He had to look away.
But it was impossible.
Damn Sheamus pulling up the fucking shirt.
He was a straight man. Dean Ambrose held no temptation for him.
At least, that's what he told himself every night since they met.
Noone else held his interest anymore. Food tasted bland at the thought of living without him. Touching his skin sent shivers down his spine.
It wasn't right.
It was impossible.
Or, at least, that's what he told himself.
Sheamus tugged up Dean's shirt, and once he saw that chest, John knew he was gone.
He stared at the screen and panted. The outside world, the world around the safe cocoon of the company meant nothing. Some unknown thing gripped his heart as Sheamus let him go and that Chest dropped out of view.
Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, there was the fucking match on Raw.
Dammit!
Why did he always have to be so fucking clothed.
It was wrong.
It was impossible.
yet it was life itself.
every touch was life itself.
It was better than life.
Dammit.
he wanted to live!
Fuck.
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Ambrose looked over at a sweating John.
Yeah.
Fuck. That chest, and those abs. Ooh.
Ambrose barely kept himself from walking over and licking his abs right there in the ring.
He shook his head. And made the tag.
And he was fine. He would have made it through.
Until John turned around.
That Ass.
Fucking product of the Gods.
Roman was eyeing him with worry.
Shit! how long had he been staring?
Fuck. Get back in the game.
John was a straight man. John held no attraction to him.
At least, that's what he told himself every night since they met.
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Then came the showers.
Those fucking gym showers with no doors.
It shouldn't be this way.
Someone else should be there.
Anyone else.
They were both naked.
Both showering.
Alone.
Everyone else had left for the night.
Suddenly, John's arm was on fire.
His eyes flew open.
He was fucking naked.
His life.
Fuck! look away!
Ugh! but I can't! God!
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Blue eyes.
Those blue eyes. They were on him.
He could feel it.
His eyes opened slowly. John. John is here!
Wait.
John is naked.
John is naked! Holy shit!
Quit looking!
ugh. Fine. At least smile, so he doesn't think you're a perv.
Keep your eyes AWAY from his ass.
Fuck.
Sculpting mastery of the gods.
Shouldn't have looked.
As soon as he saw those fucking dimples, he was gone.
he panted and his eyes glued to the wall.
Fuck.
Don'tgethard Don'tgethard Don'tgethard.
Just get the fuck out of here.
You are a straight man. Nothing about this is arousing.
Nothing.
Fuuuuuckkk!
Shit.
Shitshitshit!
he was hard. He was fucking hard in the shower.
John wasnt looking, maybe he didn't notice.
Well, fuck. He was hard too!
Aand, that's all one person? fuck me, please.
He brushes against him again.
A groan passed his lips unchecked and bounced around the walls
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In the same moment, they flew into each other's arms.
Red hot fire in the freezing shower.
Nothing shrank.
They staggered out together, kissing passionately.
Holy shit.
Orton's baby oil sat on the locker room bench.
Perfect.
Orton would be mad later.
Fuck Orton.
The oil made the perfect lube.
Ambrose bent over the bench willingly.
Fuck.
One fucking stroke and he was in a perfectly yielding fucking heaven.
He groaned loudly and began to move.
Bodies slapping together.
So perfect.
Better than anything.
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That's a first.
Never seen myself spurt precum before.
Fuck.
Right there.
Ambrose wobbled on his feet a bit as his legs wanted to give out. Fucking huge.
So fucking huge.
And so good.
Oh.
Fuck.
Wait, wha-
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Suddenly, Ambrose went limp and relaxed.
If it was possible, he felt even better.
John sped up
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Everything just went black. What Happe-
Oh, mother of fuck! Oooh!
Fuck yes!
Ambrose trembled and climaxed with force.
Fuck!
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The tightness overtook him.
It sucked him in.
Deeper.
Deeper still.
Fuck.
Oooh.
John came before he could pull away.
Beforehe could pull out, he felt himself getting hard.
Well, maybe one more time.
He was a straight man.
This wasn't attraction, Right?
This was pure, irrisistible lust.
...Wasn't it?