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“Someone looks like he got dogwalked.” Danny’s whole body aches, but he’s got a pep in his step anyways. He can’t say the same for Wheeler Yuta, who is hunched over in a hallway backstage at the arena, clutching at his neck. The light is dim here. The shadows seem to consume him.
“You were watching.” Yuta sounds tired. He looks tired too. Danny hasn’t really looked at him in a long time. That’s on purpose. He didn’t know how it would make him feel. Angry, he used to think. If he had any guesses now, he would guess he would be satisfied. After all, Danny’s got the TNT Belt slung over one shoulder and Yuta’s got nothing. And he does feel satisfied. But he also feels inexplicably sad, which dampens the satisfaction.
He shouldn’t be sad for Yuta. Not after all of this.
“You know I’d never pass up an opportunity to watch you get your ass kicked.”
“Says the guy who didn’t win either.” There’s no heat behind it. That’s the worst part.
“A draw with Kazuchika Okada’s ain’t too shabby.”
“Why are you here, Daniel?” Yuta clearly doesn’t want to see him. Danny doesn’t know why that pisses him off so much.
“Oohhh. Government name, I’m quaking.” Yuta barely reacts. His gaze is still trained on the ground. What the fuck is so interesting about concrete? “What? A guy can’t walk around backstage? Are your handlers going to jump me?”
“They’re not my handlers.” He tenses. Oh, this is a bit of a sore spot, Danny can see. And when there was an injury to be exploited, Danny can’t help himself. He can’t help but zero in on how Yuta doesn’t sound so confident. He certainly isn’t as confident as he was weeks ago, when he proclaimed he was his own man, only to answer to Claudio seconds later.
“Sure they aren’t.”
“Seriously, what the fuck is your problem?” Finally, Yuta looks at him. There’s a spark of anger in his eyes. Danny bites back a comment about how it’s nice to see that he’s still capable of not being a mindless robot. Perhaps he’s wrong though. The spark fizzles out within moments, and there’s nothing left except for resignation. Maybe Danny should be more like Yuta and accept that this is how things are now. Danny’s a champion and Yuta’s part of the Death Riders.
They’ve both made a hundred choices to get to this point. There’s no going back now.
Danny shrugs. “Not much. I’ve got singles gold, the fans love me, the locker room loves me.”
Unlike you, he wants to say. The way Yuta swallows lets him know that Yuta heard it without him having to say it. He remembers every time they’ve wrestled and feeling like Yuta could read his mind, and he could read Yuta’s.
Guess that kind of connection doesn’t fade so easily. How beautiful. How terrible.
“Don’t know if someone so happy would be acting like such an asshole right now,” Yuta grits out.
“Can’t help it when it comes to you.” It’s honest. Danny’s no liar or coward, not even to Yuta. He doesn’t deserve the truth, not when the admission made Danny feel awfully tender. Not in a sweet way. More like a wound. Sometimes Danny felt things in such extremes that he had no choice but to face those feelings. And what he knew about himself is that he had a mean streak and no one brought it out of him like Wheeler Yuta.
He liked to think that he was still one of the good guys in spite of it.
“I just,” Some invisible force propels him forward. His feet first. Then one arm, reaching out to shove at Yuta. The force makes Yuta step back only once, then he’s standing his ground. “Can’t stand cowards like you.”
“I’m not gonna let you bitch me like you did Jack Perry.”
“Oh yeah?” He punctuates each word with another push. “Prove. It.”
Yuta shoves him against the wall with so much force that Danny’s head bounces off of it. A searing pain cuts down his skull and all the way down his spine until he can feel it in his toes. The TNT belt falls from his shoulder and clatters to the ground.
“Fuck you.” It comes out breathy. Quieter than Danny expected it would. He was expecting Yuta to scream. He wanted him to scream. Why?
They’re both breathing heavily. It’s quiet, he realizes. Most people would have already cleared out of the arena. He wonders if the Death Riders are still around. Maybe they left Yuta here. Maybe Danny ask him. Maybe Danny should tell him that the truth is even if the Death Riders didn’t leave him, no one would be surprised if they did.
He can’t say any of it. Not when Yuta had both hands fisted in his tank top. Not when he could feel the heat of his hands through the fabric.
“You wish,” Danny spits back. Yuta doesn’t say anything.
Danny’s won, somehow. Or he would’ve won, that is, if he wasn’t the one who leaned forward to smash their lips together and damn them both to hell. Yuta makes a muffled noise before he lets go of Danny and staggers backwards.
“What the fuck are you doing?” He sounds like Danny just killed someone in front of him.
“I—” His head is spinning. He’s not sure it’s because he hit it earlier. He has an answer to Yuta’s question, really. He knows what he’s doing. He’s known ever since he re-signed his contract. He was going to win singles gold. Done. Now he was going to show out in the Continental Classic. And he was going to help save the soul of AEW. Of course he knew that would put Yuta in his path again eventually. Not like this. “I don’t know!”
“You’re seriously fucked up, man.”
Danny doesn’t know what he’s done. He feels like someone’s cut him open and now he was spilling his guts all over the floor and maybe Yuta didn’t feel enough about him anymore to be cruel back to him. Maybe Yuta didn’t hate him enough to rip them out until he was completely empty. Yuta didn’t need to either. He didn’t have to do anything but exist for Danny to blurt out, “No. You just make me feel fucking insane.”
Yuta freezes. Danny thinks he’ll walk away.
Instead, Yuta steps closer to him. “Yeah, well?” He laughs. Danny thinks he’s lost his mind, that they both have. “The feeling’s mutual.”
Then they’re kissing again. There’s no kindness in it. It’s violent in the way desperate men always get, all teeth and nails and fingers prodding at fresh bruises. This is the only way to get it — whatever it was — out of their systems. It has to be. Because if Yuta knocking him out at Final Battle a lifetime ago wasn’t enough, then he didn’t know what could be.
Yuta grabs him by the face and wrenches his head backwards to expose his throat. When his teeth graze Danny’s neck, he shivers. Yuta bites hard and Danny bites back a scream. Yuta holds him in place as he writhes. “You better not leave a mark.”
“I don’t give a shit what you think I can and cannot do.”
“You are your own man,” he mocks. rams three fingers into his mouth and Danny tries to call him a dick, except he can’t because of the stupid fingers. They press on his tongue until he starts to gag and spit dribbles out of his mouth.
Yuta’s still hellbent on making his neck look like he got choked out. And Danny doesn’t stop him. He doesn’t know which one of them is worse in this situation.
Yuta removes his wet fingers and spits into his hand before shoving it down Danny’s jeans and getting a grip of his half-hard cock. The moan leaves his lips before he can stop it. Yuta smirks and Danny thinks maybe he liked it better when Yuta was silencing him.
“Here? You’re fuckin’ nasty, man.” Yuta’s working him fast and hard enough that it hurts, and yet. “What would your handlers say if they caught you fucking the enemy?”
Yuta laughs. The sound is mean and cruel and Danny feels it in his toes. “You’re the one who started it, remember?” Yuta twists his wrist in a way that has Danny bucking into his hand. “What would the fans say if they saw their golden boy rutting into my hand right now like a whore? You’re trying to look like tough shit, Danny—” The nickname shoots straight to his dick, “but I can hear you begging me to fuck you.”
“I wouldn’t beg you for anything,” he snarls. “You’re awful.”
“Thought I was too nice.” Yuta’s hand stops. Danny sucks in a breath. It hurts. “And you’re the one who isn’t.”
Danny tries to not move. He swears on his life he’s trying. But Yuta still has a grip on him, so he rolls his hips into the touch just once. Then twice. Then he starts to lose count. He goes slowly. He’s still got a sense of pride to preserve.
“Look at you.” There’s hatred in Yuta’s voice. There’s also awe, or maybe Danny’s just reading into it because he’s at the point where everything he says sounds good. “Poor Danny. You’re the good guy. The hero. But you can’t help the fact that you’re really just mean inside.”
“Shut up.” Danny feels like his body and soul have fissured into two distinct entities. His soul is sick with shame. It can’t help but think about Jack telling Danny he wasn’t willing to do what had to be done. It can’t help but think about the smashed headlights. It can’t help but think about how good it felt to win clean. To win a hero’s win.
His body’s still chasing Yuta’s hand.
“No.” Yuta’s ecstatic. It’s the happiest Danny has seen him since Wembley. “You don’t get to tell me that.”
“Tearing me down isn’t gonna make you any less of a tool.”
“I could say the same to you.” Yuta’s hand starts to move. Danny continues to thrust into his fist. He hates how addictive their rhythm is together. It always is.
“I hate you so much.” And he hates that it comes out as a whimper.
“And you’d still let me fuck you stupid.” Danny curses the way the thought sends a jolt of pleasure through his body. He groans. “Yeah? You like that?”
“I hate you,” he repeats. He’s not capable of thinking any thoughts that didn’t involve Yuta right now.
“Maybe,” Yuta concedes. His pace slows again. Danny wants to scream. “But you’d probably still let me come in you, huh?”
“Yuta laughs at the way Danny’s cock jerks. “Fuck off.”
“Wish it were Wednesday,” Yuta sneers. “Wish I could come in you, then watch you go out there and talk all that self-righteous bullshit about how much you love this company.”
The pressure inside of him reaches a fever pitch. It’s humiliating.
“You know, Danny, you were right about yourself. You are nasty. You are grimey. You are violent. Like a fucking dog.”
Danny comes on a choked gasp. Yuta doesn’t help him. He just stands there as Danny fucks himself through it.
When Yuta removes his hand, he unceremoniously smears it across Danny’s tank top.
Silence crashes upon them.
When Danny looks up at him, there’s something like concern on his face. Like regret. “Are you…”
Danny despises him more than ever. He throws his entire body at him. They both topple to the ground with him straddling Yuta.
“ You,” Danny jabs a finger into his shoulder, where he knows that Yuta is hurting from his match earlier. Yuta winces. “are the biggest pussy I’ve ever met.”
“…Danny.” It’s meant to be a warning. Somehow Yuta’s less scary when he’s underneath him. And when Danny can feel his cock straining against his sweats. Danny grinds his hips into Yuta’s because maybe he isn’t nice.
“Don’t ‘Danny’ me.” Danny presses the bruise harder. Yuta’s hands fly to his hips. “If you’re gonna talk all that shit, at least stand on it. Pathetic as hell otherwise.”
“And you’re about to let me put my dick inside of you.” It’s the calmest Yuta has sounded since they first ran into each other. It’s the most lucid Danny has felt too. He knows he wants this. He just doesn’t know how to be okay with it yet. He’s no stranger to hooking up — with strangers or with other wrestlers. He’s no stranger to wanting to fuck his opponents.
This feels different. They came up in this business together, the two of them. And for better or for worse, his hatred couldn’t taint the memories of what it was like before. He’s no liar. That’s why he’d never confess that the first time they locked up in the ring was anything except for magic.
They’ve got good chemistry, he knows. But the fact is that some chemical reactions were meant to blow up spectacularly. Danny is the type of person to go looking for it. Yuta was too.
“Don’t let it get to your head,” Danny tells him, even as he feels a withering feeling in his chest.
“…You’re delusional.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Danny takes off his pants and underwear. He tosses them to the side, somewhere in the vicinity of where his title belt is too. He settles over Yuta again, spits onto his fingers, and starts to work himself open.
One or both of them should be talking right now, but they’ve both fallen quiet. Danny tries not to look at him, but he can feel Yuta’s eyes on him. Yuta’s hands run up and down his thighs with a bruising gentleness.
Once he’s loose enough, Danny pulls down Yuta’s sweats just enough to free his cock. It’s already leaking. He runs a finger through the precome and spreads it over the head, pumping him a few times for good measure.
“You chickening out?” Yuta challenges.
“You don’t scare me like that,” Danny retorts. He lowers himself onto Yuta’s cock. They both gasp.
It feels — it’s not home. Not at all. Just somewhere safe because it’s secret.
Danny sets a quick pace that has Yuta gripping his hips. Now that he knew how vocal Yuta was, he couldn’t un-know it ever again. He can feel himself getting hard again in spite of himself. Partially because it feels so goddamn good. Partially because Yuta just lies there and takes it and it’s kind of hot.
“Think about this a lot?” Yuta tries. Danny considers not answering. Yuta could hold the answer over him forever. But there’s a delicateness in his voice that makes Danny go against his better judgment. Seems to be a theme when it comes to the two of them.
“Yeah,” Danny admits. “Hard not to after you tap a guy out.”
Yuta laughs. It’s the most earnest one tonight. It might be the most earnest one Danny’s ever gonna get from him. Yuta angles his hips, and the next time Danny sinks down onto him, he moans.
“Honestly just thought I could fuck you into shutting up.”
“Like I said, delusional.” This time it’s a little softer. Somewhere in the haze, he feels a pang of sadness. He moves faster, with more aggression until he can overwhelm it with pleasure. Yuta chokes. “Danny—”
“…Think Mox will give you a good beating if he caught us right now? Maybe in front of a whole crowd?” There it is. His instinct to fuck up whatever semblance of tenderness existed between them. It was never meant to last. He might as well be the one to destroy it. “What happened to all that fight you had before, huh?”
He means it in a bigger sense. Neither of them can answer that question. Yuta plants his feet firmly on the ground so he can thrust up into Danny harder.
“You know what, Yuta?” Danny yanks Yuta’s hair, forcing him to look at him. “I don’t think you want to fight. I think you want—” Danny comes down on him hard. “someone to tell you what to do.” Yuta shudders. “Got your dick in me but you’re the one taking it like a good little boy.”
Danny was already close to being fully hard again, but the noise Yuta makes at that brings him all the way there. Yuta meets every movement of Danny’s hips with a perfectly timed thrust and Danny can’t help but egg him on.
“Better make good of all that talk from earlier,” Danny pants. He’s starting to realize how humid it is here. He thinks of the first time they wrestled, in the warehouse, their sweat on the ring mat and in each other. “Yeah, come in me.”
Yuta does. Danny’s so full of him. The sensation is overwhelming. He continues to move, and it isn’t long until Danny is coming again. Some of it lands on Yuta’s shirt. They could call it even.
They stay there for a few more moments before Danny rolls off of him. He turns away from Yuta and gets dressed again. It fucking sucks. His pants and underwear are quite ruined. He picks up his TNT belt and doesn’t sling it over his shoulder again.
He’s not feeling victorious at all.
When he turns back to Yuta, Yuta’s in a similar state.
Danny says the thing he should’ve said the moment he stumbled upon Yuta: “I should go.” Then, a beat later, “You gonna find Moxley and the others?”
“They—” Yuta hesitates. “They left. That’s why I was—”
Alone.
“Oh.” Danny would say he’s sorry, but he’s not. This is what Yuta deserves. Isn’t it? “I’ll give you a ride or whatever. If you want.“
“Danny.”
“Decide before I decide for you,” he snaps. He starts to pace. It was crazy how fast Yuta could make him go from zero to one hundred. He’d never understand it.
“…Why?”
“I don’t know.”
Yuta watches him for several moments. Danny doesn’t know which answer he would prefer. Yuta says, “Okay.”
So Danny drives Yuta to his hotel, and Yuta gets out. Yuta leaves. Danny watches him go. Danny doesn’t say anything, even though he wants to. He wants to say see you around, but he can’t, not when it was supposed to be goodbye a long time ago.