"Are you serious, bro?" Zack asks, trying to bite back a laugh as he catches his first true glimpse of Dolph's hair, which he had liberally dyed a large amount on one side bright pink. Dolph stands in the doorway, his arms crossed over his chest as he waits for the broski to get it out of his system. Standing up from the bed, he walks over to him and gingerly runs his fingers through the strands, relieved that none of it bleeds onto his hand. "You think WWE will let you compete with it like this?" he asks, remembering all of the trouble he's had any time he'd tried dying or cutting his hair without alerting the higher ups.
Ziggler huffs and bats his hands away. "They better," he shrugs, grabbing his merch shirt and tugging it on over his head.
Zack smirks and drops back against the bed, looking at him. "I'm gonna guess this is what a bad acid trip feels like, bro," he says, eyes roving from Dolph's sneakers to his jeans, up to the garish shirt, which of course is topped off by his bleach blond and pink hair, shaking his head fondly as Ziggler walks over to him, standing between his legs with a glower. "Hey, if this works, maybe I'll dye mine purple next week."
Dolph huffs and leans down, roughly kissing him before pulling away to leave for the arena, not wanting to miss his match's cue. Normally, he would force Zack to come with him, even if it's just to sit in catering and visit with the other superstars not booked for the evening, but he had put a lot of time and effort into his hair, already gearing up for whatever else might be said about his hair at the arena, not wanting one more voice to add to the flood... especially if it's to say Told you so.
He's somewhat amazed when he makes his way out to the ring with no one blinking an eye or making comments about his latest shift in appearance, but it's pretty clear why when his match against the so-called face of the WWE begins- Orton beats him down, barely letting him get a breath in, much less anything else. His vision is hazy, his body throbbing and he barely notices until there's a loud ringing sound nearby, swatting blindly at it as if it's an alarm clock. It ends as quickly as it'd come, and he realizes he'd lost. Everything goes dark and, although he thinks he should be worried that he's lost consciousness completely, he embraces the darkness and its sudden erasing of his pain.
His first brush with reality after this is to smack his lips together, mouth horribly dry and adding to his discomfort. The second comes not long after the first, he thinks, when a soft touch brushes against his arm, something wet trickling down his throat. His eyes flutter over and he finds familiar green eyes staring down at him. "Kid."
"Hey, bro," Zack's soft voice greets him.
"When did you get here?" he asks, trying and failing to sit up as warm hands press down on his chest, carefully holding him in place.
"Not soon enough," he admits, sounding guilty. "I watched a few minutes of your match, then left because I wanted to be here for you." He strokes his fingers through Dolph's hair and sighs when he closes his eyes, still tired and visibly in pain. "I'm sorry, I should've come with you..."
"It's fine," he mumbles groggily. "Wouldn't have wanted to force you to stare at my hair more than's necessary..." Silence meets this words and for a moment he wonders if he's unconscious again, or if Zack just up and left, but then the cot shifts, the warm touch on his chest with it. He opens his eyes again and glances over to find Zack sprawled out next to him, his arm noqw curled around Dolph's midsection. "Kid..."
Zack grins at him and nuzzles closer, staring up at him. "I'm not hurting you, am I?" Dolph shakes his head no, and his grin grows. "Great, bro. If I start to, though, let me know, ok?" He rests his head on Dolph's shoulder with a soft sigh and blows at the pink strands of hair brushing against his face, chuckling softly. "Hey, bro? What I said about your hair back at the hotel- well, it really did look siiiiiick on TV. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have made fun of it."
Dolph purses his lips. "Damn straight you shouldn't have, kid," he smirks, squeezing his side. He's still sore and tired, but having Zack by his side again does help. Especially now that he knows that the younger man does like his hair, however temporary the dye job may end up being. No one backstage seemingly having an issue with it had tampered some of his enjoyment of it, Dolph mostly doing it just to attract attention and maybe a bit of disdain with his flashy, show-off ways.
"Maybe I will dye my hair purple after all," Zack muses after a few minutes of silence, Dolph's grip tightening even more as soon as these words register with him. "Ow! Bro, c'mon," he gasps, jerking away from the bleach blond superstar. "That hurt," he pouts.
"Good," Dolph mutters, smirking up at him. "You can't mock me and then steal my idea once I'm hurt."
Zack grimaces. "I guess you have a point," he mumbles, reclaiming his place by Dolph's side and lightly kissing his bare shoulder while they wait for the trainer to come back and release Dolph into Zack's care to return to the hotel room for some sleep. "This time."
Dolph chuckles softly and presses a kiss to his head before resting against his soft hair for a moment, relieved that he won't dye it purple or, God forbid, orange, liking Zack just fine as a brunette. "Damn straight I do, kid."