t f l n o v e r f l o w.

[chardismastic]

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[seekingmyfortune]

[It's a good thing Rafe doesn't send a barrage of texts because Sam would definitely be responding to all of them while his foot was on the gas pedal. So Rafe gets to sit in suspense for a good long twenty minutes, because yeah, he did need to pick up some cigarettes at the store and obviously those take precedent over a guy who just pulverized a wannabe mugger to a pulp. If Rafe had said he had gotten shot or stabbed maybe he would have gotten there a little sooner. It's not like there's much anyone can do for a few bruised ribs anyway.

Sam rolls down the window of the passenger side as he approaches, his own window also rolled down to filter out the smoke from the cigarette hanging in his mouth. It's a strange sight, Sam with his denim jacket and plain v-neck shirt driving something as fancy and expensive as a Lamborghini. He looks like he doesn't quite belong in it (which he obviously doesn't), but he nevertheless seems to have made himself comfortable.

Rafe on the other hand doesn't look too good, but in this case Sam can only imagine what the other guy must look like. Honestly, he's lucky he's not dead.]

You wanna drive when you can barely lift your arms above your head? [Don't think he didn't notice you struggle to stand. Sam takes his cigarette between his fingers and leans over to open the door on Rafe's side.] Get in. And you're welcome.

[chardismastic]

[ Eyes already narrowing at the thin plume of smoke he sees from the driver's side, Rafe is well on the way to a glower when Sam rolls the other window down. Oh, hell no. ]

You're smoking. In my car. [ Nicotine was part and parcel working with Sam but there were some definitive ground rules that Rafe tried to enforce and Sam tried to not get caught breaking. If the car ban hadn't specifically come up, it's only because Rafe doesn't think Sam would even try. Does he even know how difficult it is getting that smell out of rich Corinthian leather? Of course he doesn't. ] Are you kidding me right now.

[ Much as he wants to stand and argue — he crosses his arms in defiance because okay, maybe his ribs are sore but like that's enough to stop him — Rafe knows exactly how stubborn Sam can be and the longer they argue, that's one minute more that cigarette's burning.

And another minute until Rafe can get home and under a hot shower. Dammit.

A scowl on his face, he stalks to the passenger side door and tosses the jacket in ahead of him before sliding into the seat, door slammed behind him. But before Sam can bother getting smug about winning, Rafe leans over the gearshift to pluck that cancer stick out of his mouth and flick it out the window. He'll pay for stretching like that later but screw it. Totally worth the twinge and he settles back against the seat, grabs the belt to buckle in. ]

You're not lighting another one of those. You can wait until you're back at the house.

[seekingmyfortune]

You just pulverized a guy and you're worried about my smoking in your car?

[Rafe's rules know no bounds, apparently. It's true that he does try to adhere to them as much as possible, even if some of them can be a little ridiculous. It's a consequence of staying with the guy who broke him out of prison, Sam supposes. But seriously, is Rafe kidding him right now? Plucking that freshly lit cigarette out of his mouth like he's some sort of teenager? Does he know how much cigarettes even cost nowadays? Of course he doesn't.]

Seriously?

[His eyebrows raise as he watches Rafe buckle himself in, some small part of him hoping that that movement hurts a little. Sometimes the most satisfying joys in life come from the tiniest things. Sam sighs, fighting the urge to reach for another cigarette anyway and instead placing one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift.]

All set, your majesty?

[He won't wait for an answer as he pulls out of the spot,]

[chardismastic]

Seriously. The guy's dealt with already and out the picture. [ Rafe starts to wave off the comment but yeah, his ribs are hurting, and the motion jerks to a stop while he swallows a grimace. ] Leaves me free and clear to deal with your ashy ass.

[ The pain is almost compounded by a deep breath before Rafe catches himself. Bad idea and not just because his nose wrinkles at the smell in the car. A costly smell — and yes, he knows exactly how much cigarettes cost given he kept Sam in packs the first couple weeks before deciding it not worth the price anymore — but still shitty.

For his part, Rafe thinks he's been downright goddamn magnanimous in his rules. No smoking in the house, clean up after yourself, put shit back where you found it. They're big umbrellas to cover most everything, sure, but you'd think them common sense when you're stuck living and working with each other. Much like how Rafe would've figured it the same common sense to leave the cigarettes out the picture while driving.

Then again, expecting a Drake and common sense to go together was probably his first mistake.

His arm curls over his stomach as he leans back into the seat, eyes rolling as they close. Much as he wants to shift and find some way to sit comfortable, he knows better. There isn't going to be any way to sit comfortable for a good week. Not after getting stomped like that. Bitching won't do anything to fix it and so he stifles a hiss behind clenched teeth before glancing over at Sam. If he's needling at Drake then it's something to focus on other than the pain. ]

Don't act all put upon. I told you I was fine calling a cab, you're the one who stuck your nose into this.