Everyone is adamant that you both are dating but you always deny it until some unspoken feelings are said...
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A/N: I'm spoiling you guys with two on the same day
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Everyone backstage, the wrestlers, managers even the stage crew swore you and Jey were dating - but you weren't.
At least not officially. Not according to either of you.
However, the "not dating" wrestlers don't usually walk into the arena together after a media day, or share protein shakes, or stretch together before matches, or even look at each other the way you two did.
You walked into catering still in your ring gear - black, sleek, and cut to show the definition you’d earned through years of training. Your hair was styled from earlier media shoots, soft curls brushing your shoulders, makeup somehow still perfect even after a full day of work.
A few wrestlers nodded as you passed - the kind of nod that said respect, the kind that was earned and deserved as you’d fought for since your debut. Someone from production even waved you over, telling you their niece had your poster on her wall.
You smiled, thanked them, and kept walking.
Right beside Jey. With his hand on the small of your back.
So when Jimmy saw you and Jey walk into catering again he didn't even try to hide his grin. "Look at them," he announced, "The most not-dating couple in WWE."
You rolled your eyes at the older brother. “We’re not dating.”
Jey didn’t even look up from his phone. “Yeah. We not.”
Jimmy pointed at your gear bag the one Jey was carrying over his shoulder. “Then why he holdin’ your bag like a husband?”
You blinked and looked over to the culprit.
Jey was holding your bag. Your custom gear bag. With your name on it. In glitter. He looked down at it, then shrugged, not bothered. “She handed it to me.”
“No I didn’t,” you said, confused.
He paused, “…Oh.” Jimmy nearly fell out of his chair laughing. However, you didn’t take the bag back.
You both walked over to the training room, as it was much cooler than the hallway, the faint hum of the AC mixed with the rhythmic thud of someone hitting pads on the far left. You dropped onto the bench, your gear still clinging to you. Your hair still styled from earlier media shoots as you leaned forward to unwrap your wrists.
Jey moved with that loose and easy confidence he always had, his shoulders relaxed, chain glinting under the fluorescent lights and the faint scent of his cologne filling the air. He sat beside you, so close that your thighs had touched. Close enough that you could feel the heat radiate off of him. “You really didn’t hand me that bag?” he asked, finally looking over.
He blinked, processing. “Damn.” You laughed, and he shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck like he couldn’t believe himself. “You know what’s crazy?” he said. “I ain’t even notice. Just grabbed it like it was mine.”
“That’s because you’re used to carrying it.”
You raised a brow. “Jey. You’ve carried it the last three shows.”
He stared at you, stunned. “Ain’t no way.”
He leaned back against the back of the bench, the muscles in his arms flexing as he stretched out. “Man… Jimmy gon’ clown me forever.”
You nudged him with your shoulder, the contact warm and brief. “You make it too easy.”
He nudged you back gently and deliberately, his touch lingering just a second longer than necessary. “You talk too much.” You were about to fire back when the door swung open.
Bianca stepped in, towel around her neck, her long, thick black braid swinging behind her like a whip. She took one look at the two of you sitting way too close on the bench and stopped dead in her tracks.
“Ohhh,” she said, smiling like she’d just walked into a secret. “I see what’s goin’ on.”
You groaned. “Bianca, please—”
She held up her hands. “I ain’t sayin’ nothin’. Just… y’all look real cute sittin’ there.”
Jey pointed at her. “No. Don’t start.”
Bianca laughed, wiping sweat from her forehead. “I ain’t startin’ nothin’. But the whole locker room already knows.”
She smirked. “That y’all together.”
You and Jey said it at the same time: “We’re not.”
Bianca blinked. “Mhm. Sure.”
She walked off toward the ring, leaving you two in a silence that suddenly felt heavier and thicker, like the air had shifted. Jey looked at you again, eyes lingering a little too long, tracing your face, your lips, the curve of your jaw. “You know,” he said quietly, “people wouldn’t think that if we didn’t act like…” He trailed off.
You swallowed. “Act like what?”
He hesitated just for a second, like he wasn’t sure if he should say it. Then he did. “…like we together.”
Your breath caught. And for the first time, neither of you had a comeback.
Later on, the training room was alive, the slap of boots on the mats, the thud of bodies hitting the floor, the sharp exhale of controlled strikes. You leaned against the wall, arms folded, watching the twins spar in the centre of the ring.
Jey was shirtless, sweat glistening across his chest and shoulders, muscles flexing with every movement. His chain was off, tossed onto a bench, and his hair was tied back, a few loose strands sticking to his forehead.
Jimmy circled him, grinning. “You tired yet, Uce?”
They locked up again, bodies colliding with a heavy thud. You watched the way Jey moved, sharp and fluid, powerful and tried not to stare too obviously.
Naomi stood beside you, sipping from her water bottle. “Girl, you lookin’ real invested.”
You nudged her. “I’m just watching.”
Jey glanced over between movements just a split second, but enough to catch your eye. Enough to make your stomach flip. That’s when the door opened, and Carmelo Hayes walked in. He was still in his gear, his 'H1M' chain glinting, confidence rolling off him like heat. He spotted you instantly and his smile widened.
“Well damn,” Melo said, strolling over. “Didn’t know the main event was already in here.”
Naomi whispered, “Oh lord.”
You laughed softly. “You’re ridiculous.”
Melo leaned on the wall beside you, close but not invasive. “I’m serious. Your match last week? You tore it up. Crowd was loud for you.”
You smiled — genuinely. “Thank you. That means a lot.” You weren’t flirting. You were just being you warm, friendly, respectful.
He stepped a little closer. “I’m serious. You got star written all over you. I was thinkin’ maybe we could—”
A loud thud cut him off. Jey had slammed Jimmy onto the mat harder than necessary. Jimmy groaned. “Damn, Uce! What I do?”
Naomi whispered as she walked over to Jimmy, “Look at his face. He jealous jealous.”
Jimmy noticed immediately. “Ohhh he heated.” Jey was in the ring, watching every second like it was a crime scene. He was staring at Melo like he wanted to superkick him into next week.
Unbeknownst to him, Melo kept talking, oblivious. “I was thinkin’ maybe we could run some drills together sometime. You got crazy footwork. I could learn somethin’.”
You nodded. “Yeah, that’d be fun.” You kept talking because you’re friendly and professional, you’re not doing anything wrong.
Melo smiled. “You free later? We’re all goin’ out. You should come.”
You opened your mouth to respond—
Jey hopped out of the ring. There was no hesitation. No water break.
Just pure, territorial instinct.
Naomi whispered, “Oh this about to be good.”
Jimmy whispered back, “This man is about to risk his whole back for love.”
Jey walked straight toward you, he seemed like a man with a goal and mission, sweat still dripping down his chest, breathing heavy, eyes locked on Melo. Melo finally noticed. “What’s up, Uce?”
Jey didn’t blink stepping closer to you, his cologne hitting your nose. “She busy later.”
Naomi slapped Jimmy’s arm. “HE SAID SHE BUSY.”
Jimmy screamed, whispering, but it might as well have been screamed fully. “OH MY GOD.”
Melo raised his hands, amused. “Aight, I see how it is.” He gave you a respectful nod. “Catch you later.” When he left, the room fell silent.
Naomi spoke out first, “So y’all not dating.”
You and Jey said synchronised as if you had rehearsed it, “We’re not.”
The married couple sighed, still not believing them, “Mhm.”
Jey looked at you again, closer now, breath still heavy, eyes dark and warm. “You're too friendly,” he murmured. You smirked. “Or you too jealous?” His jaw tightened. And he didn’t deny it. The tension between you was something palatable, something both of you have never felt with someone else. It was unspoken.
Naomi cut the tension as she checked her phone and groaned. “Damn, I left my water bottle in catering.”
Jimmy slapped his forehead. “And I left my towel in the hallway. Come on, Uce, we’ll be right back.”
Jey waved them off, still catching his breath from sparring. “Go. Y’all loud anyway.” His sweat glistened across his chest and shoulders
Naomi smirked at you her eyes narrowing playfully, “Don’t start nothin’ while we gone.”
You raised a brow, confused, “Start what?”
She pointed between you and Jey. “Exactly.”
They slipped out, the door swinging shut behind them leaving the room suddenly quieter, warmer, and way too full of tension. Jey looked at you. You looked at him. The faint of the AC buzzed above you but it felt like both of yours heart beat were louder.
He tilted his head. “You tryna spar or what?”
You stepped into the ring, chuckling, your boots hitting the mat with a soft thud, "Only if you're ready to lose."
He laughed under his breath, his grills smiling with him, "A'ight. Bet."
You squared up in the centre of the ring. Jey had mirrored you; his stance was low, his shoulders loose, and his eyes locked onto yours with a focus that made your stomach tighten. The air between you tightened as well. Then he moved, fast.
He reached for your wrist, but you twisted out of it, sliding behind him. Your hands brushed his back, warm and solid muscle beneath slick skin - before he spun, catching your waist with one arm and pulling you flush against him. Your breath caught. His chest pressed against yours, heat radiating through your gear. His hand splayed across your hip, fingers firm, steady, claiming without meaning to.
“You good?” he murmured, voice low, breath warm against your cheek.
You swallowed. “I’m fine.”
“Yeah?” he asked, eyes flicking down to your lips for a heartbeat. “You sure?”
You shoved him lightly to break the tension or at least tried to. He didn’t move an inch. Instead, he stepped closer.
Your back hit the ropes. The vinyl was cool against your spine, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body crowding yours. His breath fanned across your skin, warm and uneven from the spar. A drop of sweat slid down his temple, tracing the line of his jaw.
“Try again,” he said softly.
You pushed at his shoulder. He caught your wrist mid‑motion, fingers wrapping around it gently but firmly, his thumb brushing the inside of your wrist right over your pulse.
Your heartbeat jumped and he felt it.
His eyes darkened, gaze dropping to your mouth again, slower this time, deliberate, hungry. The air tightened, every breath you took brushing against his. Your breath mingled, soft and uneven. Your noses brushed the lightest graze, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down your spine. Jey didn't move first, he just looked at you.
It was as if he was memorising the shape of your mouth, the way your chest rose, the way your fingers would curl behind the ropes slightly. His hand slid down from your wrist to waist, his fingers spreading across your hip like he needed the anchor.
His forehead dipped down to yours, it was slow, careful as if he was giving you all the time in the world to pull away, even though neither of you moved. His lips hovered above yours, just close enough that you could feel the warmth of them, close enough that one more breath would've closed the distance. His nose nudged yours again, it was softer this time, intentional.
You felt his breath catch.
His thumb brushed your hip in a slow, unconscious stroke, and his voice was barely a whisper, "Tell me to stop." You didn't and that was all he needed. He leaned in that last inch -
“OH HELL NO.” Naomi’s voice cracked through the room like a whip. You and Jey jerked apart so fast the ropes snapped back with a loud twang. Jimmy stumbled in behind her, eyes wide. “I KNEW IT. I KNEW IT. I TOLD YOU THEY WAS GON’ BE IN HERE DOIN’ SOMETHIN’.”
Naomi pointed at the two of you, scandalized. “Y’all was about to KISS.”
Jey wiped his face with his forearm, cheeks flushed. “No we wasn’t.”
Jimmy screamed. “BRO. YOU WERE BREATHIN’ IN HER MOUTH.”
You covered your face with your hands. “Oh my god.”
Naomi leaned on the ropes, cackling. “This is BETTER than Love Island.”
Jimmy nodded. “This the season finale.”
Jey glared at them. “Why y’all even back so fast?”
Naomi held up her water bottle. “Forgot this.”
Jimmy held up his towel. “Forgot this.”
They both pointed at you and Jey.
Naomi shocked, “But THIS? This is crazy.”
Jimmy leaned his arm on his wife's shoulder and pointed between them, “They gon’ kiss for real next time.”
You and Jey said at the same time, “Shut up.” You looked at him, cheeks flushed, chest still rising a little too fast, eyes soft and warm and locked on you, the moment wasn’t gone. It was just interrupted.
The door finally shut behind Naomi and Jimmy, their laughter echoing down the hallway until it faded completely.
Silence settled over the training room again, but it wasn’t the same silence as before. This one was thick, humming under your skin. You exhaled slowly, trying to steady your heartbeat but it didn't help. Your heartbeat was still racing. Your hands were still gripping the ropes, knuckles white, like your body hadn’t caught up to the interruption yet. Jey cleared his throat, it was a small sound but sharp and then he did the most Jey thing possible.
He pretended absolutely nothing happened.
He stepped back, putting space between you two and wiped his face with the bottom of his shirt, which only made things worse because it exposed the cut lines of his stomach, and said, completely casual, “A’ight. Good spar.”
You blinked. “Good spar?”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding like he hadn’t just been a breath away from kissing you. “You did good.”
You stared at him. “Jey.”
He grabbed his chain off the bench. “What?” Letting the cool metal slide through his fingers.
“You were— we were—” You gestured vaguely between your bodies, still breathless, still warm everywhere he'd touched you
He shrugged, cool as ever. “We was sparrin’.”
“Yeah,” he repeated, avoiding your eyes now. “Just sparrin’.”
You stepped closer. trying to close the space he created, “You were about to kiss me.”
His jaw flexed — the only sign he wasn’t as calm as he pretended.
“I was leanin’ in,” he corrected softly. “Ain’t say nothin’ about kissin’.”
Your stomach flipped. He was lying. And you both knew it. You felot heat rise in your chest, frustration, confusion and something else you didn't want to name, “You really gonna act like nothing happened?”
He finally met your eyes. And for a moment, the mask slipped.
His voice dropped low. “I ain’t actin’ like nothin’. I’m just… tryna be cool.”
He swallowed. “’Cause if I don’t, I’ma do somethin’ stupid.”
Those words hung in the air between you, it felt warm, heavy and too honest. Something in your chest twisted.
Did he really think that something more than a friendship with you is stupid to him?
You stepped back a little, but it was enough for him to notice. “Right,” you said quietly. “Cool.”
Jey frowned. “What that mean?”
“It means,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady, “I don’t know what you want. One second you’re—” You shook your head stopping yourself, “I just… I need a minute.”
You didn’t wait for him to respond. You ducked under the ropes, boots hitting the floor with a soft thud. The room felt too warm, too small, too full of him. You grabbed your water bottle, your bag, just anything to keep your hands busy.
Behind you, Jey stepped forward. “Wait—”
You didn’t turn around. “Jey,” you said, voice tight, “I’m not mad. I just… can’t do the back‑and‑forth right now.”
He went quiet. Completely quiet. And that hurt more than anything. You walked toward the door, each step feeling heavier than the last. Your chest was tight, your throat warm, your heartbeat still uneven from everything that almost happened - and everything that didn’t.
Your hand touched the door handle. You hesitated for half a second, hoping he’d say something - anything.
But he didn’t. He just stood there, silent, unsure, watching you leave.
So you opened the door. And you walked out.
You didn't know where you were going but you just needed to get away and feel like you could breathe again. The hallway felt cooler then the training room but your chest was still tight, your throat warm, your heartbeat refusing to settle. You rounded the corner, head down, trying to breathe.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa—” Naomi’s voice came from behind you. “Baby girl, you good?”
You froze. Of course they were right there. Of course they saw you.
Jimmy stepped beside her, the joking wiped clean off his face the second he saw your expression. “Hey. What happened?”
You shook your head quickly. “Nothing. I’m fine.”
Jimmy frowned, stepping a little closer not crowding you, but just present. “You don’t look fine.”
Naomi touched your arm gently. “Talk to us.”
You let out a shaky breath. “I just… I don’t know what he wants. He almost—” You stopped yourself, heat rising in your cheeks. “Then he acted like it was nothing.”
Naomi sighed softly. “Oh, honey…”
Jimmy rubbed the back of his neck. “Look… my brother? He got a good heart. But he dumb sometimes.”
Naomi elbowed him, giving him a sharp look. “Jimmy.”
“What?” he said, hands up. “I’m not takin’ sides. I love both of y’all. I’m just sayin’ he shuts down when he feels too much.”
You swallowed. “Well, I’m tired of guessing.”
Naomi squeezed your arm. “You did the right thing walking out.”
Jimmy added, “He probably in there pacing like a lost puppy.”
You almost laughed, almost. Naomi smiled. “Come on. Let’s get you some air.”
They walked with you down the hallway, flanking you like protective siblings. You were starting to breathe normally again when voices drifted from around the corner. It was light, flirty, and familiar.
Jimmy stopped walking. “Who the hell is that?”
Naomi’s eyebrows shot up. “Oh?”
You turned the corner and your stomach dropped.
Jey was standing near the catering table. Still shirtless. Still sweaty.
Still looking like trouble. And standing way too close to him was Tiffany Stratton. Her hand was on his arm. Her smile was bright.
Her voice was soft. And Jay wasn't pulling away.
Your chest tightened again, but this time, it wasn’t confusion.
It was jealousy. Hot. Sharp. Immediate.
Jimmy’s eyes widened and leaned slightly toward you. “You okay?”
You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.
Because Tiffany laughed again, her fingers slid a little higher on Jey’s arm.
Jimmy muttered, “If she go any higher, I’m removin’ her hand myself.”
Naomi grabbed his wrist. “Jimmy, stop.”
“I am stoppin’,” he whispered loudly. “Barely.”
But you couldn’t look away. Because Jey finally noticed you. And the second he did - his smile dropped. his posture straightened. his eyes locked on yours like he’d been searching for you.
Tiffany kept talking but Jey didn’t hear a word.
Jimmy exhaled. “Yeah. That’s what I thought.”
Naomi smirked. “Mhm. He only see you.”
Your stomach flipped - jealousy, hurt, and something dangerously close to hope all tangled together.
Tiffany kept talking, oblivious, “…and then I told Shawn that if they want me on—”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jey cut in, eyes never leaving you. “Hold up.” He stepped away from her mid‑sentence. Just walked off without any regret
Tiffany blinked, offended. “Um—excuse me?” But Jey didn’t even hear her. He was already crossing the hallway toward you, and your stomach flipped so hard it hurt.
You straightened your shoulders, forcing your face into something neutral. You were not jealous or bothered at all.
“Y/N,” Jey said, stopping right in front of you. His voice was low, rough, still warm from sparring. He smelled like sweat and cologne and adrenaline.
Your voice came out too fast. “Hey. What’s up. Everything good. I’m fine.”
Jimmy snorted. “Yeah. She real fine.”
You shot him a death glare.
Jey’s eyes narrowed slightly, studying your face. “You sure?”
“Yep,” you said, way too brightly. “Totally fine. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m great.”
Jimmy nodded. “She lyin’ like a politician.”
You clenched your jaw. “I’m. Fine.” Jey stepped closer, too close, and Jimmy immediately slid between you two like a human barricade.
“Back up, Uce,” Jimmy said, hand on Jey’s chest. “She need a second.” Jey’s chest rose under Jimmy’s palm, muscles tensing. “Move.”
Jimmy shook his head. “Not till you chill.”
“I am chill,” Jey said, voice low, eyes locked on you over Jimmy’s shoulder.
“You ain’t,” Jimmy shot back. “You look like you ready to fight somebody.”
Naomi sighed. “Lord, y’all dramatic.”
You took a breath. “Jimmy… it’s okay.”
Jimmy looked at you, then at Jey, then stepped aside slowly and reluctantly, like he didn’t trust either of you not to combust.
Jey wasted no time. He reached out, gently but firmly taking your wrist. His fingers were warm, calloused, steady. “Come here.”
Your breath caught. “Jey—”
“We talkin’,” he said, voice low, leaving no room for argument. He guided you down the hallway, his hand sliding from your wrist to your forearm, then letting go only when you were around the corner - out of sight, out of earshot, the hum of the vending machine the only sound. He turned to face you fully. His chest was still rising from the sparring. His jaw was tight. A bead of sweat slid down his temple.
His eyes were dark, warm, frustrated, scared. “You left,” he said quietly.
You crossed your arms. “I needed space.”
“You ain’t even look at me.”
“You weren’t looking at me either,” you shot back before you could stop yourself.
You exhaled sharply. “Your whole attention was on someone else it seemed,”
Realization hit him like a punch. His lips parted. “You jealous?”
He stepped closer. “You jealous.”
He closed the distance, voice dropping. “Say you not jealous again.”
Your breath stuttered. You couldn’t.
He swallowed hard, eyes searching yours. “You think I care about her?”
You looked away. “I don’t know what you care about.” He flinched, actually flinched, like the words hit him somewhere deep. Then he stepped even closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him.
“I care about you,” he said, voice low, raw, unguarded. “Too much. That’s the problem.”
Your heart stopped. He kept going, the words spilling out like he’d been holding them back for months.
“I ain’t actin’ cool ’cause I don’t want you,” he said. “I’m actin’ cool ’cause I want you too much. And I don’t know how to not mess that up.”
Your chest tightened, “Jey…”
He shook his head, voice barely above a whisper, “Just tell me you feel it too.” His vouce was low, raw and unguarded.
The hallway felt too small, too warm, too full of him. Your pulse thudded in your ears. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice but it still came out shaky. "I do."
Jey froze. The words hit him in someplace deep inside of him. Like he'd been waiting for them without letting himself hope.
“I’m tired of pretending nothing’s happening. I’m tired of acting like I don’t care when I do. I’m tired of you pulling me close and then acting like it meant nothing.”
Jey exhaled sharply, like the words knocked the wind out of him. “I ain’t act like it meant nothin’,” he said, voice rough. “I acted like it meant too much.”
Your breath caught. He took another step closer to you. Both of your body heat hugging each other as there was a faint tremble in his fingers. His eyes kept dropping to your mouth and snapping back up, “I want you,” he said, barely above a whisper. “I been wantin’ you. And I’m done pretendin’ I don’t.”
Your breath hitched. Because that was it. That was the thing you’d been waiting for. The thing he’d been fighting. You lifted your chin slightly, voice soft. “Then stop fighting it.”
Jey inhaled sharply, a quiet, shaky breath that gave him away completely. His hand came up slowly, like he was giving you time to pull back. His fingers brushed your jaw, warm and careful. You leaned into the touch before you could think.
That was all he needed. He closed the distance. The kiss wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t messy. It wasn’t desperate. It was slow and intentional, like he’d been holding it in for months and finally let himself breathe. His other hand slid to the back of your neck, steady and gentle, pulling you just a little closer. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself because your knees felt unsteady.
The world went quiet.
No Tiffany.
No Naomi.
No Jimmy.
Just the two of you and the warmth of his mouth on yours.
When he finally pulled back barely an inch his forehead rested against yours, breath warm against your lips. “See?” he whispered. “Told you I was gon’ do somethin’ stupid.”
You smiled, breathless. “That wasn’t stupid.” He smiled too — small, soft, real. “Nah,” he murmured. “That was overdue.”
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