Charlotte NC
Judgement Day
I don’t even know why we’re here, neither of us has a match. Oh wait, now I remember. We’re here because Matty lives and breathes our business and where Matt goes, I’m sure to follow. So here we are.
It’s pathetic, really, my inability to say no to my brother. Vince asked me to come first, said it’d show I was a team player. I said no and meant to keep saying no. Then Jay asked, he’s winning the IC title tonight and wanted me here to celebrate with him and the rest of the crew. I said no and meant to keep saying no. Then Matty asked. Tilted his head and smiled that sweet smile and me and asked if I’d come with him.
I really need to learn how to say no to him.
So here I am, slouched down on a couch in one of the empty dressing rooms, watching the monitor in the corner, really just wanting to be anywhere but here. Matty’s off with Jay and Chris, planning their big “End of the Battle Royal” bit. Figures, I follow him here and he takes off.
Not really interested in the Piper/Hogan/O’Haire/disabled kid match, I glance around, spotting Matt backpack on the floor. Maybe he’s got a book or something in there. Grabbing the bag, I slide the zipper open, peering inside. The first thing my rummaging fingers grab is a t-shirt. One of his V-1 t-shirts.
I pull it out looking down at it. It’s soft, worn, his favorite one, though why it’s his favorite is beyond me, it’s no different from the thousands of others, but he insists it’s lucky and never wears any other to the ring. With an almost guilty glance at the door, I lift the fabric to my face, inhaling deeply.
His scent envelopes me, filling my senses, spicy and slightly sweet, warm and just lovely. Without a second thought, I whip my own white tank off and slip his shirt over my head. It’s pleasantly big on me, Matt’s bulkier and has wider shoulders, and I smile to myself as I snuggle inside it a bit, leaning back with a sigh.
The smile fades as I sit here wrapped in his shirt, his scent. Me and Matty, we’ve been tiptoeing around this attraction thing for a while now. You want to talk sexual tension of the unresolved variety, we’ve got it in spades. As far back as I can remember, it’s been there. Looks, hugs that hold a second too long, kisses planted in excitement then snatched away from in surprise, loaded silences fraught with unspoken, unacknowledged something’s…it’s love, of the decidedly un-brotherly kind. And while I’ve accepted the truth of that, matt hasn’t. I’m beginning to think he never will.
Of course, it’s understandable…incest is, after all, one of the few remaining sexual taboos. Disgusting, vile, immoral, wrong…but god it feels so right to love him and I can only fathom the perfection it would be to have him love me back. I sigh, bringing the collar of the shirt up over my nose and inhaling again, eyes closing as I imagine my nose is buried in his warm neck and not a piece of cotton.
“That’s my shirt.” Spoken softly.
My eyes snap open to find Matt standing in the doorway, watching me with a quizzical look on his face. I tug the collar back down, trying not to look as guilty as I feel, having been caught quite obviously sniffing his shirt.
I nod. “Yeah. Sorry…” I start to pull it off.
“No…leave it on.” His voice is soft and my eyes meet his as I let the shirt drop back into place. Then he smiles and my heart stutters dangerously at how beautiful he is when he smiles. “It looks good on you.”
You’d look better on me. Over me. Under me. Inside me. I’m not picky at this point. And here’s another of those looks I was talking about, eyes locked, saying nothing but speaking volumes, awareness sizzling between us.
Then the moment is gone as he smiles wider. “Come on, show’s almost over and we’re all gonna go get some White Z and celebrate Jay’s win.”
And so once again I am following where he leads. I really should learn how to say no to him…except when he smiles at me like that I forget why I’d ever want to say no to him.
I’d follow him anywhere when smiles at me like that.
May 19th, 2003, 6 a.m.
Room 229, Hyatt
Charlotte NC
Oh yawn!…that ‘little’ celebration last night went way long! It’s been a while since we were all in the same place at the same time and the White Z was flowing good last night!
I prop myself up on my elbows, peering around the room. I gotta grin. It’s like some kind of pornographic slumber party. Adam and Jay are tangled together on the couch, Chris and I in one bed, Brian and Shane curled together on the floor between the beds, and Matt and Jeff…wait. Where’s Jeff?
I scan the room again and finally notice the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. Oh yum, I gotta just stop and savor the lovely images that brings to mind. Hey, me and Chris aren’t exclusive, ya know. Not that it matters, though. Because Jeff is so taken it isn’t even funny. Even if Matt hasn’t taken ownership just yet.
Oh, I know most people would be revolted at the very thought of brothers as lovers. I’m not most people. Plus I have the added advantage of knowing Matt and Jeff better than anyone on the planet. And they’re so perfect for each other it’s ridiculous. I don’t know what cruel twist of fate decided to make them brothers. I guess the gods have an appreciation for irony.
And while probably 90% of the population would condemn and exile Matt and Jeff, if and when they finally do get together, I can pretty much guarantee that most of the locker room won’t give a damn. Oh there’s a few who may raise a stink, but for the most part the boys are a bunch of kinky ass guys anyway, and kinks don’t tend to discriminate against fellow kinks.
Take Chris, for example. Most people would never guess it, but my Chrissy is 100% sub. LIVES to be tied up, called a dirty little whore and be spanked while taking it hard and fast in that gorgeous ass.
Of course, most people would also never guess that I’m the dom in our little relationship. I guess they think maybe I’m too small, too babyface, too pretty to be a sadistic bastard when Chris needs me to be. Most people would be wrong.
So yeah, I don’t think many of the boys would blink an eye if Matt and Jeff were to show up one day, holding hands and making out like teenagers. Hell, most of us would welcome it, if only to put an end to the insane amount of UST between em.
Just then the bathroom door opens and my eyes go wide. Jeff. Jeff naked. Jeff naked and wet. Jeff naked and wet with nothing but an indecently tiny towel wrapped around his hips. My god in heaven.
He doesn’t notice I’m awake, stepping softly to the other bed where Matt lay on his stomach, pillow pulled under his head, midnight curls spread on the rumpled linen. Jeff stands over the bed for a long moment, staring down at his brother, eyes hot and heavy on the sleeping figure burrowed under the sheets. I can almost * see * his need to touch, elegant fingers curling and uncurling at his sides.
Then, with a low curse and shake of his head, Jeff climbs into the bed, facing away from Matt, stiffly pulling the sheet up over his own hips. My heart clenches a little. Something’s gotta give eventually, and I hope it’s soon.
And though I can see that Matt’s still sound asleep, he mumbles a bit, shifts, and snuggles against Jeff’s back, slipping an arm around Jeff’s waist. I have to smile at that. At least in sleep Matt can act on what he feels. Now, if only he’d start acting while he’s awake.
May 20th, 2003
Hopewell, SC
Shell, I-95 S
Oh. My. God.
Now * there * is a perfectly gorgeous hunk of man, right there. Strolling through the door with an easy, unconsciously graceful stride, as if he either doesn’t know or doesn’t care how breathtakingly sexy he is. Wow.
I watch as he pauses to examine a rack of magazines a few feet away from the counter I stand behind. I don’t even care that I’m staring, drinking him in. They don’t grow em like this one around here, that’s for sure.
6 foot, easy, he’s of the lean, elegantly-muscled variety. Vibrant blue and purple hair spills in a lovely tangle from the back of a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes. I don’t really know what to call his facial hair, it’s not a beard or a goatee, but oddly compelling nonetheless, thin stripes along his jaw and under his chin, a single strip of blonde beneath his lower lip.
Oh, and what a lower lip. That’s an all day sucker.
He’s wearing a sky-blue running suit that, I kid you not, looks like velour. It should be hideous. Probably would be were it not on him. Instead it looks incredibly hot. The pants riding low on lean, narrow hips, the hoodie unzipped and, god help me, he’s shirtless under there. Incredible chest dusted with fine, golden hairs (I guess purple’s not his natural color?), sleek belly with just a hint of soft that lends him a sense of reality, with a sparkling silver and aquamarine bar winking from the hollow of his navel.
Bless me, Father, for I have sinned.
He pulls a magazine from the rack and turns in my direction. I try to gather my wits as he approaches, swallowing hard.
He sets the magazine on the counter, then his lashes lift and I’m staring into the most gorgeous pure emerald eyes I’ve ever seen. So what if there’s eyeliner around them. And blue polish on his nails…hmmm.
I manage to scan the magazine without incident, pushing it back towards him. “Is that all?” Wow, good job, girl, that came out almost normal sounding!
“Yeah, and $25 on number 8.” Oh good lord, that’s a Carolina accent. I guess they do grow em like him around here. Now, where can I get one of my own?
Just as I’m punching in the gas, the door swings open and I glance up and…dear lord. Here’s another, equally beautiful, this one dark with chocolate eyes and broader shoulders and a sparkling smile for the green-eyed god. To say I’m tempted to leap the counter, lock the door and have my way with em is an understatement. What’s the going prison term for kidnapping and sexual assault, anyway?
“Jeez, Jeff, could you take any longer? Again with the Carolina accent. Not as smooth and honeyed as the other, but no less charming for it.
Jeff grins back and I swear I’m gonna die right here and now from the eye-candy overload of these two beauties. “Check it out, Matt!” Holding up his magazine. “New PWI! There’s supposed to be a really snarky article about Chris in here.” His grin turns mischievous. “Thought he’d like to have it wallpapering his locker tomorrow night.”
Matt shakes his head. “You are so bad.” Chuckling lightly.
Jeff grins and blows a kiss his way. “You love me for it.”
Well, then. The wide-eyed, startled look at the use of the word ‘love’ is a mite confusing. Because, though it’s pretty obvious they were just bantering back and forth, suddenly Jeff’s looking like he just cussed in church and Matt’s looking like a deer caught in headlights.
And before I can even try and figure out what’s going on, Matt turns and heads back outside, Jeff grabs his magazine and his change, mumbles thanks, then follows the other out the door.
Leaving me feeling somewhat like a whirlwind just blew through. Slightly disoriented, startled, but also exhilarated, breathless, heart racing and mind whirling as I watch through the window as their car disappears into the darkness.
At least I’ll actually have a story to tell when my roommate asks if anything interesting happened at work tonight. Interesting indeed.
May 21st, 2003
Greensboro SC
Backstage, house show
I wait until Hunter’s on his way to the ring before smiling to myself and leaving our dressing room to make my way down the hall, knowing exactly which door I’m looking for.
With a quick glance around to make sure no one’s watching, I ease open the door and slip inside, shutting it behind me with a soft click.
The main room is empty save for a silver sling bag on the couch, and for a second I’m afraid I might have missed him. Maybe he left right after his match?
Then, from the bathroom, I hear him. “Matty? That you?”
I shiver at the sound of his silky, thick accent wrapped around the low timbre of his voice. I smile, leaning back against the door. “No. Not even close.”
In the next instant his head pops around the corner, jade eyes wide, hair damp and slicked back to provide an unobstructed view of his beautiful face. A frown creases his brow as he steps out of the bathroom wearing only, dear lord, a pair of snug black boxer-briefs. “What’s up, Steph? Is something wrong?” Seemingly unaware of what his state of undress is doing to my body temperature. Well, let’s just fill him in, shall we?
“You could say that, I suppose.” I lower my voice seductively, smiling slowly and tilting my head. Men love that, never fails.
Jeff’s eyes widen a bit. “Is it Matt? Is he ok?” His voice slightly panicked.
Excuse me?! I’m seducing you here, and you’re worried about your * brother *? Hello!! I can’t believe this, now he’s jerking on a pair of his in-ring cargo jeans, looking more frantic. Oh, wait, that’s probably because I never answered his question. Crossing the room, I catch his arm, trying not to shiver at the feel of the sleek, graceful muscles there, not all bulging and overdone like Hunter’s. “No, no, Matt’s fine, Jeff.”
He pauses midway through zipping up his jeans, eyes locked on mine. “He is? Oh.” A deep sigh of relief, then the slight frown returns. “Then what’s the matter?”
I let my teeth nibble my lower lip, gazing up at him and, as my hand begins to stoke his arm, I see the light bulb go on. I smile, letting my hand slip up over his shoulder and then slink lightly down his chest. “You know, Jeff…we really should get to know each other better…” He gulps and I smile triumphantly. It’s good to be the princess.
Then, suddenly, the door swings open and Matt bursts in. “Hey Jeff, come on, I was thinkin’ we could…” His voice trails off as he takes in the scene, my hand on Jeff’s chest, Jeff’s jeans conveniently undone…a compromising situation to say the least. If a bit misleading.
I scowl at the intrusion, narrowing my eyes on matt. “Could you excuse us, Matthew, Jeff and I were just discussing some business.” Purposely leaving my hand on Jeff’s chest. Wow, his heart is really racing.
Matt blinks, then his lips press together, eyes darting between me and Jeff, his expression hardening. “Sure. Fine. No problem.” Words sharp and snapping. He sounds jealous. I smile to myself…I had no idea Matt had a thing for me. Perhaps he’d care to join us…
Suddenly, Jeff pulls away, snatching up his bag as he backs towards the door, and Matt. “Yeah, um, Steph we’ll hafta discuss this later, k? I, um, I gotta go…” Darting past Matt and into the hallway.
Just as Matt’s following, he turns his head to stare at me and there’s…is that warning in his eyes? The door falls shut behind him and I gape around the empty room, mind whirling to put the pieces together and suddenly…oh my god.
That was a silent warning Matt threw me alright. A warning to stay away from what’s his. Oh my god.
May 22nd, 2003
Titan Towers gym
You know, I’m gonna hafta talk to Vince about getting the gym to myself. If I hafta watch these fucking fairies making out while I try and work out, I’m gonna fuckin’ puke. I mean, Christ, look at em.
That pretty boy Copeland is standing back against the wall by the dumbbells, his little girlfriend Christian leaning in on him, one hand toying with his hair as they smile all sexy at each other. Ugh.
Jericho and that little Moore-on Shannon aren’t much better, Chris pretending to spot Shannon on the bench press when really all he’s doing is flaunting the raging hard on he’s got in Shannon’s face.
And the Hardyz…I feel my fists clench. Those two are the fucking worst. Fuckin’ brothers, man, and so damn blatant about what they’re doin’ behind closed doors. Oh, they’ll deny it to the last, but Steph told be all about walkin’ in on em last night at the show and how they were in the shower together, prolly whackin’ each other off from all the moaning she said she heard.
Fucking disgusting.
Matt’s doin’ squats and Jeff’s on a treadmill, watchin’. Practically drooling staring at Matt’s ass. Jesus. And Matt’s doing his fair share of ogling, every few seconds his eyes’ll flick to the mirrored wall in front of him and stare at Jeff. At one point, Matt goes completely still and his mouth kinds drops open when Jeff lifts the hem of the black muscle shirt he’s wearing and wipes sweat from his forehead. Matt just starin’ at Jeff’s naked chest and stomach like he wants to eat him for dinner.
Next thing you know, Jeff’s stepping off the treadmill, pulling his shirt completely off and walks over to Matt. Not walks really…he fucking slinks. He’d put a streetwalker to shame with the amount of sex oozing out of him as he approaches his brother. Disgusting, but for some reason I can’t seem to look away. It’s like an accident on the freeway, you don’t really wanna look, but can’t help it.
Matt sees him coming in the mirror and stills, watching Jeff approach, his dark eyes trailing down Jeff’s bare torso to his black workout pants, riding low on his hips like every pair of pants Jeff owns. I swear he need to buy some that fucking fit, not all of us get off on seeing his hipbones.
Matt, however, apparently does, cuz he licks his lips and lets the barbell drop, turning slowly to look up at Jeff, who’s now standing not five inches from him, talk about lack of personal space. But Matt doesn’t seem to mind, not saying a word, just staring up at Jeff like some kind of dazed woodland animal in a Disney film, all doe-eyed and soft looking.
Then Jeff kind of smiles and tilts his head…hey! I know that move! That’s the move Steph uses to let me know she’s horny but either can’t or won’t say so out loud! Oh ewww…I’m so never gonna be able to enjoy when Steph does that now.
And then Jeff’s takin’ Matt’s hand and leading him off towards the locker room and, probably, the showers.
Yeah, I’m gonna hafta talk to Vince about getting the gym to myself.
May 23rd, 2003
1-95 S
Somewhere outside Miami
I can’t believe I let yesterday happen. Oh god, I’m so gonna burn in hell. I just let Jeff lead me into the shower stall, let him drop to his knees, let him do things to me with his mouth that no woman has EVER been able to do.
I mean, at least I stopped it before it went too far. Ha, like shooting my load all over my brother’s beautiful face * isn’t * too far. I’m splitting hairs if I think that not actually fucking him makes yesterday less of a sin.
But god…I can’t recall anything ever feeling more right than staring into his gorgeous green eyes when I came. Than hearing him whisper how much he loves me as he held me in the weak after throes of that min-bending orgasm. It felt so right it hurt.
Instead, I hurt him. I yelled at him, “What the fuck are you doing Jeff?! We’re brothers!” and pushed him away, running out of the shower without a backward glance. But I know if I * had * looked back, I would have seen his tears. Because what happened yesterday wasn’t his fault, I know that, it wasn’t anybody’s fault, really.
It’s been coming for a very long time. But now that it’s actually here…I’m so fucking scared. Part of me hates that we’re brothers because it means loving him this way is wrong. Another part of me wouldn’t trade having Jeff as my brother for anything, even if it means we burn in hell for how we feel.
I mean, god, he’s the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Brilliant, quirky, funny, gifted, caring, sweet, sarcastic, charming, opinionated, beautiful…how can anyone expect me to have a person like him and love with me and turn him and his bright, beautiful heart away because of a little thing like blood?
I glance over at him where he’s dozing against the passenger door of the car. He looks so innocent when he sleeps, the permanent scowl between his brows softened, his lips parted slightly, hair a soft tangle across his cheek. I let my gaze travel lower, to his chest where it rises and falls with his even breaths, clad in a thin white wife-beater that stretches snugly over sleek, sinuous muscles that, even at rest, hint at the power in him.
Faded, baggy blue jeans cover long legs he’s curled beneath him, the knees having long ago given out and showing a small bruise marring perfect, golden flesh just below his kneecap. I feel the insane urge to kiss that mark, as if I can heal every pain he’s ever felt.
Except I’m the one causing him pain now. The faint shadows beneath his eyes I know are because of me, because he spent the better part of last night curled in his bed, crying softly. Because of me.
And suddenly I feel like the biggest fool to ever walk the earth. Some people spend their whole lives and never find the one person who is their perfect match. I had my placed in my arms when I was 3 years old, that beautiful, wiggling bundle with enormous emerald eyes and a smile to light up the sky.
He’s my perfect match, my other half, my separated self. And it’s time he knew it.
May 24th 2003
Room 1703, Red Roof Inn
Orlando, FL.
I’m awakened by the sound of knocking and groan slightly, snuggling deeper into Adam’s chest. I’m just about back to sleep when there’s another knock, louder this time.
I lift my head a bit and see Jeff climbing out of the other bed, a sheet wrapped around him as he pads to the door. I still don’t know why he’s rooming with us tonight, he just said he couldn’t stay with Matt and wouldn’t elaborate.
Peering through the peephole, Jeff pulls back sharply, staring at the door, then the floor, then back to the door. I’m just about to ask him who it is when he reaches a hand out from beneath his sheet and unlocks the door, then turns away and walks back to sit on the foot of the bed, staring at the floor.
The door opens and Matt steps in. Ohhh…oh man, and I have the feeling I’m about to eavesdrop on the most important moment of their lives. Not that I have a choice, I can’t announce that I’m awake, because then they might not do what I think they’re about to do and they * so * need to do it. So I settle my chin in the crook of my still-sleeping Adam’s neck and watch silently, heart in my throat.
Jeff still isn’t looking at Matt, who’s now standing over him, looking down at him huddled under the sheet with a very soft look on his face. Matt hardly ever looks soft…except when he’s looking at his brother, then he just melts.
His voice is barely audible when he speaks. “Jeff…I’m sorry.”
Jeff kinda shrugs, tugging the sheet tighter around his shoulders. “Okay.” God, his voice is all thin and sad sounding.
Matt hears the note of pain in Jeff’s voice as well, and flinches a little. He swallows hard, looks away, then back down at Jeff, who has yet to lift his head and look at his brother. “Come on, darlin’, I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was…I was scared, ok?” A long pause. “I love you, Jeff.”
Jeff nods slightly. “I know.” Still with that heartbreaking sadness.
Matt crouches down so he can look up into Jeff’s eyes and lifts one hand to gently cup his cheek. “No, Jeff…I * love * you.” Looking like he doesn’t know whether he should laugh or cry.
Jeff…oh my, Jeff’s eyes get all kinds of wide, blinking rapidly, lips parting in a surprised little ‘o’.
Matt smiles, his thumb brushing gently along Jeff’s jaw. “I shoulda said that yesterday… but I hope you still want it.” He brushes back the soft tangle of Jeff’s hair, his face taking of a beautifully fierce look. “God, I love you, Jeff. So much.”
I can hardly breathe, tears misting my own eyes…I don’t know that I’ve ever witnessed anything as beautiful as this moment. Then Jeff grins that blinding grin of his and leans down to capture Matt’s lips with his own and I release the breath I’d been holding…oh my god, they finally did it!! I half want to wake Adam up to share this with somebody, but don’t. It’s bad enough I’m witnessing it, when it should be only their moment.
It’s when they slide to the floor in a tangle of clinging lips and grasping hands and hotel sheet that I lay my head back down against Adam’s warm throat and close my eyes, determined not to spy on * that *.
I can’t help but hear, thought, and from what I heard, Matt, Jeff and “Oh GOD!” had a really good time.
May 25th 2003
New Orleans, LA
Catering, Heat taping
I need to do something about Hunter. Somehow he’s gotten the idea that simply because my daughter had the bad judgment to choose him as her little over-developed pet that I’m going to give him anything he wants. The belt’s one thing, he can keep the damn thing so long as it shuts him up, but lately the title doesn’t seem to be enough. I think it’s time he dropped that belt…and clean for once. That should show him that while Steph might cater to his every whim, I’m not the catering type, unless it benefits me.
Take this morning. Had the balls to come traipsing into my office and demanded to be given private time in the gym at Titan Towers because, and I quote, “Watching the fairies while I work out is making me sick!” Like I give a shit, you pompous ass. Then starts going on and on about every homosexual couple in the WWE…let me just say that for a guy who claims to be disgusted by it, he sure does pay a lot of attention to who’s dating who.
One mention did catch my ear though, and that’s who I’m observing right now. Matt and Jeff Hardy. Hunter made some comment about Steph walking in on them once and something or other about them making out in the gym he other day. I don’t know if I believe him, which is why I’m sitting here in catering watching them across the room.
Matt’s sitting at a table, watching Jeff, who’s filling a couple plates from the buffet. Nothing too unusual about that except...hmm. Matt’s gaze seems pretty focused on the black thong that’s peeking above the waist of Jeff’s low riding white pants, the ones with the zebra pockets. I will agree with Hunter on one thing…the kid either needs pants that fits or more belts.
And I really should have a talk with Jeff about wearing a shirt for more than 3 seconds at a time. I know he owns shirts, plenty of em, in fact there’s a neon pink mesh one hanging from his back pocket as we speak. Probably aiding in the low riding of the pants. The kid’s always got a shirt in his pocket or slung over his shoulder or tied around his waist, but very rarely is it actually on his person as it was designed to be. Tends to be distracting to others.
Like poor Stacy Kiebler who just tripped over a chair staring at Jeff. That happens a lot when he’s around, and not just to Stacy.
But back to the brothers. Jeff strolls back to their table, setting one plate in front of Matt and affectionately kissing the top of his head before sitting down. Nothing out of place there, those two have always been very physical in expressing their affections, and after the initial shock, we all kinda got used to it. The Hardyz are just like that. Of course, the first time they kissed each other full on the mouth at a pay per view, it was a little out there. And we did have to have a little talk about how that could be misconstrued by the fans.
Still, I never thought it was anything more than two exceptionally close brothers, and watching them now, laughing and talking and grinning at each other, I suddenly realize I don’t care if there’s more. And I certainly don’t care if it makes Hunter uncomfortable.
In fact, I smirk as I get up to go back to my office, I’d almost pay them to go make out in his dressing room * just * to see the pompous prick get all bent outta shape.
Heh. Yeah, I’d pay to see that.
May 26th 2003, 11 pm
Pool, Hyatt
Mobile, AL
God, sometimes Shane makes me so mad! I’m so over this little possessive thing he has going. Like, I wasn’t even talking to that security guy backstage, but all Shane wants to do is argue about it, wanting to know who he was. Hello, I don’t know who the heck he was, just cuz he smiled at me doesn’t mean anything! Try telling Shane that though.
It’s always something with him, and I’m getting tired of it. Got real tired of it tonight, which is why I’m sitting here by the hotel pool instead of up in our room. Had to get away from him before I said something I might regret.
I know why he’s insecure, though. Two reasons actually, both centering around Jeff Hardy. Number one is that Shane has been in love with Jeff since they met back when Jeff was just 16. Oh, Shane’s convinced himself he doesn’t love Jeff anymore, but I think he does. And I think I remind him of Jeff, which is a double-edged sword for both of us. Shane wants me so intensely I think because I remind him of Jeff back then, but at the same time he’s so insecure because Jeff chose someone else and he thinks I will too.
And being around Matt and Jeff the past few days, since they’ve made their relationship official, isn’t helping. Myself, I find it outrageously romantic, those two. I mean, I mighta only been with the company for a few months, but even before, watching them on TV, I always kinda suspected there might be more to their relationship. Matt and Jeff just spark around each other.
Speaking of…look who’s sneaking through the gate like a couple of teenagers out past curfew. Jeff holding Matt’s hand and pulling him towards the Jacuzzi that’s over in the shadows. And much as I adore both of em, Matt gets no more than a cursory glance before all attention is on Jeff in that swimsuit.
It’s no wonder Shane’s still wrapped up over the guy. Anybody with a pulse would be. He’s fucking beautiful. If I thought I stood half a chance I might try and seduce him myself.
Of course, all ya gotta do is look at him with his brother to know that he’s completely unattainable. Doesn’t mean I can’t ogle. And there’s much to ogle when it comes to Jeff Hardy.
I watch as Jeff backs into the Jacuzzi to his waist, smiling at Matt, who’s not budging from his spot standing on the edge, shaking his head. Jeff grins up at him and says something I don’t catch, but Matt’s grinning back, still shaking his head.
Then...oh lord. Jeff steps up half out of the water and his swimsuit is riding dangerously low, weighted down by water, very, very close to giving me a hell of a view. Matt’s eyes drag down Jeff’s bare torso to where the waistband of his trunks is just barely hanging onto the thread of decency, and Matt’s eyes widen, then narrow.
And yup, Jeff’s getting his way and Matt’s joining him in the hot tub, catching Jeff around the waist and pushing him back against the far edge, kissing him as they sink down to the underwater bench, Matt straddling Jeff’s hips, cupping his face in his hands. Wow.
I’m just gonna sneak out of here before they notice…though, really, I think a UFO could land and they wouldn’t pay any attention at all.
May 27th, 2003
Cameron, NC
Joe’s Sherbet Shack
I always said that Jeff Hardy, he’s a strange one. Good kid, but strange. I remember when him and Matt was just little ‘uns, Ruby and Gilbert would bring em by Sundays after church for a little treat if they’d behaved in service. Even then, that Jeff Hardy was one of a kind. Always wanting some kind of special order, strawberry and Rocky Road combined, or a root beer float with 7-up instead of root beer. I always got a kick outta seein’ what the little imp would come up with. Matt, he wasn’t ever no trouble, always got the same thing, chocolate ice cream in a bowl with two cherries.
Him and Jeff are about as opposite as they come, but I never seen two brothers closer, I guess their differences compliment each other. Matt’s the voice of reason because Jeff, I think, was born without one, and Jeff is the impulsiveness that Matt, always a black and white thinker, doesn’t have.
Some things never change. They still come in here whenever they’re home. Sittin’ over at the end of the counter, Matt with his chocolate and two cherries, Jeff with a disgusting combination of mango sherbet and cookie dough. Another thing that never changes is Jeff’s clothes.
Now, I don’t pretend to know what the kids these days say is in, but I always though Jeff musta missed the memo on that. Got his own style, that one and, while I don’t understand half what he wears, ya gotta admire his individuality, if nothin’ else.
Like today, for instance. While Matt’s looking perfectly ordinary in plain ol’ jeans and t-shirt, Jeff’s got this shirt that looks like he just joined the merchant marines, black and white striped, a pair of shiny, silvery baggy pants, those big clunky boots he likes so much, and his hair this week is blue and green. Like I said, ya gotta admire his individuality, if nothin’ else.
Still, I think I’d probably worry if he were to show up one day with ordinary blonde hair wearin’ a suit or somethin’. Jeff’s Jeff, and we all love him even if we don’t always understand him. Hell, I even got me a few of his tinfoil things sittin’ proudly behind the counter, autographed and everything.
Those two boys have made this town as proud as can be. I mean, how many folks you know get as famous and rich as the Hardy boys and don’t get themselves a big ol’ head for their trouble? And still live in the little backwoods town they was born in? Not many, I’ll tell you what.
I’ve watched these two grow up and now, watchin’ em jokin’ around and Jeff’s stealin’ Matt’s cherries, I gotta say I’m right pleased with how they turned out. Right pleased.
May 28th 2003
New Jersey
Devil’s stadium
If it kills me, I’m gonna make the Hardyz hockey fans. It just might, too. I’m actually shocked I managed to get them outta the bedroom long enough for a little trip up the Shore to catch the Devil’s game with me and Jay. To be fair, Matt’s startin’ to come around and I’m pretty sure it’s him to thank for them being here. I’m pretty sure Jeff would’ve rather stayed home, but he’s a sucker for Matt and here he is, watching a game he doesn’t understand or even like, wearing a hockey jersey for a team he isn’t a fan of…all because he has the inability to say no to his brother.
Fuckin’ cracks me up. He’s so whipped. Lucky for him I don’t think matt’s aware of the power he has, but man, once Matt does realize it, Jeff’s gonna be done for. Again, fuckin’ cracks me up.
Although, in all honesty, Matt’s just as bad. All it takes is Jeff batting those pretty eyes at him and Mattitude becomes mush. I feel his pain, though, cuz Jay has the same power over me. Just a tilt of his head and a blink of those silvery blue eyes and it’s all I can do to remember my own name. I love that man just all to pieces.
Funny thing is, you’d think with everything Matt and I have in common that we’d be tighter than me and Jeff. After all, me and Matt are both the ‘responsible’ ones of our pairings, in as much as we’re the ones making the reservations and making sure out slightly flighty significant others get to the airport on time and remember to eat on a regular basis, little stuff like that. We’re both far more obsessed with our business that Jeff or Jay, we’re both older, and we’re…well, we’re both slightly less exciting than our partners. Jay and Jeff are like pretty little hummingbirds flitting here and there, never sitting still for long, both so bright and practically sparkling with enthusiasm.
Oh, I mean, Jeff’s a laid-back as they come, but that’s mostly a wall he puts up around folks he doesn’t feel that comfortable with, which is a lot of people. But inside he’s just vibrating with restless energy, and the few people he trusts enough to let his guard down around, I count myself lucky to be one of those few, see a whole other side of Jeff.
Gone is the quiet, soft-spoke, easy-going Jeff that the world sees and out comes the Jeff that sings along with N’Sync in the car at full blast, who’ll spend a good 15 minutes with his finger an inch from your face just to see you snap, who has the odd ritual of testing hotel mattresses by jumping up and down on them. He’s exuberant and energy and just fizzing over with spark and curiosity. I died laughing the first time he used the word Jeffervescence…it’s the *perfect * word to describe him, at least the him that he lets his loved ones see.
Matt’s good for him, grounds him, anchors him in a world that I think a lot of times is a very confusing and bewildering place for Jeff. And Jeff’s good for Matt, dragging him kicking and screaming out of his shell, showing him the little joys of the world that Matt would probably miss because he’s so caught up in work and finances and the mundane. I don’t think there’s another two people on the planet more perfect for each other.
I glance over and catch silvery blue eyes blinking up at me, golden head tilted to one side…well, maybe * two * more people equally perfect for each other.
What’s my name again?
May 29th 2003
Las Vegas, NV
RA, Luxor Casino Resort
That right there is the reason I love my job. Fucking gorgeous little piece strolling up to the bar looking like one of my favorite wet dreams come to life. Yup, working the bar at the hottest club in Vegas has some * serious * perks. Like this hottie right here.
All 6’2” of pure seduction, colorful blue and green hair tumbling in a tangle around his shoulders, elvin nose, high cheekbones, startling green eyes and lashes to die for. A body just made for sin, this one. And all wrapped up in a outfit that gives me the worst hard on of the night.
White, snug, see-through shirt just clinging to every curve and valley of his perfect toned chest and abs, sleeves hugging sleek arms, little loops over long, elegant fingers who’s nails are painted jet black. Black leather pants I think he must have had to pour himself into and my god, that ass is just edible. A sexy dusting of glitter on his cheeks and the hollow of his throat. A wet dream, plain and simple. I’m in love.
“What can I get ya, gorgeous?” Giving him my best flirty smile as I lean forward across the bar.
He grins back and I think my heart skips a few beats. Jesus H Christ on a pogo stick. “Two white wines.”
Two. Hmmm. I so hope he’s ordering for a very platonic friend. “You got it.” Ignoring the other customers waiting to be served, I pour two glasses of our best white wine and set them on the bar, smiling at him. “On me, darlin.”
He blinks then grins again. “Thanks.”
I lean my arms on the edge of the bar. “You visiting Vegas?” Cuz if you live here I’m gonna be thanking every god ever named.
He nods. “Yeah, just in town until Sunday.” Damn. Still, that’s 3 days. I could do a lot to that body in 3 days.
“First time here?”
He shakes his head. “Nah, been a while, though.” I
think just his sweet southern accent could make me
come. I’m so in love.
I grin again and wink. “Well, maybe you need a tour guide while you’re here.” Or forever, whichever.
He flushes a little, how fucking cute is that, lashes lowering and smiling. Holy Christ, the demure southern belle thing is sexier than anything I’ve ever seen. I want to keep him, can I please keep him?
Then, from out of nowhere, there’s a second wet dream sliding his arm around my first wet dream and hell, looks like this one isn’t the sharing type, from the meaningful look he gives me as he leans in and brushes a kiss on the other’s cheek.
Aw hell, I know when I’m out of my league, no way could I compete with this one. And my green-eyed southern belle is looking at him like he hung the moon so that’s that. Me and the dark one exchange a glance over the colorful head of his partner and I shrug and smile as if to say “Can’t blame me for trying!” , to which he kinda grins and then he’s leading my wet dream away, wine I’m paying for in hand.
They make a hell of a hot couple though, and after watching em dancing all night long I’m gonna need one of two things. Either a cold shower or a visit from my 3 am guy. I think 3 am guy’s gonna be getting a wake up call.
