Chapter Text
Some time in 2003
Somewhere on the Road
“He'll take whatever you give him so if you want it he's all yours, but he fucks like a champion. His cock’s guaranteed to satisfy, gifted in every way a man can be isn’t that right, kid?”*
He told him he'd shape him into a diamond, body and mind, priceless and coveted but all his.
All his.
“That’s right.”
He’s so fucked up he can’t even lift his head or open his eyes, but someone’s kissing his neck, kissing his jaw, kissing his mouth so he kisses him back, his mouth moving on its own. Practiced and precise, he moves his lips against him, tasting the liquor on his tongue, breathing hot against his skin-
He’s kissing down his chest now, he can feel the man’s stubble rough against his bare skin as he drags his tongue over him leaving a cool wet trail in its wake, and then there’s a hand on his cock, palming him through his slacks and he can’t help the moan he breathes out as his body responds to the touch. His head’s spinning. He can hear voices all around him, pounding music, the bright blue lighting inside the limo burning through his eyelids, creating kaleidoscopic shapes swimming in his vision as he rests his head against the back of the seat.
There’s a mouth on him now, sucking him down, he can’t lift his arms, he can’t do anything but sit there, melted into the seat as he has his way with him, as he gets his fill of him in front of everyone. An appetizer, a taste of what he paid for in advance.
Selling himself is nothing new to him, it was just another way for the guys to make some extra cash after shows to pay for gear and rent when they were making just a couple hundred a week if they were lucky, he’d been doing it since OVW. Only women at first but then things changed and he was going back to rooms or parked cars with anyone who was willing to pay for some time with a beautiful young fit body. He was good at it. He still is. A natural. Hunter and Ric tell him all the time.
Champagne and caviar, expensive rooms, expensive suits, beautiful cars and fast women. Luxury. Prestige. That’s the lifestyle that comes with being with Hunter's protege. A lifestyle completely foreign to a guy like him who was living in his folk’s basement and working night shifts at a gas station only a couple short years ago. A lifestyle he could have only ever dreamed of then, and if he wants to keep it he has to earn it. He has to do his part.
You’re destined for the top, kid, he told him, and I can take you there.
Let me take care of you.
If it’s not entertaining themselves with the beautiful, eager, young women in the VIP lounges of exclusive clubs across the country- licking champagne off a perfect set of tits, off the curve of a beautiful, perky ass- getting hard in his slacks as they dance on him- making them moan so prettily with his fingers as the guys watch, as they encourage him. He loses himself in those women, for a few hours after shows he’s the Man. The lingering pain doesn’t feel so bad tucked into those booths, the pressure, all he has to think about is the soft, smooth skin under his hands, the lip gloss against his lips, the sweet perfume, the soft hair to bury his hands in as he kisses them, how wet they get for him. Pure pleasure.
If it’s not taking them back to his room to fuck them- to do whatever he wants with them- they always do whatever he wants- one, two, sometimes three- more- a night. He’s young and hot with nothing but stamina and an insatiable hunger. It’s power. The kind of power he always wanted. While his faithful girlfriend waits for him at home.
If it’s not that, it’s WWE Legends and executives, business men and politicians with money and influence, men and women Hunter sees as important connections for his career. People to impress, people to please.
He wants to be the best.
And Hunter tells him he’s the best there is.
Fucking and sucking his dad's old friends, his old enemies, guys who knew him as a kid, guys who watched him grow up. He’s happy to do it. He always wanted to feel special. He always wanted their praise. Their admiration. He always wanted to be the favorite. He always wanted to be wanted.
His beautiful prize stud, that’s what he called him.
The only problem is it’s not as easy as it used to be anymore.
He's in another limo after another night out at a club after another Monday Night RAW in another city. These nights are always the same. The sharp smell of polished leather and cigar smoke and champagne and five, six, sometimes seven different colognes stinging his nose, giving him a headache as he tries to sit up straight and stay awake to play his part when all he wants is to curl against the person next to him, whoever it is this time, and pass out. He's so fucking tired, out of it, he can barely keep his eyes open but he keeps smiling, he keeps nodding along to the conversation even if he has no idea what they're saying anymore. He wants to pass out but he can't, not yet, not if he wants to keep Hunter happy.
I make champions, he told him, I’ve broken stallions wilder than you. They always stop fighting and you will too.
Hunter's got his arm around his shoulder, firm hand wrapped around the back of his neck, warm and grounding, squeezing just enough to keep him upright as he runs his thumb against his skin affectionately, telling him he's doing a good job. He wants to learn into the touch, he wants Hunter to take him back to his room and fuck him instead. Sometimes when he’s fucked up like this Hunter will let him crawl into his lap, sometimes he'll hold him, tell him he's proud of him as he nuzzles his neck, it's what he needs right now but tonight isn't one of those times, this isn't about the two of them, this is about Randy and the man sitting across from them laughing loudly at whatever Hunter and Ric just said.
Alone in the suite’s main bedroom he stands there and lets the man undress him, touch him, hands roaming his body while the rest of them wait outside. He wants it from behind, seems like theses guys always like it when he fucks them like a dog. Rough and impersonal, shoving their faces into the mattress as he pounds into them, physically overpowering them with his impressive size and strength as they cry and whine and beg him for more. He holds them down and calls them faggot and sissy and queer, all the things guys called him growing up as he forces them to take his cock. He takes it all out on them, all the anger, all the pain, the more viscous the better and afterward they thank him for it.
Other times they want to fuck him. Those guys like him restrained and exposed, unable to fight back as they live out their fantasy of overpowering a younger, bigger, stronger body full of testosterone and raw sexual intensity. An up and coming WWE Superstar, the most gifted natural the business has ever seen, a perfect specimen of masculinity laid out for them to ravish.
He plays his part.
He’s just a body. A big cock, a tight hole, impressively strong and incredibly flexible. A pretty face. He’s just a body. Just there to be sexually aggressive and dominant even when he’s the one taking it. To fulfill their fantasies. To put on a show. To make them feel weak, to make them feel strong. To make them feel powerful either way. It’s what they want from him, women and men alike. It’s what he’s good at.
Sometimes they like it when he’s fucked up. Sometimes they even pay more when he passes out. Sometimes they-
He comes to with Hunter repeating his name through the darkness as he slaps his cheek to wake him.
“Go get him cleaned up,” he says as they hover over him.
As Dave hauls him off the bed he catches a blurred glimpse of the man he’s supposed to be fucking standing next to Hunter wrapped in a white robe, arms crossed as he shakes his head while Hunter does damage control.
It’s not usually this bad.
Dave’s rubbing his back in soothing circles as he throws up again in the toilet, throat raw, cold tile against his sore, bruised knees.
He sells his body for their entertainment and connections, and Dave cleans up the mess.
“Hey, it’s okay, kid,” Hunter says as he pats his cheek again, this time he can’t help but lean into the touch. “Hey, look at me.” His head’s still spinning- he doesn’t look mad. “That guy’s a prick anyway but we can’t let him down, can we? We owe him.”
Dave’s scrubbing him clean under the cool spray of the shower. He closes his eyes, letting his head drop back, melting into the feeling of it on his sensitive skin. It helps wake him up.
He’s alone in the bathroom now trying to get himself hard again. He’s wrapping his fist in a towel and punching the tiled wall as hard as he can. Can’t show up to work on Friday with a broken hand. He yells out in frustration- in pain as he punches the tiles again- then Dave’s coming through the door again. He’s unwrapping his hand. He’s checking him over. He’s taking care of him. He always does.
"Listen, you know I hate that he makes you do this," he says quietly as he cups his face and makes him look at him, "but you gotta get it together, man. We need this group-"
"I can't get hard," he chokes out, cutting him off, fighting back frustrated tears as he leans against the counter for support. "I can't fucking get hard, man."
"Shit," he breathes out as he looks him over for a moment. "Okay, c'mere-" He turns the lock on the door and steps into his space- Dave's hands are warm and firm as he jerks him off, they always are, but his mouth is even better.
He can't help it, he's so desperate for some real affection he leans in and kisses him- Dave kisses him back, he always does. Just a taste before turning his head to give Randy his jaw instead. “Don’t,” he says quietly, his hand still working him over, “not now, they’re waiting on you.” Without another word Dave drops to his knees at his feet and takes him into his mouth instead. He drops his head back again, closing his eyes and breathing out a soft moan as he grips his head, pushing his fingers through his short hair as he works him over, taking him deep.
He just wants this. He just wants to cum down Dave’s throat and fall asleep next to him, or Hunter- he just wants- fuck-
“Arlight,” he says as he pulls off him, his lips shining as he looks up at him, “come on, let’s get it over with.” He wipes his mouth on his hand as he gets back to his feet. “Put on a good show out there, baby boy,” he tells him as he squeezes his shoulder, “it’ll be over soon.”
So he nods back.
“Hey, Dave,” he says, reaching out to stop him before he leaves the bathroom, “can I get a bump?” He rubs the back of his neck as Dave turns to face him again. “Just so I can stay awake.” He’s supposed to ask Hunter or Ric, they both know it, but Dave lets out a deep sigh as he looks him over.
“Yeah, okay,” he says finally as he reaches into his pocket.
He walks back out of the bathroom wiping his nose, euphoric and buzzing and ready to earn his keep. Hunter gets off the couch to meet him. “Don’t fuck this up,” he warns as he cups his cheek gently. “Just hold him down and pound his ass, you know how these guys like it,” he says as he leans in, “make him feel like you’re forcing him to take it-” He runs his fingers up the underside of his cock, hard and ready, sending a shiver of warmth through his gut as he takes in a shuddering breath- “and we’ll all leave happy.”
“Yeah,” he says with a nod, “I know. I’m good.”
“I’m proud of you, kid.”
There’s never been another like you, he told him, a one in a million talent.
I’ll take care of you.
He does his job. He fucks the guy on his knees like he wants, sweat pouring down his overheated body- his spinning head- the rhythmic sound of his hips slapping against the man’s ass filling the quiet room- pushing whimpers out of him with each sharp thrust into him. Quick and rough and dirty.
Just how they like it.
2003
Somewhere Else
"You saw his body out there tonight, he's a stud," Hunter says with a proud smile as he pats him on the back. He reaches down to grab a handful of him through his slacks. "He's got a nice, big cock on him and he can keep going for hours if you want him to take you for a ride.” Hunter's rubbing him now- "Get it out, let him see what you’ve got for him."
He does what he’s told and unzips his slacks to push them down off his hips. He stands there, thick half hard cock on display as he strokes himself slowly, numb to the eyes looking him over.
“But he'll take whatever you give him if you're into something else, right kid?"
"That's right." He licks his lips and tips his chin up as he gives their client for the night his best cocky smile. It’s about selling the fantasy. It’s about playing his part. Biting his lip, licking them, giving the man his most convincing smile even if it turns his stomach to look at him knowing what he's going to have to do that night. He’s their show pony, their beautiful, young, hung show pony. He doesn't want to have sex with the men Hunter parades him out to, but he does it. He does it for Hunter because he loves him, he does it for his career because he loves it too. He does it because this is what he's good at, this is what makes him valuable as a member of Evolution. It’s what makes him valuable as a man.
“Show him what you can do, baby.”
You’re the future of the business, he told him, I’ll make you a star.
I’ll take care of you.
I’ll take care of you.