So while I was browsing through Tumblr, I came across something very wonderful. I already liked it, but I didn't know it already had a ship name and a small fandom! This one is for you guys; my first Rolleigns story, and hopefully one of many if you guys like it.
Disclaimer: I mean absolutely no disrespect to any of the people mentioned in this story. Their words and actions are completely fictional. The circumstances are obviously exaggerated to fit my nefarious purposes. I also know nothing of how the backstage is mapped out, so forgive me. Correct me, too.
A/N: I believe this can be placed after their TLC match vs Team Hell No and Ryback. This is my first ever story of them, so I'll try to get their characterization as much as I can. It'll be short, because I'm trying to get a feel for them. Review and tell me what you thought? :) Helpful criticism is welcomed.
Dizziness
The roar of the crowd went up another notch as the bell announcing the victory rang. It all sounded like a huge buzz to Seth's ears, to be honest, as he laid sprawled from where he was thrown down the ladder and through four tables. Scripted or not, he had landed awkwardly and bumped his head on the way down. And it freaking hurt. A freight train running him over would have probably hurt less.
Okay. It wouldn't have. Whatever. Technicalities.
Crawling up from his position, he stumbled along, his very real dizziness helping with his act. Soon four hands were helping him up and cradling him closer. Seth wanted to laugh at Ambrose's usual stick-out tongue, choked face. Instead he clung to even stronger arms, Roman helping him walk straight and then backwards and towards backstage. Where he could hopefully stop acting like a puppet with cut strings.
A chair hit him right on the bump from behind and his right support -Ambrose- disappeared for a second. Seth's two toned hair clung to his forehead, though he quickly hid an amused smile when Roman helpfully swiped it out of the way. Ryback was shouting something from the ring, though Seth honestly didn't care at the moment, with what having a possible concussion thanks to said man.
Roman was holding him up awkwardly by the neck, making him choke a little. He didn't know whether to be angry or laugh hysterically. If he laughed, he would end up choking for real, and Seth didn't particularly care for throwing up at the specific moment.
Ambrose was yelling something back, and Seth used that opportunity to slump back towards Roman and down to the ground, almost dragging the bigger man with him. His breathing was coming harsh and fast, an obvious side effect of being thrown down fifteen freaking feet and into wooden tables. It was just his luck to land wrong tonight.
Slinging an arm upwards and around a strong shoulder, Seth grabbed onto the back of Roman's neck and hauled himself up dramatically, his steps still bustling with the adrenaline of having practically flown a couple of minutes earlier and the cheers of the crowd.
With just a few steps they were already retreating backstage, the noisy crowd fading into the background. Seth finally let out laugh, turning around as soon as the arms supporting him were gone.
"That was awesome! Though I really wished my head didn't get busted on that freaking table," he said with another laugh, rubbing the tender bruise on his head gently as the trio walked to their dressing room.
Ambrose joined in his laugh, giving his back a few hard pats, "Be more careful next time dumbass, don't wanna have you croaking in the middle of our next match," he teased with a crooked smile.
A deep voiced chuckling to his left had Seth pausing, "You're getting overly excited over this," Roman said, a raised eyebrow accompanying his words. The taller man reached over, gently prodding the spot Seth had been rubbing.
"Does it hurt?"
The touch was soft, and not at all unexpected. Seth guessed it should have weirded him out, that they -all three of them really, more so Roman and him- were so tactile with each other. They were teammates though. The best 3 man tag team in the WWE. Training for months together before they even debuted.
He and Roman trained together for 8 months before Ambrose joined them. It was only normal that they would develop a sibling bond. Kinda. Another technicality.
Seth couldn't deny it felt nice though. After being thrown around like a rag doll around in the ring, receiving a gentle touch was refreshing. Even if they were being offered more freely as of lately. A touch to the shoulder, or a ruffling of his hair. A hug after a victory. Touches that he reciprocated and initiated just as often.
Seth leaned unconsciously closer to the touch, eyeing Ambrose warily as the older man smiled slyly at their interaction.
"Nah man, it'll be fine. Some ice or something, and it'll be good as before," the shorter of the trio replied, reaching up and grabbing the probing fingers and lowering them to their sides. It was stupid, really. To worry about imaginary scenarios. To expect anything to happen in the first place. To even think about it. It's stupid. He's stupid.
Roman hums an acknowledgement, squeezing Seth's hand once before letting go. Seth's fingers twitch at the absence, and he clasps both of them to settle the sensation.
"If you're sure. Just let us," the tattooed man gestures between himself and Dean as they continue walking, "know, if anything happens. We really don't want you sleeping with a concussion man," he said, nudging Seth on the side.
"Worry about yourself, babe. You got pretty roughed up out there," Seth grinned, internally frowning as his heart beat accelerated at his slip of the tongue, "you did, too," he nods towards an equally grinning Ambrose.
"I've had way worse," was the only reply given, a shrug making it company. Seth knew Ambrose was the most observant of the three, and probably already noticed the little...thing.
Not a huge thing. Or even a thing really. He didn't have a thing for Roman. Not in that context. Exactly.
And if anyone could hear his thoughts they would probably quote something like "doth protest too much," or something. The word "thing" had never been more annoying than at that moment.
Roman smiled, probably at the stupid nickname Seth guessed, and shrugged as well, "We're tough, aren't we, Dean?" he asked, opening the door to their dressing room and letting them in first. Always the perfect gentleman. With his long, black hair, and muscled arms, and unfinished but impressive tattoo.
"Do you know some fans call you "Samoan Thor"?" was out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop it. Seth's brain to mouth filter was usually at 100% capacity all the time. It had to be, in a business like this. One wrong word, and there could be hell to pay. This time, Seth will just blame his stupid fall into the stupid tables.
Seth could see the words gave Roman pause as the bigger man sat down on the old couch. Ambrose was wondering into the bathroom, throwing a puzzling glance back at the two men.
"And you would know that, how?" Roman asked with a raised eyebrow, the same smile still playing idly on his lips. The same smile that made Seth's stomach cramp and hurt, as if he'd swallowed a complete hive of bees. It was annoying. And stupid. And his stupid stomach didn't understand that he had a girlfriend that he very much loved.
"Um, you know. Just things you hear, things you see. Twitter is full of it," he replied easily, sitting down heavily on the love seat next to the occupied couch. He winced as another wave of dizziness hit hin again, making the room spin around him. Maybe he should have gotten checked for a concussion. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd gotten one while performing.
Seth knew Roman noticed his expression when the taller man frowned worriedly, scooting over on the couch and transferring over to his side. So now he had a major headache, was dizzy, and his stomach was fluttering nervously. It definitely wasn't his night.
"Are you sure you're okay? You almost fell just now," Roman asked, his hand brushing away a stray lock of hair away and Seth really didn't like him right then. It was things like these that gave him his stupid thoughts in the first place, that gave him dreams at night after which he wouldn't be able to look the man in the freaking eye for weeks. And it wasn't his fault dammit. He spent more time with his teammates than he did with his own girlfriend. Roman being so...so fucking nice to him all the time didn't help things.
Shaking his head and subtly- yeah right- leaning away from the worried man, Seth chuckled. If it came out a little more forceful than he wanted, he didn't care. He was completely over being dizzy, and having his stomach jumping around anxiously at the other man's proximity.
"I'm fine dude, really. Just, you know," Seth said, gesturing Roman over to the couch and out of the love seat, which with men like them was definitely not for two people. Especially for them two, who usually had a nonexistent bubble of personal space around each other. In the state he was in now, Seth was not sure he would be able to control his words, or actions.
Roman completely ignored his words, scooting even closer instead. There were times, months before, when just being five feet away from each other felt alien, weird. Now, with their thighs pressing from hip to knee, and Roman leaning around him to look closer at his head. Seth was just praying that Ambrose hurry the fuck up and out of there to break the atmosphere.
"You won't be able to see it, it's not like I split my freaking head open you know," he snapped, jerking away and standing up. A second later, he knew it was probably the dumbest thing he could have done all night. Sure, it wasn't like he was dying, but the wave of dizziness that came over his whole body was the strongest so far. He closed his eyes when the room tilted sideways, grasping around him for support.
Once again, giving him an odd sense of deja vu, strong arms came around him, steadying him.
"Why are you pissed?" Roman asked, and Seth groaned. From the pounding in his head, and from the question. His headache and the hands still holding onto him were gradually chipping away at his patience.
"You really want to know?" he asked back, shifting his head on the backrest and looking sideways at his teammates. The other one being MIA, and probably listening in through the door.
A nod was all he received from the silent man and Seth was so over everything. Lips pursued, he briskly nodded back, and before he could be stopped grabbed the long hair in a fistful and pulled hard. Their noses bumped and his lip smashed against a tooth and it fucking hurt, and Seth kissed him. Pressed up as hard as he could, pulling even tighter on the hair in his hand, eyes closed before they even touched.
Roman tensed, and Seth could feel his jawline tensing along with him, the scratch of his facial hair sliding against his own. It wasn't as much of a kiss than a brutal press of their mouths and he hated it. He hated himself.
"Holy fuck," he heard from his left, and he was jumping apart and away, grabbing onto the couch this time to steady himself, looking at the wide eyed stare from Ambrose, avoiding completely looking at Roman and cursed under his breath. Without waiting for any more comments, he stomped pass the raised eyebrow of Dean, steps hurrying as the couch creaked, and slammed the bathroom door behind him, locking it.
Head injury. He really was fucked up in the head. Stupid Ryback, and his stupid landing.