I hate you, really and truly hate you. But, I love you. I'm beyond the point of askin' myself why I'm so fucked in the head, cuz we both know the answer to that question. I love you. At least this time you remembered to pick me up from the airport. Sometimes I have to call ya three or four times, and then ya pick up the phone all out of breath like ya just ran a marathon, and ya answer the same way every time I ask if you forgot…

"Sorry, Matty," you always say, your voice softening just a little, that grin of yours plastered across your face. "I wadn't payin' 'tention to the time. I'm on my way now." And I sit in the airport, waiting for you to make the hour long drive in 30 minutes or less - Jeff Hardy, the Domino's of airport pick-ups. Okay, so you usually make it there in 45, but we both know you break every speed limit in the state of North Carolina.

I can't count the number of speeding tickets I've had to pay for ya, simply because you can never make it anywhere on time. You was born late, and ya been that way ever since. People always kid ya that you're gonna be late to your own funeral. I 'member the day you told me that wasn't gonna happen, cuz you weren't having a funeral.

"When I die, Matty, jus' wrap me in foil and prop me up in the corner of ya bedroom," you said, slightly drunk, or high, or whatever you were at the moment, and smilin' like a goddamn fool. "I can be my own greatest work a art!" I shook my head and tried to explain to ya that it don't work that way, that after a while, you'd start stinkin' up the place, much like ya do with those lame jokes and stupid questions you always ask.

For whatever reason, that bit of information had never crossed your mind, but you thought it was funny anyway. You laughed so hard ya fell over in your chair, and hit the floor like a sack of potatoes. When I carried ya out of the hotel bar and back to your room, the other guys just looked at me, shakin' their heads. I can hear 'em now - 'them Hardy boys just ain't right in the head.'

Course we ain't right in the head - we're a couple of incestuous, backwoods Southern boys, cursed by fate and blessed by good looks and that irresistible charm. Add a whoppin' dose of Mattitude and a bit of the extreme, and there ya go. If we were any other way, would they still love us? Don't know, cuz that ain't something I spend a lot of time contemplatin'. I got better things to do with my time.

Like gettin' home as quick as I can and gettin' you out of those god-awful overalls you're wearing, then throwin' ya down on my bed and screwin' your brains out. Ridin' in a car with you in an experience. I gotta keep one eye on the road and the other on you, cuz I never know what the hell you're gonna do next.

Like right now - you've got one foot on the dashboard and the other on the floor, drummin' your fingers on your thigh to the beat of that damn Goo Goo Dolls song playin' on your CD. You're singin' along with the words, and your voice sounds so sweet. The color is gone from your hair - it needs to breath ever once in awhile, you always say - and it's pulled back from your face with one of my bandanas, 'cept for that one strand that never stays put and falls over your left eye.

I'm tryin' to drive, and I'm resistin' the urge to reach over and push that piece of hair off your face, but I know if I do, if I touch you right now, I'm a goner. You look over at me, peerin' over the top of your sunglasses, and ya smile, singin' louder than before, and I watch your lips as they form around the words and start thinkin' of a much better use for that mouth a yours. Yeah, I'm a disgusting pervert, but I don't really care right now.

We ain't seen each other in a couple weeks, not since the pay-per-view, when you slapped the hell outta me on TV, then fretted over me later cuz my face was startin' to bruise a little. I went to South Africa, and you…well, I ain't sure I wanna know what you were doin' while I was gone. I'm almost afraid to get to my house, cuz every time I leave for a long time, you decide to redecorate some room or other. Hell, the house is brand-new, what more can we do to it?

I notice ya smilin' at me out of the corner of my eye, and I wonder what you're up to. Cain't do nothin' but smile back, cuz you are too damn irresistible. The bad thing is, ya know it. You know that you can look at anybody - male or female - and smile that little boy smile a yours and have 'em eatin' outta the palm of your hand in less time than it takes for the Dudleys to clear an all-you-can-eat buffet. You truly are one of a kind, baby.

I watch as ya unbuckle your seatbelt and lean over, layin' your head on my leg and sighin' like a cat in the windowsill on a warm spring day. I drop my hand down and stroke your hair and face, feelin' the electricity that jumps from your skin to mine, and every part of my body starts to tingle, just from that simple touch.

Your hair is soft, so you musta done one of your conditionin' treatments on it. I love it when it's like this - dark, soft, all natural. I know if I leaned down and smelled it, there would be a faint scent of ginger. The rest of ya would smell like Ivory soap, the only thing ya ever use to bathe with. Guess it's one a those things left over from when we was kids, but I love it more'n anything.

From the way you're breathin', I can tell you're dosin' off. But even in your sleep, your hand is curled around my thigh, your fingers movin' just a little, squeezin' the muscles in my leg. Damn. Even somethin' simple like that, just knowin' that your fingers are that close, makes me hard. I speed up a little and I'll be damned if you don't start smilin'. You ain't sleepin', are ya?

I don't have to ask out loud, cuz I can feel your hand creepin' up my leg, the tips of your fingers brushin' over the bulge of my cock, and I have to take a couple deep breaths to control myself. "Whatcha doin' there, Jeffrey?" You close your eyes real quick and breath deeper, so I think you're sleepin' again. Hell, who am I to stop ya?

We pass the exit off Highway 1 for Sanford, and I whisper to ya. "Almost there, baby. Twenty miles to go." You sigh again, happier this time than before, and I feel your fingers tryin' to work my zipper. I reach down and put my hand over yours, stoppin' ya. You look up at me, poutin' like a spoiled baby, and I smile.

"Patience," I say, and you answer the same way ya always do. "Is somethin' I ain't got." To prove your point, you push down on my leg, forcin' the gas pedal down. I check the speedometer and look around to make sure the highway patrol is takin' its daily donut break, cuz right now we're doin' about 90 miles an hour. I ain't sure what you got planned for when we get home, but it must be good if we have to risk our lives to get there.

I pull into the driveway and ain't even got the car in park before you're jumpin' out the door and runnin' up the steps to my front door. I start to get the bags from the trunk, but you're wavin' at me like crazy, so I figure there ain't nothin' in 'em that can't wait a little while, 'specially after you step inside the door and drop your overalls right there in the hall.

I sprint across the driveway and take the three steps to the porch in a single leap. You grab me and pull me into the house, knockin' us both over. I kick the door shut and kiss you hard, feelin' you wiggle underneath me. It takes me a few minutes to realize that you're tryin' to get your clothes off, so I help out, pulling your legs free and tossin' those nasty things into the dining room. One of your shoes is still on your foot, so I take that off and toss it, too.

You start gigglin', and you wrap your legs around me, pullin' me back down to rest between your thighs, and even through the thickness of my shirt, I can feel how wet you are. Your cock is leakin' real bad, and I reach down, swipe my finger across the tip then suck on it. I ain't tasted you in so long, and that's the only thing I can think about right now.

That simple little touch is all it takes to get you goin'. You start pullin' on my hair, kissin' me real hard, your tongue knockin' against my teeth, my tongue - hell, even my tonsils. I sit up on my knees, as best I could with you wrapped all around me, and stand up, cradlin' your sweet ass in my hands, and carry you up the stairs.

Your lips and hands are everywhere - neck, ears, chest. Then I hear that sweet voice a yours whisper in my ear, "I want you so bad." My thoughts exactly. I get to my bedroom, and kick open the door, then stop and stare. You start gigglin' again, watchin' my face as I survey your artwork. The room is draped with Christmas lights so it looks like tiny rainbows fallin' everywhere.

There are satin sheets on the bed and a couple candles are on the dresser. You slide outta my arms and run over, lighting them, and the room is immediately filled with the scent of ginger and vanilla. With that cat-like grace, you walk back to me and start unbuttonin' my shirt, your hands runnin' over ever inch of skin as you pull it back off my shoulders and throw it across the room, careful to avoid the flames on the candles.

Your hands cup my face and your lips meet mine in a tender kiss that reminds me of cotton candy. You're sweet and sticky, and I recognize the taste of your bubble gum flavored lip balm. I could get lost in these moments - just kissin' you is enough for me sometimes. But not now - now we both want - no, need - more. You musta read my mind, cuz before I know it, I'm just as naked as you, and you're pullin' me along, walkin' back toward the bed.

After you lay down, you slide across to the center of the bed and put one arm behind your head, reachin' down with the other and strokin' yourself. I close my eyes and take another deep breath, then slowly open my eyes to just stand there and watch ya. People are always talkin' bout how ya look, that you just ooze sex, and right now, those people would be right.

You're absolutely fuckin' beautiful at this moment. I ain't sayin' you're anything but beautiful any other time, but this - this is true beauty at its finest. Your left leg is drawn up and your right leg is layin' on the bed, bent at the knee. Through half closed eyelids, you're watchin' me watchin' you, as your hand strokes up and down the stiffness of your cock. Without thinkin', I lick my lips when ya rub your thumb over the head, spreadin' the slickness around.

You open your eyes and stare straight at me, your mouth slack from pleasure. In a voice that seems much too deep for your little body, you speak. "Ya gonna stand there all day, or do ya plan on helpin' me with this problem I got?" The Hardys might be crazy, but we ain't stupid.

I practically jump onto the bed and knock your hand away, replacin' it with mine. I stroke the base of your cock, always amazed at the size of it compared to the rest of ya. It ain't no secret that you're this little bitty thing, all sleek and slender, but your cock - it's somethin' reserved for a man of a much larger stature.

I feel your thumb strokin' the skin over my jaw, and I know what ya want. With a skill born from years of practice, I open my mouth and take ya into my throat, suckin' as much of you as I can and strokin' the rest. I'm secure enough in my manhood to admit that, as soon as I taste your sweet, salty juice on my tongue, I'd be willin' to beg like a bitch in heat just to taste all of you.

You reach out and grab my legs, pullin' my crotch to your face and you take me into your mouth, and we're content to just lay there, suckin' each other. Wine me, dine me, 69 me. You have a bumper sticker that says that hangin' over your piano at home. It's your lucky number, ya always say. Hell, it's mine too.

I can feel you quiver, the muscles in your legs shake, your stomach trembles. I also feel your fingers as they slide into me effortlessly, and I decide it's time to return the favor. This noise escapes your lips around my cock, the vibrations drivin' me up the wall. Like a couple of synchronized swimmers, both of us find that spot and start workin' it like nobody's business.

After a few minutes of tappin' my fingers inside you, I see your balls start to tighten and you pull outta my mouth fast. I look up at ya and you smile, motionin' to me. My fingers slide out as easy as they went in and I crawl up next to you, grabbin' the lube from the nightstand before layin' next to you and kissin' you once again.

The sound of the cap poppin' fills the room, followed by moans as your fingers find their way back into me. I stroke your cock, nice and slow, lubin' it up as good as I can before I grab mine and do the same. You just smile at me and nod as I move to position myself at the entrance to the only heaven I've ever known, and slide into your tight, sweet heat.

I grab both your wrists and pin them above your head while I pump into you over and over. Your legs are around my waist again, pullin' me closer still, and I lean down to kiss you. You're on the brink, at that place between sanity and ecstasy, and there ain't nothin' more beautiful than watchin' you try to keep it together when all you wanna do is fall apart.

Your eyes lock on mine and I know you know that I'm about to lose it. Without a word, you urge me on, nippin' at the skin on my neck and tightenin' your legs around my waist. With a strangled moan, I shoot into you, screaming your name as you loosen your grip on me and reach for your cock, holding it steady. I pull out of you quickly, still shootin' my load and I impale myself, ridin' you like one a them rodeo cowboys goin' for the record.

One hand reaches down and grabs my hip, tryin' to steady my rhythm, while the other wipes the sticky goo from your stomach, lickin' your hand clean. The sight of you tastin' me from your own hand makes me crazy and I lean forward, kissin' you roughly while I slam my ass onto your cock over and over. I'm still hard, so you wrap your hand around my cock and stroke me fast.

You start moanin' my name, over and over, like it's the only word you know. S'ok, cuz right now, I can't remember what it is, much less anything else. Your hand tightens around my cock and I know you're there. And with two words, we both slip over into that place where nothing exists but the sound of our screams, and our bodies slappin' together like a thunderous round of applause.

We don't say much after, just lay there, holdin' each other, kissin' whatever body part our lips land on. It's these moments that make everything we done in the past worth it. Bein' away from each other as much as we are makes it all the better when we can just lay here, lovin' each other like this.

Later we can get up, unload the car, go to the store and take care of all the stuff that builds up when we're on the road. Later we can worry about all the aches and pains, all the lonely nights away from each other, and everything we do to just be what we are.

I wanna tell you that I love you, that I don't know what I'd do without you and these times together that I cherish more'n anything. But right now, you're sleepin', so I guess it'll just have to wait. We ain't gotta be anywhere until Saturday, and I got three days to spend just lovin' you.

Wake up, what you been dreaming about
I ain't got a lot to say, but I could talk to you for hours
The way you talk, the way you breathe
The way that your spirit moves into me
Wake up, wake up, wake up, wake up
I got three days to wash the road out of my soul
I got three days to love you out of control
And I wish I had a lifetime to hold onto you this way
Love can do some healing, in just three days
Yeah, hold me and help me understand
Why on earth I have to be such a stupid man
To live the way I do, dream the dreams I dream
So far away from you, yeah
Hold me, hold me, hold me, hold me
Three days and nights to put some life back in this man
I ain't holding nothing back
You got all I am
Hearts and souls and dreams in the palm of your hand
I got three days to wash the road out of my soul
I got three days to love you out of control
And I wish I had a lifetime to hold onto you this way
Love can do some healing, in just three days