Title: After Montreal
Rated: M (Mature)
Genre(s): Romance/Drama
Pair(s): Bret/Shawn, Mark/Hunter, etc.
Summary: That match may have cost him more than his reputation in Montreal. The entire roster is thrilled that Shawn is the new champion… but Shawn could care less. Because, out there, in front of millions of fans, he broke a man. He lost his boyfriend. And he's not sure that he could ever win him back. Until he receives news that could alter both of their lives forever…
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, besides my OCs.
Warning: Slash, Mpreg
Part: 21/? - Here Comes The Pain
Mark prided himself with how calmly he reacted to the situation at hand. He didn't yell. He didn't scream. He didn't curse. And the idea to react violently did not cross his mind once. He took a slow, almost hesitant breath. And then, he turned around and walked out of the room. The soft 'click' of the door was all that could be heard in the silence, save for the occasional moan as they went on with their... relations. It was only after the door closed and he was a safe distance away that he allowed an ounce of emotion to show on his face. Green eyes filled with tears, but none fell.
Slowly, he wandered back into the hotel room that he shared with his lover (or, should he say ex-lover). He entered inside and slammed the door closed behind him, venting all of his frustration in that seemingly insignificant action. Walking around the room, he started to gather all of Hunter's belongings. Clothes, shoes, traveling essentials, and other small items filled his arms, and were then transferred into Hunter's old leather suitcase. And then, with a blank mask on his face, he walked over to the kitchen area and tossed the suitcase down the trash chute.
Obviously, none of the vows that they had made to each other mattered anymore. Sure, they had never been married, nor did the ever talk about the idea of a future marriage. However, they had entered into an exclusive relationship and had a kid together. Mark may have been a little old-fashioned, but he thought that that meant something. He had actually believed that Hunter loved him and their daughter. But, in that simple action, he had showed how much they meant to him. The only one that mattered to Hunter was Hunter.
The large ravenette fell back against the pillows and closed his eyes. If he could've, he would've blocked out the entire world. Nothing mattered to him in that moment, not anymore. It was like someone had taken his universe and crushed it, and that was more emotion than Mark was comfortable expressing in a lifetime. Squeezing his eyes closed tighter, he tried (and failed) to quell the first few tears that managed to break down the barrier. But then, the shell around his heart hardened and nothing else escaped.
He didn't know how long he had been there, but by the time he managed to pull himself from his reverie, the sun had risen. A good twelve hours must have passed and he had been totally oblivious. There was a loud pounding on the door, followed by a suspicious rumbling that sounded an awful lot like his baby brother. And then he remembered that he had made plans to go to the shooting range with Glenn that morning (Glenn's awkward fascination with guns was a very, very long story). Quickly, he rose up off of the bed and rushed over to answer the door.
"Where the hell where you, dickhead?" Glenn sneered, automatically inviting himself inside. Not that Mark minded all that much. "I waited for two damn hours. I would've just continued on without you, but, you know, being the wonderful brother that I am, I had to make sure you were still alive."
Mark rolled his eyes, before he walked over and took a bottle of water out of the mini icebox. "You want one?" Glenn shook his head. "Suit youself."
Glenn's misty blue eyes widened considerably. "Have you been... crying?"
"No." Mark sniffed defiantly. "Why?"
"Oh, I don't know..." Glenn motioned to his face. "Maybe it's the fact that your fucking eyes are the size of softballs and redder than tomatoes, or the fact that you can't take a breath to save your fucking life!"
Mark slammed some food out onto the small, shoddy table. Glenn was always hungry, so it was a worthwhile bet that the food would shut him up for a little while. "I haven't been crying, asshole. Case closed. End of discussion."
It was Glenn's turn to roll his eyes. "Whatever."
Glenn took the meal that had arrived from room service last night and started to pick at it lazily. When he started to remove the vegetables, a small smirk came over Mark's face. He could remember when Glenn was a baby and he would throw all of the food that he didn't want under the table so that the dog would eat it. Watching Glenn doing something so familiar brought a sense of serenity that he felt like he had been missing for an eternity. And he found himself handing the Big Red Machine even more food, if only to feed into the serenity.
But, of course, the flawlessness of that moment couldn't last. "So, where's Blondie? Didn't the doc order him to be on bedrest or something like that? Not like he'd ever listen to the doc's orders, but still..."
"I don't really know where he is." Mark answered nonchallantly.
A certain uneasiness came over them. "What do you mean you don't know where he is?"
"Last time I saw him, he was screwing Stephanie McMahon. After that, I could care less if the little slimeball has to live under a rock. He's not coming back to my bed." Mark said, before he took a swig of his water.
"I could kill him..." Glenn muttered darkly. Mark knew he was serious, but he also knew that he wouldn't actually follow through on the threat.
"Hey, now. I'm the big brother. If anyone is gonna kill anyone, it's gonna be me." Mark said sarcastically, if only to break the sour mood that had befallen them. "Now, do you want to head to the shooting range or what?"
"The following is a Divas match set for one fall! Introducing first, the challenger, Stephanie McMahon-Helmsley!" The Billion Dollar Princess made her way down to the ring to a chorus of boos. "And her opponent, the current Divas Champion, Lilly Calaway!"
Hunter stood in the sky box, the entire arena empty save for his seat. The color drained out of his face when he heard the announcer introduce Stephanie. When had he married her? Wasn't he still in a relationship with Mark? And then, Lilly shot him a cold look as she handed her belt over to the ref. The bell rang and the match started. Stephanie wanted to make quick work of Lilly, but it wouldn't be that easy. The taller woman spun her around and took hold of her brown curls, before dropping her bulldog style. It earned a two count before Stephanie kicked out.
With every move that she landed on Stephanie, Lilly's eyes were locked with Hunter's. He could see every emotion swirl around in those perfect emerald depths that reminded him so much of Mark. But she had gotten her blond curls from him. Quickly, Stephanie went to roll her up when she was momentarily distracted. Lilly kicked out at one. So, Stephanie countered with a kick to the side of the head. Lilly went reeling, before she ducked under Stephanie's arm and dropped her so that she lay flat on the canvas. Setting her knee in the middle of Stephanie's back, she hooked one arm under her chin and the other around her leg and pulled. Stephanie tapped within seconds.
"The winner of this match, by submission, Lilly Calaway!" Lilly raised the title in the air, before she shot Hunter one last glare which seemed to tear through him. And then, it all vanished.
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