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#slowly creeping towards the end I’m on 130 rn
mikeystrawberry · 7 months
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Jon doodles from class
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delaber · 4 years
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Just Friends (Part 8)
Story Summary: After moving to America for a 3-month long internship, you meet two interesting characters on a boring night out.
Word Count: 4.6K
Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader
Warnings: Alcohol, minor drug use, smut, slight dom!Rafa, swearing, and loads of British references (sorry not sorry lol)
Chapter Note: this chapter is dedicated to exrthangel because she’s honestly the sweetest thing ever and she’s studying so hard rn ❤️
Tag List: lonelydance mysearchforgratification ramp-it-up blndspotting summerofsnowflakes exrthangel honeysucklechocolatedrippin
Other Parts: See Masterlist
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You had read the message over and over again ever since you had received it a couple of days ago: I have a surprise for Friday. Will pick you up at 6. Wear dark clothes.
What the hell did he have up his sleeve? Why the dark clothes? You were utterly confused as you on Friday afternoon pulled on a pair of black jeans, a black top, and your leather jacket.
At 5.55 pm, you were tying the shoelaces on a pair of combat boots when you heard Samantha exclaim from her seat in the window sill, "are you kidding me?!"
"Oh no," you groaned, "what is it?"
Samantha was looking out the window with her mouth hanging open when she suddenly started to laugh, "he has a bloody motorbike," she said in disbelief, "Where'd you find this boy? He's textbook American!"
You rushed to Samantha's side and saw Rafa on a motorbike, wearing an outfit that was roughly matching yours. He pulled off his helmet and flipped his hair before he started walking towards the front door.
"Oh, and he's cute up close too!" Samantha said as she studied him swagger up to your house.
You hurried towards the front door, calling out to Samantha, "I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"
"Oh no! You do not get off that easily!" Samantha ran from the window sill and held you back at the door, "I am going to meet this guy who's all you've been able to talk about since New Years!"
You heard a low chuckle coming from the other side of the door, "aw, you tell your friends about that guy?" Rafa spoke from the other side of the closed front door, his voice sounding as if it was about to burst with happiness.
"Not when he butts in on private conversations going on behind closed doors," you mocked him.
You could hear him chuckle slightly before Samantha in one swift motion turned the doorknob and opened the door to a smiling Rafa.
"Ladies," he nodded to both of you, sending you a wink. You had to give it to Samantha; he did look particularly good up close.
"Rafa, this is my roomie Samantha," you cleared your throat, "Samantha this is... the guy I've been talking about apparently."
Samantha extended her hand, "Nice to finally meet you. I'm Samantha."
Rafa took her hand, "likewise. I'm Rafael."
"Your real name is Rafael?" it slipped out of you and Samantha sent you a weird look.
"Yeah, what'd you think Rafa was short for?" he laughed, his crooked tooth somehow more fetching than usual.
"I honestly haven't given it much thought," you laughed and he sent you a sappy smile looking at you very softly for a couple of seconds.
Samantha noticed the sexual tension and decided to break it, "well you two have fun, yeah? I won't wait up so don't bother having her home on this side of midnight. The magic won't wear off, I swear," Samantha winked before she let you and Rafa go.
"See you later, Samantha," Rafa chuckled as he stepped down from the porch.
'Stop that!' you mouthed to your grinning roomie before you followed Rafa.
You heard the front door close shut behind you, and first then did Rafa whip around, "are you ready for the best friend-date you've ever been on?" he said theatrically.
"You bet!" you matched his level of excitement, "although I'm a bit nervous as to what we'll be doing with that," you gestured to his motorbike, while dreading his answer.
"We're going for a ride," he said dramatically and threw you one of two helmets that had been lying on the seat.
"You're not serious... I'm not going on the back of that!"
"Do you not trust me?" He smirked as he climbed the bike.
"Of course, but..."
"Then get up. I'll go slow, okay?"
"Are you sure?"
"You're gonna love it!"
"O-okay," you said and swung your leg over the seat, tightening your helmet significantly.
"Just hold on tight, okay?"
"Hold on tight to what? There are no handlebars back here," you said in a panicky voice.
"Hold on to me of course," Rafa laughed.
Your arms snaked nervously around his waist, and he put a reassuring hand on top of yours for just a second before he took a deep breath and retracted it again. You couldn't help but wonder if this was the exact reason why he had wanted you on the back of his bike in the first place.
He turned the engine and slowly drove away from your townhouse while you whimpered in the backseat. He started off by slowly going through your neighbourhood checking on you regularly while you felt more and more comfortable on the bike. Every time he felt your arms loosen their grip around him, he sped up slightly, causing you to tighten your grab around his waist significantly. You were quickly comfortable with his full control over the bike, however, and actually had to admit that you were enjoying the fast-paced way of getting around the city.
"We can go faster than this," you bellowed over the sound of the motor a couple of minutes in.
Rafa didn't need telling twice and quickly sped up the bike while you squealed in the backseat, holding on tight to him again. You rode all the way down Sunset Boulevard until you reached the coast close to the Santa Monica Pier. The bike came to a halt right before the beach.
"That was amazing," you laughed completely high from the ride.
He smiled proudly to himself as he turned off the bike, "What did I tell you? I knew you'd love it!"
"I did," you said excitedly, "thanks for making me do it!”
He looked at you tenderly for a few seconds before he came to his senses, "come. We're going over here," he said and put a hand on your leather-clad back leading you to a sketchy looking hotdog stand, where he placed an order for two of the most popular kind.
"Really?" you asked him with raised eyebrows as he handed you one of the hot dogs.
"Sorry, I couldn't help it," he laughed as you sat down on a bench overlooking the dark beach, the sky a beautiful lilac colour as you had just missed the sunset, "I was hoping it might lead to the story behind your tattoo," he sent you a crooked smile.
"God you're the worst," you laughed at him, "Alright then - but I'll only tell you because that was a really smooth move. And I'm having a bite of the hotdog first."
"Let me know what you think," he looked at you excitedly.
"They're that good?" you laughed as you took in his excitement.
"Oh you're about to taste a tiny bit of heaven," Rafa smiled, "Diggs is quite the hotdog connoisseur and he recommended the place to me way back in the day. They have bratwursts shipped in from Germany."
"You have expertise in both chillies and German sausages? You're a man of the world, aren't you?" you teased him.
"Shut up and eat your hot dog," he grinned.
You took a large bite of the sausage which was definitely one of the best you'd ever had, "oh bloody hell! This is good," you practically moaned while rolling your eyes backwards in an attempt to show Rafa exactly how much you liked his choice of dinner.
"Hey, you cannot do that," he looked panicky as he desperately elbowed you in the ribs to get you to stop, "you're giving me the chubs," he shot you an awkward laugh.
"That's all it takes?" you laughed at him.
"Hey, I'm a simple man: I see a beautiful girl putting penis-shaped foods into her mouth all the while she's moaning and her eyes are rolling to the back of her head - and the rest is physiology," he smirked and bit into his own hot dog.
"I'm beginning to suspect that's the real reason why you took me here," you laughed at him.
"Hey, don't make me out to be some creep, okay?" He laughed, "I'm your innocent friend Rafa who just loves hot dogs and beautiful women - especially the two combined. Now tell me the story behind that tattoo dammit!”
"If you must know," you groaned, "I got it at Glastonbury when I had just turned eighteen. It was part of a bet."
"Really?" He looked amused, "What did you get out of it?"
"My friends paid for the tattoo and paid me a hundred quid for it - which was a fairly good amount of money back then," you laughed.
"That's what? 130 dollars or something? I sure hope you bought yourself a car with that kind of money," Rafa joked.
"I spent all of it on booze that night alone," you laughed.
"I probably would've done the same thing to be honest," he chuckled.
"So we're both smart people!"
"PhD-smart," he tapped his temple while winking at you, "speaking of; how's your project coming?"
"Good," you nodded, "although, I'm a bit behind schedule with the project I'm working on over here. The next couple of weeks are without a doubt going to be quite busy," you sighed, "I'm not going to have much free-time."
He grunted in response, probably aware of what that meant in regards to your already limited time together.
"I constantly need to remind myself why I'm here and why I'm even doing the project," you eyed him. You wanted to tell him that he had made it hard for you to concentrate on anything apart from him but ended up deciding against it.
"Yeah? What made you decide to do the project in the first place?"
"Because it's the coolest thing ever," you bumped your knee into his.
"Yeah?" He grinned at the contact, "what's your thesis about? Explain it to me as if I'm five because I don't know science for shit."
You laughed at him and told him all about what your PhD was about, explaining it as simple as you possibly could.
"Sounds complicated," he blew out some air when you were done.
"Nah. It's just like learning a new language," you shrugged, "you get the hang of it."
"How are you so nonchalant about almost finishing a PhD?" he laughed, "it's fucking difficult and you've worked hard for it. Don't play it down. Tell me how hard it is to come this far and how amazing you are at it!"
"It's hard and I'm amazing?" you said half-heartedly with a laugh.
"Oh come on. Do it with a bit more gusto. Don't go all British on me."
"Uhm... it's hard and I'm amazing," you said a bit more resolutely this time.
"Damn straight!" he said loudly, "a project like yours does not come easy to anybody. Don't take away your own victory."
"Alright, alright, I guess I did work quite hard. But I'm very privileged to even have the chance to do it."
"Yep, that's fine and whatever," he rolled his eyes at you "- Now tell me how you really feel about it."
You eyed him for a couple of seconds. Was he really able to see right through you so easily? "Okay," you sighed, "at first all the lab work was fun but now it's kind of draining and I cannot wait until I'm done so I can start something new!" you laughed, "also, right now I hate the project because it takes away my very limited time with you."
He looked at you and tried to hide a proud smile. "Look at you being all honest," he nudged you softly in the ribs and winked at you before he responded to what you'd said, "when are you handing in your thesis?"
"If all goes well, it'll be done before summer."
"And then what?" he nodded slowly.
"Ah yes! The million dollar question," you laughed, "I don't know. Maybe a post.doc?"
"You're gonna spend your whole life in academia?" he looked at you intently, "how much money do you have?"
"You get paid a fair salary when you're doing a PhD - and tuition is free in most of Europe so you can just go to another country and study if you don't have the money for it."
"WHAT?" he bellowed, "Tuition... is... free? You’re kidding! What kind of a hippie continent is that and when can I move there?"
You laughed at him, "European welfare, boom!" You said while dropping the hotdog wrapper into the trashcan next to the bench, "Europe 1 - America 0."
"You bet," he mumbled, "Ah, I probably wouldn't have lasted a day anyway. I got kicked out of high school, you know."
"You did? What'd you do?"
"That's a story for some other day," he smiled at you, "come, I have another surprise for you."
He helped you up from the bench and snaked his hand around your waist as you walked over to the bike in silence. You wanted to tell him that what he was doing felt close to violating your code of conduct but just like the other night, his hand around you made you feel safe and warm, so you let him keep it there.
You rode back up Sunset Boulevard telling yourself repeatedly that safety was the only reason for your tightly wrapped arms around his waist.
A couple of minutes later, Rafa parked the bike outside a brick building with a big sign reading 'THE ECHOPLEX presents CLIPPING.'
You could hear the music boom from inside. "Is this a concert venue?" you asked him.
"Yep," he said, "you and I have tickets for the hottest shit in L.A."
"Oh, don't tell me you're going to try and convert me into a rap-lover?" you laughed, "I haven't even listened that much to your playlist."
"I'm not going to covert you," Rafa smirked, "Diggs is."
"Oh, we're meeting up with Daveed?" you said not really sure if you were excited about seeing him or disappointed that you'd have to share Rafa with him.
"...Kind of," Rafa said mysteriously.
"I'm intrigued," you said as you handed him your helmet.
He put it on the bike and took your hand, "Come on, we're late. The show's already started."
He showed the bouncer two laminated tickets and handed you one of them afterwards, "put this around your neck."
"Backstage pass?" you arched an eyebrow as you read the inscription, "really?"
"I came to impress," he laughed, "you want something to drink?"
"A beer would be lovely," you nodded, looking at the stage where a man was rapping rapidly to weird noises and sounds. You weren't really sure that this was anything for you.
Rafa came back a short while later and handed you a local beer. "I brought you an IPA," he laughed, "I figured you'd appreciate my average white-male taste."
"I like IPAs too," you laughed, "this music on the other hand is..." your voice trailed off.
"What, you don't like it?"
"No, Rafa," you laughed and pointed towards the stage, "what the hell is this shit because it surely isn't music! Don't tell me that you actually find this good."
"You did not just say that!" he looked at you with an amused face.
"What?"
"Have you even seen who's performing?" he laughed whole-heartedly and pointed towards the stage.
The guy rapping shirtless at the front was spitting bars and hyping people up, and first then did you realise that you knew him, "Hold up! Is that Daveed?"
Rafa laughed at you, his hand coming to a rest on the small of your back as he leaned in and whispered in a teasing voice, "I'm going to tell him that you think his music's shit."
"You wouldn't dare," you leaned threateningly close and squinted your eyes at him.
"Oh, but I would - so you better behave," he said devilishly, his gaze wandering between your lips and your eyes, clearly thinking about kissing you. When you noticed, it once again took everything in you to pull back and turn towards the stage instead. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rafa take a deep breath before turning to the stage as well with a somewhat pained expression in his eyes. He slowly found the rhythm of the music, head bopping in time with the beat while he started quietly rapping along.
-
"I can't believe he's a rapper," you laughed when the concert was over and you were heading towards the backstage area, "normally he looks so... innocent - but up there he's so... raw!" You laughed and felt the many beers that you and Rafa had shared.
"Easy girl," Rafa laughed, "don't go change me out for Diggs.”
You sent him a look that he most certainly was familiar with by now.
"I know," he chuckled, "just friends. That's what I meant," he lied, "come on, they're in here," he pushed open the door to the band's private room.
"Alright, guys!" Rafa yelled in best hype-man style as he waltzed across the room to the mini fridge in the back, walking as if the owned the room, "well done. Great show! Even my homegirl here agrees."
You waved to the three guys, "very nice show. Love the energy."
"Glad you enjoyed it," Daveed nodded, "Rafa mentioned that you don't really get rap music - did we manage to change your mind?"
"I think the show was really great," you said slowly trying to figure out a way to not hurt his feelings.
"It's not for everyone. I get it, no worries," he laughed, "Just don't tell Rafa; it would just break his heart."
"Hey - quick question," you whispered, "what do you think would rile Rafa up the most: criticising rap music in general or criticising his beloved chili sauces?"
It made Daveed chuckle, "hot sauce! For sure. Did you not hear his lecture the other day? He takes that shit very seriously and just goes on and on and on to anybody that'll listen."
"Who are you guys talking about?" Rafa emerged at your side, casually draping his arm across your shoulder as he handed you and Daveed a beer each.
"No one," you and Daveed said in unison.
"Are you plotting against me?" Rafa chuckled, "should I be concerned?"
"No," you both said at the same time looking excitedly at each other.
"Right..." Rafa pulled you just a little closer to him, clearly wanting to show his friend that he needed to know his place - subconsciously or not, you did not know.
"So... what do you guys usually do after concerts?" you asked, hoping to break the tension you felt in Rafa who was now pressed completely up against your side.
"We get high," Daveed laughed, "I was just about to ask..."
"Don't worry, I didn't take you here to get high," Rafa interrupted his best friend and sent you a smile.
"It's okay! If it's what you usually do, I don't mind."
"Are you sure?" Rafa shot you a look, "it feels like kind of a dick move on my part to meet up with a bunch of my friends and get high when we're on a date."
"I thought you were just friends," Daveed mumbled without looking up from the cone he was folding.
"He gets it," you smiled and sat down on the sofa next to Daveed.  
"Okay, sure," Rafa nodded and sat down next to you with a small laugh, "I guess I could get high too if you're definitely up for it."
"I am," you sent him a grin.
"Alright, let's do this," Rafa said and draped his arm around your shoulders.
"Oh god, I haven't done this since I was twenty," you were slightly nervous as you eyed the blunt that Daveed was now lighting up.
"So last year?" Rafa teased.
"Easy grandpa, I'm 29."
"Ah yes, so young and innocent. So easy to manipulate!" he sighed, "I remember when I was your age."
"And you're what? Four years older than me?" You arched an eyebrow at him.
"Yes, but the years between 29 and 33 are really what define you as a person," he smiled and put his arm back around your shoulder.
Daveed took a puff of the joint before handing it to you, "Here you go," he said, "It's strong so you probably don't need that much."
You inhaled slightly, resisting the urge to cough before you quickly exhaled a mouthful of smoke already feeling its effects, "oh damn," you said as you already felt yourself growing relaxed and careless. You quickly took your second puff before passing it along to Rafa who was clearly more experienced than you were. He puffed it twice as well before he passed it on to Daveed's band mate Will. You held out your fingers, ready for hit number three.
Rafa raised an eyebrow at you, "are you sure?"
"Yep," you said, your speech a little slurred but you were sure you could take it.
The third hit of the joint hit you like a truck, "oh fuck," you exhaled as you felt a wave of warmth wash over you.
"You okay?" Rafa laughed at you as he took hit number four himself. His eyes were bloodshot but apart from that, he kept it together.
"Yep," you said as you slumped on the sofa.
"You look like a slug," Rafa mimicked you, arms hanging to the side, his chin pressed tightly against his sternum.
"But a cute slug," you pouted.
"The cutest," he snickered, his hands brushing slightly against your knuckles before his fingers entangled themselves in yours.
"Mmmh," you hummed at his touch, all thoughts of what you should or shouldn't do, gone. You couldn't remember if you'd ever been this carefree and relaxed before. Especially when his thumb was caressing your hand as he sent you a cute smile.
Looking into Rafa's bloodshot eyes, you reminded yourself that you needed to keep your cool. You were both drunk and high. You shouldn't be doing this no matter how much you wanted it. So you retracted your fingers from his and sat up straight on the sofa. "I need a beer," you mumbled and walked over to the fridge in the far corner.
"Yeah, bring me one too," Daveed called, "- maybe an entire round. My main man Will is looking a little thirsty over here," he nodded towards his band member who was clearly experiencing cotton mouth.
You looked back at the men in the sofa and counted each of them; thus you picked up four beers and slowly walked back to them. Rafa was staring at you through heavy-hooded eyelids with a smug expression on his face. He was looking very very fuckable as he slid down further on the sofa, spreading his legs slightly as you neared him. You really just wanted to say fuck it all and jump him - but no, you weren't going to go down that road. You had made a promise to each other. A promise you intended to keep no matter how high you were.
You sat down a beer in front of each of the men before realising that you had forgotten one for yourself. Giggling slightly at your own high, you returned to the fridge where you bent over and picked up yet another beer.
"Are you on a mission to torture me?" Rafa's hush voice sounded from behind you, "because bending over like that twice in a span of thirty seconds is just plain mean..."
"What?" You turned around, now face to face with him.
He stepped closer, "I'm sure you're aware of the effect that you have on me. Especially when you bend over like that."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," you said innocently, an involuntary smile spreading slowly on your lips as you took in his pained expression.
"Fuck!" he hissed, "That - that - is exactly what I'm talking about," he stepped as close to you as he possibly could without touching you, "half the time you look so innocent and doe-eyed and then suddenly - boom - your innocence is replaced by these... mewling sex-kitten looks and fuck it's hard to keep my hands to myself when we both know what we want - Regardless of your code," he ended up sighing.
He still wasn't touching you but the way he was moving his face told you that he was fighting hard to not kiss you. And to be honest, you were fighting too.
"It's not on purpose," you said, looking up at him, "I'm not so evil that I'd dangle bait in front of you on purpose and then get angry when you bite into it."
"I don't care that you're not doing it on purpose," he grinned and licked his lips, "you're still doing it. And I really want to fuck you right now."
"Too bad you can't," you said.
"You're really strong-willed, aren't you?"
"You don't move half-across the globe for a project you've lost interest in if you're not strong-willed."
He leaned in closer, lips hovering above yours but never touching, "fuck, it's so hard not to touch you..." he groaned, "I hate being friends with you."
"I hate being friends with you," you said softly, almost giving in and closing the distance.
Your moment of weakness, however, was interrupted by Daveed who gave out a loud whistle to get your attention. "Rafa!" he bellowed, "Party's moving downtown."
Rafa grunted in response, turning his attention back to you, "do you want to go?"
"Not really," you said, gulping up at him.
"Me neither..." Rafa responded and fidgeted with the hem of your t-shirt, "do you want to come back to mine?"
"That sounds dangerous," you smiled and avoided his gaze, instead fixating on the thin golden necklace he was wearing.
"I won't try anything," he grumbled above you, "I promise - okay? We could just... watch the rest of the movie from the other night."
You looked up at him, his eyes bloodshot but soft as he watched you contemplate your answer. "Okay," you ended up whispering, already knowing that you were now doomed. You just couldn't help yourself with him. Especially not when high and with alcohol coursing through your veins.
Rafa sent you a smirk, "good girl," he whispered darkly, sending shivers down your spine. "Diggs, we're not coming."
"Right," Daveed nodded, "see you guys later. Have fun," he shot you a smirk.
Rafa quickly ordered an Uber while you pulled on your leather jacket and started walking towards the exit. Rafa was walking behind you, his gaze almost burning a hole in your jeans as you swung your hips a bit more vigorously than you normally would've done. Not to get his attention, you told yourself.
When you arrived outside, the car was already waiting for you. You both got in the backseat, and intentionally left the middle seat empty between you. No need to tempt the devil.
You hadn't driven for more than a couple of seconds, however, before you noticed that Rafa was already having a hard time sticking to his promise of not trying anything with you, "I didn't even get a chance to tell you how amazing you look tonight," he put his neck on the headrest and looked over at you.
"Thanks," you smiled at him, "you look very handsome yourself."
His hand twitched in his lap as if he had decided to reach out and touch you had but reconsidered at the last possible moment. With a sigh, he turned his head and looked out the window instead, completely silent for the rest of the journey to his place.
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