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Shawn tipped his chin up and gave Bret a sour look from across the room; things had not been smooth between them for the last few days. It was nothing new, nothing unusual. The emotional friction that would have faded quickly under different circumstances was rubbed raw by their job until it was more like a rash that burned every time they had to be near each other. They’d be fine, it just took extra time to cool off during high intensity months like this. They had said some things in the heat of the moment that really shouldn’t have been said and apologies were neither accepted nor forthcoming, but they had to wrestle each other regardless.
As usual, Bret decided he was going to be the bigger man and approached Shawn shortly before they were scheduled to walk out to the ring. Shawn faced him, back straight, expression unwelcoming and defensively bland.
“I just wanna say… whatever we do out there, I got your back. I might not like you very much right now,” Bret told him, “but I won’t let you get hurt.”
Shawn’s lips curled down into an expression that made Bret’s palm itch to slap him.
“Instead of having my back, maybe you should watch yours,” Shawn threatened.
Bret’s face didn't change, but his eyes slid to the side in annoyance as Shawn walked away. Michaels was full of hot air. Bret wasn’t afraid of him. Yeah he might try something, but nothing that Bret couldn’t handle. “Brat,” he said, with all the zing of a four letter word, just loud enough to be heard.
The fight went more smoothly than their interactions outside of the ring did under the best circumstances. They knew what they were doing in there. Bret even managed to resist giving Shawn a little love-slap across the face, he could have sure gotten away with it in front of all those people. Shawn’s outrage would have been monumental, which made it even more tempting-but no, he kept it clean like he’d promised despite some dirty fighting on Shawn’s end. He felt pretty good about things afterward. His irritation had more or less run its course, a long match was always good for that. As soon as they hit the back hallway it was clear that Mister Showstopper, however, was not done having an attitude, and the thought of putting him in his place was still actively on Bret’s mind, especially with the way that Michaels was marching around acting like Bret’s mere presence stank when he was trying to be civil with him.
Bret watched him get in the shower, mostly out of curiosity about whether or not Shawn would look at him, and sure enough he threw a look of contempt over his shoulder before he pulled the curtain shut. Bret tried not to laugh, the fact that Shawn expected him to be looking at his naked ass even when they were fighting was so incredibly narcissistic and no less than he expected from him.
Bret took his own shower, got dressed, and as he was getting ready to go he saw Shawn walk past his dressing room. For a second, they locked eyes as Shawn strutted past with his hair half dry and his bag slung over his shoulder, his face still arrogant and pissy-
but oh Shawn knew.
When their eyes met… Bret knew what was going to happen and Shawn knew it too, and he could see that Shawn registered that Bret was thinking it as well. He hadn’t decided where and when- not here clearly- but it was going to happen. Shawn had been insufferable all week and he had it coming big time.
The car he rode in got to the hotel around the same time as Shawn did. He saw the blonde pony tail across the lobby as the man made a beeline for the elevator so fast that he almost got away. The closing doors jolted to a stop as one of Bret’s hands gripped the edge and he forced his way in. The doors took a few seconds to stall before opening and closing all the way again, and he saw Shawn eye the gap like he was thinking of fleeing before they shut and the chance was lost. They rode up alone together in silence. The only illuminated button was the one Shawn had pressed before Bret had gotten in, and Shawn was very aware of that fact, because Bret’s room was definitely on another floor.
Bret leaned against the glossy black wall of the elevator and stared at Shawn, who continued to look forward at the doors and ignore him.
“We should talk.”
“Nope.”
“What should we do then, Shawn?”
Shawn’s profile looked a little less stoic as he caught the suggestive note in Bret’s voice, but he still wouldn’t look over.
The doors opened and Shawn was out.
Bret followed, but slowly, enough to give Shawn the lead and stare at his ass. At the end of the hall Shawn unlocked his door and gave Bret a hard look. “Go find your own room, Bret. I’m not lettin’ you in today.”
“Don't tell me you want to fight in the hallway.”
“Fight’s over,” Shawn said hotly. “The bell rang hours ago.” He went in and tried to slam the door, but Bret already knew how this would play out. His boot caught the door and he shoved his way in with one hard shoulder, getting the advantage before Shawn could use his own weight against the other side. If he really thought about it, Shawn hadn’t actually tried to stop him at all.
Bret’s dufflebag hit the ground a second after Shawn’s flew off his own shoulder. He locked the door. That habit of automatically locking the door every time they went into a room together was just instinct now.
Shawn didn’t back off like he sometimes did. “What’s your fucking problem?” He looked pissed off at having lost his balance and stumbled.
“You know what my problem is, Shawn.”
“Oh let me guess- it’s you Shawn, you’re my problem ,” Shawn mimicked the predicted reply.
“You’re damn right.”
“Kiss my ass-”
“-Get over here.” Bret made an aggressive move toward him. Shawn did rapidly back off then, and Bret peeled off his shirt in one fast movement as if getting ready to fight. Shawn stared, the trepidation in his eyes turned into something eager. Bret looked like he was about to chase him but seemed to think better of things when they stepped into the sitting area. He went back to his bag and brought it over, he took one item out and tossed the bag on the table. Shawn knew what was in that bottle Bret dropped on the couch.
“Ha. Fuck you,” was what Shawn said to that. "You think I'm gonna let that happen? Keep dreaming."
Shawn turned to escape and ended up bent half over the couch as Bret wrestled him out of his t-shirt. Although it would have looked like one to someone on the outside, it wasn’t much of a fight. “I’ve had enough of your shit today,” Bret said as he yanked the shirt up over Shawn’s arms while Shawn huffed and puffed indignantly, his hair getting messed up in the tussle as Bret pulled the shirt down to trap his arms in it. “It wouldn’t be a problem if you stopped following me around,” Shawn spat.
“I have to work with your sorry ass,” Bret snapped at him. “You think I follow you around for fun?”
"I think you're obsessed with me." He gave Bret a mean smirk, then tried to pull his shirt out of Bret’s fists, but Bret only grabbed his arm and tugged their bodies together.
He didn’t usually kiss Shawn during these rough sexual episodes, and his mouth watered at the taste of Shawn’s skin as he grabbed the back of his head and pressed his open lips to his neck. He’d had the salty sweat from Shawn’s skin on his tongue only a few hours ago thanks to their match, and it had been plaguing him ever since. He needed to taste him and touch him in all the ways he couldn’t in front of other people.
Shawn was gritting his teeth, breathing hard and angrily, but the way he wilted in his grip, as if from fatigue, was revealing. They always went too long without fucking, and everything would start to unravel.
Bret’s fingers were quick at the buttons of his jeans, and once he escaped the shirt his hands slid messily across Bret’s upper arms and chest, pushing him away without strength as Bret sucked at his neck, his mouth sliding up to his jaw. Shawn made a noise that was almost a moan and tried to turn it into a groan of hatred. Bret tried to kiss him on the mouth, but he only got the barest taste before Shawn actually shoved him. “Get off me!”
Get off me had not really meant ‘get off me’ in a long time; they had other words for that. ‘Get off me’ coming from Shawn? That meant:
Go ahead. Do it harder. Do it more… but don’t be surprised if I return the favor.
Bret didn’t allow himself to be tempted by Shawn’s lips again. He let Shawn push him away. He scowled and waited for Bret to try something else, but Bret only looked him up and down and casually undid his own pants with one hand.
Shawn watched as if in slow motion as Bret opened the buttons of his dark jeans, reached down into his pants, and pulled his thick cock out. Try as he might to look away, Shawn seemed to be compelled by the sight, unable to avert his eyes as Bret’s fingers wrapped around the heavy shaft and gave it a nice squeeze. For a moment Shawn forgot what was happening between them, considered getting down on his knees, and opening his mouth to feel the smooth heat of that cock filling his throat, making him drool as he forgot about everything else. Bret was good at that, good at making him forget it all when he was on his knees. Some guys talked too much, they were too rough, or too soft, or just not enough. Bret was perfect; those careful fingers, his skin, his smell, the taste of him...
Shawn’s eyelids felt heavy suddenly with lust. He realized he was licking his lips and tried to shake it off as Bret came back to him, that hand loosely wrapped around his own cock until he was wrestling Shawn out of his pants and down onto the couch, Shawn made him struggle for it, even as his jeans came down, leaving his blatant erection shrouded only by his thin briefs.
“What did I do to piss you off anyway?” Bret tugged Shawn’s shoes off, and finally went for Shawn’s underwear. Shawn was on his back, staring at him, most of the fight had drained out of him at the sight of Bret’s cock. Bret leaned down close with his hands pressed to Shawn’s hips. His voice was quiet now, almost a sensual whisper. “You’ve been a pain in the ass all week, why don’t you be good for me for five minutes?”
They’d been arguing, Shawn knew, for the sake of arguing, but Bret’s voice wasn’t all meanness and spite, there was a baseline of very real, very warm desire under there that made Shawn want to do whatever he said. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?” Shawn said, sounding as defiant as he could right then.
“Yeah…I would.” Bret’s tone was entirely serious.
A wave of arousal came over Shawn like a violent fever. The desire to submit to Bret was like a drug. He stared up with a glazed look, feeling Bret slide his final item of clothing down his legs. “I hate you so much,” Shawn said, voice hoarse. Bret kissed him. Shawn kissed him back, harder. He hadn’t even known how badly he needed this. He squeezed the couch under him to avoid wrapping his arms around Bret. Bret was still mostly clothed, he didn’t bother undressing with Shawn naked there under him, not even when his hand pushed up between Shawn’s thighs and Shawn grunted in false protest.
The fabric of Bret’s jeans was rough against Shawn’s legs. He couldn’t close his thighs with Bret’s bulk between his knees, and he whimpered- then pressed his lips tight, cutting the unintentional noise off as fast as he could when he felt that hand go higher.
Shawn was impressively sensitive today and he was trying to hide it, pushing against Bret still like they were fighting each other, even when he could feel Shawn’s body getting needier as he made quick use of the nearby bottle and his oiled fingers began to slip into him without meaning to. He wasn’t trying to get inside him yet, he only wanted to tease Shawn until he couldn’t take it anymore. Strained noises escaped Shawn as he fought to remain impassive to both the delicate touches and then the unrelenting pressure of Bret’s fingers.
Bret felt himself get even harder as he watched the way Shawn squirmed and his face contorted as he squeezed his legs against him like he was trying to fight off the arousal. When he finally slipped his hand away Shawn let out a gasp of air.
“I know your back hurts and you're tired,” Bret said smoothly, “so why don’t you roll over for me and we’ll do this nice and easy.”
“Bite me,” Shawn grumbled breathlessly.
Despite the lack of cooperation Bret flipped him easily enough. Shawn’s protests were weak, his muscular arms heavy. His cock very obviously standing at attention now. Bret pulled him up, wrapped his arms around his waist, and pushed him face down onto the couch. He wasn’t being patronizing, he knew Shawn was aching and tired, and he did intend to be careful with him, even though Shawn probably didn’t want that. This had started out with more vigor, but the occasion no longer seemed to call for it when Shawn was barely selling his defiance. What he really wanted was Shawn under him, wanting him, and unable to deny it. He could punish him another time for being so fucking obnoxious.
Wanting to feel skin on skin, he told Shawn not to move as he quickly took off the rest of his clothes. Shawn didn't try to disobey that, he had his eyes shut and looked half asleep with his face pressed to the cushion, his right knee slipping down the side of the couch and everything between his legs open for viewing. The couch was too narrow for them and Bret had to straddle him, keeping one foot on the floor as he gripped the arm of the couch and used his other hand to spread Shawn’s firm cheeks for his cock. He rubbed against him slowly until he felt Shawn starting to take him. Shawn made a noise as Bret began to get deeper, he squirmed but wasn’t able to move with Bret’s weight across his thighs. Bret angled his hips back, leaned forward, and pushed harder. Shawn moaned behind closed lips, reaching up to clutch the arm of the couch with one hand.
Bret squeezed oil out across Shawn’s ass and let it run down that pale valley to his cock, he fucked it slowly into Shawn, his cock glistening beside the beautiful shiny swell of Shawn’s buttocks, his skin puckering bright pink around the head of Bret’s hard shaft.
“God that’s good,” Bret moaned. He leaned down so that his chest was close to Shawn’s back and curled an arm under him. “You’re being so good,” he said. He pulled Shawn’s hips up enough to reach under and wrap a slippery hand around his cock. Shawn whined like he wanted to protest. “You tell me when you want more. I’ll give it to you, but you gotta ask for it.”
Shawn gasped as Bret’s hand worked on him slowly and Bret pulled out and began to rub his cock against Shawn, teasing, letting the head of his cock rub just right so that it almost felt like it was about to push in, over and over, but not doing it. Bret had stroked him until Shawn was practically half way to coming, and then he stopped and began to only touch him in a way that was more frustrating than satisfying.
Shawn didn’t bother trying to hold out. He pushed his butt into Bret, and Bret moved away. “Fuck me.”
“You can do better than that.”
Shawn swore in frustration. “I’m not gonna beg.”
“Then ask me real nice.”
Shawn groaned. “I hate you so much.”
He tried to push himself up. Bret wrapped his other arm under him and pressed his shoulders down again with his body weight, laying on top of him with his cock tight against Shawn’s hole and his hand pumping his cock just hard enough to subdue him.
“If you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna get up and walk out and find the first guy who wants it and let him finish the job.”
“Go ahead.”
Shawn wriggled and Bret held on tighter; he almost writhed his way right on to Bret’s cock but Bret jerked away just in time.
Shawn finally sighed and let himself slump on the cushions. “Right. I’m gonna take a nap. Wake me up when something exciting happens.”
“I take it back, you’re not being good at all.”
“I asked you to fuck me.”
“You told me to fuck you, and you’re still acting like a punk.” Shawn might have talked a good game but he was still throbbing in Bret’s hand and Bret could feel him twitching against his cock.
“Bret…” Shawn swallowed thickly. Bret could feel him breathing, his ribs expanding in his arms, his soft stomach against his hand and forearm. Shawn said his name again, breathier this time. His smart remarks had used up his last reserves of energy and he tried to bury his face in the arm Bret had slid under his chest.
His shoulders were smooth and beautiful, and Bret always had trouble resisting the urge to kiss his back when he was trying to be tough with Shawn, and this time was no exception. He should have grabbed Shawn by the hair and pulled his head back, been a little meaner or something, but the couch was too soft and he didn’t want to make Shawn’s back arch like that, not right now. He touched his lips to the base of Shawn's neck which was not the tenderness the man deserved for being so much trouble. Shawn gave a small huff and Bret felt moisture on his arm.
“Hey…” oh he better not be, Bret thought. He let his hold loosen and pried Shawn away from the couch, slipping off to his side, sure enough Shawn was pouting, his eyelashes were wet, but there were no tears to be seen. His cock was still hard for fuck’s sake, and here he was pretending to cry. Technically, he wasn't pretending since he’d squeezed out a few tears somehow. “Gimme a break,” Bret said. “You’re such a cheat.”
“I’m so tired,” Shawn said pitifully, pretending not to notice Bret’s reluctant sympathy. “I don’t want to fight anymore.”
Bret looked at Shawn’s face, the little scowl he’d had all day was now replaced by a sulky frown and demure eyes, and Bret hated himself because there was no way Shawn wasn’t going to get what he wanted.
Shawn rolled completely over and reached an arm up around Bret’s shoulders. “Take me to bed,” he said, his deep voice full of pleading, erotic, softness.
Bret sighed, deeply.
Shawn was such an actor, such a manipulative prick, knowing this, Bret was still not anywhere near to being immune, not to the look in his eyes, not to his voice. Sure those little tears were probably genuine fatigue and frustration he’d drawn on, but there was no doubt that this was another way for Shawn to not have to tap out. Change the game, change the rules.
Bret pushed himself away from the couch and Shawn sat up. He pulled Shawn to his feet and led him to the bed. He laid him down, kissed him once, then he walked away. Shawn’s sharp displeasure was almost instantaneous. “Where are you going?”
“You said you were tired, we can do this another time.” He could play Shawn’s game too.
Shawn stared at him with more offense than even he had predicted. “I knew it,” Shawn said.
Bret put his hands on his hips. He was stark naked. They both were. Neither one fully hard any longer.
Shawn pushed himself up onto one hand. “Who is it?”
“What? Who's what?”
“Oh come off it, you haven’t looked at me in weeks. Is it one of the girls? Maybe one of the guys even- when I agreed to this, I didn’t think you were gonna lie to my face-”
“I just tore your fucking clothes off! In weeks? Wh-what the hell are you talking about I haven’t looked at you in weeks? I can’t even get you to stand in the same room with me. I had to force my way in here to get your attention- are you crazy?”
Shawn looked less certain, but still bothered. He ran a hand through the messy strands of his hair hanging almost to his waist, as he thought. “Every time I’m in the locker room or taking a shower you’re not around. It’s like you don’t want to be left alone with me.”
“I just saw you get into the shower today.”
“There were people around.”
“There’s always other people around!”
“Not last week. Not the week before.”
“When? How?”
“You didn’t even come to my room when we were at our last match!”
“You told me not to! - Alright. Enough.”
“I can take a hint.” Shawn threw his hair back and turned away from Bret.
“You need to take a lot more than that!”
There was a beat of silence and Bret’s cock began to plump up again at the thought of Shawn taking it, which had not been what he’d meant to imply. Shawn’s eyes also flickered downward for a heartbeat.
“Whatever,” Shawn muttered, “just get out.”
Bret shook his head in disbelief. He walked out of the room.
Shawn stole a glance at the doorway. He was sitting up in a pose that was unintentionally feminine with one leg folded half under him. He stared down at the bed coverlet and waited to hear the door slam, it would take a moment because Bret had to get dressed again.
The sound didn’t come. Bret walked back into the room with the oil. “Stop crying,” he said brusquely. Shawn looked up at him hesitantly and Bret softened his tone. “Come here,” he said, holding his arms out. Shawn wiped his face and ignored him. He was crying. A little. So what?
“Shawn, please,” Bret said, and this time Shawn did as he asked, and very slowly scooted the short distance toward him until he was near enough for Bret to properly grab. He held Shawn’s head in his hands as he stood by the bed, tipping his head back so that Shawn had to look up at him. “I’m staring at you every day. Every time we’re in the same room. You said I was obsessed with you-”
"I was just-"
"Maybe I am." He didn’t wipe the tinsel strands of light tears off Shawn’s cheeks. Shawn was pretty when he cried, and Bret had never met a man who seemed to cry this much. “There’s no one else. No one else. I wish there was, because you drive me crazy…” That made Shawn start to tear up again and he pulled his face out of Bret’s hands and said, “Then find someone else.”
“I don’t want somebody else, Shawn!” Bret yelled at him. “I want you. I don’t want someone else, what the hell do you think I’m doing here!?”
That was obviously what Shawn wanted to hear, because he became confident in his arrogance once more, and wasn’t able to conjure any more pretty tears. He tried to feign indifference and move away.
Bret swiped the oil off the bed. “Stay there,” he said threateningly. Shawn didn’t look like he was going to. “If you don’t knock it off right now I’ll never fuck you again, I swear-”
Shawn tried to cover his visibly growing cock with a pillow, but Bret knelt on the bed and tore it away, chasing Shawn as he scooted backwards, conveniently placing them in the center of the bed.
“You make me work so hard for this shit, literally anyone would be an easier fuck than you. People really think you’re easy. Fuckin’ ridiculous,” Bret said with exasperation, more to himself than to Shawn. Shawn was entirely failing at not looking pleased by Bret’s tirade. “Get over here,” Bret said, covering Shawn again, dragging Shawn closer, even though the muscles in his forearms were almost cramping from overuse, the grabbing, the lifting, the exercise, and his shoulders didn’t want to move someone’s two hundred plus pounds of body anymore- but just this one last thing…his cheek brushed Shawn’s chest hair as he stroked the oil back onto his own cock and then dug a space for himself between Shawn’s legs. “Give it to me,” he said roughly.
“Take it,” Shawn retorted.
Shawn cried out as he did. Pulling him hard to his body. Pushing himself inside. Finally feeling Shawn around him. So incredibly tight.
Familiar noises came from Shawn, sounds Bret loved to hear over and over, the breathless grunting, the whining, while his face scrunched up as Bret stretched him almost too much. It didn't take any time before he felt his cock sliding into Shawn with ease. Shawn let out an exhausted moan and flopped back, going limp on the bed as Bret pumped into him with even, hard, oiled thrusts. Shawn looked so good when Bret took his leg and pulled it towards Shawn’s chest, bending him in half, feeling his fingers dig into the little creases of skin that formed around Shawn’s tight stomach. Shawn’s pecs bunched up, looking thick and gorgeous almost pressed up to his chin as he curled towards Bret, and Bret fucked him deeper.
It didn’t last as long as he'd planned. Bret wanted to flip him over and spend another twenty minutes at least fucking the life out of Shawn, but he couldn’t stop looking at Shawn’s face, he looked angelically mindless with pleasure, his cheekbones flagrantly pink. He didn’t tell Bret he was going to come, but his body language spoke loud enough. “Look at me,” Bret demanded, and Shawn fought to not let his eyes roll back. The steady hammering of Bret’s cock sent him over slower than it would have if he’d been stroking himself, but he wasn't. Apart from his broken gasps, Shawn came silently, looking like he had no control over it as his seed painted their chests. He held Bret’s gaze until he couldn’t any longer and fell back with his eyes closed. Bret fucked him until Shawn began to make dry sobbing noises and came inside him.
Bret was still vaguely annoyed, but Shawn was sweet as pie after all that. He wrapped his arms around Bret’s waist in the bathroom and pressed his cheek against his shoulder. Bret looked at him in the mirror as Shawn rested his chin on him. “You like me now, huh?”
Shawn didn’t have the modesty to look even a little sorry. "Like is a pretty strong word.”
Shawn rested his forearms over Bret’s shoulders and let his hands dangle there as Bret turned and leaned back against the sink, holding their hips together. They were only in their underwear. Bret touched the bottom of his chin with the knuckle of his finger affectionately. “I wouldn’t go behind your back. You should know that,” he told him, even though he knew the man's moodiness in reality probably had very little to do with him.
Shawn said nothing. Bret knew he wouldn’t give him the same courtesy, he wouldn’t commit to a promise about being honest, and even if he did Bret wouldn’t entirely trust it. He knew Shawn, but he didn’t trust him. That was just something he’d decided he could live with for now, and it hadn't stopped him from wanting to keep Shawn for himself. “If you wanna know what’s going on just ask me next time.”
Shawn almost nodded at that, but he didn't seem concerned about it anymore.
“Alright, let me hold you for a while before I have to go, huh?” The way Shawn looked at him right then, his eyes… well, it was easy to believe Shawn Michaels was feeling things for you if he wanted you to think that, wasn’t it? Bret awkwardly looked away and pushed the rising swell of emotion down as he went to the bed. Shawn slid down and curled up with him before he even had a chance to tug him down like he’d been about to. He pressed his cheek to Bret's smooth chest and pushed his warm body up against him, his leg slipping in between Bret’s own when he shifted to hold him better.
Bret didn’t want to think about leaving, or another strange cold bed, or the things he’d have to do before the next show, not to mention the time that would pass before he’d see Shawn again. He put his arm around Shawn, who was not his, but who should have been his, and felt the soft hairs on Shawn’s stomach tickle his skin with every slow inhale.