This is a ONESHOT not related to my other stories but will be continued/fleshed out with a point of view from Shawn. My notion was to provide an additional motivation behind Jbl's challenging Shawn to the Pay-Per-View match. I am still working on Despise, there are a few bumps in the road I need to work out in the next chapter. Thanks to everyone whos reading and reviewing my works and I am having a blast reading you alls fics as well.
Something is starting to happen between us. Shawn is still standing in the same spot, staring in the mirror, watching me as I try to look at the lockers, the ceiling and the floor, as I look anywhere but at him.
It takes all the strength I have to come and stand where he is, all I got in me to start the conversation that we have every week, but I can't find the strength to look at him, to look in his eyes and see what I think is in there.
Everything was going just fine in my plan, until last night. Everything was professional, contracted, laid out on paper. We both had stated goals and objectives, and the consquences were set in stone if either one of us failed to meet them. I signed his checks, he worked for me. It was as simple as that.
Then, in one moment, things went straight to hell.
That night at the Rumble we were sharing a lockerroom, that night was my World Championship Match. I was in the zone, training, getting my mind and my body prepared to fight, and I didn't even take any notice of Shawn as I undressed. In the past I knew there had been rumors about his sexuality, but I knew him as a married man, an employee who's personal life and habits I was not the least bit interested in.
I was stretching out, lengthing the muscles in my back and legs, pulling out the tention and fighting a stubborn cramp, it was an akward position that allowed me to see what was going on behind me.
I saw Shawn's face reflected in the mirror. I saw he was shaking, biting at his lip, looking as if he was fighting to keep from crying. I realised that Shawn wasn't looking at himself. He was looking at me.
I couldn't understand what the hell had got into him, why he was acting in that odd way. I wrapped my towel around my waist and was about to turn to speak to him when I felt something brush against my back.
"That's bad. Let me."
Before I could speak, his hands were passing over my skin, the same kind of deep massage I get from the trainer, except it was Shawn Michaels doing it for me.
I was in a lot of pain, I am used to this kind of good care and I let that push the doubts from my mind until I felt his hair brushing against my shoulders, his chest pressing against my back.
The pressure of his touch increased, and I convinced myself that he was adjusting his balance not meaning anything by this closeness. It felt good. It felt so good.
I didn't stop him when I felt his face press against my neck. I didn't move away when his hands slipped around my waist. He whispered my name. My first name. I hadn't realised that all this time he'd been tiping me slowly backwards, sliding alongside, until I felt the kiss.
I didn't fight him. If it hadn't been for that knock on the door, he might have had me, right then and there. It scared me bad enough that I offered to release him. I told him that if I won that night, I'd pay him all he was owed, put him in the Rumble and fight him at Wrestlemania. I'd have offered him anything to get out of that room and this mess, but here we are tonight. I am still not champion, he still works for me and he is still staring at me in the mirror.
If I don't do something to stop this, we are going to be together and I am more scared of that than I can say. I can't keep standing here trying not to look him in the eye so he doesn't see what I feel.
I am scared because I think he loves me.
Heaven help me, I think I may love him.