Chapter Text
You don't really understand why "I love you" is such a big deal with FWBs.
You don't just say it during sex. Is it supposed to be different during sex?
You love your friend, so when Rafayel moans out, "Fuck, I love you," it feels natural to say "I love you" back.
Not to sound oblivious- you know why people have an issue with the big I Love You during sex. You understand the concept of FWBs being friends who have sex. The friendship is for the benefit of sex. FWBs means you don't cross the platonic line. "I love you" in other contexts walking the line, but had plausible deniability. "I love you" during sex does not have platonic connotations. It means you've fallen into emotional vulnerability with someone who doesn't feel the same.
So, maybe that logic doesn't apply to you?
Rafayel hadn't just been "a friend." He was a good friend, a close friend, as previously stated you loved him. He always said it back. The sex had more to do with enjoying the act itself than anything else.
If he viewed the friendship differently after hearing your supposed big I Love You, he didn't show it. No tears, no exclamation of devotion (outside of the usual), no poetic speech or breakdown. Waking up the next morning you do wonder if you misunderstood his meaning, if he means "I love you" in a way you're not sure you feel. He acts the same that morning, that day, and that night. When you ask about it, worried you're going to hurt his feelings misunderstanding, he shakes you off.
"Duh, I know what you meant. Of course I love you as a friend." Evasive as always. "I mean I love you as my best friend in the world, obviously. You don't see me having sex with Thomas, do you?"
His words reassure you, and he follows up with action, putting your anxiety at bay. You know people think you're delusional. Yet nothing changes, outside of him being more clingy perhaps, but he'd always been physical with you. You're happy to cling back.
When you bring him as a plus one to a company party, you introduce him as your friend without question. Of course he's your friend, what else would he be? Your smile wavers a bit when your coworkers laugh in your face.
"We know he's your boyfriend, no need to hide it."
The pang of worry briefly hits you. Did you misread the situation? Glancing over, you see Rafayel's friendly expression fading.
"We are friends," He insists, hand tightening in yours. "Haven't you ever seen good friends before?"
One of them snickers. The other one rolls their eyes. Another straight up turns away.
"Keep telling yourselves that."
"Best friends don't act like that."
"I give it a month and you'll either get together or have a falling out."
It's no shock when you retire early, Rafayel driving you both home. His hands are tight on the steering wheel.
"Insulting. Questioning our friendship like that," He complains. "I'm not some jerk waiting around for things to change, and neither are you."
You watch the speedometer. Look at the road. "You're speeding. Our house is on the right."
"Fuck, sorry." He lightens up on the accelerator in time to made the smooth turn into the driveway.
You shuffle silently to the door before realizing you'd gotten out without your bag, which holds your keys. Rafayel pops up by your side, clicking the lock button and opening the door for you.
Stepping in, you turn the light on.
Without looking you ask, "It really doesn't bother you?"
Hanging up his coat, he responds. "Yeah it bothers me. It upsets you."
You place your own coat on the rack and walk to the kitchen sink. Turning the water on, you was your hands. The house is dark, save for the one overhead lightbulb that needs to be changed.
"Cutie, you should complain about what they said."
"We weren't on company time."
"That's bullshit and they know it. You're at a company party. That means the whole not professional but professional act."
Drying your hands you shrug. "That kind of talk is what happens when people are playing not professional but professional."
He sighs. "I hate corporate."
You nod in agreement. You also hate corporate.
"Well fuck HR then. It's still inappropriate as fuck for them to be making comments like that, it's gross." He always swears more when he's mad.
You don't disagree. "They can't take it back, even if I did report it." The words I shouldn't have said that don't erase the judgment that came out.
"Fucking corporate speak, like we don't know what they mean."
The undertone of misogyny is subtext, but the expectation of romance is text. People can't prove subtext, and they don't find issue with the text.
There is nothing to report, even as it stirs the bile in your stomach.
Everyone else had brought someone they would consider a romantic partner to the party. You had been the sore thumb sticking out, claiming the man hanging off your arm was simply a friend.
The whispers had followed you both for years.
"Friends don't hug like that." "Is she blind, he's totally in love with her?" "She's soooo into him but won't admit it." "They're so annoying like we know you're fucking." "Who do they think they're fooling?"
To your face, people had been far too comfortable stepping into your friendship.
"He looks at you like he lovesss you, aren't you going to reciprocate?" "Girl, stop being so scared, you deserve this!" "Nothing wrong with taking the next step if you want it- he does."
Rafayel had used the word insulting. You find the words quite fitting.
Was it that hard to believe out of anyone you'd want to live with a friend? Buying a house together might be unconventional, but he had the money for it. You had the friendship for it.
You don't miss how Rafayel's jaw would tighten at any implication he was only using you for sex, was just waiting for you to fall into his arms and confess, only cared about getting one thing from you.
Time had only fed the rumors. "Why do they bother lying about their relationship?" It wasn't worth fighting them anymore. It was too exhausting.
In your shared house, the property served as a barrier from their assumptions.
Unfortunately, the walls couldn't always protect from all the comments.
You squeak when Rafayel scoops you into his arms, breaking your troubled expression, and he carries you to the bedroom.
There's plenty of time to escape, but you'll happily stay in his arms until he plops you into the bed.
"Well that was a horrible holiday party!" He chirps. "They're smart to not hold it on the actual day. That was depressing as fuck. Did you see their cookies, cutie? The worst design I've ever seen."
You giggle. "Their attempt a snowman was … unique."
"Was that what it was? I was too distracted by the attempt at a candy cane. How do you mess up a candy cane!" He expressed dramatically while undoing his tie. You stand up pull your dress over your head.
As much as you want a bath, you're too tired to bother. Heading into the bathroom, you flip the shower to hot water to heat it up faster. Now without pants, Rafayel follows behind you.
You really don't want to do anything besides use mouthwash, splash your face with water, and crash but your friend would point out how much you'll regret in the morning.
The look he gave you when you saw the made bed already said it for you. You can hear him lecturing you.
"You're gonna be all 'noooo Raf we got makeup on the clean sheets' and 'why am I breaking out again' and 'I need to scrape my skin off this feels disgusting'!"
The shower is really, really nice.
You sigh under the spray of hot water, noticing he'd already tested the temperature and shifted the temperature to a more bearable level of heat.
You groan when Rafayel's fingers sink into your hair, lathered with shampoo.
"Close your eyes."
You close them, not wanting to get soap in your eyes. He hums perfectly in tune to keep track of the time before tapping your shoulder to let you know you're good to rinse it out now. You'll have to go back in with soap, but the water rinses off some of your makeup as well. You dry your eyes with a towel he'd thrown over the top of the shower door (something you always forgot to do, leaving you yell "RAF TOWEL PLEASE?!" when showering alone.)
In the meantime, Rafayel shampoos his own hair and swaps with you while you apply conditioner.
After he does the same, you speak.
"Thanks, Raf."
"For what?"
"For cheering me up."
"That's what friends do, cutie. You don't have to thank me."
You hug him, scattered soap bubbles popping between you.
"Just accept the compliment."
You're 'not supposed to' sleep with wet hair, but Rafayel is too overstimulated to handle the noise of the hairdryer and honestly you could care less.
You both throw down towels over the pillows and around your necks to pick up any water that didn't get squeezed out and settle into the sheets.
All you want to do now is curl up against your friend and sleep, so you do.
Rafayel snuggles you close, burying his face into your neck.
"I love you."
"Love you, too."