Life Imitating Art

1.

"What the hell are you doing?"

Mark lurched out of his chair, clutching the laptop to his chest. It often surprised him how, despite his immense size, Kane could creep as quietly as a caterpillar. It was unsettling. Unnerving. And a pain in Mark's ass. "I told you not to do that! You nearly gave me a heart attack!"

"You have no heart, Mark." Suspicious, Kane eyed the device his brother held. To his knowledge, Mark was not a "device" kind of guy. He could barely program the coffee maker. Being in possession of a laptop could only spell trouble for the world at large. "Now answer my question. What the hell are you doing?"

"Would you believe," started Mark, "that I'm shopping for your birthday present online?"

Kane shook his head. "No. For three reasons." He ticked them off on his fingers. "One: You don't shop. Not unless absolutely necessary. Two: You've never given me a birthday present. Or anyone else, for that matter. And last: You don't do 'online'. You'd probably try to put postage on an email."

Glowering, Mark took umbrage to his brother's low view of his computer skills. Granted, said skills were limited. Nonetheless, they did exist. "I'll have you know I am quite savvy when it comes to technological progresses."

"Really?" Kane was still disbelieving. He knew his brother as well as he knew himself. Mark had something to hide and Kane would sniff it out. "What's an IP address?"

In truth, Mark had no idea what an IP stood for, let alone why it would need an address. However, he would not give Kane the satisfaction of seeing him stumped. "Go to hell," spat Mark. "Take a toothbrush."

Kane knew he had his brother cornered. "Show me what you're doing before I slip dye into your shampoo and turn you whole head purple."

"It's none of your concern," Mark assured him.

"I get concerned when you tell me it's none of my concern. If you're looking at porn, just tell me and I'll leave you… to your device."

What he was perusing was not porn. Per se. Some were a bit on the risqué side. Some were just flat-out funny. Kane would have to learn about it someday. It would be better if it came from his family.

Mark handed Kane the laptop. "You'd better sit down, baby brother."

As seconds ticked by, transforming into minutes, Kane's eyes grew bigger and bigger. His jaw dropped open. His brain screamed for him to stop reading. For the love of God, stop reading!

"How did you…" sputtered Kane. "Where did you… I never did that!"

Mark was well aware of the mind-blowing visions unfolding before his brother's eyeballs. And that particular parcel was just the tip of the iceberg. "Oh, it gets better," Mark chuckled.

"How?" hollered Kane. "Do I impale myself on one of the pyrotechnic cannons?"

"No… But Chris Jericho does impale himself on your –"

"Mark, please!" Kane shut the laptop. Distraught, he shoved it back at his brother. Never in the history of their relationship had he so much as lent Chris Jericho a stick of gum. The two of them were barely cordial. They traveled in completely different circles. Chris hung out with the Hardys along with a bunch of other faces. Kane roamed in an orbit all his own. As of late, Chris seemed to be avoiding Kane all together.

A sickening thought entered Kane's head. "Mark? Please, please tell me you're the only one who knows about this."

"Sorry, baby brother." Mark didn't know Kane could scream that loud. "If it makes you feel any better, you're not the only subject on that site. They run the gamut of pairings. Even you and I have been together."

Kane was on the verge of ripping his hair out. "But you're my brother! I barely like you! Why would I have sex with you?"

"That's your only hang up?" Mark raised a dark eyebrow. "Being a jackass renders me unfuckable. And for your information, I seem to be the top in ninety-nine percent of those interactions. And you take it like a champ."

"In the state I'm in," growled Kane, "there's not a jury in the world that would convict me of murdering you."

Mark smirked, "You going for the 'crime of passion' defense, sweet cheeks?"

"Marcus!" Funnily enough, his brother had been right. The internet was the spawn of the devil and the eventual downfall of mankind. "This is not funny!"

"It's a little bit funny," said Mark. "I'm not bent out of shape because, while I love you in my own special way, I have never been inclined to bend you over a picnic table. If these folks want to portray us as having some secret love affair, then let them. Some of those stories are very, very entertaining. The question you should be asking yourself is not why they would concoct such scenarios. Why are you so affected by them?"

"Because they could never happen!" Kane could not understand why his brother could be so thick sometimes. His reasons were pretty clear. "It's impossible!"

Head titled to the side, Mark inquired, "Because you don't want Jericho?"

"Because Jericho doesn't want me!" The words were out before Kane could clamp his mouth shut around them. They bounced off the walls and assaulted his ear drums.

Sagely, Mark nodded his head. "Uh huh… You sure about that, big boy?"

A knock at the door kept Kane's brain from having to travel down that dangerous path.

Swinging the door open, Jeff Hardy's head poked into the room. "Hey, Mark, are you done with my computer?" He suddenly spotted Kane and his eyes grew to the size of bowling balls. Mark feared the young man was about to have a heart attack. Or shit his pants. "Kane… Hey… How's it… Hey…" Having run out of words, the Hardy simply shut his mouth. Mark thought that was for the best.

"I think we're gonna be a while longer," explained Mar. "This site is pretty extensive. Plus, my brother's a slow reader."

It wasn't that Mark delighted in his brother's discomfort. Well, perhaps a small part of him did. He was the Lord of Darkness, after all. Harley or no. Due to a number of circumstances – many of which Mark had been a driving force behind – Kane had built a protective shell around himself. Nothing got in. Mark was not the type to converse, at length, about his feelings. However, he had a strong sense that, without outside intervention, his baby brother would grow old and die alone. Mark could not have that on his conscience. Especially now that he knew Kane had a type.

Blond and arrogant.

To each his own…

Standing, Kane handed the laptop to Jeff. "I'm done," he declared. He had made a fool of himself in front of his brother and could only imagine the type of thoughts that were running through Hardy's head. Those thoughts were no more bizarre than the ones caused by the text he'd been subjected to. Kane knew that there were some twisted people out there. Even in his wildest dreams, Kane could not come up with some of those scenarios.

Jeff took the computer without a word. He had no idea what kind of shitstorm he had walked into, but he knew enough to keep his mouth shut.

"I'll see you back at the hotel," Kane addressed his brother over his shoulder. "Or at your funeral. Whichever comes first."