raphael had set the lanceboard pieces upon the table, making each move and daring Tav to take what they wanted. Were he to be the one to show his desire for them openly? That would not do, the balance of power would shift. He had perhaps gone far further than he might have liked in creating this moment, in calling them his favourite client, in revealing his fondness for them more than once… But that was the limit of his grace in showing them he was receptive to an advance. They had to be the one to want him , and he was to be the one to so generously allow them to be close.
“You dance well, Little Mouse.” A simple compliment, earning him a smile and the blush that spread across their cheeks - of course, it helped that his whisper was directed into their ear, lips almost brushing the ever reddening tip.
“I could say the same of you, Raphael.” Ah, there it was. A little more confidence, that edge of bravery returning, driven by the desire he was stoking within them so carefully. He allowed one more soft breath across their ear - a gentle bellows to grow the flames within them - before he pulled away again.
This time, however, Tav was faster.
—
The tension was infuriating. Tav couldn’t tell if Raphael was merely teasing them, or waiting for them to make the first move. Either way, if they didn’t do something about it soon, they were certain it would leave them with nothing but a lifetime of regret when the music reached its final cadence.
The depth of his voice, the heat of the air that carried it, the scent of his perfume so close to them… When the cambion tried to move away this time, their hand found a grip on his horns instead, holding him a few inches from their face as he embraced them in a dancer’s dip in his arms.
“Not this time. Wait.” They had meant it as a request, but desperation turned the words to more of a command.
“Issuing orders? To me ?” Raphael’s eyebrows raised, a slight smile toying at the edge of his lips. “My, my, Little Mouse. We have become so very brave in the face of the cat. Perhaps I should drop you right here upon the floor.”
“You don’t want to do that.” Tav continued, emboldened in the knowledge he could have fully pulled away at any moment…yet he allowed them to hold him here. They even softened their grip to caress his horns, smooth, sharp, dangerous and regal… Everything that they admired in him.
“Oh? And what is it that I want from a mere mortal such as yourself?” His voice was subtly lower now, the spaces between his words saying far more than the sound.
“I don’t know,” Tav admitted, their hand drifting from his natural crown to the side of his cheek, “but I know what
I
want. And I’m tired of waiting for it.”
They threw caution into the depths of the inferno and stole his lips in a kiss, savouring the heat of his touch and the scent of cherry that was almost intoxicating as he softened, yielding - in so much as a devil would ever yield to a mortal - and returning their affection with his own.
The cat might have set the trap, but as long as they still got the reward they had yearned for, the mouse did not care that the cambion’s claws were firmly embedded in their soul. They had danced to his tune, waltzed right onto the board of his game willing to sacrifice every piece they had if he were to ask.
—
Devil.
The name that most would give the man with a crown of horns, eyes like living fire, and a burning desire to rule all the hells. And what would that make Tav, now? Willing to take his hand, to follow him into the depths of Avernus and beyond just to be at his side…
Ally.
No, more than that. This was no brokered deal of warring nations, nor a mere friendship between neighbours. Their goals had aligned, in such a way as they might. Partners, perhaps… Putting a name to the lack of space between their lips felt like a fool’s errand.
Saviour.
The title he gave himself when they first met had proven true, in its own way. Appearing when he wished to, giving them not what they wanted but only what they needed to prove themselves. To be worthy of him.
“Raphael.”
His name tasted all the sweeter whispered into his kiss, the last seal of a fate they would choose a thousand times without a second thought as he swept them away into the night.