You know the drill, right? Roman Reigns, Dean Ambrose, Seth Rollins do not belong to me. (Sad, I know, because I'd share.) they are the property of the WWE and/or the actors/sports entertainers that play them. This is for entertainment only. No one paid me to write it, no one will have to pay anyone to read it.

Author's Notes: This story takes place sometime in the first few months Shield was in the WWE. I figure the boys are close, but still are at the point where they don't know just about everything about each other.

Yes, I am still working on After The Rains and I'm trying to work on the sequel to Chasing the Moonlight. This was just a tangent story, something written on a whim for a friend of mine.

Boundaries

"You know I'm not gay, right?"

Roman looked across the table where his Shield partner, and brother by choice, Dean Ambrose was sitting. They were at a bar, but not one of the usual, flashier nightclubs they liked to go to, this was a small place, but it was still open and it was fairly quiet. Normally, they liked the rowdier, party places, but it had been a tough night for both of them, and they were more interested in relaxing than they were in partying and getting in trouble. Or, at least that's what Roman thought, but Dean was acting a little weird tonight. He'd been staring at him since they sat down. First out of the corner of his eye, now not even being subtle about it, staring at him openly. And now this. "Yeah," Roman finally said. "You've had enough conquests, all female, since I've met you, I sort-of concluded you weren't gay. Why?"

"Well," Dean swirled his glass around, the ice cubes and dark amber liquid spinning lazily inside. "I don't want you to take this wrong, but you are a really good looking guy."

"Why would I take that wrong?" Roman asked, picking up his own glass and taking a sip of his drink. "I mean, it's not like this is the first time you've mentioned it. I seem to recall you were ragging on me in the back of the arena tonight. What was it you said?" He paused pretending to think, "Oh yeah, 'Ladies, hold on to your panties, here comes Roman Reigns.'" The solemn expression on the muscular man's face clearly showed he was not nearly as amused with this comment as the rest of the divas and wrestlers had been.

Dean lowered his face quickly, so Roman wouldn't see the smirk on it. "Yeah, but that was just teasing you because, well, that's my job." When he was sure he could look serious, he raised his head to look at Roman. "But seriously, the more I work with you, the more I look at you, the more I realize you are a really, really good looking guy."

Roman took another sip and put the glass back on the table. "Are you getting somewhere with this?" he asked, staring at him.

"No," Dean said, quickly. "I just want you to know, I think you're really good looking. I mean, Seth is good looking, a lot of the guys in the WWE are good looking, but you top them all. You are one sexy motherfucker."

Roman looked around the bar again, nothing had changed since his last look around, but it beat looking at Dean, because the look in Dean's eyes was making him just a little bit uncomfortable, like Dean was...well, for lack of a better word, hungry. He'd seen that look on his face before, but usually it was when some good looking woman walked by, not when he looked at him.

If Dean sensed his discomfort, he made no indication. "You have really nice hair," Dean said. "Seriously, I know girls who would die for hair like yours. It's so shiny and silky and when the light hits it, it just has this sheen to it. Every time I see it, I want to run my fingers through it." He reached over as if to do exactly what he said. Roman jerked back in his chair quickly. "Sorry!" Dean raised his hands to show he got the message.

"Ambrose, don't touch my hair," Roman growled, taking a bigger sip of his drink. "I get enough of that from the fans, I don't need it from you, too."

"I'm sorry, big guy," Dean said, looking almost contrite. A few seconds passed and he smiled. "It's cool, I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable or anything, I just...well, I was noticing tonight when I saw you climbing over the barrier that, uh, you have a fine ass. Seriously fine. Oh, sure, some folks might say it's a little big, but it fits you. It's not flabby, it's a tight ass. You could bounce a quarter off that ass. I guess I never realized it before, but wow, that's an ass someone could really grab on to." He growled under his breath, a low growl, but Roman still heard it and stared at Dean, but said nothing, because he had no clue what to say. This didn't bother Dean at all, because he cheerfully continued. "It's almost a shame you are a guy, because with that hair and that ass, man, I'd love to be behind you, grabbing onto that hair and pounding into-"

"-Dean, that's enough!" Roman's voice raised in volume. He wasn't shouting, unless he was in the ring doing one of his warrior yells, Roman was a pretty soft spoken guy, but there was an edge to it, as if warning Dean that if he wasn't careful, yelling might be forthcoming.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Dean asked, head tipped to one side, staring at Roman intently. "I don't mean to make you uncomfortable, I just want you to know... that I think you're fine. Very fine. Your fiance is a lucky woman. I envy her."

"Dean." Roman lifted his glass and drained the contents before continuing. "Are you trying to tell me you're bi? Are we having a moment here, I wasn't aware of?"

"No," Dean said, shaking his head quickly. "I'm not bi either. I'm straight. Completely straight."

"Okay then," Roman nodded, "Because, if you were bi, that's cool. I don't mind, it's just not my thing, you know?" He pulled his hair back and with quick, practiced motions, wrapped an elastic he'd been wearing around his wrist so he was now sporting a ponytail.

"Never?" Dean asked, looking surprised. "Never ever ever? Seriously, bro, you've never done anything with a guy? Even in college? Not even one night when you were drunk off your fine looking ass?"

Roman started to shake his head quickly, then paused. "Well, when I was a kid-" he stopped abruptly. "Never mind."

"No, this sounds interesting!" Dean disagreed, grinning at his friend. "So, you were a kid, and...?"

Roman shook his head. "It was nothing. I was young this guy and I were friends..." his voice trailed off. He didn't even know why he had mentioned it, but Dean's going on and on had made him feel as if there was something tragically wrong with him because he hadn't experimented in that particular arena.

"Go on," Dean encouraged. "We're brothers by choice, remember? You can tell me anything!"

"There's nothing to tell!" Roman protested. "Seriously, it was really stupid, just kid stuff." He shrugged, trying to brush it off, because truth be told, it wasn't much. He was surprised he even remembered it.

"Really?" Dean frowned as if thinking. "I have no idea if it was or not, because you're not telling me anything."

"Because it's not important," Roman said. Uncomfortable with this entire conversation, he raised his glass to his lips again, and knocked one of the ice cubes in his mouth. He started crunching on it.

"You guys blew each other, didn't you?" Dean said, with an almost coy smile playing across his lips. "C'mon, you can tell me."

"No!" Roman's voice carried through the small bar, causing the few patrons to look up and over at them. Most of them were older folks, ranging from their mid '30s to '60s, clearly more interested in drinking than anything else. While Roman and Dean had gotten a few looks from them, when they realized that the two men were here to do their own drinking and unwinding, things had calmed down. Now though, they stared. "No," Roman repeated, softer this time. "We did not blow each other."

"Oh then, just some touch me and I'll touch you?" Dean smiled at Roman, his eyes glittering in the dim light, encouraging him to open up and share.

"No!" Roman said, his face turning red. "Ambrose, I'm telling you, it was nothing, forget I brought it up."

"Okay," Dean said, cheerfully."Let me go get another round, okay? Don't worry, it's on me." He winked at his friend, rising to his feet. As he walked around the table to head to the bar, he quickly

wrapped his arm around Roman's shoulders and dropped a kiss on the top of his head. It was something he had done before, particularly after a hard match where they had won, and normally Roman didn't give it a second thought, but tonight, he stiffened visibly.

"What?" Dean had felt him stiffen and now looked at him, an expression of innocence on his face. "C'mon, I just wanted to feel that fine, soft hair of your on my lips."

"Cut it out," Roman growled. Fortunately, the rest of the bars patrons had stopped staring at them, but Roman still felt really uncomfortable, as if the eyes of the world were on him.

Dean smiled and headed to the bar. Despite that the bar catered to an older clientele, the bartender was female, much younger than the patrons, and extremely good looking. On a normal night, Dean would have been chatting her up, but not tonight. He placed his order with her and while she was making the drinks, he kept looking over at Roman and smiling. Yeah, he thought. This is too easy and too much fun. He paid the bartender, left her a good tip and walked back to the table with the drinks. He put Roman's down in front of him. "Don't worry, big guy, I didn't put any roofies in it."

Roman looked at the drink for a moment, his eyes wide, then at Dean. "Is it safe for me to drink this?"

"I said I didn't spike it!" Dean protested. "Aw, what is wrong with you, tonight, Roman? You're usually a lot more fun than this."

"You're usually not like this," Roman pointed out.

"Like what?" Dean's eyes were wide and innocent.

"Like you are tonight!" Roman said, a slight tone of bewilderment in his voice. "Not so - personal about stuff."

"I'm always interested in you, Roman," Dean said, and for a moment Roman would have sworn he fluttered his lashes, but maybe it was just a tick. "I love to know what's going on in that big, sexy head of yours."

Roman took a healthy swallow of the drink Dean had brought him, and almost choked. "Is there anything but rum in this?"

Dean shrugged. "I asked them to make it extra strong for you, Ro. It's pretty obvious to me, you need to seriously loosen up. You seem so tense tonight."

Roman drew in a deep breath "I am fine, Dean," he almost growled. "I'm just wondering why you're being so...forward tonight. Because it almost feels to me that you're hitting on me."

"No!" Dean's eyes widened and he shook his head rapidly. "Roman, I'm straight, I told you that. I'm not bi, or gay!"

"Okay then," Roman took a small sip of his drink. It really was mostly rum.

"But if I were gay," Dean continued. "Or bi, I'd want you. I'd want you badly. Because, you really are magnificent. You are the sexy beast."

"Dean-" Roman glared at him.

"You're the total package. Seriously, anyone, male or female would be proud to add you to their list of conquests."

"Dean, stop it!" Roman ordered. He was used to Dean making off hand remarks about his looks, but this was different tonight. A lot different. "Just cut it out, it's not funny anymore. It never was funny."

"Roman, are you homophobic?" Dean asked, all wide eyed and innocent.

"No!" Roman objected. "What people are into is their own business, not mine. I think that if two adults respect each other and love each other, or at least like each other, what they do in private is not my concern, that being said-"

Dean interrupted, "I respect you, Roman, and I love you." he paused before adding, "like a brother."

Roman's eyes were as narrowed as Dean's were wide. "As I was saying," he said, almost biting off the words, "I am straight, and you are like a brother to me, so this whole conversation is creeping me out." He raised his glass to his lips to take another sip, a bigger one this time. He was actually getting used to this drink being rum and only the fumes of coke. "It just isn't my thing."

"What about your friend?" Dean reminded him. "Not so straight with him, were you." Again was that tick, or Dean was fluttering his lashes.

"That was nothing!" Roman said, bringing the glass back to the table a little harder than necessary. "I don't know why I even mentioned it."

"But you did," Dean leaned forward, elbows on the small table, resting his head on the backs of his hands. "Maybe you're ready to..." Dean paused and ran the tip of one finger around the edge of his glass in a slow, lazy, circle before continuing, "come out?"

"Dean!"

"With the story," Dean said quickly, "The story! Come out with what happened."

Roman shook his head. "Again, it was nothing. We were young, you know, just at that age, you know, eleven or twelve, maybe even ten."

"Oh, two young boys," Dean said with a waggle of his eyebrows.

"Dean, I'm about ready to strangle you," Roman warned.

"I'm sorry." Dean looked almost contrite. "I was just trying to set up the scene in my head, it's important. So, anyway, the two of you were young, carefree, innocent. At that age where you were just starting to get those urges. Go on."

"Oh god," Roman groaned, wondering if he would ever regret anything as much as he regretted starting Dean on this road of thinking. "Again, it was nothing. We just sort of...showed each other. No touching."

"Showed each other?" Dean tipped his head to one side. "Was it late at night? Were you alone in one of your bedrooms? Maybe some soft music playing in the background? A Barry White CD one of you caged from your parents?"

"No, it was nothing like that!" Roman said, defensively, "It was just... curiosity. You know how it is, you start talking about stuff and you...wonder."

"What were you wondering about?" Dean was still staring at him, still with his chin resting on his hands.

Roman looked pained at this entire conversation, but knew his friend enough to know that the only way to get through it was to just say it. "One of us was circumcised one of us wasn't." Roman finally said. "You know how it is, you wonder about whichever you're not. I mean, you have locker rooms and stuff, but at that age, you spend your entire time making sure you never, ever, ever look at another guy's junk."

Dean's eyes lit up like a child given an unexpected present. "Which were you, the cut or the uncut?"

"None of your damned business," Roman snapped.

"Testy, aren't we?" Dean grinned. "Maybe I'll find out...later. Maybe you'll find out about me, too."

"Dean, this is it," Roman's voice was so low, yet was still clear. "I am not joking here. I've had enough. Cut it out, right now, or I'm going to beat the crap out of you."

"All right, all right," Dean burst out laughing and leaned back in his seat, looking back to his old self. "Wow, you were really looking uptight there, Roman."

Roman breathed a huge sigh of relief. "You are such an asshole!" he sputtered, "You had me going."

"Yeah, I did," Dean looked pleased with himself. "You're too easy to mess with sometimes."

"Yeah, very funny," Roman shook his head, annoyed that his friend had gotten under his skin, but just glad this joking was over, and it was just a case of Dean being, well, Dean. "Seriously, wouldn't care if you were bi or gay. But, you know, there are some things that make people uncomfortable, there are boundaries."

"Boundaries?" Dean looked confused. "Jesus, Roman, I'm not gay, I'm not bisexual!"

"I know that!" Roman said.

"-But if I were," Dean said, almost before Roman finished speaking, "I'd be all over you. Seriously, like frosting on a wedding cake, I'd cover you. Or, if we wanted to use wrestling terms, I'd want to pin you, over and over and over again."

"That's it," Roman stood up, feeling a bit wobbly from the booze, not drunk, but not exactly sober, either. "I'm done here, I'm going back to the hotel."

Dean calmly finished his drink and stood up, "That's a good idea. We both have busy days tomorrow, we should get some sleep."

Roman stared at him. "No funny stuff, okay? I've had enough of that. You've had your joke, ha-ha, very funny, you've made your point. It's time to drop it."

"Gesh, Roman, stop it. I was just having fun with you. Why do you take things so seriously?" Dean shook his head. "You're going to worry that beautiful head of hair of yours into gray if you don't learn to lighten up." Before Roman could say another word, he turned and started heading out the door.

Roman shook his head, watching is friend walk off. "Unbelievable," he mumbled, then started walking after him.

Because the motel they were staying at was just down the street, Roman and Dean had decided to walk instead of drive and now that they were heading back, Roman was glad of that. The night was cold, the air crisp, and Roman figured it would help chase away some of the "not quite sober" fog that was dancing around in his brain. Dean was being so weird tonight, Roman wanted to have a clear head until they were both safely

Dean walked along next to him, the two of them fairly quiet. It wasn't until they were almost to the motel when Dean said, "We're sharing a bed, Ro," then he laughed. "My lucky night."

Roman rolled his eyes and shook his head. The three of them often shared hotel and motel rooms, it was a great way to save money and all they really used the rooms for was sleeping, it seemed pointless to have three separate rooms for that. Usually they would get a room with two beds and request a cot. But sometimes, like tonight, their was no cot available. In that case, two of them would have to share a bed. The last time it had happened, Roman and Seth had shared the same bed. This time, it was supposed to be Dean and Roman, the next time it would be Seth and Dean. "That's right, I forgot about that. Is that why you were doing this? Bust on me, get me all nervous because we're sharing a bed?" It made sense, it would be the sort-of joke Dean would insist on making.

Dean laughed again. They were right at the entrance to the motel. "Maybe. Then again, maybe not." Before Roman could say anything, he walked in the door and headed for the stairs that lead to their room.

Roman followed, shaking his head again. That was the problem with Dean, while most of the time, you knew if he was joking, some times it was hard to figure it out and tonight was one of the worst. If Roman didn't know any better, and maybe he truly didn't, he'd swear Dean was using humor to cover up his real feelings. And if that was the case, Roman wished he'd just come out and say it, get it out into the open. This step forward, step back was irritating. If Dean was bisexual, it would be better to just have him admit it and they could deal with it. Even if Dean admitted he was crushing on Roman, it wouldn't freak him out, Dean wouldn't be the first friend, male or female to confess to that. And Roman had always been cool about it, letting them talk it out to him, and then he'd let them down easy. "Hey, we're friends and all, but that's all it's ever going to be, you're not my type." Not to mention he had a fiance who he loved and was faithful to, and a daughter that he was determined would grow up with two parents who loved each other, But Dean wasn't playing by the rules, Dean was making remarks and when confronted, would run to the security of, "But I'm not," and that was a game Roman hadn't played before, or at least not this persistently.

When they got to the room, Seth was sound asleep, a book next to him, the dim light from one of the bedside lamps glowing softly. Roman picked up the book and marked it with the bookmark and placed it on the nightstand.

"Brr," Dean commented, rubbing his hands up the sides of his arms. "You can tell Seth set the temperature."

"Yeah," Roman agreed. For reasons neither he nor Dean understood, Seth liked it cold when he slept. Really cold. Roman didn't mind it being cool enough that sheets and a blanket were a necessity, but Seth liked it to the point where when you woke up, your face was numb from the cold. Dean preferred the room to be warm enough that just a sheet would do. "He's asleep, so let's turn it up a few degrees, he won't notice."

As Dean adjusted the thermostat, Roman yawned and sat on the bed. The night's activities and the booze were making him sleepy. He couldn't wait to just lay down and fall asleep. He started pulling off his shoes.

Dean came back over to the bed and sat down next to him. "It's still pretty chilly in here and it will be for awhile."

"I know," Roman agreed. "But we'll warm up."

"We could cuddle, you know," Dean said, his voice barely a whisper as he looked at Roman, his eyes wide. "Nothing serious, just a little cuddling, just to keep warm?"

Roman might have exploded and yelled, but he didn't want to wake Seth. "That does it," he muttered, making every effort to keep his voice low, but menacing. "Dean, you can sleep in the sheets, I'm sleeping on top of the covers."

"But you'll be freezing!" Dean protested still in that soft, silvery whisper. "Roman, really, you have to learn when I'm teasing you."

"I'm sleeping on top of the bed," Roman insisted with a growl. He rose from the bed and grabbed a pair of sweat pants and a sweat shirt from his luggage and went into the bathroom to change.

When he came out, about twenty minutes later, Dean was already in bed, covers around him, eyes closed. Roman walked over as carefully as he could, trying not to make a noise. Dean's breathing was even. A wave of relief went through him and as gently as possible, he laid down on the queen sized bed, as far away from Dean as he could without falling on the floor. Fortunately, he could reach the bedside light Seth had left on and he turned it off.

Just as he was about to drift off to sleep, he felt Dean stirring next to him. He kept his eyes shut, not wanting Dean to know he wasn't asleep. His friend slid out of the bed and padded off to the bathroom. Roman shut his eyes again, feeling himself drift off to sleep, his back to the side of the bed Ambrose was using.

He woke up a few minutes later, as Dean got on the bed. Not in the bed, but on the bed. He scooted right up to Roman, and wrapped his arm around him, snuggling up next to him. back to belly, that age old spoon position. Roman froze as Dean leaned over and licked his neck. "I'm not gay or bi," he whispered, his warm breath ticking the inside of Roman's ear. "But for you, I might consider it."

It was 6:00 in the morning when Seth woke up and stumbled into the bathroom, half of his mind still in bed sleeping. He went to the sink and splashed cold water on his face, looking in the mirror. Behind him was the bathtub and shower and as he looked, he frowned.

Even though he had to pee, he decided he could wait a few minutes more and left the bathroom room. He went over to the bed he hadn't slept in. "Dean," he shook his friend. "Dean, wake up!"

Dean opened one eye. "I don' wanna go to school, Mom," he mumbled. "I'm sick." He closed the open eye.

"Dean, wake up," Seth insisted, shaking him a little harder.

Both of Dean's eyes opened and he looked at Seth. "What?"

"Suppose you tell me why Roman is sleeping in the bathtub?" Seth asked.

Even though he was still most of the way asleep, Dean offered up a sleepy grin. "Because I told him I wasn't gay or bi," he said, and rolled over, closing both of his eyes.

"Huh?" Seth's voice raised in puzzlement. "Why did you tell him that? And why would that make him sleep in the bathroom? "

Dean sighed and rolled onto his back again. "I told him I'm not gay or bi," he repeated, then elaborated. "And then I said but for him, I might consider it."

Seth stared at Dean, still puzzled, then everything began to click into place and his look of puzzlement turned to one of irritation. "You just wanted the bed to yourself, didn't you?"

The look of smug satisfaction on Dean's face, gave Seth his answer, but Dean still nodded to confirm it. "I didn't want to share the bed," He explained, grinning. "I like to stretch out."

"Wonderful," Seth rolled his eyes, even though a part of him, a small part, but a part never-the-less, could see the humor in it. He must have been laying it on pretty thick for Roman to hide out in the bathtub. He didn't even want to sleep in the same room as Dean. Out loud he said, "that was a dick move, Ambrose." He straightened out and sighed. "I want to hit the gym early, I have some stuff I have to do in the afternoon. I'll go wake him up. He can use my bed for a few hours, I won't need it for now." He walked over to his luggage and grabbed a the clothes he wanted to put on and other things he would need, planning to change in the bathroom, once Roman was out of the bathtub.

He looked over at Dean again, amazed that his friend had gone right back to sleep. Only Ambrose, he thought. "You'd better not pull this shit again," he muttered, even though he was positive Dean was asleep. "Because the next time we can't get a cot, it's our turn to share a bed." His things gathered he turned and headed to the bathroom.

Dean's eyes opened. He had been drifting off, but Seth's mumbling woke him up again and he knew he had to get started fixing this situation right away. "Hey, Seth!" he called to his fellow wrestler's back, "Anyone every tell you, you're really cute? Especially from behind?"

Seth paused, but didn't turn around. "Cut the crap, Ambrose!" he called out.

Dean ignored the request. "I'm not gay or nothing," he declared loudly. "But if I was..."

The End

Author's Notes: This story is a gift for Betagirl, who understands exactly why I wrote this.

Okay, before you go getting upset with me, don't read too much into this. This is not my way to dig at slash. There is some slash m/m fics on this site that I've found really good. This is not my way to be sneakily homophobic. If you knew me in real life, you'd know that is ridiculous.

This is a story of two guys who are friends. And one of them is being a dick. That's it. If you read anything else into it, that's you, not me.

Now, if you still want to blast me, by all means, go ahead. Since this is a one shot, if you want to hear my response, you'll have to log in for that so I can respond to your in box. And you should know I don't take anon flames very seriously. If you really believed what you were saying, you wouldn't be afraid to leave a way for me to contact you. Anon flames are the fanfiction equivalent of trolling, just not as amusing.

If you got it, found it funny, and/or just want to encourage me, please let me know too. I'm standing here with this sign around my neck that reads, "Will write for feedback."

And again, remember. this nothing but a story of two friends, one of whom is being a dick.

Willow