Rafe Cameron Imagines

Shits, Giggles, and Shaking Tents🤍

The campsite was tucked between two massive pine trees, with moss-covered logs scattered like forgotten benches and the scent of firewood clinging to the crisp mountain air. The ground crunched under every step, the lake shimmered just beyond the treeline, and someone — probably Kelce — had already left a trail of muddy footprints across every tent in sight. Birds chirped overhead, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted like it was just as confused by this friend group's decision to camp.

It was the kind of place that looked peaceful on a postcard.
And then your group showed up.

"Okay, if we die out here, I just want it on record that this was Kelce's idea," Sarah said, hauling a cooler twice her size from the back of Topper's Jeep.

Kelce spun around, shirt halfway off for no reason. "What? I'm being outdoorsy."

"You're being a hazard," Kie muttered, yanking a sleeping bag out of the trunk and smacking him in the face with it.

Topper was already setting up a tent—wrong. You could tell from how Rafe was watching him like he was building a bomb.

"Babe," Rafe called, gesturing for you. "You wanna come tell Topper how to use a tent pole before he impales himself?"

You grinned. "God, I love it when you talk sexy to me."

—

Twenty minutes later, three tents were mostly up, there was a suspicious amount of beef jerky already missing, and everyone had migrated to the fire pit zone like moths to chaos.

You were sitting between Rafe's legs on a folded blanket, his arms wrapped around your waist while Kelce tried to balance a bag of marshmallows on his head.

"I give it an hour before someone screams," Kie said, unrolling her yoga mat next to Sarah. "Two hours max before someone cries."

"Bet," Sarah nodded. "Rafe's gonna lose it when he finds out we brought uno cards."

Rafe's grip on your waist tightened. "If you reverse me one time I'm flipping the whole damn table."

Kelce raised a hand. "No tables. We're roughing it, remember?"

"You're wearing Yeezys," you said.

"Yeah. For traction."

Topper, holding a half-burnt hot dog over the fire, turned to you. "Hey, what's your over-under on Kelce falling in the lake?"

"Eighteen minutes."

"You're too generous," Rafe muttered.

—

The sun dipped lower, and everything turned golden. The group sat in a half-circle around the fire, trading stories, insults, and snacks. Someone — again, probably Kelce — kept accidentally kicking the fire pit rocks. Kie was snacking on trail mix and offering zero to anyone else.

You turned your head slightly, resting it against Rafe's. "You know, you actually seem like you're enjoying this."

He shrugged. "Not usually a camping guy, but... I don't know. It's different with you."

"Aw," you teased. "You gonna write that in your nature journal?"

He kissed your cheek. "Only if I can doodle little hearts next to your name."

Kelce fake-gagged across the fire. "I swear to god if I hear one more cute whisper I'm sleeping in the damn car."

"You are the car," Sarah told him.

Kie leaned back. "You know what this is? It's literal shits, giggles, and shaking tents."

Topper perked up. "Shaking tents?"

Everyone turned to look at you and Rafe.

Your face heated. "Okay—first of all—"

"Oh my god," Kelce gasped. "You know what she meant. You two are gonna go at it like wild raccoons the second we blink."

"Can't believe I'm camping with porn stars," Sarah said, calmly biting into a granola bar.

"I'm offended," Rafe said. "You think I'm waiting 'til everyone's asleep?"

You smacked his chest, half-laughing, half-horrified. "Rafe!"

"Look at her," Kie said. "She's not denying it."

"I hate everyone," you muttered into your hands.

"Y'all better keep it down," Topper warned, pointing his half-eaten hot dog at you. "These tent walls are thin."

—

By midnight, the group was passed out. Except you and Rafe.

Your tent was zipped. Quiet. Cozy.

You were tangled up in one sleeping bag, legs intertwined, his hands trailing gently up and down your side like he couldn't not touch you.

"I like this," he murmured, voice rough from the chill in the air. "Just us. Out here."

"It's kinda romantic," you whispered, forehead against his.

He smiled. "Kind of?"

"Okay, fine. It's like... rom-com core. Rustic edition."

Rafe leaned in slowly, kissed you once, then again, longer, deeper, until you forgot there was anyone else on the entire planet.

"Do you think they're listening?" you asked breathlessly, fingers curling into his hoodie.

"They're definitely listening."

"Should we stop?"

He grinned. "Hell no."

And so the tent started... shifting.

Ever so slightly.

Then—

"OH COME ON," Kelce shouted from the next tent over. "IT'S LITERALLY HAPPENING."

Topper's voice came next. "I told you! I knew it!"

"Put a sock on the zipper or something!" Sarah barked.

"I hope the tent collapses," Kie added.

You were laughing so hard you couldn't breathe, face buried in Rafe's chest, both of you crying from how ridiculous it was.

Rafe kissed the top of your head, arms tight around you. "We're never gonna hear the end of this."

You grinned. "Nope. But I'm still not sorry."

"Me either," he whispered. "Best camping trip of my life."

And outside, someone (probably Kelce) shouted into the night:

"SHITS, GIGGLES, AND SHAKING TENTS, BABY!"