#poly!bcc

It's the first warm day since winter began months ago, and Yuta can hear the bugs waking up, chittering in a loud chorus somewhere unseen. Little lightning bugs chase each other in the yard, and Yuta watches from the porch, swinging gently on the hammock.

"I used to catch them when I was a kid," Yuta says, tilting his head up. Mox is pressed against his side, the hammock cupping them together in what Yuta thinks is Mox's preferred state of being - entirely octopused around him, almost painfully close, with shuffling only removing an atom or two of what's left of the space between them. "Did you ever do that? Catch lightning bugs and put them in jars to watch them light up?"

Mox shakes his head and then rubs the scruff of his beard against Yuta's forehead, hot and slightly painful.

"Nah, we didn't have lightning bugs really. If I was out at night, I was up to no good. Nothin' innocent like catchin' lightning bugs, at least," Mox says, adjusting his arm around Yuta's waist. He tucks his hand up under Yuta's shirt, and Yuta feels the cool breeze on his skin. It feels incredible, breathing in warm after his lungs had fed off nothing but acrid, stale cold and the smell of the snow rotting in the streets.

"...Wanna catch lightning bugs?" Yuta asks, resting his head back against the netting. "I can get one of Bryan's mason jars. We just can't tell him, though - he'll yell at us about 'animal imprisonment' or something."

That gets Mox chuckling, curling over so that he's now almost fully on top of Yuta, pressing his face into his chest. Mox makes himself small, almost, legs curled and tangled, head on Yuta's chest, Yuta now the one with his arms around him.

"Kinda just wanna lay here," Mox mutters. "Just a little longer, then you can show me what's so good about trappin' little guys."

"You'd know a lot about trapping little guys," Yuta says, and he thinks that Mox must hear his heart under his ear, full to bursting.

----------

It's early - too early to be awake, and yet.

"Yuta, it's time to wake up," Claudio whispers, not for the first time that morning. Yuta, feeling like a child being stirred for school after too much sleep, or too little, makes a disgruntled noise and turns into Claudio's bare chest. He nuzzles his face against dark chest hair, feeling the scrape and crunch of it - slightly waking him up, but also mostly burrowing into him.

He hears Claudio chuckle and, despite himself, wrap an arm around Yuta to cup the back of his head, supporting it. Skin-to-skin, Yuta starts seeping up some of Claudio's warmth, given that Claudio had chilled him by throwing the covers off the hotel bed. Another (failed) attempt to rouse Yuta.

Long fingers gently scratch at the back of Yuta's head, and he hears the faint noises of Mox brushing his teeth, Bryan in the shower after a morning jog. Regal might also be in the room, and- yes, there he is, the gentle sound of him tapping away on his keyboard, sending a last-minute email.

"If you get up, I will help you in the shower. We can get coffee from that little shop you liked yesterday," Claudio says. That does make him lift his head, Yuta humming, not yet verbal this early in the morning. He doesn't even fully lift his head off Claudio's chest, just moves up towards his shoulder and asks, in a quiet and unused voice,

"Even though y'think it's burnt?"

Big arms press Yuta in against a warm, soft body, and an arm snaked under his waist. He's forcefully sat up, and Yuta groans.

"Yes, even though it is burnt and you drink coffee that's too sweet. But only if you get up. We've been so lazy, and we have a flight in three hours," Claudio scolds Yuta gently. It's plenty of time for them to get ready and to the airport, but Regal likes getting them there early so that he can do a headcount and ensure that everyone is where they need to be.

As if Yuta would ever be anywhere that these guys weren't. As if one day, they would ever be apart. They tease him endlessly for it.

"Okay," Yuta says, pressing a tired, stale-lipped kiss to Claudio's neck. "...Love you."

Claudio sighs, body relaxing against Yuta's, and he squeezes him gently, one hand sliding down his spine.

"I love you," Claudio whispers against his hair. Yuta hears the shower shut off at the same time that Mox's uneven footsteps enter the room, along with his morning grunts as he clears his throat.

"You're spoilin' puppy," Mox teases, but Claudio has gotten Yuta to sit back, has his hands cupping his face, and is looking at Yuta like he's every star in the sky all bundled up into one tiny little thing.

But that isn't it. Somehow, Yuta knows that isn't it. They talk happily about Bryan's retirement, smiling and laughing about Bryan getting fat and happy. Mox hasn't changed at all, nor has his adoration for Claudio, or the way Claudio roughhouses with him and shines his title for him. Nothing in the group has changed. Nothing between the men has changed at all.

In fact, Yuta thinks, him coming back to the ring has just made them happier. They're a team again, a family.

So he doesn't understand why Claudio is so. Mad. Random bursts of rage that seclude him in the locker room, has him accusing Bryan of looking at him a certain way, only to come back out a few hours, sometimes a night, later and acting calmer, smoother, softer.

He doesn't want to end up here for answers, but he's run out of options.

"Claudio," Regal says softly, sitting at the table that used to be theirs, drinking out of a teacup Yuta had hand-washed dozens of times before, "has...temper tantrums. Surely you've noticed it before now? He had them before, when you were there."

Yuta cannot find himself a comfortable position. The house around him is full of happy ghosts and he is the haunting living, wanting to throw around objects and slam doors. Half his mind is focused on not looking at the couch where they all used to curl up and watch tapes, or over at the kitchen where Regal used to ruffle Yuta's hair in the morning and quietly kiss his temple.

"Not like this," Yuta says, staring at his cold cup of tea. "...He won't let us talk to him. He'll close himself off for hours, sometimes overnight. He's...being disrespectful in the ring."

"Ah."

"He's yelling at Bryan."

Regal looks unperturbed. Instead, he smiles, chuckles, and sets down his teacup. The sound of it echoes in the house. Had it always been this quiet? No, Yuta knows it hasn't been - their new house, the once closer to the ocean, to the mountains Bryan likes to hike, it's always full of noise. Mox working out or running around, Bryan playing music, Claudio slamming weights or playing video games.

How does Regal live in a place like this?

How can he live in this abominable silence after he had them?

Yuta shakes his head. That's not why he showed up here.

"He's never been like this. At least...Claudio hasn't," Yuta says, and Regal nods, sitting back in the chair. Looking at him hurts, like a tight hand around his heart. He remembers too much.

"You want to know about Cesaro, then? Well, darling, I'm afraid the two aren't wholly different. Cesaro was angrier, of course, and less confident in himself, and always anxious to prove himself so that he didn't fade away into obscurity," Regal says. "Not unlike Claudio."

"Claudio isn't like that!"

"Isn't he? Everything you just described to me sounds like my Cesaro peeking back through Claudio. But what could have caused that, I wonder?" Regal asks, and Yuta hates him. Yuta hates him so, so much, and he can't breathe with the anger that flows through him. He grips the chair that he'd helped Mox repair after it had broken one afternoon during dinner. They'd all laughed so hard then.

The house is silent now, and Regal is silent, and he left them so long ago. Over a year ago. Claudio had seemed okay back then....

"You're here because you want to fix him. Put him back the way he was," Regal says. "But there is nothing wrong with him. You have not known Claudio a fraction of the time I have known him. You think you know him because you love him, because two years is forever for a young man like you, but it isn't any time at all.

"Sometimes Cesaro comes back. Of course you wouldn't know that. You've only known him a few years."

Yuta stands so suddenly that the chair tips over and crashes onto the floor. He hears the glued-on leg splinter and crack off again, as if Yuta and Mox had never touched it and held it in place while the glue dried.

Regal is unphased as he looks at Yuta, a brow raised. His hair is nearly all white now, no longer full of sugar whisps. But his face looks younger somehow, his eyes brighter. He looks so much happier now.

"Don't be mad now. You came to me because you knew you didn't know him very long, and I have. You have no clue who Claudio is, do you?"

"Fuck. You." Yuta's breathing is harsh and his heart is pounding in his throat. Somewhere deep inside, something is cracking.

"You thought you knew all of us so well, sunshine. Perhaps, if you weren't such a naive young man, you would still be at your new home and actually taking the time to know Claudio instead of trying to cheat your way through a long relationship," Regal says, and his voice is soft and even as it has always been.

Yuta opens his mouth to speak, but words get caught in his throat. It closes, as if stopping him from talking, as if keeping him silent so that he doesn't say anything that this man can use against him. Regal watches him, and there is no remorse in his eyes. And there is no anger and there is no longing. He does not miss him. He does not miss them.

God, Yuta misses him. God, Yuta still loves him. He wishes he knew better.

"Go home, Master Wheeler. Get some time under your belt with the men who love you and then, perhaps, you won't have to come crawling to me whenever one of them does something out of character."

Yuta is stalking down the hallway as Regal is finishing speaking, and he slams the door to end the older man's sentence. He does as he's told, going home. Behind him, he leaves Regal, who stays sitting at that little table with the chair that's broken now, and oh. He won't be able to fix that on his own. His knees and hips hurt so bad now, so it will have to stay there broken.

“Schatz,” Claudio breathes in the second it takes him to dive down and catch his lips in a messy, open-mouthed kiss. He devours Yuta, kissing him so hard his back bends and Claudio’s fingers are digging into his hips, pushing him backwards. Yuta drops his title (it doesn’t hit the floor - he thinks, later, that maybe Bryan caught it and set it on the couch) and he grabs harshly onto Claudio, as if his skin is fabric, trying to dig into his chest.

The two of them kiss like they’re trying to each each other’s lips at first, teeth clacking, Yuta scrambling up Claudio, lifting a leg if just to get closer to him. 

“Spidermonkey,” Mox laughs, pressing up against Yuta’s back. “Claudio’s hogging you.”

“Missed him,” Claudio pants desperately, and then immediately goes back to kissing Yuta like his life depends on it. Yuta’s brows are furrowed with the focus he’s putting into kissing Claudio, a hand coming up to grasp at the back of his neck. Claudio pulls back once to breathe, then moves to kiss and bite at Yuta’s neck, nose pressed to his skin to remember what he smells like after a match, all grit and salt and sweat.

“Missed you so much,” Yuta pants, and his head falls back onto Mox’s shoulder. Mox growls possessively as he threads his fingers through Yuta’s hair and dives down for his own sloppy, smacky kiss. “All of you. Missed wrestling with you so much-”

“We know. We know, but you’re back now,” Bryan assures them, then, “You two are going to eat him up before we get to the hotel.”

“Plannin’ on it,” Mox mutters, just as Claudio pulls his mouth from Yuta and looks down at him like the whole of the world is in Yuta’s brown eyes. Yuta grabs onto Claudio and Mox, pulls them in closer, and pants,

“Hotel, please. Like, now. I’m- I need to get you guys to the hotel.”

Mox smiles, all teeth and wolfish attention, and he grips him tight. Mox sinks his teeth into Yuta’s trap and he yelps softly. Bryan snickers from somewhere, then steps in to press against Yuta’s side, and he’s suffocated by their bodies up against him. They won’t move an inch away, they refuse. Hands grab his skin, kiss him, nip at him, Bryan keeps pulling Yuta over by his chin when Claudio steals him to plant soft, feather-light kisses to his lips.

Finally, Yuta wiggles enough and pulls his head back to demand,

“Hotel, now, or I’m going to fucking die dude.”

“Okay, okay,” Claudio nods, and it’s all they can do to compose themselves enough to grab their bags, tug on zip-ups, and get to the rental car. The hotel is maybe five minutes away by car, but in that time Mox manages to get Yuta vertical in the back seat and is practically humping him through green lights. His breathing is loud and rough, and Yuta’s grunts are deep. Only once does Bryan turn around from the passenger seat and say,

“Hey, hey, be easy with him. Watch his head.”

“Gotta watch for two people’s brains now, hm?” Mox mutters against Yuta’s collarbone. “Gonna make sure no one takes my boys from me again.”

“Shh,” Yuta breathes, resting his hand on the back of Mox’s head. “We’re all here tonight. We’re all here.”

By the time they’re at the hotel, they’re all bursting at the seams, shaking with need. Yuta can feel it in the air, something so, so close to breaking that it hardly lasts long enough for Bryan to unlock their hotel door. They all tumble into the cold hotel room and, finally, Bryan throws the key onto the floor somewhere and grabs Yuta by his waist, lifting him up and throwing him onto the bed. 

Yuta laughs in excitement as Bryan crawls on top of him, and he isn’t the slow, methodical, clinical man he usually is when he has Yuta on his back. Instead, his hands are shaking as he’s pulling down the zipper on Yuta’s jacket, and he’s missing Yuta’s mouth by a country mile with his kisses. He’s undone. His hair is down and he’s panting, and he’s grinding his hips into Yuta like a teenager in the back of a car. 

“Hey,” Yuta mutters, bumping his forehead against Bryan’s. Blue eyes flicker up to him, and Yuta smiles. “Missed you.”

“We live together,” Bryan says, trying to brush it off despite his hands yanking off Yuta’s jacket and throwing it. 

“You missed me,” Yuta whispers, and he wraps his arm around Bryan’s shoulders and flips them over. 

All the men make use of the space in the bed, grasping and writhing and panting until clothes have been thrown all over the floor and someone’s got a bottle of lube that’s draining fast. It’s unsaid, how it’s going to go, not because they all know what they want, but because whatever Yuta does, they relent. They give it to him when Yuta moves between all three to kiss them each, they give it to him when Yuta slicks up his fingers and presses Mox down onto the bed to finger him open, they give it to him when Yuta slicks his cock up and pushes it into Mox with the shaky urgency of someone who hadn’t fucked in years.

Mox lets out the loudest, filthiest moan when Yuta slides into him, eyes rolling into the back of his head. The older man wraps a hairy leg around Yuta’s hips and pulls him deeper faster, not giving Yuta the chance to go slow. It’s intense, all at once, the way Mox pulls Yuta in and his tight muscles squeeze him tighter than Yuta remembers him being.

“See what happens when you tell him he can’t fuck with concussion symptoms?” Bryan asks, and Yuta peers to the side to see Claudio curled up behind Bryan, one hand wrapped around Bryan’s cock and gently stroking it. Bryan’s smiling, one hand laid on the pillows between him and Mox. Mox looks down at it and grabs it, then slaps it unceremoniously onto his tit. “God, you’re romantic,” Bryan sighs, and he squeezes Mox’s pec, thumbing at the nipple.

Yuta drops his head and grabs Mox’s wrists, pinning them up above his head to keep him still while Yuta starts rolling his hips. Fuck, it had been too long - so long, with only his hand or his lover’s hands, mouths, Bryan’s thighs once when Yuta was so sexually frustrated that he nearly cried. It was nothing compared to this - in Mox, tight and hot and wet, his hips snapping against the backs of his fuzzy thighs, watching his fat cock bounce on his belly and smear pre on his bellyhair. 

“Yeah, fuck me good baby. My ass missed you,” Mox croons, stretching out, arching his back so that his ribs jut out under muscle. “Don’t go slow - I know you wanna fuck me like a fuckin’ bunny rabbit. Give in to it, pumpkin. Use me, get off- there we fucking go,” Mox moans as Yuta lets out a strangled moan and starts to snap his hips faster, abs on fire, back aching. It’s so fast,  too fast to last more than thirty seconds.

And he should be embarrassed by how he cums in less than five minutes, hips snapping against Mox so hard that he’s got his lover shoved up against the headboard, his knuckles pressing against the wood as he keeps Mox’s wrists in place. But he isn’t embarrassed - he’s cumming and panting and shaking, and sweat is dropping down onto Mox, soaking into his skin. 

“Fuuck,” Mox moans, eyes rolling back again. “That’s so good, baby. Holy shit. I- holy shit. Gonna get me pregnant fucking me like that.”

How Mox can make Yuta laugh when he’s half-mad with lust is incredible, but he does it. Yuta pulls out of him, then leans down to kiss his forehead.

“Y’okay?” Yuta pants, and Mox nods, reaching his arm up and around Yuta’s neck. Their lips slot together sloppily, spit smearing on Yuta’s nose, Mox’s stubble stabbing at his lips. Yuta sighs into it, feeling Mox stroking himself between them.

“Am now,” he whispers against Yuta’s mouth. “Fuck, I needed you.”

“Right here,” Yuta promises, hearing that hint of rawness in Mox’s voice. He kneels back, hand on Mox’s hip, staring at him. “I’m right here.”

Mox scrunches up his face and rests his head back again, his hand a blur on his cock.

“Fuck, bunny-!”

Yuta strokes Mox’s hips as he cums over his hand, and Mox is so, so beautiful to him. All he’d been allowed for six months was to lay and watch Bryan and Claudio fuck Mox to tears in their bed, and Yuta, if he was lucky, could reach a hand in and stroke Mox to his finish. Now, he gets it all. He gets everything.

He wants more.

He doesn’t know how it happens; in the middle of kissing Mox and being yanked roughly back by Bryan, who presses the two of them together and starts stroking their cocks at the same time, Claudio kissing each of Yuta’s fingers as he writhes on the bed. 

“I love you,” Bryan says, his elbow digging into the pillow above Yuta’s head, his hand pressing their cocks together and stroking them, coaxing Yuta’s back to life. “I love you so much. I need you to know that. I love you,” he insists. Yuta blinks, and Bryan has their chests pressed together, their hearts shaking their ribs together, and there’s red in Bryan’s eyes now. “...I can’t leave you yet.”

“Bry?”

“I don’t want to retire yet,” Bryan says, and it’s so hard to think. “Watching you tonight, being in the ring…I can’t leave you yet.”

“You’re not leaving me,” Yuta tries, but Bryan shakes his head.

“To the ring. I can’t leave you to the ring without me yet. Just…just a few more months. Wembley. I have to,” Bryan insists, and the red in his eyes suddenly makes sense. Yuta’s eyes widen and he wraps his arm around Bryan’s shoulders, and he smashes them together in a tight embrace, even if it makes Bryan’s angle weird as he keeps stroking them, palm over their tips, Yuta already close to cumming again.

But it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.

“Wembley, you promise?” Yuta asks, lips pressed to Bryan’s neck. Bryan nods, rolls his hips so he’s humping into Yuta’s cock, and Yuta makes a quiet, released noise. He doesn’t know how to describe it other than somewhere between a whine and an exhale of relief. “Bryan,” he gasps.

He has a little longer.

They have a little bit longer to make up for the time lost with Yuta on the bench.

By the time Bryan has Yuta cumming, he’s writhing, heels digging into the bed, body fighting against the intense sensation. 

“Fuck, look at him,” someone says, Yuta isn’t sure who, because all sounds are meshing together. All he knows is that Bryan’s kissing his face all over, and then Bryan is rolling off him, and then someone is rubbing a wet cloth across his belly and between his thighs. His chest is heaving as he looks over, and he sees Claudio, or the outline of him in the unlit room. Claudio’s fingers brush gently over Yuta’s chest, and as the bed shifts on the other side, Claudio says,

“Take a rest, Wheeler. We are right here.”

But Yuta hasn’t gotten Claudio yet. He hadn’t gotten to feel his skin, made him cum, gotten to press them together like they might die if they move apart. He frowns and reaches his arm over, but it’s heavy as hell, and his hips don’t want to roll.

“Shh, you’re tired. You came twice,” Claudio laughs. “Just a small break. I will be here when you’re ready.”

“Now,” Yuta grunts, because he’s waited long enough, wasted enough time, and….

And at some point, he must doze into a half-sleep. He’s jerked awake by someone shifting their arm under his head, and he jerks, snorting, looking around. The room is still the room, and it can’t have been too long while he was asleep, because the other side of the bed is still warm despite it being empty. 

He can hear the shower running in the bathroom, but while Mox and Bryan are gone, Claudio is the one trying to scoop Yuta up into his arms. Yuta wiggles, turning into Claudio and pressing his hand into his chest. He shoves gently, muttering,

“No, c’mon. Wanna…wanna have you.”

“Ha, here I thought I’d gotten you asleep,” Claudio snickers. Yuta shakes his head to wake himself up more, and it’s then that he’s able to look up and see Claudio. Brown-eyed, stupidly handsome, Claudio. Yuta wasn’t done, he needed to love all of them, he needed them all to know. He can’t leave a single one out. Not Claudio.

Yuta, not sure if Claudio is going to be down for the idea that had been brewing in Yuta’s head for weeks, imagining the night he came home, is gentle as he presses against Claudio. His lover rolls to his back curiously, just watching Yuta to see what he’s going to do next. Yuta sits himself between Claudio’s thick, muscle-strapped thighs, looking down to see a long, fat cock resting against the v of his abs. His balls are heavy and they make Yuta’s mouth water just looking at them, but when Yuta reaches down, he moves underneath them.

Claudio inhales sharply when Yuta presses his middle finger against a star of muscle, his legs tensing. 

“C?” Yuta asks, watching the surprise cross Claudio’s face. “...Can I?”

For a long time, the two just watch each other, realizing that the energy in the room now is far different than what it was before. Yuta swallows and - bless the refractory period of 27-year-olds - his cock is already half-hard again, just at the thought that Claudio might let Yuta do something that he’d only ever seen Mox and Bryan do. It wasn’t that Claudio had ever denied him, it was just that…well. It had never happened.

“...You will need lube, schlieb,” Claudio mutters, and he smacks around the bed beside him for a moment to find the bottle. Yuta takes that moment to look at this new position - Claudio on his back, his legs around Yuta’s thighs, splayed out prone for him. Claudio, prone, for him. If he could make this last forever….

Claudio is the one who takes Yuta’s hand and spreads the lube on his fingers, massaging it around his pointer, middle, and index fingers.

“What um…what do you like?” Yuta asks softly, taking his fingers back and sliding them down between Claudio’s legs. Claudio manages to squeeze out what’s left of their lube onto Yuta’s cock, and he reaches down to rub it in, making Yuta’s thighs shake.

“I like you, sonnescheine,” Claudio says.

“That’s really sweet and infuriatingly unhelpful,” Yuta says. Claudio laughs, giving the tip of Yuta’s dick a squeeze before taking his hand back and lifting up a leg, wrapping his hand around the back of his knee. And, fuck, god, Claudio is basically presenting to him and Yuta gets so hard so fast that he’s dizzy as he slips the first two fingers into his lover.

Fuck, Yuta thinks, because he’s warm inside. Of course he’s warm, they’re all warm inside, but this is Claudio’s insides and they’re warm and theyre relaxing around his fingers for him. He rocks his fingers gently, curling them in a fluid motion, searching. He watches Claudio’s face as he moves his fingers, and for an infuriating moment he looks completely unaffected, just smiling at him lovingly like some kind of asshole who doesn’t feel Yuta trying to fuck him like a puppet.

And then, once Yuta’s slid a third finger in, and he’s curled his fingers up at a new angle, he finally sees his perfect lover misstep. It’s quick, a kneejerk reaction, as his mouth drops open and he gasps sharply. Claudio’s abs clench as Yuta rolls his fingertips over a soft, rubbery patch inside his lover. 

“Finally,” Yuta mutters, and he leans forward, one hand now pressing back Claudio’s knee for him, the other working in fluid, rocking motions as he coaxes Claudio’s prostate, watching how each pass makes him suck in a breath and his eyes go glazy. He’s seen it on Bryan, on Mox, on himself when they put him in front of a mirror. But he’s never seen it on Claudio, not from this angle. 

“Mph,” he grunts, and Claudio moves his hand from the back of his knee to Yuta’s hair, lacing his fingers in the black locks and trying, failing, to keep his grip soft. “Mich haben,” he huffs with a voice that’s teetering on the edge of falling apart. 

Yuta did that. Yuta made Claudio waver and flex and sweat underneath him, this man who is so much bigger than him, so much stronger, so much older and wiser, and he has him begging. It’s like a shot of adrenaline to his brain, and Yuta’s shaking with need as he pulls his fingers out and immediately lines his cock up with Claudio’s entrance.

“Can I-”

“Fucking- yes verdammt noch mal! Do it or I’m going to put you on your back and ride you. I’ll break your hips, Ich schwöre bei Gott,” Claudio pants, trying to moderate his voice but unable to stabilize the tremor that gets Yuta’s cock the rest of the way hard. 

“Holy shit,” he breathes under his breath, and Yuta looks down to make sure he’s aiming right as he presses into Claudio. His lover’s body gives way to him, opening up, taking him in, and he’s just as tight as Yuta thought he would be. Tight and perfect, and warm. And Yuta’s pushing into him, and it’s Claudio’s body pulling him in, and it’s Claudio’s body wrapping around him, and it’s Claudio’s hands that pull on Yuta’s shoulders until he’s leaning over.

Claudio’s leg slips off his shoulder, but his lover manages to wrap his legs around Yuta’s waist before they fall out of position. Yuta shuffles his knees forward so he can lean one arm over Claudio’s head, his other hand going between them, wrapping around Claudio’s tip. 

“Sshh- Yuta, if you touch me…it will be too soon,” Claudio warns, and fuck if that doesn’t make Yuta’s gut tremble delightfully. It’s like that then, is it? Well, fuck, because Yuta’s right there too, and he isn’t about to slow down when he has this well of sensation that he gets to drown them both in. 

“Me, too,” Yuta pants, and he starts rocking his hips. He moans filthily above Claudio’s face as the slick, tight, hot body massages him, as Claudio looks up at him (and they are the only two with brown eyes, and that feels significant, it feels like it means something when everyone else around Yuta had blue eyes for so long). “I- fuck, Claudio, let me do this again. Please.”

“You aren’t done with this time,” Claudio points out, voice warbling in pleasure and laughter. Yuta smears his palm over Claudio’s tip and starts rutting his hips in long snaps. It makes skin slap loudly between them, his balls slapping Claudio’s ass. 

“Please, god, I’m gonna die if I don’t get to do this again, you feel fucking incredible, I love you- I love you so fucking much,” Yuta spills out, tucking his hand under the back of Claudio’s head. His other hand is stroking Claudio, palm molded around his fat tip as he rolls his body to get as deep a snap into Claudio as he can, feeling warm, feeling soft, feeling everything as he looks into Claudio’s eyes and see him open and vulnerable beneath him. 

He tries to speak again, more nonsense about love and Claudio, but words strangle in Yuta’s mouth as he presses their bodies together as close as he can, him and Claudio finally becoming that one entity that they were always supposed to be, and in desperation he starts to get sloppy with his thrusts, and Claudio’s arms wrap around him suddenly. They are crushed together, finding new space to occupy, and Yuta curls his fingers into the back of Claudio’s head.

A deep rumbling vibrates between them and Yuta hears Claudio make this noise, this beautiful, strangled noise as his body bows forward and his muscles clamp down around Yuta, trying to keep his cock deep inside him. Pulling back feels like Yuta’s cock might get ripped right off with how tight Claudio gets as thick spurts of cum soak over Yuta’s hand and between their bellies. Claudio takes a breath, gasping, and then another deep moan follows as he keeps spending, as Yuta keeps fucking him, smearing the new cum between them until they’re slick and wet and sticky across their torsos.

It’s filthy and it’s perfect.

“Fuck, C- fuck!” Yuta gasps, voice cracking as he drops his head and feels his own orgasm crush over him. It’s so hard for what little his body has left to give, flexing and clenching over and over as a pitiful amount of cum dribbles out of him. His hand, now still between the two of them, twitches and then slips off Claudio’s belly, smearing cum on the sheets as he grabs onto them. An overwhelming emotion washes over Yuta as his body finally stills, his face falling into the side of Claudio’s neck, panting hard, shaking with the effort.

He isn’t aware that he’s shaking until Claudio’s arms tuck underneath Yuta’s so he can rest his hands on his back, pressing firmly into him.

“Lass mich ihn behalten,” Claudio mutters into Yuta’s hair. 

“Hm?” Yuta asks, and even that short sound is shaky. He lifts his head, nose bumping against Claudio’s.

“I love you,” Claudio says, and now his brown eyes are bright and clear, and he’s already recovered. Which, god, he’s right back to being perfectly in control. Yuta opens his mouth to say something, but in the same moment his soft cock slips out and he instead makes this weird, funny noise that has Claudio snickering. “Ah, good, I thought you were going soft on me. Turns out you were just going soft in me.”

Yuta looks at Claudio in abject betrayal, grabbing his jaw and grunting,

“The worst.”

Claudio laughs weakly, the only remaining sign that Yuta had just fucked him good, and it’s all Yuta can do to lean down and kiss the laughter from his lips. They slot together perfectly, just like all of them do. Claudio rests his hands on Yuta’s lower back, pulling him closer despite the cum wet and lewd between their bellies. 

“You were supposed to let him sleep,” Bryan says, and it’s only now that Yuta hears the bathroom fan louder with the door open. There’s a whistle, and the bed dips beside Yuta and Claudio. Yuta pulls back from his lips to see Mox grinning wolfishly down at them.

“He let you fuck him? Are you serious? And you didn’t let us watch?” Mox asks. “Oh come on, I’ve been pushing for this for like- for fucking ever. Give me a play-by-play, how was bunny’s dick?”

“Give us a moment to shower, and I will tell you everything,” Claudio promises, but he’s still looking at Yuta, eyes soft and sweet and sickly in love. Mox places his hand on Yuta’s lower back and rubs it softly up and down, and it isn’t long before Yuta’s stretching out and almost purring with satisfaction. He’s thoroughly fucked, his muscles are exhausted, and he’s sticky in a way that signals a job well done. Plus, Claudio is so firm under him, his hands bracketing Mox’s on his back, and now Bryan’s petting his hair….

“Okay, as sweet as this is, we need to shower. We are an ice-cream sandwich right now. Or…hm, perhaps a quesadilla,” Claudio says.

“That’s fucking foul,” Yuta mutters into his chest. “I can’t believe I’m gonna rim you in the morning.”

“If I make a gross sex joke, do I get to get rimmed?” Mox asks. Yuta lifts his head and sticks his tongue out, only for Mox to swoop down like a bird of prey and plant a loppy, open-mouthed kiss on him. Yuta grunts into it, turns his face, and bites Mox’s cheek. Mox yelps and Bryan tightens his grip in Yuta’s hair, pulling it back, back, back, until Yuta’s forced up onto his knees.

“Oh, gross. Go get in the shower,” Bryan huffs when he sees the mess between the men. Yuta and Claudio finally detangle themselves from the other men but, before they slip off the bed to go shower, Yuta’s grabbed by Bryan again. His lover leans in and kisses his shoulder, hand flat on his back. “Good to have you back, Wheeler.”

"Hush, and observe," he instructs with the same seriousness as he does when they're doing actual tape study. Yuta blinks, hunching up his shoulders to try and push Regal's hand off the back of his head. He's rewarded with a stiff swat, then Regal's hand returns to the teacup in his lap. "This is very serious."

It isn't, actually. But when Yuta glances around, Mox, Bryan, and Claudio are enraptured by the soap opera on the TV, where two characters are talking about some woman named 'Laura.' Yuta isn't entirely sure what happened to her, but it doesn't sound good. Still, it isn't the training he'd been summoned for.

"Sir, you have an unhealthy obsession with this show," Yuta says, sitting back and sliding the pad of paper and pencil over to Mox's lap so he can curl his legs up. Regal chuckles and wraps his arm around Yuta's shoulders, tugging him in while Mox scribbles pictures of penises and all their initials on the paper.

"I said shush," Regal says, and he pinches Yuta's arm, making the youngest of them yelp. He's once again shushed by the rest of the men, and Claudio is bold enough to throw a pillow Yuta's way. The way these old men are obsessed with this show should concern Yuta (or, at least, annoy him), but it's been so long that, at this point, he's used to walking into the living room and seeing them all sitting in a sustained silence.

"Doesn't feel jetlagged," Yuta mutters sleepily against the back of Mox's neck. "Feels warm and awake." Mox chuckles and moves his leg forward so Yuta can rock deeper into him, cock buried in his pussy, one hand cupping his chest.

Bryan sighs and looks to Claudio, but he's no help - he's looking at the two of them with this incredible warmth, his eyes almost glistening. There is such a softness about him, you would think he was watching some gift on nature and not their two lovers fucking like they do every chance they get.

"Mox needs his injection," Bryan reminds the group. "He's been on a plane all day, he needs his injection, and he has an early appointment tomorrow with Doc. This is really not the time."

"It's the time," Mox breathes, nearly a whisper. His eyes are closed and he's got his hand between his legs, gently stroking his t-cock while Yuta's hand fondles and squeezes his chest, hips still rocking in a slow, sleepy rhythm.

It's adorable in a way Bryan won't admit, how Mox got back from Japan, Bryan and Claudio stepped out of the room to get Mox's bags, and here these two already were. They'd left them nuzzling, barely an inch of space to breathe between them, gripping each other like Mox had been gone years and not ten days.

Sighing, Bryan lays down Mox's suitcase and starts fishing around for his kit. By the time he has it and is stood up, Claudio is laying in front of Mox, looking at him fondly as he joins his hand with Mox's between his legs.

"We missed you, prinzli," Claudio whispers, and the way he looks at Mox could make a god jealous of the way their worshippers turn their faces up towards them. Mox, eyes half-lidded in pleasure, lets out a weak whine as Claudio's fingers start to work his t-cock, as Yuta starts to rut his hips into him until there's the sound of slapping skin.

Bryan sets out the kit and moves Mox's leg so he has access to his thigh, and he waits, watching, eyes fixed on where Yuta's cock is plunging into Mox over and over. The stretched entrance is pink and suctioned to Yuta, the most perfect pussy Bryan's ever felt, on the most perfect man he's ever met.

"Go on Yuta, show him you missed him," Bryan says, and Yuta nods, burying his face in the back of Mox's neck, nails digging into his chest. Mox's mouth drops open as Yuta speeds up his thrusts, rabbiting into him like only a 27-year-old could after staying up until 2am waiting for Mox to come home.

Claudio is still looking at Mox like a devotee, fingers massaging his cock, and Mox is squirming between the two men as Yuta's hips start to stutter.

"Mox," Yuta whines, and Mox swears sloppily under his breath, bowing forward as Bryan watches his pussy clench down on Yuta's cock. Yuta's hips jerk forward a couple times before he starts pulling out, panting, cum smeared along his shaft and dribbling out of Mox's pussy.

Bryan makes quick work of Mox's testosterone injection, taking advantage of his post-sex exhaustion. Once it's done, he throws the needle and the needle tops into the sharps container and turns around, snickering.

It was so strange to him, to see how Mox just brushed it off after a week, smoked through a pack of cigarettes about it and then went back to work. How the only time he was truly affected was in that ring when he slammed his fists down. And Yuta would tell you that he suspected Mox was hiding something, stuffing it down inside.

And Yuta would be wrong.

Mox had been down this road with Regal, time and time and time again. Regal had hurt him, time and time and time again. Mox had loved him, time and time-

He still does love him. Is the fucked up thing. But if he were being honest with himself, he wasn't surprised at this point. Maybe, for a second, he thought the old man might stay because of Yuta, because Regal doted on the kid and he always had this little soft spot for him that got him to make exceptions. Like when they were driving and Yuta would beg for Wendy's, and Regal would say 'just this once' even though they knew he'd pull over again if Yuta asked.

But then, one day, Regal had looked at Mox during training, while Bryan was bending Yuta into impossible shapes, and he said,

"Master Wheeler reminds me so very much of you."

That's when Mox's heart dropped. That's when Mox realized there were no exceptions when it came to Regal. He would leave them, always.

Maybe it was a little fucked up that Mox was kind of proud that he was the one Regal turned on, not anyone else. He was the one important enough to make the fall guy. He was the one Regal targeted. Mox got the most of his attention, in the end. So no, that part didn't fuck Mox up.

The part that fucked him up was that Regal had gone and stayed gone. This time, he stayed gone. This time, it felt like the last time, and Mox...didn't really know what to do with that. Which was why Yuta didn't see him freak out - Mox didn't know how to freak out about Regal being gone for good.

And so he freaked out about something he knew how to freak out about.

"Has he come out at all?" Claudio asks Yuta, who is sitting against the bathroom door, a blanket over his legs and a pillow under his back. He's prepared to sleep there if need be, though, he hopes Bryan will be able to coax Mox out.

"No," Yuta mutters. "He's still in there. He's been giving me answers, though, so...he's not like, drowning. But he needs to talk to Bryan."

Bryan, entering the room behind Claudio, sighs heavily and sets his bag down beside the door. 

"Did he say why?" Bryan asks, and both Yuta and Claudio shoot him a look so exhausted and unamused that Bryan immediately holds his hands up and says, "Fine, fuck. Yuta, out of the way."

Yuta begrudgingly leaves his post, gathering his blanket and pillow and moving to the bedroom of their hotel room with Claudio. Bryan expects the bathroom door to be locked, what with how Yuta was waiting outside, so he's surprised to find the handle turning when he puts pressure on it. When it opens, he's greeted with quite the sight - Jon Moxley, sitting on the bathroom floor, naked and wet from the shower, shivering.

"Why didn't Yuta try to open the door?" Bryan demands as he steps into the room and grabs a fluffy towel off the rack. Mox shrugs, but says,

"I told 'im I'd jump off the balcony if he came in."

"And now why would you say that? You know he actually believes you," Bryan scolds, wrapping the towel around Mox, if only to keep him warm. Mox turns his head so he doesn't have to look Bryan in the eye, and Bryan sighs heavily, sitting down with a loud grunt opposite Mox, his back to the cabinets. 

Bryan rests one leg out in front of him and he bumps Mox's hip with his foot, but still, Mox looks off to the side. The rest rimming his eyes tells Bryan nearly enough, but not everything he needs to know.

"...So. Why are we just now having a breakdown?" Bryan asks. "I said I'm retiring in a year, not leaving for good."

"I didn't say nothin' about you retiring," Mox says, his voice hoarse and wispy, ruined by the lump in his throat. Bryan shakes his head.

"No, no, but I announced it in the ring and when I came back, suddenly you were ranting about Regal, and how he left you, and how we're supposed to be a family. I'm sure that's a coincidence, but just in case it isn't, humor me," Bryan says sarcastically. Mox frowns at him, and it would make Bryan laugh if Mox didn't look so fucking dejected.

There's a beat of quiet, where Mox gets his thoughts together. Then, Bryan sees a line appear just above his lower lids, something wavering and wet, clumping his lower lashes together.

"...So, you're just gonna leave?" Mox demands, still trying to sound tough. "Just like that? Fucking ride off into the sunset after a couple more matches and leave it all behind? Like it's something you can leave behind? Like we didn't form a fucking club together?"

"Jon-"

"What about the kid, Bry? Huh? You just gonna leave his ass again? What about Claudio? You chose him. You're just gonna leave him?"

Bryan sighs and rests his head back against the cabinet under the sink, watching as Mox glares at him, breathing hard, fat tears shaking off the tips of his lashes and rolling down his cheeks. Mox hitches a breath and his low brow furrows even lower.

"...You gonna go back to him? Wherever the fuck he lives now, you're gonna go crawling back to him and live happily ever fucking after refilling his meds and not answering our calls? He told you where he is, didn't he?" Mox demands, and Bryan shakes his head, no. Mox swallows thickly, his adam's apple bobbing hard. He could stay something right now, but he can feel that Mox is just about to get to it, the point of this whole brakedown.

Finally,

"What if I don't want to be left? You ever fucking think about that? Maybe...I just want you to fucking stick around?" Mox demands, waving an arm around, his voice cracking. It's hoarse and gravelly and terrible, and Bryan wants to pour some water down that dry, scratchy throat that's probably ruined by tobacco. 

Instead, Bryan shakes his head and taps Mox's hip harder with his foot.

"I love Regal, and I always will," he says, and Mox angrily throws up his hand and starts scrubbing the tears off his face. "But, no. I have no idea where he is."

"Then where the fuck you gonna go?" Mox demands, voice muffled as his hand wipes his face. Bryan shrugs.

"Um, I was thinking home?" Bryan says. Mox drops his hand and shrugs, sniffing hard as he focuses his attention back on Bryan. "As much as you want to take out what Regal did on me, it's not going to happen. I'm retiring, you dumb fuck. Not dying. Not breaking up with you. I'm gonna stay here, with the guy I started this club with, with the men we handpicked for this club. 

"I couldn't leave you, Mox. I can't. I'm not Regal, as much as I like to pretend to be. So can we stop pretending like I'm going to leave your sorry ass?" Bryan asks. Mox levels Bryan with a hard look, a familiar look, one that Bryan's been on the recieving end of more than once. He stays perfectly still, doesn't break eye contact. He lets Mox look for what he's looking for, and when he finds it, it's a sudden change.

Mox's shoulders drop and his brow relaxes. The most pathetic look of relief over his face makes Bryan want to fucking propose to the guy. 

"Before you ask," Bryan says, quieter now, "I don't know why he left. If I did, maybe I could get him back, but I can't. Okay? I can't get him back. All I can promise you is that I'm here to stay. I kind of want to see what the rest of my life looks like with you."

Mox lets out a harsh breath and he pushes the towel away, crawling up to Bryan. And Bryan will pretend to be annoyed by how Mox is wet from the shower and now he's making Bryan's jeans wet, but he'll hold Mox tightly just the same.

A few minutes later, as they emerge from the bathroom, Mox finds Yuta sitting up on the bed with Claudio laying against the headboard. Yuta's alert the moment Mox enters the room, and Claudio says,

"He wouldn't go to bed without knowing you were okay. It's so far past his bedtime, but he threw a tantrum."

Yuta narrows his eyes and purses his lips at Claudio.

"...I'm 27 years old," he says, and Claudio beams at him. Before the two can bicker, Mox kneels onto the bed and Yuta wraps his arms around him instantly, putting Mox in a hold with his long arms and lithe fingers. He leans into the youngest of them, nosing at his neck. Yuta squeezes Mox; he's so ready to give affection, to receive it. Though Yuta had been through his fair share, perhaps too much for his age, he wasn't broken like Mox had been at his age. 

Regal had done his worst, but Mox managed to save a little bit in Yuta what couldn't be saved in himself. 

"Anyone else having a breakdown because I'm retiring?" Bryan asks, sitting down next to Claudio at the head of the bed. Yuta's head pops up and he asks,

"You're staying with us, right? Like, this isn't 'in a year I'm breaking up with you' kind of thing, is it?"

Bryan rolls his eyes and throws his hands up.

"Why does everyone think that? Do you really think I would just leave?" Bryan asks. Yuta's fingers twitch on Mox's back, and Mox tilts his head. Yuta, however, keeps his wide, curious eyes fixed on Bryan, as if in a challenge. 

"No, I don't think you would, but I didn't think Regal would, either," Yuta says with a shrug. "...So tell us you're going to stay. ...Promise."

"Okay, okay," Bryan says, sitting up closer to them. "Jesus, I didn't think it was that big of a deal. I'm not leaving, I'm just retiring, staying at home more, training you at home where I can keep you idiots under my thumb."

Yuta was sick for innumerable reasons, exhausted and stretched thin as he was. Honestly, Mox should have been sick, but perhaps he had a stronger constitution than Yuta, who can feel his bones aching as he walks through the gym the morning after All Out.

Claudio is there waiting for him, stretching on the floor in his black BCC shorts and the sleeveless hoodie. Yuta offers a smile that hurts his face, got, everything hurts. He doesn't think he's been in this much pain ever, and that's not including the stuffiness in his nose, the ache in his head, the weakness in his muscles, or the fever that's making him sweat despite not having left the house that day.

"Yuta?"

His head snaps up and he notices that Bryan is there, too, leaning against the punching bag, hands in his pockets. Yuta blinks dumbly, then asks,

"Yeah? What's up?"

"I asked you if you're ready for your punishment," Bryan asks again, a pale brow lifting. The door swings open behind Yuta and Mox walks past him, ruffling his hair on his way past. Yuta stumbles forward a bit, his body off-kilter, but he finds his footing as fast as he can. Clearing his throat, Yuta nods to Bryan, saying quietly enough that the hoarse of his throat can't be heard,

"Yes, sir."

"I punished him, isn't that enough?" Claudio asks, popping up onto his feet and jumping in place twice. "I uppercut him like five times."

"He likes when you punish him," Bryan quips.

No I don't, Yuta thinks. I like that Claudio compliments me when I'm punished.

At the moment, however, he doesn't think he could take it from either man. They bicker back and forth, Mox watching with a grin because he loves seeing the boys bicker. Claudio raises the point that they didn't lose at All Out, Bryan raises the point that Yuta lost to Eddie before that.

"He still needed you," Bryan says, pushing off the punching bag. Yuta can feel his pulse pounding against his skull and his stomach is churning, but he fights through it. Bryan is right.

Yuta lost.

Yuta kept losing.

It was becoming more and more apparent that Kenny Omega was a fluke, and Yuta. Was better. Knew better. Than to still be that insecure. They'd beaten it into him time and time and time again: He was part of the BCC, they love him, there's nothing that could come between them. It had been so long since the last time these thoughts invaded Yuta's brain, he had been so confident, and yet.

And yet.

"I'll take it," Yuta says, stepping in front of Bryan when he's mid-sentence. Bryan blinks and looks Yuta up and down for a moment, then nods smugly to Claudio.

"See? He knows he deserves it."

Tell me I take it well, Yuta begs, knowing Bryan won't. He claps his arms behind his back and feels his feverish skin under his fingertips, which is so odd, because a series of chills break out over Yuta's body. Tell me you love me like you did when you broke your arm. Tell me you didn't have enough time to reconsider when you were benched. Tell me my place and I'll take it.

It isn't fair. It wasn't fair back then, constantly questioning their love. It must have been exhausting, dealing with him. And perhaps it's the fever, perhaps it's the way his bones ache from the inside out, maybe it's that Yuta is so fucking sick, but the thoughts come tumbling back in.

Bryan's in front of him, but Yuta's vision is swimming. He bites the inside of his cheek hard to steady himself and he lifts his head as Bryan raises his hand, bracing himself firmly on the mats. Still, it isn't enough to keep him upright when Bryan's palm snaps across Yuta's cheek. It's as if his balance has been completely compromised and he can't even hit his knees. Yuta falls in a tumble onto his side, dazed, arm bent under him.

"Hey!"

"What? I didn't hit him that hard, he's being dramatic! Yuta, get up," Bryan demands.

I always get back up, Yuta thinks to himself. That's the difference between me and Eddie. That's why I'm here. They love me because I keep getting back up. They tolerate me when I'm awful because I get back up. He pushes his arms under himself and exhales hard when the world tilts around him and nearly sends him rolling onto his back, as if he's in a hamster ball.

"Yuta, get up!" Bryan repeats, sharper this time. Yuta tucks his knees under his chest and pushes. His feet stumble under his knees. "...Yuta?" He can get up. He always gets back up. The two biggest pay-per-views in AEW history just passed and Mox, Claudio, and Bryan have shown up and shown out that they're the greatest wrestlers in history. Yuta can't slip up.

He has his feet under him for a moment and he straightens his back, lifting his head despite this dawning illness sliding heavily down his gut, his muscles hot and aching, his skin cold and prickly.

When Bryan's face swims into view, Yuta thinks he might look concerned.

"Mmph," Yuta groans, feeling his jaw start to split, his head stuffy, his throat crackling. "Sorry," he grunts, before things spin out of control around him, like someone had just spun the center wheel on the teacup ride.

The next thing Yuta knows, he's being lifted up in someone's arms from the ground, his head lolling back. Someone is shouting, and it's so fucking loud. God, it's so loud, it drives a spike into Yuta's skull. He turns and buries his face in Claudio's chest (this has to be Claudio, he feels like he's light as a feather and only one man can carry him like that).

"Shh, you're hurting his head. Yuta, prinzli, we are taking you upstairs. Poor thing," Claudio says softly, and Yuta frowns, pressing his forehead hard into Claudio's collarbone.

"M'sorry...just need a second. I can still train, I'm just- the jetlag is fucking me up."

"This is more than jetlag," Mox says, ruffling Yuta's hair. "All that fuckin' travel will ruin your body. I'm surprised you didn't get sick right after All In. Ain't used to all of this."

"On the bright side, this will train your immune system," Claudio adds, strangely chipper for Yuta having just fucked their training schedule. And Yuta is sure he would be spiralling harder if he had the mental fortitude to think, only his brain is currently melting in fever, and everything hurts, and all he wants is about five gallons of ice water and ten hours of sleep.

Yuta ends up dozing in the short trip upstairs to the guest room, where he's laid down and his training pants and track shirt are pulled off. He grunts and wraps his arms around his stomach, trying to preserve warmth on his skin, wishing he could get cooler inside. There's no middle ground - he's just fucking miserable.

"Hey," Bryan says, and Yuta curls onto his side, hand reaching out. He wants Bryan to know he's listening without having to open his eyes. Bryan's thick fingers meet Yuta's and he palms Yuta's hand, rubbing over the top gently. "You can tell us when you're sick, Yuta. You don't have to play tough guy just because Eddie Kingston made you his bitch."

Yuta screws up his face and shifts his face forward until he's headbutting Bryan's hip.

"You're so mean," he whines, knowing it's weak, but he's weak. He's exhausted and weak and miserable. "...I need to train harder. Still losing my singles matches. I don't fucking need this, man, this sucks."

The sheets are pulls up to Yuta's chest and someone gently rubs a cool, wet cloth down his naked spine. Someone else lays on his legs, and Mox's chin rests on his lower belly. When Yuta forces his eyes open, he can see Mox kicking his feet in the air, rubbing his chin on the comforter above Yuta's stomach.

"You're sick, deal with it," Mox says. "By the looks of it, you're real fuckin' sick. So you know what that means."

"I miss training," Yuta mumbles, closing his eyes against and resting his hot forehead against Bryan's hip. "And keep losing."

"What? Hey, we won," Claudio corrects Yuta, wiping the cloth across Yuta's shoulders, giving him a small reprieve from the incredible heat.

"You won," Yuta corrects him. Bryan sighs, and Yuta feels him squeezing his hand a couple times in the silence that follows. "...Sorry. Don't wanna be a jerk. I'm just sick," Yuta apologizes.

"You know that's not what we think of you," Claudio says, and he presses the cloth to Yuta's ribs. "Of course you are losing, prinzli. Edward has been wrestling since before you were born. Everyone you have faced one-on-one has experience, height, and muscle over you. If you were suddenly winning, taht would be insane."

"We're not training you just to win, bunny," Mox says, resting his cheek on Yuta's belly, as if he's going to sleep now. "We're training you to show up."

"...Oh," Yuta says softly. Bryan snorts and pats Yuta's hand, then sets it down on the sheets. Yuta, however, doesn't let go of him, gripping him tight as his anxious thoughts and happy thoughts all fall to the wayside of being, and he cannot stress this enough, incredibly fucking sick. "Don't go, I'm sick," he whines.

"You'll get us sick if we stay," Bryan says, long-suffering. Claudio snickers and presses the cloth more firmly against the back of Yuta's humid neck.

"We can bring the couch from the office into here, watch some TV while our little one sleeps. So we know if he needs us," Claudio offers.

"I'm already asleep," Mox grunts. Yuta feels a rush of warmth that isn't from the fever, that isn't from his body trying to kill the invasive germs. Bryan huffs and manages to pry his hand out of Yuta's, but his hand quickly rests on Yuta's head and he scritches at his hair.

The shouting, the slamming weights, the merciless rain of punches that sock the air out of the punching bag. The exact source of Claudio’s rage isn’t completely apparent, though they are aware that there was a scuffle backstage between Claudio and PAC, and Claudio got fined and suspended for it. That meant Regal went down hard on him in training, and Claudio was now exhausted, punished, and angry. Plus, he was going to miss Rampage.

Regal walks into the living room where all his freshly showered boys, minus Claudio, are sitting nervously. He is about to ask why they are all sitting around looking like they have a bounty on their heads when he hears a loud, hollow thud from downstairs and a loud swear that makes even Mox jump. He blinks, brows his up, eyes wide. He hadn’t heard Claudio rage, not like this, since their Fed days. Even then, at least it was contained to the ring, with the occasional locker room trashing.

With a heavy sigh, Regal pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’ve tried to work him out of his rage. We’ve given him space to work out his rage. I fear his next course of action is to put a hole through the wall,” Regal laments. He shakes his head and drops his hand, his eyes falling on Yuta. “I’m afraid we’ll have to send the boy.”

Yuta pops up immediately, ready and waiting. He’s well versed in what seems to be a recurring role for him in the household, between Mox’s frequent rages, Regal’s occasional silent seething, and Bryan’s hissy fits. He looks back at the guys and says,

“I’ll take him to the other bedroom, probably. Claudio gets prickly when he’s mad.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t been mad like this recently,” Mox warns, leaning back and putting his feet on the coffee table. He looks more relaxed already, draping his arm around Bryan’s shoulders and pulling him in to kiss his temple. “Bob and weave, kid.”

Yuta rolls his eyes, slipping past Regal to go downstairs. Mox watches him go, then he looks to Regal.

“Good choice. Swiss is fucking pissed, man. I was afraid he was gonna rip my head off during training,” Mox says. “But he was gentle as can be with the kid.”

“I suspect Yuta will have a calming effect on him, as he does on you,” Regal says, sitting on Bryan’s other side on the couch. He smiles at Bryan and runs his fingers through his loose blonde hair. Bryan sits back into it and keeps himself quiet as they listen for any telltale sign of more of Claudio’s anger. The quiet minutes stretch on into a half hour, then an hour, and by then they’ve brewed their nighttime tea, had it, and Bryan is setting the teacups in the sink.

Nearly an hour and a half later, Mox is helping Regal up off the couch, readying for bed.

“Should we check on them?” Bryan asks, holding his arm out for Regal to hold. Regal takes both boys’ arms and gives them a gentle squeeze, shaking his head.

“They are either fine or having intercourse. Either way, it is not our place,” Regal says softly. Mox snorts and pats Regal’s back, saying,

“I’ll go check. Meet you boys upstairs.”

They seem to relent, and Bryan helps Regal up the stairs while Mox sneaks downstairs to the basement. The door to the training room is already ajar, so he manages to get his foot in the small space and nudge it open enough to get a peek inside. And once he finds them, he can’t help the smile that splits across his face, the soft chuckle that leaves him. It’s quiet enough that he isn’t found out, so he gets to stand there and watch.

Claudio is holding Yuta around his waist, and Yuta’s legs are around Claudio’s hips. Typically, Mox would find them naked, only they’re fully clothed and Yuta’s gently running his fingers over Claudio’s head, muttering happily into his ear. Claudio is pacing back and forth across the floor, using Yuta as a kettlebell for a kind of modified Farmer’s Walk. Yuta, happy to be a piece of gym equipment, kisses Claudio’s temple.

“You feeling any better, or do we need to do another rep?” Yuta asks. Claudio pauses at the corner of the mat and sighs. Finally, he squeezes Yuta’s waist and mutters,

“I am better, min karlek. But I do not want to disturb the others, they’re probably sleeping and I have caused enough noise tonight.”

Yuta smiles and cups the back of Claudio’s neck, giving it a squeeze. Claudio drops his head and lets Yuta massage the back of his neck gently, still holding Yuta aloft as if it’s the easiest thing in the world. Likely because he benches more than Yuta weighs.

“You can sleep in the guest room. Do you want me to sleep in there with-?”

“Yes, yes, I need my Yuta.”

“You sap,” Yuta giggles. Mox watches as the muscles in Claudio’s back relax, and his shoulders shake a couple times. Mox swears he hears a laugh from Claudio, and seeing as how Yuta had done his job once more, Mox steps back to leave them be.

When he gets upstairs, the question is on Bryan and Regal’s faces. Mox pulls his shirt and jeans off, leaves them in a pile on the floor for Bryan to frown at, and he slips into the bed beside Regal.

“They’re good,” Mox says, tucking against Regal’s side as the old man opens a book. “Yuta’s got Claudio wrapped around his finger, don’t he?”