(no subject)
Animation:
It's a case of Sabu going 'hello, lover, please let go of the two apes and catch me'.
-
Yay!
Can you believe I actually won something? XD No, neither can I. This is my second time winning anything, ever! So thank you if any of you voted for me, I'm glad the fic was liked. ^^ And, hee, isn't Rob just purrty? Especially with the background graphics and all.
I got this nice graphic as well. Two for one! :D
It's sparkly Rob!
Fic can be found here and is still lacking any comments whatsoever. :( I loved the votes I got, though, they were awesome. (And one made me laugh. Silly voter. XD)
This is the awesome community I participated in and will most definitely in the future. :) wrestleficathon, baby!
-
Fic:
I actually like the drabble better than I like the ficlet. : P
Title: Dial Tone.
Author: Lalaith86 (Sila)
Pairing/Characters: RVD/Sabu, with a Raven cameo.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some mild swearing.
Summary: Who are you willing to always pick up your phone for?
Author's Note: Inspired by a quote from The Devil Wears Prada. ^^
-
He should have gotten used to this over the years, Rob mused, but the whirlwind of smiling faces and enthusiastic teens still proved to be a force to reckon with. Bumbling words, awkward glances and the occasional embarrassing come-on, he took them in stride as he remained tied down to his miniscule chair and the oddly smelling sharpie he’d been handed. Sticky black coated his fingers, smearing every time he grabbed a new picture, but his fans didn’t care. They never did.
It had been a breath of fresh air, coming back from months of rest to be greeted by such warmth and genuine affection that it almost smothered him. It made him feel guilty, too, for not missing the job he’d lived for since he was eighteen. The fans should never be on par with the grueling moving to and fro he abhorred, or the backstabbing going on behind the curtains, but they had. And he hated himself for it.
Smiling brightly at a mother and son stopping in front of him, he signed one of the many pictures of himself strewn on the table. What he recognized as a forced smile, his fans saw as a sign there was fun in wrestling. He knew better. Watching as the kid prattled excitedly and his mother smiled fondly, he sighed and moved on to the next person waiting in line.
“Thinking about going back to the WWE yet?” Raven asked, sitting beside him. The two had a lot in common, as some people loved to mention, but even that made conversation difficult amongst screaming mobs and the constant requests. Rob still turned his head.
“Nah, I’m not ready yet.”
Two more autographs, big and flashy. Fame brought nothing but. Next to him Raven chuckled, a weary one filled with something resembling envy. That Rob still had the choice, perhaps.
“I don’t think you’ll ever be ready again, actually.”
Rob lowered his voice, though his demeanor didn’t change. Years in fake environments had made him a master at projecting ease and a sunny disposition. He wasn’t going to let the fear of no longer wanting this ruin these people’s day.
“How so?”
“Your eyes stopped shining the moment you left ECW and now they’ve gone out completely,” Raven muttered, his handwriting ragged as he desecrated one of his pricy cards. Rob wasn’t sure why people kept buying it from him, it was a total rip-off, but it earned his colleague a lot of money.
“You’ve been staring at my eyes? And what the fuck is all this about shining and going out? That’s weird, dude, even for you.”
Raven laughed. “I didn’t mean it that literally. Just that you don’t love it anymore. You haven’t for a long time.”
“Well, that is nothing new.”
Rob’s phone rang, vibrating wildly in his back-pocket. Some uncomfortable stretching later he had fished it out of its tight location and looked to see who it was. Convinced it was most likely not an emergency, he closed it with a snap and threw it on the table.
“You pissed at someone?” Raven asked, grinning as he putsome pictures over the phone before Rob could. Who knew what greedy hands or inquiring eyes would do.
Rob smiled. “No, I just don’t feel like cheating on all these people with whoever was on the other hand. Right…Amy?” he said, shaking a young girl’s quivering hand. She giggled momentarily, quickly taking the autographed picture he held out for her and storming off to where her friends were standing. The two wrestlers watched her go and chuckled. They would miss things like that when everyone stopped caring.
“I see your charms still drive the ladies away?” the man next to him joked, table glaringly empty already. He clearly hadn’t brought enough merchandise to deal with the hundreds of people that had shown up. Then again, the aim had been a hundred. Rob’s presence had done them good.
“Right, because all these people are just here to see your ugly mug.”
Before Raven had time to retort, Rob’s phone rang again. Pictures shifted, some floated to the floor to be picked up by helpful hands. Raven picked up the moving object right before it could carry itself off the table as well.
“Samoa Joe,” he said, turning to Rob. “Want to answer?”
Rob shook his head. “Nah. I’ll call him back after we’re done.” He grinned. “Now you just continue making money off of me, you bastard.”
Raven smiled and did just that.
-
“Didn’t you tell people you’d be at a convention? That’s the seventh one already,” Raven commented grumpily as the phone started vibrating again, hands reaching out to keep the many pictures in place. He’d taken to signing some of Rob’s pictures instead, quick wits and charming smile enough for his fans to get over the hick-up that the picture didn’t match.
They’d been signing busily for half an hour and the phone had kept them distracted quite a few times. Once it had even jumped off the table and bounced to the concrete floor. It could have easily been intercepted by someone Rob didn’t want to own his phone, but luckily his fans had hastily returned it to him and blushed under the repeated thanks. Every time, though, Rob had looked at the name flashing on the screen and disconnected. It made the fans feel a whole lot more appreciated, regardless of the hours they’d spent in line.
Rob shrugged and threw the phone back on the table again. “Can’t help it if I’m popular.”
“I think they just want to get you in the ring so they can kick your ass.”
“And yet I’d still be making twice what you make on a good day,” Rob quipped, laughing at the pained look on the other man’s face.
“Ouch, man, that hurt.”
A loud buzzing interrupted them once again and Rob let out a frustrated growl as he searched for the sting underneath a load of pictures and a filthy snotrag. He glared at Raven momentarily before checking the screen. Mid-movement, he’d wanted to close it, he paused. His eyes didn’t leave the flickering name.
Sabu.
The man didn’t call unless it was something serious. If it wasn’t, he’d wait until he saw Rob again. Which happened often enough anyway. Sabu didn’t do social calls and so Rob hadn’t closed the phone yet.
“That gets annoying, you know. You should turn it off,” Raven interjected, but Rob pretended not to hear him. Getting up, he smiled apologetically at the long line of fans and turned to duck through the curtain behind them.
“I have to take this,” he mumbled.
Raven looked up. “But… Hey, where are you going?”
Rob was long gone.
-
“Sabu?”
“Hey. Took you long enough.”
Rob smiled at the grumpy tone he’d gotten used to over the years. Sabu was nothing if not direct, but while most people found that annoying he relished in the honesty. The man was callously frank about anything, except perhaps personal things. Because whenever Rob dared stray that close to home, he was met with nothing but silence and angry glaring. Honesty didn’t serve Sabu as well as it did others.
Rob lips remained curled in a smile. He was a special kind of man, but one he wouldn’t miss for the world. “Well, I was busy,” he said. “Oh, and you have terrible timing.”
“Consider it payback for all those nights you woke me up because you thought I snored.”
“You did snore.”
“You have an over-active imagination,” came the biting retort, but Rob recognized the humour in it. He figured only he really could. Just because he listened and took the time to. Where others found themselves getting bored with the wall of nothing that surrounded Sabu when he didn’t feel like talking, Rob had learned to break through that. Sabu’s armour had its cracks and he fit right through.
“I know, but not about that. I think the entire hotel could hear, what with the chainsaw running next to me.”
“Fuck you.”
Rob laughed outright at that and suspected Sabu might be chuckling as well. He would never hear it, of course, but he could imagine. They’d already agreed he was good at that.
“So, what’s up? There’s a whole lot of people waiting for me, you know.”
“Let them wait. People showing up to get your measly autograph aren’t special anyway.”
“Bastard.” Rob grinned.
“And I’m calling because someone offered me a good pot of cash if I wrestle for them.”
That made the smile disappear from Rob’s lips. If there’s anyone he knew, then it was Sabu, and when he’d sent Rob a text saying he was injured, Rob knew it was serious. Sabu didn’t sent out meaningless information, definitely not to someone who would actually respond.
The news of Sabu injuring himself yet again hadn’t been a surprise, but dealing with it hadn’t become any easier. With Sabu’s fragile neck - hell, body in general - he always worried himself sick when the whisper of injury floated past. While he knew Sabu was always injured, if the man actually admitted to it then something was wrong.
“Who, Japan?”
“Yeah.”
“God, Sabu.”
“They want me to wrestle you.” Sabu’s tone was as serious as ever, which sent chills up Rob’s spine. The man should no longer be serious about things like this.
“Sabu,no,” Rob whispered. He knew people had been clamouring for a rekindling of their feud, the era of ECW back for just a short while, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it to return. Wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he not only tarnished their legacy of great matches, but injured the man he respected above anyone else while doing so.
“And I want it to be you.”
He swallowed at that, Sabu’s admission one that hit deep. For his friend to admit so readily that he needed something, then he was in bad shape, and Rob could already picture himself making it worse. He desperately didn’t want to.
“Sabu, I’m not interested in wrestling yet, an-“
“Then you’ll make an exception,” cut in, voice firm.
“And you’re not allowed to wrestle. You know you need surgery first, Sabu, and the doctor was very clear.”
It was almost as if Sabu hadn’t heard him, because he sounded surprisingly calm.
“Fine, I’ll just call Jerry Lynn then.”
“Sabu…”
A pause, some crackling of the phone-line as Rob heard Sabu take another deep breath. “I need the money.” A heavy pause, Rob looking guardedly over his shoulder as he could see the crowd pile up.
Sabu’s voice was hushed. “And I trust you to take care of me.”
Even amongst the hundreds and the buzzing of frantic mouths yapping on and on, Rob could hear the strain in his partner’s voice. It reminded him, once again, of why he feared going back. He didn’t want to end up like Sabu had, forever reaching for more and risking everything in the process. He didn’t want to end up having to.
Then there was that honest admission, something the other man didn’t often say. Truthful words had never really been part of their friendship, not from Sabu’s side. He’d always left Rob guessing.
“Look, I’m at that convention I told you about. Let me pull some strings and maybe they can fly you in tomorrow. We’ll sign some old pictures and make money.”
“I can’t.”
Rob sighed. “Why not?”
“I’m a wrestler.”
“You did it before.”
“Because I had to. Rob, either you say yes or I go to someone else. Choose.”
Cursing inwardly, Rob considered this. He trusted Jerry Lynn, he really did, but he trusted himself more. Not to mention Jerry might say no and that left people neither of them ever wanted to hold their lives in their hand. If anyone could take care of Sabu, he knew he’d be the one.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” he whispered, catching the relieved sigh on the other end. It shouldn’t sting so much. Perhaps this was why relationships in wrestling never lasted - one-sided or not - because there was always a point where one of them broke down and the other didn’t know how to fix it.
“I’ll send over some info for you. We leave on the twelfth,” Sabu informed him, the renewed ease in his voice enough of a thank you. Rob sighed.
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
A click and Sabu had hung up. Rob composed himself for a second, then righted his back and returned to his seat. Raven looked up at him oddly as he sat down again, phone firmly clutched in his hands.
“Sabu catch you cheating on him with these people?” Raven quipped, a dangerous smile cautioning Rob that something was up.
“What? It was the other way around, remember?”
The other man shook his head. “Oh, come on, you constantly feel like you’re cheating on Sabu, not the fans.”
“What the fuck are you on about?”
“The most important person in the world to you is the one whose calls you always take. He’s that person to you. If you’re willing to abandon almost a thousand of your fans because he is calling, then he’s the one you’re cheating on, not the other way around.”
Rob just sat there, staring. People were watching him, voices were buzzing, and he thought back about the conversation he’d just had with the man in question. Shards of what Sabu had said came back to him and realized how readily he’d walked away from so many people just because he worried something might be wrong with the one person he’d do everything for.
A grim smile touched his lips. “You know, you might just be right. And one of these days it’s going to catch up with me.”
-
All Unwritten drabble:
The best thing to wake up to, Rob admits, is the noisy snoring of Sabu on the other side of the bed. It usually keeps him awake until early in the morning - Sabu quicker to fall asleep and louder while doing so - but when he’s greeted by it, he knows the day is going to be good.
It means Sabu isn’t pacing a gutter in the carpet, or angrily rolling yet another cigarette. It means he’s not stretching uncomfortably while checking ragged wounds, or even casually scratching itching scars. It means the silence of a quiet morning isn’t disturbed by angry mutters and a rising temper, or the clenching fists of a man unhappy with the way things are going.
Instead it allows Rob to get up carefully, looking over at dark hair on white pillows and the hands lightly gripping the covers. He can sneak out to get breakfast for them, before lazy eyes open and turn harsh, and he can imagine they’re normal.
He might even, if he’s feeling really bold, slip back into bed and press his lips to roughened skin before looming over his waking partner with a smile. The grousing afterwards is always worth it.
Yes, he loves waking up to a chainsaw running next to him. Because above all, it means he can love the man quietly, without feeling guilty that he can’t do more.
-
Hope everyone is doing well, too! Let me know how every thing's going. :)
It's a case of Sabu going 'hello, lover, please let go of the two apes and catch me'.
-
Yay!
Can you believe I actually won something? XD No, neither can I. This is my second time winning anything, ever! So thank you if any of you voted for me, I'm glad the fic was liked. ^^ And, hee, isn't Rob just purrty? Especially with the background graphics and all.
I got this nice graphic as well. Two for one! :D
It's sparkly Rob!
Fic can be found here and is still lacking any comments whatsoever. :( I loved the votes I got, though, they were awesome. (And one made me laugh. Silly voter. XD)
This is the awesome community I participated in and will most definitely in the future. :) wrestleficathon, baby!
-
Fic:
I actually like the drabble better than I like the ficlet. : P
Title: Dial Tone.
Author: Lalaith86 (Sila)
Pairing/Characters: RVD/Sabu, with a Raven cameo.
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Some mild swearing.
Summary: Who are you willing to always pick up your phone for?
Author's Note: Inspired by a quote from The Devil Wears Prada. ^^
-
He should have gotten used to this over the years, Rob mused, but the whirlwind of smiling faces and enthusiastic teens still proved to be a force to reckon with. Bumbling words, awkward glances and the occasional embarrassing come-on, he took them in stride as he remained tied down to his miniscule chair and the oddly smelling sharpie he’d been handed. Sticky black coated his fingers, smearing every time he grabbed a new picture, but his fans didn’t care. They never did.
It had been a breath of fresh air, coming back from months of rest to be greeted by such warmth and genuine affection that it almost smothered him. It made him feel guilty, too, for not missing the job he’d lived for since he was eighteen. The fans should never be on par with the grueling moving to and fro he abhorred, or the backstabbing going on behind the curtains, but they had. And he hated himself for it.
Smiling brightly at a mother and son stopping in front of him, he signed one of the many pictures of himself strewn on the table. What he recognized as a forced smile, his fans saw as a sign there was fun in wrestling. He knew better. Watching as the kid prattled excitedly and his mother smiled fondly, he sighed and moved on to the next person waiting in line.
“Thinking about going back to the WWE yet?” Raven asked, sitting beside him. The two had a lot in common, as some people loved to mention, but even that made conversation difficult amongst screaming mobs and the constant requests. Rob still turned his head.
“Nah, I’m not ready yet.”
Two more autographs, big and flashy. Fame brought nothing but. Next to him Raven chuckled, a weary one filled with something resembling envy. That Rob still had the choice, perhaps.
“I don’t think you’ll ever be ready again, actually.”
Rob lowered his voice, though his demeanor didn’t change. Years in fake environments had made him a master at projecting ease and a sunny disposition. He wasn’t going to let the fear of no longer wanting this ruin these people’s day.
“How so?”
“Your eyes stopped shining the moment you left ECW and now they’ve gone out completely,” Raven muttered, his handwriting ragged as he desecrated one of his pricy cards. Rob wasn’t sure why people kept buying it from him, it was a total rip-off, but it earned his colleague a lot of money.
“You’ve been staring at my eyes? And what the fuck is all this about shining and going out? That’s weird, dude, even for you.”
Raven laughed. “I didn’t mean it that literally. Just that you don’t love it anymore. You haven’t for a long time.”
“Well, that is nothing new.”
Rob’s phone rang, vibrating wildly in his back-pocket. Some uncomfortable stretching later he had fished it out of its tight location and looked to see who it was. Convinced it was most likely not an emergency, he closed it with a snap and threw it on the table.
“You pissed at someone?” Raven asked, grinning as he putsome pictures over the phone before Rob could. Who knew what greedy hands or inquiring eyes would do.
Rob smiled. “No, I just don’t feel like cheating on all these people with whoever was on the other hand. Right…Amy?” he said, shaking a young girl’s quivering hand. She giggled momentarily, quickly taking the autographed picture he held out for her and storming off to where her friends were standing. The two wrestlers watched her go and chuckled. They would miss things like that when everyone stopped caring.
“I see your charms still drive the ladies away?” the man next to him joked, table glaringly empty already. He clearly hadn’t brought enough merchandise to deal with the hundreds of people that had shown up. Then again, the aim had been a hundred. Rob’s presence had done them good.
“Right, because all these people are just here to see your ugly mug.”
Before Raven had time to retort, Rob’s phone rang again. Pictures shifted, some floated to the floor to be picked up by helpful hands. Raven picked up the moving object right before it could carry itself off the table as well.
“Samoa Joe,” he said, turning to Rob. “Want to answer?”
Rob shook his head. “Nah. I’ll call him back after we’re done.” He grinned. “Now you just continue making money off of me, you bastard.”
Raven smiled and did just that.
-
“Didn’t you tell people you’d be at a convention? That’s the seventh one already,” Raven commented grumpily as the phone started vibrating again, hands reaching out to keep the many pictures in place. He’d taken to signing some of Rob’s pictures instead, quick wits and charming smile enough for his fans to get over the hick-up that the picture didn’t match.
They’d been signing busily for half an hour and the phone had kept them distracted quite a few times. Once it had even jumped off the table and bounced to the concrete floor. It could have easily been intercepted by someone Rob didn’t want to own his phone, but luckily his fans had hastily returned it to him and blushed under the repeated thanks. Every time, though, Rob had looked at the name flashing on the screen and disconnected. It made the fans feel a whole lot more appreciated, regardless of the hours they’d spent in line.
Rob shrugged and threw the phone back on the table again. “Can’t help it if I’m popular.”
“I think they just want to get you in the ring so they can kick your ass.”
“And yet I’d still be making twice what you make on a good day,” Rob quipped, laughing at the pained look on the other man’s face.
“Ouch, man, that hurt.”
A loud buzzing interrupted them once again and Rob let out a frustrated growl as he searched for the sting underneath a load of pictures and a filthy snotrag. He glared at Raven momentarily before checking the screen. Mid-movement, he’d wanted to close it, he paused. His eyes didn’t leave the flickering name.
Sabu.
The man didn’t call unless it was something serious. If it wasn’t, he’d wait until he saw Rob again. Which happened often enough anyway. Sabu didn’t do social calls and so Rob hadn’t closed the phone yet.
“That gets annoying, you know. You should turn it off,” Raven interjected, but Rob pretended not to hear him. Getting up, he smiled apologetically at the long line of fans and turned to duck through the curtain behind them.
“I have to take this,” he mumbled.
Raven looked up. “But… Hey, where are you going?”
Rob was long gone.
-
“Sabu?”
“Hey. Took you long enough.”
Rob smiled at the grumpy tone he’d gotten used to over the years. Sabu was nothing if not direct, but while most people found that annoying he relished in the honesty. The man was callously frank about anything, except perhaps personal things. Because whenever Rob dared stray that close to home, he was met with nothing but silence and angry glaring. Honesty didn’t serve Sabu as well as it did others.
Rob lips remained curled in a smile. He was a special kind of man, but one he wouldn’t miss for the world. “Well, I was busy,” he said. “Oh, and you have terrible timing.”
“Consider it payback for all those nights you woke me up because you thought I snored.”
“You did snore.”
“You have an over-active imagination,” came the biting retort, but Rob recognized the humour in it. He figured only he really could. Just because he listened and took the time to. Where others found themselves getting bored with the wall of nothing that surrounded Sabu when he didn’t feel like talking, Rob had learned to break through that. Sabu’s armour had its cracks and he fit right through.
“I know, but not about that. I think the entire hotel could hear, what with the chainsaw running next to me.”
“Fuck you.”
Rob laughed outright at that and suspected Sabu might be chuckling as well. He would never hear it, of course, but he could imagine. They’d already agreed he was good at that.
“So, what’s up? There’s a whole lot of people waiting for me, you know.”
“Let them wait. People showing up to get your measly autograph aren’t special anyway.”
“Bastard.” Rob grinned.
“And I’m calling because someone offered me a good pot of cash if I wrestle for them.”
That made the smile disappear from Rob’s lips. If there’s anyone he knew, then it was Sabu, and when he’d sent Rob a text saying he was injured, Rob knew it was serious. Sabu didn’t sent out meaningless information, definitely not to someone who would actually respond.
The news of Sabu injuring himself yet again hadn’t been a surprise, but dealing with it hadn’t become any easier. With Sabu’s fragile neck - hell, body in general - he always worried himself sick when the whisper of injury floated past. While he knew Sabu was always injured, if the man actually admitted to it then something was wrong.
“Who, Japan?”
“Yeah.”
“God, Sabu.”
“They want me to wrestle you.” Sabu’s tone was as serious as ever, which sent chills up Rob’s spine. The man should no longer be serious about things like this.
“Sabu,no,” Rob whispered. He knew people had been clamouring for a rekindling of their feud, the era of ECW back for just a short while, but he wasn’t sure he wanted it to return. Wasn’t sure he could live with himself if he not only tarnished their legacy of great matches, but injured the man he respected above anyone else while doing so.
“And I want it to be you.”
He swallowed at that, Sabu’s admission one that hit deep. For his friend to admit so readily that he needed something, then he was in bad shape, and Rob could already picture himself making it worse. He desperately didn’t want to.
“Sabu, I’m not interested in wrestling yet, an-“
“Then you’ll make an exception,” cut in, voice firm.
“And you’re not allowed to wrestle. You know you need surgery first, Sabu, and the doctor was very clear.”
It was almost as if Sabu hadn’t heard him, because he sounded surprisingly calm.
“Fine, I’ll just call Jerry Lynn then.”
“Sabu…”
A pause, some crackling of the phone-line as Rob heard Sabu take another deep breath. “I need the money.” A heavy pause, Rob looking guardedly over his shoulder as he could see the crowd pile up.
Sabu’s voice was hushed. “And I trust you to take care of me.”
Even amongst the hundreds and the buzzing of frantic mouths yapping on and on, Rob could hear the strain in his partner’s voice. It reminded him, once again, of why he feared going back. He didn’t want to end up like Sabu had, forever reaching for more and risking everything in the process. He didn’t want to end up having to.
Then there was that honest admission, something the other man didn’t often say. Truthful words had never really been part of their friendship, not from Sabu’s side. He’d always left Rob guessing.
“Look, I’m at that convention I told you about. Let me pull some strings and maybe they can fly you in tomorrow. We’ll sign some old pictures and make money.”
“I can’t.”
Rob sighed. “Why not?”
“I’m a wrestler.”
“You did it before.”
“Because I had to. Rob, either you say yes or I go to someone else. Choose.”
Cursing inwardly, Rob considered this. He trusted Jerry Lynn, he really did, but he trusted himself more. Not to mention Jerry might say no and that left people neither of them ever wanted to hold their lives in their hand. If anyone could take care of Sabu, he knew he’d be the one.
“Okay, I’ll do it,” he whispered, catching the relieved sigh on the other end. It shouldn’t sting so much. Perhaps this was why relationships in wrestling never lasted - one-sided or not - because there was always a point where one of them broke down and the other didn’t know how to fix it.
“I’ll send over some info for you. We leave on the twelfth,” Sabu informed him, the renewed ease in his voice enough of a thank you. Rob sighed.
“Okay. I’ll see you then.”
A click and Sabu had hung up. Rob composed himself for a second, then righted his back and returned to his seat. Raven looked up at him oddly as he sat down again, phone firmly clutched in his hands.
“Sabu catch you cheating on him with these people?” Raven quipped, a dangerous smile cautioning Rob that something was up.
“What? It was the other way around, remember?”
The other man shook his head. “Oh, come on, you constantly feel like you’re cheating on Sabu, not the fans.”
“What the fuck are you on about?”
“The most important person in the world to you is the one whose calls you always take. He’s that person to you. If you’re willing to abandon almost a thousand of your fans because he is calling, then he’s the one you’re cheating on, not the other way around.”
Rob just sat there, staring. People were watching him, voices were buzzing, and he thought back about the conversation he’d just had with the man in question. Shards of what Sabu had said came back to him and realized how readily he’d walked away from so many people just because he worried something might be wrong with the one person he’d do everything for.
A grim smile touched his lips. “You know, you might just be right. And one of these days it’s going to catch up with me.”
-
All Unwritten drabble:
The best thing to wake up to, Rob admits, is the noisy snoring of Sabu on the other side of the bed. It usually keeps him awake until early in the morning - Sabu quicker to fall asleep and louder while doing so - but when he’s greeted by it, he knows the day is going to be good.
It means Sabu isn’t pacing a gutter in the carpet, or angrily rolling yet another cigarette. It means he’s not stretching uncomfortably while checking ragged wounds, or even casually scratching itching scars. It means the silence of a quiet morning isn’t disturbed by angry mutters and a rising temper, or the clenching fists of a man unhappy with the way things are going.
Instead it allows Rob to get up carefully, looking over at dark hair on white pillows and the hands lightly gripping the covers. He can sneak out to get breakfast for them, before lazy eyes open and turn harsh, and he can imagine they’re normal.
He might even, if he’s feeling really bold, slip back into bed and press his lips to roughened skin before looming over his waking partner with a smile. The grousing afterwards is always worth it.
Yes, he loves waking up to a chainsaw running next to him. Because above all, it means he can love the man quietly, without feeling guilty that he can’t do more.
-
Hope everyone is doing well, too! Let me know how every thing's going. :)