Work Text:
“Roman…”
Seth swore under his breath as he quickened his pace, legs burning from the effort of trying to match Roman’s furious stride. The man was angry and hurt, Seth understood, but that was no reason for him to travel at ten steps per second. Seth was quickly realizing that being Roman’s emotional support companion was a full-body workout.
“Roman!” he finally barked, grabbing a handful of Roman’s shoulder and yanking him to a stop. The sudden motion had Seth half-panting, half-scolding. “Would you slow down for one goddamn second? You’re killing me here, man.”
Roman turned, eyes flashing angrily. “Why are you here?” he snapped, the words clipped and sharp. “I would’ve thought you’d slink back to whatever rock you hide under when you’re not out causing mayhem.”
Seth immediately glared back at the other man at full power. Oh, he did not like the insinuation of that statement at all. Not when he had simply been minding his own business before Roman dragged him all the way to Utah to play superhero. Or was it cops and robbers? Either way, it wasn’t the point.
“Fuck you, Roman Reigns,” Seth seethed, punctuating each syllable with a sharp jab of his finger against Roman’s chest. The man didn’t so much as flinch, and Seth’s irritation climbed a higher notch. “Fuck you to the depths of hell. You called me, remember?!”
He shoved Roman back a step and found a flicker of satisfaction when Roman’s jaw tightened, nostrils flaring in warning. For one tense moment, Seth thought the man might actually swing, right there in the parking lot. Honestly, he wouldn’t have minded. A little physical catharsis between old enemies could’ve done wonders for both of them.
But instead, Roman did the most infuriating thing imaginable, and in a moment of absolute restraint or absolute zen, he closed his eyes and inhaled-exhaled deeply, the heels of his palm burying into his eyes to complete whatever mood reset he was currently running.
“You’re right, I did.” Roman finally said, and all traces of irritation had disappeared. Seth was going to have to ask Roman to teach him that one. “I’m sorry.”
The apology had Seth rearing back in surprise, head twisting behind him to check if someone had sidled up when he wasn’t looking, and Roman was perhaps apologizing to them instead. There was no one there.
The action was apparently amusing enough to pull a weak huff of laughter from Roman.
“You’re well within your rights to be pissed; this entire situation is fucked up,” Seth said, voice losing some of its usual edge. “But you gotta see things from Cody’s point of view too.”
It was Roman’s turn to rear back in surprise, maybe not so much at the words themselves, but at the source. Seth Rollins, of all people, defending Cody Rhodes. If the world had any sense of dramatic irony, thunder would’ve cracked right then and there.
If anyone asked, Seth would’ve sworn he only did it to get under Roman’s skin, a little moral upper hand to add to his collection. But the way Roman’s expression flickered told Seth that it had hit deeper than he’d expected.
“See, that’s the thing, we’ve talked about this,” Roman said suddenly, frustration bleeding through every syllable. He threw a hand up and resumed his long, purposeful stride deeper into the parking lot, this time not quite sprinting like a man being chased, but still fast enough that Seth had to jog a few steps to catch up.
“It’s not even about the ring,” Roman continued, “or Cody ignoring me—as painful as that was—it’s the fact that he’s scared of me.” He clicked his key fob aggressively in several directions, the silence accompanying the clicks punctuating his growing agitation.
Seth reached out and gently redirected Roman’s arm toward the correct row, since Roman had somehow lost the information of their parking location from this afternoon till now. Not that Seth blamed him one bit, he understood frayed nerves more than the next guy.
Roman grunted in thanks when the chirp finally sounded, turning and stalking in that direction.
“For God’s sake, Seth,” he went on, “how the hell does he intend to marry me if he’s going to spend the rest of his life tiptoeing around what he thinks I might do when I get angry?” His voice cracked just enough at the end to reveal the hurt, eyes turned to Seth for an answer to his very valid question.
“Alright then. Hypothetically—what would you have done if he called you the second the ring got swiped?” Seth asked.
Roman didn’t hesitate. “I would’ve marched straight to Drew. Nothing in this situation is Cody’s fault. Drew is the one who can’t get his head on straight to make it through an entire day without causing chaos.”
Seth found himself scrunching his nose at the statement. Roman wasn’t wrong in anything he had said, far from it, but the sentence didn’t particularly settle down well with him. Roman must have caught the look on his face.
“What?” Roman asked, turning to face him fully. “Did I say something wrong?”
“Not wrong,” Seth said after a beat, waving a hand to dismiss the previous thought. “Just… missing the point.” He leaned casually against the passenger side door. “You scare people, Roman. And no, me, Mox and Jimmy and Jey do not count.” He added quickly when Roman opened his mouth.
“So yeah,” Seth continued, “I can see how someone might assume you’d be absolutely livid if they messed up.”
And that was the heart of it, wasn’t it? People always assumed the worst about Roman Reigns. It was one thing for the whole world to paint him as a tyrant, but it was another when Cody did it. When the person he intended to spend the rest of his life with looked at him and saw danger instead of safety.
Seth understood perfectly the irony and exhaustion of it all. He, Roman, and Mox had been floating on this same wrecked boat for years, long before the waters got this murky. They’d simply learned to balance better on the waves.
“God.” Roman exhaled, pained, a soft sound that cut through Seth’s heart. He leaned his weight against the car beside Seth, head dropping slightly, voice stripped of its usual authority. “Are we ever going to fully atone for the bad decisions we’ve made?”
Seth huffed out a resigned laugh. “Are you ever going to forgive me for hitting you with that chair?” Roman scoffed. “There’s your answer.”
They stood in silence for a moment, the low hum of the parking lot lights buzzing overhead. There was something poetic in the way they just existed there. Two men who’d burned too many bridges to count, leaning against a car like it was the last solid thing keeping them upright.
For people like them, their sins never truly faded. Instead, they were often poorly patched over with shaky apologies and cheap promises, then picked apart again by anyone looking too closely. Every time they tried to move forward, someone reminded them of what they’d done to get here. It was exhausting, the way redemption for them was always conditional, constantly under surveillance.
Seth had learned to live and even laugh through the judgment. He’d made his peace with being the villain in someone else’s story, and he supposed Roman had too. Although Roman had been ceaselessly working to be better, clawing his way toward something much more sincere, and that was what made the sting sharper. Cody was supposed to be the peace Roman could finally set his armor down in. Yet, here he was instead, breaking Roman’s heart one fearful silence at a time.
“Hear him out, Ro,” Seth said softly, voice uncharacteristically gentle. At least one of them deserved something good in their life.
Roman’s jaw tensed. “What else could he possibly have to—”
“Hear him out,” Seth repeated firmly, cutting him off. “Trust me, this is the last thing you ever want to give up on.”
Roman stared at him long enough that Seth started to wonder if he’d gone too far. His eyes darted between Seth and the arena entrance, like he was weighing which battle he wanted to lose less.
Finally, Roman muttered under his breath, “The sky must be blood red for you to be defending Cody.”
“I might not necessarily like Cody, but I like what both of you have.” Seth shrugged. “It would be a shame to see all this crumble over something so… unimportant.”
Roman’s glare flicked dangerously to Seth.
“Fine, not unimportant,” Seth rectified quickly. “But you’ve both come this far, had bigger fights. This can’t be the one that stomps you both.”
Roman’s voice dropped low, heavy with something that almost sounded like defeat. “It’s the one that truly matters.”
“Then fix it,” Seth said, tone firm. “Because if you don’t, you’ll answer to me.”
Roman’s head snapped up, eyes wide with incredulous disbelief. Seth bumped Roman’s shoulder with a grin and the sort of good-natured antagonism that had kept them both alive through worse nights.
“On a side note,” Seth added, peeling off the car with a lazy stretch, “I might be going on a mini-date with Drew.”
It was a rather impressive feat for Roman to choke on someone else’s words and the stale parking lot air, a sound that sent a small, very private flare of triumph through Seth.
“A simple smash-and-grab mission, Seth.” Roman sputtered, arms flung wide like he was pleading with the flickering sodium lights for backup. “Grab the damn ring, and get back unscathed and unattached.”
Seth tapped his chin thoughtfully. “I grabbed,” he said, tone mock-solemn, “but I’m currently working on the smashing part.”
“Rollins!” Roman scowled, the single-word rebuke that usually meant Seth had crossed a line two towns over. Seth laughed outright.
“Relax. I’m not the one who’s going to get married. I’m just going to ask him out.” He flashed a grin that was half mischief, half dare. “I feel like Drew just needs… a Cody to temper those otherwise stray thoughts.”
Roman’s eyebrow went up so far it nearly grazed his hairline. “Not to throw shots here, but if it lands, it lands,” he said slowly. “You consider yourself a Cody?” He looked at Seth like he had lost the plot. Seth wasn’t even offended, in a way he probably had.
Seth took the question like a prize. “Well,” he amended, arms wide as if offering the universe a bargain, “he’ll just have to make do with a Seth then.”
Roman made a noise, part-horror, part-lament, contemplating everything he’d ever done to deserve this timeline. Seth couldn’t help but smack Roman lightly on the shoulder for his complete lack of faith.
“For that, you get to stand right here and wait for your fiancé,” Seth said, snatching the car keys from Roman’s hand.
“A Drew and a Seth,” Roman muttered, shuddering at the thought. He relinquished the key with a sigh heavy enough to have its own luggage. “I want to tell Hunter, if only for the joy of watching that vein pop at his temple.”
“We’d be the best couple in WWE,” Seth crowed, as if this were not just a joke but a streaming opportunity. “We’d put you and Cody to shame.”
“Couple?” Roman tracked Seth’s movement with laser focus, voice tightening. “I thought it was just a date. A mini-date, you specifically said.”
Seth’s grin stretched wider, the dangerous kind that implied long-term plotting. He slipped into the driver’s seat and shut the door. Roman leaned in toward the passenger window, inspecting him as if Seth might sprout devil horns and a fork.
“What can I say, Roman? You challenged me.” Seth’s grin turned wolfish.
“Seth…” Roman warned, the word carrying the exact same tired affection he used when he thought Seth was about to set something on fire on purpose.
There was, underneath all the banter, a small, honest crinkle of worry in Roman’s eyes, and it made Seth’s chest tighten because it meant Roman cared enough to be wounded. It was one of the few things Seth liked about the guy, even when Roman was being impossible. Not to mention, it t went both ways. No matter which category their relationship fit in that week: frenemies, allies, active antagonists… Seth worried about Roman just as terribly. Constantly, a little helplessly, and often irrationally.
“Talk to your fiancé, Roman,” Seth said finally, voice softening. “I will call him, and if you haven't sorted this, I will personally kick your ass.”
Roman wore a pout-scowl that would’ve looked ridiculous on anyone else, but on him, it somehow managed to radiate mild threat.
“Can we circle back to the Drew thing?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation back to the mission at hand, with a hint of curiosity that suggested he was picturing Seth with awkward flowers.
“No,” Seth said flatly, without missing a beat. Then, with exaggerated deliberation, he rolled up the passenger-side window, the slow torturous sound of glass sealing away Roman’s impending tirade, until Roman’s muttering was cut off mid-curse. Seth’s grin, feral and triumphant, was the last thing Roman saw before the window locked with a clean click.
The car purred to life, the engine humming smoothly beneath Seth’s hand. He patted the steering wheel, tossed Roman a lazy salute through the glass, and peeled out of the parking lot in a flourish, leaving Roman standing there thoroughly unimpressed.
Cody was prepared for a lot of things tonight. Grovelling, pleading, a string of promises that he intended not to break this time, maybe even a slight scolding about the Seth showing up to save the day issue, but that one would definitely need to come last, preferably after the groveling.
What Cody wasn’t prepared for was Roman Reigns himself, the intended recipient of the aforementioned apology itinerary, standing right there in the parking lot, leaning against Cody’s car after storming off in a huff to where he had pointedly told Cody was his hotel.
The man had his arms folded tight across his chest, back resting against the car like he owned the whole damn lot; his head was slightly bowed, eyes trained unflinchingly on Cody the moment their gazes met. The sight stopped Cody dead in his tracks.
It wasn’t as if Cody could’ve missed him even if he wanted to. Nearly every other car was gone by now; just the two they’d come in, and what Cody recognized as Hunter’s unmissable black SUV sitting a few rows down. A couple of others that probably belonged to Nicholas and Adam, but Cody couldn’t bring himself to care. His attention was wholly, painfully fixed on the man leaning against his car, the man he’d managed to simultaneously love and infuriate beyond reason.
Behind him, the rest of the cavalry finally rounded the corner, and the instant they caught sight of Roman, the collective tension in the air snapped.
“Shit,” Jimmy muttered, dragging a hand through his braids, already exhausted by the long night.
No one moved. Even Jimmy, who could usually be counted on to chirp something reckless, stayed dead silent after that one word. Sami looked about one stray scowl away from passing out, and Damian’s jaw ticked with barely concealed exhaustion. The fatigue was a living, breathing thing among them, heavy enough to choke on.
Cody could feel the bone-deep and emotional wear and tear that came with the chaos of the past week. Every single one of them had been dragged into his personal disaster zone, and he hated that more than anything.
“You guys go,” he said finally, voice steady even though his insides were a mess. “I’ll talk to him.”
Sami’s head lifted sluggishly. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair sticking up at impossible angles. “Are you sure?” he asked wearily, begging for permission to get as far away from here as possible.
Cody wasn’t sure. Not even a little. But this was his mess, and he’d dragged them all through it long enough. The least he could do was see it through on his own.
“Yeah, I’m sure,” he lied smoothly, forcing a quick smile that didn’t fool anyone.
He tossed the keys of the car not serving as Roman’s personal leaning post to Damian, who caught them and threw the other set back to Cody.
“Call if he starts shouting,” Jimmy said, only half-joking.
Damian ushered the rest of the crew toward the other car, his hand on Sami’s shoulder as the redhead trudged along in a daze. Jimmy and Jey were already sniping at each other under their breath, the low rhythm of their bickering muted only by their fatigue.
Cody watched them pile towards their car before steeling his nerves and heading for the immovable mountain in front of him.
Roman stood exactly where he was, not bothering to move an inch, even as Cody stopped directly in front of him. If it wasn’t for the regular blinks of the other man’s eyelids, Cody might have thought him frozen in place.
“You left two hours ago,” Cody started, trying for conversational and landing squarely in nervous.
“I’ve been standing here for two hours,” Roman said simply.
Cody blinked. “I thought you were going to your hotel.”
Roman simply shrugged like he couldn’t possibly imagine why he had chosen to stand here instead.
They both turned as the low rumble of an engine rolled through the lot. The other car peeled out of the driveway, headlights washing briefly over them before vanishing into the night. Cody caught sight of Damian at the wheel, looking grimly focused, and Sami slumped half-asleep in the passenger seat, which left Jimmy and Jey together at the back. Cody winced; he did not envy that particular arrangement. For Damian’s sake, he hoped they were all too conked out for their explosive brand of bickering.
Before he’d finished the thought, Roman’s arm shot out and pulled Cody closer to himself, eyes trained on Cody’s left leg. Cody finally tore his gaze away from the retreating car and limped forward to meet Roman, biting back the pained wince the action pulled from him.
“How bad is it?” Roman asked, still glowering at the offending limb.
“Ice pack and a day off it,” Cody answered, breath hitching around the words. He forced his weight into a steady heel and tried to look steadier than he felt.
Roman’s gaze finally slid up from the swollen knee to Cody’s face. His eyes catalogued the tiny twitches he found there and stored them. Cody felt exposed and oddly relieved all at once.
“Roman, I’m sorry,” he blurted, and realized halfway through the sentence how small those words had been in his head.
In all the excuses and justifications that had taken place that night, Cody realized that he had actually forgotten to apologize. His intentions, noble as they were, had hurt Roman severely, and he had been too busy on the defensive, completely missing the apology he owed the man in front of him for making Roman worry unnecessarily.
Roman’s shoulders unclenched fractionally. “I know,” he said softly.
“I mean it,” Cody said, more firmly. “I thought I was doing the reasonable thing—trying to keep you from getting angrier. Now that it’s over and I actually think about it, I can’t stop asking myself why I didn’t just pick up the phone.”
Roman’s eyes sharpened. He looked almost surprised by the admission. “Are you scared of me?” he asked suddenly. The question came out blunt and oddly small.
It was the kind of question Cody hadn’t expected. Scared of what Roman might do to other people? Maybe. Scared of Roman in general? Not a chance. Cody rolled his eyes, and the corner of his mouth twitched up, trying to defuse the moment with something ridiculous.
“I’ve seen you hide under the covers during a thunderstorm, Ro,” he said, trying for levity. It landed, and the soft chuckle that escaped Roman felt like permission to keep talking. “Kinda hard to maintain your looming personality after that.”
“So you were scared of what I’d do to Drew?” Roman asked.
It wasn’t said like an accusation, but it still landed like one, quiet and uncomfortably honest.
Honestly, Cody wasn’t. There was no love lost between him and Drew; if anything, part of him would’ve appreciated a bit of Roman’s brand of divine retribution. The idea of Drew eating a spear or three was not exactly unappealing. The truth was simply much more stupider: this entire week had been a cocktail of bad decisions, poor impulse control, and maybe the lingering effects of that concussion Sami had been trying to sell.
Cody let out a long, defeated sigh. “Can we both agree that this past week was not my finest showing of emotional maturity?” he groaned, finally giving in and resting his head against Roman’s chest.
Roman’s fingers immediately slid into Cody’s hair, massaging gently at the nape of his neck. Cody’s body reacted before his brain did, melting against him with an exhale that carried the weight of too many sleepless nights and swallowed apologies. The touch was grounding and maddeningly gentle, coaxing the stress out of his body.
“I was scared shitless, Nightmare,” Roman rumbled, his fingers not stopping their ministrations. “You had me so scared, I went running to Seth.”
Speaking of Seth.
Cody lifted his head to narrow his eyes at Roman. “Was he wearing my clothes?” Cody asked dryly.
Roman snorted. “You should have seen the appalling beach thing he showed up in the first time. I wasn’t going anywhere with him dressed like that.
Cody wanted to be angry about Seth; his entire body itched to rail about boundaries and the sanctity of personal closets, but he couldn’t quite summon the energy. Logic, for once, won the fight. Seth, against all odds, had actually been helpful.
He’d been trying to get the ring back for a week, throwing himself into half-baked plans that never quite panned out. Roman would’ve gotten it back, no question, but there’d have been collateral damage: blood, a few broken bones, possibly a lawsuit. Seth, on the other hand, had simply executed his slippery brand of skillful manipulation, talked circles around Drew, and gotten the ring back without so much as ruffling his fringe.
It was maddening and impressive in equal measure.
Roman and Seth had actually worked together, without bickering or competing. The thought alone was both terrifying and enlightening. If they ever stopped trying to one-up each other, they could probably run the damn world.
“Thank you,” Cody said finally. “For getting the ring back. And… thank Seth too.”
Roman’s lips quirked. “Oh, don’t worry. He’ll call you. When he does, you can thank him yourself.”
He said it like a warning more than a courtesy. His fingers slid down to find Cody’s left hand, eyes narrowing in question when he didn’t find the ring where it should be.
Which brought Cody to his second business of the night.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring, gesturing instead for Roman to present his own hand. When Roman simply raised a brow instead of complying, Cody went on to explain.
“I realized,” he began, “that it might have, maybe come off… materialistic, me fixating on the ring like that.” He gave a small, self-deprecating laugh. “People make fun of me for the whole ‘son of Dusty’ thing—first with the nickname, and then the title and, well, I was sort of channeling that same energy tonight.”
He lifted Roman’s hand and slipped the ring instead on Roman’s finger.
“I care about the ring, because it was a rather sweet gesture, you going out of your way to get it from my Mum for me.” Cody said quietly, his eyes finally locking with Roman’s, “But make no mistake, Ro—I love you a hell of a lot more than I’ll ever love a piece of jewelry. And I would marry you in a heartbeat, ring or not.”
The smile that broke across Roman’s face in response was almost too much to look at; bright, unguarded, and devastatingly sincere. Then his hands were on Cody’s face, rough palms cradling his jaw with reverent care as he leaned in and kissed him.
The kiss went on for too short a time in Cody’s humble opinion, considering he hadn’t so much as seen the other man in eight days. But they were currently in a deserted parking lot, so an appropriate reunion at this time was a solid no-no.
Roman pulled back with a smirk, their foreheads pressed together, lips brushing Cody’s as he spoke. “Counterpoint—you just want me to hold onto it so you don’t lose it again.”
“That’s the second reason, yeah,” Cody admitted shamelessly, grin curling at his mouth.
Roman’s laugh was low and warm as his thumb swept across Cody’s lower lip. “I love you, Cody Rhodes.”
Cody’s chest tightened at the words. “I love you too, Roman Reigns,” he murmured. Then, almost immediately added, “And I’m sorry. And Damian’s sorry. And Sami. And Jimmy and Jey—”
Roman groaned and dropped his hands, rolling his eyes so hard Cody swore he could hear them creak. He turned and jerked his head for Cody to open the car.
Cody clicked the fob, and the car chirped in acknowledgment.
“Come on, Ro.” Cody implored Roman over the roof of the car, “I’m not going to be able to enjoy this reconciliation if you don’t forgive them, too. It’s my fault they’re in this mess to begin with.”
Roman opened the passenger door with his signature infuriating smug little smile, and slid into the car. Cody mirrored him from the driver’s side, shutting his door just a second later. They settled in the silence of the car, Cody turned toward Roman, eyes wide, pleading for mercy on behalf of their entire collective of half-feral friends. Roman, of course, had no mercy to give.
“Good,” Roman said finally, tone infuriatingly casual. “Perhaps that guilt can eat at you for an undisclosed number of days.”
Cody gaped. “Roman…”
He got nothing more than a side glance for his trouble. Cody huffed, turned the ignition, and the car purred to life. He gripped the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary because, sure, he might’ve deserved a bit of guilt, but Roman didn’t need to enjoy watching it happen.
“By the way, did I tell you Seth was planning to take Drew out on a mini-date?” Roman, because he had no concept of timing or peace, said apropos of nothing. Like it were a normal sentence that anyone anywhere could simply spew and carry on with their regular day afterward.
It was not. The screech of Cody slamming on the brakes of the slowly accelerating car proved that much.
No, Roman had in fact not told him about this conveniently explosive piece of information! They had spoken a grand total of about two hours in the last seven days, and 1 hour and 58 minutes of those two hours had been devoted entirely to apologies, damage control, and smoothing ruffled feathers.
Roman caught his head from slamming against the dashboard with his hand, and shot Cody a side-eye, undercut by the smirk that was fighting for purchase on his face.
Cody blinked. How was he this composed after that? This was an immeasurable disaster waiting to happen that should have him crying, swearing, or both. Yet all Roman did was calmly reach for his seatbelt, securing it with great efficiency, protecting the very body part Cody had nearly just cracked open with his surprise reaction.
“What?” Cody finally breathed, wide-eyed and disbelieving. There was no damn way— “Roman, what?”
“Cody, drive,” Roman repeated in the same inflection.
Cody’s brain short-circuited. Drive? After that bombshell? He could barely function, let alone navigate a car through a parking lot while processing the mental image Roman had just casually dropped on him.
“You expect me to drive after that?” he blurted.
Roman didn’t even need to look at him to know that Cody’s curiosity was eating him alive. He could feel it radiating off him, see it in the death grip Cody had on the steering wheel, and the way his jaw was working overtime to keep from blurting more questions.
“Fine,” he shrugged resolutely. “I won’t tell you the rest of it until we get to the hotel.”
Cody’s shoulders straightened, his head snapping back toward the road with military precision. His hand urged the gearshift, and the car was moving again within seconds, the tires spinning like they shared his urgency.
So he was a sucker for locker room gossip. Sue him.