Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera.
I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.
A/N: First, no, Punk will not suddenly become gay. But if he did, he'd own Adam and Chris' asses in a flat second and this would become a Punk/Matt fic. It's not. Second... Chris is not trying to one up Adam. That's just what Punk thinks. It might be a little stalker-like, what Chris is doing, but it comes from a place of love. Third... enjoy the next installment!
Thanks for the reviews, Esha Napoleon, baybie, wrestlefan4, Dark Kaneanite, Glamagirl, Redsandman99, Inkblots, NeroAnne, and Dehlia666. You guys make it worth it.
Well, here's part eight.
Matt would give anything for the feeling of Chris holding him, the feeling of Chris' breath on his neck, the impact of his words to leave. Despite what Punk said, Matt was sure Chris would keep pursuing him, even if Adam was out of the picture. But the last thing he needed was to be pulled apart like a rag doll two girls are pulling around. And just ignoring his problem and hanging out with Punk, Rey, Kofi, and Jeff was enough to put him at ease.
Chris, meanwhile, was wondering if he was going too far. If Matt just needed to be left alone and the chips would fall where they may. Sure, Adam was a fucking asshole, and he deserved to be put in his place, but Matt came first. Matt always came first, and Chris told himself to remember that.
Deep down, Matt was afraid that Punk was wrong... Chris always on his mind wasn't out of guilt, but something else. Most of the 'facts' Chris told him were, in some ways, true. God, what did he get himself into?
Matt threw himself into work, remembering that he had won number one contendership at Night of Champions. As it loomed nearer, Matt just spent all his time working out with Punk, talking to Adam over the phone, and chilling with his friends. Adam made it perfectly clear that he missed spending time with Matt over the phone, or on the dates they went on, but Matt refused to spend the night with him.
"Mattie?" Matt smiled. Adam just called him as he, Punk, Mark, Jeff, Kofi, and Oscar drove to the arena.
"Hey Addy. What're you doing?"
"Getting ready for the triple threat number one contender's match tonight. I'm already at the ring, but I wish you were here too."
"I wish I was there also," Matt said.
"You on your way?"
"Yup. I've got a tag team match, remember?"
"Right. You and that Ziggler reject against Rey and Kofi." Adam laughed. "I'm sorry you have to lose."
"Hey! Who says I'll lose?" Matt said.
"I do!" Kofi called from the back of the car, lifting his US champion belt, "You're going to have to pry this out of my cold, lifeless fingers."
"I'll remember that when I kill you," Matt shot back. Adam laughed at the whole spectacle, trying to respect Matt's wish for space. But he missed his little Hardy boy way too much. He'd do anything just to have Matt by his side at that moment, to hold him and kiss him, but he decided to play by Matt's rules. Anything to shut up Irvine and stupid Brooks about him.
"Mattie, please hurry," Adam said, "I miss you."
"I miss you too."
"Hey!" Punk shouted, "Do the lovey shit when we get to the arena! I'm not afraid to crash this car into a fucking ditch!"
"Punk doesn't like the lovey-dovey stuff?" Jeff asked. He jumped into Mark's arms. "Kiss me so we can go to our happily ever after, my love."
Mark laughed. "Anything for you, my heart's true duet."
They started kissing, and Matt and Punk both made gagging noises. Oscar shook his head, and Kofi said, "Big man, you have to leave some fight in little Jeffy for his match."
Punk heard that and said, "You know, as a matter of fact, keep kissing him. I'd rather have one of my possible opponents tired out."
Jeff flipped Punk the bird while still kissing the Deadman. Oscar pulled out his camera phone and quickly took a picture of it, making them all laugh. "Send me that," Mark muttered as his lips rested on Jeff's.
Matt laughed, not knowing just how much his life was about to complicate.
*
Punk and Matt watched the number one contender's match backstage. Punk wanted to go up to the commentary table, but he decided not to. Even though Chris and Adam were both in the ring, he had this funny feeling that things were going to get ugly, not only for Matt but for him too.
Everyone gasped when it happened. Punk's jaw dropped and Matt's hand went to his mouth. Edge got a chair, fully intending on hitting Jeff, but Jeff, groggy from the match, fell- and the chair connected with Chris' forehead. Blood poured everywhere, and the ref immediately called for the bell, since Chris wasn't fit to continue.
Chris looked at him. "No! I can fight! I can-" He stumbled to the floor, his blood painting the ring red. Jeff and Edge looked at each other in shock, but they tried to keep up appearances, since they did have jobs to keep.
Teddy Long's music played and he came out. "Edge, that was a despicable act. But, seeing as Chris Jericho will not be in any shape to go to Night of Champions-"
"No!" Chris screamed out, holding his head, "No! That's not fair!"
"-I will have to award Jeff Hardy number one contendership at Night of Champions!" Jeff's music played, but no one was in the mood to celebrate. Chris' face was covered with a mask of his blood, and everyone was worried about him.
*
Chris was pulled into the medical room, despite his protests. "I'm fine!" he screamed, although his skin paled due to blood loss. But he was walked over anyway, and they had to give him a few stitches.
Matt and Punk heard Chris' loud yells, and Matt opened the door. Chris sat there, trying to get the doctor with the needle away from him. "Chris!" Chris looked up and saw Matt. "Let him give you the stitches." Matt walked over and said, "You need them."
"I'm fine," Chris said.
Punk made a sound. "The valley in your head says otherwise, crippie."
"I can handle a little bruise, assclown," Chris sneered, too upset over losing number one contendership to realize he was being unnecessarily rude to both of them.
"No need to be a jackass," Matt said, "Punk and I are worried about you."
Chris smiled like a baby. "You're worried about me, Mattie? About me and not your boyfriend? He might be getting a fine right now, you know."
"Yeah, well, Adam isn't the one with a crater in his head, so he can wait." Matt squeezed his leg. "Come on, Irvine, stop being such a stubborn jackmule and let them stitch you up."
Chris nodded. "If you say so. Will you... stay with me? I don't like needles..."
Punk laughed. "Then we're not going anywhere, buddy. Me and Carolina love a good show of grown ass men acting like babies." Matt smiled at Chris, trying to be supportive and just get the big idiot to let them fix his head. As they did, Matt didn't move his hand when Chris held it. And he tried not to laugh his ass off when Chris freaked out at the sight of the needle coming closer.
*
"No! No! Please, I swear it'll heal, just stop stabbing me!" Punk mimicked as they walked to the parking lot. A bunch of people left already, leaving just Matt, Punk, and Chris. Matt tried to call Adam, but he got his voicemail- Vince was probably still chewing him out.
"Shut up, you hypocrite," Chris muttered, "I bet if I came at you with a needle you'd act the same way."
"I'm covered in piercings, you fucking retard! God, Chris, you'd think a 'good, honest man' like yourself could possibly take two minutes and shove the gimmick down your throat? I'm not Greedy CM Punk 24/7."
Matt laughed. "You two are idiots."
"That's why you love us," Punk said, but froze, realizing they were with Chris.
But Chris took it in stride and said, "Thanks for staying with me, I'll just go to my car now-"
Matt grabbed Chris' arm before he could leave. "You're in no condition to drive."
"Do you really have no one who could've waited for you?" Punk asked.
Chris shook his head. "My best friend won't talk to me," he said softly, looking directly at Matt. Matt gulped, and Punk noticed the awkward moment, so he decided to cut the tension.
"We'll drive you to the hotel, okay?" Chris nodded, but, while they walked over to Chris' car, Chris suddenly stopped and spewed his dinner all over the sidewalk. Matt and Punk jumped back in disgust. "God, Jericho, what did you eat?"
"Shit, that stinks," Matt said, fanning his nose.
"It's puke," Chris mumbled, "What did you expect?"
"Alright, that bastard is not getting yak all over me," Punk said, disgusted.
Matt rolled his eyes. "Please tell me you have a plastic bag or something in your car, Chris."
"I have a laundry bag."
"Will do." Punk looked at both of them, confused.
"He's going to puke in a laundry bag?"
"Better in that then on us," Matt said, "Let's go." And, while they kept their distance from Chris in case he felt another coming on, Chris could still feel them near. And, despite being sick, all he could think about was Matt taking care of him.
*
They drove around town until they found a Wal-Mart. Matt went inside to buy some stuff for Chris while Punk watched him.
"How does chair-head action equal vomit?" Punk asked.
"I dunno, jackmule, ask a doctor," Chris said.
"What's your fucking deal?" Punk asked, "You've had this little thing for Carolina for ages, but you've never done shit about it. Why now?"
Chris looked up. "He didn't tell you?"
"Didn't tell me what?" Punk asked.
"How this all started. What he and Copeland did to me... well, mostly Copeland, but Matt too." Chris shook his head. "I don't blame Matt, but... damn. I know he said no, but the situation was just..."
"Said no to what?" Punk insisted, now confused, "What did you, him, and Adam do?"
Chris shook his head. "If your Carolina didn't tell you, it's not my place to say."
"Hey! Only I can call him Carolina." Punk said defensively.
"Why do you call him Carolina?" Chris asked.
"Because he's from fucking North Carolina, you doofus."
"No! I mean, as opposed to his name," Chris said.
Punk smiled. "If your beloved Mattie didn't tell you, then it's not MY place to say."
"Your secret, huh?" Chris said. Punk nodded.
"What happens on a beach in North Carolina stays at a beach in North Carolina," Punk said.
Chris looked at him. "We were once friends too, you know. Not like I was with Matt, but we were friends."
"I have priorities. Mine are to my work, my lifestyle, Reject, my family, and Carolina. You messed with my work and Carolina- two out of five is enough for me to cut you loose," Punk said.
"I don't want to hurt him," Chris said.
"Fuck what you want, Chris, it's what you're doing that matters." Punk looked at him. "Why can't you just leave him alone?"
"Because I love him, and you and I both know that Adam... Adam's eventually going to hurt him. Badly."
"Adam is not the fucking Antichrist!" Punk shouted, "Even though he does slimy shit now and again, he's pretty decent to Carolina. In fact, he's damn good to him, even if he uses him to mess with you. Why are you so hard on him?"
Chris looked at him. "I don't know what you want me to say. If you know that he used Matt to mess with me, you should know he's no good."
"So he sucked him next to your wall! It was a shitty move, but it wasn't so bad..."
"As if he let me fuck him just to taunt me?" Chris asked, a hint of irony in his voice.
"Exactly." Punk said, not catching it, "He didn't pimp Carolina out to you to make you feel bad. He could be a lot worse. And he does love him. So can't you just back off?"
Chris looked down. "That's like asking me to live without water, Punk. He means the world to me."
Punk shook his head. "You sad fuck. If I wasn't so disgusted with your tactics, I'd actually be rooting for you."
"Am I really that bad?"
"You exploited him, Chris. It doesn't matter if you lie to tell the truth- a lie is a lie."
"I have no idea what that means," Chris said.
"I know you don't. And that's the big reason why this is so sad." Punk saw Matt coming back, so he said, "Chris, just... if Carolina wants you, then you can have him. But you can't go the psycho 'bug them until they freak out and give in' route."
"I would never do that to Matt. I don't want him to... freak out and give in. I want him to want to be with me."
"That's so sweet... hey, those are fucking lyrics, you plagiarizing bastard!"
Matt sat back in the car and said, "Let's go." He passed one of the bottles of Ginger Ale he got to Chris. Chris and Punk saw a lipstick print on his cheek and laughed.
Matt blushed. "It's not every day anymore that I meet fans."
"I'm a fan," Chris said, "Can I kiss you?"
"After you brush your teeth, jackmule."
*
Punk and Matt pretty much played Chris' nurses for the night, getting him anything he needed while he laid around. They both complained, but Chris didn't make them stay, so he was sure they just loved the sound of their own mouths.
They got him headache pills and some alka seltzer to settle his stomach, and soon, he felt better. Not good, but better than he did before. Chris smiled, watching his two little nurses prepare a spot on the floor to sleep on. Now, he was grateful to Punk, but that didn't come close to what he was feeling towards Matt. Here was the man of his dreams, devoting his night to making him comfortable.
Matt went through his bag and put on the ratty CM Punk shirt he wore all that time ago, when he and Chris went out. Punk crossed his arms. "I told you to give me that back."
"Fuck you, it's comfortable."
"That's how you want to play it, chunky?" Punk teased. He went into his bag and pulled out a Matt Hardy shirt and put that on. "Look at me, I'm a hillbilly reject who can't wait to have inbred children with my pretty little brother!"
"Jeff can bear children?" Chris asked, amused.
"No, stupid," Matt laughed, "I swear, you two are NOT allowed to gang up on me!" He turned to Chris. "Time for blonde Canadian assholes to go to sleep."
"I don't wanna."
"Too bad, fucker, Carolina's right," Punk said.
"Can you call me Canada?" Chris asked.
"Fuck no."
"Why not?"
"You're not special like me," Matt teased.
"Oh fuck, you got his ego going." Punk grabbed a pillow and tossed it at Chris. "To bed, ass!"
*
Chris' eyes opened and he noticed it was still dark. Fuck, this headache was killing him. He sat up and saw the TV on. Was either of them awake? Punk didn't look like it. "Matt?" he whispered.
"What?" Ah, so he was awake.
"Why are we watching the Jeffersons?" Chris asked.
"Leave it alone. Punk might look asleep, but, if you turn that off or change the channel, he'll slit both our throats."
"Punk likes the Jeffersons?"
"Strange but true," Matt said.
"Oh." Chris looked at him. "Thanks for taking care of me."
"Chris, you're my friend and you're sick. It was the least I could do."
"We haven't been so friendly as of late."
"You've been TOO friendly as of late," Matt pointed out.
"Touche. But, Matt, this might be a lot to ask... but it's for me. It'll help me heal."
"Sure. Name it, then."
"Come up here," Chris whispered, patting the bed.
"How the fuck will that help you?" Matt snapped, not so mad as... surprised.
"I don't think I can go back to sleep... I just want you up here to help me sleep. Please. Just lay down with me; I won't try anything."
Chris thought Matt was going to refuse, but then he stood up and brought his pillow to the bed. He lay next to Chris and said, "Happy?"
"Very." Chris looked at Punk and the purple shirt he was in. "You two are close."
"Like brothers," Matt said, "Jeff and Mark are inseparable, so I got a lot closer to Punk than before."
Chris looked at them again- hey, they looked more related than Matt and Jeff did. He turned back to Matt and said his name.
"Hmm?"
"Do you... do you regret the threesome?" Chris took a deep breath. "Do you regret having sex with me?"
"Chris, it's in the past..."
"Please Mattie," Chris said, grabbing his hand, "I need to know. Do you wish you never slept with me?"
"No, Chris," Matt said, "I had fun, and I do like you, although I wish you'd leave Adam and I alone."
Chris then brought Matt's hand up to his lips, and Matt shuddered. "I do," he said, "Because there's not a night where memories of that little tryst don't plague my thoughts. Goodnight, Matt."
"Chris, I'm sorry," Matt said, "I don't know what else to say. You guys held me down most of the time anyway, so there wasn't much I could do to stop you. I'm sorry if..."
Chris put his hand over Matt's mouth, cutting him off mid sentence. "Stop apologizing. You never have to apologize- not to me." Matt gulped, and he saw Chris' eyes on his, and he knew he was thinking. Chris broke the stare first and snuggled into his pillow. "Goodnight, Matt."
Matt felt his heart breaking as he watched Chris fall into sleep. He wished there was a way he, Adam, and Chris could all walk away happy... but there wasn't. He couldn't make Chris feel better without betraying Adam.
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