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They say he just walked straight into traffic.
Simon’s head hurts when he wakes up. It feels like he’s been dragged through hell and slapped down on a hospital bed, and the wires and needles sticking out of his arm aren’t doing much to calm him either.
He tries to remember what happened, tries to recall the exact situation. But his mind just… completely blanks. He doesn’t seem to remember anything from the last couple of days, if not weeks. The last thing he remembers is walking home from college after a final, and that was more than a month ago. Other than that – nothing.
To say he’s freaking out would be an understatement.
His mom is there, holding his hand and trying to make him remember, her voice edging on tears but her eyes remaining dry. After all, she’s strong and Simon survived. She won’t cry about his accident.
A doctor came by too, to explain what had happened. They blame his amnesia on the accident and estimate that he’ll regain his memory in the next couple of days. Simon isn’t so sure.
It’s somewhere around noon, a few hours after he woke up, when a boy walks in. His hair is dark and sticking up weirdly like he just shoved his hand through it, his jacket is half hanging off his shoulder and the laces of one of his boots are untied. He looks bewildered and terrified.
“Simon!” He exclaims once his eyes settle on Simon’s frame.
Simon startles, not having expected the boy to call out to him. He tries to sit up and makes a face when the needles tug at his arm.
“Oh my god, are you okay? I heard what happened. Everything alright?” He questions, reaching out to cup Simon’s cheeks and turn his head sideways to examine him.
Simon swats at his hands and pulls back, frowning at him.
“Sorry, but who are you?”
The boy frowns. Simon notices how symmetrical his face is, even when his eyebrows are knitted together.
“Si, it’s me. Raphael?”
“Raphael? Sorry, but I’ve never seen you in my life.”
“Are you kidding? This isn’t funny, Simon.”
“I know it isn’t! Look, dude. I swear I don’t remember you. I’m sorry.”
Raphael opens his mouth to say something, but Simon’s mother chooses this moment to step in.
“Raphael, Simon doesn’t – he doesn’t remember anything. The doctors say the accident caused amnesia.”
Raphael looks from Simon to his mother and back, his face scrunching up in worry. He’s cute like that. Simon regrets not knowing him.
“Did they say when he’ll regain his memory?”
“In a few days, maybe some weeks. They say he’ll get it back faster when he’s in familiar surroundings.”
Raphael nods, then sits down on the side of Simon’s bed. He reaches out to take his hand but seems to change his mind last minute, letting it drop into his lap instead.
“So I guess I should – tell you who I am to you?” Raphael wonders, gazing up to Simon through his lashes. He almost looks shy.
“That would be nice,” Simon nods.
“Well – uh. We kinda have this – thing going on.”
“A thing?” Simon echoes. Raphael nods.
“Yeah, a thing. I guess you could say we were on the verge of – dating?”
“Dating? Me? With you?” Simon barely believes it. Raphael is – well, for starters, he’s way out of his league. Way too handsome to even be interested in someone like Simon, let alone come to visit him in the hospital and be all caring and worried.
Raphael chuckles. Simon realizes he likes the sound of it and feels his lips pull up in a similar smile.
“Hard to believe, isn’t it? I’m obviously too good for you.”
“Hey, aren’t you supposed to be nice to me? After all, I am lying in a hospital with no memory whatsoever.”
“Oh yeah, right. Do you want me to go buy you a ‘get better soon’ teddy bear?”
“That depends. Do you think they sell ‘hope you regain your memory soon’ dolphins?”
“I don’t know. Want me to go check?”
Raphael is already making a move to stand, but despite himself Simon stops him before he can get up.
“No, it’s fine. I’d like you to stay. Tell me a bit about yourself.”
Raphael sits back down on the bed with a smile.
“Okay. Funnily enough, we met because of the same reason you’re lying here now. You really seem to have something with walking into traffic.”
***
Simon is discharged three days later and ordered to take it easy the next few days. His mother is relieved he can go home and hopes her homemade meals and the sight of his own room will help him regain his memories, but he isn’t so sure. He feels like everything is slipping between his fingers like sand, like he can’t hold on to it even if he tried.
They throw a surprise party for him when he gets home, which they all probably did with the best intentions but only scares Simon more. He knows who Clary is (how could he forget her, his oldest childhood friend?) but other people are unknown to him. He doesn’t recognize the blond guy or the boy with an easy smile and blue-dyed tips by his side, nor does he recognize the two attractive people that introduce themselves as the Lightwood siblings. He does, however, know who Maureen is. And Raphael of course.
Clary and Maureen crowd him the entire night, gushing about childhood memories and trips to the beach each summer and college. Simon knows what they’re talking about, which means he didn’t lose his long term memory. So they try to work back from that, even pulling out Maureen’s phone to write down notes and a timeline.
“Okay, so as I see it, you seem to be remembering everything up until a month ago,” Maureen says, looking down at her phone to summarize.
Simon nods and points at the timeline they scribbled down onto a piece of paper.
“Yeah, right after my Econ final. I remember walking home because I totally nailed it – even treated myself with some coffee and a cronut. And then just – nothing.”
Raphael, who’d been quietly standing by their group, chimes in: “That’s the day I met you. You were walking through traffic when I called out to you and then you just fainted, which was really weird. You seemed… off when you came to.”
Simon shrugs, having no recollection of that day or any after that before his accident.
“Then what?” He wonders.
“Well, you dropped by the record store I work at the next day. You still seemed kind of off and slow to react, but you weren’t looking like you just stumbled into a different dimension like you had the day before.” Then he shrugs. “We kept seeing each other after that. I came to your gigs and you would come annoy me at work if you weren’t working yourself.”
“Oh great. I had a job? Let me guess. Barista.”
“Bingo,” Raphael smiles, “you made the best caramel macchiato in town.”
And somehow the way he says it feels too intimate to Simon. Maybe it’s because of the look in his eyes – so loving and melancholic it feels like he’s choking - or maybe it’s the way Raphael reaches out to brush his fingers over the back of Simon’s hand before changing his mind at the last minute, but suddenly Simon can’t stand to be around him anymore. It’s too painful to look at him and hear about them together and not remember any of it. It’s not fair, neither to him or to Raphael.
So he turns around on his heels and runs.
***
Simon may not remember everything, but he does remember joints. So when he escapes into his huge back yard with the idea of sitting on the old swings his dad built for him and his sister when they were little but bumps into the boy with the blue tips (Meliorn, he believes) instead, he’s more than happy to take the joint offered to him.
They sit on the swings together in silence for a while, the full moon illuminating their features. Meliorn is lazily swinging his legs a little bit as he takes a drag of the joint and then hands it to Simon.
“So you really don’t remember any of it?” He asks.
Simon takes a drag and shakes his head. He exhales the smoke in little ‘o’ shapes.
“Can’t remember it for the life of me.”
“So you don’t remember the threesome you had with me and Jace?”
Simon almost chokes on the smoke he’d been exhaling.
“What?!” He coughs. Meliorn laughs and winks at him.
“I’m just kidding. You and Raphael were kind of exclusive even if you weren’t technically dating.”
Simon’s stomach cramps together painfully at the mention of Raphael. He feels like he misses him, which would be ridiculous. How could he miss a guy he doesn’t even know?
“Anyway,” Meliorn continues, inhaling some smoke, “I’m really sorry you lost your memories. I can’t imagine what I’d do if I woke up and wouldn’t have any recollection of Jace.”
“Yeah,” Simon says quietly. His feet are digging into the dirt, all the grass that once grew there having been scraped away by his and his sister’s feet years ago.
Meliorn finishes his joint and then stands, stretching his arms before saying: “Well, I’m gonna try and find Jonathan and go home.” He reaches out to slap Simon on the shoulder, “I’m sure your memory will resurface soon, buddy. Don’t worry too much about it.”
“Thanks,” Simon mumbles. Meliorn nods once more and then he’s gone.
Simon sits there alone for a while, replaying that day a month ago over and over in his head. He remembers the exam – even remembers some of the questions asked – and he remembers buying some coffee and the taste of the cronut. But then, no matter how hard he concentrates, just blankness after that.
“You’re doing your thinking face,” someone suddenly says. Simon’s eyes, which had been closed in concentration, fly open and take in Raphael’s form standing in front of him.
“I have a thinking face?” Simon asks. Raphael nods as he walks to the swing and sits down on it.
“Yeah. You scrunch up your nose and frown and sometimes you even stick out your tongue. It’s adorable.”
Simon feels his cheeks flush and scratches his neck uncomfortably.
“Sorry,” Raphael quickly apologizes.
“That’s inappropriate to say. I keep forgetting you don’t know me and how uncomfortable this must make you feel.”
“What do you mean?”
“You know – us. You know nothing about me, yet I still act like we’re on the verge of dating like we were before your accident.”
“Yeah,” Simon breathes, “it is a bit… overwhelming.”
Raphael nods.
“Okay, what if we just start over?”
“Start over?”
“Yeah, like this.” Raphael holds out his hand for Simon to shake.
“Hi, I’m Raphael Santiago. What’s your name?”
“Simon,” Simon says as he shakes his hand, suddenly feeling shy.
Raphael smiles a soft, intimate smile, and suddenly Simon feels himself longing to curl up in the corners of his mouth forever.
“Well, Simon. It’s very nice to meet you. Come here often?”
***
Raphael takes him to the movies as their first date. He’s a real gentleman; he pays for the tickets and snacks, guides Simon to their seats and keeps the conversation going till the movie starts.
“Tell me,” Simon says before flicking a piece of popcorn in the air and catching it in his mouth, “did we go on dates like this before the accident?”
Even in the dark movie theatre, he can see Raphael is blushing.
“No, not really. We didn’t go on dates – mostly we just hung out at bars and drank beers.”
“So we were more like bros than…” Simon hesitates a heartbeat before continuing, “lovers?”
Raphael raises an eyebrow. Somehow Simon feels like he does that a lot.
“Do you kiss all your bros like you kissed me that last night?”
Now it’s Simon’s turn to turn red in the face.
“I – uh, I don’t… I don’t remember how I kissed you,” he stutters.
Raphael licks his lips and briefly glances at Simon’s mouth, so quickly Simon would’ve missed it if he blinked.
“I’ll show you when you’re ready, okay?”
“Okay,” Simon exhales relieved as he sinks back into his seat. Raphael is obviously going to respect his boundaries, which comforts him a lot.
The movie Raphael chose for them goes by in a blur. It’s a brainless action movie you don’t really have to pay attention to, and normally Simon would like a movie like this, but now he wishes they’d gone to some boring, intellectual film with subtitles so he could pay attention to anything other than Raphael sitting next to him.
Their arms almost brush together when they both lean on the armrest, and Simon can feel the heat radiating off Raphael’s skin seeping into his own clothes. When they both reach for the popcorn at the same time and accidentally touch hands, Simon jerks back like he’d just touched fire. And in a way, he had; touching Raphael sends sparks of electricity through his body he can’t explain.
It’s almost like his body misses him and his brain just hasn’t caught up yet.
Raphael walks him home after the movie and stands a bit awkwardly on his porch. Simon doesn’t know what to do – shake his hand, wave goodbye, give him a kiss? But before he can do any of those things, Raphael reaches out to take his hand, squeezes it lightly and then takes a step back.
“Call me?” He asks.
Simon nods.
“I will.”
Raphael smiles again – that smile that makes Simon’s body ache for him – and then turns around and walks away.
Simon watches him go until he disappears into the night and then goes inside.
***
“I brought you coffee!” Simon exclaims several days later as he plops a paper bag down onto the counter.
Raphael looks up from the store computer and smiles gratefully.
“Caramel macchiato?”
“Made with love,” Simon grins. Raphael hums approvingly as he takes the cup out of the bag and takes a sip.
“Ahh,” he breathes, eyes closed, “perfect.”
“Of course it is. I made it.”
Raphael opens his eyes to roll them at Simon and puts the cup down.
“So what brings you here? Are you gonna buy some records?”
Simon shrugs.
“Maybe, but I’m mostly here to annoy you. That’s what I used to do, right?”
“Out of all the things you remember,” Raphael mutters, and Simon jumps to sit on the counter himself.
“Hey, just trying different things to regain my memory. So did we just sit here and talk?”
“Well, you usually were the one talking – I think rambling is a better word for it, actually.”
“About what?”
“About everything. About movies and class and Clary and comic books. Everything that crossed your mind.”
Simon blushes and looks down. That does sound a lot like him.
“Well,” he says, fidgeting with his fingers, “I think it’s time for you to talk. Tell me about yourself.”
And so Raphael does, without hesitation. He talks about his mother and three younger brothers, about his grandma he goes to visit in Mexico every summer. He tells him about growing up in a small town before moving to New York, where children stayed out till midnight because nothing ever happened there. He tells stories about going night swimming and trying to catch fish with his bare hands, and he tells about moving to New York and how hard it had been for him to leave Mexico.
His face hardens when he talks about school, about the bullying and the beating up. About the racists. Simon relates – he used to be bullied because of his brown skin too. So he reaches out and takes Raphael’s hand as he tells the story, and Raphael only briefly falters to look at their intertwined fingers before continuing.
He gets shy when he talks about high school and mentions his first boyfriend, and Simon feels an inexplicable sense of jealousy spark in his stomach. He didn’t know Raphael in high school – heck, he barely even knows him now – and yet he feels irrationally jealous when he mentions being in love with another boy.
Raphael says he tried college for one year but dropped out as soon as he could. It just wasn’t for him. He’s working at the record store to save money and is probably gonna start a small shop with Magnus as soon as he can.
They talk the entire day, with Raphael occasionally interrupting his stories to help a customer. They go out for lunch on his break and return to the store with some snacks and new stories to tell. Simon mostly asks stuff and barely tells things himself, figuring that Raphael has probably heard all his stories already.
And then suddenly it’s time to close the shop and Simon gets a text from Clary with a lot of excessive emojis asking if he’s ready for tonight.
Simon frowns at his phone as Raphael closes up the shop and then suddenly remembers they’re going out tonight as a sort of way for Simon to meet his friends. He doesn’t remember the friend group he became a part of last month, and Clary thought it would be a good idea to go clubbing together to get to know each other.
“Hey, Raph?” Simon asks when Raphael locks the door.
“Do you wanna go out tonight?”
Raphael quirks an eyebrow.
“Like a date?”
Simon nudges him in the ribs.
“No, not like a date. The whole group is going out but I don’t know most of them so it would be nice to have you there with me.”
“But you don’t know me either.”
“Listen, buddy. We just spent the entire day talking about your life. I think I have a solid idea of who you are.”
Raphael laughs and moves forward to press a kiss to Simon’s cheek.
“Okay,” he says when he’s fallen back onto his heels, “see you tonight.”
Simon stands frozen on the spot even long after Raphael has walked away, a hand pressed to the cheek he just kissed and his skin feeling impossibly warm.
***
Simon is nervous as he’s waiting in line to enter the club that night. Most of his ‘friends’ are already here and chatting about the most random subjects, but Raphael is still nowhere in sight.
It’s silly, he knows that, but he feels like that innocent kiss on the cheek suddenly redefined their entire relationship. Is Raphael going to kiss him on the cheek again? Should he kiss Raphael on the cheek? What if Raphael moves to kiss him on the cheek but Simon turns his head and he ends up kissing him on the lips instead? And would Simon really mind that?
But all his worries fade away as soon as he sees Raphael approaching and are replaced with an even scarier feeling – his heart racing in his throat, his knees going weak and his palms getting sweaty.
Raphael came together with Magnus, and they seem to be in the middle of a heated discussion judging from the wide arm gestures Magnus is making and the frown Raphael is wearing. That’s not the most impressive thing he’s wearing though – not by a long shot.
Simon had never really understood the leather pants trend. He thought it couldn’t possibly be comfortable to squeeze yourself into and he also believed that nobody could have the ability to look good in them. But that was obviously before he encountered Raphael Santiago.
He’s wearing a simple black shirt with his leather pants, sleeves rolled up to show off his biceps (which are huge, Simon might add). When they come closer, Simon also notices the faintest line of eyeliner on Raphael’s lower eyelid. His hair is slicked back with hair gel, causing him to look like a greaser boy from the 50s.
“ – cats are better than dogs,” Magnus concludes when they’ve reached the group. Raphael makes a face at him and shoves him into Alec’s direction before turning to face Simon.
“That dick always has to have the last word,” he complains, moving to stand in line next to Simon. Simon is still too awestruck by Raphael’s general appearance to form a coherent reply, so the other boy frowns at him and waves a hand in front of his face.
“Hello? Simon! You’re zoning out again.”
Simon shakes his head to snap out of his thoughts and offers Raphael an apologetic smile.
“Sorry, I just – you just – you look really good,” he stutters sheepishly.
Raphael blushes and looks down, a tiny smile playing on his lips.
“Yeah? I don’t know. Magnus kinda forced me to wear eyeliner and slick back my hair.”
“I love it,” Simon blurts before he can stop it, “I love your hair like this. Gives you a very 50s look. I’m here for it.”
Raphael’s smile turns wider.
“Thank you. I’ll remember that.”
Simon nods and then continues to ramble about how he’s curious to see this new club and that he isn’t really a club-goer and that he hopes the music is alright even though he probably won’t dance. Honestly, he knows he’s rambling, but he doesn’t seem to be able to stop. He’s just feeling double as nervous as before all of the sudden. And the way Raphael is looking at him – with big eyes and an amused smile – really isn’t making things any better.
The others make a straight line to the bar to order shots for everyone when they finally enter the club. Simon is glad to get some alcohol into his system, hoping it will ease his nerves a bit.
Four shots later and his nerves are a bit more than just eased. They are completely gone, and so are all his self-restricted rules about not dancing.
He jumps to his feet and walks onto the dancefloor, confidently making dance moves he thinks are pretty iconic. They truly must be pretty awesome, as a girl immediately spots him and walks over to him. She starts dancing up to him without all but introducing herself, and Simon really isn’t complaining.
He dances with her for a while, grinding their hips together and allowing her to press his lips against her throat, but then his eyes move over the crowd and land on Raphael.
Simon immediately sobers up when he sees the expression on his face, visible even in the dim light and from a distance. Raphael is clutching his drink like a lifeline, so hard his knuckles are white and Simon thinks he’s gonna break the glass. He looks pale and his lips are pressed into a thin line, eyes following every movement between Simon and the girl.
Simon frees himself from her grip and walks back to Raphael, who tries to hide the hurt on his face but is failing miserably.
“Hey,” Simon says, plopping down next to him, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.”
Raphael shakes his head.
“No, Simon. It’s fine. You shouldn’t feel bad for having fun because of me. You don’t even know me. I can’t expect you to take my feelings for you into consideration every time you see someone you like.”
“Like? I don’t like her, Raph. I mean, she’s hot I guess. But you’re still hotter. And I would much rather dance with you.”
Raphael seems to gain some color in his face and a small smile breaks through his frown.
“Are you sure? I saw you dancing. I’m not sure if I could keep up.”
Simon rolls his eyes and slaps him on the shoulder before reaching out a hand to him. Raphael takes it and lets Simon guide him to the dancefloor, and even there they keep holding hands.
Simon stands a bit awkwardly at first, not really knowing what to do. But then Raphael presses a hand to the small of his back to press him closer, puts the hand Simon had been holding on his hip and starts slowly dancing to the rhythm of the song with him. Simon looks between their bodies and how little space there is left for ‘friendship’ and ‘no feelings’, their fronts touching from knees to chest, and then he looks up into Raphael’s eyes, dark and mysterious as ever.
“Are you going to show me how I kissed you that one night already?” He asks, voice shaking only slightly.
Raphael shakes his head as he moves their hips together. Simon’s skin is burning where Raphael is touching him.
“I don’t think you’re ready yet.”
“Damn, was it that good?”
Raphael chuckles.
“That too. But I don’t think you’re ready to kiss me in general yet. I think you want to be ready. I think you think you owe me that. But you don’t, and I will wait for as long as you want me to. And if you end up not wanting to kiss me at all, that’ll be fine too. I won’t force you into anything you’re not comfortable with because we used to be an almost-thing, Simon.”
Raphael’s words make him feel warm not only on the outside, but on the inside too. Like someone lit a nice bonfire in the pit of his stomach, its warmth spreading to the tips of his fingers. And he realizes that he truly, really wants to kiss him. Not because he’s expected to, not because they used to be an almost-thing, but just because Raphael is Raphael and that makes him incredible.
So Simon moves his hands to Raphael’s neck and gives him a soft kiss on his cheek.
“That’s a start,” he says.
Raphael presses his own soft lips to Simon’s cheek in the shape of a smile.
“That’s a start,” he agrees.
***
Some weeks pass and Simon still doesn’t regain his memory, but he’s starting to be okay with that. The friend group he built in the month taken from his memory has found its way back into his heart and he feels safe with them, even though he can’t remember the first month they spent together.
And of course Raphael makes things better too.
They go on more dates – mostly silly things like going to the fair to hold hands on the Ferris Wheel or going rollerblading or just hanging out in Raphael’s apartment to make commentary on a movie they both hate.
And Raphael never makes him feel bad about not remembering stuff. Sure, he reminds Simon of certain things, like how he would hum the same song every time he made him a caramel macchiato, or how he’d written a song Raphael highly suspects was about him, but he never begs him to remember. He never asks ‘can you really not remember this, Simon? Try to remember – just try!’ like his mother or sister do. He just tells him about these things he used to do and never expects anything from Simon in return.
They’ve gone on a handful of dates, all semi-platonic because neither of them bring up the feelings they have for each other much. Simon knows Raphael has feelings for him; he never really tried to hide that. And at first Simon was scared that he would never feel the same way. Because his body seemed to be missing Raphael, but his mind didn’t even know the guy. So Simon never mentioned the possibility of feelings and not having them to Raphael in order not to hurt his feelings, and now that he has actually developed feelings for him he’s too scared to bring them up because he thinks it might screw up the fragile more-than-friendship they currently have going on.
But after Raphael holds his hand all throughout their seventh date and kisses him on the cheek before walking home, Simon’s longing for him wins from his initial fear and he decides that it’s time to do something about this situation.
So he organizes the next date they’re going on, and he makes sure it’s the best date ever.
So far they’ve gone to stuff mostly Simon enjoys. He thinks Raphael planned those dates to make him feel safe, to let him know that Raphael just wants him to be comfortable around him. They never do something Raphael thoroughly enjoys, and that’s why Simon plans their next date to an art exhibition.
Raphael mentioned loving art a while back. Simon himself doesn’t particularly care for museums, but the look on Raphael’s face when he inspects a Monet painting is totally worth it.
The museum isn’t that crowded today, which allows them to stroll through the exhibition at their own pace. Raphael is holding Simon’s hand, their fingers intertwined, and Simon mostly enjoys the weight of his hand and the sparkles in his eyes as Raphael admires the paintings around them.
“Oh, man. I love Monet,” he sighs when they reach the end of the exhibition. Simon smiles and squeezes his hand.
“So was this a good date?”
“It was the best date,” Raphael grins, and then he guides him to the exit.
Raphael walks him home like he does after every date they have. He sometimes jokes he does it to make sure Simon doesn’t run into traffic again, but Simon knows Raphael is just an old fashioned gentleman when it comes to stuff like that. He appreciates it though. Makes him feel like Raphael genuinely cares about his wellbeing.
When they’re standing outside Simon’s house, Raphael moves forward to place a kiss on Simon’s cheek like he does every time. This time however, Simon turns his head right before Raphael can kiss him goodnight and catches his lips with his own instead.
Raphael jerks back in surprise, but Simon’s hands are already cupping the back of his head to reel him back in. He’s gentle when he kisses him, careful to make sure Raphael knows he truly wants this. Raphael sighs into the kiss when Simon pries open his lips and grabs into the fabric of his shirt, pressing their chests together until Simon can feel two hearts beating instead of one.
“Was that anything like how I kissed you?” Simon asks breathlessly when he finally pulls back for air. Raphael looks lost for words, but then he shakes his head and says: “No, it was more like this,” and kisses him again.
This kiss is slower, more exploring. There’s more tongue and whimpering and holding each other, and Simon can imagine why Raphael thought he wasn’t ready for this before. His knees buckle and his legs go weak but thankfully Raphael is there to support him. He’ll always be there to support him.
Raphael keeps him close even after they break the kiss, resting his forehead against Simon’s. Simon’s eyes are open, but Raphael’s are still shut. As if he wants to stay in the moment for as long as possible.
“I get why you wanted to wait to kiss me like that,” Simon eventually says, his soft voice still sounding too loud in the quiet night air. Raphael smiles and reaches up to cup Simon’s cheek.
"I’m glad I did. It was even better than our first kiss.”
“As I don’t remember our first kiss, I wholeheartedly agree,” Simon whispers. Raphael brushes their noses together and says: “I’m sorry you didn’t regain your memories. I wish I could give them back somehow.”
“Hey,” Simon says, turning his head in his hand to press a kiss to Raphael’s palm, “you gave me this. And I will remember this – us. I promise. I promise I won’t forget.”
Raphael takes a step back and rolls his eyes at him, barely succeeding in keeping the fondness off his face.
“You’re such a sap,” he complains.
Simon gives him a shove but then immediately grabs him by the shirt to kiss him again. Raphael eases into the kiss a lot faster now, tilting his head to deepen it and snaking his arms around Simon’s waist.
When Raphael licks into his mouth and makes a sound at the back of his throat, Simon thinks he remembers the first time he saw him – a golden boy bathing in light, skin warm as the sun.
And somehow that makes sense. Because Raphael is warm and golden and beautiful, and most importantly he’s Simon’s. And Simon is his.