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.
Thanks for the reviews, everyone. So, some violence, lots of angst, some trash talk about yours and my favorite wrestlers, and a little glimmer of hope at the end for Mr. Glitterbutt. Not too much hope, but a little.
Well, here's part fifteen.
Adam watched Matt sleep, a smile on his face. Sure, they didn't have sex, but having him close by always made Adam feel better. And Adam was willing to wait for Matt to be ready for sex.
Matt was nowhere near ready, he knew. He wouldn't be ready, not at least until the purple mark on his neck was fully gone. It was hardly visible now, but it was still there, representing all the trauma of that night. And soon, Adam would fix that too, and then he and Matt could go on like before.
He loved him so much. Ever since he first met him, Adam always had a thing for Matt. And it eventually grew into more than that. Around 2005, he'd say. Around the time he slept with Amy. Yeah, he knew it was messed up, but he justified it in his mind in many ways. One, if Amy was willing to go after one of Matt's friends, she never really loved him. Two, he was the catalyst for ending what was a horrible relationship, so, in the end, it was good for Matt. And three, if sleeping with Amy was the closest thing he'd get to sleeping with Matt, then he would take it.
Adam was so sure Matt just needed time, and then they'd become friends again. But of course, the stupid WWE decided that Adam and Matt had explosive chemistry and needed to be in a feud, over Amy, like if the tramp was worth Adam's time. The lay wasn't even that good; he wondered how Matt stood with her for six years. And then Matt forgave her before he even thought about talking to Adam again.
Adam wanted, no needed Matt to forgive him. He was willing to do anything. And he did it all just to be able to sit near him again, talk to him. He allowed himself to listen to the mindless shit Jeff and Shannon usually talked about. He went to more stupid hick parties then he cared to remember. But it was all worth it... Matt talked to him again.
Then, there was one night. It was late 2008, and they were both coming to the hotel from a party. He wasn't even sure who threw it or who else was there. But Adam remembered how their lips sloppily met, how clothes were shed, and he finally got what he really wanted from Matt. He remembered how Matt tasted, how Matt felt, how good it was to be inside Matt, how fucking perfect it was when Matt was inside him... Everything about that night was just fucking perfect.
Matt didn't regret a thing. Matt decided to see where things would go with Adam. And Adam more than proved that he could make his Mattie happy. But, of course, there was Chris Irvine. Chris was just like him in a way. He hung around Matt, pretending to be his friend, willing to take whatever he could get. Adam knew Chris was just waiting until the person stumbling back from the party with Matt, going up to whoever had the closest hotel room's room...
But now Matt didn't trust Chris. Matt didn't even care for Chris. He wasn't even a friend. And one day, the scars on Matt's heart would heal, and he could live happily, with Adam. Adam would do anything to make that day a reality.
Matt woke up and immediately felt Adam's eyes on him. He turned around and smiled. "Morning."
"Morning, love," he said.
"What were you thinking about?"
"You." Adam moved some hair from the front of his face. "Matt, I want you to know... you set the pace of this relationship, okay? However fast or slow you wanna go, I'm fine with that. I'm just glad I get to hold you again."
Matt's smile widened into a grin and he leaned forward to kiss Adam. "Not everyone would want to wait like that. What did I do to deserve you?"
"Better question, what did I do to deserve you?" Adam shot back. They laughed, and Matt wrapped an arm around Adam, pulling him close. Yes, Adam felt that all was right again.
********
Punk waited as Matt came down from Adam's room. Neither of them could bear to sleep in the room where it happened, and Punk stood with Kofi while Matt obviously was getting reacquainted with Adam Copeland.
"I want to do it here," Punk said, "I want him to feel the pain I felt in this very place, the pain you felt... God, I feel like I've gone mad." It was sick; ever since he was attacked, all he could think about was painting the walls red with his attacker's blood.
"We all go a little mad sometimes," Matt said. Punk couldn't hold a candle to what Matt felt. Whenever he closed his eyes, here Chris was, with his flattery and his fucking persistence. He took everything away from Matt, made him question himself and his love for Adam, made him break Adam's heart, and when shit didn't go his way, he beat up his best friend and then came for him...
Punk looked at him. "Let me guess; you didn't tell anyone what we're planning to do."
"Adam knows we're going to do something, but not what. And Jeff knows, and he wants in."
"He can play look out," Punk said.
"Did you tell anyone?"
"Rey and Kofi have a vague idea. I don't think they really want to know," Punk said, "Carolina, half of me hates this, but the other half wishes we already got our hands on Chris."
"I know how you feel," Matt said. Back in the old days, the WWE was ruled by Gang mentality. Tag teams and stables ran awry, beating up whoever crossed their path. Matt and Jeff swore to themselves they would never get involved in it. And now, when gang mentality was just about dead, here Matt was, leading his little brother and his best friend to do just that.
It's funny, how often people end up doing things they swore they'd never do.
*****************
Chris looked over the shirt he woke up in that fateful morning, but it was a pretty average shirt. Nothing out of the ordinary about it. He didn't recognize it, but it wasn't like it was a shirt you'd remember- it was plain and one color. And since he remembered nothing about the night, it was all just a big jumble.
Half of him was thinking that maybe he could go to the bar, find out where he went from there, maybe jog his memory a little. Fuck alcohol. But damn, he wanted some badly. It'd take the edge off. But then things would get worse, like they did last time. Shit. Fuck alcohol.
He left his hotel room and walked as fast as he could outside. If he lingered too long, someone would catch him... someone would heckle him, hurt him, or remind him that his Matt was hurt, and he was probably to blame.
"Hey Jericho!" Chris turned around and saw Jeff walking up. The next thing he knew, Jeff hit him in the nose, making it bleed. "Let's go," Jeff snapped. He grabbed Chris' arm and began pulling him to the room he came from. "Someone special's waiting for you."
Jeff pushed Chris into the room and then the door closed behind him. He looked up and saw that this room was Matt and Punk's old room. The room where it happened, where his Matt got hurt.
Punk and Matt stood in front of him, and Chris looked down, unable to look at the hatred in either of their eyes. "You knew this was coming," Punk said coldly. Chris nodded, and then he looked at Matt. Whatever it takes to make him feel better, Chris was willing to do. Even if it meant taking all the blows.
Chris didn't know who punched him first. It didn't matter. He let them happen, not fighting at all, imaging that the feeling of being unable to stop your own rape must've been at least three times as painful. There was a few kicks, and someone banged his head against the floor at some point. He was twisted and turned, he eventually started bleeding; but he took it all.
Punk kicked his viciously in the side and then looked at Matt. "Hey Carolina. I think you deserve a few moments alone with the bastard. That cool?"
"Perfect," Matt hissed. Punk left, stepping over Chris' mangled body like it was the most disgusting thing he'd ever seen. As soon as Punk was gone, Matt bent down and pulled Chris up by his hair until they were face to face. "Fight back," Matt said, "I'm not like you; I won't attack someone who can't defend themselves. Fight back."
Chris didn't move. That made Matt angrier, and he slapped Chris. "Fight back!" he yelled, "Protect yourself! Fight back!" He slapped him again, and again, but still Chris did nothing. "Why won't you fight back?" Matt groaned, sounding upset now.
Chris forced himself to look into the hate filled eyes, the pain filled eyes, and told himself not to cry. Matt was like a twisted work of art right now; it was beautiful, but watching too long could make you sob like a child. "Because this doesn't hurt more than the knowledge that someone violated you," he said softly.
"You!" Matt yelled, "You violated me!"
Chris bit his lip. "I... I would never take you without your permission."
Matt blinked, mind suddenly remembering the night when he lost the bet to Chris, when he slept in his room. So smugly, so confidently, he said "The day I finally have you again, beautiful, you're going to ask for me. It won't be forced." And here he was, in effect saying the same thing, but he looked broken. Maybe Punk and Matt weren't the only ones hurt that night.
Matt waved away the thoughts and said, "Then explain the pills. My keycard in your room. Punk's blood on your shirt!"
"I can't," Chris whimpered, "I'm sorry, but I can't. I don't remember. But I'm sure... I'm positive that I could never do that. I could never look at you and think 'let me do something to intentionally hurt him'." Chris put his hand on Matt's cheek, wishing he could make the pain go away. "You mean too much to me."
Matt shook his head and pulled away. He stood up and, not looking at Chris, he said, "I could almost believe you."
Matt didn't take another look at Chris as he walked out. Neither had nothing else to say. What just happened here was too big, too emotional for either to comprehend at the moment. But after that encounter, they both had the same thought on their mind: that Chris was, somehow, innocent.
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