***
Leaving
***

I don't know how we ended up like this. It doesn't seem quite right
somehow, y'know? Except it is right, and I know that now. I guess I
should always have known.

You're so much stronger than me that I don't think any of this is
even going to affect you at all. Maybe it's not fair to say that, and
I don't think I'll ever say it to your face. There's a lot I'll never
say to you, but especially this. I don't think you'd take it very
well if I told you I didn't think you cared as much about me as I do
about you. You've done so much to try to show me that you do care.

But you're stronger than me, and I can't pretend like I don't know
that. I think deep down we both know, y'know? Except you're never
going to admit it because I'm supposed to be the strong one here. But
I'm not. Not when it really comes down to it. I don't know what I'm
going to do without you, I really honestly don't.

The thing is that you really don't have any reason to stay. I wish I
could say that I'd given you a reason, but I never could. It's not
for lack of trying, though – I mean, I've done everything I can think
of to make you stay with me. But I've given up now.

I had to give up. I couldn't go on trying to fool myself anymore. I
just looked into your eyes as you told me you were leaving and I knew
there was nothing I could do or say to make you stay. And I guess I
know it's for the best. You've always known that. I wish I had.

I can't believe I never realised it before now. I should've seen it
right from the start. But obviously I'm not exactly known for my
smarts. It just makes me feel even worse knowing that I believed
there was some way this could work out between us when all the time
you knew it couldn't. I hate that I never saw that, y'know. And I
hate that you knew but you let this happen anyway.

***

It started way back when we first started working together. Well,
kinda it did, because for the first month or whatever I think you
honestly thought I hated you. But I didn't. I was just trying to make
sure that you didn't think I liked you at all because that would've
been awkward. I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable around me.
But you did anyway and I was sorry for that because I thought this
wasn't what you wanted.

And for a while I stayed away from you, because I thought you wanted
me to. I stayed as far away from you as the job allowed. But you made
the peace between us. You came to me and told me that you knew what I
was feeling but you didn't want it to ruin our relationship. That was
a strange moment. For about a minute I just sat there and tried not
to blush or whatever and couldn't meet your eyes. I couldn't believe
that you knew and that you were being so matter-of-fact about it.

I almost wish you hadn't been. Because that just made me feel worse
about myself. If you'd hated me or you'd been repulsed or something
then that would've been okay, it really would. It would've been
better. I would've been able to hate myself because of it. But you
made me feel okay about it, and I knew that wasn't right. I didn't
want to feel okay about being attracted to you, because it just… we
shouldn't be able to be together, two guys like us.

But you didn't cut me off; what you did was tell me that even if you
didn't feel the same way about me it was okay for me to feel like
that because I couldn't help it, and you didn't want it to get in the
way of our friendship. You said you were okay with it. And even
though I couldn't see how you could be okay about me feeling that
way, you actually seemed like you were. You acted like nothing was
wrong, like it was all perfectly natural. You sat there in that bar,
you smiled and you shrugged it off.

I wish you'd yelled at me. I wish you'd told me I was sick. Anything.
But you didn't. And I'm not trying to say that any of this is your
fault - because I'd never say that, because it just isn't true,
because all of it is all me – but if you'd just yelled and told me
you never wanted to see me again then it would've all been okay.

Because at least if you'd done that then I wouldn't have been able to
persuade myself that there was still a chance that you could feel the
same way about me.

***

I'm not going to kid myself – I'm in love with you. I think I have
been since, well, a hell of a long time now. I'd like to be able to
say that there was one moment I just sat there and knew that I'd
fallen in love with you, but there wasn't. I think it happened
slowly, building up until one day I just knew that I was in love with
you and it wasn't like it had sneaked up on me because it felt right
and I wasn't surprised.

It felt right. What a joke. It felt right to me, and I can't believe
it ever did.

But I don't think I told you how I felt until what was it, like a
month ago? After the Austin thing. After he came out and beat you up.
That was just a fucking cowardly thing to do. Hell, you're not
exactly a pro wrestler, now are you? You're a commentator. You sit at
ringside and you talk. You're not supposed to get in on the action.
But he took it too far and he hurt you.

I couldn't believe what I was seeing when I saw what he did to you.
And I couldn't believe what I was feeling. I wanted to kill him, I
swear to God I did, and I've never felt that way about anyone before.
But when I saw him put his hands on you, I wanted to kill him. I
wanted to beat him the way he'd beaten you, then just keep going
until he'd never be able to do it again. I still can't believe I felt
that way. It still makes me sick to think about it. Because if I'd
been there and got to him then it would've taken half the goddamn
arena to get me off of him.

But I got to you in the hospital. And I told you. I told you that I'd
seen red the moment Austin had gone near you. I told you that I'd
felt like I was going to throw up when they took you out of there
because I didn't know how bad you were hurt. I told you it made me
think about what I'd do without you, and I couldn't stop myself from
telling you I loved you.

The look on your face when I said it was fucking priceless. You just
looked up at me with this sort of mix of shock and I don't know,
maybe resignation? It was like you knew but you hadn't expected me to
say it right then. Then again, maybe it was just the concussion.

I wish you'd told me to go to hell right then and there, but you
didn't. You sighed and you lay back on the bed, closed your eyes and
rubbed at your temples. Then you looked up at me and told me you
appreciated the sentiment but you didn't feel the same way about me.
You told me I was your best friend and you didn't want anything to
ruin that, but you cared about me. Because we were best friends.

Then you asked me to take you back to the hotel, so I did.

You should've shot me down right then, but you didn't. You should've
done it because I took that as meaning there was still a chance for
us. I took it as meaning that if we weren't best friends then maybe
there would've been a hope for us.

***

The next time I saw Austin I didn't want to kill him. I just wanted
to put him out of the business. But obviously it didn't go quite the
way I planned, `cause, well, look what happened. And you left me
there.

Some people would've taken that as a sign, y'know. But not me.
Because what I was feeling clouded my judgement so damn much I
couldn't see straight. Instead of thinking you didn't care about me
and taking it as a sign you didn't care that Stone Cold was kicking
my ass, I took it as meaning you knew that I'd want you to get out of
there and not get yourself hurt again.

But I'm not saying that you didn't care about me. I mean, I know you
did. We were best friends, obviously you didn't want to see me get my
ass handed to me by the Federation champion, and all over you. But it
would've made things one hell of a lot simpler if I'd thought you
hated me.

And you shouldn't have come to the hospital later that night. I wish
you'd stayed away. At the time I was just lying there asking myself
where the hell you were until you turned up, but thinking about it
now then you could've done me a huge favour and not bothered. You
should've gone back to the hotel and pretended like nothing had even
happened.

Because if you had then none of *this* would've happened.

I asked you to get me out of that place – I've always hospitals and
all I had was a concussion. I just needed to get some rest, and I
didn't need to be in a hospital bed with doctors and nurses fussing
over me. The only problem was that leaving meant having someone stay
with me, and that someone wound up being you.

I didn't want to bother you. I tried to make you go back to your room
so that maybe I could get some rest and you wouldn't have to sit
there and make sure I wasn't dead or in a coma or something, like
that's ever going to happen. Hell, it's not like I go skipping around
like a complete jackass when I have a concussion – I may be stupid
but I'm not that fucking stupid.

So you stayed. And I managed to keep my eyes open for like five whole
minutes before I fell asleep pretty much fully clothed minus boots. I
didn't mean to, I guess I just couldn't help myself. I think maybe if
I'd been able to convince you that I didn't need you to stay then
this would've all turned out differently, but I couldn't because of
that damned concussion.

You stayed. And when I woke up in the morning you were still there.

You were sitting on the other side of the bed looking down at me. And
I couldn't help myself. For one second everything was just so clear.
I had to do it. I sat up, I caught the back of your neck with one
hand and I kissed you.

***

The thing that got me was that you didn't push me away. I'd expected
you to. I think I might even have wanted you to. But you didn't.
Hell, once you got over the surprise you actually kissed me back. I
couldn't believe it was happening. We were kissing. I'd been
imagining it for months but nothing I'd imagined even came close to
how it felt. Because I'd never been able to imagine you'd kiss back.

Then you pulled back and I hung my head. I thought that was it, that
you were going to tell me you'd made a mistake and you were going to
leave now. Except you didn't – you tilted my chin up so I was looking
at you, then you smiled and kissed me again.

I remember how my heart was hammering when you started to pull off my
shirt. I'd never managed to come up with a fantasy even half as good
as it felt to be actually doing it, and I hadn't imagined that just
you taking off my shirt could feel that way. You tugged it up and
over my head, letting your fingers trail up my ribs, making me
shiver `til I could feel my face burning and I was grinning like an
idiot. You looked down at the shirt then back up at me and tossed it
over your shoulder with a smile on your face.

Then yours followed and I was kneeling there on my bed trying to look
like I was staring at you. I'm not going to pretend like I think
you're well built `cause we both know you're not, and I'm not going
to pretend like well built doesn't usually turn me on, `cause it
does. But with you that never mattered, `cause you're just perfect.
You're slim and there's not a fucking ounce of fat on your whole
body. You're pale and your skin's so smooth… And you're, you're just
goddamn beautiful. I never thought I'd be able to say that about
someone like you, about someone who wasn't more like me, but you've
made me rethink a lot of things.

I wasn't sure what to expect from you. I was nervous the whole time.
I thought maybe it was a trick and you were just gonna get up and
leave or laugh at me or something, but you didn't. You pulled off all
our clothes `til we were sitting there naked as the day we were born,
and I still wasn't sure what was going to happen. And I was trying to
keep my eyes on your face or on your hair or the wall or something or
anything to keep from looking down, because I knew I'd just sit there
staring if I didn't and I didn't want to make you feel uncomfortable.

But you weren't. You just weren't, at all. You reached up and stroked
my cheek and when I looked at you, you were still smiling. You just
lowered your eyes for a second, sweeping them down over me, then
looked back up and told me "it's okay, you know. You can look at me".
But I couldn't. I was just frozen to the spot. You swept your hand
down my forearm and took my hand in yours, and when I frowned you
told me "and it's okay to touch me".

And that's what did it. I couldn't stop myself from touching you
after that. I felt like some big awkward fool the whole time, but I
was with you and you didn't seem to mind how clumsy or inexperienced
I must've felt. I hated how I must've seemed, `cause it wasn't like
I'd never been with anyone before, but it was you and I wanted it to
be perfect so bad that I couldn't think straight and everything I'd
wanted to do to impress you just went straight out the window. It was
like it was my first time all over again.

I kissed you and my hands were in your hair as you moved us round so
you could lie back and pull me down on top of you. When I looked at
you you just seemed to know what I was thinking and you told me it
was okay, that I wasn't going to break you. I was so scared I was
going to hurt you, `cause I mean, look at us. I weigh like twice as
much as you. I didn't want to hurt you `cause you were still bruised
from that whole thing with Austin, just like I was. And you looked
concerned when you saw the bruises, but it was okay. It wasn't even
like they hurt anymore because I don't think anything would
have `cause I was with you.

You lay back against the pillows and somehow I ended up kneeling
between your thighs. My heart was beating so fast it felt like I was
gonna have a coronary or something, and I didn't know what I was
supposed to do. You were just lying there looking so perfect, even
better than I'd hoped, waiting for me to do something. But you
weren't impatient. You just wanted me to take my time and get it
right, the way I needed to.

I ran my hands down over your thighs and I could feel you shivering.
Then I went higher and the moment I touched you there you couldn't
stop yourself from bucking up into my hand. I looked at you and you
shrugged, smiling, chuckling. So I touched you some more, faster and
harder `til you were moaning and almost fucking writhing under me.
God, that was so hot. You looked amazing.

But you looked up at me, caught my wrist with your hand and stopped
me. I frowned. "I want you inside me", you said.

I swear my heart almost fucking stopped when you said that, but
somehow I managed to start thinking straight again and when I fished
around at the side of the bed I found my bag. I'm sure there's a
reason that every pro wrestler I know carries around a bottle of baby
oil in their gear bag, but it's probably best not to think too much
about that.

And before I really knew what was happening you'd grabbed the bottle
and poured some of it out onto my hand. I looked at you and you just
raised one eyebrow Rock-style so I almost expected you to say
something like `Cole says what's the fucking hold-up?' and nearly
spilled the whole bottle over your crotch when I started giggling
like a lunatic.

But then you grabbed a pillow and slid it under your hips, and
suddenly I wasn't laughing anymore. It wasn't funny because I was
kneeling on a bed between your thighs and I was about to take this
thing to another level. I was about to make love to you.

I don't think I've ever been with anyone as responsive as you. I
mean, I had one finger inside you and you were writhing under me… You
were breathing heavy just like me, scrunching up the sheets in your
hands over and over, moaning – God, it almost finished me just
listening to you. But it didn't `cause I didn't have the chance. You
leant forward, took my wrist and looked up at me, a smile tugging at
the corners of your mouth as you grabbed the bottle, poured some out
onto your hand and started rubbing it onto me. I'm kinda surprised I
didn't come right then, `cause damn that felt so good.

But then you were lying back again, and I moved over on top of you,
pressing to you, making sure I was looking right into your eyes as I
started to push into you. I didn't want to hurt, and I wanted you to
see how much it meant to me that we were doing this. I was looking
into your eyes as you gasped and you must've seen the worry in my
eyes `cause you just smiled. Then you wrapped your legs around me and
pulled me in deeper.

***

It was perfect. Maybe kinda messy and kinda awkward, but for a first
time it was perfect, `cause it was with you. It's a fucking shame you
can only have one first time in some ways. But then again I was so
nervous that I wasn't thinking straight. The next time and the next
time and the time after that it just got better, but the look in your
eyes and the feeling I got the first time we made love – I'm gonna
remember that forever.

And for a week or so things were great between us. We were happy. I
don't think I've ever been that happy. We talked a lot and stayed in.
We got to know every inch of each other the way I'd wanted to for
months. I really thought things were good between us. I thought it
was gonna work out. But then I got a call.

You took the news about the ECW angle well. Too well. We'd been
together for such a short time… I didn't want to have to leave you. I
told you I wouldn't. You told me I should.

I didn't know what to say. I know, me, speechless. Doesn't sound too
likely, right? Well, I was. You told me I should go because it'd be
great for my career. You told me sitting behind the announce desk was
holding me back. You were basically telling me to leave you. But I
knew I couldn't. Because even then I thought we could work things out
and be together. Even when you were telling me to leave you.

So I didn't leave. You did. We were supposed to be sharing a room
that night after Raw, but when I got back to the hotel you weren't
there. Your stuff wasn't there. All there was was a note, saying you
knew you I wouldn't leave you so you thought it was probably best if
you left instead, and not to come near you `cause we both knew it was
for the best. I felt cold. I couldn't believe I'd lost you.

I wanted to go to you right away, yell at you or beg you or whatever
the fuck I could do to make you see that we could still be together
even if you were commentating and I was back in the ring. I was ready
to beg you to take me back. The next time I saw you I almost did. But
then I looked into your eyes as you told me it was really for the
best and you hoped I'd see that, and I realised. You'd been looking
for a reason to leave me anyway. Just like you'd been looking for a
reason never to be with me in the first place.

So I let you go.

***

It's taken me the last week to understand this, but I think I get it
now. I started questioning everything about us, and I came up with
the answer. You knew that whatever there was between us was doomed.
Right from the start, before it even started. You knew.

You knew what I should've known but was too busy denying and hoping
to see. We're too different for this to ever happen. I should've
known that but I wanted it too much to see it. I loved you too much
to see that it wasn't going to work, and I didn't want to admit that
even trying to keep up a relationship with you was just fucking
impossible. But you knew it from the start.

You tried to avoid it. That's why you told me you weren't attracted
to me, that you didn't want me that way, even if I know you did and
you do. When it came down to it you had as little resolve as I did,
just more understanding. You gave in to what we both wanted. But then
this whole thing just blew up out of nowhere and showed you that you
were right all along. So you left me. You knew that if we stayed
together we'd just be fooling ourselves that this was okay.

And I really think you'll be okay. I think you'll get over me. It's
not your fault you're stronger than me, even if sometimes it feels
like it. You should be hurting like me, but you won't because you
knew this was going to happen right from the start. You should be
hurting so bad you want to come back to me and make it work. Except
it never can. We've both got ambition and we've both got careers, and
they're taking us in separate directions. We stay together and we'll
just end up hating each other.

And you know what the worst thing is? It's knowing that I love you so
much and I still can't make things right. It's a fucking desperate
feeling, knowing you want something so much but it's completely
fucked up and there's not a single fucking thing you can do fix it.
You knew this was beyond hope. That's why you tried to keep it from
happening. It kills me to know we both want this but it can never
work. We can't be together. Frustrating as it is and no matter how
much I hate it, it's true.

So maybe it's a good thing you left. Because I could never have left
you. If you hadn't left me I never would've seen how we can't be
together, I would just've kept on dreaming and trying to hold us
together and denying that we were falling apart. So maybe it's a good
thing you left, even if it feels like I'm still falling apart without
you. It's such a fucking shame that something that felt so good could
have no future.

And the only thing that makes this any better is knowing that in
spite of everything, in spite of everything you've said and the fact
that you left me, you love me too.

***
End
***

Finished? Cool. Just let me know what you thought and I'll love you
forever :)

Lizzie