Chapter Text
Cody woke up knotted with Roman, their bodies having somehow conspired overnight to achieve maximum entanglement efficiency. Both their legs were locked together, one of Roman’s arms was curved protectively across Cody’s ribs, and somehow, Roman’s head had found its resting place directly on Cody’s chest, his dark hair splayed across Cody’s skin like a warm blanket.
Not that Cody was complaining about the closeness; in fact, if he were more awake, he might have admitted it was nice, comforting, even. But Roman’s one fatal flaw was that he ran hot. Whether it was his Floridian roots or just a side effect of his whole 'physically perfect demigod' situation, Cody couldn’t tell. What he could tell was that he was about three minutes away from melting into the mattress, and that he needed the AC dialed up to arctic levels, stat.
With a soft grunt, he began the delicate task of extricating himself from Roman, inch by cautious inch. He didn’t care if he woke the man at this point; survival demanded a reprieve from the swelter. But the second Cody shifted, Roman’s eyes snapped open, sharp and alert, as if he’d never been asleep at all.
It was infuriating, really, Roman’s uncanny ability to vault from comatose to combat-ready in two seconds flat. A useful trait, maybe, in some high-stakes scenario. Cody wasn’t at all seeing the bright side of that particular superpower, not when he himself required at least thirty minutes to an hour of blearily blinking himself into existence, one strong coffee, and a small pep talk from his own reflection before he could be considered alive. Roman’s talent was an affront to Cody’s entire morning existence, in fact.
Roman’s head lifted at the slight movement, his arm tightening around Cody’s waist in what Cody could only describe as a possessive sulk. It was too early for rational thought, and Cody was teetering on the edge of heatstroke.
“Roman, you’re hot,” Cody grumbled, weakly pushing at the iron grip pinning him in place.
Roman shifted, nuzzling into the crook of Cody’s neck. Cody didn’t need to see the shit-eating grin as much as he felt it, sharp and smug against his skin. And he couldn’t really blame anyone for his walking right into that one.
“Thank you, Nightmare,” Roman murmured, voice smooth and untouched by the groggy haze that plagued other mere mortals upon waking.
Cody scoffed, mustering enough energy to kick his legs out, trying to leverage some space between them, but all that accomplished was getting Roman to move upward instead of off.
Now Roman was stretched out fully on top of him, long and heavy, chest pressed against chest, hip to hip. Roman’s face remained buried in Cody’s neck, his breath warm and steady, while Cody groaned under the sudden weight.
Roman’s heartbeat thudded against Cody’s ribcage, a rapid, insistent rhythm that betrayed either a surge of morning energy or extreme nervousness. With Roman, it was impossible to tell, and Cody probably wouldn’t be able to until the man decided to let it slip.
If it really was excess energy that had Roman acting like a human paperweight, Cody had a few ideas on how to solve that particular problem. But first, he needed to hit the bathroom and, ideally, chug his morning coffee; though, depending on how well Roman played his cards, the coffee could be waived.
“Are you planning on letting me off the bed today?” Cody asked, the question lacking any actual bite. His arms, long since defeated in their efforts to pry Roman off, slid up to trace soothing circles across Roman’s bare back.
Roman hummed, a sound low and drowsy in his throat. “Nothing important exists outside this bed,” he replied, his breath warm against Cody’s neck.
“I beg to differ,” Cody countered, already imagining the blessed chill of the bathroom tiles under his feet. “There’s food, for one. You like food.”
“Mm,” Roman murmured, entirely too pleased with himself. “But I like you more.”
Cody snorted before he could stop himself. Well, he wasn’t about to argue with the sentiment; it was sweet, even if it was a lie. Roman and his family had a known, documented history with food. Cody had personally witnessed the man annihilate some magnificently vast spreads. Safe to say, it was only his unshakable certainty in Roman’s devotion that kept Cody from breaking up with him on principle alone.
“Can I at least use the bathroom?” Cody asked, trying to at least barter diplomacy.
Roman finally lifted his head, propping his arms on Cody’s chest and resting his chin atop them. He blinked sleepily, but his eyes were still too sharp to qualify, gaze locking onto Cody’s, bright and intense, like he was attempting to memorize every freckle and shadow on Cody’s face. The shift in weight drew a muffled “oomph” from Cody as he squirmed, seeking any position that didn’t press directly on his overfull bladder.
“Can’t you hold it?” Roman asked, faux-innocent.
“I’ve been holding it all night, apparently,” Cody said through clenched teeth, wincing as another wave of urgency hit.
Roman studied him silently for another minute, eyes searching Cody’s face with an intensity that made Cody’s heart twitch despite his very urgent bodily needs. For a fleeting second, he swore he caught something hesitant flicker across Roman’s expression. Cody groaned. Whatever was brewing, it was entirely too early in the day to unpack, and he would need at least a three-to four-hour raincheck before his brain would be able to achieve peak problem-solving mode. He had more pressing issues at the moment.
“Roman,” Cody said testily, voice flat with warning, “I refuse to wet myself because you couldn’t bear to see me go.”
Cody braced, using both hands to heft Roman’s solid frame off him, managing to dislodge him halfway. The other half, Roman, thankfully lifted off himself, sighing deeply like it was a hardship to be separated from Cody.
The man rolled into Cody’s vacant spot the second Cody’s feet hit the ground, stretching out and stealing the warmth Cody had left behind. Cody didn’t even have the mental capacity to shoo him away at the moment; moving a clinging Roman was a battle best fought with an empty bladder and a caffeinated head.
Cody shuffled to the bathroom, the cool tiles a sharp contrast to the warmth of the bed he’d just escaped. He handled his business with efficiency, flushing the toilet once he was done. Heading to the sink to wash his hands, he couldn’t stop his mind from wandering.
They’d been in a good place lately, relishing the peace of a surprisingly good stretch. Sure, they still bickered, because that was just part of their DNA. But Cody liked to think they’d grown. The days of clipped tones and fiery standoffs were mostly behind them, replaced by a new rhythm of actual conversations of things neither of them used to know how to say, hashing up solutions for their problems, instead of the head-on judgment that used to reign. Basically, they had both stopped trying to win and started trying to understand.
Still, Roman’s unease this morning had rattled him more than he cared to admit. The way Roman had stared up at him, like Cody might vanish the second he left the bed, was a new development. Roman wasn’t the sort of person to wear his feelings on his sleeves, so whenever something accidentally bled through, it stood to mention its seriousness.
He sighed and bent forward, splashing cool water on his face, the shock of it mentally preparing him for the day ahead. He took a deep breath and glanced up, watching rivulets of water trace down his jaw in the mirror, when a glint caught his eye.
He froze and squinted, peering even closer at his reflection, because it had to be some Through the Looking Glass nonsense, a portal, a talking rabbit, anything to explain the impossible sight staring back at him... there was no way he was seeing what his eyes thought they were seeing.
But the mirror stayed perfectly still, utterly devoid of magical portals or small hobbit men telling him he had some grand conquest to fulfil, so he shifted his gaze to his own hand. The left one, to be precise.
He slowly lifted the hand to the light, taking in the sleek, silver jewelry glinting innocently on his finger in all its glory. A piece of jewellery, mind you, that had definitely not existed when he had gone to bed last night.
He dropped his hand with a huff, both palms pressing flat against the sink to keep himself grounded, or maybe to stop himself from storming back into the bedroom to throttle the man responsible. This had actually solved the entire mystery of the morning. Roman Reigns, master of composure, had apparently gone full domestic outlaw while Cody slept.
It was actually kind of romantic… in a deranged, criminally-preemptive sort of way.
Except for one tiny, extremely significant detail.
The proposal was supposed to be Cody’s thing!