Title: Sleepless
Author: Lizzie
E-mail: [email protected]
Rating: I�m gonna say NC-17 to be safe.
Content: A little violence, a little strong language, a little non-con m/m sex, and I think that�s it.
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.
Distribution: Not that you're likely to want it, but if you do, just tell me where.
Summary: Do I really have to summarise this? Argh! The reason for Kurt�s sleepless nights � there, my crummiest summary ever.

***
Sleepless
***

I used to lay awake every night, and it didn�t matter where I was �cause I could be anywhere and I�d still be terrified. For the longest time I didn�t even know why I was scared, I�d just lie there under the sheets, tucking them up to my chin, feeling this sort of nameless dread deep down in the pit of my stomach. It�s that sort of dread that�s completely inexplicable, that sneaks up on you �til suddenly there�s this dull fear eating at you and you don�t know why. It�s foreboding. It�s so intense you have to wonder if it�s premonition. But more often than not it just wears off and leaves you wondering if you ever really felt that way in the first place, feeling vaguely ridiculous.

At least that�s the way it was in the beginning. I�d lie awake, still, staring anxiously at the ceiling or where I knew the ceiling would be if the room wasn�t pitch black, waiting for something to happen. I didn�t even know what I was waiting for, or why it made me so anxious, but I knew I was waiting. One night something was going to happen, I just knew it. It was inevitable. There was absolutely nothing I could do to prevent it. I knew it every night � id didn�t matter that the morning after I�d wake up feeling even more ridiculous for thinking it again, because at night I knew. At night I was just as sure of it as I was my own name.

I went on like that for just over two whole months, and by the end of it I was about ready to concede defeat and go book an appointment with a psychologist or something. It seriously felt like I was going insane. I just don�t know how else to explain it other than that. I�d wake up every morning feeling like I was slowly losing my mind. I mean, every single night I was convinced something awful was going to happen and I couldn�t even put a name to what it was. I couldn�t believe that was normal. I really was just about ready to put myself into therapy. And then something happened to change my mind.

There was a knock at the door. I looked over at the glowing red numbers on the clock on the nightstand; it was 2am. Then I wondered if I�d really heard it. I couldn�t decide if I�d been asleep and dreamt it or if maybe it was someone knocking on the door across the hall or next door or whatever. I held my breath and listened and heard nothing. So I just lay there frowning, still feeling that same sense of dread. It wouldn�t go away and I couldn�t shake it off. I was just terrified and I had no idea why.

Then it happened again, and this time I couldn�t deny it. There was something knocking on my door. I wasn�t really sure what I was supposed to do �cause it wasn�t like I�d ever had someone knock on the door of my hotel room at 2am before, so for a few seconds I just lay there thinking. There were all these crazy scenarios running through my head, like maybe someone had died and they needed my to identify the body or somehow someone had got a hold of my room number and wanted to punch my lights out, but eventually, after what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably more like a minute or even just thirty seconds, I got out of bed and walked over to the door.

My hand was actually shaking when I reached for the handle, cursing the hotel management for not having those spyhole things fitted on the doors. I fumbled with the lock for a second, realising I wasn�t entirely sure how to open it and wondering why I was even thinking about opening the door to God-knows-who that late or that early and in my underwear. But for some reason that thought didn�t even slow me down for a second. I unlocked the door and swung it back into the room.

�What? Why, uh, Hunter?� He just smirked, gave me this little amused look and pushed past me into the room.

Surprised wasn�t the word. Shocked wasn�t either. Because really I wasn�t surprised and I wasn�t shocked, I was just sort of confused. And as I closed the door behind him I realised I wasn�t even confused anymore. I�d been expecting him.

�You�re not surprised to see me�, he said, flicking on the lamp at the side of the bed. I shook my head as he stood there at the other side of the bed, looking me over with that smirk still on his face. �Good. That�s makes this easier. Do you know why I�m here, Kurt?� I shook my head again. I wasn�t sure whether I really didn�t know or if I just didn�t want to admit I did. �Well, that�s a shame. I guess I�ll just have to show you, won�t I�.

He pulled off the black t-shirt he was wearing and tossed it into a chair, then tugged the tie from his hair, letting it fall down around his shoulders. There was a part of me that was shocked but mostly I knew I�d been expecting it. And I didn�t hesitate for a second when he beckoned to me with one crooked finger. I just walked straight across the room, straight over to him. There was nothing I could do to stop myself. Because I�d realised this was what I�d been waiting for all along.

***

Everyone was all concerned when I turned up at the arena the next day with a split lip and a black eye. I just had to tell them I�d got into a fight and watch Hunter smirk at me over his drink. I know no one believed me but what was I supposed to tell them? That Hunter had come to my room, beaten and fucked me? I�m not saying they wouldn�t have believed me, but how could I say that? I just knew I�d rather leave them all wondering what happened to me then have them know the truth. I was too ashamed to tell anyone.

Ashamed. I was ashamed. Rationally I knew I had nothing to be ashamed of, �cause it wasn�t like I�d invited him in and told him �yeah, Hunter, please beat me�. He just did it. Not that I expected him to stop and ask permission � I know I would have been completely freaked out if he had. I probably would�ve told him yes, too, �cause how do you say no to someone who asks if it�s okay to beat you?

Aside from the smirking and a few long, uncomfortable glances, he ignored me. He didn�t speak to me and I guess I didn�t expect him to. Or maybe I did, because when he passed me in the corridor and didn�t say a word I was kinda surprised. He just plain ignored me. I wasn�t ready for that. I thought he�d take a second to gloat at least. But he didn�t. He just walked past me and left me staring after him. I couldn�t stop staring after him. It didn�t matter that I hated him for what he�d done, for some reason I needed him to acknowledge me, and when he didn�t I just felt cold. I�ll never figure that out.

That was the exact same way he treated me all day. A couple of times I caught him watching me, but I was the one who looked away first every time. I couldn�t meet his eyes for more than a few seconds without feeling my face getting warm and wishing the ground would just open up and swallow me. Not that that was anything new, �cause he�d always made me feel that way. It just felt ten times worse after what he�d done. I felt like I wanted to die.

The only time I managed to get him out of my head for s second all day was during my match, and even then it really was only for a second. Then I wondered how I�d managed to forget and I wound up taking out a whole lot of frustration on Benoit. Then I felt bad and spent half an hour apologising to him, looking like a complete ass the whole time. Babbling like an idiot to my ex while all the time I was thinking about Hunter and what he�d done and how mad he must�ve gotten me to have me take it out on Chris like that, someone I counted as a friend and knew pretty damn well. He was the kinda guy I should�ve been sitting down and spilling out everything that had happened, not taking out my frustrations. It was unbelievable how guilty I felt.

Then I went back to the hotel, took a shower, and when I saw myself in the mirror I just stood there staring for what must have been fifteen minutes. My eye looked terrible. He�d bruised it just below and against my nose, and it was this ugly black-purple, and it hurt like heck when I touched it. My lip didn�t feel much better, either � it was swollen and red, and the split was scabbed over so every time I licked it, it felt like it was gonna split wide open again. I looked a mess. He�d made me that way.

I towelled off and I went to bed. And as I lay there, I just felt sick. I turned off the light and I just felt sick. Because I knew what was going to happen, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The dread I felt was no longer nameless. I knew what I was waiting for, what I�d been waiting for those past two and a half months. My dread had a name, and that name was Hunter.

It had a face, too, with eyes and a smirking mouth and long blonde hair. It had a body, heavier than mine, bigger, probably stronger. It had hands with fingers that left bruises on my wrists where they�d gripped. It had teeth that grazed the back of my neck and other parts that got forced deep inside me. And it had a taste that was still in my mouth.

I didn�t know whether he�d be coming back, whether that had been the only time or just the first, but I knew I�d be waiting anyway. I didn�t have a choice.

***

He came. At 2am he let himself in and I watched him walk over to me, this smile on his face that made me shudder. He pulled off his clothes and dropped them in a pile at his feet. Then he turned on the lamp, pulled back the sheets and lay down beside me. He smiled again and stroked the pad of his thumb over the bruise under my eye, chuckling when I winced. Then he was on top of me, naked and astride my hips, the lamplight shining in his hair and in his eyes making him look almost feline. He was still smiling when he hit me.

He beat me black and blue and bloody then fucked me �til I screamed. And then he left, and I just lay there bleeding on my bed, wondering why I hadn�t done a single thing to stop it. I hadn�t said no. I hadn�t said anything. I just let him do it. I let him hit me �til my bruised eye swelled shut, �til he�d opened up my forehead and my chin, �til it hurt just to breathe, �til I could taste blood in my mouth. Then I lay there, just lay there, bleeding into my pillow, breathing and feeling the pain in my bruised ribs. I felt like such a fool. I felt so used, or abused, whatever you want to call it.

And that wasn�t the last time he did it. I worked out somewhere along the line that he was never going to stop, and that feeling I got every night was never going to go away. It wasn�t any better now I knew why I felt that way, either. You�d think it would be, right? I�d spent two whole months thinking I was losing my mind and then I realised that there was a reason I felt that way after all. A pretty darn good reason, too � there was this huge guy who came to my room almost every night, sometimes beat me and regularly raped me. That�s as good a reason as there ever will be to feel that way. But it didn�t make me feel any better. If anything it made me feel worse. I knew I had a reason to be afraid.

I soon figured out that there was nowhere I could go to be safe from him, �cause he found me wherever I was. He always came for me. So I stopped running from him, not that I ever really ran in the first place. I just made it so he�d always be able to find me, �cause that way he was there sooner and it was over quicker. Making myself hard to find was completely pointless �cause all it did was just delay the inevitable. Getting it over with meant I got some sleep at least. Otherwise I�d be lying there all night waiting for him to turn up.

It�s funny how you can learn to sleep even while you�re in pain that under normal circumstances would have you writhing in agony. Okay, so maybe funny is slightly the wrong word, but it�s strange. It�s strange what you can learn to deal with. I mean, at least part of me got used to the fact that I was being raped and beaten on an almost nightly basis. I got used to lying awake in bed waiting for it, too. I never thought that was possible, �cause it just shouldn�t be. There are some things you shouldn�t be able to get used to, like war and death and non-consensual sex. But I did. Don�t get me wrong, it didn�t feel like it while he was doing it. While he was inside me all I wanted to do was cry, and it never got better. But afterwards it didn�t feel so bad. Like I said, I got used to it.

And I got used to him ignoring me. After the first couple of weeks I was ignoring him too. I�d see him in locker rooms and in hotel lobbies and I�d pass him in corridors and I wouldn�t feel a thing. He�d separated work from what he did to me after, and so did I. Well, mostly. Sometimes I guess I�d sit there and I�d look up at him and wonder what the hell he thought he was doing to me, just how sick he was to do it and keep doing it, but mostly I managed to convince myself that it didn�t matter what he thought. He did it and that was that. I knew there was no escaping it so there was no point dwelling on the whys. I was completely disgusted with myself, but that was the way it was going to have to be because I realised I�d accepted it.

Except then one night as we were all leaving an arena somewhere he grabbed me and in some secluded corner of the parking lot, in the back of his rental car in an impossibly small space, he fucked me. And the next day he caught up with me in my locker room and he fucked me there too. I had no idea what I was supposed to do or how I was supposed to feel, �cause I thought we�d got some sort of boundary and he�d crossed it. He�d smashed it to pieces and smashed me to pieces in the process. By the time two months had passed since that first night, I was falling apart. All I knew was that he�d screwed up my life and I was never going to be the same again. He just made my life unbearable.

Then about a month ago things changed. Dramatically.

***

I�d lain awake in my hotel room since eleven o�clock, just staring at the crack of light I could see under the door. The alarm clock on the nightstand told me in numbers bright in the dark that they made my eyes hurt that it was 2:33am. He was late. That just made the feeling worse. Maybe he wasn�t coming. Maybe he was and I just didn�t know it yet. I hate that feeling, the not knowing. It�s worse than anything he�s ever done to me, not knowing whether he�s gonna turn up and do it at all.

But then he was there. He walked in and closed the door behind him, stripped, let down his hair, turned on the lamp and got into bed just the way he always did. He told me he was sorry he was late but he�d had a phone call that had gone on a while longer than he�d expected. He said it like he was actually sorry, too, like maybe I cared why he was late. I guess I did, just a little, but I didn�t need him acting like I did. That just made me cringe.

I didn�t say anything and I don�t think he expected to. We never did much talking. After all, that wasn�t what it was about. If he�d wanted to talk then he would�ve asked me out to dinner or something, but he hadn�t and really considering who this was I can�t say I�d expect that. He�s a physical guy, it�s just the way he is. He can talk when he needs to or when he wants to, and he�s a great talker, but mostly he�s just physical. It�s got him where he is today, he�s got no reason to change.

He didn�t hit me that night. Sometimes he doesn�t, and that�s fine by me if he doesn�t want to. I guess sometimes he just doesn�t feel like he needs to, or he thinks he�s already done enough damage. He�s kinda careful like that, �cause people are already suspicious enough about what�s going on with me without me turning up bruised from head to foot. Usually he doesn�t do too much, unless he knows I�m gonna have time to heal between shows, and what he does do is usually pretty easily covered. And that night I guess I was already pretty beat up so he left me alone.

He just fucked me instead. First with his fingers, hard and fast and lubed with something I think was probably baby oil. He�s used some twisted things, sometimes he doesn�t use anything at all, but that night I think it was baby oil. I don�t even know where it came from �cause I know I didn�t have any and when he came in he was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt and I think I would�ve noticed a bottle of oil on him. Anyway, that doesn�t matter. He just thrust two fingers inside me and started thrusting hard and fast, just like he always does. And it gets a reaction out of me every time, in spite of myself. I hate how he can do that. It shouldn�t feel good and sometimes it doesn�t but mostly it does and he knows just how to make it so I can�t help but love it.

The weight of his body�s enough to pin me to the bed so really I can�t move. And when he�s got my calves pulled up onto his shoulders and he�s looming over me that just makes it even harder. He replaced his fingers and just pounded into me, painfully hard, fast, but with long strokes like shouldn�t be possible. He just stared down into my eyes, his hair hanging around his face and clinging to his forehead, the strangest look his face. He was smiling. He was smiling as I came all over his stomach, as he came inside of me, throwing his head back and arching into me just once more before he took a deep breath and fell down onto the bed beside me.

After he�d finished I used to just close my eyes and wait for him to leave, but that night something made me open them again and look over at him. He was looking at me. He had his head propped up on his hand and he was looking at me. And I had to wonder if that was what he did every time. Then he reached over and brushed something from my shoulder, his touch making me flinch. He just smiled, an actual smile and not that damned smirk, and brushed his fingertips over my cheek.

I couldn�t help it, I shuddered. And the next thing I knew he was right next to me, the whole length of his body pressed against me, his lips on mine. He kissed me. Softly at first, but then it was hard kinda brutal and when he finally drew back, shifted himself back to his side of the bed, I was breathless. He took my breath away.

�Why do you do this to me?� I asked before I knew I was even thinking of asking. And I regretted it the moment it left my mouth. I do that a lot. I say things I don�t mean to say at the exact moment I don�t mean to say them. It�s like my special gift in life or something. But the small smile on his face didn�t waver for a second. He just lay back and shrugged.

�Because I love you�, he said. I blinked at him. You know, the sort of blinking that makes you look like a complete idiot but you can�t do anything about it �cause you�re so shocked? It was that kinda blinking. �Cause I couldn�t believe what he�d just said. But he had.

�You�re what? You� what?�

�I love you�, he said, turning, getting up off the bed and starting to pull on his clothes. He tied his hair back and pulled on his t-shirt, buckled his belt, tied his boots, picked up his jacket. I just lay there watching him do it, this frown tacked to my face. �And you can�t say you don�t feel the same way, Kurt�.

�I what? You think I love you?!� I asked, incredulous. �Are you insane? Hunter, you beat me and rape me every other night of my life and you think I love you for that? Have you lost your fucking mind?�

He shook his head slowly, tilting it to one side as he turned back to face me, standing right next to the door he�d just opened. The look on his face was just so strange. I�d never seen him look that way. It was like maybe he really did love me. And he really did.

�No, Kurt�, he said. �Think about it. If you don�t want this, why don�t you tell me no? Why haven�t you had me thrown in jail? How come you keep making excuses to the hotel staff when someone complains? You wouldn�t do that if you didn�t want this�. He pulled the door open a little further, turning, looking back at me over his shoulder. �And Kurt? If you don�t want this, why do you leave the door unlocked?�

He left the room, closed the door behind him and I just sat there feeling my whole body go cold.

***

I turned off the light and I lay back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling like I always did. But there was something different about that night. I was confused. But only for a moment because then it dawned on me and suddenly I felt like a complete fool. Because you know what? He wasn�t wrong. I really wanted him to be, I wanted him to be lying so much it hurt, but he wasn�t. He�d just told me the truth. He knew what I was feeling better than I did.

I never once told him no, and really that should�ve been my first clue. I should�ve kicked and screamed and made sure he knew I wasn�t into what he was doing in the slightest. But I didn�t, not once in all the time he�d been doing it. Not even when he hit me. I just let him do it.

And he was right, I�d never told anyone. If I�d really wanted to then I could�ve had him in jail in the blink of an eye. I never even told my friends. I didn�t tell anyone. I just kept it to myself and waited for the next time.

He was right about the hotel staff, too. Almost every time he came to my room someone in the next room or across the hall or above or below complained about the noise, and I made some sort of dumb excuse like I was working out or I�d cut myself shaving or I�d had an accident or I�d had a friend with me and we hadn�t realised how much noise we were making. Although with the noise we made I�ll never understand how no one called the police. Most of the time I must�ve sounded like I was being beaten to death. And most of the time that�s what it felt like.

But he wasn�t wrong. Even if that�s the way it felt, like he was killing me, he wasn�t wrong.

I�d fallen for him and I hadn�t even known it. I�d fallen for him completely in spite of myself. I think maybe I�d loved him all along.

I left the bed, I pulled on whatever it was I�d taken off the night before and I left the room. I locked the door and smiled to myself � he was right about that, too. Ever since that first night I�d left the door open, for him.

I walked down the hall, found the right number, turned the handle and stepped inside. Hunter smiled up at me from the bed as I stripped and slipped in between the sheets, feeling his arms slip around my waist.

�What took you so long?� he asked, his lips by my throat, nuzzling my neck, stubble rasping against my skin. I sighed, smiling, enjoying the feel of his arms around me. I felt so safe. Strange really, considering who I was with. And I felt so loved. I had no doubts anymore. He really did love me.

�I guess I just needed a while to realise what a jackass I�ve been�, I told him. �You know I love you, right?�

He nodded against my shoulder. �Yeah, Kurt, I know�.

And he didn�t say anything else. He just held me, and we just went to sleep.

***

I do love him. I guess I always have in a way, since even before he came to me that first night. I loved the way he watched me, how I�d feel his eyes on me wherever I went. That�s how I knew what was going to happen, that he was going to come to me. There was no way that was just an idle attraction � a guy like Hunter would have to act on it. Especially with the way I was looking back.

And I know why I felt that dread, so maybe it�s not so inexplicable after all. I just never wanted to believe that I could want it. I had myself convinced that I didn�t. I could see what he was going to do and somewhere deep down inside I knew I wanted him to do it but I couldn�t let myself believe that. Because what would that have made me? I was convinced it was wrong. Everything told me it was wrong to want him like that. So I dreaded it.

I just can�t believe that it took him actually spelling it out for me to understand how I really felt. I guess I�m dumber than I like to think.

But that doesn�t matter anymore, because now I know. And it makes sense. Every night I wait for him, wait for what he�ll do to me. And it�s not dread I feel but anticipation. He comes to the room and he does exactly what he wants to me, and I want it too. The only difference is that once he�s there he doesn�t leave. The morning after I wake up in his arms and I know it�s right. I know we�re in love. And who cares if it�s wrong. Just because what I like him to do is a little bit harmful that doesn�t mean this isn�t love. Everything we do is a little bit painful, a little bit different. That just makes me love him more.

Maybe it�s twisted and just maybe it�s wrong, but neither one of us cares �cause all that matters is that we make each other happy. I�ve never been this happy and I know he feels the same. What we have is perfect. What we have is so intense it�s overwhelming and so tender it�s heartbreaking. I love him so much it hurts. Literally.

And who knows, maybe one day he�ll be the one lying there waiting for me. Maybe he�ll feel dread the same way I did. And if he does, I�ll just have to show him he doesn�t have to be afraid of me. I�ll just have to show him that I love him just as much as he loves me.

***
End
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