Work Text:
“Here’s your winner and still WWE Champion Dean Ambrose!”
His hand was raised in the air as the cheers from the crowd got louder. He’d won. He’d retained his championship. He’d beaten both Seth and Roman. Shane and Daniel got in the ring to celebrate with him as the SmackDown locker room made their way out. The ring was soon filled with people giving him pats on the back and high fives and he smiled as he let The Usos carry him on their shoulders. He felt so happy and even though he didn’t consider everyone in the ring to be his friends, he couldn’t help but accept the hugs he was receiving, as well as the words of praise. That feeling of happiness only lasted until he was left alone in his locker room. The high of his win was soon replaced by an awful feeling of guilt. He swallowed hard then, a lump forming in his throat as he remembered what he had done some minutes ago, out there in the ring.
He and Roman had an understatement: if they were going to fight each other there was no holding back, they would do so as they would fight anybody else. Of course, Dean didn’t anticipate what was gonna happen. In the heat of the moment, he allied himself with Seth freaking Rollins and put Roman through a table. Seth Rollins, the guy that was responsible for so much shit that Dean didn’t even want to remember. Seth, the scumbag that he hated more than anyone. He couldn’t think of a worse betrayal than that. To try to put Roman out, his best friend, the love of his life, with the help of his worst enemy? What was he thinking? Nothing, nothing was on his mind but winning. That was all he could think about when he got into that ring. Was he that desperate to win that he had to rely on Seth? Now that he had actually won he felt miserable. Surrounded by so many people that wanted to celebrate with him, and he could only think about one person. He could only remember the times when he and Roman would celebrate together, just the two of them because they didn’t have anyone else; because they didn’t need anyone else. The lump in his throat got bigger as he gathered his stuff to leave.
He was walking backstage looking for Roman. He needed to find the other man and make sure that they were still ok. As ok as they could be. At the very least he needed to make sure Roman didn’t hate him. He wasn’t sure if he could leave with that. Turning a corner he came face to face with the last person he wanted to see.
“Well, well, well, if it isn’t the WWE Champion,” Seth said with a tone of mockery.
“Out of my way Rollins,” Dean growled out.
“You didn’t want me out of your way back in that ring, though,” He said, a smirk forming on his lips.
“I swear Seth…” Dean started, but Seth cut him off.
“You should be happy Dean. You proved to the world that you’re not the weak link everyone thought you were. Better yet, you proved them that you’re not as crazy as you seem, that you can actually use your head. Admit it, if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t be champion right now” Seth laughed as he said that, and Dean was sure he believed every word he was saying.
Dean was ready to tell him off again when he saw a door opening a couple of feet away from them and Roman stepping out of a locker room. Seth kept talking and Dean felt as if he was frozen on the spot, waiting for Roman to notice him. When he did, Dean felt miserable all over again. He looked tired, and when his eyes locked on Dean’s he could see the anger in there, but mostly the hurt. The betrayed expression that he wore made Dean feel sick. And Seth was still there, talking about whatever and Dean could only imagine how that must have looked to Roman. He was still looking at him, at them, and then he shook his head walked away. Dean didn’t waste any time in going after him.
He could hear Seth yelling “Hey Ambrose! I’m not done talking!”, but he ignored him. Almost running to catch up with Roman. Dean wasn’t one to apologize. Ever. And there had been situations in the past where Roman had understood that, where he hadn’t asked for an apology. Most often than not Roman would just let things go. But now Dean felt the need to say sorry, to explain to Roman that he had not planned what had happened. That he would never do something like that to him intentionally.
“Roman!” He yelled. Roman stopped and turned around faking a smile. Dean was confused, he’d thought Roman was going to be extremely angry at him, in fact, he knew Roman was angry. But Roman only seemed exhausted and he looked a lot older than he really was.
“Hey, congrats champ,” He said, his fake smile widening.
“I...I don’t… what?” Dean couldn’t find the words he wanted to say. Words of apology that tangled together in his throat.
“You did great. I uh… I’ll see you around” With that Roman turned to leave, but Dean caught his arm, he turned around and Dean couldn’t think of anything else to do but hug him. So he did. He threw his arms around Roman’s neck clutching his hair tightly. He buried his head in Roman’s neck and breathed in his scent softly. Dean wasn’t one to cry. Ever. But right there he could feel Roman’s shirt dampening with his tears. He waited for Roman to hug him back, and just as he thought that it wasn’t going to happen Roman’s arms wrapped around his back. And it was so easy to get lost in that embrace, in how Roman was hugging him as tightly as he was, in his familiar scent and warmth. Oh, how he’d missed being held by the other man. He swallowed hard because he needed to say how sorry he felt, but he couldn’t quite get the words out yet. They stopped hugging, but he still held onto Roman’s hand, afraid that the Samoan was going to leave before he could say anything.
“Look, I’m sorry,” He said after a little while, and it didn’t seem to lift that heavy feeling off his shoulders, off his chest, “I didn’t plan on doin’ anything. You… you know me… I was…It was a heat-of-the-moment kind of thing…” Dean tried explaining, “And before, in the hallway, I was looking for you and he just came at me, started talking…” His ramblings were cut off by Roman.
“It’s ok Dean, I understand,” Roman told him.
“No. No, it’s not. It’s so not fucking ok” Dean declared.
“I would’ve done the same thing.” Roman reassured him.
Dean let out a humourless laugh “Don’t say that. We both know is not true” he said. “I think you’ve had a fucking chance, plenty actually, and you didn’t take any of them. So don’t bullshit me” I know you he thought.
“What do you want me to say then? huh?” Roman asked.
“Fuck, I don’t know. Something. Anything”
As the minutes ticked by Dean felt anxious at Roman’s lack of response. His hand was still holding onto Roman’s tightly and he could feel Roman’s pulse under his palm. It reminded him of all the times they held hands before. Dean didn’t consider himself to be sentimental, but he could remember each and every one of those times.
“Hit me, ” Dean said suddenly.
“What?” Roman asked in disbelief.
“Come on! Hit me!” Dean insisted.
“I’m not gonna hit you, Dean.”
“Why not?” He said.
“In case you forgot we just had a match” Roman retorted.
“Still. What I did was pretty shittty” He said.
“What’s done it’s done. I mean it wasn’t against the rules or anything” Roman argued.
“Come on!” Dean said, raising his voice. He was feeling a little desperate, and those tears in his eyes were threatening to spill again. “Hit me!” He shouted.
“I said no,” Roman said calmly.
“You’re gonna tell me you’re not mad at me? Huh? I teamed up with that back stabber son of a bitch and you’re just gonna let it go?” He screamed. He didn’t know what else to do or say. He started to hit Roman’s chest then. His tears falling freely and his frustration pouring out with them. A string of hit me, hit me, hit me, falling from his lips.
“Stop,” Roman said and grabbed both of his hands. Why couldn’t Roman just be mad at him? Scream at him a little or even hit him before he could forgive him? Why did he insist on letting things go so easily? Was he used to it by now? Was Dean that bad of a friend? Was he that bad of a lover that Roman was prepared to be disappointed by him? Did Roman expect Dean to do what he did all along?
“What can I do then?” Dean asked.
“Nothing.” Roman replied. “Is not like you can take back what happened”
Dean took his hands out of Roman’s and ran them through his hair. He then slumped on the ground, back against the wall, with Roman following.
He buried his head on his knees. Memories of a simpler time passing through his mind. He thought of how things were before, after Seth’s betrayal. He thought of how easy he had fallen for Roman, of how happy they were. And he wondered what had happened along the way. At what moment did they begin to drift apart? He looked at the title on the floor beside him. It was nothing but a piece of metal, yet it had so much power over him, over them. He had dreamed about that title for what seemed like forever and now that he had it he just wanted to destroy it. If it meant that he was going to hurt the person that he loved the most, the person that had been there for him pretty much since they started on this company, then he didn’t want anything to do with it. He thought of the way he felt after Seth decided to betray them, and wondered if Roman felt the same way right now; if he felt worse because now it hadn’t been one, but both of his brothers who had stabbed him in the back.
“I’m sorry,” Dean said again, he wasn’t sure if he was saying sorry for what he’d done earlier, or for anything he had done before. But he knew that it didn’t matter how many times he said it, they’re relationship wasn’t going to be the same again.
“I know,” Roman said. His voice full of emotion. Dean lifted his head to see that Roman’s eyes were filled with unshed tears, and he cursed himself for being the one to put them there. He hugged Roman again, and it felt like a goodbye of sorts. Something Dean didn’t want to think about. He wasn’t sure how long they stayed on the floor like that, but when they decided to get up and leave, Dean still wasn’t sure that they were ok.