#Also it could end with them fucking in the ring but shhhhhh I am well aware that is my fanfic brain

[banannabethchase]

I NEED the Hangman/Moxley match tomorrow to end in a double DQ, a time limit draw, or a double count out. Leave them 1-1-1, FORCE a final death match where they are both desperate for the final victory and ready to spill blood and sweat in exchange for a definitive victory. Don't let a random Dynamite be the end of this feud. Let them go to Revolution and tear each other apart in front of a massive audience, let them pull out all the stops and go after each other with a single-minded fury.

I WANT A HANGMOX TEXAS DEATH MATCH AT REVOLUTION, GODDAMNIT.

[aboysbestfriendishismum]

Chapter 55 - Wine, puzzles and spoonmen (Part One)

In the previous chapter: Eddie and Angie woke up at her apartment. It's the third time in a row they sleep together but, although Eddie is constantly teasing her, they haven't had sex yet. Angie starts to get worried about this too and believes something's wrong. Eddie, Stone and Mike go to Roxy's on that same morning, right during Angie's shift at the diner. Eddie cheekily jokes, teases her, sends her subliminal love messages through juke box songs, then follows her in the back and kisses her; she thinks he's doing it on purpose so that their friends will find out about their relationship. The two of them have a brief argument but they soon make it up. Meg tells Angie about her new project: becoming a tattoo artist. She also understands Angie's worried about something and has her friend spill the beans. Angie confesses she has doubts about Eddie's physical attraction towards her. Meg tries to talk some sense into her and suggests her to set up a romantic night for Eddie and her at their apartment.

***

“Ian, can you come here a sec?” I call my coworker as I look through the sketchbook my roommate has just slipped on the counter top together with her purchases.

“What's up?” I hear him answer from afar.

“I need your help”

“Can't you do it by yourself? That guy who dropped the jarred Bolognese sauce made a mess!”

“Umph if that's Bolognese sauce, then I'm Julia Roberts!” I comment right when Hannigan comes back from the storage room, probably because of the commotion he heard.

“ANGIE?” he gives me a nasty look and I'd want to sink into the ground.

“Err I meant that it's a sauce produced in our beloved America! Healthy American food, tasty and nutritious... which gets inspiration from an Italian recipe to... to...” I try and make up for that as I address my audience, that is basically Meg, looking at me as if she could burst into laughing any minute, my boss and two perplexed customers, a young man and a fifty-something woman.

“To give a new interpretation of it?” the guy suggests from the snacks department.

“EXACTLY! A new interpretation. Different from the original”

“But as valid as the original” the boss adds.

“Very valid!” I say through my teeth.

“She's half Italian.” Meg explains to the customers “She'll be fucking fussing about everything but the sauce is good” the guy snickers and the lady shakes her head and walks towards the frozen foods.

“I'd have liked for you not to use the F word but you perfectly summed up my thinking” Hannigan's face relaxes and maybe I still have a job.

“Anyway it's all Ian's fault” I point out as soon as I see my colleague show up behind the back of the boss.

“What did I do?”

“I called you and you didn't came”

“Well, now I'm here, what's wrong?”

“Now Hannigan's here, I don't need you anymore”

“Can you please explain what the fuck's happening? I didn't understand a fucking thing!” the boss blurts out in the middle of our quarrel.

“I thought you couldn't say the F word here” Meg chimes in raising her hand as if she was at school.

“Not to custumers, but to employees...  yes”

“Meg needs to buy some wine” I point at my roommate and the bottle she's placed on the counter.

“So what? Your shift ends at 13:00, you still have 10 minutes” Ian gives me a glazed look and right now I'd stick my thumbs into his eyes.

“It's not for the timing, it's that I can't sell alcohol...”

“Oh right! Well, you'll take care of that, right?” he asks to our boss.

“Yeah, sure Ian! I'll take care of that, I'm already here! By the way why should I have my paid personnel work when I can do everything by myself, right?”

“Uhm... ok, I'll go and put some more sawdust on that stain” Ian walks away and Meg can't resist this time and explodes laughing.

“Haha he's so dumb! Anyway isn't it funny that you cannot sell me wine, considering you're the one who'll drink it?” my friend remarks while Hannigan's ringing her items: red wine bottle, sliced bread, salmon, cheese, butter, various snacks.

“You're kind of dumb too, you know” I hide my face behind my palms.

“You could avoid telling me, at least...” mutters the boss and shakes his head.

“Who? Telling you what? I didn't say a word! Oops, I forgot the dessert, wait a minute!” Meg realizes the shit she just did and plays dumb, walking away towards the sweets section.

“She was just kidding anyway hehe” I say and I hope he doesn't notice I'm sweating.

“Of course”

**

“They're great!”

“Thank you Meg for grocery shopping for me and bringing all the bags up for four floors for me... that's what you just said, right?” my friend is putting everything into the fridge as I keep looking through her sketchbook.

“Exactly”

“Anyway you don't have to tell me you like them only to make me happy, I want a honest opinion”

“I am honest! I must say I like the ones in black and white better”

“Right? I'm not confident with colors yet. I mean, it's not like I can't draw stuff in colors. It's just, whenever I draw something and color it and I think it'd be supposed to end on someone's skin, everything seems shit to me. I did very few drawings in color”

“The flowers series is perfect, also the one with the animals” she's really good at drawing, I've always known that.

“They're just doodles to get started, to try some themes and styles”

“They're not doodles... what about this?” I focus on something drawn on a separated sheet of paper, folded and stuck in the middle of the book, which falls down to the floor as I turn the pages.

“Which one?” Meg distractedly turns around then closes the fridge door shut and runs up to me, snatching the paper from my hand as soon as she sees what it is “Oh this? This is nothing, this... I did it last night at the salon, during downtime, it sucks”

It's a page made entirely of pieces of a puzzle, they're all different in shape and shade but don't create any image. They're all blank and fill the whole sheet of paper except for a small space, a missing piece. Instead of the missing piece, in the layer underneath, you can see something that looks like live flesh and muscle tissue, and it's the only colored part of the drawing.

“It's simple but of immediate effect. This could really become a tattoo”

“Do you think so?”

“Yeah, it also seems very realistic. It's disturbing but in a positive sense, I like it!”

“Oh, well, thank you”

“What does it mean?”

“That I thank you for your compliment?”

“Haha no, what does the tattoo mean?”

“Ah”

“There's always a meaning behind, right? What would such a tattoo mean?”

“Well but... but this is not a tattoo is just an excercise, there's no reason behind”

“No?”

“No! Ok, now that you make me think about it, it could represent, I don't know, a missing piece in someone's life? I mean, everybody has their own void inside, right? Nobody feels 100% complete, there's always a piece of the puzzle we can't find or that we lost in the way. And it can be very different things: a person, a passion, a goal in life. What do you think?”

“I think it'd be the perfect matching tattoo for a couple”

“A couple? Hahaha I didn't know you were so romantic!”

“Not necessarily a romantic couple. Also between two big friends. Or brothers. Think about it, one person can have the incomplete puzzle tattoed and the other one can have the missing piece, which fits in it perfectly”

“That's an idea. It should represent a strong bond. Between brothers... or a parent and a child”

“Sure, also” the latter not necessarily being a strong bond...

“A mother... a mother could get this one, with one or more missing pieces depending on how many children she's got.And the children will be the missing pieces” and what if the missing parts are the parents instead?

“And they you'll inject ink in those chubby baby arms of theirs!”

“Hahahah shut up! They can have it done when they're grown up. OR... you can draw the missing pieces in the same tattoo, a little further” Meg takes the sketchbook from my hands and starts drawing as she speaks, taken from sudden inspiration.

“You can also put the name in it. Or initials”

“Which name?”

“Of the child. Inside the puzzle piece”

“Sure, if I knew the name”

“What do you mean? Haha how can a mother not know the name?”

Meg gives me a weird look, then smiles: “I meant, if only you could give me a name to have a try”

“Try with Angie” I smirk.

“A random one”

“Totally random”

“Don't even try, I'm not gonna get matching tattoos with you, forget it” she shakes her head as she starts sketching a cursive A inside the drawing.

“SHUT UP! I'm scared of getting my earlobes pierced, do you think I'd get a tattoo?! You're crazy”

“Oh, I see, you wanna get one with Eddie?”

“Come on, hurry up, we need to go shopping”

“Hahaha this enthusiasm from you surprises me, abstinence can be powerful”

“MEG!”

**

“Do you really think we can find a slutty nightgown in a thrift shop?” Meg doesn't watch her tone as we stop in front of Rummage Hall.

“Shhhhhh! I don't wanna buy a slutty nightgown, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“You don't want to? We went out exactly for that”

“You said I should wear something nice but not too much. I don't wanna go too far or Eddie will understand...”

“Excuse me, isn't that the purpose of the whole thing? Make him understand?”

“Yes but...”

“Well, slutty it is, then!” Meg enters the shop and I tag along.

“Shhhhhhhhhhhh”

“Anyway we're not gonna find shit in here” my friend takes long strides towards the clothing section.

“Where did you want to go? Nancy Meyer? I've got no money for that stuff”

“No, but Fantasy Unlimited is a short walk away”

“BUT THAT- ehm... that is an adult shop” I raise my voice too without noticing, then shush myself up.

“And you're an adult, aren't you? Anyway they've got very cute things, I bought a lot of stuff there, that for the record I use also to go to clubs. Well, now only to go to clubs” she shrugs as she's examining a satin-like robe and then puts it back.

“You just need two triangles of fabric to be dressed and look nice, Meg, but for me it's slightly different”

“You just need triangles a little bigger, what's the problem?”

“The problem is there are no triangles big enough for me”

“Shut up!”

“And I don't know if Eddie would like that, I mean, I don't know his preferences” maybe he doesn't like this kind of seduction artifices, maybe he prefers a simpler style, a more natural approach. Why the fuck am I not naturally hot?

“He's a guy and he's heterosexual, what would his preferences ever be? The more skin he sees, the happier he is” it's Meg's very easy answer.

“My skin?”

“Yes, why?”

“There's too much skin in my case, maybe I'd better hide it” who am I kidding? You don't just put something cute on and turn into an attractive girl. You must be able to carry it around and feel confident in those clothes. I don't even feel comfortable now that I have a coat on. I'm never comfortable, except sometimes, with Eddie. Why ruin everything? I'll just show up like this, with a coat on. Or my fleece robe, I mean, he's used at my shitty outfits, this would be nothing new.

“Angie, what the fuck are you talking about?? He wants to see your skin because he likes you, I thought that had been already established by now”

“He likes me, altogether”

“No, fuck altogether, fuck mind, personality and all the other bullshit”

“Bullshit?”

“Angie, he likes your body, you turn him on, he wants you”

“He wants me so much than I gotta dress slutty to have him notice me?”

“The point is not having him notice you, that's what you got totally wrong. He already noticed you, you're with him basically! The point is letting him know you're ready for the next step. And stimulate him a little, warming up the atmosphere”

“If you say so” warming up, uh?

“Fuck, Angie, you're gonna give me a nervous breakdown sooner or later!” Meg pinches the bridge of her nose and I'm afraid she's really about to explode.

“Don't yell! There's people here” I complain looking around in embarrassment and hoping no one is listening to our conversation.

“Listen, when you're together... don't you ever notice anything in him?”

“What do you mean?”

“Whenever you kiss or hug... I mean, when you make out and stuff”

“Well, he looks... invested, focused on me and always gives me those looks that-”

“Ok ok, the look of love. But apart from that? Nothing else? Can't you feel anything?”

“What am I supposed to feel?”

“You know, since you also sleep together... and stuff”

“Stuff and stuff... Couldn't you be more clear?”

“Have you ever felt... something knocking?”

“Knocking?”

“Hasn't mini-Eddie ever popped up to say hi?”

“Mini... MEG WHAT THE FUCK??”

“Does he get hard? You must have noticed”

“DID YOU LOSE YOUR FUCKING MIND?!”

“Shhh stop yelling, there's people here” Meg chuckles and I'd kick her ass.

“You're to lock up” I grab her from the sleeve of her jacket and try to drag her out of the shop with me but she pushes me towards the books section.

“Jeez, you're such a prude”

“I'm not a prude, I'm just... discreet”

“Ok so have you ever discreetly checked if he gets a boner or not when he's with you?”

“Apart from the fact that it doesn't mean anything”

“Sure, now Eddie gets random boners with no reason, after all he's in his full pubescent phase”

“You're joking but it's true. Erections are not necessarily linked to sexual arousal only. Do you know men can get erections at the point of death too under certain circumstances?”

“Oh really? And how many times did Eddie die recently?” she smirks.

“Anyway, that said... it's none of your business” I turn the other way trying to look upset and as I look towards the clothing section, where we were until five minutes ago, I spot something I hadn't noticed before.

“I already know anyway!” Meg yells behind my back as I walk away towards the object of my interest, then she catches up with me “Come on, don't be mad. I'm sorry. I just wanted to prove my point! And tease you a little”

“What do you think about this?” I turn around showing the item I've just taken from the line.

“I think that... well, considering it's Eddie, we would never find something better to stimulate him, not ever at Fantasy Unlimited. Buy it!”

******************************************************************************************************************************************

I'm halfway between the first and the second floor when I realize I took the stairs instead of the elevator. I stop for a second, contemplating how stupid I am and trying to remember the moment I put autopilot on. I probably lost some lucidity once I parked outside Angie's condo. Was the doorway open? I think so, 'cause I don't remember buzzing and I'd remember if I had heard her voice, even through that shitty croaky buzzer. It looks like spending more time together hasn't changed the effect that the idea of seeing her has on me. I hope it'll never change. I shake my head and start walking up the stairs, two steps at a time, to arrive sooner. I didn't exactly run but when I get to the fourth floor I feel flushed. I take a deep breath, pull up my backpack and walk down the hallway to Angie's apartment. The first weird thing I notice is a sound: the sound of a saxophone, which becomes louder and louder as I get closer. The second weird thing shows up as soon as I turn down the corner and see something's wrong in Angie's door. As I come closer I realize the hallway lamp casts a narrow beam of light on the floor inside the apartment and from that I notice that the door is half-closed. As far as I know Angie double locks herself up even in her bathroom when she's home alone, she'd never let the apartment door open. I walk up slowly and in the meantime I open my backpack and stick my hand in it to find something I could use as a weapon. I don't really wanna waste some good wine crashing the bottle on the head of an elusive burglar. But I also doubt the videotape of Harold and Maude would have the same effect. I grab the bottle from the neck as I push the door open and cautiously enter the apartment. And I immediately notice two things. First of all I see there's something on the floor and at first they seem parts of a colorful object that broke into pieces. But as I lean down to see better, I take some of these fragments in my hand and figure out it's nothing but flowers, abandoned on the floor. I grope my way looking for water or glass pieces of a fallen and then shattered vase but I can't find anything. Now that I think about it, there was no vase of flowers here, at least not until this morning. Almost at the same time, I realize it's not really flowers but only petals and they seem to form a path towards the living room. In that moment I figure out I can follow the path of the blue and red petals on the floor with my eyes because the entrance is not lit only by the external hallway light but also by some burning candles placed on the phone table and on the shoe cabinet.

Oh.

I quickly stand up, feeling stupid for mistaking a romantic setting for a crime scene. I finally close the door behind me and follow the way led by the flowers, walking towards the living room and imagining the different scenes I could find, which have all the same main character. But she's the one missing when I get in the room, all that I find is more candles, the small table laden with delicious food and further away, between the two couches, a basket with a composition of blue and red flowers, just like the petals on the floor. Your love is king sings Sade in the background, that is not exactly background, since the volume is pretty loud. And I'm just standing here, wine still in my hand, waiting for Angie to magically show up, maybe with a little ambush behind my back, covering my eyes with her hands or in any other way she came up with. But that doesn't happen. Suddenly I think I hear a sound, more sounds, actually an almost regular sequence of sounds. I go and turn down the music a little and the series of dull thuds sounds clearer. Maybe a romantic setting doesn't exclude a crime scene... what the fuck is happening?

“Angie?” I call her and get no answer.

The noise comes from the kitchen and that's where I go, quickly but with caution. At first I slowly open the door to peep in, then I fling it open when I see Angie at the window, leaning outside, basically perched on the windowsill.

“Angie!” I call her again but she can't hear me. So I put the wine bottle on the table and reach out for her, shaking her by her shoulder “Angie what th-”

“AAH! Oh shit, Y'ALL WATCH OUT DOWN THERE!” Angie jumps and starts yelling outside the window, then I can hear a sharp noise, like something shattered into pieces and that's when I look out too to see what's happening.

What's happening is that there a small group of people on the pavement just outside the condo, standing in a sort of circle around a red expanding stain, while a guy curses and gives the middle finger in our direction.

“Angie... what did you do? What does it mean?” I ask as we both stuck our heads back inside the apartment.

“I've just lost a bottle of red wine and a boot” Angie sighs and replies as if it's the most normal thing, finally turning to face me.

And I finally focus for a moment and see what's in front of me: Angie, dressed in just a black The Who t-shirt that leaves her legs almost entirely uncovered, eye liner or whatever it is on her eyes, with those little wings on the sides pointing upwards that make her look more like a kitty, a glossy lipstick on her lips, vanilla scent. Maybe the burglar hit and killed me and this is heaven.

“Well, I can make up for the wine because I brought some too...” I walk backwards towards the table without taking my eyes off her, pointing at the place where I must have put the bottle “and I can go out and get back your shoe in no time. So, you see? Everything has a solution hehe, don't worry” why the fuck am I laughing? Do I think I'm funny? And why am I sweating?

“I'm sorry you have to go, you've just arrived” she replies with an irresistible pout, moving away from the window and breaking eye contact looking down.

“No problem, I'll be back in a minute.” I'm about to leave the kitchen, then I come back in “Oh wait, I can't”

“Oh ok... why? I mean, it doesn't matter Eddie, don't... don't worry” she starts stuttering and I smirk inside, trying to look cool.

“I forgot I have to do something first”

“What?” she asks puzzled before I get close and take her face between my hands to kiss her.

“This. I'll be right back, ok?” I whisper right after.

“Ok” she smiles and I kiss her again.

“And just so you know, when I'm back I got a bunch of questions about all this to ask you”

“Ok” her smiles widens and I kiss her once more.

“I'm telling you in advance so I won't catch you unprepared”

“Ok...” she repeats and I'm about to kiss her once again but she holds me back with her hands against my chest “Now go though”

“Uh is that so?” I try and get my kiss but she pushes me harder away.

“Hurry up”

“I'm going, I'm going. So bossy...” I let go of her and leave the kitchen, only to show up on the doorway a second later, only for a moment “I like it”

**

It takes me a while to find the boots, I mean, the boot, Angie's brown one, cause it rolled down the sidewalk under a parked car. When I find it, I instinctively look up, as if I'm expecting to see her still there, at the window, with her colorful hair fluttering in the night breeze. But she's not there and  I immediately go back inside. And during the whole way, this time using the elevator, I try and figure out the connection between wine and boot and the dynamics that brought them both out of the window. I walk up to the apartment and Sade is still singing.

“Thank you, Eddie. Do you want some?” I turn around the corner in the hallway and Angie's on the doorway with a bowl of chips in her hands and she holds it out to me as I get closer.

I want you I'd tell her but I just give her the boot and take the bowl and bury my hand in it.

“Anytime” I watch her quickly walking away into her room, quickly walking on her naked legs... GET IT TOGETHER MAN, YOU'RE SWEATING.

“Why are you standing there like that? Come in” Angie comes back and I'm still here at the door eating chips.

“I was waiting for you” I shrug and follow the flower path and her steps once again into the living room.

“So?” she asks when we're in front of the couch and I put the bowl of chips down on the small wooden table, since I believe we're about to sit down. Yet she keeps standing and smiles at me, with the tip of her canine popping up and diggin into her lower lip for a second as usual.

“So?” I repeat getting closer till my face is inches from hers, but without hugging her or kissing her, as if there's a game, a challenge between us, a challenge I'll surely fail.

“The bunch of questions... “ she looks down and, tugging the hem of her t-shirt down, she quickly takes a seat and I'm sure she's blushing even though she's not looking at me.

“Ok... Sade?” I point at the record player and sit down beside her, as I take off my jacket and throw it on the other couch.

“Hahaha of all this mess, the strangest thing to you is Sade's record?”

“No. But it's the first thing I thought of now”

“Don't you like it? It's... it's a good album” she turns towards me and subtly closes the distance between us on the couch at the same time.

“She's very good, it's just I didn't think you liked her. Can I ask the second question?”

“Sure”

“What the hell were you doing at the window with a bottle and a boot?” Angie's grin widens again.

“I was trying to open the wine bottle” she shrugs as if this is the most obvious explanation.

“By kicking it?”

“Hahaha more or less. My dad taught me”

“I sense a memorable anecdote is coming, I'm all ears”

Angie tells me about that time when she went on a camping trip with her parents to Lake Payette, her father's idea to celebrate his and his wife's birthdays, that I guess must be very close. On night one Ray pulled out a bottle of wine he had brought for the occasion but realized he forgot the corkscrew. He pounced on the cork with a knife but it seemed he couldn't open the bottle. Janis wanted to postpone the toast to the following evening, after going to the nearby shop and buying the bottle opener. There was no way to convince Ray though. So Angie's dad, as nothing happened, took off his boot in front of them, stuck the fuckin' bottle in it and, without saying a word, walked clumsily on a single boot up to the closest ponderosa pine and started slamming the bottle, protected by his shoe, against the trunk.

“You know, the pressure inside the bottle pushes the cork out, until you can grab it and take it off with your hands. My mom and I were doubled over in laughter” as she tells the story, Angie crosses her legs and moves on the couch and this makes her shirt go up little by little. I notice that and feel kind of an asshole.

“But it worked”

“And that was the first time I tasted wine: I was 11. It was good, although it had been shaken for 15 minutes”

“This means you got no corkscrew here at home?”

“Yeah... I mean, actually we had one, but I can't find it anymore. I guess someone took it at my birthday party or Matt or Chris borrowed it and haven't returned it yet. Sure it didn't seem wise to go there and ask them now, you know...” yes, I know, you didn't ask them because they'd have asked questions you don't wanna answer, at least by now.

“And you decided to use the Pacifico technique”

“And since I don't have any tree here, the only way to do it was beating the bottle against the wall. But I didn't want to risk getting the kitchen dirty so...”

“Hehe so you figured you'd do it out of the window?” I adore this woman.

“Yep. And it was working fine, until a certain someone scared me and made me drop everything. And I made a mess” she gives me a playful nasty look and scoots away from me.

“You're right, it's all my fault.” I scoot over on the couch to sit back close to her “But I know how to make you forgive me” ok, more than close basically glued to her.

“How?” she looks up at me amused, basically batting her eyelids against mine.

“Opening the other bottle” I stand up out of the blue and I leave her there, maybe a little disappointed? I go into the kitchen, take the bottle and open the window.

“With the Pacifico technique?” she asks as she shows up at the kitchen door.

“Nuh, with the Vedder one” I peer outside, remove the wrapper, pull out my lighter and start heating the end of the bottle neck with the flame.

“Isn't this dangerous?” I feel one arm circling my hip and for a minute there the red wine bottle was about to end the same way as Angie's one.

“No, I did it so many times” I answer as I rotate the bottle.

“Hey, it's coming out!” Angie exclaims behind my back while the cork starts moving.

At that point I tilt the bottle slightly as to prevent the cork from exploding like a bullet inside the apartment or into somebody else's window. Finally the corks pops out and falls into the street, where it looks like he doesn't hit anyone. Wine is safe too.

“See! Hot air expands inside the bottle and pushes the cork.” I close the window and triumphantly show the uncorked bottle to Angie, who arches her eyebrow at me “What? I can do science too, you know”

“So you also know you could have caused an explosion and get hurt?” she rolls her eyes and by the way is still hugging me.

“Not if you know how to do it and and to be careful. So, am I forgiven?” I ask, raising the bottle at her as if it was a toast.

“Sure!” she chuckles and looks at me in silence for a while. And I'm expecting a kiss but instead, she lets go of me and exits the kitchen, but not before addressing me again “Let's go taste you boiled wine”

The wine is not boiled at all and it's not bad. Angie and I are at the second round and, as I'm stuffing my face with chips and sandwiches, I realize it's getting hot in here. I mean, I can't be this heated for two glasses of wine. And neither for the half nakedness of Angie. Even though... And this is the moment I figure out my usually chilly girlfriend is dressed only in a t-shirt and I can't hear her teeth chatter for the cold, so there must be something going on here.

“My bunch of questions aren't over anyway...” I say and Angie makes herself comfortable on the couch, half laid and leaning on the armrest.

“Shoot”

“It's fucking hot in here, isn't it?” I ask as I take off my flannel and she starts laughing uncomfortably and, as she tries to sit up, her feet get closer, touch my legs and push against me a little to leverage. But I don't move an inch.

“Hahaha yeah, you're right... as you can see, tonight's really the perfect night: just one disaster after another”

“Why? What happened?” I throw the shirt there were my jacket is.

“I don't know, it must... the heating system must be broken, and that's not unusual. The new thing is... this time, I don't know... they kind of broke the other way round and it's been heating non stop at full power since this afternoon”

“Do you want me to check your radiators?”

“No point trying, it's not just here, the whole building is burning basically”

“Do you want me to go down and check the boiler room?”

“NO!” Angie basically kicks me, then regains her composure “Err no, no worries. And then, I mean, the apartment manager is the one who's supposes to take care of this stuff and call technicians, that's what he's paid for! He'll do the work”

“Ok”

“And what if you can't solve the problem and maybe no one can and they blame you because you put your hand in there...”

“Alright”

“And by the way, at least it's not freezing, for a change”

“Well, yeah, still better than freezing but...”

“I know. Shitty building. Anyway, now you know the... ehm, you know why I'm dressed like... this” Angie goes on and pulls down her t-shirt again to cover her thighs.

“I wouldn't call it a disaster then” I smirk and rub the back of my hand softly against her leg, from her ankle to her knee. She stares at me in the eyes and for a moment I'm sure she's about to throw herself over me and kiss me, but I'm wrong again.

“So? Which movie do we watch first? Mine or yours?” she asks out of the blue.

“You decide” actually I even forgot about the movies, the heat, the wine, about where we are and maybe what year we are as well.

“No, come on, you tell me” my hand is still going up and down.

“It's the same for me, Angie”

“Same for me too”

“You're the host, you choose”

“You're my guest, so it's up to you” of course, as always: it's up to me.

“Uhm... alright! Let's watch yours first then”

“Ok! The tape is there under the tv, would you put it on? I'll get some water” in a fraction of a second Angie sneaks away into the kitchen and I find myself alone. I turn off the stereo then crawl in front of the tv to get the Goodfellas tape and as I do I think about one thing. Well, actually two. One worse than the other. The first thing is that I'd rather have gone to get the water instead of Angie, so I could come back here and see her on hands and knees as she fumbles with the videorecorder, and that it'd have made for a very nice view. My second thought is that the tv looked much better in Angie's room and it'd have been much more enjoyable to watch it with her from her bed.

Disgusting thoughts indeed.

“Did you find it?” Angie's question startles me as if I was caught red handed doing something illicit.

“Yep” I press Play, stand up and try to get back on the couch before her. I do and sit right in the middle of it. So she won't be able to sit far from me. I gloat for my smar idea.

“If you want to be more comfortable, just lay down. I'm gonna sit there. Hehe we have one couch each if we want to” is Angie even aware of her endless power? The power to leave me totally speechless with such statements?

“Actually... I don't want to”

“Are you sure?” well, I don't know... WHAT DO YOU THINK?

“Very sure, I don't want a whole couch for me, I wanna share it with you” I hold my arms out and grab her by her waist, pulling her gently towards me until I finally take her back on this couch. And I hold her and kiss her and touch her, pushing her delicately towards the armrest on her side. And at some point I feel her hand moving right under my body. I think I know what she's about to do and I feel euphoric all of a sudden. But Angie is able to surprise me again, because even if I don't see her doing it, I can clearly feel her gesture of grasping at the hem of her t-shirt and pulling it down for the umpteenth time. I internally laugh at my stupid X-rated delusions, although on the other hand I'm sorry Angie doesn't feel comfortable with me yet. I don't wanna hurry, really, I'd just like to know what the problem is. I give her one last peck on her lips and back away so we can both sit up properly.

“Ok. Let's fastforward all the commercials and advisories. Where's the remote? Oh there it is!” Angie, the one who was about to abandon me all by myself on this couch, the one who was coy and bashful during my approach like two minutes ago, it's the same girl that basically climbs on me to jump over on the opposite side and stretch out to take the remote on the other armrest. And then does the same thing backwards to get back to her place. And I'm not complaining at all.

**

We're almost at the end of my movie and this is the situation: we finished the wine I don't even remember when, as for food only a few snacks and two small chocolate cakes are left; I'm in my t-shirt and boxers because it's really hot, although we opened the window in the living room; Angie's smoking a cigarette, resting on the couch with her legs over mine and I've been genty stroking them for literal HOURS, something that contributes in heating the atmosphere even more. And I also feel kind of guilty, because Harold has just rushed to the hospital with Maude and I already know what's about to happen and the ending breaks my heart every time... and I'm here, basking in the softness and smoothness of Angie's skin under my fingers.

“It's so sad. But also beautiful at the same time” she remarks during the credits.

“Yeah. You really haven't seen it before?”

“Never. And now I see why you like it”

“Hehe right, Cat Stevens has something to do with it” I reply since I think she's referring to the soundtrack.

“Uhm yeah but that's not what I meant. What I wanted to say is that... well, this movie is like you” she takes one long last hit of smoke, then puts out her cigarette in the ashtray she placed on the floor. And she's amazing. Not because she's smoking but... I know it's not nice to say, and it's also unhealthy, a bad bad habit, but... there are times, particular times in which, maybe fuelled by excessive domestic heating and subsequent nudity, I see something extremely sexy in a woman who's smoking.

“Absurd?”

“Absurd, eccentric, thoughtful, bitter and sweet...” Angie slowly counts the adjectives on her fingertips and I can't say she didn't get them right. This means she knows there's something bitter, and dark inside me. Maybe that's why she doesn't trust me completely yet.

“Eccentric uh?” a devilish grin appears on my face.

“Oh well...”

“Said the girl who tried to open a bottle with a shoe outside the window”

“Ok this is gonna be another of those recurring jokes you're gonna use to take the piss out of me for the rest of my life, isn't it?”

“Yes... after all, I can't make fun of you for your nights out with Meg to pick up guys anymore, I have to find a substitute”

“Really? And why?” she adjust herself better on the couch to sit up and for a minute I'm afraid I'll lose touch with her legs, but she still keeps them over mine.

“Because you're not having those anymore” I hold her by the hips as she puts her hands on my shoulders.

“Are you sure?”

“You don't need to”

“So can I hang up my infallible pick up techniques now?”

“Sure, now that you picked me up”

“How I made it is still unknown...”

“With your infallible pick up techniques, of course”

“That are? Not doing absolutely anything?” as if she needed to do something to have me fall for her. I lay down on the couch and pull her with me.

“Being yourself and not doing absolutely anything, the best way”

“If you say so...” she mutters and she tries to sit back up but I hold her tight and prevent her from sneaking away. At this point, also not to slip and fall off the couch, she has to more or less straddle me.

“It worked with me, can't you see that?” I grab her as she tries to wriggle free, I hold her tighter and slip my hand under her t-shirt, to caress her back.

“Eddie! Come on, let me sit up...”

“Why?”

“Because I'm hurting you...”

“Shut up!”

“It's true and you know it”

“You can't crush me, I can feel you got all the weight on your knees and arms”

“Because I wanna spare you asphyxiation?”

“Cut.The.Crap.” I decide I'm gonna do this the hard way and my hand sneaks across her back towards her armpit so I can tickle her, but she gives up long before I get there. Mental note: Angie is very ticklish “Oh, that's better!”

“Hahaha stop it!”

“Much better” I repeat when we find ourselves basically nose to nose and then I stop torturing her, close my eyes and breathe in silence with her for five minutes, I think, waiting for something... that never comes. Angie removes her hands from my hair, where she had casually buried them in the heat of the moment. Then she holds on to the pillows, pulls herself up and backs away from me.

“I'll turn off the tv” Angie stretches out her hand to get the remote from the table where I put, then sits back down at my feet. I take a deep breath and sit up too.

“I'd better go” I'm about to stand up but Angie, with a quick move, grabs me by the arm and pulls me back down on the couch.

“WHERE ARE YOU GOING?”

“Home, so I'll let you sleep” I pinch her cheek and try to stand up again but Angie doesn't let me.

“But I don't wanna sleep! Well, I mean... you can sleep with me, you know, you can crash at my place”

“Even tonight?”

“Yes, why? Don't you want to?” Angie's torturing the hemline of her t-shirt again and if she tugs at it some more, it'll become a tunic.

“Sure I want to. I thought that it may be a problem”

“A problem about what?”

“I don't know, because of Meg?”

“Meg won't be here, she's sleeping over at her friend's”

“But she'll be back tomorrow morning, right? What if she sees me again? What will she think?” I'm saying it for her, not for me. If she sees me and does the math, I'll be nothing but happy.

“What will she think? Nothing. Anyway, I already told her”

“You told her?” I ask, suddenly interested and full of hope. Did she really tell someone we're a couple?

“Yeah, I told her you'd come over tonight. And that maybe you'd sleep here” hope destroyed in ten seconds. Maybe.

“And what did she say?”

“She said ok” Angie shrugs and takes the last two cakes left from the table, biting on one and handing me the other one.

“Ok? Only ok?” I take a bite too.

“Sure, what were you expecting?”

“Nothing. But... I think Meg knows then”

“Sure she knows, I've just told you! Why all these problems all of a sudden?”

“No, I mean she knows... about us...” a second bite and no more cake.

“NO! I... I didn't tell her anything”

“Angie... it's the 4th time we sleep together in a week, I don't think you need to tell her. If she's not stupid, she'll understand by herself.

“She knows we sleep together but she doesn't know... what... ehm... what we do” Angie eats the rest of her chocholate cake and pours herself half a glass of water to swallow it better.

“She can assume it, I guess” seriously, Meg's assumptions surely go well beyond what actually happens between Angie and I in reality.

“Meg has no trouble to say what she thinks: if she had suspects, she'd have openly told me”

“You should do it”

“What?”

“Openly tell her, about us”

“WHAT? WHY?” why the hell is she so scared?

“'Cause she's a friend to you and you have to start somewhere, don't you?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Listen, we already talked about it, do you wanna keep it secret? Ok, I'm in. But you could take things gradually, with no big collective announcements, just by telling it to one single person. And why not your best friend?”

“I don't know, maybe because she's totally incapable of keeping a secret?” Angie looks at me as if I was stupid and rolls her eyes.

“Well, that's so much better, isn't it. We only need to tell Meg, then she'll get the word out for us” I try and hug her and she slaps my chest in response.

“Fuck you, Eddie”

“Let's go to bed?”

“Mmm... ok”

[mrsren]

september, hours

Hours, longest wip, or completed fic? 

Oh, it’s Wanderlust without a doubt. I’m a little scared if I ever write another that goes this long. 

September, share a comment of review which still warms your heart? 

There are so many, but I hunted for one to share and this is it. From The Story of Us , written for Frumpologist on her birthday. This is her comment, and I’m not sure if tumblr is going to break it up. But I visit it every time I question myself over whether I’m a real writer or not. Keep reading added because it’s so long. 

Let’s talk for a moment about how utterly BEAUTIFULLY you’ve set this story!! Fall, the leaves crunching around her boots, the way Hermione thinks back over her friendship and feelings for Theo. It sets such a tone, and I’m like YASSSSSSS PINING HERE WE GO. And I ADORE friends-to-lovers and pining and I’m D Y I N G I’m so excited!!!!

Hermione not speaking her feelings and expecting Theo to just KNOW is SUCH a me trait, LOL It’s like you KNOW ME. I’m already relating to Hermione and I can’t even. I’m so fucking pumped for this and I’m only a few paragraphs in and I cannot believe I’m so lucky as to have you write Themione for meeeeeeee!!!

A party. A P A R T Y. \o/ YES GIVE IT TO MEEEEEEEEEE. Shhhhh, Hermione, it’s okay, go to the party!! MY HEART. But god, I love the familiarity between the two; that Theo knows there’s something wrong with her even if she won’t tell him what it is. I love that he presses her, and that she pushes back. The banter even with the F2L trope is MY LIFE. I can’t flail about this more -- I’m IN PIECES. Also, Hermione’s propensity to avoid everyone at all costs is SO relatable to me; I’m an avoider by nature and it just rings true. I’m having feelings, leave me alone. LOL SO good.

OMFG MY HEART WHEN SHE SAYS I don’t want the term to end! FUCK I’M DYING, MY HEART. I WANT TO WRAP HER IN A HUG. “AND THEN THERE’S YOU” OHHHHHHH MAN THE FEELS, I’M A WRECK, IT’S PERFECT KELSEY OMG. I love that there’s so much at play here, between leaving and growing up and then her love of Theo. GOD. It’s BRILLIANT.

And Pansy. PANSY. You’ve managed to freaking NAIL her and oddly, I’m like IN for Dransy?! YES. I’ll SHIP IT.

Okay. Let’s talk about how perfectly canon you’ve made Hermione. She’s filling her time by helping Ron and Harry with their applications. It’s SUCH a Hermione move!! I also love how everyone is pressuring her to tell Theo. Like EVERYONE KNOWS and they’re just these two numpties that ignore what’s clearly right in front of them and it’s my F A V O R I T E. AND NOT NEARLY AS FIT AS IS RIGHT. I MEAN. MICHAEL IS NO THEO. NO ONE IS THEO. THEO IS LIFE. OMG. FOREARMS AND VEINS AND BROAD SHOULDERS, MY TRIFECTA OF DROOL.

M I C H A E L HAS A HARD CHEST AND NEARLY GAVE HER A CONCUSSION. WHY AM I IN FOR THIS?! I AM INNNNNNN. Oh man THEO IS GOING TO BE A WRECK. I NEED IT!!! You’re a freaking wizard. And my god, I love that they’re writing letters to the next heads about their time as Heads. I also want to know who the previous heads were, because I could ship it maybe. LOL STOP ME I’m a TERROR. Okay. MOST OPTIMAL POSITION FOR SHAGGING IN THE BATHTUB. DEAD. That guy is my kinda Head. LOL OH gosh, there’s not a thing about this story that I don’t LOVE. Ahhhhh, man, Theo. SHUT UP AND KISS HER DAMMIT.

I really, really adore how you’ve created this sense of time passing, and nostalgia, all while the story is taking place in a short period of time. It’s masterful, actually, how you’ve managed to make this one shot insight into their lives feel like it spans their entire time at Hogwarts. And honestly I shouldn’t be sitting here excited for a chat with Draco, but I AM. Best Friend Draco Malfoy is my favorite Theo Trope. Because they are so brotherly and I adore the bromance and I am HERE for Malfoy bickering and telling Hermione to pull her head out of her arse.

OMG Theo gave Michael detention, LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooof course he did!!!! Hahahahha, I LOVE IT. And that Draco has to point out that Theo is jealous -- omg, did he really insult The Grey Lady to her face?! LOL Theooooooooooooooooooo. You kill me.

HE TOLD MALFOY IN FIRST YEAR THAT HE WANTED TO MARRY HERMIONE SOMEDAY OH MY GOD MY HEART I AM NOT OKAY I THINK I JUST DIED AND MY HEARRRRRRRT HOLY EFFFFFFFFF. I even asked him if he was sure when you had buckteeth F U C K ME I LOVE THIS AND I’M IN A GLASS CASE OF EMOTION.

They are going to prank Ron?! HERE FOR IT. AHHHHHH. I am in for a classic Hermione-Draco Mess Around. YES!!

I’m crying. Hermione watching Harry dance and saying that she wasn’t sure Harry knew what dancing was reminds me of the worst sort of white suburban dad dancing ever. Also, the little detail that Ron had no idea that Hermione’d ever been drunk struck me as super powerful. I love that they share these things outside of The Golden Trio; it really brings a feel of intimacy to the whole relationship, and it’s incredibly well done.

Theo found her at the party. I repeat. Theo found her at the party and his breath is in her ear and his fingers are at the small of her back and it’s like YOU GET ME and what I NEEEEED in romance. BAH, the little touches!!!! I’m MELTING. Oh, damnit Hermione, shhhhhh. He loves you and just… let it happen. LOL I love how she’s her own worst enemy sometimes. She really has a mouth on her, and poor Theo should know better.

S P I N T H E B U T T E R B E E R yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!!!!!

DID SOMEONE SAY RON KISSED HARRY?! I s c r e e c h e d. IN FOR IT.

GOD BLESS IT KELSEY NOT BLAISE. ALL THESE LITTLE TOUCHES AND THEN SHE KISSES BLAISE AND GARGH. I LOVE IT. I AM HERE FOR IT. MY HEART IS LEAPING AND CRASHING AND THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER.

OH GOD RON YOU BUFFOON. YOU CAN’T JUST OUT IT LIKE THAT OMG. omg omg omg omg. My HEART. Poor Theo!! And Hermione!! Now is not the time to be drunker than hell. EEEEEEEEEEEE. Breathles, that’s what she was. ME THE FRICK TOO. OH MAN WHAT A FIRST KISSSSSSSSSSSSSS. I AM BREATHLESS TOOOOOOOO,

OH MY EVER LOVING DEITY IN ALL THE UNIVERSE WHEN HE SAID ‘SAY IT AGAIN’ I LOST IT AND I THINK I’M CRYING I’M SO HAPPY. AH GOD, IT’S G L O R I O U S. OH MY GOSH, THE SHEER EMOTION OF IT ALL. And they’re off to make Sober Ups. LOLOL Ah, I love it. This is just the freaking best. YOU CLEVER LITTLE WITCH YOU.

Oh the vulnerability after the potion is so perfect. That they had to ask, to make sure, everything was still the same. It’s what I LIVE for in this trope. It’s so perfect. I just. I don’t know what I ever did to have a friend so wonderful and talented as you, but I’m so pleased that past me found all these stories and then fangirled so spectacularly and that it led to this amazing friendship. I love you so much!!!

S M U T. HOLY HECK. *FANS SELF* I LOVE THEIR FIRST TIME!! I love how much Theo loves her!! I love how she rakes her nails down her back and that it’s frantic and it’s years of bottled emotions and he cleans her after and OH MY GOD HE’S GOING TO KILL DRACO, LOLOLOL God all of the feelings of jealousy and the pining all brought full circle just. This story is just so perfect. SO. SO. Perfect.

Thank you, my darling friend, from the very depths of this icy heart of mine. I’m so lucky to call you friend, and I’m unbelievably touched that this story is for me, because I’m going to read it alllll the fucking time.

[bastardnev]

My King

i dealt with nev losing the title the only way i know how -- through ANGSTY FIC

also shoutout to @cruisingforcruiserweights for being A+++, im already difficult enough to understand past 12 AM on a GOOD night, but last night was just...... A Lot

(crossposted from ao3)

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: World Wrestling Entertainment, Professional Wrestling Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Wade Barrett/Pac | Adrian Neville Characters: Wade Barrett, Pac | Adrian Neville Additional Tags: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, or.... happy-ISH, listen it's as happy as a fic with a sad neville can be, Kayfabe Compliant, even tho wade being around is kinda AGAINST kayfabe but shhhhhh Summary: Wade helps Neville deal with losing the Cruiserweight title. Set during the 8/14/17 edition of Raw.

Wade felt his heart drop when he saw the referee count to three.

Never did he imagine that that night's episode of Raw would end up this way. Neville had been so confident, so sure going into his match with Tozawa that he would come out on top. He the was the King after all, and there was no damn way that royalty would fall to a peasant. Wade remembered how Neville was holding the belt on his shoulder almost lovingly, like it was one of the most important things in the world to him -- hell, it was one of the most important things to him. He had no intention to ever lose it.

Fate had other plans, clearly.

Wade wasn't even sure what to think after he heard the bell ring, his mind barely processing the sight of Tozawa being lifted on to Titus's shoulders in celebration. People around him were celebrating and cheering, some of Tozawa's fellow cruiserweights heading over to greet him and congratulate him on the big win, but Wade was completely lost. Had had no idea how he should feel.

Christ, and if he was dealing with this anguish, he couldn't even begin to imagine how Neville felt in that moment. His whole world has suddenly come crashing down around him all because he got a little overconfident and tried to hit a Red Arrow. Neville was too damn sure of himself, too damn cocky. Wade had told him before that he needed to slow down, but he never listened, and it ended up costing him greatly in the end. He bought into his own hype and ended up losing one of the greatest things to have ever happened to him.

But now wasn't the time for any "I told you so's". Right now, Wade was dead set on doing whatever he could to help him.

Wade immediately began to search the hallways, trying to think of all the places where Neville could have possibly gone. He wouldn't have gone to the locker room since there were too many people (who would all no doubt have some smartass remarks to make about the 'fall of the King'). Likewise, he wouldn't have gone to catering either. Even if no one would say anything there, the looks that he would be getting from everyone would be too much to handle. Wade cursed himself for signing with a company filled with so many inconsiderate bastards.

He stopped dead in his tracks a few minutes later when he caught sight of a few backstage workers crowding around a person. A little more investigating revealed that that person was Neville, who wasn't even reacting to whatever it was that he was being told. It didn't look like he was being harassed, but Wade could tell just by Neville's posture and his fists clenching and unclenching that he was close to breaking down. Fake well wishes coming from people who Neville barely even knew was the last thing that he needed at that moment, and Wade knew that he needed to step him, a surge of anger rising in him.

"Hey, hey, back off, would you?!" Wade stormed up to them and shoved them away, defensively putting an arm in front of Neville. "He's not interested in whatever the hell you have to say. Go on now, get out of here!" Wade shooed them off.

It was only after they had left that Wade turned to look at Neville, whose eyes were still glued to the ground. Wade gently rested a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to finally look up. Wade could see that his eyes were slowly filling up with tears, and his grip on his shoulder tightened. He had only ever seen Neville cry one other time, and that was at Wrestlemania after he retained. Those were tears of joy. These were anything but.

Wade looked around and saw that there were still a few people loitering about. He knew that they needed to get away. "Hey," he started softly, taking Neville's face in his hands. "Let's go somewhere else, yeah? Somewhere more private." He took hold of Neville's hand, his own being gripped almost unnaturally tight as he led him over to an empty corner of the arena.

He let go of his hand when they arrived at some equipment crates. Neville took note of a gap between one of the crates and the wall, and he sauntered over to it, leaning against the wall and slowly sliding down until he was sitting. He pulled his knees up close to his chest, burying his face in them. Wade saw that the gap was big enough to fit the two of them and he sat down next to him. It was eerily quiet, so the sound of Neville's choked sobs seemed even louder, even more mournful, and Wade's heart hurt in his chest.

Slowly, Wade wrapped one of his arms around Neville's shoulders, holding him close. He could feel that Neville was shaking, hard, and his hold on him tightened. Wade wanted to kick the ass of whoever the hell decided to do this match tonight instead of at Summerslam, where it was originally scheduled. Neville was suddenly told out of the blue right as the show started that he would be defending, and he had hardly any time to prepare himself. He was so sure that he was going to win still, but he had no time to come up with an effective strategy. He was put in an unfair position from the very beginning.

Neither of them said anything for a long while, Wade ultimately being the one to break the silence. "I know you'll win it back," he said. "You're the King. You can do anything."

"I can't fucking retain, that's for damn sure," Neville replied, his face still down. "I'm no King."

"Don't stay that," Wade gently admonished him. "You've been busting your ass for months and helped the fans start to see the cruiserweights as important. You've been carrying the damn division on your back. You're definitely the King."

"How can I be the King if I... don't have my title?" Neville hesitated saying the second half of his sentence, like the realization that he was no longer champion was hitting him all over again.

"The title isn't what made you a king. You don't need a damn purple belt to tell people that you're important -- people already know that through your actions. You've more than proven your worth."

"But I want it." Neville lifted his face, his eyes puffy and red. "I don't care if I don't 'need' it, I want it." His fists clenched. "I'm invoking my rematch clause for Sunday. I'm gonna get it back even if it fucking kills me."

"I'll be watching. And I'll be right there to congratulate you after you win it back." Wade smiled reassuringly, giving Neville's shoulder a small squeeze.

Neville swallowed, resting his head against the wall. The cool stone felt good against his burning face, but it did nothing to help with his mood. "Wade..." He asked, his voice a little shaky. "Do you think that it's... bad that I lost the title now? Right when I was so close to two hundred days?"

"You really were close to that milestone, weren't you..." Great. Another reason for Wade to be pissed off at management. They forced Neville to retain right when he was so close to hitting such an important mark. They knew there was a chance he could lose, and they did it anyway.

"I couldn't hold on to it for three more fucking days..." He went to put his face back down, but Wade stopped him by cupping his cheek.

"But you held it for one hundred and ninety seven days. You didn't hit two hundred, yes, but you made it that far. Look at the other guys who've been champion -- TJ, Kendrick, Rich... They weren't champ for even half the amount of time that you were. You are so goddamn amazing for keeping this up for so long."

"Wade..."

"I am so fucking proud of you, you know that? And I always will be. You went from someone who no one cared about to one of the most feared guys on the whole roster. You truly are spectacular, and you're always going to be the King -- my King. Title or no title."

At that moment, Neville wordlessly leaned in and pressed his lips to Wade's, whose eyes shot open wide in shock. It took him barely any time to recover, and he kissed him back, his hand sliding up to rest on the back of Neville's head. The kiss was sloppy, desperate, but they didn't stop or pull away. They couldn't.

When they finally did separate, Wade let out a small, awed breath, and he noticed that fresh tears had started rolling down Neville's cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumb, offering him a small smile.

Neville took a deep breath, resting his head on Wade's shoulder and saying, "I... I need to go lie down."

"Go wash up and get changed, okay?" Wade stood up and offered his hand to help Neville to his feet. The show was almost over. In the time it would take Neville to gather himself, it would be time for them to leave. "Then we can go back to the hotel together."

"I'd like that." Neville took his hand and slowly got up. "Wanna walk with me?"

"Of course." Wade pulled Neville into his side. Wade wouldn't dream of leaving Neville alone, not when he was in such a vulnerable state. Not when there were people around who wouldn't think twice about messing with him while he's hurting this much. No one was going to hurt his King.

No one.