"I came to the city tired. Poor. Hungry. Lonely."

Sitting on the couch in his apartment, Dean pressed the ice pack Seth had fashioned—a Ziploc baggy packed with ice cubes bundled in a torn washcloth—to his face. Roman sat on the floor before him, having pushed the coffee table off to the side, listening to him talk. Seth sat next to Dean, his shoulder swollen with a darkening bruise under the sleeve of his Pierce the Veil t-shirt.

Dean removed the ice pack and compressed it against the other side of his face. His nose had stopped bleeding long ago, but he was still fighting the swelling. "I wanted a change. Get away from Cali for a while. But that's a different story."

Roman rested his arms over his knees. Dean let out a long breath.

"All I had was me and my guitar. Downtown was where I ended up after a…" He squinted his eyes, performing a mental calculation. "Fifteen, sixteen hour bus ride. I saw a lot of people just bumming around, some of 'em begging for money, others just trying to make the most of that moment. I saw one guy playing on the street corner, and I thought, 'That's not a bad way to spend an evening.' So I played. I found it was a decent way to make some money. I met a few other guys, homeless musicians. Sometimes we played together, but most times I was on my own. Cops got me twice for 'disturbing the peace.'" Dean shook his head, tossing the ice pack onto the table. "Figured I wasn't making enough money to keep getting tickets. Eventually I just started asking around. That's when I met Luke Harper."

The disconcerting image of Luke beating the hell out of Dean refused to switch off in Roman's mind. He focused in on the very real image of Dean safe and sound, sitting before him, introducing him to this private side.

"I asked him if he could spare some change. He asked me what I was doing there, like that hadn't been my corner for the past four or five weeks. I told him I just wanted something to eat. He asked me my name. I lied. Said it was Jon Moxley. He wanted me to go with him. So I did. He couldn't rob me. I didn't have anything. If he took Annie, I would have been upset, but I don't think guitars get stolen too often over cash.

"He took me over to 15C, over off of Bijou? That's when I met the others. Erick Rowan, that little shit Bo Dallas, and Bray Wyatt." Dean's voice had dropped to an unstable growl on the last name. "Bray led the others. I thought Luke was something of a crew chief, but he shut his mouth once he introduced Bray to me. I'll never forget that night. Bray put an arm around me and said in my ear, 'We're going to take care of you.'"

Roman wondered why in the world Dean would ever fall for something like that. But he couldn't say if he was hungry, lonely in a big new city, cold and getting harassed by cops, he wouldn't consider alternate measures for protection and financial security.

"And so, I did." Dean leaned back on the couch, hands folded in his lap. "Rolled with them for half a year. All I was was a little foot soldier, running errands for them. Delivering bags to people and giving back money. They never told me what was in the bag, and to never take out of the bag was was in the bag, but I knew. I wasn't an idiot. Bray was sending me out as his runner to sell the drugs and handle the money so he wouldn't have to get his hands dirty, risk showing his face to anyone and getting busted. He was using me. And I wasn't getting shit for it. He was all, 'Oh, we'll protect you, we're all you need, you're our family', but who the hell was I kidding? I had no enemies. I didn't need them. I wasn't making shit from them, either, so I got greedy. I started giving myself a cut of the money for every run. Bray would sell an eight-ball for one-eighty, and I'd take twenty. I wanted to start small so he wouldn't get suspicious. Started up my own private savings account. Still earned my own money playing guitar on the streets, but when Bray found out about it, he made me share. 'We're family. We split everything.' Communist fucks."

Dean rubbed his neck. The narration had apparently dried his throat out. Seth was on it, disappearing into the kitchen and returning with a bottle of water. Dean took a swig, then coughed before continuing. "Then I got caught. The thing is, I didn't get in trouble for it. I gave Bray his money, my portion already cut off, and he flared up. He thought he'd been cheated by the guy I'd sold the kabayo to. He rounded up Luke and them, and tracked the guy down and fucking shot him in the street. Just like that. No questions asked. And I witnessed it, without really realizing until afterwards what had happened."

Dean stopped talking for a long time, staring down at nothing in particular. He took a long, long drink of his water, nearly finishing it off in a single gulp. "I realized then—only then, 'cause I'm kind of a fuckhead—what kinda danger I was in. If Bray'd known it was me who'd gypped him of his money, it would have been me next. I let a guy die, I didn't say a fucking thing, because I was too afraid of getting iced instead.

"I wanted out. I wanted as far away from these fuckers as I possibly could. But I couldn't quit. You don't just quit a gang. They'll find you and blow you to hell like they did that guy, no questions asked." Dean squeezed the air out of the water bottle and twisted it in his hands, the plastic crinkling loudly. "So I slowly started to back off. Made myself lesser known. I put an ad up on craigslist looking for a roommate." Dean patted Seth's knee. "This guy answered the call. Didn't realize what kind of an asshole I was, and let me in. I was banking at that point, because of how much I'd stolen from under Bray's nose. I moved in, far away from their known whereabouts. I didn't want to start all over again, leave the city and go somewhere completely new just yet, after falling in love with Colorado and growing accustomed to everything good left in the city." His eyes lifted to meet Roman's. Roman smiled on the inside. "Bray kept calling me up, looking for favors. Finally threw my phone away and got a new one. But of course he caught up with me eventually. I told him I was onto bigger and better things. But I was too afraid to tell him I wasn't gonna be part of his shitty-ass family anymore. Never made it official, never signed a document or nothing. But he knew. He'd caught on. He ran into me and Seth at Zodiac one night, and we got into it. Seth stood up for me without knowing the story, kinda like you did, Ro. He had someone call the police and stayed with me there until they arrived. Funny thing is, the officer who arrived at the scene first was the same officer who'd cited me for 'disturbing the peace' with my music. She was familiar with me, and with Bray Wyatt. So she told us to leave before we were arrested. No tickets, no handcuffs, nothing. I got off for not doing anything, and Bray got off for being a dipshit. But I realized later that night that he'd taken my wallet."

Dean rubbed his nose. "My driver's license didn't have my address here on it, obviously, since it was from California. But he had my real name. He managed to figure out who I really was, and got away with about a hundred or so dollars of money that technically was 'his.' Obviously I don't carry all of it around with me at once. It's all stashed away in various places. But that night, he told me he didn't want to kill me yet. He wanted me back, or to pay. One way or another. The psycho nut who shot a man down in the streets when he suspected he'd been cheated in a drug deal, and he was telling me, 'oh no, I ain't gonna kill you.' Yeah. Right."

Roman thought there was more to the story, but Dean didn't say anything again for a long while. Roman thought he was finally allowed to speak.

"Damn. That's…"

"Yeah. I know."

"And Seth, he eventually told you everything?"

"He kinda had to," Seth said. "I was mad at first, not gonna lie. He gave me the Jon Moxley identity, too, but came clean with his real name after that night with Bray. He told me it was his only source of protection, and now it was gone and he had nowhere else to go, nobody to turn to. I felt bad for him. I know he wasn't lying to me because he's a dick. He lied to me to keep me out of his own crap. But being around Dean for so long, you're bound to get into it on your own at some point."

"Which is why I wanted to tell you to stay away, back off," Dean said to Roman. "I didn't want you drag you down the way I'd dragged Seth down. I owe Seth everything. He still let me stay with him. He helped me get back on my feet. He had every right to kick me out, call the police, hit me, yell at me, whatever he wanted. And instead he chose to forgive me and refused to give up on me as a person."

"And he's cleaned up his act," Seth said. "I mean, he never smoked anything that he was selling. He never broke the law except for playing music, and carrying out those deals. He wasn't a bad guy. He still isn't. And he never will be." He turned his neck like an owl to look at Dean. "You're my best friend. We've been through hell and back together."

"Ain't that the fucking truth," Dean said, chuckling. His laugh gave Roman a bit of solace. Things were finally beginning to settle down. Roman's mind was fried with the information Dean had just given him, but he could handle it. He didn't want Dean to think Roman now thought any different of him. Because he didn't. He'd gotten into some trouble with a gang. He wasn't a criminal. Perhaps he'd made some mistakes, but who hadn't? Roman wasn't one to judge him.

"So that's me," Dean said. "It isn't too late to walk away, Roman. You deserve a little better than anything I can offer you."

Roman pulled himself up and took the space on the couch next to Dean. He opened his arms and let Dean lean against him. Dean relaxed in his hold. Roman rubbed his firm arm with a rugged hand.

"It is too late," Roman said softly. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Even without looking down at the face of his musician, Roman could feel him smiling. "You're so good, Ro. You're so good."

"What time do you need to be home, Roman?" Seth queried. "You have class or work or anything tomorrow?"

"Yeah, both," Roman said, wishing he could call in sick to both affairs. He knew he'd hate himself if he missed a day of classes, though, no matter how badly he wanted to stay here for a week.

"I don't want you to leave yet," Dean said.

"I won't," Roman promised. It was all he needed to hear. "I'm here as long as you like."

"If you want to stay over," Seth began to suggest, "I can drop you off at your place on my way to work tomorrow. Assuming you don't have to be at school before the ass-crack of dawn, 'cause that's when I go in."

That didn't sound like a bad idea at all. "I'd like that. Thanks, Seth."

"Yeah, no problem. I think Dean really needs us right now. Needs you." He stood up. "I'm gonna head to bed though. Gotta be up early and whatnot."

Roman felt a little bad. He hoped with all his being that Seth didn't feel challenged, pushed away, by Roman's presence. Seth had gone through a lot for Dean, and Roman didn't want to get in the way of anything that might have existed between them prior to Roman's arrival in both their lives.

"You sure you don't wanna hang out?" Roman tried.

"Thanks, but I really do need my sleep. I'm a pretty useless worker when I'm wiped out."

"You're a useless worker no matter what," Dean teased.

"Hey, fuck you." Seth wiggled a finger against Dean's sock, and he giggled like a child, jerking his foot away from the tickling. "Night, guys."

"Night, Seth," Dean said.

"Good night," Roman said. "And thanks again."

Seth smiled, then disappeared into the bathroom, and then his bedroom with the door closed behind him.

Roman didn't want the Wyatt family or Dean's drama with them to linger as a single thought in the living room any longer. "Hey, guess what?"

"Hmm?"

"I wrote a song."

This stimulated Dean, uncorked his natural energy. "Really? That's awesome."

"Thing is, I don't have any music for it. Just lyrics."

"I'm your man, Superman. Show it to me sometime. I'd love to hear it."

"You got it." Roman wasn't even worried about how it sounded. He had a feeling Dean would love it no matter how much he critiqued his own piece.

Dean sat up. "Be right back. I'm gonna go get my guitar. I'm in the mood."

Roman couldn't believe it. He'd dreamed forever of Dean playing for him, just for him, without having to share his idolization with anyone else.

"Will Seth mind?" Roman asked upon his return.

"Nah. I'm usually quiet. He's used to it. He told me he likes it."

Roman didn't blame Seth. Going to sleep to Dean's voice, his playing, sounded divine.

Dean freed Annie from the battered case. After everything he'd been through, the case as evidence, it was a wonder the guitar was still in such pristine condition. Dean must have taken very good care of her.

"Any requests?" Dean asked, tuning the guitar with the pick in his mouth.

"'More Than Words.'"

"You like that one?" A smile touched Dean's soft lips.

"I love it. I mean, I like anything you play, but if you're taking requests…"

"You got it." Dean used Roman's words. He strummed away gently, his voice transmitting dulcet and eloquent from his lips to Roman's ears. He leaned back, a stupid smiling spreading far past his face, leaning on his arm, watching his love play for him—

Love?

The word invoked confusion. Did Roman really just think of "the l word" with Dean in mind?

He'd never been in love before. He was scared of it ever happening to him, not knowing what to expect, especially considering whoever was on the receiving end of his feelings…

But listening to Dean, watching him, hearing him, feeling him, the taste of Dean's lips lingering in his mouth like a sweet drink…Roman couldn't deny it. Not at all. Logic might have wanted to throw a fit inside him—it's too fast, he's trouble, you don't know how he feels, this is stupid and risky and a waste of time—he locked the arguments away in a box, tucked them away in a dark corner in his mind. Love had nothing to do with logic.

He loved Dean.

He was falling for Dean Ambrose, and fast.

And he pretended as Dean sang the words "I love you" repeatedly through the song, that perhaps he meant it as more than a melody. Dean could have loved Roman, too.

Roman had listened to this song so many times that he was tempted to sing the last lines along with Dean.

"What would you do if my heart was torn in two

More than words to show you feel

That your love for me is real

What would you say if I took those words away

Then you couldn't make things new

Just by saying I love you."

Dean closed the song with a fading outro. He looked to Roman and grinned, encouraged by Roman's beam.

"You're amazing."

"Far from it."

"Bullshit."

"Anything else?"

"Play me your favorite song to play. Of all time."

"Oh, geez." Dean laughed, strumming random chords as he considered the seemingly impossible decision. "Well, I have so many favorites, but here's one I learned recently that I really love."

Roman recognized it at once.

"When your legs don't work like they used to before

And I can't sweep you off of your feet

Will your mouth still remember the taste of my love?

Will your eyes still smile from your cheeks?

And, darling, I will be loving you 'til we're 70

And, baby, my heart could still fall as hard at 23

And I'm thinking 'bout how people fall in love in mysterious ways

Maybe just the touch of a hand

Well, me - I fall in love with you every single day

And I just wanna tell you I am

So honey now

Take me into your loving arms

Kiss me under the light of a thousand stars

Place your head on my beating heart

I'm thinking out loud

Maybe we found love right where we are."

Roman wasn't an Ed Sheeran fan, but God how he could literally feel himself falling in love with Dean, listening to him trill those lyrics in irresistible harmony.

When the song was finished, Dean's mouth stretched into a yawn. "Sorry about that," he said.

"Don't be," Roman said. "You're tired."

"Yeah. Might pass out here in a few. Where are you sleeping?"

"Out here." Roman wanted badly, more than anything he'd ever wanted in the world, to sleep in Dean's bed with him. But he wasn't going to be the direct, pushy creeper who made the suggestion. He only wanted it if Dean wanted it. But the point of staying here was staying with Dean, right?

"Ah. Okay." Dean stood up, holding Annie tight. "Mind if I…join you?"

"Absolutely, I mind. Go to your room, young man."

"Eat me."

Roman chuckled.

"Want some pajamas or something? Can't be comfortable sleeping in your clothes like that."

"I don't know if anything of yours'll fit me," Roman laughed. "I usually just sleep in my boxers, anyway." Would he think that was weird?

"Me too."

Guess not.

Roman waited for Dean to change out of his outfit and brush his teeth. He stripped of his outfit and folded the clothes, leaving them beside the couch, then texted Randy to let him know he wouldn't be home tonight. He tried not to stare too longingly as Dean reentered the living room with a down comforter and two big pillows, wearing nothing but black boxer shorts. He wasn't the most ripped man Roman had ever seen, or the most muscular, but Roman loved the sight of him. The burly arms he was already familiar with, the cut chest, an impressive set of abs. Roman wondered what Dean thought of him, wearing nothing more than what Dean had on.

Dean clicked his tongue. "I tell ya, I thought you looked pretty damn good tonight, Superman, but who knew you were just naturally beautiful all over?"

Roman blushed. He couldn't hide it. "Thanks."

Dean tossed the comforter over Roman's body and handed him a pillow. After flicking the light off, Dean took the outside of the couch while Roman pressed his back against the frame. Clearly this furniture hadn't been designed to comfortably fit two adult men lying down. All that meant, though, was more Dean, all Dean, up against him.

Dean obviously adored the role of little spoon. Roman slipped his arms around Dean's warm physique and held him close.

"Dean."

"Hmm?"

"I'm never going to let anything happen to you."

"Nothing will."

"I promise." He planted a tender kiss on Dean's shoulder, near the collarbone. Dean let out a soft giggle. Roman watched as goosebumps erected on his bare arm.

"A bit sensitive?" Roman teased.

"Maybe a bit."

Roman laughed and kissed him again. "Sleep well, Dean."

"You too."

Roman knew he would.

He wanted to punch whoever was waking him up.

It was Seth, he realized as he blinked exhaustion out of his eyes. Seth was dressed for work in a black button-up shirt and slacks to match. "Hey, morning," Seth whispered.

"Morning," Roman repeated, softly. Dean was still in his arms, unmoving except for gentle breaths. Roman's arm was aching and asleep. He could feel the prickling sensation already. It was worth it.

"He's a pretty heavy sleeper, so you don't need to be too too careful."

"Gotcha."

Roman still moved as carefully as he could so not to disturb Dean. Dean seemed to frown in his sleep as Roman pulled away. Seth left him to his privacy, and he quickly changed into his clothes. Roman smiled as he watched Dean sleep. He lightly stroked Dean's hair.

He was so perfect to Roman. Flaws and all.

Roman was ready in minutes.

His phone was dead. He'd be home in a little while, so that wasn't a concern. He and Seth shuffled out of the apartment to Seth's car. The sun had yet to stir from its slumber in the atmosphere. It was damn fucking cold. Roman still hadn't claimed his coat back. His gray jacket would do. His breath came out in wispy clouds, even inside Seth's car.

"You sleep okay?" Seth asked. He turned the heat up and switched the radio station to 98.1, the city's classic rock station. Points for Seth.

"Oh, yeah, definitely."

Seth smiled. "I bet you did."

"Hey, listen, Seth, I'm not…getting in the way of anything, am I? I mean, you were clearly Dean's friend first, and I don't want you to think I'm trying to mess anything up."

Seth made a face. "Nah, dude, you're fine. People come and go out of his life like anyone else's. I'm not jealous."

"Good. I was worried you'd feel left out."

Seth chuckled. "I appreciate your concern, but no. It's hard to feel 'left out' around Dean. He has a way of making you feel like you really matter."

Roman agreed. "You remember the way?"

"Wouldn't mind a bit of guidance here and there."

Seth merged with the morning traffic. "Dean's a great guy," he went on. "Anyone who knows him is lucky for it. I wouldn't trade him for anything. Sometimes he gets on my nerves, sometimes he does something totally fucking stupid and I have to sit back and ask him, 'What the hell were you thinking?' But at the end of the day, he's family. And family comes first."

Roman wished he could feel that way about his own family, even if Seth and Dean weren't related by blood. They might as well have been. Their history was fierce and admirable.

"And you know," Seth added, "you seem like a pretty good guy too, Roman. Doubt you'd be the type to totally blow off your friends. So if we started hanging out, too, that might be cool."

"Oh, yeah, definitely." Another concept he'd have to get used to: friends. People wanting to hang out with him. Last night had been the first time in…Roman couldn't even remember the last time someone had invited him out. Even if someone had, recently, there was almost no way he would have agreed to it. Not to be a dick, but because of his schedule. "I mean, if Dean likes you, you've gotta be great, right?"

Seth laughed. "Yeah. I guess so. He's not easy to figure out, but once you're in…he's your guy. You're with him for life. You'd give anything for him, and he'd do the same for you. Doesn't matter who you are. He's got that effect on everyone he lets in."

"Is that why he doesn't let too many people in?"

"Exactly."

Roman could relate.

Seth dropped him off, and Roman thanked him for the ride. Seth handed over his number in case Roman needed anything else from him. Roman still had a couple of hours before his first class, but he wasn't getting back to sleep now that he was up and alert. He took a shower and listened to music, recollecting each event of the night from start to finish, from the moment Dolph called him with Dean Ambrose's number to getting ready for what felt like a date, to dancing with Dean and kissing him at the end of a scared lecture, to battling a new slimy character named Luke Harper, to falling in love with Dean over music, to waking up while holding Dean safe in his arms.

Life was strange. Strange and wonderful.