Ricardo Rodriguez is reluctant, unable to keep his displeasure over the situation to himself as he stares blankly into the distance, only able to glance at Alberto Del Rio now and again as he struggles to interview him. Every time Alberto moves too suddenly, he flinches away, as if he's expecting an attack, but the older man only talks about his past accomplishments and his intention to leave Wrestlemania with the Andre the Giant memorial trophy, sneering down at the younger man, eyes boring into his. When Alberto leaves, Ricardo pinches his nose in stress, mumbling to himself in Spanish.

His responsibilities done for the night, he returns to the hotel, relieved when the door flashes green to allow him in. He sighs and drops his keycard on the nearest table, wallet clattering next to it. His tired eyes trail around the room for a moment before he shrugs out of his street clothes. After pulling on a sweatshirt, he crawls into bed and rolls onto his stomach, hugging a pillow close while he scrolls through his Twitter timeline on his phone, trying to stay awake despite how comfortable and warm he's feeling. Despite his best attempts, he fails within minutes, phone slipping out of slack fingers as his eyes close tightly, regular breaths puffing against his arm..

He's so deeply asleep that he doesn't notice when the hotel room door opens, nor when familiar footsteps pad up to him, fingers tugging the phone out of his hand and laying it on the table. He does stir slightly when soft lips rest on the back of his head, but it's not until something cold and wet drips against his neck that his eyes open and he gasps, quickly rolling over. "El Patron!"

"Si?" Del Rio mutters, leaning closer to him.

"You're freezing," he huffs, taking his hands and trying to chuff some warmth into them. "Did you go out without your coat again?"

"No," the Mexican aristocrat grumbles. "I had it on, it's just that those perros back at the arena used up all of the hot water. I had lukewarm at best, and it quickly became cold." Ricardo winces and works a little faster, looking into his face worriedly. "Lo siento, I didn't mean to freeze you... or startle you when you were asleep. I should've let you rest, you probably need it badly after that interview-"

Ricardo shrugs it off, lifting Alberto's hands and kissing his palms. "Don't worry about it, I understand why you wanted to do it that way. And as for a shower, I didn't have one so it should still be nice and hot for you, if you want to give it a try."

"No, but gracias, mi valiente. I've had more than enough of showers for one night." Ricardo frowns as he continues to shiver slightly, his hair not even completely dry yet. "I'll get warm on my own, no worries. I'll go sit by the heater if I have to... you should lay down and get some more sleep. Our flight is early tomorrow."

"Hm, yes it is," Ricardo mutters, using their current positions to his advantage, tangling his legs around Alberto and stubbornly holding on, keeping him in place when he tries to move away. As he shoots an inquisitive look at Ricardo, the former ring announcer smirks at him. "I have an idea, however." Barely five minutes later, Ricardo is now laying on his back on the bed, Alberto out of his thin dress clothes, dressed in warmer clothes of the ring announcer's, the younger man's hand gently stroking up and down his back as he breathes against Ricardo's shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he fights sleep, wanting to stay wrapped up in Ricardo's warmth for a little longer.

"I almost forgot," Del Rio mutters after a few minutes, peeking up at Ricardo.

"Hmm? Forgot what?"

"That we were just keeping pretenses up in that interview. You are too good of an actor sometimes, mi valiente." He lifts his hand and watches closely as Ricardo lays still, sighing as his palm rests against the side of his face, stroking down his neck. "Every time you flinched away from me..."

The former ring announcer cringes and tilts his face, kissing Alberto. "I'm so sorry, El Patron. I just wanted it to seem believable. I suppose I should've warned you, but it might've seemed less organic then-"

"No need to apologize," he whispers, wrapping an arm around him before snuggling back into his chest. "You played it perfectly, as always. I'm just glad we're alone now, and can still have these quiet moments despite everything that's happened the last few months."

Ricardo's smile is bittersweet but Del Rio doesn't notice as he buries his face where Ricardo's shoulder and neck meet. "I love you, El Patron."

Alberto's smile is obvious against Ricardo's jaw. "Gracias, mi valiente, I love you too." Ricardo takes to humming softly, rubbing his hand gently through Del Rio's damp, dark hair. "Buenos noches," he mumbles, seeming in no hurry to move from this position.

Ricardo softly laughs, happy that, even after all of this time, he can still do something for Alberto to keep him comfortable after one of his matches. "Buenos noches, El Patron."