This chapter was inspired by the lovely and awesome LC Hime! (smiles)

"You could have just come to the party, you know."

"I prefer that we have a private party."

Vince McMahon stood across the room from Eric Bischoff, who was wearing a full suit, tie, and wicked smile.

"A private party, huh?" Vince asked with a raised eyebrow. "You have something planned?"

Eric threw his head back and laughed wickedly. "Sit on the bed, Vince," he commanded in a low voice.


"Sit down, and shut up! Now!"

The head of the McMahon clan blinked twice, very unused to being given orders, and even more unfamiliar with obeying. Still, he knew Eric must have had his reasons...

As calmly as he could, Vince sat on the edge of the bed, hands resting on his knees.

"Well, I'm sitting," he said with more than a little bit of attitude. Eric rolled his eyes.

"Didn't I tell you to be quiet? Now, let's"

He reached over and pushed play on his mp3 player, which had been hooked up to small but powerful set of portable speakers.

Vince's eyes grew wide as the oh-so-familiar song began to play:

I'm back, and I'm better than ever.
Got a knack for making things better.
Face facts, cause your opinion don't matter.
This maniac is gonna step on whomever.

Slowly, and to the beat on the music, Eric Bischoff began to strip.

He slipped the suit jacket easily off his broad shoulders, revealing a plain white shirt and blue tie underneath. Never taking his eyes off Vince's, he began to undo the buttons of the cuffs, lips curling in a smile.

"You know, I always did hate wearing these damn monkey suits," he said off-handedly, sliding his hands up his chest and to his tie.

"And these...contraptions...are the worst! I get hot just looking at one, much less nearly choking myself to death trying to look fashionable with it!"

Vince swallowed hard, feeling a thin sheen of sweat breaking out over his forehead. "And speaking of hot," he muttered.

It's time, get in line,
cause I'm gonna make some changes.
Kicking ass, taking names,
cleaning house, oh baby.
I'm burning out the deadwood,
burning down time.
Cause there's only my way, so get your ass in line.

By the time Eric straddled Vince's lap, his shirt was completely unbuttoned and the clasp on his pants was undone, the faintest bit of his underwear poking above the quickly-sinking hem at his waist. With total abandon, he kissed Vince full on the lips, tongue roughly tasting the inside of his lover's mouth. He had planned on going a hell of a lot slower, but when he had climbed on Vince and felt the older man's hard-on against him...

Well, it's really had to keep one's composure in such a situation!

With his eyes closed tight, Vince turned his head to the side and tried to gasp for air. He was suffocating. The nearness of their bodies, the heat growing both within and without him.

"I'm going to have a heart attack," he gasped, as Eric forced their mouths together once again, grinding his muscular body against McMahon's.

"I'll resuscitate you," Bischoff joked breathlessly when their lips parted again, panting as he tossed his shirt away. "In the meantime, though, you deserve a proper celebration for your achievement on this glorious day!"

Vince paused, and looked into Eric's dark eyes, cupping the younger man's face with his large hands. "I couldn't have done it without you," he admitted sincerely. "I...I needed you even back then, I need you now..."

Eric gently put a finger against Vince's lips. "And I need you to be quiet," he said with a laugh. "No sentimentality, at least not for now. Right now, I just want to fuck."

Mr. McMahon's chest puffed out on its own. The man in front of him knew him better than anyone else in the world. Of all his accomplishments, of all those things he treasured, Vince knew that the love he shared with Eric was the greatest of them all.

Yes, this was a night for celebration indeed.

"Well then, let's fuck."

It's all talk. They say that I've lost it,
but talk me down, and I swear it's gonna cost ya.
Now I'm back, to boss a few morons.
To never count me out is one thing you can count on.

Eric moaned loudly, bent over the edge of the high bed as Vince thrust roughly into him.

"Fuck...Vince...I wanted to top..." he gasped between breaths.

The head of the WWE laughed heartily, sweat pouring from his head and down his back.

"On my special night?" he asked, changing the angle of his thrust and making Eric cry out. "No chance in hell, Lover Boy."

Bischoff gripped the sheets in front of him, gritting his teeth as his body shook.

'Well, this didn't quite turn out like I thought it would,' he thought in the haze, noticing absently that he was still half-dressed. 'But I can't complain...'

Vince gripped Eric hips tightly, pulling their bodies even closer together, going in even more deeply than before.

Unexpectedly, Eric's hard cock began to be brushed roughly against the sheets and mattress, the intense friction and the feeling of being filled from behind driving him temporarily insane.

"V-Vince, I-I..."

Before he could even complete the sentence, his world was erased in a bright white flash, and long moan escaping his lips as his seed shot from him.

Vince was caught unaware by Eric orgasm, and with a cry of his own came hard, spilling his seed into Eric before they both collapsed onto the bed.

A long, silent moment passed, before both men looked up at one another, satiated smiles on their faces.

"Ready for round two?" Eric asked with a smirk, running a hand through his sweat-soaked hair.

Vince laughed, standing stark naked and proud on unsteady legs.

"Is Hell hot?"

It's time, get in line.
cause I'm gonna make some changes.
Kicking ass, taking names,
cleaning house, oh baby.
I'm burning out the deadwood.
burning down time.
Cause there's only my way, so get your ass in line.

Whoo! A hot night indeed! More to come, of course, featuring many of our dear ladies and gents!

In the meantime...Review? (wink)