Title: Far Too Pretty To Be Giving It Cheap
: Emono
: Wrestling
: Shawn/Morrison, Morrison/Tricks
Under The Rose series
In the time of Hart's Court, Shawn falls in love with a stripper named Nitro.
: The WWE is not mine nor are any of it's child branches, it is the 96% property of the McMahon's and God bless the bastards that work for them. I respect the sexual preferences and identities of all the wrestlers on WWE roster, and who they share a bed with is really none of my business.
: Slash, D/S, rape, smut, stripping, underage

AN: I cannot believe I'm writing this, I seriously CANNOT believe this! Consider this Morrison's story in the UTR series. I'm pretty sure several people requested this, but I told them no. I guess I was wrong, huh?

The spotlight was hot. Isn't that what people always said? The limelight could burn you? Johnny had always craved attention; he'd always wanted everyone's attention on him. Well, he finally had it.

The bass beat of the remixed song pulsed through the floor, up the platform, and made the pole in his hands quiver. The multicolored lights were on him, crimson and jade danced over his nearly naked form in waves. His moves were graceful, lean muscle helping him bend and curve to tempt wandering eyes. He threw back his mane of blonde hair, exposing his blue-hazel eyes and gold painted lips. The leather pants he wore did nothing to hide his strong legs, outlining them as he moved around the pole. Glitter lotion had been rubbed deeply into his naturally bronzed skin, sparkling under the lights. He had the classic good looks that all men desired, a smooth jaw and clear skin. His body was waxed smooth for the job, but he was all man.

Though a bit on the skinny side, he was a beautiful creature to behold.

Johnny looked out into the crowd, trying to repress the disgust he felt welling up in his chest. He knew what they wanted; they wanted his pants to come off.

//They will, boys// Johnny smirked //Be patient.

Johnny had been working this club for only a month, but already he was a favorite. No man could resist him, and the few women that came in were just as bad. But he'd been stripping since he'd turned seventeen. It was the only way he knew how to support himself. The moment he'd graduated, his family had kicked him out for being a little faggot. He was bi, yet that didn't seem to matter. He'd shattered their dreams, and for that he was paying a heavy price.

It didn't help that he couldn't keep a job down for more than a few weeks. It always ended one of two ways. Either with sexual harassment, or he'd gotten himself so strung out that he'd have to take a day off just to sleep. Bosses didn't take too kindly to not calling in.

So here he was, showing his body for money. He wouldn't be buying a Porsche anytime soon, but he could support himself. Nearly two years he'd been taking off his clothes…he'd built up immunity to it. The leers, the cat calls, the whole 'nearly naked' thing. It wasn't so bad once you got used to it. He'd accepted a long time ago that he would never be anything but a sex object, that he was to be ogled at for the foreseeable future. Relationships were out of the question. Either his date was repulsed by his job, or he was a huge fan. It wasn't so bad to be alone. He was a coveted object, and he decided to put that to good use.

A few months ago, Johnny had resorted himself to the lowest of the low. Stripping wasn't making ends meet, not the way he wanted them to at least. So, after much crying and rationalizing, he got on his knees for his first trick. A few weeks in, he was on his back.

Johnny used allies and cars as his office, and he'd gotten much too good at offering himself up and seeing it through.

Though it left him feeling cheap and used, he could support himself fully now.

Johnny swung out, showing off the line of his neck before pulling himself back in with his grip on the pole. He looked out into the crowd once more; the place was pretty full tonight. There was a group not to far from his platform, about eight guys or so at one table. They were drinking beer and ogling some of the female tail around, laughing together. They seemed tired though, like they were winding down from a long day.

They were all built, all rather handsome.

//They might be from that wrestling event in town// Johnny mused, folding his leg around the pole and showing off the straps of his thong to some of the interested patrons behind him. He kept up with the song, giving the crowd what they wanted with each arch and low-riding sway.

Johnny couldn't shake the feeling of someone staring at him. Not the usual stare, this one was much heavier. His cheeks flushed, he could tell someone was staring intently at his face. It was strange. He was pretty hot, but most of the tricks just wanted his ass or his mouth. He raked his golden tresses and back out of his face, tipping his head back so he could look for the patron that was staring at him.

There was one man at the table of wrestlers that he couldn't stop his eyes from going back to, just one. The man's fierce sapphire eyes were the ones that had been burning into him. The patron had long, thick copper colored hair, spilling over his shoulders. Some sandpaper stubble graced his cheeks, golden under the dim lights. Tan, thick arms, handsome as sin. He wore a necklace made of two thick silver chains, the inner one smaller than the main chain. Wide circle links replaced any jewel, about an inch of extra chain hung from it and settled in the dip of his collarbone. A southern born by the boots and the worn jeans, strong and sure of himself.

The man watched Johnny without blinking.

Something hot bloomed in Johnny's belly, something he hadn't felt in a while. It was lust. He actually lusted after the handsome patron! He'd never felt so thrown by a single person before, let alone a man.

Before Johnny could stop himself, he was slowing down his movements to a seductive grind. He wet his lips, keeping the handsome patron's gaze with his own. Still swaying, he raised one hand above him to grip the pole while the other skidding over his abs. The man's interested smile turned into a lusty smirk, his eyes following the movements.

The spectators around Johnny moved around the platform, getting their money out.

The blonde palmed himself through the leather of his pants, gauging the older man's reaction. A cocked eyebrow was all he got. Johnny thumbed the button briefly, then arched his hips and all but ripped open the fly. The copper haired man licked his lips, hungry for the next movements. Johnny turned and shimmied his lean hips, dipping down a bit with each inch he revealed. He shot the man a look over his shoulder, flaxen hair glowing against his skin. The leather pooled around his feet, revealing a golden thong to match the rest of him.

The men around him were going crazy, he could feel their dollar bills fluttering along his feet.

And just like that, the spell was broken.

Johnny flushed in shame, looking away for the rest of his dance. His movements last their passion, becoming more calculated. He kept his eyes straight ahead or closed, for he knew the handsome patron was still watching him.

Soon enough, he saw his replacement (Cherry, one of the nicer girls that worked at the club) striding toward him. He timed his last swing to the music, ending his routine on the last notes. More bills were tossed, and he smiled real sweetly when some were tucked into his thong by bold hands.

"See you later, boys" he husked, quickly gathering his money with skilled fingers. He knew how to pick up and get out, and just as he stepped off his platform - Cherry stepped on. Just in his thong, he made the dangerous walks of shame to the back room.

The entire time, the mysterious patron watched him.


Just another hour and he could leave. His boss put him on drink dispersion. It required a lot more acting, but at least he got to wear more clothing. He had his leather pants back on and let them hang low on his hips, a solid dark green t-shirt on his torso. It clung to him like a second skin, the material thin enough to outline his muscles.

Johnny hefted the round tray on his open palm, letting the round of beers rest on his shoulder a bit. He weave his way through the club, keeping a warm smile on his face through the ogling and the greedy hands. He arrived at the table, the two girls there eyeing him while the one cheered for their drinks.

"There you are, boys" Johnny gave a flirty giggle, offering the tray down on the table. The bottles disappeared quickly, two martinis for the girls had been hidden amongst the beer and were taken as well. The blonde took the fifty, turning to go and get the change and the next order of drinks for another table. He actually yelped when a thick hand slapped him on the ass, the tray falling from his hands and clattering to the floor. His cheeks flamed, shame filling his gut as he knelt down to grab the tray. He tried to hurry, but one of the man's greasy hands shot out and grabbed him by the chin. He winced, his head forced up while he still crouched on his knees.

"Keep the change, bitch" he said the insult like it was the highest compliment "We'll call you back to earn it, later."

Johnny tried to look intrigued, but he was sure only came off looking nauseas. He picked up the tray and got to his feet, hurrying off. He got to the bar, accepting the next set of drinks and nodding dumbly when the bartender pointed out the table. He balanced it carefully on his shoulder once more, trying to smile and he headed toward the table of wrestlers. His face was hot, he could feel the disgraceful flush all over his body. He hated this part of his job, dealing with the greedy hands of the clients in public. It was one thing to get on his knees in an ally, it was a whole other to have his body handled in front of the entire club.

"Here you are, boys" Johnny greeted them like he did everyone else. He laid sat the mixed drinks out and they each took their own, all except for the man on the end. The mysterious patron, the one that had stared at him earlier. He walked to the end of the booth, handing him the last shot of whiskey that had been left on the tray.

"I believe this is yours" Johnny's smile was more sincere now, the man was looking at him with a warm expression.

"Thanks, kid" the man had a subtle drawl to his voice, as inviting and rich as the amber liquid in the shot glass he accepted.

Johnny's blush was from nerves this time. Without a witty response, he took the twenty slid across the table and went back to the bar. He went to the far, shadowed end where the neon behind the bottles of alcohol couldn't touch. He sat the tray on the counter, scrubbing his hand over his eyes. He hated that he felt this way for a man that had come in here of all places.

Someone came up behind him, he could feel their body heat along his back. He whipped around, eyes wide in panic as his mind raced through all the possibilities of what could be happening. All those horrible thoughts stopped when he saw who it was, the wrestler. His eyes were even bluer this close, and Johnny found that his heart slowed down almost immediately. A strange calm washed over him, and he slumped against the bar.

"I saw what happened" the man stated, sympathy (not pity) in his eyes "That wasn't right."

Johnny shook his head, "I'm used to it."

"I'm Shawn" the copper haired man stated, the scent of subtle cologne and natural musk was intoxicating. Johnny wanted to tell him to fuck off, wanted to tell him to fuck him right here…he wanted to tell the handsome man a lot of things. But looks could be deceiving, and he wasn't going to end up in a back ally with his throat slit.

Shawn actually chuckled at the boy's nervousness, "And yours?"

"Nitro" he replied sharply, indicating that all he was gong to get was his stripper name.

Shawn's hand shot past him, causing the blonde to flinch. The man's hand wrapped around the bottle of whiskey on the counter, a smile curling his lips.

"I ordered the bottle."

"Sorry" Johnny murmured.

Shawn took a step back, "I'll find you later."

Johnny's heart sank into his stomach as the man walked away, aching something terrible. That's what the man wanted, it was so clear now. Shawn was a potential client, a trick-to-be. He turned around, hiding the glisten in his eyes. He fought off the urge to be hurt, to be wounded by this sudden knowledge. He sniffled softly, then barked at the bartender for the round of cosmos for one of the all-female tables.

//Mindless sex// Johnny placed the drinks rather carefully on the tray //That's all he wants from me. Meaningless, quick sex.//

It suddenly hurt to breathe, so he picked up the tray and hefted it to his shoulder. He shuffled toward the table, putting on a smile when all he felt like doing was curling up somewhere and dieing.

"Here you go, ladies" he wiggled his eyebrows at them "Sorry for the delay."

One of the girls snapped the exposed string of his thong, getting a roar of giggles from the table.

Johnny somehow managed to keep his smile.


Shawn plopped back down in his seat at their reserved table, putting the bottle of whiskey down next to his empty shot glass. Though his best friends had the decency to pretend they hadn't noticed his obvious staring at one of the strippers, they did turn to look at him now. Bret was giving him a rather pointed look over the top of his sunglasses, a slight smile on his face. Mark had the rim of his beer to his lips, brow creased. Nash was sitting back in his chair, the large man's hands folded on the table and a smirk twisting his lips. Scott was just shaking his head, since he was the only one in the group not a master. But he was part of The Clique, which was almost as good as being in Hart's Court. Scott just didn't have the right attitude to be a master. He could play dirty enough, but he didn't have the dom instincts nor the urges to claim someone as his own and take care of them. Bret had a sweet female pet, but the rest of them were still looking.

"Well?" Bret prodded.

"What?" he asked innocently.

"Don't play dumb" Kevin scoffed, sitting up and taking his beer "What're you thinking, Shawn?"

"The kid couldn't be nineteen" Shawn sighed, pouring himself another shot "He's jumpy as hell."

"As he should be" Mark swept his eyes around the place "This is a seedy club for a child."

"That poor boy" Shawn muttered, eyes going across the room where the boy was handing out cosmos to a tipsy table of women. They were eyeing him appreciatively, two of the closets girls reaching out once and a while and stroking him.

"He's beautiful" Bret offered.

"Yeah, he is" Shawn breathed, taking in the sight of the enticing stripper. The boy was young, too young, but his dominant instincts didn't care. Nitro was golden, from his hair to his painted lips all the way to the golden thong showing off over the line of his leather pants. Such a beautiful creature, so graceful, just perfect in his eyes. He'd never felt so drawn to someone before, especially not someone so young.

Shawn watched helplessly as a man strode over to Nitro, grabbing the boy's ass and pulling him into his much larger body. The man was tall, dark hair, handsome in a dark way. Nitro flinched away from the touch, but smiled through it. The man whispered something in the boy's ear, it must've been something crude from the way Nitro paled.

Mark tensed, "Maybe you shouldn't watch this, Shawn."

Shawn looked to his best friend, knowing he meant well. But his voice died in his throat when he saw the sleazy man and the beautiful boy exit the table area, going toward the couches that were used for only one thing. Shawn wanted to look away, he truly did, but the something inside him wouldn't let him. The dark man sat down on the couch, spread out his knees and laying his arms along the back of the couch.

Nitro looked to Shawn, eyes filled with humiliation and hurt. But he did his job like a pro. He put a seductive smile on his face, standing before the man and slowly shedding his shirt. He material fell to the floor, his hands running over his own flesh. He mewled, dancing for the man like a common courtesan.

Shawn scowled as the man smirked, eyes filled with lust and all but drooling when Nitro crawled into his lap and straddled him. He was pushed back, sinking into the plush couch as the stripper gyrated in a dance of desire upon him. Nitro's golden locks flew behind him with a sweep of his head, hands taking liberty on his client's body. He had the bastard panting in no time, his hands coming up and gripping the young dancer's hips.

Time slowed down for Shawn, like in a movie. He felt the anger fill his heart, these new possessive feelings were screaming at him to go over and rip the boy from the man's lap. Nitro turned his head and looked over his shoulder, blinking those lovely blue-hazel eyes in an innocent way. He looked so young, so sweet, even bare-chested and giving a lap dance. Tears were there, his lower lip quivering.

He was asking for forgiveness.

The man's hands flared over Nitro's ass, skimming up his back.

Nitro turned back to the man, and it broke Shawn's heart.

Bret watched The Heartbreak Kid, noting the way he slammed down his shot of whiskey and the way he nearly broke the bottle when he re-poured, "Shawn…"

"What?" Shawn barked impatiently.

"…what are you thinking?" Bret asked calmly.

"Nothin' " Shawn lied, refusing to look away even as Nitro unbuttoned his pants and exposed his golden thong once more to hungry eyes.

"You want him, don't you?" Mark inquired, intrigued by this.

"This whole club wants him" Scott snorted, not realizing what they meant.

"How long would it take you to claim him?" Bret asked.

"A half hour, if he's willing" Shawn replied honestly, taking another shot and hissing "An hour if he's not."

"You want him bad, don't you?" Bret tisked, smiling fondly.

Shawn didn't reply, but his mind seemed to be made up already.

"Okay" Bret drained his beer, signaling one of the on-duty strippers to get them another round "We'll stay a bit longer."

Shawn nodded, growling when he saw the man slip a twenty into Nitro's thong.

He made the boy take the second twenty between his teeth, or not at all.


Johnny was finally off, he went into the back room for the strippers. It was made up of a long counter with a mirror behind the length of it, a vanity for them to get dressed up in front of before they went out. He shed his thong and other clothes, shoving them into a duffle bag and kicking the offending thing under the table. At this point, he didn't care if anyone stole his gear.

Johnny grabbed the washcloth off the counter, he had wet it earlier in the bathroom. He scrubbed at his face, wiping away the golden gloss and rubbing at the shadow and liner that had highlighted his eyes. Once his face was red and fresh, he dropped the cloth on the counter and looked up. Some of the others were flitting through the room, but they knew he was technically jailbait and didn't give him a second look. He couldn't meet his own reflections eyes, but he could smile at the glitter that lingered in his skin. He picked up his brush, eyeing it a moment before running it through his hair.

//How did it get in my hair?// Johnny sighed, throwing the brush away. He smoothed down the fly-aways, but couldn't find it in him to care too much tonight. He was usually so meticulous about his appearances, it was too bad.

Johnny changed into a pair of plain jeans, pulling on a black button up and cursing when he accidentally ripped off the third. It had already happen to the first two, leaving the material gaping midway between his pecs. He threw his jean jacket over top of it, the bulky material covering him. He grabbed his wallet, shaking it and smiling in relief when he heard bus tokens. He shoved it into his back pocket, wondering what he would be eating tonight. His stomach growled, but he told it to be quiet.

Johnny strode confidentially out of the room, keeping to the walls of the club so as not to attract anymore attention to himself. He couldn't stop himself from glancing to the wrestlers table, but they were gone. He was relieved, he couldn't handle those piercing sapphire eyes on him again. Earlier, when he had been in that man's lap, he'd nearly gotten ill at the thought of Shawn watching him commit such a shameful act.

John went out the side door, the one that emptied into a side ally of an apartment building and a fence. It took him a few minutes to adjust to the dim light, but soon he could see like day. He started down the ally, looking straight ahead and praying nothing would happen. It just so happened that this night…he didn't have his pepper spray.

To prove he was truly God-forsaken, his prayer went unanswered. Someone grabbed him by the shoulders, swinging him around and pinning him to the fence.

"Take my damn money, I don't care!" Johnny screamed, clenching his eyes shut as he prepared himself to be hit "Every fucking night with you people!"

There was a soft chuckle, "Why are you screaming, Johnny?"

Johnny cracked open an eye, surprised to see none other than Shawn standing there in front of him. With the way the street light caught in his copper hair, he looked somewhat divine.

"What the hell?" Johnny didn't make a move to get away, in a way he didn't want to "How do you know my name?"

"I asked around" Shawn ran his eyes over the younger man "I gave you a chance to tell me yourself."

"You can't trust people who approach you in the club" the blonde stated softly, he blushed under the gaze.

"I know" Shawn reached out, gathering the boy's mane of blonde hair and letting it all spill over one shoulder "You're a good, smart boy, aren't you Johnny? You know how to keep yourself safe."

Johnny nodded, sighing out as the man stroked his hair like it was an exotic silk.

"You little bottle blonde" Shawn murmured, raising the boy's head with a thumb under his chin "I can see your roots, sweetheart."

"The men in there prefer blondes."

Shawn closed his eyes briefly, heart tugging at the innocent words, "What's your real hair color?"


"You'd look so beautiful with your hair black" Shawn's lips quirked "I wish I could see it natural."

Johnny tried not to tremble too much, but the Heartbreak Kid felt it, "You're scared, aren't you?"

"No" Johnny lied, straightening up and looking the man in the eyes. He slapped his hand away, crossing his arms over his chest and raising his chin.

"If you want a fuck-" Johnny's lower lip trembled a bit, but he forced it still "-it's fifty on my knees, a hundred on my back."

Shawn shook his head, amused, "You poor, sweet 'thang."

Johnny found himself pressed against the fist again, the man up in his personal space. His breath hitched, Shawn's hands fisted either side of his jean jacket and pulled it down his shoulders. It fell to the ground, forgotten as his hands touched his shirt lapel next. Nitro was afraid for a moment that the man was going to take him right here, fuck him raw, rip off his shirt. But that didn't happen.

Shawn gently parted the material as much as it would allow without taking off any buttons, exposing his glittering skin.

"Yer far too pretty to be giving it cheap."

Johnny's eyes fluttered shut, the older man stepped closer and dipped his head down. The blonde's head was tilted back, exposing his neck. Shawn dropped a sweet kiss along his collarbone, getting the kid to shudder. He ran his hands down the boy's torso, settling on his hips.

"I told you" he panted "I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be used to any of this" Shawn replied honestly.

"What do you want?" Johnny sounded so broken, it physically hurt HBK to hear this beautiful creature so defeated. He slipped a hundred dollar bill into his front pocket, smiling reassuringly.

"I'm not here to fuck you raw in a dark ally" Shawn assured him "I came to offer you some hope."

"What?" Nitro bit back tears, dropping his head back down.

"You sweet little glitter-doll" Shawn swept his eyes over the boy again, lust and love hot in his belly "I'm here to take you out of this hell hole. I'm going to take you back to my hotel room, we're going to stay there, and then I'm going to get you started on a new life."

It sounded too much like forbidden fruit.

"And in return?" Johnny asked, almost afraid to know the answer.

Shawn reached up and unhooked the necklace from around his neck. Instead, he slid it around the blonde's slender and latched it firmly along his neck. The chain was warm from the older man's skin, settling on him rather nicely. The weight was welcome, it grounded him.

"In return…you'll be mine" Shawn wasn't going to lie to the kid, he didn't want to hurt him further "It's going to be a few weeks before I get home, my job makes me travel. You'll be with me, and I'm going to start molding a future for you. I think you might be wrestling material."

"Wrestling?" Johnny's brow creased "Like fighting? I'm a little…"


Johnny nodded.

"You're not, sweetheart, you've got potential" Shawn ran a hand down the man's arm, pressing his thumb into the muscles "I think you'll do well."

Johnny reached up, touching the necklace around his neck, "I'll be…yours?"

"Yeah, Johnny" Shawn slid his hand up the boy's tan neck, threading his fingers through his hair "I'll mold you in my image. You'll be my perfect protégé. I'll teach you all that I know."

Johnny looked the older man over, growing hard in his jeans, "And…?"

"So eager for me?" Shawn grinned smugly, putting his arms out on either side of the blonde and pinning him to the fence "I'm going to take you to my home. I'm going to spoil you rotten, glitter-bug. I'm going to lay you out on silk sheets, worship your body the way it deserves…" Shawn dipped down, barely brushing their lips "…show you just how amazing sex can be, how high I can take you. I'll leave you in want of nothing, sweetheart."

Johnny melted into him, tears rolling down his cheeks. Shawn embraced the boy, sweeping him into his arms and putting his chin atop his head. He knew the boy would grow in the next few years, maybe get as tall as himself. He could see the wrestling potential in this lean young boy…in his sub.

Yes, his sub, his boy, his sweet glitter-doll. He was already so tender toward him. Bret had told him that he'd know when he'd found his sub, that he'd have these sudden feelings of possessiveness and care. Love, even.

"I'm filthy" Nitro mumbled into the man's shoulder, sniffling pathetically "I-I've had so many tricks…I've done some horrible stuff…"

None of that mattered to Shawn. He pulled back, the boy whimpered.

"Hush, glitter-bug" Shawn shed his thick leather jacket, wrapping it around his boy's shoulders "There you go. Come with me."

Johnny followed the older man down the ally, trusting him completely. He didn't know why, but the weight of the silver chains around his neck told him that everything would be okay. The jacket was warm and smelled delicious; he curled into Shawn's side and enjoyed the smell. He knew he'd come to crave that scent as a comfort.

They approached a large SUV; Shawn opened the door in the very back for him. He got in first, offering his arms out to the boy. Johnny crawled in after him, curling into his side. Shawn smiled down at him indulgently, slamming the door shut before wrapping an arm around the blonde's middle. He didn't bother buckling them in, Mark was a safe driver.

Johnny looked around the car, pulling himself tighter to the older man's side. There were other men in the car, all older than Shawn and just as muscular. One was already passed out, head lulled back on the seat in front of him and snoring. The one beside him, with pitch dark hair, was turned to give him a look that held a certain degree of fondness. The man with the skull cap over his hair was looking toward him as well, seeming to access him and his potential.

The man driving only a fool wouldn't recognize.

"Bret Hart…" Johnny breathed, in awe.

"Oh yeah" Shawn dropped a kiss into his hair, slinging his free arm over the back of the empty seat beside him "I'll tell you all about this in the morning. It'll take you a bit to get used to…but I think you'll be happy here, Johnny."

The younger nodded obediently, closing his eyes and burrowing into the thick leather coat around him.

Bret looked in the rearview mirror, suppressing a snicker when he saw that Shawn's hands were coated in glitter. Shawn had always been a flamboyant wrestler, even more in person.

//That boy was made for him// Bret decided //If he lets himself shine…//

"What are you thinking, Bret?" Mark inquired, looking to the Head Master.

"That boy's gonna be big" Bret started up the SUV, shades hiding the delight in his eyes "Mark my words: He'll out-glitter Shawn one day."

But Shawn couldn't care less, he was too busy stroking his sub's hair and crooning him to sleep.

I'm really happy with this, you don't even know. So happy, in fact, that I'm going to write a little more to it and even try my hand at an Evan one-shot. I'm SO glad I started this series.