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Roman's been aching for a while now, in too many ways he can name and some he can't. There's a dull thu-throb in his ribcage with every beat of his heart against it, and now that the adrenaline of the show has worn off he can feel slight twinges in the shoulder he leads the spear with. The drag of the canvas across his knuckles when he powers up for the superman punch has left a refreshingly stinging graze in the skin of his fingers. He counts the numbness in his hip and the cramping of his hands as casualties of the long-ass drive, but it's all gonna be worth it for the end destination. At the end of this drive is the balm for the less explicable ache in his stomach and the feeling of twisting emptiness behind his eyes. At the end of this drive is home. At the end of this drive, finally, is Seth.
The porch lights are on when he eventually pulls into Seth's driveway in Iowa, but there's a distinct lack of buzzing energy emanating from the house. Marek's not here, then. Roman gets it, he does, Marek has a life outside of his old tag partner, and Seth has reached a point in his recovery that's more on the 'healing' side than not, but still. It doesn't stop his eyebrows drawing in and down into a dark frown. When he or Dean can't be here, they kind of rely on Marek. No one likes Seth to be alone.
There's a quiet yipping noise when he steps up to the door, but Seth has it open before he can even get a fist up to knock and set Kevin off any more. Seth looks good, or as good as he can when the spectre of his injury hangs over him like a shroud. He doesn't smile, or limp forward for a hug, or do much else except look up at Roman and blink.
"Roman."
Not exactly the reception he was expecting, and he takes a minute to think back and double check that he did indeed call on the way to let Seth know he was coming. He knows he did, speaker phone on and hand held below the level of the dash. Seth's voice coming muzzy through the conduits, filling the cabin with the closest thing to comfort Roman's had for the last few months. He'd sounded bone tired, but not unwilling. Nothing here feels right.
After what feels like an aeon standing looking in through the door in the rapidly cooling night, Seth steps back and lets him into the house. There's an odd tension, or maybe a lack of it; a slackening of the ties between them, that has him standing awkward and silent while Kevin sniffs at his boot, twisting the strap of his bag back and forth between his fingers. Seth won't even look at him as he turns and walks gingerly back to the couch, just talks and lets his voice carry back over his shoulder.
"Just go up. Put your stuff wherever, the draw's still empty from the last time Dean was here. I'm not tired yet."
That's a straight out lie. Seth's exhausted. Roman can see it in the shadowed bags under his eyes and the pallor of his skin. His hair is a wreck and his beard has gone unshaven for far too long. But Roman hasn't even been in the house for five minutes and he's already been dismissed, so maybe now isn't the time to be pushing anything. Kevin seems to consider following him up to Seth's bedroom but decides better and patters over to Seth, who absent mindedly ruffles his ears when he jumps up onto the couch.
Seth's room is in much the same state as the guy himself; ordered enough to seem fine on the surface but with noticeable signs of casual neglect if you look hard enough. He moves a pair of boxers and a hoodie he's pretty sure belongs to Dean off the chair in the corner so he can dump his bag down. He's only staying for a couple of nights, so he'll just live out of his bag.
It's not really that late, and he should probably go down and talk to Seth. He hasn't actually said a single word to him since he got here. But he's tired, and this weird dynamic makes him feel too out of place, like the first time he stayed over before this house became a second home. He's worried that he's going to break something important if he pushes too hard trying to force the fit right now. So he strips down to his underwear, spends too long trying to figure out which side Seth will want with his bad knee when he usually sleeps either in the middle or on top of Roman, and then slips under the cover for what he swears will be an hour or so at max.
He's woken some time later by a cold hand on his arm as someone moves it. It takes him a minute to realise Seth's there, shoving one of the spare pillows between them before he sits and manoeuvres into place under the sheet. Roman feels a sharp pang of regret as he realises he left Seth to navigate the stairs on his own, regardless of the fact that he must do it multiple times a day. He moves to lean up and over the barrier between them, but Seth turns his face away when Roman's lips get close to his own.
"Go back to sleep, Roman. Didn't mean to wake you."
There's no warmth in his tone, no affection in his voice, and the use of his full first name for the second time sits wrong against Roman's skin, raises the hair on the back of his neck. Something is very, very wrong.
It makes every part of his body grumble in agitation, but Seth obviously isn't going to talk about it right now, especially not with the exhaustion he's obviously trying to hide seeping out of his pores like alcohol, so Roman slides back to give him some more room and closes his eyes. He hears Seth quietly sigh as he drops back down into sleep.
Roman startles awake for the second time that night with his heart pounding like crazy halfway up his throat. It takes him a second to realise that what woke him was an almighty smashing sound. He can hear the tinkle of glass or ceramic falling somewhere in the lower half of the house, and he can see Kevin shaking by the closed bedroom door, ears erect and paws up against the wood as he listens too. Another shattering sound and a cry has Roman jumping out of the sheets and to the door, racing down the stairs as fast as he can without tripping on or crushing Kevin beneath his feet. The kitchen light is on, and what he finds stops his heart and breaks it all at the same time.
Seth is sitting on the floor among a thousand shimmering shards of glass, knees drawn up and hands clutching his face, breath stuttering the way it always used to just before the tears started. Sure enough, his cheeks are glimmering like the sinister sea around him when he looks up at Roman's sharp inhale. He nearly chokes as he snaps both hands out with a shout.
"Kevin! No!"
Roman whips down lightning quick to scoop up the little guy, who had been valiantly trying to wriggle over to his daddy. He leans forward from the safe perimeter of the floor and hands the pup to Seth, who cradles him in his lap and buries his face again as the squirming bundle of fur tries to lick the still-falling tears off his cheeks. Roman can smell coconut and both Seth and the floor are smeared with oil, some viscous and some still gelatinous. Seth's hands are covered in it though, and it's dripping freely from his elbows and fingers. He's a sobbing, shaking, coconut-scented mess, and all Roman wants to do is hug him, damn it.
He grabs the broom out from beside the fridge and clears a path to Seth, dropping down to his knees once he's beside him. He tries to gently pull Seth's hands away from his face to make eye contact, but Seth flinches away with a whimper and turns his face away again. Roman leans back with a sigh, running a tired hand through his hair and closing his eyes against the sudden unexpected sting of tears. This isn't how this is supposed to go, at all.
He gets an arm around Seth's back and the other under his knees, hoping he's not doing more damage as he picks Seth up and sets him gently onto the counter. Seth continues to cry relatively silently into Kevin's fur as Roman sweeps up all the glass, dropping the bag of shards into the sink to deal with tomorrow. Seth's voice comes out croaky and rough from behind Kevin's head as he speaks.
"Is it gonna hurt him if he gets some of it?"
Roman considers the smears of coconut oil along the floor.
"Should be fine. He's a little thing, but it's pretty much harmless to them in small doses and I think I got most of the big chunks of it."
Seth nods silently, tears still slipping down his face. Roman gets Kevin down and shoos him up the stairs, coming back to stand in between Seth's legs. He pushes Seth's face into the crook of his neck and wraps his legs around his waist, picking him up and trying to keep as much weight and pressure off his bad knee as possible. He makes his way slowly up the stairs, murmuring softly to Seth the whole way that it's ok, they'll fix it, he's ok.
He doesn't put Seth down until they're up in the ensuite. He leaves Seth sitting on the closed toilet while he turns the shower on and strips off, coming back to help Seth stand and undress. He makes sure to keep his touches gentle and quick, simple and efficient. A stranger could see that Seth doesn't want to be touched with sex in mind right now, and Roman is far from a stranger. He gets Seth into the shower and steps in behind him, hand curling over his hip for security as Seth tests his stance on the wet tiles. Seth pretty much stands there and cries while Roman soaps him up, taking extra care to make sure all the oil actually gets broken up and washed off. At first it's that deep, lung shuddering sobbing of someone completely breaking down, and it pulls at Roman's tender heart and has him tearing up again. Around the time he's finished with Seth's calves and is turned around grabbing Seth's insanely expensive artisinal shampoo, it's lightened out to actual noises and hitches that at least let Seth catch his breath between bouts. He cries while Roman shampoos his hair, and while he rinses it out. He cries while Roman runs a very light conditioner through the ends, and while he rinses it out. He buries his face in Roman's chest and cries his poor god damn heart out while they stand under the dwindling heat of the water and Roman runs helpless hands across Seth's shoulders and back and presses kisses to his wet hair.
He's a lot calmer when they get out and Roman wraps Seth in as many towels as he can find, but there's still tears spilling out pretty frequently. Roman sits behind Seth on the bed and tries not to notice when the hotness drips across his fingertips as he pulls Seth's hair back out of his face. He can feel Seth's eyes on him as he crosses the room to his bag, dislodging the title as he searches for his travel jar of coconut oil to replace the one Seth smashed in the kitchen. It spills out onto the floor between them, too gaudy in the simple space they're trying to make here, another heavy strain on the fragile, fraying bonds stretched to capacity between them. Roman scarcely breathes as Seth reaches forward to pull it onto his lap. The gold and diamonds catch the light spilling out of the bathroom, but Roman's never thought that belt looked more ugly or improper.
Seth doesn't say anything, or scrunch his face up, or cry more than he is anyway, so Roman tentatively walks back over and sets to combing out Seth's hair. He's halfway through where Seth's blonde used to be (still sits wrong even now that he's not two-tone anymore, feels like one more way they lost their brother) when Seth clears his throat.
"Looks good, Ro," he murmurs, fingers tracing over Roman's side plates. "Looks like it was made just for you. Wouldn't want anyone else to have it."
Roman stays silent, because Seth's shaking.
"Shit man, I mean," he laughs through a mouthful of tears, "they even did it up all new and pretty for you. Look, full complete row of stones. Guess it made sense in the end though, didn't it?" He wipes his face and his voice turns bitter.
"Broken belt for a broken champ, right?"
Roman isn't sure if it's anger or pain that causes the tremor in his fingers, but he stills them by pressing them into Seth's skin, firm, real.
"Listen to me, Seth. You're not broken. You weren't a broken champ. Technically you didn't even lose the belt. I'm just waiting for you to come back and take it, baby boy. And this," he holds up the belt so that the double R glints in the semi-dark, "this means ain't nobody getting close to it except me. But it was never just mine, Seth. It's ours. We've always shared titles, remember? And anything that's mine, is yours too. Always will be. You're golden, Seth. Golden, you hear me?"
Seth reaches up to grab the belt, and Roman lets him. He's not expecting him to drop it at their feet next to a disgruntled Kevin, though.
"I don't need that to know I have you, Rome. You've always been too good, too big hearted, give yourself to the worst of us. It's every one else that I need that belt for."
"You don't need anything, Seth. You're the brightest thing they've ever seen."
He goes back to combing through Seth's hair, affirmations and adoration spilling from him with every strand. He tries to spread the truth of what he's saying, the golden picture he paints with his heart the same way he spreads the warmed oil through Seth's hair, all pervading and sweet and almost smothering in it's intensity. Seth's tears finally dry by the time Roman's spreading the remaining oil over his hands and working into Seth's shoulders and back, hands gentle and reverent over the arch of his neck and the wings of his shoulder blades. His lips brush across Seth's glowing golden skin with the weight of his praise, feeling like they're dripping it undiluted right into his pores.
Roman praises his intellect, his kindness, his humour and sweetness. His dedication, his drive, his resilience. The ease with which he reaches out to the lost causes like Dean and the lost souls like Roman. His ability to create brilliance and something magnificent from nothing, to spark fires in hearts and eyes with just a word. The way he turned their three jagged pieces into a family. Roman praises his ability to play a part, the way he connects with so many people, the way he will work himself to the bone to make it work for others. His beautiful brown eyes and dark lashes, the gap in his perfect teeth, the perfection of his body. He praises the heady, silky scent of his skin in the early morning and the soft, sweet touch of his lips at night. Roman praises everything that is Seth, gives breath and voice to the three am thoughts he has when his chest hurts from how much he loves Seth.
He keeps his touch constant, never lets a break form between his sliding hands and Seth's body. By the time he runs out of specifics; is reduced to "I love you" and "you're perfect" and "my dearest", the tightly corded muscles in Seth's back and arms have unwound, slack and relaxed under the shine of fragrant oil. He's pliant and heavy, malleable in Roman's arms as he lays Seth back into the bed.
Against the white sheets Seth's skin is radiant, glowing golden in the dimness like he's reflecting the light Roman always tries to kindle in him back out at him. He turns the lights out and slides in beside Seth, sitting up against the headboard and helping him to roll over so he can tuck his head under Roman's chin. His body rests mostly on top of Roman's, bad knee elevated across Roman's legs.
Seth's never been able to sleep straight after a break like that, needs to wash his brain clean with inconsequential things. So Roman flicks the tv over, and they work their way through Lilo and Stitch and most of the way through Tarzan, clutching each other tighter through the parts that bring tears to Seth's eyes again and leave a tight lump in Roman's throat, Kevin snoring away at their intertwined feet.
They fall asleep in each other's arms, and it's worth the cramp in his neck the next morning if it means Roman can wake to Seth gently tracing his tattoo with soft fingers, smile tender and eyes full of liquid gold where they catch the sunlight.