He awoke a few hours later to find Reigns was still partially sprawled over him, with his forehead to Sheamus's chest as if he were using him as a cold compress. And he could have. As much as Reigns was always oddly warm, Sheamus was always oddly cool. Maybe being the child of the deadman had something to do with it. Sheamus ran his hand over Reign's shoulder lightly, grinning when he found he wasn't dreaming. Finally Reigns had stayed. Maybe there would be hope for him after all.
His hand traveled slowly from Roman's shoulder to his waist, holding him comfortably. The room was a mess, but finally he had what he needed.
The two awoke, cleaned up, and showered, and straightened the room. It was time for Riegns to return to the room. Sheamus pulled him close, and riegns didn't protest. He kissed him slowly, softly. Reigns dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around Sheamus's neck.
Just then, Taker appeared. He was walking, as if he had been trotting down a hallway, and vanished. He took in the scene before him for second, then dissapeared, the sound of neighing horses making Sheamus break the kiss and look at the fine red clay dust the Undertaker left behind. His bags were on the bed.
"How does he do that?" Riegns asked in awe.
"Maybe, if ya ask him nicely, he'll show ya." Sheamus suggested. The mere idea scared Reigns, and he shook his head, grabbing his bag and kissing Sheamus one more time before heading out the door. He was late already.
Weeks passed of Sheamus and Roman spending every night together. Sheamus knew Riegns was more tired and sore than he was, remembering that his supernatural side, from Taker, gave him more energy than a normal person. He made arrangements for a large tub to be sent to their room, so they could soak together. Reign's back had been bothering him, an ailment that had more to do with his time with Sheamus than with anything else. It was atarting to influence his in-ring work, in small ways. He would do anything to avoid being dropped on his tailbone. Anything at all.