#brydanny

"Danny."

Danny freezes in front of the exit to the venue and clutches the strap of his bag like it's the only thing holding him together. Hasn't Bryan humiliated him enough tonight? Still, he doesn't start walking again like he's willing himself to. Which means Bryan gets the chance to be in his space again. His gaze always feels like flaming electricity to him, makes him feel like a tree struck by lightning. It's strong enough to shake something inside of him, even when he isn't looking into his eyes. And maybe Danny's romanticizing it, dramatizing it, but that's always how Bryan's felt to him.

And now, Danny burns.

"What do you want, Bryan?" he asks, suddenly feeling more tired than he did after their match and his promo. He's not sure if it's the numbness from it all wearing off or Bryan's presence alone that causes the exhaustion, but either way he's ready to go.

"I want you to look at me."

"And I want you to go away," Danny snaps back, refusing to turn around. He's tired of Bryan playing games with him, and he starts walking again.

"You don't mean that. Not anymore." That makes him turn on his heel, something like anger trying to come out at the smug asshole's tone, but it feels...wrong. But he doesn't have the energy to parse it, not right now. He nearly slams into Bryan, not having realized just how close they really are despite listening to him talk. They stare at each other, and it burns.

"Look, I don't know what the hell your problem is, but you don't know shit."

Bryan chuckles.

"You keep telling yourself that, Danny." His eyes crease in the corners as he smiles, like he's amused by him. It makes the facsimile anger bubble up again. "But we both know that isn't true. And that I know more than you'd ever want to admit." He grips Danny's chin, tilting his face slightly like he's looking for something.

His touch feels like flames licking at his skin.

He shoves Bryan's hand away.

"You don't get to touch me like that anymore," Danny sneers, forcing it out despite a little part of him begging the words to come back the moment they leave his lips.

Bryan laughs this time, and he wishes he could be in on the joke. Maybe everything would hurt less if he was.

"And whose fault is that?"

Nevermind. Danny might punch him instead.

Bryan pats his arm. "I wanted to tell you it was a good match," he says, smile still on his face but almost indulgent now. Like he's saying it to make Danny feel better. It makes his stomach twist. "You're a helluva wrestler Danny. Remember that, and maybe you'll win next time."

And he just...walks away, like he isn't leaving Danny with a war in his chest and static for thoughts. The door closes behind him, and he's left alone again.