This is and will probably always be one of my favorite underrated pairings. There might or might not be another chapter later, but first I gotta concentrate on a few other projects of mine. All reviews are welcome.
PS: The lack of feedback on the last chapter was kinda discouraging. I do hope this one is more to everyone's liking :)
Warning: Rated M (Story-Title says it all) - lots of fluff, roughness and passion
Disclaimer: All guys belong to themselves (or hot Supermodels)
Every once in a while he had that urge. Every once in a while he just needed it. Every time he felt lonely. Every time he felt vulnerable. Every time his anger rose and he needed an outlet. He'd tried sport, but it hadn't worked. He'd tried music, but it hadn't worked. He'd tried meditation, and you guessed it, it hadn't worked. But one thing had worked. All the time. Making him feel better. At ease. Relaxed. Good.
Not with women, but with men. He'd started with random guys at first, picking them up in a bar, on the street, sometimes even backstage. But he'd always craved for more. For some lasting valve. For one person always being there. Someone he didn't need to pick up, someone he could just call and a minute later he'd show up at his door, ready for everything. Ready to solve his problems.
And it seemed that he'd found that man a few months ago, right there in front of him for so many years already, right there in the locker-room, at work. So many times they'd shared a meal, a joint, a room and yet he'd never noticed the other's fondness, the other's affinity, his attraction. He'd just never looked at him that closely, intensely, had never looked at him as more than a co-worker, an acquaintance. But ever since that first time, the man had been nothing but willing, and Randy had become addicted to the feeling of having someone there to fulfill his needs whenever wanted.
He was in one of those moods at the moment, yet another chair flying, sailing through the air and hitting the wall in his locker with a loud thud. He was furious, and everyone around him had long bailed knowing how he got in that kind of state.
The bench fell next as he kicked it hard, ignoring the pain that shot through his foot when it made contact with the solid wood. The pain in his heart felt much, much worse.
She could have gotten everything from him, money, cars, house, but no, Samantha wanted full custody for their little sunshine. HIS Al. He'd just gotten the call. Less than 30 minutes before the show started and he needed to go out there, in front of Millions, putting on a show, having a match. Impossible in such state of mind.
"She can't be serious."
A loud thud indicated that his fist had hit the locker, the third time already since his lawyer had called, the pain shooting through his body and making him wince just slightly. The trainers would have a field-day with him tonight. But all he could think about was anger. Rage, disgust and anger.
His breathing was ragged, strained, his heart beating hard and fast, his vision blurred. He felt like being close to a heart-attack, his fist finding the locker once again, and another time. His knuckles were red, starting to swell, already bleeding, as he rammed them into the metal over and over and over…until he felt two strong arms envelop him from behind.
His first instinct was to lash out, but that subsided immediately as he inhaled the sweet Vanilla-scent preferred by only one man he knew. The one man who'd kept him calm those past few months. The one being a little bit taller, a little bit younger, but a lot more bulky than him. And especially a lot more understandable. Just like then.
That simple move already soothed him remarkably, his heart-beat slowing down and his muscles relaxing slightly, but the pain in his heart was still there. And he had only a few minutes to get rid of it. A few minutes to forget about it.
He could feel that Jake was already in his ring-gear, singlet, boots and nothing else; his bare arms warm against his own icy skin. Whatever it was, the other's presence always relaxed him, soothed him, even when they were in the middle of some hot, steamy sex-session. He was well aware that he was in the middle of falling for the tall blonde, hard, but that didn't matter in that moment. All he cared for was that he needed to calm down and that needed to happen quick.
Without a word, he fumbled for his fly, still shaking fingers managing somehow to open it and push his jeans down far enough to reveal his ass to the man behind him. He could feel Jake's smile against his shoulder and the grip around his waist loosening until the arms let completely go of him. A little shuffling and rustling behind him let him know that Jake had no restrictions -he never had- and was on his way to slip out of his singlet. He didn't need, nor did he want to turn around to see it, to see Jake; he wasn't in for passion and lust tonight, and he knew that Jake knew, that he understood -he always did.
It didn't even take a minute until he felt the hot tip right there, between his cheeks, moving up and down his crack until it was thoroughly covered in pre-cum, enough at least to not make him scream. He knew there wasn't any time for foreplay, there barely ever was, not that either of them needed it. One look at each other and they were both ready. Always.
He tensed, a natural instinct after all, when Jake pushed inside, the blonde taking quite his time, slow and steady. Randy really used all his willpower not to snap at him, to go faster, deeper, quicker. The burning of his stretching walls distracted him though. A good feeling, instantly making him forget everything else.
He braced his hands on the cold metal in front of him, tattooed biceps flexing as he let his head roll forward and closed his eyes. A content sigh slipped past his lips, Jake rewarding him with a kiss to his strained neck. Despite himself, Randy pushed back into the tender action, willing Jake's soft lips to stay right there, to continue. The tall blonde pushed inside fully, a little quicker than wanted, Randy groaning almost needily as Jake's loins came into contact with his bare ass, indicating that he couldn't go any further even if he wanted to.
Jake stilled for only a short moment, willing his labored breathing to steady somewhat again, before pulling out of the burning, pliant body of his lover again. His hands roamed Randy's tattooed muscles, lips twitching when he heard the sharp intake of breath by the slightly older man, He loved those tattoos, on his shoulders, his arms, his back, almost always taking his time to admire them with his fingers and his eyes equally.
The tense muscles of his lover jumped and twitched under his almost tender touch, Jake's smile widening to a smirk since he knew just how much effort it took Randy to stay still. But he also knew the other wasn't in the mood to play tonight, not now, his hips starting to move again in a steady, quick pace.
They never shared much words, neither one wanting to later regret things being said, body-language all they really needed to know what the other craved. Not that Randy had ever given Jake anything back. Because the blonde had never asked for anything.
Randy reveled in the sweet burn as he was stretched open, Jake's thick cock just the right size to fit him perfectly. Their naked torsos were close enough to touch, the heat radiating from them lathering their skin up in a fine sheen of sweat. The tattooed man felt warm lips caressing his neck, almost feather-like, in complete opposite to the sharp, quick snaps of Jake's hips. The blonde's hands were still roaming, feeling, possessive, adoring, from his shoulders down his back to his sides, stilling only one those thick, muscular thighs.
His grip was iron, clawing on the taut flesh as he pulled Randy's ass into his thrusts, deepening his movements until he heard the low rumbled, pleased moan slip from the older man's lips, and he knew he'd found the right spot. Randy's legs spread wider, as wide as the jeans pealing around his knees would allow it, his head lolling forward to rest against the cool metal of the locker. One hand braced against the same, fingers spread, twitching, the other hand reaching back, searching for the blonde, finding him, holding Jake's head were he wanted it, close. Feeling the hot breath on his skin, the soft stubble, the wet, soothing lips.
There was no real rhythm in Jake's actions, just quick pumps, hips having a life of their own, yet giving Randy exactly what he wanted. He'd forgotten. Everything. Only concentrating on the now and then. Thrilled. Sated. Relaxed. Close to heaven. Jake's unique scent, a little vanilla mixed with herb aftershave, Jake's breathing, his twitching muscles, his firm grip, his pulsing dick. He was so close to losing it, knees weak, heart furiously pounding, stars dancing.
All it needed was one firm stroke of Jake's hand and he was falling, swallowing down the desperate cry that so much wanted to escape his throat. His body went from tense to rigid, knees buckling after his high was over, but thankfully a strong arm around his waist kept him up.
It didn't need long for him to steady up again, Jake still inside of him, but unmoving, warm lips still on his neck, firm, but making no attempt to move either. He heard and felt the blonde's sharp, fast breathing, knew he was close but too proud to ask.
A loud knock on the door interrupted them rudely, a loud "5 minutes, Orton!" yelled from the hallway by one of their road-agents. Jake sighed against his neck, a sigh that held more disappointment than frustration. A soft kiss was placed on Randy's shoulder before the blonde retreated, still hard, throbbing cock slipping from a raw, still twitching hole. Randy's ass was quite a nice shade of red, but thankfully covered by the trunks he put on seconds later.
The blonde was just pulling the sleeves of his singlet over his broad shoulders when Randy finally turned to face him, still wobbly on his legs and feeling a little light-headed. Despite him and everything that had happened before Jake had entered the locker-room, he was smiling then, feeling at ease and relaxed. Comforted. Something only Jake managed. A therapy of some sorts, the best one, one he would break all his rules for.
Jake regarded him intensely, somewhat wary, watched the grey orbs lost in thought, distant, the small, rough lips being tortured by white, sharp teeth, Randy's neck strained to one side, brows furrowed in an act of concentration. But he didn't ask. He just waited. And when Randy made the step forward and pressed a light kiss onto his lips, murmuring a rather arousing "Thank You", he knew the waiting would always pay off.
"I'm going to pay you back later."
With a squeeze to his still rather sensitive and almost bursting jewels, Randy bid him a "Later" and left for his promo. A growled "Bastard" left Jake's smiling lips as he started to clean up the mess Randy had made, looking forward to a treat he'd waited for more than six months now.
You wanna read about that 'Later'? Review!