Roderick Strong paused as he passed and clapped a hand on Chris' shoulder. "Sorry about your chest."
Chris smiled. "Yeah, that'd be a lot more believable if you weren't grinning like a tool, asshole. Sorry I kicked your face off."
Alex walked back through the curtain, having spent some time socialising with the fans and letting the rats coo over him, also still in his ring gear. In his case, Chris knew it was because bending to take his pants off hurt, and he was putting it off. Despite the pain Chris knew he was in, he seemed to have a gleeful excitement bubbling just below the surface. "Hey Roddy. Not gloating about breaking every capillary in my partner's chest, I hope."
"Everything I know about gloating, I learned from the best," Roderick said, indicating Alex with one hand. "I need beer and bitches. Catch you later." He strode off through the curtain, leaving Chris and Alex alone in the makeshift locker room.
Alex dropped into the chair next to Chris, wincing slightly at the pain in his back but brushing it aside. "Man, he beat the shit out of you."
"You're telling me? Look at this mess." Chris gestured to his torso. "Good match though, I thought. Have to wait and see when the DVD comes out, I guess. And I'm dreading hearing the commentary, because the only time Chuck's stopped sniggering since was during his own match." Having your match commentated by Chuck Taylor was any wrestler's nightmare. It'd be hilarious, but God only knew what he'd say about you.
"Yeah. So..." Alex reached across and slapped Chris' chest, smirking at Chris' pained hiss. "You were watching my match."
Chris glared, rubbing his hand gently over his abused skin. "Or I was watching Hero's match."
"Technically possible. Not what happened though, you were totally watching my match."
Smiling, Chris leaned back and crossed his legs, resting his right ankle on his left knee. "Well duh, of course I was watching your match."
"That's kind of sweet. So what do you reckon?" As nonchalant as he tried to sound, his eagerness for Chris' approval was ridiculously transparent.
"It was a great match. You and Chris pulled off some lovely sequences. There were moments when you were moving a little gingerly, but someone would have to be really familiar with your wrestling to be able to tell that. Like I said, great match."
"I thought it went pretty good." Alex lowered his voice, although there was no one else there to overhear him. "I worry sometimes that I'm overthinking things because of this stupid herniated discs thing, and that my matches are going to look stilted."
Chris rolled his eyes. "Dude, I don't think you could have a bad match if you tried. All that stuff Hero said about you in the ring? Absolutely true. You should know that by now."
Alex beamed, and the tips of his ears turned very slightly red. "Thanks."
Chris shook his head in a long-suffering kind of way; Alex had always put way too much stock in his opinion. It was flattering, after a fashion, but it frustrated him that someone with as much to be proud of as Alex should be so invested in anyone else's assessment.
"So why were you watching me?"
"Come on, man. All the hours of tape we've watched... you know I'm a sucker for a great technical match. Shelley vs Hero? Guaranteed classic, I'm all over that."
Alex smiled again, but Chris could have sworn he was disappointed with the answer he'd received. He saw the curtain twitching in his peripheral vision, and he looked up to see Excalibur striding through it.
"Hey guys!" Excalibur glanced down at Chris' chest. "Roddy fucked you up a treat." He made for his bag and started rooting around inside it.
"Does everybody have to bring that up? Could you people not mention the fact that I kicked that motherfucker's face off instead?"
Excalibur grinned. "We do, when we talk to him. He's taking it in good spirits though, so I think I'm going to have to bring up the shit Chuck was talking about him on commentary."
"Just about him?" Chris asked cautiously.
"Yeah, you got off pretty easy by comparison. Must be your lucky day. Apart from getting your chest caved in by Roddy, obviously." Excalibur produced his wallet triumphantly. "I'm heading to the bar. Anyone want anything?"
Alex shook his head. "Not for me. My painkillers don't react well with alcohol, and I'm due for a dose in an hour or so."
"Me either," Chris chimed in. "I think I'm just gonna have a quiet smoke on the hotel balcony."
"Of course, I could easily delay that dose for an extra hour or two if weed's on offer," Alex said hopefully, and Chris chuckled.
"Dude, at this point I always take it for granted that I'll be sharing my joints with you."
"Well, I'm getting fucking bombed on vodka," Excalibur announced happily. He wandered back out into the main hall, and Chris and Alex were alone again.
Alex shifted in his seat, grimacing as he reached down to take off his kickpads. Chris watched him struggle for a moment, all the more amazed at how well Alex had performed in the ring in light of how much pain even the smallest movement caused him once the adrenaline had worn off, before leaning over and tugging them off for him. Alex shot him a grateful smile.
Chris leaned back again. "Shouldn't you be out there picking up a rat by now?"
Alex shrugged. "Can't be bothered. I mean, I like casual, meaningless sex as much as the next guy, but sometimes it's not what you want."
"I'm pretty sure they can revoke your man card for saying things like that."
"You know what I mean though. Sometimes shit just hurts and you're feeling sorry for yourself, and you want to know the person sucking you off gives a crap about that, you know?"
Looking down at the floor, Chris nodded. "Yeah. It's not what I want at the moment either. Once in a while, you need to make a connection."
"Exactly." Alex raised his hand to his mouth and started chewing at the corner of his fingernail, and they sat in silence for a minute or two before Chris spoke again.
"Of course, another reason I watched your match was to make sure you didn't hurt yourself."
Although Alex tried to hide it, looking down in an attempt at nonchalance, there was no mistaking his pleasure at Chris' statement. "I'm okay, man."
"I know. But if you'd hurt yourself any more out there, you wouldn't have told me unless it was something serious. Watching you is the only way to be sure."
"You don't need to worry about me. I know how to keep myself safe." Alex looked back up at Chris. "I like it that you do though. It's sweet."
"Hey, what are friends for, right?"
There it was again, disappointment that Alex tried unsuccessfully to keep off his face. "Right. So we're just getting a cab straight back to the hotel?"
"If you don't mind, yeah. I don't really want to do anything else tonight. I'm whacked. Literally." Chris pointed at his abused chest.
"Works for me. I guess I'd better fight my way out of the rest of my gear and put some proper clothes on." His weary apprehension of the painful process was evident in Alex's voice.
"Here, let me help." Chris reached down and pulled off Alex's wrestling shoes. "Want me to help you take your pants off too?"
Alex snorted with laughter, but he stopped abruptly when he looked at Chris' face. "Wait, are you actually serious?"
Chris shrugged. "Sure, why not? I'm not blind, I've seen how hard it is for you to do it yourself."
Alex blinked a couple of times, staring stupidly at Chris as the latter got to his feet. "Okay, if you don't mind..." He undid his belt and then he took the hand Chris held out to him, allowing Chris to help him to his feet.
Without any sign of discomfort or awkwardness, Chris hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Alex's tights, tugging them swiftly down to his knees, and then he put an insistent hand on Alex's shoulder. "Sit," he ordered, and Alex obeyed practically even before his conscious mind registered the instruction.
Chris sat back on his heels in front of the chair, peeling Alex's tights down and off one muscular leg at a time. He glanced up and noticed Alex's wary expression, and he took off Alex's kneepads with an amused smile. "What are you afraid of, Alex? That I might take advantage of the situation, or that I might not?"
Alex opened his mouth to reply, but he really didn't know what to say. Even if something clever had presented itself to him, he'd have forgotten it when Chris' hands skimmed up his bare calves and the backs of his knees, stopping at the lower part of his thighs.
"Like I said, Alex, I'm not blind." Chris' gaze drifted over to the curtain, and he decided it was worth the risk. "There was one other reason I watched your match. I just like watching you."
Chris leaned forward onto his knees, one hand curling around the back of Alex's neck. He pressed his lips very softly against Alex's, drawing back after a second to find Alex still staring at him in stupefaction. "Man, I hope you're more responsive than this when we have sex." He bent to remove Alex's socks.
"When we..." Alex trailed off, watching Chris intently as he threw the socks down with the rest of Alex's gear and stood up to hunt around the room for their bags.
The curtain was flung open and Alex jumped in startlement as Chuck Taylor sped through it, glancing fearfully over his shoulder. "For the love of God, don't let Roddy get me." He quickly positioned himself behind Alex's chair.
Alex recovered himself. "You're wasting your time, dude, I'm in no fit state to protect you whether I'd like to or not."
"Yeah, but he won't hit you. You're practically a cripple."
Alex's brows knitted in annoyance. "Roddy!" he yelled. "He's in here!"
Roderick barged through the curtain, taking a second to assess everyone's position and then zeroing in on Chuck. He began circling Alex's chair as Chuck backed away from him around it, and Chris and Alex watched with interest as Chuck begged for mercy.
"C'mon, man, it was just a joke. Nobody's going to believe that's actually true." Chuck tried to smile, but he fell flat on his ass when Alex stuck a foot out and tripped him. "You fucking bastard."
Roderick smirked maliciously. "Me and Alex, we go way back. Thanks, bro," he added in an aside to Alex, "I owe you one. You want anything from the bar?"
Alex shook his head, his eyes furtively flicking over at Chris, who was just stepping out of his shorts. He made himself look back at Roderick instead of gawping at Chris' body. "I'm kinda eager to get back to the hotel and go to bed tonight." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw another sunny smile break out on Chris' face.
"Fair enough." Roderick grabbed one of Chuck's ankles and started dragging him back into the main hall.
Chuck knew struggling against the Freaky Roderick Strength would be useless so he didn't bother, but he did take the time to announce, "I'll get you for this, Alex Shelley, you see if I don't," before he vanished from sight.
Alex sat quietly, and Chris was aware of Alex's eyes on him as he got dressed. Once he was sorted, he reached into Alex's bag and retrieved his pants for him.
"Come on," Chris said, "let's get some clothes on you. I'll run you a bath when we get back to the hotel and you can soak away your aches and pains." He knelt back on the floor in front of Alex's chair and helped him get his feet into his pants, grinning up at him when Alex shivered at the touch of Chris' hands. "Of course, that's if you don't mind me watching you."