The medic might be mad, but Darby is not, and that seems more important.
The good kind probably-in-need-of-a-pay-rise folk in medical are kind of mad, capital M mad, at Matt and Nick. Matthew and Nicholas. Mostly Matt, or maybe he’s absorbing ire in proportion with how gently guilty he feels. Cause he knows that it is actually his specific fault that Darby’s sat up on a table, getting his nose taped in place while trying to stare with bleary eyes at his phone over/around the medic’s arms.
For this reason, Matt is hovering just outside of the doorway, shifting his weight from foot to foot. No, he’s not worried the medic is going to vengefully stab him or anything, but being looked at in any sort of angry or mean way would feel much the same.
Darby is trying – he said this out loud like he was trying to stop the medic getting too mad at him – email his real doctor with a whoopsy, you’ll never believe what happened. Matt’s not too sure how well Darby can see his screen right now anyway. Even if he hadn’t been recently kicked in the face, the thing is kind of shattered, held together by a screen protector.
There’s finally the whoosh of an email being sent, and then Darby puts his phone down and casts his eyes around – first to Matt, and then to the ceiling with a grin and a wince. “Man, my nose doc is gonna be pissed. He kinda said there’d be no problems wrestling as long as I kept the face guard on.”
As if on cue, the medic yanks gauze out of Darby’s nose a little rougher than necessary and says over the sound of his hey ow, “You’re not bleeding anymore. There’s officially nothing more I can do for you – except recommend that you get your nose set again and stop letting people kick you in the face.”
They don’t even turn to look at Matt or acknowledge him, but it does feel bad, all the same, exactly like he thought it would. But Darby just grins. Depending on the mood or second that you catch him it looks either sharp and kind of cruel, or kind of dopey, and with a swollen nose full of tack mark punctures his smile is all the way over to dopey. Matt’s heart does a stupid little flutter. The medic might be mad, but Darby is not, and that seems more important.
He squeezes up against the wall to be out of the way when the medic brushes past, leaving Darby armed with an ice pack and nothing else. He presses the pack to his face. It’s wrapped up in a bunch of paper towel. He squints at Matt over the top of it, who takes the opportunity and empty room to stand in front of Darby, shifting his weight from foot to foot. He changed his shoes. Didn’t want to keep dropping tacks all over the arena.
Morosely: “Does it really hurt?”
“Yeah,” Darby says, nasal and muffled and thick all at once. “But whatever, I’d let you do it again, y’know. Not many people can say they’ve been hung upside down and kicked in the face by the Bucks.”
“By your EVPs,” Matt says, arms folded across his body, shuffling a bit closer to Darby. “Who you respect. Greatly.” He wants to kiss Darby. It’s kind of a kiss to make himself feel better, perching in his muscles, and he’s pretty sure that Darby knows cause he lowers the ice pack and blinks all cattish-like at Matt. He will almost always let Matt do that kind of thing, little flourishes of physical affection that Matt would probably die without, like Tinkerbell.
Matt says quietly, “I’ll be careful.” Then he leans in, carefully tilts his head and chin to press his mouth to Darby’s whilst almost entirely avoiding his nose. It’s swollen and bruising, so that’s quite the accomplishment.
Darby jumps away with a hiss, though, leaning back and out of Matt’s grasp.
“Oh, crap, did I get you?”
“No,” Darby says, lifting a hand to his mouth, looking puzzled, and then he says “Oh,” at the exact same time that Matt squeaks, “Oh my god.”
“Is that a,” Darby starts, and Matt’s already very gently holding his face very still and leaning in to inspect the round and distinct puncture wound directly in his lip.
“Thumbtack hole,” Matt finishes for him, a little miserable-guilty and a lot an inappropriate amount of fascinated. He really did get Darby. His thumb nudges Darby’s lip very very carefully, pushing the wound into the light. “That’s really cool, I’m so sorry.”
Darby’s tongue darts out to taste the wound and he kind of licks Matt’s thumb in the process. Neither of them react. He muses, “Sorry that it’s cool or sorry that it’s your fault?”
“Both?” Matt shrugs, and drops his hands from Darby’s face entirely, instead scooping up his hands. He still wants to kiss Darby, and he flounders in the interim, and then on impulse pulls Darby’s hands up to his mouth.
Darby giggles when Matt presses kisses to each set of knuckles. Not a mean giggle but a little self-conscious of being loved. He falls quiet after one or two kisses, as Matt counts Darby’s knuckles with his mouth, and when Matt looks up Darby’s just smiling quietly.
Matt would really feel better if he could kiss Darby properly. This is pretty good too, though. The silence hangs heavier than he’d like, so: “It was really fun to kick you in the face.”
Darby laughs, at that, mouth a wide open grin, then before he can complain that laughing makes his face hurt, Matt lifts the icepack back up and gingerly presses it to his swollen nose.
Two bucks, antlers locked together under the ice. They have matching markings; the same color fur, the same markings and spots. Brothers, most likely.
Darby tuts as he steps over the ice. He stares down at the creatures stuck underneath. “What happened to you two?” Were they fighting? Maybe playing, playing too hard, and then got stuck. Then they panic, and decide if they can’t get unstuck, they die together. It’s love, if Darby’s ever seen it. Love that led to their demise.
Darby’s not the biggest fan of sad endings.
He cracks the ice. Breaks it until the water breathes again.
He reaches down, oh so carefully past the freezing water. His hand touches the antlers.
Their heads rear against his hand, jerking away, flailing under the water with newfound life.
Darby grabs ahold of one-set-turned-two and pulls.
They come up, gasping, stuck and trying to get unstuck and away and out of the water, trying to appreciate life and run from death.
“Hey- hey,” Darby says, sternly. “Stay still.”
They flail until they don’t, until they pant and go near motionless, and watch Darby with a careful side-eye.
Darby unhooks their antlers after minutes of touching and feeling the curves and angles, looking for the way to relieve them without pain. They slide out just as easy as they got stuck.
They gasp and look at each other. They embrace, almost locking together again from excitement.
“If both of you are drowning,” Darby asks, “who’s gonna pull you both up?”
They look at Darby. They tilt their heads, look down, look everywhere but their target.
“I don’t know,” Matt says, sniffling. He pulls Nick closer to him, pressing their faces together. He shivers against his brother.
Nick is the only to match Darby’s eyes. “You pulled us up,” he says.
Darby sits. His hands lock behind his head. “You want me?”
“Why not?”
“Lots of reasons.”
“Who pulls you up out of the water?” Matt asks.
Darby goes quiet. Looks down, brings his knees in to his chest.
“We can do that,” Matt continues. “We can pull you out. If you pull us out.”
Darby thinks about antlers. He never had any, never was a buck. Too small. He wouldn’t match.
But he wouldn’t get stuck like they did. No, he’s got the hands that grip and pull. And antlers can do many things he cannot do without them.
“Yeah,” he finally says, looking up. “Yeah, I can- I can do that.”
They do get their antlers stuck again, then. They laugh and smile and pull each other down, not caring if they crash through the ice again, because Darby’s there, Darby will get them out, Darby will save them.
darby allin in may 2022 being asked who he wants to feud with and without missing a beat says the bucks before giggling. "there's something about them."
i'm trying to seek out obscure darby + bucks things, and matt and his kid appearing on the box for the darby wrestling buddy has absolutely taken me out
Nothin' as such.
Just one of those evenings when all my "WHY DID I DO THAT?!?!" crap decides to float around my head.
I really embarrass myself sometimes.=]
