#sub!raphael

Michael always does thorough research before engaging in any kind of scene. He wouldn’t touch a rope before a textbook’s worth of reading and a dozen classes, and he’s still working his way up to knifeplay (mostly because all three of his siblings have leapt down that well without looking twice and he will not be as reckless.) No one is getting hurt under his watch. He won’t risk another incident like that time Lucifer had a panic attack and went catatonic for half of a day. This is his responsibility, and he bears it proudly.

But this game is a lot less dangerous than some of the ones they play.

In Michael’s research, he’d come across suggestions for titles. The pet part was obvious and fitting, though in the end, Michael’s always going to prefer feeling the shape of his sibling’s names in his mouth, no matter the situation. On the other hand, what they’d given him for playing the dominant role… Michael had thought owner was a little presumptuous.

No one could own Raphael, no more than anyone could tame Gabriel. Michael is happier not having to. To let them exist, to serve as a safe party to retreat to or ask for affection from, that’s enough for him.

As usually, Raphael comes to him. They tend to start this on their own. It’s the only way they can get into the right headspace, but once they’re settled into their role, they seek Michael out. Not for much. This time, like most times, they catch him on the couch, crawl onto the cushion beside him, and lay over his lap. The demand in it is obvious, and Michael bites back a smile as he lets his hand drift up and down Raphael’s spine. They relax with a heavy, purring sigh. They don’t wear much to show that they’re playing. No decorative gear like Gabriel’s started collecting or even a collar. Raphael had tried to wear one twice, but in the end, they’d spent so much of their scene clawing at it that they’d torn it right off. It felt too restrictive, they’d explained later. Instead, Raphael strips off everything, and Michael takes full advantage, curling his hand into a fist and running his knuckles down their back with a little more pressure. They slump further into the couch in response.

The one exception since Raphael had ditched their collar had been once or twice when Gabriel had playfully placed a matching set of cat ears on their head, made by the same person who had made him his own. Raphael allowed that when it happened. They’re lying around the apartment somewhere, but Michael won’t get up to find them. First of all because removing Raphael from his lap now would be an unforgivable crime, but secondly, because it isn’t his place. It’s Gabriel’s only. Michael brings his other hand up to run down Raphael’s spine. He can feel where the most tension is now, and he starts rubbing his thumbs against the muscles. Raphael groans happily, crossing their arms to pillow their head.

“Are you going to sleep?” Michael asks. It wouldn’t be the first time Raphael laid on top of him and started snoring. Him and Gabriel both, and even Lucifer, on occasion. He thinks they find it comforting to be able to make sure their siblings can’t leave while they’re asleep. Michael won’t complain when he finds it just as nice to have Raphael’s body weighing him down like a warm, heavy blanket. One that purrs whenever he massages a good spot. Raphael finally answers his question with a sleepy meow, telling him that they might and there’s nothing he’ll be able to do about it if they choose to. He chuckles. That’s exactly how he likes it.

Raphael moves every so often. They shift and squirm and stretch, with lazy, yawning meows to accompany each. Michael works out all the knots in their back as they do. He’s pleased to find a few in the muscles he and Raphael have been focusing on during their shared workouts, evidence of their efforts that’s just as satisfying as the low ache he’s felt in his own right afterwards or the strength they both have created in their vessels.

They stay like that for a while. Michael doesn’t keep track of time.

Eventually, they’re interrupted by the apartment door opening and Gabriel and Lucifer stepping inside. That’s followed by Fen dashing out of the bedroom, jumping up on Gabriel’s legs. Michael studies Gabriel’s face. She looks stressed, and when Lucifer puts a hand on her shoulder, she snaps at him. Half a year ago, and Lucifer would have immediately responded to that with his own aggression, but he withdraws, giving Gabriel a little space. She bows down to pick up Fen. The dog wriggles and licks at her face as she hugs him.

Gabriel puts Fen back down before she heads into the bedroom. Lucifer waits a moment, looks over at Michael and Raphael, and follows her. He nudges Fen back from entering with him with his foot before shutting the door. Fen whines. He scratches at it, but when he doesn’t get a response, he pads over to the couch and drops down in front of it with a huff. Raphael reaches down and pats his head. They’re slightly tense again. Their eyes are open and alert, locked onto the bedroom door. Michael helps them relax again with the same steady petting motions as before.

There’s the muffled noise of Gabriel shouting something at Lucifer, and then Lucifer’s response, calmer. Quiet for a moment. Gabriel again, still upset but winding down. Then one thud, and another, and more silence following that.

When they finally emerge, Lucifer opening the door and coming through first, Gabriel is down on the floor. She’s all dressed up for her role as opposed to Gabriel. The harness is the first thing they bought, for other reasons than this, but it fits Gabriel’s torso snuggly and helps her feel safe. She wears her collar for the same reason, a dark green one that Lucifer bought the tags for. One side of the tags says Gabriel, but the other, in a move that surprised Gabriel when she received them and made her nearly suffocate Lucifer with how tightly she hugged him, clearly says Loki.

The other gear came together over time. A pair of mitts that acted as paws. Kneepads for her own comfort and safety as she made her way across the apartment floors. Two tails, one that attaches to a butt plug if that’s the way they feel like taking the scene that day, and another that just fastens around her hips and holds it in place for days like today, when all they want is a little comfort and a way to stop dealing with so much stress. Her ears, of course, which are cute and floppy and match Raphael’s still missing ones. The muzzle only gets put on sometimes, and today is one of them, so Michael knows she must really need to relax.

Lucifer leans down to scratch her hair. Gabriel butts her head against his hand with a playful growl. “Be good,” he tells her.

She makes her way over to the couch. Raphael watches her approach. When Gabriel gets close enough and barks for attention, she gets batted on the muzzle with Raphael’s hand, a quick strike and a hiss. Gabriel barks at them again. Michael slides his hand up to massage the back of Raphael’s neck. “Raphael, no. Bad cat. Apologize to your sister.” Raphael grumbles.

Gabriel lays her head plaintively on the couch cushion, eyes wide and pleading with Raphael. Raphael turns their head to peer up at Michael, and then leans towards Gabriel. They butt heads gently, and then Raphael’s tongue darts out to lick along Gabriel’s muzzle. They move up to where the muzzle meets Gabriel’s skin, lapping kitten kisses up her cheek and the bridge of her nose and along her eyebrow until Raphael is satisfied they’ve shown Gabriel how much they love her. Gabriel nuzzles them back, her own tongue restrained by her muzzle or else Raphael would have ended up getting licked in response. Gabriel’s kisses were not nearly as tiny or neat.

She turns away from Raphael. Fen has been watching her, unfazed by any of this. Gabriel pauses to pet him with her mitt, and he seems satisfied that she’s no longer as upset as she was earlier.

Raphael rolls onto their back, looking up at Michael. Their sleepy expression is long gone. “Lucifer-“ he starts, and before he can even make his request, his brother offers one of Raphael’s toys to him. He must have gone to fetch it while Raphael and Gabriel were greeting each other. “Thank you,” Michael says, and he reaches up to catch Lucifer’s hand in his as he takes the toy, tugging him down close enough to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Anything for our pets. Especially when they’re being so well-behaved,” Lucifer says. He lets Michael have the toy, and he presents the other one he went to get to Gabriel. It’s a tug-of-war, her favorite to playfight with Lucifer over. Gabriel barks happily, sitting up on her knees with her paws bent at her chest, begging. Lucifer dangles it in front of her until she tries to grab it between her teeth. The muzzle stops her, and she whines, bumping her covered mouth uselessly against the toy. Lucifer doesn't taunt her for long. He bends down to unstrap the muzzle, pausing before he takes it off to make sure that's what she wants, and letting it drop to the floor. Gabriel jumps at the toy the minute she's free. Lucifer doesn't pull it back in time. She gets a good grip on it with her teeth and bows to the floor to drag it (and Lucifer) down with her.

Raphael’s toy is much more dainty. It’s a bendy rod with a few feathers attached to the end, brightly colored and soft when Michael runs them between his fingers. Raphael’s eyes are locked on them. He smiles, tipping the rod down so that the feathers tickle over their face. Raphael wrinkles their nose. When Michael withdraws the feathers, that’s when they strike, trying to catch the toy. (Not that hard, though. They’ve curled their fingers up to resemble cat’s paws much like Gabriel’s mitts shape her hands.) The feathers dance between their darting paws as Michael plays with them.

A few feet away, Lucifer has gotten down on the floor with Gabriel, who is growling around the toy in her mouth. He tugs on it, and she yanks it back. He looks like he’s having as much fun as she is. She and Raphael are not the only ones who needed this break.

Raphael keeps trying to catch the feathers, endlessly entertained by this simple and seemingly unachievable goal. They even bite at the feathers if Michael lets them fall too close to their mouth. With his other hand, he pets their stomach. Occasionally, he tickles out a noise that rolls into a purr.