~To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved – George MacDonald~

~~x~~

I hurt myself today
To see if I still feel
I focus on the pain
The only thing that's real

~~x~~

Jeff had only been lurking in Matt's room to find some of the many CD's that he wanted to rip onto his new iPod for his important flight down to Florida. He'd rummaged for over an hour in the storage crate that lived in the bottom of Matt's walk in closet to no avail, scattering discs, cases and inlay booklets all over the floor. He was in the process of stacking the strewn discs back in some semblance of order when he'd heard the footsteps in the hallway. After the pounding of the steps came a harsh, barked order of "Kneel." and the voice was only too familiar. Matt was home and the man who seemed have the power to control his every move was certainly not far behind.

The bump he heard gave him a vivid mental image of his brother dropping to his knees just outside the closed door, head bent in a show of his submission to the latest man that had seemingly taken possession of his sense and his soul. As the reconstruction in his minds' eye grew more colourful and vivid Jeff felt the nausea bubbling in the pit of his stomach. He'd heard their goings on before, bearing witness to the sounds of lust driven violence and words of humiliation and hatred that filled the air when they were together in session. Many nights he'd covered his head with a pillow to try and shut out the haunting howls and repeated begging that tormented him in a Carolinian twang so closely matched to his own.

The worst thing about Matt's choices was always the standing by and watching it all unravel. The initial hazy passionate love and surrendered obedience that turned into either abandonment or legitimate fist fights and hours of Jeff spent stroking his brother's tear soddened hair as he wondered out loud why another man had beat him down and then walked away. Only one had ever really stuck around and ironically he was the harshest of them all. The mere mention of Adam's name or the sight of his face, in person or on screen, was enough to send Jeff into the blind rage that he'd previously kept caged since being a child. Jeff considered himself to be reasonably mild mannered but his hatred for Copeland ran deep and knew no bounds. Seeing the marks appearing on his elder brother night after night and week after week had been difficult for him. He'd tolerated the line of visitors who panned out to be extra participants in their sick games, constantly trying to find moments to corner Matt on his own to get to the truth.

Whatever the question was that Jeff had to ask, the answer was always the same. Matt was always fine, always 'happy'. More so in the first few days or weeks when his skin and eyes glowed with the flush of satisfaction and desire. Then the fade would begin; the dark spiral into the reclusive nature that would see Matt holed up for days without light or company when he used music to suffocate the noise of his tears as they poured from reddened eyes. All he'd leave his room for was to eat and even that was a rarity. So many times the same ritual and routine, so many times the highs and the lows at such polarized extremes. Jeff often thought of the way he was described as extreme. If the truth be told he had nothing on his brother.

He'd played a significant part in getting Adam out of Matt's life, going beyond his usual distant observation and making sure that a message was sent clearly that Adam should stay away for good. Kimo and Shannon had called the favours in on his behalf and had taken hell from Matt when it all came to light. The blazing rows were followed by Matt refusing to speak to them for months until he got back on his feet and saw that maybe they'd had a point in doing what they did, still with no idea who was truly behind the ploy. Jeff had tried then to get him to give up the way of life that seemed to be causing all his distress but he'd remained adamant that he was not going to let Adam break him. The trouble was that Jeff was fairly convinced that Matt was already broken and wasn't sure who or what would ever been able to remedy that.

~~x~~

And you could have it all
My empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

~~x~~

The door clicked open and swung back letting the artificial light from the landing spill into the otherwise dim room. Not wanting to interrupt or cause a scene Jeff pulled the slatted closet doors shut quietly and sat cross-legged on the floor. He reasoned that as always they'd go and shower first in the main bathroom and would just be dropping their coats or clothes in Matt's room. Such little rituals would have been quite endearing had they not been followed regularly by the grunts of nothing more than base aggression and the near-disturbing desperate begging. Matt always locked the door if he knew Jeff was around after he'd run in on him once before and gone apeshit, dragging Matt off the stool he'd been restrained over, unable to take the sound of his brother pleading for forgiveness and mercy, saying things about how he'd take anything his Master wanted to give if it meant he could keep the collar that hung around his neck.

Jeff never understood the collar his brother willingly accepted and displayed like a badge of honour. It always spoke to him as something that an animal, indeed even a pet might wear and was certainly not something that a human should sport so proudly. Matt had tried on occasion to explain to him what it meant but none of it made sense. They'd come to blows over it more than once and it sickened Jeff to think that his moments of unbridled anger might have stirred more in his sibling than just the urge to hit back.

He watched in the darkness as both men came into view from his hiding place, Matt slowly taking off all his clothes before starting work on his Master's outfit. With his eyes bowed in absolute deference he folded the stripped clothing neatly and placed it in a pile on the Ottoman at the foot of the bed. A large hand came up and curled around Matt's jaw, the thumb moving slowly across the pinking skin. Jeff heard the tail end of the purring noises emanating from his brother's pursed lips and turned his eyes to the blank nearside interior wall, failing to find anything to distract him.

Jeff covered his ears with the long sloppy sleeves of the sweatshirt he was wearing and watched their lips move as if he was in some independent cinema watching a sinister silent movie. He suppressed a laugh as he thought about how it'd be to sit there with a bucket of popcorn as the plot unfolded. However, as he saw the leather cuffs being secured around Matt's wrists all thoughts of laughter left him and silent disappointment and concern replaced them.

Unable to tear his eyes away Jeff watched as Matt got on all fours on the bed, complying automatically with not so much as a blink. He watched as the session started; rough touches and slaps leading to a strong hand sliding down into intimate spaces that he had never envisaged seeing violated and abused before despite the unintentional eavesdropping his adjacent bedroom afforded. Jeff had only ever believed in spiritual and passionate sex, wanting his lovers to zone out through the thrill and intensity of their experience, never once able to accept Matt's argument that he was seeking a different means to the same end.

Closing his eyes he recalled their last argument. That was about the collar; what it meant, what it signified. He'd torn the leather away from his sibling's neck with his bare hands, that was the degree of anger and emotion it brought forth in him. To Jeff it was too soon after Adam for Matt to be in the right place to offer his body up for use again so readily. He wasn't playing at home for fear of upsetting Jeff but the bruises and bite marks on his neck and back were all the evidence Jeff needed to do the simple math of the equation. His last memory of the fight though was the broken look in Matt's eyes; a look that had haunted him day and night since he'd done it. Sure, it had been replaced with a finer piece accompanied by a more secure fastening but Jeff had no intentions of every trying to remove it again.

The way Matt looked at him chilled his soul that day. He felt like one of the men that brutalised his brother and left him cowering and terrified in a heap on the floor. His only relief was that he knew that was never going to flick any switches for Matt apart from the one that killed the light in his room as he closed the door. He remembered being stood there with the shredded material in his hands and for a split second wondering what it would feel like against his own skin, to wear it and surrender, to be taken. The second that he brought it within an inch of his neck it was if a forcefield around him rejected it and he tossed it into the trashcan where it languished until it was emptied away. Jeff Hardy was nobody's slave. Not now, not ever.

~~x~~

What have I become?
My sweetest friend
Everyone I know
Goes away in the end

~~x~~

The temporary silence of the room was shattered harshly. No matter what Jeff did to try and block the sights and sounds he felt possessed to watch; his wide eyes peering through the gaps in the slats. Every heartless and regardless thrust into his brother's trembling body was accompanied by a sneered insult; words that were meant to hurt, to bring shame, to make Matt submit.

"...don't make me humiliate you like this again... spread your legs for me and offer me the use of your ass...I've got you at my mercy...there's no way out for you….my special little pain whore…all for your own good ...my cheap and nasty, busted up little fuck toy...I made a dirty mess of you, slut...now clean me up and do it properly..."

The words echoed deep into the dark recesses of Jeff's mind and he was unable to rationalise why his brother appeared to be responding as he did. All Jeff could see was Matt allowing it to happen having already allowed himself to be bound and blindfold. The stifled grunts of obscene pleasure poured over the bitten-to-bleeding lips as his body was clearly accepting and welcoming the harsh pounding. It sent a shudder down his spine knowing that he was almost party to the treatment his brother was receiving but he knew in that moment that however powerless he was to stop it, the same could not be said for Matt.

He watched on as the older man reached his arm around and stroked the angry looking erection just once before Matt's body convulsed and the wails began, the deep painful sounding moan making Jeff wince, knowing that he'd often made noises like that himself under his own lovers. Matt wasn't in pain, he was in ecstasy and that thought terrified Jeff. How could someone so strong, so level headed as Matt volunteer himself for that kind of treatment and actually get off on it? As he saw the two bodies collapse together he buried his head in his hands, recalling the memories of the moments when Matt was cast aside and yet another lover would've chewed him up and spat him out. From the usual safety of his bedroom Jeff would generally give it around ten minutes before the screen door slammed as the latest man left and then two or three days of unreturned phone calls before the cycle of self-hate began again.

Jeff closed his eyes for a moment and twisted his position to sit with his back rested on the inside wall of the closet. He listened to the synchronised panting and slowly his body began to relax. It was finally over and the relief washed over him the same way the orgasmic high had hit the tangled lovers in he middle of the room. Letting his head tip to one side he watched as Matt curled himself around his lover, his fingers playing idly in the long sandy strands of hair.

Minutes that felt like hours passed by, the intensity in the heady silence lost on none of those present and felt most of all by the shocked and confused man who relished the solitude his location granted him. Wringing his hands together Jeff longed to be able to get up and leave the room and not be confronted with the calm after the storm, the precious comfort after the world of hurt Matt had endured. It was finally starting to make sense to Jeff that under the right tutelage all the things his elder brother so clearly craved could be his.

The difference was with this lover there was no slamming of the door on the way out minutes after the pain or pleasure ended. There had been no days on end of an unshowered, unfed and unhappy Matt stalking the house. This had been going on for several months and Jeff couldn't recall a period when he'd seen Matt look so at ease in his own skin and so passionate about everything in his life. It was like the missing piece of who he was had been slotted into the puzzle and although Jeff had fought against this latest in a long line of abusive unions at first, he soon came to realise that the abuse was consensual, was wanted, was needed.

"Yours and yours alone...."

"I'll never be sorry I took up with you, that I promise...."

"I'm not scared of you Hunter, I don't think there's anything you could ever do to make scared of you...."

"This cold swinging brick only warms up for a few, and be warned, one of that few is laid on top of me right now...."

"I want to feel your hands on me, in pleasure, in pain, in harsh and gentle; it doesn't matter as long as it's you...."

"I love that I can hurt you and comfort you and you'll want me just the same...."

The heartfelt words spoke of a tenderness that burned incandescently between them and as the utterances were exchanged between the starry eyed men Jeff no longer saw Master and slave. He no longer thought of them as abuser and victim or calculating manipulator and naïve, confused young man. The silent tears began to leak from his eyes and he threaded his hands into his short hair, tugging slightly and kicking himself for everything he'd put Matt through, every barbed jibe about how he chose to life his life. Jeff had known all along that he was far from perfect but it was only then that he realised that he'd done to Matt what everyone apart from Matt had always done to him – made assumptions.

Slowly the bodies shifted off the bed and Hunter took Matt by the hand and walked backwards, smiling as he led Matt gently from the room. Once Jeff heard the water start to power away in the bathroom he stood and stretched his aching legs before slipping out of the closet and walking towards the door. He turned back for a second to see the cuffs discarded forlornly on the comforter that itself was rumpled and piled up at the side of the bed. He felt a sudden desire to paint the scene but chased it from his brain immediately as he thought of how he'd never be able to explain to Matt where the inspiration for the image had come from.

Back in the relative safety of the hallway Jeff gripped the fistful of albums and headed towards his room, clicking his door open before something stopped him entering. He turned as he heard a near blood curdling scream coming from the direction of the bathroom. He dropped the discs to the floor and readied himself to barge into the room and stop whatever was going on in there. That was until he heard a loud cry of "That water was fucking cold, Matty!" Loud throaty mischievous sounding laughter drowned out the sharp noise of the breath Jeff forced out of his lungs, the panic subsiding quickly unlike the rate of his heartbeat.

Bending to retrieve everything he'd dropped on the floor Jeff thought to himself that trust didn't come as easy to him as he thought it should. He hoped that one day that would change. After putting the pile down on the dresser he flopped out on the bed and closed his eyes, idly humming the song that he wrote about Matt's struggle so long ago. Two lines stuck in his mind more than any; 'Today I fell asleep next to you, tomorrow I hope I do too."

A/N: So, I know a lot of people have probably noticed a bit more BDSM fandom stuff popping up on here and some may just not understand what its all about. Jeff muse decided to come and visit upon me and ask for some answers. ^^^ that's what he got ;)

Many thanks to Dark Kaneanite for her time, trouble and twittering, my H remains the moth to her Matt muse's enchanting flame.

Lyrics from Johnny Cash – Hurt and Peroxwhy?gen – In Tune.

All reads and reviews appreciated as always :)