I can't believe I'm even thinking about him.
The man is a slut! A no good, filthy, easy skank. I doubt the word ‘no' is even in his vocabulary; I've certainly never heard him use it on anything with a dick. Hell, the chances of him denying any guy sex are about the same as the chances of me running through the streets of Calgary in nothing but an American flag while screaming ‘Canada sucks'. Could it happen? Sure, and Marlena could outwrestle me.
If I was asked who on the roster he's slept with, I'd have a quicker task of pointing out who he HASN'T been with. He's even been with my own brother! And lovers, or fuck toys, as I should say, are something I'm just not going to share with Owen. He's been with Bulldog and Pillman as well; all three of them together, even! I've been in the next room while that's been going on; Brian even had the nerve to ask me to join in. You better believe I turned that one down flat!
Now, here I am, stranded in some tiny airport in the middle of god knows where, having just done an autograph signing at some dinky little mall. I've got a show to do tomorrow night, but it looks like I'm not gonna make it; not unless the snow which has shut down all the runways lets up damn soon. I've called every person on the company that I can think of, and they've all told me the same thing: just find a nearby hotel, and wait it out. Really, this wouldn't be all that bad....if I wasn't stuck with HIM!
I slam the phone down, turning to glare at Shawn, who's standing quietly a few feet away from me. "What are you looking at?" I growl. He just shrugs, picking up his bag as I grab mine. I frown at him for a moment, then shove my bag at him. "If you're gonna insist on following me around, make yourself useful and carry this," I tell him harshly.
I start off walking, not slowing down as he hurries to catch up, weighted down by both bags. "Vince called the hotel right next to the airport and made us reservations," I inform him. "We have to get over there now or they'll give them away; there's a lot of people stranded here tonight." He just nods and follows.
When we get to the reception desk at the hotel, again I'm left speechless and furious. "What do you mean you only have ONE room?" I growl. "We have reservations!"
"Yes, Mr. McMahon called." The hotel clerk gave me an apologetic look. "I'm sorry Mr. Hart, he was only able to book one room. We're really packed tonight.
"Leave it to Vince to neglect to tell me," I mutter under my breath. "Fine, just give me the key."
"Certainly sir." The clerk hands me the key, which I snatch, still scowling. "It does have a kingsize bed, sir," the clerk offers.
I pause. "Bed?" I just stare for a moment, unable to believe what I just heard. "As in, only ONE bed?"
"Yes, sir." The clerk gazes at me nervously. "I'm sorry, sir, it's all we had."
I throw my hands up in the air, resisting the urge to stomp my foot as I turn away from the desk. "Come on," I growl at Shawn, marching towards the elevators. This night just gets worse and worse! As if it's not bad enough that I'm stuck alone with the biggest slut in the business, now I have to share a room AND a bed with him? I snort, my eyes narrowing. Not damn likely! Shawn can complain about his back all he wants, the skank is sleeping on the couch tonight!
The elevator comes to a stop, and I take off down the hall, paying no attention to Shawn jogging after me. I open the door and go inside, dropping the key onto a table, kicking off my shoes, and flopping down on the kingsize bed. I want Shawn to know from the very beginning that this is where I'LL be sleeping.
Shawn closes the door behind himself, locking it securely. He sets his own bag down on the floor, looking at me questioningly. "Where do you want this?" he asks, indicating my bag.
I give him a dumb look. "Just put it down," I snap.
He sighs, gently setting my bag down beside his. "So, what should we do now?" he asks.
That sure as hell better not be a come on. He's crazy if he thinks I'm interested in a slut like him. I choose my lovers carefully, and Shawn is certainly not going to be joining that short list. Granted, I may have made a few mistakes in the past; the Rock was definitely among them. What can I say? Arrogant ass that he is, the man's a wonderful kisser. For whatever reason, I've always been quite taken with kissing. It's just so wonderfully intimate, really far more than sex itself. I could spend hours curled up with a guy, just kissing him and being kissed in return. That's what broke up Rocky and I in the end; I always preferred to kiss, and he only saw it as a great way to get me into bed. Plus the jackass kept wanting top me, which is just not happening.
"Bret?" Shawn pushes, glazing at me patiently.
I roll me eyes. "I don't care what the hell you do," I tell him. "Just do it quietly, because I'm going to brush my teeth and go to bed."
"Ok," he accepts, taking a seat on the couch. "I think I'll take a shower, but I'll wait ‘til you're done."
I just roll my eyes again, grabbing my toothbrush from my bag and heading for the bathroom. Damn right I'm going first; I'm not about to wait a half hour for the little diva to take his time in the shower. I brush my teeth quickly and efficiently, quickly finishing up in the bathroom and heading back into the main room. I take my toothbrush with me, slipping it back into my bag to make sure that Shawn can't touch it. The last thing I need are his germs in my mouth.
I walk over to the bed, waiting until Shawn has entered the bathroom and closed the door before I undress. I strip down to my boxers, tossing the rest of my clothes onto a nearby chair and climbing into bed. Too late, I realize that the room light, which is controlled by a switch near the door, is still on. Groaning, I tear myself away from the warmth of the covers, padding over and quickly shutting off the light, then leaping back into bed. Shawn better to able to find his way around in the dark, because if he wakes me up by turning on the damn light, I am not going to be happy.
I close my eyes, taking a deep, calming breath and trying to forget the stress of this day. I try and relax, not even close to sleep yet when the door opens and Shawn walks softly out of the bathroom. I keep my eyes closed, hoping he'll be smart enough to not try and join me in the bed. Unfortunately, his feet pad over to the edge of the mattress.
"Bret," he whispers.
"What?" I growl, not opening my eyes.
"You're in the middle of the bed," he tells me.
Apparently, the man's not smart enough to take a hint. I turn my head, slitting my eyes open to glare at him. "So?" I mutter.
"I don't have enough room," he replies.
I snort. "You mean you actually think I'm sharing a bed with you? Hit the couch and be quiet, I'm trying to sleep." I turn my head away from him, closing my eyes again. I don't hear him moving. Great.
"It's a big bed," he says after a moment.
"Yeah, lots of room for me to stretch out." I turn to glare at him, demonstrating a nice stretch.
He fidgets uncomfortably. "Bret, there's no reason we can't share," he tells me. "I'm already sore from matches, I really don't want to take the couch. I'll stay on my side, you stay on yours, ok?"
I point to the dark lump that must be the couch. "Couch," I tell him through gritted teeth. He frowns at me, not moving an inch. "Couch!" I repeat with a growl.
"Please Bret," he says softly. "I won't touch you, I swear."
I sigh in agitation. If I wasn't so tired, I wouldn't even consider it, but I really would like to get to sleep and just end this day. "Fine," I mutter, scooting over as far as I can on the bed. "You stay on that edge, and don't you dare lay one hand on me, you got it? I'm not a whoremonger and I don't like your kind."
"Ok," he says softly, his voice sounding a little hurt. Oh no, he is NOT getting me to feel sorry for him! Scowling in annoyance, I turn my back on him as he climbs into bed, keeping his distance on the other side of the mattress. I lie awake, gazing into the darkness. This is going to be a long night.
I drift back to consciousness, aware even before I open my eyes that the room is now filled with light, the bright, full kind of light that can only come from the sun. I'm about to open my eyes and yawn when I feel it; there's something touching me, against my chest. Against the entire left side of my body, actually.
Oh god. This didn't happen! No, no, no, no! I don't move, seeking refuge in the guise of sleep. It's all coming back to me now...
I had drifted off to sleep, but awoke not much later. I had reached for something on the table by Shawn's side of the bed....I can't remember what now...and I had accidently brushed against his face. His skin was so soft, it intrigued me. I thought he was asleep, so I let my fingers brush across his cheek, the wonderful feel of the forbidden flesh stirring a bit more curiosity in me. My hand was drawn to his lips, my desire to see if they were as soft as the rest of his face.
I had jumped when I felt his lips gently kiss my finger tips, yanking my hand away when I realized that he was awake. I just sat for there a moment, staring at him through the dark. He stayed as he was, his eyes still closed. As I gazed at him, I remembered thinking something along the lines of ‘What the hell? Who will ever know?' All I planned to do was kiss him, to see how those soft lips felt against mine. So, I moved closer to him, well into his side of the bed. I leaned over him, my hand brushing back a lock of soft blonde hair and stroking his neck. My other hand cupped the side of his face as I leaned down and kissed him.
I really only meant to do it once, but it felt so good, I couldn't help continuing it. In all honesty, it's been far too long since I've had a lover, and I really do miss the intimacy of kissing. His lips were so soft, and he responded to me so perfectly, I seemed to completely forget who it was I was kissing. It was dark in the room, and my eyes were closed. In those moments, I didn't feel like I was with a slut, just a soft, warm man who was a wonderful kisser.
I remember pulling him into the center of the bed, laying my body on top of his so we could kiss more easily. He wrapped his arms around my neck, his fingers playing with my hair as our lips continued to touch. That really got to me; I don't know why, but I love having my hair and neck touched while I'm kissing someone. The feel of it just thrills me.
I don't know how long we continued kissing, but it was no short period of time. It felt so wonderful, I never wanted to stop. After a while, my hands began to explore him, and his explored me in return. It was heavenly, a level of intimacy and closeness that I've always found it hard to reach with my lovers. But last night, it just came naturally.
We must've undressed each other during our exploration, because the next thing I recall is him pressing a condom into my hand. Then, I remember the feeling of his legs wrapped around my waist, his hands locked in my hair while my lips explored his neck, chest, and jaw, returning every now and then to steal another kiss from his already kiss-swollen lips. I can clearly recall the heat of his stomach muscles pressed against mine, flexing delightfully as he arched against me. And the feeling of being inside of him...so warm, so fulfilling, so incredible.
I flush as my body starts to respond to the memory. Is Shawn awake? I hope not, I don't want him to see me like this. His face is resting against my chest, his arm thrown over my stomach, the rest of his body pressed against my side. I really don't know what to do! My memory of last night is so wonderful, but in the light of day...my god, what was I thinking?!? The man has been with more men than I've wrestled!
As that thought hits me, the contact of his skin on mine suddenly starts to feel uncomfortable, burning with filth. I shove him away from me, jumping out of the bed as he awakes, sitting up and looking at me with confused eyes.
"Bret?" he whispers.
"I can't believe this!" I rant, snatching my boxers when I see them lying on the floor and yanking them on.
"What's wrong?" he whispers, sounding close to tears.
"What's wrong?" I mocked, turning to glare at him angrily. "What's fucking wrong?!? Geez, are you that stupid? You weren't supposed to fucking touch me!"
"You kissed me," he points out, his voice very quiet and shaking slightly.
"Well I was fucking out of my head! God I have to take a fucking shower, I feel fucking disgusting!" I shudder, stamping into the bathroom and slamming the door behind me. I lean against the door, taking deep breaths to try and calm myself. It sounds quiet out in the room. I glance at the shower, but make no move towards it. The shaky sound of his voice haunts me. Did what I said really hurt him that much? No, he must be used to being treated that way; most guys aren't cuddly with sluts, right? They fuck them and then kick them out.
God dammit, this is just not right! I should not be feeling guilty! I didn't do anything wrong! I was just out of my mind last night, and it's certainly not like he said no! Ok, so I did spend forever just kissing him...ok, so I did let him sleep curled up to me...but that doesn't mean he should assume anything at all!
I sigh, letting my head fall back against the door. I can't go out there and apologize; he doesn't deserve it! Besides, I'd look like a moron. I don't have anything to apologize for. But I'm gonna have to go back out there eventually...what the hell am I supposed to say to him? Thank him for the fuck and ask him never to mention it to anyone? I can't do that; I DON'T have one night stands; I never have, and I don't ever plan on starting. So how the hell do I deal with last night? I'd like to use the excuse of it just being the heat of the moment; but, dammit, that's just not me! I don't let myself do stuff like that!
I take a deep breath, standing up and easing the door open just a crack. I have to see what he's doing; maybe that will give me some clue how to handle this. He's still in bed, with his back to me. His body is shaking...oh god, is he crying? I hold my breath, and I can hear his soft sobs. Now I can't help but feel bad. He shouldn't be crying, should he? With the way he sleeps around, shouldn't he be used to this?
I open the door, stepping out into the room. His head whips around, his tear-swollen eyes meeting mine for a second before he turns away, quickly wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand. I shift uncomfortably on my feet, feeling like I've suddenly lost the power of speech. "I'm sorry," I manage to get out.
He's silent except for his labored breathing. I swallow, wishing I knew what to say. "I don't do stuff like this," I tell him awkwardly. "I just don't. I don't know what I was thinking last night."
"You were thinking that it just felt right," he whispers, taking me by surprise. He's still facing away from me, his voice very soft. "So was I."
I lick my lips, remembering how nice his kisses tasted. Then, I remember that he's constantly with men, and lots of them. What game is he trying to play now? "I'm not gonna be played by you, Shawn," I tell him bluntly. "I don't want to get involved in the shit the other guys do. I don't sleep around and I don't swap lovers like ice packs."
Shawn is quiet for a moment. He turns to face me, gazing at me, his eyes surprisingly open, honest. I don't think I've ever seen that look on his face before. "Bret, last night," he whispers, "last night was the most respectful way anyone's ever made love to me. It was so different...it was wonderful. Magical, even. Most guys just want to throw me down on the covers, get what they want, and throw me out. But it wasn't like that with you. You let me touch you, and kiss you. We were so close, under the covers, in the dark. It wasn't even about getting off, it was about being close." He lowers his head, staring at the floor. "That's what it felt like to me, anyway." His voice is so quiet, I can barely make out his words.
I don't know what to say to that. Really, he's right; it wasn't about getting off. I just needed to feel another warm body against me, another heart beating in unison with mine. I need that simple intimacy a lot more than I've ever needed actual sex. It has been a while since I've really had that, I suppose. I just hadn't realized I was longing for it that badly.
"I love to kiss," I told him, finding a spot on the wall above his head to stare at as I spoke. "It's so much more intimate that sex, really. Sex on its own never does much for me. You're a wonderful kisser, Shawn."
A small smile curves his lips. "You know, I've been told I'm great at a lot of things," he states. "I've been told I'm a great lay, with a great ass. I've been told I make a great bitch. I've been told I'm a great cock sucker. But no one ever bothers to try and kiss me. Kissing me would make me seem like more of a person and less of a hole to use, I guess."
Again I'm left speechless. I guess it never occurred to me that Shawn might feel that way. "Why?" I question, quickly clarifying, "I mean, why do you keep sleeping around, then?"
He looks up, meeting my eyes again. "I really don't have a good answer to that," he tells me sadly. "Habit, I guess. It's hard to say no when everyone assumes you're ready to jump right into bed. And no one actually wants to date a slut, so I guess I figure I might as well get laid."
"Do you want to be that way?" I ask him softly, suddenly feeling terrible for the way I've always treated him like nothing but trash.
"No," he whispers, looking away from me, his eyes brimming with tears. "But I don't know how to get out, Bret. Everyone already thinks I'm a trashy, easy slut."
I want to go to him, and this time I'm not going to fight it. I walk over to him, sitting on the mattress next to him and pulling him into my arms. He wraps his arms around me, holding onto me tightly as he presses his wet cheek against my shoulder. "I'm sorry," I whisper into his hair, raising my hand to stroke the soft blonde strands. "You know I don't like to admit when I'm wrong, but I was about you. I'm sorry." I draw back, wiping away the salty trails of tears from his cheeks with my thumb. "If you want to stick with me, I think I'd like that," I tell him softly.
"I think I would too," he says quietly, taking my hand and twining our fingers together.
"I have to warn you, I'm not exactly easy to live with," I tell him.
"I think I can deal with that." He gives me a bigger smile. "I have a feeling you'll be able to convince my would-be bedmates that I'm off the market."
"Oh, I think so." I give him a grim nod. "Anyone who tries to touch you is going to deal with my first in their face."
He smiles, pulling me back into his arms and holding me tightly. "Thank you," he murmurs against my ear.
I stroke his hair, enjoying his warm breath on my neck. I've been alone for far too long; this is definitely worth a shot.
THE END