Whoops. (For Jean!)

Well, it's now or never. You gotta tell him.

After he was paraded up the ramp by Jean, the Trojan remembered something that, well, the events of the previous match had made him forget. See, he had offered to supply his own pair of cuffs for the AFW staff to use, but he ended up never telling them that he kept the key back at his place. He figured he was going there anyway because he would win, and it wouldn't be a problem!

Except it was a problem. A big one.

After Jean finished marching him up the ramp and posing him for pictures, which he was more than willing to play the defeated party for, he was led into the locker room, where he tried to reach out and grab Jean's hand and stop him from moving. "Well, just…so you know, I might have made a small error." He gave him the same look he gave when he knocked the cuffs over the side of the ring. "See, I supplied the handcuffs for the AFW staff, because I had a nice new shiny pair of handcuffs and I just…wasn't sure where the other cuffs had been! But I…might have forgotten the key at home."

If he had managed to grab Jean's hand, he would use it to tug him in -- if he didn't, he would tug on his own chains, both ways trying to result in him getting Jean against his nearly naked, sweating frame. "Do you mind ah…coming to my apartment with me to get it? We'll start your reward then. Besides, you've bested me in close quarters combat. I'll need your massive amount of strength to make sure I get home okay!" He gave Jean that cheesy grin, just sorta proving that what he said was partly a joke. Y'know, everything except for the missing key.

Once Jean had lead the Trojan backstage, he pretty much let go of the cuffs and let him walk on his own. They were both headed for the locker room anyways. Jean was all ready to get his stuff together and get out of there, but he was stopped when his hand was grabbed. Curious, Jean turned to see the taller man doing his best to look earnestly sorry.

Apparently these cuffs were his, and he forgot the key because he thought he was gonna win anyway. Jean shook his head and laughed to himself, this guy really was a whole other level of goofball. Trojan tried to yank him close but Jean stiff-armed the man's chest to deny his attempt at further flirtation. At first Jean's eyes judged him with scrutiny, wondering if the man had ulterior motives of some sort. His gaze began to soften as he remembered the way the man acted beneath the ring with his guard supposedly down, and how difficult it would be to try to make it back to his own apartment in cuffs.

Jean rolled his eyes with a sigh, but a smile worked it's way across his face to betray his true feelings. "Ugh, fine..." he sighed, sliding his hand free of Trojan's grip and placing it on his waist. "Just hurry up and get ready, my back is killing me"

Jean then sauntered off towards his locker, changing out of his ring attire and taking a quick rinse under the showers to get refreshed. He changed into a black shirt with wings emblazoned on the back and a snug pair of jeans. He slung his gym bag over his shoulder and went to wait outside the locker room door for his "captive".

Spoiler:

The Trojan smiled as Jean did, giving him a small wink. He knew that Jean was thinking about their moment beneath the mat, and it was enough to get him to come back with him. Ulterior motives? Well, of course he did, but they just involved getting Jean to decide that he wanted to have sex with him as his reward. Not even to force himself onto him, but to get Jean to decide it himself.

He let Jean go, realizing it would be pretty hard to shower in his predicament. So was putting clothes on. "I'll shower back at my place after you release me, oh master of mine!" he called out, adding the ending title as a small tease. It was nice to know that Jean at least trusted him enough to not think there was anything bad waiting for him at his place.

Trojan walked over to his locker with a hum, extracting his pants from the locker and slowly tugging them on, giving a small grunt and slamming into his row of lockers. It was like a comedic sketch, really. Of course, he looked at his shirt and shook his head, before grabbing a pair of flip flops and tugging them on. He typically only wore those for navigating the locker room, but he couldn't get real shoes on like this.

After keeping Jean waiting at the doorway for him to finish half dressing himself, he finally joined him. "That was a great match, by the way," he remarked, as if trying to talk about something other than his "error". "If you kept me in that dragon sleeper any longer, I was gonna pass out for the next half hour, easy. It would have been great dreams, though." He winked at Jean, leading them out of the building to the exit closest to his place.

Jean grinned and scratched the back of his head when he was complimented about a job well done. "Thanks, I really enjoyed wrestling you too" he grinned, gesturing for the man to take the lead. "You might have had me if you pressed your lead and used more power, but it was all downhill after you fell victim to these luscious lips" he said with exaggerated gusto, ribbing the man in the side. He followed the shirtless captive out the building and into the cool night air. They'd get a few odd stares as they walked down to the street where Jean would hail them a cab.

He'd have Trojan tell them the address, and from there it was a pleasant, if somewhat awkward, ride to the man's apartment. Mostly because the driver kept making comments about Trojan being sweaty and dirty and messing up the interior. Having noticed that it was somewhat difficult for Trojan to get in the first time, he offered his hand politely to assist him in getting out. Jean paid the driver with cash from his wallet, and then turned to smile at Trojan expectantly.

"Well? Let's not stand out here all night, I'll turn into a popsicle" he grinned, nudging the man in the side.

Trojan laughed at the comment about his "luscious lips", reaching up to scratch his head. "Yes, well, how could I resist lips like yours? Besides, I have to admit, I'm not the most flexible person! When you got me in that submission hold, I was going to try and tap out, I swear." He grinned, appreciating the fact that they could talk about the match without anyone getting angry. It was fantastic.

When he got the cab, he grunted as he managed to get in, reciting the address from memory. Of course, at the comments from the cab driver, he didn't respond much, just kinda sunk in his seat a bit more. When they got to his place, he blinked -- and took Jean's hand with a soft smile, following him out. Though he did turn back and give the cab driver a tip, a denomination that Jean couldn't see, "for his troubles". That seemed to make the driver change his mind on the two of them, as he thanked them profusely. He turned back to Jean, giving him a smile and nodding. He'd find a way to sneak the money back into Jean's wallet later.

They stood in front of a large apartment building; a beautiful place, really. He waved to the doorman on their way in, who didn't seem to be too surprised by Trojan showing up the way he did. He walked into the elevator and dug into his pocket for the keys, jamming it into the elevator once Jean got in. It whirred to life, bringing them all the way up to the top floor, which there wasn't even a number for on the pad.

And then the doors opened.

It was like a scene from a "top ten places to live" article. It opened into a larger than normal living room, a huge television mounted on the wall and a set of furniture just lying there. Off to the side was a desk, cluttered with papers. There were several hallways branching off, and if Jean looked, he could probably see a bathroom down one of them with a pretty large jacuzzi.

Trojan didn't seem to notice that his apartment was probably pretty lush. He just walked forward, over to the desk, and shuffled around the papers -- before finally, making a soft "ah!" sound and grabbed the key. He walked back to Jean, offering the key to him. "The honor is all yours, master." That grin was plastered on his face again, and he had even gone down on one knee to let Jean unlock him. He was having fun with this.

Jean grinned to himself when the doorman greeted Trojan without any reaction whatsoever. Was he used to this kind of behavior, or was he just very professional? The rocker followed his captive into a fancy elevator, and was impressed when he had a key that took them to a floor not even listed. When the doors opened, Jean's jaw began to drop and he probably would have stood in the elevator starstruck till the doors closed had he not been ushered inside.

As a former rockstar, Jean was familiar with house parties in the mansions of the rich and famous, but this apartment felt like it was on a whole new level. It made his own decently sized place feel like a Motel 6. His eyes darted every which way as he followed Trojan over to the desk, causing him to not pay attention and softly bump into his back.

"Arghh, sorry, it's just...." Jean said as he started back off and apologize, but then fell quiet when Trojan got down on one knee. He started to smile and then burst into a laugh when he saw the half-dressed man presenting him the key like he was some medieval knight. "You're such a dork" Jean teased as he took the key and unlocked Trojan's cuffs, leaving the key in his palm as he went back to looking around.

Right about now Jean wasnt sure what to think of this guy. If he had a place of this size, he had to be unimaginably wealthy, and if that were the case, why did he even bother working? You could probably just sell all the things in the apartment and still live comfortably for generations. As much as he thought he had pegged Trojan's persona, he was suddenly this great, intriguing mystery. "Your place is really something else, Trojan......Erm, is there something else I can call you besides your ring name? It's strange to say outside work..."

Trojan gave him a grin as he called him a dork, but he still took off the cuffs. Setting them onto the table for a moment, he shifted forward to watch Jean as he moved around. The kitchen itself looked like something straight out of a restaurant, and, if Jean looked down the left hallway, he could see a bedroom full of baubles and decorations, a room bigger than most studio apartments. "I know, I know. It's massive. Wasn't sure what I was gonna do when I first moved here, so I bought a nice, big place and a lot of stuff. It's like a second home to me now." He smiled lightly before turning back to Jean.

Of course, he laughed as he was asked about a name. "Ah, apologies! Call me…Nero. Nero Arkedia. It's a pleasure to formally meet you, Jean." He watched Jean for a moment, to see if he would recognize the last name. Not many people did, but he just wanted to know if Jean could, y'know, actually remember the names from foreign countries.

Off to the side of one of the tables was a laptop, half opened. Nero shifted over quickly to the table and moved to close the laptop as if there was something hiding on there, before giving Jean a small smile. "Yes, I…come from a lot of money. Needed to get away for a bit, so I came here, to Japan. Found the AFW, thought it would be fun."

"Nice to meet the real you then, Nero" Jean smiled, scratching the back of his head. Arkedia.....That name sounded super familiar for some reason, but he couldn't quite place where he knew it from. As he continued to look around in amazement, he tried to find the right balance between curiosity and rude nosiness, but it was hard to not look like a kid in a candy store.

His attention was drawn back to Nero when he quickly shuffled over to the table and closed his laptop. Nope, that wasn't suspicious at all.....BUT! Jean was a guest in the man's home, even if he had "won" Nero in the match, it didn't mean he ought to be rude.

"I kinda know how you feel, it's like why I got out of music. It was all getting to just be too much, it was all about money and drugs and sex and not about the music, which sounds more cliche than it really is. I just needed to get out before it consumed me, like it did my bandmates" Jean sighed, feeling strangely relatable to what he imagined Nero was talking about. In his head he judged Nero to be a mega-rich trust fund baby who hadn't quite figured what he wanted yet, and was playing at being an AFW wrestler because he had nothing better to do with his time and money.

Jean walked past Nero as he searched for the living room, and then plopped himself down a black couch, grateful for the soft comfort it provided. "So did you want to shower or change or anything? I haven't quite decided what I want to do with you yet, mainly because I'm trying to be cool and not geek out over your place. Is it working?" he asked with a sheepish grin as he leaned back and idly traced his hand across the fabric.

Nope. No recognition. Maybe a small memory of hearing the name before, but that was it -- he couldn't place it. Otherwise, this conversation would be playing out a lot differently. For now, he settled to let Jean look around in utter amazement, his lips coiled in a small smile. He'd been paired up with possibly the best choice. He couldn't have asked for someone better -- this boy was too sweet.

"Ah, yes. It's a lot like that, actually." He thought about it for a moment, before nodding. Though then he looked back up at Jean. "So, you went to wrestling instead? That makes sense." He knew Jean was judging him, trying to figure out his history, his story -- and he let him. For now, at least. Let's just see where this would take him.

As Jean flopped onto the couch, Nero moved forward, before leaning over the back of the sofa. "It's working, all right. But you can totally geek out over my place. My house is yours. Partly because I'm yours for today." He leaned down -- and kissed him again, giving him that chaste kiss like he did under the mat. "Well, depends. How do you like your men?" He shifted around to the front of the couch -- and posed for him, flexing. He was taking this "slave" thing not too seriously, obviously, but he was taking the mandatory "serving" seriously. Wasn't often he had to do that.

He moved over to Jean, putting his hands on either side of his head. "It's up to you, Jean. How would you like me?"

Jean laughed when Nero made fun of his career change, it really didn't make too much sense according to his agent either. But so far it had made him happy and he felt like he was entertaining people again, so things were working out. He watched his "slave" walk around the back of the couch and lean over hip, delivering the gentlest of kisses that didn't feel like he was teasing or obligated to do so. It made Jeans insides tingle faintly, but that was perhaps just his nerves getting to him. Strange place, strange man, yeah, that was it....

Jean's smile turned into a smirk when Nero put on a show for him, flexing and posing for dramatic effect. It stirred something inside him and inside his jeans, and he gave him a whistle of approval. So far the "slave" was doing a better job of fulfilling his role than the "master", as Jean was pretty hesitant to boss around a man he'd met only hours ago. That would soon change once he'd warmed up to him and gotten comfortable, but for now he was always on-guard with practiced manners.

But then Nero had to go and rock his world again when he loomed over the couch and rested his arms next to Jean's head. It started to make that tingly stomach feeling more intense, until Jean could no longer lie to himself about it any longer. Damn that Cupid, he was starting to crush on this guy....

"Just be yourself" Jean answered honestly as the breath began to hitch in his throat. If he didn't lean up and kiss that man soon, he was probably gonna go blue in the face. Getting up on his knees, Jean sat up between Nero's arms, tracing the outline of the mans chiseled chest beneath his palms. Slowly he tilted his head up and leaned in for another kiss, taking his time to fully savor the feeling and the moment.