It was a different experience, to say the least. To be somewhere other than a random hotel room and have more than just a couple of hours, if not less, before one had to dart away, into the night or day. Less...personal in some ways. Dirtier in others.
Although, Paul had to admit as he lid there, flat on his back, butt naked and completely unabashed about the feeling of Steph's sleek, black couch beneath him, that what had just happened on said couch felt pretty dirty. And damn good.
He could almost feel it still, her thighs beneath his palms when he raised his hands, as he had back when she was still over him, his hands running up to grip tightly at her hips, digging his nails in only long enough to get her to flinch a bit before relenting and racking them back down her thighs once more.
Squeezing his fists closed, he let out a long breath as his head fell to the side and he took his first good look around. Paul had never been to Steph's place before and, not soon after arriving, he found himself being shoved down on her nice, comfy couch and hardly had a chance to even take a proper glance around. His full focus, after all, was on Steph from the start.
Alone then, in the living room, he had plenty of time to stare at things. Contemplate them. Like how, if he and Steph were going to continue this charade, he was going to need her to have far bigger a television in her living room. That he enjoyed her certainly expensive couch that looked the part, but was that special mix of just sleek looking enough without being uncomfortable, like a lot of people with money go for. He took note of the matching chair she had to go with it and the love seat, on the opposite side of the room of the chair, to complete the set, and wondered if he could get her to fuck on those two. And he certainly had enough time to reach over to the little end table that sat beside the couch, near his head, and knock that picture of Vince down because that was just creepy.
He had a sinking feeling though that those lurked throughout the house. The horror.
Stephanie had scampered off not soon after the, err, deed was done. His body had hardly relaxed back into the couch, his hands still trying to come up to his chest, so that he could lay them over where hers were pressing against his pecs, when they were just...gone. Her hands. She wasn't bracing herself against him or getting ready to shift comfortably to lay against his chest. No, Steph was up and off and he was by himself.
Honestly, for how different it was, to be in her place, it also felt much the same as usual.
Paul only let her go though, not calling out to her and not even thinking of getting up himself. No way. Her couch was somehow big enough for him stretch completely out and he needed that then, as, uh, for some reason, his back felt tight. Apparently, his back muscles, already put out about the four hour drive from New Hampshire, had not enjoyed the wonderful time he'd had since arriving as much as the rest of him had.
Now though, his breathing was stabilized, his braining had explained to his back muscles just why they had to suffer so, his stomach was growling, and most importantly Steph just wasn't coming back. He'd heard a door shut distantly after she'd disappeared and figured she was either hiding (she did that a lot) or had been expecting him to follow and, upon him not following through, assumed he'd run off (this also happened a lot).
If there was one thing that Stephanie knew about Paul though, so he hoped, it was that he was kind of an asshole. Just kind of. So it should have been expected that he was going to go through her fridge without asking first. And if it wasn't, then tough. She shouldn't be hiding.
Rolling off the couch, the man took a moment out to stretch some, grimacing a bit as he found his shoulders to be tight as well. The things he went through for a good fuck… Or, well, one involving Stephanie, at least.
It was dark in the living room, the limited light that dusk had provided them during their excursion now dissipated and, not wishing to turn on any lights (which, he could admit, was odd; he was willing to steal her food, but not her electricity), made it extra hard to find his clothes. Or would have. Should have. He hardly looked.
Maybe it was a status thing. Or dominance. Something similar. Paul just really wanted to walk around completely nude in Steph's house. Like he owned the place. Like he belonged there.
Because he did belong there.
At least to some extent.
Before he'd made the drive in, Stephanie had promised that she had some stuff at the house for him to eat, for dinner and breakfast in the morning, so they wouldn't have to leave for either. Knowing her schedule mimicked his own, he doubted there would be anything better than some lunch meat or some eggs. And there really wasn't, but there were some takeout boxes in there (the perks of having a chick who couldn't cook for herself) and, after glancing through some of them, he decided upon her half eaten steak and baked potato.
He had a perplexity, if only momentarily, as he stood in the dark kitchen with only the light from the microwave to think by. Should he eat after Stephanie? Wasn't that kinda gross? Were they to that level?
Then he remembered just where his mouth had been, on her, on certain other occasions and, well, what could spit hurt?
So he went ahead and grabbed her half drunk water bottle out of the fridge on his way back out of the kitchen.
He'd yet to truly explore, as the kitchen was visible fro the living room and he'd only gone back and forth from those two places, butt he paused then, to look down a hallway, and saw a light further on down it. But only from beneath a closed door.
A bit annoyed now as Steph, clearly, had deserted him, he refused to go seek her out like some little lost puppy.
Instead, he went to eat his leftover steak in the buff on her couch.
That would show her.
As he was relaxing into the couch though, cutting into his steak, it suddenly didn't make him feel as good as he thought it would. Sticking it to Vince. Really sticking it to Vince. That there he was, in the house of the man's daughter, casually hanging around, probably sitting on a couch that Vince himself had sat on. Having fucked on said couch. Excuse him, been fucked on said couch.
Which sounded even more dominate and showing of status than just hanging around nude did. Until he considered that Linda had been there too. Sat on that couch. Would again. And Shane. His wife. Hell, probably Steph's whole family. Her friends.
Then it got real gross, real fast.
Instead of just slipping on his jeans though, he only stood (it was too dark to eat in there anyways) and decided to explore a bit and find somewhere else to eat that didn't make him think about Steph's family.
Stephanie's place wasn't as big as his. But it was still nice. No pool though. Which was a bummer. Less places to fuck her.
That was probably what he was really doing, he decided quite early on. Being totally pervy and nasty and gross by walking around, considering just what was a good place for such things and what wasn't. And letting his steak get cold on top of that.
Err, well, Steph's steak, but she kinda forwent having claims to it when she invited over her asshole of a not really boyfriend and kinda just a side fuck. Actually, he really had no claims to the house or picking out spots to fuck her in either, when he put it that way, because he and Steph could get along as well as they wanted; they both still had other, more serious things going on (even if they wouldn't admit it aloud to one another) and he might not even ever get a chance to come back.
Which made him think about the dick of a guy that did get to come back, but he wasn't really a dick, he just got to be with Steph and that made Paul mad, but that was stupid because it was his own entanglements that kept him from doing the same and then he felt depressive and a bit silly, standing there naked in the house of a woman that could not only get him fired, but also wasn't even really with him and he wasn't even really with her, and they could say it was real, as many times as they wanted, when they were alone, but you could only wish reality away for so long.
For the night was the plan that evening, but it was already creeping its filthy way back into his brain and man, he was a chump.
Especially as, having taken a seat, still nude, on the end of the guest bed, using the light of the brightening moon outside to see by so that he could take a bite of the steak, a very sickening realization coursed through him all at once, mid-chew.
What if…
What if it wasn't Stephanie's steak? But some other guy's?
Because his mouth had been a lot of places, but it certainly hadn't been there.
Except by proxy….
Gagging the entire way, he decided it was finally time to find Stephanie.
The light was coming from beneath her bedroom door, but wasn't from the room itself. Rather, it was from the connected bathroom, of which she was in, showering, with the door open.
He was supposed to follow her!
Damn it.
But it was too late then, he was sure, as the water was no doubt getting cold, his lack of a follow probably lead her to believe he didn't want to, and, most importantly,, now he was feeling all chickish and was concerned about just who was in that shower last.
Luckily, he did not feel the same way about her nice sheets which, after setting the takeout box on her nightstand, he went to dive head first into.
Head buried in a pillow (which smelled like Steph and therefore he refused to believe another guy had ever touched), he could hear when the shower cutoff as well as the stall door open. Could smell the fragrance of some sorta body wash or shampoo when he lifted his head (though dropping it back in the pillow brought about the same scent). Heard Steph's intake of breath as she no doubt saw him out there.
He wondered if she thought he'd left.
Probably. Steph, for all the positively she could rain down on a person, was actually very pessimistic internally. Or at least self-deprecating. Of all the women he'd been with (and boy, Paul had had his fair share) she was by far the most insecure. It was kinda eye opening, really, how un-put together Stephanie was, on the inside.
He was always saw super hot women as having it all together. It was usually the one step down from super hot, but still hot and yet a load of baggage attached women that had all the problems. That had all the shit they had to work through.
Steph though had money. Lots of it. And had for a long time. And she was attractive. Extremely. In a lot of ways. She could be strikingly beautiful, when she wanted to, but all it would take it one silly comment and she'd look like a little kid, the way her cheeks reddened and she'd duck her head and giggle, like a little girl, and that was cute. Steph was so cute. Then there was the fact she was educated. Far more than him. She was well-spoken. It wasn't necessarily something he looked for, in a woman, but it was certainly something that would give the air of confidence, he felt. Self-security.
But when he would talk to Steph, really talk to Steph because that was a very big part of their relationship (or whatever it was) too, he'd hear it. When she'd share her feelings with him. She seemed to hold a lot in. Or else, felt very comfortable with him.
She told him about how she never really felt...good, a lot of the times. With the way that she looked. And stupid comments about how she shouldn't feel that way didn't help. And that she thought everyone at work secretly hated her and thought that she was annoying and stupid and that was a lot like how it was when she was in school, because her father was Vince McMahon and wasn't that weird?
Was her dad weird?
Steph felt like her whole life was weird.
She felt like she was weird.
And obnoxious.
She always felt obnoxious. And lonely. She always needed attention. Confirmation. That she still mattered. He noticed it a lot, not just with himself, but if he were hanging around with her backstage. It was almost like that kid in high school that was constantly being ditched by the people they thought they were their friends, so it only makes them cling harder, for fear of being left out. Or ignored.
It was weird. Just like she thought. But for the wrong reason.
Paul didn't see people as disliking Stephanie. Or at least he never made a note of it. Well, they might not like her, if it came out that the two of them were fucking around, but then, what could the locker room do? Being Vince's daughter kinda put a hamper on shunning her too strongly.
They had just finished with one another, one night, in a hotel room that Steph was staying in, and he was planning on making his late night exit when, softly, she admitted to him that she felt this with him too. As if he were stuck, with her, because of Vince, and that he didn't really care about her either, and did he really? Regardless? Weren't they just sleeping together? And was she annoying to him? She felt like she annoyed him.
When he tried to explain himself though, Steph had only cited the drinks she'd had earlier at the restaurant they'd snuck off to as the reason for her words and that she was drunk and he should just go; he didn't have to explain himself.
He'd have liked to stay. Would have liked to think back on the memory as staying. But he didn't, of course, because he truly had to get away. So he left, feeling like a dick for making someone that he considered, honestly, as becoming one of his very close friends as if they were worthless to him, or just something to use. But when he tried to bring it back up to her, Steph pretended to have no idea what he was talking about and distracted him with something else and, well, what could he do?
Huh?
He heard Steph's footsteps then, soft on the hardwood floor as, following toweling off and whatever else she'd done in the bathroom, she came into the bedroom, coming to a stop at the end of the bed.
"Comfortable?"
"Mmmm."
"And I bought yu sandwich stuff." She was getting into the bed as well then. "Why did you eat my steak? I was saving that."
Good.
It was hers.
"You can have the potato."
"It's mine; you can't tell me what parts of it I can and can't have."
"Wanna bet?"
And he lifted up some, watching as she reached over him to grab the takeout box, being careful not to drop the silverware balancing on top.
"You're not gonna get on me?" he asked as he rolled onto his back. "For being bad?"
"Excuse me?"
"Going through your shit."
"You went through my stuff?"
"I had to find silverware. I went through your kitchen drawers."
"Mmmm." Stephanie was sitting up, dressed in a sheer nightgown, back up against the headboard. As she flipped open the takeout back though, she made a face. "Why did you… Paul, did you spit in here?"
Pretending to be shocked, he craned his neck to see. Then, shaking his head at her, he said, "I think you have a ghost."
"Paul-"
"I'd just started eating when it occurred to me that it might not be yours."
"So you're okay with putting random things in your mouth-"
"Delicious red meat."
"-but only if they've previously been in my mouth?"
"Absolutely."
"Okay, well, I'm not." She handed him the box back. "You can have that now."
He stared hard over at her for a moment before saying, "Just so you know, Stephie, you turning down my chewed up piece of meat is beyond turning me on right now."
And Steph tried to keep a straight face, but she could and slipped down on the bed so that she could hide her face in his side, her whisper tickling his flesh as she said, "I'm so glad you're here."
She seemed to have said it on accident as, while it was coming out of her mouth, an arm had been moving to wrap around his waist, she pulled it back then, as if unsure of herself.
Paul only moved to set the box back on the nightstand though before shifting to get up and tug her out of bed.
"Yeah, well," he said as he tugged her along, "come show me how thankful you are."
Steph stumbled a bit out of bed, but still managed to get out, "Um...I thought I did?"
Grinning over his shoulder at her, he said, "Not even close, babe. But for right now, I'll settle for a sandwich."
"I'm not making you a sandwich."
"We'll see."
They would. See her not do it, that is. Paul made her a sandwich as an apology for what he did to her takeout then fried himself an egg to go with his steak.
Because sure, he was an asshole; it was part of his persona. But his mother and father also raised him very well and sometimes it shone through.
It helped that he liked Steph a lot.
And that she sat in his lap while they ate.
Only after he put on some jeans though.
Unfortunately.
They still sat there though, the two of them did, together, after they finished eating. Paul wrapped his arms around her and Steph leaned back against him, both enjoying the silence for awhile. And one another, of course.
Just being, really. It was hard for them to find time to just be. Not do anything. Just hang around one another.
Paul wasn't lying when he said that just being near Steph was calming to him.
She was one of his friends. And he hoped that she could stay that way.
"I'm happy to be here, Steph," he assured her before they got up. "You have no idea."
Paul was a bit tired, but he stayed up with Steph in the living room, where she flipped through channels and chatted randomly and he kinda just sat there, arm over her shoulder, nodding and grunting when appropriate.
It felt so couplish. In away that neither's real relationship had in a long time.
When they finally went to bed Steph let Paul flip through her CDs and play some music.
"You got this cool clock, CD player thing, how could I not use it? Does it have an alarm too?"
"I mean, it's sitting on my nightstand, so you decide, Paul."
"You sure get crabby when you're tired."
"Or when you ask stupid questions."
But when he made a face over at her, she was grinning at him in the darkness. Paul only dropped his pants before crawling under the covers as well.
He woke up though, around three in the morning, confused just long enough to feel Steph's side brush his and remind him of exactly where he was.
Exactly where he wanted to be.
Grinning down at Steph, who'd just turned in he rest on her stomach, Paul sleepily moved to nuzzle his forehead against his until she too woke, just barely, but enough to languidly give into him and, man, it would suck going home in the morning.
Steph was the one that woke up first though, truly, in the morning. She got him up too by gently stroking at the back off his head, toying with his hair. When he only grunted and didn't move, he heard Stephanie giggle before getting out of bed and leaving him there, alone.
Again.
It took her so long again, to come back, as she'd not gone into the bathroom, but rather left the room entirely, that he knew, once more, he was meant to follow. Still, it wasn't until the smell of bacon wafted into the room that he finally did so.
"You making me breakfast, baby? 'cause damn, I might just have to move in, were this a regular thing."
"You can't and it isn't."
"Damn."
They were both laughing and grinning too, as he came to stand behind her, leaning down to rub his nose in her hair, muttering something under his breath that was enough to get a blush out of the woman.
Of course, things never stayed perfect with them.
"Steph, do you smell that? It's burning."
And it was usually his fault.
"Paul-"
"How do you burn toast?"
"Some people like it that way."
"I'm not some people."
"You-"
"And are you even looking at these eggs in this pan over here? Why are the yokes all broken? And they're browning on the bottom. Did you even slick the pans first?"
"They're just getting crispy."
"Steph, no one eats crispy eggs."
"You're being rude."
"I'm helping." And he moved from behind her then, to stand beside the woman and hip bump her out of the way. "Go sit down. I'll make breakfast."
"No," she complained. "I can do it. I-"
"Go sit down."
She seemed rather annoyed (whether it was at him or herself, Paul wasn't sure), but did take a seat, grumbling a bit under her breath until, while cooking, Paul changed the subject.
"You made bacon though, Stephie," he congratulated when they finally did get to eat. "Just the way I like it."
"Shut up."
"It's progress, baby." And he gave her an uncharacteristic wide, real grin from across the table. "If at first you don't succeed-"
"I tried to try again. You wouldn't let me."
"We'll save it for next time." Then, reaching for his coffee mug, he paused before whispering, "You know, when I'm here again."
Stephanie caught his eyes though as she agreeing, "When you're here again."
An hour later had them saying goodbye out by his car, embracing as Paul considered the fastest route home and Steph tried to think about nothing, because she felt childishly upset at what obviously had to happen. Even if they weren't dating in secret, he still had to go home eventually.
So why did it sting so much now that he was?
"I'll call you tonight."
"You don't have to."
"I want to."
"Just if you're not busy."
And one of the arms he had wrapped around her moved then, so that he could push back some and tap at her chin. When she lifted her head, he only grinned.
"You know that for you," he whispered before leaning down to brush his lips against hers one last time before taking off, "I never will be."
Alright, so I've formed a good sized list here of requests, so I'll list them all here so yall don't just all start asking for duplicates or think I've ignored them, alright? In no particular order (because I seriously just pick one to write when I'm in the mood):
Steph in labor with all three kids
Steph and Paul on vacation
Their wedding/the night before it
Shane leaving (which I don't really know a lot about, really, how that all came about, so I dunno what I'll do for it)
A game night when the family, I think it was Steph and Paul and their kids
That interview earlier this year where Steph talked about having a 'match' with her kid
Vince catching them (I assume doing something nasty)
Their first house that they buy/build together, the first night in it
A drunken night/the next morning (I've always read that Trips don't drink much, but it was requested)
Reconnecting later down the line instead of getting back together after Vince forbade their dating
Their honeymoon (which I already did, but it was requested again, but if the person who requested it never saw, the first time I did it was Drunk in Love, but I can do something else if you'd like)
Steph being self-conscious about being pregnant during DX's second run (or just in general, I figure, but you mentioned Trips documentary, which I haven't watched, but I assume it's pretty standard pregnancy woes)
Someone asked for Paul teaching his kids to drive, but I really don't wanna do anything with the kids that old (I dunno, feels weird to me), but I'll use the word drive for a prompt instead, okay?
Some Hunter/Steph stuff
Just some general fics about them and their relationship before they had kids.
Okay, so I'm pretty sure that's everything, but it very well could not be, as at first, I was like, 'Yeah, requests, whatever, I never get those, just ask for them,', but then you guys actually did and I hadn't written them down and they were scattered over all these different stories and reviews, and I kinda lost track of them. So if you've already asked and you don't see what you want here, just send it to me and I'll add it to the list (that I know have written down) to get around to.
I feel like there now kinda needs to be a list of things I won't do. It's really short. I won't write smut (you guys can keep asking, but I'm just not into writing that sorta stuff; I'm a dialogue writer, not a detail one, really, so it just wouldn't flow, guys, alright?). I'm just not going to. I also randomly get requests for things covering Chyna. I'll never write anything about her because, I dunno, that's such a sad thing, her life in general, and I'm not going to touch on it. There's a reason she's never been featured in a story; it would feel extremely disrespectful to me. My stories are just silly little stupid things that are ultimately meaningless; I'd feel extremely disrespectful and wrong if I ever used her in a story. It's not happening. I'm sorry. That goes for anyone, honestly, that's passed on (though I can't think of another person that anyone would ask for, but just feel like that should be put out there) or any subject that would be extremely personal. Which is also I don't want to do the children when they're older.
Other than those guys, ask away. I'll see what I can do. And if there's some reason I'm unable to do something you're asking for, I'll just tell you and you can ask for something else. I'll always try my best. And, since I've already written this long thing anyways, I might as well add that guys, you don't gotta review shit. Or review and tell me you're sorry for not review or whatever; I seriously write more for myself than others. If I ever stopped enjoying Steph and Paul, I'd just stop posting and move on. You can review if you like, but don't feel obligated. I've written for far more dead fandoms. Truth be told, I mostly like reading my own shit over more than I assume anyone else does. Posting it is just for the other random people who might like it.
But anyways, if I left anyone's request off or if you want to make one, just leave it in a review or a PM and I will certainly add it to the list. Thanks, guys.