Rating: R
Original Date of Completion: 2003
Pre-Story Explanation: In Rollerwriter's Fic "Party Hard" I've been fictionalized, as a college student at a college where all the Detroit Red Wings happen to go. Fictionalized Me dates Kirk Maltby, but he treats FM like crap, and calls him his "manwhore." That leads us into this tag.
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I don't even know what I'm doing as I'm doing it. I don't know what could possess me to stoop this low. Out of all the guys I could have to teach him a lesson (And there are a lot, rest assured, I'm quite a legend on campus) I choose his brother. His 16-year-old brother. Maybe he's right. Maybe I am just a manwhore.
Shawn is such a sweet kid. And he's enjoying the hell out of himself. He's nowhere near being better than Kirk as he'd said he was, but nonetheless, I'm enjoying myself too. But still in the back of my mind I'm screaming "What the fuck are you doing?" I don't know what's driving me, and that kind of freaks me out. I guess it's hurt. He said he loved me, but it was all a lie. Boyd, one of the few guys on that team that actually has a soul, told me all about it. I didn't want to believe him, but I guess deep down I already knew. I loved Kirk, so much that it scared me. Thats why I put up with it. But I don't think that was why I'm doing it.
Maybe it's anger from the situation with Brett and Ryn? I didn't want to lie to her, but I did. Brett's my friend, and I'm worried about him. I should've told her the truth from the get go and let her take care of it. Instead, she found out and now she was pissed at me for lying. That situation had plagued my mind for days now. So bad so, that I'd spent the night with Dom the last three days, in hopes to clear my mind. As expected, it didn't really work. All that caused was even more thoughts shoved into my brain.
Dom was so great. A little weird, but great. He treated me like gold. Not to sound cocky, but I seriously think he worshipped the ground I walked on. He loved me, genuinely. But I couldn't love him. I wanted to so bad, but I just couldn't do it. I didn't have room to love anyone but Kirk, the guy who doesn't deserve it. The guy that treats me like a toy. The guy that literally calls me his manwhore. He doesn't do it to my face anymore, but I know he still does it. The tape recorder under my mattress tells me a lot.
So, I'm scorned, I guess. So what do I do? Fuck his little brother. When he walks in and sees us, I almost want to cry. It's probably phony, but there is hurt in his eyes. He doesn't love me, but I guess it's not okay if I fuck other people. Actually, there's no guessing to that. He got upset that I slept with Sean at the kegger, even though we weren't "together" at the time. I'd made a crack about Lissa, and his bleach bottle, not to his amusement. I'd apologized, and we spent the rest of the night having sex. Afterward, he pulled me in his arms and kissed me softly on my cheek. And then he said he loved me. Then I cried, but he never even noticed.
I didn't want this! Why must I torture myself by falling for a guy who doesn't love me? A guy that could only treat me worse if he spat on me. A guy who hurts me so badly that I go out and fuck his brother, to give him at least a little taste of how he makes me feel. That's it. That's why I did it. I wanted him to know how it felt. I wanted him to know how I hurt.
But I'm sure it was all in vain. I'm pretty fucking stupid to think I could hurt him. I wasn't in a position to. I'd gotten damned good at fooling myself into thinking he actually loved me. I could be like all the girls, and say stuff like "You don't know what he's like when it's just us," And that would be true. He's a total sweetheart when we're alone. But he should've been a drama major because it's all an act. But I keep taking it. Maybe I like it. Maybe I liked being treated like a whore. Everyone always said that's all I'd be, why not prove them right? What better way to do that than what I just did?
I hear them arguing outside the hall. Kirk keeps screaming how I'm his, his manwhore. The words sting. Not as if I didn't already know, but it's confirmed now. I was still nothing more than his manwhore. I try to stifle the tears as I search around for my clothes. You'd think in a room I lived in that would be easy. I locate my boxers and pants and slip them back on. My shirt has seemingly disappeared, so I snatch one from my bed. I just slip it over my head when Kirk walks into the room. I can feel his gaze beating down on me as I walk around the room, gathering a few things to take with me to Dom's. When I walk over toward the bed, he taps me on the shoulder. I turn around to look at him, fighting desperately to keep emotion from my face.
"How could you, James? Why?" He asks, shaking his head.
I feel anger shoot through me from just his words. I glare at him in return, and shake my head.
"Why? Do you even have to fucking ask Kirk? I know you're not that fucking stupid. No one could pull the shit you do and be stupid,"
He snorts a quick laugh and a smirk grazes his face. I roll my eyes and attempt to walk toward the door. He grabs me by the shoulder and spins me around.
"You're not leaving," He states matter-of-factly.
"Oh that's right, I'm your property. You tell me what I can and can't do," I scoff, rolling my eyes again.
"What the fuck is your problem all of a sudden?"
"I'm just your manwhore, why do you care?"
That's the last thing I say before I turn and walk out of the room. I hear his footsteps chasing after me, and don't even turn around to acknowledge him. He yells my name a couple times, but I pay no attention. I know what I'm doing is pointless, but I'm proud of myself for the first time since I met Kirk. I'd go back to it, I knew it. I do stupid things for love. And being his manwhore or not, I loved Kirk. But I'll be damned if I'll be his property. Until you love me, I'll do who and what I want. Speaking of that, I wonder where Mac is....
THE END
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