You Are Never Going To Live This Down
Dean knew this was going to happen, but nothing can soften the blow as he heads backstage toward the locker room in a numb stupor. No matter how he tries to coax himself out of this low spot, he knows nothing is going to be able to fix this for him. He carried that belt for months and is the longest-reigning champion; why did he have to lose it now? Why can't he just keep carrying it? The Authority never seemed to give a damn about him carrying it in the first place, and now he has no idea how to feel about any of this. It was fun at first. Now, it's not fun.
As soon as he steps into the private locker room set aside for his boys, someone surges forward and embraces him—Cesaro. He squeezes his eyes shut and leans into the older man's arms, breathing him in as he tries to center himself. Why did it have to be this way? Why did it have to be to Sheamus? Dean is a good champion no matter what everyone says about him; he does what he's asked to do and his matches are solid. Why is he being punished for doing exactly what he was told to do for months? If it's to make Evolution look like more of a threat or something, fuck all three of them and their preconceived notions about who the top stable around here is.
Sure, he hasn't been able to defend it as many times as he would prefer, but that doesn't mean he didn't want to defend it. How many times did he remind booking that they needed to put him in more matches to defend his title so the fans would see him as a true champion? This is not his fault and yet he can't help but feel as though everything that just happened in that ring is his fault. What is he going to do now that he's lost his championship?
When Cesaro steps back, Dean is unsurprised to see Roman and Seth already sitting on the benches and just staring at anywhere but his direction. He knows neither of them want to set him off—he's precariously close to the edge as it is, but still. It hurts knowing they're afraid of him going off on them. None of this is their fault; neither of them can help him without risking trouble for themselves, anyway. They do their jobs just like he does, and he will never hold that against them. Sighing softly, he pecks Cesaro on the lips and drops down beside Seth, wrapping an arm around Seth's shoulders and squeezing him in an awkward hug.
Seth flashes a smile up at him and Dean nods, silently reassuring his brother everything is going to be just fine. After all, they still have each other. They still have the Shield, and nothing is going to take that away from him. If anything, their unity staying strong through this is just proof that they'll be able to overcome everything. He never would have expected being pushed into a stable with another breakout indie star and a guy greener than just about anyone else in the company would have worked out so well, but it has. And at the very least, Dean knows that he has his brothers, and that is worth more than a stupid gold-plated belt anyway.
"I'm tired of facing the Wyatt Family," Roman finally says, breaking the silence just as Cesaro lowers himself down on Dean's free side. "I really am. Like, I understand why we have to face them, but I'm tired of it." He reaches into his bag and extracts his phone, and the way his eyes flicker and brighten just pisses Dean off. Who the fuck are you talking to, motherfucker?
"It'll be a good match," Cesaro offers, which is true. The Wyatt Family is good. But still.
Dean scrubs a hand over his face, more or less smearing the sweat around instead of actually wiping it off. "Don't think I'm up for a main event match after losing my belt like that."
"You did good, schäri." Cesaro takes his hand and squeezes it. "You lasted so, so long."
The door flies open and Dean's head jerks up; he narrows his eyes when he realizes Heyman is standing in the doorway of a locker room he has no authority in. A low growl leaves Dean's throat and only Seth's hand falling on his arm keeps him from flying across the small room and knocking Heyman's head off his neck. Why the hell is this bald fucker showing up in their room? Then Dean realizes Cesaro's match is next up on the card and blows out a harsh breath, the very little good feelings building up inside of him tumbling back down. Now is not the time.
"Your match is up next. You need to be in gorilla right now waiting," Heyman says, leaning his shoulder against the doorway and Dean just wants to wipe the smug smirk off of his fat face.
Cesaro sighs and shakes his head. "Paul, now is not the time. Dean needs me right—"
"I saw the match," Paul says. "And I plan on seeing yours. Come on. We have to go now."
"I'll be back as soon as my match is over," Cesaro murmurs, pressing a kiss to Dean's cheek.
When the door swings shut behind the tall Swiss man, Dean shoves himself off of the bench and starts pacing across the room, yanking at his hair in frustration. Why? Why the fuck did Cesaro have to get involved with Heyman and turn their relationship into such a mess? They literally cannot get anything done because Heyman is always there to tear his beloved client away, needing him for something or other and absolutely none of it can wait. His career is important, Dean will never begrudge him it, but damn it, can't he have his boyfriend for a few minutes?
And fucking Roman never knows when to keep his mouth shut. "He just keeps leaving you."
"Do not fucking go there, Roe." Dean whirls around to face him. "Where's your guy at, then?"
"I don't have a boyfriend, Dean. You know that," Roman says quietly.
You fucking lying little bitch. "Bullshit. You're walking out on us almost every night for him."
"There's no one there, Dean." Roman glares at him. "Maybe I just need time away from you."
Dean growls and his hands snap shut into fists, the pressure of his anger reverberating through his body as he considers how much trouble he will get into if he breaks Roman's nose. Probably a lot more than he has time to deal with, but he is exhausted and Roe wants to make smart ass remarks to him about his boyfriend when the guy can't even be honest with him and Seth anymore. And Dean was honest with both of them about Cesaro. Can he seriously not be allowed to expect the same courtesy in return? Is he that fucking gullible or something?
"You know, you got a lot of room to talk about needing time away from me. You're always away from me, Roman. Every night, you're gone. Even during the day sometimes. We used to train together. What the fuck happened to that?" He walks right up into the big man's personal space, shoving himself in Roman's face because he can. "You're not telling us anything when we've been honest with you about ourselves. Did I lie to you when I started with Cesaro?"
Roman's smoky eyes narrow up at him. "If there was anything to tell Dean, I'd let you know."
"So you're not running off to see someone even though your phone goes off right before you leave?" Dean fires back, noting the apprehensive light that enters Roman's eyes before he glares.
"No." Roman's jaw tightens. "There's no one I'm running to. You'll have to accept that."
Dean's eyes light on the phone setting next to Roman on the bench. "All right. If there's no one, then you'll hand your phone over to me and prove that there's no one. Won't you?"
At once, Roman's hand darts out and covers the phone, dragging it right up against his thigh and Dean knows he's lying through his teeth. Roman won't show him the phone because it holds proof that there really is someone in his life, and why he won't trust Dean and Seth with that information, Dean has no idea. Don't you tell your brothers about things like this?
"You're not going to show me your phone, are you?" Dean asks quietly, watching Roman's face.
"No." Roman stands, shoving Dean back with size alone. "There's nothing to see, Ambrose."
Seth stands then and worms his way between them, something of a feat considering they both have a noticeable size advantage over him. "Look, Roman, you're hiding something from us and we're not happy about it. But we're also not going to pressure you or force you into telling us what it is. If you feel that we need to know, you'll tell us. But I really hope you do tell us at some point because Dean's right. We're your brothers. You're supposed to have trust in us."
Dean smirks and shakes his head. Seth has all of the guilt skills of a Jewish grandmother and he can see Roman waver before throwing his walls back up and sitting back down on the bench.
"Well." Seth clears his throat. "I guess I'm going to go… Take a walk or something. Later."
He leaves the room and the tension is at least momentarily gone. Dean thinks about making up some lame excuse for leaving but just goes, planning on hunting down a backstage monitor so he can watch Cesaro's bout with RVD. As tired as he is of Heyman constantly jacking his boyfriend when he needs him or just wants him, there's no way Dean would purposefully miss a match and he's enthralled with Cesaro's in-ring ability. It's the best of both worlds, being able to cheer for him and admiring him for all of the skill he has in the ring even if his chemistry with RVD sucks.
No sooner does he round the corner when he starts hearing soft voices nearby, tucked out of the way but still just barely audible. Frowning, he presses himself against the wall and inches onward, stopping when he spots a shadowy little alcove where it looks like—Is that Seth and fucking Orton of all people? Dean frowns when he sees Seth pinned up against the wall, wholly prepared to jump the bigger man if only to make sure his brother is okay because no way is their interaction with Evolution friendly even backstage. He's braced to pounce when Orton's hand falls to Seth's jaw, fingers sifting through the rough hairs there and forcing Seth's head to tilt back at the same time. Or is he forcing him? Dean would've bet on force until Orton's head dips down and their lips brush, a breath slipping between them before they mold together concretely and Seth leans up into it, a needy little noise rising in his throat just loud enough for Dean to hear.
There's no way he's interrupting this. Instead, Dean creeps in the other direction and locates a spot where a few other people are gathered, watching Cesaro walk out to the ring. Dean falls in with them and tries very, very hard not to think about what he just saw back there. It's none of his business but damn does it make Seth look like a dirty fucking hypocrite.
Cesaro is in good form like always, but Dean's brows scrunch every time he turns to Heyman for assistance, letting the snake whisper suggestions in his ear. Since when has Cesaro ever needed anyone to tell him how to do his job? It makes him look bad and Dean makes a mental note to convey that to him before this gets much more out of hand. How is Cesaro going to be a convincing heel if he can only do his thing with help from a cocky bastard like Paul Heyman?
The unprovoked assault at the end of the match—Cesaro hanging RVD up on the ropes and just beating the fuck out of him—is so sudden that it unsettles Dean. He walks away from the television just as Heyman drags Cesaro away from RVD. This is bad. So very fucking bad.
He gets all of halfway there when Seth is suddenly in his path, knocking into him and stumbling back. "Christ, Dean, where the hell are you going in such a hurry?"
"Pretty sure Cesaro just fucking lost it in the ring and I want to make sure he's okay. And not, y'know, killing someone." Dean laughs but it sounds disjointed to his ears and he's not surprised when Seth winces. "I've never seen him like that before. Like, Rob got hung up on the ropes and Cesaro just starting beating him in the face. I'm pretty sure Heyman just saved him from getting fired or something. It was fucking vicious, man. Like, hardcore vicious."
Seth's eyes widen and he grabs Dean by the upper arms, gloved fingers digging into his skin and grounding him. Fuck, Rollins, let me go. I need to see if something's wrong with him before Helmsley shows up to scream at him for this shit. "Just be careful. I know he wouldn't hurt you but I don't want you to be there if he loses it and starts, like, beating the fuck out of someone."
"I'll get out of there if that happens," Dean says, shaking Seth off as gently as he can.
He growls when Seth moves to stop him from continuing past him. "I mean it, Dean. If shit goes down, come back to the locker room and you can wait there for him to cool down. Okay?"
"I fucking promise, Seth." He forces himself to restrain his temper. "Can I just go now?"
Seth sighs but steps aside, and Dean runs past him without looking back. Now that Seth has gone ahead and crossed such a precarious little line, Dean has every intention of turning it around and demanding to know what Seth was doing in the hallway with Randy fucking Orton of all people.
So much for them being brothers who can confide their secrets in each other.
So much for Seth understanding they need to be a united front, not divided by their personal lives.
Dean sighs and files it away for later as he rounds the corner. What he needs to do right now is find his boyfriend and find out what the hell just happened in the ring. Then, and only then, can he take his concern and outrage back to his brothers and beat it into them that this is just wrong.
And it's such a stupid thing for either of them to hide in the first place.
A/N: So I just want to say, "Wow, thank you so much." Because you guys have backed this story so much and that just makes me feel so humbled. Thank you thank you thank you so, so much.