After a long bout with work/health issues/writer's block, Chapter 4 is finally up! Enjoy a slightly longer chapter for your patience.
Set after the events of this match, we find out that there might be trouble in paradise with the RTC. Also Steven and Raven have another...encounter..
TW: Mildly dubious consent, period typical homophobia
Also available on ao3
The Spaces in Between - Chapter 1
The Spaces in Between - Chapter 2
The Spaces in Between - Chapter 3
The Spaces in Between - Chapter 4
“I had him on the ropes!”
“Really? Because it seemed like you were face down on the mat after eating that bulldog!”
Acidic rage bubbled within him as he made his way backstage with his worse for wear comrade. He was so damn darn angry. Angry at Val for breaking rank and challenging Raven to a fight. Angry at Raven for getting the best of him, once again. And most importantly, he was angry at himself for letting himself be pulled back into Raven's orbit, just to be on the receiving end of an Even Flow DDT.
A familiar ache washed over him. The feeling of being hurt by Raven was nostalgic in a twisted sort of way.
But the pain mattered little at the moment. Not when he had an irate Val Venis to deal with.
“I could've handled it, Richards! I did not want or need your assistance.”
The acid continued to bubble up. ‘Could've fooled me.’
“Val, you had no idea what you were up against. Believe me, I know from experience.”
Steven watched as the taller man's jaw tightened, blue eyes narrowing. Shit Shoot.
“And just what kind of experience did you have with that burnout degenerate?”
‘Enough experience thank you very much...’
“That is none of your concern, Venis.”
“I'm just saying, ever since that Axl Rose wannabe came back, you've been off.”
Off? Nonsense. He was completely and totally fine. Didn’t everyone interfere in their exe’s enemy’s matches?
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
“That's bullshit, Richards and you know it!”
‘Don't sell it, Richards. Remember who's in control here.’
“You're questioning me? After everything I've done for this group.”
“I'm simply stating facts. Face it, Richards! You're distracted. And your little distraction ended up costing me my match!”
Before Steven could even retort, Val had stormed off.
Great. Absolutely splendid. This was the last thing they needed right now.
Of all his teammates, Val had been the hardest to win over.
Bull was the easiest to recruit. The big man had made it a point to live up to his namesake. Strong, dependable, not much going on upstairs.
‘A clueless putz.’ The voice in his head supplied.
Recruiting Charles had been his first real challenge. The Godfather embodied everything that was wrong with the WWF. An ostentatious, marijuana-smoking pimp, parading around with his gaggle of whores scantily clad women. The very thought of a man like that switching sides to fight the good fight would have seemed like a miracle.
Until one day, a switch flipped and Charles had showed up at his door, repentant, claiming to have seen the light. Steven was taken aback. He wondered what could have caused such a radical change in the man in just a short window of time. Then he considered his own transformation just months prior.
Perhaps it was a ruse. Perhaps it was a late night epiphany not too dissimilar to his own Regardless, who was Steven to turn away an ally?
Ivory needed no convincing. She practically jumped at the opportunity. The older woman had spent the better part of two decades learning her craft, only to be relegated to slop matches and swimsuit contests. An unbefitting role for such a spirited and underappreciated talent. Together, they could save women’s wrestling.
She was by far the most enthusiastic member of their group. Her fervor for the cause matched only by his own. It brought them together. Of all of his teammates, Ivory was the only one he could possibly consider a friend.
He also had to admit that the woman scared the hell heck out of him.
Then there was Val.
The former porn star had always danced to the beat of his own sick, perverted drum. An exhibitionist, a provocateur, but a fierce competitor who wanted more for himself.
Much like the Godfather, Val couldn’t have been more diametrically opposed to Steven’s vision for the World Wrestling Federation. He’d gone on an entire diatribe about the importance of freedom of speech and how allowing violence and nudity on television was a celebration of the First Amendment and the Constitution itself. How very libertarian of him.
It was an absurd argument that Val himself didn’t believe.
It was clear to Steven that the only person Val was trying to convince was himself. It didn’t take long for Val to come to this realization. Prior to even being on Steven’s radar, the larger man was already undergoing a transformation of his own accord, leaving his old ways behind. All he needed was a little nudge in the right direction.
Still, there was always a level of unease with Val.
The man was too headed and strong willed for his own good. Traits that would make him a valuable asset to their group, but often led to bouts of insubordination. Bouts that had been becoming more frequent in recent weeks.
‘It’s because he sees right through you. He knows what you really are.’ the voice in his head sneered.
“No, that’s not true.” he said to himself.
‘He knows you’re unfit to lead. Face it! You’ve never been a leader, Richards.’ the voice continued to taunt.
“Shut up!” he protested. Did he say that out loud?
‘You couldn’t even lead the bWO. What happened to Meanie and Nova? That’s right! You ditched them and went crawling back to your boyfriend just to follow him to WCW. And when that didn't pan out, you ran away. Some leader you are. You think you have everyone fooled. You think you’re in control. But they all know the truth.’
It was true though.
He was losing control. He could feel it slipping from his fingers. Soon everyone would turn on him. Everyone would see him for what he truly was.
No. This couldn't happen. Not when he had work to do. He needed to complete his mission. He needed to make them see the light. He needed…
An unmistakable flash of red and blonde highlights walked past his peripheral vision. That was…
The source of his troubles.
Raven.
The acid that ran through his veins finally bubbled over. Red hot rage burned throughout his entire body.
‘Red. Like his hair.’
Where did that come from?
Before he could even process anything, his feet began to move on their own accord.
It was enough to get the older man’s attention as he whipped his head around, a surprised but slightly bemused expression donned across his face.
“You!” came out of his mouth a battle cry as he approached his ex nemesis.
He wanted to kiss slap it off of him.
“Me?” Raven mouthed with genuine bewilderment as gestured towards himself.
‘You don’t get to feign innocence. Not after everything you’ve done.’
“This is all your fault!” he hissed. “You’ve ruined everything!”
The weight of those words hung over him like an anvil.
“I take it there’s some trouble in paradise with your Mormon goon squad?”
His body once again moved on its own accord. Before they both knew it, Steven had Raven shoved against the wall.
Even after he’d just been manhandled, Raven’s pierced eyebrow was still raised in a slightly bemused expression. Like he was impressed with Steven’s sudden show of force.
‘Still a smug bastard. I’ll show him’
“You think this is funny, huh?” Steven hissed. “You still think you can play your little mind games on me?!”
“Stevie...”
“Stop calling me that.” he spat through gritted teeth. “I’m not that stupid kid anymore!”
That seemed to elicit some reaction in the older man. The amused expression faded into something unreadable.
They stood frozen in place, nose to nose for what seemed like an eternity. The sound of Steven’s chest heaving, the only thing cutting the silence.
A sigh escaped the older man. Steven could feel the exhale. Raven tried again.
“I didn’t want to hurt you tonight.” he murmured.
He couldn't stop the hoarse, bitter laughter from coming out. Raven didn’t want to hurt him? Raven had done nothing but hurt him.
“It's a little too late for that don't you think?”
“You're right.”
Pardon?
Another sigh escaped the older man. Chocolate brown eyes meeting his own.
“You're right.” he repeated. “It is too late.”
The unfamiliar expression on the older man’s face settled into something that resembled…sincerity?
'No, that can’t be right. This has to be a trap.'
Raven continued.
“I know I hurt you. I was so wrapped up in my own self loathing, I couldn’t see past my own bullshit and I projected that hatred onto you.”
Projection. Someone really did go to therapy.
“It wasn't fair to you.”
Understatement of the century.
“And I know it's too late. But I still want to make it right.”
‘How the hell are you gonna do that?’
He nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt a hand caress his face, forcing him to meet those mesmerizing eyes.
He wanted nothing more than to recoil from the burning touch, to kick the bastard in the shins and run.
But he stood frozen in place. The thread connecting his body and brain had seemingly been severed.
‘This is wrong. This is wrong. Wrong wrong wrong wrong wrong….’
“Stevie..” the older man started. He seemed to believe that if he continued to say that name aloud, he'd summon that stupid kid from his slumber.
‘Jokes on you. He's dead. I killed him.’
Then why did those brown eyes still have such a relentless hold over him?
‘Run run run run run run run.’
His brain's commands fell on deaf ears. Was it warm in here?
“Please, baby,” the older man whispered, "Please come home.”
Baby. One word was all it took to shatter what remained of his psyche.
With his brain and body completely offline, all he could do was accept the lips that tentatively ghosted over his own. So soft, so gentle. As if asking for permission to enter.
This couldn't be real. It had to be a dream. Raven never asked for anything. He just took and took and took whatever he wanted.
‘More more more more more...’
His lips parted on their own accord, allowing the older man to deepen the kiss. Those lips melting away all the tension that he'd been carrying around for weeks.
‘Home. This is home.’
The only thought that currently occupied his cotton candy brain as the other man continued his onslaught.
He could spend the rest of his life in this kiss. How nice it would be to turn his brain off and spend the rest of his days with Raven's lips on his. No pain, no responsibilities. Just warm lips and fuzzy feelings.
‘Home home home home home.’
He could feel the vibrations from the little moans that filled the space between their lips. Were those coming from him?
‘So good so good so good…’
His short-circuiting brain appeared to be stuck on that mantra. It was so good.
Almost too good.
He could feel another hand making its way down…down…down…down on his….
It was suddenly too much. Too much…he needed…he needed….
‘NO!’
Suddenly his brain rebooted and kicked into overdrive, making him painfully aware of his surroundings.
Raven was kissing him and he was kissing him back.
‘Just like that, you've fallen right into his trap. Get it together, Richards! You're really going to let this degenerate corrupt you again?’
He couldn't let this happen. He'd come so far. He refused to throw everything away now.
Raven must have sensed the change within him because suddenly the hand was gone and the kiss was broken.
Once again, they both stood across from one another, frozen like statues as they both came up for air. Concern seemed to be etched into Raven's features.
‘It's a trick. This was all just part of his plan’
“Stevie?” His voice sounded confused and small. So unlike Raven.
White hot bubbling rage suddenly consumed his entire being as he stared at the demon before him with nothing but contempt.
‘I hate you. I hate you. I love you and I hate myself for it. I hate you.’
With all the willpower he could muster, he shoved the other man back into the wall.
“No!” he growled.
“Stevie I…”
“You WHAT?!” he seethed. “You think you can seduce me into submission?! Typical Raven! You haven't changed at all!”
“Stevie, can we please talk about this?”
“No! We're done here. You stay the hell away from me!”
With that, he stormed off, leaving a stunned Raven in his peripheral
Unbeknownst to the both of them, they hadn't been alone.
‘So my suspicions were correct. Richards is a faggot.’
As Val made his way back to the locker room, he couldn’t suppress the smirk across his face.
‘Things are about to get very interesting.’
