Written for FortheLoveofWrestling. Merry Christmas! That being said, I own nothing. I just write the stories.
"God damn it, I don't want this match, Vince!" Mark pounded his fist on the table angrily. "Do you remember what happened to Foley? Michaels? Lesnar? I don't wanna hurt him, damn it!"
The gray-haired man across the table shook his head. "Too late, Mark. The match is set for Armageddon. Randy Orton versus the Undertaker in a Hell in the Cell match. And you will damn sure win. Or your job's on the line."
Glaring, the other man huffed. "Fine. But if he gets hurt..."
"You'll be responsible. Not me."
In the hotel bar, Mark sat, nursing a cup of whiskey, bottle before him. He glanced up when someone sat across from him. "Randy."
Randy grabbed the bottle from in front of the other man and took a glass for himself. "Mark." He took a long swig from his glass. "So. About the match tomorrow."
Mark sighed, shaking his head. "Has to stay as a Hell in the Cell." He took a sip. "But I'll try not to hurt you."
The short-haired man nodded, raising an eyebrow. "The Undertaker makes a promise of no injury? My ears have never heard this before."
Pushing a hand through his hair, the Deadman laughed. "Well, I don't wanna hurt you kid. There's... something about you. You've got potential. I'd hate to be the one to crush that."
Randy smiled. "Good. Because I've got a lot of Legends left to kill."
Mark shook his head. "Legend Killer my ass, kid. But anyway... Just be ready for a brutal match." He topped off his glass and stood, looking at the other man for a moment. "And make sure you get some sleep. Can't have you off your game when we're locked in there. Never know what I might do."
The younger's eyes widened slightly with his smirk, and he followed the man walking away with his eyes. "See you tomorrow, Mark."
"Kid, I swear, if you're trying to trick me, I'm gonna kick your ass!" Mark shook Randy a bit where he lay on the table, trying to get him to open his eyes. He turned, fury in his eyes, to see his boss. "God damn it, Vince, this is why I didn't want this match!"
A doctor now in the room, Mark stepped back so the man could look at the unconscious wrestler before them. After several tense minutes, there was a cough, and Randy's eyes fluttered open. He looked at the doctor, then at Vince, and let his eyes rest on Mark. "Jesus christ, that was a hell of a match."
A sigh escaped the Deadman's lips, and the other men left, leaving him with Randy. He looked at the younger man for a moment before sitting next to him on the bench. "You scared the hell outa me, kid."
Randy laughed a bit. "I scared the Undertaker? Something else I thought I'd never hear." He shook his head, looking at the other man. "You know, you didn't have to go easy on me."
"I know that, kid. I know. But... Like I said before, I didn't wanna hurt you." Mark looked down at his hands, deciding it was better not to look at him.
The Legend-killer raised an eyebrow. "Why not? None of that potential B.S. either. I know it's not that."
Raising his eyes, Mark looked at the man. "Well... You've got something, kid. I don't know what it is, but you've got something. Something that makes me like you."
"Like me how?" he asked, leaning a little closer.
"That's... not so easy to say. It's more something I'd have to show. And you might get a little bit mad if I did." He turned his face away, looking at the wall.
Randy put a hand on his cheek, turning his face to look at him. "Would you say it's something like this?" He pressed his lips lightly to the other man's before backing away.
Mark eyed him for a moment, then a small smile graced his face. "Yeah. Something like that."
Aww, the one-shot fluff of a Taker/Orton fanfic. Again, like the other one-shots, I shall continue this if it's requested. So! Review please! They're greatly appreciated!