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Title: Enjoy the Silence
Author: Lizzie
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: R? Again? When oh when will I get my muses to inspire me to sex?
Content: Angst. Violence. Strong language. Mentions of m/m sex. Erm, a slight amount of sap?
Disclaimer: They're not mine, and unless I wake up one morning having mysteriously become Vince McMahon, I doubt they ever will be. Damn, that's a scary thought. And the song �Enjoy the Silence� isn�t mine either � that�s Depeche Mode�s.
Distribution: Not that you're likely to want it, but if you do, just tell me where.
Summary: �Words are very unnecessary, they can only do harm�.
Notes: The title comes from the song �Enjoy the Silence� by Depeche Mode. I can�t believe that I�ve been listening to Depeche Mode, but the magnificence that is Morpheus does strange things to me. And the line I used as the summary was bugging me for three whole days until I realised what song it was. Imagine how I felt when I realised it was Depeche Mode!! Oh, and this is all the fault of that same damned loud and obnoxious Raven-muse that seems to want himself written into everything I write these days. And he has a crush on Matt Hardy. It�s Raven�s POV, by the way.

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Enjoy the Silence
***

You never talk to me. Sure, you talk, but you never really say anything. You sit there staring out of a window or at the TV or sometimes at me and you can talk for hours without saying a thing. You say it�s a gift and most of the time I have to agree that it is. Of course, that�s if you call a solid ability to babble a gift.

You�re sitting at the table with your chin propped up on one hand, staring off into space. I checked to make sure you weren�t actually looking at anything and all there is up there�s an expanse of unremarkable white ceiling. Most people would�ve laughed at me for trying to see whatever you saw, because there was nothing there but the floor of the hotel room above us, but you didn�t even bat an eyelid. That�s not your style. You don�t like to make me feel small. You just kept on talking. You�re still talking now.

I�ve lost track of the topic and I realise I have no idea what you�re talking about. I never really know because to be honest you never really say anything and I never really listen. You only do it so we�re not sitting in silence. And you seem to get through things so quickly, skipping between subjects that I couldn�t even begin to relate, leaving me behind somewhere. I don�t know how your mind links these things together, I really don�t. I marvel at it. Because I know I can�t talk like you.

You seem to be able to strike up a conversation with anyone at any given time. Last week I walked into the locker room and you were discussing politics with Kurt Angle. I�ve heard you on the phone with Eddie Guerrero discussing racial stereotyping. And you can talk for an hour with your brother about fucking hair dye of all things. I don�t know how you do it. It�s amazing, it really is. And you have no idea how popular it makes you.

I�ve noticed that. The better your ability to babble mindlessly on any given subject, the more people seem to like you. And you have it down to an art form. People like you because they can talk to you, and no matter what they�re talking about you can hold up your end of the conversation and even look interested. I can�t do that. If someone tries to talk to me about something I hate or don�t care about or know nothing about, I just tell them outright. I guess that�s one reason I�m not the socialite you are. Whereas you � you smile and act all enthusiastic even when I know it must be boring you to tears.

So people like you. They talk to you and they ask you out for drinks and some ask you out for dinner. You used to say yes. But now you smile, blush in that pretty way you always do and tell them you�re seeing someone. Then you fall back into the same easy relationship you had before because you�ve got that fucking gift that just makes everyone so comfortable around you. People love that about you. You have this inexplicable ability to just diffuse any situation with a few words and a smile.

I love that about you, too. It�s the only time I�m really grateful for your talent with words. Being with me, it�s a useful talent. Sometimes when I say things I don�t take people�s feelings into account and I wind up saying something rude when all I meant to do was comment or express an opinion. Some people would call me insensitive, and I guess in the strictest sense of the word I am, except I don�t to it on purpose. I just figure that if something wouldn�t offend me then it wouldn�t offend anyone else. Sometimes it�s so hard to remember that I operate on a slightly different wavelength and set of morals to most people. And then of course I�m stuck in an awkward situation having said something I really shouldn�t have and there�s nothing I can do about it �cause there�s no way I�m anywhere near as eloquent as you.

So you step in and save me with your words. You always save me. Mainly from myself, and mainly when you don�t even realise you�re doing it.

***

I think people mistake your easygoing speech for you being easygoing in general. Because they think you are but you�re not. I�ve seen how surprised some of them are to find out you actually worry about things, that there are things you really care about. You cover it up so well. There are a lot of things you cover up, and you rarely let that cover slip. Most people think you�re a likeable, friendly, easygoing guy, and that�s the way you like it, I think. I�m probably the only one who really knows differently.

They don�t think you�re loudmouthed or obnoxious the way they�d think I was if I talked as much as you do. Because if it was me talking it wouldn�t be half as interesting. I only talk when I really have something to say, when it might actually count, because I know most of the time people just talk to fill up the silence and the words themselves mean nothing. When I speak I want there to be a better reason than it got quiet. So you�re more interesting to listen to than me. You make interesting conversation, you give the person you�re with time to speak then you say something interesting about what they just said, and you just hold people�s attention no matter what you�re saying. I guess that�s why I have to agree that it�s a gift, something I�ll never have.

And when whoever you�re with stops talking, somehow you can still keep going. It doesn�t matter if you�re interesting then or not because really you only do it to keep the moment from being awkward. It doesn�t matter what you talk about, and you talk about anything. You say whatever comes to mind, you have a seemingly inexhaustible self-sustaining supply of words stored in your head to chatter out. Aside from your looks, I�d say it what attracts people to you. Because on some level they�re drawn to the fact that with you they�d never have to have an awkward moment, not knowing what to say. You make them feel comfortable and they like that. You�re interesting and you�re fun and you never run out of things to say. That draws people in like a magnet, whether they know it or not. And I know you don�t.

You�ve had a lot of lovers. I don�t know if you know that I know, but I know you have. That�s what got me thinking about you in the first place � not that you�d be experienced because that didn�t matter to me at all. I just found myself asking, if you were really that popular, and if people really liked you that much, shouldn�t you be taken? Shouldn�t you be in a serious relationship or getting engaged or married or something? You�d think so, wouldn�t you. But you weren�t. That�s what got me interested. Because despite the fact you�re damn good-looking and I should admit that just from your looks I would�ve been after you like a shot, usually I wouldn�t go near guys like you. Y�know, young, cheerful, popular. I go for miserable and tortured, something about like attracting like or knowing the type of person I need to be with. But you intrigued me. I needed to find out what it was about you that kept you alone.

***

I can put on an act when I need to, to mask the real me, and that�s what I did to get in closer to you. Some of your friends were suspicious when I started hanging around, suddenly all sweetness and light, but you weren�t. I guessed you hadn�t been around long enough then to know my reputation the way they did. Most people thinking I�m the kind of guy you don�t trust. They�d heard things about me that maybe were and maybe weren�t true, stuff that�s followed me from ECW to WCW and now here, like my preferences, my likes and dislikes, what I liked to do, and they�d decided to keep away from me. And the people who haven�t heard those things usually think I�m strange because I don�t talk a lot. But you didn�t listen to them.

So we hung out. In pretty large groups, with you brother and your friends. We all went out to bars, ate pizza, watched football on hotel room TVs. And I watched you the whole time.

I couldn�t find anything wrong aside from a tendency to talk too much, but I guessed that was just me because no one else seemed to care. I�m usually a pretty good judge of character � hell, I should be by now, I�ve had enough practice � and it seemed like you were a nice, genuine person. And everyone liked you. You were like the heart and soul of the party, making people smile and keeping everyone�s spirits up. I actually started to believe it, too. I was starting to believe that really was who you were.

But then I saw it. Just for s second, but I saw it. There was a lapse in the conversation and I�m pretty sure no one else was paying close enough attention to noticed, but in that moment there was panic in your eyes. You didn�t have anything else to say. Your conversation had run dry. You couldn�t fill the silence and you didn�t know what to do. That was what was wrong with you.

I smiled. This was great. But I couldn�t watch you like that. I just turned to the Canadians and asked them who�d won the hockey match instead. I could see the relief on your face as the conversation picked up. And suddenly, as if nothing had happened, everything was fine again. The panic vanished and you were yourself again.

Except that now I seriously doubted that that was the real you. I�d seen something else in you. And what I�d seen seemed more natural than anything else about you ever had.

***

When I asked you to dinner, alone, and you said yes, my mind started to wander to all those other people you�d been with, men and women. Some of them you�d been with for months, and now you were back to being friends. And all through dinner, as you chattered on mindlessly, I wondered why you�d dated them all. And why you were on a date with me. You didn�t know me and we�d never really talked before, so why were you there? I had no idea.

But as the evening wore on it started to come to me. It was the same reason you seemed to talk non-stop. You were trying to keep everyone happy, to please us all.

You had month-long relationships with people who should probably never have been anything more than friends, just to make them happy. You made interesting conversation even when it bored you just to keep people happy. You talked non-stop and filled uncomfortable silence, and that wasn�t for you. It was for everyone else.

That made me smile. I liked knowing that if you stayed with people and wouldn�t budge until they left you, if all you wanted was to be liked and the way you made sure of that was to do whatever you knew people wanted, then you would be exactly what I�d hoped you�d be. You�d be perfect for me.

Because basically everything that anyone ever says about me is true. I�m not a nice person. I�m into rough sex. I get off on beating people or on having them beat me. Just call me sick. It�s pretty much true. And even if everyone I�ve ever been with was with me willingly, even if they�d all wanted to please me, that was all just because they wanted when I could do for them. I wanted to know what it would be like to be with someone who�d be with me just to make me happy and never expect anything in return. Sounds selfish of me, I know, but that�s what I wanted. I wanted to use you. By dessert I was practically foaming at the mouth waiting to get you back to the hotel.

And eventually I did. And beating on you, fucking you, was every bit as good as I�d expected.

***

We did it like that for weeks and you never complained once. You�ve never complained. You were so good to me. Being with you was so much more than I�d hoped it could be. It made me happier than I could remember being in a long, long time. Feeling your body recoil as my fists connected, feeling your blood on my skin. I could feel your bones underneath the muscle and I knew I was hurting but you just bit down on your lip and took it all. You didn�t look for an apology or an explanation, you just accepted it. I loved that. I couldn�t get enough of it.

But somewhere along the lines it stopped being enough that you let me do it. I�d hurt you however much I felt like hurting you, you�d take it then we�d go to bed and you�d do whatever it took to please me there, too� But it stopped being enough. I wanted you to respond to me, not just do what you thought I wanted. Yeah, so you did it well, but sometimes it wound me up not knowing if you actually enjoyed any of it the least little bit. And what was worse was that I started to analyse you, too. I started to wonder why it was that you wanted to please me. That was a big mistake.

Up until then I hadn�t really thought about it. Because up until then I hadn�t really cared. But suddenly it mattered to me. I had no idea why, but it did. I wanted to know why you were so willing to let a guy you didn�t even really know beat you bloody on a regular basis. So I started asking around.

It was true that you�d never left any of the others. Not that I�d really doubted it, but I found out it was true. And that was the key. I just needed to find out why they�d left you. So I asked around some more, played on some nerves, called in some favours. None of it came to anything. Until I talked to Hunter. I asked him why he�d left you. I actually shuddered when he told me �one day he just had nothing else to say�.

And then everything slipped into place.

***

We�d already been together for just under a month then, when I finally realised what was going on with you. I�d been beating you to a bloody pulp on a bi-weekly basis and fucking you at least twice that often. But then I just couldn�t do it anymore. Because I knew what was wrong with you. And because I�d realised something. You�re just as fucked up as I am, but in a slightly different way. I pretend like I don�t care that I�m alone, even if it feels like the most important thing in the world to me, and I�m alone practically all the time. You � you don�t pretend that you don�t care you�re alone. You make sure you�re not. You�re terrified of it. And you do everything you can to avoid it.

That�s what the talking�s about. And I think it�s all Hunter�s fault. He was the first one you were with when you got here. You were with him for three months, or something like that, from what I can tell. And if he�s anything like I think he is � and I�d bet my life he is � then he told you straight out why he was leaving you. He would�ve told you that you weren�t interesting anymore, that you had nothing else to say. When I realised that I suddenly hated Hunter. He�d done this to you.

I look into your big brown eyes and I think you loved him. I think you were so lonely before you met him, and when you met him you just fell in love. I think you did everything you could for him, everything you knew how to do to make him love you back and not leave you. But he did anyway. It wasn�t enough for him. One day you ran out of things to say to him and you think he left you because of that. I don�t think he did. I think that�s his excuse.

That�s why you�re so eager to please. You�re alone and you don�t want to be. You don�t want anyone to leave you. You want to be liked so you do whatever you think people want. And you want to be loved so that�s the reason for all the lovers. That�s the reason you�re with me. That�s the only reason you ever said yes to me and the only reason you�re still here.

For a start I liked that idea. I knew why you were with me and I knew that would keep you with me. But it�s not enough, you know, and it never will be again. You see, I was looking for someone vulnerable. And you�re vulnerable. I wanted someone who�d let me do anything and everything I wanted to do and never ask for a single thing in return. I found you. You�re everything I wanted you to be. But I made a mistake. I was supposed to keep my distance, use you. I was looking for someone vulnerable but I fell in love.

***

That�s right, I love you. I never meant to, but I do, and it�s fucking killing me. I stopped hurting you. I think you must have wondered why, but you�ve never asked me, and I don�t think I�m ready to tell you. I don�t want to have to tell you. It�s bad enough knowing it�s true without you knowing it too.

I love that you�re so vulnerable. I love that you�d stay with me no matter how bad it got, trying to please me right up until the end. I love that you�re trying so hard not to lose me even though you don�t really feel anything for me. It hurts like hell to know it, but I love it. You�d do anything for me and you probably don�t even like me. I think maybe that�s why I love you.

You saved me from myself and you don�t even know it. Just being you and just being as fucked up as you are saved me, because that�s what I fell in love with and the moment I really knew how I felt I knew I couldn�t hurt you anymore. Suddenly I couldn�t understand why I�d ever hurt anyone. I thought I didn�t have a conscience, but you proved me wrong. I thought I was never going to care for anyone, but you proved me wrong there, too. I love that you�ve showed me I�m not quite as sick as I thought.

I just need to show you that you�re not as sick as I think you are. I need to make everything okay for you like you did for me. I want to make you better and I want you to feel something for me too.

�Just shut up for a second�, I say, and you smile. I get up from where I�m sitting across the table from you and I walk around it slowly, watching the expression on your face. You�re smiling but you have no idea what I�m doing and I can see you�re nervous. You need to know that you don�t have to be.

I take hold of your wrist and urge you to your feet. And then you�re standing in front of me, looking like you�re about to slip into a panic attack. I know you think I�m going to leave you. I know you think that you�re not keeping me interested. You need to know that you don�t have to be interesting all the time.

So I kiss you. Your lips feel so soft and I can feel that you�re surprised, but you kiss back. It�s not passionate but it�s not goodbye. It�s I love you. And as I draw back and pull you into my arms so I�m just holding you there, not trying to hurt you or take you over to the bed, I think that you might know that. Maybe you know that I love you.

Maybe you know that I�m not with you because you�re interesting every second of every day. Maybe you know that I don�t want you to be all compliant and do every little thing I ask or I want. Maybe you know I�m not with you for the talk, and maybe you know I�m with you for this. I�m with you for who you are when you�re silent.

***

So we�re standing here in this hotel room, standing next to the table and you�re holding me just like I�m holding you. You�re not trying to speak. And you�re not panicking either. You�re just breathing and holding me. You�re just being silent.

And that�s all I want. Just like you think that the only way to keep me is to keep me interested 24/7, I think this is the only way I can really keep you. Because I don�t want a slave, I want you. I want who you really are, who you are when you have nothing to say. I want to be with you. And I think maybe if I show you that it�s okay for you to be yourself and it�s okay for you to want things and sometimes just not speak, sometimes not have to fill up every moment, maybe you�ll learn to love me too.

Because words are meaningless. When it comes down to it, all that matters is feeling. I want to show you that words aren�t necessary. I want to show you that all I ever wanted and all I�ll ever need is right here and right now. You don�t have to impress me. And you don�t have to try to interest me. You do that even when you�re not speaking.

But I can�t show you all that now. I�m going to, even if it kills me, because I want to save you the way you�ve saved me. But right now all I can do is stand here holding you, feeling you holding me right back� and enjoy the silence.

***
End
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