rafe cameron [smut collection]

[ x barry ] just homeless thingz

[ 7554 words]

"Shit, man-"

Rafe pacing around in the grass. Barry can see his feet in those gay ass trainers through a haze. Hopes its not blood in his eyes.

"I-I didn't know he was gonna..I didnt mean for this to happen, okay. Fuck, bro"

He's not even near the bike his Father told him to get. Walks past Barry to collect the bottle dropped into the dewy grass earlier. Takes a few sips.

"You not gonna answer, bitch? What was I supposed to do, huh?"

Barry can't answer, his mouth is a red pool of iron and it feels like he's inhaling that shit into his lungs with every breath. Tries to keep them as flat as possible because the pain seems to tear him apart. He already knows what's up. Rib punctured his lung, for sure.

"I couldn't do nothing, alright, what do you expect from me, bro? To..to fucking go against my Dad to save your stupid ass from some punches, huh? Not like you dont fucking deserve it, bro, okay, you..you burned me. Hey, look at this shit, bro. Look at my wrist"

Rafe finally walks somewhat closer to Barry, holds out his wrist for the man on the ground to see, pulls up the bandage and presents the nasty burn wound. "Shit hurts"

Barry attempts to lift his eyes into Rafes direction to look at his work but they got their own plan and roll into the back of his head, so he just closes them instead.

"I swear to God I thought he was just gonna pay you, alright. You have to believe me, bro It's not like I snitched, okay, I aint no fucking snitch, alright, I just- You don't fucking know him, okay. Hey, you gone keep fucking ignoring me or what?"

Rafes monologue goes by unrecognized, his entire audience a lump of blood and bruises on the ground as he speaks into the the makeshift mic of a tequila bottle, adding sip-pauses for dramatic value.

He knows ignoring. Ward practically invented the game and he can fucking keep it on for days, looking through his son like he's thin air and walking right past begs and cries for him to tell Rafe how to make it right, what he can do to amend, until he figures it out himself, and Rafe's just not a particularly smart boy, it takes him a while.

"Alright, alright, maybe I shouldn't have stood there and watched but I was scared, okay. I was scared. Call me a pussy if you fucking want to, alright, but you cant expect me to stand up for you when you've done nothing but hurt me, bro, ever, okay. It doesn't make any sense, man, no sense"

Barry can't fucking die to the sound of Rafe's rambling. That's like dying of a stroke while a commercials on TV and some grossly infantilized bitch is singing about car insurance while you barf your last supper over yourself. Just straight up pathetic.

He gets ahold of Rafe's shoe while that mouth keeps talking about how he couldn't have done anything differently, and no one's even accused him of nothing—Rafe just keeps defending himself out of habit. Unlike his Father who's sick of the excuses, Barry doesn't interrupt.

Rafe shakes off the hand and keeps walking, keeps sipping.

"Did you hear that? How am I a thief, huh? You can't steal from your parents, bro. Is it, is it fucking stealing if I eat food out of the fridge because he bought it, huh? No its not, bro. That's just fucking stupid, alright. And its not like I wasn't gonna give it back, right? You got your money back like I promised, Bro, didnt you? I'm a man of my word, bro, that's what I am. No fucking thief"

It's getting kind of boring at this point, Rafe must realize himself because he stops talking and he should be able to hear the awful whistle every time Barry takes a breath, but most definitely the grunts of pain Barry's spending his last fucking energy on to hide. Just that he doesn't hear it, of course, he's too busy with himself.