The feel of the damp earth against his shoed feet and the sound of the wet 'thuds' rang in Matt's ears and helped ease some of the tension. It wasn't going to erase it all, but it was enough so that he could at least be in the same room with Chris for more than three or four minutes. The night before found them wrapped tighter than butterfly cocoons in bed; their hands immobile to do what they really wanted, hold each other and just sigh contentedly against skin and run playful fingers over quivering and jumping muscles and flesh. Night and its suffocating darkness hadn't been kind, while Chris snored and whimpered alternately in his sleep Matt stared at the ceiling and condemned himself, his stubborn streak, Chris, and any other thing that floated through his mind. He had flipped over at one point and watched Chris as the blond slept; his mind screaming when Chris too rolled over and tried to nuzzle into Matt's chest. The marks he had left tugged at Matt's conscious and while his husband slept he kissed each one and whispered sorry; his warm tears falling and wetting Chris' slumbering face. The moment of weakness had Matt growling and he slipped from the bed; angry that he was letting himself get worked up over something that Chris had enjoyed—maybe a little too much. With a snarl he grabbed a pair of track pants from his drawer and snatched one of his zip up hoodies; hastily pulling it on and zipping it up halfway, leaving a wide V of olive tan skin bared.
The inky darkness that had swallowed his movements and made him one of the shadows began to slip into royal purples and then indigo and pale blues. One by one the stars winked out; turning the sky back over to its blazing over-lord. His muffled footfalls gradually slowed until they were nothing more than a steady 'plod-plod' on the dewy grass and fallen leaves. His face shone with a sheen of sweat and he prayed that when he got back to the house that Chris was still in bed; the run might have eased his guilt at marking up his husband like a drunken red-neck on COPS, but it certainly didn't give his mind any rest from the erotic imaginings and thoughts that barreled through it nearly every second of every day. Lucas barely even raised his head as Matt tried to silently make his way through the kitchen; his wet sneakers squeaking against the tile flooring and making Matt wince. At the island he bent over and took them off, chucking them in the vicinity of the living room before padding into Chris' study. The paper ball mess was still scattered about the floor and with an eye roll Matt started to clean up—after all if you wanted something done right you have to do it yourself. With a grin he thought about the many times he had come into his and Jeff's hotel rooms and seen his brother sitting crossed legged amongst mountains of loose leaf paper; each filled with colorful sketches and nonsense lines. Creativity isn't for the organized or the neat-freaks of the world.
After putting the room back to rights; sitting Chris' guitar on the stand and placing a new notepad on the stool, Matt climbed the stairs, peeling off his hoody as he went. The room was still dark and Matt sighed in relief when he seen Chris lying in the middle of the bed; his head thrashing from side to side as a breathy moan ghosted from his lips. The need to go over and climb into bed and latch onto the thundering pulse as his hands wandered over hot and sticky skin; making those moans into primal screams before sinking home and driving into his husband again and again was nearly over whelming and it took every shred of Matt's touted self control to reign the impulse. He closed his eyes and counted down from fifty before moving quietly over to his dresser and grabbed the first things he ran across. He cast a look back at the bed before heading down the hall to the guest bathroom. The feel of the warm water sluicing over Matt's skin made him think again of the sudsy froth that had whispered and kissed his husbands bronzed skin; leaving glistening trails over muscles and turning the white of his boxers transparent, allowing Matt—and the others—a nearly unobstructed view of that magnificent piece of hardened flesh that was supposedly his for the taking whenever and where ever he wanted.
Before the shower could turn into some Matt Hardy on Matt Hardy loving, he quickly washed and rinsed his hair then climbed from the tub; toweling himself harder than necessary and snarling at his lack of self control as he burst in a shower of sticky seed and panted growls into the square of terry cloth. It was getting ridiculous and the longer it went on the angrier he was getting with himself. The phone ringing caught his attention and he slipped his jeans on before hurrying down the stairs and grabbed the living room extension, leaving the rough denim unzipped and unbuttoned as he held the receiver to his ear.
"Hello?"
"Hey, um Matty…" Jeff's voice had a nervous twitch to it and Matt frowned as he moved into the kitchen to grab a diet coke.
"Who else would it be?"
Jeff gave a weak laugh and Matt could just picture his brother running his hand up and down the column of his neck as he shifted from foot to foot.
"Uhh—Matt what I called for was…"
Jeff's voice trailed off and Matt bit back the urge snap at him, it wasn't his fault that Matt was dancing on the edge of a sharpened blade of sarcasm and churning testosterone that made his teenage years look like a cake walk. Matt leaned back against one of the counters and held the phone between his ear and shoulder as he plucked at the tab on his pop; scowling at the tiny metallic ring when it escaped him twice.
"Spit it out already Jeffrey."
"I don't think that you and Chris should come to Sunday dinner this week—or any week until you call off this stupid game."
Matt opened his mouth to say something but shut his mouth as he seen where his brother was coming from. It seemed like Chris was trying to play on Matt's kink of public PDA; using that to get him to break down and beg. But it was different when it was in front of his friends and then in front of his family. Sure Jeff had unfortunately seen more than he probably ever wanted to, but Matt was sure that his father didn't want to watch on in horror if Chris decided to reenact his strip tease, this time using the gravy for the potatoes instead of beer. That stray thought of Chris on his knees as gravy slithered down his chest and face made Matt laugh; his diet coke spraying from between his lips, the fine spray dampening his chest while the majority of it rained down on the floor. It did kind of hurt that he was being cut from the family meal, but he couldn't deny that it might be for the best.
"Sure 'Fro." Matt nodded even though he knew that Jeff couldn't see him. "I do want to apologize for last night; I didn't know that Chris would get that out of hand. I shoulda put an end to it before it got that far…the game—erm the card game I mean."
The line was quiet and Matt had the feeling that Jeff's face was burning red at the reminder. He had wanted to prod Jeff about what had happened with Shane and Shannon, but felt that it might be in both their best interests if he just dropped the subject; after all things were weird enough between them as it was.
"You owe me a chair and a table." Jeff finally replied, a laugh hidden in voice. "There's no way I'm going to use those things again; I had to have Shane take it all out back and toss 'em in the fire pit."
"Fro, those were metal…"
"And? Just means a long night of dancing around the flames."
They both laughed and Matt felt some of his tension leave his body; a genuine smile gracing his face for the first time since he and Chris had started their nonsense. They talked for a little while longer before hanging up; Matt sighing and smiling as he placed the phone back on the dock in the living room. When he turned around he found himself face to face with his scowling husband; Chris' eyes darting accusingly from the phone to Matt's full, curving lips.
"Who was that?" He barked; his voice still rough from sleep.
"Jeff."
"Liar." Chris hissed as his hands connected with Matt's chest and sent him toppling over the arm of the couch. "It was Shane wasn't it?" Chris followed him down, straddling Matt's hips and digging his fingers into Matt's shoulders. "I seen the way you two were whispering to each other last night." He hissed.
"Jesus Chris." Matt shook his head; his mind discombobulated from the sudden switch in his position. "What in the hell?"
"You and Helms." Chris jabbed a finger into Matt's chest; his eyes snapping icy flames. "Don't deny it. You're hair is wet, and you've been gone for a while. Plus you didn't take a shower in our bathroom. Didja hide the clothes that smell like him? Hmmm, or did you do a load of laundry to hide the evidence?"
Matt shoved Chris back and tried to scramble off the couch but Chris grabbed his waist and they tumbled to the floor; Matt once more finding himself pinned under his husband. Chris' eyes were narrowed and his face twisted into a scowl that no doubt should have been used in the ring, but the minute quivering of Chris' abused bottom lip told Matt that there were tears getting ready to fall. Matt took a deep breath and cupped Chris' face; gently running the pad of his thumb over the darkening bruises on his cheek.
"Chris, I would never, NEVER go behind your back. I might be hardheaded, heavy handed, stubborn and host of other things; but the one thing I am not is a cheater. I was talking to Jeff. He—uh—thought it might be best if we didn't show up for the family dinners on Sunday until we put an end to this." Matt blushed, the image of Chris on the poker table swelling and taking over his mind.
"You're still lying to me. You're too relaxed…" Chris started; the quivering lip getting more noticeable.
Matt rolled them over so that Chris was pinned to the floor; the quivering of his lip now joined by sparkling drops forming in his eyes.
"Christopher Keith Irvine-Hardy. I swear to you that I haven't messed around with Shane Helms. I prefer blonds anyways." Matt's lips kicked up in a sorta smile but it slipped off minutes later when Chris' eyes went wide; more tears glittering in the cerulean depths. "What?"
"It was Shannon then, he has blond hair…"
Matt sighed and pushed himself away from his husband; getting back to his feet and walking back into the kitchen before he started to yell and scream.
"It is Shannon isn't it? You've been going over and meeting him at Jeff's when you leave."
Chris' accusing voice sounded behind him and Matt whirled around; his eyes hard as he bit hard on the inside of his cheek to keep his tongue in check.
"Since it's not getting through your head, I like my bed partners to be blond AND Canadian. And I really should turn you over my knee for even thinking that I'd do that. I mean come on Chris, Shannon? Please, he's Helm's little bitch boy. And he has a little too much ink for me." Matt snorted.
"Did you really just threaten to spank me?" Chris asked; his eyes narrowing even more as he watched Matt stalk around the kitchen.
"Yes, yes I did."
"You don't have the balls country boy."
Matt quirked his eyebrow and watched as Chris' face went from nearly sobbing to mischievously smirking; the unshed tears catching the light and making the blue depths shimmer. Chris moved closer, exaggerating his rolling hip walk; knowing that it always made Matt twitch. Matt backed up until he bumped into the island; his eyes glued to Chris as he licked his lips and turned around, wiggling his hips at Matt.
"Do it then Matt; give me that spanking that you think I need." Chris' voice had gone low and husky; the growling sound settling in the pit of Matt's stomach and immediately making him hard.
For a moment he just stared as Chris continued to wiggle his ass; the rounded globes stretching the flannel material of Chris' lounge pants when he bent over and touched his toes. Chris looked over his shoulder and snorted before straightening back up and turning around.
"I knew it. I knew you didn't have the balls." He drawled as he leaned up against the counter; twirling a strand of Matt's hair around his finger. "So tell me Matty," The gentle twirling became a tug; making Matt wince. "Is it Shannon? Or maybe it was your little brother. Yea I remember when he used to be blond. Are you being a typical southerner; dipping your candle in your baby brother's wax?"
The taunting lilt of Chris' voice pushed Matt over the edge and he growled as he grabbed both of Chris' wrists in his hand and forced him around; pinning the wrists to the counter top and kicking Chris' legs back a little so that he bent over. Chris let out a squawk and struggled; stopping only when Matt' brought his hand down hard on the fleshy part of his right cheek. The sound of the hit rang through the kitchen like the sound of a baseball bat being swung into a pillow. Matt rubbed the area; releasing Chris' wrists and immediately walking from the kitchen and heading to his study before things got too out of control. He had just sat down at his computer when the door flew back over and Chris stormed inside; his hand striking Matt's cheek and leaving a large red mark in its wake. The force of the blow snapped Matt's head to the side and when he turned his face back; Chris as standing there daring Matt with his eyes.
"Figured I'd show you how to do it properly since you obviously don't know how." Chris spat as Matt stared at him with smoldering eyes.
"Well the way I see it, seems you need to go back to school if you thought that was my ass. What the hell do they teach you up there in the frozen north? How to skin polar bears and walk on snow shoes?" Matt shot back.
"Beats learning how to bang your family, oh wait, you're proficient in that. I bet you were teaching the class, weren'tcha Matthew."
Matt shrugged his shoulders and let the insult roll off his back; it wasn't the first time he'd heard it, in fact Amy was rather fond of shouting that at him towards the end of their relationship.
"What can I say, when you're good, you're good."
"I wouldn't go that far." Chris snorted.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me, there's no way you didn't with those huge satellite dishes on the side of your head."
"You've never complained."
"Well I guess sometimes you just have to settle for less."
That barb hit and Matt clamped his mouth shut, telling himself that Chris didn't mean it, that it was just something said to stir his ire and make him lash out—it worked. Matt grabbed Chris and hauled him over his knees; pressing an arm across Chris' shoulder blades to hold him still as he teasingly ran his hand over the well rounded humps of Chris' ass. Chris tried to get free and with a hard swing, Matt's hand connected; making Chris jump and yelp. Matt's palm tingled and he shook his hand before drawing back and landing another just a few inches away from the previous landing site. Matt rubbed light circles over the abused area; feeling the heat from the stings through the material that shielded Chris' rear from him. Chris had gone quiet and still, his shallow breaths the only thing marking that he was living. Matt continued to massage; trailing his fingers over the trembling globes and palming them gently before landing a smack to the other side. That hit, not as hard as the others, brought a choked sound from Chris and Matt couldn't help but grin. Matt landed two more hits; his hand running over the heated fabric and down Chris' thighs, sighing when Chris pushed back against his hand. It wasn't turning out the way he had planned but the soft mewling sounds from Chris more than made up for it. Matt's questing fingers dipped between Chris' legs and ran teasing light over the strained plaid design; making Chris shiver and whimper.
Each breathy sigh and moan worked its way down Matt's spine; making him dance and writhe under Chris; his erection prodding Chris' chest and sending lightening sizzling along his nerve endings at each hard prod. Matt ran his hand back up over the gorgeously rounded backside and teased the elastic band of the lounge pants, snapping them against Chris' waist a couple of times before sneaking in and massaging the warmed skin. He slid his hand down and gently palming Chris' balls; rolling them slowly before moving up and passing his fingernails lightly over the underneath of the base of his hard on. The intimate touches reminded Matt about what he missed the most; it wasn't the sex, that was just part of the package. It was being able to touch and feel lovingly, to share quiet moments that didn't have to end up with them trying to fuck each other's brains out. Pain bloomed in his calf and he yelped; jumping up and dumping Chris from his lap as he tried to figure out what had happened. Matt turned around and rolled up his pant leg; exposing a circular pattern that could have only come from one place. Before he could whirl back around and demand as to why Chris had bit him, a heavy handed slap across the ass made him jump again. When he turned he seen Chris smirking at him, his eyes traveling over his body slowly and landing on the tent in his jeans that was just barely covered; each twitch of the hard organ making the loose fly jump and quiver.
"Guess there some things Southerners just can't understand." Chris drawled as he moved closer, his hand clenching on either side of the open denim and pulling Matt close to him. "One being how to put on clothes properly, and two, not knowing when to quit." Chris continued to play with the button, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin under Matt's belly button and making his muscles clench.
Matt reached down and took Chris' wrists back in his hand, squeezing just enough to make Chris wince before letting them fall, his espresso eyes roiling with a wealth of feelings although none stayed long enough to give Chris any insight into what Matt was thinking. Matt leaned in; cupping the back of Chris' head and pulling him forwards until their lips were almost touching. Matt watched as Chris closed his eyes and wet his lips; obviously thinking that Matt was going to kiss him. Instead Matt turned his head and whispered into Chris' ear; his voice as low and gravelly as he could get it.
"Ah suggest the next time you settle for something, make sure you pick something close to what you actually wanted."
Matt then stepped back and walked around Chris, leaving him standing in the middle of the room with his mouth working wordlessly. At the door he turned around and flicked his gaze up and down his husband's form before speaking.
"I'm going over to Jeff's for a while. I'll be back sometime later." He turned back around but call over his shoulder before he got too out of range. "Oh, I went for a jog today, not everyone can pull off a muffin top like you can."
It was a weak dig, but Matt had to get out of the house before he exploded, emotionally and physically; the thought of Chris 'settling' for him making his chest hurt and his eyes sting.