"Ha ha! Success! Eat it, haters. Suck it, all who didn't believe in me! I've come a long way to reach this point, and now…now I'm finally here—ouch. Damn, pan's still a little hot."

"You think?" Roman asked through a chuckle. He oscillated into the kitchen on his crutches. They were still a bit clunky under his arms, but he'd gotten used to moving with them by now. Dean placed the baking pan atop the burners. He'd made tonight's dinner—lobster mac and cheese, a recipe Seth had come across last night on Google—all by himself. For the most part. It wasn't easy to function, literally, single-handedly. Roman had helped him measure out ingredients earlier on, and Dean had finished off the rest. His off-white cast, which he'd received today, rested at his side while his "useless" left hand inspected the giant yellow and red glob.

"Talk about fancy over here," Dean said. "Seth home yet?"

"Do you see him here?" Roman teased.

"Ah, so we're still all alone?" Dean leaned into Roman, dabbing his lips over the sensitive skin of his neck. "Means we can see fireworks a few hours early?"

"Wow. That was remarkably corny."

"Ah, you love my corny lines."

"I do," Roman confessed. He shifted his head and seized Dean's lips in a stable kiss.

A key turned in a lock. The front door pushed open. Seth was home early because of the holiday, Roman figured.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean said. "I mean, uh, hey, Seth, welcome home!"

Seth simpered at him. "Evening."

"How'd work go?" Roman asked.

"Oh, you know. Tire rotation. Oil changes. Living the dream. But I do have some good news." Seth shrugged out of his coat and boots, arranging them in the right spots in the closet. In his gloved hands, he clutched two six-packs of bottled Belgian ale. "I got an email from Summit Community College."

"What'd they say?" Roman asked. "I'm guessing I already know the answer, since you used the word 'good' right before the word 'news.'"

Seth beamed. "I'm in for next semester!"

"Yes!" Dean exclaimed, thrusting his good arm in the air. "I knew you had it in you, again."

Seth turned the beers into the fridge, grabbing one for himself first. "Yeah, I tried sending the administration office an email explaining my situation and why my GPA is absolute shit, but turns out, nah, they really don't care. As long as I can pay for my courses, I can come back without any problems. I can even apply for financial aid, since I know this is going to be kind of costly."

"Better than Roman's school," Dean pointed out.

"Yeah, SCC doesn't require you selling one of your major organs to qualify for enrollment," Roman laughed. "What classes are you gonna take? How many?"

"I don't know. I haven't done this in so long, I'm not exactly sure what to do. Especially now that I have an actual major."

"I'll sit down and go over everything with you. I'm used to the monotonous procedure by now."

"Thanks, Roman. I'd really appreciate it."

Roman took him in a hug, balancing on his healthy leg. "I'm proud of you, Seth Rollins."

"Thanks. You know what? I'm proud of me, too."

"So far, the new year's already looking brighter, and it hasn't even gotten here yet," Dean said.

"What is that?" Seth asked, eyeing the scented chunk on the pan. "It looks scrumptious."

"It's our dinner. Lobster macaroni. I made it myself," Dean bragged.

"Did you? You actually cooked?" The wonder in his voice was true, and Roman didn't blame him.

"Without burning down the apartment, and with one arm constricted. What's good?"

"Great job, Dean."

The evening coursed on. Seth, Roman and Dean enjoyed their dinner in peace. Dean's face contorted at the taste of the ale. "Shit's too bitter, how do you guys even like it?" He trotted to the fridge to pour himself a glass of juice instead.

After dinner, Seth washed the dishes to give Roman a chance to rest his leg. While Dean browsed the DVDs, Roman's phone buzzed in his pocket. He answered a call from Dolph.

"Hey, Dolph."

"Hey, Roman. Curtis told me about what happened…holy shit, man, are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just gotta stay off my foot for a little while."

"Am I getting the story right, or is he on crack? Did you jump off Helen Hunt Falls?"

"I did."

"And survive!?"

"Nah, I died at the scene, actually. You're talking to my ghost right now. I'm trying to decide whether to haunt the coffeeshop, or my apartment, or my college campus."

"I would have missed that smart-ass mouth of yours if you'd passed away, Roman."

"Aw. I would have missed you too, Dolph."

"I take it you can't come crash my New Year's Eve party, then. It's gonna be sick."

"Wish I could. Doctor's orders, though. I have to stay home."

"Shoot, man. That's just…wow. I seriously can't believe it. I heard about it from Curtis, then saw it on the news, and…" Dolph paused for so long that Roman thought the call had disconnected. "Wow."

"You're telling me." Roman smiled.

"Well…I mean, just let me know when you're better, okay? I miss seeing you at work. And you still owe me a hangout at some point."

"I know I do. I wish I'd taken you up on the offer sooner. Now I'm stuck waiting even longer. Oh, and I have a late Christmas present for you?"

"Aw, you didn't have to do that for me."

"Sure, I didn't, if I was a real bastard. Luckily I'm not."

"Yes, he is," Dean said, and Roman poked him in the side.

"Is that your boy?" Dolph asked.

"It is," Roman confirmed.

"He's alive and well?"

"Little banged up in the body and mind, but I think he's gonna be alright."

Dean flexed his uncasted arm. "Damn right, I am."

"Good deal, Roman. I'm gonna get dressed for the party, but keep in touch. Seriously. Miss ya."
Roman was touched. He could get used to the idea of being missed. "Miss you too, buddy. Take care. I'll see you soon."

"You too, Roman."

"Oh, you own Walk The Line!" Dean cried as Roman ended the call. "How come I never saw this before? I love this movie."

"Do you?" Roman asked.

"Of course. Johnny Cash is, like, my hero."

"I didn't know that. Just when I think I have you all figured out, you surprise me with new information."

"Like I said, Ro. I'm a conundrum. Don't even know what's going on inside my own head. But yeah, this," he said, tapping the DVD case. "This movie is fantastic."

"Walk The Line it is," Roman said.

As much as he claimed to admire the movie, Dean was asleep well before midnight. The credits rolled. Seth finished off his second beer. Roman held a slumbering Ambrose in his arms.

"Sorry this New Year's Eve isn't too thrilling," Seth said. "I'm sure you've been to hotter parties in your day."

"You kidding? I'm not exactly the party-hard type. How well do you know me?" Roman grinned at him. "I'd rather be here with my boys, warm and relaxed in front of the fire, than with anyone else in the world, anywhere else."

"I don't know. If Ronda Rousey called me up with an invite to her place tonight, I just might forget my boys even exist."

Roman laughed. "I guess I can't blame you there. I might be gay…" He paused, sucking in his next breath slow, realizing it was the first time he was actually saying it as fact, though the fact had been well-known and plain and corroborated for quite some time now. "But Ronda Rousey is a looker."

"Yeah. Same here."

Had Seth just confessed it, too? Again, Roman was certain of it after all they'd been through…it was just strange to hear out loud. Strange and wonderful. His life in a nutshell.

He liked where he was. He liked who he was, for the very first time.

Roman let Dean sleep until just before midnight. He and Seth relaxed until that point, drinking, watching provocative cartoons and repeats of news broadcasts from earlier in the evening. With three minutes until the new year, Roman gently prodded Dean's shoulder with his own. The TV was low with the screams and hollers of outside celebrators.

"Wake up, babe," Roman breathed in his ear. "Almost time."

Dean rolled over and mumbled something imperceptible.

"New Year's resolutions time," Seth said. "Come on, place your bets."

"Those are so stupid. Nobody ever follows through with them," Dean said, sitting up. His hair projected from all sorts of angles against gravity. Roman took advantage of this and skimmed his fingers through Dean's mane.

Seth almost looked insulted by Dean's words. "So? We're not like most people. Maybe we can actually establish resolutions and commit to them for the year. I know what mine is, and I know damn well already I'm gonna see it through."

"What's your resolution?" Roman quizzed.

"Pull through my first semester of college successfully. No dropping out. No quitting. No failing. Good start, right? Baby steps. Finish off a semester. See where I am. Carry on."

"That's a good one. And I know you can do it."

"Okay, fine. My resolution is to learn one new song on my guitar a week, every week, for the rest of the year. Once I'm all healed up, anyway." He shook his cast. "Maybe I can cram three or four songs into a week to make up for missed time."

"Now that, you can definitely do," Roman stated.

Dean radiated at his encouragement. "And the first one I'm gonna teach myself is 'Stairway to Heaven.'"

Seth whistled. "Not an easy one. But you've got it."

"What about you, Roman?" Roman nearly drowned in those eyes of his as Dean anchored a gaze into him. "What's your New Year's resolution?"

Get engaged, he thought, but something held the words back. Let it build. Take your time. Really, truly think it over. Keep it a surprise until that day. Instead, he opted for something simpler, something that didn't thrill him at the same time it scared the hell out of him. "Not get kidnapped by a Wyatt?" Roman chuckled. "No, but my resolution is, I want to learn something new. Take up a new hobby. Seems all I do is work, go to school, and sit at home reading comics or playing video games. I want to go more places. Travel. Learn new things I'm not required to learn for ten thousand dollars a year. I want to be more interesting."

"Roman, whoever says you're not interesting is a goddamn liar," Dean said. He squeezed Roman's hand. "But I guess I can see where you're coming from. Compare any lifestyle to mine, and it can seem a little dull."

"Why don't you learn guitar?" Seth suggested. "I mean, it doesn't involve traveling, but it's something, right? And Dean could even teach you."

Dean's entire face ignited. "That's a great idea, Seth! A pretty good start in Roman's adventure to get out more. Maybe you can start joining me downtown to play for tips. Bail me out of jail when we get arrested for it, inevitably."

Roman chuckled. "Not a bad idea at all. It is a good start. I can work my way up to traveling and having adventures on the way."

"Baby steps," Seth reminded him. "We're both taking them."

"Guys, the countdown is starting!" Dean exclaimed. The countdown had been going on for the past half-minute. Roman, Seth and Dean joined in aloud from the ten-second mark. At five, Dean and Roman stared into one another. Through the eyes, straight to the soul.

"You have my heart," Roman said.

"And you have mine," Dean said softly.

"Two, one…" Seth finished off.

Fireworks lit the cold night as Roman Reigns took his love Dean Ambrose in a kiss and a promise. "I'm never letting go," he said.

"Good," Dean said back, voice low, breath warm on Roman's neck. "'Cause I'm not going anywhere. Promise."

Seth allowed them the moment, the kiss of hope and bliss and eternal standing, then fit himself into the equation by leaning against Dean and rubbing Roman's arm.

"Happy New Year, guys," Seth said.

Dean lifted his eyes to the ceiling. Roman wondered if he could see anything, anyone, past the home. Past earth. Through space. He wondered what was going through Dean's mind. He'd gained everything and more, unwrapping his present that was Dean Ambrose, yet still he was anxious to learn even more. Dig a little deeper. Walk a little further.

This was just the beginning.

"It's going to be killer," Dean said.

Roman believed it.

The End

Thank you so much for joining me on this journey. Hurts to say goodbye...but it'll make the next "hello" much sweeter. :) Join me in the upcoming sequel, "Who I Am", as we continue in the journey of the Lunatic Fringe, the Architect, and Superman himself. I can't wait.