Notes: OK, so this is my first real fic; so please go easy on me. If you review, I will reciprocate. Oh, and yeah, I know I'm not the best at writing accents, but if you've heard Stephen/Sheamus talk, you'll be able to deal.

"A Bit Like That"

Ryan O'Hailin was still pretty new to the whole WWE scene. In fact, he had only been with the company about a month. At 20, he was one of the youngest Superstars on the roster. He was different than most of the other Superstars; that was for sure. For starters, he wasn't built like the others. He was 5' 11" and weighed a mere 150 pounds with a narrow waste and long legs. On top of that, he wasn't even a wrestler; he was an actor. He had been brought into the company to play a character in a new storyline. He was portraying the role of Zac Helmsely, Triple H's little brother.

His original role was just to be a non-wrestling character that would only appear onscreen for a limited time. However, the character became more popular than expected, so his role was extended indefinitely. The company decided that they wanted him to be prepared to eventually do in-ring activity in some capacity for the future. Therefore, he started in-ring training with Paul. It was through this training (and his onscreen work) that he also met Stephen Farrelly. The two made fast friends and eventually became travelling companions and roommates while on the road.

Ryan viewed Paul and Stephen as more than friends and mentors. He looked up to them like big brothers. However, in recent weeks, he began to feel a change toward one of them. The more time he spent with the Irishman, the more he felt this change. It was an odd feeling, one like he had never felt before, at least not so strongly. Stephen could always make him feel better; he always brought a smile to the younger one's face. Ryan was falling and he was doing so very quickly.

"Wake ya arse up!"

Ryan was awoken by a sudden jolt and a booming voice. He struggled to open his eyes in the early morning sun that brightly shone through the window. Through the light, he could just make out Stephen's frame. He squinted a bit.

"Com'on, lad, open ya eyes. The sun ain't all that bright."

"No, but you are!" retorted the younger one with a smile.

"I'd punch ya righ in the face for tha if I din't like ya so much!"

Ryan laughed as he finally sat up and stretched. He looked at the clock: 11:00. He knew why the Irishman was so gung-ho about getting him up; it was about lunchtime and Stephen hated eating alone.

"So, how d'ya feel abou goin' ta get sometin to eat?"

Ryan yawned and rubbed his face.

"It sounds just great. If you can wait till I get dressed, we can go find someplace."

"I'll try, but I migh eat a pilla if you take too long!" said the redhead with a laugh.

Ryan giggled a little and said, "Alrighty then; I'll try to make it fast…"

"NOT FAST ENOUGH!" Stephen joked as he picked up a pillow and began to playfully gnaw on the corner with a little growl.

Ryan continued to giggle until he was in the bathroom, grabbing his bag on the way; he shut the door behind himself and sighed. Stephen was too damn adorable for his own good. He leaned against the sink and let out another deep sigh before looking up at his reflection with a dismissive smirk.

The boy washed his face, tamed his wild hair, and quickly shaved before changing his clothes. When he returned, Stephen was sprawled out on his own bed.

"What happened to you, sir?"

"Died…of…hunger…"

"Ha ha ha," Ryan forced out sarcastically, "OK, get up."

There was no response.

"Stephen…Stephen…STE-PHEN."

"Shu-up, fella; I'M DEAD!"

Ryan shrugged and moved closer to the bed. As he bent down to grab Stephen, he found himself on the receiving end of the grab. The bigger man grabbed him and forced him down on the bed, pinning him with his arms over his head. The two laughed as Ryan struggled to get back up; his face turned bright red as a mixed result of laughing and exerting all his strength against a seemingly unmovable force. His efforts were futile.

"You can't win! Now make like Batista and give up!" Stephen demanded.

Feeling Stephen's body on his own did a bit too much for Ryan. He began to feel a stirring in his pants. He had to do something fast before the other man noticed.

"Look a bottle of Guinness!"

"WHERE?" The Irishman shouted exaggeratedly as he jumped to his feet.

"Works every time," Ryan chuckled as he sat up.

Stephen extended his hand with a smile. Ryan took it. With a sudden jolt the bigger man pulled the smaller one up off the bed. Ryan almost lost his footing; he steadied himself against Stephen's firm pecs. The two's eyes met.

"Easy there," Stephen smiled.

He was too cute for Ryan to deal with; he turned away with a blush.

"So, how 'bout that food," Ryan inquired as he made for the door.

About 15 minutes later, Stephen and Ryan were sitting in a local dinner. Ryan was wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt; he wore his auburn hair in a ponytail. Stephen was dressed similarly but with the addition of a hoodie, baseball cap, and sunglasses. After a while, Ryan looked up from his sandwich and let out a small laugh.

"Wha?" asked Stephen with a mouth full of hamburger.

"Seriously? You have to ask me that? The real question is why the hell are you dressed like that? Afraid to be seen in public with me?"

"No, I jus don wanna be recognized. I'm tired of signin autographs and shit." Stephen replied while shoveling a few French fries into his mouth.

"Oh, I see. Because people will never recognize you by the pasty white skin and crazy red facial hair."

"Me facial hair ain't that crazy!" retaliated the Celt.

"Well, I guess, on anybody else, it would be. But on you, it's pretty…handsome." Ryan could have kicked himself for saying that.

"Oh, ya think I'm handsome do ya?" Stephen chuckled. At this point, he took the sunglasses off and cracked a little smile.

"Oh, shut up!" Ryan was starting to blush a little. He loved those blue eyes and was glad to see them uncovered, but he just couldn't stand Stephen's glance. He looked back down at his plate.

"I always knew ya were a bit like that!" he joked.

"Yeah, you wish!" Shit, Stephen was right.

By this time the two were finished eating. Well, the bigger one was; Ryan had lost his appetite. His stomach felt as if it was filled with helium. He hated this feeling; and Stephen was the only one who made him feel like this. He wasn't sure if he should love him or hate him for it.

Ryan snapped out of his thoughts and began to reach for the check.

Stephen withdrew his wallet, "I've got this."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asked, for some reason he was a little uncomfortable with his friend paying for his meal.

"Only because ya said I was handsome." He plunked down some cash, "Now, les get outta here before somebody spots Triple H's rival hangin out with his baby brother." Stephen then replaced the sunglasses on his face and ducked out of the booth as if on a secret mission. Ryan just laughed and followed.

In the car, Stephen had removed the sunglasses and baseball cap. Ryan sat in the passenger seat; he didn't look at Stephen…he couldn't, or he wouldn't. He just stared out the window as they drove toward the arena.

After a couple of minutes, Stephen glanced over at his passenger.

"Ryan…"

That voice did something to him, it always did, especially when it spoke his name.

"Yeah?" Ryan responded without looking back.

"Ya'v been pretty quiet. Ya OK, fella?" he sounded genuinely concerned.

"Yeah…I'm…uh, I'm just feeling a little car sick or something"

That was a flat out lie. He never got carsick. He was trying to fight off feelings he had been trying to suppress for a while now. Ryan was falling for Stephen; he was falling hard and he was falling fast. For a long time he had tried telling himself that it was just a strong brotherly admiration but it wasn't working. There was no denying it anymore: Stephen made him feel wonderful, but oddly enough, he also made him feel a bit sick and self conscious at times.

"Could someone like him actually ever want me?" Ryan wondered to himself. He wanted to say yes, but his mind was filled with negatives. Stephen was 12 years his senior and straight, or least Ryan was pretty sure he was. Ryan absolutely hated being uncertain about anything but he was especially agitated when he couldn't figure out where he stood with other people. Maybe Stephen just saw him as a little brother, maybe he saw him as more, or just a friend. Ryan was confused and it was getting to him. He liked to think he could read people, but when it came to romantic interests, he never could, at least not with confidence.

He was snapped back to reality when he heard that Irish brogue again. "Well, if yer feelin' ill, shouldn't cha be lookin' away from the road?"

He was right. Ryan turned to face the driver. The sun glistened in his red hair. Just as he feared, he was drawn in by the Irishman's strong, masculine features. Ryan was a sucker for manly men. His broad, muscular build bulging through his clothes; his big hands gripping the steering wheel; Ryan loved every bit about him. Stephen wasn't just handsome; he was beautiful.