Adam finds himself in bed with Matt again. And, like always, it goes wrong.
~
The "you made me come twice that was so cool" line is from a tumblr post that makes me giggle each time I see it.
~
Matt grins up at Adam, and that ridiculous smile almost makes Adam crawl back into bed. Almost.
“You made me come twice,” Matt says, completely dazed. “That was so cool.”
“This is the dopiest you’ve ever been.” Adam leans down and kisses Matt on the forehead. “Other than the time you took a superkick to the back of the head.”
“That was medical dopiness,” Matt says. He stretches out like a cat. “This is sexual dopiness. Much better.”
“You have to get up now, though.” Adam shakes out his shoulder, still a little numb from all the hits he’s taken over the past few weeks. “I don’t want you to get in trouble for being here.”
“I don’t care if I get in trouble,” Matt says. “Nick can go eff himself.”
“Don’t be a bitch like that,” Adam scolds. “He’s working on it.”
“He is not working on it,” Matt says. He sits up, and Adam tries not to snicker too hard at how fucked up his hair is. “He’s the reason I’m here tonight.”
“Sure,” Adam deadpans. “That’s why.”
“Okay, so the mind numbing sex I knew we’d have is also part of it.”
“I was thinking more that you didn’t want to stay in that shitty hotel for longer than you had to.”
Matt yawns, stretching his hands over his head. His toes curl, and if Adam were ten years younger he’d have Matt underneath him right now. But he’s got stuff to do, and they’ve already risked two hours, and Matt really should get back.
Doesn’t mean that Adam likes it, though. But he can indulge in watching Matt as he languidly adjusts on the bed. “Don’t wear any pants that go down too low for your next couple of matches,” Adam notes.
Matt pouts a little bit. “But why not?”
“Because I don’t need anybody asking questions,” Adam says. “Especially your brother.”
Matt groans, and Adam is starting to remember why the two of them never work. “It’s not like he would say anything. I have plenty of dirt on him.”
“Yeah, but I’ve got nothing on him,” Adam says. “And I don’t like the idea of being your brother’s blackmail.”
Matt rolls his eyes so hard it looks like it hurts. “God, you’re the effing worst. Why can’t you loosen up and have a little fun?”
The sinking feeling in Adam’s stomach comes back, the way it always does at this point in a conversation with Matt. “Man, you really don’t take anything seriously, do you.”
“You’re the one who said you didn’t want anything serious.” Matt won’t meet his eyes.
“Oh my god,” Adam groans. He’s already regretting sleeping with Matt. It’s a new record for the two of them, he’s pretty sure. “This is the problem when we fuck. Every goddamn time, you make it a problem.”
“I make it a problem?” Matt sits up, and Adam is all but furious at how sex mussed his hair still is. “You act like this means something when it’s clearly just sex.”
“You always were the one who wanted more than that!” Adam says. “Matt – Jesus fucking I can’t believe I’m telling you this – I had a goddamned ring. A ring! Because you said this was long term or nothing back before I even won the belt the first time. So I decided long term. I decided that, Matt, and then you went and dumped me because you decided you found something better than a relationship.” He can’t help but scoff. “EVP priorities my ass. You just wanted power.”
Matt leaps out of the bed, eyes burning. “You are the one who wants power, Adam.” The bite of the real name hurts, a little bit. But not enough to back down. “Which of us got the main title, huh?”
“Only because you’re still umbilically attached to your brother!”
Matt rolls his eyes. “We’re not twins.”
“That’s not the fucking – whatever.” Adam takes a deep breath, since it seems like he has to be the adult in the conversation. “I thought you’d changed. Apparently I’m wrong.”
Matt softens. “I – I’m trying.”
“Try harder,” Adam says. “Please.” He didn’t mean to add that last word. It feels too earnest, too real. But the shift in Matt’s demeanor tells him it may have been the right risk to take.
“Why?” Matt asks, almost in a whisper. “Why should I try?”
“Because there’s more you can do than dance around and pretend everything is okay.” He sighs and runs his hand through his hair, and wishes there were a kinder way to say this. “Matt, you’re at rock bottom. Even if you’re looking at it through rose colored glasses.”
Matt presses his lips together and fidgets. Good. It means Adam is getting through to him, or something is. “That’s not what it is.”
“It is, Matt.” Adam sighs. “You should really get back, and I should get some sleep. We have a big show tomorrow, and you have a million dollars to win.”
Matt nods. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, I guess we do.” He stands slowly, like he isn’t sure where to go next. A younger version of Adam would have changed his mind, pulled Matt back to bed, said fuck it to logic and make the wrong decision.
But here they are. And Adam will never be as young as he was when he loved Matt.
“Make the right decision, Matt.”
The door closes behind Matt.
And Adam can only hope Matt listened.
~
Mini Playlist:
Trade Mistakes - Panic! at the Disco
Act Like You Meant It - Carter Vail
I'm Getting Over You - The Click Five
Love Is a Suicide - Natalia Kills
Damn it December day 6: Finding the perfect gift for the other person while they are right there
~
“Oh my god.”
“What’s wrong?”
Before Matt can see it, Adam shoves the necklace underneath the ties on the display next to the jewelry counter. “Nothing.”
Matt stares. “Um. Are you good?”
Adam nods. “Yeah. Sorry. The, um,” he looks down at the display. “A sparkle looked like a bee."
“A bee?” Matt narrows his eyes. “Why are those ties messed up?”
“What ties?” Adam scoots and leans so the ties are out of sight. “Hey. Look over there.”
Matt laughs, almost a giggle. “You found something you think I’d like, didn’t you.”
“No. Maybe.” Adam sighs. “Look, go stare at a wall or a pair of sneakers on the other side of the mall or something.”
“Did you find my Christmas present?”
“I have found a sparkle that looks like a bug, and that’s all you’re gonna get.”
“Works for me.” Matt leans over and kisses him. “I’m going to go look at sneakers I probably already own. Meet me there.”
“Bye!”
Adam relaxes.
“I trust you’re doing better now that he’s not here,” the clerk says, and Adam would be lying if he said that didn’t startle him.
“I found the perfect necklace, and he was standing next to me.” Adam tries to be composed about it. He gently pulls the necklace out from under the ties. “Desperate times. You know.”
The clerk chuckles. “What can I help you with, sir.”
“I’ll be purchasing this, please.” Adam adjusts the ties. “And, uh. Sorry for messing up the display.”
“I get commission, so as long as you’re actually buying this,” he dangles the admittedly pricey necklace, “I’m not worried.”
Adam pays, puts the ties back as they were, and slides the bag with the necklace in it inside the other bag he was carrying.
“Good luck,” says the clerk. “I bet he’ll love it.”
Damn it December day 17: Jury duty, but make it holiday
(I truly do not know what I was on when I came up with this bizarre prompt)
~
“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.” Matt holds up the paper. “Look at this! Jury duty! Two days after Christmas!”
“That is, like, the most normal thing you’ve ever held up in my face.” Nick frowns at him. “Wait, does that say Matthew Buck?”
“Huh?” Matt grabs it and takes a peek. He’d read through the dates in a fury. He hadn’t taken the chance to actually read his name. “Oh. That says Matthew Buck.”
“I think they may have, like,” Nick squints. “Yeah, see?” He points. “This isn’t your social security number.”
“Oh! You’re right – wait, how do you know my social.”
“Don’t ask,” Nick say, and Matt would press if Nick hadn’t been right. “Anyway, I think they messed you up with some other dude.”
Twenty minutes and a phone call later, Matt’s off the phone with the office that schedules.
“Good news and bad news,” Matt says. “Good news, we were right. That jury summons was for some guy who lives in an apartment in the county. Bad news, they figured out I haven’t had jury duty in 20 years.”
“Lovely,” Nick says. “Now you can celebrate the day after Christmas without getting dressed.”
Damn it December days 29 and 30: Post-Christmas decoration shopping and Blue, gold, and silver
~
“Oh, that is magnificent.”
“What is?” Matt asks. He looks up from his phone and sees the most absurd thing he could have imagined. “I wouldn’t call it magnificent.”
“What would you call it?” Adam asks. His voice is weirdly dreamy.
“It’s atrocious.”
“I need it,” Adam says, hands on his hips. “Look at it. It’s perfect.”
Matt is trying his best to decipher exactly what is going on. “What, uh,” Matt says. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why are you all about this weird snowman?” Matt asks. “It’s not even Christmassy. It’s more, like, blue. And silver.” He leans in. “And, to be fair, the nose is gold. Which is almost a Christmas color, but not really.”
“Exactly!” Adam says. His eyes really are lighting up. “It’s perfect. It’s the perfect winter decoration.” He sighs and reaches out, picking it up. “Oh!”
Matt, who is secretly hoping Adam’s found something on the weird metal snowman that he no longer likes, tries to seem casual when he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” Adam says. He flips a switch.
And the damned thing lights up. It flickers between golden yellow, neon blue, and white lights. Adam plays with the buttons and the colors change pattern.
“Oh, god.”
“We’re buying it,” Adam declares. “This is my new best friend.”
Two hours later, Adam has set up the garish, metal, light up snowman on their front door in place of the garland that was, admittedly, shedding needles like crazy.
“There,” Adam says. “This is great. I think I’ll name him Frosty.”
“You know what?” Matt says. “Whatever makes you happy, baby.”
Adam leans in and kisses the hat on the snowman.
“Are you gonna leave me for a metal holiday decoration?”
Adam turns, grinning. “No promises.”
~
That last exchange I have used in about 12 things I've written so far, and it came to me in a dream 10 years ago. The line was, "Are you gonna leave me for a ninja turtle?" "No promises." I never said it was deep.
Damn it December Days 19 and 20: Accidentally finding the other person's gift stash and Somebody acquires too many Christmas-themed snacks
~
It’s fully an accident. Matt will swear it up and down for the rest of his life.
The mistake is the location of the elliptical is the thing. Matt knew the two of them should have moved it years ago – it’s too close to the wall near the closet, he always said. Well. Adam always said. But Matt agreed. They just never got around to it.
So here he is now, ass deep in the wall, trying to figure out how to get out of the hole in the plaster without hurting himself seriously. There are definitely scratches on his back but that’s nothing new.
While he tries to haul himself out again, something shifts in his balance. He falls even further through the wall and into the back closet. The one that Adam uses all the time. The one that, generally, Matt avoids.
The one, it seems, is where Adam hides the Christmas presents.
“Holy shit!” Adam says. Matt can only assume it’s Adam running through the house toward him. Everything is muffled here in the closet, and he can’t see a damned thing. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” Matt says. “I think. Can you help me out?”
“I think it may work best if I get you out through the door,” Adam says. “The hole is…not quite big enough.”
Matt giggles.
“Oh, stop it.”
The light pours in and Matt sees a lot. He slaps his hands over his face, trying not to ruin any of the surprises, but the shift in balance sends him ass over tea kettle backwards. Flailing, he reaches out and catches himself on something that crunches.
“Oh my god,” he says, reaching out to take Adam’s hand. “I just crushed whatever that was.”
“Christmas cookies,” Adam says, sounding resigned. “Like, every brand.”
“I – what?”
“You know how it is,” Adam says. Matt squints as he’s back in normal lighting. “The deals are good, and then the cart is full, and boom.” He gestures back into the closet. “Christmas cookies.”
“At least I didn’t land on any of the gifts,” Matt offers. “And I didn’t look. Not on purpose.”
Adam grins. “Cool. Then one more of our presents will be repairing that wall.”
Happy Halloween! The scariest thing for Matt Jackson is the idea of being held accountable!
~
“You have got to be kidding me.”
Matt throws on what Nick calls his “whiny bitch look”. Matt calls it an effective pout. It works on almost everyone. “It’s just for a second,” Matt says. “A couple of days. We’ll get the money back.”
Hangman leans against the door frame, face completely blank. Matt thinks it’s control. It has to be. “You want me to give you money,” Hangman says. “You. You need money.”
“Nick keeps gambling everything we own away,” Matt says. He’s not whining. Not technically. It’s something in between – something that used to always work on Hangman. Back then. “We just need enough to get a nicer hotel room.”
Hangman scoffs. “You’re begging to get suite level digs? Are you shitting me?”
Matt resists the urge to stomp his foot. “Look, I’m just asking for help.”
“You’re begging me for money.”
“Fine!” Matt says, throwing his hands in the air. “God! I’ll just ask somebody else for help. You’re the worst.”
“And you’re a douche,” Hangman says.
Matt thinks slamming the door in his face is a dick move on Hangman’s part, but he can take a hint.
His next attempt – ugh, is Kenny. He’s backstage tonight, mostly helping some of the newer people, but he’s got his own office, at least. Matt adjusts his hair and straightens. He clears his throat. And he knocks.
“Hey, I only – the fuck are you doing here?”
“Hello, Kenny,” Matt says. “I was coming to ask for some help.”
“Some,” Kenny says slowly, “help.”
Matt nods. “We need money.”
“No.”
“Wait!” Matt shoves his foot in the door before Kenny can slam it. It hurts, but he can’t let this moment pass. “Please?”
“Are you seriously asking me for money?” Kenny asks. “Me.”
“I – look, we sent you a get well soon card.”
Kenny’s eyes narrow. “Did you?”
Matt nods. “With flowers.”
“With – oh, my fucking god.” Kenny drops his head into his hands. “You fucking idiots never signed the card. I was thinking this whole time they were from some deranged fan.”
“They are from fans!” Matt says, smiling as big as he can. “Me and Nick are fans.”
“You and Nick are deranged, all right. Goodbye, Matt.”
And he kicks Matt’s toes hard enough to get the door to shut.
“Alright. Other options.”
Seven other people. He walks around to seven other people to ask them for money. He feels pathetic. He feels embarrassed. He feels like he wants to punch Nick in the shoulder.
He walks into the main locker room, because they still don’t have any space to themselves, and sits down on a bench. Just a bench. And there’s not even a single nice chair.
He sighs, loudly, and hears someone outright laughing.
“Laugh it up,” Matt grumbles. “Go ahead.”
“You two haven’t changed at all.”
Anticipation and panic thrum through Matt’s body as he looks up to see Eddie peering at him.
“Go away.”
“Oh, you’re gonna turn me away?”
Matt doesn’t want to admit why he doesn’t want to ask anything of Eddie. Mainly because he knows they both already know exactly why. “Yes,” Matt says, as authoritatively as possible. “Have a good day.” He turns on his heel and starts to walk away, but then Eddie grabs him by the arm. A flare of heat courses through Matt’s stupid old traitor of a body.
“Come on, Matty,” Eddie says, and god does Matt hate what that voice does to him. He tries to shake Eddie loose.
“I’ll be going now,” Matt says. He can’t meet Eddie’s eyes.
“You ain’t going nowhere and you know it.”
And then he caves.
Matt looks up, and Eddie looks down, and Matt really, really wishes he were anywhere else but here.
“We gotta talk.”
“We don’t.”
“We do.” Eddie glances around. “Come on. I got a place.”
“I am not going anywhere with you.” Eddie raises an single eyebrow. Matt sighs. “God. Fine. Where are we going?”
“Locker room.”
Matt groans. “Do I have to go back there?”
Eddie turns back to him. “Are you kidding me? My locker room. Me and Hook’s really, but you know.”
Matt’s so baffled he allows himself to be dragged down the hallway and thrown into a room. He should be rather indignant about that at least, but mostly he’s confused.
“You have to be kidding me,” Matt says. He’s sitting on a couch. A couch. He and Nick used to be the ones with couches.
“Well, this is what you get when you’re universally loved and coming back from injury.” Eddie gives Matt that look, that look, and Matt hopes the heat that flares inside of him doesn’t show on his face. “Jesus, really?”
“Shut up. Leave me alone. You made me come in here.” Matt curls up on himself. “What do you want with me?”
“Not the game I’m playing, Matty, but I appreciate the attempt.”
“There was no attempt!” Matt knows that was a little too loud. Maybe, even, a little too defensive. He chooses not to look at Eddie.
“The fuck is up with you and your brother?” Eddie asks. “And don’t bullshit me. You know I’m the wrong one to try that on.”
Matt sighs. Like, for a really long time. Maybe if he just keeps sighing he’ll pass out and they’ll have to call medical and he’ll get out of this conversation.
“Are you fucking holding your breath?”
Matt tries to look normal as he does actually inhale. “No.”
“You’re not getting out of this conversation,” Eddie says. “What, you break up with me and then I get injured and you turn into somebody else?” He scoffs, and Matt tries not to feel too burnt by that.
“I didn’t break up with you,” Matt mumbles. “I said we should put a pause on everything.”
“Yeah, because you didn’t like me bringing up that maybe you were getting a little out of control,” Eddie corrects. “And looks like I was right. Look at the past, what? Year? Year and a half?”
Matt knows the exact days since he and Eddie broke up. Since he decided not to drag Eddie into the ideas he and Nick determined were inevitable.
“Something like that,” Matt says. He keeps his tone light and airy. He doesn’t want Eddie to knows he cares.
“How are you handling the consequences of your actions?”
Matt’s jaw drops before he can stop himself. “Excuse you!”
“Do you not think you deserve the public flogging you’re getting?”
“We both know that’s not the kind of flogging I’m interested in,” Matt fires back. Eddie has the audacity to laugh.
“Well, good to know that hasn’t changed.”
Matt feels a combination of appreciated and indignant, a blend that hasn’t struck him since he last saw Eddie. “You’re using my feelings as a weapon, you know.”
“You learn that in therapy?”
“Television,” Matt replies. “Look, can I leave?”
Eddie sighs, and Matt is both hopeful and terrified he’s about to tell Matt to go. “If you want.” Eddie looks sad. He tends to always look sad at the end of their conversations. For every conversation Matt can remember, actually. “I don’t know what to do about it, Matt. But you and I both know this isn’t you.”
Instead of telling Matt to leave, Eddie walks out. Just like that.
Matt stares at the half open door for so long his fingers get a little numb from him not moving.
~
“Nick,” Matt says. “Get up.”
Nick looks up from his phone. “What’s gotten up your ass?”
Matt decides not to make a comment the conversation would never recover from. “We need to fix this.”
“Yeah,” Nick says, showing the gambling app on his phone. “I’m playing that while I’m on hold with some local news show. Local! But they’re willing to pay –”
“That’s not what I mean,” Matt says. “We need to fix this.” He gestures around himself. Then between the two of them. “We need to fix ourselves.”
Nick studies him. “What exactly does that mean?”
“This isn’t working,” Matt says. He doesn’t know why he feels desperate. He doesn’t know why he feels like this is so important. “Whatever – whatever we’re doing, it’s not working. We’re broke. We’re miserable. Everything sucks.” He sits down next to Nick. He needs him to understand. “And we can fix it.”
He can’t fully read Nick’s face. Not fully. But he can see that Nick can tell that this is important to him. And that means he’s halfway there.
~
Mini Playlist:
Monster - Lady Gaga
Devils Don't Fly - Natalia Kills
My Own Medicine - The Summer Set
Harder to Kill - Carter Vail
Adam wakes up the Wednesday of after becoming World Champion again, and thinks that maybe there are some changes that could be made. What he doesn't expect is for some things to be exactly the same.
~
Hello hi I wrote this back in August. Whoops. Hope you enjoy!
~
Adam wakes up the Wednesday morning after his win and, once again, has to roll over and stare at his name on the belt to make sure it’s all real. The soreness of his body tells one story, but only the belt makes it the fairy tale ending he never thought he’d deserve.
For the second time.
He tosses the covers away from himself and checks the time. Five in the morning, as it always is when he wakes up in a hotel room. Doesn’t matter where he is, or the time zone. He almost always wakes up at five. Most of the time he can’t get back to sleep. He doesn’t feel the need to try this time, at least.
One mediocre hotel gym workout and an almost too hot shower later, he’s got his bag hauled over his shoulder and his belt in his hands as he walks into the venue. AEW’s already got security prepared as usual. Once he parks he should at least he should be able to get in without trouble. As long as he can make it across the parking lot without getting jumped.
He doesn’t like to think that way, but this company has a handful of people he’s pretty sure will forsake the law in order to take him down.
He does make it without incident, though. “Adam Page,” he says walking to the gate.
The security guide lifts his head and grins. “Dude, you need no introduction. I have special notes to send you directly to the – what was it called, Christy?”
“Champions Suite,” the person next to him says. She’s rapidly typing away on her laptop. Adam finds himself a bit mesmerized.
Adam raises an eyebrow. “Suite?”
She looks up, her fingers still flying across the keyboard. “Prior champions repeatedly rejected the Champion’s room since August. They figured you could have something fancier since you brought the feeling back.” She winks and gets back to work.
“Cool,” he says. He’s a bit dazed, maybe a bit in awe, as he takes the little printed out map from the security guard – Alexander, his name tag says – and the access passes are pressed into his hand. “That’s – wow.”
“You deserve it,” Alexander says. There’s no mistaking that look in his eye. Adam’s probably never going to get used to it.
“Well, thank you for saying that, Alexander,” and Adam also doesn’t miss the way Alexander’s cheeks flush with Adam using his name. “Couldn’t have done it without everybody involved in AEW, and I mean it.” He nods to the two of them and heads inside.
He’s kind of glad nobody followed him inside or anything, because he immediately gets turned around. Venues start looking a little similar after all this time.
“Hangman!”
He jumps, a little. Part of him worries, always, that it’s someone lurking around the corner. Waiting for him. It’s silly, he knows, to still be so paranoid after all that’s happened. But one thing he understands best about himself is that there’s no erasing the past. When he turns around, Austin Gunn of all people is waving at him frenetically.
“Hangman!” Austin says. Adam’s a bit wary, as he always is with this so-called Bang Bang Gang, but he waves either way.
“Hey, man,” he says. He looks behind himself. Just checking.
“Oh, nobody else is here yet,” Austin said. “Just me and Colton.”
“I don’t think that’s as comforting as you’re trying to make it sound.”
Austin tilts his head to the side. “Huh?”
“I – never mind,” Adam says. He fights a smile. “What’s up?”
“Just wanted to say hey,” Austin says. “It’s been a while. Pretty rad we got back just in time for you to win it all back, you know? Makes the place feel whole again. Makes it feel like AEW’s supposed to feel.”
Adam’s chest tightens. “Man, that’s – that’s real nice of you, Austin.”
Austin reaches out – Adam’s pretty sure his arms got even bigger in the time he’s been gone – and pats Adam on the shoulder. “We’re glad to have you leading this place, man. I hope it ends better than last time. You deserve it.”
Now Adam’s stomach flips over a little. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I hope so too.”
~
The conversation with Austin is not the only one of its kind. Harley and Anna, charmingly chaotic, tell him he should have kept this belt the whole time.
“That’s very sweet, ladies, but that feels a little excessive.”
“Excess,” Harley says, looking even more crazed in the mask, “is my thing.” She shimmies, slaps Anna’s ass, and cartwheels away.
“Sorry about her,” Anna says.
“Nothing to apologize for. We were both in Dark Order. Compared to them, she’s nothing.”
Roddy. Bandido. Willow. People come up to him and tell him he deserves this, should stay champion, earned it.
And Adam has an idea.
“You seen the EVPs?” Adam says, peeking his head in to medical.
“We don’t have any EVPs, other than Kenny, and he’s not here,” Bennett, the younger guy he remembers from a few years back, says. “Remember?”
“Course I remember you,” Adam says. “Wait. You mean about the EVPs. Huh.” He puts his hands on his hips. “Huh.”
~
Adam catches Matt in the hallway. Literally catches him as he runs down the hallway.
“Jesus, who lit a fire under your ass?”
“Someone,” Matt says, “signed us up for some asinine tag tournament, when we specifically requested that we be given a tag match.”
Adam raises an eyebrow. “Isn’t that technically a tag match?”
Matt scoffs and rolls his eyes. Adam still finds it cute, even though he’s mad about it. “Yes, Adam, but it was the spirit of the request.”
“Well, then request out of it,” Adam says. “Look, on that angle, I was hoping I could get in the ear of you EVPs and make sure I get matches that really work this time around.” He stares at Matt. “I want stories. I want meaning. I wanna make sure that every time I win, it’s against someone who earned the spot, not begged for it.”
“Aren’t you begging for a spot?”
Adam’s not sure what his expression looks like, but the way Matt recoils tells him it’s something a little fierce. “I’m asking for what I deserve,” Adam corrects. “And even you can admit my last reign could have been better.” Matt just shrugs. Adam continues. “You’re an EVP. Don’t you have control over that stuff?”
“We’re not EVPs anymore.”
Adam scoffs. “Yeah, okay, I believe that. You and I both know you two are too up y’alls own asses to give up any kind of power.”
Matt has the audacity to look shocked. “That’s a pretty weird way to talk to someone that you’re currently trying to get a favor out of.”
“This is not – ” But Adam stops. The two of them have been down this road a thousand times. They’re too old to do it this way anymore. He breathes and adjusts the belt on his shoulder. “Look, I’m champion. You two are still technically in charge, even though you don’t get the company name or card anymore. You have to be able to do something.”
“Nick’s not gonna talk to you,” Matt says, arms over his chest. “He’s still mad at you.”
“I’m still mad at him,” Adam scoffs. “You two are the ones who did the EVP trigger on me in the middle of a match.” He pauses. “Are we back to calling it the BTE trigger now?”
“I don’t know,” Matt says, and he looks so miserable Adam almost feels bad for him. But part of it, if not all of it, is performative. “Look, are you here to make fun of me? If you’re just here to make fun of me, then get it over with.”
“I want,” Adam says, and he takes a second to glance around him, “thirty minutes with the former EVPs to make sure that nobody screws me this time.”
Realization washes over Matt’s face. “Oh,” he says. “Oh, well. I mean. I’ve never been in charge of booking, Hanger. You know that.”
“You have contacts with people who do.” Adam stares him down. Matt’s never won an argument with him yet. Adam’s not going to let him start now.
Matt sighs. “Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I can’t promise anything.”
“I don’t want you to promise anything other than you’re gonna try.” Adam tries to soften his expression. “For old time’s sake.”
Matt flushes. “For – for old time’s sake,” he mutters. “That’s one way to put it.”
~
He gets a text a few hours before the next Dynamite to meet him in room 205, which he assumes will be a conference room.
It’s not.
It seems like, at best, an office. At worst, a closet.
“Uh,” he says, mid knock as the door opens. “Hi.”
“Hello,” Matt says. “Come on in.”
“Into – okay.” He nods. More of an office, at least. There are chairs.
He sits at the small table and watches as Matt shuts the door and stands, looking at Adam expectantly.
Adam clears his throat. “The door is closed.”
Matt nod. “Yes.”
“There’s only us in here.”
Matt nods again, looking at him like maybe Adam is going to get it eventually, but is a little slow on the uptake. “Yes.”
“Tony?” Adam asks. “CD? Jerry?” He stares at Matt, who is completely blank. “You said it yourself, Matt. You never had booking ability, even when you were an EVP.”
Matt finally looks away. “Um, yeah. About that.”
For a horrible, fleeting moment, Adam thinks Matt is about to tell him that every booking choice in this company actually did involve him and Nick. But when Matt looks back, there’s no guilt in those eyes. If he looks hard enough, Adam sees a rare flicker of shame. “Matt, what happened?”
“I’ve got no pull anymore.” Matt sits down on the weird little chair at the end of the small table. Sits is the wrong word – instead he almost slides into the chair until he flops back against it in a very liquid manner. “I asked to meet with Tony and they said I needed an appointment.” Matt scoffs and blows a lock of hair out of his eyes. “An appointment! Me! In this company?”
“Did you and Nick try going together?”
Matt scoffs and slumps further into the chair. “Yeah. We even went to CD. We even called Kenny for help. Kenny didn’t even pick up the phone.”
“Are you surprised?”
“Excuse you!” Matt throws himself down on the table, face down. “You don’t have to rub it in. I’m already miserable.”
“You earned it,” Adam says. He can’t lie and say this isn’t a little bit fun. “Consequences of your actions and all of that.”
“Says you,” Matt grumbles.
“Says logic,” Adam counters. “You were a little shit for, like, a year. You didn’t expect it to bite you in the ass?”
Matt sits up and glares at Adam. “You,” he says, “are being an asshole.”
Adam leans forward. “I,” he says, matching tone for tone, “am the one with a belt.”
Matt’s eyes flame. And then the weirdest thing happens.
The table really is small. Small enough that, say, if two people lean across it, their faces are quite close.
Small enough that old habits rush forward.
Adam isn’t sure who did it, but one of them kissed the other and now Adam is dragging Matt across the table into his lap. It’s a bad idea. But, then again.
Matt moans and practically melts into Adam’s touch, hands scrabbling under Adam’s shirt. Adam should be seriously reconsidering all of this – hooking up with Matt is never his best decision – but Matt’s making little whimpery noises and he’s grinding against Adam’s lap desperately. Unfortunately, Adam’s last shred of logic is gone. He’s got the belt on his shoulder and Matt’s back in his lap. What’s one bad decision?
Adam leans back as Matt yanks at his shirt. “Fuck,” Adam says. “Watch the belt.”
“Don’t worry,” Matt says, and he pauses and grabs it, placing it gently on the table. “I got it.” He licks his lips, and stares down Adam’s mouth. “You look good.”
“So do you.” If Adam didn’t know Matt better, he’d think Matt was reconsidering. Instead, he knows what those eyes mean.
“I, um,” Matt says. “I’m using this as my office. And Nick’s, but he’s busy.”
“Yeah?”
“I have – I have my stuff.”
Adam fights a laugh. “Stuff? Like your paperwork?”
Matt groans. “I – are you gonna eff me or not?”
“Eff you?” Adam asks. “You mean fight you?” It’s too goddamned easy. It’s too easy to fall back into this.
Matt groans and ducks his head, hair a curtain around his face. “Will you fuck me?”
“That depends,” Adam asks, even as his pants are very, very tight. “Are you begging?”
Matt whimpers. “I’m begging,” he says. “Please fuck me.”
Adam grins. “Get your stuff, baby.”
He knew he was right by the way Matt throws himself off of Adam’s lap and rushes to his bag. Matt never traveled without condoms and an obscene amount of lube back in the day. From the look of Matt bent over, digging in his bag, it hasn’t changed.
Matt turns around quickly, and the way he relaxes is odd. Until Adam realizes that Matt was thinking Adam would bolt.
Once Matt shakes it off, though, he rips off his shirt and throws it somewhere in the tiny room. “Pants,” Matt says. “Off. Pants off.”
“One or two words now,” Adam chuckles. He lifts his hips and shoves his pants down. “Love it when you can’t talk.”
Matt mutters something that Adam can’t quite make out, but then there’s a warm, slick hand around his cock and Adam doesn’t think it’s necessary to think.
“Hold on there, you fucking lunatic,” Adam says, stilling Matt before he can do something stupid and hurt himself. “Even a size queen can’t wrestle after no prep fucking.”
Matt huffs and squirms. “But –”
“Exactly,” Adam says. “Your butt will hurt.”
“Can you at least pretend there’s some romance in this or something?”
Adam raises an eyebrow. “You want romance? After everything?”
“I want something,” Matt says.
Adam grabs Matt’s hips and spins him, a hand on his lower back to press him down on the table. “You want something? I’ll give you something I know you’ll like.” He reaches a bit forward, sure to grind his dick against Matt’s ass, and grabs the lube from him.
Matt still makes the same noises as Adam works his finger into Matt. He still squirms back against Adam’s hand, still stands on his toes to try and control the angle, still reaches a hand back to try and pull Adam closer.
“Ready,” Matt pants. “I – I’m ready.”
“Like hell you are,” Adam says. “You haven’t changed a damned bit.”
He takes his time this time, because making Matt whimper and beg is always more fun. “Alright, now you’re ready.” Adam murmurs. He resists the urge to kiss the spot in between Matt’s shoulder blades like he used to. Right before he slid home, he would press his lips there. Just to remind Matt.
But they’re different people now. And Matt doesn’t need to be reminded of anything.
“Please?” Matt asks, and his tone is so miserable and desperate Adam almost laughs.
“Yeah, Matt. I’ll give you what you want.”
He doesn’t make it precious or sweet, doesn’t take his time. He realizes he’s still wearing the belt. He keeps it on. He likes how it looks against Matt’s skin. Matt’s got himself splayed across the table, lifting his hips to meet Adam, and it’s kind of funny how easily they fall into this pattern. It’s been long enough that Adam knows better. It’s also been long enough that he doesn’t care.
“Faster,” Matt says, squirming. “Faster.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Adam says, picking up the pace. He remembers the way Matt really likes it, fast and hard and with a little bit of drag. “You haven’t changed a bit.”
He’s well aware this room is labeled with Matt’s name and that means any number of people could run by here and barge in, so he licks up his hand and reaches around to get a handful of Matt.
“Oh, god,” Matt says. “Oh my god.”
“Yeah?” Adam says. “You close?” He picks up the pace, just a little bit. “Barely touched you, and you’re about to make a mess out of this room. Fuckin’ typical.”
“Keep talking,” Matt whimpers. “Please?”
“Nothing ever changes with you,” he says again, “predictable, no matter what.”
Matt can’t even respond, just whines.
“Yeah, figured. You’ll always love getting fucked.”
It’s obvious, when Matt reaches his limit, when he’s seconds from flying over the edge, so Adam cups his hand and catches it when Matt comes like a live wire, tightens around him. Adam only half gets the idea to grab at the box of tissues to wipe off his hand before Matt is begging, pleading for him to keep fucking him.
“Jesus – you think I’m going through all of this and not coming?” Adam asks. “You’re impossible.”
“You know I like it – god – when it’s too much.” Matt starts panting, and that’s it for Adam. He shoves himself into Matt as deeply as he can, the edges of the belt pressing into his skin and the rest pressing into Matt. And he stays there, unmoving, for a little longer than he probably should.
He exhales when time finally becomes important to him again and pulls away. There are patterns across his skin and Matt’s where the belt left its mark.
“Look at that,” Adam murmurs, tracing the faint imprint. “I like that, even though it’s in reverse.” He traces the letters. “You got my name on your back, baby.” He hadn’t meant to add that last word.
Matt tenses for a second, then relaxes like he’s forcing himself to. “Can you take a picture?”
“You want a picture of my name on you?” Adam asks.
Matt turns around and looks over his shoulder, those giant brown eyes that look like the deer that like to run through his back yard open and wanting. “Yes,” he breathes.
This is stupid and a bad idea, because anyone could look over his shoulder when he’s typing or looking at the picture when he shouldn’t be. But he knows himself well enough to know he’ll take this picture, and he knows himself well enough to know that he’ll open this photo more than he should.
He slips out of Matt as he reaches and grabs his phone, and takes a couple of shots. “I’ll text them to you later,” he says. He does one last trace of the marks, already starting to fade. “Once you forget how it all felt when I was in you and on you.”
Matt whimpers. “Yeah. Okay.”
The room is silent, a roar in Adam’s ears telling him to say something, do something, run away, kiss Matt, anything.
The door slams open, and Adam, who hasn’t even pulled his goddamned pants back over his ass, freezes like an idiot.
“Holy shit,” Mox says, eyes widening. They finally settle on the belt – the only thing that stayed on during sex. “Oh, are you fucking kidding me?”
“Not your belt anymore, Jonathan,” Matt says, a sneer to his tone.
“Why’re you getting bitchy with me, princess?” Mox asks. It’s enough of a distraction for Adam to get his damned pants on. “We were best friends just a few weeks ago.” And he winks.
“Of course you did,” Adam sighs, fixing his regular belt. He doesn’t even know which one of them he’s talking to. “Get out, Mox.”
“No!” Mox says. “I – fuck off.”
Adam giggles. Just a little bit. “Already did, but thanks.”
“I’m getting that back,” Mox says, darkly. “I’ll get it back.”
“Yeah, you keep telling yourself that,” Matt snaps.
“You’ve got a lot of attitude for a bitch with his pants by his ankles,” Mox says. Matt flames pink again and scrambles to get dressed. Adam can see the imprint of his belt, almost faded away, disappear underneath Matt’s shirt.
“You really wanna do this Mox?” Adam throws his shirt on and buttons it up. “Do you really want me to kick your ass again?” He nods at the bandage on Mox’s forehead. “I can do way worse without cameras.”
“That a promise, cowboy?” Mox licks his lips, and Matt nearly starts growling. Mox snickers. A little mean, the way Matt likes it, but it doesn’t seem to be doing the trick.
Adam squares up a little bit. “He ain’t yours anymore.”
“Please leave,” Matt says, clipped, before Mox can do or say anything else. “Out.”
Mox raises his hand and slowly, ever so slowly, backs out of the room. “Just know I’m coming for that belt again, Hangman, and I’m gonna get it.”
“The first part I already knew, because you’re fucking insufferable, and the second part is a lie.” Adam grabs the door handle and pushes it against Mox until he steps back from the door frame. “Bye.” He pushes the door shut, even as Mox petulantly tries to keep it open, then flips the lock.
“You know,” Matt says, and when Adam turns around he’s just about dressed, “I don’t think that lock is strong enough to hold Mox back if he really wants to get back in here.”
Adam leans backward, putting his full weight against the door. He folds his arms over his chest. “You really think that?”
“Well, not anymore.” Matt puts his hair back up in that infuriating bun again. “So. Productive conversation. I’ll see you next week during your match with Mox?”
Adam blinks. “What?”
“I think a rematch would be a good kickoff,” Matt says. He pulls out his phone and starts texting. “And if we can get Mox behind it, which I bet we will – actually, probably we’ll get him to get it booked the thirtieth. Gives Mox time to be annoying to Tony. Maybe he can convince him. And it gives both of you a little more recovery time.” Matt looks Adam up and down. “You’re gonna need it.”
“I thought you said you had no booking power,” Adam says. Suspicion floods over him. He doesn’t trust Matt, not by a long shot, but there’s a part of him that hoped that this was more than just manipulation.
“I don’t,” Matt says, leaning against the table. “But Mox does. And we definitely just manipulated the hell out of him to want another match. If I tell Tony it was Mox’s idea, that he was harassing me with his Death Rider cronies, it might be enough to get it to work.” He looks at Adam. “You’re right. You deserve to fight more people this time. You deserve the chance to defend the belt.”
Adam wonders, not for the first time in his life, if Matt is a good enough liar to make this feel as real as it does. “You’re serious,” he says.
“Mox is pissed you won,” Matt says. “Honestly, I kind of am too. It proves me wrong about you. But that doesn’t matter. You won, and you’re champion, and you – you deserve it.” He smiles at Adam as he leans against the table, sweet like he wasn’t just begging to be fucked harder a few minutes ago. Adam can’t help a little laugh.
“What?”
“The dichotomy of man,” he sighs. “Yeah. You can talk to Tony. I have a feeling you’re right about the Mox thing.”
Matt scoffs. “I’m right about everything.”
~
Mini Playlist:
Champions - Fall Out Boy
Miss Jackson - Panic! At the Disco, feat. LOLO
No Mercy - PVRIS
One More Night - Maroon 5
