salvation sequel [rafe x barry]

cocaine jesus

"Love is a sacrament that should be taken kneeling"

It wasn't that Barry didn't expect it to be Rafe, when he heard the knock on his trailers door —there'd never been anyone besides the kook bothering him at that kinda hour— it's just that he didn't wanna hope for it. The feeling in his stomach when he did so anyways, for the few seconds it took to get to the door, made him wanna push a goddamn knife in and twist it, till his feelings for the boy spilled out with his guts.

„I thought I said you don't wanna be seen with me, bro", Barry said, leaning into the door frame and looking down on Rafe in front of it. The deja-vu that wasn't one —Rafe at his doorstep a million times
before— was painful in its familiarity.

„Then let me in before someone does", Rafe grinned up and for the millionth time, Barry stepped back and let him in. He turned to search for the bottle he'd left somewhere, proactively combatting the heart ache Rafe no doubt came here to cause.

But instead, he just leaned against one of the cabinets as Barry sat down on his bed. If there wasn't a shit ton of hair missing from the picture, it could've been like any other time before, Rafe sure tried to make it, casually asking: "So what's up"

Barry took a sip of bitter liquor to have an excuse to grimace. What's up? That's what they were back to?

"Not much, how bout you, Country Club?", he said calmly. Too tired, maybe, to lay himself bare in front of Rafe, or too kind, to rip him out of this play of nothing-ever-happened.

"Yeah, same", Rafe said and nodded and bit his lip and Barry felt only slight unease, relieved at least to see Rafes hands nervously knotted together in front of his shirt, not reaching for a gun that might or might not be there behind his back.

"What' you doing?", Rafe asked, after Barry offered no further reply to his empty answer, really asking the same question again, deepening Barry's concerns on what the fuck he was doing here.

"Drinking", he said shortly and raised the bottle just to demonstrate.

"Cool", Rafe said.

"Uh-huh", Barry nodded.

"Yeah"  

"So..?"  

„Let's fuck", Rafe suggested, shrugging his shoulders casually.

Barry's laugh was honest, his face bright with amusement and disbelief and he needed a while to calm down under Rafes cold stare.

"Bro, didn't you- didn't you literally give me a whole ass speech bout you're not gay and I basically-", he argued, gesturing with the bottle in his hand.

"I'm not", Rafe interrupted and Barry's mouth stayed open in a crooked smile. "Just did a line and got horny, alright, bro, and I thought why jerk myself off when you're fucking desperate for me anyways"

Barry chuckled sweetly, tilting his head to the side. "How come I'm the desperate one in this story, bro?"

But without Rafe needing to answer for it, if he had one even, Barry bend over to place the bottle on a cabinet, leaning back into his free hand and waving him closer with the other. It didn't need much more for Rafe to step close.

Only hinting at sexual intentions, Barry hooked his finger into a belt loop of Rafes pants, teasingly pulling him closer to the edge of the bed he sat on. The fingers of his right hand curled, he stroked over the fabric of his crotch, lightly feeling for his dick as he grinned up, watching Rafe bite his lips.