This one-shot is for Kelso. And anyone else who happens to ship Neville & Zayn like we do. :) Probably not my best work, but I was excited to write this out for her, and for myself. ;) No sex, but alcohol + romantic goo straight ahead~

Sami Zayn was happy.

Not about having to confiscate the NXT championship from his best friend Adrian Neville. He would have been a bit more jocular to claim the title from anyone else before Neville, yet it was the way things had worked out. Neville was a worthy champion in his time, and now the victory belonged to Sami. There were no hard feelings. Neville had literally kicked a handshake aside to congratulate Sami with a hug instead. Held up Sami's arm as the champion as the NXT universe brought the house down around him.

Then Kevin Owens had to go and stab him in the back. Knock him to the ground. Powerbomb him against the ropes. Ruin the moment.

It was clear now where the former friends stood.

Sami was fixed on not letting his apparently new contender blight what was perhaps the greatest night of his life.

"Zayn," Tye Dillinger called out to him as Sami pushed the door open to the locker room. "Hey, we're taking you out to celebrate your victory. What say you?"

"Sounds like fun, but I'm beat, man. Rain check?"

"I wasn't asking for your choice. I was asking for your opinion. We're taking you out regardless." "The Perfect 10" flaunted a bleached grin. "Pick the place. You name it. I'll round everyone up."

Sami's back ached from where it had rattled against the floor, nearly splintering upon impact. He could still feel Owens's meaty hands on him. "Tomorrow night. I promise. Tonight I just want to take it easy."

Tye raised and lowered a shoulder. "Suit yourself. You just gonna bum around here, then? Or head home?"

"Dunno yet. Haven't decided." Sami gently rested the belt on a long bench. Would it be safe here while he showered? Would Owens come in and steal it? Already he missed the feel of it in his hands. He scooped it up into his arms again.

"Hey." Tye stepped forward and rested a hand on Sami's arm. "Don't let that bastard Owens rattle your bones, alright? He's an ass. We all saw it. Just took some time for it to kick in."

"Yeah. Guess so. Thanks, Tye."

"See you tomorrow, then. Bright and early." Tye rolled his eyes.

"Sure, if nine AM is bright and early to you." Sami smiled.

"Damn right, it is." He sauntered towards the door, calling over his shoulder, "Catch me anytime after noon, and I'll be good."

Tye left Sami alone in the locker room. The door creaked as it fell closed behind him.

Sami tucked his belt—it gleamed even in the weak lighting of the locker room—in a far back locker and kept his shower to three minutes, max. Look at me, getting all paranoid about losing it already. Wonder if Adrian ever felt this way when he first got it.

He fluffed his hair dry with the towel, then wrapped it around his waist. Sami rounded the corner and broke his stride mid-step when he saw Neville perched on the bench, elbows propped on his knees, fisted hands supporting his chin.

"Oh," Sami said, a bit startled to see him there. "Hey, Adrian."

"Hey, Sami. Sorry. I didn't know it was you back there."

"What are you doing in here, looking so glum?"

"Oh, you know. Just contemplating life and whatnot. The usual locker room jamboree."

"Mind if I ask what you're thinking about?" Sami queried, moving to sit beside him.

"Just where I'm gonna go from here. That sort of thing." Neville smiled weakly. "Wonder what's in store for me next."

Sami bit the inside of his cheek. "I'm sorry about…you know."

"Sorry?"

"Yeah. You know, it wasn't that much fun having to face you in the ring for the belt."

Neville's hazely-green eyes suddenly lightened. "Don't worry about that, Sam. If I was gonna lose that belt to anyone, I'm glad it was you."

A stupid smile spread over Sami's face. "Thanks, man. That means a lot."

"What are you doing back here by yourself? You're not out partying with the other guys? Celebrating your victory?"

"Nah. Kinda feeling mellow."

"Mellow? After becoming NXT champion?"

"Might be shock. It'll wear away, and I'll be bouncing off the walls in no time. Assuming my back isn't totally wrecked after…" He swallowed back the next word which might have been unsteady.

Neville read his mind. "I'm sorry about that. That was totally uncalled for—it was your moment, and he just attacked you."

Sami shook his head. "Doesn't matter. His loss. I'm a pretty cool guy to know."

"Hell yeah, you are. And you deserve to revel tonight! Live it up! It's your big night."

"I might go out tomorrow night. Like I said. Feeling kinda mellow. Not really in the mood to party." He despised the fact that whatever exhilaration he would have been feeling right now was doused by the bombshell of what Owens had done to him.

"We don't have to go out. We can hang around here. All we really need is a few drinks and each other."

"Sounds dangerous."

Neville laughed heartily. "I think we'll be fine." He lifted from the bench. From his still sitting position, Sami had an excellent view of his taut stomach and white, blue and red wrestling tights. Sami faced forward to avoid staring.

"I'll head out to the store. Meet me downstairs in the lounge. Pick a game for us to play, or a movie or something. What can I bring you back?"

Sami contemplated this. He wasn't a heavy drinker, but he had a broad taste for alcohol. "Ooh, tell you what. Get Bacardi 151, Kool-Aid, Mountain Dew, and vodka."

"What kind of combo—?"

"It's called Dragon's Blood. It's good."

"Alright. I trust you. I'm also bringing back some RumChata and Fireball. Ever had a Cinnamon Toast Crunch Shot?"

"No?"

Neville's mouth hung open in a cheesy grin. "It's the best. Prepare yourself."

Sami pressed a fist over his mouth and forced out the cough. "Damn, you weren't kidding." He returned the shot glass to the coffee table in front of them and thumped his chest with his fist. Just one shot of the "Cinnamon Toast Crunch" mix had kicked his ass. At last he could manage a breath.

Neville chuckled beside him on the couch. "Told you. Good though, right?"

"Oh, yeah. Living my childhood right here, as an adult."

Neville tried Sami's drink next. He mixed the correct instructed amount of each liquid to construct the perfect mix of Dragon's Blood. His sip was slow to start, then as he found he really liked the taste, he downed it a bit quicker. "Is pretty good," he said. "Congratulations. You're not a liar."

"Oh, I am. You're just gullible with poor taste."

"What game did you pick?"

"Well, we don't keep a wide selection around here." Sami reached for the short stack he'd chosen out of the range of games assembled together under the flatscreen TV. "I was torn between these three."

"Ooh, Guitar Hero: World Tour," Neville said, taking the case from him. "Haven't played this in years. Haven't played Guitar Hero in years alone."

"Survey says?"

"Let's do it."

"I feel like we're sixteen year old boys at a slumber party," Sami said as Neville jammed the disc into the Playstation 3.

"Sure. All we need is to talk about a couple of girls we'd like to smash. Any come to mind?"

Sami laughed. The alcohol was getting to him already. Against his better judgement, he poured himself a cup of Dragon's Blood, topping it off with a bit of extra Mountain Dew. "None off the top of my head."

"Come on," Neville said as the TV lit to life behind him. He'd changed, obviously, from nothing but his wrestling tights and boots to a baggy purple t-shirt and jeans that hugged his hips firmly. Not that Sami was noticing. Not that he was pretending not to notice by concentrating instead on the glowing, cheering TV screen. "We're surrounded by pretty Divas by the day. None come to mind?"

"They're attractive, sure. Bayley is a looker, for sure. But I'm not the type to 'smash' any of 'em."

"Of course not. You're not a whore like that."

"I wouldn't even have the time to really date any of them. Not with our hectic schedules."

"That's the beauty of it. If you date someone you work with in this business, you get to be with them every day."

"That could be bad news if you ever broke up with them."

"Then you just have to make sure you really, really like them." Neville was smiling as he handed the plastic guitar over to Sami. "You go first, Champ."

Sami cleared his throat, aware of the flutter in his chest, the burn in his cheeks. "Thanks."

His first song of choice was "Eye of the Tiger", which Neville sang along to on the toy microphone. His voice carried through the lounge. Even Sami sang along, something he didn't do too much, especially not in front of others. He wasn't particularly proud of his mediocre singing skills, but he was digging Neville's confident caroling.

"Liquor makes me sound better," Neville laughed. He cracked open a standard beer from the six-pack he'd also picked up from the store. When Sami first spotted him entering the comfy lounge with so many bags, he'd retorted, "You trying to get me hammered?" Neville's only response was a light chuckle, not exactly giving an answer, but not denying anything either.

"Oh, it sure does," Sami laughed along with him.

Somewhere in-between the seventh and tenth song of the night, between the last of the beers and the final drops of rum, is when Sami truly lost his sobriety. Neville was right there with him, wobbling back towards Sami after belting "Heartbreaker" and thrusting his arms in the air with the roaring virtual crowd.

"Oh, dude," he stammered, supporting himself with a hand on Sami's shoulder. "Y-you know wha' they have on this game?"

"Wa's that?" Sami asked, blinking as two blurry forms of Neville appeared in front of him.

"Y-y' remember that one movie with the—the guy in his underwear, and he like, slid out to the livin' room…" Neville waved an arm from left to right. "And it was like, bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum?"

Sami felt his eyes widen out of his own control. "Oh, my God, I love that song."

"I know, right?" Neville squealed. "Put it on. Crank that shhhhhit."

"Okay, but I get to sing." Sami had difficulty reaching the song, considering it was tucked away in a special DLC list. He was mighty pleased with himself when he came across it at last. "Old Time Rock and Roll" by Bob Seger.

"Fuck you, I get to sing." Neville weakly shoved Sami's shoulder.

"Why don't we both sing?"

Neville pulled a dramatic gasp through his parted lips. "Oh. My God. Great idea, Sami. But, then, like…who plays guitar?" Neville's head sagged.

"I. Can do both," Sami bragged as though it was the greatest accomplishment in the world.

Neville snorted. "Get outta here."

"No, I swear, honest to God, I can."

"Show me."

Sami confidently started up the song. He and Neville both partook in the lyrics, though they were terribly off in words and key. The virtual audience booed their band off the stage within ten seconds, but neither men seemed to care too much as they took over the song for themselves.

"Just take the rec—records off the shelf! I'll listen to 'em byyyyy…myself!"

"Just take the records off the…oh, wait, you already sang that!" Neville bent over and hit his knees as he was consumed with maniacal laughter. Sami found Neville just as hilarious as Neville found him.

Neville stood up straight, black hair oscillating in its ponytail behind him. "W-w-wait wait wait wait. Hold on. I have plans." Neville unfastened the button on his jeans and pushed them down his legs.

"What are you doing?" Sami asked, gaping.

"J-jus—just trust me, okay? I have plans."

"Ooookay."

"Start the song over again." He waved his hand. "Your lovely voice."

"Just take those old records off the shelf—!"

"No no nonononono," Neville said, shaking his head in disapproval. "Like, the beginning beginning. The piano part."

"Ohhh. Okay. Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum! Bum bum bum bum bum bum bum bum!"

Neville ambled forward and slid across the wooden floor of the lounge, mimicking Tom Cruise in Risky Business. Incredibly, he pulled the move off without losing his balance and smacking against the floor.

"Just take a old record off a shelf! I'm gonna listen to it by myself!" Sami sang.

"Today's music is—got the same soul! Like, like that old time rock 'n roll!" Neville crooned.

"You never take me to a disco! I bet you'll even get me out on the floor!" Sami waved his arms up and down like a bird flapping his wings, or a deranged drummer keeping time with a beat. "In the ten minutes I'll be late from the—the door! I got that old time rock and roll!"

Sami and Neville bounced in circles around one another, singing the chorus together with no music.

"I like that old time rock and roll! A kinda music just soothes the soul. I'm eminent about the days of old, with that old time rock and roll!"

Neville hopped onto the couch and shredded on an air guitar, the sound of the invisible instrument coming from his lungs. Sami stayed on the floor, raising his hands in the air.

He attempted the second verse, then cracked up at a revelation. "I don' know the second verse."

"Me neither," Sami said, giggling until his stomach hurt.

"Today's music ain't got the same soul!" Neville brayed instead. "Like that ol' time rock 'n roll!"

Sami ascended onto the couch and "danced" with Neville, taking both of Adrian's hands in his own and bouncing up and down on his toes.

"Sami, I love you," Neville slurred.

"Shut up, ya drunk bastard." Sami grinned at Neville so close to his face. Neville's breath was warm on his neck.

Neville's head swayed side to side. "N-no, Sam, I mean it. I just fucking love you. You're my best friend. I'd be nowhere in this life without 'chu, man."

"You'd be fine." A strand of curly hair in Neville's face was irking Sami. He lifted his hand to brush it aside. Now he had a full view of Neville's beautiful eyes. He had so much life in him…drunk now, of course, put on hold for this celebration…yet he saw everything in Neville's eyes. Aspiration. Poise. Appreciation. That love he'd mentioned before…

It was there.

"You don' know that," Neville mumbled, smiling, but now he looked so sad.

"Luckily neither of us haf'ta find out. I'm not leaving you behind, Adrian."

Sami shifted his hand from Neville's hair to his face, drawing his thumb from Neville's cheekbone to his jaw, his forefinger resting under his chin.

Neville gazed at Sami in rapture. The aspiration was still there. No amount of alcohol could take it away or mask it.

Sami was overjoyed to know he wanted it, too.

He lifted Neville's chin up an inch and captured his lips on his own.

Neville pressed back against Sami, hard, firm, meaning every action in spite of the booze channeling in his veins. Both of them collapsed to the couch, sitting now instead of standing, thrusting back and forth into one another in a competition for dominance. Sami ended up winning this round, and Neville plunged to his back as Sami straddled him, tongue sinking into Neville's open mouth. He tasted sweet, partly thanks to the delicious liquor they'd been downing, partly his own natural savor. He pinned Neville's wrists to the couch and kept his lips captive.

He had something of an idea about what they were doing, and a full idea—physical and mental—of how much he was loving it.

Neville had to jerk away to catch a breath of air. Sami had worn him down well already. "Can't believe this is happening," he garbled.

"Thi—this is okay, right?" Sami asked, suddenly stifled by anxiety. "Like…we won't get into any trouble?"

"Why would we?"

"Will this be allowed?"

"Who gives a fuck?"

"That's a really good point." Sami was still pegging Neville to the couch. Neville offered no signs of resistance.

"Shut up and hold me again."

"Sure, Adrian. Anything for you."

Sami swooped down for another fervent kiss.

It wasn't long before the worse effects of the alcohol wormed into the night.

Neville wasn't moving anymore. Breathing, yes, but not kissing back nor making the pleasure noises he'd been making for several minutes now. "Addie? You alright?" Sami asked.

He was out.

Sami blinked. His vision was blackening again. Suddenly he felt sick. While contemplating whether or not he should head to the bathroom, Neville's warmth and his own intoxication invited him to stay where he was on the couch.

Sami shifted a bit so he could hold Neville in his arms. Within the next minute, Sami was with Neville in an impaired senselessness.

His head was pulsing.

His throat was on fire.

There was a bitter, bitter taste in his mouth.

Yet he felt good.

Somehow able to remember everything about last night, like he'd watched himself star on a TV show and couldn't control the actions of the main character, yet could judge each choice made by the drunken redheaded male.

And he wasn't judging himself at all. He was praising himself.

Neville was still sleeping beside him. Sami kissed the nape of his neck, lightly stroked his fingers over his arm. He watched as goosebumps pricked on Neville's arms at the sensation, even in slumber.

Sami closed his eyes again for a few moments. They drew open again when he heard footsteps.

Tye Dillinger stood in the doorway of the lounge, arms folded over his chest, smug little smirk on his face. Even worse, Kevin Owens and Aiden English stood behind him. Owens looked damn proud of something. So arrogant. So infuriating.

"This why you couldn't come out last night?" Tye asked.

"No," Sami stated, burping. Not that they'd believe him. How the night ended had little to do with how it began…right?

"Sure, sure. See you at practice, Zayn." He clicked his tongue. Sami couldn't tell if Tye was deprecating or just amused. He meandered off with a giggling Aiden, while Owens lingered.

"Little side project you have going on at work, Zayn?" he accused.

"Fuck off, Owens. Would have been you if you hadn't stabbed me in the back."

"Trust me, I have better taste. Than either of you."

Neville's voice came around. "Is that Kevin Owens prattling on, or is there a big horsefly just buzzing around?"

Sami chuckled. "Hard to say. Both are equally annoying."

Owens rolled his eyes. "Must have been some great makeup sex after your big fight last night. Hope it lasts. Wouldn't want anything to happen to the two of you."

"He's just mad 'cause he has nobody now," Neville groaned.

Owens scoffed. "Catch you later, Champ," he mocked. At last he disappeared from the doorway.

"Morning," Sami whispered in Neville's ear.

"Yours is a much nicer voice to wake up to than his."

"You have a good time last night?"

"From what I can remember, yeah, it was pretty good."

Sami braided his fingers with Neville's. "Couldn't agree more."

"Don't let that asshole ruin your morning, Sam."

"Never. He can't take away what I was so lucky as to receive last night."

"You sure it isn't just the booze talking?"

"Hundred percent."

"Good. Because, ditto."

"Is that your 'cool guy' way of reaffirming what you said last night?"

Neville rolled over slowly to face Sami. His fingers danced themselves on his chest. "I said a lot last night."

"You said you loved me."

"Ah." Neville grinned. "Yeah. I guess I meant that. Still do."

Sami kissed Neville's warm head. "I do, too."

"You worried about what the others will say? Owens, Dillinger?"

"Nah. Let's not even worry about them right now, alright? Just enjoy the now." Sami positioned himself more comfortably on the couch and enveloped Neville in his arms. Later they'd have to shower. Get dressed. Go to work. Practice. Sami could live at the current NXT champion. Neville could live as the former.

Right now, though…right now they could just lay and love.

"Deal," Neville agreed.

Sami Zayn was happy.