Adam jumps, fighting the urge to cover himself up with a towel. There’s a whole door and a curtain in between him and the person outside of this place, though they were a whole lot closer a few minutes ago. “The fuck are you doing, sneaking up on a guy in the damn showers?”

“Medical already cleared me, so I figured I’d wash the blood off.” Yuta sounds more tired than Adam’s used to. Or maybe less annoying. It’s hard to tell. “But you’re in here and you were doing a fucking bit about me, so that might be worse than the bleeding.”

“It’s a meme,” Adam explains. “And you have to admit, it is weird it’s happened twice.”

“Sorry, are you millennial-splaining a meme to me?” Yuta snorts. “Dork.”

“Are you calling me a dork when you just got your ass beat on public television?”

There’s silence on the other side of the shower stall, and it’s heavy enough that Adam throws the towel around his waist and pokes his head out.

“You’re – okay then.” Yuta’s head snaps down, then to Adam’s face, then to his chest, then back up. He turns red under the layer of blood. Adam briefly wonders if that’ll be enough to open that cut back up. Yuta looks at Adam, making eye contact that feels a little intense. “You don’t have to remind me you beat me. This,” he gestures down to a chest covered in blood, “is reminder enough.”

Adam sighs. He almost puts his hands on his hips, but then remembers that one time Kenny told him that was going into “teacher mode”. Instead, he let his hands fall to his sides. “Do you need help with that?”

Yuta tilts his head to the side. He looks like a confused puppy with that expression. Then again, lost puppy has been his thing for a while now. “Are – what?”

Adam steps slightly to the side, unsure of why he’s doing this but powerless to stop. “Up to you, Yuta.” Adam watches him carefully. He has a feeling Yuta has been told what to do, how to do it, and how to feel about it for a long, long time. He wants to give Yuta a chance to decide on something outside of the Death Riders.

“Are you gonna kill me in here?” Yuta asks. He follows it up with a forced little chuckle, shakes his hair out of his eyes, rubs at some of the blood on his chest.

“If I wanted you dead, I would have thrown you over those ropes.”

His eyes burn into Yuta’s. And Yuta doesn’t look away.

“They’ll come for you,” Yuta says, stepping in. “They’ll come for both of us.” His gaze drops. “They don’t take well to traitors.”

“I ain’t never been a traitor, and, if you’re gonna make the call to get out, I’d call that a survivor.”

He doesn’t know how it happens, but he helps Yuta in the shower, helps him wash his hair. Yuta flinches at first at every touch, all but jumps when Adam drops the shampoo bottle.

“Not sure what you think I’m gonna do to you,” Adam murmurs, careful as he washes not to brush the stitches. “There’s a lot more interesting things we can do in a shower than hurt you.”

Yuta goes quiet.

“You haven’t been touched kindly in a while, have you?”

Still silence.

Adam gently eases Yuta into the flow of the water, shushing him as he hisses from the sting on his cut. He turns Yuta around so he can rinse out all of the soap. The water stains pink until it doesn’t, and the water is soapy until it isn’t. Yuta still hasn’t spoken, hasn’t lifted his gaze.

“Hey,” Adam says gently. He lifts Yuta’s chin and pushes his hair out of his eyes. “You don’t have to hide anymore. As long as you’re not here to fuck me over, I think we’ll be able to keep you nice and safe.”

“Why would you trust me?” Yuta asks. There’s a mask of defiance in his eyes. Adam wishes he didn’t recognize it. “I’ve tried to kill you a dozen times in the last year.”

“And I burned down a man’s house in vengeance,” Adam says. “This job gives us the opportunity to do terrible things. It’s our responsibility to undo what we can, and atone for what we can’t.”

Yuta is quiet again. Adam’s not sure why this means so much to him, why getting Yuta out matters. But it does. Adam’s kicked Yuta’s ass about a dozen times at this point, three times in a singles match, and each time Adam cared. He cared that the Yuta made it out okay.

“You get a suite with them?” he asks, checking the rest of Yuta’s body for stubborn blood or cuts that need to be cleaned.

Yuta nods slowly. “I – I did. I –”

“Don’t you say you’ve got nowhere to go,” Adam says. He doesn’t want to sound too firm, too aggressive. He doesn’t want Yuta to be reminded of Mox and them. “You can come with me. I got something better. My own Airbnb place. Champ privileges.”

“I can’t,” Yuta chokes out. “I – I can’t until the match is over. I can’t until Claudio is done.”

Adam nods. After all this, he still won’t leave.

“Then after,” Adam says, as sternly as he can. “After, you find me.”

Yuta nods. Adam can barely hear him say, “Okay.”

Claudio is in the main event, which means Adam has to get his ass involved. He does his best not to give hints to the conversations he’d had with Yuta. At this point, even when he sees Mox feign affection through touch, it’s all he can do not to rip Yuta out of there. But, after one last look over his shoulder, Yuta locks eyes with him. It’s the briefest of seconds. But Adam hopes it’s enough.

~

Adam’s half hidden as he waits for Yuta by the back door. He’s not convinced Yuta will be here; doubt is a powerful thing. There’s no reason Yuta will trust Adam over the Death Riders, let alone Mox.

But, after what feels like endless waiting, there he is. Yuta is skittish, looking over his shoulder every other moment. But he’s here.

Adam is able to all but smuggle Yuta out of the venue. He’s heavy as Adam guides him out, the weight of exhaustion barely transferring to Adam.

“You’re gonna have to get yourself in my rental or somebody’s gonna think I’m kidnapping you,” Adam says as he half drags Yuta through the parking lot.

Yuta’s head snaps up. “Are they here?”

“You’re like a spooked horse,” Adam mutters. “No, nobody’s here. Just get in the car, okay?”

Yuta slides into the car, and they drive in complete silence to the little house Adam is renting for the month. It’s a bit out of the way, down a long, winding, dark road, but Adam feels at home there. When he opens the door for Yuta, he can tell Yuta isn’t quite feeling the same way.

“You good, man?” He waits a second for a response. He doesn’t want to push it. Yuta’s like a kicked puppy in his best moments, but right now it’s a little beyond that.

“This isn’t a setup, is it?” Yuta asks. There’s no tone in his voice beyond resigned indifference.

“Sure,” Adam says, “I have allowed Jon Moxley, a man who has tried to kill in the past and who literally gave me a concussion, to come into my home when I’m not there just to get one over on you.” Adam flicks on a light so Yuta can see his face. “You hear how that sounds?”

Yuta shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the worst thing he did.”

Adam stares it him for one beat. Two. Three. “Mox has really lost his god damned mind, hasn’t he?”

Yuta shrugs again, but he steps inside anyway. He looks ridiculous with the bandage around his head. If he knows the Death Riders, they probably made him redo what medical did. There have been rumors of Mox not trusting medical lately.

“Is that bulky?” Adam asks.

“Hmm?” Yuta looks up for a brief moment as he toes off his sneakers.

Adam nods to the bandage. “The, uh, shoddy bandage job?”

“Oh,” Yuta says, touching his fingertips to the gauze like he’d forgotten it was there. “Yeah, Mox doesn’t like the antibiotic medical started using, so instead he cleans it and dresses it with his own stuff.”

“That is fucking unhinged,” Adam says. “Like, clinically, medically unwell. Has anyone tried anything with him?”

“Not really.” Yuta shrugs. “Can I, um. Can I sit down?”

“Yeah, you’re good. You’re not bleeding anymore or anything.”

Yuta frowns at him, then sits. Adam sits next to him as gently as he can. “Yuta,” he says quietly, “do you have to, like, ask to sit down?”

“Nah,” Yuta says, and Adam is relieved, even though this feels like this is a little bit of an out of body experience. “Just – wanted to make sure it’s okay is all.”

“You take care of yourself,” Adam says. “There’s a second bedroom in here. Comfy bed, good pillows.”

“Okay,” Yuta says. Adam wishes he could get more out of this guy. Something, anything, that indicates Yuta is a person under the shell of anxiety he’s sensing.

“Get some rest, Wheeler,” Adam says carefully.

Yuta’s head snaps up. “What?”

“I – if you don’t go by that name anymore, I won’t call you by it.” Adam has his hands up in front of him. He’s fought with Yuta enough tonight. He doesn’t find it reasonable to make it worse.

“No, it’s just – I haven’t really – people usually just call me Yuta and I guess…” He trails off. “Kind of forgot about people just calling me Wheeler without the Yuta at the end.” He throws what could be a smile if Adam could see him underneath all that hair, and walks into the guest room.

So Adam goes to bed. And hopes he made the right decision.

~

He wakes up to screaming.

He throws the blankets off of himself and sprints to the door, yanking it open hard enough that it slams against the wall. The world of possibilities goes through his head – Swerve is here, and it’s all been a ruse. Mox found them. Someone is robbing them.

Instead, he sees stillness in the living room, and hears the fear coming from the guest room. He slams the door open and –

Yuta is in the bed, the screams turned to aching sobs, his hands wrapped in the sheets. He’s pulling at them, ripping them off and away. Some of them are around his face. It looks like he can’t get the blankets off.

“Wheeler,” Adam says, as firm as he can with still the hint of gentleness. “Wheeler.” He grabs Yuta’s wrists. Wheeler’s wrists. “I’m here. Wake up.”

With a choking gasp, Wheeler’s eyes open, and Adam sees the fear. He holds Wheeler a little less tightly. “You’re okay,” Adam whispers. “I’m here.”

Without thinking, Adam releases Wheeler’s wrists and pull him in. For a split second, he can feel Wheeler’s body prepared to fight him. And then all that fight disappears. Wheeler collapses in Adam’s arms.

Adam doesn’t say anything, just holds onto him. He can’t tell if it’s rage or tears coming out of Wheeler, but he figures it doesn’t matter in the long run. Wheeler’s hands half claw at his back. Adam hadn’t even realized he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and he hopes there aren’t nail marks all over him after this. That might be hard to explain.

Wheeler eventually calms, relaxing heavily against Adam even more, and Adam stays silent. He’s not sure words are his way to work right now.

“I’m sorry,” Wheeler whispers. “You don’t need to deal with this.” He still hasn’t let go of Adam, though.

“I chose this,” Adam says, and it comes out differently than he meant. Oh well. “You’re safe here. I’ll make sure of it.”

He stays there for god knows how long, until Wheeler’s breathing settles and he starts to slip. Adam lets him down. He can rest.

~

He wakes up in the morning with a start. “What the fuck are you doing?” He should be more freaked out by the look of Wheeler Yuta looming over him.

“Can you cut my hair for me?”

Adam blinks. “Dude, I just woke up.”

“Then after coffee,” Wheeler says. He holds up a tray. “I didn’t know what you’d like so I sort of just got three things.”

Adam blinks. “Did – did you take my rental?”

Wheeler shrugs. “You were still asleep.”

He checks his watch. “It’s six thirty in the morning.”

“I usually wake up at four.”

Adam shudders. He hasn’t had to do that shit since he was a kid on the farm. “Gross.”

He slowly wakes up, though, and Wheeler follows him around a bit like a lost puppy. Eventually, he sits down on one of the bar seats in front of Adam and holds out the scissors again. “You done with your coffee?”

Adam sighs, because apparently there isn’t anything to do with this guy, and decides to chug the last half of what’s in the cup. At least it’s an iced latte. Wheeler did good on that end. “I’ve never cut hair before, dude.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Wheeler says. “I just want it off.”

“Alright. I can’t promise it’ll be good.”

“It doesn’t have to be good,” Wheeler insists. Adam takes the scissors. “It just has to be gone.”

~

Without clippers and even further lacking skill, Adam’s pretty happy with the end result, all things considered.

“What do you think?”

Wheeler reaches up, touching the now shorter hair. It’s not all gone – Adam didn’t trust himself enough to give a buzz cut with a razor a try – but it’s out of his eyes and he looks lighter. “It’s better,” Wheeler says, playing with his hair. He reaches his hand through it, catching on nothing at the ends. Adam remembers doing something a little like that, a while back. “It’s way better.” He looks up at Adam with a tentative smile. “Thank you.”

“Any time, man.” And Adam means it.

~

I tried to make them bang but neither of them were in the mood for it. They decided instead to have ~feelings. This also got wicked joss'ed because I took to long to write it WHOOPS. Anyway I hope you enjoyed it!

Yuta groans and leans back onto the concrete at the side of the pool. “Fucking fine!” he groans. He picks up the phone from where it’s on top of his towel. “Hi, Tony.”

Adam does fall off the side of the pool this time. Yuta waves at him to shut up, but Adam pulls up to the edge of the pool where Yuta’s legs dangle anyway. “You’ve been ignoring Tony?” Adam whispers. Yuta waves him away again, but Adam climbs up between Yuta’s legs anyway. He yanks Yuta to the edge of the pool and leans in, close enough that he can lick at the head of Yuta’s cock.

“I – oh!”

Adam can’t hear what Tony says, but Yuta’s now trying to stay very calm as Adam has his fun. He grins around Yuta’s cock.

“Y-yeah, I know. The plan is the end of – oh, um, of the month.”

Adam glances up and sees Yuta with his eyes screwed shut. He gets his pace up, bracing himself on the pool’s edge, and Yuta’s heels dig into his back.

“Yeah, I can,” Yuta says. “I – I just – I’ll scan it when I can.” The hand not holding the phone grips Adam in the shoulder, nails biting, and Adam thinks this might be heaven. “Bye, have a good day.” Yuta must hang up, because he goes, “Christ, Adam!”

Adam chuckles as he pulls back, grinning up at Yuta. “Yeah?” He dives back down onto Yuta’s cock.

“I thought – fucking hell – I thought the phone was a distraction to you doing this,” Yuta whimpers, hips rolling as Adam bobs his head and licks at him. “You didn’t seem distracted at all.”

Adam knows Yuta’s close, so he focuses his actions a little more until Yuta’s moaning and coming down Adam’s throat. Adam pushes himself off the pool wall and into the water. He comes out of the water to see Yuta, eyes half lidded, staring at him.

“Wasn’t distracted,” Adam says. He swims back over and pulls himself up the wall to sit next to Yuta. “Now that I knew it was Tony, it was fun to mess with you.”

“You fucking suck,” Yuta says. He leans in and kisses Adam, quickly.

“What was Tony calling about?”

Yuta shrugs. “Asking about my recovery timeline. Plans for my return.” He raises an eyebrow. “What, are you thinking I’ll tell on you to him?”

“No,” Adam scoffs, “because that would be telling on me, too. If I told him you were in a hotel in Florida doing nothing for weeks, that would get me in just as much trouble.”

“We’re healing,” Yuta corrects. He pokes Adam’s knee. “That’s not nothing, dumbass.”

“Who’re you calling dumbass, dumbass?” Adam shoves at Yuta’s shoulder.

Yuta’s grin goes all predator, that BCC look just good enough to be distracting. Yuta pushes Adam into the pool, and Adam’s too zoned out to catch himself. When he pokes his head out of the water, Yuta’s pointing and laughing.

“That’s a little much,” Adam grumbles. The only solace is that the pool is private, that no one but Yuta saw that.

“How about you get your ass in the shower and I can make it up to you?” His eyes go dark and interested as he hops to his feet.

“You have your pants,” Jamie says.

“He sure as shit doesn’t,” Adam says, glancing over to the pile of his jeans and Yuta’s in the corner.

“Americans,” Jamie says. “What do you call them? Panties?”

“They are boxers!” Yuta says, scrambling right side up. The action sends him flopping halfway into Adam’s lap. He clears his throat and sits up.

Jamie shrugs. “Either way, you’re essentially naked. Off they go. Come now.”

Yuta’s eyes, inexplicably, flicker to Adam’s. “Uh.”

“Yes, him too, of course,” Jamie says, waving Yuta off. “But you first.”

“Why me?”

“Because you were the fool with a decent hand that folded from just a pretty face.”

Yuta rolls his eyes. “He’s not that pretty.”

Adam stares as Jamie cackles. “I was talking about myself, but Hangman here seems offended.”

“Not offended,” Adam says, and he has to clear his throat for some reason. “Just, uh.” He pauses, unsure of what word comes next.

“You’re not pretty,” Jamie says, and Adam’s about to be really insulted before she says, “you’re handsome. Dashing. The kind of man Yuta wants to sweep of his feet, no?”

“What?” Yuta asks. “No. What? Shut up.”

“Methinks the man doth protest too much,” Jamie singsongs. “Actually, you two can keep your panties – boxers, fine, don’t get them in a wad – for a price.”

“The fuck kind of diabolical idea you got, Hayter?” Adam asks. He’s wary of those eyes, that smile. And other things. But mostly wary.

“Kiss,” she says simply. “Yuta, get in the Cowboy’s lap and kiss him.”

Yuta shrugs. “Okay.” He’s got his legs draped across Adam’s before Adam can even move.

“Whoa!” Adam says. “What?”

“No?” Jamie asks, and that false innocence is incredibly appealing.

“Not no,” Adam says. “I mean. Yes! No – fuckin’ hell, Jamie, you got me all fucked up.”

“Are you sure that isn’t the very eager, very handsome man in your lap?”

Adam swallows and looks up. Yuta is handsome. He’s very handsome. He’s handsome and warm and slightly pressing down into Adam’s lap. “Uh.”

“Eloquent,” she says. Adam looks over Yuta’s shoulder to see her stretched out, head propped up as she watches them. “Go on. Kiss him.”

Adam not only wants to kiss Yuta, he wants to kiss Yuta for Jamie. “Alright then,” Adam says. He balances back on one hand and reaches up to pull Yuta down enough to kiss him with the other. Yuta feels a little hesitant against his lips. At first. After a few seconds, he’s kissing back, pressing forward, open mouth against Adam’s. He bites a little. Adam should have expected that of Mox’s protégé.

Jamie chuckles in the background.

“I’m not –”

“It’s okay,” and the way Yuta speaks to him, like he’s the veteran here, “Mox has that effect on everyone. But, uh,” he chuckles, dipping his head. He’s got a pretty smile. Adam’s never noticed that smile before. “I think you’re barking up the wrong tree, there.”

Adam blinks. “I’m what?”

Wheeler’s eyes dart downward, to a place that could be Adam’s lips if he lets his mind hope, and back up to his eyes. “You want somebody to challenge you, maybe get thrown around a little.” His smile is almost so knowing it’s condescending. “But Mox isn’t the one to go to for that.”

Adam opens his mouth, closes it, and frowns. He hasn’t talked to anybody about – that aspect of it. He closes his eyes, letting the moments of Mox throwing him around the ring, smacking him into oblivion, play across his vision. But also, the idea of letting someone else be in control of his body, the idea that someone else will be in charge and he can just be along for the ride. He opens his eyes. Wheeler’s still got that smirk. “He’s not?”

Wheeler shakes his head, and, finally, that smile changes. Something devious, a little dark, on those lips. “Nah. Why do you think they brought me and Claudio in to the BCC?” He leans forward a little, arms braced on his legs. It’s captivating, this confidence. “That group of temperamental brats were desperate to find somebody to get them under control. That’s where we came in.” He licks his lips, and Adam is painfully aware that Wheeler knows he’s watching. “What about you, Hangman?”

Adam swallows. “What about me?”

Wheeler’s gaze gets even more knowing, more penetrating. Adam forces himself not to shiver. “You’re desperate for Mox’s attention, but I think you need mine.”

Adam realizes a second too late that he’s biting his lip, and stops as quickly as he can. It fails, though. Wheeler definitely saw it.

“Good,” Wheeler says. “I’m busy this week, but next week? I’ll take care of you then.” He winks as he stands, and Adam feels itchy.

~

Adam had all but forgotten about the conversation with Yuta until he watches him walk up to the ring with Mox and Claudio after he flattened Kip. His words echo in Adam’s mind as he watches Wheeler walk up, trying to decode the way the three of them make their way to the ring. If it’s really that clear, if there’s that much behind it.

The curiosity disappears quickly, though, as Mox threatens the people Adam’s tried his damnedest to protect and Wheeler and Claudio just…stand there.

“Texas Death,” Mox says.

Wheeler, in the hustle of leaving the ring, sends Adam the quickest wink, makes his way backstage.

It’s all Adam can do not to tear something apart. He spends the rest of the night feeling something crawl under his skin, a kind of desperate ache lingering in a way that he can’t shake, anxiety curling around in his head until he feels like it’s strangling him.

Until, that is, he gets a text from an unknown number. Still up for my proposal?

Adam frowns, trying to place the context. Sorry – who is this and how did you get my number?

It’s Yuta. You up for it?

Adam stares at the screen. Yuta didn’t answer how he has Adam’s number. And he seems serious.

And Adam really, really would like to not be in charge of his own brain for a few hours.

At the Marriot. Room 822.

And he hits send.

He realizes now that the anxiety has been building in the back of his skull the past few weeks desperate to crawl out, and he thinks, maybe, Yuta has had his number for a while.

He does a few crunches, nothing too exorbitant, but he wants to get a little anxiety out and put a little bit extra into his muscles. So he wants to look good. So sue him.

The knock comes on his door a minute or two later, and he pulls it open to see Wheeler Yuta standing there with a charming grin on his lips and something a little less kind in his eyes. “Hey,” he says. “Can I come in?” He steps in past Adam without waiting for a response.

Adam nods. He already feels a little off balance, like he’s not in control of whatever happens next. He likes it.

“So,” Yuta says, sitting down in Adam’s hotel chair like he belongs there. He commands the room without a word needed, gestures for Adam to sit on the bed like it’s not Adam’s hotel room in the first place. “What are we working with here? Just need to get out of your head? Need somebody to space you out?” He studies Adam’s face. “Or are you looking for more intense stuff?”

Adam thinks for a minute, really thinks, because it’s feeling a little bigger than he’d expected.

“Breathe,” Yuta says, gentle but authoritative, and it makes Adam feel something closer to calm than he’s felt in a while. “Hey. I can leave if you -”

“No!” Adam says, faster and louder than he means it to. “I mean. Oh, god.” He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.”

He hears rustling, then senses Yuta come closer to him. “Adam,” he says, quietly.

Adam opens his eyes and looks up into warm eyes, a soft smile, but confident. Wheeler is standing over him. “Yeah?”

“You’re wound so tight you’re about to spin out of your own mind.” The tone is as soft and confident as the smile.

“Yeah, no shit,” Adam laughs. “The anxious millennial cowboy thing didn’t come from nowhere.”

Wheeler tilts his head to the side, studying. “So you need a little bit of time where you don’t need to make any decisions.”

Adam shrugs. “And, I mean, an orgasm at the end couldn’t hurt.”

Wheeler looks incredible as he throws his head back and laughs, and it’s only then that Adam realizes he’s been calling him by his first name in his mind. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that for you.” He raises an eyebrow. “Give me a safe word? Just in case?”

“Sunflower,” Adam answers automatically.

Wheeler nods. “I doubt it’ll come up, but mine’s greyscale.”

“Like – like the printer setting?”

“It’s a safe word, not a love song,” Wheeler says. “So. Lay down.” That smile comes back, knowing and in charge. “And let me clear that head of yours.”

Adam lets his eyes close, and leans in to the moment.

Wheeler’s hands are steady and sure as they slide up Adam’s thighs, warm through the denim. “Anything not helping, you tell me,” Wheeler says, voice gentle. “Jesus, I’m used to throwing Mox around. This’ll be a piece of cake.”

Adam laughs. “Yeah, he likes…a lot of blood and biting in the ring. I can only imagine it gets more intense when dicks are involved.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Wheeler mumbles, but his fingers rest at the buckle of Adam’s belt. “All my questions will be super simple – yes or no, minimal work from you, okay?”

“Okay,” Adam says. He already feels better. He already feel the unraveling, like he’s a tangled ball of yarn and Wheeler has painstakingly found both ends to pull apart.

“Pants off?” Wheeler asks.

“Yeah.” Adam lifts his hips as Wheeler pulls his jeans down. “Shirt, too.”

“Okay,” Wheeler says. Adam can hear the smile in his voice. It’s nice. He opens his eyes to see Wheeler’s hands go to the button of his shirt. “Good?”

“Yes,” Adam says. His voice is less stable, less sure, than he’s used to. He shrugs off the shirt, pulls off his undershirt, too, and Wheeler watches, focused. “You too?”

“Oh,” Wheeler says, sounding surprised. “Yeah. Sure.” He pulls his shirt off in one fluid motion, and Adam allows himself to look. Just a little. “Make a guy blush, why don’t you.” Okay. Maybe Adam’s looking more than just a little.

Adam grins, the unraveling making him bold and loose and relaxed. “You look good.”

Wheeler’s smile shifts to sheepish, just for the quickest of moments, and goes back. “Well, BCC doesn’t have us do a thousand crunches a day for nothing.”

And that’s enough reference, even tangentially, to Mox for Adam, so he rests his head back.

He gives a lot of yesses, to Wheeler’s hands, to his mouth, to stretching out on his stomach and letting Wheeler open him up with slow, slick, focused fingers. Wheeler asks him, over and over, checks in, but never asks for more than yes or no. And there’s so many moments of yes.

The yarn unravels in his mind and he’s laid out bare, on his hands and knees and Wheeler slowly pushes into him, stroking his back gently with words that match.

“Doing so good,” Wheeler murmurs, “you feel okay?”

“Yeah,” Adam says, his mind liquid, “better.”

“Better than okay?” Wheeler asks, and Adam can’t do much but nod.

Wheeler’s hand, after another yes from Adam, wraps around Adam where he’s hard and leaking, strokes with the thrusts.

“Are you ready to come?” Wheeler asks.

“Yes,” Adam says, almost pleading. He needs the yarn in his mind coiled back up, turned into something neat and new and perfect. “Yes, please.”

“Hmm,” Wheeler says, picking up his pace, “well, want me to go harder?”

“Yes,” Adam breathes, turning to pinch the skin of his bicep in his teeth.

Wheeler does, and Adam feels the coiling in his spine, now, not in his head, and it crashes into him hard.

Wheeler follows soon after, and Adam only half registers it throughout the haze.

He’s vaguely aware of Wheeler with the washcloth, cleaning him up, but he basks in it, answering yesses and noes when needed.

“How are you doing in there, Adam?” Wheeler asks, resting a hand on his arm. “Unwound a little?”

“Very much so,” Adam says. His smile spreads slowly as he comes back to himself. He turns to Wheeler and kisses him before he realizes he’s doing it. “Oh. Shit. Is that not allowed?”

Wheeler’s laugh is light, fond, cuter than Adam thought was allowed in Blackpool Combat Club. “Nah, kissing is on the table. It’s, uh. It’s kind of my favorite part.” He studies Adam’s face, eyes. “You seem good. You good?”

“Great,” Adam says. He hadn’t realized it was there, but the tension in his shoulders is gone. His mind feels clear, concise. His own. “That was what I needed.”

Wheeler grins. “Good to hear.”

“You, uh,” and a little bit of his inherent awkwardness stepping back in, “you can stay overnight, if you want.”

“Really?” Wheeler asks. “Okay. Yeah. You want to get room service?”

They get fancy Caesar salads and watch Cutthroat Kitchen together, trying to guess which chef will win. They fall asleep next to each other, and Adam discovers that Wheeler is a blanket hog.