Chapter Text
Being in a tag team was a new concept to Tony Deppen. For most of his career up to this point he had been a singles wrestler, most people put off by his spontaneity and vulgarity in the ring. How he ended up joining up with Travis Huckabee and Icarus in the new incarnation of FIST he really didn’t know, but he could give it a shot for a while. If he hated it, he could just pull the ol’ “randomly snap and turn on your partners” bit and wash his hands of the experience, easy peasy.
Well, it would have been easy peasy until he realized what being in a stable apparently entailed in Chikara. Quackenbush wanted them to spend as much time as possible together, get to know each other, so that they could better work as a team during matches. “If you must share every meal together then so be it, but I want you all to move as one unit,” he had said in his manner-of-fact way that he gave all his pep talks. How close did he want them all to get, exactly?
So now, Tony found himself walking up the steps to Icarus’s house for the first ever “Team FIST bondage party,” as Icarus had so eloquently named it. It was a funny name, he had to admit.
For as sleazy of a dude as Icarus portrayed himself, his house was actually pretty nice. Tony’s shitty little apartment back in Hershey couldn’t even compare; this place literally looked like a Better Home & Garden cover. The mailbox had little fucking clouds painted on the front of it, for God’s sake. He hadn’t realized just how long he’d spent admiring the outside until the front door abruptly swung open, Icarus jovially greeting him with a beer already in hand, “Deppen, buddy, so glad you could make it!”
In 99% of most situations, Tony was the loud, sociable one, but he felt awkward being pulled into the house of his new tag partner that he barely really knew, and he couldn’t think of much to say. Travis was already seated in the living room, looking rather comfortable on the couch with his own beer and his feet kicked up on the coffee table. He’d known Icarus longer than Tony had, it made sense.
“Alright, I’m not gonna make us do any fucking team building exercises or anything like Quack wants, but I am gonna pop on Wrestlemania 24 and we’re gonna enjoy some wrestling together, okay?” Icarus nearly pushed Tony into the empty recliner, the leg rest popping up right on que as he sat. The remaining cans of the 6-pack sat on the side table, and he took the liberty of grabbing one and cracking it open. He really couldn’t say no to free beer, after all, and watching any wrestling on a TV as massive as the one Icarus had set up was a treat.
As Tony took a swig from the can, his eyes wandered around the room to take in his surroundings. There were framed pictures everywhere, hanging on the walls and propped up on the entertainment center, of Icarus and some dude. A boyfriend? Husband? Icarus had never mentioned anyone before, but maybe Tony just hadn’t been paying attention. They must have been together for a while, as some of the photos showed Icarus looking a lot younger with a lot less hair. The other guy was cute, he had to admit, even with the blond skater boy haircut he had in the older pictures. Tony was lost in thought again, only refocusing when the loud “The world is watching” of the old WWE intro interrupted his thoughts.
Icarus had plopped onto the couch beside Travis and they engulfed themselves into their own mini conversation, completely leaving Tony out. Whatever, maybe they had something important to talk about, he didn’t really care. He didn’t even really care about the PPV either, instead taking his phone out and seeing how much prying he could do into Icarus’s relationship. It wasn't creepy, right? He was just curious now, and there was nothing wrong with that.
Incognito mode was a life saver, and Tony swiftly found Icarus’s (thankfully public) facebook profile. Front and center in his profile picture were him and that guy again, dressed nicely at what appeared to be some wedding. It wasn’t theirs, as in his “relationship status” it didn’t say “married”. It did, however, finally reveal the name of his boyfriend.
Cloudy.
Wait, Tony had heard that name before. Dude had been wrestling for years, used to team with Cheech and Brodie Lee. He used to work for Chikara, that’s probably how he and Icarus had met. He had no clue that they were together, especially not for this long. Tony was even more curious now, not hesitating to click on Cloudy’s profile to-
Private. Fuck. Why did he have to have a private profile? Didn’t he know some people liked to snoop?
With a small sigh of defeat, Tony glanced back at his tag partners. They were closer to each other than before, just so that he picked up on it, but it was innocuous enough. When Tony went to stand they seemed caught off guard, Travis noticeably tensing away, “Can I, uh, use the bathroom?”
Icarus cleared his throat, nodding and pointing off down the hall, “First door on the left.”
Why was that all so awkward?
Tony meandered off to the restroom, even though he really didn’t have to go. Was it a little creepy to lie about it just to check out more of the house? Yeah, probably. But it wouldn’t be the first time Tony was called creepy, and wouldn’t be the last either. Thankfully, the other two seemed to go right back to- whatever they were doing, and stopped paying attention once Tony had cleared the threshold to the hallway.
More frames of varying sizes lined the walls leading up to and past the bathroom door, though Tony only really cared about the ones with Cloudy in them. He had a nice smile, all teeth, kind of goofy but endearing. Clearly he’d been around the block a few times, as Tony recognized quite a few of the others pictured with him; Orange Cassidy, Chris Hero, Colin Delaney, Brodie Lee. They all towered over him, Cloudy looking like a teenager in comparison to them. Looking at the more recent photos, Tony had to admit that he had aged very well. He was never not attractive, but adding a couple pounds of muscle and some facial hair did wonders. There was nothing wrong with admitting that; Tony was allowed to think the guy was cute.
After what was probably far too long perusing, Tony figured he should rejoin their little get together. He flushed the toilet for believability and started back towards the living room, but stopped dead in his tracks just as he rounded the corner. Did the one beer he barely finished get him drunk and he just didn’t know it? Or was he really seeing Icarus with his arm wrapped around Travis’s shoulders, and Travis’s hand on Icarus’s thigh? Okay, he was definitely seeing it, but maybe it wasn’t what it looked like. Was that just a thing tag team partners did that he didn’t know about? Quack did want them to get close, so maybe-
Oh, wait, they just kissed.
Holy shit they just kissed. What the fuck?
There had to be a good explanation for everything. Maybe-maybe Icarus and Cloudy weren’t together anymore? And Icarus just never updated his facebook? And Cloudy moved out? And Icarus just never took any pictures down? Sure, that’s plausible; it was highly unlikely and sounded stupid, but it was possible.
The sound of keys and the front door knob wiggling caused everyone to jump, Travis and Icarus quickly separating from each other. Tony tried to appear normal, nonchalant, leaning against the wall and pretending like he was watching the TV.
“Hey guys!” There was Cloudy, that big smile plastered on his face, with a pizza box in hand, “Sorry I’m late to the party, work kept me late. But I brought dinner!” He set the food down on the coffee table, immediately leaning in to kiss Icarus.
Tony put on his best poker face, which knowing him probably still sucked. That theory he was trying to concoct was clearly null and void, and now instead of confusion he felt a mixture of anger and confliction. Icarus was cheating on Cloudy in the house that they share together. He witnessed it with his own two eyes, and now he had to look Cloudy in his very attractive face and pretend like he didn’t. He certainly had no problems looking at Cloudy’s face, or any part of him for that matter. Tony’s eyes followed the tight material of his shirt over his shoulders, down his back, to the hem of his jeans and right to his ass. That poker face of his could only hide so much and he mentally slapped himself for staring. His hands felt clammy, so he frantically wiped them against his pants before extending a hand, “Hi, I’m Tony. Cool to meet ya.”
Cloudy still wore a sweet smile as he returned the handshake. Fuck, his hands were soft, and his eyes were so pretty. They were dark brown, but caught just right in the light and sparkled, “Tony, it's good to finally meet you. I’ve watched some of your matches, it’s great that you’re in Chikara now.”
Tony’s heart thumped hard against his chest at the thought of Cloudy watching him wrestle. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER, DEPPEN. You’re falling apart here, why?! Cuz some cute guy said something nice to you?
After what was probably the most moist handshake of his career, Cloudy strode past Tony down the hall to what he presumed was his bedroom. Instead of picturing Cloudy getting undressed like he wanted to, Tony opted to hurriedly sit back down in the recliner and grab a slice of pizza to distract himself. He didn’t even want to make eye contact with the other two on the couch, those negative feelings from earlier not subsiding. These were his tag team partners, and they were having a fucking affair with each other. What kind of Dr. Phil shit did he just get himself into?
He was going to have to think about- all of this, long and hard. What do you even do in a situation like this? He knew the right thing to do was to tell Cloudy, but he had to be delicate about this if he wanted to keep getting booked and not blackballed from the business. This was all just… a lot. And at this moment Tony didn't want to worry about it. This could be Future Tony's problem. Present Tony decided it was time to polish off the rest of this 6 pack to ease his mind.
By the time the main event of Wrestlemania 24 started playing on the TV, Tony was far beyond tipsy. Those remaining 3 beers went down easy, and definitely did their job of relieving his anxiety. Now that Cloudy was home Icarus and Travis had stayed on opposite ends of the couch; Cloudy even sat between them after changing from his work clothes, cuddling up to Icarus. Tony bit his tongue; Icarus didn't deserve Cloudy or his cuddles. Now Tony, he deserved those cuddles. He should be the shoulder Cloudy's resting his head on.
Yeah, that would be nice. Then maybe his head would stop spinning. And maybe his stomach would stop hurting like he needed to puke.
Oh, no, he definitely just needed to puke.
Tony practically toppled the recliner over as he stood, his feet barely staying under him to carry him to the bathroom. The pizza did not taste as good coming up as it did going down, that's for sure. As if he didn't physically feel sick enough, he felt utterly embarrassed that he'd drank himself silly in front of everyone else. Especially Cloudy. He probably thought Tony was a total loser.
"Hey, you okay?" A knock came from the door frame, and Tony didn't even want to look up from the bowl. Now Cloudy was watching him lose his lunch. He wanted to crawl into the shower and keel over.
After several more heaves, Tony's stomach was empty and he was spent; he collapsed back against the wall, the cool surface granting solace to his headache as he closed his eyes. There was no way he'd be able to drive the hour to home feeling this way, he'd have to find a decent enough truck stop and hope to not be murdered in his sleep. Or hope that some crazy hobo would murder him and save him from future embarrassment he might bring upon himself.
He could hear Icarus and Travis outside the room, snickering and cracking jokes about how Tony “can’t hold his beer.” They were lucky he was out of it or he would have made a comeback about holding your tag team partner, or something funny like that. If he opened his mouth again he might blow more chunks, however, so inside his brain vault that went with everything he needed to revisit from tonight.
There was a soft hand on Tony’s shoulder that coaxed his eyes open. Cloudy knelt next to him with a glass of water; his expression was caring, sympathetic, and Tony was sure if his face wasn’t red already then it definitely was now, “I know you probably don’t want to, but you need to hydrate.”
Cloudy could have asked him to nuke Russia and he probably would just to make him happy, so Tony carefully took the glass and brought it to his lips. Cloudy’s thumb gently rubbed against his skin, and he could feel his blood rushing beneath it, “I don’t know what your plan was for tonight, but you’re staying here and sleeping this off, okay? You’re in no shape to drive.”
Tony couldn’t argue that, really. He felt like dogshit, and sleep cured most of his problems that alcohol didn't. He’d somehow managed to empty the glass, and Cloudy took it from him gingerly before standing to leave. Tony shamelessly stared at his ass again until his eyes met with Icarus’s in the doorframe, who shook his head and hoisted Tony up to his feet, hands on his waist to steady him. His immediate response was to step back from him, but Tony was still jelly-legged and Icarus had no problem leading, “Ya know, you remind me a lot of me when I first joined FIST. Akuma thought it was hilarious when I tried to outdrink him.”
Down the hall was a spare bedroom that Icarus corralled him into, helping him to sit on the bed but not taking his hands off of him. His touch made Tony’s skin crawl, “It would have been a lot more fun if you got sloppy drunk when Cloudy wasn’t home, ya know.” He punctuated his sentence with a wink, and Tony scowled at him. This dude had no fucking shame.
Thankfully, Icarus removed himself from Tony’s personal space and exited the guest bedroom, and Tony was able to relax. He fell back against the mattress, his head still swimming, and Icarus was only making it worse. He could hear him in the other room, telling Cloudy that he was going to “walk Travis to his car,” and that he “put the little lightweight to bed.” Tony wanted to puke again. He resigned himself to simply crawling up onto the pillows and closing his eyes. Any effort he put into even just thinking right now was exhausting, but there were 100 thoughts bouncing through his brain at 500 MPH. As much as it sucked, he had put himself into this situation, and he had to deal with the consequences. He groaned, loudly, and pathetically punched the pillow beneath him.
“Hey, instead of pulverising the furniture, do you want some Tylenol?” When Tony looked up at Cloudy, the ceiling light above him cast it's glow and made him look angelic, though he was just standing there with more water and a pill bottle. Fuck, to Tony, he looked like the perfect man right now. He gladly took the offer, taking two pills and finishing the glass off with ease this time, “Good job, now get some rest. If I don’t see you in the morning, it was nice to meet you, Tony.”
Now Tony was on cloud 9, full pun intended. It was nice to meet him? Even after ralphing in front of him? Whatever higher power was looking out for him tonight was a real one, for sure, “Yeah, uh, thank you. Was nice to meet you, too.”
The smile that stretched across Cloudy’s face was a good last sight before Tony settled back down on the mattress and closed his eyes. He could still picture it in his head, and his heart fluttered. Cloudy graciously turned off the light in the room and closed the door, leaving Tony to doze off. He grabbed the extra pillow on the bed, hugging it to his chest. A fleeting fantasy of holding Cloudy instead of the pillow took him as he finally drifted off to sleep.