salvation sequel [rafe x barry]

same old shit

"But god, I look at you and know.
Hell is just another place I guess
I'll go
to keep you warm."

As the days passed, Rafes bruise faded and Barry and Rafe got to see each other less. Their business deals got spearer and reached further into the state, trying to find gold dealers they hadn't hit before to avoid any kind of suspicion on the amount they had.

On the other side, the first real, legal money was coming out of Cameron Development. They laundered half of it, and hid the rest in cash just in case.

When Rafe was feeling gracious, and only half pissed about Barry insisting to drive due to his terrible driving skills (under the influence, anyways) he was down for road head on their trips. Sometimes Barry returned the favor in the parking lot in front of their deal.

If Rafe wasn't in such a giving mood, Barry fucked him on the backseat or invited him back to his trailer for a line. It got easier, to stick to benefits as time passed. Got easier to resist resting on top of each other after the exhausting act or touch places no one else ever touched, the redundant kind that put a smile on your lips not enterily for the ridiculousness of a hand around your ankle, or circles drawn on the side of your thigh, or fingers resting below your elbow ever so calmly, touch that didn't overstep anything and everything at once.

Once, after Barry nuzzled his face into the crook of Rafes neck, smelling sweet women's perfume on his warm skin, and he'd turned his head the other way before fucking him anyways, he went to the local churches AA meeting after, although whole damn five of his former clients talking about their ruined lives didn't exactly fix the Rafe addiction, or brighten his mood, at that.

Seeing him less helped, although every thought spent away from Rafe was still that: Rafe, despite his serious effort to built a new life that didn't center around the kook. He even put in an offer for the small garage in town, thought he'd do good working again, owning his own workshop a dream he'd had since loosing his virginity in one, altough that dream had still included the ridiculous idea of a husband by his side. Back then, even that tiniest of dreams had seemed unreachable, for a guy from the cut.

Rafe tried learning to live with it. Being alone, for the first time in his life, truly alone now and with no one to depend on.

He used Sofia so he didn't have to be alone and at bad nights, it was good to have the girl sleeping in his bed even when he couldn't, kept him from doing anything too stupid or reaching for a gun when he'd had one too many drinks.

Sometimes he hung out with friends, sometimes he hosted parties or went to others, but things had changed. Not since the murder and none of that, rather since he ran his own company, and the careless attitude the rest of kooks carried around, relying on their parents money through everything they did seemed childish, and a role Rafe couldn't push himself into if he tried, anymore.

He'd been there, been that guy and enjoyed the kook life, enjoyed not working, not caring, not giving a fuck. It was easy, and it was fun.

But he was no longer a rich kid, he had a company to get to in the mornings, he had employees and staff to manage, had business partners to meet at the island club instead of just going there to drink and hang out, had appearances to make and hands to shake. And it got harder every day, to attempt to still fit in with the rest of rich kids, because he sure as hell didn't fit in with his equals either, men like his father and the parents of his friends.

Still, the responsibility of the company did him good and he grew more and more into it.

He'd seemed to scare Ward enough to actually get him to back off. He didn't even call a single time, to bother Rafe about the company, or any other thing.