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“Do you need to be somewhere tonight?”
Rome startles. At this point, there’s no way to expose himself in front of Raffy more than he already did, but he would still prefer to keep this stupid little smile out of Raffy’s sight. But oh well.
“Huh?”
And now he finds Raffy looking at him in a way that doesn’t allow him to interpret the question as a request to leave.
“Let me buy you a drink.”
Ever since he came to listen to him playing live, Raffy keeps giving him that look. He doesn’t roll his eyes, doesn’t shrug dismissively, no more unamused boredom on his face. He looks him straight in the eyes. Like he’s telling him something.
And partially, Rome gets it. Raffy’s current mood is the exact kind that makes him seek out Rome’s company. He has this openness he usually shows only when they’re trading wits between hungry kisses. But he clearly doesn’t have any intentions to fuck Rome in the bar’s bathroom tonight, and that is new.
And weird, considering what he said the last time they had an unfortunate conversation about their thing.
Rome huffs a soft chuckle.
“Don’t bother—”
“But I would like to. Stay, let me buy you a drink.”
Rome couldn’t hide his suspiciousness even if he tried, probably. But he nods and shifts just a little closer on his stool. That earns him a small, relieved smile.
“Old-fashioned if I recall correctly? Or was it neat?”
Rome blinks a few times.
“Recall?...”
There’s still clear tiredness close to exhaustion on him, but he sounds almost playful.
Raffy shrugs before answering.
“Your drink looked similar every time I saw you having one.”
Now Rome has even more questions. But he just nods, “Old-fashioned.”
Raffy smiles at his glass and, after a moment, signals to a bartender. It’s such a lovely smile, and Rome is so confused.
It’s not just new, it’s... unnecessary, for lack of a better word. Raffy knows very well he doesn’t need to play nice to get Rome’s attention. Not his proudest moment, sure, but Rome was never afraid of getting hurt, and hurt he gets, repeatedly, but he wouldn’t respect himself otherwise. He’s not a coward.
And Raffy is still Raffy, but different and without any reason. And Rome is not a coward, but neither is he stupid, so he would prefer to be safe than to create another disaster. And there’s only so much loss he can take if he’s being honest.
After Rome’s second sip, Raffy says, “Everyone probably thinks I want to sabotage the whole play at this point.”
“Do you?”
“And what would I get out of it?”
Rome shrugs. “Moral satisfaction?”
Raffy huffs, amused, “I wish. Wouldn’t it be nice?”
There’s a pause. Then Rome asks, “Are you going to join some other project?”
“What’s the point?”
And he looks so detached Rome doesn’t even want to say anything about lucky nepo babies with their future careers secured by their mommies. Maybe it’s really not just defiance with the Romeo play, maybe Raffy really lost his passion completely.
The idea was so ugly Rome almost felt physically sick. As if he didn’t feel sorry for Raffy enough.
He doesn’t even want to think about how it might feel.
So he just takes another sip. Raffy probably doesn’t need him to answer. And Rome probably should stop his attempts to understand what Raffy wants. In general and from Rome in particular. Maybe this time he should just actually listen to what Raffy is saying and stay out of his business.
Because no matter how much Rome aches for him, he can’t help Raffy in any meaningful way. Raffy didn’t listen to him once; Raffy doesn’t want his help. Raffy wants a distraction. And it was cool for a while, but lately Rome feels like he’s losing blood.
There’s no point in trying to make sense of a missed call, soft smiles, open looks, and a shared meal.
Raffy made himself clear that night. With or without Jack, Rome was never even an option.
After looking at his empty glass for a few seconds, Raffy says, “I don’t want to go home.” And the look he gives Rome is almost pleading.
And Rome can’t help himself. He can’t really get mad at him right now. All he can do is try to convince himself he’s not too hurt by all of that. And there are some selfish reasons, too. He’ll survive.
He nods.
***
Do you get it?
Almost unconsciously, he pulls Rome’s hand closer the moment his fingers wrap around Raffy’s thumb.
“Can I crash here tonight?” he asks softly, his voice is more absent than it is weak, and he hopes it’s a good thing.
He needs to sound genuine because he is. Rome was always terrifyingly good at seeing through him, but knowing Raffy’s luck, there’s a chance he will get something wrong this time.
Or Rome will simply decide Raffy isn’t worth the effort.
“Sure.”
Raffy doesn’t want any more wrongs. The only thing he really wants now is to stay exactly where he is. To have both of Rome’s hands in his palm, pressed to his chest.
No, but do you get it?
He’s tired, and his head is frustratingly empty, but he needs Rome to understand, he can’t leave him out of his sight before he’s absolutely sure Rome understands.
Never in his life had Raffy been this considerate and careful with his words. And maybe that’s the reason he struggles to say anything at all right now. Feeling like he’s not allowed to have something is also a brand new thing. It appears as this uncomfortable awareness of something, and no matter how hard he tries to ignore it, he can’t stop it from affecting his actions.
But his desire to nuzzle into Rome’s shoulder is stronger, and Raffy goes for it before his new doubts catch him. It’s a small comfort. That, he can afford.
All his life Raffy lived in the position where deserving or not deserving never mattered when it came to getting what he wanted, one of the little courtesies of being a shadow of The Powerful. But he can feel the weight of both of them now. He’s going to take what was offered to him eagerly; however, being content with what he gets without craving more is not something he thinks can be done. Even though he doesn’t know what it is he wants exactly.
He’s a well-experienced pretender and far too good of a liar to remember what sincerity is supposed to look like. That’s the problem now.
Do you get it?
“Wanna take a shower? I’ll lend you some clothes,” says Rome, and he sounds so, so sad that it bothers Raffy for some reason.
Maybe he needs to tighten his grip on Rome’s hands. Put his arms around his shoulders. He’s been thinking about saying something nice for quite some time now, but there’s a chance Rome would think Raffy just lost his mind. Or worse, trying to get something from him.
But maybe he does. No, really. Does he?
Raffy doesn’t know what he should do right now, and since he can’t afford to do something wrong, he does nothing. He stays as he is. Keeps stroking Rome’s arm with his thumb.
“Mm.”
Then Rome stands up, and Raffy almost reaches for him to pull him back. That would have been ridiculous. He won’t go anywhere. It’s his house.
The shower might have helped with the weight of the day but still is powerless against the uneasiness. He stands in front of the mirror and refuses to look at himself longer than necessary. A few drops of water escape his still wet hair and run down his shoulders while he is standing with Rome’s T-shirt in his hands as if expecting advice or guidance.
Rome should be grinning and annoying, and way too sure of himself, he should be pissing Raffy the fuck off to the point of making Raffy forget about everything except the possible ways to one-up him somehow, to get him out of his smarty pants. The fucker is excellent at this, for better or for worse. Hell, even an angry Rome, Raffy can deal with. How to talk to a sad Rome he has no idea.
Raffy didn’t do anything (thanks to you, I couldn’t even if I wanted to, remember?), Raffy didn’t talk to Jack. And he saw Rome smiling at an ignored call. Rome is fucking smart, he must understand what it is Raffy isn’t saying.
The last time Raffy was saying something didn’t end particularly well.
Rome’s clothes on, he goes back to the room and sits on the bed. He’s watching Rome disappear in the bathroom. He doesn’t really want to move, so he doesn’t.
Rome comes back from the bathroom still drying his hair with a towel. He looks softer, and Raffy doesn’t like the way it makes him feel all of a sudden. Even if he should have seen it coming.
Rome sits on the opposite side of the bed, he’s checking something on his phone. His back is facing Raffy, and something about it makes Raffy act before he can think; the next thing he knows, his arms are wrapped around Rome, his chest presses to Rome’s back, and his chin is on Rome’s shoulder. He even manages not to hide his eyes from him. And he’s glad he doesn’t because now he can see the surprise on Rome’s face. He looks adorably silly with his mouth half-open and eyes slowly blinking, and Raffy can’t help but smile a little. He would probably giggle if he weren’t that nervous.
“What’s with you?” Rome asks with a little frown but doesn’t try to free himself, just slowly puts his phone on the bedstand.
Good question.
Raffy presses his cheek to where Rome’s neck connects to his shoulder. “Why, do you mind?” he asks, softer than intended, but Rome still hears him.
“Not exa—”
“Good.”
Holding him a little tighter, Raffy pulls him down, making them both fall to lie on their sides. He shifts closer and lifts one of his hands to rest on Rome’s chest. He doesn’t even try to suppress a soft content sigh.
It is very still for a moment, and then Raffy feels Rome’s fingers wrapping around his wrists. A thumb caressing the back of his hand.
Then Rome speaks with a smile in his voice: “So are you going to?...”
“Hold you like that all night, yes. That’s the plan.”
In response, there’s a soft chuckle; he feels it under his fingers on Rome’s chest, and it makes Raffy nuzzle into his neck, breathe him in. The movement earns him a full body shiver and a surprised, open-mouthed inhale.
Raffy smiles into his skin, “What, are you ticklish?”
Maybe “ticklish” is not exactly the right word. Raffy does know what kind of music his mouth on Rome’s neck can bring out. The thought is so, so tempting if only not for the risk of his actions being misinterpreted.
“I’m not answering that.”
And now it’s Raffy’s turn to chuckle. He hopes he has a drop of good luck left as he leans a little forward to leave a feather-light kiss behind Rome’s ear.
“Good night.”
You better figure it out quickly.