Through The Weekend
Chapter Ten
Warning: This one gets a little smutty. Reader discretion is advised.
The obnoxiously bright fluorescent lights of the hospital waiting room irritated Shiloh’s eyes, and his spirit. He cursed himself for not remembering to bring his shades before he and Roman Uber’d to the hospital. He’d remembered everything else: their phones, their chargers, their wallets, a change of clothes in case they had to stay overnight. The only thing he wanted more than to have Reigns seen to by a doctor was something to shield his eyes from those lights.
Roman takes his free hand and covers Loh’s eyes. “You looked like you needed this,” he says playfully. He shifts his other hand around the impromptu ice bag that Shiloh had prepared for him back at the hotel. He’d tended to him tirelessly in the wake of the slumber party brawl and Reigns felt it was time to return the favor.
“I did. Thank you,” Shiloh says with a smile. The big mitt blocked out any trace of light, much to his relief. “But stop—you’re the one who’s hurt.”
“Being hurt means I can’t give you a hand?” He can feel Loh’s face smiling again under his hand, making him grin. “Oh, you like my ‘corny old-man jokes’ now, huh?”
“No, I’m humoring you. Duh. Don’t frown too hard or you might start bleeding again.”
“I think you stopped the bleeding already, Florence Nightingale.”
“Who the fuck is Florence Nightingale?”
Roman chuckles. “Weren’t you on the honor roll ‘n shit in high school? How do you not know who Florence Nightingale is?”
“Was she in The Supremes? I think I saw her ‘Unsung’ once.”
“Oh my god…” Roman starts to laugh again but winces when he feels shooting pain in his head wound.
“See?” Shiloh removes Roman’s hand from his face and sits up straight in his seat, forcing Reigns to unwrap his arms from his shoulders. “You just…sit still until you can see a doctor.”
“It’s just the cold from the ice. Stop getting all anxious, kitten.”
“Shhh…just relax.”
“I’m relaxed—YOU relax.”
Loh lowers his voice to a whisper. “I’ll relax when you stop calling me ‘kitten’ in front of people…” he glances around the room at the other injured occupants and their valets. “…and when you chill out.”
“This dripping bag of ice on my head says I’m fucking freezing—I’m chill.” Roman takes the bag off his head and drops it in Shiloh’s lap.
“You’re lucky I put on sweats before we left. If you did that while I was still wearing those Versace shorts, I’d bust you open myself.”
Roman snickers, always amused by Loh’s moxy. “You looked like you wanted to bust open more than that in your lil’ outfit. Those are ‘Fuck me’ pajamas. Your daddy know you wear those?” He couldn’t help himself—he loved to make Shiloh sweat. At this point, the flirtation was naked. Their reunion had made his big, manly heart flutter, watching Loh rip into his biggest detractor had turned him on, and the way they’d double-teamed Finn Balor—and getting to knock his lights out—had his hormones racing. He figured the only reason he didn’t have to hide an erection right now was because he’d lost blood.
“Stop…” Shiloh’s voice trails off, his half hearted protest not worth the breath it would take to make it. If they weren’t around all these strange eyes, he would’ve grabbed ‘The Big Dog’s’ handsome face and planted a kiss on his big lips. Truth be told, he’d wanted to kiss him all night: when he showed up at the party; when they were alone on the balcony; especially when he stood up for him against Balor, saving him from what clearly would’ve a brutal beating. (He wasn’t afraid of anyone—except maybe Dean Ambrose—but that didn’t mean he wanted his pretty, money-making face bashed in by his cousin’s boyfriend.) That night, Roman had been his Stanley Kowalski, his Don Juan, and his Superman. It was hard enough to resist one of those archetypes, but all three at once?
“REIGNS. REIGNS,” a nurse’s stern sounding voice pulls them both out of their haze.
“UM…HERE,” Shiloh stands up and raises his hand. “Don’t get up too fast, okay?” he instructs Roman lovingly, rubbing the side of one of his massive bare arms. “Let me help you.”
“Loh…I’m not dying. You don’t need to be my caregiver.” Reigns groans at bit when he gets up but gets on his own volition. “See? I’m fine.” He wasn’t fine: he was dizzy and beginning to feel nauseous from the loss of blood. But he wasn’t about to let Shiloh know that. The boy had worried enough.
“‘Caregiver’? Are you paying me?” Loh asks rhetorically, wrapping his arm around Roman’s back for support.
“In inches,” Roman says under his breath.
“What itches?”
“Nothing, kitten.”
“What is your relation to Mr. Reigns, sir?” the nurse asks Shiloh sternly.
Roman looks at her with his eyebrow raised. “Does that matter, miss?”
The nurse demurs slightly but doesn’t back down. “Yes, it matters. We need to know who you’re bringing back here with you.”
Loh acquiesces. “I’m his—“
“He’s my partner,” Roman answers before he can finish.
“Spouse?”
“Not officially,” Reigns says.
‘NOT OFFICIALLY?! WHAT THE FUCK DOES THAT MEAN?!’ Shiloh thinks to himself, his heart beginning to beat a little bit faster. Had Balor truly knocked Roman silly a few hours ago?
“Alright,” the nurse continues. “But if the doctor asks you to leave, you have to leave. You can wait for him here.”
Shiloh nods in agreement but Reigns pulls him closer and whispers in his ear “You’re not going anywhere.” He might lose consciousness at any moment, but Roman could still make his partner feel like he was the one about to pass out. That was a power the older man was beginning to relish.
The nurse waves them in. “Let’s go boys.” She leads them down a long white corridor bathed in a much softer white light than what Shiloh had suffered through in the waiting room. There’s nary a soul to be seen save for the occasional nurse or orderly. When he hears the large door to the waiting room close behind them, Roman moves his hand down Loh’s back to the crest of his ass. Somewhat to his surprise, he doesn’t make any motion to move or remove it. As they follow the nurse around a corner, he cranes his neck downward and smacks a kiss on his forehead. Their temporary anonymity had Reigns feeling free—and bold.
Shiloh can’t stop himself from smiling at the onslaught of affection being dealt to him. In his heart of hearts, this was what he’d wanted for the better part of their friendship, whether he’d wanted to admit it or not. There’d just always been something in the way: professionalism, the paparazzi…a marriage. That last obstacle was the toughest hurdle to jump from a moral standpoint. As unreligious as he considered himself he’d been raised a Catholic and Catholic boys didn’t break up marriages. But if the older, handsome, confident, rich, and occasionally vicious man currently fingering the band of his expensive underwear was determined to break his vows, who was Shiloh Campbell to stop him? Besides, Roman was also a Catholic, so they could burn in Hell together.
“Please have a seat on the examination table, Mister Reigns,” the nurse instructs. Roman snaps the band on Shiloh’s underwear then releases him from his randy grip. He sits on the table as he’s told but places his hand between his thighs in an effort to mask his growing erection. “You, um—“ the nurse turns her attention to Shiloh then is reminded that she doesn’t know his name.
“—Loh.”
“Loh. You can have a seat in the rolling chair next to Mister Reigns.”
“OK,” Loh answers simply. But Mister Reigns has other ideas, turning his head subtly from side to side with a devilish smirk on his face.
“The doctor will see you soon.” With that, the nurse turns and leaves, pulling the door shut behind her.
Shiloh turns his head and waist at an angle to make sure the door is closed. Whatever Roman had in mind, they didn’t need anyone peeking in on them. But like a hungry bear snatching up its next meal, Roman, still seated, reaches out and grabs Shiloh by his clothes and pulls him between his legs. Reigns locks him in place with his powerful thighs, as if Loh wanted to be anywhere else in the world. When he fully submits and wraps his arms pitifully around his shoulders, Roman shoves both his hands under Loh’s T-shirt and hoodie, massaging the skin underneath. Shiloh gasps and closes his eyes in pleasure. “Look at me…” Reigns growls. “Look at me, baby.” He does as he’s commanded and the desire swirling in his eyes makes him rock hard. Loh can feel the erection running the length of Roman thigh and burning a hole in his hip. “I bled for you tonight, and I’d do it a thousand more times. All I need you to do…” he reaches down the back of Loh’s underwear and grabs two handfuls of his disproportionately large ass, drawing a moan from Shiloh. “…is come for me.”
Unable to hold himself back any longer, Loh finally plants a passionate, open mouthed kiss on Reigns, who returns the gesture in kind. “Not here…” he gasps when they finally pull their faces apart. “Not here. Not like this.”
“When?” Roman demands as the door handle clicks and strange voices sound on the other side of the door. “When?”
Shiloh pries himself free and breathes “Paris.”
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