Don't You Let Go of Me
It had been weeks since he'd last been at his place, Sabu realised, the thought only occurring to him because of the expiration date on all of his favourite midnight-snacks. He'd have to throw them out, toss them in one of the various dumpsters outside. That habit of his, disliking other people touching his food, meant he always had to do it himself, instead of allowing the woman that watered his plans to do it. She was a fussy woman, not unlike Rob, and often took it upon herself to brighten the place up, even going as far as changing the curtains and cleaning places he didn't know existed. He usually didn't care, it was actually rather interesting to see what she'd found this time while snooping around in his drawers. He lived on the road; she wouldn't find anything of worth anyway.
Rob had immediately dashed forward, they didn't have much time, leaving Sabu behind and moving towards the run-down desk Sabu sometimes used to answer fanmail at. He didn't do it often, the answering of fanmail, as his character didn't really inspire much interest from young teenage girls, and didn't really enjoy it. He'd done it more often, though, ever since he had caught Rob answering it for him instead, the thought of people thinking he was into My Little Pony – Rob having said as much to the ten year old girl that had send Sabu something – not all too pleasant. It had amused Rob greatly, which in itself had caused Sabu to walk around with a scowl on his face. Why people thought Rob was the nicer of the two he'd never know, the guy was entirely too devious.
This time the desk carried two mouldy looking boxes, one of which had already been dropped on the floor by Rob. Initially Sabu didn't recognise them, but the moment Rob held up an old leaflet – both their ringnames adorned proudly at the top – he remember what it was. Those boxes held most of his old merchandise, and things he'd been sent by fans. Pictures, posters, even the odd pamphlet, he'd all thrown them in there, forgetting about them afterwards. Eventually he'd been forced to use a second one, and a third, though the latter one had been thrown out ages ago. He really didn't want to remember his time in the WWE.
Sabu sighed, watching as Rob fished deep on the box and pulled out a rather ancient picture some fan had wanted signed, but Sabu had forgotten. He would have felt guilty about that, had it not been for the fan being unnecessary rude. He knew he wasn't exactly attractive; he didn't need people telling him that while asking for his autograph.
"Wow, you look so different."
The little tremor in Rob's voice made Sabu look up, the amazement on his partner's face enough to make him curious. Curious, yet slightly worried. He usually was, especially when it concerned pictures of his or other personal things.
"I know. It's called time, Rob."
Rob looked up at him, a frown on his face. No doubt he'd sounded annoyed, the curiosity in Rob's eyes warning him that he'd better prepare for some deep and meaningful questions. That was Rob, too curious for his own good when it involved how Sabu's mind worked.
"No need to get huffy," Rob commented, the picture still in his hand. Sabu chose not to respond, instead staring at himself. So different, none of the scars there yet, and his eyes hungry. His memory was forever ruined, images mixing, scenes interloping, so he couldn't be sure when this had been, but it surprised him how fascinated Rob was with the image of a young Sabu. It annoyed him, deep down, to see Rob so interested in someone he no longer recognised.
"How long ago was this?" Rob asked, fingers delicately brushing the surface of the pictures.
"Don't know."
"Don't know, or don't care?"
Damn Rob and his never-ending curiosity. Sabu frowned, arms folded as he watched Rob sit down more comfortably, obviously intending to go through the entire box. Or at least until Sabu snapped. Instead he kept quiet, not giving Rob what he wanted. He knew he'd push and prod, but right now Sabu didn't intend to fuel Rob's curiosity any. He'd learned how things worked long ago, and he'd be better off by staying silent.
Finally Rob put the picture down, raising his eyebrow at Sabu before showing him another picture. This time of the two of them, from one of their first matches in ECW. He looked more like himself now, fittingly scarred and annoyed, though Rob looked younger. For a second Sabu wondered what Rob saw when he looked at himself, saw how the business had changed him, but he knew that if anyone knew how Rob's career hadn't been what he thought it'd be, then it was Rob himself. Knowing him he'd have thought through all of the possibilities, the consequences, and found he couldn't have done anything different.
"Strange, how things have changed."
Rob's voice sounded distant, like he was remembering things, considering something that had happened ages ago. Perhaps he was thinking about that match, what had happened, what had gone wrong. Sabu just grunted, but it was enough to coax another reply out of Rob.
"You know, I was so nervous every time we had a match. I always thought I'd disappoint you."
That was beyond silly, but Sabu didn't tell him that. There was something to be said about the sense of pride that Sabu felt, remembering those days, as well as the slight tightening in his chest as he realised how much Rob had valued his opinion, even back then. Sighing, he grabbed the other box, looking in to see it filled to the brim with pictures. He tried to distract himself, casually pushing around different images, not really seeing them. Then his eyes caught sight of another picture from the ECW days, again of the two of them.
It looked like a candid, probably taken by Fonzie during one of their photo-shoots. Rob was wearing one of Sabu's shirts, like he used to do back in the day, and his hand was on Sabu's shoulder. Sabu himself was of course pointing to the ceiling, eyes upward. It was a familiar scene, one of those required photo shoots he'd so abhorred. There was something different about Rob's expression though; his lazy smile so unlike the cocky-as-shit smirk he wore when it wasn't a friend that was taking the pictures, and when he knew the picture would show up on magazines or on websites. This one was more personal, more comfortable, and the way Rob was leaning into him betrayed familiarity. Things had been very different back then, yet as Sabu looked back, things had also stayed the same.
Regarding the various items with indifference, he turned his head and watched as his partner took out more and more memorabilia, until eventually pictures, posters and t-shirts littered the floor. In the centre of it all sat Rob, eyes darting from one image to another, hands picking up things to give them a closer look. He looked fascinated by it all, but Sabu couldn't understand why. Why this interest in something that was so different from how they were now. He didn't really need to think about a time when things between Rob and him were strained, or alright at best. He much preferred how things were now, though he'd never admit it.
He grabbed another picture, not wanting to be caught staring, eying it with annoyance as he realised which one it was. It had been taken right after he'd left the hospital, the countless of stitches keeping his skin together courtesy of that infamous match with Terry Funk. The ragged look of his arm made him scowl, though he'd seen it before. It wasn't the wound that made him want to tear the picture to pieces, but the memory of the look in Rob's eyes the moment he saw it up close, the mix of shock and what Sabu figured was distaste, in those expressive eyes of his. It had almost made him feel sick.
"You had me worried that day."
Rob's presence behind him – he'd always been too quiet for his own good – almost made Sabu flinch, not because it was Rob, or because he'd been startled, but because Rob had caught sight of the picture, and it wasn't a memory he wanted him to relive.
"You worry too much. You did then, and you do now."
"I know, I know, I'm a worrywart. Has to do with your suicidal tendencies, though."
Several pictures followed, all more annoying than the next. Lots of them had only been taken because Sabu had injured himself spectacularly, the merest hint of Rob in the background causing Sabu to remember the odd look in the man's eyes. He looked up, sighing softly at the way Rob's lips moved, the words not even registering. It was so much more pleasant to be distracted by that than the painful memories of days gone past.
"Sabu!"
It startled him, the glare an immediate reaction to the rude interrupting of his daydreaming. He was entitled to some; most of them were rather gloomy.
"What?"
Rob leaned into him, causing Sabu to frown. What was he up to?
"Stop staring at me. Just kiss me, if that's what you're after."
"Rob, stop distracting me. I need to throw these things out."
"No, you don't. Go on, kiss me. I know you want to."
"Cocky bastard," he muttered, the chuckle that elicited from Rob causing the all too familiar tug at his heart. Damn him.
"Kiss me."
"You're a pushy fucker."
"I know." Again that chuckle. Had it been anyone else that would have annoyed the crap out of him, the comments coming across as arrogant, but this was Rob. Truth was, he was right, and they both knew it. Didn't mean Sabu had to give in, though. He reached for the four pictures Rob was still clutching, but again Rob kept them just out of reach, turning and twisting every time Sabu thought he had them.
"You're not supposed to be able to resist me, you know."
"Trust me; you make it very easy for me."
Eventually Sabu managed to take them from Rob, gathering the rest together as well. Rob watched, arms crossed in defiance, his annoyed stance showing that Sabu had done something to displease him. Instead of asking what, Sabu chose to make another meaningless comment.
"I should throw these away." It was a mutter, nothing more, but Rob heard it anyway.
"You're actually serious, aren't you. Why, Sabu?"
"It's just trash."
"No, it's not. It's your entire life, your legacy, you can't throw these away."
"It means nothing."
"It means everything."
He looked Rob in the eye, the earnest obvious in his partner's voice, the stubborn edge to it indicating that he was missing something. No doubt there was some sort of hidden meaning behind Rob's insistent prodding, something he should understand.
"It's just trash, Rob."
"Not to me."
He'd expected an explanation by now, some sort of reason why pictures of the past were so very important. There were a few there that he'd like to keep, sure, but he didn't particularly enjoy seeing himself change drastically over time. Hell, he avoided mirrors for a reason.
"Why not?"
"You know why."
"No, I don't."
Silence was all that greeted him. It confused him, this silent Rob so unlike the one he was used to. Why was he not being tested? Where were the questions that would usually try and guide him into the right direction, the off-handed comments that meant more than everything else Rob said, where were those? He almost missed the pushing; his worry to fail spectacularly growing with every blink of Rob's questioning eyes. He could i deal /i with the prodding, not with these expectancies he couldn't live up to. He felt his body shudder at the thought. One of these days his failure to read these situations would drive Rob away from him.
He prayed for the prodding to return. It was what had defined them.
Rob's prodding and poking, as relentless then as it sometimes was now, had been the only reason Sabu ever gave in. It had been Rob that started what they had, it had been Rob that had said how he felt, and Rob that always pieced Sabu together when he felt at his worst. Mentally, physically, but most of all emotionally. He thought of at that one picture, of himself all alone, before anything had happened, before everything. It made his body grow cold.
Suddenly he couldn't help himself, hands clutching at Rob as he pulled him forward, the warmth of Rob's body against his own causing him to relax, the small tremors he'd felt earlier dissipating as arms closed around him. Usually he'd make a comment about that, cuddling of any kind not his style and hating the feeling of being trapped, especially because acting needy was the last thing he'd expected of himself, but not now. Right now the weight of Rob's body leaning against him proved to be comforting, a sure sign that things i weren't /i as they had been, nothing keeping Sabu from once in a while acting on his impulses. He wasn't above comfort, not from Rob, but this had been strange, even for him.
It was one of those rare occasions, Sabu noted, where Rob kept quiet, the other man's breath against his neck enough evidence that he was there. As soon as Sabu felt the flurry of worry subside, his body tensed, his earlier actions suddenly seeming way too out of character and childish to him. Luckily Rob seemed too surprised to make fun of him, and as Sabu pulled back Rob let him, arms willingly allowing the other to leave. It was for the best, because Sabu felt too uncomfortable and out of it to bring up any valid arguments. He knew he'd end up forcing Rob, had his partner not realised the need to back off. It wouldn't do to have a fight because of Sabu's unnecessary worrying.
He could feel Rob's eyes follow him, adding to the already tense atmosphere. He wandered into the kitchen, only barely registering that Rob wasn't following. Not yet, anyway, he was way too curious not to. Sabu leaned against the sink, hands turning the tap and eyes watching as water fell in noisy splashes to the sink below. It was better than having to listen to his own confused thoughts. Eventually he listened to his inner Rob telling him to stop wasting water, thus filling a glass and downing it all in one gulp, the silence afterwards deafening to his ears.
"Are you going to tell me what that was all about?"
There was a hesitant tone to Rob's question, one Sabu had expected. His actions hadn't been like him, and he was pretty sure it had left Rob confused. What he'd been doing while Sabu had been busy allowing gallons of water pour down the sink, he didn't know, but it had probably included self-reflection and some sort of Zen like way of thinking.
"No," he answered, his voice rough even to his own ears. And after drinking water, too.
"I figured."
Rob was standing next to him now; Sabu could see it in the window above the sink. He also felt it, his body somehow recognizing his partner's. Probably something that had to do with energy, positive and negative, yin and yang, or whatever Rob was on about this time.
The calmness of the man besides him had stopped surprising him long ago, the fact that Sabu didn't want to share not even appearing to faze him. It was one of the reasons Tommy had said, not too long ago, that Rob was made to be around him. Friend or otherwise, there were few people that could deal as well with him as Rob did. Matter of fact, he couldn't think of any. This quality was one Sabu appreciated the most. Rob allowed him to be who he was, only occasionally asking for a little bit more. Gradually things changed, but every time it was necessary Rob allowed him to revert back to his old ways of dealing with things.
He looked at him, taking in the relaxed face, the eyes looking at movement outside, and the way one lock of hair was obnoxiously dangling over Rob's ear. He knew the reason for it, having hassled Rob about hurrying up that very morning, leaving Rob to forget about that particular tuft of hair. Rob let him look, because Sabu was well aware that he was being entirely too obvious. Rob didn't move, though, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. By the time Sabu had let his eyes wander from his eyes to his mouth and back again the smile had grown.
There was a sudden impulse to kiss those lips, but instead Sabu chose a different path. One he knew would surprise Rob as much, if not more, than any unexpected act.
"Kiss me."
"What?" Rob asked, amused. "That sounds familiar. Are we playing role-reversal? Because I could swear –"
"Rob!" he interrupted, watching the easy smile slip, the seriousness kicking in as Rob actually realised what Sabu was asking. Sabu hardly ever asked, definitely didn't make the first move, and the mere idea of it must have boggled Rob's mind.
"Kiss me," he whispered, catching the tremor coursing through Rob's body. He could just see the different emotions tumble around in Rob's eyes, his brain not getting the time to process it as he felt Rob lean in, pressing him lightly against the kitchen sink. It wasn't rough enough to pin Sabu down, but it did show Rob's intentions. The way Rob's breath ghosted over his skin – warm, familiar – caused his breath to hitch, hands tightening their grip on the edge of his sink. Strange how often his breath caught when Rob was around.
"Yes." It hadn't been a question, yet at the same time it had. And Rob had answered.
Sabu's body shuddered, betraying him once again, as he lost himself in the sensation of Rob's hot mouth on his, that familiar taste flooding his senses, hands caressing him like an artist would his latest masterpiece. The gentle way Rob touched him confused Sabu, but Rob seemed content with it, something about his body posture telling Sabu that he better not challenge it. They didn't have long, this little excursion only meant to check up on the house's well-being, but Sabu knew that it was enough, the feel of Rob against him i always /i enough.
It was one of those moments again; times something important happened that only Rob seemed to fully understand. The difference was, this time Sabu thought he had it figured out. Still, he could be wrong. The best course of action would be to let it take its course, for he was sure Rob would eventually explain. He always did.