Post by Dean Harper on Mar 15, 2022 4:33:45 GMT
The camera comes on to a dark room with flickering candle light.
“I know what one of the first questions on your mind will be. Why? About fifteen thousand flavors of Why.”
“There are obvious reasons. The pedestrian whys. Why do I want to win the roulette? Why do I think I deserve to win the roulette?”
“You know why. But fine, let’s explain it all like you’re a child. Because I want to beat the shit out of my little brother on the biggest stage of them all. I want to beat Sabin on the biggest stage in the goddamn world. He got lucky. He beat me once, I beat him once. We had a tag match but I don’t count that as a win one way or the other. I want another shot at the upjumped little shit.”
“Why do I want to kick his ass? Because I can. Because I want to. Because I’d like the glory of being a three time world champion. Because I haven’t won the roulette before and I figure, fuck it, why not? It’s the last big thing on the list to cross off, isn’t it?”
Dean smiles.
“And that will make some people angry. Not a little angry. No, No, more than angry. Livid. Beyond regular rage into a whole new realm of anger. The kind that burns down houses. The kind that liquefies. The kind that burns from the inside out. I get it. I get that level of anger. I get it. I appreciate it. I approve of it.”
“Because I want it all. I want to achieve everything that can be achieved in this company. I’ve won Joker in The Pack. I’ve won Heir to The Throne. I want the roulette win.”
Dean rolls his eyes.
“And I hear you. But Dean has already done so much in this company. Isn’t it time Dean let other people do cool stuff sometimes? Isn’t it about time Dean stepped aside? He is already a hall of famer. He doesn’t need this heat like I need that heat.”
“Sorry, snuggle-cake, but I had to fight tooth and nail to get where I am. And why should I rob all of you of the same pleasure of fighting with the best to get to the top? Then you can feel like you earned it.”
Dean laughs.
“But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? You like to think that everything comes easy. You like to believe you are the only one ever to struggle to get anywhere. I got lucky. Everyone before you who got to the big time got lucky. I’m not going to deny I’ve had some good times in my life. I’ve had a sweetness you would not believe.”
“But to get a bit of that sweetness I had to get beaten half to death. Had to sell my soul and from time to time. But it’s all fine and dandy. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.
But you can hope to get past me. Hope to get your hands on the end and get the shiny contract with Night of the Immortals match written and guaranteed. But let me warn you, Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope makes a man insane with want. With a thirst that can’t ever be quenched.”
Dean winks as the feed ends.
Dean waited until Warren’s ready to go to bed. He’d tucked Damien and Edward into bed. Angel and Tara were out, maybe at Tara’s place, maybe still out enjoy their date night. But it was quiet and nice. They had plenty of alone time when they needed it. But it was stressful. Dean knew it was. Warren was planning the perfect wedding for himself and as much as Dean tried to help it didn’t seem to do much good.
Not to mention all the time he’d been putting in at the gym. He was working out more then before. Wedding planning, gym, smoothies, mile run, lifting weights. He was exhausted most of the time. Dean kept up when he needed to, he liked working out together but Warren was like a man possessed by the idea.
Dean wanted to win too. He just liked eating real food.
Warren had chosen to lay face-down, and while Dean was not sure that it would best position, it made his life a lot easier. Dean reached out a hand and gently rubbed his fiance’s lower back. "Where does it hurt?" Dean asked, taking care to not cause him any additional pain.
"Lower," he grumbles into his pillow. Dean knew he’d found the right spot with a grunt of affirmative.
Carefully, Dean raised up on his knees and straddled his thighs before he began kneading Warren’s back. It started slowly and gently at first, wanting to ease into it.
"What're you doing?" Warren asked, sounding almost surprised as he tried to look over his shoulder at Dean. “Not complaining…”
Dean shushed him and worked knuckles a little more firmly. "I'm just trying to help," Dean told him honestly. "Let me know if it hurts, okay?"
Warren sighed contentedly and Dean felt him relax into the bed. Taking it as a good sign, and for a while, they're both silent. He alternated using most of his weight to knead Warren’s skin and the tight muscles beneath it and using just thumbs. Every so often, Dean slid his hands down to Warren's sides or up toward his upper back.
After nearly a half hour of this, Dean realized Warren had fallen asleep, actually calmed down enough to just sleep. Dean smiled to himself and gradually ease up until he stopped messaging Warren altogether. Dean swung his leg back over his lover and laid down beside him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
"I love you," murmured before pulling the cover over both of them and letting his eyes fall shut, knowing full well that even if Warren didn’t say it, he felt it.
“I know what one of the first questions on your mind will be. Why? About fifteen thousand flavors of Why.”
“There are obvious reasons. The pedestrian whys. Why do I want to win the roulette? Why do I think I deserve to win the roulette?”
“You know why. But fine, let’s explain it all like you’re a child. Because I want to beat the shit out of my little brother on the biggest stage of them all. I want to beat Sabin on the biggest stage in the goddamn world. He got lucky. He beat me once, I beat him once. We had a tag match but I don’t count that as a win one way or the other. I want another shot at the upjumped little shit.”
“Why do I want to kick his ass? Because I can. Because I want to. Because I’d like the glory of being a three time world champion. Because I haven’t won the roulette before and I figure, fuck it, why not? It’s the last big thing on the list to cross off, isn’t it?”
Dean smiles.
“And that will make some people angry. Not a little angry. No, No, more than angry. Livid. Beyond regular rage into a whole new realm of anger. The kind that burns down houses. The kind that liquefies. The kind that burns from the inside out. I get it. I get that level of anger. I get it. I appreciate it. I approve of it.”
“Because I want it all. I want to achieve everything that can be achieved in this company. I’ve won Joker in The Pack. I’ve won Heir to The Throne. I want the roulette win.”
Dean rolls his eyes.
“And I hear you. But Dean has already done so much in this company. Isn’t it time Dean let other people do cool stuff sometimes? Isn’t it about time Dean stepped aside? He is already a hall of famer. He doesn’t need this heat like I need that heat.”
“Sorry, snuggle-cake, but I had to fight tooth and nail to get where I am. And why should I rob all of you of the same pleasure of fighting with the best to get to the top? Then you can feel like you earned it.”
Dean laughs.
“But you wouldn’t understand that, would you? You like to think that everything comes easy. You like to believe you are the only one ever to struggle to get anywhere. I got lucky. Everyone before you who got to the big time got lucky. I’m not going to deny I’ve had some good times in my life. I’ve had a sweetness you would not believe.”
“But to get a bit of that sweetness I had to get beaten half to death. Had to sell my soul and from time to time. But it’s all fine and dandy. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty.
But you can hope to get past me. Hope to get your hands on the end and get the shiny contract with Night of the Immortals match written and guaranteed. But let me warn you, Hope is a dangerous thing. Hope makes a man insane with want. With a thirst that can’t ever be quenched.”
Dean winks as the feed ends.
Dean waited until Warren’s ready to go to bed. He’d tucked Damien and Edward into bed. Angel and Tara were out, maybe at Tara’s place, maybe still out enjoy their date night. But it was quiet and nice. They had plenty of alone time when they needed it. But it was stressful. Dean knew it was. Warren was planning the perfect wedding for himself and as much as Dean tried to help it didn’t seem to do much good.
Not to mention all the time he’d been putting in at the gym. He was working out more then before. Wedding planning, gym, smoothies, mile run, lifting weights. He was exhausted most of the time. Dean kept up when he needed to, he liked working out together but Warren was like a man possessed by the idea.
Dean wanted to win too. He just liked eating real food.
Warren had chosen to lay face-down, and while Dean was not sure that it would best position, it made his life a lot easier. Dean reached out a hand and gently rubbed his fiance’s lower back. "Where does it hurt?" Dean asked, taking care to not cause him any additional pain.
"Lower," he grumbles into his pillow. Dean knew he’d found the right spot with a grunt of affirmative.
Carefully, Dean raised up on his knees and straddled his thighs before he began kneading Warren’s back. It started slowly and gently at first, wanting to ease into it.
"What're you doing?" Warren asked, sounding almost surprised as he tried to look over his shoulder at Dean. “Not complaining…”
Dean shushed him and worked knuckles a little more firmly. "I'm just trying to help," Dean told him honestly. "Let me know if it hurts, okay?"
Warren sighed contentedly and Dean felt him relax into the bed. Taking it as a good sign, and for a while, they're both silent. He alternated using most of his weight to knead Warren’s skin and the tight muscles beneath it and using just thumbs. Every so often, Dean slid his hands down to Warren's sides or up toward his upper back.
After nearly a half hour of this, Dean realized Warren had fallen asleep, actually calmed down enough to just sleep. Dean smiled to himself and gradually ease up until he stopped messaging Warren altogether. Dean swung his leg back over his lover and laid down beside him and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.
"I love you," murmured before pulling the cover over both of them and letting his eyes fall shut, knowing full well that even if Warren didn’t say it, he felt it.
Well howdy there pardner.