Archive of Our Own

“So what club are we helping set up, exactly?” Seth inquired, for the sixth time since Xavier had approached him asking for his help during set-up for an event being put on by a club he was in.

They were making their way across campus, strolling side by side and Seth following Xavier’s directions because he had no clue where they were even going. “Man, don’t worry about it. Everyone’s super chill and they’re grateful for the extra pair of hands,” the gamer responded with a grin, once again blatantly avoiding the question.

The fact that Xavier seemed so determined to avoid giving Seth any information about where they were going was sending up some red flags in his head, but Seth decided - after a moment of internal contemplation - that he trusted Xavier (for the most part). That didn’t mean he was going to let it go. “Come on, just tell me. We’re on our way there. I’m not gonna back out now.” Well, he probably wouldn’t back out. There were no guarantees. If this was some weird pancake club, he might have to bow out and run for the hills. He loved Xavier, really, but some of the stuff the “New Day” (who even named their friend groups?) did was beyond even him. They were a blast to be around, but they could be . . . eccentric.

“Fine, fine. It’s SAGA, okay?” Xavier finally admitted with a dramatic huff, throwing his hands in the air. Throwing a fit and acting as if Seth was being the ridiculous one.

SAGA. That stood for . . . something that Seth couldn’t recall, but he knew it was basically the university’s LGBTQIA+ group. “You’re in SAGA?” A nod from Xavier had Seth’s brow crinkling in confusion as Xavier pushed open the building door and held it open for Seth to enter, following close behind. “Are you- I didn’t know you were-”

Xavier laughed and shook his head. “Nah, man, I’m cis-het. I’m just a very enthusiastic ally. I even have a pin!” he announced proudly, as if that meant anything at all, twisting at his waist to show Seth the back of his backpack. It was covered in various pins for things ranging from anime to memes to video game characters -- far too many of them for Seth to find the ally pin in the brief time that Xavier showed it to him.

Seth nodded slowly. “Alright. Cool, dude.” Though Seth already knew Xavier didn’t have a problem with gay people -- Seth was clearly an avid appreciator of beautiful people of any gender, and Xavier hadn’t even batted an eyelash the first time Seth had made a comment about a guy in front of him. They’d met in a math class, hitting it off instantly over their shared love of games. Clearly, though, there was still a lot about Xavier that Seth didn’t know.

“This is it,” Xavier announced, gesturing to a classroom door and making Seth frown in confusion. They were setting up for an event, right? What event would need extra hands but be small enough to fit into a regular classroom? He opened his mouth to ask exactly that but found himself being ushered into the room by an impatient Xavier -- who was clearly trying (and failing) to fight a grin.

Some of the desks in the classroom were arranged in a wide circle, the extra desks pushed to the back of the room, and people were leaning against the wall, sitting at or on desks, or standing around chatting. Clearly, no kind of event preparation was going on here. Seth turned to Xavier, raising an accusatory finger, but was prevented from speaking by someone shouting a, “Hey, Xavier!”

Xavier waved at whoever had greeted him, offering Seth an enthusiastic grin. “So, I might have lied,” he admitted, completely unapologetic, offering his palms to illustrate a lack of malicious intent and shrugging his shoulders helplessly. “I didn’t know if you’d come otherwise and I figured you’d get along with everyone. And there are some club members who are single.” The last part was added with a waggle of Xavier’s brows, grin growing into something shit-eating as he nudged Seth with his elbow.

Seth wasn’t sure if he was angry or not. A little irritated, he decided, but not angry. Maybe exasperated. Xavier hadn’t needed to lie to get Seth to come. Except Seth could easily have seen himself turning it down, claiming that crowds weren’t really his thing. And that wouldn’t have been a lie: Seth wasn’t exactly introverted, but he did like time to himself. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. It was just one meeting, after all. What was the worst that could happen?

“Hey, Xavier. Who’s your friend?” Someone had approached without Seth realizing (he’d been too caught up in his own thoughts -- that happened more often than Seth cared to admit), and Seth turned to look at the person who was speaking. Seth was a tall guy, taller than most people he knew, but this person was even taller than him; he had to raise his gaze a little to meet their eyes, and he felt his breath catch in his throat because this person was beautiful. Chiseled face and carefully maintained facial hair, dark hair pulled back in a bun, broad shoulders -- broad everything -- and an intricate tattoo sleeve running down one arm and ending at their wrist.

Seth realized he was probably staring and tried to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks, clearing his throat and offering a grin in hopes of downplaying the way he’d oogled this person. “Seth Rollins,” he answered.

The person actually offered their hand for Seth to shake -- something that caught him off guard, but in a pleasant way. He almost chuckled but bit back the light laughter since he had no idea how this person would react (would they think Seth was laughing at them?). Seth shook their hand, returning the firm grip and making eye contact as the person offered a broad smile. “Nice to meet you. I’m Roman. Vice president.”

Xavier scoffed and chimed in, “As well as the MVP of the football team last year. He’s co-captain this year.” It was amusing to watch such a large, almost intimidating person look sheepish -- and endearing, in a way.

Roman waved the declaration of his accolades off with one hand and turned to point at a podium. “Pronoun badges are over there. Should be some markers, too,” he explained, chuckling at the surprised look on Seth’s face. “We try to normalize it -- and, this way, we don’t misgender new members.” A shrug accompanied it, as if it wasn’t a big deal, and Seth only then noticed the badge on Roman’s shirt with “he/him” written in big, round letters.

“The badges were Roman’s idea,” added only for Roman to once again look almost embarrassed at the credit. Xavier bustled Seth over to the podium, crowding his personal space to get him to move -- impatient as ever. He didn’t even seem to bat an eyelash, quickly scribbling “he/him” on his badge, peeling off the back, and slapping the sticker on his shirt. Then he passed the marker to Seth, who found himself hesitating.

It was a simple sticker. It looked like one of those name badges worn at orientation; instead of “my name is,” though, it said “my pronouns are” with a blank space for someone to write their pronouns in. It should have been simple. Writing down “he/him” in his lopsided handwriting because those were the pronouns everyone used for him. He’d never gone by any other pronouns. But . . . he still found himself staring at the blank badge, chest tight for a reason he pretended not to understand.

After a few moments of hesitation, Xavier finally noticed, and he placed a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s cool, Seth. Put whatever you feel comfortable with. No one here is gonna judge,” he assured Seth in a gentle voice.

Seth glanced at Xavier from aside. It was moments like this that reminded Seth that Xavier was so much more than the loud guy who loved video games, dancing in public at inappropriate times, and pancakes -- he actually cared about his friends. Which, now that Seth thought about it, was probably why Xavier had tricked Seth into coming. Seth didn’t have many friends who were in the community (not for lack of wanting to, but he’d come from out of state, so all of his friends from high school who were queer and/or trans had gone to different colleges, and he hadn’t made very many new friends since starting college), and even he could admit that sometimes it got a little lonely, no matter how supportive his cis-het friends were.

A deep breath, a small nod, but Seth still found himself writing out “he/him,” though he wasn’t sure just how comfortable he actually felt with them. Chewing his bottom lip as he peeled off the back and carefully pressed it to his shirt, feeling almost restless.

Apparently, Seth’s discomfort was clearly visible even to those who didn’t know him, because Roman offered a reassuring smile. He didn’t say anything - which Seth was grateful for - and instead turned to survey the room. Eyes locking on someone on the other side of the room, Roman raised one hand and called out in a booming voice, “Hey, Dolph!”

Several people glanced over at Roman (Seth wasn’t surprised, considering just how loud Roman was) but evidently not the person he wanted, because someone tapped a slim blond’s shoulder to get their attention and pointed towards Roman. The blond looked over at Roman, lifting their head a little and raising their eyebrows inquisitively. Arms bent at the elbows and palms up towards the ceiling, they curled their fingers and pulled their hands towards themselves before pointing to their own chest.

Roman nodded and gestured toward himself. The person - Dolph, apparently - made their way over. Their hair was pulled back, but Seth could still see the tacky brown roots that gave away the fact that Dolph was overdue for a touch-up (or an entire dye job at this point, given how much brown there was). The hair coming out of the hair tie was curly, and they had eyeliner on to draw attention to their eyes. They really weren’t bad looking. And, now that Seth knew about the pronoun badges, he found his eyes flicking down to glance at their chest — “they/them,” written in a fancy, loopy font.

“Bad day?” Roman asked Dolph, pointing to his own ear.

Dolph nodded, heaving a dramatic sigh. “Yeah, I can barely hear anything today. Lecture was awful. Luckily, Gulak’s getting a lot better at signing, so he interpreted for me,” they answered, hands moving to form what Seth now figured were signs.

Roman pulled a face and did a sign of his own - hand in a fist, rubbing over the left side of his chest, the movement a little clumsy in a way that made it clear he wasn’t very familiar with signing. “Sorry, Zig. You’re getting a new pair of hearing aids soon, though, right?”

Knowing that Dolph couldn’t hear much of anything, Seth was impressed that they seemingly understood everything that Roman said. But Dolph just nodded and broke into a huge grin. “I am! Sami got the same model I’m getting, he got his like a week ago, he says it’s amazing how much more he can hear. Though he’s got more hearing than I do, so I’m not sure it’ll be total, like it is for him.” It was clear that Dolph enjoyed talking, because they rambled excitedly, continuing to sign and not even noticing Seth and Xavier standing next to Roman — except Xavier had wandered off while Seth was watching Dolph sign, apparently, because he was now talking to other people that Seth didn’t recognize.

Roman grinned back, clearly finding Dolph’s enthusiasm contagious, and was about to respond when someone shouted for Roman from a corner of the room and he had to offer a quick, “Talk to you later.” Then he hurried off, leaving Seth and Dolph — who finally noticed that Seth was standing there, looking a little lost now that Xavier was distracted (after all, the only person he’d even been introduced to, Roman, was busy talking to someone else).

“Well hey there,” Dolph greeted with a crooked grin, offering a wink. “First time, right?” At Seth’s nod, they chuckled. “I can tell.”

Seth didn’t mean to ask, but he found himself blurting, “Are you the only—” Cutting himself off by physically biting the inside of his cheek, realizing just how ignorant he’d sound if he finished the question.

Dolph’s eyebrows rose. “Am I the only . . . ?” They trailed off, a look of understanding appearing when they noticed Seth involuntarily glance down at their pronoun badge. “You wanna know if I’m the only non-binary person here, right?” they asked, even though they knew the answer (they just wanted to tease him, apparently).

Feeling his face heating up a little bit, Seth coughed into his fist and glanced away briefly. “Yeah,” he admitted.

Seth was surprised when Dolph laughed, loud and booming from their chest — genuine, too, only a touch mocking. “I prefer ‘genderqueer’ for myself. Becky is non-binary, though. Hey, Becks!” Calling out across the room, lifting a hand to wave when a person with long, fiery red hair turned to see who’d called their name. Becky offered a bright smile and a wave of their own before turning back to the tall blond they were talking to. “And Tyler isn’t here, but they’re genderfluid. Their pronouns change sometimes, but they/them is usually a safe bet if you ever meet Tyler outside of SAGA,” Dolph continued before pausing and glancing at Seth from aside. “Why are you so curious?” Clearly, they had no problem flat-out asking people who were practically strangers questions about topics that might make them uncomfortable.

And it did, in fact, make Seth even more uncomfortable than he already was, glancing down at his converse and fiddling with the straps of his backpack. “I . . .” Was he really going to open up to someone he didn’t even know about something he’d never put into words before?

Dolph chuckled and placed a hand on Seth’s shoulder. “I’m just giving you a hard time. You don’t have to tell me anything - though you should talk to someone. You clearly have something to get off your chest. There’s plenty of other trans people here, too, so feel free to talk to any of them. Or any of us, really.”

Xavier finally seemed to remember that he’d come to the meeting with Seth because he suddenly reappeared at his side. “Hey, Seth, let me introduce you to everyone,” said in a way that made it clear he was going to introduce Seth whether Seth himself let him or not.

Seth sighed softly and glanced at Dolph. “Hey, thanks,” he said quickly, earning a dazzling smile before Xavier started hauling him around the room by his arm.

“Be careful with Dolph. They won’t out you or anything, but anything not related to stuff we talk about here is up for grabs to them. They gossip about everything and everyone. They’re not a bad person, they just like attention,” Xavier whispered in Seth’s ear as they approached two shorter individuals standing extremely close and holding hands as they talked, leaning back against some desks.

They both had long hair and were about the same build. One had purple hair, wearing it down, while the other was a brunette who had their hair pulled back in a high pony that was slightly to one side. The one with purple hair wore lots of jewelry to go with — a quick glance at the pronoun badge — her flashy outfit and had her makeup coordinated with her outfit. The other — she/her pronouns too — was dressed more plainly, though she still looked beautiful. She looked even more beautiful beaming at the slightly smaller person next to her, clearly smitten.

Both people looked towards Seth and Xavier at the same time. “This is Sasha and Bayley,” Xavier explained, gesturing to each in turn. “These two lovely ladies have been dating for, what, two years now?”

Bayley nodded enthusiastically. “It was two years last Friday,” she confirmed.

Sasha cut in with a grin; “Bayley took me out and absolutely pampered me for our anniversary.” Clearly bragging and making a point of showing off her nails that Seth assumed had been done on their anniversary.

Xavier grinned. “Is anyone really surprised, though? You’re high maintenance, Sasha — don’t hit me, it’s the truth!” he protested as he skillfully dodged a playful swat from Sasha. “Anyways, ladies, this is Seth. I dragged him here because he needs friends.”

Seth scowled at Xavier. “I have plenty of friends,” he protested, though he did quickly amend (before Xavier could argue or attempt to correct him), “Okay, maybe not that many.” Looking at Sasha and Bayley now, brow crinkling. He’d seen Sasha around before — usually on the arm of someone, and he was fairly certain some of those people had been much taller, broader, and more masculine than Bayley. But he shook it off; that wasn’t any of his business. Instead, he just gave a crooked smile. “Nice to meet you, I guess,” because he had to maintain some sort of stubbornness to retaliate against Xavier bringing him here under false pretenses.

Xavier scoffed and smacked Seth upside the head, earning laughs from both women. Even something as simple as their laughter managed to highlight just how different the two were — Bayley with a quiet giggle, relatively contained but clearly genuine if the crinkles at the corners of her eyes were anything to go by, and Sasha with a loud, full laugh that was completely unrestrained. They definitely seemed to fit together, in some peculiar way.

After a brief parting, Xavier dragged Seth over to another group of people — four this time, two leaning against the wall, one seated on a desk, and one standing close to the desk. Seth recognized the last person — Roman, muscular arms folded over a broad chest, who flashed Seth and Xavier a grin when he saw them approaching.

“So,” Xavier started, loud voice effectively gaining the attention of the whole group, “this is the friend I’ve told you all about, Seth. Don’t judge the skinny jeans too harshly, poor guy never grew out of his emo phase — you should hear the music he listens to.” And, of course, Xavier laughed at his own wittiness; he always thought he was hilarious, even when — especially when — it was at Seth’s expense. (Sometimes, he wondered why he was friends with the guy, then they’d stay up all night playing video games and inhaling greasy pizza and he’d remember that Xavier was a blast when he wasn’t being a little shit.)

A deep, rugged voice chimed in, words drawled with just a touch of a flirtatious tone. “I dunno, I think he looks pretty damn good in them.”

Seth’s eyes flicked to the person who’d spoken and he grinned, because there was finally someone he actually knew. Shaggy, dirty blond hair in a messy, curly mop; plenty of scruff covering his jaw; blue eyes that held a glint of mischief. He was wearing his trademark ensemble (Seth was starting to suspect he didn’t own any other clothes) — a battered leather jacket over a tight tank and ragged jeans, all long, lanky limbs and just a smidge taller than Seth himself.

“Hey, Dean,” Seth greeted with an amused chuckle, used to Dean’s cheeky comments. He never knew how genuine the comments were or if they were just said to try and get a reaction from Seth, but he didn’t mind regardless. Dean was an odd guy, who always looked like he’d just stumbled out of bed the morning after going on a wild bender the night before, but he was a huge fan of wrestling —just like Seth himself —and generally just entertaining to hang out with. It didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad on the eyes, not necessarily conventionally attractive but still undeniably handsome.

Dean offered a peace sign, thrown up lazily, crooked grin still firmly in place as Xavier nudged Seth. “You didn’t tell me you knew one half of the infamous Chaotic Bisexual Duo!” he exclaimed incredulously, as if he’d expected Seth to have told Xavier every detail of his life.

Seth’s brow crinkled at that, offering Xavier a perplexed look. “One half of the what?”

Without missing a beat, Xavier repeated those very odd words: “Chaotic Bisexual Duo! The other half, of course — ”

Dean cut in, slinging an arm around the person next to him with a charming smile flashed at them. “This beautiful woman right here, the love of my life, Naomi Knight,” he introduced, earning a roll of Naomi’s eyes and an audible scoff as she shoved Dean’s chest gently.

“Shut up, Dean. You’re an idiot,” Naomi informed him, sounding faintly fond but mostly annoyed with the blond’s antics. She was short, though the heels she wore made up for some of the height difference between herself and Dean; she was curvy, showing off muscular legs in her high waisted jean shorts and her crop top offering a glimpse of her toned stomach. Dark skin and hair, the locks long, loosely curled and with streaks of purple through the ends of them. She was clearly way out of Dean’s league.

Seth snickered. “I’m glad I’m not the only one he hits on,” he quipped, earning a dramatic groan from Naomi at the reminder of what she had to put up with from Dean. Clearly, though, the two got along well, if they had a name for their pairing.

A new voice spoke up — just how many more people was he going to meet today? It had a thick Irish accent, deep and warm and inviting as the person chimed in. “Dean hits on everyone.”

Seth’s eyes flicked to the person sitting perched on one of the desks; they offered a big, cheeky grin, flashing white teeth and dimples. They — no, he, according to the pronoun badge — had stunningly blue eyes, the shade almost unnatural against his pale skin that contrasted so sharply with dark hair cut short but tousled lightly. He was in a leather jacket, like Dean was, but his was much newer looking; it fit him well, too, clung to his shoulders nicely. The popped collar was a bit over the top, but he still managed to pull it off. Seth felt his heart stop in his chest for a moment, just taking him in, hoping his staring wasn’t too obvious.

Luckily, Xavier saved him before it could get awkward. “This is Finn Bálor,” he introduced, gesturing to Finn as if presenting something — someone — impressive. And, well, he certainly was impressive.

“He has, like, two percent body fat, even though I keep shoving carbs at him,” Dean complained, earning a scoff from Naomi.

She cocked her head at Dean, eyebrows arched as she placed her hands on her hips. “Like you have any room to talk. Finn’s just /chiseled/.”

Dean narrowed his eyes slightly at Naomi. “Are you calling me scrawny?” he accused.

Naomi couldn’t stop a grin from curling at her full lips. “I was implying it.” She snickered at the mock-hurt look on Dean’s face, complete with a hand to his chest, pressed over his heart like it physically ached from her comment.

Roman laughed softly. “You should’ve seen him freshman year. I still don’t know where his ass went,” he remarked.

“What, is this Gang Up On Ambrose Day?” Dean cast Seth an imploring look. “See what I have to put up with every day? And Ro’s been doing this since eighth grade,” he informed Seth, clearly looking for some sympathy.

Seth merely held both hands up, indicating he was helpless. “I’m just saying, man, seems like you kinda deserve it.”

Everyone but Dean laughed at that, though Dean’s facade cracked and he grinned crookedly despite himself. That was one of the reasons Seth and Dean got along so well; they could trade insults and taunts without either of them taking it seriously.

Someone from another part of the room shouted, “Hey, Roman! When’s Dream showing up?”

Roman glanced over his shoulder to find the source of the question. “He’s not coming today, he’s got some dress rehearsal for a performance or something,” he answered with a shrug.

Dream? Forehead crinkled, Seth found himself far too curious to keep the inquiry to himself. “Someone in the club is named Dream?” asked with his best attempt at keeping the skepticism from coloring his voice. Maybe it was a nickname?

Roman turned to Seth and nodded. “Yeah. Velveteen Dream. He’s the president. And, before you ask, yes, that’s his real name.” At least Roman’s tone seemed to indicate that other people realized how odd of a name that was.

“Huh.”

Xavier grabbed Seth’s wrist, suddenly hauling him off without so much as a goodbye to the group they were talking to. “Come on, you gotta meet everyone else before the meeting starts,” he announced, prompting Seth to check the time on his phone with his free hand.

“Who’s the fresh meat?” someone asked, sounding amused, and Seth looked up from his phone screen to see two people sitting next to each other at a desk. The person who’d spoken had long blond hair, the person next to her — thank god for the pronoun badges — bright orange locks pulled back in a ponytail and what looked like goggles sitting on top of their head.

Going by what Dolph had told him, Seth assumed the smaller of the two was Becky, since they were the only other person in the room who had “they/them” written on their pronoun badge. As for the person sitting next to them, she looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put his finger on where he knew her.

“This is Seth Rollins, our resident edgelord,” Xavier introduced, gesturing to Seth with ridiculously dramatic flair to his arms’ broad, sweeping movements. “Seth, this is the power couple of SAGA. Becky Lynch — ”

“Hey there,” offered in another thick Irish accent, accompanied by a grin.

“ — and your majesty, Charlotte Flair.” This was accompanied by a deep bow to Charlotte, earning snickers from both Becky and Charlotte.

Seth’s eyebrows rose a fraction, not quite sure what the joke was or what information he was missing that would make Xavier’s weird behavior funny, but he knew better than to ask questions. “Do I know you from somewhere?” Seth asked Charlotte instead, adjusting his backpack straps.

Charlotte looked thoughtful, tapping her chin as she examined Seth with slightly narrowed eyes — allowing her gaze to travel down and then back up Seth’s entire body in a way that almost made him feel self-conscious. “I don’t think so,” she finally answered.

Becky leaned against Charlotte but looked at Seth. “You probably recognize her from all the posters. She’s plastered all over the campus — she’s the star player on the volleyball team, the basketball team, the track team.” They counted off the teams on their fingers, looking almost as smug as Charlotte did (clearly, she wasn’t overly humble). Their gaze drifted to Charlotte and they couldn’t resist pressing a quick kiss to her cheek.

Xavier put a hand up by his mouth, stage-whispering to Seth loud enough for both Charlotte and Becky to hear. “They finally started dating a few months ago and they’re insufferable now,” he informed Seth, earning indignant protests from Becky and a laugh from Charlotte.

“You’re just jealous you’re nowhere near as cute as us,” Charlotte informed Xavier, arm around Becky’s shoulders now.

Becky pretended to hold up a cup of tea, pinky raised, and offered it to Charlotte. “And that’s tea.” Charlotte raised an invisible cup of tea of her own, clinking their cups together and both of them taking a sip.

Seth couldn’t stop himself from snickering, more than a little pleased that someone was finally taking the piss out of Xavier — payback for teasing Seth the entire time he’d been introducing his friend to the club members.

“Okay, guys, time for our meeting,” Roman announced in that loud, booming voice of his — rather suddenly and out of nowhere, making Seth jump a little in surprise.

That seemed to be the cue everyone was waiting on, because they all found seats at the makeshift, lopsided circle of desks. Seth ended up between Xavier and Dean, backpack down by his feet and feeling that unease from before creeping back in as he found himself in unfamiliar territory once more. He’d never been to a SAGA meeting before; he didn’t know what they did or talked about, had no idea if he was expected to contribute to the conversation or if it’d seem presumptuous to insert himself in talks concerning a club he wasn’t even really part of.

It was rather informal, though that wasn’t too surprising given how laid-back everyone was. It turned out SAGA did have an event coming up in the few weeks, but they didn’t talk about it very much since Velveteen, the president (or, as Sasha put it, “our dear queer leader”), wasn’t there and he was apparently co-hosting it with Dolph. There was a joke or two about how that would go, since apparently Dolph and Velveteen tended to clash — similar personalities, according to Xavier, and a desire to always be the center of attention, according to Charlotte.

Before anyone would talk, they’d raise a hand to about shoulder level and Becky would see, nudge Dolph (who they were sitting next to), and then point to the person who was about to speak. Sometimes, they’d start talking before Dolph was looking, but Dolph still seemed to understand most of what was said. Throughout the meeting, Dolph did look to Finn a few times, who noticed and would sign what the person speaking had said. Xavier informed Seth that Finn knew sign language because he was best friends with Sami Zayn, who was Hard of Hearing; the two had learned ASL together, both of them coming from outside of the United States.

Then everyone took turns talking about things that had happened since the last meeting, primarily situations involving or about the person’s identity, be that sexual, gender, or a combination of both. Roman talked about a guy on the football team — he never said the person’s name specifically, but it seemed like everyone there (besides Seth) knew who he was talking about — who had apparently refused to get the memo and continued to approach Roman in hopes of talking him into “finding God.”

“I told him what I always do: if God didn’t want me to be queer, he wouldn’t have made me queer, simple as that,” Roman chuckled, looking more amused now, the irritation that had crept into his features disappearing as he made a joke out of something that clearly still bothered him on some level. Apparently, though, that was the extent of it. And the whole situation was still an upgrade from past experiences with a guy who’d since gotten kicked off of the football team. Not for harassing Roman, of course, but because he couldn’t pass a piss test. The context was provided by Xavier, who whispered information in Seth’s ear so he could understand the jokes and references being made.

Roman also, a bit more hesitantly now, announced that he was fairly settled on not having top surgery after all. “My chest isn’t that big, and I think I’d be okay with not getting it. I’m still not sure, but . . . Well, top surgery’s expensive and I think I could get on fine like I am now,” he admitted, giving Dean a small, grateful smile when the dirty blond bumped their shoulders reassuringly.

“Honestly, Reigns, you’re a sexy man no matter what.” Seth made a choked sound, turning red as his eyes snapped to Dolph, the source of the odd declaration. Clearly, they meant it to express support for Roman’s choices, though they certainly had a very odd — and inappropriate — way of showing it.

Luckily, Roman wasn’t phased by Dolph’s words. The only reaction Roman gave was a soft snort and a roll of his eyes. Finn leaned forward and offered a more serious, thoughtful response; “You can always change your mind in the future. You don’t have to write it off forever. But I think you look great the way you are, man.” He beamed at Roman, who clearly found Finn’s smile as infectious as Seth did.

Dolph started out as high-energy as before, dramatic and clearly enjoying hearing themselves talk, but their voice quickly turned bitter, expression becoming pinched, the more they talked. “My parents visited this past weekend. Which was cool, they gave me some money, and, y’know, misgendered me the whole time. Which isn’t anything new or surprising. They’ve been like this ever since I came out to them — they make a point of reminding me that they think of me as a boy. After all, they’ve always been all about their ‘perfect son,’ so they can’t even begin to fathom the idea that I’m not their son at all,” they ranted, voice raising as tears visibly welled in their eyes. They didn’t actually cry, instead swallowing hard and setting their jaw, leaning back in their chair and muttering a “whatever” under their breath as they glared at the desk in front of them.

“Hey,” Finn started, voice gentle, waiting for Dolph to look up at him and signing as he spoke, “You never know. They might come around. Sometimes it just takes a while.” Pausing and scratching the back of his neck, Seth almost thought that was all he was going to say, but then, after a squeeze of his shoulder from Roman, he took a breath and continued. “It took years for my dad to finally realize I was his son and that it wasn’t a ‘phase,’” paired with what might have been the most sarcastic air quotations Seth had ever seen.

Dolph shrugged their shoulders, their eyes snapping back to the desk after Finn finished speaking. “I don’t know. They just don’t get it,” they argued, voice lacking any sort of maliciousness towards Finn but still audibly worked up. (They sounded a bit calmer, though, so clearly Finn’s words had at least soothed them a bit.)

Becky chimed in then, tapping Dolph's shoulder so their gaze was on Becky. “They don’t have to get it to respect it. Most of my family doesn’t get it, but they still do their best to use the right pronouns. They’re not perfect, but they try, and that’s really all that matters.”

“Honestly,” Sasha started, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the desk in front of her. “If they don’t respect you enough to treat you with basic decency, screw them. You don’t need them.” She scoffed, waving a hand as if waving Dolph’s family off.

Roman frowned. “I don’t know about that,” he started carefully. “You deserve to be treated properly. You should do what’s best for you — and if that means cutting them out, then you know we’ll all support you. But family’s important. I’d try to work it out with them.” The certainty in his voice made it clear just how important Roman considered family to be, though he clearly was doing his best to not be too overbearing.

Dolph snorted derisively. “Easy for you to say, Roman. Your whole family accepted you from the beginning,” they retorted, though their words lacked real heat.

A soft sigh from Roman, though he didn’t argue with them. “I know. I’m really lucky that way.” He didn’t explicitly state that he was sorry, but the tone he used and the expression he wore both conveyed that he was apologetic.

Sasha threw up a hand, leaning forward and barely waiting for Dolph to glance at her before speaking. “I need tips on how to get away with beating up someone. I don’t know the actual university policy on fights, but someone needs to kick this girl’s ass and I’m more than willing to do it,” she explained, immediately earning Dean’s attention at the mention of a fight.

Bayley sighed, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. “I’ve tried talking Sasha out of it, guys, but she’s too hard-headed.”

That earned a scoff from Sasha. “Look, Bayley, I tried it your way. I went to the university and filed a report that she was harassing me, but you know how it goes. She’s a star athlete and I didn’t have actual, physical evidence, so their ‘hands were tied,’” accompanied with a roll of her eyes and air quotations. “So, I have to beat her up,” Sasha declared as if that was the most reasonable conclusion to draw.

Roman had to chime in then. “Or you could just not g—”

Dean slammed his hands down on the desk in front of him, making several people (including Seth) jump in their seats and even Dolph glanced at him without prompting. “Locker room. Beat her up in a locker room. There are no cameras. Make sure there are no witnesses too, of course,” he added, tone almost reasonable, in direct contrast to the grin he’d worn moments prior. Naomi promptly face-palmed next to him with a shake of her head.

Seth couldn’t stop himself from snickering at how enthusiastic Dean seemed about sharing his knowledge of prime fight locations, while Roman sighed heavily and ran a hand down his face, muttering to himself as he shook his head.

Sasha beamed at Dean. “Don’t ever expect me to tell you this again, but you’re a genius, Ambrose,” she informed him.

That earned a chuckle from several people around the circle, earning a mock-offended guffaw from Dean. “Why is that so funny? I’m brilliant.”

Naomi patted his shoulder. “If we want knowledge about obscure cryptids or fighting advice, then sure, you’re brilliant,” she offered him in a clear attempt at placating him. It was clearly a running gag, because anyone who knew Dean well or had a class with him knew the guy was bright — he acted like a doofus, but he was smart.

The rest of the meeting was rather tame and uneventful, though it was nice to hear stories from other members of the community. Everyone was laid back, too, and most of the people there were funny, though Becky’s sense of humor seemed to be exclusively bad puns that earned groans from everyone, including their blond girlfriend.

Roman glanced at the clock on the wall and cleared his throat, folding his hands on the table after gesturing to get Dolph’s attention. “So, that’s everyone. Unless Seth wants to share anything . . . ? Any questions, about us, the club, or whatever? You don’t have to, of course. No one has to share. But if you want to, you’re more than welcome to,” he informed Seth with a warm smile. His deep voice was even, calm, very soothing — he could see why a relatively high-strung guy like Dean would be best friends with Roman, who seemed to be such a steady, grounding presence.

There was a brief moment where Seth started to panic, but he took a deep breath — and Xavier squeezed his shoulder — before the anxiety could catch and really take off. He glanced down at his desk, then up at Roman; eyes drifted around the entire circle of people, finding only friendly faces, and Seth considered finally opening up about something he’d kept hidden for so long now. It was hidden so deep, buried so far down, that he wasn’t sure he could even bring himself to bare it to anyone, let alone people he’d just met.

Who else would he tell, though? If he told anyone, it’d be Xavier, and Xavier was right there next to him, giving him an encouraging smile. If anyone would understand him, it’d be the people there — and what did he have to lose? The only problem was actually putting his feelings into words after so long of bottling it up.

Surprisingly, no one spoke up to rush Seth or made any sort of indication that they were uncomfortable with the silence or eager for him to speak so they could leave. They all probably had places to be, yet they all were waiting patiently for Seth to form the words weighing so heavy on his tongue.

Seth swallowed hard, ran a hand down his face. “I, uh . . . I feel kinda weird telling you guys, because I haven’t told anyone before, but this place is the first place I’ve felt . . . safe enough to say it.” It also helped that there were actual non-binary people in the club too, though he didn’t say that aloud. “I’m- I’m non-binary,” he blurted, pushing the words out as fast as he could, approaching it like a band-aid and just ripping it off at all once.

His heart was pounding loudly in his ears and he couldn’t look at anyone, face warm and entire body suddenly feeling restless. Seth focused on trying to breathe slowly, taking measured breaths and so intent on making sure he didn’t start hyperventilating that he almost missed the gentle voice that asked, “What pronouns do you prefer?”

Brown eyes flicked up to see Roman leaning forward, eyebrows raised, and Seth exhaled, long and slow, when he saw there was no judgment in Roman’s eyes. Glancing around the circle, no one had any sort of disapproval or skepticism in their expressions; everyone just offered a smile of varying sizes, and Bayley even offered two thumbs up to accompany her dimpled smile.

Seth looked back down at his hands, fingers laced together, and slouched his shoulders a bit. “Honestly, I-” He paused when Xavier nudged him and inclined his head towards Dolph. Seth blinked, realizing his hair had fallen forward and hidden his face from Dolph and they couldn’t read his lips. He sat up straight, tucking his hair behind his ear, and scratched his jaw.

“I don’t really mind what pronouns people use for me. I guess he/him is fine? That’s how people have always referred to me. I don’t mind the pronouns as much as I do the whole . . . being male part that comes with it. Because I know I’m not a guy. I’m not a girl either.” Seth shook his head. “I’ve always known that I don’t fit into either category. But I didn’t know that being neither was an option until recently. I just thought there was something wrong with me,” he admitted with a wry, humorless smile.

Becky stood up and leaned over the desks to give Seth’s shoulder a squeeze. He looked up to meet their gaze, smile growing into something more genuine at the kind expression waiting for him as they sat back in their chair. “That takes a lot of guts, Seth. Proud of you,” they told him, and the sincerity in their voice made it clear how genuine the sentiment was. It might have been odd in another circumstance, someone he’d just met telling him that they were proud of him, but this was different. Becky had gone through similar struggles, had had to come out just like Seth had; knowing they were proud of him actually caused warmth to blossom in his chest.

Seth exhaled loudly and leaned back in his seat, scrubbing his hands over his face and raking his hair back before grinning at everyone. “That feels great to have finally gotten off of my chest,” he admitted.

“That’s what we’re here for,” Charlotte chimed in. “To listen to and support each other.” She laughed, head tipping back a little, when Becky whispered something to her, and Sasha rolled her eyes but looked rather fond.

Roman spoke next, voice as gentle and warm as it was before. “And it’s not just in here. Xavier has all of our numbers, he can give you them if you want them. You ever need someone, one of us will probably be available,” he informed Seth.

Naomi leaned forward and jerked her thumb towards Dolph. “Don’t expect any emotional support from Dolph, though. They’re the worst at the whole ‘other people have feelings’ thing,” she teased.

Dolph scoffed loudly and slammed their hands on the table — a bit too much force behind it, causing the sound to be a bit too loud and resulting in several people flinching a little, though Dolph didn’t notice. “How dare you! I am the best emotional support. I’m the best at everything I do,” they argued defensively.

“Dolph’s idea of therapy involves a ton of alcohol,” Sasha threw in.

Dolph pointed an accusatory finger at Sasha, opening their mouth as if to disagree, though they paused for a beat too long and then lowered their hand with a shrug. “I mean, she’s not wrong.”

Seth snickered and mouthed “thank you” at Roman, since Sasha and Dolph had taken up bickering across the circle at each other. The meeting wrapped up pretty quickly after that, everyone helping put the desks back where they’d been originally and cleaning up any trash that they’d accumulated during the meeting.

Xavier was waiting for Seth by the door, leaning against the wall and arms crossed with his eyebrows raised to create an expectant look. “So,” he started, clearly waiting for Seth to start talking.

Still not quite over Xavier dragging him here under false pretenses (and never one to pass up giving Xavier a hard time regardless of the situation), Seth merely mirrored the arched brows and echoed, “So . . . ?”

That earned Seth a swat from Xavier, both of them peeling off their pronoun badges and dropping them in the trash on the way out. “Come on, Rollins. What’d you think about the meeting?” Xavier inquired.

Seth paused, genuinely thoughtful for a moment. “I liked it. They’re all kind of weird — not that I have any room to talk. But they seem cool, too,” he answered, a small smile on his lips.

Xavier bumped their shoulders as they started walking down the hall together. “I’m glad you felt safe enough to open up,” he murmured, a rare moment of seriousness as he made eye contact with Seth to convey just how much he meant it.

A nervous chuckle from Seth. “Yeah, well, I guess I should say thanks, then, for bringing me. So, uh, thanks, nerd.”

Seth received a cheeky grin in response. “You’re welcome, edgelord. Ready for me to kick your ass at Mortal Kombat?” Xavier challenged, already moving on from that topic, though Seth knew Xavier would listen if Seth ever wanted to open up and talk. And maybe he would, in the future. With Xavier or even at a SAGA meeting — the thought of which made him realize that he’d already decided to join the club.

Only half-listening to Xavier ranting and raving as they walked, all dramatic gestures with his hands and even raising his voice for emphasis, Seth found himself smiling faintly, toying with the straps of his backpack as he thought about everyone he’d met at the meeting.

Maybe Seth had finally found somewhere where he could be himself, open and honest. And the thought lifted a weight off of his chest.