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Chapter Text

At this point, Zack is ready to believe that he hit his head in his Forbidden Door match and has been living in a very realistic and vivid hallucination since then.

There’s just no way all of this is real.

There's just no way this is his life right now.

On Monday, Zack didn't leave Nigel's room after the frankly, ridiculously lavish breakfast Nigel had ordered for them. In fact, he and Nigel didn’t leave Nigel’s room until the evening. Zack would like to argue that they were both still pretty beat. He had wrestled two taxing matches in two days, and Nigel’s body had made him pay dearly for every match he’d forced out of it since he’d come out of retirement last year.

They barely left the bed, to be honest. They slept in each other’s arms, kissed when they were awake, explored each other’s bodies as if they had all the time in the world, and as the sun went down, Nigel sent him to his room to get dressed and then took him to a tiny vegan restaurant in town. It was fucking crowded, even for a Monday night, but when they arrived, they had, by some miracle, a reservation for a lovely and secluded table.

When the waitress had taken their orders and left them alone, Zack looked at Nigel with a raised eyebrow.

“Did you cash in a favour with your boss for this table? This place looks as if it’s booked up for months.”

Nigel looked offended.

“I’ll have you know that this is my fucking city. I don’t need an American billionaire to do anything for me in London, thank you very much.”

The food was, of course, excellent. The company was, too.

They talked about anything and everything, and when Zack mentioned incidentally that he’d never been on the London Eye, Nigel stared at him for a few moments and then excused himself from the table to make a phone call.

When they left the restaurant, they took an Uber straight to it and, what do you know, they could go up immediately, in a cabin of their own, without any other passengers, even though it was incredibly busy and the line of people waiting was very long.

“Are you taking the piss?” Zack demanded, gesturing wildly around the empty cabin. The guy who’d just explained the ride details to them had closed the door behind them, and the cabin was already starting to rise.

Nigel just grinned.

“I know one of the guys who works here. From way back. Some summer job when we were both kids who didn’t know anything but already thought we were God’s gift to the world. We’ve never lost touch, funnily enough. I got him tickets for All In last year, and he owed me a favour.”

“Oh, you’ve got to be…” Zack started to rant, but Nigel pressed a kiss to his lips to shut him up and turned him in his arms so that Zack faced the window and looked out at the breathtaking display that was London by night.

“Shut up, princess, and enjoy the view, will you?” he murmured into his ear, and Zack actually did.

They kissed with London lying at their feet, and when they returned to Nigel’s room, Zack fucked him right there next to the door because that night was certainly worthy of a reward.

He refused to think of it as a date.

The next day, they strolled through the city because Chris had texted Zack a fucking list of things to bring back for him when Zack returned to Japan.

Zack could relate. Japan might be his home now, as it was for Chris, but there were still some things they missed, and so, whenever one of them made the trip, the other asked for something, special sweets, or a tea you couldn’t get in Japan.

Zack had been to London more times than he could count, but he had to admit it was different walking through the city with someone who called it his home.

Nigel showed him corners he wouldn’t have discovered on his own and told him stories he didn’t know. When they stopped at a pub for a pint in the afternoon, Zack blew him in one of the bathroom cubicles, which was such a stupid and dumb and reckless thing to do, and something he hadn’t done since he’d turned twenty.

It was also stupidly hot, and he wished he could regret it, but he knew he would never forget the way Nigel’s thighs tensed under Zack's hands as he held him still, and the way he desperately tried to stay quiet. How he looked when he bit into his own fist to muffle his sounds, his eyes fixed on Zack in something close to wonder. And so he knew he never could.

When Wednesday morning rolled around and Zack had to get ready to catch his Uber to the airport, they didn’t talk about what these two days meant. Zack punched his number into Nigel’s phone and told him to take care of his old bones, and in return, Nigel pressed him against the wall and kissed Zack until he felt dizzy.

“Go and make me proud, princess,” he whispered against his lips.

Zack spent the whole ride to the airport wondering what Nigel had meant.

Nigel would stay in London for two more nights. He had to be in Philadelphia for Collision on Saturday, so he had booked his flight for Friday morning. He’d planned to visit family and friends during the week between Forbidden Door and his flight back for work, but when Zack asked him about it while they were exploring the city, Nigel just shrugged and said, “Plans change.”

The long flight back to Japan was never fun, and the emotional mess in Zack’s head and heart certainly didn’t help. When Zack finally got back safely to his place in Tokyo, he texted Nigel, and Nigel replied with a picture he’d taken lying in the hotel bed where they’d spent so much time, his long legs on full display and a bottle of Zack’s favourite beer in his hand. Zack stared at it until he fell asleep.

The next day, he stood in his bathroom and stared at the bruise Nigel’s hand had left on his left arm. He stared for minutes, and then he went to grab his phone, took a picture of it, and sent it over.

Nigel answered with a picture of the bite mark on his pec.

Saturday rolled around, and with it, Wrestle Peter Pan, the biggest DDT show of the year. Zack had a match with Fujita against Chris and Masada, something both he and Chris had wanted to do for ages. Zack was really looking forward to it.

He was barely through the venue's entrance when Chris took one look at him and then immediately manhandled him into the first empty room he could find. There, he stared Zack down until he finally told him everything that had happened in London.

Chris didn’t say anything until Zack finished his story, and then took him into his arms, wrapped him up in a long, and tight, and perfect hug, and pressed a kiss to his hair.

“You’re fucking gone on him, mate,” Chris whispered. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

Zack thought about Chris’s words for the rest of the day. And when he got home, he didn’t go to sleep, even though he was unbelievably tired and his body wanted nothing more than rest. Chris certainly hadn’t gone easy on him in the ring. But instead of doing the sensible thing, he booted up his laptop and watched Collision.

The moment the camera showed Nigel sitting at his commentary desk, Zack felt a stupid grin spread across his face, and he cursed into the silence of his apartment.

“Nice shirt,” he texted Nigel after he’d finished the show.

“I see you already want to kiss other pretty boys,” Nigel texted back, which meant he must have watched Zack’s match from the DDT show as well.

Zack fell asleep with a smile on his face.

And all of this has led him to this moment.

Here Zack is, pacing again, but this time in his apartment in Tokyo. He’s pacing just like he was in his hotel room a week ago. He once again doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing. His mind is a whirlwind of thoughts (again); his heart is a mess of emotions (again!).

Zack fucking hates it.

He thinks about the days they spent together in London. He thinks about the words Chris said to him. He stares at the fading bruise on his arm. He curses up a storm, and then he looks up AEW's show schedule.

He barely thinks before he grabs his phone and texts Nigel.

“Hey, you wanna meet Nagata, old man?” Zack attaches a picture of the poster for Nagata’s show, which is scheduled for the following Sunday.

Nigel calls him five minutes later.

It’s the first time they’ve talked since Zack kissed him goodbye on Wednesday.

“What do you mean, love?” Nigel says, and his voice is warm, and smooth, and perfect.

And, well. Yeah. Excellent question.

Zack would very much like to know that himself.

Because this is insane, right?

‘I've never seen you like this,’ Chris had said.

Zack takes a deep breath and barrels straight through all the voices screaming at him that this is a terrible idea.

“Next week’s Collision isn’t live. You tape it on Thursday, right? So come over after you’re done. You can fly to Tokyo, and we’ll travel together to the show on Sunday. You can go back sometime the following week for your next show in Philly.”

Nigel is silent for a long time. Zack tries not to crawl out of his skin.

“You sure about this, princess?” he finally asks, and yeah. Another very good question.

Zack knows exactly what he's asking, what he means.

Nobody flies across the ocean for a spontaneous social visit. And if Zack takes him to the show Nagata's producing on Sunday… well.

People will see. People will assume. People will talk.

And they haven’t even talked about this themselves.

And anyway, this whole idea is fucking nuts, right?

But...but.

His fucking stupid bleeding heart.

“Yeah,” he says into the phone, quietly, but with a certainty that takes him by surprise.

He has no fucking clue what this is. What it could be. But he knows he'll regret it for the rest of his life if he doesn’t find out.

Because the safe and easy thing would be to keep the days they spent together in London just as they were — to treasure them as a fond memory, something to look back on, maybe fondly, maybe with longing. Something they might talk about many years from now, asking, “What if?”

Trying to translate what they had in London into their messy, daily lives could go so horribly wrong.

And still…

And still.

Nigel takes a deep breath on the other end of the line.

“I haven’t been to Japan for more than sixteen years,” he says.

“Well, then it’s about bloody time,” Zack fires back.

Nigel laughs softly in response, and Zack thinks about how he must look in this moment—the laugh lines around his eyes pronounced, his blue eyes sparkling with curiosity, maybe even happiness.

‘I've never seen you like this,’ Chris had said.

Yeah, Zack would like to agree with his best friend. He’s never seen himself like this, either.

“I’ve a few obligations next week — let me see what I can do,” Nigel says finally, and Zack tries not to be too disappointed. Because he should have known that someone as busy, as talented as Nigel isn’t sitting around between shows, waiting for someone like Zack to fill his schedule.

“All right,” he says, his tone as steady and even as he can manage.

When he wakes up the next morning, he has a new message from Nigel. There’s no text—only a picture of his flight confirmation.

Chapter Text

Zack isn't too proud to admit that he's a nervous mess. He's at the airport, waiting for Nigel's flight to arrive. He’d promised Nigel he’d be there, to welcome him to Tokyo and drive with him to his apartment. But now, as he's at the gate where the passengers from Nigel’s flight are about to arrive, unable to stand still, unable to calm his thoughts, and watching the minutes tick by on the big clock overhead, he asks himself if he’s made a big, fucking mistake.

What if the days in London were just a tiny, perfect pocket of time after all? What if whatever it was they had existed only then, in the tiny, perfect bubble they created for themselves? What if…

But then, suddenly, Nigel stands before him, tired and rumpled from his flight, and nonetheless beautiful and breathtaking and perfect.

He takes Zack into his arms, and when Zack smells his aftershave and feels his strong arms around him, it’s as if he can breathe for the first time in days.

“I missed you, princess,” Nigel whispers into his hair, and just like that, all the doubt is gone. Zack is surprised by the bone-deep certainty he now feels. But he simply knows. He knows that he’s made the right choice.

He presses a quick, tiny kiss to the corner of Nigel’s mouth before he steps back.

“Welcome to Tokyo, old man,” Zack says, and he knows he must be grinning like a bloody fool, but sue him.

Nigel is really here. He's really standing in front of Zack here, in Tokyo, Japan, and Zack…well. He’s just fucking happy.

Nigel is beat from the long flight, but they both know he needs to stay awake for a few more hours to battle the jet lag, so Zack takes him to one of his favourite restaurants after dropping off Nigel’s luggage at his apartment.

(Well. After they drop off Nigel’s luggage and spend at least ten minutes snogging right there by the door. Zack insists, rather forcefully, that they need to get going now — or they won’t leave the place at all. As soon as he shuts the door behind them, he regrets his firmness. How badly do they need to eat, really?)

Tokyo has been Zack’s home for years, and as they walk through the city, he asks himself if Nigel felt the same way when they walked through London as he does now, with Nigel looking around in wonder, and Zack telling him little bits of stories and facts and pointing out this place or that.

At the restaurant, they’re greeted by Maiko, the owner. Zack has known her for years. After she seats them, Maiko tells him she’ll look after their table herself tonight. Zack is immediately suspicious.

But the food is excellent as always, and Zack is practically glowing at the praise Nigel heaps on this place that’s so dear to his heart.

Finally, when their plates are cleared, Maiko brings them new drinks. As she puts the glasses on the table, she says to Zack in Japanese, “He’s very handsome.”

Zack laughs in surprise, caught off guard.

“Yeah, he is,” he agrees.

Maiko gives Nigel a blinding smile and hums in thought before she speaks again.

“You look at him as if he makes your heart sing. I am happy for you.”

And, well.

Zack isn’t someone who blushes easily, but Maiko looks and sounds so earnest, so genuine, and this conversation is so unexpected that it renders him speechless for a moment.

He stares up at her, at a complete loss for words, but Maiko just smiles and lets her hand briefly rest on his shoulder. Then, after a short bow to Nigel, she leaves them alone again.

Nigel, who was watching the whole exchange curiously.

“You two done gossiping like old ladies?” he asks when they're alone again.

Zack looks at him. At the small, teasing smile playing on his lips, the curious spark in his eyes, and debates lying. But really, what’s the point? Nigel flew halfway around the world simply because Zack asked him to. He deserves more than a flippant retort.

Zack clears his throat and looks Nigel straight in the eye.

“She complimented me on my handsome date,” he says.

Nigel laughs, but when he sees that Zack is serious, his eyes widen.

“What, really?”

Zack nods.

“I thought the Japanese were far too polite to say something like that,” Nigel says, and Zack nods again.

“You’re right. But Maiko and I have known each other for years. I’m here almost once a week. She’s seen me find my way in this city, has seen me grow. I think she feels a little responsible for me,” he admits, and Nigel laughs again, this time in disbelief.

“There’s nothing scarier than a friendly-looking elderly Japanese lady,” he says. “If I fuck this up, I’ll be dead in a ditch by the end of the week.”

Zack grins, and because this restaurant almost feels like home and the lights are dim and he really, really wants to, he reaches out and grabs Nigel’s hand on the table.

“Well, then I fear you have no choice but just not to do that, right?” he says, quietly and far more sincere than he intended.

Nigel watches him for a few moments, countless emotions in his eyes, and then he raises their hands to his lips and presses a kiss to Zack’s knuckles.

When Zack and Maiko’s eyes meet again later, she smiles wider than he’s ever seen before.

It’s late by the time they return to Zack’s apartment, and Nigel looks ready to fall asleep where he stands.

Zack leads him to the bedroom, and as soon as they're under the covers, he snuggles into his arms.

It’s laughable how much he missed this.

The feeling of Nigel's skin against his own, his scent in his nose, the way his hands trace circles into Zack's back.

“Princess, I promise you everything you could ever want after I get a few hours of sleep,” Nigel murmurs before pressing a soft kiss to Zack’s lips.

“And you know I'm a man of my word.”

And…not that Zack's worried, but.

Well.

Nigel absolutely is.

Zack wakes up to the feeling of getting his cock expertly sucked. Nigel's working him over as if he's on a fucking mission, and Zack has no hope of getting any of his brain cells online before he comes down Nigel's throat.

He’s actually quite proud of himself because he remembers to muffle his shouts and moans into his pillow. Japanese walls aren’t exactly renowned for their soundproofing, after all, and he’d like to be able to continue looking his neighbours in the eye. He likes living in this apartment, you know?

While Zack tries to catch his breath and process what the hell is going on, Nigel makes himself comfortable on his thighs and starts to open himself up with the lube he so very casually liberated from the drawer of Zack's bedside table.

The lazy grin he gives Zack leaves no doubt that he's really pleased with himself.

"Morning, love," Nigel drawls, and all Zack can manage in response is something between a moan and a whine. But he really wants to see anyone doing better when confronted with this sight.

(Actually, no. Scratch that. Because the thought of anyone else seeing Nigel like this — gloriously naked with his eyebrows drawn together in concentration and his mouth slack with pleasure as he gets himself ready to take Zack's cock — unleashes a jealousy so fierce that it takes Zack by surprise.

He doesn't consider himself a jealous person. He's usually relaxed and not overly possessive. But he also doesn't usually ask a guy he's hooked up with to fly out to Tokyo for him, so maybe he has to accept that nothing about the whole thing with Nigel is normal.)

Zack can't stop staring at Nigel's dick. It's dripping with precum and looks painfully hard and Zack almost laughs at himself when he realises that this is the moment when he regains his ability to speak.

"You know you could also fuck me if you want," he rasps. Because he wouldn't be opposed to the idea of feeling Nigel inside him. Quite the opposite, actually.

But Nigel shakes his head.

"Can't have you limping around the ring today, princess," he says as he takes Zack's cock in his hand. It's embarrassing that it takes only a few strokes for him to be completely hard and ready to go again, and Nigel grins knowingly as he puts a condom on Zack before he starts to sink down.

It takes Zack a frankly ridiculous amount of time to realise that what Nigel just said is utter nonsense.

"The show's tomorrow, mate," he manages to gasp.

Nigel has the fucking audacity to look surprised, which is quite a feat for someone currently taking a dick up his arse.

"Oh, really?" he says, looking all wide-eyed and innocent. "Silly me. Must be the jet lag. Got me all confused."

Zack has quite a few things to say to this, but just as he opens his mouth Nigel starts to move, slowly and sensually and fucking perfect, and all Zack can do is throw an arm over his eyes and moan, and resign himself to the fate of being at Nigel's mercy.

"That's it, princess. There you go," Nigel purrs, and Zack loves him and hates him and isn’t sure he could ever live without him again.

Chapter Text

Nagata’s show is in Chiba, about an hour away on the Sobu Line. Normally, Zack would meet up with some of the other wrestlers and make the journey together, but today he’s decided they should travel alone.

He really is excited for today. To be honest, Zack’s been in an incredibly good mood ever since he saw Nigel at the airport. The fact that Nigel is really here, that he really made the trip to Japan, that Zack gets to spend time with him in the place he calls his home, has practically glued a big, stupid smile to his face. Nigel, on the other hand, has seemed a bit tense ever since they left Zack's apartment this morning.

“Did you tell them that I would be here today?” he asks Zack as they make their way to the venue’s entrance.

“I texted Tanahashi, and he said he would be overjoyed to have you here,” Zack says.

Nigel told him he’d met Tanahashi at Forbidden Door for the first time, that they’d managed to snatch a few minutes to talk, and had hit it off right away.

Zack thought their paths might have crossed during their time at Ring of Honor, but when Tanahashi had his matches there, Nigel had already retired. It amazes him to no end that Nigel came back into the ring after twelve years and that it seems as if he never left.

As soon as they step through the doors, Tanahashi’s there to greet them — and that’s when Zack starts to suspect this won’t be the low-key visit he imagined.

Tanahashi is ridiculously busy on show days, and today he’ll wrestle the main event as well. But here the president of New Japan is, welcoming Nigel as if he’s an honoured guest, thanking him for being there, and assuring him that whatever he wants or needs, he can just ask.

Nigel is a little wide-eyed, but Zack’s jaw is on the fucking floor. He’s thankful that Nigel’s able to handle the conversation with grace and modesty, because he’s not sure what would’ve come out of his own mouth.

When they step into the backstage area, everyone falls silent. All the guys there look at them.
Zack gives a short greeting and goes to drop his bag, acting as if it’s totally not a big deal, as if it’s not completely unexpected that freaking Nigel McGuinness is backstage at a Blue Justice show. When he turns back, Moloney and Connors are already at Nigel’s side.

They’d met at Forbidden Door as well, and both look as if they can’t believe they’ve got the chance to question a legend again. Zack figures it’s only Japanese politeness that makes the other young guys hold back a bit longer, but soon, Nigel’s swarmed by half the roster.

Even Fujita, who’s trained with Zack for more than two years now, stands at his side, staring at Nigel as if he wants to ask for an autograph.

Zack rolls his eyes and gives him a little nudge.

“Go on,” he says. “Say hello. He won’t bite.”

Fujita gives him a grateful nod and joins the cluster of wrestlers surrounding Nigel in no time.

Zack stands to the side and watches the commotion, utterly fascinated. Nigel had thrown him a short, panicked glance when the first Japanese wrestlers joined Connors and Moloney, but now he’s fully immersed in the conversation, trying to keep up with all the chatter around him.

Zack doesn’t even realise he’s not alone anymore until someone nudges his arm.

“I didn’t know you had it in you,” Finlay says, and when Zack looks over, he gives Zack a dirty grin.

Zack scoffs and really hopes his ears aren’t red.

“Oh, sod off,” he says, but Finlay grips his arm to keep him from stepping away.

“Hey,” he says, and his voice is serious now, his eyes earnest.

“I’ve never met him, but my dad talks about Nigel as if he’s God’s gift to the world of wrestling or something. If only half the stuff my old man says is true… well.”

Zack is still debating how to handle a serious David Finlay when the other man’s expression turns sly again.

“Of course, if only half the locker-room talk is true as well… you sure are a very lucky man.”

Zack decides to take the grown-up route and answers by elbowing Finlay in the ribs. Hard.

Finlay just laughs.

“No, seriously, I’m happy for you. You need someone who doesn’t take any of your shit, and I really can’t think of anyone more qualified for the job.”

After the conversation with Finlay, Zack decides he needs a few minutes alone, so he changes into his workout clothes and bemoans the fact that Nigel was so careful not to leave any marks on his skin last night. But as much as he wants to be annoyed, the teasing he had to endure from Chris because of the bruise on his arm will last him a lifetime. His gear surely doesn't provide much cover. He finds himself a place to start warming up. This is where Nigel finds him later, still looking wide-eyed. 

“I might have agreed to an impromptu training session before the show. Or bought a new washing machine. It's hard to say, to be honest,” he says.

“I tried to tell them I didn’t have any workout clothes with me, but then at least ten people offered me theirs — even though they’re all at least twenty centimetres shorter than me.”

Zack laughs.

“I can lend you some of mine. But you should clear this with Nagata. It’s his show, after all.”

“Yeah, I already spoke with Nagata,” Nigel answers, still looking as if he can’t quite believe what’s happened since they stepped through the front doors. Zack can relate.

“Or Nagata spoke with me, more like it. He almost insisted I do it.”

Nigel shakes his head.

“He’s an absolute legend. And he talked to me as if I were somehow on his level.”

Zack steps closer, glances around to make sure they’re alone, and presses a short but meaningful kiss to his lips.

“It pains me to say this, but you absolutely are. You’ve done so much for this sport.”

Nigel shakes his head again.

“I’m old news, princess. And then I come here, to fucking Japan, and young wrestlers know me, have seen tapes of my old matches, ask me about this move or that.”

He stares at Zack with a suspicious look.

“Did you tell them I would be here?” he asks, and Zack laughs, shaking his head.

“Nope. Totally innocent. You’d better accept your status as a role model.”

Nigel sighs, but after a moment, he gathers Zack into his arms and holds him tight.

“You’re certainly something, love. You don’t do things halfway, do you?”

And yeah. Zack would love to claim this. That he thought about this, all of this, that he made this decision and followed through, no matter what. And to some extent, this might be the case.

But the truth, if he’s honest, is that sometimes Zack just doesn’t think things through.

Like when he knocked on Nigel’s door in the middle of the night.

Or when he just didn’t leave the next day.

Or when he asked him to fly to Japan, and then brought him to meet every single wrestler at his place of work.

And sometimes, he pays dearly for his impulsive decisions.

But this time, he's pretty sure he won’t.

He grins and presses another kiss to Nigel’s lips.

“Come on, old man. You’d better get changed and warmed up if you don’t want to embarrass yourself in front of the kids.”

After that, the whole day seems to fly by.

When Nigel steps into the ring, almost the whole roster is there, and Zack is only too happy to join him, translate when necessary, or demonstrate a move or two. The younger wrestlers are glowing with excitement at the opportunity, and even the veterans are too curious to stay away.

Zack would love to believe he doesn’t look like a lovesick fool the whole time, but the knowing looks Taichi and Finlay keep giving him tell another story.

But how should he even stand a chance?

Nigel’s in his element in the ring. He’s so damn skilled, and he's generous with his knowledge. He's witty and funny, and he might not speak Japanese, but he knows the universal language of wrestling like the back of his hand.

Zack can’t take his eyes off him.

When they have to clear the ring, with the doors set to open soon, Zack drags him into a vacant room and closes the door. As soon as the lock clicks, he sinks to his knees and gets to work on the string of Nigel’s borrowed workout shorts.

“Hey, hey, slow down,” Nigel protests. “Have you gone mad? There are people running around behind this door all the time.”

“Well, then you'd better be quiet, won’t you?” Zack quips, and tugs down the shorts and Nigel’s briefs and swallows him down at once.

Nigel makes a choked, shocked sound, and when Zack looks up with his lips sealed around his dick, he sees Nigel staring down at him.

“Oh, you will be the death of me, princess,” Nigel mutters, which Zack takes as his cue to get to work in earnest. Nigel lets his head fall back against the door and closes his eyes. His hand finds its way into Zack’s hair.

“But what a way to go.”

Chapter Text

Showering with Nigel in a public place has to count as a new form of torture, Zack decides very quickly. But there’s no way around it, they’re both in dire need of one after their time in the ring and their spontaneous little tryst afterwards, and so off to the shower they go.

But keeping his eyes and hands to himself because someone could come in at any moment fucking sucks, and the knowing looks Nigel keeps sending his way aren't exactly helping either.

As soon as they’re done and back in the changing room, a Young Lion whisks Nigel away while Zack changes into his gear. The kid apologises and bows so much that Zack almost fears he’s going to give himself whiplash, but apparently the president himself wishes to speak to Nigel, and would it be possible for their honoured guest to find the time?

And, well, who are they to refuse Hiroshi Tanahashi?

Zack doesn’t see Nigel again until the show starts. He actually has to wander around backstage to find him. When he does, Nigel is sitting in Gorilla, headset on, talking animatedly with the people responsible for running the show and, of course, Tanahashi, who’s also already in his gear.

When he spots Zack, he sends him a quick, blinding smile before his attention is drawn back to one of the monitors.

“You should have seen the looks on Stewart’s and Charlton’s faces when they saw him. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t have my phone with me to take a picture. It was fucking hilarious.”

Zack turns around and sees Robbie standing there, a shit-eating grin on his face. He prepares himself for more sly comments and needling, but Robbie just looks at him for a few moments and then gives him one of his rare, honest smiles.

“I’m not going to ask. You clearly believe this is something that’s worth it; otherwise, you wouldn’t have brought him here. But I want you to know that I’m here for you, if you ever want or need to talk. Anytime. I know first hand how much the distance can suck.”

It’s rare to see this serious side of Robbie. Zack needs a moment to process the care in Robbie’s voice, in his eyes, and then he grabs his shoulder for a short, grateful squeeze.

“Yeah. Thanks, mate. I appreciate it,” he says.

Robbie nods, and then he grins.

“So, tell me, are the rumours true? The ones that made the rounds in every locker room in Europe and America before he retired?“

Zack groans and cuffs him over the head.

“I hate you all,” he mutters, and Robbie laughs, clearly delighted.

“I hear no denial,” he sing-songs, and then dances out of the way when Zack swats at him again.

It's been a long day, and Zack is pretty tired and worn out when he finally unlocks the door to his apartment late at night.

That is, until Nigel suddenly speaks up behind him, all casual and innocent:

“Hey, you want to fuck with your belt on, or are you kids not doing this anymore these days?”

Zack stands there and feels as if all his thoughts have come crashing to a halt in the blink of an eye. He stares at Nigel as this menace of a man steps around his frozen body and practically saunters into his apartment. And all the tiredness he was feeling just a few seconds ago is gone, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Yeah. There were times when Zack fucked someone while wearing a title belt. But he hasn’t done it in years, hasn’t even thought about it in forever. Maybe not since he came to Japan.

But now that Nigel has said it, there isn’t a single thing Zack can think of that he wants to do more. He stands there, staring at the door, staring in the direction Nigel went — presumably straight to the bedroom, if Zack knows him at all by now — and he curses quietly.

"You brought this on yourself. You have no one to blame but yourself," he mutters into the dark and empty hall, and then he closes the door, takes the title belt out of his bag, and follows Nigel to take him up on his promise.

Because fuck being exhausted and being in dire need of sleep. Such insignificant things can wait.

It’s so surreal to have Nigel here.

There have been so many moments when Zack has thought this over the last few days. When they were at his favourite restaurant or at Nagata’s show, when they roamed the city, or met Chris for drinks in one of his favourite bars.

Every time there came a moment when Zack looked at Nigel — while he was training with some of the wrestlers in the ring, or trying one of Zack’s favourite dishes at the restaurant, or laughing so hard at something Chris said that he almost toppled his drink — when Zack couldn’t help but think:

“How the fuck are you even here right now?”

He’s thinking the same thing now. Nigel is lying in Zack’s bed, sleeping in the city he hadn’t been to for more than sixteen years, but flew to just because Zack asked him to, no hesitation, no questions asked.

Zack stares at him, at his pretty face lax with sleep, his bare torso, and the place where Zack put the bruise over his heart. It’s healed now, of course, but Zack still thinks he can see a trace of it.

Tomorrow, Nigel will leave again. Tomorrow, Nigel will leave, and a new, demanding New Japan schedule will start for Zack. A long tour with shows in countless cities, a tour that will take him all over the country, a tour that will go on for weeks, and what will happen then?

Zack didn’t last a week before he asked Nigel to fly out to Tokyo. How the fuck is he supposed to cope now, after he knows what it's like to have him here, to fall asleep in his arms every night?

He doesn’t think he’s moved a muscle, but apparently Zack’s thoughts are fucking loud, because suddenly Nigel is looking at him. His eyes are barely open, and he looks more asleep than awake. But Nigel still seems to know exactly what’s going on, because after a few moments, he sighs and tugs Zack close until his head is pillowed on Nigel’s chest. Then he runs his fingers through Zack’s hair and down his back.

"Sleep, love. We’ll figure it out," Nigel murmurs, his voice thick with sleep.

Zack doesn’t ask how Nigel knew what he was thinking about or why he couldn’t sleep. He just lets himself be soothed to sleep by Nigel’s soft touches and decides to believe him.

Chapter Text

The second leg of the Destruction tour takes place entirely in Hokkaido, and Nigel actually flies out once again for a few days. They have to travel from town to town because Zack has two shows while he’s there, but it’s actually quite nice. 

Tanahashi is surprisingly accommodating, and as long as Zack is at the venue when he needs to be, he’s fine with his reigning champion travelling alone and not on the company's bus. And so Zack rents a car, and he and Nigel drive together through the countryside.

Zack has been to Hokkaido quite a few times, but almost always on tour with New Japan. And the thing is, when you’re being driven around on a tour bus, you tend to sleep through the travel time. Now, he relishes being able to discover the island with Nigel by his side.

He can’t quite remember when he last had this much fun on travel days on tour. Most of the time, when he shows up somewhere, he’s surrounded by his Japanese friends and colleagues, and so no one bats an eye at his fluent Japanese.

But now, he and Nigel speak English when they enter a restaurant or a store or visit some sights, and everyone assumes they’re two British tourists who’ve somehow ended up this far north. The look on people’s faces once Zack addresses them in flawless Japanese is priceless. And the obvious delight Nigel doesn't even bother to hide every time he does it is even better.

“I guess I should download one of those language apps the kids on the roster use all the time,” Nigel remarks after one of the waitresses says something to Zack that turns his ears bright red.

(And really, it’s getting out of hand. Zack knows Nigel is laughably attractive, but he does not understand why he gets flustered every fucking time someone comments on it. He hasn’t blushed this much in the last eight years as he has since Forbidden Door, and he does not care for it.)

“Can’t have you gossiping everywhere we go without me understanding even a smidge.”

“I hear learning a new language is good for keeping your brain from getting old,” Zack offers with the most innocent smile, and then dodges the napkin Nigel throws at him.

It’s only later that he realises what Nigel’s casual remark implies. Because the only reason Nigel would need to learn Japanese is if he plans to keep visiting Zack.

And this shouldn’t be such a shocking discovery, since Nigel has already flown to Japan twice in the span of a month, but… it somehow still is.

Nigel accompanies Zack to the first show, and while the roster is still starstruck, they give him a bit more space this time. Apparently, he gave a bunch of wrestlers tips on which old matches they should look up, and they’re all eager to discuss what they’ve watched.

When Nigel tells Zack about it, he sounds genuinely surprised.

“They actually watched what I recommended to them. And they paid attention? Can you fucking believe it?”

He says it with such bewilderment that Zack laughs and presses a kiss to his cheek because no one’s there to see.

“I don’t know why you’re surprised. They look up to you. And you took your time to give them tips, so of course they’re eager to show you they followed your advice.”

During the second show, Nigel opts to stay in their hotel room, preparing for the Collision show he has to call on Saturday. As far as Zack knows, Nigel cleared both of his trips to Japan with Tony Khan. He told his boss he’d be unavailable during that time to film something, so they would’ve to do it before his trip. But, of course, he’ll always be reachable on his phone.

Zack doesn’t know whether Nigel told him why he made the trips. But even if he didn’t, Zack knows how frequently Tony and Tanahashi talk, so he suspects Nigel’s boss has at least an idea where his favourite colour commentator’s sudden interest in Japan comes from. But he also knows the man would never say anything that isn’t his to share, and so Zack trusts that whatever it is they have is safe from being dragged out into the open just yet.

New Japan has a show on the same day that the first Collision after Nigel leaves Japan airs, so Zack doesn’t see it immediately. He knows something has happened, though, because when he looks at his phone after finally making it to his hotel room for the night, it’s completely blown up with messages - not only from his friends and colleagues in Japan, but also from people he knows who work at AEW.

He almost doesn’t want to read any of them. He scrolls through the notifications and finally stops and stares at the long line of exclamation marks Chris has sent him (and nothing else), and then he takes a deep breath and opens his laptop.

Zack scrolls until he finds the replay of today's Collision, and then decides he needs some liquid courage for whatever he’s about to see. He grabs a beer from the minibar, takes a deep breath, and hits play.

And there Nigel is. He's sitting behind his commentary desk, and he looks so beautiful as he grins into the camera that Zack almost can't stand it…If his eyes weren’t glued to the fucking Zack Sabre Jr. shirt Nigel is wearing under his jacket.

What the actual fuck.

Zack can’t stop staring.

It’s an old thing, soft and worn. Not one of his recent New Japan designs, but one of the shirts he used to sell himself at the merch table when he still mostly wrestled in Europe. And that was a long time ago. A long time before he moved to Japan, too.

And because of this, most people watching might not recognise the design. But the bold lettering makes it quite fucking clear that Nigel McGuinness is wearing a Zack Sabre Jr. shirt live on American TV.

On top of that, Zack’s also willing to bet quite a lot of money that this is the same fucking shirt he hasn’t been able to find since Nigel kissed him goodbye two days ago. Well. At least now he knows where that one ended up.

He watches the whole show, but later he couldn’t have told you anything about the matches. Or segments. Or interviews. His thoughts are a fucking mess.

Because this…

What the fuck is this?

Is this Nigel’s way of reciprocating Zack’s gesture of inviting him to Japan, of asking him if he would come again, of taking him to the shows, and going out for drinks with his friends?

Because sure, they haven’t talked about it — about any of it. Neither of them has ever spoken the words out loud. But even though Zack didn’t think it through beforehand, in the time since London, he’s made it quite fucking clear that he was serious. About Nigel, about them, about whatever it is they have, and whatever it is it could be.

He took Nigel to his favourite places; he took him to his shows. He introduced him to everyone who matters in his life in Japan, and he made it clear he didn’t care who knew about them.

And now, Nigel…Nigel…

Holy fuck.

Zack grabs his phone.

“Are you the fuck insane,” he texts him.

Nigel replies within seconds.

“Relax, princess. People only see what they want to see.”

Zack hates him. But he hates it even more that he’s right.

Because when he rewatches the show later, after cursing up a storm and fetching himself a second beer, he realises that nobody acknowledges the shirt Nigel is wearing - not he himself, not his colleagues at the commentary desk, not the wrestlers.

The dirt sheets, of course, write about it. But their conclusions are ridiculous. They speculate about a rematch, or maybe an alliance between them against a maybe returning Bryan Danielson, because isn’t he their common enemy, the thorn in their side?

Every new article is more far-fetched than the last one.

Chris has a fucking field day sending Zack screenshots of the best ones, accompanied by rows and rows of emojis.

“I fucking hate you,” Zack texts Nigel two days later, and attaches one of the articles. In this one, they claim Nigel wore the shirt because he lost a bet.

“I miss you too, princess,” Nigel writes back.

Zack isn’t even completely awake when Finlay drops into the seat next to him on the bus two or three days later.

They haven’t talked since Nigel pulled the shirt stunt, but Zack has seen the delighted grins Finlay has thrown his way every chance he gets.

Now Zack just glares at him, and thankfully Finlay doesn’t say anything for the first part of their journey. Zack almost thinks he’ll get out of this unscathed when Finlay suddenly speaks.

“It’s kind of genius when you think about it,” he says.

When Zack doesn’t say anything and just stares at him warily, Finlay rolls his eyes and continues.

“What he did. With the shirt. Whenever you decide to visit him, and you’re backstage at a show, even if it gets out, everyone will speculate about a possible match. A rematch for Forbidden Door, or a tag together, or what have you. But nobody will question why you’re there. You don’t have to come up with a reason, because he already provided one."

Finlay looks genuinely impressed.

"He set the narrative, and he did it without saying a single word. It’s as simple as its genius.”

Zack stares at Finlay as if he had just told him he wants to dye his hair pink.

Finlay just smiles and nudges his shoulder.

“That man? He's a fucking keeper. Don’t fuck this up, mate.”

Then he gets up and goes over to Moloney, dropping into the seat next to him as casually as if he hadn’t just dropped a fucking bomb on Zack’s head. Zack is grateful they still have a few hours left to drive. He has all the time in the world to freak the fuck out in peace, and he intends to make the most of it, thank you very much.

The thing is, the longer Zack thinks about it, the more he realises Finlay is right. And he really can’t decide if he’s in awe of the way Nigel’s brain works, or if he wants to grab him and shake him and yell at him for taking this risk. If he wants to kiss or punch his stupid face.

He also comes to the realisation that this is something he’ll have to get used to when it comes to this man. But call him crazy and reckless and all the names under the sun — Zack doesn’t mind. He really doesn’t mind, and he can’t believe how thoroughly Nigel has turned his life upside down since the moment Zack knocked on his hotel room door after their match at Forbidden Door.

But here he is. Smitten and giddy and curious to see what other tricks Nigel has up his sleeve.

And in the meantime…well. Two can play this game, right?

And so Zack hits poor SHO with a Tower of London during their match the very next day.

“Cheeky bitch,” Nigel texts him that evening.

“Also, Tony asked me to send you his love. He wants you to know that you are always welcome at our shows. Anytime.”

Zack grins. He’s pretty sure he’ll take Tony Khan up on his offer sooner rather than later.