Z! True Love Story
Summary: Sometimes enemies in the ring can be the closest of friends in real life… and sometimes even more. Summary sucks, just read the story. Rated M for language, sexual content. Slash.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I know nothing of the actual relationships between any WWE employees or of their personal lives. No copyright infringement is intended. In short, don't sue me.
Author's note: I've had a go at a few slashy one-shots before this. My next fic was going to be het, just to try it for once (I am a straight female after all, it can't be that hard!) but I couldn't find a suitable female, and I can't write a female OC without turning her into me, and even I don't want to read about me. Then I started watching RAW again when I got back to college and the wonders of all-campus Wi-Fi, and now I just can't get Dolph Ziggler out of my head. This will be a CHAPTERED fic! Yes, my days of being a one-shot artist are… well, not quite over, but I'm branching out into longer stuff. So please review: honest but gentle is my only request. If you don't like the pairing, go ahead and read something else. Nowadays people are very finicky with what pairings they will and will not read, and what roles the characters are in. If you can't find what you like, be resourceful and make it yourself!
Warnings: Smut will come in later chapters. For now, I'll just put a language warning. Not just for swearing: if you don't like guys who call each other man, bro or dude, this probably isn't for you. That's how all the guys I know talk, I just write from experience.
Chapter 1: Of Broskis and Hoeskis
Eve. The temptress who put one over on the father of the human race, leading to all the bullshit that we have to deal with in our human existence. Or so the Good Book says, I think. I haven't read much of it. All I know is, from all the stories I heard, Adam would have been better off if he'd just stayed away from Eve in the first place. And so would I.
She was like a drug. I'm not straight edge like Punk or anything—I've been known to knock back a few Bud Light Limes with my broskis on occasion—but with her, I learned what addiction feels like. It's something you hate and want to get away from, but just keep going back to over and over again. I guess being "addicted" to her wasn't like being hooked on pills or booze like some guys I know—like too many guys I know. But the girl was one powerful substance. She had me so fucked in the head I couldn't remember my own name. And Zack's not even a hard name to remember. All I knew was, she took me seriously. She made me feel important, like I was actually something more to her than just some random, tanorexic musclehead from Long Island, which is what pretty much everyone else around here treats me like. She seemed to get that being a broski isn't about being a douche like the guys on the Jersey Shore; it's just about having fun with your friends, getting fit, partying and looking good while you do it. And the sex… bro, the sex was awesome. I know it seemed like she was stringing me along on RAW, but things have changed in wrestling to where we can't do the whole Edge and Lita thing again. Believe me, there are a lot of wrestlers whose personal lives you really don't want to know about. Like Alex Riley. Some of the stuff I hear from that guy makes me throw up in my mouth. Anyway, hell yeah I was doing Eve, and it was great. If you think that girl can move in a wrestling ring, you should see her (and feel her) in bed.
And then, out of the blue, she was gone. Just like the US Championship, she slipped right through my fingers. And you want to know how she told me it was over? A text message. Are you serious, bro? Sorry, I mean are you serious, hoe? One text. "I'm sorry Zack, I can't be with you anymore. I'm just not feeling it. Let's just be friends k? *~Eve~*" I couldn't even respond. I broke down. Literally just flopped down on the loveseat (great name, that) in my hotel room and started bawling my eyes out. Of course, as usual, after sadness comes anger. How could she do this to me? Make me feel so great then rip my heart out? Was she seeing somebody on the side? Who was it? One of my friends? Hawkins? Primo? Even… no way, he wouldn't betray me like that, would he? I wouldn't put it past her to hit on him—after all he was hot, not that I looked at him like that or anything, and she'd probably take it from anybody who was giving it out. And it would further our feud to have him steal her from me… look what that kind of real-life drama did for Edge and Matt Hardy. Plus he'd already done it once on Z! True Long Island Story, but that's just a YouTube show, it doesn't make any difference on RAW or SmackDown. But Dolph wouldn't do that to me. The guy I stayed with in hotels and went to breakfast with, the guy who was part of some of my favorite WWE memories (like the time a waitress mistook him for me at the Waffle House—classic!) He'd never go behind my back with Eve… would he?
Well, it seemed I'd get my answer sooner rather than later, since right at the moment I was thinking through all that, I heard someone sliding a keycard in the door. I tried my best to wipe the tears off my face with my T-shirt: I considered slipping on my Broski shades but that would look stupid, even for me. He came in all smiles. "Get some real clothes on, we're going to the bar, man," he said. Not so much as a hello. That's just the way he is—gets right to the point. Then he saw me. I guess wiping my tears away didn't work too well. "Zack? What's the matter, bro?"
"Eve dumped me," I said point-blankly.
"She what? No…"
"It's right here in black and green," I said, holding up my iPhone, which still had the text on the screen.
"Ohh. Oh hell no. She text dumped you? Dude, that's low. That's lower than low. God… what a bitch! Just out of the blue like that? No explanation?"
"Didn't even see it coming. No tuning up the band, just a straight kick to the jaw."
"Oh my god. Do you want to talk about it?" Now is that a question a guy usually asks? Seriously, most dudes would just say "Well, fuck her then" and go hang out with some guy who didn't just get dumped. It was obvious that I was being stupid about her cheating with him. He wouldn't want to talk about it if he was involved. Not just because it might be awkward, but because for as good of an actor as he is, he can't lie worth a shit.
"No, no thanks. You just go on ahead to the bar, or whatever."
"Like hell I will. You just got hurt, man. I'm not gonna go off and have fun with you here like this. Either you're coming to the bar with me and drowning your sorrows, or I'm staying right here."
"Man… you don't have to do that."
"Yeah, I do. Friends have to stand by each other. Especially if there's a chick involved. Bros before hoes, man."
"You mean broskis before hoeskis," I said. We both chuckled a bit. "Just lemme get ready. I'll come out with you and the guys."
"That's the spirit," Dolph said. He got out his phone and checked his Twitter, or texted or something, while I slipped out of my T-shirt (available on , by the way!) and trunks. I usually either go commando or wear a jock under my trunks. Some guys wear thongs but I can't stand it, it feels like having a permanent wedgie. This particular time I was bare underneath my gear, and Dolph happened to look up at exactly the wrong time. "Dude, give me some notice! What is this, Zack's Exposé?"
"What, don't you have the same equipment down there?" I joked. "Or do you have -" I raised an eyebrow for effect- "lady parts?" I put on some boxers, jeans and a plain black T… much more my style than the purple and orange stuff I wear on TV. And they call John Cena a Fruity Pebble.
"Mine usually isn't all up in my face, though," Dolph said. I don't know what he was talking about—I was on the other side of the room.
"Hey, don't like it, don't look at it," I said, not angrily, just having fun with him.
"Didn't say I didn't like it," Dolph said. I gave him a look. He laughed. "I'm kidding. Boy, you should see your face sometimes." I felt myself blush, though I wasn't sure why. Oh well. Awkward moments tend to happen when you're in close quarters with other guys all the time. It's something we've all learned to brush off.
We closed the bar down that night, me, Dolph, and a few other guys. No girls, thank God: they'd probably either have tried to pry information about the breakup out of me, or just automatically take Eve's side. Girls have a "bros before hoes" type of rule amongst themselves: I've heard it expressed as "chicks before dicks" or the PG version "sisters before misters." The Divas might fight a lot, like any group of girls, but if a man wrongs one of them, or they think he did, he's got to deal with all of them. Well, most of them. There are really only four girls I work with that I feel like I can talk to without being judged or evaluated in some way. That's Beth, Natalya, Layla and AJ. They understand guys better than most girls. Anyway, by the end of the night, I was pretty buzzed—not falling-down drunk, I prefer to at least sort of remember my nights, but kind of out of it. Dolph had stopped drinking about an hour before I did and was pretty well sobered up. We were just laughing and joking, like nothing ever happened between me and Eve. I knew I would miss her twice as much tomorrow, which wouldn't help the inevitable headache any, but at the time I didn't really care. I was pretty tired and our flight left around 7, so we headed out, saying goodbye to our friends (I can't quite remember who all was there, but I remember Randy, because he kept playing 80's music on the jukebox, and Daniel Bryan, because they screwed up and put cheese on his veggie burger.) We hopped in a taxi and headed back to the hotel. "Thanks so much, Dolph," I said.
"For what?"
"For being, like, the best bro ever. I went the whole night without even thinking about Eve." Oops. "Oh shit."
"What's wrong?"
"Well, now that I said her name… God I'm gonna miss her!" I got choked up. Second time in one evening Dolph was seeing me cry over some stupid, manipulative bitch. "You must think I'm a baby."
"No… Zack, I totally understand. It's really hard getting dumped."
"Not that you'd know. You're so, like, gorgeous. Girls must be all over you." I forgot to say "no homo" but at that point it didn't matter.
Dolph chuckled. "Not exactly, bro. C'mere." He pulled me into a hug, something he never did before. "I know what you're going through, OK? And I just want you to know I'm here for you if you need anything. Anything at all."
"Thanks," I sniffled. "Love you, man." Whatever else I might be, I at least know I'm secure enough to say that to a friend. I've told two other guys that, Mike and Adam, my best friends from home. Mike always says it back. Adam's too much of a tough guy, but I know he means it on the inside.
"Love you too, bro," Dolph said. "Remember. Anything you need."
I would remember.