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Rafe-
The first thing Rafe did when he returned to the OBX was pay a visit to a familiar trailer. He desperately needed a shower but that could wait. Nothing felt more important than getting to Barry. Seeing him, touching him, knowing he was still there, right where he left him.
Rafe had a lot of time to think on the journey back across the ocean. He usually avoided thinking as nothing good ever seemed to come from spending too much time in his own head. He didn’t have much of a choice. The pogues were quiet and kept away from him. No doubt still in shock and utterly exhausted from everything that went down. Rafe still can’t believe it himself. He is no stranger to death, but something about the aftermath of JJ’s death hit him hard. Witnessing Sarah and everyone else experience that loss in real time broke something in him. Maybe for the better.
For as long as Rafe could remember, he sought approval from his father. As he got older, it was clear Ward’s approval was fleeting and his love conditional. Rafe didn’t stop trying though, he couldn’t. The bits of affection and love that were given felt so good he actually convinced himself his father cared. He didn’t though, not really. Ward only cared, only insisted he loved Rafe when he needed him to obey.
Rafe spent years living solely for the good times when Ward was pleased with him and his family felt like a real family. Then he met Barry. He was drawn to the dealer immediately. He liked that Barry seemed unbothered by everything around him. He liked the way Barry looked at him and called him “Country Club”. Liked the way Barry’s hand held his even if just for a second when they greeted each other. God Barry confused him. Rafe had been with a few girls but none of them ever got close to making him feel what Barry could make him feel with one look.
There were times a few years ago when Rafe was high on coke or weed, likely both, and let his softness toward Barry slip through. He recalls one evening Barry let him snort his line at the trailer and hang out because a storm was brewing. Barry had listened to him bitch about Ward and Sarah, the pogues, Rose’s drinking problem, and god knows what else. Rafe didn’t know if Barry was really listening, but Rafe’s legs were resting over Barry’s lap and his thumb was rubbing gently on the skin above Rafe’s ankle. Nothing else really mattered.
Then there was the night Rafe had come to the trailer after he nearly drowned Sarah. That was one of the worst days of his life. Barry opened the door, took one look at Rafe, and let him in. His body was sore from getting smacked around by both his dad and Topper that day. His lip busted and face bruised. He didn’t even notice that he was shaking until Barry took both his quivering hands in his own and asked what had happened. Rafe cried so much that night. He was too exhausted to care that he was being a little bitch in front of Barry. Oh well, it wasn’t the first time he had cried in front of the older man and wasn’t the last. Rafe had slept on the couch that night. He had tried to leave, thinking he overstayed his welcome by just showing up in the first place, but Barry didn’t let him. “It ain’t a big deal, man,” Barry had said when Rafe tried protesting the invitation to stay. “You good,” he said, giving Rafe’s knee a squeeze before getting up from the couch. Rafe drifted off to sleep thinking maybe Barry was soft on him too.
Rafe thought about Barry the whole way back to Kildare. Missed him so badly it was a physical ache. That’s why Rafe stopped by Tanneyhill to get his bike and took off to the cut, a route so ingrained in his memory he could drive it in his sleep.
Barry-
He heard a motor roar up to the front of his trailer. He wasn’t expecting anyone but knows who it is the second he sees the flash of red. Rafe’s bike. Rafe.
He knew he was overseas somewhere but had no idea why or for how long. It had been almost a month since he traded his precious Debbie Ann for Rafe’s Aviara. Well must not have been too precious because he folded like a fucking lawn chair with little pleading on the Kook’s part. God he was easy. Guess Rafe is more precious than some boat, and hadn’t Barry realized that already?
He looked bad. Well no, he looked perfect as always, but he looked worn in a way Barry hadn’t seen him look in years. “You bring my boat back, Country Club?” he says as he walks across his yard toward Rafe. “Barry, I uhh…” Rafe says. Blue eyes shattered.
He remembers Rafe coming to the trailer at night many times with that same look. Barry found it hard to resist comforting Rafe. He realized he had feelings for him the second he smiled at Barry. Eyes wide and glossy, smug chuckle as Barry gave in to whatever he asked of him. Damn kook.
Barry wasn’t always successful at hiding how he really felt about Rafe. The morning Rafe woke up on his couch to a text from Ward saying the cops were after him. Rafe slammed his phone down, alerting Barry to his distress. Rafe said he needed a minute so he gave him that. When a minute became ten, he got worried. He found Rafe sitting on the edge of the tub in the tiny bathroom, head in his hands. Rafe abruptly stood when Barry came into the room. “Uh sorry, man, I just, I’m fucked,” was all Rafe could get out before breaking down in tears. He didn’t hesitate, he pulled Rafe into a hug and rubbed his back as he cried into his neck. Holding Rafe like that felt so good. Barry had wanted to do it every time Rafe showed up at his door.
That memory comes flooding back now looking into Rafe’s eyes. Once again, he doesn’t hesitate. “Shit c’mere, man,” he says as he hugs Rafe. Barry is relieved when Rafe melts into him. “I’m glad you’re alright” he says in a low voice right at Rafe’s ear. He swears Rafe squeezes him a little tighter. When they separate, Barry notices that Rafe’s hand is bandaged. “Aye come in, man, we need to clean this shit,” he says, grabbing Rafe’s wrist to get a better look.
Rafe-
Barry tells him to shower and lays out some clothes on the toilet seat lid. Being inside the trailer brings back so many memories. It’s been almost two years since Rafe has been inside and the nostalgia is making his head spin. One memory in particular plays in Rafe’s head as he dries off and dresses in Barry’s clothes.
It was the night after they met at Rockfish Bar to discuss the cross. Barry had said it was best for them not to be seen together so Rafe waited until late at night to pay Barry a visit. He went under the guise of further discussing their plans but he really just wanted to spend more time with Barry. It had been a long time since Barry betrayed him and the Cameron family fucked off to Guadalupe. Rafe has long since forgiven him because he understood. Why would Barry risk going down for him? It’s not like he cared about him or anything. There were times when he thought maybe Barry did care and they were more like friends than dealer and junkie. But no, Rafe had been wrong, Barry’s betrayal had proven that. He should’ve known better than to overestimate how much someone cares for him.
The two had sat on the ratty old couch for hours talking about their plan to steal and replace the cross. Rafe was so glad Barry agreed to help, he didn’t even care that he had demanded a 50/50 split. “I know I already said it, man, but you turning me in to the cops makes it next to impossible for them to suspect you, you know. Kinda makes it worth it, huh?” he said in jest. He wanted Barry to know that while he did forgive him, he hasn’t forgotten.
Barry shifted his weight forward so his face was level with Rafe’s when he said, “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t wanna hurt you, Country Club, I just thought it was best. For both of us.” Rafe was stunned. He wasn’t expecting an actual apology. “Oh, uh yeah, it’s-it’s all good, we’re good,” he said. He knows he’s blushing from Barry’s close proximity, not to mention the words coming out of his mouth. “I want us to be good,” Barry says. Rafe surprises himself by wrapping Barry in a hug. Judging by the rigid set of Barry’s shoulders, he is surprised too. “We are, I promise,” Rafe whispers. When he breaks away from the embrace, Barry’s hand comes up to cup his jaw. “I ain’t have no intentions of pulling anything like that on you again, Rafe.” Then his hand drops and that’s that. They never talk about it again.
Barry-
He was able to find some large bandaids and peroxide in his closet. Rafe sits beside him on the couch with his hand out, palm facing upward. He has a large gash that thankfully doesn’t look infected. Barry is gentle as he cleans the cut and applies the bandaid. The fact that Rafe is sitting so close their legs are touching is not lost on him. “So why’d you come? I mean, I’m happy to see you, don’t get me wrong, bro, but did you come straight from the dock?” he asks. Their boat swap is really the only thing tying the two together at this point. Well Barry’s fucking heart ties him to Rafe, but Rafe doesn’t know that.
Rafe smiles and nods, “Yeah, I did actually…you’re happy to see me?” Is he serious? Of course he is happy to see him. Barry decides to tell him just that. What’s he got to lose really, Rafe not coming around for months on end? He’s already lived that. “Of course I am.” Rafe doesn’t respond. He’s gnawing on the skin of his thumb, leg bouncing up and down. “What is it, man?” Barry asks.
When Rafe still doesn’t answer, Barry yanks his hand away from his mouth, impatience getting the best of him. “C’mon, man. Just tell me whatever it is.” He watches as Rafe takes a deep breath. Bracing himself for the news that Rafe has killed again or has the cops trailing him and it’s only a matter of time before they show up to his trailer. He was ready to hear that and could handle any of that. He was not ready for what actually came out of Rafe’s mouth. And he certainly couldn’t handle it.
“I have…shit, man. I have feelings for you, okay.”
Barry lets out an involuntary chuckle, “bro, what?”
Rafe must’ve taken his laugh the wrong way because he’s shooting Barry a glare that could kill. “You heard me. I’m not saying it again.” He scoots closer, grabbing Rafe’s chin so he’s forced to meet his eyes. “Nah, I’m actually going to need ya to repeat that f’me, Country Club,” Barry says, inches from Rafe’s face.
Rafe is silent but he doesn’t break eye contact. His thumb is now gently swiping back and forth along Rafe’s jaw. Rafe is so pretty, what is he supposed to do? Not touch him?
“I uh-I have feelings for you. Like I want-I want…” Rafe offers at last. He doesn’t let him finish the sentence. He leans forward and connects his lips to Rafe’s softly, hesitantly, like he isn’t convinced Rafe meant what he just said. Rafe kisses him back and for a moment there is nothing but bliss.
When he pulls back Rafe is smiling and there is a sharp twist in his gut. Barry wants Rafe too, of course he does. But having Rafe inevitably means losing him and losing Rafe is not something he can come back from. Not again.
Rafe-
So does this mean Barry feels the same way? Part of him feels validated. He wasn’t crazy for thinking there was something there after all.
“Look I don’t know if I can do this, Rafe,” Barry is saying, not meeting his eyes. Then why the hell did he kiss him then? Rafe had felt butterflies the second their lips touched. His whole body tingled and his mind seemed to shout fucking finally. Had Barry felt nothing?
A little embarrassed and a lot hurt, Rafe replies, “Oh uh, you don’t feel the same? That’s-that’s okay, man, I…”
Barry looks him in the eyes now. “That is the exact opposite of what I mean.” Rafe opens his mouth to respond but realizes he has no idea what to say. He shuts it again. “You known for changin’ your mind, Country Club,” Barry explains. “I can’t be with you, like this,” he motions to the small space separating them, “just for you to realize it’s not what you want, that I’m not what you want, okay?”
He literally just said, twice, that he has feelings for and wants Barry. He knows he is impulsive and changes his mind a lot but this is different. He’s felt something for Barry pretty much as long as he’s known him. Only recently was he able to fully come to terms with it and muster up the courage to do something about it. Barry doesn’t need to worry about him changing his mind. He won’t.
“My mind isn’t going to change on this. I’ve wanted this for-for years, man,” he says, willing Barry to believe him.
“Fuck, Country Club.” And then Barry’s mouth is on his again.
Barry-
Kissing Rafe feels better than he could’ve imagined. He wishes he could stop thinking how bad it’s going to hurt when this blows up in his face. Rafe is saying all the right things and Barry wants so badly to believe him.
“I swear, Barry,” Rafe is saying, trailing kisses down his neck, seemingly reading his mind. “I guess I’ll let you prove it to me, baby boy,” he says, pulling Rafe to straddle his lap.
A low growl escapes Rafe’s mouth and his hips buck forward to meet his own. Rafe is taller and lankier but manages to fit against him perfectly. Like he was made to sit right there in Barry’s lap. Shit maybe he was.
His hands travel from Rafe’s upper thighs to his waist, underneath his shirt. “You’re so perfect, baby,” he whispers against Rafe’s lips before he can stop himself. Looks like the thoughts he has regarding the kook are a lot fucking harder to keep in when Rafe is grinding himself against his hardening cock.
Rafe pulls back to look at him, “Baby, huh? Not baby boy?” Barry hopes to god he hasn’t already ruined this but Rafe is smiling and looking at him with so much tenderness he nearly has to turn away. “Is that okay?” he asks.
“Yeah…” Rafe leans in to kiss him. “Yeah, it’s okay.”
As much as he would love to keep going, he knows they should stop. They have a lot to talk about and judging by the way Rafe is kissing him, he won’t be the one to slow it down. Why do I always have to be the one with self-control, he thinks. “Hey, man, hey..,” Barry says, placing his hands on either side of Rafe’s face to get his attention. “Hi,” Rafe says with a smile, chest heaving and lips swollen from their rough makeout session. Barry’s pretty sure he’s ruined for life now that he’s seen Rafe like this. Like this for him.
“We should slow down, yeah? You need t’a rest and we got some talkin’ to do, don’t you think?” Rafe rolls his eyes and moves off his lap to sit beside him on the couch.
“I mean I guess, man, if you don’t wanna fuck me…” Rafe says with an exaggerated shrug. It’s Barry’s turn to roll his eyes. “Jesus, Rafe, the conclusions you jumpin’ to tonight couldn’t be further off, bro.” Rafe looks up at him then. “I just want to give you time, aight. You just got back from what I’m sure was a hell of a trip. Let’s chill tonight and we can revisit the fuckin’ later,” he says. “Like tomorrow?” Rafe asks. Damn maybe, Barry thinks, but instead says, “we’ll see, Country Club.”
Rafe-
Barry listens intently as he recounts the nightmare that was Morocco and Lisbon. His legs ended up resting over Barry’s lap and he wonders if the other man remembers the last time they sat like this on this very couch. It’s not like that’s a normal thing to do with a friend. “Do you remember when you had me lift up my legs so you could sit down then you pulled them back down on your lap before I could sit up?” he asks.
Barry smirks, “Yeah, man, I remember. Thought I could get away with it since we was both high…and I did.” Realization hits Rafe square in the chest. That was years ago. “You liked me then? Like more than a friend?”
“Bro, you stupid,” Barry says, shaking his head. “That doesn’t answer my question,” he deadpans. “Yes, Rafe, I liked ya as more than a friend. Shit I tried not to because you was insufferable, but I liked ya anyways. How was it not obvious, bro?”
He supposes it was obvious looking back. “I don’t know. I guess I never thought it could be mutual…damn, man, we wasted so much time.” He suddenly feels a deep sadness. He had spent years yearning for genuine affection when he could’ve had everything he needed in the man in front of him.
“You had that girl and everything, bro, whatchu mean?” Barry asks, shyly. He snorts. “Like I said man, wasted time.”
Barry smiles, “C’mere, Country Club.” He sits up and swings his legs to the opposite side of the couch so he can lay against Barry. The pang of regret is still there but it’s hard to be truly upset when Barry is wrapping his arms around him. “We here now, ain't we?” Barry asks, kissing his temple. Rafe lets out a big exhale. “Yeah, we’re here now.”
“Hey, Barry,” he says after a few moments. He hears Barry grunt in acknowledgement by his ear. “I didn’t bring your boat back, man.” Barry laughs. “You lucky I don’t give a shit about that right now, Rafe.” He smiles and relaxes against Barry once more. Content to let himself finally get some much needed rest.