The lights in the apartment were still on, flickering in and out every minute or so. Roman watched from outside on the fire escape, mumbling to himself restlessly. However, his whispers grew quiet, especially when the man he had been observing walked into his view. Like always, he was nude, wet from a shower. Or maybe from sweating like the first time he paid a visit. It didn't matter, though. Roman was growing anxious; he switched his weight between his feet, whole body rocking to-and-fro at the movement. His breathing grew shallow and he dug his blunt nails into the brick windowsill. With each passing moment, the Samoan man's brows grew closer and closer together. And eventually, a small little growl had escaped from the back of his throat.
Luckily, he wouldn't have to wait much longer. The dim-looking lights were finally shut off, enveloping the room in darkness. A smirk twitched at the corner of his lip, and soon he was opening the window. Every time there was a squeak or an odd noise, he would stop, look around for anything out of the ordinary. Roman mainly kept his eyes on the target; asleep, snoring atop his blankets. Once inside, the Samoan removed his shoes like before. This time, however, he kept his clothes on. Only unbuckling his black belt and unzipping his pants to push them down just enough for his thick cock to fall out.
Like the first time, the other was fast asleep. Deep in a dream that Roman didn't care about as long as it kept the man's eyes closed. He licked his lips, the Samoan did, as he leaned over the bed, laying his bear-like hands gently on the other's thighs. There was a small huff, which made Roman still, but when he looked up, there was silence and no eyes on him.
"Good boy," Reigns whispered before looking back down at his prize.
His pupils blew out, growing in size like his aching dick. Ever so slowly he began his ascend with his hands-running them over the thickness of smooth thighs, feeling the skin between the crease where the man's ass and thighs connected. Just before he could get a feel for the whole peach, though, there was a clicking from the side of the room. Roman shot up straight like he had been shot. Wide eyes looked at the old, broken door of the apartment. The knob turned, sounds of resistance stirring the man in bed. Which, at this point, Roman had already begun to stuff himself back in his pants. Quickly he ran to his shoes and picked them up before practically leaping out the window. He clung to the wall, back pressed tightly against it as if it made him seem invisible.
"Dean, why the fuck is the window open? Again!" a high-pitched, annoyed voice cried out. Along with it was ruffling of sheets and loud stomping. Then, suddenly, the rough shutting of the window. Which cracked down atop the already broken AC Unit.
Roman took this moment to scoot nearer and peer inside. The man he was planning on having a good time with was sitting up. His blue eyes were tired but curious as to why the other was yelling. Curly, reddish brown locks clung to face, which had a wide smirk on it. The sight had a light blush forming on Roman's face.
"AC Unit is shot," the man rumbled as he scratched his hairy chest. "and after that lil show, I'd say it's 'bout dead now." His voice was gravely but deep. It made a shiver run down the Samoan's spine, and before he knew it, the sound was making him make a grand escape.
As he was running down the labyrinth of allies, Roman gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. This man wasn't like any other he had encountered. And he only knew him from sleep.
