Chapter 15
Trick or Street Fight.
Macaria loved Halloween. It was her favorite time of year – fall in general, actually. The ring was surrounded with all kinds of goodies, pumpkins, skeletons and weapons. There were candy-corn colored kendo sticks, which she thought was very creative. The company had pulled out all the stops to make sure this match was entertaining. They also allowed Macaria out at ringside for this match since it was so unique and different, wanting her to get some good shots of it for the upcoming article.
Dean dominated most of the fight that ended with a pumpkin being put on Cesaro's head and Dirty Deeds delivered. The pumpkin came off, so his head hit the mat instead of pumpkin. Apparently, Dean noticed it because he put another pumpkin on the man's head and delivered it correctly after the match ended. Then he took half a skeleton, climbed on the rope and held it up, kissing its cheek. Macaria was full of mirth while staring up at him, shaking her head at how crazy he was in the ring. The crowd absolutely loved him and it did her heart good to hear his name being chanted.
When he came through the curtain known as gorilla position, Macaria could see him holding his side and didn't know what to do. Since she was ringside, she followed him to the back after getting clearance from the other camera crew of WWE. They were no longer live and taping the event. She gasped when he dropped to one knee, holding his side and rushed to him instantly.
"Dean, what's wrong? Do you need medical attention?" Macaria had planned on snapping some photos of him coming through the curtain, but one look at him, and the pain on his face, and she put a kibosh on that idea. The amount of concern and worry in her voice wasn't masked by anything, jade eyes wide with the same emotions. "Talk to me."
Dean was used to pain, or had been, still was, sort of. There were policies in place in this company, to ensure nobody got hurt too badly, so he hadn't had to really worry about damaging anything major like he had in the Indy's. Tonight however...well, he hadn't expected Cesaro to fight back as much as he had and kendo sticks to the ribs wasn't fun as he began laughing.
"This morning, I had breakfast naked from my balcony." The honey blonde beauty hadn't specified what he was supposed to say, so he went with whatever popped in his head first, finally raising his head to meet her concerned stare. It was true. She had left to go have a meeting with Aya and he'd gotten out of bed, naked, and ordered breakfast. How much pain Dean was in displayed in his eyes, that was something he couldn't hide. "Cesaro has one hell of a swing with that damn kendo stick. I pissed him off last night with the microphone, apparently." His ribs were killing him now that the adrenaline had worn off from the night.
Despite the pain in his eyes, Macaria smiled back at him and felt his arm wrap around her waist for leverage, his breathing quickening while his side throbbed. "What can I do? Tell me what to do to help." She wasn't above pleading at this point, keeping her voice low and quiet while freaking out on the inside.
Spazzing on him wasn't an option right now, not when the man was in pain. She had watched the footage of him hopping in the back of that vehicle, along with tossing a luggage case from it on the ground, so Macaria assumed he was all right. He seemed to be anyway.
"And thanks for the visual image of you being naked eating breakfast. I'll have to remember that when I wake you up for Aya in the morning."
"That's some cold lovin', Maca." He groaned, using her to leverage himself into a sort of sitting position. Sitting being his backside, resting on his calves, Dean was basically recline-kneeling and exhaled slowly as he tilted his head back. "You should get some pictures of this." He advised, his eyes closed, feeling his ribs being stretched slightly from his position and gingerly began feeling them, pretty sure it was all bruising and agony but nothing broken.
"No." Macaria frowned at his suggestion and shook her head, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth again. "That's the last thing I'm worried about. I got plenty of shots of you from today. Fans don't need to see you in agony."
Walking over to the nearby cooler that was in every dressing room, Macaria grabbed some ice along with a towel and wrapped it up, placing it against Dean's throbbing ribs after pushing his hand away. What was it about this man that made her want to help him, that made her gravitate in his direction? They didn't know each other, but somehow she already felt a connection with Dean she hadn't with any other man.
"Are you gonna make it or should I write my eulogy?"
"Why does it have to be your eulogy? Can't it be mine? You can tell the world how you always wanted to jump my bones, but then broken ribs got in the way and I died before our love could be consummated." That ice felt fan-fucking-tastic and Dean could have kissed her for being so brilliant. His plan had been to basically sit there in agony until it eventually stopped hurting or he passed out.
"You fool, I meant yours." Now her cheeks were burning crimson again because it was true, she did want to jump his bones. This man made her crazy, flushed and aroused all at the same damn time! How was that fair or even possible? "You know, Romeo and Juliet never got to consummate their love either. I guess I better start writing MY eulogy out too."
Macaria had to joke back or else this would become very awkward, not moving the ice from his ribs since he was breathing a little easier. Good, that's what she wanted to see. Maybe she could get him into the shower and cool herself off before she erupted like a volcano and made a complete ass out of herself.
"Can you stand up now?"
"Romeo and Juliet were fu-fucking idiots." Dean muttered through clenched teeth, letting his head loll forward, hair hanging down around his face. He felt her trying to tug him into a standing position and wondered if she was serious. There was no way this little thing was going to get a guy of his size up on her own. "But I don't want to, Mom…" He whined, reluctantly pushing himself upwards with one hand, the other going to his ribs. "You got a degree in nursing too, Maca? I think I need a personal, at-home, nurse."
"You are a piece of work, Dean." Macaria could only shake her head at his antics, even in pain he was in a joking mood. It was used as a diversion from the current pain he was in. "And what do you need a personal, at-home, nurse for, hmm? You give me one legitimate problem and I'll think about it." She didn't bother answering him about the nursing degree because, in truth, she used to be a CNA before switching to photography for a career. Macaria knew a little bit about injuries and could tell Dean's current position wasn't doing him any favors. "There we go, that's it." She pressed the ice a little more into his ribs and felt his hand cover hers, an electric shock rushing up her arm.
"Hey, I could always use a hot nurse to help me deal with my morning wood and blue balls. Pretty sure one 'em counts as a legitimate medical crisis."
Dean knew he was asking for either a slap across the face, a punch to the ribs, or something, but he couldn't help himself. He wasn't so much trying to joke and make her laugh as he was trying to keep himself distracted. When she pressed the ice a bit more into his ribs, he covered her hand with hers to stop her.
"Not so hard now, darlin', you gotta wine and dine me before you play rough." Which was he basically telling her that hurt. Even after she went back to being gentle, he didn't let go of her hand, squeezing gently.
"Sorry, didn't mean to do it that hard."
Once Dean was fully on his feet and breathing somewhat regularly, Macaria pulled back from him, leaving the ice for him to hold. She didn't know what to do at this point. His ribs were bruised, there was nothing to do besides ice them and try to get some rest. Nothing more, nothing less. Once again, Macaria stepped over the boundaries and, if Aya found out, her ass was grass. Then again, what if something happened to their client and she could've prevented it?
"I'm taking you back to the hotel. You're in no condition to drive and I don't care if you're 'trained' to do this shit, you can barely stand on your own two feet. So where's your stuff?" This would get her some brownie points with Aya, right? Right.
"Bossy little thing, aren't you?"
Gesturing to his bag, his stuff floated about the room randomly. While she seemed fine with grabbing his stuff, Dean did his best to get into street gear, which wasn't really working so well. He had a feeling he was going to be wearing his boots for the rest of the night because, bending over to unlace them, was not in the picture.
Macaria currently sat in their hotel room on the edge of the bed while he showered, after helping him get his boots off. When he asked for assistance with his jeans, she shoved him into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, not about to go THAT route. The sound of the shower did things to her body, lit her on fire and Macaria was tempted to join him. What if they did have sex? What would happen after that? Maybe it was better to get it out of her system now and what Aya didn't know wouldn't hurt her.
Toying with her braid, Macaria contemplated a few more minutes and before she knew it, a half an hour had passed by. The bathroom door opened with Dean stepping out, steam rolling out behind him and it looked like he was moving much better than before. The towel wrapped around his waist was low and little rivulets of water slid down his chest, arms and back. Macaria immediately averted her eyes to the carpeted floor and hadn't released her braid, feeling incredibly awkward and aroused right now.
"Feel better?" She asked, taking a swig of water while Dean sifted through his clothes with his back to her.
"I feel loads better, I'm great with pain management methods."
He grinned at her through the reflection in the mirror on his dresser as he continued rummaging through his bag. Setting out what he figured he'd need before procuring a lighter and crumpled pack of smokes, Dean desperately needed a nicotine fix. He would quit soon, hopefully. Hotels had a no-smoking in the rooms policy, that was a policy he tended to ignore. He lit up his smoke and closed his eyes, enjoying that first deep inhale before letting the smoke curl out past his lips.
Macaria walked over and hopped on top of the dresser beside him, making sure not to sit on any of his belongings. Her eyes immediately went to the side he was holding at the arena earlier and could see the faint bruising developing around his ribs. She wanted to reach out and touch to see how tender the area was, but resisted, once again battling with herself on whether or not to take a chance.
"Anything you want me to do?"
Either Macaria was the most innocent, naïve woman he had ever, and would ever, run across or she had either not gotten his measure, or had gotten it and still asked that. All things considered, Dean had a feeling she hadn't given it much thought, but would probably regret it in a second. Hell, he was down with bruised ribs and all to go for a tumble with her under the sheets, his eyes moving to that long honey blonde hair.
"Is 'anything' open to anything I want or are there boundaries?" He smirked, glancing at the window, which was still cracked from his earlier cigarette. When she gave him a look, he cleared his throat. "Mind helping me wrap them?" Dean gestured to his ribs, the towel sliding down precariously.
"Not at all, as long as you keep the towel where it needs to stay." For both of their sanities, Macaria added in thought, staying where she was because it put her eye-level with his chest.
Dean handed her the bandage tape and Macaria began the process of wrapping, being careful not to bump into his sore ribs. She had no idea what the tape would do besides keep the pressure on the ribs, not seeing a need for it. Dean apparently did, who was she to argue?
"Make sure you keep the ice on your ribs." She instructed softly, the scent of his body wash, and him in general, combined with cigarette smoke, infiltrating her senses. When she finished, Macaria pulled back and set the tape on the dresser, stopping Dean from walking away by grabbing the front of his towel to keep him standing in front of her, their eyes locked again. "Anything could mean a number of things. It just depends what you're looking for and what you want from me."
"I don't know yet. A good time, for both of us." He reached out to run a finger down her cheek and then across her lips. "You're different, there's something different about you." Macaria wasn't afraid of him like others and she wasn't a crazed fan looking for 15 minutes of fame.
With perfect timing, his towel dropped and he mentally facepalmed himself.
The moment his towel dropped, Macaria slapped a hand over her eyes and leaned back against the door, doing everything in her power not to look. Not even sneaking a peek could happen right now. "O-Okay, all right, just please cover up."
"Just no, uh, no nudes, if you're gonna snap pictures of me."
Seeing this man naked would melt the rest of her resolve away and Macaria would throw all caution to the wind with Dean Ambrose. She walked past him so he could gather himself, and refasten the towel around his waist, sitting down on the bed. "There's no way I'm taking pictures of you in a towel for the article. If you think your female fans are crazed now…" Macaria didn't elaborate, kicking her shoes off before sitting Indian style. "So what do you wanna do?"
