Are We Quite Finished?
Immediately Following THAT match on Climax Control
The backstage area was still buzzing with excitement as Climax Control was still going on but following one particular match, it felt as if staff and security set themselves up for a possible blowout.
He wasn’t looking for any more fights tonight, though. Miles Kasey had his fill from the battle he just went through. The games and the hoops that he was forced through had gotten on his last nerve and after a hard fought battle, and huge weight had been lifted. Even if it was only momentary.
He would cross the threshold of the gorilla position, ring coat in one hand, head to toe sweat; red marks across his chest, a nice little temporary tattoo from his stablemate. In the other hand he carried two water bottles, balanced just right in his hand and a towel slung over his broad shoulders. He noticed the extra manpower but honestly, they need to put their worries in other places instead of him.
He found out recently, the louder noise he made, the more shocking wins he had, the more often that the cameras were immediately on him. He actually had given a thought that they were doing this lately as to make some sort of documentary about all the insanity surrounding him lately. Hell, might as well, his life has been an open book a lot lately.
So let’s make it a show.
“H’OKAY! Let’s get a couple of things out of the way.” Miles says tossing his ring coat, as we hear it hit the equipment box with a solid thud followed by the towel on top of it, “ONE! Finn Mother Fuckin’ Whelan, you are a madman and maaaaaaaaaate...I’m sure once this adrenaline wears off, every inch of me is gonna scream in a reminder of what we just did out there.”
He sits one of the water bottles down, opens one up and takes a quick sip before dumping the rest on top of his head, and he shakes it off, “And not one bad feeling about it because I KNOW what you were doing. I knew the lesson you wanted to teach me and I’m not going to hold this against you. You simply stepped up and tried your best to knock that rust off all off of a favour being asked by Mercer. But sorry, Tin Man, I was a little quicker tonight and we’re going to leave it at that.”
“I warned everyone that this whole mindset of me not taking shit seriously, is going to come to an end. I do hope Austin realizes it now but somehow I think he is going to continue to DOG ME every chance he gets, but I no longer have the time to even give that a moment of focus because now we move on to brighter ideas.” Miles takes a seat on the equipment box and fiddles with his coat a little bit, as he gets comfy. He opens the other bottle and takes a long drink from it as he contemplates his next words carefully.
“I will say that just two weeks ago, I felt like the most popular tosser in the bunch and suddenly I didn’t feel like all this work that I had put in was all for absolute dick. Calvin Harris, the SCW Internet Champion called his shot.” He grabs his towel and runs it through the dark blonde curly locks and his rugged, almost exhausted looking face, before he just sets it across his shoulders again, “And bruv, before we go any further, thank you on even considering me for this and I heard you before I went out there tonight and took on a former World Champion, I tried to not let it feed my ego and you were 100% right, the fans deserve this and they want it.”
“So, this is going to happen one way or another and we’re going to get it going in Fresno. Whether that Internet Title is on the line or not, I do not care. It’s going to be a match that is going to set the tone of things to come. I just have this feeling.” Miles smirks for a moment, “The fact that it has taken this long since your return for us to even do this feels like a crime and who the fuck are we to deny the anticipation to just keep on bubbling.”
He rolls his shoulders, like he feels that adrenaline begin to wear off and the pains of the match starting to really sit in, “I am more than likely going to be sore from head to toe still after the ass kicking I got tonight, but I will be there next Sunday and we’re about to give and get as great as the rest of them.”
And with that he slowly slides off the box and gathers up his stuff before he looks back, “Now, if you excuse me, I’m gonna go rest up because something tells me that I have a lot of work ahead of me....and a lot of ibuprofen....and maybe a couple of shots of tequila...actually maybe whiskey.”
How Do You Even...?
Back in Last Vegas
The night had settled over the desert city, casting the room into shadows save for the soft glow of the moon filtering through the curtains. In the bedroom that Miles and Carter shared, the atmosphere was heavy with unspoken words.
Carter lay on his back, his gaze fixed on the ceiling, his father's journal resting on his chest. Miles sat on the edge of the bed, his hands clasped together, uncertain of what to say or do. The weight of the moment hung in the air.
Miles finally broke the silence. "Babe, I can't pretend to know what you're feeling right now. But I want you to know that I'm here for you, whatever you decide to do."
Carter turned his head slightly to look at Miles, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I never thought... I never thought I'd hear from him again, and then him stalking me... let alone like this."
Miles nodded, his expression filled with understanding. "I know, love. It's a lot to process. And it's okay to take your time with it."
Carter sighed, setting the journal aside on the nightstand. He turned to face Miles, his expression a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "You've been so patient with me, Miles. I know I've been distant about this whole thing, but it's just... it's so much to take in."
Miles reached out and gently brushed a lock of hair from Carter's forehead. "Hey, if I were in your shoes, I have no idea how I would even react if my asshole of an old man showed up suddenly after 15 years. It probably would be very similar to how you have been up until just now.” Miles lays down by him and smiles gently, “You don't have to figure it all out tonight. We can take it one step at a time. Your father's journal will be there when you're ready."
Carter's hand found Miles', their fingers intertwining. "Thank you for being here for me, for understanding. I just - How can you be so absolutely gentle and loving about the whole damn situation?"
Miles smiled softly, his thumb caressing Carter's hand. "Well it might have to do with the fact that I actually love you.” Miles lets out a laugh which brings a small laugh from Carter for a moment, “I'm here, no matter what you decide. And now to sound all mushy, but we’ve come far enough, I have absolutely zero issues in letting you cry while I hold you and tell you it’ll all be okay."
Miles held his arms open for a moment before Carter barely even thought twice and moved right into Miles arms and wrapped himself up in his grasp.
A couple hours later...
The dimly lit hallway was quiet, save for the faint hum of the air conditioning. Carter lay sound asleep in their bedroom, exhaustion finally claiming him after a turbulent evening. Miles, however, found himself restless.
He carefully slipped out of bed, trying not to wake Carter, who had finally found some solace in sleep. The floor felt cool beneath his feet as he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water. The desert night outside the window was actually storming currently, an interesting contrast to the emotional storm that had swept through the room earlier.
As Miles filled a glass with water, he couldn't help but think about Carter and the immense weight that had been placed on his shoulders. His own past had been filled with its share of turmoil, but he'd never had to face a situation quite like this.
He went to take a small drink before he heard, Joan clearing her throat behind him. He didn’t even hear her come out of the room but he didn’t jump but just turned around with a small smile.
"Couldn't sleep either, huh?" Miles asked softly as he entered the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Joan looked up, her eyes filled with a mixture of weariness and concern. He offered her a glass from the drying tray next to the sink and she took it, turning to the refrigerator and pouring herself a glass of milk. She would just sigh and shake her head, "No, dear. My mind's been racing all evening. I worry about Carter and what all of this means for him."
Miles took to leaning against the counter, nodding in understanding. "Yeah, it's a lot for him to process. He's been through so much tonight."
Joan took to standing across from him the milk setting on the counter, currently forgotten, "He's a strong young man, but even the strongest need someone to lean on. I'm grateful he has you, Miles."
Miles smiled, genuinely touched by Joan's words. "I'll do my best to support him, Joan. He means the world to me."
Joan reached out and patted Miles's hand gently. "I can see that, dear. You're a good man, and you love him deeply. That's what matters most."
They sat in companionable silence for a while, both lost in their thoughts. Outside, the desert night held its secrets, and inside, two souls found solace in the presence of each other. “I should get back just in case he wakes up. Hopefully you can find sleep soon.”
“I will try. Sweet dreams, dear.” Grams raises her glass before heading back into the spare bedroom.
“Sweet dreams.” Miles says just before he slips back in to his room, placing the glass to the side and slipping carefully back into bed. Just as he is about to close his eyes he feels Carter curl up into him again and he places a gentle kiss on top of his head.
Carter simply sighs in his sleep and finally sleep captures Miles but just before he slips into it he hears, “Thank you, love.”
A familiar sentence between the two and one that neither will ever regret.
