A/N: Here's a little crackficlet about our dear Roman, inspired by too many caffeine-and-whiskey-laden chats with that lovely minx IrishCreamTruffle. I hope it gets a few giggles out of you!
Roman Reigns took a sip of the fragrant oolong tea and smiled gently to himself. His favorite song, "Summer Breeze" by Seals and Crofts, played quietly on his fine Bose speakers. The tea was, of course, perfect. He'd steeped the loose-leaf tea just the perfect amount of time and heated the carefully-filtered water to the perfect temperature to allow the complex flavors of the tea to bloom to perfection. The fine stoneware teacup felt sturdy but delicate in his large hand. He'd made the cup himself – he'd even hand-painted the flowing image of plum blossoms that decorated it. He'd made two others in the set – one for Seth and one for Dean, of course. As he'd painted their cups, he'd meditated upon them as individuals and attempted to communicate his understanding of each of them in the pattern of the flowers on each cup. They never said anything about it, but he knew they understood, somehow, deep down.
Though it was nearing lunchtime, Roman knew that it would probably still be some time until Seth and Dean emerged from the bedroom – he'd overheard the usual sounds – the crack of leather, Dean's growls, Seth's delighted but blood-curdling screams - well into the night. Roman didn't mind. That sonic evidence of the beautiful, twisted love those two shared warmed Roman's heart and made it swell with the all-encompassing desire to protect them and their perfect love at all costs. He burned chastely for them, like a monk in service of his god.
When they emerged from the bedroom, Roman would be ready. He'd already carefully prepared bento boxes for each of them for lunch, laden with their favorite foods. Dean's contained raw meat and Tootsie Rolls – the meat painstakingly stenciled into the shapes of all of Dean's favorite implements of violence. Seth's, on the other hand, consisted of a brutally spicy ghost pepper curry and an array of sugary snacks. Roman prepared an invigorating seaweed salad and a delicately-fragranced miso soup for himself, with fresh, locally-grown strawberries for dessert. While Roman looked forward to eating such a delightful meal, he could wait as long as it took. He couldn't bear the thought of eating without Dean and Seth.
Close to two o'clock in the afternoon, Dean and Seth finally emerged from the bedroom, still in their underwear, their eyes bleary with sleep and sex, their hair adorably askew. Roman's heart swelled at the sight of them. Seth yawned and stretched like a cat as Dean picked his nose, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was awake and among people.
"I'm so hungry, Roman," Seth whined. "What's for breakfast?"
"Yeah," Dean rasped. "I'm fucking starving."
Roman smiled. "Well, it's a bit late for breakfast, but I've made bento boxes for each of you. If you'll have a seat at the table, I'll serve them."
Dean and Seth squealed with delight and ran to the table. As soon as Roman served their bento boxes, they began eagerly devouring the food inside. Roman watched them as he savored his meal, the freshness of the seaweed delighting each of his neurons, enhancing the always-captivating experience of watching his two favorite men take such pleasure in his culinary creations. He knew then that there was no place he'd rather be.