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Raphael watched the younger boy from across the table. He talked carelessly, easily, not seeming to notice Raphael’s gaze. It suited Raphael, this arrangement. Simon would talk and gesture and get lost in his own world while Raphael would stare and analyse and get lost in Simon’s features.
Simon never seemed to mind that Raphael didn’t participate in the conversation, he would gladly start with a relevant topic and wander off in any direction. As long as he was talking, Raphael was content. Not that he didn’t listen to Simon’s words, he did. He could recall perfectly every sentence that came out of his mouth, every fact he recounted, every fantasy he wove. Raphael probably knew more about Simon and his thoughts on life than anyone else they knew, just from those Thursday afternoons.
……
It had started at the very beginning of the year, when Raphael had entered the café for the first time and, unable to find a seat on its own, had sat down across from a boy with floppy brown hair and glasses. The boy had raised his head, met Raphael’s uninterested gaze with beautiful chocolate eyes and promptly chocked on his strawberry milkshake. The resulting apology and wild scramble to mop up the mess had caused Raphael’s best jacket to be destroyed and his heart to be firmly stolen by a clumsy, adorable, perfect seventeen-year-old.
Raphael had returned the next day, as if a giant magnet had drawn him to the crowded coffee place and he was unable to fight it. Not that he had tried at all. He’d purposely worn his best shirt and second best jacket (his best having been destroyed the afternoon before) and had paused before entering the shop, looking intently at his reflection in the glass window and wondering if the wind had messed up his gelled hair too much on the walk there. Would it be a better idea to continue walking to the public bathroom along the road, using the mirror there to fix it? Eventually deciding that he didn’t want to miss the chance to see the boy, Raphael had run his hands one last time through the loosened strands before pushing the door open and entering the café.
He’d immediately met the eyes of one Magnus Bane, who smirked at him and gave him a cocky wink. Unable to resist his reflex urge to immediately turn around and exit, Raphael had spun to face the door again, only to notice exactly how transparent the glass he had been misusing as a mirror was. His entire face had turned red, and Magnus had called his name, grinned at his embarrassment and proceeded to tell him that ‘the cutie he met yesterday only comes in on Thursdays, but while he was here he should sit and have a coffee.’
The shop was, mercifully, far less crowded than it had been the day before, and Magnus had sat Raphael down on one of the counter stools and proceeded to brief him on all things Simon. Including how yes, Raphael had been that obvious, but that’s okay, because for all his fantastic qualities, Simon was perhaps the most oblivious person Magnus had ever blessed with his company. And yes, that meant that Raphael should feel blessed, because Magnus wouldn’t do this for just everyone, you understand? He had simply decided out of the kindness of his heart that he would take pity on Raphael’s dilemma. Also, because ‘Sherman deserves a good person, you hear me? So, you treat him good, or you’ll regret it.’
Raphael had left the shop after two hours in a confused daze, the primary question at the front of his mind not ‘how can he possibly live up to expectations and win Simon’s heart?’, but ‘How does Magnus keep his job at a coffee shop without paying attention to his customers in the least?’. Of course, once he had recovered from the hurricane that is Magnus Bane, he had started panicking again. He’d stayed up most of the night making lists of the things Magnus had told him and researching the many topics he’d been informed Simon enjoyed. That weekend Raphael hadn’t left his dorm room once, first caught in a marathon of all seven Star Wars movies (following the advice of his extensive google research and watching the three originals before the prequels) then a marathon of all the theory and easter egg videos he could find on YouTube. Of course, then he had discovered HISHE and spent over two hours marathoning their videos and permanently scarring his roommate with the knowledge that yes, Raphael Santiago was capable of laughter.
By the time Monday had rolled around, Raphael had not slept once, but he was fully confident in his ability to impress Simon with his Star Wars knowledge. The fact that he also now possessed the ability to recite by heart all the Disney parody songs from How It Should Have Ended was not one he was as eager to share.
Monday-Wednesday Raphael spent in eager anticipation of Thursday, an unfamiliar feeling that lasted until his alarm went off Thursday morning, when a sense of impending doom appeared in its place. He didn’t pay any attention during his morning classes, the notes he scribbled constantly having nothing to do with his studies. Instead, he had written and rewritten multiple times cues and speeches and whole conversations as he tried to plan exactly what he would say when he went to the coffee shop that afternoon.
As soon as his last period ended, Raphael was out of the door and practically running towards the café. He made a short detour on the way to pick up his brand-new jacket and shrugged it on just as he walked through the door of the coffee shop. Spotting Simon sitting in the same booth as he had the week before, Raphael took a deep breath and started towards it.
Only to be stopped abruptly by a ringed hand on his collar and a lowered voice hissing in his ear.
Raphael turned around to meet Magnus’ green rimmed eyes and prepared to berate him for manhandling his new jacket, only to find the barista holding up a pair of scissors and descending on the garment.
It was only because Raphael had spent years perfecting his poised demeanour that he did not squeal and jump away in distrust, merely raising a hand and informing Magnus flatly that he either explain himself or take several steps away from him immediately before Raphael ensured that the scissors met his perfectly styled hair. It proved to be an effective threat, Magnus had looked appropriately terrified before he explained that the new jacket still had a rather large and hard to ignore ticket attached to it, and didn’t he think it would be subtler if he actually ordered a drink before completing his death march?
Raphael had glared but begrudgingly agreed, waited impatiently for Magnus to make him a hot chocolate (it was late in the day, he wasn’t about to have caffeine and decaf doesn’t sit right with him, stop judging), glared some more when he noticed the pyramid built of marshmallows on top and then finally walked to the table where Simon was sitting peacefully.
Raphael had closed his eyes, recalled all his carefully planned notes, opened his mouth to speak, and then failed so miserably even a supportive hovering Magnus had groaned and covered his face with his hands.
Luckily for Raphael, Simon had not been offended by his curt demand that Simon allow him to sit across the table. He had simply smiled a smile that threatened to overtake the marshmallows in its level of sweetness, cleared half the table and laughingly informed Raphael that he didn’t have any milkshake left to spill on him. Raphael had sat down carefully, placed his cup complete with precarious pyramid on the table and cleared his throat nervously. He’d racked his brain to say something, anything smooth, but his brain had betrayed him of anything intelligent, choosing instead to say ‘Marshmallow?’ like the idiot he was, offering his cup to Simon. Simon had grinned as he delicately picked two from the top of the pile, and then thanking Raphael as if he had saved his life, not just offered him an unhealthy and most definitely disgusting lump of pure sugar. Raphael had blushed and said ‘you’re welcome’ so quietly he doubted Simon had heard him at all, but it hadn’t mattered as Simon had already noticed his new jacket and was off apologising again. How a simple apology had turned into a history of buttons, Raphael was unsure, but he didn’t say a word to stop it, he’d simply sat there and watched as an enthusiastic Simon spoke. It was truly something to behold, his hands moving wildly and his face changing vividly with each change of tone. Raphael had watched his eyes mostly, fancying that he could read a whole other conversation in their depths.
He hadn’t even realised how much time had passed until he looked up, noticed the darkening streets outside and the quickly emptying shop. Simon had blinked as if coming out of a daze, and once again apologised, this time for rambling on. He insisted that Raphael should have stopped him, but he had simply locked eyes with Simon and informed him in a low voice that he hadn’t minded.
This seemed to shock Simon into silence for a second, which Raphael had taken as awkward and had risen to leave, stopped by Simons hand on his arm. Raphael had frozen, looked down at the fingers splayed on his jacket sleave and stayed like that until Simon had spoken again.
“Wait!” He’d said, sounding somewhat desperate. “I don’t know your name.”
Raphael hadn’t moved his eyes from his arm as he’d answered with a curt “Raphael”, therefore he had missed the way Simon’s lips silently repeated the word after him.
“I’m Simon,” the boy had replied after a beat, and Raphael had looked him in the eyes, said ‘I know.’ And then left, leaving Simon confused and Raphael ecstatic.
Because, surely that counted as a Star Wars reference, right?
……
It had become a regular occurrence, Raphael would appear every Thursday afternoon, he’d order a hot chocolate from a smug Magnus and join Simon at his table. Then Simon would eat the ridiculous pyramid of marshmallows and launch into a one-sided conversation on whatever topic took his fancy. For the first month, he’d regularly paused to inform Raphael that he could tell him to shut up whenever he wanted, but Raphael had always shaken his head and Simon had taken that as a sign to continue. After a few weeks, he’d stopped asking, and Raphael had never grown bored of his incessant talking.
Especially around exams had Simon’s incessant chatter came in handy. He’d only spoken a few sentences to answer Simon’s questions about his studies, but he’d left with a wealth of knowledge that he was definitely not going to forget. After all, it had come from Simon and Raphael could never forget anything Simon said to him.
Once Simon hadn’t been there, and Raphael had sat miserably at their table alone, a pile of uneaten marshmallows beside him, until the shop closed and Magnus had appeared to tell him that Simon had a cold. Raphael had snorted and informed Magnus that it wasn’t much of a surprise considering that the boy was stupid enough to think he could survive in the cold without ever wearing a scarf.
Magnus had smiled proudly, patted him on the head (which was incredibly offensive, Raphael was not a pet) and congratulated him on reacting like a functional human being and not an emotionless vampire. Raphael had responded with a glare that only worsened when Magnus laughed and jokingly told him to go buy a scarf for Simon if he was so concerned. Raphael had not deigned to reply to Magnus, simply ignored his comment and left the store.
The next day, he had gone out and after much careful searching found a hufflepuff scarf, wrapped it and placed it carefully in his backpack. On Saturday, he took it out and put it on the shelf above his desk. On Sunday, his roommate asked about it and in his embarrassment Raphael had placed it under his bed. On Monday, Raphael tore the room apart searching for it. On Tuesday, he had woken up at four am and remembered where it was, fished it out and put it on his desk. On Wednesday, he glanced at the package, decided that the wrapping looked like he was trying too hard and tore off the Hogwarts printed paper. On Thursday, he entered the café, made his way to Simon, dumped the scarf on the table in front of him and told him that he needed to stay warm.
Simon had looked thrilled, Magnus had looked awed and of course Raphael had looked at the ground.
It continued this way for months, Raphael would listen, Simon would talk and Magnus would continually roll his eyes. Raphael fell more and more in love with Simon, Simon remained blissfully clueless and Magnus met a boy named Alec that distracted him from the trainwreck that was Raphael’s love life.
It might have stayed like this for another year if it weren’t for Magnus introducing Raphael to Alec, Alec introducing Raphael to Jace and Jace introducing Raphael to jealousy.
Raphael had been hearing about Jace for weeks before this, Simon having first started rambling on about the brother of Clary’s girlfriend at the beginning of October. He’d told a very much uninterested Raphael how blond Jace’s hair was, how big Jace’s muscles were, how awesome Jace’s parkour skills were. Raphael had put up with it, because he’d heard the same about Izzy before she’d started dating Clary, about Victor before he turned into ‘the biggest colossal dick you could imagine’ and even Clary for a short time at the beginning of the year. Jace seemed to be another meaningless crush that Raphael would have to endure.
Then Raphael met the perfect specimen that was Jace Lightwood and he knew that even if he did have a chance at all with Simon, he could never compete against Jace. That Thursday Raphael had spoken a record amount of words to Simon and urged him to pursue Jace. For once Simon had been silent, listening to Raphael with a sad look on his face before he nodded just once and left the café earlier than he had all year. Raphael had been left there alone, a solid lump in his throat and a rapidly breaking heart.
……
The next Thursday Raphael contemplated not showing up for the first time since he met Simon, but eventually he’d dragged himself to the coffee shop, with uncombed hair and wearing a worn t-shirt with no jacket in sight. He’d ordered a black coffee and ignored Magnus’ concerned gaze as he walked slowly towards Simon’s table. Simon had greeted him with an unexpected bright smile that only drooped a little when he took in Raphael’s state of dress. It dimmed even further when he noticed the lack of marshmallows and disappeared completely when Raphael greeted him with ‘How did things go with Jace?’, the words flung across the table through an angry mass of clenched teeth.
Simon had shrugged self-deprecatingly and smiled slightly. “As expected.” He said lowly. “I asked him out, he laughed in my face and told me I didn’t stand a chance.”
Raphael frowned from across the table. “Idiot.” He muttered.
Simon laughed, a bitter and twisted sound that sent a bolt of something disgusting and dark through Raphael. His head shot up and he met Simon’s broken gaze just as he replied.
“Yeah I was.” He said quietly.
Raphael’s eyes widened impossibly wide and his hand move of its own accord to grip Simon’s as he vehemently spoke. “NO!” It was almost a shout, it definitely attracted the attention of several customers and Magnus, who immediately stopped serving a young man in favour of coming closer to Simon’s table. Raphael didn’t notice, so intent on making his point that he didn’t even pause before continuing. “No, he’s the idiot, just like Clary and Izzy and Victor and anyone else who can’t tell how lucky they would be to date you. You’re amazing, you brighten up everyone’s day just by smiling and you are so unselfish even when you really should be, and you are so smart and caring and anyone, anyone would be the most fortunate person in the world to date you.”
Raphael punctuated the end of his tirade by slamming his coffee mug on the table and glaring furiously at the air. He abruptly got to his feet, announced that he was going to find Jace and ran straight into an open-mouthed Magnus. Raphael huffed angrily at the hindrance and shoved him out of the way, rushing out of the shop.
He made it halfway to the door before Simon wrapped his arms around his waist, spun him around to face him and didn’t hesitate once before kissing him full on the lips. A stunned Raphael at first didn’t respond to the insistent pressure against his lips, only vaguely registering what had happed when Simon started to pull away. Of course, as Raphael came out of his daze he realised that pulling away was simply unacceptable, so he looped his arms around Simon’s neck and used the vantage point to guide the boy’s lips back to his. Simon’s hands tightened where they held Raphael by the hips and not even Magnus’ wolf whistle could break the bubble around Raphael that was complete and utter Simon.
Simon’s warmth against his body, Simon’s arms holding him, Simon’s taste in his mouth. It was all so perfect, so unexpected and so overwhelming that Raphael’s brain shut off completely. When they finally drew away from each other Raphael opened his mouth to say something smooth…
“Star Wars. Rogue One. Date. You?”
Behind them, Magnus groaned and covered his face with his hands in a perfect imitation of the second time they had met.
Simon just smiled widely, and laced his hands together with Raphael’s as he asked in perfect seriousness,
“Was that a Yoda reference?”