(no subject)
Internet is still fucked up, but it does give me more time to write. : P
Title: Endings.
Author: Lalaith86 (Sila)
Rating: PG-13/R, only because Sabu has a filthy mouth.
Pairing: RVD/Sabu
Summary: Sabu is leaving ECW and wonders if this is the ending of yet another friendship.
Feedback: Please, please, please! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nothing, nada! That should about cover it.
Author’s Note: Not sure if this is a one-shot, or if I'm going to make it into a series. I have some flimsy ideas for other pieces that would relate to this, but I'm not sure if this isn't fine on its own and should just be left alone. : P Opinions?
~
He’d known today would be different the moment he’d gotten out of bed. His bags had been packed with more care than usual - simply because Rob had been talking to him the night before and he’d needed the distraction - and his one-way ticket to Tokyo was glaring at him from the table near the door. By the time he’d gotten dressed and eaten dinner, there was no escaping it, tonight would be his last match in ECW for quite a while. Probably forever.
Strangely peaceful, even though Rob had been a nervous wreck, the last minutes before their match were nothing special. He’d tried to convince his friend that today was nothing special, but Rob had still gotten the misguided idea that it had to be perfect.
'It’s what the fans will remember you by, what if I fuck it up?’ he had worried. Sabu hadn’t cared, continuing with his preparations, convinced they’d tear the house down like they always did.
And now, leaving the shower, it was over, yet nothing had changed. He wrapped a towel around his waist just as he heard the door close. There stood Rob, still out of breath and back sooner than expected. He should have milked the win more, give the crowd what they wanted, yet here he was, looking like someone had shot his dog.
“I’ll miss having you around, you know.”
Sabu snorted, quickly toweling his hair so he wouldn’t have to spend too much time with his friend. He liked Rob, he really did, but right now he couldn’t stomach the touching goodbye the guy undoubtedly had in mind. Tonight’s ending - with Rob’s sad eyes staring at him as Sabu hurried up the ramp - had been difficult enough, he didn’t need Rob wishing him well and offering to phone every night. He’d been through things like this too many times to even think that would last. There’d been people he’d been very close to who had promised that, but when push came to shove they were always more concerned with their job than they were with their anti-social friend.
“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Rob. You’re annoying as fuck when you do that,” he muttered, frustrated with himself for allowing his mind to go there. This was wrestling, and like many had said before him, there was no such thing as having both close friends and a successful career.
Pushing the wet towel in his bag, he could just hear Rob’s annoyed sigh in the background. He ignored it, focusing more on the mundane thing of pulling on socks and tying his shoelaces. It kept his mind occupied, at least.
“You don’t have to be such an ass about it. I was being serious.”
Somewhere behind him, Rob moved, the rustle of him changing out of his ring-gear familiar. If Sabu had learned anything over the years, then it was that Rob - no matter how deep the conversation or how upset he got - could multitask to perfection and would not be stopped from changing out of his soaked-through singlet. Not that Sabu blamed him, the things looked extremely uncomfortable, but there was a bit of resentment about the fact that what distracted Sabu didn’t seem to faze Rob at all.
“So was I,” he snapped, pulling a shirt over his head and hissing at the uncomfortable touch of clothing on fresh scars. Not Rob’s fault, this time, but he’d blame it on him anyway. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Rob had paused and was staring at him, hands holding the singlet he’d just entangled himself from. A sense of annoyance washed over Sabu at the look of him; Rob’s chest heaving, body sticky with sweat, yet somehow collected and understanding. Rob never failed to make him feel like he was messed up and irrational - even if he knew he wasn’t - and causing all of Sabu’s failures to creep up on him.
“What?” he asked through gritted teeth, but Rob simply shook his head. Sabu hadn’t expected him to say anything, anyway. Lately Rob had been nothing but silent about the things Sabu deemed interesting enough to ask about. Like the time he’d caught Rob adding his number to Sabu’s phone and the way their conversation - fight, Rob would say - had ended with Rob throwing the thing at Sabu’s head in a huff.
Taking great pains not to look at Rob, Sabu finished getting dressed, not even bothering to throw on his headgear - even though he usually did - wanting nothing more but the leave the dressing room. He was beyond uncomfortable, something about Rob’s body-language telling him that the guy was upset. Once again Sabu was the reason for it, prompting him to give a soft growl of annoyance and stalk to the door. A soft voice stopped him.
“Sabu?”
Sabu turned. “Now what?”
Rob, clothed in nothing more than a towel, walked over to him. An eyebrow was raised at that, but when arms enveloped him Sabu could do nothing but sigh. Rob had hugged him before, in matches, even, so it wasn’t that strange, but then those hugs had been in front of cameras and hundreds of people.
“Good luck over there.”
“Thanks,” Sabu murmured gruffly, not really sure what to say as the arms tightened and he felt the urge to hug him back. It was strange how their friendship had never been conventional, always something more. Sabu frowned. “Now let go of me, you filthy cocksucker.”
Rob chuckled, but did as ordered. Nodding with a smile, he turned, and Sabu watched as his friend jumped in the shower. Soon the water thundered down, and he quietly closed the door behind him. Taking one last look at the well-known dressing room door, he secretly hoped Rob would call. Perhaps he would, perhaps he wouldn’t, but the thought of another friendship going down the drain suddenly made Sabu feel all sorts of bitter about the business he was a part of. Or perhaps he should have been bitter about himself, the person he’d become, if even someone like Rob wasn’t worth the bother.
The door opened again, a red face peeking past. Sabu felt himself flush as he realized that Rob was, once again, wearing nothing but a towel. The bastard. He was wet, of course, a shine to his skin, and he looked like he’d taken a tumble to the floor, what with the raw patches to his knees. Sabu wondered if he’d fallen in an attempt to get to the door faster
“I forgot something,” Rob said, looking almost relieved to still see Sabu there. “Can I call you?”
Sabu looked at him, struck by the irony, but nodded slowly anyway. He wasn’t old enough to be that bitter, right?
“As long as you don’t wake me up in the middle of the night.”
A radiant smile, a familiar promise in Rob’s eyes, and Sabu wished that this time it’d be different. Eventually they’d run into each other again, and he hoped fervently that this time he wouldn’t have to regret his failed attempts at patching things up. Patching up was too difficult for him, he never managed to get it right, but he also knew that for Rob he’d give it another go.
“I’ll see you around,” he muttered, catching Rob’s nod, and hauled his bag over his shoulder, leaving to once more catch a plane. He knew he’d never be done catching planes. And somehow, alongside the pleasant memories of huge crowds and the chanting of his name, he regretted not being able to stay. Instead of building friendships, relationships, he had to watch them crumble.
Hopefully this one wouldn’t.
Title: Endings.
Author: Lalaith86 (Sila)
Rating: PG-13/R, only because Sabu has a filthy mouth.
Pairing: RVD/Sabu
Summary: Sabu is leaving ECW and wonders if this is the ending of yet another friendship.
Feedback: Please, please, please! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Nothing, nada! That should about cover it.
Author’s Note: Not sure if this is a one-shot, or if I'm going to make it into a series. I have some flimsy ideas for other pieces that would relate to this, but I'm not sure if this isn't fine on its own and should just be left alone. : P Opinions?
~
He’d known today would be different the moment he’d gotten out of bed. His bags had been packed with more care than usual - simply because Rob had been talking to him the night before and he’d needed the distraction - and his one-way ticket to Tokyo was glaring at him from the table near the door. By the time he’d gotten dressed and eaten dinner, there was no escaping it, tonight would be his last match in ECW for quite a while. Probably forever.
Strangely peaceful, even though Rob had been a nervous wreck, the last minutes before their match were nothing special. He’d tried to convince his friend that today was nothing special, but Rob had still gotten the misguided idea that it had to be perfect.
'It’s what the fans will remember you by, what if I fuck it up?’ he had worried. Sabu hadn’t cared, continuing with his preparations, convinced they’d tear the house down like they always did.
And now, leaving the shower, it was over, yet nothing had changed. He wrapped a towel around his waist just as he heard the door close. There stood Rob, still out of breath and back sooner than expected. He should have milked the win more, give the crowd what they wanted, yet here he was, looking like someone had shot his dog.
“I’ll miss having you around, you know.”
Sabu snorted, quickly toweling his hair so he wouldn’t have to spend too much time with his friend. He liked Rob, he really did, but right now he couldn’t stomach the touching goodbye the guy undoubtedly had in mind. Tonight’s ending - with Rob’s sad eyes staring at him as Sabu hurried up the ramp - had been difficult enough, he didn’t need Rob wishing him well and offering to phone every night. He’d been through things like this too many times to even think that would last. There’d been people he’d been very close to who had promised that, but when push came to shove they were always more concerned with their job than they were with their anti-social friend.
“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Rob. You’re annoying as fuck when you do that,” he muttered, frustrated with himself for allowing his mind to go there. This was wrestling, and like many had said before him, there was no such thing as having both close friends and a successful career.
Pushing the wet towel in his bag, he could just hear Rob’s annoyed sigh in the background. He ignored it, focusing more on the mundane thing of pulling on socks and tying his shoelaces. It kept his mind occupied, at least.
“You don’t have to be such an ass about it. I was being serious.”
Somewhere behind him, Rob moved, the rustle of him changing out of his ring-gear familiar. If Sabu had learned anything over the years, then it was that Rob - no matter how deep the conversation or how upset he got - could multitask to perfection and would not be stopped from changing out of his soaked-through singlet. Not that Sabu blamed him, the things looked extremely uncomfortable, but there was a bit of resentment about the fact that what distracted Sabu didn’t seem to faze Rob at all.
“So was I,” he snapped, pulling a shirt over his head and hissing at the uncomfortable touch of clothing on fresh scars. Not Rob’s fault, this time, but he’d blame it on him anyway. Looking over his shoulder, he could see Rob had paused and was staring at him, hands holding the singlet he’d just entangled himself from. A sense of annoyance washed over Sabu at the look of him; Rob’s chest heaving, body sticky with sweat, yet somehow collected and understanding. Rob never failed to make him feel like he was messed up and irrational - even if he knew he wasn’t - and causing all of Sabu’s failures to creep up on him.
“What?” he asked through gritted teeth, but Rob simply shook his head. Sabu hadn’t expected him to say anything, anyway. Lately Rob had been nothing but silent about the things Sabu deemed interesting enough to ask about. Like the time he’d caught Rob adding his number to Sabu’s phone and the way their conversation - fight, Rob would say - had ended with Rob throwing the thing at Sabu’s head in a huff.
Taking great pains not to look at Rob, Sabu finished getting dressed, not even bothering to throw on his headgear - even though he usually did - wanting nothing more but the leave the dressing room. He was beyond uncomfortable, something about Rob’s body-language telling him that the guy was upset. Once again Sabu was the reason for it, prompting him to give a soft growl of annoyance and stalk to the door. A soft voice stopped him.
“Sabu?”
Sabu turned. “Now what?”
Rob, clothed in nothing more than a towel, walked over to him. An eyebrow was raised at that, but when arms enveloped him Sabu could do nothing but sigh. Rob had hugged him before, in matches, even, so it wasn’t that strange, but then those hugs had been in front of cameras and hundreds of people.
“Good luck over there.”
“Thanks,” Sabu murmured gruffly, not really sure what to say as the arms tightened and he felt the urge to hug him back. It was strange how their friendship had never been conventional, always something more. Sabu frowned. “Now let go of me, you filthy cocksucker.”
Rob chuckled, but did as ordered. Nodding with a smile, he turned, and Sabu watched as his friend jumped in the shower. Soon the water thundered down, and he quietly closed the door behind him. Taking one last look at the well-known dressing room door, he secretly hoped Rob would call. Perhaps he would, perhaps he wouldn’t, but the thought of another friendship going down the drain suddenly made Sabu feel all sorts of bitter about the business he was a part of. Or perhaps he should have been bitter about himself, the person he’d become, if even someone like Rob wasn’t worth the bother.
The door opened again, a red face peeking past. Sabu felt himself flush as he realized that Rob was, once again, wearing nothing but a towel. The bastard. He was wet, of course, a shine to his skin, and he looked like he’d taken a tumble to the floor, what with the raw patches to his knees. Sabu wondered if he’d fallen in an attempt to get to the door faster
“I forgot something,” Rob said, looking almost relieved to still see Sabu there. “Can I call you?”
Sabu looked at him, struck by the irony, but nodded slowly anyway. He wasn’t old enough to be that bitter, right?
“As long as you don’t wake me up in the middle of the night.”
A radiant smile, a familiar promise in Rob’s eyes, and Sabu wished that this time it’d be different. Eventually they’d run into each other again, and he hoped fervently that this time he wouldn’t have to regret his failed attempts at patching things up. Patching up was too difficult for him, he never managed to get it right, but he also knew that for Rob he’d give it another go.
“I’ll see you around,” he muttered, catching Rob’s nod, and hauled his bag over his shoulder, leaving to once more catch a plane. He knew he’d never be done catching planes. And somehow, alongside the pleasant memories of huge crowds and the chanting of his name, he regretted not being able to stay. Instead of building friendships, relationships, he had to watch them crumble.
Hopefully this one wouldn’t.