Title: Third Time's A Charm
Author: Ashley
Rating: PG-13 for language.
Pairing: Matt/MVP
Warning: language, angst.
Disclaimer: Matthew and Montel own themselves. Actually Matt, but Matt thinks it's the other way around. It's a messy situation, this is.
Summary: History repeats itself. One-shot.
Matthew Moore Hardy is a hypocrite.
Matt came to this realization as he readied himself for bed. He took a deep breath and used one hand to finish drying himself off, the other making a clear spot in the steam-coated bathroom mirror. The reflection gazing back at him sort of looked like him - he knew for sure that it was himself that he was seeing - but between the condensation and paranoia his face was warped in a way that really creeped him the fuck out.
Shuddering, he directed his gaze away from his own eerie countenance and down to his stomach, where he suddenly realized that he'd been absently fingering the small scar there. Yeah, those internet trolls could make fun of him all they wanted ("Fatt Lardy! Matthew needs Subway!"); he knew he wasn't that out of shape. As if life hadn't fucked him over by handing him a pair of crazy bowlegs, it had also given him a weak abdominal wall and due to his pleasantly retarded body, he had managed to suffer through what Jeff had gleefully dubbed "The Great Intestinal Explosion of 2009." At least he'd finally gotten the muscles surgically repaired and soon he could get back into training and back into the ring.
Montel never complained about the way he looked, Matt told himself. Then again, that was just Montel's way of being nonchalant with damn near everything and damn if that wasn't one of the reasons that Matt loved him. He'd never told Montel that, of course, because even though they were dating exclusively, they're both men and sorry, dudes just don't go around saying that sort of girly shit.
At least not as far as Matt was concerned, anyway.
Sure, there were times where Montel would run his hand absently through Matt's hair while they watched TV, or occasionally Matt would circle his arms around Montel's waist whilst they were both enjoying morning coffee in Matt's backyard, but that was okay, wasn't it? Didn't make either of them a bitch, right? Matt smiled. Nah, they still looked good in the macho department.
A shrill ringing shook Matt out of his thoughts, and he swore when he stubbed his big toe on the doorframe as he made his way into his room. Grabbing his cell phone, he stepped out into the hallway and grunted, "Motherfucking…what, dude?"
"Well, aren't you just a ray of fucking sunshine?" Montel's voice replied, and Matt could hear the smirk on the other end of the line.
"Sorry, just ran into a wall trying to get to the phone," Matt said.
Montel laughed at that. "For Christ's sake, Matt, I know you're pretty clumsy but don't kill yourself on my account."
"Don't flatter yourself. You looked good tonight, by the way."
"Glad you noticed. Jack almost tore my arm off, though. I guess he didn't become All-American for nothing."
Matt couldn't help smirking. "Oh, stop being a girl. I had fucking surgery two weeks ago and you didn't hear me bitching!"
"Shut up, dicksmack."
"Bitch."
"Don't talk about yourself that way," Montel admonished, and Matt snorted. "Did you see Chris's segment about the tag titles and Adam?" Matt paused for a second, and Montel pressed, "You there?"
"Sorry. Yeah, I saw it. I laughed so hard. Adam's a fucking gimp." Matt chewed at his bottom lip, worrying it between his teeth until the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.
"Have you heard from Adam since his surgery?" Montel asked.
Matt nodded and then mentally smacked himself because duh, it's not like Montel could fucking see it. "Yeah, talked to him today. He's doing as well as can be expected, I guess."
There was an awkward silence, and Matt knew that they were both thinking of their friend and his questionable future.
"So," Montel began, "speaking of surgery…how are you doing?"
"I'm fine." Matt wiped at his mouth, grimacing when his hand came away bloodstained.
"Y'know, even with your Smackdown move…it's like…I'm glad that I'll be getting a few days off soon. I'm not getting my daily dose of dumbass." Montel said this in a voice that was sort of half-embarrassed but completely sincere, which amused the hell out of Matt.
"Ha! Admit it, you totally miss me and want me there with you, right?" he teased, laughing out loud when he heard Montel spluttering.
"I never said that!"
"You don't have to say it, dirtbag. I can hear it in your voice."
"Man, you bring a new kind of crazy to the table. I think you've been spending too much time on the internet or something."
Matt frowned. "Well, if I didn't, there would be no webcam. So then you couldn't watch me --"
Montel interrupted him. "You've got a point there, but I don't need you getting me all fucking worked up without you here to take care of it." Then he went on, "Listen, Matt, I'm getting tired. I'm going to let you go, okay?"
"Sure," Matt replied, somewhat intrigued by the weird-ass mushiness that his boyfriend seemed to suddenly display. "I know you're dying to get off the phone and jack off to my picture."
"Fuck you!"
"Eventually. "
More pleasantries of this type were exchanged before Matt hung up the phone. He entered his bedroom much quieter than he had exited it and slid into his bed, doing his best to not disturb the sleeping figure next to him. Satisfied that his bedmate was still asleep, he lay on his back and stared up at the ceiling.
A few seconds later he felt an arm slide around his waist and he cursed under his breath. Well, shit. He needed to learn to be a better sneak.
"Who was that?"
Matt turned around and looked into Adam's tired face. He knew that Adam knew, but he answered him anyway.
"Montel."
Silence. Matt swallowed and allowed Adam to brush a few errant dark curls out of his face.
"You're going to have to tell him one day, you know."
"Yeah."
Adam flashed him a devious smile. "Well." He pulled Matt closer and at that moment Matt didn't want to think about what would happen in the next few weeks. He pressed his face into Adam's shoulder, breathing in his scent before drifting into a dreamless slumber.
