To The Stars - 8. May, 2018

Friday, May 11th

He caught the eyes of the boy who was already walking towards him. It seemed natural to notice him right away. The narrow brown eyes were beautiful, especially when he smiled and they lit up as though the sun itself shone through them. His teeth were slightly crooked, but somehow it only served as an enhancement. His purple tee and faded denim shorts came off the children's rack at the bargain clothes shop, and his black flipflops were old and well worn. Somehow, just being Sean made his outfit look like it cost a million dollars. Whether his long, dark hair was cascading down his shoulders, resting in a messy bun or elaborately decorated with beads and feathers, he looked like the most gorgeous person Diego had ever laid eyes on. When he thought of Sean, he smiled. When he got a text from Sean, he beamed. When he saw the young man in the flesh though, he felt as though there was nothing that could ever bring him down. He was... so perfect.

"What are you doing here?" Diego asked, dragging his luggage from the walkway to meet his friend in the lobby. Sean immediately hugged him, and Diego squeezed the smaller body around him. He smelled like cinnamon and he was warm to the touch. He was always strangely warm.

"I was waiting for you!" Sean dragged Diego by the hand to sit with him on the bench against the wall, and Diego noticed Sean's travel bag.

"Wait, you've been here?" Diego frowned. "How long?"

"Oh, two hours maybe?" Sean shrugged and crossed his legs on the seat. "I've just been watching David Attenborough on my phone."

"Two hours? You know, that's a lot of time to waste," Diego was nearly appalled. "You could have done a whole workout or even just watched David Attenborough at the hotel instead of this place!"

"Wow, I'm sorry I wanted to see you," Sean replied curtly with a frown.

"You could have gone to the hotel first!" Diego laughed and was promptly embarrassed by the noise it made. "But thanks! After sitting next to the world's sweatiest woman with the world's most irritable bowels for a couple of hours, you turned it into a good day!"

"I didn't need to know all of that," Sean screwed up his face. "But it's good to see you too! I missed you."

"Yeah, something about waiting here for two hours gave me that idea," Diego teased, and Sean flipped him off. "I missed you too. You didn't bring Ollie this time?"

"No. Flights are expensive, you know?" Sean sighed, and his shoulders slumped. "But he'll be cleared any day now, and he'll be back at work and that's pretty exciting!"

Yeah, exciting, Diego thought sadly. He had grown fond of Oliver Vickery in the past six months. He was a lovable, bright man with a wicked sense of humour and a huge heart. There was very little not to love about him - except perhaps that Sean belonged to him. They were committed and they were happy for nearly as long as he and Rachel had been. Except much happier. Sean and Diego had grown very close since Ollie's injury kept him from in-ring competition, and thus the one-legged man couldn't afford to fly out with the locker room more than once a month. When Ollie returns, Sean will no doubt want to spend all his time with his boyfriend again. It sucked.

"If you want Ollie to come along, you know I'd buy him the ticket," Diego offered half-heartedly. He didn't want Ollie there, but he would do it to make Sean happy.

"No, enough of this," Sean shook his head, taking off his glasses and wiping his lenses off with the hem of his shirt. "We're too proud, okay? Please stop offering to buy things. Unless you want to buy me dinner again; I could live with that."

"What do I get out of this?" Diego almost felt his skin burning with excitement and lust. You're not a teenager, stop this.

"The thrill of my company?" Sean made a cute face.

"Another massage?" Diego asked, his heart thumping in his chest.

"Are you sore again?" Sean shifted to look at him, this time with concern.

"Well... only the usual wear and tear," Diego shyly averted his eyes from Sean's and focused instead on the people who were still trickling out from the corridor. "The last one was awesome, okay? It's alright if you don't want to, sorry. Forget I asked. It was stupid of me."

"What? Slow down!" Sean giggled. "I never said no."

"No it's a bad idea," Diego knew it would only send them down a dangerous road. He was with Rachel, and Sean was with Ollie. He wanted to have Sean's hands on him again so badly, but it had the potential to get so messy. But... feelings like this... how could they be bad? Sean liked him back - and it wasn't like he and Ollie didn't make exceptions.

"Why? Because I'm gay and stuff?" Sean asked, sounding a little sad. "Does that make you uncomfortable?" Hell, Sean. You have no idea how uncomfortable I'm feeling with many things right now. This is just the tip of the iceberg.

"No, it's just... I mean, it sounds weird and creepy," Diego couldn't help but let the words tumble from him. "You have a boyfriend and I have a girlfriend. I should not be asking you to rub me down. That's... so weird."

"You didn't have a problem with it last time," Sean pointed out. "Or was it all the booze you drank?"

"I guess it had a hand in it, but... I liked it," Diego was blushing red right now. "Can we talk somewhere else, maybe? This place is going to be swarming with wrestlers soon and I don't need some paparazzi snapping us."

"Come swing by my room!" Sean hopped to his little feet and nodded with his head. "We can chill and chat without anyone seeing how embarrassed you are."

Diego laughed at Sean's teasing and obeyed him. Their cab driver was not an efficient one, evidently incapable of following simple directions. The entire time, Diego's guts were like butterflies. The thought of being alone with Sean filled him with apprehension and doubt, but also excitement. The kind of feeling he used to get when he'd sneak out of his house as a teenager to meet with his first girlfriend. Diego checked into his room first and left his luggage there. Rachel would be sharing with him that night, but she was driving and would likely go right to the arena. She'd call him if she changed her mind.

Sean's room was on the floor above his. Room 608. Diego was nearly shaking as he approached. Standing outside, he couldn't bring himself to knock on the door. What if Sean thought he was just some kind of sick pervert? What if Sean told Ollie or even Rachel about him? For nearly three full minutes he worked up the courage to knock on the door. Will this change everything? What if something happens? What if nothing happens? What's wrong with me? After nearly three minutes of weighing up the risks and the choices, Diego finally knocked on the door.

"About time!" Sean scolded him when he opened the door, but a playful grin was on his face. He'd untied his hair, and it now framed his face and tumbled down his chest. Wow, he's cute. "Don't you want to come in?"

"Oh-- yeah," Diego spluttered and walked his way in before someone from KADA happened to arrive and notice him acting like a loser. Ugh, I haven't felt this way in a long, long time.

"Do you want a drink? Something to eat?" Sean looked at him in confusion. Diego sat down on the bed, his mind foggy, his heart pounding. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he replied, nodding. His mouth was so dry. Why was he here?

"We have at least two and a half hours before we have to head to the arena," Sean looked at him strangely before turning away. "We could watch a movie, or work out. Go for a swim? Hang out?" I know what I'd like to do for two hours, he thought, but he didn't dare to say it. Sean probably didn't feel the same way. Rachel thought Sean had a crush on him, but Diego didn't know for sure.

"I planned to work out," Diego said, but then a flash of boldness overtook him. "But why don't we see what's on the TV here and chill for a little while? I've had nothing but kids and flights for too long. I could use some relaxation."

"Sure!" Sean beamed at him, picking up the remote and flicking on the flatscreen television. It was directly facing the bed, which was nice. So often they always found a room where the tv was set up for the sofa. Diego kicked his shoes off and lay down comfortably on the double bed on his back. Sean flopped down next to him and handed him the remote.

"I dunno what to put on," Diego shrugged.

"Oh you're boring," Sean cursed and snatched it back. The words were meaningless, but somehow from Sean, they cut deep. I am boring. That's the problem. That's always the problem. The younger fellow switched to a channel showing 'Confessions of a Shopaholic' and Diego audibly whined. Sean shot him a dirty look. "You had your chance! So shut up and watch the movie." After about five minutes of having no interest in what he was watching, Diego peeked a glance at Sean. So cute. So perfect. Even if his taste in television was freaking terrible. "Are you bored yet?" Sean asked. He must have felt Diego's eyes on him.

"Yeah," Diego moped, shifting uncomfortably.

"Good, because this is horrible. Do you want to do something else instead?"

"Is the..." Diego inhaled. "Is the massage offer still on the table?"

"I thought you'd never ask!" Sean chirped excitedly, and Diego's heart nearly leapt right out of his ribcage. "Take your shirt off." Diego wasted little time in following his friend's orders, tossing his tee-shirt carelessly onto the floor and rolling onto his belly.

"You were waiting for me to ask?" Diego pondered aloud, glad to find a way to hide his erection.

"Mhm," Sean climbed aboard, straddling Diego's buttocks and putting his warm hands on the small of the Brazilian's back. "I didn't want to overstep boundaries or anything. I needed to see if you wanted to or not. Last time I could barely feel my face I was so drunk."

"Hey, Sean?" Diego let out a long sigh of contentment as the boy gently ran his short fingernails up the length of his spine, eliciting goosebumps on his skin. "Why do you like doing this for me?"

"You're my friend," Sean answered, his fingertips gently starting to push into the muscles. "Plus, you have a nice body. It's... nice."

"I hope so, I worked on it for twenty years," Diego hugged the pillow in front of him and shoved his face in it. "You have a great body too."

"I'm fit," Sean agreed. "I mean, I have to be if you're going to just keep throwing me through tables, you douchebag."

"You haven't been through a table in ages!" Diego laughed, and Sean made his feelings clear by slapping him on the shoulder.

"When's the last time you took a huge bump?" Sean asked indignantly. "A real one, not when you headbutted Jimmy because you can't even do a basic springboard!"

"You threw me by the hair once," Diego reminded him, and Sean made an exasperated growl.

"You are so spoiled, you are!" The Cherokee boy scooted up and grabbed another handful of Diego's curly locks, causing the man to make a very effeminate squeak of pain. "If you didn't sell the move that's your fault. I guess I have to go through another series of ladders and barricades before I can get another push. If only I had the privilege of whining that someone pulled my hair once and still managed to win the grand prize of the company."

"Sean...?" Diego's guilt went from his scalp down to his toes and then flooded his stomach with sadness. It was me. I stole your push. I'm a jerk. Not Lance. "I'm sorry that happened. If I could trade places with you, I would."

"You mean you want to rub me down instead?" Sean joked, and Diego giggled. He wouldn't mind, to be honest.

"Would you like me to?" Diego asked, nervous and worried that Sean might think he was some weirdo.

"I wouldn't say no, but I'm paranoid that you're just leading me on or something," Sean said after a short silence. He didn't sound as chipper as usual, but he continued his machinations. Soft but firm, hitting the knots that Diego didn't even know he had. Rachel had to learn how to do this. Maybe he would learn as well, for her. Or for Sean.

"Sean... do you like me?" Diego forced himself to ask. Sean's hands slowed, and he heard the younger man inhale deeply.

"Y-yes," Sean said, withdrawing his fingertips from his friend's trap muscles. Diego almost felt naked without those hands touching him. "Is that... going to be a problem?"

"I dunno," Diego's heart was racing. I like you too, Sean. Yes, Sean, I feel the same way. Sean, take off your clothes.

"What do you mean you don't know?" Sean asked, and Diego felt him getting off and lying next to him, looking him directly in the eyes. He looked scared. Sad. Ashamed. Me too, buddy. Me too.

"You've been with Ollie for nearly two years," Diego reminded him, seeing the flicker of guilt in his friend's eye. "I mean, what about him? Does he know?"

"He... knows that I think you're sexy as hell," Sean stammered, turning his face away. "He doesn't know that I... never mind."

"Why me, though?" Diego asked, bringing his hand up to comfort Sean. It rested on the boy's muscular back, right underneath his neck. He flinched at Diego's touch. "I'm boring, remember? You know it, I know it, every wrestling fan in the freaking world knows it."

"I suppose when you took me out on that date... well, that wasn't a date, according to you, and... it's been hard while Oliver's hurt. And of course, nobody's ever made more effort to make me happy than Oliver has, and I feel like the biggest ass in the world for feeling this way," Sean's words hit Diego right in the heart.

When he thought of Sean, he rarely thought of Rachel or the ways he might be hurting her. It was the internal conflict that was so upsetting. He didn't want to be gay or bi or whatever. He'd seen the ways it made life so hard for Lovecraft and even for Sean. He had his children to worry about. He thought it would be easier for Sean because he was already out and gay and proud and stuff. He didn't stop to think that the younger man was having internal conflicts of his own. The poor guy.

"Di... why do you let me make a fool of myself so much?" Sean then asked after a long pause.

"What do you mean?" Diego asked, fairly sure he knew where this was going. He didn't know if he was ready for this part of the conversation.

"You take me on dates. You kiss me and touch me when we're drunk. I mean, I waited for you at the airport for hours and now I'm here rubbing you up and down. Dude, why are you letting me do this?" Sean sighed. "Nothing's ever going to happen between us. I'm... an idiot. I always end up doing something stupid."

"Sean... can I do something even stupider?" Diego asked, his guts churning. He wasn't an intuitive person, but he knew that this was the last opportunity he was ever going to have, now the game was given away. Sean turned back towards him, and Diego quickly moved forward and pressed his lips against his friend's. Sean's eyes bugged, but he made no effort to stop. For a short while, sparks flew through Sean and into him. This wasn't like the sloppy, drunken make-out in the bed. They both wanted this, he knew it. Sean wiggled himself closer, never once taking his lips away, and put his arms around Diego, who did the same. There wasn't any uncertainty, though. This was what he wanted. He knew it was. Why else would it feel so good, so right? Sean was the first to break away.

"Why would you do that?" Sean asked him, glumly. He wiped at his eyes. "What the hell? I'm never going to stop liking you now. Dammit."

"I like you too," Diego forced himself to say. Blood rushed to both his face and his groin. He felt hot. Scared. Vulnerable. "I've tried my best not to, but... I do."

"Why don't you want to?" Sean whispered. "Am I horrible or something?"

"You're the most amazing person I've ever met," Diego reassured him, looking him in those lovely eyes. "You're just a guy. It feels wrong. You feel right, but the guy feels... wrong."

"Why?" Sean asked him, and Diego was at a loss for words. There wasn't a good explanation for this. Sean, thankfully, just seemed to understand what he was going through. "So, what now?"

"Uh..." Diego stammered uncomfortably. "To tell you the truth I didn't think this far ahead. I just really wanted to do that."

"Can I... do it again?" Sean asked, a smile finally coming across his pretty mouth.

"Yes, please," Diego pulled his warm body closer. It felt like there was an electrical storm inside him. He felt happy now. Giddy. Like a damn teenager. Sean's lips tasted delightful. His warm hands and cute nose and pretty eyes and lovely hair and... ahh. He pulled away after a short while.

"I... this is all new to me," Diego said, and Sean looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry. I have no idea what I'm doing."

"That's okay. I won't pressure you to do anything. I'm just struggling to believe that this is even real, you know?" Sean replied. "Is this real, Di? You're not just playing with me?"

"I'm not. I've been waiting for this for so long," Diego looked at him again. He likes me. He really does. "I just have no idea what's supposed to happen now."

"I don't know either, Di," Sean admitted. "I've never been in this situation before. Why don't we take things slow for now? I've got a lot of stuff to think about."

"So do I. Maybe I should leave for a bit," Diego said, his heart racing. "I've just done something I didn't think I'd do for thirty-four years."

"Okay," Sean sounded disappointed. "But can you give me maybe one more kiss before you go, so that I don't panic and think you hate me?"

Diego smiled fondly at him. "Yeah, sure."

~

Saturday, May 19th

"What the hell is taking him so long?" Diego grumbled, and Gloria slapped him on the side of the head.

"Next time you whine, you're getting a Chinese burn," she warned him. "The time after that, I'm giving you a purple nurple."

"But where is he? It's rude!" Diego complained, and Gloria snatched up his arm and twisted the skin between her two hands, making him hiss in pain. "What are, twelve?" Diego yanked his arm away, and she grinned at him.

"You need to relax, little starling," Gloria told him firmly. "Lance isn't running on London time. He'll be here soon, I'm sure of it. If he doesn't, then I'll be the one to kick his cockney ass. You need to set a better example."

"Yes Mom," he rolled his eyes. "And stop calling me little starling."

"You'll always be my little starling," Gloria laughed. "You were the most frightened little thing when you got called up to the KADA roster. It melts my heart seeing you finally winning that ugly belt."

"Have I ever thanked you for doing all that?" Diego asked suddenly, and she shrugged.

"No, but your unconditional love is all I ever wanted in return," she leaned over and pecked him happily on the cheek. "Now it's your turn to pay that kindness forward, okay? Play nice. Imagine what it's like moving halfway across the world to wrestle, only to have your childhood hero think you're nothing but an offensive pain in the ass."

"I wish I never told you about that," Diego admitted, looking at his phone. Sean hadn't texted in a while. He missed him. Rachel hadn't texted in a while either, but he didn't miss her as much.

"I wish you never told me too because it makes me think you're an asshole for being so mean to him," Gloria lectured him, to his irritation. "You need to grow up. You're the oldest manbaby in the world, you know?"

"You've made it pretty clear in the last couple of months, yeah," Diego grinned at her. He adored Gloria. Why wouldn't he? She'd been the one who picked up the pieces when he fell apart in his earliest days and supported him unconditionally from the very beginning. She was the most selfless person he knew. For nearly two years she hadn't won a single televised match, always happy to let the other girls look strong, always sharing her immense talent and experience to male and female alike, helping everyone grow and learn. She'd been one of the first to sympathise with Lance. As tough and tough as she looked, she was a sweetheart.

"Oh, look who decided to show up!" Gloria clapped her hands sardonically, and Lance uttered a thousand apologies as he scuttled through the door and sidled his way around the ring to where Diego and Gloria were sitting on a bench together.

"I'm not that late, am I?" He asked nervously, looking at the clock on the wall and wincing. "I'm so sorry. I should have given you a bell, but I was on the road."

"Given me a what?" Gloria chuckled, getting up and hugging her little friend. Aw, how sweet, Diego grimaced.

"A bell, a ring, a call. Traffic was a proper shambles," Lance laughed and took off his sunglasses, revealing bright green contacts and a small bruise around his eye that he failed to conceal completely.

"What's all this, then? Have you been fighting again?" Gloria noticed it too, outlining it with her fingers and getting makeup on them. Lance drew in air through his teeth, either from the pain of having his bruise poked or from the embarrassment.

"I wish I had a good story to tell you about a brilliant fight where I beat up three homophobic chavs, but the boring truth is that there was an overhead cabinet next to the loo in my room, and I managed to hit my bloody face on it," Lance started laughing. Diego didn't believe him for a second. Someone must have hit him in the face since the show last night. Why the kid wouldn't just keep a lower profile and avoid all this crap was beyond his understanding. Did he like being treated like garbage?

"Well, I'm glad you got all that clumsiness out of your system! We've still got this ring booked for the rest of our three hours, so do a nice quick warmup and Diego, who is sulking over there, will teach you how to wrestle!" Gloria explained, turning to Diego and glaring daggers through him. She could be a scary woman. She was very powerful and well-built, even beating half the men in the locker room at arm wrestling. Diego had no doubt she'd punch his lights out if he didn't cooperate today. That was why she was here in the first place - to chaperone and make sure Diego behaved himself.

"Diego, you're looking especially radiant today," Lance decided he'd be the one to make a bitchy comment first.

"Must be my shampoo," Diego forced an insincere smile and got to his feet. Lance was wearing a surprisingly masculine outfit today, an athletic tank-top with compression shorts and black running shoes. His shoulder-length hair was tied back and aside from the obvious concealer around his bruised eye he wasn't wearing any makeup at all. It was just the shamrock coloured eyes and nails that reminded Diego that his nemesis was still more obsessed with his look than taking wrestling seriously. He was actually kind of cute without all that stuff - even attractive - so why did he go to the trouble of ruining that?

"Okay, good," Gloria interjected, already sensing the hostility between them. "Just the basics today, Lance. You'd be surprised at how easily most of the bigger stuff falls into place when you're in sync with your opponent, but when you're in the ring, you are all over the shop, darling."

"I know, I suck," Lance put his sunglasses, wallet and drinking bottle down by Gloria's bag.

"You're awful," Gloria told him honestly. "That's okay, though. We've all been awful at some point. The way Michelle and I both see it, the problem is that you were brought up way, way too early. You should have been wrestling for at least another two years before the Queen Wasp decided to bring you up to the main roster. I don't say this to be mean, sweetheart, you know that, don't you?"

"Yeah," Lance admitted glumly, stretching his legs.

"Don't feel bad about it! You've done so well as a manager and you'll always have opportunities there, but I think you might want more than that in the future, am I right?" Gloria reassured him, hopping up on the ring apron and rolling into the ring. "That's why you and our champion are meeting for a few hours a week. Feel free to hop in any time you want, Diego. I'm not the one being paid for this."

Why? Why the hell couldn't Michelle just let Gloria train him? Something about forcing the two of them to interact so they'd get better with each other. That'll be the day. Diego stretched his back, legs and arms for a bit before he and Lance both hopped into the ring and Gloria was the one to set the pace. Funny how she was training Diego in training Lance. Free of charge, too. In her spare time. We don't deserve someone like her, he thought. She's too good for me. Diego and Lance said very little to each other. Gloria acted as mediator and shot caller throughout the extended session. Lance was a goddamn nightmare to work with, and Diego felt so sorry for Jimmy Vause, whose reputation was almost destroyed by the Brit's piss-poor efforts.

He was impossible! He hesitated, he overthought every movement, and he was so goddamn slow. Unsure of himself. Second guessing everything. Nobody was this bad in their rookie year. He remembered Sean, Ollie, Pearl, Rachel, Giorgio and even Irina in their first years. Awkward and stiff perhaps, but they could all work a two, maybe even three-star match. Lance was in a league all his own. If he were a horse, Diego would have had no choice but to shoot him. Remarkable how someone who made a huge following and reputation in England with his athletic and dancing talent could have two left feet when he was trying to wrestle.

"Goddammit!" Lance yelled to nobody in particular when he messed up his footwork while running the ropes for the eleventh or twelfth time in a row. He was getting frustrated with himself. Okay, so I'm not alone in feeling annoyed, Diego though. It had been two hours now, and he was so freaking done. He'd have better luck trying to teach Jilly and Julian to share a bowl of spaghetti. It'd be a lot less messy. "Bloody hell!"

"What's going on?" Gloria asked him, leaning against the turnbuckle. "I know you can do this! You know it. What's the problem?"

"Can I?" Lance snapped back at her, crouching and hugging his knees with his arms. "Because it really doesn't look like I can, does it?

"You can because you have to," Gloria told him sternly, shrugging off his angry response. "Am I right in thinking you've always been good at the things you've done before? Dancing?" Lance nodded in shame, and she clicked her tongue. "This must be hard for you then, Lance, but you made it all the way here, so you must be doing something right. It's not meant to be easy. Don't worry, we'll keep running through this for as long as it takes, honey. Don't you dare give up on me now. Do you need to take a few minutes? It's okay if you need to gather yourself."

"Oh, shrug it off, Lovecraft," Diego took the tough love approach. "This is just the basics. Quit the tears and run it through again. There's no crying in wrestling."

"Why are you bothering with me anyway? I'm rubbish," Lance began to mope, and Diego rolled his eyes. "I don't know why I thought I could do this. Why am I even here? Everyone hates me! Everyone thinks I'm a joke! They all want me to leave. Nobody thinks I can do it, not even my parents. I just want to go back to London and never come back."

Finally! Diego was thrilled to hear Lance's irritating resilience come to an end at last. If he'd known all it took was for the kid to see for himself how bad he was, he would have organised to train him months ago. Gloria didn't feel the same way, she went and crouched down next to him.

"Sweetheart, this is all very normal," Gloria said softly. "Whatever you thought professional wrestling was, throw all that away. This is it. We suffer, we hurt and we cry. Even macho man Diego does sometimes. This breakdown you're having right now? Nothing special. I'd say it's pretty par for the course. It's more about hard work, resilience and mind-crushing monotony than it is about being a natural superstar - so you're going to have to keep at it. Now I'll give you a few minutes, and then I need you to stop the pity party and run through this with Diego again until we get this right. Once we get this right, it's remarkable how much easier it gets to do it right again. Every time it'll get a little bit easier. Di?"

"Me? Oh no," Diego shook his head. "I'm done wasting my time here. You heard him. He's given up. There's no point in making all this effort to help someone who can't be helped." Gloria looked so angry that he actually gulped when he saw the way her lip curled and her jaw clenched. Why? It was the truth!

"I'm going to need you to piss off, Diego," she pointed at the door. He hesitated, but she stood up and shouted. "I'm not being cute. Get the hell out. I hope your daughters are smart enough never to come to you when they need help and support because you're a real asshole. Go!" The moment she mentioned his children, Diego flared up.

"At least I have daughters," Diego retorted indignantly, knowing that his cruel comment would hit her right in the soul, a low blow to answer a low blow.

The woman didn't reply. As Diego made his way out, he instantly felt terrible about what he said. Not to Lovecraft, who needed to hear the truth, but to Gloria. She always wanted children, but she could never have them. He had no right to say that to her.

~

Friday, May 25th

Matches with Jimmy Vause were always tricky. He was a terrific, safe and crisp wrestler, one of the best veterans of the industry, but man, he played rough. It was for the benefit of the cameras, of course. Jimmy portrayed a savage lion, but off camera he was little more than a placid siamese kitten. He ran wrestling seminars, he visited sick children and he gave a lot to charities. Still, that didn't mean he didn't throw Diego onto the canvas hard. When he briefly looked to see where Lance was, he could see the gay kid grinning after one of Diego's very rough landings. You little bastard. By what right did this useless British turd enjoy the pain Diego was receiving as part of a real wrestling match? It's not like Lance would ever know what it was like to properly sell a move. A roar from Jimmy reminded Diego that he was still in a match and there was no time to fret about Lance being a smug pain in the ass on the outside of the ring.

During one spot in which Diego grabbed the ropes by the corner turnbuckle and launched himself over Jimmy's head to land behind him, he felt something in his left knee give out and it buckled under his weight. Uh oh. Oh no. What the hell was that? Jimmy turned around and saw Diego on one knee, and a slight look of concern on his face told Diego that he knew what happened. There was no way they could finish the match the way the script called for now. Jimmy was a massive man and heavy. Diego needed all his strength to lift him for the Silva Spiral, but with one knee giving out, that was out of the question. The match was still a few minutes short of the time Michelle gave them, but that didn't matter. A wrestler's health always came first, and they needed to wrap this up quickly in a believable way.

"Cradle!" Diego begged quietly enough for Jimmy to hear him. The inside cradle pin was a good one if a match needed an abrupt finish. Safe and relatively easy, and it looked effective. Jimmy approached, and Diego sprung up, crying out in agony as his knee was starting to throb and wrapped one arm around Jimmy's neck and the other around his left leg, rolling the two over onto Jimmy's back and securing the bigger man's other leg with his own. Jimmy let out a yelp of surprise on the way down, selling it as a move he hadn't been expecting, which was good. It lent credibility to the cradle as a move to finish the match. At once, Diego felt grateful to be in a program with someone who was so intuitive and experienced. Not everyone would have known instinctively that something was wrong. The referee wasn't entirely sure what was happening and hesitated before making the third count, but when Jimmy didn't break out of the pin, he did his job and the match was over.

Diego retained the championship belt in his second rematch with Jimmy, effectively putting an end to their feud, but management wasn't going to be too happy with that ending to the match. A decisive victory was supposed to end a storyline, but this was hardly a clean win. It looked like Diego won by the skin of his teeth. Maybe Vause would get another match in future. Still, injuries were impossible to predict. Hell, Gloria won her last match some time ago when Irina landed awkwardly and knocked herself near unconscious. Injury, he heard his inner voice remind him. You just hurt yourself. Oh no. No, I didn't. I wouldn't. I can't. Jimmy slithered away unnoticed, his job done and remaining in character while the cameras were still on, trusting the referee and Lance to help Diego backstage. The referee finally seemed to click when Diego didn't make it to both feet by himself to celebrate his victory.

"Do you need a stretcher?" The referee asked him quietly, and Diego shook his head. No. I'm not injured. Not that badly, at least. It's just an awkward landing; nothing's wrong. He slid his way to the side of the ring and put his right foot firmly down on the mat underneath, but his left knee was starting to seriously bother him. Lance was there immediately, and he wasn't grinning this time. He looked scared.

"What happened? Can you walk? Put your arm around me," he spoke a mile a minute, and Diego tried to put some weight on his left leg, but it was clear to him that he needed some help. He did as Lance told him, and he began to limp his way backstage.

"Ahh, dammit!" Diego hissed in pain. "Something's wrong."

"Oh, you think?" Lance scoffed. Alright, then. He'd gained a tiny amount of affection for the kid after the last twenty seconds, but now it was all gone. Lovecraft just had this way of making Diego hate him.

"Ugh I forgot the belt," Diego muttered as they disappeared through the curtain into the backstage.

"Who cares about the belt? Someone will bring it in," Lance reassured him. "As long as you're okay."

"Dude, what happened? You scared the hell out of me!" Jimmy was waiting for them right around the corner. He looked concerned. Sean was nearby as well, asking questions, giving sympathy. How sweet of him, but I'm fine.

"Just a bad landing I think," Diego lied, and Lance rolled his eyes behind beetle black contacts, putting Diego down and helping him lean against the table.

"I saw it myself, you hurt your knee," Lance cleared everything up. "Stop being a wimp and admit you hurt yourself."

"Oh, eat me, Lovecraft," Diego jeered. "Wait, no, you probably would if you got the chance."

"Tch, I should have just left you to crawl back by yourself," Lance folded his arms and walked away. Sean caught his eye and the boy looked angry. Uh oh. Do the right thing before he kicks your ass.

"Lance, hey," Diego called out. Lance paused and turned around reluctantly, a look of suspicion and hurt on his face.

"What? You've thought of an even better burn or did you just want to tell me what a disgrace of a wrestler I am? Or wait, is it another gay joke? More tips on how to not be me?" Lance's voice had that strain of cockney accent in it that old Diego his feelings had been hurt.

"No," Diego stammered, wary that both Jimmy and Sean were watching him like a hawk. "I'm sorry I said that. It was uncalled for, and thank you for helping me make my way back here. I really appreciate it."

"Naww, aren't you a sweetie?" Lance folded his bare arms, his incredibly black nails reflecting the bright light above him. "It's a shame I don't believe you. Don't feel like you have to thank me. I would have done it for anyone, even that twat who shoved me over in the last Pay Per View. You're just lucky I'm not the kind of person you are." This time when Lance stormed off, nobody tried to stop him.

"He hates you," Jimmy reflected casually when Lance was out of earshot. "Like, damn, dude. He's such a nice guy, but he hates your guts."

"Hey! Don't look at me like that!" Diego pointed to Sean, who raised his eyebrows. "I was nice! I said nice things. He's the one with the chip on his shoulder."

"In his defence, I didn't believe you either," Sean hopped up on the table next to his friend. "You've been horrible to him since day one, and I heard all about what a jerk you were at that training session."

"Yeah, Diego. That gay joke was out of order," Jimmy agreed, and Diego felt a flash of rage. Those freaking hypocrites! Who were they to criticise him?

"That all means a lot from the guy who sent him to Coventry and the guy who cut up all his clothes in the locker room!" Diego lashed out.

"I wasn't being vindictive, dude. I put the pressure on him because I wanted to see if he had the gusto to survive in this business," Jimmy's voice was strange. It was low and menacing, but he spoke so softly that sometimes Diego didn't quite hear everything he said. "He passed the test, and now he's one of us. You're the one who's causing problems."

"And I apologised to him and actually meant it," Sean added, playing with his long ponytail. "He forgave me, and we're friends now. I wish you could do the same, because this grudge isn't cute anymore, Di. You can't just say the right things once and it'll all go away. Whatever your problem is, and I'm pretty sure I know what it is, grow some balls and sort it out, will you?"

"Don't you both have somewhere else to be?" Diego didn't mean to sound hostile, but he wasn't feeling too good. He didn't feel like talking right now.

"Yeah, whatever," Jimmy shrugged and turned to leave. "I hope you're alright, man. Sorry about the knee. Let me know how it goes, yeah?"

"That means you too," Diego snapped after Jimmy walked away but Sean had not. Sean only moved closer to him, close enough that they were almost touching, and he did his best to move away. "No, you can't get too close to me here! What are you doing?"

"I'm being your friend," Sean frowned. "Is that what you think of me? That I can't keep my hands off you, or something? Is that what you're scared of when it comes to Lance? The gay thing?"

"I don't know, okay?" Diego said quietly, painfully shifting his weight on the table. "I'm confused and I'm scared and I hate that guy so much. He's not like you, Sean. You're normal. He's... so..."

"Gay, I get it," Sean grumbled and hopped down. "For the record Diego, he is like me. Maybe I don't dye my hair and dress up, but I like men every bit as much as he does. If you don't respect him because he's gay, then you don't respect me either. Please sort out your crap out, Diego. For my sake. Otherwise, I don't want to see you anymore."

"So why are you still here?" Diego asked, rather rudely. "If I'm such a jackass, why haven't you stormed off like your little pommy buddy?"

"Because I need to make sure you're alright, even if you are a jackass right now!" Sean slapped Diego on the arm.

"What was that for?" Diego frowned at him.

"You're a jackass!" Sean slapped him again.

"I don't know what I'm doing," Diego admitted sheepishly, wary that a lot of people probably saw that display. It wasn't likely anybody would notice or care - it was hardly out of the ordinary, but ever since he and Sean had begun to sneak kisses and bouts of petting behind closed doors, he felt as though everybody knew what he was up to with the young Cherokee.

"Then you're being a jackass for no reason! Stop being mean to Lance," Sean turned to see the stretcher finally being wheeled down the corridor by the backstage crew.

"I'll try," Diego muttered, but Sean shook his head.

"No. You'll do it, because we're all fed up with it."