The night after Wrestlemania 23.
It was still full. Noisy. People chatting and partying and fighting all the same. It stank of beer and sweat and the expensive perfumes of the divas. Shawn was sure one of them wore fucking Angel by Mugler. His ex-wife used to wear it all the time. Didn't help his mood exactly when he went to the lockers, pushing people out of the way.
"Think the Heartbreak Kid is still pissed," someone shouted. Hell, they were right. After he had to loose his match against Cena and was forced to work with him tonight, no one could fucking blame him.
He threw open the door of his locker, a few other wrestlers looked up to him.
"Out,"said Shawn calmly, but his wrath still audible. He nodded to the door.
A minute later he was alone.
The sweat on his skin had slowly started to dry and his hair was stringy, clutching to his face and neck. He needed a shower. The thought of warm water let him smile a bit. Yeah, that was what he needed now.
But before he even could get up, there was noise outside.
"You don't wanna go in there now," someone said. Then a way too familiar voice answered: "You better go out of the way, I ain't up for fun now."
Great. A second later the door opened and there he was, the Boy Wonder John Cena.
Shawn smiled at him and hoped it was thread enough to get him out again. Of course it wasn't.
Cena threw the door in its lock and came over.
"What the fuck man? It wasn't supposed to go down like that," he said, his voice a low growl. But still there was this kind of respect the kid had for him. He didn't step closer than needed, didn't insult him.
"Cena, get your ass outta here or I guarantee for nothing," Shawn said, still smiling, but now standing up, gesturing with his hand to the door. The man didn't move. His eyebrows knitted together, he remained were he was. Standing still and strong.
"Last time. Get out."
Still Cena didn't move. "No."
Shawn's smile grew wider. In a heartbeat he took a step back and then sent Cena with his Sweet Chin Music right to the floor. Where he belonged.
"Warned you, boy," he said and pulled him up, pushing him against one of the lockers. Then cupping his chin in his hands before hitting him with his fist in the face. Cena groaned.
Shawn felt hot with satisfaction. He had wanted to do this the whole evening. Even though this meant loosing control … but hell, it was worth it.
He dragged Cena to the opposite wall, cupped his chin in his hands again, but before he could hit him, Cena took a strand of his hair and pulled him closer. He could feel his breath now.
"Don't like that, kid?" Shawn asked and looked him straight in the eye. Admiration and anger mixed in his berlin-blue irides. And suddenly there came a strike and Shawn had to make a step back, laughing lowly.
"Don't call me kid, Michaels."
"But that's what you are. A kid, wanting to play with the big guys."
The next moment Cena had him against the wall. His fingers around Shawn's neck. He bared his teeth, their faces were just an inch away from each other.
"Step away, kid," Shawn said, punctuating each word.
"I don't think so," Cena whispered in a husky voice. And went down on his knees.
For a moment Shawn was just perplex. Then he could feel Cena opening his belt buckle and pulling his trousers and pants down.
He didn't know why he didn't just pull his knee up into Cena's face. But fact was, he didn't.
Instead he looked down, lips slightly parted and stared first at Cena, then at his already half erect cock.
Before he could even think of saying something, Cena grabbed him, and mouthed at the head of his cock. A heartbeat later Shawn's blood was streaming south. He sucked in a shuddering breath as Cena took him all in.
It didn't seem like he'd done it before, but his tongue and his lips had Shawn twisting his hands in Cena's hair in seconds. The first minute Cena let him push his hips up into his hot, wet mouth, then the rough hands held him still.
Shawn leant his head back, mouth slightly agape, and couldn't believe that John Cena was sucking him off. And neither that he fucking loved every second of it.
A low moan came from his lips when Cena finally settled into a pace, bobbing his head up and down. Shawn glanced at him, watching the back of his head and his broad shoulders, muscles working. He moaned again and pushed him down with his hand in his hair once more. Cena moved faster.
A few more thrusts into Cena's hot and wet mouth and he came with a low groan. His orgasm was hot red and pure white before his closed eyes and pleasure throbbed through his body.
He opened his eyes again. Cena half swallowed, half spit his cum to the floor. The white fluid dropping down his chin, his lips red and swollen and his cheeks flushed. God damn, he looked gorgeous.
Then Cena was up and flipped him around. The plastic of the locker slick from his own sweat against his chest. And Cena pressed tightly to his back. He could clearly feel his erection against his thigh.
"I would love to fuck you right here and now," the man growled and a shiver ran down Shawn's spine.
"Not gonna happen," Shawn growled back, pushed his elbow into Cena's stomach and slipped out of his grip.
"Don't ever try doing this again," he hissed, got his bag and was out of the door in a heartbeat.
Shawn laid on his bed, eyes closed. He wore a bath robe, his body still wet and hot from the shower. Even the mirror in his bedroom was still covered with steam. After all the stress finally he got time to relax and take care of himself.
Eventually his thoughts came back to the last evening. When Cena went down on him and he didn't stop him, but rather thrust up into his hot mouth. God, fucking that mouth had felt so good. Using him after he had lost the battle against him felt like revenge.
In all the years he had never done it with another guy, though he had a few opportunities. Now, that he thought of it, he might just have taken the chances. Then again, he didn't think men were that erotic. Maybe except that fucker Cena. Whom he still despised. His broad shoulders and thin waist, his rough hands and his mouth …
Shawn felt himself getting hard. He pursed his lips in a grin and let his right hand slowly glide down his body.
The next morning he went down for breakfast. He had slept wonderfully and was smiling to himself. Some of the other wrestlers were there, too. He greeted them with a nod and then got himself some fresh orange juice, eggs, bacon and bread with butter and strawberry-jam.
It was a quiet breakfast and nobody interrupted his thoughts while eating. Afterwards he went for a walk. Had to enjoy every free minute this day and the fresh air was just good.
His flight back home went tonight at 2 a.m. and he wasn't all too pleased. Maybe he was really getting too old for this.
He knew Cena was in this hotel, too and he somewhat hoped for and dreaded another encounter with the man who defeated him in the ring these few nights ago.
And of course it was in exactly that moment that Cena went down the hallway he just entered. The man, key-card to his room in hand, slowed down immediately. Lust burning gloomily in his blue eyes, but his mouth, so secure that evening in the locker, now was unsure what to say.
He walked up to Cena and the next moment they were kissing. It was a hard and messy kiss. All teeth and tongue. They fought for dominance and finally Cena won, Shawn yielded and opened his lips for his tongue. Meanwhile Cena put a hand in his neck, gripping his hair and pulling his head back.
Then he was pressed against a door and suddenly inside a room, pressed against the other side of the door.
"Needy, aren't we?" he teased and pushed Cena away.
"You arrogant bastard," the other growled. Shawn chuckled and stepped forward, running a hand through his hair and pursed his lips.
"You're not gonna fuck me. Not if I fuck you first, boy," Shawn said, licking his lips.
"I'd like to see you try," Cena repeated, smiling smugly. Shawn licked it.
A second later he pressed Cena into the sheets, a leg between his thighs and his fingers gripping Cena's chin. He was hovering above his lips, feeling Cena's breath mingle with his own.
"You mean little cunt," Cena swore and gripped his hips, grinding against him. Shawn laughed.
"Not quite," he whispered throatily and licked over Cena's lips, amused by all the swearing he got out of the usually so controlled man. For a moment he let down his guard and in the next moment he found himself on his back and Cena between his legs. His hand fumbling with his belt and then sliding in, palming him.
"Mmn …" Shawn made and put an arm around Cena's neck, while throwing his head back on the pillow. Strands of his golden hair falling over his forehead and cheeks.
He thrust up into Cena's hand, then suddenly Cena's other hand grabbed his ass tightly.
"Shawn Michaels, I want you so badly," Cena whispered into his ear, nipping at his neck, then biting and kissing his skin there to leave a mark.
"Since when did you have the hots for me?" Shawn asked, smirking as he got up on his elbows.
"Always," Cena replied simply and pushed him back into the sheets. He slowly slid down, ripping his shirt open and kissing his chest, sucking at his nipples and then went further. He kissed the skin over Shawn's hipbones, while still palming him, then just gripped his trousers and pulled everything down at once. Watching Cena burying his head between his thighs made Shawn moan low in his throat. Then he finally was back inside the glorious wetness and heat.
Sweat was dripping down his body as Cena took his time with him. The other was naked now, too. He had just undressed, taking a pause from sucking Shawn off.
"Get on with it," Shawn moaned and thrust up his hips. His head was still thrown back on the pillow and his eyes shut. Just enjoying Cena's tongue and mouth.
Suddenly Cena slid his free hand underneath him, it felt somewhat slick — then there was a finger entering him. He tensed.
"What the fuck are you doing?"
"Shut up," Cena growled around his cock and that felt just so good. The finger was moving inside him. He glanced to the side where a bottle of oil stood on the bed table. A second finger joined the first. He groaned at the stretching.
"Fucking hell, you turn me on like nothing else," Cena murmured as he let his cock slip out of his mouth. Shawn wanted to protest, but didn't even get the chance, because Cena flipped him over, pushed him on his hands and knees. He heard him opening a condom.
"I'm gonna kill you for tha—"
But then he was inside and it fucking hurt. He let his head drop down, clawing his fingers into the sheets. Cena waited only a minute before he started moving. And not too slow, either.
But at some point, the pain started to mix with pleasure. Cena gripped his cock and started to thrust into him in a fast and rough pace. His other hand twisted in Shawn's hair, pushing his head down, then pulling him up again. With every thrust Cena made, Shawn answered with a moan. He didn't know when he started to push back, meeting Cena's thrusts halfway. Sweat was dripping down their bodies.
"God, you feel so good," Cena moaned close to his ear and then sucked at the skin of his neck.
A shiver ran down his spine and he arched back onto Cena's cock.
"Say that you like being fucked by me, say you like it being fucked by John Cena," the man groaned and pushed faster into him.
Shawn laughed shuddering and said: "Go to hell Cena."
Cena bit hard on his shoulder for that and thrust deeper. It sent sparks of pleasure through his entire body as he hit a certain spot. "Do that again," Shawn demanded, tensing around Cena's dick.
And Cena did it again. And again and suddenly Shawn was on his stomach, writhing underneath Cena. Arching back, keeping his eyes closed he felt himself coming closer. Meanwhile Cena's hand slipped under him again, wrapping his hand around his cock and stroking him in the rhythm that got faster and harder every second.
When he came, he felt already breathless. With Cena's dick inside him and his hand stroking him off, his orgasm hit him with a force he never imagined. He moaned loudly, swimming in pleasure and spilling in Cena's hand, clutching around him. That threw Cena over the edge, too.
He slipped out of him, leaving a wet trail and laid down next to him. Chest falling and rising fast.
After a few minutes, Shawn got up on his elbows, parting Cena's legs for himself to settle between them. "Next round's mine," he said smirking and fumbled for another condom in the drawer on the bed table.