Dean was in a bad mood. First his flight was delayed. Then, once he actually arrived at the airport, he had to wait an ungodly amount of time in line for a rental car. And then, his drive had taken at least four times as long as it should have because of an accident blocking traffic. To top it all off, he had been bitched at by management once he finally made it to the arena for being late. Now, Dean knew that he didn't have the reputation for being the most professional guy ever, but he was almost never late, a fact Dean felt like they should have considered before they dressed him down in front of several of his fellow wrestlers. By the time the show was over, Dean just wanted to get out of there as fast as humanly possible.
He was stopped on his way out of the arena by Seth calling his name.
"Dean! Hey, Dean!" Seth called as he jogged to catch up. "It seems like you've had a pretty shitty day. You wanna go with me to a bar or something?"
Now this was simply too much. Silly kid games were one thing, but going out for drinks with Seth was something else altogether. Dean rounded on his former friend. "Look, Seth," he practically growled, "I can see where I might have given you the wrong idea, but we are not friends. Friends don't hit friends with steel chairs. Friends don't curb stomp friends' heads on cinder blocks. I used you as an amusement because I was bored. You were like a toy, but now I'm tired of you. I want you to leave me alone."
The friendly smile on Seth's face shifted for a fraction of a second into an angry grimace before being replaced by a look of stoic indifference. "Okay, fine," he said and turned and walked away.
Dean had meant what he said. He and Seth weren't friends, but by the next morning he was sort of regretting his harshness. It wasn't that he wanted to be friends with Seth again exactly, but, damn it, he had missed him. It had been nice pretending that everything was all okay.
When Seth did as Dean had requested and left him alone, Dean tried to assure himself that it was for the best. That whole nice act was probably just a scheme anyway. It's better that we just stay away from each other.
But a week later when Seth once again sat down across from him in catering and began folding a paper football, Dean didn't put up a fight. He simply explained to Seth that he was the paper football king and that he was going to kick his ass. And that was all it took for things to go back to their new normal.
xxx
The weeks passed, and Roman watched as Dean and Seth found evermore ways to amuse themselves backstage. If he was honest with himself, he felt a little left out. All three of them used to goof around like that together, but Dean and Roman had stopped after Seth's betrayal. In the beginning, right after Seth had turned on them, neither Dean nor Roman had been in any mood to play games. However, as the shock wore off and they began to adjust to their new reality, Dean had attempted to initiate a game or two. Each time, though, Roman had pushed him away, and he soon stopped trying. Roman didn't blame Dean for giving up on him. After all, that had never been his role. Seth had always been the one to push and prod and cajole Roman into letting loose, and without Seth, that part of their relationship had disappeared. Until now. Seth and Dean had rekindled that playfulness without him.
Roman was sitting in catering sullenly staring at his empty plate when a plastic ball, the cheap kind that they keep in big bins in grocery stores, suddenly whacked him in the head. Roman looked up to see both Dean and Seth waving at him.
As if reading his thoughts, Dean yelled, "Hey, Ro! We're gonna play dodgeball. You want in?"
"Nah, that's okay," Roman responded automatically as he threw the ball back. Damn it! he thought, mentally kicking himself for refusing. Why do I always default to saying no?
Because he's with Seth, and Seth can't be trusted, a little voice answered back.
But it would be fun, another voice taunted.
Great. Now I'm arguing with myself, Roman thought grimly.
"Whatsa matter, Roman?" Seth teased. "You afraid of a little competition? I mean, I know dodgeball was never really your sport…"
"Oh come on. I could beat you two goons with one arm tied behind my back," Roman answered, pushing his doubts aside.
"Them's fightin' words," Seth called back, throwing the ball to Roman again. "Bring it on, big man."
Roman smiled confidently and walked over to where Seth and Dean were standing, dropping off his tray on the way.
"We should probably go somewhere a little less populated," Seth suggested, looking around. "Some people get really touchy when you knock over their drinks."
Dean and Seth both laughed. Seth led them all to a large empty room far from catering.
"Do you, like, scout out all the arenas we work in?" Dean asked, looking around.
"Of course," Seth answered matter-of-factly.
"Are we going to stand around and talk or are we going to do this thing?" Roman demanded.
Dean and Seth both nodded and backed away from Roman to begin the game. And as Roman ran, dodged, ducked, and threw, he marveled at how fun this was, how right it felt. Both Dean and Seth wore exhilarated smiles on their sweaty faces, and Roman knew his face bore a matching grin. It was weird. He should want to strangle Seth, not spend time with him. He would really need to sit Seth down sometime soon for a long conversation. Maybe it was possible to clear the air. Or maybe they were all just deluding themselves. He would really have to figure out which one it was sooner rather than later.
Just not right now.