Chapter Text
Seth rolls his shoulders as he walks back through gorilla, cracks his neck to keep his movement loose and release the excess tension he feels – all the little things he can’t do in front of the crowds – rounds the corner to back stage and-
“Have you seen twitter?” His path is suddenly blocked by 6’5” of light chest hair and muscles.
“Why yes, Cesaro, that was a good match. Thank you. And hello to you too.”
Cesaro rolls his eyes.
“You want to see twitter. Or rather, you really don’t want to see twitter.” Oh god. Statements like that make Seth very, very, nervous.
“They aren’t circulating my dick pics again, are they?” It’s still a bit of a touchy subject, and certainly not one he’d ever bring up in front of someone like Ryback or Cena (the latter of whom had clapped him on the shoulder and told him to “rise above”, full of faux, smirking sincerity,) but with those he’s closer to, like Cesaro or Xavier, it’s become something of a rib. He can bring it up without feeling like he might spontaneously combust through sheer mortification.
Cesaro shakes his head and Seth is allowed a brief moment of reprieve from his anxiety before an iPhone is shoved into his hand, screen still glowing. His name is in the little search bar at the top of the screen, and the results are all screaming, capslocked blue links. None of it is about Survivor Series.
“WWE WRESTLERS OUTED BY LEAKED GAY SEX TAPE”
“SETH ROLLINS AND DEAN AMBROSE IN GAY SEX TAPE SCANDAL”
“NEVER SEEN BEFORE LEAKED FOOTAGE OF WWE STAR SETH ROLLINS IN GAY PORN SHOCKER”
Seth feels very, very sick.