#austinpage

“I – not Dynamite, Jesus.” Austin sighs. “I have a reality show coming up where we’re, like, rebuilding a ranch or something, and I wanna have the vibes down.”

Hangman finally looks at him with something other than concern or annoyance. It may have a tinge of pity, but there’s a smile at the surface and Austin decides it’s worth it. “The vibes?”

Austin nods. “I’m kind of…” He trails off.

“Hollywood?” Hangman asks, and he leans against the door frame. His arm muscles bulge in his Shania Twain tee shirt and Austin misses what he’d just said.

“What?”

“Okay, so you were staring,” Hangman says. “Are you sizing me up or something?”

“Not for a fight,” Austin says, and he would regret it but then the little smile on Hangman’s lips grows and Austin feels better.

“Not – oh.” Hangman glances over his shoulder. “Come on in, baby, let’s talk in private.”

Austin’s pretty sure he’s sparking with the zing that goes up his spine, but he walks past Hangman into the room. “Talk?” he asks.

“About this,” Hangman says, gesturing up and down. “This is a bad look for a cowboy. You don’t need a hat to be a cowboy –”

“That would be, like, an amazing line,” Austin says. “For a promo or something.”

Hangman considers it. “Noted. But, anyway, you need to walk the part. Have the attitude.”

“Oh, I’m not trying to be an actual cowboy,” Austin corrects. “I just want to look pretty for the set.”

Hangman raises an eyebrow. “You think you gotta do anything new to look pretty?”

“Okay, that’s not fair,” Austin says. “You can’t be all charming when I’m asking for advice.”

“Then you can’t be pretty when you ask for advice.” His eyes flicker away, and his cheeks turn pink. Austin thinks he might be nervous. Hangman Adam Page, nervous.

Austin simply must fuck him now. “No deal,” Austin says. “I’m always pretty.”

“No shit,” Hangman mutters.

Austin steps back and locks the door to the room. “So, like, how much time do you have?”

“Time?”

Austin steps closer, hands in his front pockets. “Yeah. Time.”

Hangman glances at his watch. “Lotta time,” he mutters. “Are you, um. Sure?”

“Sure what?”

Hangman fucking blushes. He’s blushing. Austin can’t deal. “Are you sure you want – what are you asking for?”

Austin shrugs. “Whatever you’re thinking.”

“Trust me,” Hangman says, “there’s no way you know what I’m thinking.”

“Probably something about how my boots would look good on your bedroom floor, for one,” Austin suggests.

Hangman scoffs. “Only place they’d look good, baby.”

“I like it when you call me baby,” Austin says. “How do you think the boots would look on the floor of this locker room?”

Hangman licks his lips. “Not half bad.”

Austin kicks them off. “Are you too nervous to kiss me?”

“No,” Hangman says. “Get – okay, I changed my mind. You’re pretty and infuriating.”

“It’s a gift.” Hangman mutters something that sounds like new Matt Jackson, but Austin decides to ignore it in favor of stepping closer to Hangman and throwing his arms around Hangman’s neck. “C’mon. I don’t bite.”

“I do,” Hangman says, but it’s the last thing he says before leaning down and kisses Austin. It’s gentle. Austin doesn’t know why that’s unexpected – gentle makes sense for a guy like Hangman.

And then, with a groan, it’s very suddenly not gentle. Austin grins into it as Hangman pushes him back against the wall, shoving him up against it. His hands go for the hem of Austin’s shirt and shove it up.

“Fuckin’ twelve pack twenty something abs,” he growls.

“I got good genetics,” Austin says.

Hangman drops to his knees. “Yeah, you do.”

“Wait, are you – are you going to…?”

“If you want,” Hangman says, eyes wide and blue-green ocean pretty.

“You – yes? Obviously?” Austin says. “Jesus. Yes. I gotta walk the halls looking for advice more often.”

“Fuck no you don’t,” Hangman says, shoving down Austin’s sweats. “Not anymore.”

Austin makes the weirdest noise of his life at that, and it only gets worse as Hangman leans in and wraps his mouth around his cock. “Oh my god.” He thinks there are other words, somewhere in his brain, but he can’t find them. “Oh my god.”

Hangman’s got his hands on Austin’s thighs, then grabs a leg and chucks it over his shoulder. Austin damned near blacks out. The last blow job he got was from Caster, who was bitchy about it the whole time. Right now, Hangman sucks dick like he’s way into it, like he loves it, and Austin wishes he could stay cool about it.

His nails dig into Hangman’s shoulder while Hangman’s dig into his thigh, and it’s embarrassing, but he’s close.

“Hanger,” he mumbles, because he feels like he’s earned the nickname, “I – I think – I think I’m…” He fades into a whimper as Hangman takes all of him down, bobbing with expertise and intent, and then he’s melting like a pina colada on his front porch. His eyes cross, his legs shake, and he decides he has to keep Hangman Adam Page around. “You, um,” Austin finally manages to say as Hangman’s wiping his mouth on his pants as he pulls them back up Austin’s hips, “you’re good at that.”

Hangman chuckles. “Got a lot of practice. We all slutted it up in the Ring of Honor days.”

“No kidding,” Austin says. “I slutted it up with, like, everybody else.”

“Else?” Hangman asks. “Like, on this roster?”

Austin nods. He starts listing on his fingers. “Caster, once, Reynolds, Uno which was amazing, Dustin –”

“Sorry, you fucked Dustin Rhodes?!”

“No, Chuck,” Austin corrects. “But I did fuck a Rhodes. Cody.”

“Fucking Christ,” Hangman says. “I can’t believe this happened again.”

Austin raises an eyebrow. “Again?”

“Me and Cody each had, like, things with – it’s not important,” Hangman says.

“I gotta know now,” Austin says, trailing his fingertips up and down Hangman’s side. “Tell you what. Sit down on that couch and you can tell me while I blow you.”

“You drive a hard bargain,” Hangman says, walking backward. He sits down and Austin sinks to his knees in front of him.

“Gotta take those off first.”

“Let me enjoy the view,” Hangman says, grinning. “I told you you’re hot, right? Let me have a moment.”

Austin beams under the praise. “Yeah, I know. But I look even better sucking dick.”

“Guess you’ll have to prove it.”

Hangman shoves his jeans down his hips, setting his belt gently to the side, and Austin gets a look.

“Okay, they made jokes on BTE, but I didn’t realize it was serious.” Austin’s impressed and wiggles his jaw. “But I got this.”

“I – okay,” Hangman says, and Austin likes that mildly bewildered look.

“So tell me about the Cody thing,” Austin says, leaning in to lick up Hangman’s cock.

Hangman exhales shakily. “I – he – okay, when he came to Ring of Honor, we – Jesus, you do look pretty like that.”

Austin grins and he pulls the head of Adam’s cock into his mouth. He pulls off for a second, using his hand instead. “I have great references. Other than Caster, but that’s his fault.”

“Not surprising,” Hangman chuckles. “Well, Matt and Cody started with – with a weird – fucking hell, man.”

Austin winks. He’s a blow job expert – practiced when he was bored on bananas as a high schooler and got better at it than he had any right to – and is ever the performer about everything he does. Even still, the praise gets him every time.

“Matt and Cody started this thing when they were fighting with Kenny, then me and Matt when we came to AEW…” he trails off. “Can I, like –” He tilts his hips. “You can say no.”

“Yes,” Austin says, pulling off for a second. “Yes, do it.”

“Cool,” Hangman says. His thrusts are shallow, gentle, almost gentlemanly, if Austin had to think of it that way. “Anyway, Cody and I thought it was real funny that Matt got with both of us. He has a thing for blonds.” He laughs to himself and Austin looks up to see a different kind of smile. “Guess I got a thing for hot tag team guys.”

Hangman goes quiet as he drops his head against the back of the couch, hands gripping the couch cushions. Austin kind of wishes he had hair, but he’ll save that thought for later. He picks up the pace, determined to make it good, and Hangman groans.

“Fuck, baby,” he mumbles. “Haven’t gotten head this good in years.”

Austin puts that in his back pocket and picks up the pace, his hand and mouth working in ways that have the most filthy, wet sounds coming from him. It’s hot as hell. He has to do this again, doesn’t care what it takes. A mental image of doing this if Hangman wins the belt, with the belt gleaming down at him, is almost too much to take.

“About to,” Hangman pants. “I mean, if – if you don’t want.”

Austin thinks I definitely want and keeps it up. Hangman swears a blue streak as he comes down Austin’s throat and Austin pulls off only when he’s sure Hangman is finished.

“God damn,” Hangman says, and it sounds like a prayer like that.

Austin hops up on the couch next to him. “So. Haven’t had head that good in years?”

“Don’t you fucking tell Matt Jackson that,” Hangman says, and Austin can see the teacher come out in the glare.

“Something, something, head and a cowboy hat,” Austin sighs. He smiles. “There’s a joke there somewhere. I can’t think of one.”

“Neither can I, but that’s because my brain ain’t working anymore.” Hangman puts his jeans and belt back on and Austin gets dressed with a fizzy sort of feeling in his head.

“Now,” Hangman says. He turns and pulls Austin in by the waist, running a thumb along Austin’s bottom lip. “You gotta go back out there and get ready for your match. But I was hoping I could get another kiss before you leave.”

Austin nods, and it’s weird that a line like that gets his heart going almost as much as the blow job did. “Okay.”

Hangman’s kiss is gentle and sweet, and Austin thinks he tastes promise there. “Check in with me before you go back to the hotel, okay?” he murmurs. “You don’t got your phone, but I wanna get your number.”

“Yeah,” Austin says. He presses one more kiss to Hangman’s lips and reaches back for the door. “Later, Cowboy.”

“Same to you, Hollywood Cowboy.”

Austin pauses. “Hollywood Cowboy,” he repeats. “I like that. I might have to steal that.”

Twenty minutes later, when he proposes it to his dad, Billy rolls his eyes.

“Jesus Christ, Austin.” He shakes his head. “Hangman’ll kill you if we try to get in on his cowboy gimmick.”

“Somehow,” Austin says, “I don’t think he will.”

“No,” Billy say firmly.

“Dad!”

“No.”

~

Mini Playlist: Wet Dream - Snow Wife