Author's Note: Ridiculously sappy and melodramatic. Yeah, sorry about that.
His head was buzzing from all the attention; sentences, shards of a conversation, tumbling around in his brain until he couldn't distinguish them from the background noise. Several guys were talking to him, but he had to excuse himself, feeling overwhelmed. So many people here, close to a fifty, and all friends of his. It was very heart-warming to see them gathered like this. Nodding and smiling at everyone, he walked to the kitchen, seeking some peace. The silence was comforting, though he could still hear the voices from the living room. He looked around, peering through the large door-opening at the picture before him.
It was definitely a strange sight, all these different people in the same room. A surreal mix of old and new; ECW giants mixing with WWE pretty boys. He'd never pictured it would be like this. Tommy - with Beulah of course - Raven, Sandman, and his newer friends, Punk, Burke, Glenn. Hell, even some of the friends he'd made during his brief TNA stint were here, and they all got along.
It was like the different stages of his career, of his life, were mingling. Memories - images of days gone past - coming together at the end of it all. It was strange to see that with every face he saw a part of his career, could remember the joy and hardships that had come with that particular time. They were all there, all representing a different part of the timeline. All, except one; the face that should have represented the start of it all, and the face that should have been the never-wavering constant in his wrestling career, his life. Sabu.
Fingernails dug into his palm, the memory of him still fresh even after six years. People had asked him the entire evening where Sabu was, all convinced that he'd know. He didn't, and it hurt. Sabu getting fired, for what Rob still didn't know, had been one of the darkest days in his life. He could still remember his shock at the news, the scrambling to leave the hotel he was in and find Sabu. No one knew where the man had gone, and even Rob – skilled as he was at figuring out what his partner was thinking – couldn't find him. He'd called Sabu's cell phone, had kept calling him, but there had been no answer. His lover had left like a thief in the night.
Next thing he knew, a week had passed. A week, then a month, and finally Sabu was back into the picture, wrestling at TNA. He'd heard it from Raven, Sabu's decision apparently a last minute one, and he'd felt a mixture of relief and anger. Relief that the man he loved was alright, anger at the way he was being ignored by him. Rob had thought that perhaps things could go back to normal then, convinced that he knew how Sabu felt about him even though he'd never said it. Desperately he'd asked to be let go, but McMahon would have none of it. Rob hadn't expected him to. Raven kept him up to date on Sabu's wrestling, but no one knew how Sabu himself was doing. It ate at him.
It took Rob two months to get himself fired, three more weeks to sever all ties with the WWE and jump to TNA. He wasn't allowed to wrestle yet, of course, but that wasn't why he'd taken the job. Unfortunately by the time Rob had been allowed to freely walk the backstage halls of TNA, Sabu had moved to Japan. A fucked up sense of timing, Raven had called it, because Sabu had come to an understanding with the Japanese company mere days before Rob had been fired. Raven suggested Sabu might have chosen differently, had he known.
TNA was a good fit for him, Rob realised, but the reason behind him joining festered in his mind, the feeling so very different. By the time he'd booked a plane for Japan Sabu had been fired already. It had taken the man five days to get himself dropped, a groundbreaking record even for him. Rob had felt hope at that, thinking Sabu would come back to the States, to TNA, to him. He hadn't.
The last Rob found out was that Sabu had made plans to go to Europe, but after that no one knew where the man was. No matter whom he asked; Sabu was gone. Like he'd disappeared off the face of the earth. Rob hadn't heard anything since.
Six long years since then, since the night Sabu had left the WWE. The memories were painful, even now. Six years ago he'd been happy. He hadn't been content since.
"You know, I think The Sheik would have been proud of you."
Rob looked up at Tommy, a gentle understanding in the man's eyes. He'd always been a good friend. Rob smiled weakly, nodding.
"Perhaps not as proud if he'd known I'd retire at 42."
Tommy shrugged. "We're all different. You didn't love what you did anymore. You shouldn't continue if you don't. Just because you're not in a wheelchair, or unable to stand without crutches, doesn't mean you should keep wrestling until you die doing it."
"You still wrestle."
A chuckle. "I wouldn't call it wrestling. I just stand there and hit some young guys in the head with a chair." A shrug. "I still need it. You don't. It's different."
"I thought it was wrestling I couldn't live without. Thought so for many, many years. Turns out it was something else," Rob whispered, wishing not for the first time this evening that everyone would just leave and he could crawl into bed. He could use the comfort of a dreamless sleep. Strange how memories of old could hurt so much, even now. He'd hoped the years would dull the pain, and they had, in a way. He'd learned to avoid things that would bring up memories, had made his friends realise which subject not to talk about, and if it hadn't been for the refusal of Raven and Beulah to let it go, he was positive he wouldn't think of Sabu much at all.
"Come on, it's time for your toast."
Rob nodded at that, following Tommy back to the living room, ignoring the concerned eyes of Tommy's wife. She'd always worried about him more than most people did, probably due to living with Tommy for so long. She had a knack for figuring out the problems of ECW Originals.
He raised his glass when he was supposed to, smiling at the sight of so many of his closest friends spending time together, forgetting the rivalries between their respective companies, for once not caring about words like 'over' or 'heat.' It was a definite blessing. No matter how horrible he sometimes felt, it was the love of friends like this that kept him going. He was grateful for it. He'd gotten much closer to a couple of them, even closer than he thought possible, something which surprised him even now. His friends had sensed that he needed someone to be there for him, and even though he had attempted to push them away, claiming that he wasn't ready for their meddling, they'd managed to weasel their way in anyway. Tommy played the strong and silent confidant, Beulah the caring, doting worrywart, and even Raven and Sandman – who he'd been friends with but never particularly close to – had done their part. Raven, as he so often did, challenged Rob, wasn't afraid to bring up Sabu and Rob's past, and when Rob wasn't sure about something, Scotty was the guy to go to. Things hadn't changed much. Hell, even Hack had done his part, pulling Rob with him to 'get drunk' – as he put it – whenever his friend was moping. It worked.
Rob smiled as Taz insulted Joey Styles playfully, the 'Voice of ECW' glaring at the big man before threatening to cost him his job. They worked well together, even after they'd both been moved to other brands once or twice. Taz's involvement in Rob's life had been strange, his insistence to annoy Rob quite frustrating. Over the years Rob had slung insult after insult at the guy, especially when the commentator felt the need to bash Sabu, and yet Taz did nothing. He just stood there, grinned, and continued his tirade. In the original ECW Taz would have hit him in the head.
Suddenly Raven was next to him, and Rob groaned at the look on his friend's face. Curiosity, the same look Scotty always got when he felt like messing with Rob.
"Heard anything from him yet?"
Rob scowled. "Heard from who?"
"Don't act stupid, Rob. Those games stopped working in kindergarten. We both know who I'm talking about."
"Do we?"
"You'd think Sabu would show up on a day like this. I'm sure someone must have told him about your retirement."
If there was a point to bringing up something Rob had tried to ignore – the fact that apparently Sabu wanted nothing to do with him – then Rob couldn't find it. Raven's constant prodding often left him emotionally drained, even if the man had honest intentions. He was too smart for his own good, Rob figured, and so Scotty knew Rob's thoughts were still occupied with what had happened six years ago.
Usually this would be the time Rob would frown, perhaps retort sarcastically, or simply walk off. Only, he was so tired. So tired from everyone's expectancies; the way they assumed Rob would always know where Sabu was, and the fact that they too had thought Sabu would be here. That he i should /i be here. It made him feel drained, like he had failed and people were well aware of it.
"I'm not in the mood for your mind-games."
"You used to enjoy them."
"That was before."
"Before what?"
Silence. He wasn't going to give Raven what he wanted, friend or not. Not tonight. He could go screw himself, for all Rob cared. These ever present attempts to unnerve him, get to the bottom of things, were a sign that the man cared, but if he was a real friend then he'd let it go. Rob needed for him to let it go. But he knew he wouldn't, because Raven had this misguided conception that Rob needed to talk about what had happened, how he felt, and what he was thinking. The guy was acting like a goddamn shrink.
"Not now, Scotty. Not today."
His friend sighed, patting him on the back in attempt to be comforting or reassuring, Rob wasn't sure. He didn't really care.
"Don't let the world bring you down. You never know, it might just surprise you."
Again with the cryptic messages. Rob watched as Raven stalked off, taking a seat next to Hack as he so often did. How those two didn't manage to drive each other nuts he'd never know, but then the same was often said about Sabu and him. Or, had been said, anyway. He frowned, upset that he'd let Raven get to him. Hadn't it been his intention to get through this evening without thinking about Sabu, instead soak in the company of his true friends? Instead he'd allowed Raven to weasel in more of his confusing and often cryptic messages, messages he'd always end up trying to dissect before the night was over. Damn him.
Scowling at both himself and Raven, he grabbed a beer from the kitchen and sat down with some of the TNA guys. They, at least, wouldn't constantly bring up his former best friend. Thank God for small favours. Pretending to show interest in today's wrestling, he couldn't help but sigh deeply. This wasn't how he'd intended his wrestling career to end. And it hurt.
An entire night of mingling, social behaviour, and telling stories came to an end with the last couple leaving. Tommy and Beulah, the latter still with those concerned eyes, hugged him goodbye and left into the darkness, the last of many. The WWE folk had been the first to leave - their planes leaving early the next morning - not wanting to risk the ire of their boss. The few TNA stars had left not long after, apprehensive about being in one room with a very drunk Sandman, until eventually even the ECW Originals left, Raven dragging the resident drunk with him to a cab. It was definitely like the good old times, Rob had muttered, and the others had agreed. Only, he knew it was a lie. They probably did too.
Staring through the window at the lights of Tommy's car, he sighed heavily and turned around, taking in the state of his house. It would need a fair bit of cleaning in the morning. He checked the lights and unplugged the TV, mostly because the sparks he'd seen when Sandman had dropped a beer on it had been very disconcerting. He wasn't taking chances. With his luck it'd burn down the house, and the thought of losing his prized comic collection was just too devastating to even contemplate.
A soft knock on the door stopped him dead in his tracks. As far as he knew no one had left anything behind, unless he'd been too distracted to notice. He glanced at the room, once again taking in the slight burn hole in his couch, the beer cans littering the floor, and the picture of Vince McMahon Sandman had used for target practice. The knife sticking in the wall looked to be the one he kept hidden under the sink. Hack had found it anyway. The bastard. He looked closely, but found nothing. Curiosity hastened his walk to the door, and he opened it quickly.
The sight in front of him was enough to make his whole body shudder, and he could hear his own surprised gasp clearly. Standing there, only dimly lit by the moon's light, was the one person that hadn't shown up to claim their rightful spot in Rob's history.
"Fuck," Rob managed to gasp out; the shock of suddenly seeing Sabu here rushing through him. His entire body was tingling, surprise lacing every fibre of him. If it hadn't been for the moon, Rob might have thought he was imagining things, but as clouds stopped blocking the light he could really take in the man's appearance.
That familiar aching pain returned as he saw the sad state Sabu was in. He looked so much older, the lines edged deeper than ever. Scars now also adorned his face, not just his body, a serious one just above Sabu's right eye. He was thin, too thin, though Rob would never dare call him frail, and he was self-consciously trying to turn away from Rob so he couldn't see that one arm hung loosely against his body, totally limp. The years in foreign countries had obviously not done him good, and Rob had trouble fighting the urge to pull him inside, out of the cold, and into his arms.
"God, Sabu," he whispered brokenly, six years of feeling abandoned rushing to the surface, never able to fight back the feelings that still remained. He'd changed, it was clear, but Rob couldn't help but still feel that tug at his heart that had been there the first time they'd met, and had been ever since. How did something like that change? It simply didn't, and as they stood there, staring at each other, Rob was reminded of why exactly the last six years had hurt so. He just loved this man too damn much.
"I waited till everyone had left. Didn't want to bother with all the questions."
Sabu's voice was rough, rougher than the voice Rob remembered, and it made him flinch involuntarily because of the bitterness in it. He sounded so burned out, so tired, and it made Rob's heart ache.
"They've been asking about you all day. You missed Taz explaining who you were to some of the newer guys. It was very amusing."
"I bet they thought I was a total asshole once he was done with that."
"Of course."
Unbelievable that after all they'd been through they still managed to make small-talk, like they'd seen each other a week ago. Part of him wanted to say 'fuck it' and ask Sabu where he'd been, how he'd been doing, and why he was here, but Sabu was Sabu and he'd either walk away or get mad. Rob didn't want that. Besides, he wasn't sure he was ready to think about things like that already, the mere presence of his long-time partner enough for now.
He could feel Sabu look at him, wondered what the man saw. Did he notice all the subtle differences Rob himself hadn't? People had told him that the sparkle in his eyes had died. He'd still smile brightly, tell jokes, do moves no one else could, but it wasn't with the same zealous. The sparkle, that slight edge, had left him. And Rob was pretty sure why.
A shudder racked Sabu's body, the cool night air chilling, and Rob stepped forward, concerned, wanting nothing more than to fuss over him like he used to.
"Come inside. It must be co –"
"No," Sabu hastily interrupted. "I'm not staying long."
"What do you mean you're not staying long?" Rob asked incredulously, but Sabu was avoiding eye contact.
Six years and all Sabu was interested in was a quick house-call and that was it? That hurt far more than it was supposed to, the sharp bite of Sabu's indifference tearing at Rob, causing anger to flare up. Anger at having been left like that, and the years of worrying; trying to figure out if he was alright. He could still clearly remember a year ago, when rumours had sprung up saying Sabu had died. The way all his carefully constructed walls had crumbled had surprised even Rob, leaving him desperate, sobbing, and it had taken him several days to properly digest what that had meant. Of course Raven had been very willing to tell him.
The guilty joy at finding out that it had been a false report, that it concerned another wrestler, had made him realise that this was something that would probably never change. He'd probably spend all his time worrying about that next piece of information, the latest rumours from Europe or Japan.
"I heard about your retirement. I…I just came to make sure that you knew… That you knew what an amazing wrestler you are."
That was high praise indeed, especially from Sabu. Still, he'd rather have heard something different. Something that didn't involve his prowess in the wrestling ring. It also didn't make sense, Sabu coming all this way – and who knew how far he'd travelled – just to tell Rob that. This was the man who hadn't even bothered calling when he'd left Rob behind.
"Sabu, come inside. Please."
"I told you –"
"Fuck that!" Rob interrupted, anger boiling to the surface. How could Sabu act like that, like there had been nothing between them except respect amongst colleagues?
"You i owe /i me, Sabu," he hissed, hands balled into fists. Those glittering eyes didn't waver, even when Rob stared Sabu directly in the eye. Still unreadable, as they'd always been, and still piercing Rob like a knife. Who knew what secrets Sabu would find if he looked closely? That Rob still loved him? That wasn't a secret. Most of his friends had guessed a long time ago. No matter how often he'd wished that weren't the case, he couldn't help but admit, especially with Sabu standing in front of him, that he did. He still did.
Sabu's entire body spoke of reluctance, but the slight nod was enough to show Rob that he wasn't going anywhere, not yet. He held the door open for him, again fighting the urge to touch him, to help Sabu as he limped through the door and into the hallway. He was worse off than Rob had initially thought, and it hurt to see him so. The strongest man Rob had ever known; reduced to stumbling around.
He watched as Sabu sat down on one of the couches, his stance tense and his eyes flickering around, taking everything in. Rob could see the ghost of a smile as Sabu saw an old ECW shirt lying on the floor. He didn't bend down to pick it up though; he just stared at it, his limp right arm much more obvious now that he was sitting down.
"What happened?" Rob asked softly, making sure to keep his voice even, as if the question wasn't a very important one.
"What happened with what?"
The door was pushed shut, the outside noises no longer keeping the uneasy silence at bay. Rob sat down as well. He recognised Sabu's unwillingness to talk about it, but he pushed on anyway. He needed to know.
"With your arm," he muttered. He'd start out easy, get to the big questions – where did you go, how have you been, why did you leave me – later.
"Another barbed-wire match. Tore open my entire arm again. I wasn't as lucky this time. Tore a couple of muscles, did a lot of damage. They couldn't fix it, and now it's basically dead weight. I can really hit people with it, though. I don't feel a thing in that arm."
"And your foot?"
Resignation, an annoyed glare – God, Rob had missed those – but Sabu still answered.
"Broke it and it didn't heal properly. It's fucked up, but doesn't hurt. Annoying, but I can still do the triple jumps if I want to."
"Doesn't hurt i much /i , you mean."
Sabu looked at him, eyes as dark as they'd always been. "It doesn't hurt."
"I can still tell when you're lying, you know."
Nothing, Sabu just sat there, staring at Rob. Rob let him watch, took the opportunity to try and read the man's body language. He seemed hesitant, apprehensive maybe, and very, very tense. Not that Rob blamed him, this wasn't a moment he'd expected either. He wondered if Sabu felt self-conscious about being here, looking like he did. He'd always been reluctant with those types of things, preferred to just roll his eyes whenever Rob mentioned something about him that he liked. There had been quite a few things Rob had liked.
A small smile escaped him, a hand lightly touching his own ponytail as he saw Sabu's stare change, soften. Recognition, perhaps, or maybe he too was remembering. Memories tended to screw up things, and over the years Rob had often found himself annoyed at the fact that he couldn't recollect everything with clarity. During their relationship a lot of things had happened, a lot of things he – looking back on it – wished he'd somehow managed to hold on to. But things had changed, and at the time the mere sight of Sabu waking next to him, the groggy look on his face, the way his hand would rest on Rob's chest every time Rob opened his eyes in the morning, they'd seemed like such small things, not worth storing in the back of his mind. Rob wondered how many of those insignificant things he'd lost, not realising how important they really were.
"I tried calling you," Rob said quietly, not wanting the memories to sneak up on him.
"I changed my number."
He sighed. "I noticed."
More silence, and this time Rob let it linger. There was something to be said for easy silence, something he hadn't expected him and Sabu to have. Not these days, anyway. He smiled again, this time at the thought of those times in ECW when Sabu had broken his jaw. Rob had relished in the chance to tape his boyfriend's mouth shut and just talk to him endlessly, watch Sabu's eyes narrow and his fingers plucking at the tape. It wasn't often that Rob had been able to just rattle, not often that he could say how he really felt. Usually it ended with him saying something along the lines of 'God, I adore you' and Sabu not being able to glare at him anymore. Even suicidal bastards had some weaknesses, and at the time Rob expressing how he felt had been a big one.
"I missed you."
He raised his hand as Sabu made to reply. Nothing the man said would do right now, but at least Rob had said what he wanted to say. Walking to the kitchen, he turned to look back.
"Don't go anywhere. I'm going to grab us something to drink."
"I agreed to coming in here, didn't I? I won't run off."
"Well, you have a well-documented habit of leaving people hanging. Leaving i friends /i hanging. I'm just making sure."
i I thought I was more important than that. /i Rob wanted to add, but he wasn't yet ready to leave himself open, give Sabu the chance to hit him where it really hurt. Admitting he'd missed him – and oh, he had – had been dangerous enough, right now he needed something to get his mind back in the game. No corny movie ever got it right. Seeing each other after so many years, after everything that had happened; it didn't go smoothly.
Sabu hadn't moved much since Rob left the room, and he barely moved when Rob returned either. When offered some coffee he rejected it, the look on his face telling Rob that he better not ask why. It probably had to do with his arm, not wanting Rob to see what he'd become, or some such crap.
"Why did you come here? Why now?" Rob asked, the hot cup of coffee in his hand the exact opposite of the cool way Sabu was treating him. But then, when hadn't he? It had taken a great deal of prodding from Rob to ever get him out of his shell. Still, when he had, it had been worth it.
"I already told you."
"That's bullshit. Don't treat me that way, Sabu. I don't deserve it. Why did you suddenly come? Was it because you finally had a reason? Too scared to admit your real reason for visiting, so now you pretend it's because of my retirement?"
"Of course not." Eyes narrowed, and Sabu moved uncomfortably on the couch, his good arm resting on his knee. Fingers dug into the material of his pants, Rob's eyes taking in this obvious signs of discomfort. For a second he wondered how much the man's injuries hurt him, and flashes of massages, concern, taping each other's wounds made him want to reach out yet again. Damn him.
Sabu looked him in the eye. "Do you think it was easy for me, coming here? Fuck, I almost didn't. But I had to, because you deserved to know."
"I deserved to know that you think I wrestle well? Gee, thanks, Sabu. That really made everything so much better. Now tell me, why did you i really /i come here? And don't give me that 'you're a good wrestler' crap, because I know you're lying."
"Fine, I'll tell you why. Because Scotty figured you needed some fucking closure," Sabu snapped, the statement a slap in the face, but Rob ignored it. Raven could go fuck himself.
"He knew where you were?"
A stupid, unimportant question, but one Rob was quite curious about. At least then he'd have a reason to be properly angry at his meddling friend, perhaps get some of this frustration out by banging him over the head with a frying pan. Raven had always appreciated theatrics.
The other reason for asking it was of an even more selfish reason; because he didn't want to even think about the whole closure business. He didn't need closure; he needed answers, and one other thing he wished he could just take without asking. But life didn't work that way, not even for Rob Van Dam.
"When did you start to listen to Raven?"
"Since he started making sense."
Sabu got up, immediately causing Rob to stand up as well; abandoning the cup of coffee he'd ruined completely in his haste to get back into the room. Manners sucked when you weren't sure whether someone was staying, and his tic to make some coffee or wander into the kitchen if he wanted to clear his head didn't prove very useful this time.
He grabbed Sabu's arm, not pulling, but simply reminding Sabu. Hadn't it been Rob, always there, watching, helping, guiding, allowing him to be who he thought he was, what he thought he was, but always present anyway? Like a brick road, leading you along even though you feel completely free to step out of bounds, yet always the safest choice.
"Stay."
"Rob, no."
"Stay with me," Rob tried again, more persistent this time.
"I can't."
"You know you want to." At least, Rob hoped he did. Sabu would've been gone by now if he really wanted to leave, Rob told himself. He had to cling onto that.
"Bullshit." Harsh – biting - but also the easy way out. The word Sabu used when he was too distracted, bored or otherwise unable to answer truthfully and intelligently.
"Why not." Rob's voice was soft, comforting. He always said what he thought, what he felt.
"Look at me!"
Rob wanted to say that he'd often looked at him, and had liked what he'd seen, but Sabu continued the moment he opened his mouth.
"I'm a useless old fuck!" Sabu's voice was insistent, firm. Certain that what he said was true. Rob just frowned.
"I didn't give a damn back then and I don't give a fuck now. Why should I? And you're not useless."
"I can't wrestle anymore, people won't let me. What else am I good for?"
There was pain there, Rob noticed. Perhaps at not being able to do what he'd done for so long, what had defined his existence. The one thing Sabu had going for himself, the thing his uncle had taught him. How to be a wrestler, and a damned good one. Not being able to do what he did best, it must hurt. Knowing Sabu, it hurt more than he'd ever let on.
"You're good enough for i me /i . You were i always /i good enough for me!"
A pause, Sabu taking in what he'd said.
"You always were a drama queen. Spending time with Raven hasn't done you any good."
Normally Rob would have yelled at him, but Sabu's voice was shaky, his eyes occasionally snapping to the door. Thinking about leaving, perhaps, or thinking about the easiest way to end this conversation. Looking for a way to close the floodgate he'd initiated the moment he'd shown up. Surely after so many years he'd learned that Rob was pathetically nosy, and very, very stubborn.
"It's true, though."
He stepped forward, the mere motion causing Sabu to flinch. Rob grinned slightly at the frown that resulted in, Sabu's annoyance at himself clear to even the untrained eye. He stepped forward, slowly backing Sabu up against the wall near the TV, Vince's face grinning at them but never able to distract. Not now, not ever.
More glaring, this time as Rob leaned against the wall, only somewhat touching Sabu as well. There was more frowning too, which made Rob smile. Funny how easily old quirks made him smile.
"Rob, what are you –"
"Would you shut up?"
"What do you want?!"
"Pretend you never left," Rob murmured. He could see how tired Sabu was, something in his eyes betraying that he wanted to give in. He was fighting it, the way his brow knitted together a clear sign he was struggling with something, but there was also that glimpse of recognition. Like Rob had experienced earlier, it seemed Sabu was remembering things they'd gone through, relived those precious moments.
Gently Rob leaned into him, the way he kept Sabu pressed between him and the wall different from other times. Rob had never been too forceful with his lover, always allowing him that sense of freedom, not wanting to smother Sabu with unwanted affection. Of course Sabu had still griped about it, but that was part of his charm. The eternal grouch who would be annoyed with the room they'd been given if it was the President's bedroom itself. Nothing was ever good enough, and Rob had often thought he did it to have something to say, to be different and remember himself of who he was. He was Sabu, and no one should dare forget it.
"Rob, I can't do that."
Whispered words, his face firm but eyes yielding. Rob had always been able to get what he wanted where Sabu was concerned.
"I want you to."
"Don't."
Part of him worried about ignoring Sabu's words, about shattering the very thin connection they now had, but the other part wanted nothing more than to ravish him, ignore any sense of reason. That had been the case ever since Sabu turned up, and even the cold reaction – one Rob saw through immediately – hadn't deterred him. When had Sabu ever managed to do that?
"I can't help it. I never could."
"Stop this, Rob. Let me go."
"Did that once, didn't like the end result."
"I left. You had no choice in things."
This time it was Rob who frowned. He remembered.
"You were supposed to come back. That's how the saying goes. If you love something you have to let it go, if it returns then you know…"
He paused.
"You were supposed to come back, damnit!" he finished bitterly, momentarily closing his eyes to push away the anger and the hurt. Anger at himself, for not being able to interest Sabu enough, bind him to Rob like people in movies managed to do. Then there was the anger he'd so often felt, the anger at Sabu. And the hurt; that damned hurt that wouldn't fade. The pain of it all. Now was not the time for that either, so he ignored it and looked up in guilt ridden eyes.
Guilt, not something Sabu acknowledged often. Come to think of it, Sabu hadn't said sorry yet. He still didn't acknowledge it, then.
"It wasn't yo-" Sabu began, but he was interrupted.
"Don't finish that. Don't tell me it wasn't me."
"Why not?"
"Because then you leaving me wouldn't make sense. I needed things to make sense."
"Fuck. It was never about you. Never i because /i of you. i Never, /i Rob."
Sabu stared at his limp arm for a second, and then raised the other one, moving it up Rob's chest and cupping Rob's cheek in a rare show of affection. He sighed, probably at himself, as he shook his head in what seemed to be anger. Anger at what, Rob wondered. The gesture was comforting, though, and encouraging. He still wanted him, Rob had been right.
"This is why I didn't want to stay," Sabu said through clenched teeth, the words barely registering. Rob ignored them, listening to Sabu's regular breathing instead, fingers deftly moving along the lines of his body. He could just see Sabu's eyes on him, could even feel them, and looked up, catching the way Sabu's body arched into his touch as he brushed his hands down Sabu's waist and under his shirt. Things hadn't changed, and while he was sure there were a couple of new scars, Rob could still vividly remember which ones would make Sabu squirm.
"This is i exactly /i why you ended up staying, Sabu."
"Smartass. God, you i have /i been spending too much time with Raven."
Rob grinned, winking slyly as he ducked his head and nuzzled that one spot he knew Sabu couldn't ignore. That one spot that had made the man twist and turn every time Rob had touched him, a spot no one else knew.
"Fuck this," Sabu growled, his good hand sharply grabbing hold of Rob's hair and pulling him back up, not allowing Rob even a breath as he kissed him forcefully, Rob's whimper loud enough for even Sabu's ears to hear. It had taken the man long enough to give in.
A familiar taste, yet time had dulled the memory and added a sense of excitement to the kiss, that aching need not easily replenished. Rob didn't intend to stop kissing this man anytime soon, anyway. Breathing was overrated. Sensations rushed through him, hot, cold, and alarmingly strong in their intensity. Worry, abating after mere seconds, and that delicious sense of victory. Then there was that feeling he'd explained as many things. Affection, adoration, love. He didn't have to classify it, it was simply there.
"Oh, God, I missed you. Missed you so much," he whispered, kissing back hungrily, not able to choke back the sob that threatened to spill from his lips and thus focusing on what he wanted most of all; the man kissing him. It didn't take long for some flimsy tears to fall down his cheeks, though, and Sabu gave a surprised gasp.
"Rob."
A hand threaded in his hair, fingers nimbly massaging, moving, a strange attempt to offer reassurance. Rob's mouth sought Sabu, not wanting to bother with explaining the tears, explaining the warning signs in his head. Explaining it would mean acknowledging it, and right now that wasn't what he wanted. There would be a lot of people - probably all of his friends - that would tell him that he was being stupid, that he should think of the consequences, but the mere taste of Sabu on his lips reminded him of what he'd missed so much.
"I'm sorry. Ignore it. Please, not now," he choked out through kisses, firmly holding onto the delusion that he could stay here, kissing Sabu all day.
"I was lonely too, you know," Sabu whispered in another weird attempt to give comfort, a heavy sigh leaving his lips as Rob pressed against him. Eyes sought each other, and Rob tried giving him a smile. It was hard, with his mind in turmoil, his hands tingling as they moved across the body he was supposed to know inside out, and his lips burning. Hadn't he spent days – and oh how had he berated himself for it – trying to recall every scratch, every sensitive muscle, and every scar? Turned out nothing could ever get close to the real thing. Figured.
"Damned lonely," Sabu continued. "I scared away at least three guys tagging with me."
"Well, you are a charming bastard. Now shut up."
Sabu cracked a rare smile, and Rob felt elated at it. This was how it was supposed to be, how i they /i were supposed to be. No forced 'I love you's, no clichéd attempts at romance, just intensity, that flicker of passion, and the two of them understanding each other. He loved it.
Lazy kisses were replaced with more frantic ones, and then they too were exchanged for something else, these kisses teasing, causing hands to wander. It was strange, feeling only one hand map his body, but the pleasure was more centred that way, buttons popping with practiced ease. He murmured in appreciation, smiling at the weird look on Sabu's face. Forget about that, he wanted to say, but his lips were otherwise engaged.
When Sabu pulled back Rob gave a groan. Fuck breathing, this was so much better.
"I don't want to stop kissing you." The pout was added for effect, but the look in Sabu's eyes told him that it wasn't even necessary.
"Then don't."
"Love you," Rob sighed. His only reply was a soft growl and a possessive yank on his hair. He'd never stop.
Rob awoke the next morning feeling very groggy, the memories of last night hazy as he tried remembering what exactly had happened. Something very important. He felt oddly satisfied with himself, his body mostly relaxed and calm. He hadn't felt like that since.. Startled, he realised what had been so important, and he sat up from the couch he'd been asleep on – his poor aching neck told him that had been stupid – and looked around.
Eyes moved to the couch where Sabu had slept. The man had frustratingly refused to sleep in Rob's bed, even after Rob had offered to sleep on the couch instead, and after half an hour of trying to persuade him Rob had given up. Some battles were impossible to win, especially where Sabu was concerned. So, Sabu had taken the other couch in the living room.
That couch was empty. Frantically Rob checked the kitchen, the bedroom and any room he could think of. Nothing told him that there was still another person around. Dreading it, but forcing himself to, he opened the front door, hoping to still see the beat-down rental Sabu had told him about. If the car was still here, then Sabu couldn't be far.
It wasn't.
Rob slid to the floor dejectedly, his head banging against the door on the way down. He didn't notice. How could one man be expected to be this strong, he wondered idly, cars passing by as he stared ahead. He felt defeated, rejected, alone, almost like he was reliving those painful first weeks again. Letting the cold stones beneath him chill his legs, he sighed. He simply sighed, nothing he told himself good enough to soften the blow. He was alone once more. He'd lost.