Note: Not sure where this is going (i.e. chapters etc) Ask Hunter – I just did the typing XD
See, when you ask Hunter for something, well if I can give it, you'll get it. I mean that. To my good friends I'm the most generous person they know. To my lovers, well, they never leave unhappy. I'm just that kinda guy.
I never go looking for trouble, or for fucks as it happens. They just seem to like falling in my lap and hell, I'm not gonna stop 'em if they're willing either way. I've seen my fair share of action with my fists, a little more with my crotch and sometimes, if I'm lucky the two sorta crossover. They're the best ones. The feisty ones who think they're gonna get the better of me. I tell ya, they ain't got a prayer or a clue.
That's the mistake that Hardy kid made when he came running his mouth off to me, telling me to stay away from his brother. Truth is, I never touched Jeff. The kid needed a friend and well, I feel for him and all he's gotten into but he's not my type. He spent a coupla days at my place hiding out and everyone assumed we were getting it on. So the kid goes home and a few days later I get a visit from big bad Matt Hardy.
Now see, that's not going to scare me if some punk ass gets a little too big for his wrestling boots and comes to face off with me. In fact, although its the oldest sorta locker room drama, y'know, I kinda like it. They try and take down the big man to prove a point and its generally me. Yeah, they don't tackle 'Taker cos he's too big but they think I'm fair game. I just tell them to bring it; and yeah, I am that confident in my skills.
I heard a few things about Matt that he thought nobody knew when Jeff was telling me his troubles. They left me feeling that he was struggling to find a way to let his frustration and anger out now Jeff was finding his own way. Maybe that's why he'd picked me, because Jeff trusted me. I don't know. He rocked up to my place, shouting the odds, telling me how he was gonna kick my ass for fucking his baby brother. I just stood there, arms crossed, smiling at him till the little punk burnt his rage out. Sure I probably made him a little worse by smiling all through it but he picked the wrong guy to fight.
Looking back, if he hadn't made the error of getting right up in my face, standing nose to prominent nose, (yeah, have your laughs, you're real funny, I've heard 'em all before) then maybe I wouldn't have grabbed him by the ball chain he had round his neck and started to choke the air outta him. I had to make the kid shut up. That fucking dumb-as-shit hick accent was really getting broad as he shouted and it was giving me ball ache.
Yeah, you heard right, ball ache. You see, those Southern boys are the ones that get a real big rise outta me. Words just drip outta their mouths like syrup off a short stack. And don't judge me, we've all got a weakness. I closed my eyes and laughed as Matt was starting to splutter and all I saw in my mind's eye was the Southern slut that broke my heart and then got the fuck outta Dodge. He was now busy learning to speak French and driving on fucking snowchains in Canada. I don't wanna go into details but I'm sure you can go figure on that one.
I let go of the chain and threw Matt back, landing him squarely on his ass in the dirt of the yard. He'd almost got me to the point I never let myself get to. If it starts flicking my switch I kill it off, you know how the song goes don't you? I'm all about control. Control, pain and dominance.
I never expected him to lunge at me like he did, spearing me in through the door and onto the floor in the hallway. He was pretty quick for his size, fists flying but not making much of an impact other than a coupla handy tags. I wriggled out and kneed him in the guts, stopping him dead just long enough to flip him onto his back and dig my knee into his chest. See, nobody gets on top of Hunter. Nobody.
He made a sight, that's for sure. All blustered out, struggling to catch his breath, dark hair fanned out all over the wood flooring like a pool of ink had gushed out of his head. Dark hair has never done it for me and I've always gone for blondes. Thing is I've learned the hard way that they're too damned flighty and its never worked out. Maybe I should've stood up and just thrown Matt out the door, slammed his ass with it on the way out and thought no more about him. Problem was I looked down at his neck and there was a real pretty welt forming where that chain had dug into his tanned skin. That ball ache surged through me again and I knew I wanted to reach down and drag my nails over the twisted up flesh just to hear him curse at me again in that mellow accent.
His breathing was a bit slower now although I could tell that my knee had really knocked the wind outta him. I thought I'd maybe test the water, knowing now I could take him down real easy if he started brawling again. Slowly I rubbed one hand over his gut while apologising for catching him so rough. I worked my hand in slow circles, making sure to press a little harder where I'd made the most contact with my knee, hearing the gasps coming from between those plump lips.
Once I get a reaction it's a like a moth to a flame with me. Trouble is I keep going till either I get burned or I get a chance to make that candle burn brighter – understand? No, thought not. It was a good job I was knelt with my groin outta his eye level though as things were happening. The feel of his muscles with that layer of bruised and yielding flesh protecting them was all good. Real good.
Pushing my luck a little I pulled his t-shirt up, making some lame excuse about seeing if I'd done any damage. He struggled a little beneath me but I told him to knock it off and let me check him out. Using my free hand to pin his shoulder to the floor I stroked the reddened skin and it was soft and warm to the touch. I wondered if the rest of him felt that good and knew then I'd do my damnedest to find out.
With a glance out of the corner of my eye I saw his face twist up, brow furrowing hard as I pressed down on his gut. I must've caught the sweet spot as his hips jerked and he clamped his lips together a split second too late to stop the mewl escaping into the air. He had a deep blush covering his cheeks. Just what I was hoping for. Little Jeff had told me how his big brother liked to get beat on and had even asked him to do it a few times when they'd had too much to drink. Course, he'd always told Matt where to go, or so he told me.
I smirked at Matt and he looked away, straining his neck to look anywhere but up at me. He muttered under his breath and I didn't quite catch the words. I asked him if he'd got something he wanted to get off his chest, hoping but not expecting that he was gonna ask me not to stop. He ignored me totally and I couldn't help but wonder if it was deliberate. I knew lots of subs who played these kinda games, trying to reel you in without asking for what they want. Matt wasn't going to get the top out of me if he couldn't bottom to me, simple as that. That's how this shit works best.
I unpinned his shoulder and grabbed his face, sinking my fingers into the red hot cheeks, dragging his head around until he faced me. I glared at him, making it quite clear where the power was and always would be. I asked him again what he'd said and his dark eyes seemed to flash almost verdigris as they narrowed. For a moment I could see the spark of his baby brother in there; a sign of the wild side that had tainted their gene pool and turned Jeff into the sweet but tormented fuck-up that he was today.
Finally I saw his lips move and he asked me to let him up in a tone very much like a sulky child. I laughed and shook my head, informing him that if he'd wanted to get up he would've done it by now. Sure, he started to argue but I knew what it would take to get my intentions through his dense country skull. I rubbed my hand down over the straining denim that tugged the buckle of his belt away from his skin and the words turned to stifled growls. My mind raced with the possibilities of what could be.
Finding the head of the shaft was easy, the kid clearly had something to shout about in there which proved that finally, some locker room shit was true. I used two fingers to pinch it through the barrier the jeans provided drawing a groan from those pretty lips. Imagining the pain it caused hitched my breath as it tried to leave my lungs. If I was playing with this kid like I would a normal guy I'd have stripped and ridden him hard until I came deep inside right there. Unlucky for him that the signals were all there that I could push him further.
I think he needed it and I damn sure wanted to give it to him.
Did I think he could take it? Perhaps. Did I care? By that point, no.
A/N: Another fic inspired by the latest spate of Twitter chats that's been going on. Dedicated to Dark Kaneanite's toyboxed Matt/Roadrunner tweets and interjections from the useless dom that is Wrestlefan4's slutty Y2J XD. All comments appreciated. Again, its meant to sound in character but please bear in mind its Hunter and he's not got a massive amount to work with – apart from nose-wise and maybe in his trunks. I've not got that far yet XD