Author's Note: This takes place after 2018's royal rumble. I hope you guys enjoy
When the night is said and done, when the crowd is gone, and the lights are turned off and the ring is torn down - you go home with him. It's not something different from any other night where the two of you go home, but while he drives the car, you sit and wonder why it feels different inside of your chest. It isn't because he's driving even though it's usually you, though you wish you could say it was. You know the real reason why your heart is heavy, and your chest feels like something is collapsing in on it. It's not something you want to think about though, so you allow him to continue to drive to your home in silence, the air thick and heavy with words unsaid. By the time the two of you make it to your home, the lights off other than the outside light, your mouth feels thick and dry and you know you want to say something, but you don't know how to even begin. You wonder if there's a point to even saying anything and before you know it, he's laying his hand on your shoulder, squeezing it, jolting you out of your mind. Your eyes look at him carefully, guarded, and he nods his head towards your front door, and you wonder how long he's been trying to get your attention. Getting out of the car is slow, your knee pain flaring up after working two matches, and a part of you wants to go to the older man, ask for his gentle hands but instead you remain quiet, watching those hands carefully, biting on your lower lip as you open your mouth to ask before snapping it close and shaking your head.
Putting your things away is easy, routine. You open your bag and place your used clothes and wrestling costumes in the laundry bin, separating them since your wrestling costumes require different laundry settings than your normal clothes. You make your way to the bedroom, noticing his bag already on the bed before grabbing some clean clothes for RAW and shoving them in the bag, a small breath being released as you move your bag to the door and grab some of his clothes, fingers playing carefully with the hem, raising them to your face and inhaling the scent, missing it even though there's no reason to. Shaking your head, you place the clothes in his bag and drop your shoulders, heading out of the room and towards the kitchen, where you know he's at. You lean against the counter, moving your fingernail to your mouth and biting it, a habit you haven't had in many years, a habit he knows is not a good one. He stops washing the food he was going to eat, eyes you with an arched eyebrow and you remove the fingernail, shaking your head before leaning against his shoulder, still unsure of how to say the words you need to say. You remember landing on the ground, when you close your eyes, and you don't want to think about that moment, how your heart beat fast and how you felt disappointment and something you haven't felt ever – betrayal.
"You want to talk about it?" You hear, and you look up at the other man out of the corner of your eyes before biting your lower lip and shaking your head, squeezing his hand before leaning away and moving to grab a bottle of water. You know he knows you'll talk when you're ready, but you don't know when you'll be ready. You also don't know why it's so hard to bring up, why you can't just admit to the truth, admit to what you're feeling. You make your way to the washroom while all of this is in your head, beginning your routine for the night, eyes looking away from the mirror, not wanting to see yourself.
You can't help but wonder if this is what he had felt every night after you had betrayed him, and your heart thumps heavily in your chest at the idea. It's not something you want to think about, something you have put off for so long but as you brush your teeth, you allow your mind to go back to those days, to go back to when you pretended to be something you weren't, to when you tried your hardest to ignore all of the pain you felt so you could go somewhere different, somewhere higher. You've never felt betrayal before, and this is such a small amount, something miniscule, that you know it shouldn't bee affecting you as much as it is, that you've done much worse.
But – maybe it's because you're letting yourself feel now. Maybe you feel this way, only a miniscule of what Roman felt, because you finally became open to the idea and the forgiveness and him. That would make sense, really. You notice the bathroom door open as you spit out some toothpaste before putting the toothbrush back into your mouth, watching as he places his hands on your hips, brings himself closer to your arched body, just relaxing. You find yourself surprised at how even you relax at the feeling of him against yourself, not realizing how tense you were. He kisses your back through your shirt and you find yourself smiling softly before spitting out the rest of your toothpaste and then gurgling water, trying your hardest not to think too much. When you're done, you turn around and wrap your arms around his waist, breathing him in and holding onto the scent, remembering how much you love his scent and how much you missed it when you were fucked up.
"Let's go to bed, baby boy," you hear, and you nod your head, rubbing yourself against his chest but not letting him go. You're not surprised when you hear him chuckle, nor when you feel him move his body a certain angle, so he can guide you to your bedroom and then your bed. You're compliant and comfortable, and you wouldn't change anything between the two of you in this moment, but your heart lurches at that thought and you know you need to say something, and soon.
But you don't. Instead, you stay quiet as Roman places you both in the bed, wrapping you both up in the comforter before wrapping himself around you. Your feet and legs tangle within each other's and your arms stay wrapped around his waist as you watch him carefully before leaning forward and kissing him lightly. You whisper something quick before saying goodnight and then you close your eyes, praying for sleep to take you and your insecurities somewhere else, all the while ignoring the feel of Roman staring at him.
Eventually, you can feel it when Roman looks away and falls asleep, but you open your eyes and let out a breath before turning around, smiling as Roman's arms follow you. You stare at the clock, your eyes droopy and then you close them completely, letting sleep take you.
But thirty minutes your eyes snap open and you replay the night, being thrown over the rope and looking at Roman before chuckling. You understood, and you both knew that, but you still can't stop yourself from frowning, wondering why you feel so hurt over it. It makes no sense to you and biting your lower lip, you turn back around and stare at your boyfriend. He's handsome, and you find yourself so lucky that he accepted your apology, that he still loved you enough to still want to be with you, even after everything you put him through.
Heart pounding still, you place your hand on Roman's shoulder, tapping it lightly while biting your lower lip. You find yourself whispering, asking if he's awake but you don't hear a response and his breathing doesn't change, and you find yourself sighing in small frustration. You're about to pull away but you feel the arms around you tighten and you look up, noticing Roman's eyes open and staring at you.
"I think I'm ready to talk," you whisper, hands splayed on his shoulder as Roman nods. You allow your hand to make its way up to his face, rubbing his cheek softly while trying to find the words.
"I feel like a hypocrite," you admit, tongue feeling heavy as Roman frowns and you try not to smile at the confusion in his eyes, try to continue your words without seeming more stupid than already, "I betrayed you so long ago, and I feel like a hypocrite because tonight, I felt betrayed," you whisper. You know this is a tricky subject, know that talking about your mess from so many years ago will lead the two of you down a road that you don't always finish driving happily on. But you also know you need to admit this, just so your conscious is clear. And you know Roman will understand, all because it's what the two of you agreed on when you decided to get back together, to try and start over.
"A hypocrite?" You hear, and you finally look into his eyes and let out a small breath, your thumb moving towards his lower lip before you shift your body, feeling awkward and wary.
"I don't really have a right to feel betrayed, y'know," you laugh lightly, shaking your head while moving forward and breathing him in once more before continuing, "I hurt you so long ago, and I've betrayed you in so many ways, all beginning with that first rumble and –" you pause here, a hiccough escaping as you try not to let tears out in frustration. You find yourself so damn lucky that he's here, that he's holding you and you're allowed to hold him.
"But I did. I understood why you did it, and I'm not mad or anything, but, I feel betrayed. And I don't know why, and it bothers me, Ro'," you finish, not doubting for one minute that your voice is muffled and Roman probably had a hard time hearing you admit all of that. But you don't think you could say it all again anyways and you can feel Roman caressing your back and you're comfortable and maybe the older man understands anyways.
"That doesn't make you a hypocrite, y'know," Roman whispers and you frown, not understanding. You can feel Roman pull up your face and kiss your lips and you allow yourself to get lost in the kiss before the Samoan pulls away and smiles softly at you. "It just means you feel, and it means that you're allowing yourself to feel," Roman adds and you frown once more, still not understanding. You can see that Roman acknowledges that and he pulls away, sitting up in the bed before pulling you closer, your back against his chest, arms wrapping around you and holding you against him.
"It means, baby boy, that you feel the guilt, and you're allowing yourself to feel the things we felt," Roman whispers into his ear and you bite your lip, finally understanding, a little bit, as you tilt your head up and look at him.
"But you had a –"
"I did. And we both know it doesn't change anything with us. But after you tried to eliminate me from that first rumble, did you ever allow yourself to really feel guilty about it? Or when you turned against us, and had a persona to reflect? You never did, but you are now so even the smallest things will make you feel a little guilty, love," Roman whispers, his fingers running through your hair, causing you to moan. You finally understand and as your eyes flutter close and your breathing slows down, you know that the older man is right.
"You know I'm sorry, right?" You whisper, biting your lower lip as Roman snorts.
"I know, baby boy. You've mentioned it a lot. And we have a lot to work on but trust me when I say, it's alright." He whispers and your heart stops pounding heavily in your chest as you move your body so you're sitting in his lap completely before kissing him, your hands surrounding his face, pulling him in closer as you both lose yourself in this kiss and forget everything that needs to be forgotten.