Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Author Note: For those of you who only know Eddie and Davey from their work in TNA, I implore you, check out their Ring of Honor matches. Amazing stuff. Fic title is a lyric from the song 'Heartbeats' by José González.

WOLVES TEETH, HEARTBEATS

When Davey was finally able to make his way to the back, stumbling and exhausted and an unbelievable mix of elated and achingly sad, the first thing he did was seek out a shower. His head was ringing, but at least in his locker room, there was silence. Cool, crisp, silence that enveloped him and held him up. He closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the sensation, then the silence suddenly seemed less solid and he found himself leaning heavily against the wall. The match had been phenomenal and he'd been the victor, but fuck, was he tired.

The victor. He turned slightly, to glance in the nearby full-length mirror, to see the gold championship belt strapped around his waist. His fingers caught the edge of it, the engraving, the history. He was the Ring of Honor World Heavyweight Champion, and he'd beaten Eddie to do it. Fuck.

Eddie had been his best friend, practically his family, for so long now. So many of the boys in the back were, because Davey's family had been taken until all he'd had left was wrestling. And Eddie was the shining star among them all, a ridiculously talented guy, young and determined and somehow attached to Davey. Davey felt like a dinged-up anchor, dragging the kid down, but Eddie always slapped his shoulder when he said stuff like that and retorted that Davey was a fucking idiot.

God, Eddie, I'm sorry.

Davey unclasped the belt suddenly, dropping it onto a bench, and feverishly unlaced his boots with clumsy aching fingers. He kicked them away dazedly and stripped off his trunks, suddenly desperate to be rid of it all, to drown himself.

The shower water was lukewarm, the heater taking its usual sweet time to kick in, and Davey closed his eyes, letting out a deep sigh as the water sluiced over his body, washing away so much. Here was silence and solace; here pain could bleed out without an audience. He'd given everything to that loyal ROH crowd and they'd always given it back to him in spades, willing him on, encouraging him and Eddie to succeed. He owed them so much, but right now, he needed this private silence.

The locker room door opened, and Davey's teeth clenched. His blood still up, he could defend himself if needed. But part of him stayed relaxed, part of him was sure that this wasn't a sneak attack on the new champ, part of him hoped...

There were footsteps and then a body eased into the shower behind Davey, letting out a sigh as the water hit them. Davey swallowed and leaned back slightly, unable to resist that familiar orbit.

Arms wrapped around him and a forehead rested against the nape of his neck. Davey's breathing shook, his hands tightly gripping those arms. His heart felt like it was going to come up his throat. Oh fuck.

"Eddie..."

"Shut the fuck up," Eddie Edwards said sharply against Davey's skin, before kissing there, laving his tongue through sweat and warm water.

They rested against each other, Davey's words trapped in his mouth. Eddie didn't let go of him, not even an inch. The spray fell on them like rain, like a benediction. Davey bowed his head, guilt swimming feverishly through him.

Eddie smacked his chest, like he'd heard Davey's thoughts. "You listen to me; I meant what I said out there. You always say such good shit about everybody else, the boys, the fans; all the people who've helped build you up. But we've done all of that for one reason – because you're fucking worth it."

Davey's expression crumpled as Eddie kissed his back, dragging teeth across his skin. Davey gasped, his nails reflexively digging into Eddie. Both of them enjoyed a bit of pain, both of them needed it.

"You're the champion, Davey." Weirdly, Eddie didn't sound jealous or bitter, more like resigned and proud with a deep edge of sadness. "So fucking deal with it and stop worrying about me. I'll get it back."

Davey's lips rose into a grin; that was Eddie, still determined to fight to the top, no matter what. It was exactly the right mentality needed for rising up in this business; it was why Eddie had won the title in the first place. Davey squeezed Eddie's wrist and leaned back more, soaking him in. Davey was a lucky motherfucker. He was the champion.

"I'm the champion," he repeated aloud in wonder, under the hiss of water.

A bubble of disbelieving laughter burst out of him and Eddie joined in, smacking at Davey's chest again, lighter this time, filled with affection.

"Yes, you are, at last, for now. God, Davey, you deserve this."

Eddie's voice was so raw and proud that Davey felt breathless and gut-punched all of a sudden. His off-balance moment allowed Eddie to spin him round, the two of them face to face again, hair wet and eyes shining. Davey shakily lifted a hand and palmed Eddie's cheek, more words stuck in his mouth, about what a fucking gift Eddie was, what a perfect son of a bitch he'd been, pushing Davey, challenging him, making him the happiest he'd been in years. Despite how easily words had poured from him in the ring after the match, Davey now found himself struck dumb in the face of Eddie's unselfish joy.

Eddie grinned, turning his face to kiss Davey's palm, before abruptly dropping to his knees, his intentions extremely clear. Davey swallowed, his heartrate skyrocketing. God. His hand reached out to stroke through Eddie's soaked hair and tug on it, just a bit.

Eddie moaned and looked extremely smug. "To the victor go the spoils..."

He sucked down Davey's cock without ceremony, causing Davey's hips to jerkily piston forward. Jesus. Eddie might have claimed he was rewarding Davey, but Davey knew how much Eddie enjoyed sucking cock. This was for both of them. Davey wasn't going to complain, he couldn't, his brain felt as though it was melting, as though it was being sucked out through Eddie's extremely talented mouth. The fucker was moaning now, the vibrations running through Davey's cock, heightening the pleasure. Davey dug his nails into Eddie's scalp and rolled his hips at an increasingly frantic speed. If he treated Eddie preciously, Eddie would only glare at him and slide off long enough to order fuck my mouth, you fucker. Eddie knew what he wanted and wasn't afraid to ask for it. Davey liked to think he'd taught him that.

He'd definitely taught Eddie to push himself, to remember that there could be both respect and a knock-down competitive bout, that it was disrespectful not to face each other when they both wanted the title so much. Yet in that ring tonight, Eddie had paused a couple of times, not wanting to damage Davey too much. Davey had slapped his chest, yelling at him to just do it. Eddie had, but he hadn't gone far enough. Davey had, kicking the man he fucking loved in the head, to finally, finally, get his hands on that world title. And he didn't regret it, that was the business. However, he did regret putting that defeated look on Eddie's face, causing that deflated body language. Maybe Davey did deserve it, after pulling himself up through so much shit and heartache to finally reach the top of the mountain, but Eddie deserved it too.

Eddie's suction increased and his moans were fucking beyond wanton, they were greedy and salacious. He was enjoying himself and he wanted Davey to know it. Davey fucked his mouth harder, loving how the pitch of Eddie's moans changed and shook. This was theirs; this was their shared fucking title. Eddie's fingers slipped behind Davey's balls and pressed and Davey's back arched as he howled himself hoarse, pleasure whiting him out, leaving him even shakier than before. Eddie didn't pull off; he swallowed every last drop and licked his lips afterward.

"Jesus, Eddie..."

Davey's voice was extremely raw as he manhandled Eddie back up to his feet and grasped between his legs, only to find that Eddie was already spent. By his own hand or...? Eddie smiled, answering that question. Fuck. Davey pulled him roughly into a hell of a kiss, needing that connection, needing to pour out all of his trapped ramblings and affection, needing Eddie to know how unbelievable he was, what he meant to Davey.

Eddie kissed him back, arms locked around Davey, refusing to let go. The water was running cold now; they'd been in the shower a long time. It didn't feel like long enough though, it never did.

"So what do you say, beers with the boys?" Eddie joked in his ear.

Davey managed a laugh, he could barely move, a night out just wasn't going to happen and he doubted that any of the boys were still waiting around for him anyway. He kissed Eddie's neck, then sunk his teeth in, suddenly wanting to leave a mark, to say I was here, and I always will be. Eddie's hand gripped Davey's neck, seeming to say the same thing. Communication in all its forms had been fluid between them for years now.

They stayed like that for a little while until Eddie disentangled himself and led the way out into the cold spartan dressing room. His gaze immediately zeroed in on the belt, Davey didn't blame him. It made his own heart bump.

Eddie wore a look of real melancholy, not hiding it from Davey. Good, if Eddie ever started wearing masks around him, then Davey would know that something dangerous was going down. They'd always been beyond that kind of false fuckery.

When he picked it up, the belt felt heavy in Davey's hands. Eddie's smile was already nostalgic and knowing, bittersweetness bleeding in at the edges. His hand slipped briefly across Davey's back. "You get used to it."

-the end