#samrafe

"Darling?" Rafe called, it wasn't 'till he put a hand on Sam's cheek did he realise he was calling him, "Are you alright? You look tired." The warmth of Rafe's hand on his cheek made him wake up immediately, "Mm, yes, well-" he took Rafe's hand and pressed it to his lips, "Just a bit tired from last night, but nothing you should worry about." The woman flushed, and chuckled. Even her laugh was posh. "If you're feeling unwell Mr. Drake, you should sit down. I should go find my husband. Excuse me."

Sam sighed watching the lady finally leave and turned around and saw Rafe unamused, "Really, Samuel?" He raised a brow and took his hand back, "You know if you really wanted to leave you could just make up an excuse instead of dozing off after every boring sentence that leaves her mouth." A server walked by and offered him more wine, Rafe took a glass and turned back to Sam, "And really? 'Tired from last night'?" It wasn't a lie. Hell- he was tired from the night before but not for the reasons he wanted. They'd left Nathan's house a few hours ago and had to take another flight just to attend the banquet. "Sorry, 'darling'," he took the glass from Rafe's hand, "I just can't help but show off my dear lover to everyone. Even Mrs- what's her name?"

"Drevor."

"Even Mrs. Drevor." He took a sip of wine.

Rafe took the glass back, "What a sweet-talker you are."

They both stood near the tables pretending to talk to each other and being madly in love so other people wouldn't approach them. They threw in a kiss, once or twice and always kept that loving gaze that couples in their honeymoon phase always had.

"And then what happened?" Sam took a cake from the trays and tossed it into his mouth. Despite how excruciatingly tiring these parties were, the pastries always made it worthwhile. He tossed a scone in his mouth, "Mm!" He interrupted Rafe, "These are really good! Have you tried them?" Rafe smirked, "No. No, I haven't." Sam picked another scone and held it in front of Rafe, "Here, try it."

Rafe looked at the scone and took the scone in his mouth, tasting a bit of salt from Sam's fingers. Sam licked his fingers and took another one, "So?"

It was buttery and it melted and crumbled in his mouth. It had a hint of cherry on it and it was terribly sweet. It was amazing. "Mm!"

"Right?" Sam laughed.

"It tastes so good!" Rafe laughed too and it was the first of the night that wasn't forced. Sam picked another scone and held it out to him, "More?" He took it, "Yes, please."

He put the scone in Rafe's mouth. He noticed crumbs on the corner of his mouth, "Oh wait, you've got something here."

"Hm?" Sam leaned in and pecked the crumbs off his lips. He swiped the corner of his lip with his thumb and licked it, "There we go."

Rafe smiled, "Well done, Mr Drake. I'm swooning for you now."

"Get in line. I have a boyfriend."

The night had finally gotten less dull and they kept laughing and talking and laughing more. They'd nearly eaten all the scones at the table and many guests had avoided their area due to their extremely public displays of affection and the fact that they were practically hoarding the pastries. "Stop it." Rafe smacked Sam's hand as he reached to grab another piece of cake, "Ow. Don't pretend like you don't want any." He did. "Just one." Sam smiled and fed Rafe the cake, "Just one."

Rafe's savouring of the cake had been interrupted when he heard a small group of people giggling and talking a bit too loudly. "Gosh, and his ratty hair. Does he even wash that nest?"

"He looks a decade older than him. Talk about daddy issues."

"He probably paid some poor lump from the streets to take on the role."

"Explains why he's hogging all the cake like he hasn't eaten in decades."

Rafe raised a brow and saw the group of people giggle and look his way. "Do you hear that?"

"Yeah. Just ignore them." He'd gotten used to this sort of treatment and paid no mind anymore. But it bothered Rafe so terribly, "Alright." He drank more wine but the whispers and giggles got more and more infuriating.

"Have you seen how much he smokes? Probably trying to kill himself from having to be stuck with daddy's boy."

"You know, it's pathetic how much they're constantly sucking faces. It's like they're trying to prove something."

Stay calm. He told himself. Relax. For Samuel's sake.

"He's so damn old, probably can't even last a minute in bed."

That was it.

He dropped the glass and red liquid spilled to the ground. "Rafe, what are you doing?" Samuel called. He marched up towards the last girl who'd spoken. He recognised her but didn't know how, "First of all, if you plan on talking shit about my boyfriend, at least say it straight to our damn faces."

The girl smirked and crossed her arms, "Why? I didn't say anything."

Rafe laughed, "Are you really such a coward that you can barely say it to my face?"

"Alright, so what? You're dating a man a decade older than you and he's really fucking ugly. Don't worry Rafe, I understand if you couldn't find anyone else to tolerate you. It's nothing to be ashamed about"

"You have no fucking idea what I can do to you."

"What, daddy's boy? Gonna run back to daddy the second someone insults you and one of your boytoys?"

God, did he hate that name and it took everything in his power not to strike the woman right there. "Fine." He smiled, "Tell me what it is you dislike about my relationship with Samuel."

"Oh, it's nothing personal. You just have really bad taste." She turned to the man behind her. Another familiar face. Rafe smiled, knowing now where he knew the girl from, "Isn't that right sweetheart?" The man behind her nodded. Funny, he'd been talking so much crap earlier and now he was sweating buckets and keeping his lips sealed.

Rafe smiled, "Bad taste. Such as?"

"You know. His hair. His face. His age. He's probably terrible in bed. Y'know, tiny dick, big mouth?"

Rafe gritted his teeth but kept smiling. "Oh. That's funny of you to say."

"Excuse me?"

"Talking from experience, sweetheart? You're making your boyfriend look bad."

"What are you talking about?"

"Hey," He couldn't remember the man's name, "Come here." He was visibly sweating as he stepped forward and next to his girlfriend. He remembers. "You see now," He dusted the man's shoulder, "It's funny how you talk about my boyfriend, because- mine actually loves me. He can actually hold his liquor, he doesn't get drunk and fuck every random stranger he sees."

"What're you talking about?"

"I fucked your boyfriend."

"What?"

"Yeah." He smirked, "And honestly I'd like to say it was fun for the sake of this pathetic excuse of an argument, but it wasn't. He was terrible, the worst experience I'd ever had."

"You're lying."

"Really? Because I vividly recall fucking on your bed, in your room." He grinned wider, "I also noticed that you both sleep in different rooms? What? Did you keep him for the pretty face but couldn't stand his tiny dick?"

"Also," Rafe tilted her chin up, "You laugh because I'm dating a man a decade older than me but you seem to have no problem playing with boys that just passed 21."

He dropped her chin and took Sam's arm. "And," He turned to leave, "At least my boyfriend can make me finish." He left. Leaving her sputtering and whining.

They went onto the balcony and Rafe was absolutely fuming. "God! Fucking hell- What's wrong with them?!"

"Hey, relax," Sam lit a cigarette and leaned on the railings, "I told you not to worry about them." But he did worry. Why wasn't Sam? And why was he so upset? "I know.." He walked next to Sam and leaned on the railings, "I know. It's just- Fuck, those posh assholes."

"Don't be so harsh on yourself."

"Samuel."

"Alright, alright." He took a puff of his cigarette, "Why're you so upset about them anyways?" Why was he upset? "It's just-" he sputtered, "Why did they say that shit about you? You're great, you're handsome, great job, great voice. And I like your hair, despite the fact that you never use conditioner- really, why don't you?"

"Makes it flat and I'll look like a hippie."

"Makes sense," Rafe groaned in frustration, "They're just- God! They piss me off so much!"

Sam shrugged and offered him a cigarette, knowing damn well how repulsed Rafe felt about them. But Rafe smiled. He took the cigarette from Sam's mouth and pressed it to his lips. He took a puff and blew it in Sam's face. He dropped the cigarette on the ground and stomped on it, "That was hot." Sam grinned stupidly. Rafe smiled, "You say that like it's news."

Sam lit another cigarette, "Really. Why are you so worked up about them? It was just a couple of stupid remarks about me."

"That's the problem!"

"What's the problem?"

"It's about you!" Rafe sighed and turned around and leaned back on the railings. "It's always about me. It should be about me!"

"So basically you're jealous that people are talking about me and not you?"

"No! That's not it- I.. I don't like it when people talk about you like that."

"Like what?"

"Like-" Rafe was terrible at expressing himself and putting things into words. As a child his parents rarely had time for him and when they did spend time with him he wanted to make the most of it and didn't want to burden them with his problems. The servants in his house rarely cared and he spent most of his time practising to paint a smile on and responding to a 'how are you?' with a believable 'Good'. Now the result was barely being able to express anything as long as it harmed a little bit of his pride.

"Bad things. Only I can talk shit about you."

"Thanks?"

"I just- I hate what they said. Usually I'm the one people talk shit about. About being fake and a daddy's boy. Apparently I talk to a lot of older men, you included. And it's because of my 'daddy issues'. I'm used to them talking about me. But I hate hearing things like that about you."

Sam laughed and took the cigarette out of his mouth, "To be a daddy's boy with daddy issues, the stories just don't quite add up. But you should know," He put a hand on Rafe's cheek. Without realising, Rafe leaned into the touch. "I don't like it when people talk shit about you too. I'm also used to people seeing me as nothing more than a thief but I hated when they talked about you."

Rafe looked into Sam's eyes, searching for a hint of laughter, of foolery but he found none. He was genuine. He hoped he was. He'd hoped for many things. He hoped that he could finally lean into Sam and not end up falling. Finally figure out how to fix himself for Sam and not end up regretting it. Finally talk and laugh and smile because he wanted to talk, laugh and smile with him. Because he enjoyed his company and not because his reputation was on the line. But he'd hoped for many things in life hadn't he?

He leaned further back and placed a hand on the railings and another on Sam's shoulder. Sam dropped his hands and placed them on either side of the railings. "Samuel."

"What?"

"You don't have to worry about me. " He took his other hand off the railing and tilted Sam's chin downwards. He brushed his lips with his thumb, "Just worry about looking like a good boyfriend." He said jokingly, hoping to lighten up the mood.

But he did worry. Sam couldn't help but worry. Rafe was too used to bottling up his feelings and pretending that they were non-existent when Sam knew it was killing him. Sam wanted him to open up and tell him about his day without having to ask all the time. Sam wanted him to tell him if he was sad or angry instead of always trying to handle it himself and run away when the problem got too big. "I do worry."

Rafe stopped, staring at lips and looked back at his eyes, "Why?"

"Because it's you."

"Me?"

"Yeah."

Rafe was silent, he wasn't comfortable with.. emotions and was used to laughing it off and playing it off as a joke. Usually it worked but he didn't know why Sam was being so frustrating and bringing the topic back up again. Again, he laughed, "Samuel, it really is adorable that your trying you're hardest to be a good boyfriend but you're taking the role a bit too seriously. There's no one out here."

"I am serious." Damnit Sam. Why couldn't Rafe have found some other miserable sod who was terrible with feelings instead of perfect Sam? He dropped his hand from Sam's chin and placed it on his shoulder, "Samuel. Look- Can we not talk about this? So what if a few people talk crap about me? I can't go my entire life avoiding that- And why are we even talking about this? They talked about you, not me."

"We're talking about this because I don't like people talking about you like that. Why didn't you tell me?"

"You didn't care before. Why're you starting to care so much now?"

"Because I didn't know about it before!"

"Oh, please. It's happened at every party we've been to. You're just always busy staring at girls and stuffing your face in the food."

"I've never stared at girls!"

Sam sighed and put a knuckle under Rafe's chin, "Look at me," Rafe continued to avoid his gaze. He tilted Rafe's chin up, "Hey." Rafe looked at him. "Look, I want you to talk to me about these things. Even if we aren't actually dating doesn't mean I don't care about you. I want to know if you're upset and I want to help you." He placed his hands on Rafe's cheeks and traced his cheekbones with his thumb, "I care about you. And I don't like it when you feel like you can't tell me things."

Rafe didn't know what to do. Should he cry? Hug him? Kiss him? He'd never practised for moments like these. He knew what to do when a rich man tells a joke or a lady tells a story but what was he supposed to do now?

"I.." he paused, "I don't know what to say." He really didn't. "Samuel I.. I'm sorry. It's just hard for me. I'm not used to- this. Normally when things like that happen people forget about it and pretend nothing happened." He paused, "Thank you."

"Thank you?" Sam brushed the corner of his eye, he hadn't realised there'd been tears. How embarrassing.

"Thank you for caring."

"It's okay. Just, talk to me. Okay?" Rafe laughed, "Okay."

"So," Sam placed his hands on Rafe's waist, "Is it true that you and that guy.."

Rafe laughed again and wrapped his hands around his neck, "Yeah.."

"Was it good?"

"God no. It was terrible. He didn't have a condom and couldn't even pull out right. And he was grunting like an adolescent teenager the entire time. He couldn't even last two minutes!" Sam swallowed. He definitely did not want to be one of Rafe's ex-lovers. He could already imagine Rafe ranting to his next boyfriend about how terrible he was when they haven't even done anything yet. "How'd it happen?"

"We were both drunk at a party that that woman had been hosting, we bumped into each other, started making out and ended up on the bed. I think the only reason I didn't leave was because he had a pretty face."

Sam huffed, he didn't like thinking about Rafe with another man. Rafe noticed and laughed, "Aw, Samuel are you jealous?" He held Sam's chin and shook his head, "Don't worry, I like your face more. Your devilish handsomeness is actually the only reason I let you keep your role as my boyfriend."

"What? So it's not the fact that you love me? Or that I tell amazing jokes?"

"You're way off, but feel free to keep dreaming." Sam huffed again, "Don't get so worked up, Samuel." He pulled Sam closer and leaned into him. Sam felt his breath on his lips, smelling of the pastries from earlier. "If it helps," he leaned closer to whisper in his ear, "I think you'd be far better in bed."

Sam was dumbfounded when Rafe took his hands off Sam and leaned back on the railing. Sam grinned again, that stupid grin, "What was that earlier about me being able to make you finish again?"

Rafe smirked, "Oh, nothing. I was thinking of my other boyfriend."

"Other boyfriend?" He gripped harder on Rafe's waist and pulled him closer. "I don't really like sharing things. Guess we'll just have to see who's the better boyfriend."