Why did I have to be nice? Even though he hadn't said the words aloud, Seth could hear the whine that would be in his tone and even he had to cringe as he walked up to his door. It wasn't like it was a huge deal. Becky was a good friend, after all, and she had to do a meet and greet in Davenport, so he had asked if she wanted to stay at his place rather than a hotel. He was going to be away anyway, and he thought she'd appreciate staying in a house with some personality—and privacy from fans—instead of yet another hotel. Now that he was home earlier than expected, though, he just wanted to zone out and play some video games for a while; company and energetic chatting were both pretty low on his wish list.
He disarmed and reset the security alarm quickly, half surprised Becky had remembered to activate it in the first place. A few sharp beeps rang out, and Seth hoped they hadn't woken her up. As he walked through the living room, he realized he needn't have worried: a lamp was on low and the television was paused on some Netflix show he hadn't seen. Glancing down at the couch, he saw a fuzzy grey blanket flipped back as if Becky had just gotten up. Why was she sleeping out here? The guest suite was cozy; Seth had spent a few nights in there himself before breaking up with his last girlfriend, so he had made sure it was comfortable. Then he heard a noise from the kitchen and he peered around the corner. "Be—"
"AAAH!" Seth wasn't sure which hit him first: Becky's startled scream or the snack bowl she had tossed at him, fuelled by panic and reflexes. Her second scream was shorter and quieter, more a way to shake off the sudden fear than anything. "Oh fuck. Seth. Oh, thank god." She staggered back a step in relief, popcorn crunching under her feet, and held a hand to her chest. "Holy shit."
Seth was still plucking popcorn out of his hair and saying a silent thanks that his dog was with his mother, so it took him a moment to take in the whole scene. Damn. Becky was shaking out her hands now, trying to banish the last tingles of adrenaline, but his gaze was drawn lower. He knew she preferred wrestling gear that covered her stomach because of some insecurities she still harboured, but from what he could see—which was currently a lot—she had no reason to worry. He wasn't sure if what she was wearing would be considered booty shorts or underwear, but they were tiny and tight and left everything between its low waist and the high, ragged edge of an old, cropped Pearl Jam shirt bare. The t-shirt had definitely seen better days, but Becky had clearly tried to prolong its life, hacking away at fraying bits until it was the crop top it was now. The sleeves were long gone, leaving arm holes that offered just a peek of her breasts from the side. Seth forced himself to look up, but that didn't help much: Becky's face was as striking as the rest of her. "Hey. Sorry. Didn't mean to startle you. One of the shows got cancelled, so. . . ." He gestured vaguely towards the front door. "Didn't you hear the alarm beep?"
Still wide-eyed, Becky shook her head. "I had the popcorn in the microwave. I just thought the beep was louder than normal because I was right in the kitchen." Then she glanced down at the drift of popcorn on the floor. Miraculously, between being thrown from Becky's hands and hitting Seth's chest, the bowl had somehow retained enough popcorn to cover the bottom. "I'm sorry. I'll clean it up right away." When she bent down to grab the bowl, Seth's gaze naturally followed, drawn to the gaping neckline of her shirt. "Where's your vac—" Becky glanced up at him and blushed when she followed his gaze. "Sorry. Again. Shit." She stood quickly and tried to tug her shirt down, but it didn't help much. "I'll . . . I'll go get dressed and then I'll be right back to clean things up."
"Don't worry about it." Seth's entire mouth felt parched and his gaze kept dipping down to Becky's hips. I bet her ass looks amazing in those. The thought took him by surprise and he was grateful it hadn't made its way to his tongue. What was he even thinking? He and Becky had been close for years, from the early days of NXT to the main roster. She was at his house as a guest, out of kindness. And it wasn't like he hadn't seen her in various states of undress before; that was the nature of wrestling backstage, especially in the early days of NXT when they were piecing things together—storylines as well as ring gear—as they went along. So why was his brain picking now to wonder what it would be like to slide his hand up that shirt or down into— No, he told himself, shaking popcorn off his arms and shoulders. Enough of that.
Glancing up at Becky's face—and working hard to keep his gaze there—Seth reconsidered. She had been licking her lips before he met her gaze and she took a big gulp of air as she stopped, wrapping her arms across her abdomen. "I . . . I should. . . ," she stammered again, pupils huge in the dim light. Seth had seen that type of look often enough to know it had nothing to do with adrenaline or being startled.
"Don't." He hadn't taken his shoes off yet, and the crunch of the popcorn under his soles was oddly satisfying. Seth stopped right in front of her, their gazes still melded.
He started the kiss. He knew he did. He cupped her head with one hand and meant to slide the other around her waist, but it ventured lower, fingers digging into her ass. She's going to smack me, Seth thought. She's going to pull back and slap me and kick me in the balls and I probably deserve all of it, but DAMN. He was gripped by a strange blend of sensations, the cinnamon-warm glow of a curiosity sated—a silent question answered, a secret wish fulfilled—and the sharper heat of lust digging its claws into his hips as he pressed her against the wall. It all translated to more.
As soon as he felt her right leg lift up, Seth knew he should stop and guard his groin, but then her arms were twining around his neck like ascending ivy, hands gripping his hair. Is she trying to climb—? Curious, Seth took his hand away from the back of her head and curled it around the back of her thigh, lifting her slightly. As soon as her feet were off the ground, Becky locked her legs around his waist. DAMN.
Becky eventually broke the kiss not with a slap, but with a small whimper of pain when a light switch dug into her back. "Oh god. Oh fuck. I'm sorry. I made a mess of your house and now I've—"
Seth stopped her with another kiss, hoisting her up high enough that the tiny wet patch on her panties—or shorts or whatever they were—pressed against the spot where his shirt had ridden up. Good, he thought hazily, staggering towards the couch and nearly whacking his shin on the coffee table. It's not just me. He managed to sit without losing his grip on her or bashing their heads together. His hands were halfway up Becky's back, making her shirt rise, when she stopped to breathe again. "Don't. Don't apologize," he rasped, almost growling as she tried to move back further on his lap. He was achingly hard and the sudden pressure made him moan. "Haven't you ever thought about it?" His voice was a low rumble, making them both shiver, and he moved his hands down to her hips. "What it would be like?"
She couldn't quite meet his gaze until he tucked a hand under her chin and kept it in place. "Us? This?" When she glanced down and saw how wet her panties were, she blushed and took a shaky breath. "Yeah. I mean. . . ." Then her expression darkened. "But you just brok—"
"I don't care." Seth kissed her again, a bit slower this time but no less hungry. He couldn't remember wanting to fuck anyone this much. Some of his past girlfriends had complained that the first thing he wanted to do when he got home from a long stint on the road was take his dog for a walk, not have sex with them. If he didn't do something soon, though, the popcorn on the floor wasn't going to be the only mess in the living room. "We're in my house," he whispered against her lips. "No one else is here. It's just us."
Becky ran a hand along his jaw, running her nails through his beard, and Seth tried to recall her exes. Had any of them had beards? Not that he could remember. He never paid them much mind except out of respect to her. "We're friends," she replied softly, wistfulness adding to the shakiness in her breath. "Good friends. I don't want to screw that up."
"You won't. We won't." Seth leaned in and started kissing her neck, mouth moving down as his hands made their way up her back again. "It's just tonight. I won't tell anyone, I swear."
"Just tonight," Becky echoed, sighing as he kissed her collarbone. The muscles in her back seemed to melt under his hands.
Seth peered around her corner at the wall clock; his Netflix and television had sleep timers set to engage past midnight and had already shut themselves down, leaving the single lamp and the streetlights outside as the only illumination. "Well, since it's past midnight," he teased, "maybe not."
"I don't know if I'll make it up the stairs." Becky's laugh was shaky and sheepish, but her eyes were pure hunger as she sat back just enough to pull her crop top over her head.
"Here's fine." And then Seth's mouth was on her breasts and her fingers were scrabbling at his belt and the fly of his jeans, moving things deftly out of the way. He was so engrossed in touching as much of her skin as possible that he didn't even realize she had pushed the crotch of her panties aside until she was angling her hips, and then everything was warm and wet and Seth felt a tingling wave sweep through him. "Holy shit," he hissed, pushing her panties as far down over her ass as he could. He desperately wanted to flip her onto her back and fuck her senseless, but she had an incredible rhythm going and he didn't want to disrupt anything that was making her moan like she was.
"Oh." It was high-pitched, somewhere between a laugh and a shriek, and the widest, most rapturous smile stretched across Becky's face as she changed her positioning ever so slightly. After that, each thrust of her hips made her moan louder and louder, and she only seemed to realize that Seth had already come when he accidentally bit into her shoulder. "Holy fuck."
"Don't stop." He was begging and it didn't bother him in the least. Watching Becky ride him until she came with a lurch that almost toppled her off his lap was better than any fantasy his mind could have conjured up about her. When she slumped against his chest, he kissed her shoulder, smiling as his beard seemed to tickle. If her skin was that sensitive, she was going have beard burn in some very interesting places tomorrow. "You need to get these off," he growled, tugging on her panties, "so we can fuck properly."
Becky made a fist in his shirt and gave him a hard kiss, rubbing herself against him. "You're wearing way more than I am."
"Not for long." Seth moved her to the side so he could stand, and he had his shirt over his head and on the couch before she even had her panties to her knees. He caught her looking at the mess they had made—the spilled popcorn on the floor, the rumpled blanket on the couch, the open bottle of water that had apparently fallen off the table—and shook his head. "Tomorrow. Later. Whenever." When she still seemed bothered by the mess, he gently shoved her back down on the couch and knelt on the floor, spreading her legs. "You take birth control, right?" he asked, pressing each word into her thigh with a kiss. He hadn't restocked his condoms since his break-up because he hadn't seen a reason to.
"Yeah." Becky was already sinking into the couch, one hand clutching at the rumpled blanket and the other twining in his hair as he moved steadily higher. "Not that I'm—fuck yes please." Her legs twitched so sharply that Seth had to grip her thighs to keep her from accidentally kicking him.
It didn't take him very long at all to make her climax again, so Seth did his best to pay attention to the little details: the way her eyelids fluttered just before she came, how they tasted together, the deep hitches in her breathing. "Again?" he offered, nuzzling the spot just under her navel as he took off his jeans. He wasn't quite ready yet, but making her scream his name over and over was almost as good as getting off himself.
"Upstairs," Becky managed, struggling to sit up straight.
Seth stood and pulled her to her feet, guiding her up the stairs and toward his room as they kissed. For a moment he lingered at the door to the guest suite. It's just tonight, he thought, though that could equally be a reason for or against. The guest room was a neutral space, one he often didn't enter for weeks at a time. But maybe it wouldn't be such a bad idea to replace the memory of his ex in his bed with some good casual sex. Just simple and fun, not shadowed with tension or underscored by feelings.
After long, lazy kissing session in the hallway that ended up knocking a piece of art off the wall, Seth carried her into his room and put her on the bed, entering her before she was even fully on the mattress. It felt like a rock concert: loud and electric and all encompassing, narrowing the world to them and the bed. When he went down on her the second time, eager to taste them together again, she stretched out like a sun-basking cat, all long lazy lines and contentment. He imagined he didn't look much different when she returned the favour. Having her mouth around him was almost as good as being inside her, and he'd happily have either.
They fucked twice more before they were both exhausted. Even though she looked like she could barely raise her head, Becky gestured to the door. "I can leave if you want," she offered, "so you can get some sleep."
Seth shook his head. "Stay. We still have a few hours to play," he added quickly.
It didn't take much convincing for Becky to cuddle closer; back in NXT, it was something of a running joke that she could be cold in the middle of a Florida summer. They both dozed off and on, ending up with Seth spooned behind her. He thought she was asleep until he heard a soft chuckle. "Did we fuck sideways?" she asked. "I can't remember."
"Then maybe we should, just in case," Seth replied, moving her hips a bit so he could enter her at a better angle. "To be thorough." When he dipped a hand between her legs, she moved against his fingers eagerly. My bed hasn't been this busy in months, Seth thought as they started fucking again, Becky's moans quickly rising.
The next time he woke up, though, Seth felt a chill and realized Becky wasn't snuggled back against him. His room was flooded with rich sunlight, and when he glanced at his bedside clock, he realized Becky had to be at her meet and greet in a few hours. On his way to the shower, he listened for other signs of life in the house, but nothing stood out. Normally even when his not-then-ex girlfriend was in the house, he could hear a door shut or something.
After he showered and dressed—there wasn't much popcorn in his hair, to his surprise, but given how often Becky had pulled on it, maybe that stood to reason—Seth hurried downstairs, but came up short when he saw the living room. It was spotless. The fuzzy grey blanket Becky had been using was nowhere to be seen, as was the toppled water bottle; the only evidence of its fall was a slightly damp spot on the carpet. All of the popcorn was gone; Seth even looked under the armchair, but there wasn't a speck left. Going into the kitchen, he expected to see some of the aftermath there: the popcorn bowl by the sink, maybe, or a sodden towel hung over the sink to dry. But it was spotless too. It was almost like Becky had never been there, and he was surprised to feel a twinge at that.
Then she came around the corner and yelped again, though thankfully she had nothing in her hands this time. "Hey," she said easily. "Hope I didn't wake you. I think I got all the popcorn up; the bowl's fine, by the way. The frame on your print has a chip on the bottom left corner." He couldn't tell if her sheepishness came from the damage or how it was wrought. "But it's back on the wall anyway. I put the blanket in the laund—"
Seth took a step closer to her. Would the electricity from last night still be there, now that the sun was out and they were both fully dressed? Judging from the way Becky's eyes widened, there was definitely still a spark, at least. "There was no rush," he said easily, leaning against the counter. "You could have woken me and we could ha—"
"Just for the night, remember? And a bit of the morning," Becky conceded, a slight blush shadowing her cheekbones. "I have to be at the meet and greet by—"
"In a few hours." Seth moved closer again, leaning down to kiss her. She had braided her hair back, so he didn't want to mess it up; he looped an arm around her waist instead, pulling her in close.
For a moment—a long inferno of a moment in which Seth's skinny jeans felt far tighter than usual and Becky's temperature was anything but cold—she kissed him back, but then Becky stepped away with a sigh. "I have to be at the meet and greet soon. I already called for a car."
"You . . . called—?" Seth blinked rapidly as the words filtered through his kiss-addled head. He had been all prepared to tempt Becky into one last quickie, savouring the unveiling he didn't get the night before. "But . . . I mean, I could drive you."
"I know, but. . . ." Becky jammed her hands in her pockets. "The McMahons are paying for the drivers, so we might as well give them something to do, right? And you aren't even supposed to be home yet," she added, "so if people know I was staying at your place and then you're driving me to the signing, they might think the wrong thing. And if things didn't end well with your ex, you don't need her having ammunition like that, so. . . ." She trailed off with a shrug and a half-smile. "Probably for the best."
"Yeah. Yeah, you're right." Seth reached for a coffee mug and nearly dropped it when a horn beeped outside. "Probably your ride."
Becky shuffled her feet as she nodded. "Yeah. So . . . thanks." Her blush came back in full force. "For letting me stay here, I mean. It was nice to have the space to move around and all that. And sorry again about . . . about the mess."
"No worries. It's all good." Seth set the mug down and trailed after Becky as she headed to the front door, where her bag and purse were already waiting. How had he missed that? "Hope the meet and greet goes well."
"Thanks." Her smile faltered a bit. "Most of the people will probably be there for Sasha, but we'll see. So . . . uh, bye." Becky rose on tiptoe and gave him a quick hug from the side before grabbing her things and hurrying down to the waiting car.
Seth watched the car pull away before going back to the kitchen, but his appetite had disappeared. He had been looking forward to sex more than breakfast, and now his muscles were protesting. Swearing under his breath, he grabbed his gym bag and headed to his wrestling school. Classes wouldn't start for a few hours yet, so he should be able to sneak in a workout without having to field a bunch of questions from students. It didn't stop his best friend and fellow trainer from asking questions, though. "Hey, bro." Marek gave him a friendly punch to the shoulder as soon as he came out of the changing room. "What's up? I didn't think you were going to be around for another day or so."
"Yeah. Me too. Show got cancelled." Seth was just grateful Becky hadn't marked up his back too much; the scratches that were there could be explained away from wear and tear in the ring. If he'd had to wear a shirt while working out, Marek would have suspected something for sure.
"What's up, man?" Marek set down the empty water bottles he was carrying and looked at Seth more closely. "Bad match?"
Seth shook his head. He'd promised Becky he wouldn't tell anyone, and while he trusted Marek with his life, he was going to keep his word. That didn't mean he couldn't talk about the night in general terms, though. "Had a one-nighter last night," he said, grimacing at the term. When he put it that way, it sounded cheap. "And now I'm not sure how I feel about it."
Marek gave him a sharp look. He had long since settled down and started a family, but he didn't judge Seth's rocky relationship road—or at least not much. "You used protection, right? You don't need some mysterious Baby Rollins showing up in nine months. The McMahons like you, but there's only so much they can keep quiet, you know?"
Technically the answer was no: Becky had said she was on birth control and Seth didn't think she would lie about that, not when the consequences for her were far more immediate than they would be for him. "Yeah. I'm not worried about that." He sat on a weightlifting bench and rolled his neck from side to side. Just the night. He was the one who had suggested it. So why was he the one with second thoughts while Becky was the one who had cleaned up so well it was like she had never even been there?
"Well, that's good." Marek sat at the station across from him. "So what is it then? Regret? Feelings in the way?"
"No. . . ." The sex was too good to regret. Maybe he would have if Becky had stormed off and vowed to never talk to him again, but that didn't seem to be the case. Feelings were another matter. He couldn't reveal too much without implicating Becky, but even just the word feelings in the current context made him uneasy. "Maybe. She was someone I knew back from the indies—after you left," he added quickly, hoping Marek wouldn't ask for a name. "We were both lonely, both single, both . . . there. It made sense. Or at least I thought it did. But then this morning, she just left like it was nothing."
Marek raised an eyebrow. "And wasn't it supposed to be nothing? I know I've been out of the game for a while, but I thought that's what one-nighter kinda meant."
Seth rubbed his beard idly, trying to focus. If he couldn't even maintain a conversation, there was no way he should be lifting heavy weights. "It is," he agreed at last, "but . . . I don't know. I guess I thought that switch wouldn't be quite so easy to flip to Off come morning."
"Caveat emptor," Marek replied as he stood. "Buyer beware. If you ask for one night, that's probably what you get. If you wanted something more, you needed to say so."
If you wanted something more. . . . His friend's rebuke rang through his head as he started his workout, but Seth knew it wasn't that simple. He and Becky had years of friendship behind them; he couldn't just jettison that in hopes of more good sex. As his workout intensified, it was harder and harder to dwell on his thoughts, which was a blessing. If only he could keep himself distracted until the next time he saw Becky.