Chapter Text
SmackDown made Sami sick. He teamed with Jey, yes, but he also teamed with Randy and Cody.
Cody who tried to pick up the title at the same time as him. God, it made him feel sick. He felt so selfish. How could anybody call their shot against their friend, then immediately try and take the title the second they lost it?
It just wasn’t a very good night for him.
Nor for Jey, by the looks of him. They’re in their hotel room. It’s quiet. Jey’s making a coffee, in his pyjama shorts without a shirt, whereas Sami sports a sweater and some pants.
It’s domestic, but he knows something’s wrong. He feels awful, too. But he’d be damned if he didn’t put his boyfriend and one of the two most important people in his life above himself.
Sami sits beside his boyfriend and rests his head on his shoulder. “Hey. You okay?”
“Mhm, yeah,” He hums. His brain doesn’t seem all the way there. “Just thinkin’ about tomorrow. You really think I can win again?”
“Definitely. You’re incredible, I have no doubt.”
Jey groans. “Not even a little? You can’t be all for me, uce, you’ve got four guys you wanna see main event Wrestlemania.”
“True,” Sami says, tilting his head to kiss Jey’s nose lightly. “But they’re not you. They have years to go, you don’t. C’mon, you can’t be this sad leading to the Royal Rumble.”
He says that like he isn’t panicking on the inside.
“Sorry, uce. Can’t help it. It’s still stuck in my head, y’know? Roman. He thinks he’s best in the world, that the belts look better on him. And he’s right. They do,” He shakes his head. “I’m an idiot for even trying it.”
“Hey. Stop it, you aren’t an idiot. You never will be an idiot. Jey, do you even know who you are? You’re a nine time tag champion, a world champion, an intercontinental champion. Your achievements are insane. Longest reigning tag team champions in history, how do you not see it?”
Jey sighs. His fingers twitch in his lap, the coffee burning on the table. Silence stretches between them again. It’s tense. He wants to speak, to comfort him, but his boyfriend turns to face him, leaning his forehead against his quietly.
His breath is shaky. Sami feels it on his skin, they’re so close. It makes him feel even more doubtful for himself. He pushes it down.
“Sorry. ‘M sorry I’m not as good as Roman.”
“Jey. Jey, look at me,” Quickly, Sami cups his face. “You’re amazing. Who cares if you haven’t held a world championship for a thousand days? I love you, I promise you’re enough.”
Slowly, his hand finds its way into Sami’s hair, rolling the curls in his fingers. His breathing steadies, and he leans down slightly to kiss him softly. It’s domestic, it’s lovely. It’s so them.
“Thanks, uce,” Jey says, quiet. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to be such a mess.”
Sami smiles. “Jey, I’ve seen you worse. Wanna go grab a shower? I promised Becky I’d meet her tonight.”
“Gotta finish this first, but I’ll run it,” His boyfriend stands, ruffling his hair and taking a swig of his coffee. Then he pauses, grins. “Sure you don’t wanna join me?”
“Maybe tomorrow, to celebrate. Go on, you.”
Jey sighs, smiling and walking to the bathroom. Sami takes a moment to breathe, eyes shut. Rumble tomorrow. He has to win. For so many different reasons.
If he doesn’t win, Cody doesn’t get his rematch.
If he doesn’t win, Jey will be disappointed and therefore will lose momentum for the Rumble.
If he doesn’t win, Kevin will be disappointed in him.
And worst of all?
He’ll embarrass himself in front of people that love him so much. It was awful in Montréal, imagine it in Saudi? He couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t.
The door clicks, the hallway is quiet. It’s late. Midnight. Dark skies peek through the sliding door as he steps out. It’s barely cold, though. That makes him feel a little better about coming out here.
What he expects to see is a quiet pool, dimly lit but no one around. Instead, he sees Melo, sitting on the side of the pool in swimming trunks. He looks sad. Beside him sits Becky, cross legged on the side, careful to avoid any water. There’s a quiet conversation between them.
“What do I do?” Melo asks, voice tense. “He’s pissed at me. I wish I could just do somethin’, but Rey won't even let me in. God. I fucking hate Miz.”
Becky nods in understanding. “He’s a prick. I get that. Won’t make you feel any better sulking about it.”
“I know that, but what else can I do? I miss him. Wish I could talk to somebody about it who knows him. No offense to you, but you’re … you don’t know Ilja. He’s stubborn as hell.”
Sami steps forward. “That’s definitely one way to put it. But he also loves you. A lot. If you just put out your heart, he’ll listen.”
Becky tilts her head, squinting her eyes at him. He just nods slightly, kneeling next to Melo. He seems to be comforting everyone but himself today, huh?
“I tried everythin’, Sam. I bought him stupid flowers, and he didn’t even care! How does he not know I wouldn’t do that? I love fighting him. A lot. He’s my best opponent, we make magic in that ring,” He pauses to breathe, kicking the water in anger. “You don’t think I did it, do you?”
“Are you kidding? No. But this is what Miz does. He preys on emotions, preys on people angry. Ilja was angry, and he’s been brainwashed by a lie. Do you want me to talk to him?”
Melo hesitates. His fingers tighten around the air, a hiss coming through his teeth. “Yeah. Please get through to him. And Rey. He’s actin’ like a fucking guard dog when I’ve barely done anything.”
“Did you talk to Je’Von?”
“He’s been with Punk. Had some fun adventure, lucky bitch. I gotta deal with this.”
Sami sighs, pats him on the shoulder and stands up. “I’ll talk to him. Get some sleep. Please? Big day tomorrow.”
As he turns to leave, he watches Becky follow him, muttering something under her breath. Confusion fills his senses till they get inside and the door shuts.
“I’m walking you,” She states. “And we’re talking about your match tomorrow. You’re jittery.”
“I am not!”
“You are. I noticed it on the broadcast when you and Cody picked up the title at the same time. And I noticed it when you got back to the hotel with Jey. You don’t think you can win tomorrow..”
Sami sighs, keeps walking. Becky follows him. He hates how well she knows him. “Of course I think I can win tomorrow. I’ve been saying it for weeks. I can do it.”
“Sami, you’re avoiding it. Can you be honest with me? I won’t tell anyone,” Becky groans, grabbing his hand. “Not even Seth. Or Kevin and Jey. Just an us thing. Ginger Snaps. Talk to me.”
He doesn’t want to be honest. Being honest meant acknowledging the fact that he’s 90% sure there’s no chance he’ll win tomorrow. There isn’t, to be fair. His grip on her hand tightens.
“Okay. There’s a lot riding on me to win this. And everything in me wants me to win. God, I wish I could win. But I’m 12-0. Eleven, twelve, does it even matter? There’s no shot. I’m better just helping everyone else than letting it sit in my head.”
Becky tilts her head. “You don’t think you have a single chance tomorrow?”
“You wanted the truth, didn’t you? There you go, Becks, the truth. I’m going to talk to Ilja and fix this for Melo before it gets even worse,” Sami pulls away from her, walking down the hall quicker than be wanted to.
“Sami, you don’t get to walk away from me. Hey! I’m trying to help you!”
He walks even faster down the hall. “Help someone else, I’m busy —”
Slam.
It hits him right in the head. Metal, cool against his skin. Then he feels the wall. Or is it the floor? He can’t be sure. His vision blurs, spins, but he hears some form of yelling. From Becky, for sure. Who else is there?
Sami hits the floor properly this time, he feels it in his shoulder. He blinks, trying to see what happened. Who attacked him? He can’t see.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” Becky, definitely. “Can you not just leave him alone?”
“Becky, it’s not a big deal,” It sounds like Drew. Holy shit. “Why are you so pressed? I’m not getting screwed again.”
She grabs him, from what Sami can see, pulling him down to her level. “You want a fight? I’ll give you one. I don’t back down.”
“Rumble’s tomorrow. Little stupid on your part, huh?”
“I don’t care, I’ll knock you out,” Becky spits. “Wanna go?”
Footsteps approach down the stairs, and he sees Je’Von with Bayley, in the middle of a conversation before they spot the chaos on the floor.
“Ding, dong, what happened to you guys?” She grins, tilting her head.
Je’Von rushes to his side, grabbing his hand in a panic. “Hey, unc, you good? Shit, you look ouuut of it.”
“I’m okay, I’m — ow, ow, careful.”
Drew groans, pushing Becky away and turning to leave. She pulls him back, punching him square in the face with a thud. He wonders if that’ll make the Scottish man even angrier for tomorrow, worsening his chances further.
Maybe he shouldn’t jinx it.
As the man turns back, jaw ticking as he steps towards her, Sami prays that he won’t hurt her. Or that someone will step in. Not that he thinks she’s weak, no, but he wants her to win the Rumble tomorrow. That won’t happen with this.
“Yeah, Drew, kick her ass!” Bayley shouts, grinning like a madwoman. The two of them look at her with mixed reactions of disgust and annoyance. “What?”
Je’Von grimaces, pulling his arm over his shoulders to steady him. “Should we step in or —”
“Becky, don’t do this. You have the Rumble tomorrow. Step back, I can handle it,” Sami tries to step forward, but his friend pulls him back.
“Ouuu … no, we’re gonna take you to medical. With Becky! C’mon guys, let’s go. Now?”
Becky groans, mumbles something under her breath but walks away from Drew. Sami thanks Allah for it.
They make it to the medical room (which he didn’t even know they had) and Je’Von places him carefully onto a table. He smiles, before pursing his lips and pulling out his phone.
“Juust gotta text Jey ‘bout this, then we fix it up! You’ll be cleared for tomorrow Sami, promise. Shouldn’t be that bad. Hopefully. Definitely!”
He lays his head back on the pillow and sighs.
How is he going to explain this to Kevin?