TITLE: Is That Your Hand On My Boyfriend?!

CHARACTERS: Raven (Scott Levy), Stevie Richards

PAIRINGS: Raven/Stevie

NOTES: Inspired by ‘Next Contestant’ by Nickelback. Takes place in 1995/1996 ECW era.

DISCLAIMER: I do not own these people; I just use them to make everyone else happy!

Raven’s POV

I fucking hate the way he dresses. Stupid little crop top. Stupid little short shorts. Stupid little Stevie. Why does he do this to me? He knows how much I hate seeing other people, both men and women, ogling him like he’s some kind of…fuck toy. He knows that I don’t share with anyone. But does he think about my needs? No. He’s too busy trying to show off his flat tummy, his long, perfect legs.

“Richards?”

“Yes, Rave?” He asks from his place at the mirror where he’s applying eyeliner, glitter, lip gloss, things like that. God, he looks gorgeous.

“How about we stay in tonight? I’m tired of clubbing.” I say, lounging flat on the bed. I’m shirtless, shoeless, on my stomach, waiting for him to come over here and give me a massage for the sore back muscles.

“Okay, you stay here, I’ll go clubbing. Be back in a couple of hours, babe! Miss me!” He yells, his usual goodbye. A swift kiss on my lips and he’s out the door.

I groan softly, now angered. I can’t let him go out to the club by himself, especially when he looks that delicious. Even though my back protests, I slip into one of my many loose tee shirts, yank on my boots, and grab my keys. I’m out the door and in my car before he’s even out of the parking lot. Good, I think, following him to one of his favorite clubs in this town. Dust to Dust is the name. Weird, but yet, comforting.

I wait to see him be admitted to the club before walking up to the bouncer myself. “Hey, Jess. How’s work been?”

“Ah, hey, Raven! Work’s great, as always. Lots of fights to get into and break up, y’know? Of course you do, you used to be a bouncer too, huh?”

I clasp his shoulder. “Yeah, we’re all so tired by the end of the night, but we get to see lots of nice tail, right?”

“Yeah. That reminds me, what’s up with you and Stevie? You come separately, walk in separately. You guys break up or something?” Jess seems very confused. He knows how much I love Stevie and vice versa.

“No, no, he wanted to come tonight and I wanted to stay home. I took a nasty bump today and now my back hurts like a motherfucker.” I shrug. “But he looks so tempting; I don’t want anyone else to touch him.”

Jess nods sympathetically and moves aside to let me pass through the door. I clap him hard on the shoulder in thanks and stride swiftly into the smoky, body-filled room. Within seconds, I spot Stevie. He’s standing at the bar, laughing amusedly at some blond guy’s joke. I feel rage and jealousy begin to boil in my gut as the guy puts his disgusting, sweat-covered hand on my boyfriend’s shoulder. The anger flares up stronger when Stevie doesn’t move to brush it away.

I stomp toward them, intending to break it up when I remember what happened last time I came clubbing with Stevie.

A younger brunette woman and her auburn-haired friend seemed to have taken a liking to us. The auburn one began to not-so-subtlety flirt with me. I told her I was taken and uninterested in a one-night-stand. She understood, after much debate, and moved off. When I turned to Stevie, I was horrified to see him flirting right back with the obviously drunk brunette. I yelled at her to keep off of my boyfriend, he yelled at me to mind my own business, and the night ended without sex and with a new rule that I could not ‘flip out’ when he starts flirting. I disagreed, saying that us dating was a commitment and that he should respect that I don’t want to see anyone else on him. He retorted that he would never cheat on me, because he loves me and his flirting is just for fun.

So I move off to one side. Stevie shouldn’t even know that I’m here anyway; he thinks that I’m at the hotel with a sore back waiting for him to come home. Or sleeping. Or masturbating. Or watching TV. Or on the phone. Or…something like that. Yeah. I order a beer and resign to sitting at one of the small tables, but all the time, I’m keeping one eye on him. And all the contestants for his heart.

Stevie is such a natural flirt; he’s gone through four men and six women before I’ve finished my third beer. I’m sure he told each of them the same thing: ‘I’ll call you; we can hang out next time I’m in town. I’d love to take you to this amazing little restaurant downtown.’ He’s always saying things like that. Before we started dating, he and I would compete to see who could collect the most phone numbers in one night. He was always the clear winner, though. I’m too naturally shy to ask for phone numbers out of the blue.

Another slip of paper finds its way into his jean shorts pocket, and I’m beginning to feel a little neglected. He hasn’t noticed me sitting here yet, surprisingly, though I don’t think it’s hard to mistake my curly brown hair falling into my brown eyes while I stare menacingly upward. Stevie is just such an adorably clueless putz.

I’m surprised when I get a forth beer shoved under my nose and the woman holding it waves her hand toward a familiar dark-haired figure standing by the bar. “He wanted to buy you this and to say that you look real cute and lonely sitting all by yourself. He says that he wants to sit and chat with you, if that’s alright.”

I shrug. Really, I don’t care for picking people up when I’m watching so many people try to do the same thing to my little Stevie.

To my amused horror, Tommy Dreamer slides into the chair across from me. “Hey, Raven. Birdman flying solo for a night? Where’s your pet Stevie?”

“Dreamer.” I acknowledge, sipping at the free beer that he bought for me. “Yeah, I’m tailing the little bastard. Thinks he can flirt with everyone and-fuck.” I mutter, pushing up from the table. One of the guys he had been flirting with had decided that he didn’t want to wait until ‘next time’ Stevie came into town.

Stevie pulls anxiously at the guy’s hand, trying to escape his grip. “Hey, man, c’mon. I have stuff to do! Lemme go! Lemme go, damn it!”

I saunter up to the man. He has a good five inches on me, but I don’t care. “Is that your hand on my boyfriend?” I manage through gritted teeth. “Cause if it is, you better take your hand off of him, before I lose control and possibly hurt you permanently.”

The man’s green eyes practically bug out of his head, and he begins to laugh. I hate being laughed at.

“Let. My. Stevie. Go.” I say, perfectly clear. He continues his horrid laughing and drives me completely over the edge. One of my fists flies forward and connects with his jaw.

Shocked, he releases Stevie, who runs and cradles himself in my waiting arm. I secure my arm around his shaking shoulders and nuzzle his head affectionately. With a grunt, I take a fist to the stomach.

Before I straighten up, however, Tommy has taken over my battle, and Jess is pushing his way through the crowd to break them up. I lightly kiss Stevie’s forehead and ask politely for his keys.

My scared little boyfriend fishes the keys from his pocket and sets them in my waiting hand. I smile and give him another peck on the cheek. “Go wait by the door. I’m gonna have Tommy take your car back to the hotel. Alright, precious?” God, I sound like a pussy around Stevie. I just want to keep the little guy safe. Ha, little, that’s a riot. He’s taller than me for God’s sake.

Stevie nods and hurries off, glad to be out of the public view. Jess ‘escorts’ the man from the building as I walk up to Tommy. “Dreamer? I need a favor.”

Tommy turns to acknowledge me. “What’s that?”

“Can you take Stevie’s red Hyundai to the hotel? He’s freaked out and I’m driving him back in my car. Please?” I shove the keys into his open palm and turn to go back to Stevie when I feel a hand on my shoulder.

“I’ll do it, but first…” Tommy begins, turning me around. “You really do look cute, Birdman.” And his lips hit mine, ever-so-gently.

I push him away, confused. “Dreamer, what the fuck are you thinking? You’re with Beulah fucking McGuillicutty! Why are you kissing me when you know my boyfriend just went through a traumatic experience?”

Tommy shrugs and pats me on the back. “Payment.” He replies simply, smiling in my direction as he walks toward the door. Thank God Stevie didn’t see.

I touch my lips. They’re still tingling from the light contact with Tommy’s. I sigh and hurry down to my waiting Stevie. He smiles when I reach him, pulling me into his warm arms and holding me against his chest. The cutie ducks his head under my chin and kisses my neck lightly. “Let’s go back to the hotel, Scotty. I don’t wanna club no more.”

I stroke his hair and agree before leading him out of the club by the hand. We duck into my car and take an uneventful ride back to the hotel. I wave at Dreamer as we pull in. He’s getting out of Stevie’s car.

Tommy hurries over to us and hands me the keys. Beulah comes running out the front of the hotel, apparently worried. “Tommy! Where the hell were you?!”

Tommy intercepts her in his arms and she beats him lightly on the chest with both fists. “You had me worried sick, Tommy! I can’t believe you!”

“Thanks for the help, Fat Ass. I’m gonna take my boy here up to the room. See ya tomorrow!” I say in goodbye, dragging Stevie behind me to the hotel lobby.

Tommy opens his mouth to protest my nickname, but it is lost to me when I enter the building with my gorgeous Stevie Richards following me. I turn the blonde around, pressing my lips firmly against his. “I never, ever want to see that happen again. Alright?”

Stevie nods, panting. Both his arms go around my neck and he tries to pull me back to him for another kiss.

I shake my head and push him off. “Wait until we get in the room, babe. I wanna get you to bed soon. You fucking scared me, damn it! I thought he was gonna take you away.”

Stevie sighs over-dramatically and takes my hand. I lace our fingers and drag him toward the elevators. We head up to our room, unspeaking.

I finally push him through the door, locking it securely behind me. Stevie stumbles to the bed. He falls down on it and turns to me, probably expecting me to take his clothes and makeup off for him.

I sidle into the bathroom and wet a washcloth. I wipe off Stevie’s handsome face of the eyeliner and glitter, using the pad of my thumb covered in the terrycloth to take off the lip gloss that Stevie insists on applying every time we go out.

We both have a laugh and I press my lips to his. “Babe, why don’t you go ahead and get undressed? I need to take off my own clothes.”

I back away from the bed and pull my shirt over my head. It has a faint trace of smoke and alcohol scent on it. I toe both of my boots off, kicking them like a soccer player into the corner.

Stevie has pried off his own boots; his shirt is lying in a heap next to him on the comforter. I pull him up by his hands, holding him flush against me. If only I was taller, then this would be easier.

Stevie knows my concern, though, and stoops down to duck his head under my chin. I smile and pet his hair. My other hand slowly moves down his back, following a usual path down his spine. Stevie whimpers when the hand dips into the back of the shorts, gently teasing against his behind.

Suddenly, I push him away to unbutton his now too-tight Daisy Dukes. He sighs in relief as I shove them to the floor. He takes off his own navy blue thong, flinging it toward the wall.

With a grunt, Stevie falls to his knees before me and fingers the button of my shorts. “R-Raven? Master, can I…?” He trails off, pointing to my jeans.

I nod with a panting moan. He doesn’t realize how hot it makes me to be called Master. With a gleeful squeal, Stevie pops the button and yanks down the zipper to expose my black, red, and gray plaid boxer shorts. He gives me a quick glance, again I give approval, before tugging the boxers away, too.

I now stand naked before the large form of my Stevie. He stays on the ground, his head hung in submission. I can’t stand it for long, and I tilt his head back up to look at me. His beautiful gray-blue eyes swim in my vision before he lowers his head again.

“Do-do you want me to put your collar on, Stevie? If you don’t want to, we don’t have to…” I begin, but I know that he will be crossing the room in a moment to retrieve the blue braided collar that I bought for him, to show that he was mine when we’re in the locker room.

Some of the other wrestlers, I won’t give names, found Stevie attractive. I found him gagged and unconscious on the floor of the locker room after one of my promos, it had gone exceedingly long. He was naked and had clearly been raped. Instead of going to the paramedic, I chose to take care of him myself. I had his gag out of his mouth and was washing him in the shower when I made the decision. No one would touch him if they knew that he belonged to me. I was the sadist, who knew what I would do if something like that happened again? So the very next day, in plain view of the entire locker room, I strapped the collar around his neck and backed up. He lowered his eyes to the floor and came when I called him to me. He hasn’t been touched since. Funny thing is, Stevie loves it when I put his collar on in the bedroom and treat him like my little dog.

So I’m not surprised when Stevie returns to me, crawling, with the collar firmly set between his teeth. I take it from his mouth, ever so gently, and fasten it around his slender throat.

Stevie continues to stare at the floor in front of him. “Look at me.” I command.

The blonde looks up into my eyes. He gives a faint smile and I can feel my heart melt. Gently, I run my fingers through his silky blond hair, taking a firm grip at the bottom. I tilt his head back further. I lower my head to give him a searing kiss. He complies, letting his mouth fall open slightly.

I pull back, yanking his hair gently. “On the bed.” He scurries to obey, settling himself in the center, head down.

I can't help but smile at the image of Stevie, so submissive and attentive, kneeling and nude in the center of the bed, his wavy blond hair shielding his face and his throat split by the navy blue fabric of his collar. His breathing has increased, I notice as I pace from one side of the bed to the other. I slowly reach out and take a handful of his silky hair in one fist. He tilts his head toward my hand.

I smirk slightly. Stevie lets out a low purring noise deep in his throat as I climb onto the bed next to him. "Stevie..." I whisper.

His spine shivers slightly, yet he continues to smile and purr. I release his hair and push him over backwards. I climb between his wide-spread legs, leaning down to kiss him. I start gentle, getting harder and more demanding as he humps my groin. I growl deep in my throat, thrusting my pierced tongue between his lips. He accepts and arches into me.

When I pull back, I realize how beautiful Stevie really is. His silky hair messy and wild, blue eyes dark and cloudy with lust, perfect skin shining with sweat. He's flawless. It makes me feel inadequate, to be the one loving him. He deserves someone as perfect and flawless as he is. Not me.

I can point out a few major flaws in me right now. My hair is too curly and crazy, no matter what. My eyes are boring brown. My nose is a bit too big. My lips are cracked and chapped. My skin is tattooed and rough. I don't deserve the perfect being beneath me. This isn't the first time I've stopped and thought these things during sex. It certainly won't be the last.

"Stevie...I love you..." I whisper into his ear.

Panting, he replies, "I love you, too, Rave."

With a smirk, I bury a hand into his golden waves and kiss him again.

Stevie fumbles on the nightstand, bringing his hand back holding a bottle of lube. "No more foreplay...need you..."

I can't help but smile. Stevie wants me, needs me, even. I can hardly believe that it's me. Me. I'm the one he loves.

I accept the bottle, popping the top. Quickly, I coat my fingers in the slippery substance. I shush Stevie, even though he isn't making a noise.

Stevie lets his head fall back. I take this opportunity to nibble his neck lightly. "Mine..." I whisper quietly into his skin. He nods his consent, hooking a leg high around my back.

I gently massage the lubricant into the skin around his hole. Stevie lets out a quiet hiss of pleasure, biting one of his perfectly sculpted lips in his brightly white teeth.

"Shhh...." I start again. I know, it really doesn't matter. I just...I feel like it needs to be done. One of my fingers pushes past the first ring of muscle, and I give Stevie a moment to adjust.

He whimpers and bucks against me. "Raven...more...hurry..."

"Shhh..." I push a second finger in. I spread them carefully, again waiting for Stevie's consent to move. "You like?"

Stevie nods, gasping loudly as another finger works into his hole. "Rave...I want you..."

I nod back, grabbing the lube with my free hand. I coat my hard, throbbing length with it and set it against his opening.

Stevie wraps both legs high around my chest, willing me to thrust into him, to own him. Possess him fully.

I oblige, sinking into his tight heat. "Fuuuuck..." I moan out, leaning down to gently bite his collar bone. "Damn, Stevie..."

He whimpers. "Move, Raven...feels good..."

I pull out of him just slightly before sinking back in. "Mmm, baby...You feel so good..."

Stevie lets a smile curve the corner of his mouth. "Fuck me. No more talk. Just fuck me."

I make an 'Are you so sure about that one?' expression as I move into a rhythm. I know he likes it. "Mmm, Stevie. You love this, huh? You love it when I fuck you up the ass, huh? How 'bout I do this in the locker room, huh? You like that?"

Stevie gasps an shakes his head. "Raven..."

I know when he lets out a high-pitched whine that I've found his prostate. "Yeah, Stevie. I'll fuck you up against the lockers in front of everyone. You'd like that, wouldn't you?" I roll my hips gently, hitting his G-spot hard. "You know you would. I'll bend you over in front of everyone and fuck your tight little ass. You'd beg for it."

Stevie moans, his head tossing against the comforter. "Yeah...yeah, Rave...I want to...please..."

I smile. He looks so cute. He's so far gone. I love watching him when he loses all touch with reality. It's so adorable.

"You gonna cum for me, baby? Huh, you gonna cum?"

He nods, eyes shut tightly. He's gasping for air. "Raa....vvv...eeennnnn..." Stevie can hardly even whisper.

"Come on, babe. Cum for me. Cum for Raven."

Stevie cries my name as sticky, pearlescent cum jets from the tip of his cock to cover his stomach.

I can't hold back for too much longer. I grit my teeth and begin my own orgasm, shooting my load deep inside him. What doesn't fit leaks back out around my softening dick. With a quiet groan, I extract myself from him.

Stevie's eyes are shut tightly, his breathing deep and rhythmic. I let my own eyelids flutter closed and begin to pant.

I realize a bit later that Stevie is now staring, wide-eyed at me. "Raven? You okay?"

I nod and smile. Sort of. I almost never smile. But he's so damn cute. "I'm good. Are you, babe? You took quite a fuck. Are you bleeding?"

Stevie shakes his head, grinning. "I'm fine. That was really good."

I nod and wrap my arms securely around his waist as we move back to the pillows. I flick a couple stray strands of damp hair from his forehead. "Now get some sleep." I say, unfastening the collar from his neck. I set it gently on the nightstand.

Stevie's eyes close. I watch him until I'm sure that he's asleep. "My little Stevie." I whisper into his blond locks. "I love you."

I feel my own eyelids begin to droop. I know in a bit that I will fall into my own personal dreamland. The last image that enters my mind is Stevie, laying heavily on my bicep, one hand curled against my shoulder. His eyes are closed and his lips are parted. I fall asleep smiling.