Fic no. 71
What comes next?
Fandom: WWE
Pairing: Shawn/HHH
Rating: 12+ for language
Shawn's retirement and it's angst filled aftermath
for alex_royale since she wrote me one
not owning anything, people belong to themselves and the wwe etc etc
What comes next?
His new favorite question. Indeed, what did come next?
Should he take up golf? Shooting at the range? Hiking? Rock climbing?
He didn’t know, he just knew that today was a new day. The first day of the rest of his life and he was terrified shitless.
There was no Hunter waking him up with his loud music, no John Cena sliding into their table at breakfast to recount his newest method of driving Orton insane, and no Vince McMahon shouting at him to pay attention during the production meetings when his mind strayed elsewhere.
Instead he was in a cold empty room alone, in the dark at his house in Texas. What a way to wake up and smell the freedom of retirement. It had easily been three hours since he first woke from his bed, outside he heard birds so he knew it was daylight, and inside the faint sound of the dishwasher could be heard.
Beyond that? Utter silence. Lights off, curtains closed, and no glare from a TV screen, computer, or mobile phone. It was like a crypt and Shawn just lay inside it motionless, tearless, and bored out of his mind.
Before he could start counting invisible sheep, a small mercy came in the form of his phone going, a familiar Van Halen song playing to alert him that someone wanted his attention. He forced himself from his self inflicted prison and waddled towards his gym bag. His now useless gym bag.
“’Ello?”
“Shawn?” The gruff voice answered over the phone, it took Shawn a minute to realize it was Bret, for no one else had that slight dark edge to their voice when using his name. Like it was a swear word and a word of God wrapped into one.
“Bret! Miss me already?” He grinned despite the fact he was alone in his prison, staring at nothing but a plain brown wall, “I mean I gotta tell ya, no one and I mean no one calls this fast after someone retires otherwise.”
Bret snorted but didn’t deny the claim, “I don’t need to feed your ego, I’m just wonderin’ how you’re holding up?”
Shawn laughed and sat back down on the bed, “Doin’ great.”
That was a lie, but it was something Shawn was hard pressed to admit. Especially considering it had only been three days since RAW.
“That’s the biggest load of shit you’ve told me since 1997,” the reply came sharp with no hint of an accusation present, he was stating a fact not a question.
Either Bret was psychic or Shawn hadn’t changed as much as he cared to believe he did. He sighed and looked up at the plain ceiling hoping maybe for some guidance.
“What gave me away?” He asked quietly after a minute, a hint of sadness apparent.
“I was in love once too but unlike me… well I had children waiting for me, a wife at one point, and now I have a girlfriend. You are there alone while the love of your life is here. He’s not at home waiting, you’re at home waiting for him to come back and that can’t be easy,” Bret said with sadness evident in his tone.
“So what would you suggest I do?”
It was so quietly said that Shawn couldn’t really be sure that Bret had heard him.
“I’m retired, come and visit sometime. We can be that kind of friendly. I make a mean steak- it won’t fix the pain but it’ll put a nice band-aid on it,” Bret answered lightly almost timidly as if he was worried Shawn might laugh in his face.
Considering that Shawn had begged him for forgiveness, the laughter couldn’t stop from escaping his lips. The irony behind that whole exchange truly tickled the depression right out of him.
“Where to and when I’m doing this?”
Bret smiled on the other end despite himself, “How about sometime in May right before summer, I live in Hawaii now and the beach should be perfect. Come for a week, we can grill, go the beach, and watch some old matches.”
“That’ll be good. I’m sure the WWE will be on tour sometime around then. Which means Hunter won’t be able to call and check up on me like I’m on drugs again. Should be good,” Shawn answered.
One thing was for sure, he was in hell but Hunter had basically called him once every two hours since he got on the plane for San Antonio. He was just about positive that if retirement didn’t kill him than Hunter’s phone calls sure would.
“How many times has he called you?”
Shawn groaned and turned to lie on his stomach like he was a school girl gossiping on the phone about some cute boy, “I think maybe 39 times since I left Phoenix.”
Bret snorted, “Worried you’ll hurt yourself laying around getting some warm Texas sun?”
“No, worried that’ll stay away from him out of jealously that he didn’t retire too.”
“You were a different person the first time.”
Shawn nodded forgetting they weren’t face to face momentarily, “I know that, shit he does too but god help me that boy is like an overgrown nagging mother sometimes. I keep reminding him that I’m older than him- not wiser but more experienced. That I won’t accidentally light myself on fire from playing with matches to keep my amusement at bay.”
Both laughed at a mental image they somehow managed to conjure up of Shawn using matches in the house over a flammable object of some kind. In Bret’s vivid imagination Shawn was setting his hair on fire like some kid, in Shawn’s he was dropping a lit candle on the floor.
“I’m sure Hunter will learn to back off sooner or later,” Bret told him.
“Not soon enough,” Shawn mumbled.
Before Bret could even continue the conversation, a loud beep telling him he had a calling waiting made itself known. Shawn groaned, “Aww fuck, he’s calling again.”
“Want me to call you back?”
“Nah, I’ll call ya back later today. I need to handle mommy dearest before he starts planning my daily schedule like he’s my teacher as well,” Shawn replied truthfully.
----
(Earlier that day)
He woke up to another empty nameless hotel room, the second in the last three days. It was already eating away at him, no automatic wakeup call, no one to say “Get your ass up, Hunter”, and no one to go and eat with him while he stuffed his face with all kinds of heart attack filled protein.
He felt like a zombie, out of pity a few of the guys timidly had asked him to come “hang”, Hunter laughed and made an excuse. When really he wanted to cry out saying, “You’re not Shawn, why the fuck would I want to go hang out with you?”
Shawn didn’t need to be around him anymore, Shawn was independent and free of obligations. He didn’t have a drug problem anymore so Hunter wasn’t up at three am watching him throw up whatever he ate the night before. Shawn didn’t drink anymore, so there were no fights for Hunter to bail him out of by flexing his muscles. Shawn didn’t go to work anymore, so there was no need to plan out a schedule for them because Hunter could just freely decided for him now what to do.
And absolutely nothing could make him lonelier.
----
“What took you so long? Was there a fire? Did you burn yourself making lunch? Was God talking to you? Because really Shawn, if you think God’s talking to you, rehab might be a good solution or an insane asylum.”
“Paul, I’m not you, I don‘t burn water,” Shawn reminded him, he was the capable cook unlike a certain tall lug he knew, “And I’m ignoring that last comment.”
“Okay fine… maybe I’m overreacting slightly.”
“Slightly?” Shawn demanded, “You’ve called me god knows how many times and normally if I don’t give a rundown of every second of my day it becomes that somehow I’ve done something bad. I feel like being treated like I’m child that requires constant supervision.”
Hunter groaned, he knew that tone of voice. It was the Shawn is frustrated and not in a good way voice. He might as well have scolded him and put him in time-out.
“I fucked up.” Not a question. Hunter was fucked, and he damn well knew it.
“Fucking right you are. I tried to be good about it, but Hunt, this shit has got to stop. You’re gonna drive me crazy. Now will you please tell me why because I know it’s not because you don’t trust me,” Shawn said trying to reign in his anger.
As mad as he was, he knew that wasn’t the reason. Hunter was beyond that point in their lives. The trust had been given back and there was little doubt this was over any kind of worry about Shawn going back to old habits or actually god forbid burning down his bachelor pad.
“Okay… fine, I’ll tell you but you can’t judge me until I’m finished 'cause I know you man, and you’ll just try to dictate the conversation or take it away from me. Just let me talk, k?”
“Yea, I can do that.”
Hunter sucked in a deep breath but starting, “When you retired did you ever wonder about what it might do to me? Now, again before you go replying about how I knew it was coming and this what you really want- just stop for a second and hear me. Really hear me, don’t pretend to like we’re at the meeting- but actually listen to me Shawn. You retiring, it feels like hell, but it’s more than that- it feels like for the first time in a long time that you no longer need me.”
Shawn cursed under his breath, of course. He should have known, only Hunter would take something as personal as Shawn leaving him.
“Paul- you know I need you.”
“Do you?” He asked quietly, “Do you really? In 1998 when you left, you needed me. You walked away and told me to go fuck myself and take my bitch with me. By the way, Chyna still won’t talk me thanks in part to your drug problem. I was there for you everyday and everyday you pushed me away further until one day you decided to stop. Now you’re not even pushing, you’re just… not even there.”
“Well it’s not like that anymore. I don’t need to push, and you don’t need to push me. You don’t need to run my life from 200 miles away anymore,” he bit, slowly trying to reign in the frustration, “I’m responsible now, an adult that actually acts the part, and sometimes I even make decisions for myself.”
Hunter remained stoic, “I want you to need me for more than quick gang bang on Friday night two weeks from now at undecided location. At least when we were on the road together, we were always together so I knew you needed me. And how you needed me and that I no longer know. I don’t know if you’re sad or depressed. I can’t sit there and watch your expressions to know if you’re pulling my leg you know?”
It seemed like they were talking in circles. Hunter and his desire to be best friend, father, brother, mother, and lover in one had all but taken over and was slowly driving the poor man insane. Shawn knew he would have this emotional crashing, he just didn’t expect that Paul would be joining him on this emotional spiral. If he had known this would have happened, he would have planned to make sure the kid got some time off too.
What a fucking mess.
“Paul, listen to me, had I have known you would reacted this strongly; I would demanded Vince send you home for a week or two,” He muttered.
“I would agree without a fight.”
That was surprising; there were a lot of things Shawn expected that was not one of them.
“You would?!”
“Yea, fuck. I mean I knew, okay? You warned me several times but I’m just so used to you BEING here. I’m used to your snoring, your cooking when we find a hotel room with a kitchen set, and just you in general. I’m used to you waking up and being right there but shit Shawn we don’t even live together. We never saw a reason, we spent everyday on the road practically anyway. Now what the fuck should I do? Leave my dogs? My parents? Spend all my free time in fucking Texas? Cause shit, I just don’t know.”
And now Shawn knew the reason. Hunter was afraid that Shawn didn’t need him at ALL anymore. Romantically included- and that burned at his own damn heart too. This wasn’t just about Hunter’s controlling needs anymore; it was about what this meant for their future.
“At least if I burned down my place, I would need you pick up the pieces and would have to always be near you,” He whispered.
Now, he understood it.
“Tell me Shawn, what am I supposed to do?”
Shawn sighed and ran his hand through his balding hair, he had his parents here and they were far too old to be moving at their age. This was not how this was supposed to happen. He literally knew they were between a rock and a hard place. Without even realizing it, he had jeopardized their relationship by not factoring in the 500 mile distance between them on the few days Hunter had off.
“Fuck! Shawn… I have to go… the houseshow is about to start…”
Shawn sighed, “Hunt, we’ll think of something.”
“I sure hope so.”
That was all either could say.
----
“Hey how’s that retirement thing coming?” Bret asked it had become a tradition with them every Wednesday after Shawn went to church, he would call in to check up.
They would about anything and nothing at all, and somehow it helped Shawn avoid the real issues. The ones he’d rather not face like his desire to work and his need to have Hunter back.
“It’s hanging, like an old buddy you don’t want around but would hate to throw out.”
“How’s Hunter?”
Shawn sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration again, it seemed like this was going to drive him up a wall no matter who asked.
“I don’t KNOW. I don’t know. Two weeks ago when you called, and then he did for like the 40th time in two days we had this fight. I mean shit why am I telling you this? You know it already. But Bret, talking to him sometimes…”
Bret laughed, “You do know who you’re talking to right?”
Shawn snorted, “Guess you’re right. God, you know why I fell in love with that bastard? He’s my fucking double. I love that man with all my aching heart but this might be the worst fight we’ve had in years.”
“Over housing arrangements?” Bret asked amazed.
Shawn laughed, he forgot how truly long it had been since Bret and he had talked like friends. Bret had no idea the kinds of domesticated bullshit they fought over sometimes. Like who got to pick up the hotel room after a night of having the guys over for some poker or what not.
It was things like this he was already missing but afraid to get back. Shawn had become, for all intense purposes, a living corpse in his own house now. The idea of leaving it to face the real world, the one had run from for long terrified him, and doing it without Hunter? Scared Shitless, thy name is Shawn.
“The core of our relationship always comes down to two things: house arrangements, and retirement. I picked the latter, and now the last remaining issue could put us to rest,” he answered painfully.
“Funny, I spent all this time hating you… and now it strikes me what a mess you truly are. And I wonder how I could have ever hated you.”
Shawn bit back a scornful laugh. It was a comfort to know that Bret truly realized how humanly broken he had become but struck him as funny that now he was the guy he was turning to for answers. When Bret not only was an infamous ladies man, but was straight as a line.
“You finally noticed what a train wreck I was huh? Gee Bret, thanks for noticing how broken we all are by the hand of the business and God. Remind me not to invite you over for dinner during the holidays, life as know it could very well end in a gloomy pit of despair,” He joked, but only slightly, some of that he felt rang true.
“You already got through the hard part; you told me what was wrong. Now you just have to decide something,” Bret gently reminded him, “You’re retired, you don’t see him everyday anymore- it’s clearly driving you insane. But Shawn, you have to realize he’s got a life there too, in New Hampshire.”
“I would do anything to forget it.”
He looked over at the clock from a conversation that seemed to only start minutes ago, he was dismayed to find that after they caught up and then discussed his problems; the pair had been talking for well over two hours. Which was far later than intended, and more time than Shawn had to give if he wanted to drive to the airport and see his one and only.
Assuming, that is, that Hunter was even going to show, two weeks of not talking had made Shawn almost convinced that he was going to no-show. Except logic, told him otherwise; Shawn was the one that skipped out on people not Hunter. Never Hunter.
----
This might have been the longest wait of Shawn’s entire adult life. He had waited- no stalked the baggage claim as if his life depended on it. Normally he was right there when Hunter was mad, silently standing by his side waiting for Hunter to turn around and voice his frustrations. Not today, today was different- Shawn was retired, that meant no trailing along his side until he was ready to pop or no way to cut him off at the gate and make him be reasonable. No, this was torture; just stalking the area that he should come through anytime now, his flight had already landed.
Then he saw him, his hair in a ponytail, his eyes only to be described as angry and maybe even a little bit sad, but what really told the story was his beard. His beard that was normally well cut was starting to resemble something that Mike Knox had put together.
Shawn felt sick suddenly, like maybe just maybe the wrong thing to do was be here to confront him. This might have been better suited for private eyes and ears, because the way Hunter was looking at him right now made him want to race off to the nearest bathroom and puke out every single thing he had for dinner last night.
He couldn’t explain it, it somewhere between a horror movie and a badly written romance novel gone wrong. His heart had undoubtedly been shoved down his throat so far he was forced to breathe through his nose to keep upright.
“Paul…” He rasped out gently trying to hide his mix between dread and utter heartbreak.
The phone calls were a poor warning, a lot more poor than expected. He assumed he had gotten the brunt of the hurt and the anger on the phone- now it truly hit him how utterly fucked this whole mess was. And the eyes before him just looked at him almost hauntingly as if he were afraid to even say hello.
“Shawn, I think you better just start the damn fucking car and not say a single word till we get there.”
Shawn didn’t have to be told twice.
-----
In the sixteen years since Michael Shawn Hickenbottom met Paul Michael Levesque, there were only two times that Hunter managed to shock Shawn speechless. The first came the night Scotty, Kev, Hunter, and himself were out partying- well the three of them were and Hunter watched. Hunter had been perfectly sober so when a not so sober Shawn put his lips around Hunter’s ear, he expected a lot to happen. None of them outcomes involved Hunter kissing him back.
The second time, and until this moment the last that came to mind was the time that Hunter told him that Stephanie had only been a bed warmer till he cleaned himself up before his comeback happened. It had literally been 8 years since Hunter had managed to shock Shawn. Right now, the only thing that could have possibly shocked Shawn more was him announcing formally that he wanted a sex change.
Needless to say, Hunter would never, so obviously this was about outrageous as it could possibly get. The man sitting in front of him appeared to be the guy that he been with for sixteen years until you saw him. This guy looked like a stranger. This guy walked into his house like he were merely a visitor, carrying his luggage and his only (normally Shawn’s would be in hand), and he just stood there like a corpse.
This man was not Paul; this was some impersonator that just happened to look the part because his Hunter would have walked in like he owned the place, taken care of everything from making sure Shawn didn’t take more than he could handle to fucking offering to pour the guys drinks, and he always sat in the recliner by the door.
“Are you going to sit or are you just going to stand there clutching your shit like your life depends on it?” Shawn spoke finally so soft he almost didn’t hear himself.
Hunter laughed and sunk into the closest seat by the TV, the spot that normally Shawn sat in ironically enough so Shawn gently sat down on the floor in front of him. Prepared for, if necessary, to beg for forgiveness of some kind or just to beg him in general about taking him back should he find himself dumped somewhere the span of this conversation.
“This isn’t your fault entirely,” he said slowly, quietly, assertively motioning to himself, or whatever was left of him.
“But to say that wasn’t at all would be a lie,” Shawn finished.
Hunter nodded, “I told him for months that time was coming. I felt like a terminal patient. I had heard the diagnosis, I had denied, then I accepted, and then I grieved. I figured once it was over, there was nothing else to be said or done.”
Shawn felt the bile rising, “What happened?”
“You died. Suddenly you died, and I forgot it wasn’t real. The death anyway because the rest, felt real.”
“I never meant….” He began before Hunter angrily cut him off.
“This isn’t about you. Well no, that’s not entirely true is it,” He scoffed angrily, “It is but this, Shawn, is about me. For once, it’s about me and not your need to always feel sorry. You made your decisions and you stuck by them, don’t feel like you have to breakdown for me. I’m already fucking there on my own.”
Shawn swallowed sharply, this was definitely worse than he imagined and twice as hard to fix than before for this time he had no clear idea how to fix whatever was wrong.
“Then what can I do to help?”
“I would say teach me to survive without you, but somehow I don’t think that would help matters. All you can do is find a way to make this work, find a way to keep from not talking to a ghost that’s not there when I get up every morning. Find a way to tell me “good luck on your match kid,” without actually being there next to me. Find a way for us to live together because going to bed alone is too much for me to handle,” He answered.
“I can always maybe you know get a job as a road agent…” Shawn suggested lightly.
Hunter laughed bitterly, “Yea, we both know how well that would work. You would torment yourself until you convinced yourself that there was one more match in you. Which then in turn would make me feel guilty; it would better to teach you to use a phone.”
Defeated, Shawn leaned back and sent a prayer up to the heavens so that maybe, just maybe his God would provide the answers he sought out. How to fix Hunter’s heart and his life.
“So not what?” Shawn asked quietly as he made his eternal prayer.
Hunter just shrugged, his eyes half glazed over, starring at a black spot on the wall with no expression apparent on his face, “I suppose we cook dinner- well you cook, I’ll chop vegetables and we’ll see what happens next.”
--
They ate in silence, they never ate in silence. Shawn was not one for silence at the dinner table, dinner was a time to connect and chat about the day’s bringing. However, when he even had tried to strike up a conversation, Hunter would just play with his food and pretend to listen. Finally, Shawn just gave up trying to make conversation.
Another sign, another sign that Shawn had missed, he wondered would they even need to bother to break up officially because this seemed to be a good indication that their relationship was non-existent. Maybe he would need Bret after all, if not to cry to like he was a teenage girl losing their first official boyfriend.
“This is good Shawn, you make a good salmon. Hell, I didn’t know you could make salmon,” he mumbled quietly.
Of course Hunter didn’t, they never had a barbeque to use on the road, and it wasn’t like they ever had to visit each other before. Shawn laughed, he would think after dating someone for twelve years that they would know that you could fucking barbeque.
“God, God that’s so…” Shawn couldn’t help himself, he could not contain his mirth.
“So what Shawn?” Hunter demanded anger now apparent in his tone, and a scowl heavily weighing on his glorious face, “How the fuck was I funny?”
“We’ve been, god Hunt, we’ve been together for twelve years and you didn’t even know that I could girll. Sure you fucking knew I could cook because occasionally we could secure a hotel room with a stove but we’ve never actually barbequed together before.”
At this Shawn finally collapsed, tears started lightly streaming down his face. It was like the light had come on, without wrestling and everything tiny thing that fit into that box, they knew absolutely nothing about each other.
The only time Shawn had met Hunter’s parents was during Wrestlemania, the only time Hunter had met his was over Wrestlemania. Their knowledge of each other lived in this tiny box that had for years threatened to escape but never had until the moment Shawn retired. And now all that was left was some cold, bitter, sad, ironic feeling that sometimes wrestling was a real bitch.
Shawn then found himself sobbing in Hunter’s chest. His broad chest covered in this polo shirt, fuck Shawn didn’t even know that Hunter wore polo fucking shirts.
“You always dress like this when you have time off?” He asked in between his fits of sobs.
“Yea, I’m not one for sports and I can’t stand wearing wrestling t-shirts, I feel like a walking advertisement. Besides, I’m a gay man in case you didn’t know,” Hunter answered.
“Nah, you’re fucking bi- that doesn’t explain the clothing choice.”
“Shawn, I might like chicks but my fashion sense is as fucking homosexual as it comes,” Hunter informed him, “I spend 600 dollars on a shirt if I think it’ll make my muscles look more youthful.”
Shawn felt his mouth drop open, “You’re that guy?”
Hunter nodded his head in confirmation, yea he was fucking that guy.
“Did I just, somehow miss that?” He wondered amazed.
Hunter shrugged while running his hand through Shawn’s remaining hair.
“I feel like I’m meeting his person that I’ve known before. I feel like you’re a stranger…” Shawn confessed, almost in pain over the admission.
“I don’t think I am though,” Hunter told him mildly disappointed, “Sure there’s shit that I don’t know about you but you, Shawn, will always be YOU.”
That was one thing that quite possibly was true, Shawn knew. He was just himself, and that- who he was just was never a secret to anyone with half a brain. But this guy, maybe he wouldn’t have been so surprised if he knew how truly different Hunter could be when he wasn’t required to be Vince’s puppet.
“We’re not breaking up.”
“What?” Shawn whispered harshly almost afraid to even bring up the lingering doubt and pain he felt.
“We’re not, I know that’s what you think but Shawn, I didn’t break up with you. I just didn’t know what to say anymore,” he said quietly.
“You’re not leaving me because I left?” Shawn said almost pleadingly.
“No! No, you made your choice, I didn’t think I would hate it but Shawn, I could never do that.”
Shawn felt the bile back in his throat again, “Do you love me?”
“Of course, what kind of question is that?” He asked.
“I just, I mean I know but I wonder if you would if we were always together. Like really together in the real world. Outside of a square with rope attached. I always worried that our relationship wouldn’t survive my retirement. And so far you had just appeared to confirm it. By being so hurt that I wasn’t around, to me not knowing that you were that polo shirt, pink wearing, sunglasses owning fashion guy; I just didn’t know if we were stronger than this because up until this point all we had to know was the basics,” Shawn said finally.
And voicing that fear never felt so damn good before, the silence that replaced it though for the next several minutes did not make him as good.
“Shawn… follow me,” Hunter said gently placing his plate in the sink and motioning towards the couch.
----
“Shawn, what’s my favorite color?”
“Blue- well ocean blue to be exact,” Shawn responded.
Hunter nodded, “Why is blue my favorite color?”
“Because it brings you back to the summers you spent up in Maine by the coast fishing with your grandfather,” He answered with smile.
Hunter smirked, “Your favorite is green, right?”
“Of course it is! What kind of question is that?” Shawn inquired.
“Well I mean we changed the DX colors to green and black because you liked green, right?”
Shawn confirmed it.
“You’ve always liked regular green not forest green or neon green or yellow green but green because it reminds you of the color of your dad’s army suit. And because we’re the DX army, our colors had to be just that green,” Hunter told him.
“Tell me something, I don’t know.”
This was getting weird, Shawn didn’t understand this. First he thought Hunter had asked to come see him to break up with him formally after two weeks of pure silence. Then, during dinner he basically ignored Shawn after a series of disturbing images came to light upon his arrival. Only to find himself sitting on the couch by the TV talking about FAVORITE COLORS of all things, what any of this had to do with a fight, he hadn’t the faintest idea.
“Okay, what’s my sister’s name?”
“Lynn.”
“My mother?”
“Patricia.”
“Your favorite sibling is your sister Shari. You never met your grandparents, and your least favorite cousin is named William.”
Shawn looked at him oddly, Hunter was not making a lick of sense and now he was spouting off familial relations.
“What was the worst thing I ever did as a child?”
“You made your mother cry when you were 15 after you hit your father in the jaw and stormed off because he didn’t support the idea of you being a bodybuilder,” Shawn replied.
Hunter shook his head at the memory, he felt like such a jackass that day, “You consider the day you hit your old man for reaming you out the worst thing that happened to you as a kid. You felt like a giant heel and all you wanted to do was quit school.”
“Paul… is there a point to this?” Shawn finally asked.
Hunter nodded but just leaned back further on the couch, into the pillows that he started to rearrange to support his spine better. He motioned for Shawn to do the same, “There’s a point but I feel like we’re gonna be here a while. Might as well make ourselves comfortable.”
--
And it had continued for almost two hours. They had gone from not talking, to Hunter practically breaking down to in his living room, to a silent dinner, and now they were just sitting there quietly unemotionally talking about nothing and everything.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Shawn confessed after they shared a laugh over a story involving Paul’s 16th birthday.
“Was anything we just talked about new information?”
“No.”
Paul nodded, “Wasn’t for me either. You think we know nothing about each other because you had no idea I dance to my iPod when I vacuum the floor, and you grill some mean fish. Shawn, that’s 40 years worth of history we know about each other. The last two hours have proven it. I know about the time you skinned your knee on your bike when you were 7 and then told your sister that you were never riding a bike again- only to buy a motorcycle at 21 and claim to her it wasn’t a bike.”
Now, it absolute perfect sense what Hunter was trying to tell him.
“Shawn, the important stuff we know. The rest, we can learn. Okay, the fact that you leave dead deer in the house creeps me out some but I’m sure during election season you’ll want to beat my democratic head in,” Hunter began.
“Hey, don’t knock hunting.”
“I’m being stared at by a headless creature that was once ALIVE.”
“You are far too Northerner for your own good,” Shawn retorted.
“At least, I don’t kill Bambi and brag about it,” Hunter countered.
Shawn laughed, “That still doesn’t fix the very large elephant in the room.”
“No, no it doesn’t but I wanted you to know that this wasn’t so I could break up with you, ride on my laurels back to New Hampshire and never return,” He said softly, “Right now, it’s tough. I’m not gonna lie to you- I have no idea how to fix the elephant and I have no idea how to mend my heart right now but that doesn’t mean we’re over.”
The bile was back, and this time Shawn was getting a little misty, this might have reassured him that today he wasn’t getting his ass dumped but that still reminded him of the sight before him. The long worn face of his longtime best friend in every sense of the word, the face that said he was tired of life and all of its drama. Hunter’s ghostly appearance, a painful reminder that he had not been okay when he came to stay and would not be when he left either.
“Why can’t there just be a guide book about what to do with your partner when you retire from professional wrestling?” Shawn joked sadly.
“I don’t know but right about now, I’m wondering how each and everyone of those married jackasses can stand to leave their wives behind and hit the road for 250 days a year,” Hunter told him honestly.
“They have an advantage kid, they fucking live in the same house and they also never had to survive on the road either unless they were one of the chosen few who married a diva,” Shawn pointed out, “We’re the complete parallel, they can’t offer us any advice because they haven’t been where we have and they can actually come home to each other.”
Hunter sighed, and that was the bottom line. Ever since his brother in law had died, Hunter was needed back home for his sister, her children, and their parents. Shawn, god help him had his 80 something year old parents who were too old to be supporting themselves and Shawn the most financially successful child felt the need to be responsible for their care. Quite the mess for 40 year old “bachelors” who had yet to truly inform their parents of how their connection actually went, how to even have that conversation was beyond them at this point.
“Have you ever maybe considered that your sister offered to take your parents out of your hands…”
“Are you saying, I should what just hand them over like they’re a piece of property?” Shawn demanded.
“No! It’s just, I don’t have three siblings, I have just the one who really can’t raise two kids alone. That’s where I spend my days off with her, and them being the responsible uncle. But if let yourself be free of this only responsibility you have here… I mean you don’t work anymore, you don’t have a farm, and okay you’ll need a new church but even New Hampshire has conservative churches,” Hunter added.
Shawn sighed, “Hunt… I just don’t know if I can do that. My parents, hell our parents, they just know we’re friends. God we’ve been, they think were just road buddies. They have no idea we’re dating, or that we have been for fifteen years. Mine are convinced that when I joined a church that must have become a priest and not told them because they’re under the opinion I’m celibate. Even though I’ve insisted that I have a healthy sex life. And yours well, I haven’t faintest idea but they seem to be under the same idea about you.”
“Nah, they’re just convinced I whore myself out to the female fans.”
“You mean that’s not true?” Shawn gasped.
“It is but you know, it’s been a while since I’ve actually picked one up at the bar,” Hunter confessed.
“Blasphemy.”
“Don’t worry, I intend to get laid tonight so it’s okay. My dick will survive the hurt.”
Shawn smirked, Hunter might be on the verge of a breakdown but his pecker definitely was not, “Does this getting laid mean anything for me too?”
Hunter stood up from the couch and held out his hand, “I think there might even be a formal hand offering invitation to shed that pesky priesthood out of your system. And if we can’t, I can always pretend to be a 15 year old school boy, and you could always become a catholic.”
Shawn snorted, “That was not funny.”
“Then why are you smiling Father Michael?”
“Bastard.”
----
(6 days later)
“Hey Shawn, how are things?”
“Good Bret, just doing some spring cleaning,” Shawn answered taping up another box.
“Work things out then?” Bret asked.
Shawn smiled, “Moving to New Hampshire sometime in the next two weeks or so.”
“What changed?”
“I realized maybe it was time for my sister to take care of my parents. Told them about Hunter and said I’m sorry but I have to go and be with him. My father is struggling with this new development but it could have gone much worse. He gets I’m 44 almost 45 and that if I have been this way for over fifteen years now chances are there’s no going back,” Shawn explained.
He tied up another bag of trash and went to walk it to the curb, this was best cleaning job he had time for in over twenty years. What retirement could do for a guy and his house!
“And the road issues?”
Shawn sighed, “Hunter’s got some adjustments to go through. He said that two weeks of trying to function on his own as much as it killed him really helped him start over like it was 1998 only with the obligations of making sure I stayed sober. He’s trying to do new things, and make new friends. And after ten years I can’t imagine that’s easy but I’m going to have to learn the same shit when I move out there with his family. I’ll have kids around me for the first time in a long time, and I’ll have to like be a son-in-law kind of.”
Bret couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Scared shitless?”
“Yes. Kids, an active family, dogs! Dogs! Hunter has two fucking dogs. You know the last time I had a pet? 1982. I don’t know what I’m going to do with a dog. He insists it’ll save him money though, because now he doesn’t need to hire a dog walker. His poor nephew just lost his extra allowance in one foul swoop,” Shawn remarked shaking his head.
Hunter would be rehiring his damn walkers probably in a matter of days once he realized Shawn knew as much about dogs as he did farming. Though, telling him that now might make the man regret having him move in.
“Look at this way, your house will never look better because you aren’t gone six days a week. You can do laundry and sleep and not feel rushed to catch a plane or a ride. You can make friends, join a church, and go shopping like a normal person. Retirement could be the best thing that ever happened to you,” Bret added.
It was true, Shawn was really getting the better deal of out this but what really what truly made him know they were going to be okay was what he hadn’t already told Bret nor his parents.
“Oh it will be, Hunter has decided not to sign a new contract, he’s two years left! And then we might even adopt,” he reported.
“Really?”
“Yea, we decided to make a strong go of it. All of it, which meant that he had to quit too. That was truly the only way this was going to work out for him. I’m fine but by himself new friends or not, Hunter will just go insane. And I can’t text him every second of every day but we’re certainly trying that whole texting and email bit to get us through this,” Shawn said.
“Guess you got your happily ending after all.”
“Well yea, at least until I have to walk the damn dogs.”
----
End.
Fandom: WWE
Pairing: Shawn/HHH
Rating: 12+ for language
Shawn's retirement and it's angst filled aftermath
for alex_royale since she wrote me one
not owning anything, people belong to themselves and the wwe etc etc
What comes next?
His new favorite question. Indeed, what did come next?
Should he take up golf? Shooting at the range? Hiking? Rock climbing?
He didn’t know, he just knew that today was a new day. The first day of the rest of his life and he was terrified shitless.
There was no Hunter waking him up with his loud music, no John Cena sliding into their table at breakfast to recount his newest method of driving Orton insane, and no Vince McMahon shouting at him to pay attention during the production meetings when his mind strayed elsewhere.
Instead he was in a cold empty room alone, in the dark at his house in Texas. What a way to wake up and smell the freedom of retirement. It had easily been three hours since he first woke from his bed, outside he heard birds so he knew it was daylight, and inside the faint sound of the dishwasher could be heard.
Beyond that? Utter silence. Lights off, curtains closed, and no glare from a TV screen, computer, or mobile phone. It was like a crypt and Shawn just lay inside it motionless, tearless, and bored out of his mind.
Before he could start counting invisible sheep, a small mercy came in the form of his phone going, a familiar Van Halen song playing to alert him that someone wanted his attention. He forced himself from his self inflicted prison and waddled towards his gym bag. His now useless gym bag.
“’Ello?”
“Shawn?” The gruff voice answered over the phone, it took Shawn a minute to realize it was Bret, for no one else had that slight dark edge to their voice when using his name. Like it was a swear word and a word of God wrapped into one.
“Bret! Miss me already?” He grinned despite the fact he was alone in his prison, staring at nothing but a plain brown wall, “I mean I gotta tell ya, no one and I mean no one calls this fast after someone retires otherwise.”
Bret snorted but didn’t deny the claim, “I don’t need to feed your ego, I’m just wonderin’ how you’re holding up?”
Shawn laughed and sat back down on the bed, “Doin’ great.”
That was a lie, but it was something Shawn was hard pressed to admit. Especially considering it had only been three days since RAW.
“That’s the biggest load of shit you’ve told me since 1997,” the reply came sharp with no hint of an accusation present, he was stating a fact not a question.
Either Bret was psychic or Shawn hadn’t changed as much as he cared to believe he did. He sighed and looked up at the plain ceiling hoping maybe for some guidance.
“What gave me away?” He asked quietly after a minute, a hint of sadness apparent.
“I was in love once too but unlike me… well I had children waiting for me, a wife at one point, and now I have a girlfriend. You are there alone while the love of your life is here. He’s not at home waiting, you’re at home waiting for him to come back and that can’t be easy,” Bret said with sadness evident in his tone.
“So what would you suggest I do?”
It was so quietly said that Shawn couldn’t really be sure that Bret had heard him.
“I’m retired, come and visit sometime. We can be that kind of friendly. I make a mean steak- it won’t fix the pain but it’ll put a nice band-aid on it,” Bret answered lightly almost timidly as if he was worried Shawn might laugh in his face.
Considering that Shawn had begged him for forgiveness, the laughter couldn’t stop from escaping his lips. The irony behind that whole exchange truly tickled the depression right out of him.
“Where to and when I’m doing this?”
Bret smiled on the other end despite himself, “How about sometime in May right before summer, I live in Hawaii now and the beach should be perfect. Come for a week, we can grill, go the beach, and watch some old matches.”
“That’ll be good. I’m sure the WWE will be on tour sometime around then. Which means Hunter won’t be able to call and check up on me like I’m on drugs again. Should be good,” Shawn answered.
One thing was for sure, he was in hell but Hunter had basically called him once every two hours since he got on the plane for San Antonio. He was just about positive that if retirement didn’t kill him than Hunter’s phone calls sure would.
“How many times has he called you?”
Shawn groaned and turned to lie on his stomach like he was a school girl gossiping on the phone about some cute boy, “I think maybe 39 times since I left Phoenix.”
Bret snorted, “Worried you’ll hurt yourself laying around getting some warm Texas sun?”
“No, worried that’ll stay away from him out of jealously that he didn’t retire too.”
“You were a different person the first time.”
Shawn nodded forgetting they weren’t face to face momentarily, “I know that, shit he does too but god help me that boy is like an overgrown nagging mother sometimes. I keep reminding him that I’m older than him- not wiser but more experienced. That I won’t accidentally light myself on fire from playing with matches to keep my amusement at bay.”
Both laughed at a mental image they somehow managed to conjure up of Shawn using matches in the house over a flammable object of some kind. In Bret’s vivid imagination Shawn was setting his hair on fire like some kid, in Shawn’s he was dropping a lit candle on the floor.
“I’m sure Hunter will learn to back off sooner or later,” Bret told him.
“Not soon enough,” Shawn mumbled.
Before Bret could even continue the conversation, a loud beep telling him he had a calling waiting made itself known. Shawn groaned, “Aww fuck, he’s calling again.”
“Want me to call you back?”
“Nah, I’ll call ya back later today. I need to handle mommy dearest before he starts planning my daily schedule like he’s my teacher as well,” Shawn replied truthfully.
----
(Earlier that day)
He woke up to another empty nameless hotel room, the second in the last three days. It was already eating away at him, no automatic wakeup call, no one to say “Get your ass up, Hunter”, and no one to go and eat with him while he stuffed his face with all kinds of heart attack filled protein.
He felt like a zombie, out of pity a few of the guys timidly had asked him to come “hang”, Hunter laughed and made an excuse. When really he wanted to cry out saying, “You’re not Shawn, why the fuck would I want to go hang out with you?”
Shawn didn’t need to be around him anymore, Shawn was independent and free of obligations. He didn’t have a drug problem anymore so Hunter wasn’t up at three am watching him throw up whatever he ate the night before. Shawn didn’t drink anymore, so there were no fights for Hunter to bail him out of by flexing his muscles. Shawn didn’t go to work anymore, so there was no need to plan out a schedule for them because Hunter could just freely decided for him now what to do.
And absolutely nothing could make him lonelier.
----
“What took you so long? Was there a fire? Did you burn yourself making lunch? Was God talking to you? Because really Shawn, if you think God’s talking to you, rehab might be a good solution or an insane asylum.”
“Paul, I’m not you, I don‘t burn water,” Shawn reminded him, he was the capable cook unlike a certain tall lug he knew, “And I’m ignoring that last comment.”
“Okay fine… maybe I’m overreacting slightly.”
“Slightly?” Shawn demanded, “You’ve called me god knows how many times and normally if I don’t give a rundown of every second of my day it becomes that somehow I’ve done something bad. I feel like being treated like I’m child that requires constant supervision.”
Hunter groaned, he knew that tone of voice. It was the Shawn is frustrated and not in a good way voice. He might as well have scolded him and put him in time-out.
“I fucked up.” Not a question. Hunter was fucked, and he damn well knew it.
“Fucking right you are. I tried to be good about it, but Hunt, this shit has got to stop. You’re gonna drive me crazy. Now will you please tell me why because I know it’s not because you don’t trust me,” Shawn said trying to reign in his anger.
As mad as he was, he knew that wasn’t the reason. Hunter was beyond that point in their lives. The trust had been given back and there was little doubt this was over any kind of worry about Shawn going back to old habits or actually god forbid burning down his bachelor pad.
“Okay… fine, I’ll tell you but you can’t judge me until I’m finished 'cause I know you man, and you’ll just try to dictate the conversation or take it away from me. Just let me talk, k?”
“Yea, I can do that.”
Hunter sucked in a deep breath but starting, “When you retired did you ever wonder about what it might do to me? Now, again before you go replying about how I knew it was coming and this what you really want- just stop for a second and hear me. Really hear me, don’t pretend to like we’re at the meeting- but actually listen to me Shawn. You retiring, it feels like hell, but it’s more than that- it feels like for the first time in a long time that you no longer need me.”
Shawn cursed under his breath, of course. He should have known, only Hunter would take something as personal as Shawn leaving him.
“Paul- you know I need you.”
“Do you?” He asked quietly, “Do you really? In 1998 when you left, you needed me. You walked away and told me to go fuck myself and take my bitch with me. By the way, Chyna still won’t talk me thanks in part to your drug problem. I was there for you everyday and everyday you pushed me away further until one day you decided to stop. Now you’re not even pushing, you’re just… not even there.”
“Well it’s not like that anymore. I don’t need to push, and you don’t need to push me. You don’t need to run my life from 200 miles away anymore,” he bit, slowly trying to reign in the frustration, “I’m responsible now, an adult that actually acts the part, and sometimes I even make decisions for myself.”
Hunter remained stoic, “I want you to need me for more than quick gang bang on Friday night two weeks from now at undecided location. At least when we were on the road together, we were always together so I knew you needed me. And how you needed me and that I no longer know. I don’t know if you’re sad or depressed. I can’t sit there and watch your expressions to know if you’re pulling my leg you know?”
It seemed like they were talking in circles. Hunter and his desire to be best friend, father, brother, mother, and lover in one had all but taken over and was slowly driving the poor man insane. Shawn knew he would have this emotional crashing, he just didn’t expect that Paul would be joining him on this emotional spiral. If he had known this would have happened, he would have planned to make sure the kid got some time off too.
What a fucking mess.
“Paul, listen to me, had I have known you would reacted this strongly; I would demanded Vince send you home for a week or two,” He muttered.
“I would agree without a fight.”
That was surprising; there were a lot of things Shawn expected that was not one of them.
“You would?!”
“Yea, fuck. I mean I knew, okay? You warned me several times but I’m just so used to you BEING here. I’m used to your snoring, your cooking when we find a hotel room with a kitchen set, and just you in general. I’m used to you waking up and being right there but shit Shawn we don’t even live together. We never saw a reason, we spent everyday on the road practically anyway. Now what the fuck should I do? Leave my dogs? My parents? Spend all my free time in fucking Texas? Cause shit, I just don’t know.”
And now Shawn knew the reason. Hunter was afraid that Shawn didn’t need him at ALL anymore. Romantically included- and that burned at his own damn heart too. This wasn’t just about Hunter’s controlling needs anymore; it was about what this meant for their future.
“At least if I burned down my place, I would need you pick up the pieces and would have to always be near you,” He whispered.
Now, he understood it.
“Tell me Shawn, what am I supposed to do?”
Shawn sighed and ran his hand through his balding hair, he had his parents here and they were far too old to be moving at their age. This was not how this was supposed to happen. He literally knew they were between a rock and a hard place. Without even realizing it, he had jeopardized their relationship by not factoring in the 500 mile distance between them on the few days Hunter had off.
“Fuck! Shawn… I have to go… the houseshow is about to start…”
Shawn sighed, “Hunt, we’ll think of something.”
“I sure hope so.”
That was all either could say.
----
“Hey how’s that retirement thing coming?” Bret asked it had become a tradition with them every Wednesday after Shawn went to church, he would call in to check up.
They would about anything and nothing at all, and somehow it helped Shawn avoid the real issues. The ones he’d rather not face like his desire to work and his need to have Hunter back.
“It’s hanging, like an old buddy you don’t want around but would hate to throw out.”
“How’s Hunter?”
Shawn sighed and ran his hand through his hair in frustration again, it seemed like this was going to drive him up a wall no matter who asked.
“I don’t KNOW. I don’t know. Two weeks ago when you called, and then he did for like the 40th time in two days we had this fight. I mean shit why am I telling you this? You know it already. But Bret, talking to him sometimes…”
Bret laughed, “You do know who you’re talking to right?”
Shawn snorted, “Guess you’re right. God, you know why I fell in love with that bastard? He’s my fucking double. I love that man with all my aching heart but this might be the worst fight we’ve had in years.”
“Over housing arrangements?” Bret asked amazed.
Shawn laughed, he forgot how truly long it had been since Bret and he had talked like friends. Bret had no idea the kinds of domesticated bullshit they fought over sometimes. Like who got to pick up the hotel room after a night of having the guys over for some poker or what not.
It was things like this he was already missing but afraid to get back. Shawn had become, for all intense purposes, a living corpse in his own house now. The idea of leaving it to face the real world, the one had run from for long terrified him, and doing it without Hunter? Scared Shitless, thy name is Shawn.
“The core of our relationship always comes down to two things: house arrangements, and retirement. I picked the latter, and now the last remaining issue could put us to rest,” he answered painfully.
“Funny, I spent all this time hating you… and now it strikes me what a mess you truly are. And I wonder how I could have ever hated you.”
Shawn bit back a scornful laugh. It was a comfort to know that Bret truly realized how humanly broken he had become but struck him as funny that now he was the guy he was turning to for answers. When Bret not only was an infamous ladies man, but was straight as a line.
“You finally noticed what a train wreck I was huh? Gee Bret, thanks for noticing how broken we all are by the hand of the business and God. Remind me not to invite you over for dinner during the holidays, life as know it could very well end in a gloomy pit of despair,” He joked, but only slightly, some of that he felt rang true.
“You already got through the hard part; you told me what was wrong. Now you just have to decide something,” Bret gently reminded him, “You’re retired, you don’t see him everyday anymore- it’s clearly driving you insane. But Shawn, you have to realize he’s got a life there too, in New Hampshire.”
“I would do anything to forget it.”
He looked over at the clock from a conversation that seemed to only start minutes ago, he was dismayed to find that after they caught up and then discussed his problems; the pair had been talking for well over two hours. Which was far later than intended, and more time than Shawn had to give if he wanted to drive to the airport and see his one and only.
Assuming, that is, that Hunter was even going to show, two weeks of not talking had made Shawn almost convinced that he was going to no-show. Except logic, told him otherwise; Shawn was the one that skipped out on people not Hunter. Never Hunter.
----
This might have been the longest wait of Shawn’s entire adult life. He had waited- no stalked the baggage claim as if his life depended on it. Normally he was right there when Hunter was mad, silently standing by his side waiting for Hunter to turn around and voice his frustrations. Not today, today was different- Shawn was retired, that meant no trailing along his side until he was ready to pop or no way to cut him off at the gate and make him be reasonable. No, this was torture; just stalking the area that he should come through anytime now, his flight had already landed.
Then he saw him, his hair in a ponytail, his eyes only to be described as angry and maybe even a little bit sad, but what really told the story was his beard. His beard that was normally well cut was starting to resemble something that Mike Knox had put together.
Shawn felt sick suddenly, like maybe just maybe the wrong thing to do was be here to confront him. This might have been better suited for private eyes and ears, because the way Hunter was looking at him right now made him want to race off to the nearest bathroom and puke out every single thing he had for dinner last night.
He couldn’t explain it, it somewhere between a horror movie and a badly written romance novel gone wrong. His heart had undoubtedly been shoved down his throat so far he was forced to breathe through his nose to keep upright.
“Paul…” He rasped out gently trying to hide his mix between dread and utter heartbreak.
The phone calls were a poor warning, a lot more poor than expected. He assumed he had gotten the brunt of the hurt and the anger on the phone- now it truly hit him how utterly fucked this whole mess was. And the eyes before him just looked at him almost hauntingly as if he were afraid to even say hello.
“Shawn, I think you better just start the damn fucking car and not say a single word till we get there.”
Shawn didn’t have to be told twice.
-----
In the sixteen years since Michael Shawn Hickenbottom met Paul Michael Levesque, there were only two times that Hunter managed to shock Shawn speechless. The first came the night Scotty, Kev, Hunter, and himself were out partying- well the three of them were and Hunter watched. Hunter had been perfectly sober so when a not so sober Shawn put his lips around Hunter’s ear, he expected a lot to happen. None of them outcomes involved Hunter kissing him back.
The second time, and until this moment the last that came to mind was the time that Hunter told him that Stephanie had only been a bed warmer till he cleaned himself up before his comeback happened. It had literally been 8 years since Hunter had managed to shock Shawn. Right now, the only thing that could have possibly shocked Shawn more was him announcing formally that he wanted a sex change.
Needless to say, Hunter would never, so obviously this was about outrageous as it could possibly get. The man sitting in front of him appeared to be the guy that he been with for sixteen years until you saw him. This guy looked like a stranger. This guy walked into his house like he were merely a visitor, carrying his luggage and his only (normally Shawn’s would be in hand), and he just stood there like a corpse.
This man was not Paul; this was some impersonator that just happened to look the part because his Hunter would have walked in like he owned the place, taken care of everything from making sure Shawn didn’t take more than he could handle to fucking offering to pour the guys drinks, and he always sat in the recliner by the door.
“Are you going to sit or are you just going to stand there clutching your shit like your life depends on it?” Shawn spoke finally so soft he almost didn’t hear himself.
Hunter laughed and sunk into the closest seat by the TV, the spot that normally Shawn sat in ironically enough so Shawn gently sat down on the floor in front of him. Prepared for, if necessary, to beg for forgiveness of some kind or just to beg him in general about taking him back should he find himself dumped somewhere the span of this conversation.
“This isn’t your fault entirely,” he said slowly, quietly, assertively motioning to himself, or whatever was left of him.
“But to say that wasn’t at all would be a lie,” Shawn finished.
Hunter nodded, “I told him for months that time was coming. I felt like a terminal patient. I had heard the diagnosis, I had denied, then I accepted, and then I grieved. I figured once it was over, there was nothing else to be said or done.”
Shawn felt the bile rising, “What happened?”
“You died. Suddenly you died, and I forgot it wasn’t real. The death anyway because the rest, felt real.”
“I never meant….” He began before Hunter angrily cut him off.
“This isn’t about you. Well no, that’s not entirely true is it,” He scoffed angrily, “It is but this, Shawn, is about me. For once, it’s about me and not your need to always feel sorry. You made your decisions and you stuck by them, don’t feel like you have to breakdown for me. I’m already fucking there on my own.”
Shawn swallowed sharply, this was definitely worse than he imagined and twice as hard to fix than before for this time he had no clear idea how to fix whatever was wrong.
“Then what can I do to help?”
“I would say teach me to survive without you, but somehow I don’t think that would help matters. All you can do is find a way to make this work, find a way to keep from not talking to a ghost that’s not there when I get up every morning. Find a way to tell me “good luck on your match kid,” without actually being there next to me. Find a way for us to live together because going to bed alone is too much for me to handle,” He answered.
“I can always maybe you know get a job as a road agent…” Shawn suggested lightly.
Hunter laughed bitterly, “Yea, we both know how well that would work. You would torment yourself until you convinced yourself that there was one more match in you. Which then in turn would make me feel guilty; it would better to teach you to use a phone.”
Defeated, Shawn leaned back and sent a prayer up to the heavens so that maybe, just maybe his God would provide the answers he sought out. How to fix Hunter’s heart and his life.
“So not what?” Shawn asked quietly as he made his eternal prayer.
Hunter just shrugged, his eyes half glazed over, starring at a black spot on the wall with no expression apparent on his face, “I suppose we cook dinner- well you cook, I’ll chop vegetables and we’ll see what happens next.”
--
They ate in silence, they never ate in silence. Shawn was not one for silence at the dinner table, dinner was a time to connect and chat about the day’s bringing. However, when he even had tried to strike up a conversation, Hunter would just play with his food and pretend to listen. Finally, Shawn just gave up trying to make conversation.
Another sign, another sign that Shawn had missed, he wondered would they even need to bother to break up officially because this seemed to be a good indication that their relationship was non-existent. Maybe he would need Bret after all, if not to cry to like he was a teenage girl losing their first official boyfriend.
“This is good Shawn, you make a good salmon. Hell, I didn’t know you could make salmon,” he mumbled quietly.
Of course Hunter didn’t, they never had a barbeque to use on the road, and it wasn’t like they ever had to visit each other before. Shawn laughed, he would think after dating someone for twelve years that they would know that you could fucking barbeque.
“God, God that’s so…” Shawn couldn’t help himself, he could not contain his mirth.
“So what Shawn?” Hunter demanded anger now apparent in his tone, and a scowl heavily weighing on his glorious face, “How the fuck was I funny?”
“We’ve been, god Hunt, we’ve been together for twelve years and you didn’t even know that I could girll. Sure you fucking knew I could cook because occasionally we could secure a hotel room with a stove but we’ve never actually barbequed together before.”
At this Shawn finally collapsed, tears started lightly streaming down his face. It was like the light had come on, without wrestling and everything tiny thing that fit into that box, they knew absolutely nothing about each other.
The only time Shawn had met Hunter’s parents was during Wrestlemania, the only time Hunter had met his was over Wrestlemania. Their knowledge of each other lived in this tiny box that had for years threatened to escape but never had until the moment Shawn retired. And now all that was left was some cold, bitter, sad, ironic feeling that sometimes wrestling was a real bitch.
Shawn then found himself sobbing in Hunter’s chest. His broad chest covered in this polo shirt, fuck Shawn didn’t even know that Hunter wore polo fucking shirts.
“You always dress like this when you have time off?” He asked in between his fits of sobs.
“Yea, I’m not one for sports and I can’t stand wearing wrestling t-shirts, I feel like a walking advertisement. Besides, I’m a gay man in case you didn’t know,” Hunter answered.
“Nah, you’re fucking bi- that doesn’t explain the clothing choice.”
“Shawn, I might like chicks but my fashion sense is as fucking homosexual as it comes,” Hunter informed him, “I spend 600 dollars on a shirt if I think it’ll make my muscles look more youthful.”
Shawn felt his mouth drop open, “You’re that guy?”
Hunter nodded his head in confirmation, yea he was fucking that guy.
“Did I just, somehow miss that?” He wondered amazed.
Hunter shrugged while running his hand through Shawn’s remaining hair.
“I feel like I’m meeting his person that I’ve known before. I feel like you’re a stranger…” Shawn confessed, almost in pain over the admission.
“I don’t think I am though,” Hunter told him mildly disappointed, “Sure there’s shit that I don’t know about you but you, Shawn, will always be YOU.”
That was one thing that quite possibly was true, Shawn knew. He was just himself, and that- who he was just was never a secret to anyone with half a brain. But this guy, maybe he wouldn’t have been so surprised if he knew how truly different Hunter could be when he wasn’t required to be Vince’s puppet.
“We’re not breaking up.”
“What?” Shawn whispered harshly almost afraid to even bring up the lingering doubt and pain he felt.
“We’re not, I know that’s what you think but Shawn, I didn’t break up with you. I just didn’t know what to say anymore,” he said quietly.
“You’re not leaving me because I left?” Shawn said almost pleadingly.
“No! No, you made your choice, I didn’t think I would hate it but Shawn, I could never do that.”
Shawn felt the bile back in his throat again, “Do you love me?”
“Of course, what kind of question is that?” He asked.
“I just, I mean I know but I wonder if you would if we were always together. Like really together in the real world. Outside of a square with rope attached. I always worried that our relationship wouldn’t survive my retirement. And so far you had just appeared to confirm it. By being so hurt that I wasn’t around, to me not knowing that you were that polo shirt, pink wearing, sunglasses owning fashion guy; I just didn’t know if we were stronger than this because up until this point all we had to know was the basics,” Shawn said finally.
And voicing that fear never felt so damn good before, the silence that replaced it though for the next several minutes did not make him as good.
“Shawn… follow me,” Hunter said gently placing his plate in the sink and motioning towards the couch.
----
“Shawn, what’s my favorite color?”
“Blue- well ocean blue to be exact,” Shawn responded.
Hunter nodded, “Why is blue my favorite color?”
“Because it brings you back to the summers you spent up in Maine by the coast fishing with your grandfather,” He answered with smile.
Hunter smirked, “Your favorite is green, right?”
“Of course it is! What kind of question is that?” Shawn inquired.
“Well I mean we changed the DX colors to green and black because you liked green, right?”
Shawn confirmed it.
“You’ve always liked regular green not forest green or neon green or yellow green but green because it reminds you of the color of your dad’s army suit. And because we’re the DX army, our colors had to be just that green,” Hunter told him.
“Tell me something, I don’t know.”
This was getting weird, Shawn didn’t understand this. First he thought Hunter had asked to come see him to break up with him formally after two weeks of pure silence. Then, during dinner he basically ignored Shawn after a series of disturbing images came to light upon his arrival. Only to find himself sitting on the couch by the TV talking about FAVORITE COLORS of all things, what any of this had to do with a fight, he hadn’t the faintest idea.
“Okay, what’s my sister’s name?”
“Lynn.”
“My mother?”
“Patricia.”
“Your favorite sibling is your sister Shari. You never met your grandparents, and your least favorite cousin is named William.”
Shawn looked at him oddly, Hunter was not making a lick of sense and now he was spouting off familial relations.
“What was the worst thing I ever did as a child?”
“You made your mother cry when you were 15 after you hit your father in the jaw and stormed off because he didn’t support the idea of you being a bodybuilder,” Shawn replied.
Hunter shook his head at the memory, he felt like such a jackass that day, “You consider the day you hit your old man for reaming you out the worst thing that happened to you as a kid. You felt like a giant heel and all you wanted to do was quit school.”
“Paul… is there a point to this?” Shawn finally asked.
Hunter nodded but just leaned back further on the couch, into the pillows that he started to rearrange to support his spine better. He motioned for Shawn to do the same, “There’s a point but I feel like we’re gonna be here a while. Might as well make ourselves comfortable.”
--
And it had continued for almost two hours. They had gone from not talking, to Hunter practically breaking down to in his living room, to a silent dinner, and now they were just sitting there quietly unemotionally talking about nothing and everything.
“I feel like I’m missing something,” Shawn confessed after they shared a laugh over a story involving Paul’s 16th birthday.
“Was anything we just talked about new information?”
“No.”
Paul nodded, “Wasn’t for me either. You think we know nothing about each other because you had no idea I dance to my iPod when I vacuum the floor, and you grill some mean fish. Shawn, that’s 40 years worth of history we know about each other. The last two hours have proven it. I know about the time you skinned your knee on your bike when you were 7 and then told your sister that you were never riding a bike again- only to buy a motorcycle at 21 and claim to her it wasn’t a bike.”
Now, it absolute perfect sense what Hunter was trying to tell him.
“Shawn, the important stuff we know. The rest, we can learn. Okay, the fact that you leave dead deer in the house creeps me out some but I’m sure during election season you’ll want to beat my democratic head in,” Hunter began.
“Hey, don’t knock hunting.”
“I’m being stared at by a headless creature that was once ALIVE.”
“You are far too Northerner for your own good,” Shawn retorted.
“At least, I don’t kill Bambi and brag about it,” Hunter countered.
Shawn laughed, “That still doesn’t fix the very large elephant in the room.”
“No, no it doesn’t but I wanted you to know that this wasn’t so I could break up with you, ride on my laurels back to New Hampshire and never return,” He said softly, “Right now, it’s tough. I’m not gonna lie to you- I have no idea how to fix the elephant and I have no idea how to mend my heart right now but that doesn’t mean we’re over.”
The bile was back, and this time Shawn was getting a little misty, this might have reassured him that today he wasn’t getting his ass dumped but that still reminded him of the sight before him. The long worn face of his longtime best friend in every sense of the word, the face that said he was tired of life and all of its drama. Hunter’s ghostly appearance, a painful reminder that he had not been okay when he came to stay and would not be when he left either.
“Why can’t there just be a guide book about what to do with your partner when you retire from professional wrestling?” Shawn joked sadly.
“I don’t know but right about now, I’m wondering how each and everyone of those married jackasses can stand to leave their wives behind and hit the road for 250 days a year,” Hunter told him honestly.
“They have an advantage kid, they fucking live in the same house and they also never had to survive on the road either unless they were one of the chosen few who married a diva,” Shawn pointed out, “We’re the complete parallel, they can’t offer us any advice because they haven’t been where we have and they can actually come home to each other.”
Hunter sighed, and that was the bottom line. Ever since his brother in law had died, Hunter was needed back home for his sister, her children, and their parents. Shawn, god help him had his 80 something year old parents who were too old to be supporting themselves and Shawn the most financially successful child felt the need to be responsible for their care. Quite the mess for 40 year old “bachelors” who had yet to truly inform their parents of how their connection actually went, how to even have that conversation was beyond them at this point.
“Have you ever maybe considered that your sister offered to take your parents out of your hands…”
“Are you saying, I should what just hand them over like they’re a piece of property?” Shawn demanded.
“No! It’s just, I don’t have three siblings, I have just the one who really can’t raise two kids alone. That’s where I spend my days off with her, and them being the responsible uncle. But if let yourself be free of this only responsibility you have here… I mean you don’t work anymore, you don’t have a farm, and okay you’ll need a new church but even New Hampshire has conservative churches,” Hunter added.
Shawn sighed, “Hunt… I just don’t know if I can do that. My parents, hell our parents, they just know we’re friends. God we’ve been, they think were just road buddies. They have no idea we’re dating, or that we have been for fifteen years. Mine are convinced that when I joined a church that must have become a priest and not told them because they’re under the opinion I’m celibate. Even though I’ve insisted that I have a healthy sex life. And yours well, I haven’t faintest idea but they seem to be under the same idea about you.”
“Nah, they’re just convinced I whore myself out to the female fans.”
“You mean that’s not true?” Shawn gasped.
“It is but you know, it’s been a while since I’ve actually picked one up at the bar,” Hunter confessed.
“Blasphemy.”
“Don’t worry, I intend to get laid tonight so it’s okay. My dick will survive the hurt.”
Shawn smirked, Hunter might be on the verge of a breakdown but his pecker definitely was not, “Does this getting laid mean anything for me too?”
Hunter stood up from the couch and held out his hand, “I think there might even be a formal hand offering invitation to shed that pesky priesthood out of your system. And if we can’t, I can always pretend to be a 15 year old school boy, and you could always become a catholic.”
Shawn snorted, “That was not funny.”
“Then why are you smiling Father Michael?”
“Bastard.”
----
(6 days later)
“Hey Shawn, how are things?”
“Good Bret, just doing some spring cleaning,” Shawn answered taping up another box.
“Work things out then?” Bret asked.
Shawn smiled, “Moving to New Hampshire sometime in the next two weeks or so.”
“What changed?”
“I realized maybe it was time for my sister to take care of my parents. Told them about Hunter and said I’m sorry but I have to go and be with him. My father is struggling with this new development but it could have gone much worse. He gets I’m 44 almost 45 and that if I have been this way for over fifteen years now chances are there’s no going back,” Shawn explained.
He tied up another bag of trash and went to walk it to the curb, this was best cleaning job he had time for in over twenty years. What retirement could do for a guy and his house!
“And the road issues?”
Shawn sighed, “Hunter’s got some adjustments to go through. He said that two weeks of trying to function on his own as much as it killed him really helped him start over like it was 1998 only with the obligations of making sure I stayed sober. He’s trying to do new things, and make new friends. And after ten years I can’t imagine that’s easy but I’m going to have to learn the same shit when I move out there with his family. I’ll have kids around me for the first time in a long time, and I’ll have to like be a son-in-law kind of.”
Bret couldn’t help but laugh at that, “Scared shitless?”
“Yes. Kids, an active family, dogs! Dogs! Hunter has two fucking dogs. You know the last time I had a pet? 1982. I don’t know what I’m going to do with a dog. He insists it’ll save him money though, because now he doesn’t need to hire a dog walker. His poor nephew just lost his extra allowance in one foul swoop,” Shawn remarked shaking his head.
Hunter would be rehiring his damn walkers probably in a matter of days once he realized Shawn knew as much about dogs as he did farming. Though, telling him that now might make the man regret having him move in.
“Look at this way, your house will never look better because you aren’t gone six days a week. You can do laundry and sleep and not feel rushed to catch a plane or a ride. You can make friends, join a church, and go shopping like a normal person. Retirement could be the best thing that ever happened to you,” Bret added.
It was true, Shawn was really getting the better deal of out this but what really what truly made him know they were going to be okay was what he hadn’t already told Bret nor his parents.
“Oh it will be, Hunter has decided not to sign a new contract, he’s two years left! And then we might even adopt,” he reported.
“Really?”
“Yea, we decided to make a strong go of it. All of it, which meant that he had to quit too. That was truly the only way this was going to work out for him. I’m fine but by himself new friends or not, Hunter will just go insane. And I can’t text him every second of every day but we’re certainly trying that whole texting and email bit to get us through this,” Shawn said.
“Guess you got your happily ending after all.”
“Well yea, at least until I have to walk the damn dogs.”
----
End.