HAKKARONS PROFFESSIONAL WRESTLING
He watched Hakka work diligently on tending to the last of his injuries (results of foul play his years-long rival in the league pulled in their last encounter), silent and frowning, and he knew that something has been occupying his thoughts all this time - ever since he came to him and the brunet threw him one knowing stare before dashing off to fetch his first aid kit.
“…Ron,” the quiet voice nearly made him jump in his seat and he raised his head, giving Hakka a questioning look - a heartbeat or two of stern staring later receiving in return a determined (if somewhat frustrated, he could tell) mutter of “next time he tries to pull crap like that on you again, I’m going to kick his arse.”
The redhead snorted, but pulled the small manager into his lap for a tight (enough to earn a scornful “hey, you’ll break my ribs!” in return) hug, effectively hiding the small smile blooming on his face.