#trans!regal

“It…it’s…. Do you have feeling in it?”

“Go ahead and see, sunshine.”

Every touch is exploratory, gentle, curious. Yuta hadn’t met anyone who’d had a full bottom surgery before, and a thousand questions come to mind as he touches around Regal’s t-cock, feels where a vagina once was.

But all the questions sound far too clinical, and Yuta thinks he’s going to die if Regal doesn’t fuck him with this right now. But Regal is patient, he allows the curious touches, is slow as he lays Yuta down on his stomach, as he slowly opens up his young charge with skilled fingers.

Yuta is sopping wet, betraying what he’s trying to hide with a hand over his mouth. The last thing he needs is for Mox or Bryan or Claudio to hear Yuta wailing in the room over from them, to have someone walk in and find Yuta trembling under Regal’s pumping fingers. So he tries to keep quiet, stifling his whine when Regal removes his fingers.

“Please, please,” he breathes from behind his hand. He hears Regal’s gentle chuckling behind him, but it isn’t demeaning. It’s affectionate, in a way.

“You needn’t worry about noise pollution, petal,” Regal says softly. “They’ll hear you in the end.”

“Th-that’s cocky, sir,” Yuta pants, trying to pretend the words didn’t sent a pleasant tremor down his spine. If the guys hear….

“You make a beautiful sight. Hips up a bit, dear…. Ah, there we are. Oh, the boys will be jealous. Perhaps I keep you to myself,” Regal muses, guiding Yuta’s back to bow just like he guides Yuta’s body in training. Yuta buries his face in his arms and takes in a deep breath, thighs shaking.

He feels Regal’s cockhead press to his entrance and Yuta whines softly, the excitement making him dizzy.

“Are you ready, flower? Tell me if anything feels wrong,” Regal checks, and Yuta nods. Yes. God, fucking yes.

Yuta isn’t a religious man, but Regal’s steady thrusts bring Yuta closer to heaven than he’s ever been. Regal is hard, he can get hard, he can fuck Yuta even if only a few inches deep, even if he pulls out all the way every time - it makes it better. Being empty and full, empty and full. And Yuta sobs at the face of god when Regal hits somewhere just right.

——

“Kid’s getting laid,” Mox says the second Bryan steps into the bedroom. Both Mox and Claudio have their ears pressed to the wall, smiles on their faces. Bryan can’t help but to laugh and take both of them by the arms, tugging them away.

Mox is masculinity stripped out of a Hollywood movie and slapped onto a man. Yuta can't help but to envy the thick chest hair, the full beard, the way Mox carries himself that's just so.... It's strong. It's confident. He's manly, for lack of a better term, and Yuta wants that.

So he copies it, as best he can. Tries growing out some patchy chest hair, and his beard never sits quite right on his face, he thinks, and when he walks he just seems lanky and unsure of himself. But he tries, god, he tries, and he tries, and he just-

Some days are harder than others.

"Why ain't you naked?" Mox mutters against the back of Yuta's neck, arm wrapping around him as Yuta slides into bed. Mox's big hand rests on Yuta's chest, and Yuta exhales softly. A small moment goes by, then Mox nudges his nose into Yuta's neck and mutters, "You good?"

Yuta's good because he has Mox, and Mox has him. And Yuta isn't good, because some days he wants to tear off parts of his body and make them different, mould himself like clay, but he can't. He can't and that makes him anxious and it makes him want to wrap himself in enough layers that his body will just disappear underneath.

But men don't talk about stuff like that, so Yuta just nods and Mox holds him a little tighter that night.

-

Bryan doesn't help.

He doesn't mean to be hard, and Yuta never tells him otherwise, so it isn't his fault when he laughs after Yuta's arms give out during training, or when he fumbles a submission hold, or when he has a nick on his face from shaving. Yuta tries to shoulder it, because that's what men do. They take the ribbing, try to give it back. Pretend it doesn't cut a little bit deeper when he can't keep up.

Sometimes he's okay. Sometimes, Yuta watches Bryan obsess over Garcia and he can't help but feel like if he were a little stronger, a little more masculine, was born like Garcia was born, if he could just...if he could just be Garcia. If his body was strong like that naturally. If. Then maybe Bryan wouldn't keep looking at Yuta like he was a consolation prize.

-

Claudio is....

Claudio is kind.

Claudio can't help that he's perfect at fucking everything, and so Yuta tends to avoid him during training. Because the only thing worse than being the weakest is being the weakest by far. Still....

"Would you like some help?"

Yuta glances up, sees Claudio smiling softly at him in the bathroom mirror. Yuta grips the razor in his hand, glances at the sloppily-applied shaving cream on his face. But men don't need to ask for help, men know how to shave, and so Yuta shakes his head. Claudio pauses, waits, and then after a moment he steps forward and slips the razor from Yuta's hand.

"Like this. Shave with the direction of the follicles," Claudio says softly, and he gently drags the razor down Yuta's cheek. "You don't want too much of this cream on your face, you won't be able to see your beard. Here, let's start over. And we will use my razor, it has a guard on it so you can control the length of the beard."

And so Claudio washes Yuta's face, applies more shaving cream - this time, a lighter layer - and he holds Yuta's hand as the electric razor buzzes in his fingers. Slow strokes, down and down, forming a perfect line along his cheek. Claudio smiles the entire time, his words gentle and encouraging.

And Yuta can't help but wonder if this is what it's like to have a big brother.

-

Yuta gets hurt, and he thinks the whole world might fucking end.

It wasn't enough to lose the title to Daniel, to see Bryan put the belt on the man he really wanted in the club. It wasn't enough to have Claudio try to pity him with a talk on 'sometimes we lose so we can grow.' It wasn't enough that Mox was too focused on getting his title to really notice anything outside Jericho. It wasn't enough that Yuta felt like he was slipping.

Now he's hurt.

It happens in training - something small, landing on the mat from the top rope, and he should do a lariat. He should. Except his fucking knee gives way, and Yuta falls to the mat, clutching his leg as a pain pulses from under his kneecap.

He was supposed to like pain. Not this kind of pain, though. This unlovable pain.

"Stop!" Regal's voice had boomed through the training room, and Yuta already knew. He already knew what was happening, and now he was out, and now he was on the bench, and now he was sitting in the training room at two in the morning because he can't slow down, he can't hold himself back, he can't give them any excuse to kick him out.

Because men deal with this.

Yuta sits on the mat and glares at himself in the mirror. When he blinks, the tears that cloud his vision fall onto his chest, and he can see the scars in stark contrast with the rest of his tanned skin. He knows men where their scars blend in so easy, but his don't. Always there. Always pronounced. His shorts lay flat across his crotch. His chest hair is patchy. His knee is taped up.

They won't want a consolation prize, Yuta says in his head, remembering the speech he gave after he lost his title. They won't want second-best. They won't take excuses. They won't want me if I'm broken in a way they can't fix.

But Mox has said he loves him. Said it last month, quietly, in the showers. Meant it, because he said it again and again and again. But sometimes, Yuta's brain tells him it's a lie, that he says it so much because he feels bad for Yuta. Bryan says he loves him, too, but Yuta's never fully believed it. Bryan's never gone out of his way to make it believable. Claudio has lain in bed with the three of them, breaths heaving, fingers slipping and gripping and sliding. Wet, lewd sounds of what was supposed to be love.

Claudio's never complained. Claudio's perfect. Yuta's not even close.

"Ah, there you are. I grew worried when I didn't see you in bed with the boys," Regal says softly. Yuta jerks in place, quickly bringing his arms up so he can scrub the tears off his face with his forearms. Regal walks across the training room, over the mat, that makes up the entirety of the BCC mansion basement.

"I couldn't sleep," Yuta mutters after clearing his throat, keeping his face turned away from Regal. His mentor walks behind him, sits next to him. He's in a grey shirt, black sleep pants, thick socks because he gets cold. It's the most dressed down Yuta's ever seen him.

Regal doesn't join them in bed. Regal invites others into his room. He's only ever let Yuta kiss him before, late at night, after Yuta first one his championship. Breathing heavy, eyes alight, and Regal had leaned down and muttered against Yuta's lips Go ahead, sunshine.

Ever since that night, Yuta was too afraid of approaching Regal again. He felt....

If Regal wasn't impressed. If Regal found a flaw. In bed. In Yuta.

Yuta was pretty sure he'd die.

"You push yourself so hard, don't you?" Regal asks, and his large hand rests on Yuta's bandaged knee. "You outwork everyone here, even Bryan. Even Claudio. But you know, rest is essential to the warrior's toolkit. After all, you saw Bryan lose to Garcia when he came back far too soon."

"It's not that bad," Yuta says softly, only looking over once his face is dry. Regal smiles at him, and there's a sadness there. There's not pity, no, just sadness. And he's beautiful, and he's barrel-chested, and he's rugged, and he's life-worn. Yuta looks at Regal and he knows he won't ever be that.

"You try so hard, petal," Regal says softly, and Yuta bites his lower lip, because he's so, so, so tired. "You don't need to."

"...I do," Yuta breathes, and he wishes his voice wouldn't shake. "I have to try harder. Because.... To be...like them. As good as them. As you. I have to try.... If I don't, then Garcia- Bryan already doesn't- I'm now. It's not the same. For me. I have to try harder."

"You don't. We loved you from the first moment you stepped foot into this home."

"Bryan didn't want me. He wanted a man. Mox loves men, Claudio likes men, I have to try because-"

Regal reaches over and he places his hands on Yuta's wet cheeks, thumbing the tears out of the corners of his eyes, and there's a sadness in his eyes that's so much more potent now. He shakes his head gently, tsking.

"That's not true. Bryan wanted you. He's just a bit of a terrible boy, you know? He isn't as forthcoming as Mox. He doesn't know how his actions hurt others."

"...I just want to be...enough. M-man enough...I want to be...."

"You are," Regal says firmly, hands pressing Yuta's face slightly. "You are, my terror. My flower. My weapon. You are more than enough, because you are you, and Wheeler Yuta is the man we chose. ...What was it you just said? You want to be man enough? Do you think because your body has different ingredients that it makes you any less a man?"

Yuta goes quiet. Because the truth is complicated, and it's hard to articulate when his throat is stuffed up and the pain in his knee is making it hard to think. Regal pauses a moment, must see that Yuta's struggling, because he doesn't ask him again. Instead, he sighs and stands up, taking one of Yuta's hands and guiding him to his feet with him.

Once they're standing, Yuta sniffing and trying to look a bit less snotty and waifish, Regal takes the neck of his own shirt and tugs it up. Yuta doesn't register that Regal is stripping out of his shirt for a second, because it's so...it's so much. Because Regal is Regal and Yuta's never been worthy to see him in anything less than his night clothes, and-

And Regal pulls his shirt off without struggle, holds it in his left hand, and motions to his chest.

Where there are two perfect little scars, curved and cupping the underside of his chest. Yuta's eyes widen slowly, and all coherent thoughts fly out of his mind. He reaches a hand forward and gently touches the center of Regal's chest before he can think if that's polite or not. Regal, however, doesn't slap his hand away. Instead, he puts his hand over Yuta's and guides his fingers along the scar under his left pec.

"You...?"

"Am I any less than I was a moment ago, sunshine?" Regal asks in a tone that already knows Yuta's answer. The younger man is shaking his head before Regal can finish speaking. Because Regal is a man. Regal is the pinnacle. Regal is the goal. Yuta feels the tender scar tissue.

"...I didn't know," Yuta says softly. "Why didn't anyone tell me that...?"