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Summary
The first time that Rafe had (what Sam would consider) a meltdown very close to the ones that Nate would have when he was a small child, it happened so quickly he could barely understand what was going on.
They had been working into the night, empty takeaway coffee cups littering the desk and the dim, amber, meandering glow of a desk light illuminating what they were reading. Sam’s hands stiff from holding a pencil all day, having spent the entire time scribbling things into a journal he kept clasped to him at all times. He stretched his fingers out and leaned back on the chair as he watched Rafe’s eyebrows draw down, and, oh. There it was.
The spoilt brat coming out to rear its ugly head.
{Five time that Rafe Adler's spoilt stuck up brat persona got him everything that he wanted from Sam with no questions asked, and a single time where it got both of them something a little different and perhaps a bit more pleasant.}