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The next week, Frontier Pro rolled into Richmond, Virginia. Tré and Brandon arrived together as they always did. Brandon flew in from Pittsburgh with Tré, as he’d spent their off days at his boyfriend’s apartment. The time together was well spent. Partly because they’d discussed how their reunited tag team would function and how they would manage working together while dating. The rest of the time they’d worked on Brandon’s concerns with sex.
He’d still been worried that Tré would feel like too much was expected of him. But his amazing boyfriend had shown him—in the bed, the shower, and twice on the couch—that Brandon’s pleasure was important. And the one time Brandon felt a release wasn’t going to happen, Tré had been true to his word. He’d asked Brandon what he wanted to do. Brandon had been honest and admitted that he wanted to get Tré off but wasn’t up for trying to reach his own climax.
After Tré’s release, he’d pulled Brandon into his arms, gently caressing and soothing him until that mental block disappeared and his unmet arousal eased. Although he wasn’t sated, Brandon’s head and body relaxed, which was a hundred times better than the embarrassed, impotent frustration he usually experienced when he wasn’t able to climax. He’d fallen asleep in Tré’s arms, peaceful and content. His faith that Tré wanted to stay with him grew stronger by the day. They were closer than ever and Brandon had never been happier.
Now they were backstage in Richmond’s sports arena, preparing to film a segment with the Hampton Bros that would air before Tré’s live match coming up in the next hour. Brandon had on his old Pittsburgh Power Machine tights and so did Tré. Brandon looked at his partner in his red trunks. While he had no intention of ever again wearing the gear he’d sported at GWS, he mourned Tré’s shiny gold tights. Something had to be done to get his magnificent ass back in gold spandex.
The producer started counting them in and Brandon had to put daydreaming about his boyfriend’s butt on hold. They started the segment mid-conversation, following the loose script Brandon had written out on the plane.
“Man, it’s good to have you back,” Tré said once the camera was rolling. “You saved my ass last week.”
“No problem,” Brandon said with a grin. “I’m ready for Pittsburgh Power Machine to own the tag division again.” They started their team handshake, but before they could finish, someone slammed into Brandon’s back. He spun around to see the Hampton Bros standing behind him, with matching pale blue sweaters casually tossed over their shoulders, a smug smirk on Brad’s dark brown face and a sneer on Chad’s overly tanned one.
“Careful, Tré,” Chad said. “I wouldn’t go making plans with the man who betrayed you and left you high and dry in the ring.”
Brad sniffed. “Definitely don’t turn your back on him since he’s a backstabber.”
Brandon bristled at the insult. “You’re the coward who attacked him from behind.”
Brad got in Brandon’s face, but Tré stepped in between them, shielding Brandon. “We made our peace with what happened. So you can stay out of our business.”
Brad didn’t back down. “He made it our business when he ran down to interfere in the beating you deserved.” He took a step closer. “But don’t worry. We’ll pick it back up later.”
At that threat, Brandon stepped around Tré to lunge at Brad, but Tré held him back. “It’s cool, B. They’re mad because they know I could have taken those tag titles off them by myself, but now that you’re back, it’s a sure bet.”
Chad and Brad looked at each other and laughed. Then without warning they both attacked.
The ensuing four-man brawl was ugly. The Hampton Bros knocked Tré backward over a stack of boxes, trapping him between them and the wall. While Tré was momentarily out of the picture, they both jumped on Brandon. Brad tackled him to the floor. He held Brandon down while Chad picked up a heavy steel bar and slammed it against Brandon’s left arm, once. Then again and again. Pain-filled screams tore from Brandon’s throat with each blow.
An enraged roar came from behind the boxes just before they exploded outward and crashed to the ground. Tré barreled to Brandon’s side, swinging wildly at Chad.
The Hampton Bros scrambled back out of his reach, Chad narrowly avoiding Tré’s fist. They took off, laughing nastily over their shoulders.
Tré kneeled down and helped Brandon sit up. He gently cradled Brandon’s injured arm while furiously glaring after the Hampton Bros until the red light on the camera went off.
“That was perfect,” the producer said with a pleased nod.
“Right on.” Brandon got to his feet, extending a hand to pull Tré up as well.
Chad and Brad came back, and together the four of them helped the backstage crew set to rights everything they’d knocked down during the brawl.
“Nice work, boys,” Tré said as he shook Chad’s hand.
“Thanks. We’ll see you guys out there later.”
The Hampton Bros left, going toward the locker room. Tré and Brandon lingered.
“That felt good.” Brandon said as he grinned up at his partner.
“Yes, it did.” Tré gripped Brandon beneath his arms, picked him up, and plopped him on one of the large crates that transported the set equipment.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m a little excited I get to work with you again,” Tré said as he stepped close.
Brandon laughed. “Uh, I’m excited too.”
Tré arched an eyebrow and silently waited.
“Oh!” Brandon’s quickly dropped his gaze to Tré’s crotch then raised it back to his face. “That kind of excited. Come here then, big man.”
Tré shook his head. “Nope. I want to make you feel good.”
A shiver of arousal swept down Brandon’s spine, but he still put up a hesitant protest. “Tré, we don’t have time. Your match is up soon.”
“Relax.” Tré brushed a light kiss over the frown pulling at the corner of Brandon’s mouth. “We have time. And remember, if it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen.”
“What if I end up having to go out there with a boner?”
“You won’t.”
Tré kissed Brandon again, sliding his hand into the loose curls at his nape to massage his scalp. He kept up both the kiss and massage until the tension eased from Brandon’s neck and shoulders. Then he slowly slid his hand down, thumbing a pebbled nipple, trailing fingers over ridged abs and finally, rubbing over the growing bulge behind Brandon’s tight spandex. Brandon moaned into his lover’s mouth, just barely remembering to keep it quiet.
“Do you like that?” Tré asked between kisses.
“Yes.” He trailed off on another moan when Tré squeezed his cock.
“And do you want me to keep going?”
Brandon spread his legs open wider and drew Tré closer to him with a foot hooked around the back of his knee. “Fuck. Yes.”
Tré breathed a laugh against Brandon’s lips. “Raise your hips.”
Brandon blinked up at Tré before bracing himself on the trunk so he could lift his ass up, balancing there as Tré slowly peeled the skintight briefs down his hips to free his stiff erection. A gasp slipped from his throat as the cool air touched his naked flesh. He’d never done anything like this before. He wanted it, but he was nervous. “Tré,” Brandon whispered. “Somebody might come.”
“Somebody is about to come,” Tré teased.
Brandon laughed, but it choked off into silence when Tré squatted and licked the head of his cock. Tré swirled his tongue around, making Brandon gasp and grip the side of the trunk he sat on. He brought a hand up, cupping the back of his boyfriend’s head.
Tré pulled off to whisper, “That’s it, baby, guide me.”
He dropped his mouth back over Brandon’s cock. When Brandon tentatively pushed him down once, Tré encouraged him with a little growl that vibrated along his entire length. Brandon grew bolder, pushing Tré down on his dick with increasing confidence and speed. Tré allowed it, sucking Brandon without hesitation until he was shaking and gasping as he stared at the dark head bobbing between his legs. Tré pulled off again, but continued to use his hand, keeping Brandon on the edge as he stroked.
“I love you so much,” he said as he looked up at Brandon. “You’re an amazing partner, B, and I’m so happy that we get to work together again.” He lowered his head back down and licked Brandon from base to tip. “And you taste so good.”
Brandon’s thighs trembled, his belly clenched tight. He was definitely going to come. His release pulsed just beneath his skin, and his cock throbbed as Tré stroked him. Brandon dropped his head back, teeth digging into his bottom lip, nostrils flared as he breathed through the sensations flooding his body. Tré laced the fingers of their free hands together, giving him the connection he needed.
“Let go, baby,” Tré said in a rough whisper.
“Fuck.” Brandon softly cursed as his body did as commanded. He looked down in time to see Tré catch the first spurt on his tongue before he sucked him in again, swallowing the rest. Brandon squeezed his legs tight, trapping Tré between them as he shuddered and moaned through his climax. When he finally went limp, Tré pulled off and stood up straight. Brandon let Tré do the work to wiggle him back into his tights since he wasn’t yet capable of moving.
***
Tré couldn’t help the satisfied smile that curled his lips as he looked at his sated boyfriend. Brandon was slumped over, skin flushed, shoulders rising and falling with his still heaving breaths. He loved being able to make it past his boyfriend’s mental blocks so he could experience the pleasure he deserved.
Tré stepped in closer between his boyfriend’s spread thighs, rocking against him. He was prepared to let Brandon rest and get himself off. But Brandon suddenly came alive, yanking Tré’s tights down and taking his cock in hand. Tré resumed their kiss as Brandon pumped him with a tight fist, bracing his hands on the trunk his lover sat on so he could thrust into the tight grasp taking him closer and closer to climax.
He got there quickly and bit down on Brandon’s lip to muffle his groan as he exploded into his boyfriend’s hand. He kept moving his hips, sliding his cock through the wet mess that covered his lover’s fingers.
When he grew sensitive, he pulled his hips back but stayed where he was, breathing hard into the curve of Brandon’s neck. That was exactly what he’d desired; to siphon off some of that excitement coursing through him at the thought of working with his boyfriend again. Now, he just wanted to stay like this for a good hour so he could—
“Yo!” a voice called out near the far end of the hallway. “Anybody seen Brandon and Tré? Their segment is coming up next.”
Tré snapped his head up. He and Brandon looked at each other with wide eyes.
“Oh, shit,” Brandon whispered.
Tré whipped his shirt over his head and used it to wipe Brandon’s fingers clean. Then he yanked his tights up and stepped back so Brandon could hop down off the trunk. They hustled to gorilla, Tré tossing the soiled shirt in a trash can along the way.
Chance looked them over when they arrived, his sharp gaze going from one to the other. A crew member jogged over and handed Brandon the arm sling he was to wear on camera.
Tré narrowed his eyes at his friend. “Before you say something snarky, I’ve seen you sneak off down a few dark hallways with Devin.”
Chance put on the most absurdly fake innocent expression. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”
Tré didn’t believe his friend for an instant, but he turned away and helped Brandon get his sling adjusted.
Once he was ready, they stood just behind the curtain, waiting to go out.
“We just gave new meaning to the phrase coming to the ring,” Brandon whispered right before their music hit.
Tré barked a laugh at that. He had to hurriedly smother it and get his game face on as they went out in front of the audience. Inside his head, he was still smiling. This was the best, walking down the ramp with his best friend and lover at his side, the crowd cheering for them both. He had everything he’d ever wanted. He looked over at Brandon, watching his partner happily smiling and waving to the fans. Well, almost everything. There was still more he wanted from their relationship, and after this loop, he was going to make a secret trip to help him get it.
***
Brandon stood ringside, shouting encouragement to Tré as he fought to get out of a figure four leg-lock. He knew this match wasn’t going to go to a finish, but he really liked the way Tré was building to a win. A tiny voice tried to sneak in and tell him he was ruining Tré’s singles career, but Brandon resolutely shoved it back. Tré was grown and knew how to handle his career. If he hadn’t wanted to team with Brandon again, he wouldn’t have asked to. Besides, just because they were a tag team now, didn’t mean they always had to be. And he was okay with that. Brandon trusted that regardless of whether they were partners in the squared circle, they would still be together.
The crowd cheered as Tré got loose from the submission hold. Brandon slowly started walking toward the side of the ring with the announcers table. He continued to cheer Tré on, pumping the fist of his non-injured arm in the air when Tré came close to victory with a two-count. Tré had just caught the other wrestler in a bear hug when a sudden swell of noise caught Brandon’s attention.
He turned in time to see a flash of robin’s egg blue out of the corner of his eye, but he wasn’t fast enough to defend himself against the blindside attack. He went down after a blow to the side of his head, but Chad dragged him back to his feet. The other wrestler ripped Brandon’s sling off and slammed his arm against the announcers table. Brandon screamed at the renewed attack on his injured arm, rolling on the ground in pain. He heard Tré shout his name, then the ref calling for the bell as Tré abandoned his match. He jumped out of the ring to come and help him, but Brad was there, blocking the way.
Again, the four of them brawled. Brandon did the best he could with one arm, but couldn’t stop Chad from grabbing him and tossing him in the ring. Tré and Brad continued to fight on the outside while Chad hopped up on the top rope, ready to hit Brandon with his elbow drop. Brandon pushed himself to his feet, staggered over, and shoved at Chad’s legs. The man lost his balance and tumbled to the floor. Brad stopped fighting with Tré and ran over to help his partner. They started escaping up the ramp while Brandon went over and demanded a microphone from the ring announcer.
“Hold up, Hampton Bros!” he yelled into the mic. “You both are cowards! Always attacking from behind. How about you both man-up and face us in a real match?”
From the middle of the ramp, both Chad and Brad shouted back that they accepted.
Brandon held his hand up. “I’m not finished, you silver spoon punks.” He paused, breathing heavily into the microphone. “Pittsburgh Power Machine doesn’t fight for grins and giggles. If we’re fighting, it’s for the Frontier Pro tag team championships. So, what’s it gonna be? You gonna back out like a couple of cowards or will you put those titles on the line?”
Chad and Brad stared at each other for a moment before they determinedly nodded.
At their acceptance, Brandon smiled with satisfaction, dropping the mic as the Pittsburgh Power Machine music blasted. He let his “injured” arm hang limp at his side and did a quick handshake and chest bump with Tré before they left the ring.
Backstage, a good chunk of the roster still sat in the viewing area, watching on the big TV since the main event hadn’t happened yet.
“Nice work. You sold that busted arm like a champ,” Devin said.
Brandon grinned. “Thanks.”
Tré slung an arm around Brandon’s shoulder, squeezing him in a jostling hug. “My little man knows how to work that crowd.”
“Hey!” Brandon exclaimed in indignation. “Just because you’re six-three and two hundred forty pounds while I’m...not, doesn’t mean you can call me little man.”
Everybody laughed. Brandon went over to drop down in the seat next to Lorena, while Tré sat behind him next to Devin. “You ready for this?” he asked his friend.
Lorena and Yasmina were about to have a cage match for the women’s championship. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“You’ll both kill it. Can’t wait to see you jump off the top of that cage.”
Joe came over just as Brandon finished speaking and stopped in front of Lorena. “You might as well not even go out,” he said with a smirk.
Lorena looked up at him, the sinister Lady Death face paint enhancing her clear annoyance. “Why not?”
Joe put his phone right in her face. “Because Pro Graps Report just spoiled the finish.”
“What?” Lorena snatched the phone out of his hand and quickly read. “Oh my God. I’ve got to go and talk to Alex.” She tossed the cell back and jumped up to run to gorilla. The group quieted, the mood turning sour once she was gone.
Brandon stared in the direction his friend had gone. He hated that such a big moment had been ruined for her. “This is out of control,” he said sadly.
Joe scoffed. “Like you’re surprised.”
Brandon snapped his head around to glare at Joe. “Okay, man, I’m sick of this. Why don’t you be upfront and say what you’re thinking instead of jokingly accusing me and gossiping in corners behind my back?”
Joe’s neck went stiff, but he squared his shoulders. “Fine. I think you’re the one behind the leaks.”
Devin leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why don’t you lay off, man? None of us know who it is and spreading rumors around isn’t helping anybody. We all just need to focus on making this show the best we can and let Alex figure out what’s going on with the leak.”
“You’re one to talk,” Joe sneered at Devin. “Seeing as how you’ve only got your championship and spot on the card thanks to who you’re sleeping with every night.”
“What?” Devin started to get out of his chair but Brandon stopped him.
“I got this.” Brandon stood up and faced Joe. “Keep going. Get all of your bitter, wrong-headed crap out at once.”
“I’m not wrong,” Joe snapped. “What I am is sick of everyone acting like this company is on some damn moral high ground, when Devin is the Juniors Champ because he’s fucking the booker and you and your boyfriend are in the tag title picture because Tré is best friends with the booker. And who knows what Lorena and Yasmina had to do for the women to get a main event cage match. With all that going on, there’s no way a guy like me can get a fair shot at a good spot on the card.”
“That’s a lot of ugly accusations. Are you done?”
Joe set his jaw but didn’t respond.
“Good. Stand here and listen.” Brandon stepped closer, getting right in Joe’s face. “Maybe instead of spending all your damn time worrying about what you think people did to get their spots, you should work on your own shit. When’s the last time you made a heel look good in the ring? Do you promote yourself on social media? I see you stroll out of the arena with your sunglasses on at night like an idiot and peel out of the parking lot without ever stopping to wave at the fans. The fact is, you can wrestle, but that’s all you bring to the table. That’s why you’re stuck at the bottom of the card. Not because of who anybody in this company is fucking.”
Joe took a step back. His mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. He clearly couldn’t think of anything to say, so he ended up looking like a fish sucking in water. The rookie looked around the group, but all he saw was a dozen hard faces staring back at him without a lick of sympathy. Finally, Joe spun around and stalked off. No one said a word as he left.
Devin eventually broke the silence. “Glad you spoke up, B. I’m shit at promos, so I would have just punched him in the face.”
Quiet laughter killed the tension gripping the group, and Brandon sat back down. Tré rubbed his shoulders, leaning forward to whisper in his ear. “Good job.”
Brandon smiled at the praise. He gave Tré a quick thanks as the brief flare of anger at Joe and his bullshit drained away. Devin scooted up and braced his arms on the back of Brandon’s chair.
“I won’t be a hypocrite and name any names, but we really do need to find the rat bastard who’s selling us out to GWS and the dirt sheets.”
Brandon turned and faced his friend. “Has Chance said anything?”
Devin shook his head. “Not to me. But I’ve noticed they’ve randomly changed up a few matches at the last minute, so they must be laying a few traps.”
“I think it’s a ref.”
Brandon, Tré, and Devin all looked at Kenji, who’d quietly offered that opinion.
“Why’s that?” Tré asked.
“I’m not saying I don’t count the refs as part of the club because I do. But they have less to lose than we do when results are spoiled. And they know what’s going down in each of the matches they’re reffing every night.” Kenji shrugged. “Then again, it could be Joe, and all his posturing is a front to throw everybody off. Or another disgruntled wrestler.”
“I’ll mention that to Chance,” Devin said. If he and Alex haven’t thought of it already, maybe they can start tracking leaks and see if any of them lead back to a particular ref.”
“This is wild. Wrestling espionage,” Tré said.
Brandon nodded in agreement. But just then the creepy string music of Lady Death’s entrance theme hit. Brandon let the topic drop so he could watch the monitor, ready to cheer his friends on in their main event match.
***
The night ended on a disappointing note. Lady Death and Yasmina put on an amazing show. But Lorena didn’t jump off the cage as planned, and she didn’t pick up the win. It was easy for them to see her genuine disappointment when Yasmina pinned her. When they’d returned backstage, she and Yasmina had silently embraced for a long time. Everyone else stayed away, realizing that both women were in an uncomfortable situation. After that, Lorena took off with her girlfriend, without bothering to change out of her gear.
Their mood low after seeing Lorena’s opportunity taken away, Tré and Brandon showered quickly before leaving the arena and heading down the highway. At the hotel, Tré walked in behind Brandon. His boyfriend had been quiet for nearly the entire drive there, but Tré waited until they were in their hotel room before he mentioned it. “We’ve got almost as much drama backstage as we do in front of the cameras.”
Brandon sighed tiredly and sat on the bed to kick off his shoes. “Yeah. Sucks we’re caught up in it. Let’s get some sleep.” He pulled his shirt over his head.
“Nope.”
Brandon’s head popped free of the shirt, and he looked at Tré with his eyebrows raised.
Tré sat down next to him. “No running away, remember? That includes mental running too. Let’s talk about what happened tonight.”
Brandon flopped onto his back. “You know what? I’m not even that mad at Joe. Some people are just bitter. But I am mad at myself.”
“Why?”
“Because. I basically told him he needs to fight for a better spot on the card. But when I was in the same situation, I didn’t fight. I took the easy road and left.”
Tré’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “What? That wasn’t the same situation at all. You were being harassed by their talent and the front office let him do it. No one is harassing Joe. His issues all stem from thinking he’s too good to put any damn work in besides the bare minimum.”
“Yeah, but still. I should have tried to fight back. All I did was keep my head down before I finally had enough and left.”
“Hey.” Tré tugged Brandon upright so he could look him in the eye. “You don’t have to stay in an environment where you’re hated on just because of who you are. It’s a great thing when people are able to stand up and fight back, but sometimes you have to look out for yourself. Especially when you don’t have anybody there to have your back.”
“You stayed at your school when everyone turned on you after you were outed,” Brandon pointed out.
“I wanted to stay so I didn’t affect my college prospects, but who knows if I would have managed to stick it out if my coach hadn’t stood up for me and told the team my sexuality didn’t matter? In the end, I did what I had to do to better my chances for what I hoped would be my career. You did the same for yours.”
Brandon scooted forward and tucked his face into Tré’s neck. “You’re so perfect. Thank you for saying that.”
Tré laughed into Brandon’s hair. “I’m not perfect at all. You came back, and I immediately reverted to letting you handle all the promos. That’s me taking the easy road.”
Brandon leaned away. He blinked once then looked up at Tré with his eyes wide. “I didn’t even realize that happened.”
He looked so adorably confused Tré couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on his nose. “Neither of us are perfect, B. And that’s okay.”
The confusion cleared from Brandon’s face. “You know what? You’re right. I didn’t want to stick around where I wasn’t wanted, and if you don’t want to do promos, then don’t. Let’s work on the things that we’re good at and take time to build up the rest.”
Tré smiled. “Sounds good to me.” He rubbed Brandon’s back. “Now, we can go to sleep.”
“Or...” Brandon let the word hang in the air, a wicked smile gleaming in his eyes.
Tré brushed a thumb over Brandon’s mouth. “Or?”
“Or we could act out that wet dream I had about you a while back.” His eyes on Tré’s, he licked over the pad of Tré’s thumb, then lowered his lashes and sucked the digit into his mouth.
Tré groaned. After a few moments, he pulled his thumb out, sliding it over Brandon’s tongue and slightly tugging his bottom lip down along the way.
Brandon looked up and ran his tongue over his bottom lip. “Promos aren’t the only thing I can do with my mouth.”
“Let’s see what you got then, shorty.”
Brandon smiled and slid to the floor on his knees.
