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English
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Published:
2016-05-26
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Sunrise

Summary:

1. It is canon that Raphael taught Ragnor Spanish. Personally, I think it’s a little silly to say Ragnor wouldn’t have learned Spanish long before meeting Raphael, but for a second, let’s pretend this is true. (Or maybe, Ragnor is pretending not to speak Spanish so Raphael can teach him? ;)
2. Lin Manuel Miranda owns my soul.
3. Also, first kisses.

Notes:

Work Text:

The Hotel Dumort was always calmer when Camille Belcourt was out of town. On nights like these, Raphael lead in her absence. On nights like these, Ragnor Fell sometimes stayed at the Hotel when visiting New York instead of rooming with Magnus Bane.

On nights like these, Ragnor switched his sleep schedule to stay up with Raphael - catching up, gossipping about Magnus or their other friends, discussing current events, watching movies, or even learning Spanish. On dawns like these, Raphael’s window wasn’t boarded all the way up because he had someone around to fix it later. The first rays of the sun came in through the window and caressed the floor, far enough to be safe but close enough so Raphael could experience at least part of the sunrise he’d been deprived of for so long.

On dawns like these, Ragnor lay in Raphael’s king-sized bed already ready to go to sleep, sharing a bed coming naturally to them. They were just friends, but there was nothing just about it.

“The sun is coming up, Raphael. Surely, we can sleep?”

“I wasn’t aware I’m obligated to go to sleep at the first rays of sun, Ragnor. We haven’t finished your vocabulary lesson.” Raphael was sitting on his heels on the bed, holding a sheet of paper in his hand. Ragnor rolled his eyes, but didn’t protest as the other carried on. “Dorado.”

“Golden.”

Bombilla.

“Lightbulb.”

Primavera.

“Spring.”

Ragnor answered the questions immediately without problem, growing a little irritated that Raphael felt the need to quiz him on such basic vocabulary when they were long past this level.

Sobrino.”

“Nephew.”

Amanecer.”

“Dawn.”

Corazón.”

“Heart.”

Raphael’s voice was even, almost bored, and Ragnor watched the ceiling as he waited for the other to be satisfied with his Spanish knowledge.

Me haces feliz.

"A full sentence? Oh, no... I’m afraid I’m not clever enough for this. What happened to listing colours and family members?” 

Raphael rolled his eyes and gently swatted Ragnor with the sheet of paper. The warlock smirked.

“You make me happy.”

“Very good. Enamorarse.”

“To fall in love.”

No puedo vivir sin ti.”

Ragnor hesitated a moment longer than he should have - not because the sentence was so difficult, but because the air seemed to change around them.

“I can’t live without you,” he said softly, painfully aware of how true the words were. If only Raphael knew how much he meant to a centuries old warlock ready to harden.

Raphael sucked in a breath. They both knew he didn’t need it, so Ragnor frowned, trying to guess what was going through his best friend’s mind.

Abrázame.”

“Hold me.”

Ámame.”

“Love me.”

“I think I do.”

Ragnor opened his mouth, already used to firing out the translations without thinking about them before he realised the words were in English. Raphael was clutching the sheet of paper, eyes fixed on the words and refusing to make eye contact.

Ragnor sat up on the bed.

“I know I do.”

Raphael frowned in confusion and he raised his head a little, but not quite enough to meet Ragnor’s eyes.”

“What?”

“I know I love you.”

It had been obvious to him for so long, but Ragnor never wanted to assume, never wanted to ak for more than Raphael was willing to give. He was content to have the vampire with him, no matter how - but that didn’t mean he never wished for something else...

They were both aware of Ragnor’s heartbeat quickening, Ragnor saw it from the way Raphael’s hands shook. He thought he knew what the other was thinking, because it was the same thing Ragnor wondered about. They had always been closer than others say friends should be, sharing beds and making jokes and really, how can you tell if this was different?

Ragnor cleared his throat.

“How do you say, kiss me?”

Raphael stared stubbornly at Ragnor’s chest.

Bésame.

Ragnor smiled.

“If you insist.”

He leaned in slowly, heart beating in his chest still afraid that he misunderstood, that the moment would be gone and Raphael would pull back and nothing would be the same between them again. Raphael finally looked up and his eyes widened in surprise to see the warlock so close, and for a moment Ragnor thought this is it, this is where I lose him forever.

Raphael learned forward suddenly, much too eager once he was sure of what Ragnor was doing, and the warlock wanted to laugh. Their lips met in the dark room lit only by the first sunrays and a bedside lamp. Raphael pushed closer and closer until he was sitting in Ragnor’s lap, his fingers curling into the warlock’s shirt. They stayed close even after their lips parted, arms around each other.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Raphael said quietly, and Ragnor found himself laughing in response.

“You think?”

“You did very well.”

Ragnor kissed his vampire’s forehead.

“I’m glad you think so.”