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~𝓕𝓪𝓭𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓟𝓪𝔀𝓹𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓽𝓼~
A/N: Based on a true story of me losing my precious cat in his super young age of two. It was super heartbreaking for me, as I didn't have anyone on my side for comfort. This fanfiction came to mind after burying him at the backside of my home.
Disclaimer: I do not own anyone in this story, except for the OC pet named Luddyvina. This story is a work of fiction. While I use the names and likenesses of professional wrestlers, please note that I am depicting on-screen characters and their fictional personas, not the real-life individuals or their private lives. Thank you for understanding. x
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Sheamus pushed open the door to John Cena's house, a wide smile on his face, ready to sweep his boyfriend off his feet for their long-overdue date night. The restaurant was booked, a fancy Irish pub he had been eyeing for months. In his hand, Sheamus had a small bouquet of wildflowers, John's favourite. The plan was simple: grab John, go eat, come back, and fall asleep tangled together. Perfect.
But the moment he stepped inside, the air felt thick, heavy with a suffocating silence that was all wrong. There was no booming "You can't see me!" greeting, no playful challenge from the living room. Sheamus' smile faltered. He followed the eerie quiet towards the living room and stopped dead.
John was on the floor, curled into a ball in front of the massive, ornate cat cage that took up a corner of the room. Inside, a small, unmoving cream tabby lay on a plush velvet cushion. His hand was stuck through the bars, his fingers resting on the cat's still-warm fur. His shoulders were shaking, and the sound he was making was a choked, wounded noise that Sheamus had never heard before. When John turned his head slightly, Sheamus saw his face. It was puffy, blotchy, and torn, his eyes swollen and red-rimmed.
"John..." Sheamus breathed, the flowers dropping from his hand to the carpet with a soft thud.
John just shook his head, unable to speak, another sob wracking his powerful frame. He looked so small, so broken. Sheamus knew immediately. The date was cancelled. It wasn't even a question. He walked over, sinking to his knees behind John, not touching him yet, just offering his presence. "I'm here, mo chroí. I'm right here."
His lover finally managed a hoarse whisper. "She's gone, Sheamus. Luddyvina... she's just gone."
Just then, Sheamus' phone buzzed insistently in his pocket. He ignored it, his focus entirely on the man crumbling in front of him. The buzzing stopped, then started again, more demanding. With a sigh of frustration, Sheamus pulled it out. The restaurant. He hesitated, then answered, stepping away slightly. "Hello?"
"Where are you?" A snide, impatient voice snapped on the other end. "Your reservation was for ten minutes ago. We can't hold a table of this calibre all night."
Sheamus' jaw tightened. "Something's come up. We won't be making it."
"Oh, I see," the manager sneered, his voice dripping with condescension. "Too bad. Guess Mr Cena is as unreliable with his dinner reservations as he is in the ring. Can't even show up on time, can he? Some champion. Can't even wrestle a coherent match without using the same dumb-old moves, let alone make it to dinner on time."
Rage, cold and sharp, shot through Sheamus. He turned his back to John, lowering his voice to a deadly calm. "Listen to me, you little pissant. You have no idea who you're talking about or what he's going through right now. John Cena has more integrity, more heart, in his little finger than you'll ever have in your entire miserable life. He's forgotten more about honour than you'll ever learn. Our business is done. Don't you ever call this number again."
He ended the call with a sharp jab of his thumb, his hand trembling slightly as he immediately found the number in his call log and hit 'Block Contact'. The audacity. To speak about his man like that.
He turned back to John, who had heard every word. A fresh wave of tears was streaming down his face, but this time they were different. Sheamus knelt again, this time reaching out to gently smooth John's short, bristly hair. "Hey now, none of that. He's a nobody. A bitter little man who means nothing."
Cena leaned into the touch, a broken sound escaping him. "I just... I wanted to say goodbye."
"I know, love. I know." Sheamus' heart ached. He looked around the room, then at John, and made a decision. He closed his eyes for a second, focusing. With a soft shimmer of light, as if bending the very logic of the world around them, his worn black travelling bag materialised on the floor beside him. He picked it up. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying with you tonight."
He guided John up from the floor, his strong arms supporting his boyfriend's weight. John felt like a lead weight, hollowed out by grief. Sheamus led him not towards the master bedroom, but to the guest room, a quieter space at the back of the house. He dropped the bag by the door and gently sat John on the edge of the bed.
Kneeling in front of him, Sheamus took John's face in his large, pale hands, his thumbs wiping away the endless tears. He looked into those devastated eyes and just sobbed with him, sharing the pain, letting his own tears fall. He didn't try to say it would be okay. He just let John know he wasn't alone in his sorrow.
After a long moment, he leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to John's forehead. "Let me take care of you," he whispered.
He helped Cena out of his day clothes and into a soft t-shirt, then manoeuvred them both onto the bed. Sheamus settled against the headboard, pulling John back against his chest. He wrapped his pale arms securely around his tan waist, feeling the tremors that still ran through him. He found his lover's hand, their fingers interlacing perfectly, a stark contrast of pale skin and golden tan.
John's head rested on Sheamus' shoulder, his breathing finally evening out into exhausted, shuddery sighs. Sheamus held him, a solid anchor in the storm of grief, kissing his hair, his temple, his forehead, offering silent comfort. The cage in the living room seemed a world away. In this room, wrapped in each other's embrace, there was only the steady beat of Sheamus' heart against John's back, a promise that even in the darkest sadness, he was not, and would never be, alone.
"I always have your back no matter what, I love you Cena," he whispered in silence.
END!
𓆩♡𓆪Rest in Peace Kooky-kun!𓆩♡𓆪
7 April 2024-29 April 2026
You'll always be remembered in my heart <3
I'm on Tumblr as @rozettaswritingblog