Disclaimer: The characters and real people portrayed in this story do not belong to me, the characters belong to WWE and the real people own themselves. Also, there is a bit of mature content (not explicit) and swearing, so you've been forewarned.
A/N: I know that I've been a little MIA here, but I'm here with a new one that I hope you'll all enjoy. And please leave a review letting me know that you think, I'd be eternally grateful. Also, if you want an update for my Trish/Carlito fic, I will try my darnedest to get that to you. :)
They snuck into a closet, limbs tangled, breathless, lips finding skin wherever skin was available. See, they were not afforded the luxury of time. They were granted mere moments in this endless stream of moments. Their moments were brief, excitable, filled with just enough passion to sustain them, but never too much to make them crave more than those few moments they were able to spare to sneak off and become this entanglement of bodies, like snakes coiled up until they were indistinguishable.
The show was bustling around them, sounds coming through the door, but they hardly noticed them, so caught up in each other were they, but the show couldn't stop just because they weren't around. The noise was a welcome soundtrack to their encounter, providing just enough noise to blank out their thoughts as they thought about how secretive they were being, how almost…naughty the entire thing was.
That's what made this so much fun for the two of them. It was out of the ordinary, it was something they didn't do in their normal lives, this sneaking away, being behind closed doors, in the dark. On the other side of that door, they were on the straight and narrow path, prime examples for other people, someone you could most definitely look up to, but on this side of the door, they were different, daring, and this sneaking around thing was just so exciting.
He pressed his lips to her neck and heard her moan and that only incited him further, wanting to hear her moan some more, until he had had his fill of her, until he knew he could last the rest of their time apart without her, until they could sneak around again. She moaned again, tilting her head to the side to give him more access to her neck and he granted her wish by lavishing the expanse of skin with wet kisses that burned into her flesh.
"So good," she whispered as she worked at unbuttoning his shirt, "don't stop…"
"Couldn't if I tried," he mumbled against her and it was true, he couldn't stop now. He couldn't just stop this, whatever this was, and he knew that at some point, this would lose its luster and he would have to quit this sneaking around. Still, day by day he was starting to wonder if this would ever end, if he would just stay with her until the end of time, whenever that may be.
"Oh God," she said as he hit a pulse point. At this point she was pushing off his shirt while he was pulling up her skirt, his hands wandering underneath to get at her most sensitive areas. She leaned back against the wall, feeling like she was falling into it, that she was paint being stuck there forever. She almost shrieked when he reached where he needed her to reach.
"Gotta hurry," he muttered against her lips.
"I know," she said, working on his pants. They had to hurry before people got suspicious, and most importantly before they got caught. That would be the end of them if that were to happen.
It was hurried and it was passionate, a cocoon of passion really. He lifted her leg, pushed up her skirt around her waist and took her against the wall, kissing her the entire time, the entire world around them melting into some strange void of nothingness. It was only them in that moment, lost to their lust, their secrets, and the indecency of what they were committing right that moment.
The moment ended too soon and she was soon pushing down her shirt, and pulling up her underwear as he was buttoning up the buttons carefully so that he wouldn't miss a single one. She watched him, head bowed, and she wanted to reach out and fix his hair, but there was no time for intimacy or pleasantries. When they met like this, it was sex, raw and hard, and just…pure sex and lust all wrapped up into one quick package.
She was fixing her own hair when he reached out his fingertips to her chin and lifted her face up. "You're beautiful."
She rolled her eyes, "You always say sweet things after we do that, I think you're just trying not to dirty it up since we just had sex in a closet next to mops."
"Well, I just wanted you to know," he said as he leaned forward and kiss her lightly, his lips gently brushing against hers. "I've got to get back to the old ball and chain."
"I don't think she'd appreciate it if you call her that."
"Well, she is," he told her. "And what about you?"
"Well, I've got to get back to the husband," she told him. "That asshole."
"Aww, now who's not being nice," he said, cupping her cheek and rubbing his thumb over her jaw a little.
"Oh, I know what I'm talking about," she said, then turned to the door. "I'll leave first this time?"
"If you insist, as I always say, ladies first."
"Yeah, always say," she said sarcastically as she pulled the door open a crack and peeked her head out. Seeing that nobody was in the immediate area, she slipped out of the room. Chris watched her go and stood there, counting to himself before exiting the room himself and walking down the hallway, whistling a happy tune. He happily pushed the door open and saw his wife sitting on the couch.
"Hey, Steph," he said as she looked up at him with a smile.
"And just where have you been, if I may be so bold as to ask," Stephanie said from her perch on the couch.
"What? You have to know where I am every second of every day now?" he asked. "Where did it say that in the husband contract?"
"Um…section 12, paragraph 4, line 3," she responded.
"I was…around," he said, evading her question, even as she studied him. He went and sat at her desk, busying himself with looking at some of the papers sitting on top of them, mostly ideas for storylines.
"Around, huh?" she asked.
"Yeah, you know, casing the joint," he said, trying to sound like a mobster.
Stephanie stood up, smoothing out her skirt and walked around to the desk, leaning over and looking at what he was looking at. "So you were just…walking around, scoping out the competition, doing your normal, everyday thing?"
"Yes, now will you quit bugging me?" he said, pushing her away lightly as he looked at the upcoming schedule for their live events, noting that it looked like they were doing a tour of Canada so they should really go visit his father.
"Yeah, sure, if that's what you want," she said.
"So we're going to Canada, are we?" he said, trying to make conversation.
"Oh, so now you want to talk, you didn't seem to have too many words for me, I thought we were down to short sentences and monosyllable words," she teased and he rolled his eyes, once again wondering why he had saddled himself with her. He remembered the perks of being married to Stephanie, and then remembered why he had married her.
"Stephanie, don't get me started, I'm in a good mood, so I don't want to argue."
"Good mood? And what has put you in a good mood? You seemed like you were in a bad mood when we woke up this morning, if I can recall correctly, you told me that the weather was shitty, and it was going to be a horrible day."
"Well things change," he informed her. "I got to the show, and just being around the show has put me in an infinitely better mood, so there you go, now back to what I wanted to discuss, we're going to Canada."
"Yes, we are, if you'd bother to look at the schedule every once in a while, you'd know these things, Chris."
"Sorry," he said sarcastically. "Anyways, we should probably go see my dad, I know he'd like to see us, he'd be hurt if we went there and didn't visit him."
"That's fine, book it," Stephanie said nonchalantly, "it'll be nice to get away for a couple of days, and I like your dad, he reminds me of what a real dad would be like. It's nice to see how the other half lives, the ones without the crazy fathers always breathing down your necks because they're your boss."
Chris stood up and stood behind her, rubbing her shoulders a little bit before moving to her neck, "You're too stressed. You think about work too much, it hardly leaves time for anything else."
"Complain, complain, complain," she said as he leaned forward to kiss her neck. "Why are you being so affectionate?"
"A guy can't be affectionate to his wife?" he asked. In all honesty, he was still a little hot from his encounter earlier, and he needed to blow off a little of that steam before it got to be unbearable. "I figured if I could be affectionate with anyone, it would be you."
"And only me, take that as a warning," Stephanie told him, turned so that she was facing him. She gave him a warm smile.
"Warning duly noted," he told her slowly, not meeting her eyes…since they were too busy focused in on her shirt. "So…"
"No, not going to happen," she told him, pushing him away a little. "In my office, way, way too risky, we're in public, anybody could walk in, my dad could walk in, and how would that look if you have his daughter bent over the desk or…up against a wall or something." Chris gulped as he thought of that image, bringing him back to other walls in other rooms…or closets.
"You're not fun," he pouted.
"Yes, I'm not fun, I understand this, and still you married me, and have stayed married to me for the past four years…or is it seventy, I lose track with you since it seems like I've been attached to you for so long."
"Well, I did say for better or worse, didn't I?"
"When is the 'for better' part coming again? Didn't you promise me that?"
"Once I can afford the 'for better' part you'll get it," he said to her. "So…what are your plans for the rest of the night?"
"I'm working…on the show…that I've worked on every Monday for the past…forever, what do you think I'm doing?" she told him like he should know better, and he really should. She gathered up some of her papers, things she'd need while she helped out her dad at the gorilla. He was going to be on the show tonight, so he was going to need her there to take over in his stead. "My dad wanted to talk to you by the way, I ran into him earlier in the hallway, and he said that he wanted to talk to you about something, I've no clue what that might be."
"If he's hassling me to come back again…"
"Chris, everyone and their mother has been asking you to come back," she told him. "It's because we want you back, if that's too hard for you to understand, well…"
"Stephanie, I'm not getting into this with you right now," he warned her. This had caused many a fight over the last two years, more specifically the last year, when the arguments had intensified over the particular issue. Stephanie just failed to see why it would be so hard for him to be on the show if he was usually at the show.
"Fine, I've got things to do anyways, so whatever, sit around on your ass some more," she said angrily.
"Hey, I do a lot of things."
She conceded with a sigh, "Yes, I know, sorry, I got caught up in the McMahon temper, you know how often that springs up. I'm being supportive, this is me being supportive…anyways, I don't think this is going to be about you coming back, he seemed pretty subdued when he was talking to me, so yeah, I don't know."
"I just hope it's not another one of those father/son talks that he likes to have with me," he groaned, knowing that sometimes Vince liked to treat him like he was his own son, and sometimes, Chris had a problem with that.
"If that's it, ha ha," she laughed, pointing at him. "Well, I'm off, don't go off getting yourself into trouble…oh, and before I forget, I had a message I was supposed to give you, kind of cryptic."
"What was it?"
"Same time, next week."
That could only mean one thing, he had another date with a broom closet.