Chapter Text
Seth is tired. His match against Randy has admittedly taken its toll on his body, but the jetlag from this morning's flight from Texas to England isn't helping either. After sampling the area's local cuisine, he just wants to get back to the hotel and relax.
So seeing his former Shield partner making a commotion in front of his hotel isn't very thrilling, to say the least.
Seth tries to avoid a scene, but it's almost impossible to get into the hotel without practically knocking into him.
"'Scuse you," Dean scowls. Seth just stares at Dean with exasperation. Dean is noticeably swaying and obviously drunk.
"Hey, watch it, you berk!" someone with a heavy accent shouts, as Dean backs up into the stranger.
"I don't know what the hell that means, but fuck you too!" Dean yells back at the retreating figure.
Seth shakes his head disapprovingly. He doesn't have time to deal with this shit. He doesn't have time to deal with him.
"Friendly city, huh?" Dean asks, turning back to a bewildered Seth.
Seth raises his hands in a show of surrender and tries to move around him, but Dean isn't having it apparently.
"What? You think you're better than me just because you've got some stupid belt?"
"I'm better than you because I'm not staggering around and knocking into random people," Seth says with narrowed eyes and raised chin.
"Oh, so just because you're Straight Edge, you're better than me?" he slurs.
"That's not-" Seth denies.
"It's what you meant," he cuts off. "Asshole." Dean starts to teeter on the balls of his feet. "And who says you're a random person? Maybe I wanted to knock into you. S'too bad this place is spinning or else you'd be out cold. Would serve you right for stealing that title away from Roman." Dean gives Seth a light shove on his chest. "Asshole," he repeats under his breath.
"Look, we've both had a rough night," Seth says through clenched teeth, not wanting to start a fight. "You're obviously incapable of doing anything remotely beneficial to society, so why don't you head up to your room and call it a night?"
"Oh, look who's trying to be peacemaker now. This is fucking rich. Are you scared of me because Tweedle dumb and Tweedle dumber are still dead from Orton's RKOs?"
Seth laughs heartily. "Are you serious? Scared? I beat you. Every. Single. Time."
"Because of the Authority and stupid fucking Wyatt doing stupid fucking magic tricks."
"You fell for them," he taunts.
"Yeah, and you reaped the rewards. Like always," Dean spat.
"I'm not fucking scared of you," Seth hisses.
"Sure," he mocks. He pats Seth on the cheek like a little child, before sitting down right in the middle of the sidewalk in front of the hotel.
Seth looks at him with a mix of anger and curiosity. He doesn't know why he's still here. He doesn't know why he's letting Dean talk to him like this.
He could walk away. They're not partners anymore. They don't even wrestle each other anymore. That's how little they think about one another now.
But Seth can't seem to drag his feet away. He can't seem to tear his eyes away.
Just then, the hotel doorman approaches Dean hesitantly. He crouches down to Dean's eye level and clasps his hands together in front of him. "Excuse me, sir, but you can't sit here. As a guest of our establishment, I welcome you to-"
"I'm a paying customer. I'll sit wherever the fuck I want to on your property," Dean interrupts loudly in the doorman's face.
"Sir, if you don't-" the doorman responds more sternly.
Something overcomes Seth suddenly and for some reason, he finds his hand on the doorman's shoulder. The doorman turns his head in surprise. "It's alright," Seth assures him. "I was just escorting him up to his room. Had a few too many, you know? Sorry for the inconvenience."
The doorman gives him a hard look and then sighs. "Good luck," he mutters, getting up. Seth watches him walk back to greet a few late-night patrons coming back from a clearly sophisticated event.
Seth turns his attention back to Dean. He sighs audibly, so that Dean can hear his displeasure.
"Dean," Seth starts.
"I don't want your pity," he snarls, still staring at the concrete.
"It's not pity," Seth says honestly. Dean looks up at Seth with big eyes and simply nods. Seth shifts uncomfortably, knowing that Dean can still read him as if nothing's changed.
"What's your room number?" Seth starts.
"What, no dinner and drinks first?" Dean asks, giving Seth a small smile.
"Dean, I'm serious," Seth says tiredly.
"So am I." Dean pops up suddenly and almost falls forward, but Seth is there to steady him. "You've got to earn that, mister."
"I don't recall ever buying you dinner or drinks," Seth says offhandedly, shrugging. Dean looks at him with a small glint in his eyes.
"Touché," Dean says softly.
And for a moment, everything feels familiar again. Like they're just two friends sitting on the floor playing poker. Trying in vain to see the other's hand over their shoulders and lingering a little too closely when they can't.
"Tell me what room you're in, so I can drag your ass there and I can get some sleep," Seth quickly changes subjects, while taking Dean's forearm in an attempt to guide him back into the hotel.
"Why do you care? Why not just leave me here?" he asks, tugging back on Seth's grip.
"WWE has an image to maintain. Stephanie and Triple H would have a fit if they knew a drunk wrestler was bothering people in front of a nice hotel like this." It rolls off Seth's tongue easily now.
Lies.
"Oh." There's still that glint in Dean's blue eyes, as if he knows something Seth doesn't, but the rest of Dean's expression is difficult to read.
"This isn't about you," Seth comments. "It's not always about you," he goes on quieter than before. Seth doesn't know if his last sentence is in reference to something deeper or if it's just a reiteration, but either way, it's unsettling.
"Never said it was," Dean hums.
Dean's non-answers forces Seth to get into his own head. Maybe there's a reason Seth has to lie and qualify all of his statements, as if he doesn't even believe them himself. But then again, maybe Dean is just messing with his head.
Seth should be irritated at that thought. Here Dean is questioning him as if he understands how he feels and how his mind works. As if they're still close.
But he doesn't have it in him to be mad at him anymore. And maybe that's why they ended their bitter feud so abruptly. He just doesn't have it in him to fight him anymore.
"Reconsidering the dinner and drinks part?" Dean asks, snapping Seth out of his thoughts. "I'm a simple meat an' potatoes kind of guy, but for you, I'll settle for that fancy schmancy stuff you like. And I got kicked out of a few pubs down the street…But this is England, so I'm sure there's a few pubs down the other way."
"What are you talking about? I'm taking you upstairs. Where is your room key?"
"Hmm…impatient are we? Can't say I'm surprised…after our last sexual encounter and all."
Seth glares at Dean. Dean holds his gaze.
"That was once and it was a long time ago," Seth finally breathes, crossing his arms over his chest.
"Twice actually," Dean corrects. "But you brought it up."
"You're the one still talking about it," Seth retorts.
"I am," Dean concedes, but not before giving Seth another boyish grin.
"Where is your damn room key?" Seth asks, annoyed.
"My shoe," Dean replies.
"You still do that?"
"You remember?" Dean raises his eyebrows.
Seth stops. He remembers everything.
"It's fucking weird," Seth says instead.
"People are always touchin' you and grabbin' at your pockets…Nobody's gonna be messin' with your shoes. I figured it's good there," he explains. Dean sticks his left foot out and lifts up his jeans to display the small, rectangular envelope wedged between his sock and shoe. He takes off his shoe and the envelope falls out.
"Gross, man," Seth recoils, as Dean slips his shoe on again.
"See," Dean gestures as if he made his point.
"You're so weird," Seth sighs again.
"You used to like me that way," Dean says.
Used to.
Seth looks at Dean, trying to read him, but his eyes are empty and bloodshot. It's obvious that any meaning Seth caught is unintentional. It seems their words and the other's presence are having a much bigger effect on Seth than it does for Dean. Seth clears his throat before bending over and quickly retrieving the item.
"You're a floor above me. Come on." Seth grabs him by the arms and attempts to drag him into the hotel.
Dean doesn't budge. He just closes his eyes and takes in a deep breath.
"What are you doing? Come on. You're shivering; you're gonna catch a cold."
Dean looks at him oddly, but he cooperates with Seth by draping his arm around Seth's shoulder. He starts chuckling unexpectedly, as they start moving.
"What's so funny?" Seth questions in confusion, while Dean lays his head against him.
"You do care about me," Dean mumbles, a small smile forming on his face.
"I do n-" Seth starts, but is interrupted by the snoring coming out of Dean's mouth. Seth groans, shaking him lightly once Dean stalls.
"Dean, wake up. There's no way I can carry you like this."
"Use your magical CrossFit powers," Dean murmurs, burying his head into the crook of his neck.
"You asshole. You're obviously not completely out of it yet. It's only five more minutes. Give me five minutes."
"Not my fault you're weak."
"Oof." Seth groans, wrapping an arm around Dean's waist and lowering his head to get into a better position. "Can you at least stop dragging your big ass feet? Help a brother out," Seth says.
"Brother?" Dean's head shifts to get a glimpse of Seth.
"It's an expression," Seth replies. "Don't read anything into it."
"What does my big ass have to do with my feet?" Dean bemuses.
"No, no. Your feet are big. I was saying 'big ass' to demonstrate the extent- ah, nevermind. Like you have any idea what I'm saying right now," Seth gives up, nodding his head appreciatively to the same doorman who came up to them earlier.
"Are you checking out my ass right now? 'Cause I don't think it's right to take advantage of someone in my kind of state…" Dean continues, obviously ignoring Seth.
"If you don't shut up-" Seth begins.
"…But I won't tell anyone if you do," Dean grins, raking his fingers across the lower part of Seth's stomach.
"Stop that," Seth reprimands, batting Dean's hand away.
"Damn, man. CrossFit is magical."
"God, I forgot how horny you get when you're wasted," Seth mumbles. "The elevator is this way," he goes on, leading Dean to the right.
"Okay, fiiiine," Dean says dramatically, the back of his hand on his forehead. "We can skip the dinner and drinks, but you better give me some breakfast in the morning."
"Yeah, not happening. And if you're looking for free food, there's a breakfast buffet in the morning, you dumbass."
"You accepting?" Dean asks in surprise.
"What, no! I swear you have selective hearing. That would explain why you always did the exact opposite of whatever I told you to do when we were partners," Seth comments.
"Are you sure? The night's still young," Dean suggests, nudging him in the side.
"And you're still shit-faced."
"So if I wasn't shit-faced, you'd be considering it?"
"So deductive reasoning isn't too hard for you, but listening is?"
"What?"
"You're doing this on purpose," Seth says accusatorily, as they arrive at the elevator lobby. Seth presses the 'Up' button and an elevator immediately opens. "Come on. People were giving us weird looks in the main lobby and I'd rather not run into someone I'd have to explain this to," Seth frowns, gently pushing Dean into the elevator.
"Remember when we got stuck in that elevator at home?" Dean asks suddenly, still wavering.
"We are not taking the stairs," Seth refuses, unamused. He presses the number '16' button and the doors close.
"The same night I hooked up with those two hot chicks and you lost all your money?" Dean reminisces, leaning back against the cold metal.
"Don't remind me," Seth mutters.
"It was like five grand," he laughs. "I guess no one can ever fault you for being a pussy."
"Go big or go home," Seth mumbles.
"I never thanked you for doing that karaoke thing with me, by the way. It definitely got me laid that night," he says. "But you are a terrible singer. The worst."
"You're not any better," Seth says.
"It was a crazy night," Dean continues, still grinning. "Good times, right?"
Seth doesn't respond immediately. It bothers him that they're able to fall back into this rapport so easily. Alcohol is Dean's excuse, but what is his excuse?
The elevator stops suddenly. Seth grips Dean's shoulder tightly before he almost tumbles into the opposite wall. The doors open.
"Up?" a female guest asks, as she holds onto a bucket of ice.
"Yeah," Seth nods, straightening up. The woman makes her way onto the elevator and several seconds pass by the time Seth opens his mouth again. "Yeah," he repeats in a voice low enough and strangled enough that Dean knows it's not just in response to the woman.
The rest of the ride is silent, aside from the occasional humming from Dean. When they reach the 16th floor, he holds Dean by the waist and clumsily guides him out of the elevator. Seth shoots a grateful nod to the other elevator occupant for holding the elevator door.
"Almost there," Seth remarks to Dean in a hushed tone. "Should be a few more doors."
"I'm thirsty," Dean says matter-of-factly, as he opens and closes his mouth like a fish.
"Shh. It's late." Seth stops in front of Dean's room and detaches himself from Dean's body. He props him up against the adjacent wall, before taking out Dean's keycard. "I'll give you some water once we get inside. Are you rooming with anyone?" Seth asks.
"You offering?" Dean sloppily traces his lips with his tongue and attempts a poorly executed wink.
"You should see yourself right now. Really attractive," Seth rolls his eyes, sliding the keycard.
"I'll bet," Dean says puffing out his chest and grinning widely.
"I don't know why I'd expect you to catch sarcasm when you're like this." He shakes his head and uses his foot to prop the door open.
"Like what?"
"Nevermind. Come on, I'm exhausted" Seth says, grabbing Dean by the hand and pulling him into the room.
"Hey!" he exclaims, caught off-guard. "Fucking hurts."
"Can you make it to the bed yourself?"
"Mmm-hmm," Dean nods, He proceeds to stumble from the chair to the TV stand and finally to the bed. Dean then starts to focus on taking off his shoes.
"Stay there. I'll get you some water." Seth disappears into the bathroom for a minute and reappears with a full glass of water. Dean is lightly snoring, with his arms hugging his stomach and his sock-covered feet dangling over the edge.
Seth sighs and sets the water on the nightstand.
"Dean, get up," Seth urges, poking him on his hip at the same time he's pulling on the covers underneath Dean. Dean mumbles something incoherent, but rolls over anyway. The movement is just enough for Seth to dislodge the blanket and sheets out from underneath Dean. He throws the covers over Dean and moves to close the light, when Dean suddenly adjusts himself.
"Seth?" he murmurs, his eyes still shut.
"Yeah, Dean?"
"Thanks."
Dean immediately falls back asleep, but Seth knows that his words are genuine. His mind travels back to times when everything that happened tonight was normal. Times they would spend hours in hotel rooms and rental cars talking and laughing together about nothing and everything. Times they would fall asleep next to each other after a grueling match and wake up with Dean splayed across the floor, with all the blankets tangled around him. Times they would look at each other as if all they ever needed was one another.
Seth lowers his head and purses his lips.
But that was all in the past. Seth is the new WWE World Heavyweight Champion, the undisputed future of a company run by the Authority. And Dean could never be part of that future.
He switches off the light and turns to leave.
"Go to sleep."