Archive of Our Own

Claudio’s stance betrayed nothing. Back straight, legs stiff, chin up, determined to soldier through this ordeal as he had the previous match. Mox had trained him well. Or Regal. Or whatever special forces kind of bullshit private school spat out people like this. It didn’t really matter. Any other person would be panicking right around now. But who knew with the Swiss. The guy probably had the same reaction to nuclear Armageddon as he had to someone accidentally under-frothing his latte. Fucking weirdo.

Behind him stood Yuta, somewhat shielded by the massive man, despite his tall frame. The young man was just as vicious as Claudio, despite his kicked-puppy-left-out-in-the-rain-look that he had going on right now. And though, the little prince of the Blackpool Combat Club still needed a little more guidance, it was absolutely crystal clear that he’d go places. No doubt about that. He just needed a little more… confidence.

Their eyes met and Eddie winked at him. Oh, this was going to be fun. 

“Well then,” Claudio began, voice calm and collected, betraying absolutely nothing of his (hopefully) inner turmoil, “shall we get this over with, Edward?”

“Oh, are you callin’ the shots now, C?”

He pressed out a laugh, quick and loud, like a gunshot.

“Wasn’t aware that’s how it went nowadays. Y’see back in my day, the guy that lost was real fuckin’ quiet. So how about you shut your mouth and carry my shit.”

He dropped his gear bag to the ground, adjusting his stance to make sure the belts laying on his shoulder hit the light just right. They stared at each other, Claudio’s nostrils flaring, the only outward sign that his words had any effect on him. Oh, he was going to enjoy this. It’s not often a man like Eddie got the chance to break a marble statue. And boy, was he going to chisel away at it until he hit something human. And then some. 

“Wheeler,” Claudio all but hissed, breath ghosting over Eddie’s cheek, “you’re dismissed-”

“The hell he is.”

Claudio moved subtly in front of the kid. Protective almost. So maybe the “Oh we’re so tough, we beat Yuta every day of the week, look how tough we are” was just bullshit posturing for the crowd. 

“This fight is between you and me, Edward.”

“Then why’d I have to fight ‘im to get to you, huh? Nah, C, the kid stays. Just count yourself fuckin’ lucky it’s not Mox.”

Eddie swore he could see Claudio’s jaw tighten, but regrettably the guy was exhibiting some insane levels of self-control. Bummer. Oh well, he’ll break soon enough. He had the entire night after all. 

He motioned to his gear bag (which, yeah, had seen better days, but it did its job just fine), one brow raised, daring the man to object. He didn’t. Just bent down, picked it up, frayed strap and all, then nodded to Yuta to grab his own bag. 

“Nah, nah, nah. The kid ain’t carrying shit. You lost. Come ‘ere, Yoots. You’re with me tonite.”

Yuta, eyes nearly popping out of his skull, swallowed stiffly, then looked from Claudio to Eddie and back. They’d trained the kid well, but it was obvious he hadn’t been to many winner’s rooms. That’s the BCC for ya. Don’t lose. And if you do, you take your punishment quietly and without the help of your stablemates. Fuckin’ hell.

Claudio bit back another sigh, and with his lips pressed into a thin line, held out his hands to take his own bag from the kid. BCC branded, of course. In pristine condition, like everything else about Claudio. The guy was just a freak of nature. Tall, handsome, nice as shit for some reason (or so he heard). A real gentleman. Likeable. The exact opposite of Eddie Kingston. 

He pulled Yuta close, one giant arm around the kid’s shoulder as they both walked ahead of Claudio. The guy still held his head high, like being made to carry his rival’s gear and walking behind his young boy wasn’t the most humiliating thing to him. And it wouldn’t be, tonight. This was just the start, but Jesus Christ, can’t the guy be fucking human for once.

Yuta kept turning around, eyes wide, probably waiting for the other shoe to drop, for Claudio to lose his composure, but Eddie just pulled him along, taking the scenic route through the arena. Making sure every insignificant unpaid intern got a good hard look, that the guy always peacocking around like a Swiss fucking James Bond was carrying his gear for him. Walking behind him. And if Claudio noticed, which he definitely must have, he didn’t show it. 

They stopped in front of an ominous gray door and Yuta instinctively moved to open it, but Eddie just tightened his grip on the younger man. And nodded to Claudio, who squared his shoulders and held the door for them. Hey, he’s got the guy for the next few hours, might as well use him, right? 

He’d thought a lot about what was going to happen should he win their match tonight. He’d put everything on the line and, quite frankly, expected to lose. For the gold to slip through his fingers once again. It was bound to happen, really. His fingers ghosted over his belts slung over his shoulder. Things like this didn’t just fall into the grasp of people like Eddie. And if they did, they didn’t stay there for long. Thanks to that big ass mouth that’d gotten him in trouble far too many times to count. And now it got him Claudio. For one night only. The stars aligned or some shit. 

“Siddown, kid,” Eddie said, not looking at Yuta and just vaguely pointing to the sofa in the corner.

He was too busy eyeing Claudio down, who just stared straight ahead like a good little soldier, still holding their gear bags in an iron grip. Is this how he presented himself for inspection to Dragon and Mox? And to Regal back in the day? Man, the old man might’ve been onto something. Eddie walked around him, taking his sweet time, knowing how much it irked the Swiss when his enemies were out of his eyesight. 

“Drop ‘em.”

Claudio let go of the bags as if they’d burned him. With one foot, Eddie pushed the gear bags towards Yuta, clicking his tongue when the young man moved from his place on the couch to pick them up. He really tried to dig his dirty sole into the pristine black fabric of Claudio’s bag, just to give him a sweet little reminder of this night when he was back at their nice ass hotel, hunched over the bathroom sink scrubbing away to get the last bits of arena-grime off of it. He saw Claudio tighten his fist, just for a second, before relaxing his hand again. Oh. Oh, this was gonna be fun.

“Lose the gear.”

Claudio undressed with damn near soldier-like precision, keeping his back perfectly straight as he loosened his shoelaces and folded his tights into a perfect square. He wasn’t wearing any underwear. What a fucking slut. And yeah, the guy was fucking massive. Well-endowed didn’t even begin to describe it. This guy was trust-fund-crypto-scam-kinda-well-endowed. Just. Thick. And Long. And perfectly velvety smooth. Not a single hair on it. Eddie was well aware chicks didn’t really dig dick pics, but this had got to be the exception to the rule. Claudio must have noticed his silence and met his gaze for the first time since they stepped into this room. One eyebrow slightly raised.

“I trust you’re satisfied, Edward?”

Eddie caught himself just in time and cocked his head to the side, pursing his lips as if he was mulling something over. No point in boosting this guy’s ego anymore than it already was.

“Just thought it was bigger.”

Somewhere behind them, he heard Yuta cough.

“Must be remembering it wrong. Doesn’t matter, s’not like you’re gonna get to use it tonight.”

And with that, the guy went back to staring straight ahead. No nod, no acknowledgement, just. Awaiting orders. Fucking lovely.

Eddie walked over to the couch and all but collapsed next to Yuta, propping his feet on the table in front of him and nearly knocking over the bowl of snacks in the middle of it. And with a long-suffering sigh, he leaned back against the couch cushions and just closed his eyes. Every muscle in his body ached, screaming for him to lie down and never get up again. But he was determined to commit this moment to memory. Claudio, waiting for instructions, his back turned to them, bare ass naked. And it was a nice ass, too. Though he’d never admit it out loud. And better yet, if he was hurting like this, Claudio was no doubt in agony. 

“So like… what happens now?”

Right. The kid.

“I dunno, Yoots. How about a drink, hm?”

His arm immediately shot out to prevent the man from jumping up. Yuta was going to have to unlearn some shit if this was going to work.

“Claudio. Fix us something.”

The man inclined his head, just once to show that he had heard, then walked over to the mini fridge standing in the corner. Say what you want about AEW, they knew how to stack a winner’s room. Back on the indies, you were lucky if you got a bed. Hell, no one is looking forward to fucking someone on a casting couch, most of which have honestly seen better days. And none of which were regularly cleaned. Hell, they even gave him a checklist of toys. He’ll have to get his hands on Claudio’s list if he got the chance, just to see what fucked up things the Swiss had in mind for him.

“Is it still Coke Zero, Edward?”

He turned to Yuta, whose gaze was pointedly locked onto the table in front of him, to not make eye contact with Claudio’s… Surely. Surely they’d fucked before. Eddie leaned in conspiratorially, bumping his shoulders against the kid’s to snap him out of this nervousness.

“See? I’ve trained him well. Haven’t I, C?”

“Yes, Edward.”

And if that wasn’t music to his ears. Hearing Claudio Castagnoli grind out a “Yes, Edward” while he was obeying an order. He’d tried different titles, played them in Claudio’s voice in his head. Sir, Master, Daddy. None of it sounded right. But Edward? In his petulant posh Swiss accent? Now that had a nice ring to it.

“Come on, whatchu want? Khan’s thought of everything. How ‘bout some champagne? Huh? To celebrate my title win? Claudio, pour the kid a glass.”

“Yes, Edward.”

Claudio popped the cork of the mini champagne bottle like a pro. Go figure. Probably spent his youth waiting on other rich white folks at a Michelin star restaurant. Served it like a pro, too. Gripping the champagne flute by the stem when he brought it over, so the stuff didn’t get too warm. Just like he’d seen on that food network documentary when he was out sick with the flu for a few weeks. 

He placed Eddie’s two finger width of ice-cold coke zero poured into a nice crystal glass, no ice, no straw, on a napkin in front of him, then turned to the kid, holding out the glass of champagne to him, one hand placed at the small of his back. He looked like a proper butler. Except naked. Which worked fine for him. 

Yuta took the glass carefully, not meeting Claudio’s eyes and trying not to stare at his cock either, despite it being at eye level. He held onto that champagne flute for dear life, waiting for Claudio to step away from him so he could look up again. Fucking adorable. 

Eddie raised his glass to cheers him, then took a sip, and nodded for Claudio to take his place next to him. And the guy dropped to his knees like he’d been doing it all his life. Hands behind his back, head staring straight ahead. Jesus, maybe he should’ve joined the BCC after all. Still, he was going to have some fun with it.

“Head down.”

“Yes, Edward.”

“Knees a shoulder width apart, Jesus, do I have to teach you every fuckin’ thing?”

For a second, the man looked up at him, perhaps to utter a retort, but Eddie’s hand immediately shot out to deliver an audible slap to the man’s face. One that echoed throughout the room and made Yuta grip his glass a little tighter. God, did it feel good to indulge. 

“No, Edward. Apologies.”

Claudio adjusted his stance, now looking every bit as humble as he should feel. Having lost his title and all. And to Eddie no less. Someone, he’d decidedly judged as “not on his level”. Now that must really sting. He put his shoe in Claudio’s lap, narrowly missing the guy’s cock.

“Unlace ‘em.”

“Yes, Edward.”

His chest was really starting to bruise up now. The skin bright red, even in the dim light of the room. With deft fingers, Claudio got to work, unlacing his boots with near surgical precision. No unnecessary tugging, no roughness, just perfect motion after perfect motion. And Eddie was able to slide out with ease.

“The other boot, too.”

“Yes, Edward.”

Eddie glanced over at Yuta, who was still studying the grain pattern of the wooden table, a soft blush crawling up his neck as the condensation from the cold glass ran down his hand. It made him wonder who bottomed in the BCC. Dragon would probably take Claudio dry just to prove he could. Yuta would try to imitate Bryan. And Mox would simply take him without prep because he liked the feel of it. They’re all a bunch of sickos. But in all of those scenarios, Claudio topped. He’s never seen it, of course. The BCC is very fucking hush-hush about their sex dungeon, thank you very much. But he couldn’t imagine Claudio bottoming. Not when he’s the tallest, biggest guy there. Not when he’s got a cock like that. 

Well. Except for once, that is.

“You ever fuck him?”

Yuta spluttered, having just taken a sip of his champagne, and a bit of bubbly liquid ran down his chin, dripping onto his nice BCC jacket. Eddie snapped his fingers and Claudio shuffled forward, grabbing the napkin from the table and dabbing at Yuta’s face. And for the first time since Claudio got undressed, their eyes met. Both frozen, staring at each other, Claudio’s hand still raised, holding onto that napkin for dear life. Yuta, trying desperately not to stare at his mentor’s cock. 

Eddie snapped his fingers again, breaking their moment, and Claudio moved back into position, head down, knees spread, just this time in front of Yuta. Far too close for comfort if the young man’s nervous posture was anything to go by. Eddie reached out to lift his chin with two fingers, pushing his head up just high enough to be uncomfortable and exposing the lovely length of his neck.  

“Claudio, d’you ever fuck my boy here?”

“No, Edward.”

“You ever blow him?”

Claudio looked over to him, trying to meet Yutas gaze, but promptly lowered his eyes again, when he realized the kid was still just staring at the table.

“Once, Edward.”

“Oh you’ve gotta be fuckin’... Seriously?”

Eddie turned to Yuta, but the kid just nodded solemnly. So what, the Swiss is just the most inconsiderate lover ever behind doors? Eddie grabbed the man’s chin with his whole hand and titled it over for Yuta to inspect. The motion not unsimilar to the way he set his opponents up for a chop. And though he tried to hide it, there was a tiny flinch. A little crack in the shiny armor. And wasn’t that just satisfying to see? 20 chops and a slap later and he finally got the guy to flinch. He cocked his head to the side, looking at Yuta, still clutching his glass.

“You wanna fuck him, Yoots?”

Yuta peered at Claudio-

“Ah, ah, don’t look at him. He’s nothing. He’s just dirt under your shoe right now.”

Oh, and didn’t that just make Claudio’s pulse quicken. Like a jackrabbit caught in a trap. 

“Don’t look at him. He’s a fuckin’ object right now. He’s nothing. Now come on, Yoots, come on, look at me.”

He did. 

“Just answer me. That’s all ya gotta do. Just answer, honestly. Do you want to fuck him?”

He could see him breathe a little heavier, eyes dangerously close to darting over to Claudio several times, but despite all that he kept his eyes locked on Eddie. He obeyed him. That’s good. That’s a good start. Twice the kid swallowed. Once, his mouth nearly formed a word.

“Don’t believe he’d let you?”

Eddie looked back down at Claudio, hand tightening uncomfortably around his chin. Taking his time, readjusting his grip and really digging his nails into the soft skin of his cheek. 

“Open.”

Claudio’s mouth went slack. 

“Look at the kid, C. I’m just gonna check something, a’right?”

Eddie let go of Claudio’s chin and, while they were both staring intently at Yuta, Claudio because he was ordered to and Eddie because he was trying to gauge the kid’s reaction, shoved two fingers down the man’s throat. Until he could feel the hard, wet heat of Claudio’s throat muscles contract around his digits. Until he could feel the man choke. But not hear him. Because God forbid, Claudio reacted like an actual flesh and blood human. Nah. Still actin’ tough.

“Still got that gag reflex under control, huh? Hey kid, you wanna feel him? Come on, lemme see those cute little fingers.”

Yuta, almost purely on instinct, showed Eddie his right hand. Eyes still locked on Claudio’s wide open mouth, taking Eddie thick fingers like a champ. No tears, no gasps for air, no nothing. Then Claudio dared to take a breath. And the fingers slid a little deeper down the man’s throat, stayed there for a second, until the throat closed down on them, until he could see actual, God honest tears spring to Claudio’s eyes, then retracted. Eddie looked at his fingers, wet with Claudio’s spit, and wiped them off on the guy’s broad, perfectly chiseled, bright red chest in disgust. Then, with a saint-like patience, he guided 2 of Yuta’s fingers down into the warm open throat.

“You feel that? Feel his throat tighten? Say what you want about the Swiss, but he sucks a cock like nothing else. Come on, dig a little deeper, see if ya can make him choke.”

“I-I… “ 

Yuta seemed unsure still and when Eddie looked down he could see the Swiss blink twice, reassuringly. He yanked Yuta’s fingers out and grabbed Claudio by the chin again, this time really digging his blunt nails into the sensitive cheek, nearly drawing blood. Nearly, but not quite. Fuck him, for getting a manicure right?

“You still think you callin’ the shots here, Swiss? You sure about that?”

He slapped him hard.

“Wheeler-”, Claudio began, probably trying to reason with him to get the kid to leave.

He slapped him again. Harder this time. A bright red handprint coloring the man’s cheek, which somehow made the fucker look even more handsome. Like one of those renaissance paintings with the pale faces and the bright flush on those apple cheeks. It’s just not fucking fair.

“Rule number one, you’re gonna address the kid with a little bitta respect. I know you like to throw your weight around a little, I geddid, I do, but you ain’t got nothing to throw around here, C. You’re nothing. Nothing.”

He punctuated his words with a slap to the other cheek. Just to balance things out, you know. And Claudio went back into position, like he’d blown a fucking whistle at a well-trained dog. Hands behind his back, head lowered. It’d be hot if the guy wasn’t such a pain in his ass.

“Rule number two, you're gonna do what I tell ya to do. Otherwise, we’re gonna be here all night. And I do have better places to be, than dealing with your fugly mug, just so you know.”

“And rule number fucking three. No safewords. No pussying out. No calling your fuckin’ entourage. No Danielson, no Mox, no… well he’s not gonna answer the phone now, is he? He betrayed ya. Funny how life goes.”

He chuckled to himself. Wasn’t nice to see Mox and the kid betrayed. But that was a relatively small price to pay to see Danielson and Claudio get what they fucking deserved. 

“Point is. You’re gonna take what we give you. And then the two of us are fucking done.”

He looked at him, one knuckle lifting the guys chin up, though the Swiss was still petulantly glaring at the floor. He hummed, thumb ghosting over the other man’s cheek, a small tear soaking into his skin. Or maybe it was sweat. He lifted his thumb to his lips and licked the tear off it. Yea, definitely not sweat. 

Their eyes met, Claudio’s slightly red rimmed, Eddie’s half lidded, both exhausted beyond comprehension. He leaned in closer, so Yuta wouldn’t hear. Not to preserve Claudio’s dignity, mind you, more to preserve his own. 

“Last chance to back out now, Swiss,” he whispered, breath ghosting over Claudio’s ear and he could see some goosebumps forming on the sweaty skin. “I’m giving you one last chance to run back to your Blackpool combat cult and have them deal with ya. They’re gonna be a whole lot nicer than me.”

Claudio looked at him, like someone would look at a small child who’d deeply misjudged the severity of something. That one. That one right there was exactly the reason he hated him. This fuckin’… This arrogance. Like Eddie didn’t know anything. It made him want to rip this guy a new one. 

“No.”

He didn’t know what the dude was saying no to. Leaving or the fact that a punishment at Danielson’s hands would be gentler. Regal had shaped that man into a vicious little thing. No prisoners and no mercy, all that old school bullshit. Failing your teammates was tantamount to a betrayal and losing a belt, well… Let’s just say Danielson was probably hunkered down in their hotel room jotting down notes, watching old ECW tapes and putting together a Pinterest board filled with colorful inspiration. 

In the end, it didn’t matter. So what if he considered Eddie the lesser of the two evils? So what if he was once again somehow lesser than Dragon? And by doing what? Going easy on him? Is that what Claudio thought he was gonna do? Go easy on him? He wanted to be kind. To give him a way out. To give himself a way out. To not allow himself to slip further into that dark, dark place where he went when he needed to make someone hurt. 

So he gave the guy one curt nod, then dropped his hand from the other man’s chin, and Claudio slipped right back into position. Resigned, but otherwise calm. He’d change that soon enough. 

“Alright, why don’t you start by warming Yuta’s cock, hm?”

“W-What? Eddie… you can’t make him… We’ve only-”

Yuta pressed himself into the cushions as Claudio shuffled forward, though when he reached out to open the young man’s fly, Eddie clicked his tongue. 

“Ah-ah, no hands. And how about we ask for permission first, huh? Jesus, did Danielson teach you nothin’?”

Claudio bit his lip and forced his hands back behind his back, re-gripping his elbows tightly. There it was again. That petulance. How could this guy have the air of an aristocrat and the spirit of a small toddler?

“Go ahead, C. Ask’im. Be good. For once in your fuckin’ life.”

The guy had the audacity to close his eyes and exhale, as if he was asking him to wrestle 5 nights in a row without pay and not show his young boy a little dignity.

“May I,” he pressed out, with barely concealed discomfort, “suck your cock, Wheeler.”

He slapped him once, right across the face. Not as hard as his previous slaps, not nearly as hard as his usual in-ring ones, just hard enough to be a little reminder. 

“Nah, C. You gotta do a lot better than that.”

Claudio adjusted his stance, jaw tightening uncomfortably.

“May I… please… suck your cock, Wheeler.”

He hit him again, this time it was a chop right to his still red chest and Claudio grunted, as his palm collided with the bruised flesh, hunching over a little to mitigate the pain. And for good measure, Eddie poked him with his finger, when he unhunched himself. Right where the skin had split. Must’ve hurt, just based on the little grunt Claudio let out. And the way his pupils dilated a little bit, when a droplet of blood dribbled out of the wound and seeped into Eddie’s manicured nails. 

“That’s twice you referred to him by his first name, C. That ain’t your young boy no more. Now get it fucking right, or the next one is gonna land a lot lower.”

Claudio swallowed stiffly, licking over his teeth like he was trying to get a bad taste out of his mouth. Then he glanced at Yuta, just for a second, before his gaze dropped to his shoes. Eddie wanted to make him lick them and just watch as this posh fucking bastard really dug his tongue into Yuta’s old sneakers. Not even in a sexual way. Just simply because he could. And the fact that he could make him do that was a high like no other. 

“May I please suck your cock, Sir.”

And if that wasn’t music to his ears. He had half a mind to make him say it again. Fuck he should’ve recorded it. Oh, well. Eddie glanced at Yuta, whose soft brown doe-eyes were completely drowned out by his black pupils. He kept swallowing and wetting his lips, sweaty hands digging into his sweatpants in order to keep his hands to himself. 

“Go ahead, Yoots. Claudio, get.”

“Yes, Edward.”

Claudio inched forward, situating himself right between Yuta’s knees, which looked a little absurd. Someone tall and broad like Claudio kneeling between the legs of someone he could pummel into the ground if given the order. Maybe they should do this more often. Maybe he should snap a pic for Moxy. 

Every movement careful and precise, Claudio pulled Yuta’s sweatpants down, then put his hands behind his back again and took the half-hard cock into his mouth. With his eyes open, he stared at the kid’s stomach, probably sulking. Like a kid sent to stand in a corner after throwing a tantrum. Eddie found himself wondering if he should have him stand in a corner for a few hours. Bare ass naked. He wondered if he could leave him there overnight for the cleaning crew to find. 

The kid managed to drag his gaze from Claudio to stare at Eddie, probably waiting for him to reveal that this was all a prank and Claudio was in on it the entire time. 

“Come on, kid. Give him an order, tell him what to do. Hell, might as well use ‘im. I sure as fuck won’t.”

“W-what? Why?”

“This ain’t about that, Yoots. This whole thing,” he gestured in the general direction of the ring outside their door, “wasn’t about… respect. I couldn’t give less of a fuck if this asshole respected me.”

He kicked Claudio a little and grinned as the guy shot him a scathing look before continuing to stare daggers at Yuta’s belly button. If looks could kill… Well, he would’ve died a lot sooner. A lot sooner. Preschool, probably. 

“Respect is a two-way street. Besides. I don’t fuck people I don’t respect, and you clearly don’t get enough action anyways.”

Eddie sighed, took the belt that he’d left on the table next to the couch, and draped it across Yuta’s waist. 

“Might as well give him something to stare at,” he murmured, then grabbed his phone from his bag and started scrolling his socials. 

People were hyped for him. That’s good. People were even more hyped that Claudio lost. That’s even better. He looked back at the action in front of him. Or rather, the lack of action. Fucking hell.

“Claudio, look at the belt ya just lost. Take a good hard look at it. And start blowing the kid, proper. We both know you can.”

Claudio’s eyes moved to the ROH Men’s World Championship and slowly, painfully slowly, started to suck. Lips gliding over the velvety skin of Yuta’s cock, taking it deeper and deeper into his throat and swallowing around it. Yuta on the other hand. Bit his lip and took it silently. Probably Danielson’s training. 

“There ya go. That’s a good. Fucking. Boy. Is that what you wanna hear, huh? C? You need me to tell you that you’re doing a good job? Well, you’re fucking not.”

Eddie leaned down to his level, and Claudio’s eyes moved from the belt to him. His jaw tightened around Yuta’s cock and his eyes were wide awake and aware. Not half-lidded, nowhere near subspace. Just. Aware. And plotting his fucking revenge, probably. 

“See?” 

Yeah, that was not gonna happen. Eddie laughed, shaking his head and gesturing to the belt. Then he looked at Yuta, still biting his lip and sitting ramrod straight. Damn, the kid had to learn to relax at some point. 

“What’d I tell ya? Fucking useless. Can’t do the simplest thing. I tell him to look at the belt. He looks at me. I tell him to show his young boy some respect. It takes him three fuckin’ tries to get it right. I tell him to suck your cock, and he can’t even make ya moan,” Eddie shook his head and leaned back, staring at his phone and pretending to scroll. “D’you get now why I don’t want him anywhere near my dick? Been there, done that. Not worth my fucking time.”

The room was quiet for a while, the silence only interrupted by Yuta’s sharp intakes of breath. And then there was some shuffling. Skin on skin. And soft little grunts that slowly turned to deep hums. But Eddie was not going to dignify that with a look. Absolutely not. 

“Either suck his cock like you mean it, or I’m booking my Uber out of here and calling Danielson. And you bet your ass, I’ll be getting a front row seat to that fucking show.”

And then suddenly he could hear Claudio actively trying. Humming and audibly swallowing down the cock in his mouth. Adding spit, opening his mouth wider and gasping. Fucking gasping! God, he was really laying it on thick now. 

And then he heard the guy gag. Gurgle and gag. Like the hunks in those pornos from the 80s. What on earth- He looked from his Twitter feed to Yuta. Who had pressed his eyes closed, hands holding onto his shivering legs. He was shaking so hard, the championship belt he’d put on him nearly vibrated off of him. It was sitting significantly lower now, held in place nearly exclusively by Claudio’s glare. 

“Good job, C,” he drawled mockingly. “Still not hearing the kid moan, though. Come ‘ere, Yoots.” 

He patted his shoulder and the kid, without opening his eyes, slid over to him instinctually knowing where he was, leaning his warm body against his broad chest and relaxing immediately. Claudio shuffled over with him, trying to keep the younger man’s cock in his mouth, to no avail, as Eddie pressed his heel against the guy’s bruised chest, kicking him away. 

“There we go, that’s a good boy.” Eddie whispered into Yuta’s ear, pushing the belt to the side and dragging his hand over the young man’s body.

“That’s my good boy. My good bun.”

His hand slid lower, mouth nibbling on the younger man’s ear, while he stared at Claudio, who was kneeling in front of them, perfectly poised and probably expecting some sort of acknowledgement. Or an order. 

Instead, Eddie brushed over Yuta’s leg, taking his sweet time. Watching the young man shiver under his touch as he scratched softly along the inside of his thigh, working his way closer to his cock, but not quite committing yet. He wanted to really rile him up, to watch him come undone in his arms. And finally when he closed his hand around the young man’s cock, wet with Claudio’s spit, and started to stroke he felt the man spasm in his grasp. And damn if it wasn’t incredible for his ego to have a young guy grind down on him as he dragged his thumb over the head. His other arm snuck around, holding him tightly against his chest as he bit down on the guy’s neck. Sucking the skin into his mouth, occasionally digging his teeth into the thin flesh, until he was sure it would bruise, as Yuta strained against his grip. Desperate for him to stop. Desperate for more. And there it was. A tiny, high-pitched moan. 

“That wasn’t so hard now, was it, Yoots?” He whispered against the soaking wet neck, kissing the bruise he’d just created. “My good boy. Ay, C, how long did that take me, huh? Ten seconds?”

“Twenty, Edward.”

He moved back up and leaned in a little closer, tugging at the young man’s earlobe with his teeth. Stroking him softly.

“You wanna fuck him now? You did so good, Yoots. Such a good boy for me. You wanna fuck Claudio, hm? Just say the words, I’ll tie him down if I have to. I’ll hold him open for you. I’ll gag him, blindfold him, push his head into the pillows so he can’t even hear the noises you make. Just a toy. Just a thing for you. You deserve it. Mmh, you’re so good, Yuta, so good for me.”

Yuta nodded his head, head lolling from side to side. Trying to escape Eddie’s words, his touch, or the fact that Claudio was still kneeling between his legs, mouth open and breath ghosting over the red, overstimulated head. Oh, he must want that back down his throat so bad. Must be desperate to show that he could make him make those noises. 

“Let’s lie down, hm? Let’s get you to bed.”

He dragged Yuta up with him, holding him tightly, and deposited the sweaty mess of a man onto the soft sheets. He brushed a hand over the man’s forehead, eyes distant and pupils blown. 

“Good boy, Yoots. So prouda ya.”

He snapped his fingers and Claudio rushed to his side, hands clasped behind his back, the very picture of obedience. He could get used to that. Having a man like Claudio at his beck and call. Tall and imposing until he gave a command. Having someone turn from a hound of hell into a small submissive puppy, baring his throat for any amount of approval. Just a shame it was Claudio. 

He grabbed the guy by the back of the neck, pulling him down to his level. His manicured nails dug into the soft skin, keeping him right where he wanted him, so he could lean up close, lips nearly touching the other man’s ear.

“I’m gonna prep ya, not because you deserve it, but because the kid’s suffered enough today. And that abysmal fuckin‘ blowjob y’gave him sure as hell wasn’t gonna help.”

He pushed him down. 

“Elbows on the bed, legs straight.”

“Yes, Edward.”

“Make yourself useful while you’re down there. Keep his dick hard, kid’s a little out of it at the moment.” 

He grabbed some lube and a few latex gloves. Normally he wasn’t squeamish, but this was the Swiss. He wasn’t gonna touch him more than necessary, and he needed the guy to know that. To feel that. He wasn’t worthy of his touch. This was just business.

He haphazardly put some lube onto his latex-covered fingers and without warning shoved one inside the bent over body in front of him. He could feel the tight heat of Claudio’s heat close around his fingers immediately. And he was sure the cold burn of the sudden intrusion was excruciating. Claudio hissed, taking in a shuddering breath and immediately tensing up. 

“Shuddup. We both know this ain’t your first time.”

He put a warm, ungloved hand on the small of the large man’s back and painfully slowly pushed in his second finger, scissoring him open clinically. This was nothing to him. Nothing. Claudio tensed up further, the muscles in his back spasming under his warm hand as he tried to keep his body in the position Eddie had ordered him to hold. He leaned in a little closer, one leg between Claudio’s slightly spread ones, and he could see beads of cold sweat running down the man’s spine

“Fuckin’ relax.”

“Yes, Edward.”

“Focus on the kid.”

“Y-Yes, Edward.”

And Claudio went back to peppering Yuta’s still hard cock with tiny kisses, periodically breathing heavy, when Eddie adjusted his stance or pushed his finger deeper into him. Sometimes he even managed to make the guy whimper. Should’ve asked for a camera. Should’ve recorded this entire thing. 

But oh well. He shoved his fingers deeper, eliciting another sharp whimper from the man. He was nearly inside him down to his knuckles. Hot, tight and wet, just begging to be fucked, and Eddie knew he’d feel absolutely glorious sliding down a cock. Provided he knew how to keep his mouth shut. 

“D’you need a third one, or are you fine with two?”

“I-I’m alright-”

Eddie slapped Claudio’s ass quick and hard, jerking the fingers inside him just that little bit deeper and causing the man to nearly bite his own lip bloody. Eddie smacked him on the back of the head for good measure. 

“Talking to Yoots, you fucking idiot. D’you really need another reminder? You don’t get an opinion. You’re nothing, C. You’re just a fuckin’ body. Just a warm body that’s not even good enough for me to fuck. You should be grateful I’m even prepping you. You should be on your knees thanking your lucky fucking stars, I’m a standup guy. Now fuckin’ apologize to the kid.”

He could see Claudio hesitantly look up from where he’d buried his head in the crook of his elbow while Eddie berated him. 

“Apologies.”

A second passed, and Eddie contemplated just shoving his entire fist up there to teach the guy some manners. And maybe check for a brain. 

“Sir!” Claudio yelled suddenly. “Forgive me. Sir. P-Please! Ah!”

Then he went back to breathing heavily onto Yuta’s cock. Eyes wide and wet, alternating between giving the cockhead kitten licks or kissing down the shaft with trembling lips.

“Come on, Yoots. One more finger? Yes or no? Want me to leave him nice and tight for you?”

“O-one… uh… One more. Please. Let me- ah, Claudio- please.”

“Tell ‘im what you want, kid. He’s here for you. Aren’t you, C?”

He wiggled his fingers around, feeling for one particular spot-

“Yessir-ah, please. Nur für dich-ah, bitte-”

Found the little fucker.

Yuta lifted his hand to guide a shaking Claudio back onto his cock. His fingers, stroking softly across the tear-streaked cheeks as the man took him deeper and deeper into his mouth.

“Just- Stay. Please. Like that.”

“Good boy, Yuta. Good boy for telling him what you want. One more? Alright. You get one more.”

He pulled his fingers halfway out of the tight hole to squirt some more lube onto his hand before quickly shoving all three into Claudio. And immediately felt him clench around his fingers. Tighter than he had before. Damn near cutting off his circulation. 

“How do you want him, huh, Yoots? Want him to ride you? Want to fuck him into the mattress?”

Yuta was still caressing Claudio’s face, humming softly. The man had relaxed considerably under Yuta’s ministrations, and for a second there was a slightly uncomfortable sensation bubbling up inside Eddie. Something that told him it should’ve been his hand, Claudio was relaxing under. It should’ve been his hand, the guy leaned into for comfort. But he swallowed it down. Nah. He must’ve hit his head pretty hard in the ring. 

“Done,” he said, pulling his fingers out, discarding the glove and slapping Claudio’s right cheek to tell him to get back up. “Straddle him.”

Claudio jumped at the soft slap, at this point clearly expecting to be handled much more roughly, and dropped Yuta’s cock from his mouth. His lips were ruby red, matching his flushed face, and he was gasping for breath, nearly drooling onto Yut’s lap. Shivering, he crawled onto the bed, the wooden frame straining under his considerable weight. He knelt, Yuta’s smaller body between his thick thighs, and slowly lowered himself onto the hard cock beneath him. Holding it in place with one hand and leaning onto the other, braced against the mattress, for support. 

Yuta didn’t have Claudio’s length, well no one on this roster had, but his cock was thick and Claudio was feeling every single millimeter of that girth as the head pushed against his entrance. The man bit his lip, didn’t look at Yuta, didn’t dare look at Eddie and, with a considerable amount of self-control, forced the head inside. 

Eddie considered sitting down on the couch again, to lazily watch Claudio fuck himself on his young boy’s cock or better yet, to take out his phone to scroll Twitter, just to add insult to injury. That’s what he was here for, right? Showing the Swiss bastard he didn’t care? And yet, he couldn’t pull his gaze from the spectacle in front of him. Couldn’t drag his eyes from Claudio’s tense form as he forced Yuta’s cock deeper and deeper into his barely prepped hole. 

He wondered what hurt more. Taking a cock like that or reducing himself to an object for his young boy’s pleasure. Or maybe it was the humiliation of it all. Training with the kid and knowing he’d never again look at him with the same amount of respect. He’d look at him and remember how he’d debased himself. He’d look at his naked chest and remember how his stomach clenched as he fucked himself onto the kid’s cock. He’d look at his lips and remember how he’d called him “Sir” while Eddie fingered him open. 

“Hands, Claudio.” 

He clicked his tongue lazily, but the man flinched like he’d been hit and quickly grasped his elbows behind his back. Then, nearly fell over as he tried to find his balance again. Eddie put his hand on the man’s bright red chest to stabilize him. Clearly. Just so he didn’t ruin the moment by crushing his young boy. 

His hand moved down the muscular torso, gliding down those washboard abs, and finally closed around Claudio’s cock. It looked even more massive now that it was in his hand. He handled it carefully, noticing how the man tensed up immediately under his touch. Probably thought the gentleness was intended to lull him into a fall sense of security. Which wasn’t a bad idea. Get him nice and relaxed and then slap him where it hurts. Maybe. Next time. Though there probably won't be a next time.

He lifted his hand to the man’s mouth.

“Spit.”

Claudio hesitated, eyes moving up to meet his. He even stopped fucking himself, which the kid requited with a low grumble, head lolling forward to shoot them a confused glare. Probably wondering why his Swiss sex toy abruptly stopped working. Yoots was getting demanding. Good. 

Eddie snapped his fingers and Claudio flinched, gasped when that flinch nudged the cock just a little bit deeper, but then got right back to ducking his head, spitting into Eddie’s offered hand and picking up his movements again. The guy had probably never even spat on the ground before, what with how hesitantly he did it. They probably caned you for that back in that posh private school he attended in Switzerland. Now that he thought about it… not a bad idea.

Yuta, meanwhile, was back to softly whimpering. His hands clasped Claudio’s massive thighs tightly, helping his movements along as best he could. What with Claudio being absolutely massive. None-too-gently those hands moved up, digging their nails into the man’s waist instead, grasping his butt, like he’d just realized that he could touch. He was allowed to grab and scratch and hold every single part of this man. He would’ve dug his teeth into his neck and used him as a chew toy if the position (and Eddie) allowed it. Hell, he’d very obviously been crushing on the guy for quite a while now. Heart-eyeing him from the sidelines and shivering with joy whenever they did their weird little crab dance. Yuta wanted this guy. And there was only so much pining Eddie could take.

With a now spit wet hand, Eddie began to stroke down the warm, velvety skin, brushing over the head, tightening his fingers right under the cockhead and using Claudio’s momentum to have him fuck himself into his hand. Those little gasps that he’d tried to hide, whenever he managed to get Yuta’s cock to hit that spot just right, turned into breathy moans. His back shivered with barely contained excitement, ramrod straight spine relaxing a little and hips rolling with every bounce. And if that fucker didn’t take extra care to arch his back, grinding down on the body below him. He knew exactly what he was doing.

“Real cute, C,” Claudio’s hips stalled suddenly, “Nonono, don’t stop on my account now. You wanna act like the slut I know you are, you can, I don’t mind. S’just that… y’know… you’re not gonna cum tonight.”

He shot him a grin, relishing the moment his words registered in the man’s hazy, fucked-out mind. And as Claudio’s expression fell, he just continued moving his hand, faster and faster, the wet squelch sounding obscene in the otherwise silent room. 

“Ah,” Claudio whined, voice high-pitched and desperate. “Please. Edward. P-Please. It’s been so long.”

His eyes were half-lidded, pupils blown wide, a slight sheen of sweat covering his entire body. He was trembling too, soft little shivers running through him as his muscles spasmed from exhaustion. God, he wanted to encase him in a layer of latex, cover him from head to toe, then bind each limb into position and keep him displayed like that. Take him home, lock him in his basement and just. Keep him there. Just for himself. No one else deserved to see him like that. Not Mox, not Danielson, no one. Not even Yuta. 

With growing horror, he realized how beautiful this man was. How beautiful his body was, how nicely he blushed when he was fucking himself on Yuta’s cock, how expressive his eyes were, even as he tried to mask how much Eddie’s words affected him. He wanted to put a hood on him, to never have to look at that face again. To never have to face his own weakness for this man. Feelings he’d had hidden away for over a decade, feelings he’d hidden from for over a decade. Now suddenly exposed like a nerve. And it hurt.

He dragged himself away from him, and Claudio whined again at the loss of the hand on his cock. Eddie meanwhile just swallowed thickly and grabbed his little bundle of requested toys from a box under the bed. The bad dragon had been a joke, one that didn’t seem quite so funny anymore, after his sudden revelation. He took out the blindfold, a relatively vanilla request, one that he almost hadn’t made because it was just so… predictable. He slipped it over Claudio’s eyes anyway, jaw tightening as the man took another hissing breath in between moans. But nonetheless, his hands remained obediently behind his back. 

“Tell me,” Yuta whimpered, hands tightening on Claudio’s thighs.. “Tell me when you last… ngh… came, Claudio. Tell me.”

Claudio let out a pitiful whine. 

“Bitte, lass mich… ah… Bitte. A month, Sir, please, It’s been over a month. Not since. Not since beating Nemeth in August. Please-”

He was damn near crying now. Fuck. August? Claudio hadn’t been allowed to cum in over a month? Must’ve been a reward for beating that guy in just over a minute. And a reward indeed. He hadn’t noticed he’d been staring at Yuta, mouth gaping in shock.

“Keeps him, ngh, focused. Keeps him in line. Cock’s too big anyways-ah fuck-” 

He sounded like he was parroting words he’d heard the others use. This absolutely reeked of Danielson. Bet they didn’t even make it good for him. Bet they’d just let him hump one of their legs for stimulation. Fuck, this was not going the way he’d hoped. And now he was rock hard too. Yuta’s grip on the guy’s leg turned bruising, the tips of his fingers white from the pressure, and his hips jutted upwards desperately trying to fuck into Claudio. And there it was. 

With a moan, he came, spilling into Claudio and enjoying every second of it. His grip relaxed, head rolling back into the pillow, exhausted but clear-headed. 

Eddie helped Claudio off of him, depositing him on the bed next to Yuta, leaking cum, blindfold still on, hands still clasped behind his back as if he’d cuffed them together. Either hoping, praying Yuta changed his mind, though he doubted the kid had that much pull in the BCC, or waiting for Eddie to dismiss him. 

The man was breathing heavily into the pillows, trying to calm himself down enough to stand. If he could. What with all that blood still exclusively flowing to his cock. Eddie meanwhile helped Yuta dress and sent him on his way, but not after Yuta sent Claudio a fearful glance. He walked back over to the bed and pressed a soft kiss to the bald head, pulling back when Claudio whimpered.

And then they were alone. 

Eddie dragged himself to the bed, legs nearly collapsing under him from exhaustion. He didn’t even want to know what Claudio must feel like. 

“Hands, C.”

Claudio unclasped his hands from behind his back and held them out, wincing softly when his shoulders disagreed with the movement. Must hurt. Oh, well. Eddie tightened the pair of handcuffs he’d brought from home around the extended wrist, cuffing him to the bed frame. Then did the same with the other, this one from his neat pile of ordered sex toys. Claudio adjusted his position, pulling on his binds to check how durable the handcuffs were, the fucking bastard, but he didn’t have much wiggle room. 

Eddie dragged a finger up the man’s length, grateful Claudio wasn’t able to see the look in his eyes. He’d never hear the end of it. The man shuddered under his touch, and wasn’t that exhilarating?

“P-Please, Edward. I can’t-”

“Why don’t they let you come, hm? Big guy like you? Can’t find someone for a quick fuck in a broom closet?”

Claudio swallowed audibly.

“I-It keeps me focused. It keeps me… in line. It keeps me controlled.”

Eddie hummed, weighing the massive, still hard cock in his hand.

“Sounds like Danielson. Can’t imagine they trust you to remain, ah, what’s the word… Right, chaste. So like… do they lock you up? Like a proper princeling. Cock cage ‘n everything?” His tone turned mocking, hand closing tightly around the shaft. “Aw, did they let you out of your cage for me? That’s nice, real nice. Ey, remind me to thank Danielson for dat. Woulda been a whole less fun with you all broody and locked up. Or would it? I dunno.”

“Edward. Please-”

“S’that why you’re always hangin’ ‘round Yuta? Not to keep him in line, nah, it’s the other way around, huh? Oh now it all makes sense. He’s there to protect your honor, huh. Or what’s left of it. Wow. Might have to try this again.”

He felt Claudio shudder just as a dribble of cum leaked out of him onto the nice bedsheets, and his cock twitches so hard it hurts. Oh, they will definitely have to do this again. He pulled his gear off of him, almost pealing the stretchy fabric where it was stuck to his skin and discarding it in a corner. He’ll have Claudio fold that later. Usually this was the part where he’d get self-conscious about his body, where he’d get cold feet and send people away, rather than fuck them. But Claudio was still blindfolded. And tied down. Thank fuck. 

“Tell ya what,” he quipped. “You wanna cum?” 

Claudio nodded so fast he feared the black satin might slip off of his face. Straining against the metal cuffs, using what’s left of his energy to buck his hips into the air, searching for Eddie’s hand… or for any kind of friction. He looked pathetic. A whining mess of a man. Just how he liked him. The Swiss Superman reduced to this. He wouldn’t have it any other way. In fact. He grabbed his phone, previously laying discarded on the couch, and snapped a pic. And another one. And another one. Gotta get all the angles after all. He switched to video mode, leaning over him. His knee nestled in between the guy’s legs.

“I asked you a question,” he snapped, slapping the blindfolded man so hard his head hit the pillow and the mattress below with a dull thud, then grabbing his chin and making him face him again. 

Something nudged against his leg and he couldn’t be sure, but he was almost certain he saw and felt the guy’s dick throb.

“Yessir, God, please Edward. Bitte, lass mich- Please let me- I can’t take it anymore. It’s been so long. Anything. I’ll do anything. Just let me- Your hand, please, just a minute. Bitte. Edward.”

Edward chuckled to himself, saving the video to the Claudio folder he’d just created. For later. For safekeeping. But Claudio completely deflated, all but screaming into his pillow, probably convinced Eddie was just playing with him. Which. Yes, he was. In a way.

“You wanna cum, you cum on my dick. Hands-free. That sound doable?”

Claudio was quick to nod, pressing out a “Yes Edward” before Eddie had even finished speaking. Rude. But the guy was so close, if he slapped him again, he might actually come from that. Which would be entertaining, but by God if this whole ordeal hadn’t made Eddie harder than he ever thought possible. He wanted to call Danielson in here, make him watch, he wanted the whole world to see. And at the same time, he wanted Claudio all to himself.

He set up his phone on the nightstand facing Claudio’s side profile, praying he was able to catch the exact moment the guy came on his dick. And boy, was he going to screenshot that and tape it to his fridge.

He lifted Claudio’s legs onto his shoulders, nudging another pillow under his back, and slid. Right. In. God the man was tight fit. Walls slick with Yuta’s cum, fucked out, but still tight around him and hot. God he was hot. The ring of muscle a vice-like grip pulling him in and straining when he pulled out again, only to fuck back in deeper and harder than before, damn near knocking the air out of Claudio. He had the man gasping for breath, clenching his fists in his restraints, turning his head from side to side and in an effort to deal with the overstimulation of being fucked again so soon after being taken to the edge. And then denied. 

“Tell me when you’re close.”

“Please- No games, bitte, ich kann nicht mehr, bitte, fuck please. Eddie, please.”

“Harder? Faster? Come on, baby.”

“I’m close, I’m so fucking close, don’t stop, please don’t stop. Pleas-ah.”

An especially deep thrust interrupted his ramblings, and Eddie used that as a momentary distraction to pull the blindfold off of him and close his hand around Claudio’s marble-hard cock bouncing in between their sweaty bodies, leaking precome all over Eddie’s stomach. He managed exactly one stroke before Claudio came with a violent shout, tears in his eyes, body convulsing until his eyes locked onto him. Mouth wide open mid-moan, pupils blown, gorgeous eyes staring straight at Eddie. There was so much emotion in that gaze, but-

“Thank you,” Claudio whispered breathlessly.

And Eddie came. Eyes rolling back, cock nestled deep somewhere in Claudio’s guts, pumping him full of a second load. And then collapsing on top of him, cock still nudged inside. He was laying on the man’s muscled chest, which for once did not make him feel self-conscious about his own body. Hell he was too fucked out to think about that, when suddenly, he felt Claudio’s muscles in his arms strain. Jesus, couldn’t the guy just remain fucking calm? 

“I’ll untie you in a bit, Jesus, fuck, let a brother rest. I’m not in my twenties anymore.”

He felt around for the key on the nightstand, knocking over his phone in the process, and unlocked the handcuffs. With a great huff he moved to roll over, to let the guy up, but ever so gently, Claudio’s arms closed around him, holding him tightly to the muscled chest. Fuck. A hug. Great.

“Hey, C, you good?”

“Never better, Edward.”

“Right.”

They just stayed like that. Claudio’s big tree trunks wrapped around him. He could hear the man’s heartbeat, cheek pressed to the perfectly curved pec. 

“So that’s it then, huh?”

Claudio hummed, one hand softly caressing Eddie’s bicep. 

“Feud over.”

Next week Claudio fights in a three-way for a chance to challenge for the AEW International title. 

He loses.