FUCK-SWAG

How Orange Cassidy just remained still on the mat, staring up at the bright lights with a bloodied face, his vision barely there as Wild Thing blasted across the arena, combined together with the mixed reaction of the fans that had stood up from their seats to mostly applaud the competitors after such an incredibly fierce battle.

Kip could feel his throat tightening as he watched the rest of Blackpool Combat Club make their way out to the ringside to celebrate Moxley and his title victory.

He didn’t remember much after that. Having to watch Cassidy endure the match took almost as much out of him as it did the now former champion, if Kip was being honest. Of course, these two things didn’t really compare, at least to the people who didn’t know about the thoughts desperately rolling around in the Brit’s head.

How this was all his fault.

Best Friends and Kris had walked Cassidy from the ring, escorting him to the medical officers to get patched up. Kip didn’t want to accompany them, Cassidy was out of it enough already without him butting in there to show extra amounts of concern as well. Kip couldn’t face him right now, as they had helped Cassidy backstage and past him in the waiting area, he had it barely in him to look at his boyfriend.

Nobody questioned it. But everyone could probably sense that something wasn’t right.

Maybe they knew this was his fault.

Kip couldn’t look Cassidy in the eyes when he was helped in their rental car, Cassidy barely sitting upright on the passenger seat. Kip was handed a bag of bandages and such, made sure that they would get changed first thing in the morning, if not sooner. He didn’t remember who told him that, but Kip assured them it would be done. In all honesty he wasn’t sure if he could hold such a promise, but it felt so good to lie right there and then.

Cassidy’s hand almost blindly searched for his, Kip hesitating a little to allow the touch but the blond’s distress was more important to calm down than his own dislike to be touched under the circumstances. Kip was just hoping Cassidy didn’t notice it, how icky the goosebumps his fingertips running along Kip’s skin made were. He tried to not think about it, just focusing on driving them back to the hotel. Cassidy needed rest. That was his one and only priority tonight.

The way Kip watched Cassidy fall down to the hotel bed as soon as he was inside the room made his heart ache. The heavy breathing, the eyes that were usually so bright at this time of the day barely remained open. He was so tired, beaten, bruised, battered. Been through hell and back and Kip couldn’t do anything to help him.

In all the potential ways, he was convinced that he only made it worse.

Without a word Kip excused himself to the bathroom, uncharacteristically locking the door after himself. Not that it mattered, chances that Cassidy would walk in were incredibly low, but he needed a guaranteed moment of peace, as stupid as that probably sounded. Avoiding eye contact with himself in the mirror, Kip walked up to the sink, turning the water on as cold as possible as he washed his face a few times.

Maybe he was just being a bit overly sensitive after witnessing all of that. All the blood, the screams, the hurt look on Cassidy’s face that was going to haunt his dreams for a good few weeks to come. Thinking about the pain the blond had to go through during all of that, even if no weapons were used, he was still in this kind of a state, both physically and mentally completely out of it.

If only Kip had managed to do something to prevent all of that.

With shaky hands he turned the water off, watching the little pool of it disappear from the sink slowly, Kip didn’t dare to face himself in the mirror. Blindly he reached for a nearby towel, drying his face. The soft fabric against his face, blocking out the lights was the first comforting thing he had felt for what felt like hours. Usually darkness came with its own demons he had to endure, but tonight it felt like the place to be.

Kip slowly let the towel drop from his face, leaving it at the edge of the sink as he exited the bedroom. Maybe it was obvious from his face how disappointed he was that Cassidy was still awake as he re-entered into the hotel room, watching the blond barely hold himself up in a sitting position at the edge of the bed, as he got slightly furrowed brows back from him.

“…Kip?”

Without replying Kip turned on his heels, walking back into the bathroom. He grabbed the towel back into his hands, turning the water on, running the towel underneath it a little. Turning everything off again he returned to the room, walking up to Cassidy, taking a seat on the edge of the bed next to him, carefully turning the blond to face him. Kip winced a little at the soft whine Cassidy let out against the touch, but pushed forward as he tried to be as gentle as possible while pressing the wet towel against his face, carefully trying to wipe away the remaining traces of blood that the medical crew hadn’t bothered to clean up.

“…Are you okay?”

Kip stopped for a brief moment, pondering over the question, but ultimately remained silent as he continued his cleanup work. Cassidy didn’t stop him, but his quiet voice was clearly very heavy in the almost suffocatingly small hotel room, the walls trapping him as Kip tried to pay them no mind, just focused on trying to clean the traces of dried blood from the blond’s brow line.

“Talk to me.”

It was obvious at this point that Kip was avoiding eye contact with him, no matter how much Cassidy tried to establish that connection. Kip cleaned him up to the best of his ability, refused to say a word, every word that left Cassidy’s mouth after that sounding more and more desperate in their pleas.

Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong. Are you okay. Did I do something. Are you mad at me.

Kip did want to answer to a few of those, but the longer he remained silent the easier it became to resist the urge. He wasn’t okay. Cassidy didn’t do anything. Kip could never be mad at him.

“Is it…” Cassidy turned away, forcing Kip’s hands off of his face, making him almost flinch to a halt with the towel in his hands. “Is it because I lost?”

Kip looked at him, the sad side of his face as Cassidy’s blue eyes scanned the rest of the room, trying to find something to hang onto while he waited for some sort of a response from the Brit. Biting his lip, Kip finally forced a soft cough out of himself, clearing his voice a little.

“No. It’s not your fault.”

Cassidy nodded, turning back towards him, for the first time managing to establish eye contact with Kip, making him immediately regret it as Kip could see the pain and hurt in him even more clearly than at any point before that night immediately.

“Then tell me. Why are you like this?”

As much as he wanted to, Kip couldn’t look away now that he was trapped in those mesmerizing, hauntingly sad blue eyes of his.

“I’m supposed to be the one in pain here.”

He was right, and Kip knew that much. He lowered the towel from his hands, handing it over to Cassidy who barely took a hold of it, watching Kip struggling to find the words to continue. He wasn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words so instead Kip reached his hand for his pocket, Cassidy watching in growing confusion as Kip pulled out his phone, starting to search for something.

After some agonizing seconds Kip handed it over to him, Cassidy’s eyes slowly tracking down to the device, watching as Kip swiped through some screenshots.

“Every single time you’ve had an important title defense,” he stated, watching as Cassidy nodded as he was slowly reading through the screenshots of a few tweets that Kip had been making over the past couple of months, “I rooted for you. Publicly, out in the open, on social media. This… This time, tonight, I…”

“You didn’t.”

Kip nodded slowly, pulling the phone back into his possession, clicking the screen shut. “I didn’t. And I know it’s just stupid superstition, but I can’t help but to feel a little bit responsible about what happened out there tonight because I… I didn’t do this one fucking thing.”

Biting his lip Kip hung his head, not daring to look at Cassidy at the moment. It was all so stupid, but at the same time it was something he found himself genuinely believing in. It had happened too many times to be a mere coincidence, and the one that it would have mattered, Kip hadn’t made sure to do it. Superstition or not, he couldn’t help but to feel a little bit responsible over what happened; not only the loss, but the pain, the suffering, the tears that were left in that ring tonight.

Because he had been a fool. There was no other way someone like Orange Cassidy would have lost such an important title match otherwise.

Cassidy hummed quietly, the soft sound breaking Kip’s thought process. He didn’t look up, but he felt a hand sneaking its way into his lap, fitting itself together with one of his hands with ease. Cassidy was clearly still very out of it, there barely being any power behind the squeeze his hand gave to Kip’s, but the effort was obviously there. Kip didn’t dare to squeeze his hand back in acknowledgment of his efforts, in fear that he might break something more than he had already done.

“I don’t care.”

Kip’s eyes narrowed a little, him stealing a look towards Cassidy under his brows. The blond wasn’t looking back at him, instead his eyes were looking around the hotel room again. But Kip was able to see the soft little smile tucking the corner of his lips.

“I don’t care that you didn’t do it. I don’t care if you believe it. The better man won tonight and there’s nothing a silly little tweet could change about that.”

Somewhere in the back of his head Kip felt like he should be insulted by those words, but the rational part of him knew Cassidy was right. He could feel another little squeeze of his hand, this time Kip responding back to it by running his thumb over the dried blood on his knuckles.

“All I care is that you’re here now, no matter what happened.”

Cassidy finally turned back towards him, watching as Kip lifted his head up before leaning closer, pressing a soft, still slightly hesitating kiss against Cassidy’s lips, Kip trying his best to ignore the slight taste of iron he was catching from the blond’s lips.