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Going Nuclear

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Tommaso did not expect signing a WWE contract to change anything with Johnny. They'd known each other for years. Johnny was someone Tommaso could have a beer, a laugh and a great match with. And they could do all of that despite how different they were. Johnny watched a lot of Disney for one thing and collected Power Ranger merchandise – when he told Tommaso how much he'd paid for some kind of rare replica helmet, Tommaso had nearly tossed his beer across the table.

 

 

But Johnny was too fucking likeable for that. Tommaso knew enough assholes that he hated even making eye contact with, and talking to and working with. Tommaso liked teaming with Johnny; they had an immediate chemistry, and they got the crowd behind them in a way Tommaso had never realy experienced before working solo.

 

 

Fact was though, there was one thing about Johnny that Tommaso really couldn't understand. It was Johnny's...innocence. In the wrestling business that kind of thing did not last long. It got smeared and gutted and people changed, a lot. Johnny had grown up, matured, in a really non-cynical way. It was pretty much a miracle. Somehow Johnny still had this beautiful wide-eyed look, like he couldn't believe where he was and how amazing it all was. It was the kind of thing Tommaso had learned to hide quick when he was young so that no one tried stiffing him on pay or who he rode with or any number of fucking ways people got screwed. Johnny hadn't lost it; he still looked around in wonder.

 

 

He was so kind about everyone too. He didn't bitch about anyone, and he didn't even mutter quietly like Tommaso did, keeping out of earshot of anyone in a suit, when something or someone got him mad. Johnny just laughed. He didn't complain, he always talked about how good things were, how much he was learning and how awesome it was they were getting to be on NXT TV.

 

 

Tommaso expected him to burst into song at any moment, like a Disney prince. Fuck, Johnny was a Disney prince.

 

 

Tommaso mocked him for it, Johnny usually lit up and asked if Tommaso had watched the latest film Johnny had been obsessing about. There was literally no way to take the shine off of him. The office loved him – of course they did, Johnny looked picture-perfect in and out of a suit and said all the right things and the fans chanted Johnny Wrestling all the time. The fans definitely loved him. Tommaso...Tommaso loved him as a friend and any other feelings that had started unexpectedly creeping over him made him feel dirty and reach for another handful of beers.

 

 

Because Johnny was one of the few guys Tommaso knew in the business who hadn't ever boasted about how often he got laid. He mentioned girlfriends, in a wholesome date kind of way. So maybe he wasn't a complete innocent but he never offered any details. Not that Tommaso was looking for any.

 

 

Johnny was a Disney prince and Tommaso was absolutely not going to do anything to make Johnny scream instead of sing.

 

 

Tommaso went out and got drunk a lot in Florida.

 

 

Johnny drank beer too, right out of the bottle and his mouth got all shiny and Tommaso had to stop thinking about making it shiny in any other way. He groaned and turned in for the night with some really fantastic frustrated dreams. Johnny looked concerned the next day.

 

 

“Are you sleeping okay, man? Only there was some noise coming through the walls...”

 

 

Tommaso grimaced, “Getting through some weird dreams.”

 

 

Johnny didn't push. Of course he didn't. He and Tommaso shared an apartment, it made sense financially and they were working as a team so it was good for bonding and all the shit WWE liked to film for the Network. At least they had to call first before filming anything. Outside of that, Tommaso tried to time it so that he wasn't around when Johnny exited the bathroom in a perfect cloud of steam, his hair slicked wetly back and his body looking dewy and like something Tommaso would have a fucking great time messing up.

 

 

Things were going really well. The office liked their work, the fans were buying their t-shirt. Tommaso was not going to ruin Johnny and ruin the golden run they were powering through just because for some reason all the time they'd been spending together had made Tommaso look at Johnny crazier than usual. Johnny had the kind of face that showed everything. He wasn't going to be able to hide his shame, horror or disgust if anything happened, because Johnny was obviously a stare-into-their-eyes and wooing kind of guy. Tommaso did not woo.

 

 

And the office? They'd see it too and they'd can Tommaso and cut off Johnny's momentum and take him off TV for repackaging or whatever. And Tommaso was not going to be one of the guys he'd always hated on the indies.

 

 

Johnny hugged him way too much, like he really meant it, not a bro-hug at all. He hugged Tommaso after they lost their first title shot, his face all beautifully sad because he'd tapped out and he didn't want Tommaso mad at him and he'd held onto Tommaso for a long time, his touch way too much like a caress. Tommaso had wanted to kiss him and a whole lot more in the first storage place they found because he had a lot to let out and Johnny clearly needed something to make him feel good and...no. No, no. So Tommaso had avoided him until he'd been able to be around Johnny again without tensing and grabbing. Tommaso's dreams had only gotten more vivid and Johnny was definitely hearing noises through the wall again because he kept wearing a really appealing concerned face in the mornings.

 

 

Disney prince, Disney prince.

 

 

“What?”

 

 

Tommaso realized he'd been muttering to himself in the kitchen and quickly shook his head, reaching for the fridge where an ice-cold beer oasis awaited him. Johnny had been locked in his room for a while, probably calling his Mom like he did every week. Now Johnny was standing there, staring at Tommaso with a weird half-smile on his face. Tommaso grabbed a beer and headed towards the lounge to hole up on the couch. But Johnny, in a too-threadbare t-shirt and shorts with no shoes, followed him.

 

 

He waited until Tommaso sat down to say, “Did you just call me a Disney prince?”

 

 

Tommaso coughed out a laugh. Johnny was still wearing that weird smile. “Told you my dreams were getting weird, man.”

 

 

Johnny bit his lip thoughtfully, Tommaso did not groan but Johnny's smile grew until it looked more like a smirk. That was strange, for Johnny.

 

 

“Is that what you think?”

 

 

Johnny didn't wait for an answer because he fucking straddled Tommaso without any warning, hands planting themselves on the back of the couch, framing Tommaso's face. Tommaso was probably the one wide-eyed now, with his pulse a mile-a-minute, his whole body beginning to feel like it was on fire, and trying to get his beer out of harm's way because he was gonna fucking drop it. Johnny wasn't wide-eyed. He looked way too smirky, nothing like a Disney prince at all. How many fucking beers had Tommaso had tonight??

 

 

Johnny rocked his hips forward and eyeballed Tommaso with a kind of deliberate heat that made Tommaso want to grab his hips and push up. No, no. Clearly, Johnny had been drinking and he'd regret this, big time. Tommaso definitely would once the office got word.

 

 

“I haven't had a beer since last night,” Johnny announced conversationally, hips still rocking. “And I've been trying to figure out why you haven't made a move, especially that night when we didn't get the titles. I think I've always been pretty obvious. So I thought it was a 'for the good of the tag team' nobility thing. Now I get it, you think I've got too much virtue to rob.”

 

 

Here he thrust extra hard and Tommaso groaned, his head falling back, his body going nuclear, and Johnny let out a satisfied answering moan.

 

 

“I know you know I'm good in the ring but I am so good out of it too,” he stated.

 

 

He was still smirking and almost laughing. Tommaso growled. Johnny took a sharp breath and rocked his hips quicker. Oh that was good.

 

 

“I love what we're doing in NXT. I also know what the office likes selling. The 'tough guy and sweetheart' thing we do, it's working. I think this could work too.”

 

 

He rocked his hips even quicker and Tommaso was so hard now it was fucking ridiculous. Johnny kissed him, with a kind of filthy tongue flick that made Tommaso finally clamp his hands to Johnny's hips and thrust back. Johnny bit Tommaso's bottom lip and groaned guttually. Whatever Tommaso had dreamed dirtily, he had not dreamed Johnny's response ever being like this,

 

 

Johnny pulled back and slid off of Tommaso's lap, running a hand over the top of Tommaso's thighs briefly with a seriously predatory expression that made Tommaso want to growl again. He watched as Johnny shimmied out of his shirt and shorts – fuck, he wasn't wearing underwear. What the hell kind of Disney prince was he?

 

 

Johnny ran a hand down his own chest then lazily palmed his cock, making Tommaso's twitch. Johnny's smirk crawled up and he meandered close, like this was a game. Was this a game? Johnny must had seen something in Tommaso's face because he looked at Tommaso with a different kind of intensity now.

 

 

“Do I want to blow off steam with someone I trust? Absolutely. Do I want this because I want you? Yes. Again, after tonight? Yes.”

 

 

He ran a hand over his cock at every 'yes' and Tommaso gritted his teeth. The wrestling business was a world of lies and sneaks at every level, it was how a lot of people got ahead and stayed at the top. Tommaso had no patience for that shit and had burned a lot of bridges by cutting through it all, by being him.

 

 

“I don't want you giving me what you fucking think I want.” he bit out, wounded, furious, hating the idea of anyone lying to him but especially Johnny.

 

 

Johnny didn't look offended. Instead, still palming his cock almost thoughtfully, he got closer until his feet touched the couch and he answered slowly.

 

 

“It's all me, and what I want. I just keep this part private.”

 

 

Tommaso couldn't imagine closing any part of himself off. There were benefits probably but lying and getting ahead by being something fake, that wasn't him. That wasn't Johnny either. Johnny was getting ahead by being himself and by protecting himself too, apparently, the stuff he didn't want used or gossiped about or all over the media probably. Yeah, they both knew guys whose careers had been killed by that shit.

 

 

His expressions had been open to Tommaso for months, or so Tommaso had thought. He knew what Johnny's face meant in almost every moment because that was what tag team partners did. It was how they won. And they were gonna win again, they were gonna win the titles. Johnny wouldn't lie in the ring, what was the point when he wanted to win too? Tommaso really looked at him and knew; Johnny wasn't lying outside the ring either. He was trusting Tommaso with this.

 

 

Johnny licked his lips, looking Tommaso over. Tommaso's fingers twitched hard. Johnny was smirking again.

 

 

“Come on.”

 

 

He was gesturing toward Tommaso's shorts, his tone almost like a dare. Tommaso narrowed his eyes but pulled shorts and boxers down, using the clothes to get shoes and socks off too. Now they were both pantless and hard. Johnny licked his lips again, slowly, his gaze rising to meet Tommaso's. Then, very deliberately, he straddled Tommaso for the second time, only now he held himself above Tommaso's lap.

 

 

Tommaso could feel the heat of him, matching Tommaso's, and there was something else; a...drip? Johnny's smirk was with teeth now. He let go of his cock at last and arched up.

 

 

“I was thinking about you, just now, getting ready...”

 

 

Tommaso's hand skimmed past Johnny's waist, back and back until he found slickness. His groan made them both tremble. Johnny had gotten ready, thinking of Tommaso. Fuck, Tommaso wanted to watch that. Without a word, Johnny reached back for Tommaso's cock, not to tease but to position. Tommaso couldn't look away; his breathing was labored and his hands were fists, waiting.

 

 

Slowly Johnny lowered himself, inch by inch, eyes fluttering shut for a moment and throat bobbing. That was real. It was all real. And Johnny was moving, he was fucking teasing, smirking again. Tommaso wanted to tear that look off his face, he wanted to bite it off. Johnny's gaze was burning like he wanted something like that too.

 

 

Tommaso growled deep in his throat, enjoying the real clear view he had of Johnny's expression rippling through changes, the effect Tommaso was having. Tommaso growled again, the heat all through him growing hotter by the second. This was real and it was private and it was his.

 

 

“I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you won't be able to run ropes tomorrow,” he promised through locked teeth.

 

 

Johnny let out a laugh, his face coloring. It wasn't embarassement. Tommaso watched keenly as color dappled down Johnny's chest too. He was gonna make matching marks there.

 

 

“Oh, I hope so,” was Johnny's reply.

 

 

Tommaso unlocked his teeth and opened his hands to fix them at Johnny's hips again. He'd let Johnny tease him for a bit, because the view was fucking pornographic – gorgeous Disney prince Johnny, fucking himself on Tommaso. Then, then, Johnny was getting couch or carpet burn all the fuck over his body. Probably both. And Tommaso was getting his bites and marks. And that was only tonight.

 

 

He'd say they were gonna fucking burn Disney to the ground but he was sure Johnny was gonna watch more of those films tomorrow. That was tomorrow though. Tommaso smirked and moved.

 

 

-the end