His Moment of Weakness
"1... 2... 3..."
"Ooowww!!!"
Matt Hardy set his hands on hips, an exasperated glare on his face as he stared down at the Diva sprawled out on the mat before him, "You're going to break something if you keep doing that, Trish."
Gasping slightly for breath, a hand nestled beneath her, clutching the small of her back, the angry scowl that had been on the girl's face for a good fifteen minutes now only deepened, "If I keep doing that?" She sat up, winching as she did so, "If you were actually paying some fucking attention I wouldn't keep hurting myself when I land."
"I am paying attention," the eldest Hardy Boy retorted.
But the defiant girl cut him off, climbing to her feet, "Uh huh! To Adam Copeland and not to training with me...."
The sentence died away as Matt stepped forward, slapping a hand across the WWE Diva's mouth to silence her, "You wanna say that a bit louder, Trish? I think the guys setting up the Titantron didn't hear you." Her brow pressed together furiously, her brown eyes filled with fire as he went on, "God, that'd be all I'd need. Word getting back to Amy that I haven't exactly been faithful since she got laid up." His voice settled lowly, "Or is that what you want? For your new best friend to know all about Adam and I..."
Yanking away from him, Trish placed her hands on her hips, peering up at him, "Amy is not my new best friend." Though still furious, her voice softened slightly at the mention of Amy Dumas, "I just feel bad for her, being out for a year... And her boyfriend having some pretty major difficulties keeping his dick in his pants."
Matt chuckled at this, "What's the matter, Trishy? Jealous I get to bang Adam all week and then go home to fuck Amy?" He stepped a little closer to her, "Or just jealous you're not a part of the action?"
Disgusted, the girl shook her head at him, "You're a pig, Matt," was all she said as she moved to walk by him, her shoulder banging into his elbow as she passed, the Hardy Boy seizing the opportunity to snatch a hold of her arm and whirl her around. He pulled her body hard against him, his dark eyes searching hers. Startled by the move, she stammered softly, "Matt..." His hand latched onto hers, leading it to the bulge in his baggy black cargos. Not just startled, but now downright mortified, Trish squirmed beneath his grasp, trying to pull away from him, but his grip steadfast. "Matt, stop it!!!"
Leaning forward so his face sat just millimetres from hers, the intensity of his gaze never faltering as his hot breath washed over her beautiful face, he whispered, "Is that what you want, Trish?" The slight upturn of his nose nestled gently against hers, "I think it's what you need."
"Stop it!" she near cried out, again trying to tear away from him, surprised when he simply let her go. She yanked the hand that had just been pressed against him to her chest, holding it as though it had been burned.
Amused by her reaction, Matt grinned, "This is not for you, Trish. And it's certainly not for Amy. Be sure to mention that to her next time you see her and you try and worm your way by me and into her pants."
Hurt by his words, Trish fought the sudden burst of tears that touched her at this, "It's not like that..."
"Isn't it?"
The girl looked away, shame touching her usually happy face and she turned, stepping through the ropes and jumping from the apron to move up the ramp and towards the backstage area. Matt looked after her, laughing softly as she hurried out of sight. In all honesty, he could never begrudge Trish her feelings toward Amy. After all, he himself didn't love her, probably never would, and he only kept her around to keep the facade that was his career's security blanket alive. Besides, Trish was a good girl. And she would never overstep the line.
He shrugged, fully aware the same could not be said of him.
The eldest Hardy Boy looked over to where Adam Copeland sat in one of the first few rows of the first deck of the arena, signing a bunch of photographs for some charity Matt had never heard of. He had already been up there a good hour while Matt had trained with Trish, and as he looked him over, Matt wasn't sure he showed any sign of finishing off the enormous pile the WWE had organized for him either. Knowing that Trish would not be returning, and with the raging hard on every tiny glimpse over at the handsome blonde had fuelled still nagging at him, a wicked grin touched Matt's face and he climbed from the ring, jumping the barrier and heading up into the stand.
When he neared the foot of the steps that lead up to where Adam was sitting, the man more popularly known as Edge chuckled, not even looking up yet somehow sensing the Hardy Boy was there, "Piss Trish off again this week, did ya?"
"How'd you guess?" Matt asked, as he moved up the steps, casually strolling up to Adam's side to plonk unceremoniously into the empty seat beside him.
"Caught a glimpse of her scurrying away," Adam looked up, but only for a second. "You really should start being a tad nicer to the poor girl, you know." He scribbled his ring name on the photograph he held in his hand before dropping it into the box at the opposite side of him and moving onto the next in the still large pile that lay in his lap. "Poor girl really does have a thing for Amy." He mused aloud, "Jeff too."
A near evil snort escaped Matt at this, "Guess I beat her to the punch there twice in a row," he leant back in the seat, tucking his hands behind his head, all self-satisfied. "Poor little Trish," he cooed sarcastically.
Merely nodding in response, Adam continued to work through the pile of photographs, fully aware that Matt's eyes never left his downcast face as he signed autograph after autograph. He did as best as he could to ignore him, determined not to deliver the pleasure the bulge in Matt's pants told the young superstar he had come looking for.
"You know," Matt told him quietly, "You can stop signing those stupid fucking things any time you like and start paying some attention to me."
Adam shrugged, continuing to sign, "I think you pay enough attention to yourself for the both of us."
Surprised by the wry quip, Matt's eyes narrowed slightly, "You got your panties in a twist again?" No answer came and eventually he snarled lowly, "Adam..."
"I saw what you did to Trish. I see what you do to Amy, what you've done to Jeff." Only now did the handsome blonde look up, his sparkling blue eyes meeting Matt's chocolate orbs, "What you're doing to me." He shrugged, trying to stay as cool as he possibly could, "To be honest, I'm getting fucking tired of it."
Surprised by the outburst, Matt arched an eyebrow at him, "Where did that come from?"
"From you," Adam stated simply, "From you being an asshole to everyone all the fucking time." Finally laying down his sharpie and the pile of photographs in his lap, dumping them on top of the pile he had already signed in the box, he told him, "You treat everyone like shit, and somehow you always get away with it." He shook his head, leaning forward, getting right up in Matt's face. "But not anymore. Not with me."
Despite the seriousness of Adam's words, Matt laughed, "And you're such a fucking Angel."
Adam smiled, but the gesture was obviously forced, "Compared to you, I'm Mother Teresa."
"Oh God," Matt groaned, dropping his hands from behind his head, one hand pressing melodramatically to his forehead, mocking Adam's seriousness, "Is this going to be another one of your lectures about morality? Because if you don't mind I'd like to just skip through it and get to the fucking."
"Not today," the blonde breathed. "Not ever again." He climbed to his feet, gathering up the box of photographs and stepping over Matt's legs and out into the aisle, walking slowly, deliberately up the stairs, moving into the still darkened section of the stand, his eyes locked on the light he could see that led out into one of the many hallways of the arena.
Stunned, but angry, his blood beginning to boil, bubbling furiously beneath his skin, he climbed to his feet, marching after Adam. "Stop." But the man kept walking, only infuriating him all the more, "I said stop," he pounced forward, grabbing Adam's arm and whirling him, slapping the box from his hand as their eyes met. "What the fuck got into you today?"
"You, Matt! Jesus!" Not at all intimidated by the distaste on the Hardy Boys face, Adam stepped forward, again leaning in to Matt's personal space, making sure his breath could be felt on his face and that his angry hazel eyes were staring deeply into him. "You want everything, fuck, you have everything, and you're still an asshole to everyone. You've got Amy, this poor girl who loves you so fucking much and has no god damn clue what kind of person you really are, and then you go fucking around with Jeff every chance you get. And then me..." The first signs of the hurt that had been buried in the blonde for far too long started to seep into his voice as he went on, "You don't give a damn about me." His angry voice lowered, but only slightly, "I put my whole life on hold to be with you, I keep Jay at arms length time after time because I want to be with you, and you treat me like I'm little more than your fucking whore..."
The last of Adam's sentence died away as Matt's hands planted firmly in his chest, knocking him flat on his back. Before he could even think, Matt was upon him, perched over his waist, his brown eyes glaring down into his, the hard on he had noticed the moment Matt had sat beside him digging sharply into his groin. A low growl omitted from the Hardy Boy's pouty lips, and Adam closed his eyes, trying to shut the sheer animalistic sound of it from his mind.
But Matt moved slowly against him, rubbing his desire over him, his hands taking hold of his wrists, moving them above his head and pinning them there as he leant down, pressing his chest into him, the Hardy Boy's tongue flicking seductively along the line of his throat before biting down.
He wanted to resist, he did, but to his horror his body was responding to the Hardy Boy, his cock beginning to stir where it remained trapped beneath Matt's erection. When he felt Matt's lips press roughly to his, a tongue forcing its way into his mouth, a soft moan escaped him before he could fight it. He opened his eyes when Matt pulled away, despising the lust he knew had filled them.
"You are my whore, Adam," Matt chuckled, "You always will be."
Hurt, angry, Adam tore his wrists free of Matt's grasp, shoving the Hardy's chest as he sat up, but unable to move Matt from where he still straddled him, now perched contently in his lap, "Get off me," he spat.
"Make me," was the seductive whisper he got in reply.
Again, Adam pressed his hands to Matt's chest, trying to shove him away, but Matt snatched a hold of his wrists again, pressing forward with all his might and pinning the blonde back against the cold concrete floor, his mouth taking hold of his once again in another delectably forceful kiss. Beneath him, Adam struggled, but they both knew his protests were in vain, Matt soon able to pin both wrists to the ground with one hand, the other gripping Adam's cotton shirt and pulling it upwards. The moment he had it bunched up around Adam's neck, Matt broke the kiss, his lips immediately finding a nipple he could suckle on as he shuffled back far enough to battle with Adam's belt, unhooking it as quickly as he could and unzipping his jeans. He scraped his teeth across the nipple and then bit and licked his way across the finely toned chest beneath him to Adam's second nipple, finally able to completely let go of Adam's wrists as the blonde omitted a soft moan.
His hands moved onto Adam's chest, his nails scraping across the flesh, Matt putting all the pressure he could behind the scraping, pleased with the red welts that appeared after each scrape of nail on flesh as he kissed and bit his way down Adam's chest, his fingers tangling in the top of his jeans and pulling them down, Adam instinctively arching up from the floor so Matt could force the denim all the way down to his knees. His erection now exposed, the cold of the concrete beneath his bare ass only adding to his pleasure, Adam reached out, his fingers gently tangling in Matt's hair. The moment he felt the hot mouth press against the tip of his shaft he threw his head back slightly, biting down on his lip to keep from crying out.
Impaling his mouth on Adam's cock, Matt fought to hide his delight at the response of the slightly older man, knowing full well that this scenario would run exactly as he wanted to.
It always did.
He just had to kiss Adam a certain way, touch him a certain way, and the handsome Canadian would do whatever the hell he told him.
The power that gave Matt Hardy almost turned him on more than the desperate way Adam would arch into his mouth and tug on his hair, trying to pull Matt's mouth as completely onto his hard shaft as he could. He bobbed up and down on him, his own hard on now screaming against the confines of his pants, desperate for release. He unhooked his belt, never ceasing to move on Adam, undoing his pants and pushing them down, grateful for the freedom when he finally sprung loose from his clothing. His hands crept forth again, locking on Adam's hips, lifting them, his hands shuffling under him to grip at his ass.
Matt's fingers tearing sharply, deeply into his ass cheeks made Adam's head spin and he moaned again, louder and sharper than before, "Jesus..." he whispered, taking nearly all of his weight onto his shoulder blades as he pushed forward, his rebellious body yearning for more of the wondrous attentions that the Hardy Boy was lavishing on him...
Until he felt Matt's hands spreading his ass cheeks, Matt moving his mouth away from him, his sweet manipulations coming to a pain-staking halt. Adam opened his eyes, looking up at the Hardy, "Matt," he whispered, "Please... Please more..."
The only response he got was dark smirk, his already pounding heart skipping a beat in a mixture of dread and excitement, knowing all too well what was to come next. "Matt... I'm not..." But the word died away as Matt yanked him further onto his lap, positioning his cock between Adam's ass cheeks. A deep seeded laugh, breathless, but filled with his venom, broke from his full lips, and before Adam Copeland could utter even one more word of protest, Matt Hardy had slammed painfully into his dry ass.
A new cry broke from Adam, this one pained, his eyes clenching closed as he felt his insides pull in violation. He clenched his teeth down into his lower lip, his eyes watering, the pleasure leaving his body as Matt pulled back only to slam down into him again.
A guttural growl fell from Matt's lips as he moved, Adam's ass clenching so tightly around him, gripping him with a might very different to that he was used to, his dark smile only deepening with the thought that he would have to remember not to lube up more often. The soft cries, the shaking, of the man beneath him... God, knowing them to be pain fuelled only made them feel that much more incredible, and as he pound down, over and over into the blonde Canadian, Matt Hardy was in heaven.
His ass on fire, grateful when he felt the slightest hints of lubrication coming from Matt's pre-cum inside him, Adam tried to push away the pain, his hand reaching out to lock around his slightly lessened erection, hoping to try and draw at least some pleasure from the encounter, Adam started to pump his cock slowly. But when Matt, thrusting harder and harder, opened his eyes to see the gentle touches he placed on himself, an angry snarl emerged from him and he slapped his hand away, barking huskily, "Don't."
"But..."
"DON'T!" was the tightly whispered order, Matt throwing his head back, his long dark ponytail whisking down his back as he pummelled into Adam again and again, over and over...
Before one more cry escaped him, this one deeper and darker than the rest and he released, coming inside Adam's aching ass and collapsing forward onto the perfect chest beneath him, panting desperately, blissfully aware of how rigidly Adam lay beneath him, his arms resting limply at his side.
Short of breath himself, Adam closed his eyes, grateful Matt was done.
He whispered the truth that bounced redundantly around his head, "You're a fucking asshole, Matt."
Somehow finding the strength to lift himself off Adam's body, propping himself up on an elbow beside him, Matt crept a hand around Adam's still hardened shaft, smiling, proud. He started to pump slowly back and forward, whispering, "I may be an asshole," He leant forward, gently kissing the head of Adam's cock, "but you can't get enough..." He wrapped his lips around Adam's shaft, again moving down over him, taking him as completely into his mouth as he could.
Groaning in pleasure, Adam was unable to stop his body's instinctive reaction to move up and down in time with Matt's mouth, his cock beginning to throb with revived pleasure every time the tip was buried deep within the Hardy Boys throat, the skilled actions of Matt overcoming him. The faster he moved, the more insane he was driven until eventually he cried out, releasing in Matt's mouth.
Pleased, Matt suckled every last drop he could get from his lover, only pulling away when he was content there was nothing more to take. He pulled away, looking up to Adam's face.
His perfect features were restful, but anger still rest there, his own self-loathing apparent. Matt moved to his knees, pulling his pants up and straightening himself before leaning over Adam, his lips scarcely touching Adam's for a moment before he whispered nastily, "Speak to me."
Weakly, all Adam could reply was, "I hate you."
Matt Hardy laughed, "You don't," he kissed Adam deeply, hungrily, the kiss overpowering, a sizzling reminder of who he belonged to, "And that will always be your weakness."
With that he climbed to his feet and walked away.
Leaving Adam knowing full well that his words were the truth...
And hating himself for it.
~ The End ~