Author: pandora1017
Rating: R
Content: [minor] Sexual situations, [minor] slash
Characters:
Amy Dumas = Lita
Chris Irvine = Chris Jericho
Matt Hardy
Jeff Hardy
Trish Stratigias = Trish Stratus
Adam Copeland = Edge
.
With one last contented sigh, I rolled onto my side to lay my head on the chest of tall, dark, and handsome himself, Matt Hardy. Matt, likewise contented, dropped an arm around me and pulled me to him, kissing the top of my head. I wiped away red strands of hair plastered to my face by sweat and kissed the strong pectoral muscles that I once again rested my face against.
"Y'feel better now?" Matt asked, absently running his fingers up and down my arm as my heart finally started beating at a normal rate.
"You always did know how to make me forget a headache..."
"Y'sure y'don't want t'talk about it?"
I sighed and draped my other arm across Matt's stomach, the memories of pounding on the door of Matt's hotel room in a rush of confusion and frustration coming back to me. But they weren't as pressing anymore. "I'm sure, Matt. Thanks."
"Is it Chris?"
How did he always know that? I guess it wasn't hard to figure out anymore. I sighed, unresponsive.
"Why don't y'jus' tell him how ya feel?"
"I can't just do that, Matt."
"Why not?"
"Because he... he..."
"Don't tell me you're afraid of him," Matt chuckled. "Ah know you, y'not afraid of anythin'."
I smiled softly, absently teasing Matt's stomach with my fingertips. "No, I'm not afraid of him. He's just... such a..."
Callous shithead? Thick bastard? Asshole? Yeah, that's the main one. Of course, they're all true.
"Ah know y'like him."
"I know. I know it, too. But I shouldn't."
"Why not?"
"He's just... well, not nice."
"Well, yeah, he comes off a li'l harsh, but Ah'm sure that he's a great guy underneath all that."
I remained silent. I had, for some stupid reason, managed to crush hard on Chris Irvine. I adamantly use the word 'crush,' because I've realized over time that there is no such thing as love. And if I had love for anyone, it certainly would not be that bastard Chris. He was, for lack of a better word, an asshole. He would flirt with me, then ask what Trish was doing tonight. He was hot and cold, leading me on one minute then completely ignoring me the next. He was fucking with my head, and I think he was doing it on purpose. And for another stupid reason, I couldn't help but see past all that to the moments when he dropped his guard and I talked to Chris the person, not Chris the gimmick. He could be so deep and so real when he wanted to be, but he usually chose to make shallow cracks and avoid anything that showed him in a positive light. I knew there was a genuine, kind personality somewhere back there that matched his gorgeous, blonde haired, blue eyed, five foot ten inches of hot Canadian man, but I'd be damned if I could figure out why he tried so hard to hide it.
"Ah know y'thinkin' 'bout him, Ames."
I blinked, not realizing we'd been laying in silence. "Wha... what?"
"Y'grindin' y'teeth," Matt laughed slightly. "A dead give-away."
I smiled inspite of myself. "He just frustrates me!"
"Ah've seen him talkin' t'ya. He flirts with ya. Jus' take him up on it next time."
"When did you see us talking? This afternoon before the show?"
"Uh... yeah."
"Ha," I snorted, rolling my eyes. "You know how we finished that conversation? He asked me if I knew what Trish was doing tonight."
"He... what?"
"You heard me," I sighed, lowering my voice slightly with resignation.
"But... but Ah saw him, he was practically droolin' on ya."
"Yeah, I know," I sighed.
"Ah'm sorry, Ames."
"Don't worry about it," I tried to laugh it off as I pushed myself off of Matt. "He's not worth it."
Matt sat up with me and watched me run my hands through my hair, gather my clothes, and get dressed. "Amy..."
I stopped, half dressed, and turned to Matt as I buttoned my pants. "Hmm?"
"Ah jus' want t'make sure you're all right."
Smiling, I crawled over the bed and straddled Matt once again, kissing him softly. "You're too good to be true, Matt. But don't worry, I can handle myself."
Matt took my waist in his hands and held onto me, unwilling to let me go until he got a satisfactory answer to his query. I couldn't help but smile as I looked into his eyes. Matt just felt so comfortable, everything between us clicked. Just, somehow, not in a relationship. We tried a relationship once and it was terribly awkward and constraining. After a short while, we realized that it just wasn't working, so he broke it off. We went for plan B. To save any euphemism, Matt and I were fuck buddies. All the closeness we wanted, none of the complications of a real relationship. It was perfect, and what we both wanted and needed right now. A smile played on his lips as his eyes scanned mine. "Y'sure you're fine?"
"I'm sure," I promised. "Just as long as I'm not thinking about Chris."
"Amy," Matt chided, ignoring my weak attempt at a reassuring smile. He sighed, and met my eyes again. "Jus' don't drive y'self crazy over this, all right? It's not that important."
"Right," I shrugged, pulling myself from his hands and looking around for my shirt. "It's not like I'm in love or something."
"Aw, Ames, don't get started on that again..." Matt groaned, putting his hands to his head and falling back onto his pillow. I smirked to myself, finding my shirt and sliding it over my head. Matt and I had discussed this on numerous occasions. He was a hopeless romantic and someday expected the right man or woman to fall into his arms. My jaded opinions of love bothered him, although he'd long ago quit trying to change my mind. Finally slipping on my shoes, I picked up my key that I'd left on Matt's dresser, and looked back at him with a sigh. He had rolled onto his side and was watching me with a lazy smile.
"So how's the Adam front looking?" I asked, sitting on the bed next to him.
"Not good," he sighed. "Ah think we're finally done f'good."
"I'm sorry," I frowned slightly.
"Ah'm not. Better sooner than later. Ah had a feelin' this one wasn't gonna work, either."
"What makes you say that?"
"Th'fact that he never forgave me for f'gettin' his birthday th'last time."
"That'll do it," I frowned.
"Eh, it's all right. He's not th'one. Ah'm still waiting."
I smiled at him and shook my head, setting a hand on his side. "Well, I'd better be going. Trish is going to get suspicious if I don't show up soon."
"Y'still haven't told her 'bout us?"
"I don't think she'd understand our relationship," I explained with a smile.
"Ah jus' think she'd be jealous."
"Jealous of what? Your brother's probably up there," I joked.
Matt's jaw dropped and he pushed himself up. "Are you sayin' Jeff an' Ah even compare? You are gettin' a way better deal in this one."
I grinned and Matt took me into his arms for a hug. "Ok, darlin'. Come back anytime. Ah'm here for ya."
"Thanks, Matt," I smiled again, and finally headed for the door. For some reason, I always hesitated at Matt's door. I took a deep breath, then turned the knob and stepped into the hall - almost running into someone who had been passing by. I looked up quickly to apologize, but froze when I saw who it was.
"Well, well, well," Chris smirked, looking from me to the door. "Room 261? I could have swore you told me earlier you were staying in room 251."
"I am," I replied, slightly haughtily. "It doesn't mean I'm confined there."
"And room 261?" he continued, ignoring my comment. "If I remember correctly... isn't that where the Hardys are staying?"
"Congratulations, Sherlock. Figure that one out yourself or did you have to sweet talk it out of Trish?"
He smirked condescendingly at me, and I wrinkled my brow at him, confused. He was normally at least social to me. What was his issue all of a sudden? What was that I had called him? Asshole? He was certainly living up to it now. "Now what would you be doing in Matt's hotel room?"
"I don't know," I shot back, the sarcasm in my voice matching his, "maybe trying to get away from Jeff and Trish in my room?"
So what if I was lying, it was effective. His smirk dropped suddenly at my mention of Trish, and he looked me up and down, disgustedly. "I've heard about you and Matt. If anything, Jeff's at in Trish's room so she can paint his nails and dish about you two."
"What do you mean, you've 'heard about me and Matt?'"
"Well, I guess you haven't done anything wrong. I mean, just because the relationship didn't work doesn't mean you have to stop fucking, does it?"
My jaw dropped for a split second, then I regained my composure and glared at him, my hands forming fists at my side. I spoke through clenched teeth. "Why do you care? Jealous?"
"Hardly," he dismissed. "But I do have a question. When you're going down on him, do you ever stop and think, 'Hey, this has been in some guy's ass?'"
I was seeing red, and without even thinking, I took a swing. As soon as it connected, I realized what I was doing and gasped. I had knocked Chris down. I took a step back, putting my hand over my mouth. He shook his head slightly when he sat up, and moved his jaw carefully, testing it. He finally looked up at me with a cross between confusion and anger, and I instictively started backing up. Taking a couple more steps, I realized that Chris wasn't going to get up anytime soon, so I turned and walked determinedly to my room. Prick.