"Are yeh alright, fella?" Stephen Farrelly gave Drew Galloway a friendly slap on the shoulder and tried to look into his friend's downturned face. Drew gave him a strained smile and nodded. 3MB had just had another inglorious burial at the hands of the Celtic Vipers, or Team Shandy as they were sometimes known, and Stephen was checking in on his fellow Celt's morale. Even though they had followed much the same path, from the UK independent circuit to FCW and now to the WWE's main roster, the Irishman's career had flourished where the Scotsman's had tanked. On top of that Drew had suffered the heartbreaking loss of his mother as well as a lengthy wrist injury, and Stephen had done everything in his power to help keep his friend of many years' spirits up.
Drew himself could be highly mercurial, one minute full of Celtic fighting spirit and the next in the pits of despair. He was frequently on the verge of throwing in the towel with the WWE but then he would remember that he'd worked almost half his life to get where he was, and he wasn't about to give that up. Plus he had the support of not only Stephen but Stu Bennett, who had come through the same circuit they had, only coming to the WWE slightly later. There was also Heath Miller, Stu's NXT comrade and Drew's 3MBandmate who was like a brother to him these days. If it wasn't for the support these and other superstars had given him on the road Drew would have ripped up his contract long since; but the closest of all was Stephen.
Stephen and Drew had travelled the British Isles together, performing. They had swapped the Irish Whip Championship between them. They'd shared homes, hotel rooms, cars, life stories, endless miles, hopes and dreams with each other. Together, they'd made it to the Holy Land of the WWE, and they swore that they would do everything in their power to ensure that they both would make it to the very top. Drew made Intercontinental Champion within a few months and they were delighted. Stephen made WWE and World Heavyweight champion within two years but Drew's career hit the skids. The Irishman played the game, getting into Paul Levesque's good books and becoming firm friends with the Chairman's son-in-law, and that certainly did not hinder his progress up the ladder. Drew, however, was more at home with the troops on the ground, and was well liked by the other superstars, but they had little say in who won titles.
Slowly the gulf between the two began to grow, and they saw less and less of each other. It was nothing either consciously meant, it was simply a matter of time constraints and ranking on the card. Mid-carders did soundbites on WWE Inbox for the YouTube channel, while those at the top of the card did talk shows. It meant that their paths didn't cross so much and when they did catch sight of each other Stephen and Drew were often self-conscious of the disparity. Drew's way of dealing with it was to quietly withdraw and any attempts by Stephen to try and strike up a conversation were usually met with shy hesitancy. Tonight was no different. Drew looked on the verge of slinking off again when Stephen decided that enough was enough.
"Hey- listen, fella. You an' me haven't had a quiet pint fer ages. Whaddy'a say? Just you an' me?" Stephen gave Drew a semi-pleading look and the Scotsman hesitated. It had been ages, he couldn't remember the last time they'd spent any time alone together, in public or private. To be honest it left a hole in the pit of his stomach to even look at Stephen these days. Drew swallowed his reservations, smiled and nodded.
Stephen's grin split his pale face. "Great. I'll look yeh up after the show's over." He gave his friend's shoulder another couple of slaps and walked to his dressing room. Drew watched the Celtic Warrior walk away. His face fell as he thought about how much things had changed between them since they'd come to the WWE. They used to be thick as thieves, living practically in each other's pockets; they'd been as good as family. Now, Stephen was on top of the world and Drew was happy for him, but it seemed like he'd been left behind in all the excitement. Sure, Drew had plenty of other friends but none of them were Stephen; they'd shared too much, been on too many adventures together and knew too many of each other's secrets to be anything other than the best of friends.
Drew's fingers played with the bandana hanging from his belt. There was one secret that no one but them knew. That no one but them would ever know, or could ever know. Anyone finding out would mean an end to both their careers. Drew had to be careful around Stephen, because he could betray that secret all too easily. He was too easy to read. His feelings were always too near the surface, especially now when he was in turmoil over his career and the loss of his mother. Maybe he should leave the WWE, and get away from Stephen. Or maybe he should just tell Stephen to stay away from him. It wouldn't be difficult now that they barely saw each other anyway. Perhaps that was the answer. He resolved to give Stephen the ultimatum when they met up for drinks later that night.
After the show was over Stephen showered, changed into street clothes and went to Drew's changing room to head out. He walked in to find the tall Scot talking to Yuvraj Dhesi. The two Band members turned as the Irishman walked in and he nodded at them both with a smile. Drew said "I'll catch you later, Raj", grabbed his bag and the two Celts walked side-by-side to the parking lot.
"Where's yer car, mate?" Stephen asked.
Drew looked at Stephen sideways, then turned his head, embarrassed. "Um, I got a lift in with Heath and Raj. We share a rental."
Stephen gave himself a mental kick. He put on a friendly show "No worries, fella. We'll call fer a taxi." He nabbed a gopher and asked them to arrange a cab for the two of them. The runner got on his radio and the arrangement was made. The two superstars left their bags with the gopher and were soon picked up by an exclusive car hire firm and taken to a bar near to their hotel. They ordered a pint each and found a table where they could sit as unobserved as possible.
"Cheers, fella!" Stephen held up his pint and Drew clinked his glass against it before they brought their respective lagers to their lips. After an appreciative sigh from both Stephen leaned on his elbows as Drew peered into his glass as if scrying for his fortune. The Irishman let his friend ponder for a moment before saying "Anything interesting in there?"
Drew looked up as if he'd forgotten where he was then gave an embarrassed laugh. "Sorry, mate. I was miles away." Stephen smiled but Drew's face became tinged with sadness. The Irishman sighed.
"Look, Andrew. I know we haven't had much chance te speak since yer mam's funeral, and even then I didn't get te spend as much time with yer as I wanted." Drew's face fell and his eyes began to shine as tears threatened. Stephen knew how proud his friend was and how much he hated to show emotion, especially in public, so he hurried on: "That's why I asked ye fer a pint. We don't see each other enough these days and I want te make tha' right." Stephen looked earnestly into his friend's face, who was now returning his stare with a wide-eyed look. Why does he look so surprised? thought Stephen. Have I really been neglecting him that badly? I've left this too long. I need to make this right. The Irishman leaned in closer and waited for his friend to answer.
Drew was in turmoil. Stephen wanted them to be close again, but that would be testing Drew's resolve. He wasn't sure he could trust himself, not at the moment. So much was going on, he was an emotional wreck. The one thing he wanted most in the world was to put his head on Stephen's broad shoulder and cry his heart out but he didn't dare. He wanted Stephen to put his strong arms around him and tell him that everything was going to be all right. He wanted Stephen they way they used to be, they way they had been those nights back in Ireland…
A flood of memories suddenly overwhelmed Drew in vivid detail, and the emotions they brought up in him could not be suppressed. Without warning Drew's face crumpled, his eyes brimmed with tears, he dropped his head and covered his face with his hands as he began to sob uncontrollably. Stephen was around the table in a flash and took his friend around the shoulders, asking him what was wrong. The strength of Stephen's embrace, the feel of his thigh against his and the sound of his voice, so full of genuine concern, broke Drew down even further and Stephen pulled him to his feet, put his sunglasses on his face and walked him out the back door to their hotel. They made their way to Stephen's room, the Irishman effectively carrying the other by hooking Drew's arm over his shoulders and holding him by the hip. Stephen then set Drew down gently on the bed, poured out a glass of water and handed it to him as he knelt in front of him on the floor.
Drew looked down at Stephen as he took the glass and through his tears he saw the face that he'd fallen in love with so many years ago. The striking blue eyes looked up at him with such heart-melting concern. His pale face framed by that fiery red hair. His pouting lips that were so soft yet could drive him to the brink of madness… Drew slowly set the cup down on the floor, and as he turned his head back towards Stephen he took his face in both his hands, leaned in and kissed him.
Stephen's body tensed at the surprising move but he did not pull away. Drew's lips were as soft as any woman's and he was a phenomenal kisser. He knew exactly how Stephen liked to be kissed and soon Drew's tongue was probing at his lips, asking for entry. Stephen opened his mouth and wrapped his tongue around Drew's, relishing in the taste that he'd not had in such a long, long time. The two wrapped their muscular arms around each other; Stephen noticed just how much bulk Drew had put on since the last time they'd been in an embrace like this. He almost matched him in mass now, where he'd previously been much more slender. Stephen threaded his fingers in Drew's long hair and pulled, drawing a groan from the Scot. If they were going to do this, Drew was going to remember who was the Top here; bulk be damned.
Stephen lifted himself from his knees and pushed Drew onto his back on the bed. He positioned himself over him and looked deeply into the younger man's eyes, giving him a hard stare. Drew's breath came in shallow and quick, looking up at Stephen with an open longing, pleading silently. Drew reached up a hand as if to cup Stephen's cheek but the Irishman snatched his wrist and brought it down to the mattress roughly, pinning it down above Drew's head. He caught his other wrist and pinned it down on the other side in a similar fashion, then straddled Drew's middle and sat on him with all his weight. The Scot had recently suffered an injury to his ribs and the position made him wince and grit his teeth, but the Irishman kept the pressure on and waited for Drew to stop squirming. Eventually, when he'd managed to lie perfectly still, Stephen moved one wrist to his other hand so that both were clasped together and he used his now free hand to unbuckle his belt. He unzipped his fly and freed his cock from his jeans. He shuffled his knees forward and turned his hips towards Drew's face. "Suck it" he said.
Drew took the semi-rigid member into his mouth as Stephen took his weight onto the hand pinning his wrists to the mattress and began thrusting his hips towards his face. He felt Stephen's cock quickly grow stiff as he sucked and licked at it, using his skill with his mouth and the innate knowledge a man has of how to work a dick. Stephen pulled out of Drew's mouth and let him lick and suck at his balls, relishing the way the sensations travelled all the way through his body. He sat back on his knees, climbed off the bed and said: "Take off yer trousers."
Drew reached down to remove the cowboy boots he was wearing first as he would not be able to pull his jeans off over them. He turned his head briefly to see Stephen move to a bedside table. Drew continued to obey his instruction, reaching for his belt and removing his jeans. He laid back on the bed, now wearing only his tee-shirt and boxers. Stephen came back around to the end of the bed with something concealed in his hand. "Since when did yer start wearing kecks, then?"
Drew smiled. For many years he'd made a habit of going commando; apparently Stephen had expected him to still be doing it. He shrugged. "Around the time I got married, I think."
Stephen frowned. Drew's marriage had been a disaster, and he'd been glad to see the back of that bitch. Her getting herself fired had been a blessing, and Stephen gave a quick prayer of thanks for it. "Well get them off. Yer no good te me with those in the way." Drew complied, and threw the offending item on the floor. Stephen looked at him with a stern face. "Turn over. Get on yer hands and knees." The younger man did as he was told and presented his perfectly formed ass towards the Irishman. Stephen admired it for a moment. He really had bulked up; the cheeks were fuller and rounder than ever and Stephen reached a hand out to massage one, feeling the rock-like muscle beneath the smooth skin. He bent down and placed a kiss on the opposite cheek, then took a deep bite, causing Drew to jump forward. Stephen gave him a sharp slap on the ass and pulled him back by the hip before bending down to lick and nip at his cheeks while exploring the crack with his fingers.
Drew reached up and brought a pillow to his face to bite into, and then used it to muffle his moans as Stephen's hand moved between Drew's legs to play with his balls and cock. Drew was torn between wanting to push his hips back towards the hand that was jerking him off and away from the teeth that were nipping at his ass. Eventually Stephen lifted his head and reached for the bottle he'd previously been hiding in his hand. He spread Drew's cheeks and pumped out some clear gel onto the tight ring nestled between them. The Scot gasped at the sudden coldness but let out a low moan as Stephen began to work the gel around using the tip of his cock. Slowly but firmly, Stephen started to push and Drew felt himself open to accept the invading member.
Stephen used short back-and-forth strokes to work the gel in and gradually he managed to sheath himself fully. He then hooked one leg over Drew's and began to pump his hips with rigour. Drew cried out into the pillow to not allow anyone in the next room to hear- it would be a disaster if anyone found out about this. Of course there had been gay superstars in the past but none of them had ever been out. The States were largely homophobic and the average fan rabidly so. Many of the wrestlers were avowed Christians; to be caught with another man would be career suicide. These thoughts flitted through Drew's mind but were quickly pushed aside by the sensations Stephen was creating in him. The Irishman's thick cock pounded in and out of Drew's tight channel, flooding him not only with memories but with feelings that only Stephen could elicit. Stephen himself was working up a sweat and had his eyes closed with the effort. His face shone with the ecstasy he felt at sating a hunger long denied. He knew would not last much longer and could feel Drew falling apart beneath him so he reached around Drew's waist and took hold of his lover's cock, which was hard as iron. He rubbed his fingers in a small jerking motion over the head, massaging it with Drew's own foreskin as he fucked the Scot's ass ferociously, bringing himself to climax. He released himself with a long grunt and Drew clenched his muscles down and came in Stephen's hand, spilling his seed over the mattress. Stephen milked Drew's cock lovingly as he rocked his hips into him a few times, bending over to bury his face in the crook of Drew's shoulder.
"Ah've missed yeh so much, Drew."