Content: Mature subject matter, implied m/m slash, language, implied violence, angst.
Character/s: Jim Fullington (Sandman)/Scott Levy (Raven)
Summary: After suffering a bitter humiliation in the ring at the hands of the Sandman, Raven finds himself alone and contemplative after the match.
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Quotations from "The Happiest Day" by Edgar Allen Poe used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.
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Chapter Four
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I should tell him how I feel. That's the only way I'm ever going to be able to think straight again. I'll be as honest with him as I can possibly be. Of course, knowing me, I'll find some way to make a shambles of the whole conversation and he'll probably end up on the floor, laughing his ass off. But you know? I don't care. It would almost be worth risking the blow to my pride just to get all this off my chest once and for all. Of course, he could always choose to use that information against me, ridicule me in front of the other guys, make my work environment even more of a living hell than he's already made it. And I don't think I could tolerate that. There are few things I hold as dear to myself as my pride.
I think that's why his actions tonight got to me so badly. Carving his name on my body. Like he's trying to claim ownership of me. Advertising for all the world to see that I belong to him when nothing could be farther from the truth. I belong to no man. I am the master of my own destiny and no blue-eyed, know-it-all, loudmouthed asshole is going to have any effect whatsoever on how I choose to live my life or who I choose to spend my time with.
// The happiest day, the happiest hour,
My sear'd and blighted heart has known,
The brightest glance of pride and power
I feel hath flown \\
God, the sheer arrogance of the man... Just when I think he can't get any more insufferable, he goes and pulls something like this and surprises me anew. Right when I was starting to get almost comfortable working with him, getting used to his overbearing personality. When I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance we could actually engage in something approximating friendship.
And with one simple action, he's thrown me back into chaos. Two letters. J-F. James Fullington. The bane of my existence.
I shouldn't be this upset. I've certainly done worse things to myself before. But I have to ask myself in all honesty, is it the act itself that I'm so outraged at or is it the person who did it? You know, Levy, I think you've finally hit the nail on the head. If it had been anyone else, you would have laughed it off over a beer after the show. But instead you're still sitting here in the locker room, all alone, waiting for the very man who marked you for his own. Hoping he'll come see you. Deluding yourself into thinking you have some sort of power over him, some sort of appeal that you can use to your advantage.
// Of power, said I? Yes, such I ween
But it has vanish'd, long alas!
The visions of my youth have been
But let them pass. \\
But that's the thing. I never DID have any semblance of control over him. But God, how I wish I did. More than anything, I wish I had the ability to direct his thoughts and his actions. How I would love to be able to twist and contort his emotions and his body, as I bring him to such glorious levels of pain and pleasure... Okay, penis? You can stop with the input any time now. I can make enough of a fool of myself without any help from you.
So where was I? Oh yes. There's still the matter of telling that insufferable prick how I feel about him so he'll get out of my head. Yes. That's what needs to happen. And it better happen soon because I can't take much more of this. I refuse to allow myself to be driven crazy by a man who doesn't give a damn about how I feel...
Oh, great. I thought I'd turned my phone off. I know exactly who it is, too. The guys who don't really have families to go home to. Just looking for some extra company as they hit the bars. Normally I'd be up for it, but I'm really not in the mood to be sociable tonight. I'll just bow out politely and...
Unless it's... No way. How would he even get my number? Like hell, I'm going to answer it.
// And pride! what have I now with thee?
Another brow may e'en inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still my spirit. \\
"Yeah? Of course I know who this is. No, I haven't left the arena yet. There was that small matter of getting stitched up by the EMTs after the match, you know. Yeah, I'm okay. Really, I am."
Why the hell am I being so nice to him? Say it with me, Levy. He's an asshole. You hate his guts. Tell him to fuck off. Hang up the phone.
"No, really, I'm just fine. Nothing I haven't gone through before, you know."
Well, except for that whole 'monogram' business, but still...
"No, I don't really have plans for the holidays. Don't exactly have much in the way of family. Well, I'm pretty much a loner anyway, so it all works out. I never really needed to surround myself with a horde of people."
// The smile of love, soft friendship's charm
Bright hope itself has fled at last,
'T will ne'er again my bosom warm
'Tis ever past. \\
What the hell? I shouldn't 'deprive people of the privilege of getting to know the real me?' What on earth is that shit? He's serious. He's actually serious for once. Figures this would happen when he's God knows how many miles away by now.
"I just didn't expect to hear from you. I thought you'd headed off to do... whatever it is you do when you're not at work."
Get hammered and go home with some trashy bar girl, probably.
"No, man, I didn't mean to imply that you'd be that shallow. I just... I have no idea what it is you do when you're not at work. That's all. I didn't mean any disrespect."
Great, so now the bastard is reading my mind. Or trying to, at any rate. Good thing he doesn't know what's REALLY on my mind...
"What's that? You can't be serious, man. I mean, we don't hang out, we don't really socialize after the shows. Hell, we can barely tolerate each other IN the ring, let alone outside of work."
Tell him no. Tell him no. Tell him no.
"Well, if you've already gone to all the trouble... Yeah, I know the area. Just give me the address."
// The happiest day, the happiest hour,
Mine eyes shall see, have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel has been. \\
God, please strike me dead. I'm going to spend the holidays with the one man I hate more than anyone else on this planet. And the only man I've ever been completely, absolutely, hopelessly addicted to. Am I the only one who didn't see this coming a mile away?
He already owns me. I may as well stop fighting whatever this is and let it happen. Whatever IS going to happen, that is. I can't even speak of it out loud for fear of shaming myself even further, but it's always at the forefront of my brain. He absolutely terrifies me and yet thrills me beyond words. What's to be asked of me tonight? And will I have the strength to resist if need be?
Pride be damned.
Character/s: Jim Fullington (Sandman)/Scott Levy (Raven)
Summary: After suffering a bitter humiliation in the ring at the hands of the Sandman, Raven finds himself alone and contemplative after the match.
Disclaimer: I own NO ONE depicted in these fics. I am not endorsed by any person, corporation, federation, promotion, etc., nor do I receive any monies for writing sick and twisted tales of their imagined goings-on. Quotations from "The Happiest Day" by Edgar Allen Poe used without permission. No infringement or disrespect to the various artisans is intended, so please don't sue me.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Chapter Four
* * * * * * * * * * * *
I should tell him how I feel. That's the only way I'm ever going to be able to think straight again. I'll be as honest with him as I can possibly be. Of course, knowing me, I'll find some way to make a shambles of the whole conversation and he'll probably end up on the floor, laughing his ass off. But you know? I don't care. It would almost be worth risking the blow to my pride just to get all this off my chest once and for all. Of course, he could always choose to use that information against me, ridicule me in front of the other guys, make my work environment even more of a living hell than he's already made it. And I don't think I could tolerate that. There are few things I hold as dear to myself as my pride.
I think that's why his actions tonight got to me so badly. Carving his name on my body. Like he's trying to claim ownership of me. Advertising for all the world to see that I belong to him when nothing could be farther from the truth. I belong to no man. I am the master of my own destiny and no blue-eyed, know-it-all, loudmouthed asshole is going to have any effect whatsoever on how I choose to live my life or who I choose to spend my time with.
// The happiest day, the happiest hour,
My sear'd and blighted heart has known,
The brightest glance of pride and power
I feel hath flown \\
God, the sheer arrogance of the man... Just when I think he can't get any more insufferable, he goes and pulls something like this and surprises me anew. Right when I was starting to get almost comfortable working with him, getting used to his overbearing personality. When I was starting to think that maybe, just maybe, there might be a chance we could actually engage in something approximating friendship.
And with one simple action, he's thrown me back into chaos. Two letters. J-F. James Fullington. The bane of my existence.
I shouldn't be this upset. I've certainly done worse things to myself before. But I have to ask myself in all honesty, is it the act itself that I'm so outraged at or is it the person who did it? You know, Levy, I think you've finally hit the nail on the head. If it had been anyone else, you would have laughed it off over a beer after the show. But instead you're still sitting here in the locker room, all alone, waiting for the very man who marked you for his own. Hoping he'll come see you. Deluding yourself into thinking you have some sort of power over him, some sort of appeal that you can use to your advantage.
// Of power, said I? Yes, such I ween
But it has vanish'd, long alas!
The visions of my youth have been
But let them pass. \\
But that's the thing. I never DID have any semblance of control over him. But God, how I wish I did. More than anything, I wish I had the ability to direct his thoughts and his actions. How I would love to be able to twist and contort his emotions and his body, as I bring him to such glorious levels of pain and pleasure... Okay, penis? You can stop with the input any time now. I can make enough of a fool of myself without any help from you.
So where was I? Oh yes. There's still the matter of telling that insufferable prick how I feel about him so he'll get out of my head. Yes. That's what needs to happen. And it better happen soon because I can't take much more of this. I refuse to allow myself to be driven crazy by a man who doesn't give a damn about how I feel...
Oh, great. I thought I'd turned my phone off. I know exactly who it is, too. The guys who don't really have families to go home to. Just looking for some extra company as they hit the bars. Normally I'd be up for it, but I'm really not in the mood to be sociable tonight. I'll just bow out politely and...
Unless it's... No way. How would he even get my number? Like hell, I'm going to answer it.
// And pride! what have I now with thee?
Another brow may e'en inherit
The venom thou hast pour'd on me
Be still my spirit. \\
"Yeah? Of course I know who this is. No, I haven't left the arena yet. There was that small matter of getting stitched up by the EMTs after the match, you know. Yeah, I'm okay. Really, I am."
Why the hell am I being so nice to him? Say it with me, Levy. He's an asshole. You hate his guts. Tell him to fuck off. Hang up the phone.
"No, really, I'm just fine. Nothing I haven't gone through before, you know."
Well, except for that whole 'monogram' business, but still...
"No, I don't really have plans for the holidays. Don't exactly have much in the way of family. Well, I'm pretty much a loner anyway, so it all works out. I never really needed to surround myself with a horde of people."
// The smile of love, soft friendship's charm
Bright hope itself has fled at last,
'T will ne'er again my bosom warm
'Tis ever past. \\
What the hell? I shouldn't 'deprive people of the privilege of getting to know the real me?' What on earth is that shit? He's serious. He's actually serious for once. Figures this would happen when he's God knows how many miles away by now.
"I just didn't expect to hear from you. I thought you'd headed off to do... whatever it is you do when you're not at work."
Get hammered and go home with some trashy bar girl, probably.
"No, man, I didn't mean to imply that you'd be that shallow. I just... I have no idea what it is you do when you're not at work. That's all. I didn't mean any disrespect."
Great, so now the bastard is reading my mind. Or trying to, at any rate. Good thing he doesn't know what's REALLY on my mind...
"What's that? You can't be serious, man. I mean, we don't hang out, we don't really socialize after the shows. Hell, we can barely tolerate each other IN the ring, let alone outside of work."
Tell him no. Tell him no. Tell him no.
"Well, if you've already gone to all the trouble... Yeah, I know the area. Just give me the address."
// The happiest day, the happiest hour,
Mine eyes shall see, have ever seen,
The brightest glance of pride and power,
I feel has been. \\
God, please strike me dead. I'm going to spend the holidays with the one man I hate more than anyone else on this planet. And the only man I've ever been completely, absolutely, hopelessly addicted to. Am I the only one who didn't see this coming a mile away?
He already owns me. I may as well stop fighting whatever this is and let it happen. Whatever IS going to happen, that is. I can't even speak of it out loud for fear of shaming myself even further, but it's always at the forefront of my brain. He absolutely terrifies me and yet thrills me beyond words. What's to be asked of me tonight? And will I have the strength to resist if need be?
Pride be damned.