A gentle sound echoed from the suspended chimes, that hung from the string wrapped around the nail on the door. The interior of the establishment was slightly darkened by the wooden blinds that had been put down by the owner. He walked to those first, and having shifted aside a few chairs to make room, took his time and opened them to reveal the brightness of another sunny day. A small smile came over his face as he looked outside the windows at the town and beyond. However, the smile fell once his eyes landed on the brick building across the road. To the change in mood, he turned away and quickly threw down his bag into one of the nearby empty chairs – taking the time to sit at the equally empty table with his back facing the window and his eyes now facing the large vinyl counter a few feet ahead.
The dregs of a long silence drifted on by the longer he sat mulling over his general annoyance. As he did, his mind wandered over a few of the culprits responsible for muddying his otherwise good mood. To start, there was a test coming up on a subject he cared little for, with a teacher he cared even less about. Somewhere in the middle of his problems, buried under the worry of how best to rescue his floundering grades, stood Roman Reigns. The ranking seemed unfair the longer he thought about it. Roman, after all, was always the root of his problems when it came to his mood, and so he quickly rearranged the list being created in his mind. At the start was Roman Reigns. Then there was that math test. Once again he delved deeper on the arrangement of his list of mood-thieving culprits. Roman was certainly number one in that respect, but he wasn't the only reason this time around. No this time, he thought, Roman now had friends. Just the one to be exact, but even then – based on Roman's unwillingness to properly put a title to it – that title was up for debate. Dean Ambrose, as far as he knew him, was nothing more than a stranger who showed up and took over Roman's bedroom, kitchen and balcony. Pretty much, the living space that he and Roman had shared these past seven years had been invaded by a no-rank no-title blonde.
Most times, he never complained about what Roman chose to do or say, or not do and not say. The reasons behind such obedience and compliance could never truly be narrowed down to just one, nor could they be categorized and then listed for review. Indeed, if he had to say what made him tolerate Roman's most recent behavior, the simple answer would be love. He loved Roman Reigns, and for that, he would do anything and be everything for Roman Reigns. With the mysterious Dean Ambrose suddenly entered into the picture and allowed to stay with no real explanation, the only thing he could be for Roman was the understanding party. Be upbeat, carefree, and full of smiles – everything that Roman had come to expect in his own behavior. He had to be just what Roman knew, and nothing else, because being something else would end him back on the road he took to get here. And he wasn't going back there. Come hell or high water.
"I like how you've made this place your second home, Seth" The low voice echoed through the space with sarcasm dripping from its tongue. Seth looked up at the door behind the counter – watching as it swung shut. "What brings you by this time?"
"I like your pancakes." He smiled coyly as he leaned forward across the table. "And the quiet."
"What, Jesse and Brandon finally starting to get to you?" The man spoke as he put on the coffee pot.
"Those brats are the least of my worries." Seth spoke with an arrogant tone, before planting his face on the tabletop.
"You're a brat too you know." The pot began to rattle lightly as its contents boiled to the heat. Having looked in the cupboards behind the large breakfast bar, the man brought to the surface two mugs – one red and one white. "I've had to leave the door open just to avoid you knocking every waking morning. Give me back my peaceful mornings, you brat" He waited for a comeback, but got none – a reaction that garnered his hard attention. "What's eating you?"
"I hate him." Seth spoke through the table – distorting his voice as he did.
The man sighed heavily before turning his attention back to the coffee pot. He took it off the burner and carefully poured the liquid into both mugs. The pot returned to the back counter empty, as he fished about for cream and sugar. With his body turned towards the younger brunette, the man added equal amounts of cream and sugar to both mugs. After stirring them both, he walked over casually towards the table, and sat in the space ahead of Seth.
Silence encompassed both men, before the oldest took the white cup in hand and took a sip of his hot coffee – stressing on the heat of the drink as he did. After drinking down a first taste to knock the lingering sleep out of him, he edged forward the red mug until it tapped against Seth's head. The brunette looked up to find the color red staring directly back at him. Slowly, he sat back up and took the warm mug in hand – drinking the coffee once it was brought to his lips. With grey-blue eyes watching the young man, the older man soon sat back laxly in the chair as he looked out beyond the large window to find the brick building across the street staring back.
"I can see Roman looking over here." A small grin slid over his face as he pushed the cup of coffee gently upwards momentarily in a polite 'how-do-you-do' to the man looking back through the window set two stories above ground – taking another sip of his coffee having done so. "He doesn't want you over here, yet he respects you enough to let you do as you please." He looked to Seth – who now simply sat staring into the liquid in his red cup. "I always told him that nothing good would come about him spoiling you so damn much."
"Ro won't get angry at me." He spoke softly, "He can't."
"Ha!" The older man chortled loudly, startling Seth as he did. "You're the only kid around here I know who does and says shit and doesn't get beat every day of his damn life!" He pondered, "Well, expect for that bruise you're nursing. Though it's probably not Roman who's responsible for it."
"Of course he's not! Ro would never hit me! It was that..." He bit his tongue. "And so what if Ro's not like these other people?" Seth looked at him sternly, "And anyways, I didn't come to this crappy place just to hear you state the obvious Randy." His voice rose slightly, "I came here for pancakes so go make some!"
Randy stared coldly at Seth's angry glare, before taking the time to blow over his coffee in an effort to cool it down. "Every time you have a fallout with Roman, you run over here to order me around." He took a long drink of the hot beverage, before speaking again. "Playing the role of favorite uncle was cute when you were a kid, but you're almost an adult now, brat." His eyes flicked towards Seth – burrowing into the boy's brown eyes with their intensity. "Don't mistake my kindness for weakness, or else I'll drop you where you are." Seth pulled back into his seat with his frown still present on his face, before dropping his defiant eyes towards the cup. "Drink your coffee before it gets cold." He folded a loose arm across his torso. "I'm not making another pot."
Seth remained defiant to the order, before the sweet aroma of the specifically made coffee sent his resolve packing. Instantly as Randy had spoken, the younger man began drinking his cup to a rapid emptiness. Randy scoffed a little as he watched Seth gorge himself in the beverage, before finishing off his own cup in one last gulp. With cup in hand, Randy stood to his feet and leaned over to take Seth's empty cup. Seth obliged without a fight, but just as quickly grabbed the tail end of Randy's T-Shirt – stopping the man from moving further.
"There's a stranger in our house."
"You mean that blonde guy?" Seth nodded stiffly. Randy eyed the boy's sunken nature for a moment, before letting out a long sigh, "What you and Roman have is unnatural, I'll say that, but" He looked at the mugs in his hands, "Roman will never leave you. No matter what."
"He lets that guy sleep in his bed." Seth spoke softly, "When I ask about who he is, Ro won't say anything. He's never done that before."
"What, keep secrets?" Seth nodded once more. Randy scoffed lightly as he lightly shook his head. "Everyone's got the right to keep secrets, Seth. It's human nature after all."
Seth looked up to Randy with a slightly worried expression molded onto his face. "Do you keep secrets Randy?"
The feeling of heavy chains coiling around him descended suddenly on Randy, and choked him of an immediate response. His wintery eyes looked back at Seth as if trying to find on the boy's face a hint of something childish to pick at until the topic was avoided entirely. Randy found no such opening, and immediately got caught in the singular rapids of his own guilty mind.
"I do." He answered honestly without much say in the matter, knowing that lying to someone as bold-faced as Seth was near impossible – a fact Randy had learned in the years he came to know the young man. "I still do."
Seth looked away rather solemnly as he released his hold on Randy's shirt. The space between them was no more than inch in total, however to Randy, it now felt close to one hundred miles. He knew what he had said had either hurt Seth incurably, or made sense in whatever was on his mind. For his own sake, Randy hoped the latter was the truth.
"If a secret you were keeping came knocking on your door tomorrow morning," Seth looked up at Randy, "would you close the door to everybody else from that day on?"
Randy looked away for a moment – placing a tender stare on the two cups being held in his hands. The red mug – Seth's mug – caught his attention for a while longer. Through it all, the older man had yet to respond to Seth's question. It wasn't that he did not have an answer. He did. However, what he did not have was the courage or basic desire to deliver his answer, because Seth was hurting over Roman's attitude, because Seth was a high school kid, because…reasons. All reasons, and none of them any good at convincing the older man that keeping silent at this very moment was truly the best thing to do.
"There's a place a man goes to when he's lost everything in his life." Randy spoke in a low, gravelly voice, "I've been there. Roman's been there. I came back to find this diner. He came back and found you." Cold blue eyes looked down at Seth's face. "Roman loves you Seth. No matter who comes along, no matter what happens in this world…Roman will always love you. No secret is going to change that." He cracked a light smile at the young man. "Alright?"
Seth nodded after a brief moment of mulling over Randy's words. The young man soon turned his attention to his satchel, opening the front flap to reveal books and binders. Randy watched as Seth took out some of his books and began flipping through them.
"It's almost time for you to go to school Seth." Randy spoke commandingly.
"If I'm late it'll be your fault, Randy." Seth replied with a childish arrogance surrounding his words. He looked back up at the older man, smiling brightly as he held Randy's expression in his eyes. "You better hurry up with my pancakes."
Randy scoffed heavily as he looked ahead in disbelief. "You damn brat." He spoke under a low breath, before looking back down at Seth. "Fine." He turned briskly on his heels and headed over to the counter. "No syrup right?" He spoke as he placed the cups atop the counter.
"Please and thank you~" Seth sing-songed mockingly.
Randy glanced back to the younger man, finding his attention now placed on the contents of his textbook. A sense of calm settled into the diner and brought to Randy the feeling of the peace he believed this young man to have stolen the first day he stepped through the door. Content with how his day had started, Randy turned away and headed back into the kitchen – taking care to make Seth's morning pancakes the way the young man had come to enjoy them.