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Aint no rest for the wicked

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It had started with the oldest vampire in the clan.

He, and most of the others, insisted his name was Ezio. Simon was convinced they had seen his Assassin’s Creed shirt and were fucking with him, there was no way his name was really Ezio. But, he had nothing else to call him, and he hated the idea of calling him out when it was very possible that washis real name.

So, it had started with Ezio.

Simon trusted Luke. Trusted him with his life, really, werewolf or not. The rest of the pack? Not so much. The rest of the pack growled and snarled whenever he was near them. They were always tensed up, ready to jump at him to attack. Usually, Simon could keep his cool when Luke was there. The familiar man’s presence was enough to convince him that he was safe. He was their alpha, if he said not to kill someone they would listen.

It was when Luke wasn’t there that Simon started to panic.

Simon had sort of become the second in command. So, while Raphael was off dealing with business regarding the Boston Clan, it was Simon who was sent to deal with the werewolves when they demanded an audience. Ezio came with him, refusing to allow any of the clan, let along the fledgling, go by himself to a building filled with rabid dogs.

Simon swallowed thickly as he and Ezio entered the warehouse - and who the hell decides to meet up in an abandoned warehouse? What kind of Saw bullshit was this? - where they were supposed to be meeting with the wolves. He tried to keep his shoulders squared, head held high. But he just couldn’t. It was too hard to do when he could hear them all growling under their breaths at him.

Ezio rested a hand on Simon’s shoulder, guided him forward without ever leaving his side. It was comforting, really, to have him there.

“Where’s the leader, blood sucker?” One of the wolves snarled out, and Simon couldn’t help but feel like they were all closing in on him.

“Our clan leader is otherwise occupied.” Ezio announced, calm and collected with his hand still on Simon’s shoulder. “You are in audience with the leader’s right hand man. “

Simon managed a smile, waving awkwardly. The growling didn’t stop, but it suddenly felt less like he was being threatened. He was able to stand a little taller, able to speak without stuttering. All because  he had just one person there for backup.

And after that, it was all of them. Simon was never anywhere alone, never left the hotel without at least two others with him. He was asked at least three times a day if he had fed, yet. He was always placed between or behind his companions when they went anywhere.

And Raphael? Raphael didn’t let anyone near him.

If one of the vampires touched Simon, they’d get a sharp hiss from the clan leader. If anyone spent too much time with him, Raphael would suddenly have something trivial and meaningless for them to do. He followed the fledgling every time he left the hotel, made sure he was always safe.

He would insist it was because he had promised to look after Simon. He was a man of his word, after all. It had been a promise to a Shadowhunter, but a promise nonetheless. Besides, it was at least partially his fault Simon was stuck in this life, anyway.

The clan knew the excuses were bullshit.

Apparently, Vampires celebrated when a clan appointed a new leader.

And apparently, Vampire parties were on par with the parties Magnus threw.

The DuMort was insane, flashing lights and loud music. Vampires dancing on poles that Simon knew for a fact where not there yesterday. A variety of spiked blood cocktails, things Simon didn’t even know existed.

A throne, a literal throne, was up on a platform. Simon gaped at it, not quite comprehending the fact that they had set out an actual throne. Raphael had that smug little smirk on his face, lounged on the throne with a few vampires from different clans practically hanging off of him. Another clan leader, one born from royalty in the thirteen-hundreds, had gone so far as to place a crown on Raphael’s head. As excessive as it was, Simon couldn’t deny the look suited him.

Simon wasn’t used to having a lot of attention on him. Sure, people were staring when his band played, but he wasn’t usually grabbing people’s attention because of his looks. But, there were vampires on either side of him, a blonde girl from the Boston clan and a dark skinned man from the clan in Salem, dancing against him. Simon felt awkward, but he was certainly enjoying himself. It felt nice to have someone interested in him, someone wanting to be near him.

He felt the girl - Leah, if he remembered correctly - trail a finger down over his jaw and his head tilted as if by instinct. His eyes flicked briefly to Raphael, though he couldn’t really think of why, only to notice that the clan leader was staring right at him. He snapped his attention back to the two dancing with him, trying to ignore the fact that his heart would be racing if it could.

Hands landed on his hips and Leah leaned into him with her own hands on his shoulders. She was leaning into him - looking like she was going for a kiss - when the room went silent.

Simon squirmed a bit to turn and look around, just like everyone else, and he saw that Raphael had stood. Raphael kept his gaze locked on to him, stepping down off the platform slowly. Simon felt his breath catch - and why was he still breathing, anyway? Would he ever get over that habit? - as the two vampires stepped away from him slightly.

“The fledgling is claimed.” Raphael announced, voice firm.

Simon was positive the world stopped. Raphael had just…claimed him? Since when was he something to be claimed? And why did the fact not bother him at all? His brain was racing, reeling to try and process the information as Raphael slowly walked toward him. He swallowed, managing to choke out a noise that might have been a ‘hey’ when Raphael stopped in front of him. Raphael’s face softened a bit, and he examined Simon.

“…If you want, at least.” He told him, voice quiet. Simon didn’t answer for a long moment.

Then, he lifted his hands to grab for Raphael’s face, pulling him close and crashing their lips together. It was rushed, desperate in a way Simon hadn’t quite intended on. He felt Raphael grip at his shirt - a new, silky shirt in a deep blue color - to pull him as close as possible. Raphael’s head tilted, deepening the kiss.

“My room.” He managed to breathe out, lips not really leaving Simon’s.

Simon nodded dumbly, stumbling after Raphael as he was lead out of the ballroom.  The whole situation was still trying to process in his head. Sure, he had known pretty much since the beginning that he found Raphael attractive. And the longer he was there, the more he got to know him, the more he realized how much he genuinely liked him. But he had never really expected that the older vampire would return the sentiment.

Simon was pushed up against Raphael’s bedroom door almost before it closed, and he instantly wrapped his arms around Raphael’s waist to tug him closer. The kiss was more tongue and teeth than lip, and he could feel soft groaned vibrating from deep in Raphael’s throat. Simon pushed forward, guiding them toward the bed until he could push Raphael down onto it and crawl over him.

It was a blur of movement in Simon’s memory, the two of them rolling over each other as they tore clothing off, laughing breathlessly. Simon could remember stopping Raphael before he threw off that crown, pinning his hands above his head instead as he leaned down to kiss and suck at his neck.

Raphael was loud, making sure Simon knew exactly how pleased he was as he was fingered open carefully, head thrown back as much as he could get it with the crown still on his head. He clinged to Simon as the fledgling fucked into him, keening and gasping out Spanish swears. Simon murmured out a steady stream of encouragments, telling Raphael how amazing he was and how good it felt.

When they both came down from the post coital high however long later it was, Simon rolled onto his side to cuddle into Raphael’s chest. He felt gentle hands in his hair, and he hesitantly pressed a gentle kiss over Raphael’s heart.

“The crown looks good on you.” He said. Raphael chuckled.

“Glad you like it. It’s probably was gave me the balls to do this.” He admitted, voice soft. Simon smiled, nuzzling into Raphael’s chest.

“Little possessive, aren’t you?” He mumbled teasingly.

“Protective. I’m protective.” Raphael’s tone was a little indignant, as if offended by the accusation. Simon just smiled a little wider.