Soooo, I wrote this little drabble thing in high school when I was obsessed with these two and thought I'd post it. Enjoy.
"The only thing between my soul and yours are the bodies that hold them, Shawn Michaels."
That's how it started, 16 words that changed his life forever. It shouldn't have happened; it was a chance meeting, just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Shawn had gone to talk to Vince and had somehow ended up in The Undertaker's locker room.
"Whoops, wrong room. Sorry, big guy." He had tried his best to stay away from Taker, he was warned by many. The guy wasn't nice, he was cold, and that's what they always said about him. He had unforgiving eyes and harsher thoughts. Shawn hadn't meant to intrude, but call it fate. The big man stared at him coldly, unyielding eyes searching his. Who was this guy? Shawn had been intrigued from the moment he saw Taker, but heeded the warnings.
"It's alright, Michaels." His voice was gruff, but he spoke the words with a softness that made Shawn stop it his tracks. He wanted, needed to hear that voice say more words, any words. "Ehm… nice room." He face palmed as soon as the words left his mouth. Nice room? Nice room? Seriously? He should've turned around and walked out, never looked back, but he was frozen to the spot. His face probably matched a damn tomato.
He heard a dark chuckle come from the man's throat. It sent shivers through him. Taker took slow, deliberately slow, steps towards him. His heart started pounding out of his chest and he was absolutely sure that this man could hear it. The door behind him was shut, but he backed up into it anyways, just in case. All of those warnings were circling around his mind. "Nice room, Shawn?" The question was meant to mock him, but Shawn just nodded, eyes practically bugging out of his head.
"Hmm… interesting. Have time for a chat?" With that low voice, Shawn couldn't walk out of the door now. He had to hear more of that voice. He needed more of that voice like he needed a cold shower. This man was dangerous, he had danger written all over him, but Shawn figured one conversation wouldn't hurt. "Sure, chats are nice. Mind if I sit, big guy?" He smiled a genuine smile, flashing his pearly whites at Taker, Undertaker of all people. The man nodded towards the bench, signaling Shawn's permission to sit.
Shawn had no idea how it happened, honestly. One minute, they were having a civilized conversation and the next minute he was being pinned up against the wall with Taker's mouth inches from his face. His dark eyes staring at his shocked expression, a smirk on those lips, and danger rolling off his body in waves.
"You know, the only thing between my soul and yours are the bodies that hold them, Shawn Michaels." With that said, Undertaker attached their lips and smirked into the kiss. He felt hands under his shirt, touching his skin. There were nails that felt razor sharp, piercing his torso and back, and teeth that sunk into his bottom lip. He shouldn't have been so excited by this when his mind was still yelling danger. Shawn pulled away from The Deadman to look into those piercing eyes, they saw straight through him.
"Well… I'm pretty confused, big guy and I was supposed to be at a meeting with VinMan two hours ago, he's gonna flip his shit. We'll talk later though, yeah?" He rushed out of the locker room, if he had turned to look back, he would've saw it. He would've saw that triumphant grin and known to stay away from this guy, but he didn't turn back.
"Found a new plaything, I see." Paul Bearers shrill voice scratched against the large man's eardrums. Yes, he had found a play thing and his name was Shawn.