Rating: NC-17
Content: M/M sex, language, B&D, spanking and other intimidation tactics.
Distribution: Go ahead, just credit me.
Disclaimer: Mmmm...I'd love to own these two, but I don't, so don't sue!
Summary: Stevie demands an apology...and ends up getting something totally different from what he expected. Wow! I think that's my lamest summary yet!
Note: Let's pretend Stevie never cut his hair and still has his lovely long locks, okay? Also, I want to thank Sorcha Ravenschild for betaing this and coming up with the title!
November 3, 2000
Stevie stumbled backstage, leaning against Val Venis for support as he tried to clear the cobwebs from his brain. Christ, that giant really slammed him hard! He shivered at the recollection of those blazing green eyes boring into him and the feel of his huge hands clutching him in an iron grip. He'd felt fear, dismay...and a thrill of something he refused to name ripple through him.
"You okay, Steven?"
Stevie glanced at Bull Buchanan and nodded reassuringly. "I'm fine, Bull," he said. Just a little shaken up."
"You say the word and we'll go teach that degenerate biker that he can't lay hands on someone as important and Influential as you are."
Steven patted Bull's shoulder. "You're a loyal man, Bull," he murmured, sinking into the chair in their dressing room and sighing in relief. "Why don't you all go on back to the hotel. I've got to finish up a few things here before I leave."
"You'll be all right?" Val asked, slipping on his jacket.
"Yes, I'll be fine. Talk to you later. We'll get together to work out a strategy to get those tag belts away from those Hardys."
Val and Bull left, joining Ivory and Goodfather who were waiting in the hall.
When the door clicked closed, Stevie jumped up and paced the floor, brows drawn together in a scowl. "Damn him!" Stevie muttered, raking his agitated fingers through his hair, dislodging the white ribbon holding back the long tresses. "He can't get away with treating me like that. He must be punished." He traversed the worn carpet a few more times, mumbling to himself before striding to the door and yanking it open.
*****
'Taker lounged on his dressing room couch, sipping his beer and idly watching the rest of the matches on the monitor, not really paying attention. He thought back to his run-in with Steven Richards. He smiled at the remembrance of grabbing that little weasel by the neck and making him kneel in front of him. The fear in those dark eyes had sent an almost sexual shock through his system. He was contemplating the sensation of planting Stevie on the mat when a loud insistent knock sounded on the door.
"Come!"
'Taker was astonished to find Stevie storming into the room, slamming the door behind him.
"And just what the hell do you want," 'Taker drawled mildly, raising an auburn brow as he took another swig from the bottle.
"I've come to get an apology from you," Stevie demanded stiffly, his arms crossed over his chest, eyes stern.
'Taker nearly choked on his drink, coughing explosively before staring at him for a moment, then burst into derisive laughter. "Apology? What shit is this?"
Stevie's lips thinned into a disapproving line. "Must you use that vulgar language? And alcohol will only exacerbate your already trigger temper." He stepped closer and plucked the bottle from 'Taker's hand, disappearing into the bathroom and pouring the contents down the sink and dropping the empty bottle into the trash by the commode. When he returned, he noticed 'Taker's narrowed eyes on him and battled to keep his unease from showing. "Now, if you'll apologize, I'll leave you alone."
'Taker's anger was increasing with each passing moment. How dare this shit come in his dressing room and chastise him, snatching his beer from him! He slowly rose to his feet, grimly satisfied to see Stevie take a couple wary steps back as he straightened to his full 6'10 height. "Boy," 'Taker's voice was low and velvety smooth, but Stevie heard the implicit menace underlying the pleasant tone. "I suggest you high-tail your ass right out of here if you want that pretty head of yours to remain on your shoulders."
Stevie was tempted to do just that and had even half-turned to the door. But he forced himself to turn back and shook his head. "I demand what I deserve, Mr. Undertaker," he said firmly.
'Taker suddenly smiled in a wholly evil way that sent a jagged quiver through him. "What you deserve, huh?" He seemed to ponder this for a long while, rubbing the underside of his chin as he stared at the other man impassively. "All right. I'll give you what you deserve."
Stevie sighed in relief, even tentatively smiling up at the intimidating man. "Thank you."
"No...thank you," 'Taker murmured before he reached out and grabbed a fistful of Stevie's shirt and hauled him up in the air until only the tips of his toes were touching the carpet. He gazed deeply into Stevie's widening eyes as he drew him closer, hefting him easily up to his eye level. "I'm going to give you exactly what you deserve, Stevie-boy...though it's not going to be what you expected." He abruptly released the younger man, who staggered to his knees. When he tried to scramble to his feet again, 'Taker clapped his hands on his shoulders, holding him in place. "No," 'Taker growled. "I think I like you in that position, kneeling in submission before me."
Stevie looked up at 'Taker, eyes pleading to be let go, but he didn't speak. His bottom lip trembled at the feel of 'Taker's hand sliding around to encircle his throat. He gasped as the fingers tightened and grasped the big man's wrist.
'Taker watched Stevie intently, that faint sardonic smile touching his lips. "Why don't you beg for me to let you go, Stevie," he whispered, stroking a thumb over the rapidly beating pulse in the hollow of his throat. "If you beg pretty enough, I might allow you to leave here with all of your limbs intact."
Stevie licked his lips, unable to look away from the mesmerizing green orbs. "Please...?"
'Taker tilted his head to the side slightly, quirking his brow in question. "Please? Please what?"
Stevie swallowed the lump of apprehension that had risen, feeling the prick of tears at the backs of his eyes and fought them down, not wanting to cry in front of this man. "Please, let me go?"
'Taker contemplated the kneeling man's features slowly. "I might consider it if you perform a deed of...good will, shall we say?"
"D-deed?"
"Yeah." 'Taker used his free hand to unbuckle his belt, jerking it from it's loops, grinning at Stevie's flinch as the leather brushed his arm. He dropped the belt and deftly unfastened his black jeans.
Stevie blinked in shock as he watched 'Taker shove his pants down until they fell around his ankles, quickly followed by his boxers. He stared at the half-erect shaft just in front of his face, then up at 'Taker. "I-I don't underst-"
"Oh, I'm sure you understand very well, Censor Man," 'Taker purred, his hand tangling in the dark silk of Stevie's hair and tugging him forward. "Give me a good blowjob and I'll let you walk out of here unscathed."
Stevie blushed furiously. "Really...this is quite unacceptable. You can't make me-"
"You either do it, boy," 'Taker rumbled threateningly. "Or I'll give you another chokeslam on this hard cement floor...and this thin carpet ain't going to soften the landing any. I might not break anything...but then again..."
Stevie shook his head helplessly, blinking rapidly to keep the tears from falling. "Why are you doing this? I only asked you to be a part of my group, a part of an organization that's sole intention is to make this a better place for-"
"I'm losing my patience with you, boy," 'Taker interrupted silkily. "If I wanted to listen to your crap, I would have asked."
Stevie snapped his mouth shut, sensing that 'Taker was very close to the edge. He did not want to loose the beast he knew as lurking just beneath the surface. "Wh-what do you want from me?" he questioned tremulously.
'Taker looked pointedly at his shaft, then back at Stevie. "I believe I already told you what I want. Now, get to it...or else-"
Stevie immediately reached up and wrapped his hand around the behemoth's flesh. He stroked it a few times to bring it to full erectness, then leaned forward and pressed his lips against the tip, tasting the precome before opening his mouth to enclose the head.
'Taker Watched him expressionlessly, silently urging him to take more with light pressure on the back of his head. He drew in a long breath, his nostrils flaring as the sensation of wet heat surrounded him, accompanied by a gentle suction. "Take all of it," he growled, groaning softly as Stevie obeyed, relaxing his throat to sink him deep.
Stevie closed his eyes, trying to pretend he was doing anything else but what he was doing, but the sound of 'Taker's enjoyment brought his attention firmly back to his task. He began to notice the texture of the skin against his tongue...smooth and hot, the steel hardness just beneath. The musky scent of his arousal that filled his head and made him dizzy, as if he were intoxicated. The smoky flavor of him that involuntarily made him swallow, his mouth watering the more he tasted. He bobbed a bit faster, unconsciously moving his hands to fondle his balls, shuddering at the sound of 'Taker moaning in pleasure.
"That's real good, Stevie," 'Taker approved, rocking his hips into the strokes. "Suck it harder now...make me come."
Stevie endeavored to oblige, alternating between deep-throating him and licking down the length to the base, then back up to take him down his throat again. He whimpered in encouragement, clasping 'Taker's hips to force him to thrust harder. He could sense him on the verge of release and gently grazed his teeth over the sensitized flesh and moaned as 'Taker shouted loudly, his body stiffening as he exploded powerfully into his mouth. He drank every drop, milking him dry before moving away, licking his lips.
'Taker blew out a harsh breath and collapsed back onto the couch, leaning his head against the cushions. He heard stirring and opened his eyes to see Stevie rising to his feet and turning toward the door. "And just where the hell do you think you're going?"
Stevie froze. "I...well, I did what you told me-"
I'm not finished with you yet," the older man whispered, his lids lowering halfway.
Stevie look bemused and a little fearful. "But...you said-"
"Forget what I said," he retorted, then gestured imperiously. "Come here."
Stevie glanced at the door, biting his lip and wondering if he could just make a run for it. As if 'Taker had read his mind, he said,
"Try that and I'll really hurt you...maybe not now, but I'll stalk you, hunt you down when you least expect it."
Stevie shivered in terror at the very idea and reluctantly shuffled toward the sofa, halting just to the side of 'Taker's legs.
"Strip down."
The younger man's head snapped up to gape at him, dumbfounded. "St-strip? You mean...take my clothes off?"
'Taker smiled sardonically. "Can you think of a better way for me to fuck you without taking your clothes off?"
Stevie flushed brick red and backed away a few steps. "No. You can't do that. It's wrong."
'Taker lazily sat up, pulling off his T-shirt and kicking off his jeans and boxers still around his ankles. He rested his elbows on his knees and scowled at Stevie. "Don't give me that righteous bullshit, boy. I happen to know you've played the bitch to many a man throughout your career in wrestling...most notable being that freak Raven."
Stevie gasped and reddened even more. "That's not-"
"I believe you're about to call me a liar?" 'Taker sing-songed dangerously.
Stevie cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Well, even if what you said was true, that was in my past. I don't do...that anymore."
The redhead laughed disdainfully. "Don't give me that! I know you and your buddies there probably have orgies every night, fucking each other senseless."
Stevie bit hard on the inside of his cheek, willing himself not to blush again. He couldn't possibly know what he and his followers did in the privacy of their rooms. He was just trying to bait him into confessing something he had no intention of admitting. He remained silent, since he couldn't very well reply with any semblance of composure.
'Taker sighed, pointing to him. "I tire of this game. "Take them off or I'll take them off for you. And I won't guarantee that they'll come off in one piece."
Stevie looked at him, then at the door again. He decided that he would chance being ambushed later. He could always have his friends watch his back and warn him of any danger beforehand. He flew to the door and managed to turn the knob before he felt an iron band bar across his throat, cutting off his air. He choked and spluttered, yanking on the bulging arm frantically. "Please...can't...breathe..."
"You should have thought of that before you tried to leave without my permission. He dragged Stevie to the couch and tossed him onto it face-down. "I think I'm going to have to teach you a little lesson, boy." He picked up his discarded belt, catching Stevie's wrists and wrapping the leather around them. He then went to his bag where he rifled through it and came back to the couch with a few items. He bent down and dug in his jeans pocket for the switchblade he always carried, pressing the button in the hilt. Seven inches of cold, razor-sharp steel hissed out with a snap. He swiftly sliced through the cotton and linen of Stevie's clothes, making short work of his blue briefs until he lay exposed.
Stevie trembled in dismay, feeling the cool air of the room against his pimpling skin. "'Taker...please..."
"A little too late for begging now, baby," the other man said, dropping the knife atop the shredded garments and picking up a limber rubber paddle with large nodules on one side, stiff bristles on the other. He flipped it bristle side down. "Ever get a spanking when you were little, Stevie?"
Stevie was attempting to stop the flow of tears that had silently crept down his cheeks. He craned his head around to look up at 'Taker and paused in alarm at the site of the paddle. "God, no...please don't..."
'Taker smiled crookedly. "I'm afraid it's out of my hands now. You made your choice, so now, I have to punish you for making the wrong one."
Stevie cried out with the first blow of the paddle, stinging pain sizzling up his spine. He squirmed begging in earnest now, unable to get the leverage to bring his arms down to push himself up. He curved into the couch as the paddle descended again and again until he was sobbing in distress. To his horror, he also felt himself getting hard. Shame and self-disgust filled him as he tried to roll away from the smacks, his buttocks feeling hot and swollen.
"Oh, please, 'Taker...please, no more!"
'Taker paused, studying Stevie's tear-streaked face, the pleading desperation in is dark eyes and lowered his arm slowly. He dropped the paddle and turned him over, ignoring the grimace of pain as his weight settled on his abused behind. He straddled Stevie's legs and took ahold of his pulsing erection, grinning slyly. "I think Stevie's got a secret fetish. You really get off on being spanked, don't you?"
Stevie shook his head emphatically, swiping at his eyes with his bound hands. "No...no, I don't. I swear."
"Doth protest too much, boy," 'Taker drawled before proceeding to pump Stevie's cock firmly, eliciting a surprised gasp. "I think you enjoy getting that pretty ass whipped nice and good. It makes you hard and so ready to be fucked, doesn't it?"
Stevie shook his head again, then moaned in reluctant pleasure as 'Taker bent his head and laved the tip of his shaft, blowing a steady stream of warm air against the sensitive skin. "Tell me, Stevie...you wanna be my bitch tonight?"
Stevie whined softly, bringing his hands down to push against the other man's chest. "No...I just want you to leave me alone. You hurt me and...and...I don't like it."
"Really?" 'Taker asked. "You don't like it. I've got evidence that tells me different." He took the head of Stevie's shaft into his mouth and gave it a hard suck, causing Stevie's hips to rise sharply off the sofa, a yelp of delight escaping him before he could prevent it. "See? You want this as much as I do. So why don't you quit screwing around and tell me what I want to hear."
Stevie squeezed his eyes shut, his tear-spiked lashes fluttering against his wet cheeks. "I can't..."
"Sure you can," 'Taker contradicted, leaning forward and methodically licking his tears away, capturing his lower lip in his teeth and tugging slightly. "Just say ''Taker, I want to be your bitch.'"
Stevie was finding it hard to think with 'Taker gently nibbling on his lips and chin, sending delicious tingles through him. He braced his hands on the massive chest above him, intending to shove him away, but instead, he splayed his fingers, feeling the steady heartbeat against his palm. "You can't ask me to say that, Undertaker," he whispered brokenly, the usual rasp in his voice deepening with emotion. "You must know you ask too much."
'Taker looked down at him, brushing his lips with a thumb thoughtfully. "It has been my experience that I can ask anyone anything and get a response with the right...incentive or motivation."
"There is nothing you can do that will make me say that," Stevie said stubbornly, his chin lifting slightly in defiance.
'Taker smiled, faintly amused at the younger man's bravado. "You think so?" he said smoothly, moving to stretch his body atop Stevie, nudging his thighs apart to settle between them. "Why don't we test the strength of your conviction, hmmm?"
"I really don't thi-" His words were cut off as 'Taker's mouth slanted over his, plundering the depths with possessive hunger. His fingers held Stevie's chin as he probed and swept his tongue everywhere it could reach, forcing his mouth wide to allow full access. Stevie moaned, tentatively responding, sliding his slick tongue along the underside of 'Taker's, feeling a thrill of pleasure at his growl of approval. He arched up into him when 'Taker spiraled his thumbs around his nipples, hardening them almost painfully. He could feel the hot brand of his shaft digging into his abdomen and the fierce need to feel it inside him nearly made him pass out. He began struggling in earnest, knowing that if he didn't get away from this man and his drugging presence, he would be lost forever.
'Taker subdued the smaller man easily, pulling his belted wrists above his head and pinning them there as he scattered nipping kisses down the length of his vulnerable throat, flicking his tongue over a collarbone before fastening his lips around a stiff bud, suckling and biting until Stevie was whimpering despairingly. In desperation, he managed to slip his leg between 'Taker's and brought it up sharply, not hitting his main goal, but causing enough pain in his upper thigh to make 'Taker's hold loosen on him. He wrenched himself from under him and tumbled onto the floor, crawling towards the door, panicking when he heard the rumbling expletive and the sound of 'Taker's feet hitting the carpet.
"You fucking shit!" 'Taker roared angrily. "Oh, will you pay for that!"
Stevie vaulted to the door, reaching up to turn the knob, then yelped when he felt his pursuer gripping his ankle in a painful clamp. He was thrown off-balance when he was jerked backwards, falling heavily to the floor, his breath whooshing out of him. He quickly rolled onto his back and kicked out, hoping to hit some vital part of his tormentor. But his other foot was caught deftly and slammed down onto the rug.
"So...you want to play it rough, huh?" 'Taker gritted out darkly, yanking Stevie towards him. "I'm game."
Stevie gasped as he was pulled to a sitting position by his bound hands. "Please....no, I'm sorry! Don't hurt me...please..."
'Taker smiled tightly at his captive, locking a hand behind his neck and drawing him forward. "Do you think you deserve my mercy, Stevie?"
Stevie gazed into the fiery depths of 'Taker's eyes and shuddered. "I...please..."
'Taker scrutinized the other man's face, then released him and sat back on his haunches. "On your hands and knees."
Stevie wiped the fresh tears from his cheeks and sniffled. He shook his head adamantly. "No."
"What did you say boy?"
Stevie cringed at the soft danger in his voice, but pushed on. "I won't do as you say. You have no right to treat me like this."
'Taker stared at him in disbelief, then threw his head back and laughed heartily. "You are such a courageous bastard, aren't you?" He instantly became sober. "It'll get you nowhere, however." He grasped Stevie's upper arms and raised him up, flipping him onto his stomach, planting his big hand in the middle of his back to hold him down. He fumbled for the tube he'd retrieved earlier.
Stevie squirmed, managing to rise onto his elbows, then sucked in a sharp breath at the feel of slick fingers probing his entrance. He attempted to move away from the touch, but 'Taker grabbed ahold of his hip, effectively stilling his movements. "This is rape, you know," he whined.
'Taker chuckled huskily. "No, this isn't rape at all. It's only rape when the other party doesn't like it."
"But I don't like this."
"Yes, you do," 'Taker countered. He glided a hand around to lightly clasp his throbbing cock. "And this is the proof, baby," he purred.
Stevie buried his burning face in his hands, trembling as the truth hit him. He was right. Everything 'Taker was doing was arousing him terribly...against his will, but still...
'Taker could feel Stevie's surrender as his body relaxed, poised and expectant as he removed his finger and guided himself to the puckered anus. He wasn't gentle as he drove into the smaller man, leaning over him, barring an arm around his hips to hold him immobile as he thrust deeply.
Stevie bit his lip to keep from screaming as agony ripped through him at the abrupt violation. But he quickly adjusted, biting even harder to keep from crying out at the exquisite friction prickling along his nerves. He was unaware of the little mewing sounds emitting from his throat at each powerful stroke of 'Taker's hips.
But 'Taker was very aware of them. Those noises were exciting him enormously, urging him to move faster. "Oh, fuck, Stevie...so Goddamn tight!" He removed his arm, balancing his weight on his hands as he laid is torso over Stevie's back, grinding himself into the other man erotically. "You like this, don't you, baby? The feel of me inside you, filling you completely? Tell me."
Stevie rocked back into him, lifting his head, rubbing it against 'Taker's shoulder. "Please..." he gasped, pressing himself as close as he could get to the big man.
"Tell me what you want, Stevie," he murmured, nipping the lobe of his ear, flickering the tip of his tongue inside his ear. Stevie mumbled something incoherently, pushing up onto his hands to rear back harder into 'Taker's plunges. "What was that? I didn't hear you."
"Fuck me...please..."
Stevie's harsh raspy voice sent a jolt of desire through 'Taker and he increased his tempo slightly, bracing himself on one hand as he pumped Stevie's cock with the other, tugging and squeezing firmly. "You want me to fuck you, baby? Fuck you hard and fast?"
"yeah....yes, please!"
"Does that mean you want to be my bitch?"
Stevie didn't answer immediately, moaning when 'Taker slapped his already sore ass. "Yes...yes!"
"Say it," 'Taker whispered. "I want to hear you say it."
Stevie sobbed, writhing in frustration, feeling himself on the verge of release, but having it constantly torn out of his reach. "I...I want to-to be your...your bitch. Now...please...I need to-to...please!"
'Taker laughed wickedly, straightening up and withdrawing from him, shoving him onto his back, hooking his fingers behind Stevie's knees and pulling him close, placing his bent legs against his chest and leaning down, forcing Stevie's body double until his knees almost touched his own chest. He slammed into the younger man again, pounding savagely, clutching Stevie's shoulders to keep him from sliding across the floor with the power of his thrusts. "Jerk yourself off for me," he growled, levering up just enough to be able to watch, groaning at the sight of Stevie using both hands to frantically pump himself. "Christ, you look so fucking hot doing that."
"'Taker...I-I'm gonna come! Can I...is it okay...I need..."
"Come for me, baby," 'Taker said, his voice strained with the effort of holding back until Stevie went over the edge. He panted loudly as he felt Stevie bow up into him, wailing as he shot his load all over the both of them. He leaned forward even more and lunged deep, angling until he found Stevie's prostate, grunting as Stevie bucked in surprise, crying out as he started to come again. "Fuck...that's it, come again for me. I'm gonna come, too. Right....now!"
Stevie whimpered breathlessly as the waves of his second orgasm began to fade. He felt 'Taker bellow as his own release overtook him in a convulsive spasm. He pulled the redhead down for a long, wild kiss, refusing to let go until the need for air forced them to break away.
'Taker shifted, allowing Stevie's legs to slide out from between them to the floor. He stroked his hands down the sides of the other man's body possessively, kissing his throat, sucking hard until a purplish bruise formed. He proceeded to clean Stevie's seed from his hand and stomach, sharing it with the younger man. Neither of them spoke for a long while, just letting their bodies cool, their heartrates return to normal.
Stevie played with 'Taker's abundant hair, staring at the ceiling sightlessly, feeling more relaxed than he'd been in a very long time. "So...what does all this mean?" he said hesitantly, breaking the silence.
'Taker raised his head, resting it in his upturned palm. "All what?"
Stevie gestured between them. "This. Are you planning on us...I mean, does this mean we're..."
'Taker frowned. "Spit it out."
Stevie sighed, rubbing his eyes wearily. "Is this going to be an on-going thing between us or was this a one-night-stand?"
'Taker smiled in amusement at Stevie's refusal to look at him directly. "I don't know. Do you want this to be an on-going thing?"
Stevie glanced at him, then away, focusing in seeming absorption at the light fixture above their heads. "I'm...not sure."
"You loved me fucking you. Admit it."
Stevie blushed hotly. "That's beside the point."
"No, I don't think it is," 'Taker corrected. "The point is do you want me to keep on fucking you."
"Do...do you want to?" Why wasn't he telling this huge bully that he never wanted him anywhere near him again? Stevie had no clue. But the thought of not feeling him inside him again sent a cold chill through him, a feeling of dismay filling him.
'Taker took his time answering, watching his countenance inscrutably. "Why don't we just play it by ear, hmmm?"
That wasn't the answer Stevie was hoping for and was cruelly disappointed. But he squelched it, arranging his features into an indifferent expression. "I see. Well, I think I'd better go now."
"Gonna go running back to your fuck buddies, huh?" 'Taker sneered, rolling off Stevie and gracefully rising to his feet, looming over the prone man, hands on hips. "Just make sure you don't mention what went on here, understand? I don't want to have to watch my back for any sneak attacks from those pricks."
Stevie cautiously got to his own feet, wincing at the various aches and pains clamoring in objection. He tried to think of something appropriately scathing to that remark, but the words died on his lips as 'Taker stepped close, tilting his chin up to gaze deeply into his eyes. He literally melted against him as the big man's mouth descended in a brutal kiss that quickly turned sensuous. He lost all track of time as his whole being was focused on the texture and flavor of 'Taker's mouth, murmuring a protest when he broke off the kiss.
"Get dressed and go now," 'Taker said gruffly, turning his back to the wide-eyed man.
Stevie swallowed down the tears that threatened, bending to gather his clothes. He suddenly realized that he couldn't wear them. "Um...do you have anything I can wear? You sliced up mine."
'Taker raked an impatient hand through his damp hair and strode to his duffel, rummaging around until he found an old T-shirt and track pants, shoving them into Stevie's hands and stalking toward the bathroom.
"'Taker," he began in a tremulous voice. "er, will I...what I mean to say is...are we going to...um...see each other again?"
'Taker threw a cool glance over his shoulder. "We'll see. Now get out."
Stevie slowly donned the oversized clothes, adjusting them as best he could and, after casting a last look at the closed bathroom door, left, feeling despondent and weepy. What the hell was wrong with him? What did he expect? A lifelong commitment? A declaration of undying love? Get a grip Stevie! The man just wanted to humiliate and dominate you. He was only out to prove a point and get a quick fuck while he was at it. Nothing more...nothing less.
He shook his head, massaging the back of his neck as he went back to his locker room and got his wallet and keys, leaving the arena with his head down, his hair shielding his tear-stained face.