Author's Notes: Alright so this idea came from that one skit from the leaked NXT promo class video. You know the one.

I'm planning on making a complete story out of this and not just a collection of one shots like my other two "stories". Why haven't I updated those? School, friends, depression, and having too many projects going on... Those are my excuses. I have almost-finished updates for them, though.

Also, as usual, this story (that I don't profit from) is about characters (that I don't own), and not the actual wrestler that play these characters. I'm not into RPS AT ALL.


It all happened way too fast. It was nighttime and Enzo was just walking along, totally innocent, when he came across this nasty-looking homeless guy. He looked as dirty as the alley he sat by and had this long-ass ginger beard and a shaved head, and oh god that jumpsuit was terrible. What a disgrace. The fucker couldn't even spell "help" correctly. Two L's, really? The guy wasn't going anywhere with his looks and obviously poor education, so, being the nice guy he is, Enzo gave the guy some tips. HE even have him some of his pocket change. The next thing he knew, an even more disgusting-looking guy came up to them. He had a bushy beard and a giant mess of black hair and wore a wifebeater and jeans that have probably never been washed.

"Are you bothering little brother?"

Enzo would have made a quip about how this man was no "little" brother, but this new guy towered over him and was, well, scary as hell… So all his usual bravado and smartassedness stayed way deep down. Honestly, he was sweating already and his legs were trembling a little. Just a little. Very very little. He wasn't some kinda pussy, okay.

"Whoa, I wasn't bothering him."

His response wasn't calming the man down at all. He got closer to him than he would have ever wanted, looming over him. Usually in these situations Enzo would stand up tall and give him a piece of his mind, bust him in the lip for getting into his personal bubble, but shit man, this dude was scarier than all hell. He shrank down and stumbled back.

"What was that, Jersey boy?"

Shit. How did he know him? A flair of shock burned through his gut, through his limbs, before he remembered just how thick his accent was. That must have been it.

"He needed help so I was offering a few tips, that's all, man." His voice came out smaller and more panicked than he liked.

He guy grabbed the front of his shirt and Enzo tried to yank himself away but he ended up stumbling back and falling on his ass on the pavement. His face was struck by the man's large hand, and Enzo tried not to shriek in pain. He gingerly held his nose. It stung so bad.

"Take off your pants."

"I… What?"

A cuff across the top of his head ended any more protest from him. He hooked his thumbs under the waistband of his sweatpants and wriggled his way out of them. As much as he wanted to just keep his eyes on the ground, he just couldn't look away from that man's intense black eyes. It was like they were burning holes into him. He could feel the sweat rolling down his hairline and the small of his back. He was probably stuttering about how he was just trying to help the guy's brother, his mouth working independently of his brain.

"Get on your knees"

Enzo wasn't really processing the demand. His mouth was still working, and his mind was occupied with a grey droning static. His mind was miles away from his body at this point, like the man's stare forced his soul out for a while.

"On your knees!"

He was pulled up by a fist in his hair, and he snapped back to reality. He got on his knees like he was told. He was pantsless and his head was at the same level as this man's dick. Oh fuck, he's seen this movie before. A new wave of terror swept through him, cold and sweaty and nauseous. A couple more slaps hit him, and he shut his eyes tight.

Then there was a long pause. He opened his eyes and the man was gone. His first instinct to start running, to get out of there as fast as his legs could carry him, but then he heard the laughter. Dark, cruel, from behind. It froze him. It was the "little brother", wasn't it? He managed to turn his head enough to see him. Standing up, he was so much bigger than Enzo would have thought a few minutes ago. At that moment, this was the biggest guy he had ever seen in his entire life, which said a lot given his profession. He never felt so weak, so small.

A giant hand gripped him by the hair and pulled hard. Enzo fell back on his ass and the pulling continued. He was being dragged into the abysmal alleyway. He reached up and dug his nails into the hand pulling him, but the man's hand apparently had no feeling in it and the grip stayed as vice-like as ever. Tears welled up in his eyes and ran down his cheeks in streams before he could even attempt to hold it back. He never cried. He screamed and screamed, calling out for help. The friction from the pavement tugged down his underwear some, exposing more skin to be scraped and scratched by the filthy asphalt. He tried kicking to get back on his feet, or to get the guy to stop or slow down… Or maybe he just couldn't control what his body was doing because he was so fucking scared. No, no, he was definitely was trying to get out of there by doing that; Enzo never wanted to be the type to just scream and cry and squirm. Enzo Amore is by no means sawft, no way. No matter the reason, kicking didn't get him anything but deeper scrapes on his back and large purple bruises on his legs that he would discover later.

And then the dragging stopped. The hand let go. His fell back and his head crashed against the pavement.

"Hold him."

The ginger crouched to his level and wrapped his python-like arms around his chest, pinning his arms behind him, pressing his chest to Enzo's back. His voice was already breaking from all the screaming, sometimes cutting out to just a hiss. Did no one hear him? It was a Friday night in a neighborhood filled with bars, so of course it was loud and rowdy, but even then this lack of response was disconcerting. No one was gonna help him, huh?

The raven-haired man squatted down to meet Enzo's wide, panicked eyes. All he could see was a silhouette and those eyes that were somehow blacker than the darkness of the alley.

"Shut him up."

He was headbutted from behind, which made him gasp, and one of those giant hands wrapped itself over his mouth. The other arm coiled around him even tighter than before, squeezing the air out of him. What air did enter his lungs he had very little control over. It all just came in and went out way too quickly. It felt like all the blood in his body was being squeezed into his head and all he could hear was his heartbeat, the huffing breath of the man behind him, and what sounded like a tumultuous ocean full of angry bees.

A fist hit him right in the gut, and he clenched his jaw tightly trying to keep in the contents of his stomach. Another fist landed right on his nose before he could even try to recover. Tears flooded from his eyes and he could feel blood bubbling from his nose as he moaned and cried through it. God, he hoped it wasn't broken. He was too good-looking for a broken nose to compromise anything, but still… God, he hoped it didn't break. He could barely breathe through the pain and the blood that poured through his only available airway. His head was vibrating and he felt like he was losing his balance while walking on a tightrope or something. The brickwork of the wall behind the stranger warped and wobbled.

"Whoa whoa whoa, let him breathe. Don't want 'im passing out on us."

His mouth was released, and he greedily sucked in fresh air. The figure in front of him reached out and stroked his cheek, going "shhh shhh shhh" at him. The arms behind him adjusted to allow him more room to breathe. The hand moved down from his face to his chest, his stomach. Oh fuck, no. This was about going to go Deliverance real fast, even faster than before, wasn't it? He was suddenly very aware of the very large, very warm body pressing itself very close to his very vulnerable self, and those hands stroking him and that shushing sure as hell weren't calming him down any.

"If… If… You're gonna…" He was breathing heavily… Not sobbing. Definitely not sobbing.

"Hmm?"

"If you're gonna fuck me, just… God… Don't hurt me, man. Please… God… Just don't…" His heavy breathing stopped him in between words.

"Oh… No, you have this wrong… We'd never… Not outside the family. We just wanted to rough you up…" The guy laughed, but he also seemed genuinely offended by this insinuation.

Enzo could have cried from how great the wave of relief that washed over him was. He would have crumpled and fallen over if it weren't for the arms holding him up.

"… Even if something tells me you want it…"

The man tugged at his elastic waistband jokingly. This made the fabric move over the hard ridge underneath and alerted Enzo to its presence. His gut lurched. When did that come up?

"What? No…"

"We'll just let you be."

The arms let him go and he fell onto the asphalt. The two men walked away. Later, his sweatpants were thrown into the alley and landed a few feet away from his legs.

He wasn't robbed. He wasn't killed. He wasn't fucked. He counted these blessings, but that now fading erection in his pants worried him so goddamn much. What the hell was that for?