"You're leaving?"
"Yes, babe, it's an on-field assignment," Roman replied, trying not to smile, as he packed his suitcase. He was amused at the face Dean was making. "Six days. That's it."
Dean was one of those people who tried desperately hard to be inscrutible, but you could somehow still tell exactly what they were thinking. He was clearly upset that Roman would be away on another last-minute assignment from his architectural firm, but he was trying to play it cool.
"That's fine… I guess. I dunno, man. I guess it's just… Kitchen's gonna be fresh out soon, what if I fuck up with the groceries again?" Dean asked, feigning nonchalance. It wasn't working.
"You'll be fine, Deano. I trust you." He paused to look at Dean, still detecting a note of discomfort. "…If you still don't trust yourself, I'll leave my half of the list on the counter."
"What if I go over budget?"
"You know very well not to go over budget, Dean. We don't need that many rolls of toilet paper. Please be wise with your half of the groceries."
Life with Dean was simple, for a person as chaotic in train of thought as Dean Ambrose was. Roman Reigns worked for an architectural firm, designing buildings in the more remote parts of California. Dean was a commission-based painter, whose contemporary pieces gained enough popularity that every time he was paid for a piece, he could afford to splurge on the most random things, like an automatic plunger or special edition shakeweights. Not very helpful for the sandy blonde, considering he barely had control over his spending habits in the first place. Roman was more financially responsible.
"What if I find something I just know I need, and I go slightly over the budget?" He pouted.
"Call me up," Roman responds without skipping a beat. "Because I'm pretty sure whatever you think you need in that moment, is not necessary." Roman wasn't sure if he was aware of it or not, but Dean would very often ask 'what if' questions in almost every conversation. Most of the time it was to ask for Roman's opinion, which the Samoan genuinely found flattering, even if half the time, Dean would go with his initial decisions. At least Dean is considerate, and values Roman's input enough to ask for it.
Other times, it was to be affectionate, in the only, very obstinate way Dean knew how.
"What if I get all. Eh, I dunno. Lonely? I mean. It does get that way here, y'know." Dean mumbled, stumbling over the words.
Roman paused in his movements, hands stopping in midair before stuffing a ball of black socks into the corner of this suitcase. He stepped over to Dean who was sitting on the edge of their shared bed, facing away from Roman. The Samoan approached Dean, kneeling so his face was above the sandy blonde's knees. "Call me. Every night, okay? You'll be okay." Roman kissed Dean's right thigh through his jeans, placing a hand behind his left knee and rubbing circles onto Dean's kneecap. "I'm sorry to leave. I know it sucks. But I promise I'll be back before you know it. Okay babe?" Dean grinned meekly. "Okay."
"I love you, Deano."
"…Love you."
Dean didn't realize how accustomed he had become to Roman's presence in his life. It had been a little over eight months since they moved into their Santa Monica condo together, and Roman's on-field assignment was the first time they had been apart this long. He would never admit it, but…
Dean was honestly scared.
He wasn't entirely sure which scared him more; that he was more attached to and reliant on Roman than he had anticipated he would ever be, or that he was even feeling this way simply because of Roman's absence. 'Uncomfortable' was an understatement, and the fact that he was dealing with these feelings alone was killing him.
Painting or drawing his feelings away ought to have been therapeutic, but he just ended up deeling worse. Everything reminded him of Roman, which should have been good, except there was always an undercurrent of 'he's not here right now' that would follow. It felt… numb.
Dean sighed, staring at his phone. 9:13PM. Less than an hour before his usual call time with Roman. I shouldn't call, he thought. He's probably busy anyway. Dean was torn over whether or not to initiate, especially considering how the past few days, Roman would be the first to call. He couldn't figure out why he had to second guess calling his boyfriend, but eventually, the part of him that insisted 'He's your boyfriend. Go call. It'll be fine,' won.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
"Hello?"
Dean immediately perked up. "Ro?"
A relieved chuckle on the other end. "Hey, Deano... What's up?" Dean ran his fingers through his hair, fighting the urge to grip harder. He didn't need his body to know that he was in a frantic state of mind. "I-I'm doin' good, Ro. Got us the groceries. $28 below our budget. How is work?"
"Good job, babe! And I didn't even have to stop you from overspending. How are things there?"
"They're good, man. A-at least. I think. Kinda just wish you'd be back sooner, y'know? You'll be back two days from now, right?" The sandy blonde didn't realize his fingers were gripping the edge of the couch. He sat nervously on the edge, agitatedness screaming from the angles of his body.
"I-jeez. I-I'm sorry, Dean. We got extended. Five more days."
Dean's heart sank.
"I-I, uhh. O-okay I guess. It's not your fault."
"I would come home earlier, but this is a big client, it's good for the company. It could be good for me too. Us."
Dean sighed. "What if you finish the assignment ahead of time?"
"I still need to oversee the rest of the project."
"What if you ask for an advanced leave?"
"You know I can't do that, Deano."
"What if I-Uh. I… What if I need you here? Y'know?" His voice started to quiver.
"I know, Dean. I'm really sorry."
"You almost sound okay with the extension…"
"Babe, it really wasn't my decision. But the client's promising big money, and huge promotions for the company. The boss didn't wanna pass it up," Roman sighed. Dean could tell he was tired, too. It must've been a tough client, one of those half-assed commissioners who would leave vague requests concerning a building's design, and get mad when the vision the architects would present was different from what the client pictured. Roman hated those. But he tried to remain positive for Dean. "I'm sorry, Dean. I miss you. But you'll be okay, I know it."
"What if I… I, I dunno. What if I have an accident here, Ro?" Dean offered hesitantly. He was getting a little more desperate, but he didn't wanna show it. A soft chuckle on the other end of the phone. "What accident?"
"Dude, I dunno! Just. Jesus, fuck. What if I were to die in here, somehow? Stick a knife down my throat, ram a fork through my eye, pull the trigger on myself, jump off the balcony—"
"Dean. Dean! Stop. Don't you dare finish that sentence," Roman shouted through the phone, bringing Dean back to his senses. Dean was trembling, and Roman was startled at himself. Both were a little frantic. It was their first time apart, after all. This was new territory for their relationship. Dean had already gotten used to the feeling of having someone to wait on to come through their condo doors with arms open wide. Having to wait for more than a week for that someone was a little more than he could handle.
Apparently more for them both… Roman must've been having a hard time as well.
"Ro, R-Roman, I'm sorry. I-I've just, I-I've been losing my mind here—"
"Dean. Shh. It's okay. I love you, okay?"
No sir. Dean had already let most of his walls down. He would not let himself cry over this. "L-love you too."
"And Dean? Babe. You can do this. We can do this."
"…We can do this," Dean echoed, a little shakiness still in his voice.
The lock clicked open as Roman stepped in the doors. The assignment had finished a day earlier than expected, with a very happy client and a very fat bonus going to the Samoan's bank account. This feeling of accomplishment was soon overwhelmed by his need to see Dean, a strange mix of joy and relief that he would see his boyfriend again, as well as frantic dread, hoping Dean did nothing rash while he was away.
Roman stepped into their condo quietly, suitcase in one hand and a flower in the other. "Dean?" He called. "Surprise, I'm home!" He sing-songed as he stepped into the living room. There was no response, as he was instead greeted by the sight of Dean, passed out on the couch with his phone right next to his face.
Roman chuckled weakly at the sight of his boyfriend, passed out and breathing lightly. He picked up Dean's phone, clicking it on to see his own missed calls. After sliding unlock, Dean's phone opened to a picture of them both. Roman smiled.
He knelt down at the edge of the couch so he was face to face with the sandy blonde. "Dean," he whispered. "I'm home, babe."
Dean stirred, opening a sleepy eye, jumping as he awoke to the familiar sight of piercing grey eyes and a goatee. "Ro!" He lept into the Samoan's arms, burying his face into Roman's neck and breathing in deeply. "I missed you too, babe. Careful, you might kill my gift!" Roman laughed, as he set Dean on the couch to give him his flower. "I know red chrysanthemums are your favorite, and you'd been feeling really down, so…" Dean took the flower, smelled it, and stood up to wrap his arms around Roman's neck once more. "Thanks, babe."
"So, Dean, did you know chrysanthemums are considered the flower of death in Japan?" Roman mused. "I know," Dean replied. "That's why they're my favorite." Roman laughed, inwardly, shaking his head at his boyfriend's eclectic taste. Dean sat on the edge of their kitchen counter, coffee in one hand and toast in the other. "So I'm assuming the project went well? You're home a day early."
Roman smiled. "I made sure to end it early. Didn't wanna be away from you any longer." He stood up, cornered Dean by the edge of counter, sequestering himself into the space between Dean's knees. He cupped his palms on Dean's jaw so he could look deep into his eyes. Dean flushed.
"What if you hadn't met your deadline? Would you have had to extend again?" Dean asked slowly.
"Well, I didn't. And I would not have allowed for another extension." Roman replied coolly.
"What if you had to, though?"
"Would you have waited for me?"
"Yeah, Ro, I would."
"You would've lost your mind."
"I was on the verge though." Dean began. "What if I did actually kill mys—"
Roman kissed him, effectively silencing Dean mid-sentence. It was a soft, slow kiss that Dean melted into, propping his toast and coffee beside him slowly so he could hold Roman close. He immediately remembered what he missed most when the Samoan wasn't around: these kisses, from his big caring boyfriend, and the feelings that came with such kisses: feelings of warmth, affection, love, hope for the future, a sense of purpose, and the complete absence of loneliness.
When they came apart, Roman rested his forehead on Dean's. "What if," Roman offered, "You just enjoy these moments with me?"
A wide smile, coming from Dean, dimples finally showing themselves after a week's worth of hibernation. "Okay, fine, babe. I'll stop. Whatever." Dean paused, letting Roman enjoy the moment of warmth they were sharing, before… "But still, Ro, what if—"
Another kiss pressed onto his lips, and they came apart.
"What if you really hadn't—"
Roman pulled him in for another kiss, this one with a smile, knowing Dean was probably doing this one purpose.
"What if—"
"What if I said 'I love you?'" Roman interrupted, effectively shutting Dean up.
"…I'd say I love you too. Y' big dog." Dean replied.
Roman smiled once more, before landing a quick peck on Dean's temple.
"I love you too."
Author's Note: I received this prompt from a tumblr friend. I personally wouldn't have chosen it for myself, because I figured it would have sparked a more sexual sort of story? At least, from my ambreigns perspective. Thought I would shake it up by making it angsty.
The initial idea was that Dean would ask 'what if' questions to piss Roman off, and they would have a huge fight. The suicide mention and subsequent intervention still stuck, but this newer concept allowed me to be a little more… specific with the boys.
I hope you enjoy this fic!