It was three o' clock in the morning when they finally let Marty go home. He caught a cab back to the hotel. Turned out the driver was a fan, so he ended up signing an autograph and telling the guy about their match on the way. It was kinda nice hearing someone who wasn't him or Shawn motherfuck Badd Company six ways to Sunday. He tipped big and shuffled off towards their hotel room. Jesus, he hoped Shawn was there. He was tired and hurting, the last damn thing he needed was to deal with whatever trouble Shawn might have gotten himself into running around all upset.
The TV was still on when he stumbled throught the door. By the light of it, he could see Shawn asleep in the chair, curled up in their new quilt, safe and sound. Marty was going to write little Cindy the nicest goddamn thank you letter. He turned on a bedside lamp, clicked off the TV, and knelt by Shawn's feet.
"Hey, sleepyhead." He squeezed Shawn's knee.
Shawn blinked. "Marty." He slid off the chair and into Marty's arms, bringing the quilt with him. It wasn't the victory celebration they'd planned for but, after the night Marty'd had, it felt like heaven. "How's your head?"
Marty pulled Shawn and the blanket closer. "On the mend. They patched me up good." He sighed and leaned his weight on his tag partner. "Doin' a lot better now I'm home. And warm."
Shawn wrapped the quilt around them both. "You know, now we got this, we can never break up."
"Mm-hm. Can't be having the tag team champions of the world in a big, nasty custody battle. Wouldn't look right."
It took him a minute when Shawn didn't crack wise, but he caught on eventually. "Oh. They got me, huh?"
"Diamond. You were out, they really-" The way they were cuddled up, he could feel it Shawn when swallowed hard. He knew he must've been a mess, but he hadn't realized it had given Shawn such a scare.
He rubbed Shawn's sides. "We'll get 'em back."
"I'm sorry." It was mumbled into his hair. Marty thought about pulling back to look at Shawn's face, but he was too tired for a heart-to-heart and, besides, he didn't want an inch between them so he just squeezed Shawn tight.
"Shh. Let's just go to bed."
Shawn had to help him up, he was still a little woozy, and Marty flopped into bed gratefully, knowing he'd be out soon. Shawn laid the quilt on him and laid a smooch on him for good measure. "I'll get your shoes."
"Thanks." He'd gone straight from the ring to the hospital, he was still in his damn gear. Shawn unlaced his boots, pressing a kiss to each ankle as he tugged them off. "I could get used to this," Marty murmured.
Shawn wriggled up under the quilt and laid his head on Marty's shoulder. "In your dreams, pal." Marty was out cold before he could think of a comeback.