Title: Love the Way You Lie
Pairing: Seth Rollins/Dean Ambrose
Rating: T
Summary: It takes two to tango, after all, and they'd both been dancing all the way around the elephant in the room, even as it grew larger and larger.
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
Author's Note: Just kinda stretching out my fingers again, as it were, lol. Dedicated to my Eternal Fic Dedication, ha. You know who you are.
Warnings: Drug usage? Not really? Hinted at? Whatever. Angst.
The word "no" slips entirely too easily from Dean's lips ("No, I'm not doing drugs again," "No, I'm not relapsing," "No, I'm not lying to you,"). But it's not like Seth doesn't know anyway, he thinks, so what does it really matter? The kid might love him (might be a fool), but he's not a total idiot. He's had to have noticed something strange in the late night texts from people Dean hasn't talked to ever. And he's certainly not blind. Dean knows Seth has seen him slip away to the far corners of random clubs he never would have ventured into before (make deals with devils he swore he'd never visit again). And that's not even getting into the physical damage, Dean realizes, glancing over his reflection in his lover's sunglasses. He hates the way Seth has taken to wearing them so often lately, as if he's having to actually struggle to hide his emotions from someone he used to trust with everything. He can see the where the trust has been broken, though, in the ease with which the lies pour out after the initial denial.
"Really, babe. I promise you. I'm just tired, seriously. And stressed. And I shouldn't take it out on you. I'm sorry."
The sincerety in his tone is almost enough for Dean to convince himself that it's all true, even if the evidence is right there in front of them both, with more of it coming into the light as the days go on. Almost being the operative word. He knows it doesn't fool Seth, either, even if his lover does let out a sigh after a few long moments, lifting his shades to the top of his head and pulling Dean in close.
"It's okay. I'm so sorry for accusing you of this shit again. I guess I'm overstressed, too." Seth mutters, breath hot on his ear, nearly burning.
Or is that shame?, a voice in the back of Dean's head questions softly. He chooses to ignore it, though, the same way Seth chooses to ignore the gaping cavern that's begun spreading between them, the one full of all of the untruths they've managed to let gather up over the last few months. But Dean couldn't have possibly spun this web without Seth's assistence, he thinks. It takes two to tango, after all, and they'd both been dancing all the way around the elephant in the room, even as it grew larger and larger. Now, it seems, they're almost suffocating from the weight of it all. Or, at least, Dean is, half-holding his breath as Seth presses a soft kiss to his forehead, pulls back with a light grin.
"Let's stay in tonight, then, yea?" the younger suggests, nodding towards the bed. "Cuddle up here, order pizza, watch a movie or something? I know it's not the most glamorous of date spots, but-"
"Actually," and Dean hates interrupting, especially the way Seth's face almost instantly falls. But he continues anyway, albeit more reservedly than he'd begun, "I kind of have plans. If you don't mind...?"
It seems as though Seth is having to physically bite down on his tongue to keep at bay the objections (and arguments, potentially) that are about to spill forth, but he reminds silent, just purses his lips together tightly into a thin smile, and nods, releasing his lover quickly.
"Yea, that-that's fine. I'm just gonna stay here, though." Seth manages, dropping down to sit on the foot of the bed (and Dean can feel how hard he sits down in his gut, like a punch).
Dean gives him a slow nod.
"Alright. I'll try not to be out too late." the older says. Then, with a light laugh, as if almost to himself, "I'll bet that bastard's gonna text me any minute, too, all 'where are you?'."
But the younger is already stretching to pick up the remote from the nightstand, as if he's purposely not watching as Dean shuffles over to grab his jacket. It should make Dean feel guilty, the older thinks, the lengths at which his lover goes to avoid what's actually going on. But if he's willing to pretend everything is fine, far be it from Dean to shatter his reality, his hope like that. That would just be cruel...right? Right, he thinks, shrugging on his jacket and moving towards the hotel room door. When he turns to his lover one last time before he reaches for the handle (phone already vibrating in his pocket to remind him he is, indeed, late), however, he's met with almost sad eyes.
"Are you sure you don't want to just hang here with me tonight? Catch up on your sleep?" Seth asks quietly.
Dean falters for a moment, really thinks about it. He lets his eyes trail over Seth's worn, tired face, takes in the cost of his deceit. His phone lights off again, probably, he thinks, with the actual cost of his deceit. He briefly wonders if the price is too high on either end before pushing those thoughts to the furthest reaches of his brain. He'll deal with that later. Now, his decision is fairly simple to make. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, turning it off and setting it on the table by the door. He slips his jacket off, draping it over the back of the chair at the table, and he toes his shoes back off, crawling into be next to Seth. If his young lover can continuously ignore the looming avalanche that's sure to come crashing down around them in the near future, despite the mountain of emotions it drags him through to do so, then Dean can, too, he thinks, pulling Seth closer (and if Seth feels completely fragile in his arms right now, he can ignore that, too). If only for one more day.