Wooow! Thank you so much for your reviews, guys! I'm still speechless XD

Actually I wouldn't have guessed that it would get that much feedback at all, so you all made me av ery happy girl here ;3

The sun was shining brightly, bathing the world below in warmth. Roman was sprawling on a bench with his head tilted back, eyes closed as he let the sunshine rain down on him. The school yard was filled with busyness and music here and there and the more or less steady sound of basketballs hitting the ground. The break had just begun, so there quite a bit of time left for his sunbath and also to get his mind to cling to other things than... Han Solo.

With a quiet oof someone flopped down beside him, giving his thigh a friendly clap.

"Thought you've got lost somewhere, dude," he murmured, opening his eyes to look at the newcomer.

Seth. Seth Rollins. They were in the same class and in most of the optional subjects, too, and ever since Roman had joined this school a bit more than a week ago, they were spending most of the day together. It was as if they knew each other for years already. To Roman it felt like he'd found his lost baby brother.

And on top of it all Seth was... eye-candy. Shoulder long, for the most part dark hair except that blond patch on the right side of his head. Athletically slender, well toned, a bit shorter than Roman himself. A surprisingly thick beard growth for his age. Big, brown eyes. Pretty face. Funny, intelligent. Most of the time his hair was a little messy and it made him look too damn cute.

"Funny, Reigns," Seth said, throwing a lunch box at him. "Taking a piss and fetching your lunch from the other end of the fucking building just because you're too lazy to move your butt takes a while."

With a grunt Roman sat up straight, opening the lunch box to let his eyes wander over its content to decide whether he should eat a sandwich with ham or salami.

"You really made that essay for the Spanish class, didn't you?" Seth asked, shifting until he was sitting cross-legged on the bench.

"Yups," Roman replied, picking a ham sandwich.

"It was your first day and you've been spending the whole Spanish class at the principal's office for document shit. Miss Garcia said you don't need to do the essay and you have nothing better to do with your time than doing it nevertheless?" Seth snorted and shook his head while pointing at him with a banana. "Huh, the lady will love you."

He grinned and was just about to bite into his sandwich, as his eyes caught... him... finally, because he'd been looking out for him the whole morning and so he paused, the sandwich halfway to his already opened mouth while his eyes stayed fixed on the walking figure.

Han Solo.

Dean. Seth had told him that Han Solo's name was Dean...

"Watching your damsel in distress?" he heard Seth chuckle.

Roman blinked and watched as Dean kicked an empty coke can out of the way to sit down on the ground, leaning against the building while drawing his knees up. He was wearing shades and an unbuttoned black and white lumberjack shirt with something that looked much like a black wife beater underneath. And blue jeans, torn at the knees. Doc Martens. The blond hair was messy, some strands falling unruly into his forehead. It all, it made him look as tough as it made him look hot. And goddamn cute.

But there was a bad taste lingering in it, because Dean had been limping. That limping though should have been gone already because the collision with chief goon and his colleagues had been four days ago. Maybe not enough time for the bruises and the cuts to heal, yet enough time for the limping to fade.

It hadn't.

And the fact that Dean hadn't been at school in the past four days didn't make it any better.

Roman wasn't sure what to think about all this, but what he knew was that it gave him a bad feeling.

Dean...

The words had been spread pretty quickly that Roman had been helping the school freak and although he'd been waiting for negative reactions from the other students, it had only been a few raised eyebrows he'd gotten for it. But even if there had been more, he couldn't have cared less.

He had never been the type of guy who watched people being bullied or ganged up on.

Helping Dean had been the right thing to do. And really... he couldn't remember having done anything that had felt that right in his entire life.

... Dean...

It's been Dean's eyes what had caught him that first time their gazes locked. Blue eyes and pain had been written in them. Tired eyes. But without the faintest trace of fear or surrender.

Tough.

Even lying there after being beaten up badly, Dean had fought back, had tried to take them down somehow. Roman had seen it. And then instead of getting out of the line of fire, Dean had climbed to his feet, knowing that they might lose the fight. He'd risked another beating although he'd been in pain and almost too exhausted to even stand upright.

Four days. He'd spend four days with thinking about Dean, hoping every day he would get a chance to talk to him at school. Or maybe even after school because although Dean had told him to stay away, he didn't believe that it really was what the other man wanted. Actually... his eyes had been saying something else...

His chest was still tightening every time his mind showed him the picture of Dean, all bloody and bruised. Limping. And some of the bruises, scratches and cuts hadn't been fresh, what meant that either Dean was either the type who asked for trouble or... or the type who did not ask for it, still ended up being in trouble and didn't back down.

However... that day he'd felt like taking him home with him and make it good. Somehow.

Hell, he didn't even know Dean and he already... he had crush on him.

Roman puffed a soundless little laughter.

If you looked for the word pretty in a dictionary, it wouldn't be a picture of Dean you'd find there. Dean wasn't pretty. He rather was the epitome of raw beauty. Handsome. That rough tinge in his features, it made him... hot. And if you wiped all the bad boy attitude aside and took a look at what was lying underneath, then you noticed kissable lips and sexy bedroom eyes, shining with a faithful glow. Soft features and a warmth that was lying in them. Roman had seen it there in his car, when Dean's guarded expression had wavered, always only briefly though.

Four days of thinking about Dean and how he would get past his defense and to that real Dean who was protected with all the other man had to put up. He wanted to get to know him better. Needed to.

Yes, this guy fascinated him. And fuck, he... huh, he had a crush on Dean... a goddamn fucking crush...

The sandwich was being taken out of his hand and it was what made him snap back to the here and now and when he looked over to Seth, he was greeted by a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"Stop staring holes into the poor guy," Seth sniggered, shaking his head softly.

"How good do you know him?" Roman murmured, his eyes instantly seeking Dean again.

"Mmh not really good. We've talked a few times, yeah, but he's... difficult. He doesn't have friends as far as I know. Most of the others here shun him but it seems that he wants to be all on his own anyway," Seth shrugged, peeling a banana.

"Is that so?" Roman hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "He looks like the perfect mix of James Dean and John Bender," he added, more to himself than to Seth though.

"John who?" Seth asked, the words muffled by a mouthful of banana.

Tilting his head a little, Roman let his eyes wander over the sitting man who was drawing his knees a little more up, resting his forearms on them. Dean had his fingers interlaced and one of his thumbs was tapping an unsteady rhythm. His head was dipped back against the wall behind him.

"The Breakfast Club?" he said, not taking his eyes off of Dean. "John Bender? Shades, half-long and dark hair? Jeans, lumberjack shirt, denim jacket and heavy boots?"

And affirmative grunt told him that Seth finally got who he meant.

"Only that he doesn't look the least bit like them," Seth snorted, stuffing the next piece of banana in his mouth.

"Huh?"

"His face. He's far from being a James Dean or Judd Nelson."

"What... no. I don't mean his face, I mean his looks. It all. His style, you know? His clothes, his demeanor. Being the cool, rough and tough bad boy and all that."

"I guess lone wolf fits better. But careful, Rome, this wolf bites."

Roman watched as a group of five guys walked right towards Dean and he was already about to head over as he saw them turn a bit to their right to vanish through a door. He released a breath he hadn't even realised he was holding. It was Seth's quiet chuckle that caught his attention and frowning he finally glanced over to his friend.

"What's so funny?"

"Almost looks as if you have a crush on him," Seth mumbled through some more banana.

Turning his head towards Seth, he gave him a smile that was as soft as it was serious as he replied: "Might be because I do have a crush on him."

The next thing he did was flipping the banana pieces from his shirt and thighs that Seth coughed out as he almost choked on the bite he had been chewing on. Still trying to actually breathe again, Seth stared at Roman who nodded. Brown eyes widened, becoming impossibly big. His features smoothed in realisation that Roman was actually serious about it.

"You..." Again some coughing and then, still somewhat choked: "You're gay?"

Snatching a bottle of water from his backpack, Roman held it out towards him.

Frowning, Roman replied: "Yeah. That a problem for you?

"I... what? No! Nono, I don't have a problem with you being into guys," Seth quickly assured, taking a bottle for a hearty gulp. "You just don't, uhm... look... gay...?"

The frown on Roman's face morphed to an amused expression as he chuckled: "How do you think do gays look usually? All clad in pink or what?"

"Uhm... no, I just... dunno," the other man mumbled sheepishly. "Your teammates will be a little suprised though that their defense tackle swings the other way."

"They gotta live with it," Roman shrugged. And then he shot Seth a broad grin. "I could ask the coach for a pink gear. Would that make me look gay enough for your taste?"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it, Reigns, I get it. Huh, gives spear him a whole new meaning..." Still grinning, Roman flipped him the bird and gazed back to Dean, who hadn't moved an inch. "But really," he heard Seth add quietly. "Out of all people you go and pick that construction site of a guy? Ambrose spells trouble."

"Ever thought about that maybe he just needs a friend? A real one?"

"Ever thought about that he maybe, just maybe doesn't want a friend? Not even a real one?" Seth pointed out.

Roman nodded slightly and once again shrugged his shoulders then.

"He told me to stay away, yeah, but he didn't look like he really means it," he murmured.

"U-hu. So your plan is, what, to friend him to death now?"

"Exactly that." Snapping the lunch box shut, he gave Seth's thigh a clap, grabbed his backpack and got up. "You coming?" he asked, already starting to walk over to an unsuspecting Dean.

"Coming? What... hey! Where the heck are you...? Reigns...!" Seth called, stopping mid-sentence to groan loudly.

The sound of quick steps indicated that Seth was catching up with him.

"Why am I even asking?" he heard him grumble. "Just try not to beam too much at him."

"That obvious?" Roman frowned.

"Oh, nono, except that you have this silly smile on your face when you look at him."

Roman felt his ears heat up and unfortunately he couldn't blame the sun for it.

"Oooh, someone's being embarrassed here!"

"Not funny, Rollins..."

"Actually it is pretty funny, bro."

The short distance was passed quickly and as they reached Dean, it seemed as if he was oblivious of their presence, at least for another few seconds and due to the shades he was wearing, Roman wasn't sure whether he had his eyes closed or if he actually saw them and simply tried to ignore them. There was a muttered get out of my sun.

"Hello to you, too, Captain Solo," Roman greeted him and lowered himself down to the ground in front of him.

Seth followed suit, gazing back and forth between them curiously. Dean froze a second, sighed then and dipped his head forward while pulling the shades off. One could have said that it was like grasping at straws here, but Roman felt a happy tingling in his chest to see that it wasn't a fuck off expression on the other man's face but a mildly surprised and rather positive one. Much as if Dean hadn't expected him to stick to his words.

"Haven't I told you to stay away?"

"Yup," he replied grinning.

There was a twinkling in those blue eyes. Not annoyance but something... nice.

"Why am I not surprised?" Pursing his lips, Dean looked over to Seth. "Did he force you to be his friend, too?"

"It's not that bad to be friends with him," Seth shrugged and stole a sandwich from the lunch box which Roman had just opened again. "Although he's a bit annoying and stubborn at times."

Delivering a friendly smack to the back of Seth's head, Roman grumbled: "Snap your mouth shut, you little shit."

Light sniggering from Seth and the following short absence of words was filled with the sound of a growling stomach, coming from Dean's direction and it caused Roman to hold the lunch box out towards him.

"Uhm... no, thanks."

"Take. One."

"No..."

"Just take a sandwich. We both know he'll bug you until you do take one anyway," Seth chimed in.

"It isn't poisoned, you know?" Roman added, holding the box right under Dean's nose.

"No, 's yours."

"Man, you're one stubborn mule, Ambrose. Just take a fucking sandwich. My mom made too many anyway."

"Your mom still makes you lunch for school?" Dean muttered incredulously, finally picking a sandwich from the box.

"Well, yeah. Good for me, so I can haul my ass out of bed at the last minute."

The glance Dean gave the sandwich was wary. He blinked... and carefully took a bite, as if he still wasn't sure if it really was edible. And then he practically inhaled the poor thingy, taking a second one as Roman again held the lunch box out to him.

For the rest of the break they kept sitting there and while Seth and Roman were chatting busily, Dean was quiet most of the time, only saying a word when one of them asked him something. Sometimes he even only gave a grunt or a hum. The way he sat there, leaning against the wall with his knees still drawn up and his arms resting in his lap, with his head dipped back and his eyes half closed while gazing at them a bit absentmindedly... Roman couldn't help but think that Dean looked... exhausted. As if he hadn't been sleeping for days.

Roman stole glances, every time Dean looked at Seth or somewhere else and there hidden under the lumberjack shirt yet peeking out from under it a bit there were shadows. Like... bruises. Not the old ones from that day he'd found him lying on the ground but... those he saw there now, they looked fresher. And there on his face, his neck and chest and arms, weren't there new scratches? It all matched the limping that should have been much better already.

The expression on the other man's face ranged from uninterested over neutral to mildly amused and given the fact that Dean made no move to get up and leave, being in their company seemed not to be all to bad for him and slowly the mood that was hanging in the air between them became comfortable. Maybe also because the focus wasn't lying on Dean, he didn't feel the urge to leave.

Still there were those two times Roman's and Dean's gazes locked that were different. It was the tinge that was lying in the sky blue orbs, inquiring, pondering... making him feel weighed, valued and not yet labeled as okay.

It was the bell that eventually called them to get up from their sunbathed spot and as they made their way back into the building, with Seth chattering at his right side and Dean walking silently two steps ahead of them, he wished that he could take just one single glance at what was going on behind those walls Dean was trying to keep up to fiercely...

About one and a half hour later the world saw an absentminded Roman heading for his car, releasing a faraway sounding bye into the air every time he passed someone he knew. The last class had been Spanish and it had been a pleasant surprise that Dean was in that class, too. Less pleasant had been to see that as everyone went to the teacher to give her the essay that had been homework, it was only Dean who did not go to her. Less pleasant because her first words when she came in had been that if Dean hadn't done homework this time, that he would be in big trouble.

Seth had shot Roman a frown as he gave him the essay he'd written, whispering to him to give it the teacher and tell her that it was Dean's.

He still couldn't file the stare Dean had given him the moment he'd realised what Roman had just done...

With a sigh Roman retrieved the key of his car from his pocket... and slowled down as his eyes fell on a figure, leaning against his car.

Dean.

His heart fluttered.

He swallowed hard, heaved another sigh and straigthened up as he kept walking towards his car. The worst thing that could happen was Dean telling him to fuck off and to be honest, it wouldn't stop him to get past the other man's defense.

"What do you want?" Dean asked lowly, not moving a inch, not gazing up to him.

"Shouldn't I be the one asking you that? You're the one who's waiting for me at my car," Roman replied, slowly approaching the other man.

"You fucking know what I mean, Reigns!"

Now Dean did look up and although his voice was sharp and like a verbal shove, actually really stopping him, it was once more what Roman saw in those blue eyes that told him... that something was hiding behind the fuck off demeanor.

For a second they only gazed at each other.

Faithful eyes...

"I like you," Roman said because... why not saying it?

He took another step closer... and he lifted a hand to gingerly touch a dark bruise on the other man's cheek. Dean flinched. Hard. His eyes widened slightly. And then Roman's hand was slapped away.

Fuck, Roman thought, not sure what was worse: the fact that he simply had touched Dean without asking if it was okay or that Dean had flinched like that because of careful touch.

"Don't you fucking touch my face!" Dean growled and turned away.

Two steps later Roman managed to move, catching up with him with two big strides to lay a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to stop him. What he got was a handful of the shirt, the collar being pulled down the other man's shoulder a little and...

... bruises... not older than... a day or two maybe...

"Dean, wait!" he urged, begged even.

It hurt him to see it and he wanted to apologize and he wanted to ask what had happened... but he didn't get the chance to say another word.

With a quiet and hoarse cry on his lips Dean spun around... and his fist connected with Roman's jaw. Pain exploded in Roman's face while he stumbled backwards, ending up sitting on his ass on the ground and with a groan he covered the left side of his face with his hand. Screwing his eyes shut against the pain, he expected Dean to use the chance and leave, but there was no sound of steps, only of ragged breathing, coming from the other man.

Quietness, for a few seconds.

Dean was still there.

With a sigh Roman looked at the other man who... kneeled. Dean kneeled on the ground like frozen, slightly bowed bowed forward while holding his middle. His shoulders were hunched and tense and he was breathing fast. His backpack was lying on the ground beside him and his lumberjack shirt had slipped down a little, now revealing the whole shoulder. Bruises. Scratches...

Dean side-glanced him and those baby blues... I didn't want that. It stood there. Roman could see it.

Rubbing his sore jaw, Roman got up from the ground and slowly, oh so slowly approached Dean until there was barely a meter between them left and hesitantly he kneeled down, too.

He wouldn't give up now.

"Who did that?" he asked quietly, balling his hands to fists to keep himself from touching him. No answer. "Dean, I really do like you and..."

"Why?" Dean interrupted him, his voice just above a whisper.

"Why not?" Roman replied softly and inched a tad closer. "What's wrong with your stomach?"

No answer again although Dean obviously was in pain. Maybe sore ribs and a wrong movement as he'd thrown the punch...? His eyes found back to the bruised shoulder and although he knew better, he reached out and tugged the shirt back in place, covering the evidence of something that should never have happened. Again Dean flinched.

"Let me be your friend, Dean."

He watched as Dean seemed to sag a little, his head dipping forward so he couldn't see what was going on on Dean's face.

"I don't care what people say about you and I don't give a flying fuck if they're okay with us being friends. I'm not gonna let you drop because they think you're the wrong guy to hang out with," Roman added, allowing his hand to rest on the other man's shoulder. This time he did not flinch. "But if you really don't want it, then look me in the eye, tell me to go and I won't bother you again."

He waited, seconds which seemed endlessly long and although it was a good sign that Dean was hesitating instead of directly looking at him and telling him to go, it still felt like Dean was about to slip from his fingers.

Not that he'd ever really had gotten a hold on him, had he?

"You... huh, you really are a pain in the ass, Reigns..." Dean muttered eventually, looking back up to Roman with weariness dulled eyes which flicked over his face... as if Dean tried to find a hint that this was a joke or... a trap maybe.

It took Roman a moment to understand that this was maybe the closest to an okay he would get. His heart jumped a little bit.

"You'll get used to it," Roman smiled softly.

And wasn't there the faintest of smiles, too, ghosting on Dean's lips? A bit unbelievingly maybe, but at least not bitter.

Dean was giving him a chance. It was a start...

The sudden dull growling from the major direction of Dean's stomach made Roman frown and Dean mutter something under his breath.

"How about we go and grab a burger?" Roman suggested.

Shaking his head, Dean grumbled: "No..."

"Come on, I'm inviting you," Roman said, standing up and he saw Dean open his mouth to protest, obviously, because it was written all over his face. "I'm not gonna discuss about it," he added before Dean could actually say it aloud.

Dipping his head forward, Dean shook it slightly no while something between a laughter and a snort fell from his lips, before he moved to get up. Roman held a hand out towards him, both to help him up and to seal the deal, and when the other man's gaze fell on it, there was the briefest flicker of doubt in those blue orbs. He knew that this wouldn't be the last time he'd seen it. Doubt. Wariness. The walls this man had built around himself were strong and Roman guessed that the marks he saw on Dean only were tiny traces of the real extent of what he had endured... and still did.

And despite it all Dean was tough as nails. No retreat, no surrender.

Still... there was so much more behind what he showed the world that he was and he was protecting it with teeth and claws.

He wanted to help Dean. How, he wasn't sure. Not yet. Being him a friend was the first step.

A hand closed around his own in a firm grip and he gently pulled the other man up until he was standing again, close, and their hands were still joined. Fact was, if he summed up the effective time they had spent together, then it wasn't even half a day they, well, knew each other. Fact was, Roman didn't want to let go of the warm hand in his own. Fact was also, that his eyes just dropped to those lips which looked soft despite the damage they had taken within the past few days and he felt the urge to find out how soft they really were.

Fact was... he had it bad for Dean...

But instead of doing something tempting and stupid as kissing the man in front of him, he let go of his hand and bent down to pick Dean's backpack up, handing it over to its owner. Something shifted in Dean's eyes, allowing a glance on a mass of things which were going on in this stubborn head. Not that Roman could read it, not yet at least, but he would learn to.

Throwing the backpack over his shoulder, Dean shifted his stance and scratched the back of his head while gnawing at his bottom lip. His other hand was curled around shoulder strap of the backpack. His thumb was tapping it lightly, a bit nervously, too.

"Sorry for, you know, the punch," Dean muttered sheepishly.

"No, 's okay. Kneejerk reaction," Roman shrugged.

"It's just... uhm..." Dean let his hand drop from the mop of blond locks down and stuffed into the pocket of his jeans. "I don't like people touching me or holding on to me..."

And while he said that, his shoulders tensed a bit.

"You told me to keep my hands off and I didn't listen. I'm the one who has to apologize. Sorry, man." Gingerly rubbing his sore jaw, he added grinning: "But fuck, feels like a horse just kicked me in the face." His grin faded with a silent sigh he breathed then, lifting his hand to the other man's shoulder but before he actually touched it, he stopped, merely poiting at it while telling himself to stop touching Dean just like that. "How did that happen?"

"Ran into a fist. Knocked me off my feet before I could kick him in the balls."

Roman bit back a wince. Dean had a note in his voice when he said things like that, an odd and all too sober way, that it ached to hear him speak about it. A certain sickness was taking residence in his guts because the first time he'd met him, Dean had flinched because of a soft touch and this time he'd lost it, had thrown a punch that had been meant to keep away. It wasn't a wonder that he didn't want to be touched, was it, when most of the time touches brought pain to him.

"Why did he do that?" Roman said hushed, his hands clenching to fists.

Who he was... he wanted to ask it, but he was sure he wouldn't get an answer to it. He had an idea though.

"Just because," was the rather curt reply.

"Just because," he parroted, furrowing his brows.

"Yeah, fuck, the fucker didn't give a fucking lecture on why he wants to knock my teeth out, man!"

Holding his hand up placatory, Roman said: "Calm down, dude."

"Haven't been spoiling for a fight if that's what you mean, okay?" Dean snapped half-heartedly.

"No, it's not what I meant," Roman replied lowly. "It's just... I mean, just look at you. It shouldn't be like this."

"Huh, yeah, you're fucking right. It shouldn't be like this but it fucking is like this and I can't do a fucking thing about it..."

Dean trailed off mid-sentence, pressing his lips to a thin line while his features smoothed in a weird way. The nervous tapping of his thumb on the shoulder strap stopped. He looked as if he had just spilled more than he ever wanted to. Exhaling a heavy breath, Dean dipped his head back, closed his eyes and muttered something under his breath that sounded much like goddamn idiot.

A moment later he met Roman's gaze again, rubbing the back of his neck while mumbling: "Uh, I guess I should thank you. For the essay and, uhm, for saving my ass from chief goon and his men."

"Anytime, Captain Solo..."

It bestowed him a grin and maybe he was only imagining things, but it seemed a wee bit less... guarded... less wary already. It was good. It was fucking worth having a sore jaw.

"Burger?" Roman suggested again but Dean shook his head no.

"Gotta go home."

Dean's grin fell at his own words and Roman couldn't help but ask: "You sure...?"

A nod. The grin stayed away.

"Okay then, I'll give you a ride," he said, this time not bugging Dean for going for a burger because his expression told him that Dean really had to go home... although he probably rather wanted to be going anywhere else... but home...

"Next time maybe," Dean answered, smiling a tiny, crooked smile that was more sad than anything else.

With that Dean turned around to leave and while he was walking away, Roman noticed the limping again and how the other man turned his head just a bit, as if he wanted to gaze back over his shoulder, yet not... as if he was pondering over something or maybe considering to change his mind after all. A hesitating step followed. But he didn't stop, didn't come back.

"See you at school tomorrow, Han Solo!" Roman called after him.

He watched as Dean turned around to him, slowly keeping on walking backwards for a few step while gifting him a smile, an honest one, before turning away again and for long moments Roman kept standing there, gazing after him.

The smile left with Dean. But the images of something that was wrong beyond words... stayed...

- tbc -

Now, got a few words for me, too? :)

A/N: So, first chapter we've been guest in Dean's head, this time in Roman's. Would you guys like me to keep switching like this or would you rather want the rest of the story from only one of their sides?