#just imagine eddie as happy being so happy go lucky but incredibly rough around the edges

[sidekickjoey]

I'm not saying that Steddie would make for a really fun Happy Gilmore!AU...

But Steddie would make for a really fun Happy Gilmore!AU

[rawresparza]

It has been a crappy past few days, and I turn out to be not very good at being supported and/or comforted. But I suspect I'm not the only one. May I please prompt you to show us Rafael learning to be loved by Sonny? I bet it wasn't easy for him. Please and thank you?

HI, anon! I’m so sorry you’ve had a rough few days and I hope things have at least started to look up. I totally understand what you mean because I have a hard time in that regard, too, and sometimes I still struggle with it. I definitely agree Rafael would, as well. I hope this is at least a little bit along the lines of what you were thinking and if not, I hope it’s still okay. May the rest of your week be brighter

–

Rafael has had a grand total of approximately seven hours of sleep, forty-eight hours of a migraine, and zero hours of patience over the last three days and if anyone would bother to ask, he’d say he’s very much fed up with it.

Well, no, that’s not true at all. A number of people have asked, Sonny has asked him so many times he’d lost count, and he’d only responded with increasingly gruff versions of “I’m fine.” Sonny knows damn well he’s not fine, he hadn’t been fine when the defense had dropped a surprise fucking witness on this case and he hadn’t been fine when he’d popped prescription ibuprofen for the umpteenth time, even though it hardly ever works to get rid of the pounding in his head.

But he can’t slow down, he doesn’t know how, that’s not in his blood. Always keep moving, keep busy, that had been his philosophy as a kid because it’d meant maybe, just maybe, he could avoid a bad evening at home or a run-in with some older boy or another he’d mouthed off to that day. Either way, slowing down would mean risking getting caught in someone’s snare, and coming up with new excuses for his bruises for concerned teachers or the school nurse or even the ER doctors was never worth the trouble.

Upon deeper reflection, he supposes one could make the argument that at this point in his life, he’s really just running away from the very thing that could help him: taking a break, taking a breath, letting someone take care of him. He’s just not used to that and seven months into this relationship with Sonny, Rafael is a little concerned he never will be. Comforting other people has never been his forte and he’s even worse when it comes to being comforted but that’s why he’s never made any real effort to make friends. He’d had Eddie and Alex and even Yelina as a kid; but with friends like them, why would he dare pursue anything like that as an adult? Getting close to people had only ever led to getting hurt, in his experience.

Sonny had somehow managed to evade the walls he’d carefully built up around himself over the past couple decades, Rafael has no idea how he’d done it. A few invitations out to coffee then drinks then dinner, that absurd Staten Island accent murmuring sweet nothings in his ear, a kiss on a rooftop with a half-decent view of the Manhattan skyline, these are all things that had led Rafael down the path to his own demise; that is to say, he’d let himself fall in love. He doesn’t regret that, he could never regret that, but sometimes, Rafael feels like maybe he doesn’t deserve it.

This is one of those times.

With Buchanan and his piece of shit client looking all kinds of arrogant on the evening news, Rafael’s mood has taken a turn from bad to awful. He’d popped another two ibuprofen against the advice of his boyfriend–

“Did you finally hit up Fordham for your medical degree while I wasn’t looking?”

–and now he’s feeling especially petty because Sonny had been right, he shouldn’t have done it, especially not on an empty stomach. He’s had seven coffees and half a stale granola bar he’d found buried in his office desk drawer today. When Sonny had asked what Rafael wanted him to bring home for dinner, Rafael had lied and said he’d already eaten.

Why? He doesn’t know. Maybe he’s just always been a sucker for self-sabotage, old habits die hard. It’s easier to push people away than admit he could use the help.

He can feel Sonny watching him watch the news and it’s unnerving. His body betrays him, works against him, tenses up even though he doesn’t want to draw attention to the fact that he’s getting more and more irritated by the second, by virtue of the fact that Sonny is simply existing beside him. That isn’t fair, he knows that, but he also knows Sonny will earnestly try to offer any form of assistance possible and that’s the opposite of what Rafael wants. What he wants is to be left alone to wallow in his frustration, he wants Sonny to go back to his own damn apartment so he can get sufficiently buzzed off a few pours of the good scotch he saves for shittier days before hopefully getting another hour of sleep.

Instead, Sonny’s hand finds its way to the nape of his neck, fingertips playing with the ends of Rafael’s hair. It feels good. He’s not used to feeling good. Before Sonny, he’d barely remembered what it was like to feel at all. On better days, things between them are incredible, it’s like living in fantasy world compared to what Rafael’s previous, much more short-lived romances; but on days like this, he wishes he was still alone. At least he has the decency to feel bad about that, he supposes.

“You should turn that off,” Sonny says, tilting his head toward the TV screen. Rafael purses his lips, the lines at the corners of his eyes deepening, but Sonny doesn’t heed the warning. “And you should eat something. Carmen told me she only saw you guzzling coffee during recesses.”

“Carmen’s not my mother and neither are you,” Rafael says. He doesn’t bother to hide his bitterness but Sonny doesn’t even flinch. It’s a little infuriating.

“No, I’m your boyfriend,” Sonny says patiently. Sonny’s fingers travel up over Rafael’s hair, webbing out over his scalp and pulsing just slightly at just the right pressure points. It sends a shiver down Rafael’s spine and his eyes flutter shut as a relieved sigh escapes him. “I’m your boyfriend, and I love you, and I really wish you’d just let me do something to help you. Feed you, hold you, tell you nice things, whatever. Anything.”

Rafael slowly blinks his eyes back open, still reeling a bit from how much tension has already left his body just from one gentle massage. But it’s not the massage, it’s Sonny. Of course it’s Sonny, it’s always been Sonny. “Okay. Tell me something nice.” It’s conceding without conceding, he’s really just testing the waters, but he turns the TV off anyway and his heart flutters in his chest when he’s met with a pair of dimples.

“I got the recipe for your favorite dish from your ma.” Sonny hesitates, studying Rafael for a reaction. “She said she used to make it for you when– well, when things weren’t so good at home. I’m sure it won’t be as good as how she does it but…” He trails off when Rafael straightens up in his spot on the couch, shaking Sonny’s hand from his head. “I’m sorry, did I overstep?”

Rafael catches Sonny’s hand before he can pull it away, shaking his head, a look of awe taking over his expression. “You called my mom? You did that for me?”

“You’ve just been so stressed out,” Sonny says, lowering his eyes sheepishly. “This case has been rough, I know, but you’re barely sleeping and I’m sorry, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life, but Raf, you seriously look like you might keel over any second. I just figured, if you won’t take care of yourself, I can do it for you until things get back to normal.”

Swallowing hard, Rafael considers Sonny’s words, turning them over in his mind, examining them piece by piece. It’s not a hard bargain Sonny’s driving, he suspects most people would be thrilled to have their significant others say something like that to them. It’s just that over the years, he’s developed a habit of being suspicious of those who extend kindness his way. He’s not proud of that but it is what it is.

Maybe it’s time he starts to unlearn that. Maybe it’s time he starts trusting Sonny not just with the good but with the bad and everything in between. It’s time he starts getting used to the idea Sonny isn’t going to run when things get hard

“It’s hard for me,” Rafael admits. “I’m not great at the whole asking for support thing.”

“No kidding,” Sonny teases, arching a brow.

Rafael’s smile reaches his eyes, genuine but brief before he takes on an air of sincerity again. “I want to be better at it. That might take time, but I want to let you in.”

“Well, lucky for you, I’m very patient when it comes to gorgeous, green-eyed ADAs. Especially ones with really short fuses.”

“You’re going to take a dig at me while I’m opening up to you?” Rafael asks, huffing with mock indignance. Even as he does, he settles in next to Sonny, lowering his cheek to his boyfriend’s shoulder and smiling against the soft fabric of a Fordham Law shirt while Sonny’s arm drapes over his shoulder.

“To be fair, I complimented you in the same breath, so those clearly cancel each other out.”

They laugh together and it’s like the air has cleared. The room feels different. Sonny kisses his hair, and Rafael doesn’t even consider pulling away. He’s found an anchor in Sonny, a happy place in Sonny’s arms. Somehow, he’d stumbled into this, having no idea what to expect. Rafael had never imagined he’d be this fortunate.

“By the way,” Sonny says, “I picked up some kung pao and fried rice for you at the Chinese place we like. I’ll heat it up for you if you want it.”

God, he loves this man. With every last part of himself, Rafael loves Sonny more than he’d thought he had the capacity to love someone. It surprises him, every single day, the ferocity with which he feels for this one person because he’s never felt that with anyone else before. Sometimes he cringes at himself for throwing the word “soulmate” around in his head because that’s not like him, that isn’t a concept he’s ever believed in, but Sonny has a way of making Rafael believe in the impossible.

Tomorrow, when he’s back in court, he’s sure he’ll be pissy and snappy and anyone who crosses his path will suffer his wrath; but at the end of the day, he’ll remember he has this. He has Sonny.

That makes it all worth it.