Their Hearts Beat As One Too Many!
a collection of Slash and Femslash one-shots
Have you ever wanted the sex-filled chapters of a slash story, only without the story? Well we've came up with your solution. And this is the place. Myself and BellaHickenbottom have thought about so many different couples together and we decided to create "Their Heart Beat As One Too Many"!!
This first chapter is inspired by a picture that Bella captured at the RAW event the night after Wrestlemania XXIV. It looks like CM Punk and Chris Jericho are making out!
Chapter One - Alcohol, a Truck Bed, and Soft Blankets
Pairing: Chris Jericho and CM Punk
Author of Chapter: "Ace"
It was a cold night, and Chris Jericho could see that out the frosted windows of WWE Headquarters. After a long meeting, he had been so bored, discussing what the new storylines would be. He was happy he would be leaving in his surprisingly simple truck. A little beauty 450 horsepower, crew cab with a huge bed. He sighed pleasantly, a nice drive and a few beers to loosen up after such a boring day.
He whistled a tune under his breath as he walked out into the deserted parking lot. He had parked the truck into the farthest corner he could find, he couldn't trust drunk people and car doors.
As he was walking, he spied a figure, with his shoulders hunched, beneath one of the parking lights. Oh, he was...what was his name, Phil Brooks? Yeah that was it, he knew the guy's ring name was CM Punk but it was hard for him to recall his personal name.
He paused and ran a tanned hand through his gelled hair, the blond strands catching on his roughened hands.
"Hey, Phil?" The man called out.
Phil whipped toward him, brown eyes sparkled in the gloom despite the light over his head.
"What?" He looked at him with suspicion.
"Well," Chris paused. What had he been thinking? "I was wondering if you'd be interested in joining me at the bar downtown?"
Phil blinked at him, "I don't drink."
Chris felt himself flush and mentally began to kick himself.
Phil read the embarrassed man's face and cut him a break, "But I wouldn't mind a Pepsi right now."
"Do you have any place to be tonight?" Chris asked the black-haired man.
Phil's face grew dark, "My ride didn't show."
Chris smiled, flashing perfect white teeth, "Pretty lucky I was here then, huh?"
Phil toyed with his tongue stud, clicking it against his teeth, "I don't believe in luck," he spoke as he walked away from the light. "Where's your vehicle?"
Chris felt uncomfortable, scratched at his head, and shrugged. "It's over there." He pointed toward the back of the parking lot.
Phil nodded, and flipped the collar of his genuine leather jacket and walked in the direction of the truck.
Chris unlocked the doors with a push on his key chain. The purrs of the engine made him smile as he threw open the driver's door and hopped in, "You ready mate?"
Phil wanted to seem indifferent, but halfway through flipping his ponytail under his baseball cap, he smiled. "Sure, let's get going."
Phil wasn't sure what to expect when Chris Jericho walked up to him. He had never personally got to meet the blond man outside of the ring, but he seemed like a social butterfly. So he was extremely surprised when he saw the man stroll over with a lazy smile on his lips and ask him out to a bar. Of course it was merely friendly, a man like Chris seemed to need several friends.
The bar, Bad Dog, was hopping and full of drunk, half-wasted, and going to soon-be-dancing-on-the-bar people. When Chris parked and flashed another smile, Phil gave a weak one but resolved himself to have a good time. Chris felt invigorated as he walked through, plopped into a seat in a booth, and hailed down a busty blonde with an overly large smile on her face.
"What can I get for you two handsome gentlemen?" The barmaid asked.
"I'd like a mug of Molson and my friend here'll have a Pepsi on the rocks," Chris ordered.
The blonde flushed a smile and pranced off. She twirled past drunken grasping hand and wolf whistles. She walked around the polished wooden bar, spun out a bottle and a mug. As she was pouring out a Pepsi, she noticed the dark haired man nervously perched on his seat. 'Hmmm some rum will make him loosen up," she thought to herself. She cheerfully spiked the drink before traveling back. She plopped the drinks in front of the men, gave a flirtatious wink at both of them and walked away.
While chatting over drinks having fun, Chris decided and wondered why he hadn't asked the man before. He was through his third beer and was nursing a fourth. Phil had decided not to comment on the taste of the Pepsi, after all this was a bar, and swallowed it. He was feeling lightheaded and he was laughing at everything.
Chris sighed, "So Phil where do you want me to drop you off?"
Phil wiped at his eyes and twirled his stud thoughtfully, Chris's eyes wandered to it briefly before stopping himself. A tongue stud wasn't so interesting but that tongue was skillful.
"I don't feel like going home now!" Phil smiled drunkenly.
Chris agreed, knowing that his wife was angry when he announced that he was leaving to go to WWE Headquarters. He wasn't looking forward to a long lonely trip to Florida. He still had a while before he had to leave. "How about a drive?"
Phil laughed obnoxiously not quite comprehending entirely what was going on, and Chris wasn't doing so well himself. Beer and fun, and he was starting to get a drunken and happy high.
They stumbled toward the door, close with arms shrugged over each other's shoulders but neither knew who was holding up who, both were having hard times walking. Somehow Chris managed to find his truck, and Phil, after missing a first time, hauled himself into the passenger seat.
Being drunk and driving was never a good idea, and somewhere in Phil's brain sparked a little thought that they probably should pull over somewhere. Chris started, his drunkenness impairing his good judgment, but finally, not the type to fight outside the ring without a good reason.
"We should pull over Chrisss," Phil giggled as he hissed the last part. "That's fun. Hiss Hiss."
Chris laughed and found a rest stop that was deserted. They sat in silence and the trucks engine rumbled mutedly. Chris felt hot, it probably was a rise in temperature from sitting in a non-moving truck, drunk of his ass with a giggling wrestler in tow.
"I'm hot," he complained, his black jean-clad legs pushed forward and stretched out.
Chris murmured something to Phil, whose head had fallen to rest on the dash. "I've got some mink blankets in the back, want to go sit in the truck bed?"
Phil propped his head up by sliding a long arm beneath his chin, "I guess, but leave the radio on."
Chris complied and grabbed two soft mink blankets out of the back. He put one down in the bed put the other at the foot. Phil had finally gotten comfortable enough to take off his ball cap. The two men laid down, chatting about anything that crossed their minds, at the moment.
"No I'm telling you, Mr. Clean is black," said Chris.
"Nope, he's white," shot back Phil.
"Black."
"White."
"Black!"
"White!"
For a minute there was silence, "Fine, he's tan." Phil glumly admitted.
Chris laughed and let out a bellowing laugh. He laughed until his side hurt and he breathed, his sides heaving. Phil turned to stare. For a moment, that moment, that music from the radio dulled to a far-away buzzing. All that could be heard was their heavy breathing and the frantic pounding of heartbeats. Crystal blue met honey brown, crystallized puffs of air mingled to hot steam between them. Their noses barely touching, eyes locked onto the other eyes mirrored each others faces.
Everything stopped, blood pounded through Chris's ears. He wasn't himself, he couldn't think of anything other than the warmth of the body beside him. The other's breath on his face, his eyes darting back and forth between their lips.
Chris inched toward the other, noses bumped together, closer and closer till they were barely brushing. There were no fireworks when their lips finally pushed together, no angels singing, no earth shaking or shattering. It was a regular closed mouth kiss, but to the men, the kissing was new, explorative and exhilarating.
Chris immediately felt encouraged by the prolonged contact, Phil hadn't moved away and steadily moved to a point where it was too uncomfortable to confine in such a position, and since Phil did not seem too eager to move on top, he'd fill the roll. Chris flipped his body onto the smaller male beneath him.
He reconnected their lips and they both battled for dominance, their tongues fighting passionately for control of the other's mouth. Phil rolled his jean-clad hips upward, grinding against the others. Flashes of pleasure tingled up his spine and pooled in his stomach.
Chris broke with a gasp, breathless, senseless, and completely on auto-pilot his rough hands ran down Phil's ribs, brushing until they reached his narrow hips. Phil threw his head back in both pleasure and oxygen deprivation as Chris's thigh rubbed it's way in between Phil's powerful thighs. Phil moaned as their hardened arousals brushed underneath tight jeans. Chris growled in the back of his throat as the man beneath him pushed up. Hands and limbs sprawled and entwined until there was no distinction between either man.
Chris brushed one hand up Phil's chest, rippled abs moved beneath his fingers as they twitched in anticipation and pleasure. The blonde man dipped his head down to kiss the beginning at the jaw where it connected to the tender flesh of the neck. Phil let out a hissing gasp as he felt sharp teeth nip and bite at his neck before trailing soft wet kisses along his jaw line left a trail of glittering saliva in its wake.
Chris was becoming quickly annoyed by restrains, and decided that they had to come off. He occupied Phil's mouth as he used one hand to unbutton the jeans of the dark-haired male beneath him. Chris pulled down the zipper and groped past the boxers in his way. Phil let out a sharp yelp and his hands gripped the broad shoulders of Chris. The pony-tailed man let his head fall back as the talented fingers and hand probed and squeezed.
"Chris!" He gasped out, thrusting up into the man's hands.
Chris responded by ripping the thin black and white t-shirt from Phil's chest.
Chris eyed the span of the well-defined chest and abs, his lips left Phil's with a sexy lick before dropping to the clavicle and following the trail of sweat down the wrestler's chest, his tongue darting out to a dusty nipple. Phil seemed to reawaken and brought up his clinging hands to grasp at Chris's own shirt after a few experimental tags, he grunted and yanked harshly.
Chris laughed against his chest, "Persistant much? Fine, rip it off, I've got a hundred others like it."
The button up shirt was no match against Phil and the buttons pulled off with little pops as he ripped if off the shirt, the buff man leaned back so they could ease it off. Phil pushed up as Chris pushed down, they met in a battle of teeth and nails. Snarls of pleasure and moans mingled as they rolled about, wrestling for dominance, as often happens, Chris slammed Phil down and tugged off each pant leg.
Clad in only boxers, Phil fell back as Chris hovered above him on his knees. He drank in the sight of the tanned man, his long hair beginning to spill out of his disarrayed ponytail, half hidden eyes of murky brown filled with desire and lust. His head was tilted back and Chris followed the neck with his eyes as it flowed into his chest, rippled abs and wet nipples, red and swollen, from Chris's earlier fun. He smiled as he eyed his handiwork, average shoulders led and tapered to a tiny, well tiny for a wrestler anyway, waist then flared out to well-muscled thighs.
Phil's erection tented profoundly in the black boxers he wore as he tilted his head in a sultry look. Ahhh drunk and horny, mixed to cause trouble yet again. Chris removed his own pants with a smirk, slowly hovering the waist down over his sore, throbbing cock.
He moaned as he pushed past it, it bobbed proudly to full upright position, and at his feet Phil eyed it with a hungry look.
"May I?" he asked, staring unabashed into the blue eyes above him.
"Well if you insist," his Canadian accent made Phil smile.
With sure hands, he reached out and slipped the boxers down. All of Chris's manhood stood like a soldier at attention, rigid and hard, veins throbbing. Chris lowered himself to the truck bed and rested on the tool box that stretched the expanse of the width of the bed. The cold metal was relief to his burning body. Phil crawled over and deposited himself in front of Chris's dick.
Phil eyed Chris again, "I've never done this before but I've had it done so..." He trailed off and bowed his head.
His lips touched the head and slowly were pushed past his pouted lips. His teeth grazed the sensitive shin and Phil's tongue swirled lazily along the delicate underside.
"Holy Shit!" Chris braced himself against the side and tilted his head back as the moist warmth enclosed him.
Phil bobbed his head, his hand fisted about the enlarged shaft. They pumped in unison, Chris brought one hand to grasp the ponytail and break the hair band. Silky strands of black hair cascaded around his shoulders. Chris shoved the man licking on his dick back and leapt on him. He tore off the boxers and reached his hand up to Phil's mouth.
"Suck."
Phil, now enjoying himself, took the sensitive tips of the older man's fingers. He swirled his tongue, playing and nibbling. Chris shuddered as the moist tongue danced around his fingers. His cock throbbed with such intensity that he nearly came. It took all his strength not to turn the younger man onto his stomach and pound him into the bed of the truck. Wet fingers traveled down to the defined curve of Phil's buttocks.
Chris trailed his tongue in lazy sweeps down his chest, naval, and across curled dark patches of hair. Phil screamed as he was engulfed in Chris's mouth. He was so preoccupied he didn't notice strong fingers poke his entrance and push in. It was uncomfortable, but he was floating on high as he felt the strokes and teeth graze him. He yelped as a second finger was pushed in, scissoring him open, stretching him.
"That's two fingers," whispered Chris, watching the emotions flicker across the black-haired man's face.
He crooked his fingers probingly, searching for that one spot... That's when Phil threw his head back and let out a scream of complete pleasure. Shocks of energy ran through his body, his toes curled down into the blankets. His hands found their way back to the shoulders and he hung on as the fingers began to push and thrust against his prostate. He rocked his hips, wrapping his strong legs up around Chris's chest.
Chris chuckled as he slipped his fingers out. He moved back up and kissed Phil's neck before biting into the flesh, not viciously but it attracted the attention away as he pushed his stiff cock into the younger man's tightness.
"Shit!" Chris said, closing his eyes and forcing himself not to thrust wildly away.
Phil gasped from pain, it really hurt, but it was slowly going away. Phil brought his legs to wrap around Chris's hips, his nails digging gouges of red bloody flesh out of the blonde man's shoulders. Chris intended to thrust at a slow steady pace, Phil was okay with that, but when the shaft inside him brushed his sweet spot, he furiously rocked himself, clawing and biting Chris's neck to get him to move faster.
Hard, fast, rough. The sound of flesh slapping flesh, hisses smacking each other, and moans. Phil gasped as Chris stopped, flipped him over and brought his lips up. On his elbows and knees, his ass in the air, Chris reared up and sank back into the warm willing flesh. Phil moaned and gasped, his chest heaving as he rocked backwards to meet every frantic thrust from Chris.
Chris leaned down over Phil, his body practically molding to his, and increased his depth, "You're-so-tight!" he gasped, each word punctuated with a thrust.
Phil gasped, nearly crying as his own throbbing member rubbed with each thrust against the silky smooth blanket.
"Chris. I-I-need to-" he gasped out unable to fully form all the words required to form the full sentence.
Chris, in response, wrapped one hand down around Phil's waist to grasp the hard member. Phil let out a garble of words, his head resting against his arms. He reared up as he came, red hot fire raced through his veins, his entire body, every nerve ignited in pleasure. His anal muscles clamped and twitched along with the rest of his body. Chris swore as the muscles clamped around his penis causing him to speed up.
"God-so-good!" Chris cried out as he thrust on last time. His hot seed spurted and they collapsed together in a pile of sweaty, sinewy limbs.
Phil sighed as Chris curled around him while pulling up the other blanket, the chill of the night raising goose bumps on his arms, his sweat cold.
"Well," Chris started, "That was amazing, I guess I was lucky tonight."
Phil turned so they were chest to chest, "Hmmmm, well maybe."
"So," Chris started again, a hopeful edge in his tone," A-gain?"