Work Text:
“People are gonna talk about us, Breezy.” Fandango shoots the message off in response to the picture Tyler sends him. It's a picture of them in their team smackdown crop tops, draped all over each other and the ring ropes, taken by a fan near the front row. Because of course the camera had been pulled away from them far too soon.
“Well, in that case let them talk, Dango. Any attention is good attention.” Tyler’s response sends Fandango’s phone vibrating a few minutes later. A welcome distraction from the endless fussing of the hair stylist who has him trapped in her chair.
In lieu of sending an actual response, he skims through his emojis until he finds a winking face and sends that, while the stylist says “chin up dear.” As though he even needs to be here. He's been doing his own stage makeup and hair for years. He knows Tyler feels the same way when wardrobe tries to be bossy with him.
He gets a gif back in response. It's the two of them, coming down the ramp for their entrance. He remembers the night. The crowd had popped like mad, leaving both of them electrified and antsy for hours afterward, until they had found another way to burn off the excess energy. The camera had caught when Tyler had leaned into him to say “they like us.” He had said it like an accusation, as though the words actually meant “go fuck yourself.” Not that Tyler would ever say anything so ugly. Dango hadn't been offended though, knowing he wasn't the target. He hoped every man above them in the chain of command caught the actual meaning. “We’re over. Like it or not. We have the fans’ backing, even if we’ll never have yours.”
“But they do like us, Breezy, how could they not?” It's time for a little ego stroking, both to make himself feel better, and to ensure Tyler doesn't tear into an intern out of sheer frustration and get blood on his ring gear before the pay per view even starts.
“Some people just can't appreciate true gorgeousness.” Wasn't that the truth? They had tried to impress upon their teammates and coworkers the importance of certain things but to no avail.
Apparently, you could lead a horse to water…
Tyler’s responses were coming quickly and consistently now. He must be either ready or stuck in a makeup chair like Fandango himself was.
“Good thing we’re around to appreciate each other.” By God, did he appreciate Tyler. Himself too, of course, but Tyler. Well. “A sight to behold” didn't quite encompass his feelings on the matter of Tyler Breeze.
“We don't need the uggos anyway.” Fandango could picture Tyler’s scoff and pout, even as he read the text.
“They wouldn't know appreciation if it bit them on their asses. I, on the other hand, know how to show a little appreciation.” Fandango smiles when he sends the text, and he knows he looks just a little wicked. The hair stylist is starting to side eye him. He follows up his text with the grinning devil emoji just for effect.
“You can look, but you can't touch. Not unless I let you, anyway.” Oh. He certainly knows. He's spent entire nights waiting for Tyler to decide he wants to be touched. It had started as an act of domination, Fandango knows. Tyler’s way of telling Fandango in no uncertain terms that he was in charge of whatever this thing between them was. The longer they had carried on the more like a game it had become, Tyler teasing and laughing and relenting much more quickly than before.
“Wouldn't dream of it. I can appreciate just fine from afar.” He really hopes he won't have to, though.
“Mmm. Good. That's why I like you, Dango. A pretty face that knows when to listen is hard to find.” Fandango knows he should probably roll his eyes when he reads that, but the only thing he can do is smile fondly. It sounds imperious, but it's Tyler’s way of saying he considers Fandango above the general masses. It's pretty high praise actually.
The hair stylist is apparently done, because she pulls off the smock and makes a shooing gesture at Fandango. He's feeling a bit contrary about being forced to sit still for this amateur for so long, so instead of getting up he pulls his phone camera up to check himself out. His hair is passable; he’ll give her that. He still thinks he could have done a better job in about half the time, but what's done is done. He snaps a picture of himself lounging in the stylist's chair and sends it to Tyler with, “Ha. I'm a diamond in the rough, that's for sure. You really sparkle, though. Makes appreciating easy.” That might have been a bit much, but he likes to see how sweet Tyler will let him get away with being. Either he's gotten better at pushing it lately, or Tyler’s lightened up a bit. Something that tender would have been shut down immediately when they first started their relationship.
“Alright, sweet talker. Find me after the show tonight and I'll give you something you can really appreciate.” Clearly, Tyler’s decided to reward him this time. Fandango sets out to meet up with the rest of the Survivor Series team for a prematch planning session with a bit of a spring in his step. Even if the match is a disappointment, what follows won't be.
