mine to want, mine to need.

Raphael is pretty sure Simon thinks he's clever, even though he's proven not to be. Like now for instance, the rest of the vampires went out for the night, but he stayed around to make sure the fledgling didn't do anything stupid, like let his Shadowhunter friends in again.

Simon kept his distance from everyone since Raphael let him back into the hotel. He stayed out of everyone's way, barely said anything to them and spoke mostly under his breath. Raphael thought it was odd and tried teasing some kind of reaction out of him, but Simon kept telling him to leave him alone.

And so Raphael did, until he kept smelling something distinct. Familiar in which he was too keenly aware of to ignore it. So he stood in the kitchen, trying to contemplate when he left the hotel for a long extended period of time.

Before he could remember every place he went to for the past several weeks, Simon staggers into the kitchen. His hair's a mess, unlike most times when it's pushed up and styled. He's wearing a black shirt and shorts, and ignoring Raphael's presence and opens the fridge, taking out a container filled with thick cold blood, he sets it on the counter and reaches for a glass in the cupboard.

Raphael notices the way his shirt rides up, exposing the smooth expanse of his back and spine. Raphael lets out a deep sigh and averts his gaze.

What's more infuriating about Simon as he sets the cup down and tips the container, is that the shirt Simon is wearing is not his. He's been missing that shirt for several weeks now and wondered if it was ripped during a fight with the Shadowhunters or maybe the werewolves.

He watches Simon for a bit longer before finally walking around the island and leans against the fridge with his body turned to Simon. Except Simon's gulping down his drink, his eyes are closed as if savoring the taste of blood going down his throat. He groans and sets the cup down, panting before grabbing the handle of the pitcher and is about to pour himself some more when he stops.

Finally acknowledging Raphael's presence.

"What?" Simon asked in a groggy voice, low and sleepy.

This does something to Raphael and he can't exactly identify what it is, nor the warm feeling of Simon wearing his clothes.

Simon continues drinking his second glass of blood, and Raphael can't help but admire the long inviting neck, unmarked and the way Simon's adam's apple bobs. He keeps his eyes closed, not tight or forced, but enjoying the taste of blood replenishing him. He sets the cup down, panting softly and when he opens his eyes, he turns his gaze to Raphael. His frown makes him look smaller as Raphael leans forward, touching the collar of the shirt and says with enough delicacy.

"This.. is mine."

Simon blinks a few times while Raphael keeps his hand on the shirt, smoothing his fingers between the fabric, waiting for it to sink into Simon's head. When it does, Simon fidgets and a smile that isn't forced but more filled with embarrassment rises to his face. His fangs extend out and he looks down at the glass instead at Raphael.

"I.. uhh.. Like your clothes better than mine."

"You could've asked."

"You would've said no."

Raphael wasn't going to lie, he would've said no. Maybe lock his room if Simon had asked, but he didn't mind that Simon wore his clothes, he was just interested in what Simon did exactly while he stood in his bedroom and looked through his wardrobe until he found a suitable one that wouldn't be recognized.

The shirt smelled too much of Raphael and Simon was probably always wearing it to bed. Sleeping in it, wandering around with his scent, the others would've noticed and yet they said nothing and again, Raphael did not mind.

"What else have you stolen from me?" Raphael asked, dropping his hand from the shirt collar.

"This shirt and a jacket," Simon said, his body tensed as he reached for the pitcher to refill his glass with more blood. "I haven't.. Taken anything else.."

Raphael raised his brow. "How long have you been wearing my clothes."

"A week…"

It was when the scent started appearing, confusing Raphael until he realized where it was coming from. It was after a meeting when Raphael noticed it, there were also other times when Simon walked through the halls, only to imprint himself all the way back to his bedroom.

A week, Simon's been wearing his shirt for a week.

"You haven't taken it off."

Simon swallowed, intentionally avoiding Raphael's gaze. "I've had showers."

Which was true from the smell of fruit coming off of him, clean and less otherworldly. More welcoming and distracting. Raphael gritted his teeth and watched as Simon began the process of taking the shirt off.

"What are you doing?"

"You seem bothered," Simon said, lifting the shirt over his head which involved Raphael shifting on his feet and trying not to look at the exposed skin, only to reach over and grab Simon before he got the rest of the shirt off.

"No. Keep it on."

Simon brows pinched together as he slowly pulls the shirt back on, staring at Raphael before grabbing his glass. "So… you want me to keep the shirt?"

Raphael glares at him. "I have many shirts."

"So is that a yes?"

Raphael rolled his eyes and was about to leave when Simon began to follow him. "Is this a shirt you don't like? Is it your favorite? Oh. I know, it's a gift from someone you hate, right? Am I right? Tell me I'm right?"

Raphael sighed deeply, not knowing why he bothered to care if Simon was wearing one of his clothes, not until they walked into the next room where several vampires had returned from a night of partying. They all smelled distinctly of alcohol, sweat, and other known perfume and cologne that Raphael didn't want to know about. There was also the keen scent of sex and it only made him uncomfortable from the way the group was looking at him and Simon.

"Someone hooked up," Simon muttered under his breath, walking over to them and sitting on the arm wrist of the couch.

"Finally," one of the girls says, a playful smile on her lips as she staggered over to Simon and wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her overly ample chest.

Raphael cleared his throat, except no one seemed to have noticed him. Most of the others were already crowding around Simon, petting him, touching his hair and one trailed their hand along his neck and down to the hem of his shirt.

The girl who wrapped herself around Simon smelled his hair, her eyes closed and the smile rising to her lips again. "You two have been busy."

Simon looked up, "What do you mean?"

"Raphael is all over you," one of the guys says, tipping back his drink.

"He means, our leader's scent is all over you," another guy said, he was grinning at Raphael who was glaring at him from where he stood.

Simon chuckled, awkwardly. "It's just his shirt."

"Yeah. We know, we're not stupid," the girl said, whispering in his ear. "You're practically claimed already, your skin stinks of him."

Raphael rolled his eyes and sighed. "Alright. Get off of him."

He didn't like the way they were all crowding around Simon, but there was also this instinctual feeling that they were all trying to rid his scent off of Simon at the same time. And his mind screamed at him to step in, but he was trying not to make it a big deal.

The girl chuckled. "Have fun."

She dropped her arms from Simon and stalked away with the rest of the group. They were laughing down the echoed halls.

Simon looked down at the shirt and smelled it. "They're right… this smells like you."

Raphael shook his head, he couldn't believe out of all the people in his life, it had to be Simon. "Of course it smells like me, it's mine and you didn't bother washing it, so it still has my scent on it."

Simon nodded, looking up at him. "Oh.. is that why they think something's between us?"

Raphael just looked at him, memorizing the way his hair was soft and his face was something akin to newness, a bright hope without anger, sadness and pain. He caught those expressions sometimes when Simon stood in the shadows, while Clary was in the light with her Shadowhunters. He always looked down at his hands, a wonder of many self-conscious thoughts that Raphael wanted to erase. Except now, Simon was looking at him, without fear, or anger, or disgust.

It was there that Raphael knew that he didn't mind Simon wearing his things, because all small part of him wanted Simon to feel at home, to not feel distant and closed in. He wanted Simon to need this place and the people in it, mostly himself.

His emotions burst free and he moved fast before Simon and stopped centimeters from Simon's face. A shuddered gasp escaped him, he tensed as he leaned back, staring at Raphael in confusion.

"I'm.. sorry," Raphael murmured, his mouth tingled with need to press against Simon, except he couldn't, not like this. So when he pulled away, Simon jerked forward, a desperation clutching to Raphael and pulling him back, except with Simon's inability to control his strength. They both toppled onto the couch.

A groan escaped Simon, "I.. didn't mean to do that.."

"You didn't?" Raphael said, a slight enjoyment rushing through him as he leaned up and looked down at Simon who was smiling up at him.

"I don't mind, though, if you don't."

Raphael smiled and let Simon caress the side of his face. "Do I smell like you?" he asked softly. "Do you like that I smell like you?"

Raphael didn't know how to respond, there was something knowingly in Simon's eyes. As if everything was finally piecing themselves together.

"I don't mind it." There was so many unspoken words he wished to convey, but he couldn't, so when he lifted himself up, Simon grabbed his arm.

"Stay…" Simon whispered, "please."

Raphael felt his mouth go parch with need, when he leaned down, he hovered over Simon, their eyes staring into one another's until he finally asked with a hint of fear.

"Can I kiss you?"

Simon licked his lips and nodded.

Raphael smiled and closed his eyes, when he kissed him, it filled him up like his blood lust. He controlled it well enough to softly kiss Simon and when he pulled away, he chuckled at the sight of Simon with pursed lips and closed eyes only to realize he was no longer being kissed.

"Maybe a longer kiss next time," Simon said.

Raphael leaned down and caressed the side of his head, taking in the smell of his hair and the softness of his skin. He kissed along his jawline until he found his lips again, Simon opened his mouth and Raphael wasted no time in twining their tongues and pulling out moans from Simon. He found himself touching along Simon's arms and reaching the hem of his shirt, sliding his hand underneath.

Simon groaned, arching his back, his own hands gripped Raphael's arms. "Is this the only time you're patient?"

Raphael smiled against his lips. "I can be patient." He kissed him, slow and drawn out before pulling back and listening to Simon groan, trying to pull him closer. "If you want me too. I can have you begging for hours." His hands touched along the smooth expanse of Simon's sides, the muscle twitching.

He smiled at Simon's tightly closed eyes, breath coming out frantically. "Do you want that, Simon?"

"No.. No.. Please, Ra-Raphael.."

He hummed and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips before grabbing Simon's wrists and bringing him up. Simon wrapped his arms around Raphael's waist.

"No. Don't leave me."

Raphael rolled his eyes. He could feel heat running through him and from the echoes of laughter, they were about to gain more company if they didn't move.

"Let's go to my room," Raphael said, pulling Simon's arms away from his waist and instead he intertwined his hand into Simon's. In which Simon took gladly, but stayed close to him.

Raphael noticed the way Simon staggered behind him. Unlike early when he walked into the kitchen, deprived of blood, in this case it was more on the level of lust pouring through him and when they got to Raphael's room. Simon didn't hesitate to throw the shirt he was wearing to the floor.

Raphael rolled his eyes as Simon walked to the bed, unzipping his pants.

"You're responsive," he murmured, undressing with less speed than Simon.

"Come on, quit making me wait," Simon called out, already lying on the bed with his arms stretched out.

Raphael narrowed his eyes at him and raised his brow. Out of all the people, it had to be Simon. He wasn't complaining and maybe he had many other times, but having Simon on his bed, all to himself and willingly to be with Raphael.

There was no way he was about to say no to Simon, not ever.

.

.

fin.

authors notes: There's a lot of shit going on about Cassandra Clare, I scrolled through the anti-cc tags on Tumblr and found out about her bullshit. But some people still respect Raphael being asexual and I don't mind either, I do like the thought of Simon being pansexual. A little diversity never hurt anyone, unless you let it. :/

I did watch the Shadowhunters tv series, but I was mostly interested in Saphael so I just watched their scenes together. :D I really like Raphael's smoky voice, it really adds to his whole vampire-leader thing. And Simon is just so adorable, his cute smile and everything is just so adorable.

My 'smut' writing skills suck, so I avoid it.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Mortal Instrument's series characters.

Reviews are appreciated. No flames or bashing please.