A lot has been happening. TJP can barely grasp it all. First, Neville tells him he's asking for his release from WWE, then all this stupid stuff with Enzo Amore happens, and... and, well, TJ's lost against Rich Swann. Again and again and again and... All in all, TJ's looking forward to going home. Burying his face in Neville's shoulder and not moving again until he can bear to open his eyes without wincing away from the harshness of reality, or until he has to leave for Raw. Whichever comes first.
He's twirling his car keys on his finger, trying to appear without a care in the world to anyone who should happen to walk by, but the hallway's empty. Silent. Or at least, it is until he turns a corner and hears the argument. Brian Kendrick and Jack Gallagher are in the shadows, hissing vehemently back and forth about something. Now wrestling matches, they're fascinating to watch usually. The ebb and flow of violence, how smooth some chain wrestling can be, TJ can't get enough of taking it all in, learning from some of the best- and seeing what not to do by some of the worst. But this, the drama, backstage theatrics of his fellow cruiserweights, it does nothing for him. He's about to turn and walk back the way he came when something gives him pause. Body language, how the two men are leaning towards each other, there's something there- something he'd never noticed when he had partnered with Brian before, nor whenever Gallagher was on the opposite side of the ring, teaming with Aries against he and Neville.
He's just realized what it is when Jack forcefully grabs Brian and kisses him- bruisingly, angrily, needily. Brian bares his teeth, kisses back as hard as he's getting, digging his nails into Jack's gloved wrists, but they don't push each other away- if anything, they're drawing each other in closer, the kiss slowly morphing into some sort of lust, hunger... almost tender. TJ doesn't even realize he's taken a picture until it's happened and he's diving out of the hallway with his phone clasped in his hand, not sure if they even noticed or cared. He uploads the picture, sends it along. Remind you of anyone?
He doesn't get a response. He doesn't expect one, but it doesn't keep him from thinking about that moment, how it reminds him of another beginning not that long ago, a small smile on his lips.
The flight home is long, tiring. TJ is relieved when it's over, and even more so when he gets through California traffic in almost record time. Stands in the doorway of his house, tilts his head this way and that, and just listens. Mostly quiet but he can hear the pigs snuffling and papers shuffling and his smile grows at the familiarity of it all. Peeks into the living room and watches Neville peering through his glasses at red tape. Contract rigamaroe that WWE's been sending him regularly since he left. He sighs and wonders what it says this time before padding over and sitting on the arm of the chair that Neville's planted in, lightly scritching at Neville's scalp.
He blinks, puts the paper down, and looks over with a small smile. "Oh. You're home."
"Why, yes, I am," TJ murmurs, leaning in and kissing him. "Did you get my text?"
Neville grunts. "Yes, yes, I did. Perhaps warn a guy next time? I would rather not witness Gallagher and Kendrick making out in the hallway. I'm not a voyeur like some appear to be."
TJ laughs at this, but purses his lips at Neville. "Aw, c'mon. Hate turning into something deeper, it doesn't remind you of anyone?"
"What, a ridiculously hyper American who wears much too many accessories and a straight laced British fellow who that company turned from disgustingly nice to deranged in a heartbeat? No clue." Neville huffs a laugh, only just saving his papers in time as TJ slides off of the armrest to sit in his lap, lacing his fingers behind Neville's neck, watching with some satisfaction as Neville's eyes darken at the sudden closeness.
"You know you like my accessories," TJ hums as Neville has to reach out to grab his swinging tags of the Pinoy colors to keep from getting slapped in the face.
"I suppose they have their moments," he acknowledges, using his grip on the chain to drag TJ into a lengthy, hot kiss that they both melt into, forgetting the picture- the contracts- everything around them, if only for a few minutes.
"Maybe next time you'll actually respond to my text," TJ chuckles once they've parted to slow things down a little, Neville's glasses now sitting on a nearby table and TJ's hands tracing teasingly over the buttons of his shirt.
He grimaces. "You know I don't like to text, TJ." His hands are tracing circles low on TJ's back and he hums, burying his face in Neville's shoulder.
"I guess," he sighs. "I just... miss you, and it's easier to text than call when I'm at the arena usually." He sounds like he's pouting and Neville grips his jaw, forcing him to look at him. Traces the stubble already growing along his jawline and draws him in for another deep kiss, holding him until he's smiling again, eyes gleaming mischeviously.
They spend the next few days mostly ignoring reality, TJ dragging Neville away from the contracts to go outside and enjoy the bright blue sky and waves of crystalline water licking against the sand at the nearest beach when he can, sometimes just cajoling him into helping with pig duties, other times with some of Neville's favorite foods or video games. He doesn't get a lot done while TJ's home, but he doesn't complain, and TJ doesn't feel guilty when he sees the light gleaming in Neville's eyes after he thoroughly defeats TJ at NBA 2K18 again, or the soft smile twitching at his lips while they're sitting side by side feeding Cupcake and Pugsley. There had been a time when his eyes were dull, red-rimmed, hands twitching from sleep deprivation and stress, and... as much as he misses having Neville in WWE, wandering hallways and sometimes grabbing him for quick make out sessions when no one's looking, he greatly prefers this.
He wakes up on Monday, staring at the clock and sighing at the fact that he now has to leave, catch his flight out for Raw. 205 Live. Been aimless since losing to Rich Swann, not sure what to do next, where to go. Knows he'll figure something out eventually, he always does, but for now... For now he rolls over and watches Neville sleep, lips parted and a relaxed look on his face. He smiles and eases over, lightly kissing him. When he stirs, TJ strokes his side. "Sorry to wake you," he says, brushing his nose against Neville's cheek. "I have to catch my flight. I'll try not to text you too much while I'm gone." Teases him with another quick peck on the lips before pulling away to get ready, just to squeak when Neville grabs him and lulls him back in for another, longer kiss.
He sighs with regret and gets up, pulling the sheets back up to drape them over Neville's body, smirking as he rolls over to fall back asleep. Gets dressed and grabs his things as quietly and as quickly as he can, saying a hurried farewell to his pigs before slipping out of the door and locking it smoothly behind him, heading for the airport with only a few minutes to spare.
He's just boarded the plane when his phone beeps. He quickly puts his carry-on in the overhead compartment, claiming his seat and shifting things around before tugging his phone out of the pocket of his jeans, brows furrowing as he accesses the waiting text message. His face clears into a soft, beautiful kind of smile as soon as it loads.
Just so you know, I miss you too
-N