It's only 15 minutes into Jack's exercise routine, his iPod reflecting 3:15 A.M. as he breaks the first sweat of the night. He really did prefer starting at 3 A.M., too early for the early birds and too late for the midnight lifters. The hotel's gym was just how he liked it, empty with all the equipment at his disposal.
Perhaps it was peculiar that Jack relished these moments of loneliness, as he spent almost all his time alone nowadays. Zeb was still in rehab thanks to that bastard Rusev, and, well…Jack's relationship with Cesaro was terminated eons ago. Jack then finds himself thinking of the Swiss man and his recent success and he begins to grind his teeth, full of jealousy at his accomplishments and remorse over their relationship. Resolving to blare out his own thoughts, the blond picks up heavier dumbbells, turning his music up higher as he gets lost in the burn of his muscles.
From dumbbells to squats, pushups, and now the treadmill, Jack is drenched in sweat. Settling into a nice rhythm, swigging water here and there, Jack becomes lost in the motions. Perhaps this is why he preferred this particular regime, allowing himself freedom from the regrets that plagued him over the past year. 'Not strong enough.' He'd tell himself. 'Everyone leaves you.' He'd recite. But in moments like this, these negative mantras were lost in the pool of sweat settling at the base of his spine, the burn of his thighs, the flush spreading down his freckled skin. It's as if Jack is in a trance, motivated and in power in a manner unlike anything he's felt in years, but it all comes crumbling down as a certain bald male is slouching against the gym's open door, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk plastered on those thin lips.
Jack is mid-exercise, it's barely past 4:10, and he is going to be sore as all hell if he doesn't perform any cool downs. Regardless, he's instantly off the treadmill, beginning to shove his wrist tape into his drawstring bag when Cesaro finally clears his throat. Fuck.
"Jack, it's okay." That thick accent, as smooth as honey, pronouncing Jack's name with the same mood as he did when they were partners. The Real American's stomach is doing backflips and a nasty taste as bubbled up to his lips. "You don't have to go. It's not…it's not like it's my gym." He chuckles nervously, sensing the tension in Jack, his shoulders drawn up tight.
Jack doesn't so much as grunt a response, trying his damnedest to ignore Cesaro, to not listen to him, but he's right. Besides, they're both adults here and can be civil. As Jack contemplates the pros and cons of staying, the sound of wrist tape snapping echoes in the awkward silence as the Swiss man begins to tape his hands.
"Spot me?" So cool and casual, Cesaro makes his way to the bench closest to Jack, putting on an obscene amount of weight, but Jack has seen him lift more with ease.
"You don't need me to." Jack rasps out, taking a swig of his water and approaching the bench regardless, his words contrasting with the actions of his body. Perhaps, the craving of his body to be closer to the Swiss man.
"You're right, but…" Cesaro begins, laying back as he clasps the metal pole and smiling coyly at the younger male. Apprehension aside, Jack decides to spot him, leaning over as Cesaro begins to effortlessly pump the weights. "…I wanted to talk."
Jack scuffs at that, mushing up his messy locks as he moves away, deciding to get back on the treadmill instead of dealing with this.
"Jack, please." Cesaro grunts out, already up to 5 reps as Jack continues his jog on the treadmill. He's tempted to put his headphones in, but decides he'll allow Cesaro to air his grievances, deciding then and there he'd sock him one if he crossed a line. "I…the way I left, I'm sorry. I…being a Real American meant a lot to me. You meant-…"
"You finish that sentence and so help me God I will drop a weight on your neck." Jack's voice is stern, but riddled heavy with emotion and exhaustion from his workout and Cesaro can tell it, letting out a nervous chuckle as the tension reaches higher levels.
"I'm trying to level with you here, Hoss…" Cesaro begins and Jack sucks his teeth at that, the nickname sounding tainted on the traitor's tongue. "…what it…it wasn't right. But Jack, we were going to go our separate ways anyways."
Jack huffs at that, turning the treadmill off as he mentally punches himself for staying. "You left us, Toni." The nickname said with a malice so great it makes Cesaro wince. "You left me." He slides off the machine, deciding he would rather do cool downs in his room than listen to any more drivel. His plans are quickly cut short as Cesaro snatches at his arm, moving as smooth and as fast as ever. Deep brown eyes peer up into Jack's and a familiar warm twinge slides down his spine.
"Spot me?" Cesaro asks for the second time that night and something in Jack caves, nodding silent as Cesaro makes his way back to the bench. Jack doesn't spot him so much as he begins working with dumbbells once more on the bench next to him.
"You and Kidd really were something…tag champs and everything." Jack says after a few reps, unable to prevent that taste of envy that slips between his lips.
"I guess so. But, it's just me now. Kidd…he's out for now." Cesaro states rather matter-of-factly, because, well, what was there to discuss? Sure, he and Kidd got along and they were friends, but he and Jack, they were something else and it ached deep in Cesaro to know he had lost it. "He was no Jack Swagger, though." And Jack's heart skips a beat at that, the affection in Cesaro's creating a different breed of backflips within his stomach than earlier.
"Of course not…" Jack says with a small chuckle, placing his dumbbell down as he finally decides to actually spot the older man, leaning over as sweat drips down his face. Cesaro doesn't even flinch as the foreign sweat falls on his pristine cheek.
"I meant what I said. I'm sorry that we separated the way we did." The bald male huffs out before settling the bar back up, deciding to prolong his workout for now. "I'm…I'm sorry about that night, Jack."
"D-Don't, don't." Jack says quickly, his heart hammering harder than it was during his exercises. That night. God, the Friday before their only Mania together. That night…when Cesaro got nearly pissing down his leg drunk and he kisses a nearly sober Swagger. That night…the one where Jack confessed his passion, laid his heart out. And the Saturday morning of hangover and "it was just a misunderstanding", that tore Jack up inside.
"Jack, let me talk."
"There's nothing to talk about. You…you said what you needed to. Let's…let's not do this. Just leave it at this…okay? A-After tonight, just…never again." Jack can hear his voice crack on the last syllable, turning his back to Cesaro as he tries to garner some composure. A few heavy breathes later and he turns around to the older male straddling the bench, facing Jack. "Why…why are you even…why are we doing this? Jutht…" His lisp was always more pronounced when he was upset or annoyed and Cesaro could hear the emphasis of it, the extra slurring of words and it made his own stomach sink.
"I…I found my track jacket. The one you made me. I thought it would be best to close up loose ends and I hoped…" He hesitates, looking down from Jack's dampened blue eyes.
"You hoped what?"
"I hoped that maybe, maybe we could be something again."
"Our time as a tag team is done, Toni." The nickname causes a pang in Cesaro's chest as he resolves to meet Jack's gaze.
"I suppose you're right, Jack." Cesaro says rather forlornly, feeling somewhat idiotic for reopening a wound without truly having a solution. But, if he was being truly honest with himself, the 'something' he so deeply desired from Jack wasn't a tag partner. No, no, it was something more passionate. Something that Cesaro denied Jack that Saturday morning, despite he, too, yearning for it oh-so-much. "Suppose this is pointless, but…" A lightbulb goes off in Cesaro's head with an idea that will either fix everything or end with him getting the shit kicked out of him. But Jack…Jack was worth the risk. "…how about one last spar, hmm?" Jack shoots him a look like he's nuts, snorting audibly as he crosses his arms.
"You're joking, right?"
"No, I'm 100% serious. If you want to end this, never want to be approached by me again, then spar with me. Just for old time's sake."
Jack contemplates it for a moment, remembering Zeb barking orders at them as they trained, and the sweat they'd break as they lifted weights in sync, as they learned each other's moves inside and out. He smiles fondly at the memory, rubbing his slightly sore shoulder. "Fine." After all, what harm could it do? Especially if this meant they could separate from each other and he could be spared more heartache in future years.
There was a small wrestling ring connected to the gym as this was a common conference hotel for college wrestling teams, which was oddly convenient for Cesaro's proposition. Not five minutes later the former tag partners are in the ring. Jack fastens his wrist tape on, not bothering to shower before the match, sweat causing his hair to stick to his head, a soft gleam across his brow.
"C'mon." Jack's voice is oddly cold, but almost nervous in nature as he and Cesaro begin their sparring, locked in a battle so familiar and yet foreign with the time passed.
A headlock here, a clothesline there, and the two are in perfect synchronization, countering seamlessly the most basic and advanced moves in each other's arsenal. Jack can feel a strain in his body that goes beyond physical, knowing deep inside that he missed this, that he missed Toni, but that they could never go back to the way things were. Lost in his thoughts, Cesaro scoops the blond up effortlessly, going for what appears to be a schoolboy roll up. He stops, however, leaving Jack stacked up on his shoulders and nearly bent in half, glaring up at the older male.
"That's a 3 count, you won." Jack says matter-of-factly, masking the disappointment from his tone. He was quite enjoying the nostalgic sensations, as bitter as he may have been.
"I know." But Cesaro isn't budging and Jack starts wiggling in vain, trying to get free. "But I like seeing you like this." A coy smile on the Swiss man's lips and Jack's face reddens from anger at that statement, trying further to get free as his neck begins to strain.
"Are you fucking MOCKING me?" Jack growls, before his brain short circuits, finding his basketball shorts to be yanked down to his knees, back still pinned to the mat. "W-Wha?"
"You always did have a nice ass, Bigg Hoss…should call you Bigg Ass instead." Cesaro's voice is dark, deep and unlike anything that has ever graced the Oklahoman's before and now his face is redder than before. Not from the sparring, no, but from the downright devilish look accompanying the older male's sultry tone.
"C-Cesaro, stop…please…it's not funny, okay." Jack is embarrassed now, thankful that he had the decency to put on a pair of briefs so that he's not completely bare, but ashamed by this treatment. Why was Cesaro teasing him so? Making him feel so helpless, knowing that the Swiss was the stronger of the two and Jack could only escape during these sparring sessions if he let him?
"I'm not joking, Jackie." And there's a hand cupping Jack's junk and he twists and turns erratically, letting out a groan of pain as he's sure he pulls a muscle in his neck.
"P-Pleathe, let me go…I'm begging you." The dampness in Jack's eyes throws Cesaro off guard. He expected the younger man to lash out and find the strength to counter him, but…he didn't expect this. "I'm t-thorry about that night, I'm thorry for thaying anything…I-I know it made you hate me, b-but pleathe…I would take it back if I could…b-but don't do thith to me. D-Don't teathe me like thith."
'Oh shit.' Cesaro thought, his blood running cold as he follows a tear dripping downwards from Jack's eye, adding to the sticky sweat in his blond locks. 'He thinks that I'm trying to get payback.' Guilt is running strongly through the older male and he knows he has to be careful about his next move because it could make or break them forever. "I don't hate you, Jackie." The blue eyed male sucks in a breath, face a red, sweaty, and teary mess as he stares up from the bizarre position. "I want you. I want you the way you want…wanted me. And the way you hopefully still want me."
Silence, then, and both men are incredibly still at the confession and this stillness is there for what seems like an eternity before Jack licks his bottom lip. "R-Really? You, Toni…"
"I mean it." Cesaro says then, anticipation boiling in his stomach as he remembers the brief touch of Jack's sex and that kiss that seemed so long ago and he wants more, wants Jack to really know how he feels. Slowly, ever so slowly, a hand is crept back between Jack's thighs, a gentle rubbing begins as the blue orbs are fluttered shut.
"Oh God, I-I…" Breathlessly Jack pants out, pink beginning to travel up to his ears and down his chest, slipping beneath his tank top. Cesaro contemplates the noises Jack would make if he followed that pinkness with his tongue. "Toni, t-thop, we, we can't d-do thith…" But his voice and protests are fading and the methodical rubbing continues, his sex coming to life more and more with each touch.
"You're getting so wet, Jackie…" He chuckles, Jack's eyes shooting open as precum seeps through the thin, white material and he covers his face with his arm.
God, this was almost too much and the younger male's head is swimming, from the pleasure or being stuck bent in half he doesn't know, but he's given up fighting. Wanting this for so long, finally feeling that delicious touch and he craves it, silently yearning for it and greedily savoring the pulsing of those strong, calloused fingers in the chance they're ripped away from him. As if this night wasn't already chaotic and disorienting enough for Jack, the sudden cool breeze of air to his backside is added to the list. "W-Wha…" There goes Jack's shorts and briefs.
"Shh…" Cesaro hushes him, sliding Jack's legs behind his ears as he leans forward, bending Jack's hips until their faces are near centimeters away. There's hardly any blue or brown left in either of their eyes as their lips meet in a wet tangle of tongues. This isn't a one off, close mouthed smooch like that night. No, no, Cesaro is greedily sucking on Jack's tongue, nipping at his lips and beginning to travel his kisses down, sucking a few hickies here and there and Jack's going wild with pleasure. "So beautiful…" Jack's heart thumps in his chest at that.
"B-Beautiful?" And it makes Cesaro ache, hearing the innocence in the younger male's voice as he stares up in adoration.
"Yes." Because Jack is beautiful. Lips plump and swollen red from kisses. Sweat and tears staining his freckled cheeks. A thin blue rim around his pupils. That adorable blush seemingly trailing lower down his frame. And Cesaro's overwhelmed by the male beneath him, almost feeling angered at the fact he would even question that he was beautiful inside and out. And he needed to make Jack feel good, make up for the pain and doubt he had undoubtedly bestowed upon him.
"W-What are you doing?" Jack, hardly able to think straight as he's moved once more, still bent in half but at a slightly more comfortable angle now. Before he can try and make sense of the new position, he finds his brain stops functioning for a moment, instinctively trying to curl himself away as a hot, wet sensation is grazed across his asshole. "T-Toni, oh God, oh fuck…" His voice cracking as he continues to flail slightly. "I-It'th dirty, d-don't…"
"It's pretty…" Cesaro rasps, before swiping his tongue over the puckered flesh once more, glaring into Jack's eyes with a dominance like no other. "…you taste heavenly, baby."
"Oh holy shit, o-oh…" Jack shivers, goosebumps accompanying the redness across his chest and arms as those hungry eyes of the older male burrow into his. It feels otherworldly, as if Jack's body has ascended to another plane. The sensation of that wet, greedy muscle lapping over such an intimate and previously untouched place leaves Jack scrambling for how to react. But it's so good, precum dripping down steadily now, a sticky trail leading down the blond's exposed middle and tank top. "T-Toni, I…oh God…"
"Never figured you'd be so sensitive…" Cesaro says between licks, deciding to rub his finger over the sensitive skin and to verbally tease the taller male. "…but I love it. Such a beautiful, sexy, big boy…" And he loves that the statement causes Jack to hide behind his arm once more. "…body far more honest than his words could ever be." Toni creeps a hand underneath Jack's tank top, tickling the soft skin there before leaning up farther, pinching one of those stiff, pink nubs.
"Uhn, n-not…there, t-too…" Jack's discovering all kinds of things about his body tonight. Like how a tongue merely rubbing against his ass and a couple tugs of his nipples leave him a puddle of pleasure and reduces him into a babbling idiot.
"I'll have to play more with these later." Cesaro smirks, the promise of there being a later causing excitement to flutter within both men's stomachs. That more were to come, that they could finally have one another without question, without consequences and that none of the bullshit before mattered. "But I want to taste more of this pretty little pink hole." Jack shifts at that, trying to ready himself for the strange, but pleasurable sensations once more. However, he's not at aptly prepared as he though as Cesaro's no longer licking, but nearly sucking at the skin there, squelching noises filling the room and Jack can feel his balls drawing up tighter. It's so filthy, so downright messy and perfect.
"C-Cetharo…T-Toni…fuck, more, more!" Jack is nearly gurgling, toes beginning to curl as he continues to make a wet sticky mess, one hand grabbing at Cesaro's arm that's firmly wrapping around him, the other desperately yanking at the mat.
"I'll give you more, baby, I'll make this sexy little cunt mine." And with that filthy little proclamation, Cesaro slips his tongue inside, wrapping his hand around Jack's cock and pulling his foreskin down, teasing with the pink head.
Jack's world is a flash of white light, a hot tongue, and a strong hand as he comes. It's like electricity caressing his spine and his sex, his body alight and taunt as he shouts out his orgasm.
"You look even more gorgeous when you come." Is the first sentiment Jack hears when he comes to, finding himself in the gym's open showers, propped on one of the benches.
"Um, uh…" Jack's voice is hoarse, his neck aching and he's painfully aware that just a slight penetration of his ass has left it feeling hypersensitive. He shifts slightly, letting out a soft groan of discomfort before he's greeted with patient hands on his shoulders, a warm washcloth brushing gently across the freckled flesh.
"Just take it easy, I…I know I hit you with a lot." Toni says, realizing how confused and mixed up and drained the younger male must be, dedicating himself to helping him relax and adjust back from his high.
"You ate my athth, dude…I think you thould be the one taking it eathy…" Jack turns around with a small chuckle, taking in Cesaro's bare body and sucking in a deep breath. He licks his bottom lip, before chewing into it.
"Jack, you okay?" Cesaro hopes he didn't do or say something wrong, but the thought quickly slips away when thick fingers are gracing his cock, warm breath against his slowly hardening flesh.
"Let me return a favor."