Of all the things Steph dreamed she'd be scripted to do a week before WrestleMania X8, the last thing she'd have imagined was staging the gruesome death of a dog.
It was so stupid. A lot of wrestling was, but this felt especially stupid. This showed through, she knew, in her over the top acting, but she couldn't quite help it. Her father was Vince McMahon, after all. It ran in their blood.
Still, she liked getting to play off Paul, even if they were no longer aligned. There was an ease there, there always had been, that she'd never felt with someone else. To see how hard he worked the past year to get back in the ring and get to be a part of his return to Mania felt significant, even if she was partnered with his adversary.
Things had been...different, for them, as they adjusted to his return. January 7th wasn't that far behind them and, while it had been monuments, it was also a complete upheaval of their budding relationship. Following his blown quad, everything slid into perspective a bit better for them both.
Wrestling was their world, but it could be taken from them, from anyone, really, at any time. To sacrifice other parts of your life for it made sense, to a point, and after a rather difficult cool down period between the two of them, his quad tear truly brought them back together. What they felt wasn't a fling, it wasn't fleeting; they both wanted to be together.
So they were. When he was injured. And it was hard, because he was stuck up in a hotel near where he was rehabbing in Alabama and she was still on the road, but each had dealt with this in the past in other relationships. Granted, Paul usually found himself the one getting to travel around, see the sights, but he found that Steph's frequent phone calls really gave him something to look forward to. One of the only things, really.
It felt good, in those days, to openly be able to state they were seeing one another. No more hiding or cheating or lying or anything. It was what it was and everyone else could suck it, she giggled sometimes, to Paul, and he'd groan cause it sounded so dumb when she said it.
His departure from road life was a necessary step in things though. It was because he wasn't currently wrestling that her father relented a bit. Maybe even felt some sympathy for him, in the beginning. It wasn't really known if he'd ever be back in a ring again and, if he didn't, Vince would have probably felt rather shitty over still separating them.
Or maybe he wouldn't.
It didn't matter, really. They'd made it through that and now were now forced to navigate even rougher waters. Everyone had an opinion on everything in the industry and maybe had enjoyed informing them (mostly him) all they thought about his new relationship.
Then there was just the normal relationship woes when working together.
WrestleMania week was always hectic, no matter what, and emotions were easily swayed from the highest of highs to the lowest of lows. There was hardly ever any in between. Everything led to this. 12 months of building paying off in a single night. It could be a tense time if you were already stressed about something else.
As a McMahon, Steph was always stressed. Or at least anxious. This presented in the ways she meticulously went over things, things she already without a doubt knew, repeatedly, to sooth herself.
As a person returning from injury, Paul had a lot on his shoulders as well. Before he left for months, he didn't think there was much else he had to prove about himself, but that wasn't the case anymore. If he was going to prove himself the same entertainer he'd left, then showing out at Mania was part of that.
In prior relationships, both felt like another person to their respective partners. He spent a lot of time on his own, no matter how serious he was with a woman. He liked solitude. Steph didn't. At all. She was suffocating, honestly, to the guys she involved herself with. They had to meet in the middle on a lot of shit, for things to work. Giving Paul space was as important as him allowing her in. So long as they were both constantly doing so, then everything would be fine.
Mania week was one of the weeks they both wanted the opposite thing and Steph found it easier to cave. She knew, regardless of what he said, that he'd be happier with a place to decompress, away from her.
So they were staying separately, until after Mania.
Steph liked when they were traveling together, particularly after a show or taping, so they could giggle and talk about the events, alone, in bed. She loved to talk all things wrestling (and herself in general), but enjoyed it much more when she had Paul completely to herself. No one listened to her as well as he did. No one cared to.
But things had been tense between them, over something stupid from a few weeks ago, and they didn't have to always share a room. It was probably better they didn't.
She was pretty sure she got more sleep that way, anyways…
It was the wee hours of the morning following Raw before WrestleMania and she knew she should be sleeping. Soaking in all that extra she got without Paul there to disturb her. The drive into Canada was obnoxious, but it had beat getting up early to make it. Instead, now she was sentenced to tossing and turning.
Until there was a knock at her door.
At first, she thought she dreamed it. That she'd fallen asleep in a split second and was having some sort of auditory hallucination. Then she worried that it was a knock and, given it was nearly half past four, meant something was wrong.
She didn't have long to debate this as, after a moment, there was another soft knuckle against the door before a hushed whisper of, "It's me," could be faintly heard. Then, as if for extra reassurance, "Paul."
Springing up, she didn't care to pull anything extra on and merely went to undo the chain and she couldn't help it for some reason, the way she grinned so openly, just bashfully, almost, as she felt her face heat up just from the sight of the man.
The last they'd seen one another was when they arrived in town. They'd road in from Michigan with a couple others and when they'd made it, they were both so tired that they really didn't say much to one another. They had tentative plans in the morning to have breakfast together, but they were very tentative. Everyone was busy this week and she thought that it would just make it better, the night of WrestleMania, after he'd won his titles and lived it up with everyone else for awhile, after the show, when they'd reconvene in one another's rooms. It would almost be like old times, kept at a distance until you could steal a moment away.
It wasn't so far off from what was happening in that moment, Steph was pretty sure, given the man seemed uncharacteristically sheepish as he scratched at the back of his neck and mimicked her sleepy grin.
"Hey," she whispered as she easily took a step back to allow him entry. "What's up?"
"Nothin'," he breathed back as he took a step forwards. "I just… I wanted to check on you."
"Check on me?" She frowned as she merely allowed the door to shut behind him. Crinkling her nose, she asked, "What do you mean?"
He snickered a bit, remarking, "I did, uh, nearly yank your head off tonight."
"Oh, that?" Subconsciously she reached up to scratch the back of her scalp where, indeed, she was a bit sore. Still, she only continued to insist, "I'm fine. You know that. If I wasn't, I'd probably said something the, oh, five hours we spent in a car tonight."
He looked off, to the side for a second and laughed some before shrugging and saying, "Yeah, but, we couldn't really talk. Not like this. You know?"
She laughed too, but it was different and made him frown, but instead of mocking him, she nodded her head in agreement. This seemed to put the man at ease who only turned then to slide the chain lock back over the hotel room door.
"Were you asleep?" he asked.
"No," she admitted softly "I mean, I was trying but-"
"Yeah, same." He wasted no time now, stripping right back out of the sweats and hoodie he'd quickly thrown on before striding through the hotel. "Cold as shit here, still."
"Come get in bed." She was quick to fall back into it. Leaning over to flick on one of the beside lamps, she winced some as her eyes adjusted before remarking, "We can keep each other warm."
"Oh yeah?" Down to his briefs, he was quick to follow her, the woman giggling softly. To her, he questioned, "What'd you even turn this on for?" before leaning over her to get the light right back out.
"Tonight," the man muttered as he settled in beside her, "was, uh, fucking something."
"It really was," she agreed, shifting to rest her head closer to the man's. "It's not every day that you get your jerked around by your boyfriend in the ring."
"Should be for you, as annoying as you are," he griped somewhat, but he did so as reached to rest a palm against her cheek and gently nuzzle his forehead against hers, "it should be."
"I'd like to again point out," she said, "that I didn't kill the dog. Or cause it, really. In any way."
"Any direct way," he gave her through a yawn. "Indirectly."
"Indirectly, everyone causes everything."
"Indirectly," he whispered as his hand trailed now, down to the nightshirt she wore, "aren't you kinda hot in all this?"
"Thought you said it was cold?" she asked though she was reaching down to pull it off anyways and he tsked some.
"This is the kinda stuff that caused you to get jerked around," he mutter and she made a face before balling her shirt up in one palm and shoving it into his face, perhaps a bit rougher than she intended.
This was fine with Paul, of course, who only grabbed her wrist rather tightly in his own before shoving it first away and then, after a second's thought, down as he moved to lay over the woman once more. As she dropped the shirt, he only breathed in.
Settling out together, Paul's grip on her wrists loosened about the same moment Steph surrendered to the hold anyways and then they were just blinking into one another's eyes, both knowing it was too late for much more, but neither willing to be the one to admit it.
His hand shifted and his thumb was over her wrist now, pressing just enough to vaguely catch her pulse beneath his fingertip. The tips of his hair tickled her face as it tumbled down too far when he leaned closer just to whisper, "So are we not gonna talk about me flashing your whole ass to the camera or-"
"Damn it, Paul." She shoved him off with ease now as he allowed himself to be thrown away. As he landed on his back with a smile, she was the one leaning over now to glare down at him. "You know that I don't want to talk about it."
"You might not," he pointed out with a toothy grin, "but literally everyone else will."
"You're an..."
When she wouldn't pull the trigger, he offered up, "Ass?"
"Shut up."
"I just have to know one thing, Stephie.," he kept up.
His pause gave her a chance to choose to play along or not and, narrowing her eyes, she banked on doing so as she asked cautiously, "What?"
He looked so proud of himself, before he even got the words out of his mouth. Around his grin, he asked, "Nice breeze?"
She wanted to feign anger, but she was honestly too tired for it, real or not, and when she fell into his chest, it was mostly to hide her own grin.
A strange silence fell over the pair in that moment as his laughter stopped and she wasn't hiding her face any longer. Instead, the woman found herself lying with her chin atop her arm as it rested across his chest, watching the man struggle in the same way she was to starve off what was both overtaking them then. Sleep had been so illusive before. Now, though he was angling his head to keep eye contact with her, she could tell Paul was nodding off while on her end, every blink seemed to add a microsecond to itself.
Soon, they'd both be gone.
Pass out.
At least until the alarm woke them.
"Why'd you really come?" she asked as it was becoming clear sex wasn't it, considering he was nearly asleep. "Paul?"
"Told you." He reached out lazily to find her hair. Gently tangling his fingers in the brown strands, he grinned as he said, "Wanted to check on you."
"Bullshit."
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah."
He yawned, which caused her to do the same, and his fingers were stroking the back of her head then, softly, the motion seemingly keeping them both tethered to the waking realm. One of them had to give in, soon, least pure exhaustion would claim a victor on their behalf.
"Wanna know somethin' weird?" he whispered and, when she nodded slightly, his fingers seemed to tighten their hold, tangle further. Softly, he said, "I couldda almost sworn, out there, that the tighter I pulled your hair… I mean, I dunno. Seemed almost like you…liked it."
Steph scoffed some, at him, but she followed his hand all the same when he tugged, lightly, to get her to lift her chin. There was a glint in her eye that rivaled the one typically in his as she retorted, "What was there to like? From those little sissy pulls-"
"You sure you wanna play this game?" he questioned as he sat up some as well, eyes alight. "Could end pretty poorly for it. I mean, if you're not totally into it, which, I mean..."
But Stephanie only leveled her gaze with his own in the darkness as she countered, "You sure you do? Cause you look like you're about to yawn again."
It felt Pavlovian, the way he did so, with ease, from the mere mention and Steph wanted to laugh, but it turned into one as well, and somehow, that was all she needed to defeat the man.
Releasing the grip he had on her hair, he instead ran his hand down her arm. He shifted some, as she fell off away from him, so he could lie on his side once more, watching her. Stephanie, for her part, merely ran her own hands through her hair, tussling it some before she fell into the bed now, rather than the man, and curled up facing away from him.
Only allowing this for a few minutes, Paul actually startled her back awake (facing away from him had done the trick and she'd been out like a light) when he shifted to wrap his arm around her waist and tug her closer.
She moaned softly when he rested his head against the back of hers, but his words stopped any protest.
"I just," he answered, finally, truthfully, a question she forgot she asked or cared about, honestly, so close to true sleep, "couldn't sleep alone. Tonight. I dunno. I wanted you. I don't-"
"Yeah," she saved him from continuing on as she added, "Same."
His soft chuckle was nothing more than a short breath and she was already asleep, really, when she felt the kiss he pressed to the back of her head.
It was still stupid, of course, all of it was, but especially the way, even as she was drifting off, she could feel her stomach twist a bit, as she could feel each breath, in and out, the man took. It tickled the back of her neck, warm and close.
She'd offered him his space, before, and finding it, he'd returned with what she always needed. Attention, mainly, but also relief.
Because he felt it too, she knew, for him to come join her like this. It wasn't odd between the two of them, sneaking over to the others room late at night (though perhaps now it would be, considering they were very open about things), but there was no way he'd have done so in the past, just for what they were doing now.
Being together.
Nothing more. Just resting, beside one another.
It felt just better that way.
