Some Ambreigns for you to make the weekly Monday Blues better :3
Thanks to all of you who left me a review to the last chapter! I know, I'm a bad girl for always ending the chapters with cliffhangers... but how's the saying go? Good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere and since I'd love seeing the whole world, I'll stick with being a bad girl ;)
Enjoy!
PS: Please don't mind grammar and spelling mistakes too much, have to correct it tonight. After finishing this, I was screenblind ;3
Soft. He was engulfed in cotton candy like softness, feeling all warm and snugly and sheltered. For what might have been minutes or hours, he didn't know and actually didn't care because it was too perfect, he was floating in this world of just feeling good, drifting between peaceful blackness and calm twilight and the longer he dwelled in that twilight, the more he became aware of that one so familiar scent that cocooned him. That special fragrance that made him feel perfectly safe.
Ro...
Light. That was how he felt. Somehow... light. Freed. He'd had moments in the past days when he'd already thought that he was feeling freed but now... huh, funny. As if a mountain had been lifted from his chest but wasn't that what had happened the last night? With a little help from Superman though who'd used his strength to help him lift it.
With a sigh he curled around the pillow he was holding to his chest. Roman's pillow. It smelled of him... and the scent filled his senses, dyed the fog of half-sleep that held him in the land of twilight, making it a sheltering blanket of Roman scented peace...
Minutes? Maybe. Or hours...? Until a soft touch urged him to emerge from nowhere-land. A hand, tenderly stroking his hair and even though he was still more asleep than awake, he knew instantly that this wasn't Roman's touch, not his hand. It was different. Good. But not like Roman's. Still his lips formed his friend's name and maybe the breath that passed them carried it to be heard by the world around him. Maybe. Maybe not. The name tasted so very good on his tongue. Sweet. So sweet...
A hushed voice was calling him. The hand kept brushing over his hair slowly and he hummed because although it wasn't Roman's hand, it felt good. Faintly another scent crept into his senses. Coffee. And pancakes...?
"Wake up, Dean..."
The voice got clearer now. Mommy Reigns. Humming, he hugged the pillow a bit tighter while cracking his eyes open a little. It was a breathtakingly motherly smile that greeted him, spiced with a certain trace of worry but so warm and soft and affectionate that it washed over him like a sunny breeze. The hand in his hair wandered down to settle on the side of his face, a thumb running carefully over his sore cheek. Her smile brightened. And he smiled back, a tiny and sleepy but genuinely happy smile because this... it was as if this was his mom. The mom he'd never been allowed to have, she was sitting here on the edge of the mattress, waking him like she would wake her own son, caressing his hair and softly calling him... and she was looking at him like she would look at Roman... and it did something funny to his belly. It was warm and sweet. Happiness...
"Morning, baby," she said quietly, tilting her head a little to the side as her eyes roamed his face. "How are you feeling?"
Allowing his eyes to drift close again for a moment while turning his face into Roman's pillow, he mumbled: "Better. M'feeling better..."
"That's good." He could hear relief in her voice. The mattress dipped then... before a kiss was placed on his temple. "I've made pancakes for you," she murmured and once more the mattress moved under him as she stood up. "I'll be waiting in the kitchen, okay?"
At his nod she stood up, again smiling brightly at him before she left the room, followed by Dean's gaze who had never before felt so... at home...
Dean's eyes were wandering over the mass of clothes while the noise which was raining down on him only faintly trickled into his busy mind. People bumped into him as he followed mommy Reigns through the shop and he had a hard time to keep track on what she was saying and asking because his head was still spinning... from what had happened last night and also from all that had happened this morning. The hospital and... giving evidence.
Turning his head a little to the side, he drew a shoulder up and pressed his nose against the soft fabric of the track jacket he was wearing, taking a deep breath. It was Roman's track jacket. Much too big for him actually but it smelled of Roman, made him feel good and safe. His hands were hidden in its pockets and what he was holding in his right hand, it was adding to the good and safe feeling Roman's scent was causing in him. His thumb brushed over the surface of the small item. It was the cell Roman had given him, the one his stepfather had crushed. Silly maybe to take it along with him this morning but the mere thought of being able to hold it in his hand while telling the police every little thing that his stepfather had done to him had made him feel better, so it hadn't been a question if the small device would accompany him or not.
Giving the phone one last loving touch, he pulled his hands out of the pockets and reached for a black hoody, unfolding it to eye the simple piece of clothing. It was cheap and would do the job and...
"Oh baby, no, put that back," mommy Reigns sighed, shaking her head no. A soft smile graced her lips as she took the hoody out of his hands and put it back. "We're here to buy you some clothes, not a bag to hide in."
Putting it back down, he muttered: "It's a black hoody not a bag."
He watched as a frown formed on her face.
"It's summer. We'll get you a few pants and t-shirts. The hoody can wait until winter," she stated, taking his hand to drag him along to a rack with shirts.
"But t-shirts won't hide the..." he began and almost ran into her as she suddenly stopped and turned around to him, the frown on her face deepening.
She brought a hand to his face, cupping it gently.
"Dean... you don't need to hide it. It's nothing to be ashamed about. It wasn't your fault and anyone who dares saying a bad word about it to you will have to deal with Roman, Sika or me, okay?" He wanted to say something but... he had no idea what to say at all. There was a thank you lying on his tongue and an I'm scared because... he was. Scared of the glances it would earn him to put the bruises on display. And there were so many things but all that left his mouth was a defeated sigh. It was enough though it seemed because the frown left her face. "Look, the bruises will be gone in a few days but if you want a hoody, then we'll find you one, okay? Not that one though. It looks cheap."
"It is cheap," Dean murmured, dropping his gaze to the floor. "I don't want you to spend so much money on me and..."
"Oh, shush," she cut him off softly. "Don't be silly."
With that she leaned in, delivering a kiss to his forehead before drawing back, again taking his hand to lead him to the shirts...
He'd been staring at the opposite wall ever since they had arrived here. The chairs of the waiting room weren't much comfortable and the tang of hospital was causing a certain sickness to settle in his guts. Even if you weren't sick, hospitals certainly made you feel like you were. Huh. A sting made him aware that he was gnawing on his lips and the hand that settled on his own stopped it from plucking nervously on the sleeve of his jacket. That, too, had gone unnoticed by him. Involuntary his right shoulder began to twitch and he wondered how long it would take him to get rid of his nervous habits. Or if he would ever get rid of them at all.
"What's wrong, baby?" he heard Roman's mom ask quietly, her hand not leaving his own.
Yeah, what was wrong? Actually nothing. He was here to let the doc check on his kidney and the cut on his forehead. Nothing to be nervous about, right? But maybe it wasn't his appointment here at the hospital but the one at the police in about forty minutes.
I wished Ro could be here...
"Well if you'd feel better having him with you at the police department, then I can call the officer and make an appointment in a few days," she said while retrieving her phone from her pocket.
It was now that he realised that he hadn't only thought that but had also said it aloud. Oops... Reluctantly he glanced over to her, finding her holding the phone, ready to dial while looking at him in question.
"I, uhm... no," he replied hushed, the corners of his mouth twitching in something close to a sheepish smile. "No, s'okay. It's better if I get it over with. The sooner I can draw a line under it, the better."
She nodded. Fingers curled around his own and a thumb began to brush back and forth over his knuckles soothingly. For a moment she just looked at him in silence and it seemed as if she wanted to ask something, maybe not being sure how to ask it and after a few seconds he had to gaze away because somehow it made him feel uneasy. He didn't pull his hand away though. Her touch felt comforting and it was what he needed. Comfort. His hand being squeezed gently announced the question that followed then.
"Don't get me wrong now and... you don't need to answer my question if you don't want to..." she murmured, leaning a little closer to him. "Roman is more than just a friend for you, isn't he?"
He tried his best not to swallow too obvious on the lump that formed in his throat. How was he supposed to understand this question? There was more than one way to interpret it.
"He, you know... he's like a brother for me."
A save answer, wasn't it? And the truth. Roman was like a brother for him. Only... that he was also more than a brother...
"Okay," mommy Reigns said, again squeezing his hand lightly. "Okay..." A second or two of quietness followed. Then: "But that's not all, is it?" His eyes widened slightly but he didn't look at her. His right shoulder though twitched traitorously. "It's okay, Dean. You don't need to answer this. I just want you to know... Roman told me that he likes you very much and if there is more from your side, then it's okay for Sika and me." Her thumb faltered in its trail as there was no reaction from him. He couldn't react. How... what... should he do, say? His heart thumped uncomfortably in his chest even though he had no idea why. Roman's parents were okay with it. Them. He should be happy, shouldn't he? "I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention to make you feel uncomfortable, it's just that we talk about everything openly in our family."
From the corner of his eye he noticed how she leaned a bit forward, seeking his gaze while she brought her other hand up, smoothing a hand over his hair. She only meant well, he knew that. Her straightforward nature was just... unfamiliar... and it was what he wanted to tell her, that it was okay and that it wasn't her fault but before he could even say a word, a nurse stepped up to them.
"Dean Ambrose?" the young woman asked, He looked up to her, nodding. "The doctor's waiting for you. Your mother can come with you if you want."
His eyes flicked over to mommy Reigns. Should he say that she wasn't his mother? Maybe it made her feel uncomfortable that the nurse mistook her for his mother? God knew, he wished she was but...
"Would you feel better if I came with you, baby?" Patricia asked, gracing him with her warm motherly smile that he had come to love within this short time already.
Her hand was still holding his and his own fingers curled around hers now as this new and still so very unfamiliar feeling that was there ever since he'd moved in with Roman got stronger. It was the feeling of having a family. A handful of days... this woman barely knew him, yet...
"Yeah..." he breathed, blinking as he felt a stinging in his eyes, briefly closing them because he didn't want to cry right now.
"Then I'm coming with my son," he heard her say to the nurse, felt her stand up and gently tug at his hand to follow.
She turned around to him, unfolding a shirt to hold it up and to his chest, probably to check the size. Her pursed lips and the raised eyebrow told him that she wasn't happy with this shirt and a second later she turned away from him again to hunt for another shirt. The idea of not having to hide the evidence of his stepfather's wrongly canalized rage anymore was such an abstract idea that it still felt unreal to him yet even if he would wait until the bruises faded, it was only a matter of days until all traces were gone. And it would be another piece of freedom, wouldn't it?
Absentmindedly he walked over to a shelf with jeans, his eyes roaming the different cuts. Unsure which one he should try, he shrugged his shoulders and decided to look for his size in the nearest stack. A moment later Patricia appeared at his side, handing him a pair of cargo pants and a few shirts before she shooed him towards a changing cubicle where she tugged the curtain close, telling him that she would wait right in front of it.
For a few second he just stood there, gazing the clothes in his hands. The price tags which were dangling from them showed him prices that made him swallow. He'd never even remotely possessed clothes in a price category like this and now he was standing here with two pants and three shirts that were far from being well-priced without having to think twice if he could effort even one of the shirts.
"I can hear you think, Dean. Stop that and just try if the clothes fit," mommy Reigns called and he could hear a frown her voice as well as a smile.
Well, so Roman didn't only have her tactile nature and his antennae for noticing that something wasn't okay just by looking at him but also the talent to hear him think. Obviously. Putting the clothes on a small bench, he got rid of the track jacket and grabbed the hem of his shirt to pull it over his head, hesitating momentarily as his eyes found his reflection in the mirror that showed him an image that wasn't new to him. Worn jeans which were a little too big for him and torn at the knees, an old tank top that looked as worn as the jeans. Bruises, peeking out from under the tank top. But while all those years he'd thought that his clothes were perfect for him because he was looking just as battered as they did... right now it wasn't what the mirror showed him. Those old clothes looked wrong on him now. Giving himself a curt nod, he took his clothes off...
Nervously plucking at the sleeve of his jacket, Dean looked anywhere but at the officer on the opposite side of the table. Dean's hands were resting in his lap and out of sight for the man, but the way the officer glanced up at him every now and then from his notebook on which he was typing his report told him that he'd noticed how nervous Dean was. The walls of the office were plain and the mood in here cold and somehow... it made him feel guilty for... whatever. As if he wasn't here to give evidence but because he'd done something really bad and maybe he felt like this because the last times he'd been at the police it had been after another attempt to run away and back then people always had thought of him as a punk, treating him like some piece of shit.
A hand settled on his own with a soft pressure, stopping the plucking. It was Patricia's hand which was looking rather small how it lay there on his own, yet this small hand and the light touch were powerful enough to quieten his nervousness a little, working calmingly. Still he wished Roman could be here. Having Roman at his side always made him feel safe. It was like hiding behind Superman's presence...
"We can stop anytime if you don't feel good," mommy Reigns said hushed but he only shook his head no.
Just like yesterday when he'd told Roman everything, he had to fight with himself again now to tell the officer those things that had happened from the first day his stepfather had stepped into his life up to that night Roman had come to get him out there. Maybe it was a little easier than yesterday but it was still harsh and bitter and the truth etched his throat raw on its way out into the open and getting rid of it both made him feel sick to the guts and relieved. Patricia had paled visibly during his report, her tense features speaking of how much she had to hold back. Whether it was rage that was boiling behind the otherwise carefully blank expression or if she had to hold back tears... and maybe it was exactly that because her eyes looked suspiciously glassy... she sure was shocked. Yesterday he'd only told her about his nightmare and she had been shaken by it. Maybe it would have been fair to warn her about coming in here with him to hear all the shit or even ask her to wait outside. It was too late now.
Looking up from his notebook, the officer asked him a few things and the baseless guilt Dean was feeling intensified as the man shot him a gaze that said pretty clearly that if the circumstances were different and the definite evidences which existed weren't that obvious, that he wouldn't believe him. It pushed a button in Dean and before he even knew what was happening something in him... snapped...
"Don't you fucking look at me as if this shit is my fucking fault!" he yelled, jumping up from his chair.
In a blink Patricia was standing, too, her hand on his shoulder gently urging him to sit down again while the officer stared at him shocked about the sudden outburst.
"Calm down, baby, I'm sure the officer doesn't think that." Faintly he noticed that her voice sounded as tense as her features were. "Right, officer?"
The man nodded. And Dean did not believe him but... did it make a difference? Whether this man believed him or not? This time there was no question of guilt that had to be clarified, no doubts about what had happened.
But how was the saying go? Burnt child dreads the fire.
She sat down again, her hand wandering down to his wrist to gently pull him down, too. Reluctantly he followed.
Answering the questions, he made sure not to leave anything out and as he looked over to mommy Reigns, he watched how she got paler with every little detail he revealed, felt how her hold on his wrist, though still gentle, got firmer bit by bit, probably to soothe him and give him the feeling that he wasn't alone... and maybe because she needed something to hold on.
Sneaking a hand into his pocket, his fingers curled around the broken cell while listening to the officer as he explained him which options he had now, that his stepfather would be put on trial and that Dean could join the action and press charges against his stepfather because of emotional and physical abuse and grievous bodily harm.
Running his thumb over the small item in his hand, he didn't bother to hold back the grim smile of satisfaction as he said: "Fuck yes, I want to see the bastard rot in jail..."
X
The school yard was almost empty as Dean crossed it on his way to the football field. Roman wasn't expecting him but since they had been done quicker with their little shopping tour, mommy Reigns had dropped him off here so he could watch the last minutes of Roman's training. He was still so lost in his thoughts that he nearly jumped out of his skin as a hand closed around his shoulder. Spinning around, he pulled away, taking a step back and his eyes found... Seth. Seth who was looking at him with big brown eyes.
"I'm sorry, Dean. Really. I didn't want that."
Quietly spoken and it was wearing a heavily guilty note... and Dean wasn't sure to what Seth was referring here. That he had just startled him like this or... to what had happened between him and Roman. Narrowing his eyes, Dean took another step back as this green-eyed part in him reared its ugly head at the very thought of Seth and Roman in the shower and...
Fuck!
Stuffing his hands into the pockets of his track jacket to hide that he was balling them to fists, he wiped his face carefully blank. He hadn't lost a thought about what he would say to Seth if he met him again because fuck, there hadn't been any fucking time yesterday to think about that, but now that they were standing here, the quiet ember of being disappointed and even angry suddenly sparked brightly.
"You can't have Roman," he forced out in something close to a growl and briefly the brown eyes widened even more before their gaze dropped to the ground. "Leave your hands off of him."
When Seth gazed back up there was sadness written all over his face.
"I'm your friend, Dean," he sighed, attempting to take a step towards Dean who just straightened up a little more in a silent just don't do it, effectively stopping him with it.
"Yeah..."
"You don't believe me."
He felt a sting in his palms as his nails dug into his skin as he balled his fists tighter. His right shoulder twitched.
"I do, Seth," he replied, forcing himself to calm down. There was no good reason to snap now. This was nothing they couldn't talk out. "If I didn't, I wouldn't leave it with a good advice."
"What's this supposed to be? A threat?" Was it a threat? In a way... yeah. If it was written on his Dean's face or if Seth took the lack of reaction as a confirmation, a blink later the expression on Seth's face darkened. "I can't believe it, you're actually really threatening me here? Okay, that's it! You're giving me a good advice, huh? Now I'm giving you a good advice, Ambrose. Roman is my best friend and my brother and I'll protect him at all costs. Don't toy with him and if you don't feel the same way for him than he does for you, then stop it before he gets hurt any more than he already will be now if you can't love him back!"
Silence for a moment. That one little word pierced deep and right into Dean's very core. It struck chords and pulled hard at strings and echoed throughout him.
"Love..." he breathed.
"Yeah, Dean. Love," Seth huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Roman loves you. You know it, don't you? You can't be that blind not to see it."
I want you. I need you. Closing his eyes, Dean took those two sentences and turned them back and forth on his tongue. Did that really imply that Roman loved him? Not, I harbor more than a crush on you but I'm still on my way towards more but love as in he really loved him?
"He hasn't told me..." he murmured more to himself than to Seth actually but Seth caught it anyway.
"No, he hasn't because he doesn't want to put pressure on you. But he fucking loves you with all his heart and there's nothing he wouldn't do for you, man, and you have never, not once really given him something to hold on to and believe that there'll ever be more from your side."
"That's not true..." Dean gritted out.
"What, do you mean that so called kiss?" At that Dean's eyes snapped open again. "Yeah, he told me about it. How about you tell him what you feel? Huh? Instead of giving vague hints and a kiss that can't even be called a kiss!"
"It's... fuck, it's not easy for me, okay?! I've never been in love with someone and I... I'm fucking trying, Rollins! I'm fucking trying to give him something back because I lo..." The last word died in his throat. Love. The word had been... love. Even if he maybe had known it before in a way... that he had feelings for Roman... because it couldn't have been more obvious that there was something. But just like that... he was sure. He stared at Seth in silence as the epiphany that had been waving at him all the time already sunk in. He loved Roman... but was he ready for it...? The expression that lying in Seth's features changed to a soft and sympathetically one... with a note of defeat and sadness. "I can't lose Roman," Dean added, hating how unsteady his voice sounded to his own ears.
"Oh Dean..." Seth breathed, rubbing his hands down his face. "Don't wait too long to tell him, okay? I know it's hard for you, this all, but the waiting and not really knowing what you feel hurts Roman and God knows he would wait forever for you. See, he's already happy about the tiniest things you give him. It would be a start to keep that up and maybe, you know... show some affection more often and more clearly."
"That's none of your business, Rollins."
It left his mouth in a harsh tone and was out before he could stop it. He hadn't wanted that.
"Oh fuck, yes, it is my business!" And just like that the pretty face in front of his darkened again, the shadow that was casting over the brown eyes making them seem even darker. "Ever since you stepped into his life it's Dean here, Dean there but instead of seeing him happy, all I get to see is him being sad and he spends every fucking possible minute with yo...!"
"Huh, the little two-toned shit is jealous..."
Fuck, he needed to stop. Seth had taken that invisible step back and away from Roman just a moment ago and still he couldn't stop himself from verbally pushing Seth back even more because he hit dead on target here.
"Fuck you, Ambrose!" Seth bellowed, moving in on Dean who was caught by surprise by his friend's outburst, involuntary backing away from him. "Yeah! Fuck, yes, I feel something for him, okay?! Listen up and listen good because I'm gonna say this only one time: I'm not gonna let you take my best friend away from me and you better not hurt him because if you do, I'll take him away from you! Do you understand me, Dean?!" A long moment of harsh breathing followed before Seth turned around and walked a few steps away from him. "Fuck!" Dean heard him hiss. "Fuck!"
And this very second he could hear how own words he'd said to Roman last night.
I don't fucking know how to canalize my friggin' emotions.
Here he had just proved his own words right.
Apologize.
He should, really. But what should he say? That he was sorry? It would be a start but just as he wanted to actually speak it out aloud, Seth spun around, the expression on his pretty face still dark.
"You're a goddamn asshole, Ambrose!" Seth forced out, pointing a finger at him.
"Yes, I am," Dean chuckled not much amused but all too aware. "And I'm sorry. Well... partly at least."
At that Seth met him with disbelief.
Then, snorted: "Oh, he's partly sorry! What the fuck, dude?!"
"Look, I'm sorry for, you know, snapping at you," Dean muttered, unclenching his fists. The joints of his fingers stung as he moved them. "But I meant it, Seth. Roman is mine. You can't have him."
"I... shit, I didn't want that," Seth sighed, running a hand through his somehow always slightly messy hair. "I don't even know how it could happen. I mean, I'm not into guys... well, usually I'm not. And believe me when I tell you that I don't want this crush I have on him, okay? I wouldn't stand a chance against you anyway."
It wasn't fair... that Seth suddenly looked like a sad little puppy. The dark expression was replaced by defeat and that sadness was back and he seemed somehow small as he stood there, the hand he'd run through his hair now resting in the back of his neck, fingers curled around a handful of bicolored locks. With another sigh he dipped his head back a little, his eyes staring fixed on an invisible point in the blue sky. Fucking unfair because now Dean felt bad for him. Reluctantly he walked over to him. The hand that had been buried in the messy locks dropped to Seth's side as he looked over at Dean, the nicely shaped brows furrowing in mild confusion as Dean pulled him into a loose hug because it was what friends did, right? Be there for each other even if the air between them wasn't all fresh and clear sometimes.
"Is it bad?" Dean asked hushed.
"It hurts enough," was the quiet reply. "So we agree that you'll kick my ass if I touch him again and I'll kick yours if you hurt him?"
Nodding lightly, Dean laughed softly: "Sounds fair. And now we need to go. Roman's training should be over by now."
He pulled back then, beckoning Seth to follow.
"You know that you can be annoying sometimes, don't you, Ambrose?" Seth grumbled as he fell into step beside him.
"Well, you gotta live with it, you little shit," he smirked.
They rounded a corner and his eyes caught... Roman... who was held up by two guys and... there was a third guy standing in front of him. And another two guys were lying on the ground, one of them holding his middle while the other had his face covered with his hands. The image glued him to the spot and only faintly he noticed Seth coming to stand beside him.
"Ro...?" Dean said in a voice that sounded strangely empty to his own ears.
For a confused and long second he didn't understand... until it sunk in and hit him like a blow.
Those were the guys Roman had saved him from a few weeks ago. And there... Blood. There was blood on Roman's face. The guy in front of Roman reached out, grabbing a handful of the long hair to yank Roman's head back up as his dipped his head forward. Roman's eyes were barely open. The blood on his face was trickling from his eyebrow, his nose... his mouth. Rich and awfully red. And then his legs gave way as a punch was landed in his face and only the two men at his side, holding him up kept him from falling to the ground.
Dean heard a groan, low and pained.
Ro...!
The ember of confusion blazed up, becoming a bright red in fear and rage. Something in his snapped. Maybe even loud enough for the world around him to hear it.
Seth calling Roman's name was piercing through the fog of rage that engulfed his mind.
He wanted to call for Roman, too, wanted him to know that he was here now, that he wasn't alone anymore but all that left his throat was an angry growl as his mind shut down. He ran. The distance was only a few meters yet it seemed endlessly long to him. His sore kidney and the bruises which covered his abused body, his shoulder... he noticed the pain that flared up with every single step he took but he fucking didn't care because he had to get to Roman. Had to get those bastards away from him.
The thud as the guy's knee connected with Roman's side was oddly dull and the breathless, pained cry that ripped from Roman's throat and his face that contorted in pain both chased a chill down Dean's spine and heated the rage that was burning bright in him. Just as the guy raised his fist again to deliver another punch he seemed to notice for the first time that they weren't alone anymore, gazing over and right at Dean... who used the chance.
Using the momentum of running he jumped, a twisted growl dropping from his lips as his body collided with the other man's on chest-height, knocking him off his feet and pinning him to the ground as he came to sit on the guys upper body. His first blow was blocked. His second one though... hit. The wet, dull sound as his fist connected with the guys face was followed by the sickening, crunching little noise of a breaking nose. With another growl he parried the hands which tried to get a hold on him, freeing his way to deliver blow after blow until the resistance subsided. The pained groans that reached his ears pumped satisfaction through is veins, just as the crimson blood that was running from the other man's broken nose and from his mouth.
He didn't stop. Fist after fist found to the battered face... until arms closed around his upper body from behind, dragging him away while his name was being called over and over again. Seth. This was Seth's voice, telling him to stop. The moment Dean was lifted away from his chest the guy immediately curled up to a ball. Images flashed through Dean's mind, memories of how he'd been lying on the ground himself, surrounded by those bastards who just wouldn't stop beating him up... and of Roman, being held up by two guys, his face bloody... and this pained cry... Dean's own cry of rage mingled with the drawn-out moan of the man who way lying on the ground as he freed himself from Seth's arms and kicked the bastard hard into the side before whirling around, coming face to face with Seth.
"The fuck, Dean, you almost beat him to death," Seth breathed, staring at him wide-eyed and shocked.
That this motherfucker didn't deserve any better was lying on his tongue but the words never left his mouth, got stuck in his throat as his eyes found Roman who was kneeling on the ground, bracing on one arm while the other was wrapped around his middle. With a muttered fuck he pushed past Seth, passing the short distance in big strides. Rich drops of blood were falling to the ground from behind the veil of black hair. Roman's breathing was unsteady and strained. Kneeling down in front of him, Dean brought a hand to the long hair to lift it out of the way, wincing at the amount of blood he found on his friend's face. Roman's eyes were screwed shut and for a second Dean had to close his eyes, too, as he willed the rage down that boiled up hot again. Roman needed him here now.
Shrugging the track jacket off, he whispered: "Ro? Ro, c'mon, look at me."
The groan Roman breathed made Dean's stomach churn but at least Roman did look at him. That he was hurting like hell was clearly written in his eyes but there was rage, too, matching the one Dean felt simmer in his guts and oddly enough to see this calmed Dean down a little. Maybe because it meant that as long as Roman could be so angry, that he wasn't hurt all too bad.
"Where are they?" Roman asked breathlessly, screwing his eyes shut again.
Taking a look around, Dean found the place empty except for chief goon who was just limping away and Seth who was standing guard. Another wave of satisfaction rushed through Dean as he found a big bloody spot where chief goon had been lying a moment ago.
"Fuckers are gone," he murmured, lifting the jacket to Roman's face, carefully wiping the blood away. "Chief goon will need new teeth I guess." A weak snort passed Roman's lips as he sat back on his heels, wincing. Inching closer, Dean went back to cleaning his friend's face without much success. There was still trickling blood from the various cuts. "Maybe it's better if we call your mom," Dean suggested, but Roman only shook his head no.
"Give me a few minutes and I'll be good to drive."
"Are you nuts?" Seth appeared at their side, hunching down. "You can't drive like this, Rome."
"I can," Roman insisted, taking the jacket from Dean's hand to press it to his nose gingerly. "The fuck I'll call my mom now, I don't need her to take me to a hospital."
"Well, but maybe that's exactly where you should go now?" Seth frowned, shooting him a raised brow.
"He's right, Ro," Dean agreed, not feeling good with the thought that Roman would drive home like this.
"No!" Roman's voice didn't leave room for discussion. "I'm okay. Nothing serious, really. I just need a minute or two," he added much softer.
The fuck Roman was okay and Seth was thinking the exact same thing, Dean could see it written all over the other man's face as he glanced at him but he also knew that there was no chance in talking Roman into calling his mother or seeing a doctor.
With a sigh Seth sat down while Dean tucked a strand of hair behind Roman's ear, thinking that it was time that this shit would find an end...
About twenty minutes later Roman and Dean were sitting in the car. Their way home was quiet but the whole ride he kept his eyes fixed on Roman. The silence between them wasn't really a bad one but rather exhausted from Roman's side and worried from Dean's. Clearly it hurt Roman to lift his right arm what made driving not quite easy but there was no word of complaint from his friend. Only a bit back grunt once or twice and every now and then Roman pressed the track jacket to his nose or the cuts which still leaked blood. Dean didn't react to it though because he knew that the car wasn't the right place to talk about it and what should he have done anyway? He had no driver's license and Roman had made it clear that he didn't want to call his mother and so he only looked at Roman, feeling the spark of lingering rage smolder in his guts.
Not much later they arrived at the house. Roman was walking only slowly and with a slight limp as they made their way inside, holding his right arm close to his body. Dean would have wished that mommy Reigns had been here to tell her son to move his ass to the next doctor but she wasn't.
"Think I should grab a shower," Roman said, his voice still somewhat breathless and weak as he made his way up the stairs with Dean following close behind.
"Okay, I'll get us a few fresh clothes," Dean murmured, gazing after Roman for a moment as their ways parted.
Sighing, he wrenched his eyes away and quickly went to both their rooms to get some clothes before he headed for the bathroom, too, walking in just as Roman wanted to get rid of his shirt, stopping his attempt though with a sharp hiss and laying a hand on his bruised ribs instead while screwing his eyes shut. It hurt... to see Roman like this. Superman wasn't supposed to get hurt yet here he stood, aching and exhausted.
Stepping up to his friend, Dean brought a hand up to Roman's face, cupping his cheek. The reaction was immediate. Instead of opening his eyes again, Roman wrapped an arm around Dean's waist and rested his head on his shoulder. A heavy breath was exhaled, partly weary, partly pained. And again Dean cursed himself for not beating those fuckers to a pulp. They'd hurt Roman. A few broken bones were not enough. Fucking shit...
His own hands found a home one the back of Roman's head and on his hip, gently steering him backwards to the tub.
"Sit down," he murmured and Roman obeyed, sitting down on the rim of the tub. The reluctance with which he let go of Dean though was more than noticeable. Grabbing the hem of his friend's shirt and pulling it up, Dean said: "Pull your good arm out first."
And Roman did how he'd been told. Dean tugged the shirt over Roman's head then and slipped it down the other arm, revealing a darkening shadow on his friend's ribs and in the area of his stomach and once more it hurt and he had to swallow hard because it gave him a faint idea of how Roman must've felt all the time seeing him all bruised and battered.
Tossing the bloodied shirt to the floor, Dean knelt down to make himself busy on Roman's shoes, biting back a wince as his own body complained. He was still hurting from the beating and the incident today had only added to it but he could deal with physical pain. Fuck, he was used to it but seeing Roman hurt caused an ache in him he couldn't handle. Being there now, helping him out of his clothes, it was what he could do now, so fuck his own pain.
"Dean..." Roman murmured, one of his hands finding Dean's shoulder, squeezing it lightly. "You don't need to do this."
Stopping briefly in his task, Dean glanced up to him and smiled, feeling his lips quiver. He meant that smile. Only that he was too shaken up to keep it shining on his lips.
"But I want to," he replied and he didn't need to wonder if Roman had heard that his way was quivering, too, just like his lips. There was a subtle change in his friend's expression and Roman was already opening his mouth to say something as Dean went back to untying the shoes and quickly cut him off: "I'll stay in here with you until you're done showering, okay? Just in case."
Whatever Roman had wanted to say, it was replaced by a simple: "Yeah, okay."
A few quiet minutes later Roman was standing under the running shower with his back towards Dean who was sitting on the rim of the tub, carefully watching him. Roman had one arm wrapped around his middle. The fingers of his other hand clenched and unclenched slowly and his head was dipped forward. The last time he'd watched Roman shower, he had ended up giving a solo performance in jerking off to the image of his best friend right there in this shower but this time... goddamn, Roman was hot. Too damn hot for his own good or for Dean's sake but although the view he had right now was perfect, it was that even from where he sat here on the tub, that could see that the water which was running down the massive legs, pooling around his friend's feet, was slightly pink and knowing that it was Roman's blood which dyed the water just washed all sexiness away.
Dean was still looking at the water that whirled in the shower tub as Roman moved eventually, reaching out for the shampoo and pouring some of it on his hand, before he lifted his arms to wash his hair... bending forward and slightly to the right side with a groan, immediately wrapping an arm around his middle again.
Dean's eyes flicked up and he winced at the picture. Stubborn mule, should have let a doc have a look on it. Not wasting a thought about if it was a good idea to do it, he got rid of his clothes and walked over to the shower, opening its door. Roman turned his head a little as he turned the water off and joined him, not even flinching as Dean brought a hand to his face to brush a thick, wet strand of hair away. Now that the blood was washed off, the damage was on full display. The cut in the eyebrow should be okay with butterfly stitches and Roman's poor nose that had been sore already from the blow he'd taken from Dean really needed an ice-pack. The split open lips though were visibly swollen. Dean counted three cuts in them. A few bruises already showed up on the tan skin. The one that worried him most though was the one on the ribs. It was pretty big and more visible than the other bruises.
"You really should go to a doc, Ro. What if your ribs are broken?"
His hand brushed down the broad chest as Roman straightened up again, finding a new home on his friend's battered ribs, his fingers splaying over the darkening shadow there as if he could simply will it away. Roman was standing still slightly hunched as he moved his arm he'd held to his middle, blanketing Dean's on his side.
"My ribs are okay," he reassured Dean or tried to, because Dean wasn't much convinced. "I've had broken ribs in my life already and this doesn't feel like broken bones. It's just a contusion. Hurts like bitch but that's it. Stop worrying, okay?"
No, it was not okay. It was fucking far from being okay because Roman had been hurt because he'd helped Dean back then.
"This is my fault. They did that because you helped me..."
The weariness in the grey eyes was replaced by warm affection as Roman lifted the hand of his good side up to the back of Dean's neck, gently pulling him a bit closer.
"This is not your fault, you hear me? And I'm not made out of glass. It's only a few bruises and cuts. I'll be as good as new in a few days."
But Dean still wasn't convinced. Just a minute for two ago Roman had been standing there hunched forward in pain because he'd tried to wash his hair. His gaze dropped to the ruined lips. He could kiss them better. Wanted to... so damn much. Just as much as he wanted to make Roman feel better.
"Let me at least help you," he breathed, his plea almost drowning in the sound of the falling water.
"You shouldn't trouble your kidney and your shoulder and..."
With a curt shake of his head he made his friend fall silent.
"Just let me do this, Ro. Please."
Taking the tiny smile Roman gave him as an okay, he drew back and poured some shampoo on his hand. A funny tingling spread in his belly as he brought his hands to the black hair, thoroughly spreading the shampoo before he started to gently wash his friend's hair, combing his fingers through it, massaging his scalp... watching how the grey eyes slipped close and the strained features relaxed. A low, needy moan escaped Roman's throat as Dean kept his tender task up, the breathy sound trickling right into Dean's heart and down to mingle with the tingling in his belly... flowing further down and right between his legs. It didn't help a bit as Roman's lips parted slightly, innocently inviting him to lean in and steal a kiss.
Oh. Fuck.
This wasn't the right moment, not yet. Taking a deep breath, he tried to think about something off-putting as he turned the water back on and began to rinse the shampoo out of the long hair with gentle fingers, guiltily savoring the feeling of silky strands gliding through his fingers and much too soon he was done. He didn't move away though, only brought his hands down to Roman's shoulders. The grey eyes met his gaze again then, exhaustion still clearly visible in them but it wasn't alone anymore. A sparkle was lying in them, too, getting brighter as he smoothed his hands over to the broad chest tentatively. Neither did Roman move away from him... nor closer. All he did was standing there unmoving and... wasn't he breathing a little faster than just a moment before? Yeah, he was... but Dean was, too. Roman was waiting... for him to... to make a step... And suddenly Dean felt his own heart pick up its pace, could have sworn that the faint beating against his palms was getting quicker, too.
The sound of the falling water drops was somehow loud in the quietness which spread as he switched the shower off again as he reached for the shower gel, willing his hands not to fucking tremble as he poured some on his hand. His own eyes were fixed on what he was doing but he could feel the gaze of those grey eyes rest on him, intense in the silent waiting. A lightheaded feeling settled over him as he brought his hands back to the tempting body, hands smoothing over it slowly... fingers mapping, caressing... travelling over the sculpted chest and to the shoulders, down the broad arms and back up... tracing collarbones before wandering further down to those nice abs. He felt more than he heard his friend's breath hitch and he watched as Roman closed his eyes once more, his features relaxing and his own breath got stuck in his throat as hands settled on his waist in a loose hold. Again the lush lips parted, releasing a shuddering puff of air as Dean smoothed one hand to the small of Roman's back while slipping his other back into the silky blackness. The sound of dripping water drowned in the buzzing in his ears as his heart began pound hard his chest.
Faintly he felt breath fan over his face, fast and shallow... felt the hold on his waist become firmer... possessive...
"Ro…" he whispered as he closed his eyes, his whole being narrowing on his friend as he leaned in... and kissed him...
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