Open Your Eyes part 4
Despite his and Ziggler losing that match, Del Rio moves past it quickly, hoping that it means that he nor Ricardo will have to endure either his or his manager's obnoxious ways ever again, but all peace is lost quickly that Monday when AJ Lee requests Alberto, Ricardo, and Otunga into her office. Neither had seen much of the lawyer since the loss of the court case and Alberto is equally curious and worried about what the off-balanced General Manager could possibly want with them. He'd learned his lesson with her a long time ago, the fact that she'd expressly asked for Ricardo to be there too eating at him as the three of them walk into her office together.
It's worse than he'd feared as the girl stares at them in her unsettling way before placing them- all of them- in a six man match against Sheamus, Rey Mysterio and Sin Cara. Alberto's throat goes dry as wild thoughts circle around in his mind, Otunga joining him in vocally protesting. "But he's not a trained competitor!"
Alberto notices the subtle sound of movement behind him but before he could turn to check on Ricardo, the ring announcer, without his neck brace, interrupts them, insisting that he'll be fine, he wants to compete alongside them. AJ, not caring either way, restates that the match will go on as planned before leaving.
Still in disbelief that this all has happened so fast, and that Ricardo seems pleased with the prospect, Alberto and Otunga face him, shocked. He continues to look happy, even exclaims "ARRIBA!" as he rushes out of the room to get ready. Alberto has to laugh, despite continuing to be confused and worried, but the younger man's joy is infectious, Del Rio unable to remember the last time he'd seen him like that, if ever. He wonders if it's just an act, Ricardo seeing that AJ wouldn't let them out of this match and trying to be brave for his employer. The thought is both horrible and warming all at once.
Either way, he turns to an equally as stupefied looking Otunga as soon as they're alone, needing to assure that the lawyer will be watching out for Ricardo as well. "Listen to me, Otunga. None of us were expecting this match... and, as much as I would prefer winning it, no matter what, our prime objective has to be to keep Ricardo away from Sheamus. I will not allow him to be injured yet again by that rujo perro. Understand?" When Otunga nods, he feels minisculely better.
So when he and Otunga arrive at the gorilla position, Ricardo stretching and doing random prematch things. Alberto joins him with a half-smile on his face, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Amigo."
Immediately standing straight, Ricardo blinks up at him, looking calmer now that the time is nearly at hand. "Si, El Patron?"
He hesitates, not wanting to hurt the ring announcer's feelings, but needing to ask. "Are you sure about this, Ricardo? I, I mean... you are just barely recovered from a neck injury and this is Sheamus we're talking about. Do you really feel up to facing him right now?"
Ricardo blinks a few times, then sighs, staring at his hands. "I, I'm nervous, si, of course, but... it's an honor to wrestle alongside you, El Patron." He swallows, hands twisting around anxiously as his face reddens under Alberto's searching gaze. "And I-I know that you'll do all you can to keep me safe tonight, that's... that's enough for me."
Still amazed by the man's unwavering blind faith in him despite everything, Alberto shakes his head. "Oh, Ricardo," he whispers, closing his eyes. When he looks again, the ring announcer is staring at him with such a pained, wistful look that it almost kills him. I can't keep doing this, he thinks. To him, or to myself. He's just opened his mouth, trying to determine how best to word what he's been feeling for awhile, when Otunga appears behind Ricardo, oblivious to the moment he's interrupting.
"It's time," is all he says, immediately returning to the gorilla.
Alberto could kill him.
The match goes well- for awhile, anyway. Mysterio and Sin Cara are nothing, and Ricardo tags out as needed, the bulk of the match spent with him in the ring. It only all goes badly when Otunga is in there. And Sheamus gets tagged in. Del Rio isn't sure what's wrong with the lawyer, but the idiota spins around and tags in... Ricardo, quickly rolling out of the ring while the frightened man freezes on the turnbuckle, gaping on in horror at who he will now have to face.
Alberto, as stupefied at what has just happened, drops off of the apron and screams at the lawyer, demanding what he was thinking- if he was thinking, ignoring his one command so disrespectfully. He rants and raves until he hears flesh on flesh and spins around, finding Ricardo pinned against the ring ropes, his shirt torn open and Sheamus in the process of clubbing him with his forearms. He tries to help, but Sheamus knocks him away, finishing his repetitive move before tagging Rey in, who hits Ricardo with the 619 while Alberto is still fighting to recollect himself. He does so and grips Rey from the apron, trying to give Ricardo time to recover, but Rey resists and slings him back out of the ring where he lands roughly against the barricade wall, slumping there where he lays, breathless and dizzy, forced to watch and listen as the match concludes with Ricardo losing to Sin Cara.
He sinks back against the barricade wall when he sees the ring announcer flop out of the ring away from the three men celebrating inside, trying to regain the energy to move and check on him but he doesn't get the chance as Ricardo crawls over to him a few moments later and rests a hand on his ankle, time seeming to stop as Alberto opens his eyes wearily and looks at him. "Are you alright?" they ask at the same time, Alberto chuckling breathlessly as Ricardo blinks. "I'm fine," the Mexican aristocrat mumbles. "Are you? Your neck..."
"Oh. Si. I'm fine, it's fine." He shifts, finally able to move enough to sit next to his employer against the barricade wall.
"No thanks to that perro, Otunga," Del Rio says viciously, the two of them exchanging glances before Ricardo looks down uncertainly. He quickly looks back up, however, as there's a commotion in the ring and they're both looking on as Sheamus hits the off-balanced lawyer with another Brogue Kick, Del Rio actually happy to see the move for once. Feeling more steady now, Alberto forces himself back onto his feet, holding a hand out to Ricardo. "Come, mi amigo. Let's get out of here."
"But," he mumbles. "Otunga..."
"...has proven he can take of himself quite well." Beyond over the topic of the lawyer, Alberto stands patiently, a hand extended until Ricardo finally reaches out, their fingers interlacing as he helps him regain his balance as well. "Alright?"
"Si, gracias, El Patron." Alberto smiles at his best friend, squeezing his arm before leading him back up the ramp.
The trainer takes his time with them both, Alberto insisting that Ricardo get examined thoroughly due to his neck, and Ricardo insisting that Alberto gets checked for a head injury due to his awkward landing against the barricade, recollecting Del Rio's past with concussions. Both men are cleared, concussions and neck trauma quickly ruled out to their equal relief. But they're not completely done, as the trainer examines Ricardo's chest and shakes his head, finding it covered in raw welts from Sheamus' attack.
Alberto pales, his anger burning bright once more as he realizes that Otunga's thoughtlessness had caused Ricardo more pain. "Why didn't you say anything, Ricardo?"
The ring announcer winces as the trainer smoothes cool cream across his flesh, covering the worst of the wounds in gauze. "I... I don't know, El Patron, I was just... worried about you and didn't realize..."
Realizing that, as always, he was taking his anger out on Ricardo needlessly, he relaxes and pats the younger man's face. "Lo siento, I'm not mad at you. I'm just worried about you. It is Otunga I'm mad at most right now."
"Otunga?" he repeats, shaking his head. "Why?"
Alberto says nothing, his lips thinning as, sure enough, the lawyer himself is dragged into the trainer's office by a couple of well-meaning referees to get checked out after the Brogue Kick. Ricardo gapes as Del Rio pulls away from him and marches up to the barely conscious man, gripping his jaw and ignoring the referees as they try to talk him down, glaring deep into his eyes. "I gave you one order tonight, idiota. You blatantly ignored me, disrespected my wishes and ruined everything." Releasing him roughly, he wipes his hands off on a nearby towel briskly as if having any bit of Otunga on him disgusted him. "I was willing to forgive a fair amount, even you being absolutely no help against Sheamus in and out of court, but this... I cannot. You're fired."
Finished, he holds a hand out towards Ricardo, who anxiously walks over to him and keeps his eyes away from Otunga as his employer wraps an arm around him and leaves the trainer's office as if nothing had happened. Alberto had decided, instead of returning to Florida, they should travel straight on to Buffalo, New York, where Smackdown is to be held that Friday, and have a few days just to relax without worrying about flights and everything else. Now he's relieved for this decision, sure that Ricardo is in as much need of a break from traveling as he is, if not more.
"El Patron, should we stop for coffee before we drive to Buffalo?" the ring announcer asks, his eyes drifting over as they approach a Tim Horton's. "Then, if you wanted, I would be awake enough to drive for awhile, and... keep you company..." He says this hesitantly, as if unsure that Alberto would want either of those things, Del Rio flinching in the darkness.
"Of course, amigo, if you want," he says smoothly as he signals to turn into the parking lot of the shop. As soon as they enter the establishment, he watches as Ricardo's eyes brighten at finding a crane game nearby. His lips twitch up into a fond smile before nudging Ricardo, nodding at the machine when the ring announcer looks over at him. "Go, win something. I'll place our orders."
"Re-really?" Alberto nods and Ricardo brightens. "Gracias, El Patron."
The older man smiles and approaches the counter, listening to the machine's sound track as Ricardo feeds money into it and works the crane, trying to win the stuffed animals stuck within. He's just received their drinks and food when Ricardo returns, an Angry Bird toy in one hand. "Just in time, amigo," he tells him with a small smile, handing over his food and drink after Ricardo stuffs the toy into his pocket so he can juggle it all easier. "Had some luck with that machine, I see."
"Si, some, but I couldn't get the second Angry Bird toy that's in there... it's fine though, I'm happy with this one."
Alberto nods as they settle in at the table, his gaze falling on the machine nonetheless. Midway through the meal, he wipes his hands with a napkin before standing. "I'll be back in a moment, Ricardo." The bathrooms are near the crane game so the ring announcer doesn't question it when his employer heads that way, his back to that part of the building. Alberto holds his breath, examining the machine. How hard can it be? he wonders, putting a couple of dollars in and working the crane as quickly as he can, not wanting Ricardo to start to look for him. The game is harder than it looks, however, and he goes too fast the first couple of tries, failing spectacularly as the crane seems to slip teasingly over the Angry Bird toy just so.
Taking a few deep breaths, Del Rio places more money inside and, determined not to fail Ricardo at this, tries again. On his second try, he succeeds, the toy clutched and dragged over to the chute, where it's unceremoniously dumped inside and lands in Alberto's impatiently waiting hand. "Well, hello there," he mumbles.
Returning to the table, he smiles half-heartedly at Ricardo before returning to his meal. He's just unfolded his napkin, shaking it out, when the Angry Bird toy "flies" out of his fist and lands right in front of Ricardo, as he'd hoped it would. It doesn't register with the ring announcer for a long moment but finally he blinks and looks up at his employer. "Where, where did this come from?"
His smile growing, Del Rio shrugs. "I... thought perhaps your Angry Birds toy would be lonely if we left this one here. Now he has a friend."
"You... won it for me?" Ricardo asks softly, poking the second Angry Birds toy with a careful finger. "El Patron, you didn't have to..."
"Yes, I did, Ricardo," he says quietly, staring at his ring announcer. "More importantly, I wanted to." His heart twisting at the awed look on Ricardo's face, he claps his hands after a moment, knowing they both need a warm bed and hours of sleep more than some emotional reveal right now. "Are you ready to go, mi amigo? Buffalo is still hours away."
"Oh, si, of course." The ride is exhausting, the roads dark and cold, but Ricardo and his own scattered thoughts keep Alberto awake until they're safely at the hotel, both agreeing that the beds inside their room are the most comfortable looking thing either man's seen in awhile.
Ricardo is fussing over their bags, as he always does when they're done with traveling for awhile, when Alberto approaches him and rests a hand on his shoulder, holding something small and white out to him. He looks up, blinking for a moment before it registers with him- they're what remains of his pain pills from when his neck pain was at its worse. "Oh, El Patron, I don't-"
Alberto doesn't allow him to talk his way out of this, or even attempt to. "Ricardo, you're going to be sore from the match tonight. Please, just take these and go get some sleep, si? The bags aren't going anywhere, mi amigo." Their eyes lock and he nods subtly, reaching out for the pills. Fingers grazing, it takes all in Alberto to allow him to slip away once more, not just grip his hand and never let him go again, but he knows they both need rest, so instead he watches as the ring announcer finds some water and downs the pill, immediately dropping down into bed.
"Gracias, El Patron. Buenos Noches," he murmurs, squirming under the sheets and almost immediately falling asleep.
Alberto smiles and wanders around the room, shaking the sheets out over him so they cover him fully. "Buenos Noches," he says quietly, locating Ricardo's cell phone by his iPad on the bedside table. It takes some work to find the settings and figure out how to change them, but finally he locates his alarm clock and shuts it off. "You need the rest," he tells him. "And I'll make sure you get it, mi amigo."
Putting the phone back down and staring at Ricardo, he notes with that old familiar sinking feeling that the ring announcer still doesn't look happy even in sleep, but... He sighs, shaking his head. "I'll fix it, Ricardo. Somehow, I promise. I will."
He feels too jittery to lay down, everything from the past couple of days weighing on him, but he doesn't want to disrupt Ricardo's sleep with the TV. An answer comes, however, when his eyes once more falls upon the iPad laying next to his phone and he tilts his head. Last time, he'd found nothing good, that article only increasing his confusion until Ricardo had convinced him that he had no inclination to do what it had suggested.
He decides that nothing of the sort will happen now, his feelings finally straightened out, and he reaches out for the tablet, tapping the power button. When it lights up, he realizes things he hadn't the last time- like Ricardo's wallpaper is of them, after his Rumble win, he thinks. When they were actually happy and successful, and... He shakes his head, sighing wistfully, and runs his finger along the glass, unlocking it. Immediately the mobile web browser loads and he smiles, unsurprised when Twitter loads again. He'd originally thought the site had been yet another waste of time for losers obsessed with all things social media, but maybe he'd judged it too rashly, as he had many things over the years.
Either way, he allows it to load, expecting Ricardo's timeline to be the page he'd left the mobile browser on the last time he'd used it, but instead it brings up something else- Ricardo's twitter profile page. He freezes and stares over the screen at his ring announcer, odd thoughts filling his mind. An opportunity to read what he'd been saying during this whole mess, try to gauge his mindset. It feels a little like an intrusion, yes, but the tweets are out there for the public to read, so... He grimaces, shaking his head.
In the end, curiosity wins out and he finds himself scrolling through the various things that the ring announcer has said recently. Nothing too personal or risky, obviously being careful so as not to cause the company to give Del Rio any further grief, and the Mexican aristocrat smiles slightly as he scrolls down through all of the little comments that Ricardo makes day by day. But the tone of the tweets change the further back he goes, as he gets closer to the time that the Brogue Kick happened and it hurts to see just how badly off the ring announcer was emotionally. He wonders how much of it was because of him...
But out of everything he notices, it's the short, one to two worded tweets that catch his eye the most, the ones that seem the most morose. He even recognizes one of the dates, the Friday from before the Brogue Kick, when he'd so flippantly talked about his and Ricardo's allegiance ending, like none of it mattered. He swallows and closes his eyes, the guilt from recollecting that interview welling up within him anew. He'd almost forgotten it, so focused on helping Ricardo recover in the aftermath, that it'd last hit him when he'd read the article, long hours spent while Ricardo slept through the haze of painkillers, pondering his adverse reaction to that meaningless article despite saying something so similar only days prior. He sees things so much clearer now.
He shakes his head, turning the iPad off and laying it down on the table once more before looking at Ricardo with a sad smile. "You don't have to wait any longer, Ricardo."
The room is filled with shadows and soft shuffling sounds when Ricardo's eyes hesitantly open, the young man breathing gingerly as his still raw-feeling chest protests every little movement. He's not sure what time it is or where his employer's at, but he's too muddled and sore to even want to know. That is until the bathroom door clicks open and Alberto softly shuffles into the room, stopping when their eyes lock. "Oh, amigo," he whispers. "You're awake."
Ricardo hums faintly, finally accepting that that's his cue to get up, but before he can even sit up, Del Rio's there with a hand on his shoulder, holding him in place. "Wha-... El Patron?" He shakes his head, so confused. I know I didn't hear my alarm clock... what time is it?
"Just relax, amigo. I want to check your bandages-"
Ricardo blinks a few times, his vision finally clearing enough for him to spot a clock across the room. "It's after 10... 10 AM?!" he chokes out, voice going highpitched. "N- no... I have things to do," he frets, struggling once more to sit up, get moving, but Alberto hasn't removed his hand, and the ring announcer grows frustrated. "El Patron, I planned on getting breakfast and going over your upcoming media schedules, I-"
"That can wait," he says quietly. "You needed your sleep, especially after last night, so I shut your alarm clock off." When Ricardo's jaw clicks shut, his protests dying away, Alberto smiles. "As I was saying, I want to check your bandages. Si?"
Ricardo flushes slightly upon realizing that in his other hand, he's holding onto fresh gauze and a tube of the cream that the trainer had given them the night before just for that purpose. "Oh, uh, El Patron, I can do it, it's-"
"Ricardo," he says softly, peering into the younger man's eyes. "Por favor, permítame..." The resistance slowly eases out of the ring announcer as he sinks back against the pillows, watching Alberto with a pained expression while the Mexican aristocrat eases his shirt off to look his injuries over. "Si," he whispers somberly. "These will need changed, mi amigo." He peels the old bandages off carefully, desperate not to add to Ricardo's pain anymore than necessary, trying to remember just how the trainer had done all of this the night before. "As soon as we finish here," he says quietly, trying to distract them both, "we can go get some brunch, if you would like, amigo. Or I can get something and bring it back, or order in... whichever you feel most comfortable with."
Ricardo blinks in surprise at this, shaking his head. "Whichever you would prefer, El Patron, is fine with me..."
Alberto smiles wanly at the expected, sad response, and finishes smoothing new cream over the wounds along his flesh, immediately covering them with fresh gauze. Taping it down goes easier than he expects and then he looks up at his ring announcer. "There you go, amigo. All done. It wasn't too bad, was it?"
"No," Ricardo whispers. "It wasn't bad at all." There's such a distant, wistful look in his eye that it hurts Alberto to stare at him too long. "May I get up now? I... I need to change clothes, especially if we're going to get food soon."
"Of course, amigo." Alberto watches with a small, pained smile as his ring announcer stands and digs through his bag, finding a new shirt to put on. His resolve from the night before not wavering even a little, he clears his throat. It's time. No more waiting... "Eh, Ricardo, do you mind doing something for me?"
Looking up in surprise, the ring announcer blinks. "Of course, El Patron. What do you need?"
"Do you remember what you said to me that night... after Smackdown?" He knows without looking that of course Ricardo remembers, the words spoken that night hanging over them both in various ways like a smothering blanket, affecting their actions and reactions. He glances up at the ring announcer's face, taking in just how broken he suddenly looks, so uncertain and pained, and it takes all that Del Rio has inside of him to not rush forward and comfort him right here and now. No, he thinks. I can't do that just yet. It may seem cruel, making him relive this, but... I want to fix things starting with that night...
"Si," he whispers miserably.
Nodding sharply, Alberto takes a breath and turns his back to him, adjusting his shirt's sleeves. "Would you mind... repeating it?" There's a stuttery gasp behind him as Ricardo absorbs his words, and the Mexican aristocrat closes his eyes, knowing that he has a long road ahead of him to make all of this right, ease at least some of the emotional and physical agony he's put the poor ring announcer through the past few months, much less the turmoil of the last couple of years. "Por favor?"
Ricardo remains frozen behind him, eyes wide and wet as he stares at the back of his employer's head, remembering just how horribly that night weeks ago had gone. Curling his toes against the hotel carpet, he can't forget that moment and how it'd unfolded- barefooted and feeling disgraced, horrified and shaky just like right now... Why Alberto would request this of him, he can't figure, unless the loss of the match the night before had been the last straw after all- if his foolish admission on top of the injuries on top of the many title opportunities lost had finally just annoyed Del Rio to the point of finally cutting the younger man loose.
Alberto's lips thin as more time passes, the silence in the room deafening. Perhaps I have finally just asked too much of him, he thinks. Perhaps I have waited too long. Perhaps this is what I deserve. Considering how I've treated him, I wouldn't blame him if his feelings have... faded. He takes a breath, shaking his head slightly. If, after all of this, I end up the one with unrequited feelings... He's about to turn around, stop forcing Ricardo to be stuck in the moment that he so thoroughly messed up to begin with, and begin working at repairing their friendship before even considering how to earn back the affection he'd so cruelly thrown back into the ring announcer's face, when...
"I- I'm in love with you," the words come out of nowhere, broken and shaky, but there. Sure and true.
Alberto is so sure that he's hearing things that he inadvertently repeats his very sentence from that night, word for unfortunate word. "What did you say?"
"I'm in love with you." Instead of better, the words come out sounding worse, and Alberto's heart breaks further when he turns around and finds his poor ring announcer shaking and tense, as if waiting for a similar response to the last time, or something even worse. The tears pooling in Ricardo's eyes slowly slip down his face as Del Rio, unable to stand by and watch him suffer any further, walks towards him. "Don't fire me, por favor, El Patron," he chokes out, certain that that's the way this will resolve- either by a beatdown or his termination.
Alberto can't find any words as he stands before Ricardo and stares down at him, slowly reaching out to touch his face, carefully cupping his jaw. "Oh, Ricardo." Leaning closer, he tries to catch his eye and fails as the ring announcer looks anywhere but at him. The wet trail of tears dripping down his face and washing across Del Rio's fingers now, he finds that for the first time ever possibly, he utterly hates himself for everything he'd done to the man before him. Desperate to take that look off of his face, the Mexican aristocrat presses forward and kisses him gently, remembering... The trainer's office, the moment in the car, all of it, leading to this moment. I have been so foolish, he thinks grimly, stroking his face until Ricardo gulps, frozen against him as he holds on. Alberto isn't surprised at the unresponsive ring announcer, knowing that he's probably confused and still hurting. He pulls away and stares down at the dazed, uncomprehending expression on Ricardo's face. He wants to see his eyes for this, aware that it's so wrong- so backwards- so... less than what the ring announcer deserves, but he has to say it now, needs it to be known. "I'm in love with you too."
The change is horrible and immediate as the already off-balanced younger man shakes his head violently, tearing himself away from Del Rio and stumbling backwards, almost tripping over the bed but catching himself and feeling his way past it, moving quickly until he hits the wall and freezes, having nowhere else to go as Alberto watches him, his eyes dark and sad. "No," he murmurs. "You... you can't. How can you? It... it's only been a few weeks since I said that to you, and you couldn't get away from me fast enough. No one's feelings change that quickly." He's cracking even further, tears trailing faster across his trembling lips, and the older man honestly can't take it anymore. He approaches him, almost hesitant to make it worse but incapable of watching his breakdown from a distance any further without at least trying to sooth him.
"I was blind," Alberto whispers, slowly walking up to him, only keeping enough distance between them that Ricardo can slip past him if he wants, but close enough that he can feel Ricardo's breath on his face. "My eyes were opened when you took the Brogue Kick for me. I know it shouldn't have taken that to wake me up, I should've seen what was before me the whole time, but... I've been on a journey since that horrible night, when, for what felt like hours, you wouldn't open your eyes... wouldn't move. I was afraid that... something I couldn't fix or control had happened, but then you opened your eyes and reached out for me and things began to click slowly into place. Last night, when Otunga tagged you in against Sheamus despite my warning him over and over again I didn't want you anywhere near that Irish perro, I was drowning in fear and anger. After the match was over and you were mostly alright, I knew... I couldn't wait any longer. I had to tell you. It has perhaps taken me too long, but I... I want to make this right, Ricardo. I want... I want to correct the grievous error I made that night." Ricardo is still silent, his eyes far away, and Alberto's heart sinks again. "I know I have failed you in so many different ways. Letting you get hurt so many different times, hurting you myself in so many ways, the court case falling through, everything else. I don't blame you if it's just... too little, too late." He's about to move aside, allow the ring announcer to do as he wishes, when he realizes that Ricardo's fingers are tangled in the folds of his shirt, holding him in place.
He looks up and finally their eyes lock. Underneath the pain and tears, there's a soft gleam of understanding that's just so Ricardo that it takes Alberto's breath away and he couldn't move aside even if he wanted to. "Ricardo," he breathes out, so many long-withheld emotions in that one word that it floors both of them, Del Rio finally bridging the gap between them and kissing the younger man more insistently this time, his fingers tangling in his dark hair. This time he kisses back, hesitant at first, almost fearful, but the longer Alberto lingers, the more the ring announcer seems to relax into it, giving in to what he'd been hoping for for so long.
When he finally pulls away, needing to look Ricardo in the eye again, Alberto sighs, gingerly brushing the few remaining tears off of his face. Ricardo blinks up at him a time or two before releasing a shaky breath, touching his lips in something close to disbelief. "You... fired Otunga because of me?"
"Si, of course I did. Despite my repeated warnings, he selfishly put you in harm's way to protect himself. He deserved much worse than the Brogue he received." Alberto smiles mirthlessly. "I suppose the loss of my billable hours will have to do for now." Despite still looking vulnerable and shaky, Ricardo chuckles faintly and it warms Alberto slightly to see his lips upturned into a true, however small, smile for the first time in he's not sure how long. Leaning his forehead against the ring announcer's so they're eye to eye, he sighs softly and once more cups his face. "I love you, Ricardo."
"I love you too, El Patron," Ricardo whispers back, the words now sounding clearer, if not completely confident. Alberto doesn't mind though, he knows he has a lot to do to repair everything he's done, but he hopes that finally admitting his feelings to the poor man will help ease some of his suffering, make the journey a bit easier for them both.
He smiles affectionately and, cupping Ricardo's face once more, kisses his lips before pulling him closer until his head is resting against Alberto's shoulder, easing his fraught nerves with quiet whispers and soft touches. He knows how much work he'll have to put into making things right for Ricardo, earning his trust in what they have, but even so, he's never felt happier than this moment. As he glances down at the ring announcer's face, his eyes closed as he leans against his employer with a small smile on his lips, he vows to himself that he'll do everything in his power to ensure that Ricardo will always feel like that as well.
A/N2: The final scene there was dated September 18th. Six months later to the day was this week's Raw. I had to piece this together five hours after watching it and realizing the date. Thanks a lot, WWE.