I discovered a Jack Swagger muse… a Swagger muse… argh… as if the other five causing havoc in my head aren't already enough. Now I've to cope with six crazy muses and all of them want a story…

Warning: mentions of Slash and Abuse

Disclaimer: I own the muses in my head, the insanity and … nothing else!

Well, look who it is… the All-American… American, Jack Swagger himself.

Not heard from me in a while, huh?

For those of you who don't know me yet, I'm working for the greatest wrestling-promotion of them all… exactly… WWE… *coughs* sarcasm *coughs*. I've debuted a few years ago… two… and soon had gotten to the top *hint sarcasm again* by becoming ECW Champion… once.

That was until the draft came last year and … well, the second draft, the one were myself, Evan and Henry got kicked over to Raw, into the middle of the big bad sharks… it was the day the drama began.

Let me explain one thing to you: Raw is led by two men and two men only: Triple H - son in law of the company's boss… and Randy Orton - the biggest bitch of them all. Therefore, in attempt to get up the card, to get to the top there, you either kiss their ass… or suck their cocks. No, I'm not kidding.

What? Didn't expect me to speak so openly, so directly? I've nothing to lose anymore.

Just look at Evan and Kofi. They didn't take the offer and see where they are now. I know MVP even slapped Hunter in the face when he'd made the offer. Kennedy? Well, let's not talk about him. You all know where he is now.

Then there are guys like Cody and Ted… obviously to me they've taken the offer… I'm quite sure they've even suggested it first. We also have Stephen… rumors say that he's taken both offers. Wouldn't exactly surprise me.

And then… we have me.

I was dropped after … let's just say I often take my mouth a little too full, that one fateful day I didn't.

Let me tell you the story of a boy who didn't bow down… not to the king, nor to the viper.


Don't ask me what day it had been or which month it was, but I'm pretty sure it must've been late summer, early autumn, Monday Night Raw, when he'd approached me.

I'd just gotten back to my locker after a long, hard-fought match, my muscles sore and aching, bones hurting, body sweaty and weak. I wanted nothing more than a quick, hot, soothing shower and to go back to the hotel-room I shared with Kofi and Evan… (coincidence?).

I'd felt his presence right from the start, right from the moment he'd silently entered the room. That guy really lived his gimmick… quick and silent as only a snake… pretty scary if you ask me.

I'd felt his icy-blue eyes starring daggers through me.

I've known about the antics in the Raw-locker room back then, had heard of them, rumors going around, friends telling stories… all that shit, you know?

I tried to ignore it, continuing to undress as if no one was there. Hell… why should I've shown him that I was slightly scared, intimidated, bothered?

Though I really tried to blend out the fact that he was in the room, probably staring at my naked body, I swallowed hard when I came to the thong I'd been wearing underneath my ring-gear, feeling his eyes all over me.

I finally decided to speak.

"Is there anything you want, Randy?"

I heard his low chuckle as if he was standing right behind me, only inches away and sure enough, when I turned around, I was face-to-face, bare chest to bare chest with HIM…

He had his ring-trunks on, tanned body shimmering, slicked up with I don't know how much body-oil, blue eyes showing amusement, lips curled up in a snarl.

"What's so funny?"

I already had enough of his shit even though he just seemed to start his game. I wasn't in the mood for mind-games, to play around; I just wanted to shower and rest, to get out of that place.

He shrugged those broad shoulders of his, lips curling up in his trademark-smirk, rolling his neck around for a while, tongue darting out to wet his lips.

Okay, let me make one thing clear: I am not gay, I am not bisexual, I am 100% manly man, only enjoying the company of a beautiful girl… sometimes even two… ha… and nothing else!

However, I'd be lying if I said I'd never fantasized about THAT tongue and all the things it could do to me. Seriously… who hadn't?

He must've seen me starring at it, cause soon enough he let it sneak out again, this time tentatively, teasingly, slowly running it over his lips.

"See something you like?"

I shook myself out of trance, sure as hell blushing like a maniac, seeing his smirk grow even wider.

"You know, Jack… I've seen you in the ring, seen you fight, seen you play with the crowd. You sure as hell have some talent in you."

Studying my reaction - my eyes narrowing on his, furrowing my brows in confusion, concentration- he tilted his head, crossing those strong arms over his toned, glistening chest. The guy sure as hell used too much tan… and baby-oil… yeah… definitely too much of it…

"But you also know that to get to the top, you've gotta pay your dues… Now… I don't wanna beat around the bush forever since I think you already know what I'm talking about… so… you have one choice… well, two… Hunter or me… suck or bend… it's as simple as that!"

My eyes widened, my lips parted, my body tensed. What the fuck? Could he've been any blunter? I mean… come on… was he really serious?


Okay, obviously he WAS serious.

I closed my eyes for a second, getting my composure back… at least trying to… getting back into character, the cockiness maybe giving me a chance to beat him.

"What if I say no?"

I know it came out weaker than supposed, nervousness finally kicking fully in, making my voice sound like the one of a girl.

He almost doubled over with laughter, holding himself up with one of his dirty, slicked hands on my shoulder, shaking his head in pure disbelief, that nasty laugh, that insane laugh of his making me regret my question all of a sudden.

His hand slowly made its way to my chest, but instead of smacking it as I suspected, he ran one of his long, lean fingers over my sweat-covered body.

I couldn't help the shiver running through me as I felt his hot breath on my ear, the hushed words making my knees even weaker than before.

"Why wouldn't you want to say yes, Jack? You don't want the spotlight? The fame? The title?"

I swallowed really hard, closed my eyes… and thought about it. He was right… I wanted that all… quick… badly… more than anything… but for THAT prize? Never!

What came next was maybe the biggest mistake of my entire career.

Placing both my hands on his chest, I pushed him away with every ounce of strength I'd left, shaking my head viciously, starring at him as blankly as possible.

"You know what? I think I don't need your help!"

To say he was furious must've been an understatement. I'll never forget the look in his eyes when he stormed out of my locker, the impact he'd slammed the door with, making me jump out of my skin.

I seriously thought that with all the passion in my heart, the fire I had in me, the love for the business, the talent I had, the will to train hard, harder than anyone else… that I could make it on my own. That I wouldn't need anyone, I wouldn't need to take any offers, any invitations.

I was young, naïve, thought I had it all. I should've listened to the others… to Evan, Kofi… even MVP. The power of one Randy Orton… or even HHH… is bigger than your own heart.

After that day, my life, my career spiraled down faster than it had begun.

First it were losses, then less camera-time, less matches, less signings… with that my pay-checks became smaller… and smaller.

Other wrestlers started avoiding me, some started playing pranks on me, started bullying me.

With less money came less freedom, with less freedom came less stardom.

I had to sell my house last month, living in a small apartment now; hotels changed from four stars to three... 2... Now I'm pretty much staying at the cheapest places I can get when being on the road. It's disgusting, it's a shame.

Randy never gave up. Every single weak he'd offered me that chance again. One time, one short suck, one short fuck for a whole career full of fame and glory.

And every single weak I gave him the same answer. I truly believed in myself… until last week.

I finally broke. I found myself waiting for him in my locker after my match, I wanted to take the offer, to finally get out of my misery, out of the shithole I've maneuvered myself into.

Funny thing is: he never showed up. I think he gave up the exact same day I did. I think his will to force me broke the same day my will to survive broke.

And I think that I fucked up. A heart and fire, a will and passion… it's not what gets you to the top… not in the greatest companies of them all.

My career ended before it even began.

Okay... done... I'll post the sequel to "Keep your hands to yourself" in a few hours and the next chapter of "Falling for him" tomorrow. If there's volunteers to look after my muses for a while, I gladly take the offers! I need a break! *runs away from insanity*