AN: Drabbles about Sheamus, with Reigns, with Ambrose, etc.
It had been six months since they had seen each other. Since they had shared a bed. A part of him knew he needed this, still another part of him hated it every time. It wasn't that he felt imascuated, or wronged in any way, but every time they connected, he felt as if he tapped into a piece of him.
Like he knew him all his life.
And now, now that the match was over and he'd had a night of rest, He was finally here.
His feet took him down the hall, but his heart just wasn't ready.
Before he could knock the door opened.
It always did.
It closed behind him, as a good door should.
Within moments, those soft lips greeted his. He was undressed almost before he realized it, melting in those familliar arms, wilting in those soft green eyes.
Once again, he eased him onto the bed gently, as if he were constructed simply of the threads of his own imagination. As if the slightest impact would spirit him away, and end this vision.
He almost hated himself for loving every second with him, even if he was on his back, with this bigger, taller man staring down at him lovingly. His own grey eyes closed in self loathing, before sighing and giving in, looking back up at the face he missed so much.
They were the only people in the world. Suddenly noone else existed. His normally serious expression fell away to his unridled joy. He had to have those lips again. He needed them.
And everything he needed, he always gave. Every second of exasperation and hopelessness reathed into that frenzy of a kiss. it was always a frenzy on his side of things. Worry, fear, loneliness. It all rushed him in the same instant when he fell off that ladder. he knew it even before it was annonced. He saw it in his eyes, then later in his pale skin.
But just as he was born and made with an indescribable impatience, so his love was born with a certain precocious nature, staring lovingly into his eyes. Running a hand across the tribal sleeve it had taken him long hours of pain and thought to settled that hand on the part that rested over his heart. As if it was not already his. Like his heart hadn't been his from that first night.
The other hand ran through his own long dark hair, cradling him almost, as he met those lips again, this time, all the love and tenderness in all the world poured into it, almost sickly sweet. It was sickly sweet, but he needed every second.
Now the words. It was always something so loving. So reverent. Always something that pulled his heart so he couldn't get away.
"Ah misssed ya."
Missed him? he nearly died without him!
"But Ah'm back now, luv"
Such a short little endearment. It shouldn't make him feel this way, but it always did. He always did.
"Ah want ta show ya how much ah love ya. Ah want ta cherish ya."
He could feel that familiar heavy stirring between his legs. It was as if it only stirred for him. More than that, his heart only stirred for him. And he was sick of it.
"Why do you always do this to me?" His deep voice shook with all the emotions he felt.
"Do what, luv?"
"Why do you always make me so helpless without you?" he growled.
"Not ta be childish, but you started it." he chuckled. His heart did backflips at the sound.
He was in love.
And he hated it.