Im much slower at writing these than theytalktome but this was fun! :)
1. Plead.
When he heard the loud lock clicking from behind, he knew he was cornered.
This scene had repeated itself too many times with other superstars for Fandango not to be panic stricken. Many times he had denied the ever-praised leader of the Shield something simple, a date, but there were no repercussions. Before, Ambrose was far too infatuated with him to cause any bodily harm, but Fandango supposed that the superstar had become fed up. You can only restrain a pack of hounds for so long.
Ambrose's face isn't trying to force a normal smile like with his usual proposals. His features screamed frustration and purposefully he wrapped tape around his fists. Fully understanding the situation as Dean closed in on him, Fandango gulped loudly. He eased down the locker, cowering under the pressure, and shakily looked up to the man.
"Can I reconsider?"
:::
2. Found.
"Honey, where is my belt?" Dean rolled his eyes at the wardrobe malfunction that could've easily been avoided had his boyfriend not had an uncharacteristic need to clean his mess. Most guys fussed over their love interest moving in to their bachelor pads and Ambrose now understood why. "Check in the closet." Fandango's reply echoed down the hall. Again, the blue eyes rolled before Dean strutted his way over to the closet. He slid the door back slowly and flipped through the gaudy outfits his dancer merged in with his normal wear.
"I don't see it," he yelled.
"All the way on the right," the reply echoed once more.
Dean nodded and pushed the outfits out of his way, nearly paling at what he saw; gawking at the rainbow bright colors. "I bought you a new one. It'll remind you of me. "
Ambrose sighed remorsefully. "I found it."
:::
3. Puppy Love.
Dean couldn't believe the audacity of some of the other superstars. So far, most of the tag team division had come over and tried to strike up a conversation. Even the divas' threw passing glances his way for once. When he had suddenly became approachable, he wasn't sure, but he had an idea.
Complaining in the catering line stood the goofily handsome crush of one Dean Ambrose: Fandango. Such perfection. Dean pushed around the food on his plate melancholily. He was such a can't even hear Roman and Seth's jesting as they finally made their way to his side. All he can focus on is how love struck he is over the dancing superstar. Sadly, explaining that was hard.
When Fandango struts by his table, Ambrose can't help but stare, his sinister features downplaying the embarrassment his tinted cheeks expressed. The tan superstar turned with the feeling of being stared through before locking eyes with Ambrose. "Did you say something?" Dean just sneers awkwardly, fumbling in his mind over what to say. After a while, he just gives up with a thumping heart and barks that he didn't open his mouth. Fandango stared curiously for a moment, but shrugged and kept strolling.
Once again Dean looked up and only caught a glimpse of the superstar. He sighed lovingly and the sneer melted off his face into an embarrassed smile. Like with the unrequited first love of his high school years, Dean was such a sap.
:::
4. Fantasy
Tight trim waist. Sun-kissed skin. Smooth chestnut locks. Glowing personality.
Fandango was everything Dean had been dreaming of. He was what Ambrose wasn't, in a sense that he embodied light among his darkness. The Shield leader knew at the first meeting that he needed to have the dancer for his own; their engagement a large part of their whirlwind romance. Standing at the alter, Dean remembers how this all seemed untrue, and how he needed the other members- now his best men- to pinch some belief into him. He's skeptical but as the doors burst open and his husband-to-be is parading down the isle in tight white slacks and a button down, he knew this was no fantasy; this was his reality.
:::
5. Home
The long flight was nearly unbearable but Dean had made it. All he wanted to do was get in, rest his body, and eat. That was always the plan after a long work week. The lights in the house were strangely lit but they were forgone to instead pay attention to the lock he hurriedly went to undoing. Great. As he twisted the knob slowly, the calm he expected was trampled on and replaced with the rowdy riotous cheering of other superstars. Ambrose rolled his eyes to his own team and their spouses, who were vigorously enjoying the gaming console, and the other talent that had made themselves cozy in the kitchen. He barked loudly for an explanation but he knew it was pointless, especially when his boyfriend surfaced out of the sea of people and nervously stammered out. "My, you're home kinda early, aren't you?"
:::
6. Caring.
"I'm fine, I'm fine."
"Look at your eye; you're not fine."
"How would you know? Are you my eye?" Dean sneered sarcastically and pushed his boyfriend away from the medical bed's edge. Followed by his delivery of a resounding slap, Fandango turned up his nose at the cruel words and stormed out of the room.
"Thanks that really made my eye feel better!" Dean growled before cussing violently. This wasn't the first time he didn't quite understand why he was being attacked. Irately he turned to his teammates who seemed to be snickering at his misfortune. "I don't understand it. I tell him I'm fine and he has a tantrum. What's his problem?"
Roman and Seth just shook their heads and continued to laugh at Dean's confusion. Having someone actually care about him was far beyond his comprehension it seemed.
:::
7. Voice
Fandango wasn't a top tier guy. He wasn't as established as Cena, or as flawlessly demented as Orton, or as massively built as Ryback; he was a normal sized albeit handsome wrestler. He was glad to have made it to the main roster, evolving from the rather strange ruins of the NXT Redemption days, but he was still on the bottom of the proverbial food chain. He was a nobody compared to the other superstars and it always made him question exactly where his career would go. It wasn't in his hands; no, it was in the hands of everyone but him: the COO, the chairman of the board, the WWE universe, and even some of the other superstars. Jericho could've buried Fandango's legacy long before the dancer even got started. Every day was a gamble, a hope, a prayer that he'd wake up as relevant as the week before.
"Be careful out there tonight."
Fandango turned from his stretching in the guerrilla to smile in the watcher's direction. "Yeah? What's so special about tonight?"
The man shrugged and started inching away, "Maybe I persuaded the boss to give you a shot at my title if you get this 'W'. Maybe." He smirked lightly and blew a kiss to his the dancer while he strolled away.
The Maine-native couldn't keep from grinning as he bounced around one final time. While no one else listened, there was the one person who did, there was the one person who heard his voice.
Dean Ambrose. Somehow Fandango felt safe in those bandaged hands.
:::
8. Cut
"Is he still angry with you?" Rollins cackled out his question, grabbing a bottle of water as he teased the leader of their group.
Ambrose just growled in response.
Roman was the next to join the interaction, chuckling too. "Man, what did you even do to him?"
Seth twisted the cap off his water nonchalantly. "I didn't tell you?" He snickered further. "The big bad wolf over here got a little too rough when he was playing around with his sheep."
Reigns looked to Ambrose with growing confusion. "What does that mean?"
An annoyed grunt. "It had been weeks since we went at it," Dean laced up his boots carelessly and sighed. "So after the show last week, we were fooling around, I got a little too excited, and I accidentally scratched his face." Ambrose waved away the laughter he was met with and let his eyes wander towards the makeup area. Fandango, who had been sitting in the chair much longer than usual, spotted the disturbance and glared back at Dean.
Ambrose just choose to avoid further conflict and avert his eyes. He'd have to wait even longer for any action this time around.
:::
9. Impulse
Dean nearly chocked on his own gasp as he gawked at the exceedingly lengthy receipt. "You spent all this on clothes?!"
Fandango hung his head as he made his eleventh trip to the car. Handing the empty wallet to his husband, he pouted cutely. "It was on sale..."
:::
10. Weapon
If Fandango admired anything about Michael Cole- someone not usually worth paying any mind to- it was that he could say and do what he wanted. Obnoxious in flaunting the finer points of his relationship, Cole had never made a comment that produced repercussions for him; Orton wouldn't allow any violence to befall the man. Fandango first took notice to the phenomenon when Triple H assigned the Shield to the aid of Randy and he couldn't say he wasn't impressed. Cole really knew how to work a relationship.
But so did Fandango.
He too could run his mouth as openly as he wanted just as he was doing with Miz now. The Cleveland man was simply a disgrace to dance and the true dancer was certain to let him know in a rather violent way, a slap across the face. His feet fled the locker room swiftly, but they didn't have to run too far. He escaped into catering where he knew his safe haven would be, and just like that his pursuer stopped...or was stopped.
Towering by a few inches, the leader of the hounds rose to intercept whatever action Miz was contemplating. Just as soon, the other two were at the leader's side and anticipating the command. Dean looked back to Fandango, silently waiting for confirmation on the next move but the dancer takes the simpler route and "shoo"s Miz away. Mike angrily stormed off without another word and Fandango smiled in victory. He gives his secret weapon a peck on the cheek gratefully and strolls off to cause more trouble. Cole knew how to work a relationship and so did he.