Part 2 in Series
Author: Midnight
Email: bratd19@charter.net
Fandom: Wrestling
Series: Is This Love?
Rating: FRT
Warnings: Bad language, angst,
slash m/m relationships
Disclaimer: Don’t know ‘em.
Don’t own ‘em. This is fiction.
So that was it, then. That was the point of Shawn’s irrational
tangent the previous week: the sagging bag of flesh wasting airtime. What the
world saw in Hulk Hogan he would never know. His eyes followed him around the
ring; took in every touch, every gesture, every word; even if he couldn’t hear
them. What a joke: the big red and yellow phony. What the hell had Vince been thinking?
Hogan was so damn past his prime it was outlandish. The man should be in a
nursing home rolling up his lolling flesh, tending to niggling injuries, and
watching reruns of The Golden Girls not here on Raw being touched by the
man of his dreams. And just what the hell did Shawn think he was doing anyway?
What gave him the right to touch that shrunken bag of bones?
He stalked away from the monitor unable to take it anymore,
everything he’d seen burned into his memory, his eyelids. At least he knew now.
Why Shawn had wanted so badly to leave him. He’d thought they were in love.
Apparently the Heartbreak Kid didn’t have the same idea of love as he did.
Obviously the Showstopper was only interested in the short-term meaning of the
word. He had to give him credit. He’d played the game well. Made him believe,
made him fall, made him imagine a future for them. Evidently, he was only good
as long as the novelty hadn’t yet worn off. Well, fine, if that was the way
Shawn wanted to play that was fine with him. He sure as hell didn’t need the
aggravation. Really? Then why had his feet carried him right to his locker room
door? Annoyed he sighed and hung his head. How damn pathetic could he be? Why
was he still willing to let the other man play with his emotions like this?
“Did you want something?” A cold voice asked somewhere to his
left. He sighed again, this time rolling his eyes, and turned toward him. His
anger rising as he spotted the red and yellow pansy standing beside him, eyes
alight with amusement, an arm thrown across Shawn’s shoulders.
“Yeah.” He replied, his voice just as cold. “We need to discuss
something.” Shawn stared at him, eyes hard, expression inscrutable. He shifted
uncomfortably in the silence, staring hard into Shawn’s eyes, attempting to
read the expression. It was impossible. Finally, Shawn appeared to have
finished scrutinizing him. He shook his head slightly.
“We have nothing to discuss.” Dave sighed. Well, if that was
the way he wanted to be. Shawn Michaels wasn’t the only one who could play this
game. He nodded and started to walk away. Shawn switched his attention to
Hogan, a mere second before Dave’s hand clamped painfully around his wrist and
swung him around, dragging him down the hall. “What the--” Shawn yelped as Dave
tightened his grip. “Damn it, let me go!” Unfortunately for Dave, Hunter was
leaning against the wall around the corner they turned. Shawn’s hand
immediately shot out and grabbed ahold of the closest part of Hunter’s body it
could reach, unfortunately for Hunter. The Game yelled and attempted, vainly,
to disengage Shawn’s fingers from his hair. Dave didn’t stop. Heads turned as
they moved down the hall, snickers followed them into Dave’s locker room, of
which the door was very nearly slammed on Hunter Hearst-Helmsly’s head. He
managed to stop it just in time and stumble into the room, kicking it closed
after him. Dave let go and spun to face Shawn, whose glare could have set him
on fire. He opened his mouth, set to tear the smaller man to pieces, when Hunter
stepped in front of him, staring not at Shawn, whose fingers were still in his
hair, but at Dave.
“This is none of your business.” Dave informed him evenly.
Hunter jerked a thumb over his shoulder at Shawn.
“He seemed to think so.” He replied impersonally. “And his is
the only opinion of any importance to me.” Dave sighed and rolled his eyes. Oh,
how he hated the Kliq.
“This is between me and Shawn.” Said man stepped up beside
Hunter, winding an arm around his waist and laying his head on his shoulder.
“I don’t want to talk to him.” He whispered tearfully and
Hunter tensed in anger and wrapped a protective arm around him.
“You don’t have to.” He returned and steered Shawn towards the
door. “Come on, I’ll take you back to the hotel.”
“We can do this in here in private,” Dave spoke up to Shawn’s
retreating back. “Or we can do this out there in public.” He smirked when Shawn
froze. The Heartbreak Kid did not like scenes he couldn’t control. He could
feel the anger vibrating off his ex as he turned, eyes blazing with hatred.
“Fine.” He hissed ad turned back to Hunter. “Nevermind, Hunt.”
“Are you sure?” Hunter asked softly, glancing between them.
Shawn nodded and Hunter left the room. He folded his arms across his chest and
glared up at him in something akin to defiance.
“Hurry the hell up. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”
Dave’s anger returned full-force as the implication in those words hit home and
he took a step toward Shawn, who barely managed to remain where he was.
“Oh, I saw that, baby.” He growled. “I finally figured it out.
Why you wanted to dump me so damn badly.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Hogan.” Dave spat. “That’s what I’m talking about. I always
knew you were an irrational little twit but last week? That was ridiculous. I
knew you couldn’t be that insane. It wasn’t about Chris. It was an excuse.”
“An excuse?” Shawn’s arms dropped to his sides. Dave had
expected anger. He’d been waiting for Shawn to explode. After all, Dave had
just called him a liar…and a twit. But the man in front of him looked lost,
confused, and he actually stepped forward. “Dave…what the hell are you babbling
about?”
“You didn’t leave me because of Chris, Shawn. You left me
because of Hogan. Because you wanted him, not me.” Now he looked appalled,
sick. Torn between anger and disgust. His mouth opened but no words came out.
Dave could’ve laughed. They’d dated for over a year and he’d never been able to
strike him speechless. His amusement seemed to jar Shawn’s voice box into
working order.
“Are you insane?!” He yelled. “Hogan!” His eyes slipped closed
as he breathed deep, either trying to regain control of himself or keep from
vomiting, Dave wasn’t sure.
“You looked pretty fucking chummy with him.” Shawn’s eyes flew
open at the barb and he glared up at him. Dave smirked. “Been looking forward
to this haven’t you? You’ve known about it for awhile. Just couldn’t find an
opportunity to leave me until last week.”
“What the hell are you on?!” Shawn was nearly hysterical.
Apparently the thought of going out with Hogan was more than Shawn could
handle. Honestly, the very idea revolted Dave, and it did seem a bit more than
ludicrous but what the hell? He’d gone this far. He shrugged.
“Obviously the same thing you are.” He returned coldly. “Why
else would you break up with me for some trumped up reason? Unless you were
lying about being in love with me.” Twice in ten minutes. Wow, that had to be a
record. Shawn stared up at him at a loss for words. “I guess that’s a ‘yes’
then, eh, love?” He started to walk by him, to leave, when Shawn’s hand darted
out and smacked him as hard as he could. Dave stumbled, clutching his cheek and
stared down at him.
“Go to hell.” He whispered tearfully and stalked out of the room.
Dave sighed and crumpled to the floor, his head in his hands. What the hell had
he just done?
The End