Actions

Work Header

Blurred Lines

Chapter Text



 

 

Eddie glanced at Chris, watching the Canadian packed up the clothes. They had to leave the hotel before 2:30, otherwise they will miss their flight. It was already 2:15. His face reddened slightly when Benoit bent down. Damn his obsession with asses. He didn't know why he felt this way towards Chris. He was 35 for pete's sake. Men his age don't have a crush. But he couldn't deny the truth, not after the past several months. He couldn't deny the fact that he was falling for his best friend.

 

He tried to remember just when it was when he started feeling like this. It was probably that one of the matches they've had a week ago or so. He never felt uneasy when he was in the ring with Chris. They knew each other well. Twelve years of rooming and wrestling together did that to a person.

 

"You okay?"

 

The soft question made him jump. "Ah, sí. I'm fine. Just thinking," he murmured, smiling at the Canadian.

 

Benoit studied the younger wrestler, sensing there was more than what the latino was telling him. "What is it?" he persisted.

 

"Um. It's just. Uh.." Eddie stammered, stumbling over his words.

 

Chris' face etched with worry. He never saw this nervous, fumbling side of his friend before. "What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing. It's estupido. Just forget about it," Eddie muttered, turning around, planning to leave and hang around outside the hotel. Hopefully the fresh air will clear his head.

 

Benoit glared and wrapped his arms around the slim waist, pulling the SmackDown wrestler back. "Hey!"

 

"Let me go!"

 

"Not till you tell me what's bugging you."

 

"Kiss ... my ... ass!" Eddie snapped out the words, straining from the solid grip Chris had on him. Then he was jerked backwards again and crashed into Benoit, the both of them falling to the ground.

 

After several minutes of fighting, Chris had Eddie pinned to the floor. "Gotcha," he panted.

 

Eddie buried his face on the carpet. "You're not making this any easier, bastardo,” he mumbled.

 

Benoit ignored the muffled comment. "Now will you tell me what's wrong? Don't lie your way out of this, be clear," he growled. His friend had the uncanny habit of omitting details whenever he got like this.

 

Eddie sighed. There was no escaping from this. "I hope this doesn't ruin our friendship."

 

"Spit it out," Chris grumbled.

 

"I think you're hot as hell and we should have sex. That clear enough for you? Feliz ahora?"

 

Benoit gaped and then closed his mouth, blinking. He climbed off of his friend. "Wow, that's, um.."

 

Eddie sat up, blushing. He glanced at the RAW wrestler. The other man seemed to be shell-shocked. He bit on his lips, suddenly wanting to take back his words.

 

"I -" Chris started to say when the latino interrupted him.

 

"Geez. You should have seen the look on your face! You're so gullible. It was a joke, ese. I can't believe you fell for it," Eddie laughed, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

 

"Huh?" Chris flustered, becoming upset.

 

"That was funny. I really should quit my job as a wrestler and become an actor. It's not so easy, papi. Having so many talents can be a pain," Eddie drawled carelessly, then the collar of his shirt was suddenly grabbed.

 

"Goddammit, Eddie!" Benoit cursed, "Are you honestly kidding or is there something else going on here?! I don't even know what to -" his snarl was cut off as Eddie's lips suddenly covered his own. He stilled briefly before pushing back, plowing into his friend's mouth, his hand curving around the other man's ass. He reluctantly broke off, catching his breath and appreciating the flushed face beneath him. "You really want this?" he murmured, slipping his other hand inside the pants.

 

Eddie smirked. "More than you think," he replied lazily. "I just like teasing you," he brushed his fingers over the Canadian's groin, earning a twitch.

 

"You're an ass," Chris growled, leaning in and pushing the other man's shirt up.

 

"Takes one to know one. How can I resist with a face like yours?" Eddie quipped, snickering.

 

"You know, your sarcasm can be really annoying," Benoit muttered, focusing on the jeans, unbuckling the belt and tugging the pants down.

 

Eddie wrapped his legs around his friend's waist. "And you love it. Face it, ese, you wouldn't be able to go on without me," he grinned crookedly, heart pounding in his chest since this was the last thing he expected Chris to do. He could see the bigger man getting mad and slapping him, but not this.

 

"So cocky too. I wonder how long you can keep it up?" Benoit murmured, smirking as he took hold of the smaller man's flesh.

 

"Chris!" Eddie cried out, biting on his shirt as the Canadian pumped him. Pleasure coursed through his veins and he couldn't really focus on anything else other than what was going on between his legs.

 

Chris almost laughed at the writhing and tight whimpers of bliss. His free hand went up to brush a few sweaty strands of hair off of the forehead before going back down to circle around the entrance.

 

Eddie hissed a little when he felt a digit breaching him, never having done this before, but the pain was quickly replaced with pure ecstasy.

 

Benoit sped up his stroking and carefully pushed his finger up against the prostate, getting a loud moan in response. He chuckled and nibbled on his friend's ear. "Shh, don't want the hotel staff coming in and interrupting us now, do you?" he whispered.

 

Eddie's hips buckled at another stroke. He could feel his climax building up inside of him. He mewled and grabbed Chris's shoulders. "Oh God. Oh dios," he panted, his voice becoming high pitched.

 

Sensing the approaching peak, Benoit kissed the younger man, muffling the cry. He rode out the orgasm, gently wiping the cum off of the member. He planted a soft peck on his friend's forehead. "So I take it that you enjoyed this?"

 

Eddie's only response was a tired laugh.

 

"Still want to be with me? I can be frisky so I might wear you out."

 

"Now, aren't you the one being cocky?" Eddie snorted, moving forward and biting playfully on Benoit's lips. “I thought it was supposed to be us Latinos who are more passionate.”

 

Chris moaned quietly and grind against the other wrestler.

 

Eddie grinned and palmed the front of Benoit's trouser, trying to be teasing. Surprise crashed into him when Chris yanked his hand away.

 

"Don't touch me."

 

Eddie blinked, feeling rejected at the sharp words as if Benoit thought he was some bothersome fly.

 

It wasn't long until Chris reached his climax, coming in his pants. He sighed, sitting back on his knees.

 

Eddie fidgeted, growing uncomfortable. "Can you move your culo gordo so I can put my jeans back on?" he muttered.

 

Chris glanced at his friend, confused at the hurt expression. "Yeah, sure. Is something wrong?"

 

Eddie tugged his jeans up, ignoring the dry spurts of cum on him, and pulled his shirt down. He rubbed his arm absently, suddenly feeling very cold. "Why didn't you want me to touch you?"

 

Benoit rolled his eyes at the timid question. He had thought it was something serious that his co-worker was worried about. "Really? This is about your insecurity?" he scoffed.

 

Eddie flinched, not meeting the blue eyes. "I just thought that ..." his mumbling died off when a finger was pressed against his lips.

 

Chris's face softened a bit. "I don't mean to sound like a jerk. It's just that I don't like being touched down there by other people. That's all. Don't worry, it has nothing to do with you," he shushed.

 

Eddie frowned faintly, that didn't make any sense, but he didn't press the issue, sensing the impatience.

 

Benoit smiled cheerfully. "I'm sorry if I upset you," he sighed, looking apologetic.

 

Eddie shook his head, relieved that the coldness was gone. "No, you're fine, papi."

 

"I do want to know something, though," Chris murmured, taking hold of his friend's wrist, "Do you really want to be in a relationship with me or are you just looking for an easy fuck?"

 

Eddie winced when the grip on his wrist tightened. "I want a relationship. Geez, holmes. I'm not some puta," he spat crossly.

 

"Just making sure. I couldn't tell from the way you were acting earlier. You were like a tramp back there," Chris laughed, though in the back of his mind he was suspicious. Eddie had cheated on his ex-wife with Joanie a few years ago so Chris wasn’t sure just how loyal the man would be.

 

Eddie shied away, feeling stung. "I wasn't -" he started to protest but then a hand clapped his back.

 

"Lighten up! It was just a joke," Chris exclaimed, making a 'tutting' noise in the back of his throat. His best friend was taking this far too personally.

 

"There's a difference between joking around and being mean, holmes," Eddie muttered.

 

Benoit's face hardened. "Is that so? If you can't take a little teasing in a relationship, then leave now," he snapped, pointing towards the door. 

 

Eddie shook his head quickly, distressed. "No, no. It's not that, I just -"

 

"Leave or I'll throw you out."

 

"Chris, please! I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry," Eddie begged, taking Chris' arm. His chest tightened in panic at his stupidity. He seemed to have the uncanny ability of sticking his foot in his mouth.

 

Benoit hesitated. "Do you really love me?"

 

"I do. Te amo, very much," Eddie replied, hugging the Canadian, praying that somehow clinging would convince Benoit not to go away.

 

Chris smiled and hugged his friend back. "Then you'll listen to me without smarting off, right?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Good. That's a good boy," Chris purred, pecking the other man lightly on the cheek. "I don't mind giving this a try, but I'm not going to do everything, okay?"

 

"Of course."

 

"Maybe if I'm feeling in the mood later, we can have fun. This is your first time with a man, isn't it?" Benoit continued, gently tilting the chin up. He never saw Eddie flirting with men so it was a logical assumption.

 

Eddie blushed and gave a meek nod.

 

"No need to feel embarrassed. We'll fix that," Chris laughed. "I can tell that we'll be perfect together."

 

Eddie smiled shyly, feeling at ease now that the anger was gone. The mood swings made him nervous, but surely they would go away soon. "I love you, ese," he murmured, resting his head against the broad warm chest.

 

"So do I, Eddie, so do I," Chris replied softly.

 

Eddie let out a content sigh. He shouldn't have run his mouth off, but the Canadian was cheerful now. Everything was alright again.

 

Surely Chris wouldn't get mad at him again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


 March 2003

 

 

 

 

Eddie woke up, stretching luxuriously. He glanced at the sleeping form next to him and smiled fondly. They had been going out for a little over three weeks now, and he couldn't have been happier. He really did love Chris and he was sure the other man loved him too. It was just that ...... Benoit's rather bipolar mood swings and the way he had been kept on a very tight leash right from the start made him uneasy, but he never said anything towards the Canadian; Chris only had good intentions at heart and he wasn't about to push the buttons. He saw Benoit beginning to wake up. He bit his lips, hoping his best friend was in a better mood this morning than yesterday. He absently rubbed a bruise on his collarbone, remembering the way the older man yelled at him and hit him. He flinched at the memory. It was his fault for setting his lover off so he deserved the harsh words and iron fists.

 

Chris yawned and sat up, scratching his chest. He looked down and realized the younger wrestler was awake as well. "Good morning, cheri," he greeted tiredly, smiling. The latino beamed at him. He ran his hand through the soft brown hair - he always loved the feel of it. Eddie leaned into his hand contentedly. "I'm sorry for blowing up on you last night, but you understand why I did, right?" he apologized quietly.

 

Nails scratched his head, sending tickling sensations directly to his spine. Eddie nodded. "Yeah. I'm sorry," he replied, resting on the Canadian's torso.

 

"Why don't you head up and start cooking breakfast?" Chris murmured softly.

 

"Okay," Eddie said, yawning again. He sat up and got off of the bed, walking over to the kitchen. Cold tiles met his bare feet and he shivered. He was only clad in sweatpants and a white tank top. It was awfully chilly for March, but then again, spring had yet to set in. He flicked the lights on and looked in the refrigerator. There were pancake mix, eggs, milk, and orange juice. He gnawed on the insides of his cheeks, debating what to make before deciding to cook pancakes and scrambled eggs. He turned on the oven and grabbed a couple of mixing bowls.

 

Ten minutes had passed. The eggs were done and he was almost finished with the pancakes. He was flipping a couple when strong arms wrapped around him in a hug.

 

"Smells good," Benoit drawled. The kitchen had a whole homely look to it and seeing his lover in this domesticated setting nearly drove him mad with want.

 

"I hope you're hungry. We each get six pancakes," Eddie chirped cheerfully.

 

"Hmm," Chris grunted, nibbling on an ear.

 

Eddie bit on his lips to stop a chuckle from escaping and leaned back against the Canadian, smirking when he felt a hardness poking the small of his back. "Excited to eat, cariño?" he snickered.

 

Benoit let out a husky growl and reached over to turn the oven off.

 

"Hey! Don't you want food?" Eddie protested mildly, but didn't bother turning it back on. Then he was picked up and carried over to the couch. He laughed when he was pushed onto his back and his friend climbed on top of him. "I guess there is more than one way to get your breakfast," he quipped with a straight face.

 

Chris snorted and quieted his lover with a firm kiss.

 

Eddie eagerly returned the affections, lacing his hands on the back of Benoit's neck. He felt fingers prying his sweatpants and boxers down, and he wiggled a bit to help get them off.

 

Chris couldn't help but smiled at the gesture. He remembered the night they first made love. The younger man was a nervous wreck and he took care to be gentle as not to cause any pain. He remembered being caught by surprise to discover that his smaller friend can be every bit as dominant as him. He managed to get the pants and undergarments off, and tossed them across the room.

 

Eddie grinned and sat up to brush his lips against Chris' in an effort to tease the other man.

 

It worked.

 

Perhaps a little too well.

 

He was pushed back on the couch and Benoit practically devoured him. He let out a little squeak when the Canadian thrust into him; he wasn't expecting Chris to do this so quickly and without preparation. He winced a little at the burning sensation that wouldn't go away. "Hey. What's the hurry, papi?" he joked weakly, his voice strained.

 

Chris ignored the small comment, increasing his speed. Only when he heard a tight whimper did he slow down. He looked at his lover, shocked to see the face pitched up in pain. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

 

"J-Just take it a little slower, why don'tcha? I'm still kind of new at this," Eddie muttered, flinching when Benoit pulled out of him.

 

"Ah. Sorry. I forgot," Chris laughed, sitting back on his knees.

 

"Obviously," Eddie grumbled under his breath. He scooted backwards and froze when he felt wetness. He glanced down, alarmed to see blood trickling down between his thighs. "Chris?!" he squeaked, shivering from the shock.

 

Benoit looked at the trail. "Oops. I think I was a little too rough with you. I'll go get the cream," he murmured, walking over to the medical cabinet.

 

"Just a little?" Eddie repeated, disbelief lining his tone.

 

"Calm down," Chris snapped, kneeling between the legs.

 

Eddie cried out when a finger entered him. It may be lubricated with the cream, but it still stung the torn flesh. "Stopstopstopstopstop," he begged incoherently, twisting from the uncomfortable pressure.

 

"Keep still! I'm almost done," Benoit growled, his free hand pinning the stomach.

 

Another whimper slipped out of Eddie and he strained away from his friend. It hurt. "Please, stop."

 

Rolling his eyes in exasperation, Chris took his finger out. "Do you have to be such a baby?"

 

Eddie glared at the other wrestler. "It fucking hurt! What did you want me to say? 'Oh, yes, Benny. Please more?'" he snapped. His lover's blue eyes narrowed. He knew that meant the older man was starting to get real pissed off, but he was in too much pain to care. What started off as a peaceful morning now shattered into this mess. "And I could have put the cream on myself anyway. You didn't have to fucking ram your fingers into me like—" his rant was cut off as he was slapped hard across the face. He stiffened, his anger evaporating, and glanced at the Canadian warily.

 

Benoit stood up and grabbed the sweatpants, throwing it at the latino. "Put them on and shut the hell up. I don't want to hear anything else out of your smart-aleck mouth," he growled.

 

Eddie tugged the pants up, ignoring the way the wetness clung to his boxers. He looked away, rubbing his shoulder nervously.

 

Benoit sat back down with a loud sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

 

Eddie opened his mouth, about to apologize, but quickly stopped himself. He remembered the last time he disobeyed that order.

 

"The problem with you is that you never listen! Can't you, for once in your life, shut up!?"

 

He glanced down, studying the carpet.

 

Awkward silence blossomed in the cold room.

 

Thankfully, there was a knock on the door. Eddie quickly jumped off of the couch, ignoring the growl from Benoit. He opened the door, seeing that it was one of the delivery guys.

 

"Hello. I got an order here for Mr. Chris Benoit. Is he home? I need his signature."

 

"Yeah. Chris, package for you!" Eddie called out to his friend.

 

Benoit came up to the door, smiling at the delivery man. "Thank you."

 

"You're welcome. Have a good day, sirs."

 

Chris closed the door and glared at the smaller wrestler who shrank against the wall. "Next time somebody knocks on the door, I'll answer it, not you. Go clean up the mess you made in the kitchen," he barked.

 

Eddie tentatively stepped sideways, half expecting Chris to grab him, and bounded over to the stove. He dumped the cold eggs in the trash can and threw the pancakes out of the window. As he was wiping down the counter, his phone went off in his pocket. He glanced warily in the direction of the bedroom, but the Canadian didn't come out or yell at him. He dried his hands quickly and grabbed his cell. It was a text message from Lita. A goofy grin split across his face; he couldn't help it. The crazy chica always made him feel better.

 

'Whatup? Miss you! Rey says hi.'

 

Grinning ear-to-ear now, he quickly typed his reply and sent it, slipping the phone back in his pocket.

 

"What are you doing? I hope you aren't finished yet, this is a poor job of cleaning."

 

The dark snarl caused him to jump. "Ah. No. I was just taking a short break, that's all," he muttered, scuffing his feet on the floor shyly.

 

Benoit arched one eyebrow. "It's only been five minutes. Are you really that lazy? Maybe it’s true what they say about Latinos always slacking off. Gimme your phone," he snapped, holding out his hand impatiently.

 

Eddie glared at the man, his temper flaring again. "Fuck you! I'm not your maid and it's not that big of a mess. If you think I don't clean to your standards, then you fucking clean it yourself!" he snarked, tossing the washcloth at Chris' face and stalking off to the front door.

 

"Where do you think you're going?"

 

"Out. I think we need space for a while," he muttered curtly, grabbing the knob. But before he could open the door, stout arms wrapped around his waist and he was carried over to the bedroom. He kicked and clawed at Benoit, even elbowing the man. "Get the fuck off of me, you bastard!" he half-yelled, then he was pushed onto the bed, his wrists being pinned and the Canadian straddled his hips. "Goddammit, Chris! Let me go!" he spat at the heavier wrestler. One beefy hand went up in the air and punched him in the jaw. He froze, his struggles jerking to a screeching halt.

 

"Shut the fuck up. You talk too much," Chris snarled.

 

Eddie scowled and twisted, trying to get Benoit off of him.

 

Chris rolled his eyes at his lover's stubborn act. "Look. I'm sorry that I hurt you back on the couch earlier. I honestly didn't mean to, but that's no excuse for you to be a jerk."

 

Eddie flinched and went still, looking away. His jaw was throbbing and his wrists were aching from Benoit's crushing grip on them.

 

"You're not going to apologize for your rude behavior, are you," Chris said flatly, more of a statement than a question. The younger man ignored him and he fought the urge to punch his friend again. "Fine," he growled and got off.

 

Eddie blinked in surprise when the weight on him vanished and he sat up in time to see Benoit leaving the room and slamming the door shut. He heard the unmistakable 'click' and he jumped out of the bed. "Hey! Pendejo! Let me out!" he yelled out, pounding at the door.

 

"I'm going to come back in an hour. If you haven't calmed down by then, I'll resort to other methods," Benoit replied smoothly, putting the key in the pocket on his shirt and walking over to the living room.

 

Eddie's throat constricted at those words, knowing that "other methods" was just a fancy way of saying that Chris will beat him up again. He sighed and walked back to the bed, flopping on the mattress. He went too far. He cursed his hotheaded self. Why did he have to get so angry so easily? 'I need to stop ruining everything.' His cell went off again, but he ignored it, instead curling up on his side and staring at the wall. The 'tick tock' of the clock lulled him to sleep.

 

Chris came back to the bedroom an hour later, surprised to find his lover asleep. He watched the latino for a few minutes before going to the bed and leaning over the smaller man. He planted a soft kiss on the forehead, running his hand through the hair. He regretted lashing out earlier, but he couldn't help it. The other wrestler can infuriate him so much sometimes. They would have to have a long talk later. The younger man's attitude had to go. "I love you," he whispered to his best friend, pulling the blanket over the sleeping body and leaving the room.