#this is pulled a lot from my own experiences being asexual and arospec and how that colours how i approach sex and relationships

[t4tstarvingdog]

okay say what you will about "comphet" and "settling," and maybe this is my arospec-ness showing, but i don't feel any attraction to women (romantic or sexual) and would still be 100% down with being in a relationship with one and even marrying a woman. i am pretty much entirely gay when it comes to actual attraction, but mostly consider myself bi or pan when it comes to my approach to relationships, and i just? think that maybe it'd be cool if more people recognized that however other queer people approach relationships and sex when it comes to gender, it doesn't negate their identities. it doesn't mean it's comphet. it doesn't mean it's secretly harming them. sometimes people just choose to have sex, or be in a relationship, or whatever, and it might not "align" with what you think their label ought to be, but it sincerely does not matter at all. it's not your sexuality, or your romantic orientation, or your own personal understanding of yourself, it's theirs. and it doesn't make them bad at being queer, it just means that they're human and get to 1. make their own choices and 2. not conform to other people's ideas about themselves

[arocharacteradvice]

I'm demiromantic and recently wrote a sci-fi novel with an aro main character. I partially based his experiences off of my own, but I'm worried that it's not clear enough that he's aromantic. He's gay aromantic and has had a number of romantic/sexual relationships, but values his platonic bond with his best friend more. He realizes he's aromanitc during the book as he's in a romantic/sexual relationship, but there's a mismatch between his and his partner's (who's allo) feelings. (1/2)

(2/2) He's social and physically affectionate, so he thinks of romantic relationships as friendships with sex where you're allowed to be more affectionate. It's the difference between his and his partners feelings that makes him realize that isn't how it is for everyone. It hurts their relationship. His partner and others accuses him of being cold and he faces arophobia, but later he gets an apology and people around him validate him as loving and aro. Are there pitfalls I should be aware of?

Oh, this is another one of the two-part ask about the aromantic main character in my sci-fi novel from the demiromantic writer! I was hoping to make this a series and have him end up with the partner I mentioned in the last ask at the end, but with the understanding that he's aromantic and while he does care about his partner its not in a romantic way. They go into it openly knowing their feelings are mismatched. Do you think it's okay or still amatonormative to have him end in a monogamous qpr?

Hi!

So, first off, I really love that the character eventually gets an apology from his friends. I’m sure lots of us on the aro spectrum will find that very satisfying to read, myself included!

I also think your story has potential to be a really interesting portrayal of an aro piecing together how he’s different to others, as if I’ve understood properly it’s not a lack of feeling but a difference that makes him notice his aromanticism, and that’s another thing I’d love to read because we’re in desperate need of coming out stories and media that examines how aros question seeing as we’re realising a lack rather than a differing attraction. As you’re someone on the arospec who does experience attraction, I imagine pulling from your own experiences will be very useful in this case, though you can of course always ask aromantics to compare and contrast experiences if you need to.

As for making it clear your character is aromantic: I’ve written a post about this topic here, but the tl;dr is that you can just use the word. Explaining what this means for the character in the text is always good, but don’t feel like there’s anything stopping you from hitting your readers over the head with the specifics of what your character is and isn’t. 

It’s difficult to think of specific pitfalls with what you’ve described. That doesn’t mean your writing has no awkward phrasing or dodgy implications, because I haven’t read it, but it seems like you’re covering bases by doing things like actively presenting arophobic characters as wrong and needing to grow. If you’re asexual, I would recommend following a few allosexual aros and maybe asking for further specific advice about writing a gay aro’s experience of a romantic/sexual experience, but that’s about it.

Whether or not it’s amatonormative to have an aro end up in a monogamous qpr is really about the specifics (again) of that situation. It’s far from inherently arophobic, as it’s the reality for lots of aros, but I agree that it’s something to be handled with care.

 The biggest things that stick out for me are that a) the aro character is intended to end up with a previous partner who was arophobic to them in the past, and b) that you describe the two as having mismatched feelings. The first thing here means that you’re going to have to put a lot of work into showing how the alloromantic partner has grown and made it up to the aro, because otherwise as a reader I would struggle to feel convinced that the relationship would be healthy for the aro, and would likely have my romance repulsion triggered.

This isn’t to say it *is* unhealthy to write a relationship like this, just that I’m on high alert for situations that might trigger an aro character’s repulsion, especially as they are the character I’m likely to identify with, and I imagine that’s the same for a lot of romance repulsed people. If you decide you do want to write this relationship, I think you just need to sit down and go over the eventual relationship dynamic you’ve written like it’s a contract, and look for ‘loopholes’ that might lead to a reader not being convinced the aro is safe. And then fix them. 

The second thing just concerns me because you can take ‘mismatched’ to mean they have different or unequal feelings towards their relationship. I think you may just have meant they have different base feelings about each other (romantic/platonic), and if so that’s fine and obviously fairly standard, but if not you may need to tweak a few things to make sure both characters are going into this relationship with the same intentions and ideas about what they want it to be.

Really, what I think you need to do is consider *why* you want the characters to end up together, because reasoning and intent are I think very important aspects of what makes something amatonormative. Does the idea of either character ending the series single make you feel sad or guilty? Do you feel that their relationship is just how your story would be expected to end? Do you not actually know why you want to write it? If yes to any of these, it might be amatonormative. Hopefully you figure out what’s best for you and your story.

Best wishes,

- Mod Kaladin

[aroacehogwarts]

Like The Phoenix

Happy Solstice, all! This was a fic created in case one of the White Dragon participants couldn’t finish their gift. Happily, they can! So instead this is a little teaser of what I’m sure is to be an avalanche of awesome! Gift giving officially starts tomorrow. For now, please enjoy this aroace-centric fic. :D

~

Gryffindor, where the brave reside! Ravenclaw, where the wisest dwell! Slytherin, where the ambitious stay! Hufflepuff... where hard workers live?

Like the brave and righteous don’t work hard to correct injustice? Like the wise don’t work hard to gain knowledge and experience? Like ambition means you don’t have to work hard to achieve results? Sometimes, being in Hufflepuff was an identity crisis. 

It was one certain Hufflepuff that struggled with this on the night we watch them. It was near the beginning of the school year. Slytherin had won last year’s Cup. Ravenclaw the year before. And Gryffindor the year before that. A lot could change in the coming months, but Slytherin already had a nice head start. It wasn’t particularly uncommon for a student to not see their house win the Cup at the end of the year the entire time they were at Hogwarts, but this student had never seen that coming. The house known for hard work and toil, and even their Head of House wasn’t certain the last time Hufflepuff had won the Cup - though they did know Hufflepuff had won the Cup at some point. A small comfort, if even that.

So what, really, was Hufflepuff? Who, really, was this Hufflepuff? Let us call them, Alex, for their own anonymity and comfort. However, we shall share their story because it is an important one, and one that Alex would want shared.

~

“Avis.” BANG.

“Avis.” BANG.

“Avis.” BANG.

Alex conjured flights of bird after flights of bird. The spell wasn’t mastered, so the birds disappeared minutes after conjuring, meaning Alex wasn’t buried in an avalanche of feathers.

“Could you quit that?” an annoyed voice came from the doorway that Alex’s back was facing.

Well, the noise was bound to have drawn somebody at some point.

“No,” Alex replied tersley. “Avis!”

“Incendio!” Fire burst through the dark, stone room, setting most of the flocks alight, withering the birds away to nothing.

“Hey!” Alex rose and turned. “Do you know how dangerous that is?”

The fire-caster wasn’t someone Alex recognized off the bat, but Alex guessed they were a year younger. Their blue bowtie identified them as a Ravenclaw. Their scowl made their emotions at the moment quite clear.

“Dangerous for you, maybe. I could put the fire out far before it hurt me.”

“Rude.” Alex turned and sat, unwilling to get into a duel with this random younger year. Instead of the calming casting, Alex pulled out a cube. One side held a large button, another a series of smaller buttons, another a metal ball that could be scrolled in any direction, and so forth. Alex took to playing with the cube instead.

“Hello? Aren’t you going to cast more birds? C’mon.”

Alex ignored them. The Ravenclaw was clearly itching for a fight. Alex did not want to give it to them.

The Ravenclaw sighed. “Fine, be that way.”

Alex relaxed slightly as their footsteps walked away, then immediately tensed when the footsteps started getting louder and closer again. 

“What’s your problem, huh?”

“Nothing,” Alex said, keeping a level voice.

“Yeah, I bet. You and all the other perfect Hufflepuffs.”

“What?” Alex couldn’t help the tinge of surprise that came with the word. “Perfect Hufflepuffs? Don’t you mean loser Hufflepuffs? Nobody Hufflepuffs?”

“Yeah, right. Free to just be yourselves, not having to live up to some restrictive stereotype that people think only means one thing making the pressure so great it literally breaks you.”

“Whoa, what?” was all Alex could manage. This was far beyond anything Alex had expected to deal with today. Wasn’t one internal crisis enough for one day? Apparently not.

“Nothing. Nevermind.” The Ravenclaw turned to leave. Alex got the impression that this time, there would be no returning.

“Wait! No, that was a... useless response. I just didn’t know the other Houses felt the same way?”

The Ravenclaw paused but didn’t turn to face Alex. “Same way?”

“Yeah, I feel like...,” Alex paused to gain courage to say the words out loud. “I feel like I don’t fit in anywhere. We’re supposedly the House of hard work, right? But bravery, wisdom, and ambition don’t take hard work? Anyone from any House could work hard. So what does it even mean to be a Hufflepuff? What do I have to be proud of?”

The Ravenclaw was silent for a few moments. “Nothing.” Alex’s heart came crashing down. Alex turned to avoid having to look at the Ravenclaw. “None of us do, really. The Houses are just meaningless sortings based off a couple of dead people several hundred years ago. Who knows what purpose the sorting really served back then. I definitely don’t think it serves a purpose now, though. I mean, everyone thinks Ravenclaw just means book smarts, but that’s not the only kind of intelligence. It’s not definitively the best kind of intelligence either. And you think there are no intelligent Gryffindors nor Hufflepuffs nor Slytherins? The Houses are just oversimplified views of the traits that a person, at one point in their life, when they’re young and are highly unlikely to know what you really want now nevermind for the rest of your life.”

Now it was Alex’s turn to sit in stunned silence.

“Wow, that was... Wow,” was all Alex could manage. Everything they’d been unable to articulate had just been summed up by this unknown Ravenclaw. “Alex.”

“Hm? Oh, Jamie.”

Alex felt an odd kinship with Jamie. The sorting rant was oddly relaxing. That’s what made Alex admit, “you know, it’s funny. Realizing I was asexual was easy. Realizing I was arospec was harder. But coming out as both of them to my family and friends was a breeze. Yeah, I was nervous, but I was also excited. I guess I’m just lucky, but I never had any crisis over my orientation. My House, though? Crises galore.” Alex laughed, a tad darkly.

“A-asexual?”

“Never heard of it?”

“No. What’s it mean?”

“It generally means a lack of sexual attraction.”

“So then arospec. Short for?”

“Aromantic spectrum. Aromantic is a lack of romantic attraction. The spectrum part just means it’s not so clear as never experiencing romantic attraction. Some experience it only under certain circumstances, some experience it just at a very low level, some might experience it at differing intensities, etc. Anything beyond just plain experiencing or not experiencing romantic attraction.” Sometimes it could be tiring to explain this sort of thing over and over again, but this time, Alex was actually excited. Jamie seemed genuinely interested. This wasn’t a case of someone just not knowing or understanding Alex. This was a case of something thirsting to know what these words meant. Alex was inexplicably excited over this.

“If arospec is a thing then asex-spec? Asespec? Must be a thing, too.”

“Yes! Acespec. Same principal as arospec but with sexual attraction.”

“And are these the only words you know? Asexual, acespec, aromantic, arospec?”

“No, there are tons of terms out there! More than I could even list. There’s - and you can attach asexual or sexual or aromantic or romantic after each of these - demi, gray, lith, cupio, fray, apothi, quoi, etc. Lesse, what’d I say? Quoi means you confuse different attraction types or can’t tell them apart. It can also mean a whole host of other things, like finding the whole concept of attraction meaningless or illogical to you. Demi means you don’t experience an attraction until after a bond is formed. Gray is basically another term for acespec - it means a whole lot of things that basically mean you don’t simply experience attraction or don’t simply not experience attraction. And... I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“Yes, but go on, go on!”

Alex smiled, a genuine smile - the first in what felt like ages. “What haven’t I defined yet?”

Jamie closed their eyes, trying to remember as much as Alex. “Lith, cupio, fray, and apothi,” Jamie said.

Alex raised an eyebrow but didn’t stop to question. “Lith means you can feel and desire a type of attraction and relationship but only in theory. Fray means you experience attraction until you form a bond with someone. And apothi means you’re specifically asexual or aromantic and sex or romance repulsed. And these are really just the tip of the iceberg. I’ve got a book I’ve been bogarting if you want it?”

“The book talks about all this stuff?”

“Yes! It’s got definitions, theories, and even personal stories in it. It’s helped me feel not so alone.”

Jamie was quiet, thoughtful. “So can you be more than one thing at once? Like bi and demi?”

“Oh yeah, you can be so much more than that. You could be demibiromantic quoipansexual or whatever mix of things best suits you.”

“I would love to see the book,” Jamie said quietly.

“Well come on, then!” Alex hopped up and walked over to Jamie. “It’s just in my dorm room. Don’t tell anybody, but I keep it under my pillow. It comforts me. I’d be happy to know it’s helping someone else.”

Jamie seemed a little flustered following a few paces after Alex. “I don’t want to take something so precious to you.”

“You’re not! I’m sharing.”

Without any sense of awkwardness or embarrassment, Alex knocked on the barrels outside the common room once they’d reached the area by the kitchens. Alex couldn’t help but laugh at Jamie partly attempting to avert their eyes and partly sneaking a curious glance. “Houses are meaningless, remember?” Alex teased.

“Right,” Jamie relaxed, climbing in after Alex.

~

And that is where our story ends, dear listener. As they say, the rest is history. Alex and Jamie became close friends after that night, and each were welcomed without too many second glances into the other’s common room. Jamie soon came out as aromantic acespec to Alex, the only person they were out to for many years.

Hopefully the moral of this story has been made clear, but if not, let me spell it out for you: it’s not the labels that others put on you that matters; it’s your actions - big and small alike - that matter.

[demiromanticmickey]

Ache

Fandom: Shadowhunters Pairings: Simon Lewis x Raphael Santiago Rating: T Summary: After Simon was all tucked in, Raphael lied down beside him. He turned on his side, supporting himself on his elbow, gazing at Simon’s sleeping form. Raphael frowned deeply, but it was more at himself than at Simon. And more so, still, at the rare feeling forming somewhere inside himself.

———————————————————————- Notes: This fic is a version of my other fic Welcome Home and is through Raphael’s pov. This mostly deals with Raphael being aroace. You don’t have to read my other fic to follow along with this one, but if you’d like to read it, I’ll link it here. :)

I’m not ace, but I am arospec, so I’ve drawn on my own aromantic experiences (and what I’ve read up on asexuality over the years) as inspiration for this fic.

Read on AO3

———————————————————————-

As soon as the door shut, Raphael’s eyes snapped open. But upon realizing who was in his room, he quickly closed them and waited, listening. Raphael’s senses were expertly trained, so he picked up the footsteps in his room, no matter how light they were. And he picked up on the shuddered breath Simon inhaled, realizing it sounded a lot like when someone had been crying. He felt Simon stop a few feet away from him, felt Simon’s eyes watching him briefly.

At the faint sounds of Simon settling himself down on the floor, Raphael opened his eyes again. He quirked an eyebrow at nothing in particular in his dark room. Was Simon- Did he really just sneak into Raphael’s room to sleep on his floor? Raphael remained in his bed for a few moments, confused on what to do. Ultimately, he thought Simon’s actions childish and decided to wake him up to take him back to his own room. When he leaned over his bed, though, and saw how peaceful Simon looked, despite the smeared blood around his eyes, Raphael couldn’t bring himself to do it. Raphael mentally kicked himself. This was just one more thing to add to the growing list of what he allowed Simon to get away with.

Raphael repositioned himself in his bed to try to go back to sleep. That wasn’t really working out, though, because all he could think of was how uncomfortable that floor must feel like. He rolled his eyes at himself, annoyed at how much trouble this fledgling was, and got up from his bed. He pulled the covers back and walked over to Simon to lay him down on the bed. Simon hadn’t made any movements to indicate he knew what was going on or that he would wake up. Figures, Raphael thought. Simon still wasn’t practicing on improving his enhanced senses.

After Simon was all tucked in, Raphael lied down beside him. He turned on his side, supporting himself on his elbow, gazing at Simon’s sleeping form. Raphael frowned deeply, but it was more at himself than at Simon. And more so, still, at the rare feeling forming somewhere inside himself.

Raphael turned over, his back to Simon now, and willed himself to sleep.

———————————————————————-

The duties as Vampire Leader always had Raphael up before anyone else in the hotel. He didn’t mind it. The role of leader fit Raphael very well. It wasn’t often that he was confronted with a problem he couldn’t solve. That was, of course, until he met Simon.

When Raphael woke up, he stiffened briefly, forgetting who was in his bed and why. Remembering the past day’s events, he rolled over and stared at Simon, eyeing him curiously. He was getting some sort of feeling again. He couldn’t really determine if it was good, or bad - or both. It was confusing, that much he could figure out. And the longer Raphael stared at Simon, the more the feeling grew. There was something - something inside him, Raphael thought offhandedly that maybe he was possessed - that made him want to run his hand through Simon’s messy, brown curls.

Raphael gasped and threw the covers off himself as he sat up - his realization hitting him like a freight train. He was possessed, but not by any spirit.

Simon stirred beside him and Raphael, very uncharacteristically, fled from Simon into the comfort and privacy of his bathroom. Great, Raphael thought. He was hiding, in the bathroom, from the boy he has a crush on.

“Get a fucking grip, Santiago. No seas pendejo,” Raphael cursed at himself. He took an unnecessary breath and opened the bathroom door.

Of course, Simon was not awake, he just changed sleeping positions. Raphael chuckled, a little relieved. But like all his other problems, he would have to confront this one too.

Raphael went about his early evening routine as usual, Simon making no other disturbed movements, and headed towards the kitchen. He poured himself a glass of blood and warmed it up in the microwave. It had a different taste after going through the microwave but it was still better than drinking it cold. He poured a second glass and warmed that up as well. He knew Simon formed a good habit of drinking a glass of blood first thing in the morning after Raphael had nagged him so many times about it. And as if summoned by the microwave beeping, Simon emerged in the doorway.

When he turned around, Raphael met Simon’s eyes with his own and held his gaze steadily. He walked confidently up to Simon and handed off the glass of blood before leaving the kitchen. He turned the corner into another hallway and slumped against the wall, thumping his head against it lightly. Alright, so he liked Simon, like, romantically. That was fine. He’s a grown man, a vampire, a leader. He could handle this.

———————————————————————-

Raphael could not handle this. Simon had now slept in his bed every day that week. Every day Simon came to his room a couple minutes earlier, and every day Raphael let him.

Things felt… different between them now - tense. At least, it felt that way on Raphael’s end. He didn’t know about Simon, but last night Raphael had to cut their training session short. Momentarily distracted by how close Simon had been when he stopped a punch from landing, Simon managed to knock Raphael’s legs out from under him. In a split second, Raphael found himself pinned down to the floor with Simon above him. They held eye contact, something they’d been doing increasingly, and suddenly Raphael felt as if he could choke even though he didn’t need air to breathe anymore. He made an excuse about some Vampire business and said he’d send in Lily to finish their training session.

Raphael made a quick getaway to his bedroom, pacing back and forth in his room. He’d been dead for some time now, so logically, Raphael knew his heart was incapable of beating. But there was something… that same ache from before. Like piece by piece his body became devoted to Simon, and that feeling just kept getting stronger, bigger.

Which made sleeping next to Simon almost painful. It hurt to know that he only had a part of Simon, that these moments in bed with him was all Raphael allowed himself. Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea if it only made him feel bad. And then he would remember that night Simon almost let Clary release Camille.

Raphael didn’t kid himself. He knew Simon would do anything for Clary, knew Simon loved her, and maybe always would. Could he allow himself to open up to someone who might still be in love with someone else? Could he allow himself to open up to someone who nearly went against him? Could he really blame Simon if he had? It’s not like Simon had fond memories associated with the DuMort. Raphael could understand that. He himself had died in the hotel, and it took years for him to be able to set foot in the same room he was murdered - the same room he had killed his friends.

As he ran a hand over his face, trying to relax, Raphael decided he’d have to deal with these feelings one way or another.

The following night, he made hasty work of his duties. If Raphael finished any of his tasks early, which he usually did, he’d get a head start on something saved for another night. He didn’t do that this time, though. Documents were signed, emails were sent, bills were paid, an order for a fresh supply of blood filled out, and Raphael even managed to get through Simon’s training session without any slip ups. And when Raphael had finished with all of that, he retreated to one of the lounges in the hotel - an empty one - to read.

Well, he tried to read, but Raphael only made it about a paragraph in before thoughts of Simon muscled their way into his mind. He shut his book in frustration. He was going about this all wrong. What he should have been doing was trying to figure out what to do about what he’d been feeling lately. What he was actually doing was trying to distract himself. That wasn’t like Raphael. So then he knew. Raphael knew what do. He’d have to let Simon know how he felt somehow.

With about an extra hour before the sun came up, Raphael settled into his bed and waited for Simon. He’d actually managed to doze off a bit but woke up a few moments before the sun rose. It wasn’t long until he heard his door open and close. Simon let out a yawn and Raphael allowed himself to smile before turning over to look at him. Simon looked shocked and embarrassed. Raphael made no facial expression but pulled the covers of his bed back in a silent invitation. Simon accepted it eagerly.

“You have nightmares? Of Camille?” Raphael had figured that was why Simon came to him. The faint stain of red around Simon’s eyes a telltale sign he’d been crying some days. He wanted to ask Simon about it sooner but then they’d have to acknowledge whatever it was they were doing.

“Yeah… Not anymore, though,” Simon answered.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Raphael knew that if Simon really wanted to talk about something, he would have. So obviously, he knew that if Simon didn’t talk about the nightmares, it’s because he didn’t want to. And Raphael wasn’t content with a version of Simon who didn’t feel comfortable and safe enough to talk about whatever he wanted.

“I didn’t think anyone would care,” Simon admitted.

“We’re more than a clan, Simon. We are family,” Raphael tried to assure him.

“Yeah, but after what Clary and I did-”

“You’re still upset about that? Why would you think anyone is still mad at you for that?” Honestly, Raphael hadn’t even considered the possibility of Simon still feeling guilty over that situation.

“C'mon, Rafa. You have to know that I didn’t refuse to release Camille because of some bond I have with the clan. I had only been a vampire for less than a week. I’ve known Clary almost my whole life. In the end, I was just too scared of Camille.”

“I know.” Of course Raphael knew that. Simon’s loyalty to Clary was unquestionable so he knew what made Simon stop Clary wasn’t the thought of betraying Raphael or the clan - it was his fear of Camille. “But Camille hurt you, she killed you. It’s understandable to be afraid of her, and this place. It doesn’t matter why-”

“Doesn’t it, though?” Simon interrupted him, his voice desperate.

“Not to me,” Raphael said impulsively. “I mean, the clan, all of us.” Raphael stopped himself, though, to reassess his thoughts. He wasn’t supposed to avoid or deny anything, so he said, “Cariño, I don’t think you have anything to apologize for, but I forgive you anyways.”

“You know, I know what that means, right? Cariño?” Simon asked, surprised Raphael addressed him by an affectionate name.

“I know,” Raphael didn’t know, not for certain. He’d never heard Simon speak Spanish before, so he could only assume. It seemed like his forwardness paid off, though, as Simon admitted he didn’t know much Spanish.

Raphael told Simon he could learn, to which Simon said, “You could teach me. And I could teach you Hebrew.”

“I could teach you Punjabi,” Raphael offered. He had to admit, Simon did watch quality shows every now and then.

“What? Why the hell do you know Punjabi?” Simon asked, baffled.

“It’s spoken by a hundred thirty million people. I’d like to know what they’re saying.” He hoped Simon got the reference. And of course he did. Raphael watched as Simon’s face morphed from confusion to delighted amusement.

“You watched Daredevil!” Simon exclaimed as he jovially pushed at Raphael’s shoulder. Raphael let himself fall back on the bed, Simon following his movements to hover above him. He noted offhandedly how the action made him feel safe, secure, and not crowded in on. Had it been anyone other than Simon, Raphael was sure he wouldn’t feel comfortable having them this physically close to him. “And all this time you’ve pretended to be nothing more than a grumpy old man who knows nothing about pop culture.”

“I do not pretend to not know anything. Believe it or not being head of a vampire clan doesn’t leave much time to watch as many superhero shows as you do.” Which was true, but Raphael had gone out of his way to take an interest in something Simon enjoyed.

“Hey, I’m Interim to the Chapter President and I still manage it,” Simon defended. Raphael immediately decided he liked having a shared interest with Simon. “Bet your favorite’s Matt.”

“He’s a very relatable character.”

“All that Catholic guilt is going to kill you one day.”

“But I’m already dead,” Raphael quipped. This was not something he did often - or with that many people - this back and forth. This banter. He’d only ever gotten comfortable enough to joke around with Magnus and Ragnor, but even then, it was different somehow. It wasn’t playful like this, with an edge of flirtation in Raphael’s voice, nor with this much touching. And he really liked that part.

“Do you actually know Punjabi?” Simon asked skeptically.

“No. I can’t believe you fell for that!” Raphael caved, unable to keep a straight face for long.

“Who are you and what have you done with Raphael Santiago? Seriously, since when do you make jokes?”

Their laughter quieted after a moment or two, staring deeply at each other like they had become so fond of recently. It was now or never, Raphael thought.

“Since now, I suppose,” Raphael said as he carefully pushed a strand of Simon’s hair off his forehead. He trailed his hand down Simon’s face, his thumb rubbing smooth circles on his cheek. He gulped reflexively, uncertainty plaguing him suddenly. “Deberías besarme. Do you understand that?” He all but blurted it out. It wasn’t a confession but he made his feelings clear.

“Yeah…” Simon said. He gently pressed himself down against the length of Raphael’s body, not an inch of space between them. It invoked that same security Raphael felt earlier and Raphael tilted his face up, meeting Simon’s lips with his own. The kiss, though soft and more exploratory than anything else, sent an electric current through Raphael, bringing to life emotions he hadn’t felt in so long. They weren’t emotions he missed but as soon as Simon made them resurface, he knew he didn’t want to live without them. He didn��t want to live without Simon.

Raphael then noticed a cool hand sliding underneath his shirt, but that only caused him to push Simon away by one of his shoulders. It wasn’t forceful but it was abrupt, leaving Simon a little bewildered.

“Sorry. Is everything okay?” Simon asked. “Maybe I should’ve asked or-”

“No. I mean, yes. I-”

“Woah, usually I’m the one that’s stuttering,” Simon said lightly. “Seriously, are you okay?”

“I-” Raphael thought about telling Simon he’s fine, because he was, but that wouldn’t be sufficient. Not that he owed Simon an explanation, but he did want to tell him anyways. “I don’t want to have sex.” Raphael mentally scolded himself. He usually had more tact than this. It was more than likely Simon had something to do with that.

“Oh, okay, that wasn’t really where I was going with that but sure. No rush, or anything.”

“No, Simon… I might not ever want to have sex. It’s not really something I have an interest in.”

“So… you’re asexual?” Simon asked as he got off of Raphael and kneeled beside him.

Raphael hummed his confirmation, sitting up against the headboard. “Aromatic as well-”

“But then…” Simon made a gesture between them as if to ask how they could be in bed together, kissing.

“I do get romantic feelings sometimes, Simon. But I also don’t get these feelings for just anyo- any guy. The only attraction I’ve felt is towards other men. I’m not ashamed of anything. I just don’t have these experiences often,” Raphael explained. “It takes a lot for me to get there, though. And well, you are kind of a lot.”

Simon laughed. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Anyways-”

“Rafa,” Simon interrupted, “why does it feel like you’re about to go into all your relationship history? You don’t have to explain anything.”

“I know. It’s just… after I pushed you away, I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea. I don’t want you to think I don’t want you, Simon. There’s nothing I want more.”

“How about this,” Simon began, holding up an index finger, “if there’s something either of us wants to do, we ask the other person. If the answer is ‘no’, we won’t do it. If the answer is ‘yes’, we do.”

“You say that as if it’s so simple.”

“It is.” Simon grinned at him. “So, puedo besarte otra vez?”

Raphael smirked back at Simon, making a note to tease him about that American accent another time. “Yes.”

Simon settled himself above of Raphael again and they resumed their kissing, but this time Simon obediently kept his hands on top of Raphael’s clothes. Raphael didn’t mind Simon touching him, not even before. It didn’t feel like Simon wanted anything from him. It just felt like Simon was appreciating the way he felt - as cheesy as that might sound. Raphael liked when Simon touched him, but he just wasn’t sure if he was ready, or even wanted, to do anything more than what they were already doing.

This didn’t feel like when Raphael discovered he was gay. Because in this case, Raphael lacked certain feelings. How did you explain a lack of attraction? Only one guy had ever reacted negatively, but it was enough to make Raphael worry about disclosing this information to anyone he had an interest in. He didn’t think Simon would be like that, but he was still surprised that it had gone so well. But then, Simon did always handle things with a smile on his face. How could Simon be so much of everything that Raphael wanted and needed? How could one person be so much of what Raphael loved? He didn’t have an answer for that, but Raphael definitely wasn’t complaining.

Raphael thought he was a pretty lucky guy.

———————————————————————-

This next day, Raphael was woken up by Simon tickling the back of his neck as Simon breathed him in. He didn’t even know he was still ticklish there.

“We don’t need to breathe, you know?” Raphael pointed out.

“But you smell so good.”

Simon hugged his arms tighter around Raphael, who made a show of grumbling more than he would so Simon would release him. It was only to get himself and Simon some blood of course. There was no way he’d deny Simon the opportunity to touch him, even if he wanted to. After some more coaxing, Simon finally released Raphael.

“I’ll be waiting in the kitchen,” Raphael said. He kissed Simon on the forehead, the action already so familiar to him.

“Yes, dear,” Simon teased.

Raphael did glare a bit at that, but he couldn’t be mad when Simon was grinning so wide at him. As he went about his routine, his mind drifted to the day before. When Simon touched him, it didn’t make him feel anxious. When Simon kissed him, it didn’t feel forced. Raphael knew he didn’t need to have the feelings he had now to make him feel whole, but if he was going to have them for someone, he was glad they were for Simon.

———————————————————————- Notes: Translations: No seas pendejo = Don’t be an asshole. Cariño = darling/sweetie Deberías besarme = You should kiss me. ; ) Puedo besarte otra vez? = Can I kiss you again?

So, that’s it! I hope I wrote aroace Raphael accurately. And I hope that I conveyed that Raphael didn’t “learn to love” or anything like that, because that’s not what this is supposed to be about. It’s about Raphael and what he does/doesn’t feel, and how he feels. So, like I said, I hope I conveyed all that accurately and respectfully.

I went back and forth a little with deciding if they were gonna have sex or not. I was ambiguous about it in Welcome Home, which I wrote way before 2x10. And I wrote this before 2x10 too so I had to rewrite some parts of this a few times but ultimately I’m happy with how it all turned out.

Also, I did not plan these two fics together so if the added scene throws things off a bit I apologize!