Erin managed to be awake without pain for approximately half a second before the pain kicked in—and did so quite violently. She flinched so hard she woke John when her elbow went straight into his ribs.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she cried, trying to roll away. "Oh, John, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to—"
"It's alright," John wheezed, catching his breath. "It's alright. You need Advil?" Erin nodded miserably, and John paused, kissing her forehead gently. "I'm fine, love, I promise. How many?"
"Six," Erin replied, slowly untangling herself from the sheets and crawling out of bed. "Owwww." John stifled a chuckle, returning with the Advil and a glass of water.
"I think I'll make breakfast today, then," he said, making his way out into the kitchenette. "How about Belgian waffles?"
"We have ice cream?" Erin called.
"No, but I can call room service," John replied cheerfully. Erin smiled, loosely braiding her hair before joining him, still walking gingerly. "Stop that. Go sit down and relax, alright? You took a beating yesterday."
"Yes, my body's reminding me of that fact," Erin said dryly. "In a very painful and obvious fashion."
"You just sit there, and I will bring everything to you, alright?" John told her. Erin collapsed gratefully onto the couch, biting back a groan as she landed on several bruises. As the Advil kicked in, she closed her eyes, dozing off for a moment.
"Here you go," John said, nudging her awake and setting a tray down in front of her. "Belgian waffles and hot cocoa for breakfast. And how about we have a day in, since movement's a little difficult for you right now?"
"Will there be massages?" Erin asked, her voice muffled by the too-large bite of waffle in her mouth. John wiped whipped cream off the tip of her nose, grinning.
"As many as you like," he told her.
"Oh, that's a bad promise to make," she warned him, though she was smiling. "I have an insatiable appetite when it comes to back massages. You should know that by now."
"I really should know better," John agreed, taking a bite of his waffle. "And this is every bit as good as the first time I had one. Remember it?"
"The morning after my debut," Erin recalled, smiling. "I made you a waffle when you told me you'd never tried one."
"So do you want me to get anybody else to stop by?" John offered. "Maybe Beth, or Rey, or Evan? I know they'll be glad to stop by."
"Want to just put out that we've got an open door all day?" Erin suggested. "I'd love to see anybody who feels like stopping by."
"Sounds fine by me, love," John said, sending out a mass text. "They'll be here soon, I'm sure."
"More like immediately," Erin said wryly, hearing thundering footsteps down the hall.
"Mighty Mouse!" Christian called, bursting through the door. "I brought company."
"I thought Mighty Mouse was my nickname for her," Morrison complained, following him in. Rey and Matt Hardy were right behind him.
"Guess that means I get to call her Super Ratón," Rey added, and Christian snickered.
"If we're giving her nicknames, I vote for Mini Me," Matt tossed out. "Fits you well. And it's easy to remember."
"Yet thankfully, Matt, I'm not a miniature you," Erin retorted, setting aside her plate and trying to sit up straighter. "I don't think the world could handle more than one Matt Hardy. Having another Hardy brother is almost too much as is."
"Oh, Jeff's far worse than I am," Matt said straight-faced. "Especially when he's had Skittles. Or any kind of sugar."
"Oh, God, keep that man away from sugar," Rey groaned, remembering. "Bad things happen when he has sugar."
"I'll remember that," Erin said, laughing. "If I ever meet your brother, I'll make sure not to give him sugar. How are y'all feeling today? I loved the Smackdown vs. Raw match, by the way."
"A few bruises, a few bumps," Christian said, waving his hand as if to brush the injuries off. "Nothing major. Unlike you, the human punching bag." Erin chuckled.
"Hey, he didn't break anything, at least," she protested. "And I can still walk. Kinda."
"For real, how are you doing, though?" Morrison asked seriously, grabbing a chair and taking a seat across the room.
"Feel free to grab a seat, guys," John offered, helping Erin into a more comfortable position.
"Everything hurts," she admitted, wincing. "The Advil hasn't kicked in yet. And I'm pretty sure everything will hurt for a while. My bruises are turning lovely shades of purple and blue, the welts look like hell, and I can't wait for another ice bath. But I honestly couldn't be happier."
"Well, that's a very shiny title you got yourself there," Matt drawled. "That gold—definitely a good color on you."
"I'm rather fond of it myself," Erin agreed cheerfully. "I'm planning to keep it on for a while. So what do y'all have planned for the day?"
"It's Vegas, baby—we're hitting the casinos all day and the clubs all night," Morrison told her. "I think Mel and Tiffany are coming with us—Mel's in town for Comic-Con."
"How's her ankle doing?" John asked. Morrison shrugged.
"Better, but she's still working out the ring rust before she comes back," he replied. "She wants to be back on the top."
"We were really just stopping by," Rey said, almost apologetically. "I'm spending every last minute I can with the family before we're off traveling again, and I know these guys wanted to go blow their money on the poker tables."
"Hey—I'll have you know I've got an excellent poker face," Christian protested. Matt rolled his eyes, clapping his friend on the shoulder.
"I will gladly strip you of all your money and prove you wrong," he pronounced as they made their way towards the door. "Feel better, Erin!"
"Thanks, guys!" Erin called after them. She turned to John, raising her eyebrows. "If we're having visitors, I need to wear actual clothes."
"What do you want me to grab?" John asked, taking their plates back to the kitchenette. "I'll bring it out to you."
"Can you grab my long blue dress? It'll cover most of my bruises and won't press on any of them," Erin said. "And it's just really, really comfy."
"No problem, love," John called back, pulling it out of her closet. "Need a hand getting dressed?"
"Well, if you insist," she replied, smiling mischievously. John grinned, tossing the dress over the back of the couch and climbing over to take the seat next to her.
"You wouldn't want to pull anything, love," John cautioned her, slipping the hem of her shirt up her torso with tantalizing slowness. Erin shivered as he pulled her shirt over her head, careful of her bruises, running his hands along her sides. John's smile was wicked as helped her out of her sweatpants, bending down and supporting all his weight on his arms as he leaned down to kiss her.
"Get a room!" someone called from the door.
"We have a room—you're in it!" Erin yelled back, pulling away long from John long enough to glare at Heath. Justin and Wade were behind him, snickering as John positioned himself in front of Erin. "Now close the door. I need to put clothes on." John closed the door in Heath's face before he could make any snarky comments, helping Erin into her dress.
"They've got a piss-poor sense of timing," John grumbled.
"Well, I'll be here all day, love," Erin reminded him, winking. "And I'm really not all that capable of running away right now. I think we'll have time."
"Your Advil's kicked in, hasn't it?" he remarked. She looked at him, confused. "You're cranky when you're in pain. You're optimistic when you're not."
Erin was laughing as John opened the door, accepting the ribbing from the rookies good-naturedly. Brie, Nikki, and Cody, had joined them in the interim, and followed the rookies through the door.
"Hey, Brasilia," Brie called. Erin chuckled, reaching up and accepting Justin's handshake. "How're you feeling?"
"About as you'd expect," Erin replied, shrugging. "Congratulations to you two, as well. Co-Rumble Champions seems appropriate for twins."
"Too bad we don't get matching trophies," Nikki laughed. "That would have been awesome."
"We could always make our own," Brie suggested. Nikki grinned at her twin, and Erin just shook her head.
"So any chance you'll be joining us out on the town tonight?" Justin asked, wrapping his arm casually around Brie's shoulder.
"I'll think about it, but I'm not sure how much fun I'd be," Erin replied cautiously. "I kind of wince every time I move."
"I believe it was more of a scream when you woke up, love," John said dryly. Erin just leaned over to kiss his cheek.
"Less talk, more backrub," she ordered. John laughed, sliding behind her. "John foolishly offered me unlimited backrubs today. This may also contribute to me not going out."
"What, the backrubs or what comes after?" Cody teased. Erin stuck her tongue out at him.
"I'm waiting, remember?" she reminded him, holding up her left hand and waggling her fingers.
"Doesn't mean you can't cuddle," Cody said cheekily. Erin grinned at that. "You all packed up, Nikki? Because we should really head out soon."
"Where are you guys off to?" John asked, curious.
"Since we're in Charlotte for Raw next week, Brie and Justin and I are staying at Cody's house," Nikki explained. "He's right outside of the city, so it's pretty close."
"You guys should all come over for dinner one night," Cody offered. "I'd say come stay over, but we're rapidly running out of space."
"I never turn down a home-cooked meal," Wade said promptly. "Count me in."
"We'll keep you in the loop then, big boy," Cody laughed, clapping Wade on the shoulder. "We should go pack up the car. Feel better, Erin!"
"I'll try," Erin said dubiously, and Cody frowned.
"Try not," he said, giving his best imitation of Yoda. "Do, or do not."
"Yes, Master Yoda," Erin replied, stifling a giggle as the group trickled out of the room. "Mmm. That feels amazing."
"I do my best," John said modestly. Erin relaxed against him, already worn out.
"How am I tired again after being awake for four hours?" she grumbled.
"Your body needs time to heal, love," John reminded her. "That means rest. Why don't you take a nap, and I'll get some lunch going for us? I could make pizza."
"Sounds good to me," Erin said, already yawning. "I—mmm. I'll see you in about an hour."
"Sweet dreams," John chuckled, tucking her blanket under her chin as she rolled over. She was asleep within minutes.
When Erin finally awoke, it was 2:00 in the afternoon. John had dozed off on the chair next to her, and she smiled slightly before she rolled slowly off the couch, biting her lip to keep from crying out as the pain kicked in. The pizza sat atop the stove, kept warm by the low heat of the oven, and John had laid out four Advil next to her slices.
"Could he be any more perfect?" she whispered, hobbling over to grab her pizza and heading back to the couch.
"He could win the lottery," Beth stage-whispered from the door. Erin giggled, plopping onto couch. "I won't stay long—don't want to wake Sleeping Beauty over there. I just wanted to stop by and see how you were feeling."
"Like I've been run over by a truck. Or several," Erin replied, though her voice was muffled by the massive bite of pizza currently in her mouth. "But the Advil should be kicking back in soon, and I can walk. Kind of."
"Well, if there's anything Ted or I can do, just let me know, okay?" Beth said, hugging Erin carefully. "Congrats again, Snow White." Erin settled back on the couch just in time to see John blink himself awake, smiling drowsily at her.
"This pizza's amazing, love," she told him, pushing herself backwards slightly. "Thanks for making it."
"Anytime," John said, yawning even as he grinned sheepishly.
Their afternoon passed in much the same fashion as the morning had—half the rosters of Smackdown and Raw stopped by just to say hello or check in, passing on congratulations and well wishes. Even Mark, still wearing his signature black coat, came over, shaking John's hand gravely and offering Erin a bouquet of sunflowers that she immediately placed in a vase. By the evening, Erin felt good enough that she was walking around, testing her ankle.
"Do we want to try and go out on the town tonight?" she asked finally, wincing slightly. "It is Vegas, after all."
"Actually, I had a different plan in mind," John replied. "I wanted it to be a surprise, but I—I set up a romantic dinner on the balcony. I picked up food—there's steak, and the mozzarella and prosciutto you loved, and chocolate shakes." Erin's eyes widened, and she stepped towards John slowly, rising on her tiptoes to kiss him.
"I'll put on something pretty, then," she promised, her hand lingering on his chest as she ducked into the bathroom. John smiled slowly, putting on a royal blue buttondown and a pair of dark washed jeans. When Erin came out of the bathroom, John couldn't help but stare. She wore a long dress the same shade as his shirt, a one shoulder silhouette with rhinestone detailing along the shoulder and an open kimono sleeve with a fitted cuff at her wrist. Her dark curls fell over one shoulder, but she went barefoot. "How do I look?"
"Absolutely breathtaking," John replied without hesitation, taking her hand and leading her out onto the balcony. The table there was set for two, with a plain white tablecloth, candles, and a single long-stemmed rose in a vase at the center. John pulled out her chair, helping her into her seat, before wheeling over a cart with several covered platters. "I realized that I'd forgotten to get us dessert last time we went out."
"I think the chocolate milkshakes pretty much covered that," Erin laughed, smiling up at John as he set out their dinner. "So what's for dessert this time?"
"It's a surprise," John told her promptly. "Besides, don't you want dinner first?"
"Of course," Erin replied, still smiling. John set out the food carefully, taking the seat across from her and handing over her milkshake. "This all looks amazing. You're the best boyfriend ever."
"I do what I can," John said modestly. "Now. I'm sure by now you're absolutely ravenous, so let's eat."
"Remember our first date?" Erin asked, taking a bite of her steak.
"Every word," John replied, smiling reminiscently.
"Oh, really," Erin said, raising one eyebrow skeptically. "What did I say my favorite movie was?"
"Kill Bill Vol. 1 or any of the Fast and the Furious movies," John replied immediately. "But you also like Inglorious Basterds and Sherlock Holmes. And you love anything by Tolkien, your favorite colors are turquoise and cerulean, and you speak Arabic fluently but know enough to get by in French, Spanish, German, and Russian."
"Okay, okay, I believe you," Erin laughed. "Consider me sufficiently amazed. But for my part, I remember that your favorite color is forest green, and you love Fist of the North Star and the original Die Hard. And you didn't tell me what your favorite book is, but you did release a CD a few years back. Which I bought and listened to, by the way."
"And?" John prompted.
"And I loved it and was incredibly impressed," Erin told him, smiling. "I think you should work on releasing another CD, honestly. The WWE universe alone would love it."
"I'd definitely consider it," John said thoughtfully. "And this time, it might take me less than two years to write enough songs."
"Why's that?" Erin asked, puzzled.
"Because I've got a muse this time," he replied simply, leaning across the table to kiss her. Erin smiled up at him. "So the other day, when you were playing with Christian and Morrison—that song meant something to you, didn't it? 'Hey Ya'?" Erin looked down for a moment, remembering.
"That was the first song Aiden taught me how to play," she said softly. "I used to—I used to wish that it actually applied to my family, that my parents actually loved each other and all. But when I realized that would never happen, I wished that someday, I could sing it to somebody and it would actually fit, and they'd know what it meant." John didn't answer her, just leaned across the table to kiss her again.
"Ready for dessert?" he asked finally, sitting back down.
"Are you going to tell me what it is yet?" she asked patiently. John chuckled, uncovering the plate at the center of the table.
"Tiramisu," Erin realized, smiling. John moved his chair over until he sat beside her, holding the plate in one hand. He took a small sample of the dessert onto the fork, and Erin reached for it.
"No, no," he said teasingly. "I will be feeding the new World Heavyweight Champion, thank you very much." Erin blushed as he brought the small portion of tiramisu to her lips. Her mouth opened slowly, temptingly, and John placed the bite inside. Erin closed her eyes, smiling, enjoying the sensation, and John leaned close to kiss her, as though trying to taste the dessert on her lips.
"Are you stealing my tiramisu?" she demanded, mock-angry, though she was laughing.
"No, you're sharing it," John said innocently. "Involuntarily." Erin smiled up at him, and John chuckled, offering her a second bite. Erin shook her head, plucking the fork from his fingers.
"My turn," she informed him, placing the bite between his lips. John smiled, leaning over to kiss her as soon as he was finished. This time, his lips lingered on hers, and Erin leaned into him.
"Maybe we should save dessert for another time," John suggested, his voice low. Erin's smile was sweet but with a decidedly wicked edge, and John took the upturned curve of her lips as a silent yes. He lifted her effortlessly, the hem of her dress trailing over her bare feet as he carried her into the bedroom. He set her down on the bed, his gaze intense as he cupped her check with one hand.
"I think I want to kiss you right now," he informed her quietly.
"I think you need to stop talking and just do—" Erin started. John silenced her with a kiss that was long and sweet and lingering, the kind that nearly made her heart nearly stop and her breath catch in her throat. She melted as his hands slid to her waist, pulling her flush against him as his lips moved to her throat, trailing soft kisses down to her collarbone.
"Wait," Erin whispered. John stopped, concerned. Erin rose slowly, still resting against his chest. She looked straight into his eyes as she undid the zipper on the back of her dress, letting the garment fall to the floor. John's eyes were dark with desire as she unbuttoned his shirt slowly, running her hands over his chest before pushing it over his shoulders. Her smile has half-shy, half-mischievous as she backed away, pulling him after her by his beltloops. John's laughter was a low, husky rumble against her chest, making her shiver as he drew her hands free, raising them until he could kiss the soft skin on the inside of her wrists. Erin let out that breathless, shivering sigh that drove him crazy. John backed her against the wall, pinning both wrists over her head as he captured her lips with his once more. His free hand slid from her neck to her hip, caressing every inch of skin in between before wrapping her slender leg around his waist.
He brushed feather-light kisses along her jawline before descending to her throat, sucking lightly on the soft skin there. Erin sighed softly, her whole body pressing against his as she arched into him, her head falling back. John bore her down to the bed, suspending himself over her on his forearms.
"So how long—how long can you hold yourself up like that?" Erin asked breathlessly.
"As long as you need, love," John whispered, silencing her with a long, hot kiss that left her flushed with heat, her heart racing against his chest. His lips made his way down her neck once more before descending to the smooth skin of her stomach. Erin gasped, her hair spilling over the pillow as John looked up at her, a wicked smile on his lips. Her legs intertwined with his as he rolled her over, and Erin lay against his chest, her breath coming back slowly. John was breathing heavily beneath her, and she sighed contentedly.
"I thought I was supposed to take it easy today," she said finally. John chuckled.
"It's all your fault," he informed her sternly. "You're damn irresistible."
"It's one of my many charms," Erin said cheerfully, still mostly breathless. "Along with an inability to shut up and the temper of the Irish."
"I thought I managed to silence you pretty well," John teased. Erin chuckled.
"That you did, love," she agreed, her eyelids fluttering shut. She blinked rapidly, trying to stay awake.
"If I'm as exhausted as I am, I can only imagine how you're feeling right now," John said, craning his neck to look down at her. Erin smiled ruefully, her response dissolving into a yawn. "I'll take that as an 'I'm ready for bed too', shall I?" Erin nodded, and John chuckled, tilting her chin up so that he could kiss her soundly. "Goodnight, beautiful."
"Goodnight, love," Erin whispered, relaxing against him as she drifted off to sleep.
A/N: Long-ish chapter! I tried to balance things out a bit. Also, I'm absolutely rubbish at writing romantic scenes (blame my lack of a love life), but I did my best anyway. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Read and review, please!