A/N: This fic is dedicated to Slashburd and the rampant Twitter-rp's that we always seem to be embroiled in. I'm really digging this pairing right now and the BDSM tendencies that seem to go with it. Not quite sure where this is going, my Matt and Hunter muses are working day and night to put something good together and to learn each others quirks so that it's the best it can possibly be. So now with that out of the way, Enjoy!
Also, I do not own any of the wrestlers, their gimmicks nor am I saying that this is a true representation of their sexual orientation. If you do not like slash or semi-fetishy ideas then don't read. I don't want anyone to leave me a review saying that it's sick, or wrong or whatever. Truth be told there are many more 'freaks' out there than ppl realize. So deal with it. Oh, and have a nice day.
Like a shadow moving through darkness no one paid the dark haired man any attention as he slipped through the milling bodies backstage. The leather band around his neck—loose enough for his fingers to slip under—felt as if it were choking him; constricting his throat until he was gasping to pull lungfuls of air. Dolph and Ryder skirted him as they cast wary eyes, turning their heads back to the other as they conversed while Matt continued to mentally hyperventilate. He couldn't pin point the exact moment when it all spiraled out of control but it had done so—and quickly. His and Adam's relationship had crumbled, amicably but still crumbled. Adam had stated that while he loved Matt, he just wasn't in love with Matt anymore. A more useless line of bullshit Matt couldn't remember but promised just the same that they could still be friends, a sick smile plastered on his face as he watched the one person that he cared for more than anything clap him on the back with a smile then walk away. It wasn't long after that that Matt had found himself in the company of Big Paul, known in the ring as Big Show. At first Matt thought it was joke, after all when a 500 + pound person walked up to you in a purple velveteen pant suit with a cane in one hand a large ridiculous plumed hat on his head what else is there to do but laugh. Turns out that Big Paul wasn't kidding, he had sent a couple his 'boys' to 'coerce' Matt into seeing that the offer wasn't really an offer but a notice of sorts that he had been brought into Big Paul's flesh for hire business.
The churning sea of bodies slowly thinned out until Matt found himself standing in a semi-darkened corridor; his breaths coming in large pants as he clawed at the band, his short nails scraping and tearing in his mad need to get it off. The more he tried however the tighter it seemed to get until Matt swore there black dots swimming in his vision. The sound of footsteps echoing off the walls penetrated Matt's panicked mind and he straightened up quickly; sweat from his freak out shining on his face and dripping down the back of his neck.
"Well, well, well. Look who we have here. The Heart and Soul of SmackDown." Hunter drawled sarcastically as he swaggered into view.
"What do you want?" Matt spat at him.
"Tsk, tsk. Is that anyway to treat Vince McMahon's heir to the WWE throne?" He purred as he moved closer.
"Really? I thought that was Shane's job."
"Well, since the golden boy left the company that leaves only me and Steph. And guess who's going to be doing most of the running."
"Well that'll end up finally killing the company." Matt grumbled under his breath.
"What was that Hardy?"
"Nothing, just stating that your poor business skills are land most of us in TNA sucking Bischoff and Hogan's cock for a place on the roster."
"Matty, such a dirty mouth you have on you." Hunter murmured as he continually moved closer until Matt's back was against the wall. "Do you have any idea what it's like being the son-in-law of Vincent Kennedy McMahon? Hmmmm? Do you know how many boring dinners I have to sit through?" Hunter placed a hand on the wall by Matt's head; dipping his slightly so that the damp tips of his blonde mane tickled Matt's cheeks.
"Can't be no worse than being Matt Hardy." Matt challenged as he edged away, "Do you have any idea what it's like to be in shadows? To be over looked and put in meaningless angles where you know you're not going to get anything out of it."
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you got something from Glenn, didn't you?"
The tone of Hunter's voice was oily—beyond oily—and just the images that it dredged up made Matt shiver. Shakily he swallowed and once more brought his fingers up to the leather strap, although this time it was completely unintentional.
"I don't know what you're talking about. Glenn and I have never done an angle…" Matt trailed off as his fingertips brushed against a raised welt that was bright pink in contrast to the rest of his body.
"Matty, you're forgetting who I'm married to. I can sense BS from three miles away during a windstorm." Hunters topaz eyes took on a predatory gleam as he gracefully glided closer yet again. "And I wasn't talking about what goes on inside of the ring, if you get my drift."
Pictures of Glenn staring down at him as warm red wax splashed onto his bared chest assaulted Matt's mind; his body already responding as if the ghostly memories weren't memories at all but happenings of the here and now. Matt was so preoccupied with his thoughts that he didn't notice Hunter's fingers coming closer until the very tips brushed a lock of hair from his face; tucking it behind his ear as he leered lecherously.
"Ah—ah don't know what you're getting at Hunter." His accent barreled to the forefront as he continued to try to avoid Hunter's all too knowing questions. "No idea at all." Again Matt's fingers found themselves toying with the band, twisting and tugging at it as his chocolate orbs frantically searched for a way out of the awkward situation.
"Is that so country boy?" Hunter brushed Matt's nervous digits away and plucked at the simple collar—there was no doubt in his mind what it was, he had seen too many in his day—revealing what he figured was already there, fresh friction burns from it being pulled tightly and a few flecks of what looked like candle wax. "Then how do you explain the marks Matty? And is that wax?" Hunter picked at the dried area and chewed his bottom lip when it peeled away to reveal blistered flesh.
"Ah was waxing mah car…" Matt swallowed hard; trying to call upon his temper that had seen him through much worse scrapes than the one he was currently in.
"Again with the lies Matty? Who waxes a rental? Besides, I know Glenn loves his candle play. I remember a time he marked up the pretty little brother of yours." Hunter shook his head as if sad, a leer still twisting his lips, "Poor kid, he was Glenn's first candle play partner. Has he gotten any better since then?"
"Ah wouldn't know. Adam wouldn't let m—." Matt clamped his mouth shut, swallowing the rest of his sentence. There was no truth behind him and Adam, they had had their time in the sun and had moved on. Or atleast Adam had anyways, Matt constantly found himself holding onto the tattered edges of that relationship in times where he needed the grounded feeling.
"Awww, Matty are you still clinging to the past like your little brother?" Hunter laughed as pinned Matt to the wall; his large hands falling on either side of Matt's face and caging the uncharacteristically jittery young man in. "I happen to think you two make a cute couple…...you and the freak anyways."
"Don't talk about him like that." Matt snarled suddenly, Glenn was a lot of things but he wasn't a freak like everyone thought. "Besides Adam ain't here to protect himself." He added quickly with a smirk. "If anyone in this company is a freak it's you Hunter. We've all heard that you take it nightly up the ass from Steph. Is that how you keep getting your title shots? Or is it true that you practice your catch-phrase on ole' Vinny Mac?"
"I'd keep my mouth shut if I were you boy or I might just have to shut it for you." Hunter hissed as he leaned in closer until they were nose to nose. "Don't mess with me Hardy boy, or I might have to go to Big Paul and pay for night with you and you have no idea what I can do to you." The words were rumbled in Matt's ear with Hunter's warm breath puffing hard against the shell. "Of course judging by that leather 'round your neck, you might like it." Hunter nipped at Matt's ear lobe, loving the simple power play between them—the rush of pure unadulterated control that he knew he would have over the older Hardy. "Tell me Matthew, when did Big Paul start making his boys wear collars? Or is it just his favorite that gets' to wear one?"
"A-Ah don't know what you're talkin' bout." Matt maintained; placing his hands against Hunter's chest and shoving.
Hunter wrapped his hands in Matt's hair and yanked; practically snapping Matt's neck to the side and wringing a pained gasp from him. With the ebony curls moved to the side more bruises—darker and more painful looking ones—were revealed, not to mention a couple sets of perfect teeth impressions.
"Is that so Matty? Are you sure?" Hunter purred; his fingers loosening in the dark locks and massaging the base of Matt's skull. "Because you'd be my favorite."
Matt shook his head and tried to pull away, anxious to put an end to the situation but the more he tried to get free the closer Hunter seemed to get, reminding him of how a stalking panther circles before leaping and plunging it's sharp fangs into the jugular of it's prey. He pressed his lips together firmly and mustered what he hoped was a convincing glare.
"Ah don't know because Ah don't work for Big Paul. This ain't a collar," Matt tugged on the leather strap twice, "It's nothing more than a leather string around my throat for looks. Y'know like Hawkins and Ryder did when they were the Edgeheads."
Hunter quirked an eyebrow and smirked as Matt fingers continued to play with the band; his nails leaving light scratch marks on the new leather. He was certain that if he slid the collar around there would a 'D' ring on the back where he could clip a leash, but that would come in due time; right now it was all about the chase.
"Well I guess I can see why you wouldn't be Big Paul's' favorite, I mean with Irvine running around it would be pretty tough. Unless of course you and Irvine are both his favorites." Hunter licked his lips and smiled, "I bet that's it, you and Irvine are both his favorites. So tell me Matt, how do you and Chris work out who sleeps with him at night? Hmmmm? Do you draw straws? Does he just command one of you to go, or does have you two fight it out?" His amber eyes glowed as that particular scene worked its way into his mind. "If I were him I'd have you slicked up and naked, wrestling each other to see who wants in my bed bad enough; but then again with two pretty boys like that I'd just take ya both."
"Look Ah'm not Big Paul's favorite, Ah don't even work for Big Paul."
"Bullshit." Hunter breathed as he brushed Matt's fingers away and tugged on the band, pulling Matt towards him. "You seem to forget how quickly rumors fly around back here, when I heard that Big Paul had a Hardy in his stable I was certain that it was your brother; as sweet as he is, Jeff's a little screwed in the head and I could see him falling in with Big Paul's crowd. But then I seen you trailing after Glenn with that pretty collar on your neck…" Hunter twisted the leather between his fingers until it bit into Matt's throat.
Fear and the faintest glimmering of lust rocketed through Matt's eyes, making Hunter grin as he pulled Matt as close as he could; the leather biting deep into Matt's throat forcing him to take shallow breaths in order to get any air at all. The cat and mouse game, as old as time itself never seemed to lose its luster and Matt couldn't help but think that this was one time that being the mouse wasn't a bad thing. He lowered his eyes; forcing his lips together until they were nothing more than a plump line. Sounds filtered down to them, voices raised in revelry and sing-songy in their words. With a smirk Hunter shoved Matt away; laughing as he stumbled and landed hard against the wall, his head striking the cold concrete blocks and making him wince in pain.
"Play your games Hardy, I can wait."
Hunter turned and started to walk way; leaving Matt to think over what had just happened. In the dim hallway Matt came to the conclusion that maybe—just maybe, Hunter and Big Paul knew more about him then he knew himself. With a half growl he pushed away from the wall and once more melted into the sea of bodies; his fingers running over old and new bruises and burns as he tried to find answers within to the questions without.