BrockTyson
Well, another Brock Lesnar, Tyson Kidd. I'm really starting to like this pairing. Just because. So, read, review. Request some fics if people want. Enjoy!
"Brock, really. I'm fine." Not that Tyson minded having his ex-boyfriend to wait on him. Hand and foot. Well, yes.. technically, they were still exes. The two of them.. had discussed.. becoming a couple again. It just didn't seem official, yet..
The brunette smiled as his leg was lifted up and a cushion was placed underneath it, now. "Brock, really."
"Stop protesting, cause I'm gonna do it." Brock smiled himself. He made sure Tyson's leg was elevated, carefully. He moved and took a seat beside the small brunette now. "How are you feeling?" He asked.
Tyson shrugged his shoulders a bit. "Well.. a bit better. The doctor said my ankle's doing better. And Nattie's taking good care of me too." He didn't want to be home alone.. so, he was just traveling with Natalya.. and to see Brock, now. See the man he really loved. More then anything..
Brock smiled again. He leaned over, pressing a light kiss against Tyson's soft cheek. Tyson smiled at the soft kiss. Other then that, there was nothing else that Brock had done. He hadn't gone further then a kiss with the brunette. Kept it slow, small.
"I got something to do," Brock said now. His large hand lightly cupped Tyson's chin, tilting his head so the brunette would look at him. "You stay here. Rest your leg."
The Canadian resisted the urge to smirk, almost giggling as Brock's little mother henning. It was really kind of cute, sweet. "I promise I will sit here and not move a muscle. Maybe." He had to giggle as the older man glared at him, lightly. "I won't move. I promise." Good boy. Brock pressed another kiss against his cheek, softly.
It was just a few minutes, before Tyson was left alone in the locker room. The brunette stared at his sneakers for a moment, humming quietly. Well, now he was just bored. Natalya had a match with Khali and Hornswoggle.. Justin was off doing something. Probably getting a different tag team partner since he was out of commission for a while. Plus, he was kind of hungry.
So, Tyson gathered up his crutches, putting them into position. With those, he hobbled out of the locker room and out into the hallway. A good thing was that the arena had various tables set up with food or drink. Once he found one, Tyson smiled. Hungry.
"Well, hi there."
Tyson paused, holding the apple in his hand. He turned around to look behind him. Brad Maddox smiled at the brunette, leaning now against the table. "Brad Maddox."
"I know who you are," Tyson wasn't stupid. He took a bite of his apple, looking at the other man now. "Can I help you?" He asked lightly.
Brad still smiled. "You actually can help me, cause I can help you." His hand slid across the table, lightly resting on Tyson's arm. The shorter brunette glanced over to see. Alright.. "You see, as the Raw Managing Supervisor now.."
"You're Vickie's assistant."
The smile faded. But it was back just as quick. "Either way. You and me can make a little arrangement." He moved his hand, trailing it over his arm to rest on his shoulder now. "You scratch my back.. I'll scratch yours." He moved closer towards the Canadian.
Tyson swallowed, holding the apple tight. God.. if he was reading what Maddox meant, the man was proposing sex, in exchange for a push in the company. "Look, Brad. I really don't think that's a good idea.." He took a step back, away from the brunette, which was difficult with his leg.
Brad smiled. "Oh, come on.." He reached over and took hold of both of Bruce's arms, holding them tight. "It's just one little thing.. Get you out of low-card.." He whispered.
"Look, get off of me, Maddox." Tyson warned. He struggled a bit, trying not to wince at the tight grip. "Get the fuck off!" He managed to raise his arm, slamming the apple against Brad's temple. Luckily, that was enough for Brad to yelp and release him. It just wasn't enough for him to get away.
Brad grabbed his arm again, slamming his fist sharply into Tyson's rib. The Canadian yelped as he fell to the floor, hissing in pain. From the hit and the pain on his leg. Tyson opened his eyes, starting to try and back away, quickly. He stopped and smiled a bit, looking.. behind Brad.
Brad glared down at him, rubbing apple away from his face. "What the hell are you smiling at." He demanded angrily. Little bitch, he'd make him pay. All of the color drained from his face as a large hand clamped down onto his shoulder and he was thrown suddenly into the table.
Brock growled, his face reddening with anger as he kicked at the former referee, making sure he felt a good amount of pain. For even touching Tyson like that. He gave Brad a last sharp kick, his foot hitting him right in the temple.
Tyson smiled from his position on the floor. Despite his pain, he smiled and watched as Brock defended him. That was.. a rather welcoming sight. Just like the old days. "Brock?" He asked softly. "Can you help me up?" That voice seemed to be the only thing that mattered. Brock turned around, the anger disappearing from his face.
He walked over to the brunette, kneeling down. One arm slipped underneath Tyson and the other arm helping to pull him up now. Brock picked him up, holding the small brunette in his arms. "You okay?" There was worry in his voice, almost hidden, but Tyson heard it. Heard it and he smiled now. "I'm fine, Brock. Trust me."
Now, that there was a knight in shining armor to rescue him again..
