Kazuchika Okada and Kenny Omega!
Are You Trying To Kill Me!?
“What the hell was that!?” Okada yelled, shoving Kenny’s chest- pushing him into the stage equipment cases. “Whoa, ease up.” Omega whispered, still trying to catch his breath from the stellar match.
January 4th, and it’s already up for match of the year. Amazing. “Okada, we did great, man… U-eh.. You retained. What’s your deal?” Kenny started to raise his voice, realizing that Kazuchika had no real reason to be so hostile. “My deal!” He pitched, batting back to Omega. “Maybe that I’d like to keep my head and not have neck surgery before I’m thirty! Are you trying to kill me!?” Kenny’s hands flew to a surrendering state.
“I apologize. It was a bad spot, not intentional.” He said, calmly. Okada’s face scrunched, opposite of the normal state it was always in. “Both times?” He pushed, shoving his pointer into Kenny’s peck. Curls bounced and bobbed every which way with Okada’s accusation. “I’m not trying to hurt you!” Kenny yelled back, offended.
Okada relaxed his features, and retracted his finger. “Okay..” He said under his breath, still standing dangerously close. A wicked smirk laced Kenny’s lips with the help of a raised brow. A mood Kenny knew all too well.
A huff of disbelief and almost disgust later, Okada was out of Omega’s face- strolling his way back to his dressing room. His hands skimmed the cold metal of the door’s knob, and he turned his back to see Kenny once more. Kenny traced his thumb and index finger across his bottom lip, and shot Kazuchika a familiar wink.
If they both weren’t so God damn tired, Kenny just might have followed him.