summary: rafe totally isn't whipped for you
warnings: just curse words
"Alright, what the fuck is up with you?" Topper finally asked Rafe, grabbing onto his shoulder. "We're at a party surrounded by chicks and booze, and you're over here sitting alone looking like you're gonna kill yourself."
Rafe shook Topper’s hand off of him, smoothing out his sweatshirt that Topper had just grabbed onto, "get your hands off me, man."
Topper held his hands up, "I'm just worried about you, dude."
Rafe simply rolled his eyes, reaching down to the cooler by his chair to grab a beer. He cracked open the can and took a long sip, "happy now?"
Topper scoffed, "whatever, man. At least do a bump," he said, reaching into his back pocket.
Rafe shook his head, "I'm good."
"Oh come on," Topper started, beginning to pull out the plastic bag, only to be stopped by Rafe's grip on his arm.
"I said fucking no, Top. Jesus."
"Alright, alright," he said with a defeated sigh, turning to walk back toward the lively side of the party.
He stopped when he reached Kelce, putting a hand on his shoulder to get his attention. "Hey, you know what's been up with Rafe lately?"
Kelce shook his head a little, "whatchu mean?" he slurred.
Topper pointed back to wear Rafe was sitting in a chair, arms crossed, just staring straight in front of him, "look at the fucker. Offered him a bump and he said no. He's acting extra bitchy than normal."
Kelce shrugged his shoulders carelessly and started to walk away, but stopped abruptly when a thought entered his mind. "Y'know what it might be? That y/n chick isn't here," he said, eyes widened in realization.
Topper gave him a puzzled look, wracking his brain for any recognition of a y/n. "Who?"
Kelce rolled his eyes, "come on man. Y/n y/l/n. She was in a couple of our classes senior year. Rafe ran into her at that bonfire a couple weeks ago, remember? He was smiling and giggling and shit and blew us off when we asked him about it," Kelce only paused briefly before hitting Toppers chest, "yeah, yeah now that I think about it, he's in an oddly good mood when she's around, and extra douchebaggy when she's not. Shit's crazy, man," he said with a shake of his head.
Topper vaguely remembered the girl he was talking about. He thought for a moment, a plan forming in his slightly intoxicated mind. "You got her number?" he asked Kelce.
"I think. Here," he mumbled, shoving his phone against his chest before taking off toward the girl that had just called his name. If Rafe was actually whipped over this girl, Topper was going to figure it out.
After calling your number about seven times, he finally got an answer. "Jesus Christ Kelce, what do you want?" you'd asked, irritated tone evident in your voice.
"Heyyy y/n, this is Topper Thornton. What are you up to right now?" He asked in his nicest voice he could pull off.
Topper could practically hear you roll your eyes, "currently I'm wishing I'd never given my phone number to Kelce. What do you want?"
"I just wanted to invite you to this party I'm at right now," he said, only now realizing that he had no reason to back up this invitation without spoiling his plan. "It's uh- really fun. And I was just sitting here thinking, 'y/n y/l/n would really like this party'," he said, slapping his hand on his forehead at his own words.
On the other side of the phone, you were sitting in your car outside the party you could only assume Topper was talking about now. You were planning on attending the party from the jump, you'd just lost track of time watching TV. "What's so good about the party, Topper?" you played along for the fun of it.
"Uhh-" Topper thought for a little too long, "there's uh, beer?" He said, sounding unsure of his words.
You rolled your eyes, but composed yourself. "You know what, Top? You've convinced me. I'm on my way," you said with fake sincerity, smiling at your own acting.
"Really? Great, see ya," Topper hung up the phone, a proud smile on his face. Now all he had to do was watch and see if Kelce was right.
You opened your car door after a couple moments, and made your way inside the house. You squeezed through the crowd of people in the living room, trying to get to a less crowded area.
You stopped in the kitchen, scanning the room for your friend that had invited you. She was nowhere to be seen, so you opted to go get a drink first.
You grabbed a beer out of the cooler, sipping it slowly as you leaned against the kitchen counter, still looking around the room for your friend. Your eyes landed on a familiar figure sitting on a chair outside, only visible through the glass doors. You smiled a little, immediately walking toward the back door.
"You look like you're having fun, Cameron," you said once you reached him, sitting down on the table in front of him, your knees touching his.
Rafe's lips twitched into an immediate smile, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. He leaned forward a little so he could hear you over the voices of everyone around you, "hey, how long have you been here?"
"Just got here. Why? You been looking for me?" You asked with a smirk, putting your free hand out to shove his shoulder lightly.
Rafe looked down, an involuntary red flush starting on his cheeks. "Course not," he waved the accusation off quickly, in a comically unconvincing tone. "But I am glad you're here. These parties bore the hell out of me."
"Oh come on, Rafe Cameron bored at a party?" your eyes flickered down to the beer in his hand. You grabbed it from him, eyes widening at the realization it was nearly full, "and not even drinking a beer?" You questioned.
Your eyebrow raised as Rafe simply shrugged, "just not feeling it recently, I guess. The last party I actually had fun at was Kelce's a couple weeks ago, remember?" his smile widened as he spoke, "when we absolutely demolished everyone at beer pong."
You laughed with a nod, "course I remember. You're the best pong partner I've had in years," you said truthfully, a smile plastered on your face.
Rafe's expression turned impossibly more bright, eyes lighting up at the sight of your smile and the angelic sound of your laugh. He tore his eyes from you after a moment, so he could actually form words. "Do you uh- have any plans for later tonight?"
You opened your mouth to say something, but all that came out was a shriek as cold liquid splashed on your shoulder and down your back. You stood up abruptly, wringing out your now beer-soaked shirt.
"Oh shit," a guy slurred from beside you, "my bad."
Topper got up quickly from his chair across the room after witnessing the incident, starting to move toward the two of you. He had just happened to look over just as- okay fine, he was watching intently the whole time.
He prepared himself as he walked to pull Rafe off of the guy that had just soaked you in beer - no doubt in his mind that Rafe would start a fight.
Rafe stood up from his chair quickly, only spending half a second sending a glare toward the drunk idiot who'd done this. He placed his hands on your shoulders, “are you alright?” he asked, worried eyes scanning over you.
Topper's eyes narrowed as he watched Rafe turn his attention fully to you, as the drunk guy stumbled back into the house. He watched intently as the rest of the scene played out, completely opposite from what he expected.
You laughed, nodding your head. “I’m good, I just reek of Bud Light now,” you glanced down at your shirt, “and I look ridiculous,” you said with a chuckle.
Rafe quickly unzipped his jacket, shrugging it off of his shoulders and placing it loosely over yours, "what an asshole," he muttered.
You slipped your arms into the sleeves, chuckling a little at how they fell so far past your hands. You rolled the sleeves up a little, and zipped up the sweatshirt. “Thanks, Rafe. My hero,” you said with a grateful smile.
Rafe’s grin widened uncontrollably at your words, and he quickly tried to shake the giddy feeling off of him, "you uh- you wanna go inside? It looks a little less crowded in there.”
You nodded, slipping your hand into his as you navigated through the crowd of people together.
Topper let out a shocked breath as he watched you and Rafe walk through the doors and out of his sight. "Well I’ll be damned," he muttered to himself with a shake of his head, "he is whipped."
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