You’re tired after another mission, Linkon City sprawled across the edge of the galaxy, high rise buildings with glass exteriors, the streets alive at night, the constant hum of hovercrafts above. Your footsteps guide you through the city, away from the clamour of the streets, where Rafayel’s studio waits.

You don’t bother to knock, just gently unlocking the door with ease as you slip inside the studio you’ve become intimately acquainted with. The place is dim and quiet, beautiful as ever with the lights of the city spilling through the high windows, highlighting his unfinished paintings.

And yet the man is nowhere to be seen. You slip your boots off, making your way bare footed, your uniform snug and uncomfortable as you approach his bedroom, gently pushing the door open.

Rafayel’s bedroom is beautiful, a large king sized bed with gold furnishings, marble statues, a glass ceiling that allows the stars to be seen glimmering in the midnight blue sky. There are easels around with half finished paintings, books in piles, a beautiful mess, much like Rafayel himself. And there he is, sitting on the large bed, shirtless. And bound... by ribbons.

“You’re back,” Rafayel mutters as he looks up, his colourful eyes on you. You wet your lips slowly, stepping forward.

“Rafa? What… is this?” you murmur slowly as you make your way to him.

“A present,” Rafayel mutters as he swallows and you catch the movement of his throat as he slowly lays back. The blankets are made of the finest silk, cold against his skin from having no body heat to warm them the past few days.

“For coming back safely,” Rafayel mutters, looking up at you from under his dark lashes, those eyes on you, his plush lips parted, his dusky purple hair fanned under him. You're on him in seconds. His wrists are slim, bound by deep blue ribbons, almost bird-like, easily held and pinned in your grip. A reminder that for all his height and his slender build, the lean muscles you can feel under you easily bends to your will.

"Unwrap me?" Rafayel breathes out.