The Performance Center exuded an eerie and almost nostalgic atmosphere. Empty halls after empty halls and Becky Lynch couldn't - for the love of God - find where the hell her dressing room was. It didn't help that the ordinarily occupied hallways that boasted a sea of staff looked like an absolute ghost town. Whether or not most of the lights were turned on didn't stop a chill from reverberating across Becky's spine.
There were exactly fifty people that occupied the Performance Center and that already included both Smackdown and Raw. So when the management had announced that only 'essential staff' would be participating in the rehearsals - both the essentials and favorites had really surfaced, Becky is one of them. No, at the top of them. This came to no surprise for 'The Man', after all, it was true. Somehow she just wished this favoritism spilled over to a generous treatment such as placing her locker room to a place not located in the far corners of the confusing maze that is the Performance Center as of 2020.
With additional rooms, buildings, and training facilities; it had been so far from the place Becky used to know. Despite having the time to reminisce about the sacred nature of her developmental days in NXT, the dull pain that emanated throughout her upper back reminded her of the sacrilegious nature of nostalgic pleasantries. She had forgotten how hard the canvas had been in the Performance Center, hence the lack of care placed in applying a top-rope Bexploder.
Understaffed, she really did not want to rely on an exhausted one-man medical institution within the center. It just felt like Vince wasn't paying them enough - hence her quest for the pain relievers locked in her locker room.
"Are you lost?"
Speaking of Vince and paying, here was the girl that tweeted about it non-stop. Still, it leaves a bit of a foul taste in Becky's mouth that the woman who chose to leave instead of toiling through the pain of having to raise yourself out of the mid-card; was rewarded with a generous contract. Fuck the belts, Becky wanted some buses.
And probably a break.
"Just lookin' for my locker room is all," she responded unenthusiastically. Having to look at what has become of the Sasha she knew left so many questions Becky did not have enough time or energy to find out.
"Hmm." Even though Becky hadn't turned to face the voice - she just knew that she was being carefully scrutinized from top to bottom. It had made Becky extremely uncomfortable. "Injured, are we?"
"Course' you'd know, takes one to know one," Becky quietly retorted, picking up her pace to get back to her search. She only noticed the mistake of taking a jab at Sasha's injury-filled career when her the woman behind her had matched her pace.
"That's how you get five-star matches." It wasn't the smugness poured out of Sasha's tone that irritated Becky. She wasn't sure yet, but it was something else. Maybe- probably, it was because of how empty it sounded. It felt more like an echo from the past rather than a legitimate statement.
Becky continued to walk. If there was any drive to confront the estranged friend/rival, it definitely wasn't on the night before the big interviews en route to Wrestlemania.
"If you're looking for Kinesio tapes, I've got some in my locker room."
"S'okay, I have my own."
Sasha let out an annoying giggle, an attribute Becky never remembered Sasha having until the draft, until the hair, until the return. "You've circled this floor five times already, don't think you're as bright as you claim to be."
"What is your problem!? Don't you have some Vince or Bayley to bother?" Becky snapped, finally facing the source of the noise that had kept bothering her for the solid fifth minute by the time she had turned to Sasha.
Furrowed eyebrows softened into a look of surprise when she had noticed what Sasha was wearing; a black, shiny, bodysuit that looked like it could have either been latex or leather. It was only at this point that Becky had almost fully fathomed what Booker T meant when he mentioned that Sasha had gained eight pounds worth of pure muscle.
"You're right, I do have other people to bother myself with. It does get a little boring around here," Sasha walked closed to Becky, almost closing the meters' worth of distance between the two. "I have kinesio tapes in my locker since you're too thick to remember where yours is."
"No thanks, I'd rather-"
Becky's excuse was abruptly cut off by Sasha applying a considerable amount of pressure on her back using her palm that only made Becky wince in pain, and probably something else.
"Lower back huh? Can't let that sit too long," Sasha looked down at Becky who had squatted to the ground in pain. "Lest you turn out like Paige."
Strangely, Sasha had never mentioned or alluded to Paige's injury - except for a few seconds ago. Becky had to be suspicious of just who the hell she was talking to.
Regardless, Sasha was right. Her back had to be immediately iced and treated if she wanted to be at a hundred percent for Wrestlemania. Because, Shayna? She was counting on a Becky that was less than a hundred and ten percent. The weird energy coming off of Sasha be damned, Becky had bigger things to worry about.
As soon as Sasha had opened the doors to her locker, Becky was immediately hit with the exotic scent of candles and natural oils - lit dimly by an elegant, solitary table lamp that stood on top of the table where the Hollywood mirror was attached.
The last time she had been to Sasha's locker room was 2015 or 16', she couldn't even remember. But it was a time when her stable had punished her for wanting better things, for being ambitious, for dreaming big and going for the gold. They had that much in common. That was the exact drive that made Becky hold Sasha to such high regard; the reason why they got close in NXT, and why they challenged Charlotte at the same time.
Whatever happened to Sasha Banks?
"You gonna keep staring or you wanna come in?" Sasha, despite having been behind Becky had squeezed herself through the tiny space between Becky and the frame of her door to enter her locker room first. The blue-haired egomaniac relaxed into the leather couch that smelled and screamed brand new. She patted the spot next to her,
"S'okay," Becky waved her hand to refuse the offer, not wanting to spend any more time the rabbit hole of figuring out what had happened and who she was talking to. "I'll just take some tapes off yer hands and probs' head to the hotel."
Sasha raised her eyebrows, as if the woman or 'The Man' as corny as that little gimmick had gotten, had told the funniest joke in the world. "Oh, so you can finally reach that area in your back?" It wasn't a secret that Becky lacked a little bit of flexibility.
"I'll ask someone else to do it!"
The clicking of Sasha's tongue was quickly followed by impeccably light footsteps towards where Becky stood. "I'm here, I'll do it. Will you let me?" Her palms wrapped itself around Becky's waist, pleased with the reaction that it's gotten the minute that Becky's breath hitched. Leave it to Sasha Banks to taint such a virtuous gesture with a malicious tone.
Becky froze. "S-Sasha?"
Her grip remaining firm on Becky's waist, Sasha had guided the woman towards the couch. A stiff Becky had allowed herself to move by the order of Sasha's wrists, as if a spell oozed out of her cold fingertips - a feeling that Becky was only able to recognize once Sasha's thumb had casually brushed against the bit of exposed skin between Becky's shirt and shorts.
Her back turned from Sasha as she faced the wall, she had noticed a psychedelic painting lull and confused her eyes. It looked native, but Becky didn't want to presuppose assumptions about the woman she no longer knew.
Sasha had slid her hands from Becky's waist to the back of her neck, a relaxing firm hold enlightening Becky of aches that she wasn't aware existed. She was getting oddly comfortable against her better judgement.
But better judgement was all Becky had in a time where everybody had forgotten about her. "So where are the tapes?"
"Patience," Sasha knelt from the couch, applying a moderately painful amount of pressure on the back of Becky's neck. "Your trapezius are too stiff. Let me help."
"No offense, but I think you're not going to do a better job than the kinesios."
Against Becky's advice, Sasha's fingertips had started to muse patterns against Becky's back - some motions earning her a deep groan from the Irish woman. "Been a while huh? Let me put some oil."
She would have protested if the muscles that had relaxed in her back didn't attest to the skills that she had previously doubted. There was another surprise from whoever this Sasha was. "Therapeutic massage… Where'd ya' learn it?"
Sasha rose from where she was kneeling to head towards the basin of her locker room that was packed with essential oils. "Around - when I was gone," she shrugged - even her voice had gotten raspier as the air around them thinned.
Becky averted Sasha's gaze when she walked back to where Becky was sitting, determined to not step into a conversation that will surely unpack a can of worms into everybody's life. If there was anything unchanging about Sasha Banks, it's her ability to make everything so dramatic. Becky didn't want to go there.
But also - to lull people into a false sense of stability, before she rocks the boat once again. The phrase 'expect the unexpected' has never been so cliche when it came to the topic of Sasha. That's why Becky wanted to hit herself so hard in the head for agreeing to come to Sasha's locker room and allow herself to be the least bit comfortable as Sasha's heat radiated closer and closer to her own - until she could feel the contrasting steadiness of Sasha's breath down her neck.
Just all of a sudden, Becky now felt the sense of desire that had been building up at the pit of her stomach. And Sasha had barely touched her.
Instinctively and unconsciously, Becky leaned in to the touch. She knew full well that she shouldn't. It was, after all, Sasha that was the subject matter at this point. And she half wished that Sasha didn't have the presence of mind that she did to notice this dissonance within Becky's bones. But she did. Sasha took the slight movement as permission to move further into Becky's defenses.
In a viper-like manner, Sasha's palms travelled from the back of Becky's neck towards the front as her fingertips carefully entered Becky's shirt and caressed her collarbones.
"Sasha..." Becky moaned a warning - and Sasha was nothing short of impressed, more with herself than the orange-haired prey. "W-we shouldn't…"
Seeing 'The Man' stutter almost made her feel sympathetic about the wave of confusion she was about to subdue Becky in. Unfortunately, Becky was right. Sasha was selfish. "Mm? Just tell me to stop if you don't feel like it anymore." The hands that rested just a few inches above Becky's chest moderately tightened around her neck, eliciting a rewarding quiver. Sasha chuckled; Becky did not put much of a fight when it came down to her weaknesses.
"You were saying something, Becky?" Sasha leaned closer to Becky, her lips ghosting over Becky's ear as she gave the sensitive spot a sensual lick.
"Fuck."
"Oh," Sasha's hands slid out of Becky''s shirt and re-entered it through the hem of her 'The Man' shirt, this time feeling out Becky's chiseled abdomen - her thumb dangerously close to the outline of Becky's bare breasts. "You want me to fuck you, is that it?"
The lack of response had already informed Sasha of the other pair of eyes wide shut although she's yet to see Becky's face. "Look at you," she provoked, cupping the corners of Becky's breasts, careful to merely tease the flesh that surrounded her peak. "Begging."
She kissed the back of Becky's ear and remained in that spot to whisper, "This is what 'The Man' is? Such a shame no one in the locker room's gonna be aro-"
Sasha's tune was interrupted by the sharp pain that greeted her wrist as Becky was quick to pull it with a death grip. "Be careful lass." For the first time since the entire fiasco, Becky had met Sasha's gaze - darkness clouding her hooded eyes. "Don't test me. Injured or not, I can break your body until you're forced to have to quit again."
Most people in the locker room would have been sent running because Becky had been known for fulfilling her promises. The likes of Sasha, Ronda, Charlotte, and Asuka have had the taste of it - the rest of the B-listers never wanted to follow those footsteps. But the way that Sasha challenged Becky's tone with a carnal smirk of her own made Becky's newfound resolve over her involuntary and carnal response tremble just a bit.
"Becky are you really going to deny how wet you are right now?" Sasha purred, eyeing Becky as her predatory gaze settled at the center of Becky's shorts. She licked her lips.
Becky, who was attempting to recover from the rush of her initial arousal violently pulled both of Sasha's wrists and slammed her to the wall.
For a quick second, Becky was able to stop and think about what was happening. She reckoned that Sasha, in all of her new individuality, all the more lacked the respect that she had fought for - tooth and nail, against popular opinion. No one was going to disrespect her again. Sasha was not as dominant as she pegs herself to be.
"Two can play at this game, Sasha." Becky threatened, her face less than an inch away from the woman who refused to give so much as a flinch or reaction. It was insulting and Becky couldn't understand the unsettling mixture of rage and lust that brewed inside of her.
Once again, Becky heard that irritating, haughty laugh that Sasha had. The one that was followed with quiet and empty threats, but at the time, it wasn't as quiet. "Becky? Against me? You will lose."
A trigger had gone off inside of Becky She discharged a series of groans that could only be described as animalistic as she hungrily tore the thin and almost-elastic fabric that had clothed Sasha for the better part of the evening. She didn't even stop to admire the perfectly sculpted body that Sasha had, or the fact that her skin had been so dewy she looked like a little slice of perfection. No. Becky rabidly went for Sasha's mouth until she felt like she could taste blood as her digits were roamed between Sasha's thighs, threatening to go beyond what Sasha could possibly handle - the unsteady rhythm powered by the will to subdue. No words were uttered, but Becky hoped that she was clear enough. I fucking hate you.
"B-Becky!" Sasha shrieked, involuntarily parting her lips and hooking a leg around Becky's waist, as the encounter had been every bit of the world painful, she tried to shift around Becky, in an attempt to tread the thin line where pain and pleasure united.
Upon noticing the devious attempt at taking control of the situation, Becky used her free hand to choke the resolve out of Sasha. "Why are you so wet Sasha? Don't tell me you like being hurt," Becky withdrew her fingers from the taut core and licked a bit of Sasha's arousal.
"Is that why you left right after Hell in A Cell?" It was Becky's turn to express a sadistic laughter as she ran her damp hand through her braids. Seeing the bare woman struggle in front of her had only done more to arouse Becky. It hadn't been within her range of taste when it came to matters of the bedroom but there was something in her that felt satisfaction in putting people in place; in putting Sasha in place.
"You trying to find out my kink so you have an excuse for when you don't get to satisfy me?" Sasha managed to wink a small provocation, despite being asphyxiated.
Becky was awfully familiar with this Sasha. For the longest of time the voices in her head that forced her to evolve into 'The Man' spoke in the timbre of Sasha's voice. It didn't even matter if it came from Alexa, Charlotte, or Ronda - all of their indignity lived under the shadow of Sasha's words. There was a time, and there still are several times when Becky would feel sick about how much she hated how Sasha had treated her, but still looked for her approval; how much she hated how Sasha is now only a shell of a competitor that she once was, and yet still has that same effect on Becky. The mere memory made Becky lose grip of Sasha's neck.
Sasha just knew a hundred and thousand ways to make Becky Lynch feel small. Here they were; on a different competition, dancing to a familiar tune.
Taking the opportunity of a bigger breathing capacity, Sasha casually rubbed the handprints on her neck and stood straight - mimicking the demeanor of a person who was ready to leave. "You're right I should have bothered with… other people. Maybe Bayley's still awa-"
She didn't expect how hard Becky struck her with the palm of a woman pushed past her limits. Without a second to look offended, Sasha was once again thrust against the wall with enough force to at least cause temporary numbness. But it didn't matter because Becky's tongue had started to suckle on her right breasts as her left hand was massaging the other - immediately displacing the vacuum of sensation that the impact had caused.
Her eyes rolled back in a moment of intoxication. Sasha wouldn't have guessed how skillful Becky was at foreplay, especially when she was less focused on hurting Sasha and more intent about proving herself. Watching Becky expertly navigate and exhaust sensitive areas around Sasha's exposed chest, flicking her tongue upon the first sign of a repressed moan, Sasha reckoned that she should have done this a long time ago.
There was, however, a specific spot just between Sasha's neck and collarbone that Becky accidentally touched, that threw Sasha into a frenzy. Becky was quick to take note and tested for a reaction. She used her tongue to flick at the same spot. Sasha unconsciously bucked her hips upwards, her wet center grinding against Becky's thighs. "Jesus," Becky rasped, fascinated by the sight before her. Whoever knew that Sasha was an absolute performer? The slick heat going up and down her thigh only added to the morbid desire boiling in the pit of Becky's stomach.
Now full of herself, Becky threw Sasha an arrogant, lopsided smile and assaulted the sensitive area. She rolled her tongue against the protruding collarbone and proceeded to apply suction. All the while, Sasha's eyes alternated between being sealed shut or rolled backwards as she kept a steady pace of riding Becky's thigh. It was one of the hottest things Becky had ever seen, and she thought that she would go to the grave with this accomplishment under her belt. Sasha cooed like a feline in heat. "Look at you… begging." Becky spoke, and Sasha's chest reverberated with Becky's melodious undertone.
Seeing her thigh glisten with Sasha's juices aroused in Becky an appetite for the 'Boss'. Although her hands that were getting too familiar with the mounds of Sasha's chest missed the warmth as Becky departed Sasha's torso, they were soon preoccupied with caressing the curves of Sasha's muscular thighs. It was everything that Becky had thought it would feel like on the few instances where she'd accidentally glance a few seconds before Sasha's 'Meteora'.
Becky explored deeper into Sasha's thighs within a span of a few seconds - both hands closing into Sasha's folds. She told herself that there was no need to familiarize; once she's done with Sasha, she'd have proven who really was better between the two of them.
Without warning, Becky brushed a thumb against Sasha's hooded clit. Sasha's knees buckled, almost collapsing if it weren't for Becky's arm that reflexively caught her. The girl looked like she was about to combust. Becky dipped a finger to check the kind of situation Sasha would be in. The girl had been salivating as her core tightened around Becky's fingers, desperate for more. Delightful. She licked her lips and went down to taste Sasha, the arousal dripping out of her sex almost going to waste.
Sasha grunted, unable to completely balance herself - or think for that matter. As Becky lapped up at Sasha's wetness, careful not to brush her tongue against her hypersensitive bud. "Stop teasing," Sasha managed to say, in the midst of her light-headed stupor. Incredibly irate, Becky stepped away from Sasha and looked for a tape - any kind - to seal her mouth shut. She found a packaging tape, and it didn't even matter if plastering them on and taking them off will significantly hurt Sasha.
Good, Becky thought. "The only time you ever get to speak is to call me The Boss."
With side comments out of the way, Becky eagerly kneeled between Sasha's thighs and grasped it in place. She parted Sasha's lips and glossed the center with a broad stroke. Sasha sounded so much better when she wasn't opening her mouth. But Becky wasn't going to lie, the scent of the other woman's pheromones had been intoxicating. There was a time when she'd catch the same scent few and far between sparring sessions from NXT. Being that close to the source, Becky gave herself a pat in the back.
She could feel Sasha tense the minute she breathed at her clit. Seeing that the woman had been rather silent, thanks to her, she rewarded Sasha by suckling the sensitive nub - using the back of her tongue to repeatedly stimulate the area. Sasha had started shaking and Becky slowed herself down to a near-complete halt to let Sasha ride out initial tremors of her climax.
Before Sasha was able to fully ride out the ebbing of the waves of her orgasm, Becky rammed three fingers inside of Sasha - quickly picking up her own pace as to not allow Sasha the rest from sensation. She pumped in and out of Sasha until she couldn't tell what kind of fluid had been squirting out of the woman. Becky just couldn't care if it was blood, nor did she want to stop.
This was as close as she'd ever get to truly injuring Sasha. Penalties were real for as long as the injury dealt with the company's most prized possession. It's not that she wasn't, but that Sasha was too.
Becky only stopped around the time that Sasha had exploded for at least the seventh time, her limbs growing limp each time that she came. By the time Becky was done, and let Sasha go, she immediately fell to the ground - confused as to what she was supposed to feel.
But Becky knew all it takes was a few minutes for Sasha to be up and bratty.
"Don't test me again."
With having the final say, Becky caught the kinesiology tapes that had originally brought her to Sasha's locker and walked out. She hadn't been able to process what the fuck just happened in there until after she had stepped out of Sasha's room.
A mixture of guilt, satisfaction, curiosity, and lust had started to creep into Becky's consciousness and it doesn't look like she would have enough sleep for the night. In the sea of thoughts that had plagued her, one thing stood out:
That Sasha won, and Becky played straight into Sasha's palms.