Also, thanks, y'all, for reading my silly little fic. This just started as a feels-heavy, one or two shot. A self-indulgent romp with one of my most loved OCs. But the more folks read the more I want to write and now its turned into... this? Idk where its going but I'm having fun with it, and I hope you are too! Thanks for reading :)
As of right now, this story is an up to date copy-paste from my AO3 account, but what I said was true, I appreciate anyone reading. This was never supposed to be a multichapter fic, but it's gotten away from me and I'm here for the ride. Thank you all so, so much.
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Kane barely slept for the second time in a row after sharing a bed with Ransom. Ransom didn't unsettle him, per se, but he couldn't manage to sleep with his heart racing in both fear of the future and anticipation to actually be with Ransom. At about 6 in the morning, Kane finally decided to quit trying, turning his face to kiss the top of the smaller man's head. He carefully untangled his arm from Ransom, raising from the bed slowly so as to not wake him. Giving a stretch with a few loud pops of his back and shoulders, he rubbed at his eyes and made his way back to his mask, his ever present crutch.
Knuckles rapped on the door loudly nearly as soon as Kane reaffixed his mask, causing him to jump slightly. Casting a look to Ransom, he assured the man was still asleep. Kicking himself, he shook his head. Of course Ransom didn't wear his cochlear to bed. Someone could start bulldozing the hotel to the ground and the noise probably wouldn't wake him. Kane threw on a pair of shorts before peeking through the peep hole.
It was Dwayne.
Kane sighed, opened the door only slightly, just a crack, to the cocked eyebrow of The Rock. "What?"
"Your brother around?" He pressed, looking into the hotel room as best he could, unable to see much.
"Why?" Kane interrogated in return, trying for all he was worth to remain fully in the crack of the door and barr him from looking further.
"Kane," Dwayne scoffed, smiling out of the side of his mouth, visibly a little confused, "We were partners just last night you don't need to do all this. Are you... hiding something?"
"No." Kane uttered but groaned internally. He sounded like a guilty toddler caught with a cookie behind his back. Dwayne rolled his eyes in response, trying to press the door open further and found himself able to look past Kane's shoulder, if only barely, to see the bare back of some scrawny brunette, disturbed bed and body mark next to the person as if some very large demon had been laying at their side. He didn't get a good look at the person, but he simply assumed-
"Oh!" Rock said, brows raising suggestively. "I didn't know you were so popular with the ladies. Got a ring rat in there, huh? She must be a hell of a freak to go after you."
Kane knew the jest was in good fun but he smacked his forehead against the door jamb anyway when, like the cruelest joke from the most unforgiving of Gods, Ransom woke up. Blinking his eyes a few times, he noticed the brightness of the room, and immediately, Kane's abscense behind him. Looking around, he sat up, trying to figure out where he'd gone when he found Kane, standing at the door with tension in his shoulders, decked in that God awful grey t-shirt again. He called out,
"Kane? What are you doing?"
The Big Red Monster, at the sound of Ransom's voice, turned around, inadvertently revealing the appearance of his evening companion to the Rock. Dwayne, for a moment, just stared dumbfounded, with open mouth. It didn't take long to connected the dots. He looked at Ransom, that poor guy Kane had roughly dragged backstage last night, then to Kane, then to the Kane-sized indent in the bed beside the curly haired stranger before he tentatively stammered,
"I, uh, have to go-" he made to leave in a rush, only to be grabbed by the horse collar by rough, pale hands. He looked around to see what sort of witnesses there might be. No one was in the hall and so, poor Rock was hurled back into the hotel room, the door quickly deadbolted behind Kane. The Rock stumbled into the room, now trapped.
"Oh Gods what the fuck," Ransom huffed, not quite ready for this level of activity quite so early. His hand bolted to the bedside table, finding his cochlear and attaching it quickly. "Y'all do this in real life too?"
Neither of the wrestlers answered poor Ransom. Dwayne looked up at Kane, expression sharp enough to cut glass and rushed towards the Devil's Favorite Demon. Kane took the hit well, but his back crashed into the door, its wood cracking ever so slightly. Frankly, The Rock was mostly miffed that instead of letting him go and talking it over later like a sane human being, Kane had thrown him into the hotel room like a perp thrown into jail. Of course, he was silly to expect any modicum of sanity from Kane.
The noise of the tussle had certainly alerted anyone in the hall that was even half awake. A 300 pound man nearly breaking a door was certainly a wake up call to end all wake up calls. Curious hall occupants began filtering in to listen in on what was happening. Truthfully, it was not much more than grown men and hot tempers. Still, after Kane hit the door, Rock went in for another shot, really only desperate to get out at this point, and Kane sidestepped the other fellow, grabbing him on his way past and throwing him clean through the door. Stumbling across the hallway, he hit the wall, making a dent in the plaster, and causing many on lookers to gasp in shock and concern.
"Holy shit Kane. Don't y'all ever give it a rest?!" Ransom exclaimed, sprinting from the room into the hallway to get a closer look at Dwayne, who was raising up with eyes trained still on Kane. Ransom tried to hold the man back, "Now hold on there, partner, cool heads, man."
Fiery brown eyes flicked down angrily at Ransom, to whom The Rock gruff responded, "What are you gonna do about it, half-pint?"
Ransom's entire demeanor changed at the flip of a switch. Something about 'half-pint' grated on the man more than usual. He'd already had felt quite cornered and rather out of place last evening backstage among the tall, heavy and hulking behemoths running the show. Not to mention his whole life he'd been demeaned and feminized for his size and his preference for the company of men. So, 'half-pint', though a relatively harmless jab, set Ransom Beltzariamendi off.
"Oh, it's like than then, is it, motherfucker?" The smaller man puffed out his chest and took a step into The Rock's personal space.
"Yeah it's like that, now get out of my way you puny little jabroni so I can beat the piss out of your little boyfriend over there for attacking me!" Rock spouted off, not thinking much about his choice of words. Ransom stood firm, so hot he couldn't help it, he raised a fist and clocked Dwayne Johnson right in the jaw.
This didn't really register to The Rock so much as the shock did, though the longer the aftermath of the strike hung out there, the worse his lower jaw was starting to hurt. The larger man didn't think twice about hitting Ransom right back though, the sizeable difference in physique and the strike of a trained hand sent Ransom flying. Hitting the ground roughly, Ransom grit his teeth a bit, watery eyes looking up to see the Rock coming for him still. Using his position on the hallway floor, Ransom stuck out a leg to stop Dwayne in his tracks by kicking him straight on the knee, sending the man stumbling instead to the spot behind him to hiss in pain.
Mouth metallic with blood from getting punched in the face by a 250 pound man, Ransom felt familiar hands roughly grabbing his shoulders, lifting him off the floor and moving him back out of harms way, but causing the smaller man to nearly trip over the broken door. Ransom cursed under his breath, regaining his balance and leaning against the hallway wall. Gazing down the hallway he saw a myriad of faces. Some familiar, some not. A few of the folks gathered there he recognized from backstage. Some of them were simply normal hotel inhabitants, and they seemed far more perturbed by Kane and The Rock's little outburst.
They only got a little bit of time to decompress from the confrontation. The door across the hall from Kane's swung open to a sputtering Paul Bearer. "What in the blazes is going on out here, and-"
In his shock and confusion, Paul's eyes scanned the hallway, seeing The Rock cradling his knee, Kane glaring down at the man, heaving for breath and eventually, Ransom, blood leaking from his teeth, eyes cast down the hall but quickly flitting over to Paul, who's face began to turn red as a cherry as he sneered at Ransom,
"You."
The young man bared his reddened teeth at Bearer, a bit of an edge to his voice as he greeted insincerely, "Kaixo."
"Kane?!" Paul sing-songed in that high-pitched voice of his. "A word?"
As if on autopilot, Kane obliged to Paul, barely casting a glance to Ransom aside from checking to ensure he was okay and, thankfully, it seemed as if Dwayne's temper had also cooled. Nerves jolted in Kane's stomach as he followed Paul like he was getting called to the principals office. Their recent adversary ignored the ordeal and came up to Ransom, holding out a hand, and Dwayne spoke first after everyone had a moment to catch their breath.
"Sorry man, really didn't mean anything by it. I just... don't like being cornered," he admitted earnestly and Ransom, to his surprise, just took his hand like nothing happened.
"S'alright. I know the feelin'. But if you knocked my teeth loose you're paying for my dental work, big guy." He grumbled, loosing The Rocks hand to pat the corner of his lips, checking to see just how much blood was coming from his mouth.
"Done," He chuckled bitterly, heading away to lick his own wounds as the crowd of looky-loos began to dissipate. Ransom continued to hold his hand to his face, trying to decide how bad the damage was, and if any teeth fell loose in the fight. A bald fellow with a goatee sauntered confidently up to Ransom whilst he leaned against that wall.
"You got guts, kid." He observed. Ransom laughed darkly, responding,
"Yeah. Unfortunately." Bitterly he wiped his hand on his bloodied chin, looking at the crimson stain left on his knuckles. He just rolled his eyes, scoffing.
"You look like you could use a beer." He clasped the young man on the shoulder, beckoning him toward a room a bit further down and across the hall from the room that he'd slept in last night.
"Ain't it 7 o'clock in the mornin'?" Ransom chided, earning himself a confused look from this other guy.
"So?"
"Alright." Beltzariamendi couldn't help but just laugh. Heaving himself off the wall, he retreated to the room to throw on his wifebeater from yesterday, grab his flannel, keys, and slip on his boots. Stepping to the bathroom, he washed his face off and swished a mouthful of water around to spit out some of that blood. The man still waited outside for him, and Ransom stuck out a hand, "Ransom Beltzariamendi."
"Steve Austin." He responded, taking the hand in his larger one. "Now, come on, 5 o'clock somewhere, brother."
