Party Nights

By Archangel

Dedicated to Jason Usher

Paul

I knew from the very beginning that I would be going all the way to World Wrestling Entertainment. Even when I first started training I was convinced that I was one of the best. I wasn’t full of myself, or egotistic. Somehow I just knew. My destiny was on one of those shows. I was supposed to be going to Ohio Valley Wrestling, but a simple phone call changed all of that. My manager told me I’d be joining up with an old acquaintance of mine, Brian Kendrick.

I was overjoyed at the whole ordeal. I was achieving my dreams! Even if I wasn’t headlining Smackdown yet, I was at least going to be on a real show. Velocity gets ignored a lot of the time; it’s true. I for one loved it; the feel of a stiffer ring, ropes that didn’t threaten to take my head off, and a crowd that was really into everything.

Then there was also my new tag team partner. I had known Brian in passing back on the circuit. Well, everyone knew Brian. A man like him just didn’t keep to himself. He was outgoing and confident, not to mention that he had talent flowing through him thicker than his own blood. Yeah, Brian was pretty popular. Or, Spanky, as most people called him. I called him that for a little while, but once we started tagging that didn’t stick very long. I don’t think I’ve ever become friends with someone so quickly or easily in my life.

Everything has been going perfect so far in my life. I’m on the WWE roster, I’m in top physical condition, and my best friend is my tag partner. Lately, though, things have been a little off. Not in the ring. No, things in the ring couldn’t be better, aside from my first singles match nearly giving me a concussion. Things have just been a little more than strange lately between me and Brian. I don’t know why, but I just can’t get over this.

Brian has always been known for his partying. He’s always been the first to break out the booze despite the fact that he’s also the one who can’t hold his drink at all. Maybe it’s the English heritage? I don’t know. Either way the guy has a terrible condition of getting completely smashed on only two cans of beer. He’s entertaining when he’s like that, though, and he has lots of fun so who are we to stop him?

There was a party last week and lots of the big names were there. Brian and I got to drink with Steve Austin. Now there’s an honor and a half! Of course, Brian was a flushed cheek little nut after only an hour. He provided a great show for everyone, which I couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed of. On the other hand, it could’ve been a lot worse. When he’s drunk Brian is still his usual self, but multiplied times two. So he’s a little louder, a little more outgoing, and definitely a lot more outspoken. Considering some of the very important people that were there I took it upon myself to start handing him cans of soda instead of beer. I don’t think it helped much because every time I turned around one of the older guys was encouraging him to keep drinking. Why do older men love to see young guys get shitfaced? Do they think it’s cute or something?

Finally, I did manage to at least keep Brian away from the crowd for a little while, insisting he come outside to check out the grounds. I imagined that with the gardens being so huge Brian could spend the rest of the night getting lost and wearing off his buzz. He surprised me, though, by sticking next to me on the terrace and just looking at the stars. I don’t know how long we sat there like that not saying a word. We were pretty far from the nearest city so the sky was covered with shining white and blue specks. I don’t think Brian had ever seen anything like that.

He startled me nearly out of my skin when he fell onto my shoulder. My initial thought was that he had passed out, but I heard him sigh. I figured he was getting tired. Before I could suggest that we call it a night he moved again. He nuzzled his face into the curve of my neck and rested his hand lightly on my thigh. Usually such a gesture wouldn’t have bothered me, but something in the way he did it set off buzzers and alarms in my head. There was a softness in his touch. There was something in the air between us. It sent a shiver up my spine to realize that, in a way, he was coming on to me.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not repulsed by homosexuality. If anything, I’m more accepting than most. I’m bisexual. I’m not ashamed to admit that there have been a few men scattered among the many women in my past. Generally, as I’m sure you just caught my hint, I steer towards girls more than anything. And I’ve never had a real relationship with a man. Nothing very serious. I didn’t do it on purpose; nothing ever worked out any other way.

That night I recognized the tension that Brian’s touch caused in me. I looked down at him nestled against me with slight nervousness, but he never met my gaze. He only remained where he was with that small smile on his lips and ran his hand slowly up and down the top of my thigh. I tried to relax and remind myself that he was completely drunk. He probably had no idea exactly who he was snuggling with. He proved me wrong in that.

“Paulie, can we go home now?”

Paulie? I looked down at him again. He still hadn’t moved an inch aside from his stroking movements across my leg. He looked more content than I had ever seen him before; even more content than when he was asleep and curled up with that ridiculous stuffed penguin of his. I asked him if he was sure he wanted to go and got his answer in the form of a yawn in my face. If beer breath doesn’t kill a mood, nothing will. So with my assistance, and a designated driver named Rob Van Dam (who mysteriously seemed to have worse breath than my partner), Brian got home in one piece.

I helped him into bed, penguin and all, but got pulled down next to him before I had a chance to even turn out the light. Without a word he pulled me onto the bed and snuggled his half naked form into my arms. This night was starting to get very friendly and again I was extremely nervous. Just as before Brian didn’t make another move from there. He only sighed, his breath warm against my chest, and eventually fell asleep. And I was stuck there, held captive in his grasp, with a painful hard-on and a plushie penguin beak jabbing my side. It wasn’t easy for me to get to sleep, but I did somehow. By the time I awoke the next morning Brian and I both were sprawled on opposite sides of the bed. Aside from the penguin still under my back there was no evidence he had ever been in my arms.

That was a little over a week ago. If Brian remembers anything of it he’s given me not a single clue. We’ve gone on working out, practicing, doing the show, and being friends as always. I guess he was just drunk. Part of me is thankful for that. Brian is my best friend and I would never want to tamper with that. There’s also a small part of me that remembers the feel of his hand on my thigh and the smell of his soft hair against my cheek. That part of me wonders what it would be like to push it further. I think it’s a good thing that a good amount of chocolate can sedate that little voice.

End Chapter 1

Legalities: Christian Cage, Bubba Dudley, D-Von Dudley, and Gail Kim are copyright to TNA Wrestling. Chris Jericho, the Rock, and Brock Lesnar are copyright to themselves. Paul London, Brian Kendrick, John Cena, and any other mentioned characters are property of World Wrestling Entertainment. I claim no knowledge of each of the characters sexual preferences or lives. This is a story of fiction, none of these events are real. I received absolutely no profit from this story.