I Wanna Love You
Rating: M
Pairing: Dean Ambrose/Roman Reigns
Summary: Roman Reigns' carefully built defenses meet Dean Ambrose and a lot of alcohol. He didn't stand a chance. Very loosely based on the song, I Wanna Love You by Jussie Smollett and Dean's answer at the Las Vegas Q/A about what he and Roman got up to the night before.
Disclaimer: Sadly this is a work of fiction. Although I give them a ton of my money, I am in no way affiliated with WWE. I make zero dollars from this story.
Looking back on it, Roman should have known that this moment would come. He was powerless against the sparkling blue eyes he'd missed so much. It had been all too easy for the raspy voice to encourage him to take "just one more shot." The defenses Roman Reigns worked so carefully to build seem to crumble easily when put up against the controlled chaos that was his best friend, Dean Ambrose.
Finding yourself in love with your best friend in itself, while a bit strange, especially when up until that moment you thought yourself to be a completely heterosexual man, was not criminal. Acting on those feelings, that was another thing altogether.
Roman had done a good job up until this point of keeping somewhat of a distance from Dean, which was why, when Dean insisted on going out to celebrate his upcoming first solo pay per view win, Roman had agreed. He had told himself that he would limit himself to two beers and call it a night, because dammit, he couldn't say no to those sparkling blue eyes, but he had to keep some distant to stay in control when it came to Mr. Ambrose.
Damn those sparkling blue eyes and those fucking dimples. When Dean laughed and called him, "a fucking pussy" while shoving the small glass of brown liquid his way as they sat at the bar, Dean didn't know how right he was. It had been too long since Roman had seen Dean look so…happy. He really missed those dimples. He wouldn't be the reason Dean's melancholy of the recent weeks returned.
God damn those sparkling blue eyes, those fucking dimples and those perfect lips. After shot number 4 or 5, Dean decided he wanted to dance. Roman was content to watch. Watching Dean was his favorite hobby. Roman always made sure Dean was never aware of his longing stares, but as Dean swayed to the music effortlessly next to him, Roman realized a little too late that he was dangerously close to being caught. Sobering a bit, Roman managed his first, 'No,' of the night when Dean asked Roman to come with him to the dance floor. Dean just took a swig of the beer he was currently nursing before putting the bottle to Roman's lips, encouraging him to drink. Roman took the bottle, drinking quickly, and nearly choked as he felt the feather light touch of Dean pushing a lock of Roman's raven hair behind his ear, the touch making Roman's heart stumble.
"Please, Ro," was all Dean said, and fuck him, Roman would burn this whole place to the ground if Dean asked him in that sexy as sin raspy voice. Roman's sigh of defeat was all Dean needed. Dean didn't give a second thought to grabbing Roman's hand and pulling him to the dance floor, but Roman's heart nearly stopped on contact.
God fucking damn those sparking blue eyes, those fucking dimples, those perfect lips and that ass. Roman's crumbled wall of defense allowed him to openly stare at Dean's ass as the blue eyed man pulled him to the dance floor. Of course, he'd seen it before, and that ass was glorious, but as they hit the floor and started to dance, aided by the copious amount of alcohol in his system, Roman couldn't come up with a reason why he shouldn't touch it. The dance floor was crowded with bodies, that's why Dean was dancing so close. At least that's what Roman would have rationalized had he not been fueled by alcohol and hypnotized by Dean's ass rubbing against him ever so slightly. Dean turned towards Roman and started talking.
"What?" Roman asked, not being able to hear Dean over the loud dance beat. Dean repeated whatever he had said but Roman still couldn't hear him.
Dean rolled his eyes before taking a hand and pulling Roman's head down so he could speak in his ear. "I said, make these bitches jealous, take your hair down." Dean's hands were already in Roman's hair and as Roman felt his hair freefall around his shoulders and down his back it all became too much. Dean's sparkling blue eyes were too close. Dean's fucking dimples and perfect lips created the seamless balance between rugged sexiness and adorable innocence. Dean's ass, so close that it made Roman's cock twitch and his body light up with a need, despite the ample amount of alcohol he consumed.
Acting without the consent of his brain, Roman's hands grabbed Dean's ass, pulling their bodies impossibly close, before crashing his lips down on Dean's in a hard kiss born from holding back so long. By the time his brain caught up, he had Dean's bottom lip in his mouth, and fuck if it didn't taste better than he'd ever dreamed. Roman opened his eyes to see Dean staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face. Dean was always a ball of emotion. You could always tell how Dean felt before he said it just from by looking at him. Shock, anger, those Roman could deal with but blank? Blank scared the shit out of Roman.
And that's how he got to this moment. Really, Roman should have known he wouldn't be able to hide his feelings forever, not from his boy, his Uce, his Dean.
"Fuck, FUCK! Dean, Uce, I'm sorry," Roman spoke quickly, afraid he'd fucked up one of the best things he'd ever had. Dean just took a step back.
"Let's just go, okay?"
The cab ride back to Dean's place was awkwardly silent, with both men looking out of their windows, apparently in deep thought. Roman wondered if Dean would ask him to stay at a hotel tonight. He wouldn't blame Dean if he did. They had a signing and Q&A the next afternoon at Wizard World and Dean had offered his place because, "Dude, why waste money on a room when my place is free?"
Of course Roman had accepted because, any reason to share breathing space with Dean was ideal. The awkward silence continued as they made their way to Dean's door. Roman shuffled from one foot to the other, barely able to keep his balance. Roman stopped abruptly when he heard Dean speak for the first time since the dance floor.
"Roman, I asked you a question. How. Long." Dean was now facing him, key in the lock and his hand gripping the knob firmly. Roman understood immediately what he was being asked, and Dean deserved an honest answer.
"There was always something there," Roman stated, staring at his feet. "But when I was in the hospital, in pain, about to have surgery, the only thing I thought about was you. 'Dean doesn't know what's going on,' 'Dean's gonna be pissed that I let this linger so long,' 'I would give anything just to hear from Dean right now' and when you called me all in a panic before yelling at me when you found out… And then there were your nightly calls from set, they became what I lived for. I just... I don't know, I was- I had to finally put a name on what I was feeling."
Roman looked up when he heard Dean's simple, "Huh," then, "I knew you were hiding something." Dean turned and opened the door walking in, Roman followed, rather timidly for his large size. Closing the door behind him Roman opened his mouth to tell Dean that he would stay at a hotel for the night, but his body connected hard with the door, taking his breath as Dean's mouth swallowed his groan.
The hand that had made its way to Roman's hair tugged slightly, eliciting another groan that was swallowed by Dean. The hand holding Roman's hip made its way under his shirt, each finger shooting bolts of electricity through his body. Roman's foggy brain caught up as Dean's tongue connected with his. The taste of Dean was so intoxicating; Roman growled when Dean's mouth moved from him. However, he visibly shivered when Dean's open mouth kisses traveled to Roman's throat.
"You should have told me," Dean spoke against Roman's collarbone. "I knew something was wrong with you. It's a shame I had to get you shit-faced for you to be honest with me." Dean's tongue swiped against Roman's Adam's apple and Roman's knees went weak.
Roman met Dean's eyes. The confusion Roman felt must have been evident because Dean readily answered the question in Roman's head. "Shit Roman, I wanted you from the first second I laid eyes on you." Dean's hands made quick work of Roman's jeans, dropping them to the floor in record time. Roman's eyes threatened to roll back as Dean's hand made contact with Roman's hot flesh.
But Roman was determined even in his altered state to keep eye contact with Dean, to commit to memory everything he said and did tonight.
"Roman, have you ever, like, fucking looked in a mirror? You're the most beautiful creature I've ever seen." The slow but firm strokes Dean had on Roman's cock were driving him insane.
"Dean I'm gonna come," Roman panted.
"Nah, not yet," Dean said, removing his hand from Roman's cock. Roman watched in awe as Dean licked the drops of pre-come off his thumb, seemingly savoring the taste, the confirmation coming quickly. "You taste amazing Ro. I can't wait to get the rest of it." At that moment Roman's knees did give out and he slid part way down the door before Dean caught him. "I got you Ro. Let's get you to bed."
Roman lay in the familiar guest bed but the current circumstances were anything but. His drunken haze still couldn't completely comprehend what was going on, Dean was currently straddling his legs and staring down his dick down like he was in a title match.
"I thought you were straight." It was the first coherent thought Roman was able to put into words. Dean looked up from his opponent for the night, "Fuck you, Ro. I thought you were straight. 'Sides, you know my past. You really think I could live that life and never once handle a dick that wasn't my own?"
Roman was about to answer but all that came out was a strangled cry as he felt Dean's tongue slide across his slit before fully taking him in his mouth. Feeling Dean's nose touch his pelvis, Roman grabbed the headboard behind him, knuckles turning white as Dean swallowed around his cock.
"Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Where did you learn- God DAMN." Bobbing up and down with a quick fire speed, Dean was a man on a mission, chasing after Roman's orgasm.
"Shit, Bae. You keep going like that, I'll come down your fucking throat and won't get to fuck you later."
Dean finally came up for air. "We aren't fucking tonight. You're drunk. I'm going to get you off and you're going to sleep."
Before Roman could reply, Dean was back on his cock. One hand holding Roman down, the mouth on his cock, tongue teasing his slit while sucking the crown and the other hand firmly stroking what wasn't in his mouth. It was only minutes before Roman felt the familiar coil in his belly, though it seemed to radiate in his fingers and toes.
"Don't fucking stop. I'm so close." Roman's proclamation only seemed to spur Dean on as Roman felt him speed up his ministrations. His fingers tangling in Dean's hair was the only warning Roman could give as his orgasm took over his body. Dean swallowed his load easily before crawling up Roman's body eyes, sparkling and dimples on full display. Before Dean could say anything Roman pulled him down for another kiss, this one less forceful then the first, and less needy than the second, just a coming together of lips slow dancing over each other.
Once parted, Roman held Dean's forehead to his. "I love you."
Dean frowned before removing himself from Roman to lay next to him, both men staring at the ceiling in silence. Minutes ticked by before Roman spoke again. "I mean it, I love you Dean. I love everything about you."
Dean sighed, never taking his eyes off the ceiling, "Ro, you know I don't believe in that shit. Romantic love, hearts and flowers-"
"I love you," Roman said firmly, then hesitated a moment before adding, "And you love me."
A grunt was Dean's only reply.
"That's why you want to wait until I'm sober to fuck."
"No Roman, I want to wait because you and your whiskey dick can't give me an A+ dicking right now."
"Whatever," Roman yawned.
"Roman, I just made you come and you're really fucking drunk, go to sleep."
"Wait. How are you not as drunk as me?" Roman asked, his eyes closing, as he grabbed for Dean's arm and attempted to pull the other man back to him.
Despite himself Dean smiled and allowed himself to be pulled, snuggling close to Roman's big body. "You didn't pay close enough attention. I only had three beers the entire night. I kept giving you shots, I never took any for myself."
"Fuck."
"Nope. Not yet Ro, maybe tomorrow. Now sleep this off, we'll talk more in the morning." When Dean didn't get a reply to his snarky remark, he looked up to see that Roman had already passed out.
Dean took a moment to study his best friend. The way his long lashes rested on his high cheekbones, the flawless caramel colored skin, the full pink lips that he got to taste for the first time tonight. Dean found himself absentmindedly tracing the intricate tattoo on Roman's arm as he thought about how truly god-like he was, not just in looks, but in personality. Roman was a god among men, and he was all his. Wait. What? Fuck. Dean groaned as his stomach flipped happily.
Roman woke up alone the next morning, surprisingly not as hungover as he should have been. Turning to his side, he saw a glass of water, two aspirin, a folded note and a bag sitting on the bedside table. Taking the note Roman read it twice before looking in the bag to find a box of condoms and the largest bottle of mango lube Roman had ever seen.
Ro,
Take the pills you fucking drunk. Take a shower, then take the bag (I went shopping while your drunk ass was drooling all over my sheets) and come to my room. We got that thing later today but we've waited long enough. Come get what's yours. I wanna love you babe.
- Dean
Roman smiled to himself before making his way to the bathroom.
