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It's been a long day. One of those days where nothing happens which makes every mundane second last an eternity. Jack and Darby aren't exhausted because they are hard at work, but because they are so fatigued from being bored. Somebody messed up when making the schedule and required all of the wrestlers to arrive at the venue much earlier then they needed to be. It was too much time to do anything, but not enough time to justify leaving. Jack and Darby hid themselves away in some abandoned office, they rather rot out of boredom with each other than small talk with coworkers in catering. Restless energy was building and bubbling, ready to be released but without anywhere to put it.
“Let's play a game, I’m bored.” Darby says to Jack after a long silence of them scrolling on their phones— his voice slicing through the suffocating quiet.
Instantly shutting off his phone Jack excitedly asks,“Ok, what are you thinking?”
“Two truths and a lie. It’s fun and doesn’t make us leave this office.” Darby offers with a grin. Jack has seen it enough to know that Darby has some challenge attached to it, eating some crazy food or getting hit with some nonsense weapon.
“Awesome. I have no clue what I’m lying about though.” Jack admits while searching through memories trying to find something Darby wouldn’t be able to guess.
“Wait fuck, now I have to think of something to use.” Darby says crushing his eyes
closed as if it’ll help him think of an idea. “Do you have yours?” He asks Jack.
After a second Jack responds, “Yeah. I’m ready when you are, take your time.”
Darby opens his eyes and says, “Ok. I got mine. And, I know what's gonna happen if I win. You have to eat one of Luchasaurus’s mouth dye capsules.”
“You’ve been daring me to do that for a while.” Jack observes with a look of suspicion. “What happens if I win?”
“You could paint my face for my match tonight? That's a proportionate prize.” Darby offers.
“Deal. I can’t wait to make you walk out to the ring with a giant penis on your forehead.” Jack says with a confident grin smeared across his face.
“If I wouldn’t get fired you know I would do that.” Darby sighs. “Go ham on my face, just nothing that’ll actually fuck me over.”
“So I could make you walk out with ‘I love Jack Perry and I stink’ and you’d be fine with that?” Jack asks, his eyes wide with excitement but also fear for what Darby won’t say no to.
“Sure. I don’t think Tony Kahn would be thrilled but I don’t think I’ll get fired. Maybe fined though, but you know I don't give a fuck. And it's not like you're gonna win anyways” Says Darby with complete sincerity. “Ok lets play.”
With a sigh of both admiration for Darby’s courage and concern for his lack of care, Jack steadies himself. “Ok, you go first.”
“I’ve broken both of my ankles at the same time while skateboarding. I was the lead singer in a band that released an album. And my favorite color is pink.” Darby shares.
“The ankle one sounds very on brand, you're fearless, but not dumb and you would’ve had to do something really stupid to break both ankles on the same trick but I could see it happening. I think you would’ve already shared the music from your band if you really had one and you would’ve introduced me to your bandmates. And you always have pink nails and wear that giant pink jacket.” After a second of quiet deliberation Jack declares, “I think the lie is that you were the lead singer in a band that released an album.” When Darby brings his hands up to cover his face in defeat, ten hot pink nails are on his fingers. Between laughs Jack says, “Look! Your nails are pink! Darby, babe this was way too easy.”
“Damn it.” Darby mutters out, acknowledging his defeat. But deep down, he isn’t that upset because seeing Jack’s unabashed smile makes whatever ends up on his forehead worth it. “I tried to sing, and even though I wasn’t really singing, just screaming and talking real fast, it didn’t go well. Probably because I don’t know shit about singing. Our guitarist only knew had an acoustic guitar and a punk band sounds weird without an electric guitar. I think our drummer only showed up to one of our three practices. But our bassist was actually pretty good. We were a hot mess.” He pulls his hands away from his face and gestures for Jack to start.
“Ok, you ready? My favorite food is bananas, green isn’t my favorite color and I’m allergic to shellfish.” With a smug smile Jack folds his arms and lends back, already planning what he’s going to paint on Darby’s face.
Softly, Darby swears. “Fuck. Ok. Fuck Jack, I’m not certain I know this. You always take like a whole ass bundle of bananas from catering so it's probably your favorite. When you used to tag with Luchasaurus green was kinda your guys' color, but now you mostly wear black. And frankly, I have no clue about that shellfish one. I don’t get any hints right?” Darby begs.
The way that Darby’s eyes are staring into Jack’s soul, it takes all his effort not to crack and just give him the answer. “Nope, no hints, I didn't need one” Jack taunts, looking away from Darby’s pleading gaze.
“Fine.” Darby complains while rolling his eyes, making a big deal of pretending to be upset. “I guess that your favorite color isn’t green is the lie, you truly stumped me with that one.”
“Hey Darby? Where do you keep your facepaint? How about you go get it for me, I have to call Tony Kahn to apologize in advance for how ridiculous you're gonna look.” Jack taunts.
Darby sighs and “Yeah yeah, nice work Jack. The face paints in my front pocket.”
While he walks over to Darby’s ring bag Jack explains, “I don’t like shellfish but I’m not allergic, that was the lie. Every year or so I try some shrimp and every time it's awful. Green was never truly my favorite. I've always been more of a nice orange guy. The only time I really wore green was to match Lucha and most of the time I would just wear leopard print or tan tassels. Also yeah bananas are my favorite. You did get that at least.” Once Jack grabs the tubs of black and white face paint, a brush, a sponge and a water bottle, he instructs, “Ok you sit on the desk and I’ll sit on the folding chair.”
Unfortunately, the cramped office only had a desk, not even an office chair but instead a folding chair. The desk only had an empty mug and pens out of ink that Darby moves over to sit on the desk, his legs dangling over the edge. “You better not do anything too crazy, cuz you know I’ll wear whatever, I’m not gonna break this deal. So it's on your head if you get me fired.”
“Fine,” Jack complains while rolling his eyes. “Why did you pick two truths, one lie anyways?” He asks. Jack takes the lid off the white paint, he covers the sponge in some water and dabs it into the paint, getting a generous amount. Although Jack has never painted Darby’s face before, he’s kept Darby company millions of times in the past so he’s essentially memorized Darby’s process.
“I wanted to get to know you better. We talk too much about work and locker room gossip. Not enough about each other.” Darby's eyes flutter closed as he feels the cold sponge on his cheek, a contrast to Jack’s warm hand holding his face in place. Darby’s voice drops as he tries not to move his mouth too much while saying, “And it should’ve given me an opportunity for me to make you eat one of Lucha’s mouth dyes.”
“Aww, that's sweet. But yeah you're right. At the end of the day, I don’t really care about whatever drama is going down. As long as it does’t involve you or me I could’ve give one less of a fuck.” Jack leans back into the chair examining Darby’s face, making sure there aren’t any patchy spots of white paint. He goes back in, tilting Darby’s chin to the side so he can access his jaw to cover up a blank spot with more paint. Just for the fun of it, he tilts Darby’s chin down so he could crane his neck up to give him a kiss, the paint still wet on Darby’s lips. Darby makes a sound, he wasn’t expecting Jack to kiss him and was pleasantly surprised when he felt warm soft lips meet his own. One of them pulls away and Jack swipes his thumb over Darby’s lips to get rid of any access paint. “Why are you so obsessed with me eating a dye capsule?”
It is a subtle change, but Darby’s volume drops as he confesses, “To be honest, the real reason I wanted you to eat one of the dye capsules is because I’m wondering what will happen if we make out.”
Jack is grateful that he hasn’t started painting Darby’s face with the black because if so, in his fit of laughter he surely would’ve messed up. He wishes that the discarded mug on the desk had some water in it because Jack needed something to stop him from laughing so much. Once the giggles subdued and he catches his breath, Jack wets the brush and coats in black paint. “Next week let's play again, or pick some other game. Although I don’t wanna lose, I do admit that I am also intrigued about what will happen.” Jack brings his thumb to brush over Darby’s eye lid as a signal to close it. He carves out the shape of Darby’s eye socket with the black paint and fills it in, careful not to leave any speck of white peaking through.
The tickling feeling of Jack’s warm fingers drifting over his face and the cold, wet brush across his skin sends tingles down Darby’s spine. Because his eyes are closed, every feather light touch from Jack is a surprise and the sensual drag of the brush across his lips has goosebumps forming on his arms. It feels nice to know that Jack is taking his job very seriously, but the excitement and fear of what could possibly be on his face is constantly biting at the reassuring feeling of knowing that Jack is taking care of him. Every ‘hmm’ from Jack lets Darby know that at least if he goes out to the ring looking like a fool, whatever Jack is doing to his face it will look impeccable. Every inch of Darby trusts Jack to not royally fuck him over, just give something for commentary to speculate about. Hopefully Renee Paquette doesn’t corner him backstage for an interview.
“Ok. I’m almost done. Hold still.” Jack says. Darby nods, his eyes still closed.
Jack takes Darby’s hands in his own and he plants a solid kiss on Darby's cheek and then says, “Ok, here, take a look.”
Darby opens his eyes to see Jack’s camera open and his reflection staring back at him. Everything about his facepaint is normal, he still has the white base, the black circle around his eye, the triangle on his nose and the lines across his mouth, his classic half skull. At first he doesn’t see it, but once Darby tilts his head to the side he notices it. A big black kiss mark on his cheek. He turns to Jack and sees his lips are covered in black paint and spread in a big smile.
Although Jack can’t really tell since half his face is painted, Darby blushes as he brings two fingers to the kiss mark. “Oh damn. I didn’t think this was the direction you would take.”
Jack’s eyes widen and he reaches for a washcloth. He rambles, “If you don’t like it I’m not gonna make you wear it to the ring-”
Jack is interrupted by Darby who grabs his hands and says, “Jack no way. I love this, you're an absolute mad genius. This is fucking awesome, still classic but with a fun twist. Seriously, it's great.”
Jack’s potential objections are shut down as Darby brings his lips to Jacks, his sloppy kiss smothering’s Jack’s words. They both feel the facepaint on both of their lips smearing but neither care, too occupied with each other. The taste of the coconut lip balm Jack uses is overpowered by the chalky paint taste as Darby glides his tongue over Jack’s lips. When he nips at Jack’s lower lip, Darby knocks Jack's nose with his own, transferring his black paint. A small noise escapes from Darby’s mouth as Jack pulls away. Jack drags his lips down Darby’s jaw, leaving a marbled trail of gray across Darby’s warm skin. He nips and sucks at Darby’s neck, under the paint and tattoo’s his skin is turning a bruised purple. Jack brings his hand up to cradle Darby’s face and slides his thumb across Darby’s lips, the palm of his hand now coated in paint. Then he drags his hand down Darby’s chest, leaving a white handprint on Darby’s skin, his fingertips leaving a smear of paint down Darby’s chest.
When Jack pulls back to take off Darby’s shirt, he can’t help the fit of laughter that possesses him. “What?” Darby asks, but his voice trails off when he looks at Jack’s face. His lips are dark gray and puffy, half of his nose has black paint on it and his hand is white. “Oh no, is my face paint ruined? Fuck, after you did such a great job!”
Jack manages to say between laughs, “Here lemme show you.” He grabs his phone and snaps a pic of Darby and shows him. Darby’s lips coated in gray with a trail of murky black and white down his throat and a white handprint on the space between his neck and shoulder. Peeking out underneath the splotches of paint, hickeys are starting to form. “You look like a hot mess. You're welcome. And I will be keeping that photo.”
“Next time, if you lose, you make that your wallpaper.” Darby challenges. He looks down at his own phone (his wallpaper is a picture of Jack) and sees the time. “Fuck, I got my match in twenty minutes.” Although this is a pressing concern, Darby says it without an ounce of stress because he can’t ever be worried when Jack is still chuckling. “Ok I’m gonna clean up and then I need you to redo that black kiss mark.”
Finally, Jack calms down enough to stop laughing. “What? You actually want to go out to the ring with that?”
“Yeah of course.” Darby reassures while whipping down his neck and chest with a washcloth. “It looked super cool and real hot. Besides, I did lose that game, not that I consider wearing it a punishment.”
“Fuck Darby, if you didn’t have a match to get to I’d make a mess of you all over again.” Jack says while painting his lips black again. “Ok, I’m ready.”
Darby tilts his head signaling he is ready. A warm kiss is planted on his cheek and Jack’s mark is made. “How do I look?”
“Amazing, and like you didn’t have face paint smeared all over your neck.” Jack says before planting a gentle kiss on Darby’s lips, conscious to not smear his face paint. “Good luck with your match. If your face paint isn’t already all smeared off by the time you're done, I can give you a hand with that.” Jack winks as Darby opens the door to the office.
With a half hearted eye roll and sly smile Darby leaves the office and heads to his match.