Fandom: All Elite Wrestling
Rating: 18+
Pairing: Luchasaurus+Christian Cage/Nick Wayne
Additional Tags: Rape, Winner's Room, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Loss Of Virginity, Disassociation
Summary: Nick has to take the fall when Darby's too hurt to hold up his end of a bargain, and has a terrible first time in the Winner's Room.
Original Date Of Publication: September 11, 2023
Notes: An AEW Kinkmeme prompt fill.
"Darby didn't tell you he asked for the Winner's Room? That's pretty cruel."
"I don't even know what that means."
Christian sighs and shakes his head.
"Jesus Christ. You really don't have anybody looking out for you. They don't put it in the employee handbook in case somebody decides to put it on the internet... Darby should have explained this to you. He knew it'd fall to you if he was too hurt to do it."
Darby agreed to an extra stipulation, and didn't say a word to him? Even if he wasn't responsible in his place, he should have told him. At least, he should have told him it exists at all. That's... Something Nick will have to talk to him about later, if they're gonna stick together. For now, he can't let him down. He crosses his arms, tries to hide his nerves.
"What was he supposed to do? What do I have to do?"
"On any title match, either side can propose a Winner's Room stipulation. And if both of them agree, then the winner gets the loser as an extra prize," Christian explains.
Nick's heart sinks. "Prize?"
Christian chuckles and pats him on the shoulder, instantly making his skin crawl.
"You're a smart boy. I think you know what I mean."
That's exactly the problem. This can't be legal, can it? Nick didn't sign anything. It's not like he's Darby's official manager, it was just a spur of the moment thing. If Darby wants to put his body on the line like that, that's his own business, but he can't rope somebody else into it without even telling them, right?
"What if I say no?"
Luchasaurus growls. Christian raises a hand to silence him.
"Hey. I'm not a monster, Nick. We may not see eye-to-eye, I may not agree with the company you keep, but if Darby's not gonna look out for you, I will. You can walk away, that's fine..."
Nick relaxes. He almost sighs in relief, but holds it back.
"... But you should know, Darby won't be able to challenge for the TNT title again."
His breath leaves him in a gasp anyway. "What?"
Christian shrugs. "It's the rules of the Winner's Room. If Darby or his assistant-- you-- back out, then he'll have to wait for somebody else to beat Luchasaurus, and then challenge him for the belt. But I'm sure he'll understand, right? He won't mind waiting a few years for somebody to get a lucky pin on an off day. There's nothing wrong with looking out for yourself."
A few years. Looking at Luchasaurus, seeing him fight... That's not hard to imagine. Darby takes a beating and keeps fighting better than anyone Nick's ever seen, and even he couldn't stand up to him. He's passed out in medical, stitched and bandaged and iced. The first thing he'll hear when he wakes up with fresh fire in his veins, ready to get back to his feet and fight again... Is that he can't. Because Nick took that away from him. Because Nick let him down. Because Nick wasn't strong enough. Because Nick only cared about himself.
He takes a deep breath.
"I'll do it."
Luchasaurus growls again, softer this time. Approving. Christian smiles and rests a hand in the middle of Nick's back.
"Atta boy. Let's go."
He's doing this for Darby. He has to do this for Darby. Darby would do the same for him.
Right?
Christian's hand stays on his waist, heavy and searing like a brand, making Nick feel owned as he's led down the hall. Luchasaurus tails behind them, and he can feel his eyes burning into his back, too. Hear him making quiet, impatient, animal noises. He swallows his racing heart and keeps walking stiffly, any confidence or swagger gone from his gait. Less for the monster to look at and salivate over. Nick may be trapped prey, but he's not gonna present himself as a meal to him.
At the end of the hall, so far that the roar of the crowd easily fades into the background, is a door with a paper sign duct-taped to it.
"W . R"
It opens into darkness. Nick hesitates a step, but Christian ushers him in. He hits a lightswitch on the way, and the room revealed puts some of Nick's fears at ease. It just looks like a normal dressing room. He'd expected more chains and straps. There's just a couch, a little vanity, a couple duffel bags... Nothing scary, except for the dinosaur pushing past and clamping a hand around the back of his neck to drag him further into the room.
"Hey!" Christian snaps at him like a dog. "Play nice. No marks, no injuries. He's still gotta be able to walk when you're done with him."
Nick looks back at him. He lingers at the doorway. He doesn't stop Luchasaurus from pushing him around, but when he raises his voice the claws in his skin ease up. Luchasaurus huffs as he takes a seat on the couch, manhandling Nick to his knees in front of him. As soon as he starts to unbuckle his belt, Christian steps out.
"Text me when you're done. I'm going to catering."
"W-wait! Don't..." Nick bites his lip, fighting back tears and the fear welling in his chest. Normally, asking someone like Christian for help would be the last thing he'd want to do. Compared to being left totally alone at the mercy of a homicidal dinosaur, though, it easily takes second place.
"Can you stay?"
Christian taps his fingers on the doorframe.
"You want me to watch?"
Nick's face burns.
"No. I just..." Things are already about as bad as they can be. His situation can't get any worse by telling the truth.
"... I'm scared."
His voice comes out so soft, he's not even sure if Christian heard him. He doesn't respond. But after a moment, the door shuts and locks, and his footsteps cross the room. He turns the chair at the vanity around and takes a seat.
"Don't worry," he soothes Nick. "I'll look out for you."
At least somebody will.
While Nick was having his moment of panic, Luchasaurus had grown impatient. He turns Nick's head, and he finds himself staring down the biggest cock he's ever seen in person. Honestly, even porn falls short. Nick's stomach twists. Christian leans forward in his chair.
"Start with your hand. It's just like jerking yourself off."
Nick doesn't really get to make the choice for himself. Luchasaurus takes his hand from where it was resting on his knee and wraps it around his shaft. It's not like his own at all. It's thicker and longer. There's a bulging vein running up the side that Nick can feel on every stroke. Maybe it's the circumstances, maybe it's just that he wants to run as far away as possible, but it's all just... Grotesque. Luchasaurus guides him with wordless grunts and nods. A squeeze to his shoulder until he squeezes his cock a little tighter. Claws in his hair until he leans in closer, and...
He can't will himself to unclench his jaw. Luchasaurus growls and shoves the fat head of his dick against Nick's lips, smearing them with precum. Nick whimpers.
"Hey, what did I say?" Christian warns Luchasaurus. "You're scaring him, let go. Put your hands behind your head or something."
Luchasaurus growls again, but Christian fixes him with a steely glare until he obeys. Nick doesn't understand how Christian can control a monster like that, but he's extremely grateful. His voice is softer when he speaks to him.
"You can still leave anytime you want. It's not your title on the line."
No, it's not. Just one of the most important people in his life. The reason he's made it this far. The reason he had a contract waiting for him. So no, he can't just leave. He has to work up some saliva in his suddenly-dry mouth, force his mouth open, squeeze his eyes shut and get it over with. He licks over the smooth head of Luchasaurus' cock, and there's a bead of precum just waiting for him. Warm salt spreads across his tongue, and he almost gags. It's not even the taste, he just tastes like skin and sweat and salt, maybe a little bitter. It's the thought, what he's doing. What he's about to do. He wishes he'd paid more attention when he'd had a girlfriend who sucked him off a couple times when her parents weren't home. He doesn't even know if she was "good" at it, but he's out in the deep end without a life vest. As soon as he tries to actually go down on Luchasaurus, Christian clears his throat to catch his attention.
"Put your lips over your teeth," he instructs.
Nick doesn't even want to do this at all, and now he's embarrassed that he doesn't know how. He glances over, and just barely catches Christian adjusting his dick in his pants, before he crosses his legs and straightens up. Trying to look unaffected and only interested in supporting him. He's giving him tips so he can watch the show.
"Use your hand like an extension of your mouth-- yeah, like that. You learn quick, don't you?"
The praise makes Nick sick. He doesn't want to learn. He could have happily gone his whole life without knowing what it feels like-- what it tastes like-- to kneel between a man's legs and suck his cock while somebody else watches and commentates. It's not like he's never heard jokes about wrestlers selling their bodies, but he never wanted it to be so true. Who else knew and didn't tell him? Maybe this is a hazing thing. Welcome to the big time, kid, get used to choking on the better man's dick when he beats you. Luchasaurus is good about keeping his hands off, but he still bucks his hips now and then, seemingly anytime Nick starts to zone out. Just to knock him back to presence and keep him from getting comfortable. Every time, he gags, and Luchasaurus grunts as his throat contracts around his tip. And this, Christian allows him to do. He never scolds him for it.
"If you swallow around it, you can take him deeper. You'll get used to it."
Shut up. Stop saying that. Stop telling me what I can do, I don't WANT to! I don't want to get used to it, I shouldn't BE here!
Nick is screaming in his head, but all that comes out is a weak sob, punched from his chest. Christian's little tips don't even work. They can't help him handle the frankly giant length fucking his face. His jaw aches horribly, wedged open as wide as it can go. Just a hole. His lips and throat are sore. Unshed tears burn his eyes and sting in his nose. Just a pitiful, whining hole, drooling down his chin and chest and fruitlessly trying to hold a musclebound dinosaur's hips down while he comes in his mouth. Nick gags at the taste, the hot, slimy, phlegm-y texture, and pulls off as soon as the first shot hits his tongue. The next two land across his face. The final dribble oozes down over his fingers. He jerks his hand back too, like he's been burned, and scrubs it clean on his tights.
"First time?" Christian chuckles.
Nick bows his head, fighting back tears again. It shouldn't have been. He didn't have any fairytale fantasies of a magical first time, but it shouldn't have been like this, at least.
"I'm surprised. A cute face like that in this business? You could have any booker wrapped around your finger."
Luchasaurus pulls Nick up into his lap by his wrist. He doesn't bother fighting. One clawed hand gropes his ass, and the other holds his hair and turns his head from side to side. Luchasaurus rumbles as he inspects his work, apparently satisfied with the crude stripes of cum across his skin. Nick's skin crawls as a long, forked tongue snakes from his mouth and collects it all.
"I'm sure Luchasaurus will enjoy being the first to make use of that cute body, too."
Just when Nick thought his heart couldn't drop any lower. He shakes his head and pushes at Luchasaurus' chest, tears finally falling down his cheeks.
"It's gonna kill me. I can't. He'll rip me open, you can't-- you can't just let him--" His words come out choked and hoarse.
Christian gets out of his chair and joins them on the couch. A warning glare gets Luchasaurus to hand Nick over, and Christian holds him in his lap instead, brushing his hair out of his eyes.
"Hey, hey, Nick. I'm not going to," he coos. "It won't be how you think. We're going to go real slow, and make sure you're stretched and slicked up first. I promise you, you're not going to tear. I didn't let him jam his dick down your throat, did I?"
Nick sniffles. He didn't. He doesn't really want to think how much worse it could have been, if Christian hadn't ordered Luchasaurus to keep his hands off. Nick shakes his head again.
"See? I will never make you take more than you're able to. You're safe as long as I'm here."
He doesn't feel safe. Safe-er, maybe, but he's still here. Squeezing his eyes shut so he doesn't have to look Christian in the eye as he's stripped out of his tights and made to straddle him. Spread wide for either of them to ogle, front or back. A plastic cap pops behind him, and he stiffens as slick fingers brazenly trail up his crack. No claws. Until now, Christian has only watched from the sidelines. Now, he massages Nick's neck and his tightly-clenched hole, still cooing in a tone like he's trying to calm a dog during a storm.
"Don't think so hard about it. Take a deep breath, loosen up, let me in-- oh, there you go. Good boy."
His finger finally breaches Nick, and it's... Okay. Nick exhales in relief, unaware that he'd even been holding his breath. It's not that it's good, it just doesn't hurt, for once. It's foreign and intrusive. He shudders when it starts moving in and out. But there's plenty of lube, enough that even the calluses on Christian's fingers don't feel too rough. The second finger is when the discomfort starts, still slippery, but stretching him wider. Anxiety starts to coil in his gut again. Luchasaurus was a lot thicker all around than two fingers. Probably more than three. At that point, four fingers deep, Christian would practically be shoving his whole hand in his body, and-- he can't dwell on that mental image, or he's gonna start panicking again. He's already in danger of that as Luchasaurus rises from the couch and steps behind him, impatient again, snorting like a caged bull, literally breathing down his neck. Christian continues to finger Nick, three now, and doesn't object to Luchasaurus wrapping his hands around his slim waist. He just raises an eyebrow.
"Are you going to be careful with him?"
Luchasaurus growls. Nick can't make heads or tails of most of his noises, but to Christian it's a "yes," apparently. He silently begs him to say no, that he needs more time, to put off the inevitable just a little longer. It's another unanswered prayer. Unsurprising, but still coldly disappointing. Christian hands over the lube, and the bottle sputters as its full contents are squeezed out and noisily slathered over the dinosaur's cock. He holds Nick open with two fingers.
"Go slow."
To his credit, Luchasaurus does move slow. But he doesn't stop. Nick isn't given a moment to adjust-- he is bigger than Christian prepared him for-- and he can't escape with the visegrip around his middle. He doesn't stop until he's fully bottomed out, his heavy balls pressed firmly against Nick's own. Nick's mouth falls open in a silent scream. His chest heaves, but his throat is all closed up, he can't get air in or out. Panicked, he claws at Christian's shoulders.
"Sshh, just breathe. I've got you. It's okay."
He pats his back until he gasps a few breaths. It's not okay. It's not okay. Nick is frozen in shock, speared open by a huge, growling dinosaur man, straddling his handler's lap while he tries to soothe him. And if he'd just thrown in the towel for Darby, he wouldn't be here. He didn't know. He didn't know because Darby didn't tell him. Darby could have tapped out, too, before he got injured too badly, because he knew what would happen to Nick if he couldn't keep up his end of the deal. It's not the pain or the violation that finally, fully breaks Nick. It's not the indignity of his only comfort here coming from a man who's clearly aroused by watching his pet monster fuck some fresh young talent. It's realizing the truth of the matter at last.
Darby wouldn't have done this for him. He had the chance to, and he didn't. He let Nick take the punishment for him.
Nick collapses against Christian. He tucks his face into his neck and cries into his shoulder. He ignores the short grunt the man can't quite hold back. He ignores how he strokes just a little too low down his back to be strictly comforting. It's the only thing he has that isn't completely horrible right now. His body shakes, rocks as Luchasaurus starts to really fuck him, he's getting snot and drool all over Christian's jacket, but Christian cards his fingers through his hair nonetheless.
"Oh, you're doing so good, baby," he croons, kissing Nick's temple. "Just relax a little and it'll feel better."
Like it's so easy. Like it's his responsibility to just stop being in pain, and not Luchasaurus' responsibility to stop hurting him. Even with a squelching, dripping excess of lube, even after being carefully prepared first, he's just being forced open too wide. Maybe he's not tearing and bleeding, but the stretch aches so sharply it makes him nauseous. There's no escape from it. His body is pressed flush against Christian's, and the only angle he can twist at that feels any different, feels like being jabbed in the taint with a taser. Unpleasant for him, but good for Luchasaurus, who tightens his grip and bucks as Nick tightens around his shaft. He clamps his teeth around a mouthful of Christian's jacket and wails, overwhelmed with confusing, intense sensation. It hurts. It's electric. It's pressure. His dick is twitching involuntarily where it flops, soft, between his legs. It's dripping onto Christian's pants. He's terrified and disgusted by everything happening to him. He wants to puke. He wants it to be over. He wants to die.
Eventually, he finds the eye of the storm of agony he's been trapped in. It all just gives way to clear skies and only the dull awareness that he is in pain, somewhere. It feels like walking a tightrope. Like one wrong move will send him hurtling back to that place. So he stays still and limp. The claws digging into his sides to hold him up don't matter. The hand in his hair pulling him away from Christian's shoulder don't matter. The blurry face in front of him and speaking blurry words doesn't matter. The lips against his own don't matter. The hard shape put in his hand and moved through the weak circle of his fist doesn't matter. The sharp teeth in the crook of his neck almost bring him back-- he feels them pop through the skin and the sting and trickle of blood, he hears Christian snap at Luchasaurus again. But ultimately, that also doesn't matter. Nick's done with this. He's done having the worst day of his life. He doesn't want to be here anymore, so he's just not. It's not his problem anymore. Luchasaurus locks an arm around his throat and holds him tight against his sweaty body as he jackrabbits his last handful of thrusts and shoots his load deep in his ravaged guts. It's warm. His chest rumbles like thunder against his back. Christian groans into his mouth as he comes all over his stomach. He leaves him with a little bite to his lower lip. They both leave him lying on the couch when they're done, naked, sweaty, raw, leaking from a gaping wound that used to be tight and virginal, and might not ever be again. Nothing will be the same now.
Nick sleeps. He doesn't dream of anything. Just blackness and a vague sense of time passing.
He wakes when the door opens again, and launches him into defense mode. He shoots upright, wincing at the pain that rushes back to the forefront, and raises his fists. Darby stands in the doorway, blue eyes wide in shock. They scan briefly over Nick's body, taking in the state of him. He drops his bag and shuts the door. White-hot hate like Nick has never felt before floods through his veins. He can't even move, doesn't know what to do with it. Darby came to ogle the damage, and he has the nerve to look surprised.
"What happened?"
Darby crosses the room and reaches out. Nick reacts, and kicks him hard in the stomach, where he's bandaged up. He jumps back, wheezing and clutching at the spot.
"Shit! What the fuck, Nick? I'm trying to fucking help you!"
That's the final straw.
"Now? Now you wanna help?" Nick barks, sitting up. "You fucking asshole, don't give me that! This is your fault!"
Darby snarls back. "Nick, what the fuck are you talking about? I was fucking unconscious! I wasn't here!"
"No shit! You let Luchasaurus kick your ass because you were too chickenshit to take your own fucking punishment! But you didn't give a shit if I had to take it for you!"
"Lucha--" Darby cuts himself off. Confusion, disturbingly genuine, crosses his face. "What punishment?"
"The fucking Winner's Room!"
Nick shatters and starts to sob, punching the back of the couch in a fit of rage and fresh humiliation before curling in on himself again. Darby is silent for a long moment. He doesn't come any closer. He keeps his distance, but kneels down gingerly, hissing at the pain in his battered body, down to Nick's level.
"Nick. Nick, look at me, please."
He's quiet now. His voice is unsteady. Nick lowers his hands from his face. Darby's brows are furrowed, and there's a sort of hollow horror in his eyes that makes Nick's heart jolt. He has a sickening feeling he knows exactly what he's going to say, right before he says it.
"What the hell is a 'Winner's Room'?"
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