Title: Control
Summary: Shawn doesn't like John being in control all the time..
Characters: Shawn Michaels, John Cena
Genre: Slash. For those of you who still have no idea what slash actually is, here's a little definition for you: Slash is a genre of fanfiction featuring romance between two characters of the same gender. So if you don't like the idea of reading a fanfic involving that, then I would recommend you leave this page pretty quickly.
Pairings: Shawn/John
Rating: Like, PG.
Warnings: None. This is, like, the fluffiest thing ever.
Parts: 1/1 (Standalone)
Author Note: Just in case any of you were wondering, I wrote this a little while back. This was way before Wrestlemania 23, even a bit before No Way Out... back when John and Shawn had not long become the World Tag Team champions.
Dedications: To my friend Penny, who insisted I post this up on here. If she hadn't insisted, I probably would have never had the courage to post it at all.

Shawn stood in the middle of the ring, in the now empty arena, watching as John made his way up the ramp, heading backstage. He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't help but stare. John was gorgeous. The way his black t-shirt clung to his obviously sweaty back. His strong muscly legs, only visible from the knee down in the baggy ¾ length shorts he was wearing. The way he lazily raised up his arm to run his hand slowly over his head, his short, soft, light brown hair.

Shawn swallowed hard, desperate to say something... knowing that he never could.

John finally disappeared out of sight, and in a split second Shawn climbed out from the ring, ran up the ramp after his tag team partner. He was racking his brains as he ran, wondering what he was going to say. Wondering if maybe it was time to get the truth out in the open. He was thinking so much… that he wasn't thinking. As he went to turn and run through the door and down the corridor, he bumped into somebody, tumbling backwards and landing on the floor with a 'bump'.

"Where's the fire at?"

Shawn looked up, recognising that voice. And he was right. John was stood over him, a huge grin on his face.

"Um… um…" was all Shawn could manage to stutter out, before John reached out and grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet. They both exchanged glances; John was still grinning, but Shawn had just a blank expression on his face. He hadn't meant to look that way; he just felt slightly startled, and embarrassed that he'd just fallen on his ass - literally - in front of, and while chasing, his friend, his tag team partner, and the man he realised he may suddenly have a crush on.

"Were you waiting for me, or something?" Shawn asked curiously.

John's grin didn't seem to fade one bit. "Maybe," he replied. He playfully hit Shawn on the shoulder, and then turned around, starting to walk off. Shawn walked by John's side, following him, not wanting to miss an opportunity to talk to him. The only problem is, Shawn didn't know what he was going to say.

They made their way down the corridor, not speaking a word except for when they waved and said "Bye, see ya next week" to various Divas that passed them on the way down.

"So… um… this is one hell of a match we got coming up," Shawn eventually spoke, realising he sounded like a complete and utter prat. But he couldn't help it. Although John was almost ten years younger than him, he seemed to have some sort of uncontrollable power over Shawn. One look into those big sparkling blue eyes and Shawn suddenly lost all control of himself and his senses… he felt like he was back in high school again.

"Damn right," John said, "But we're gonna do good, you know. I mean, come on! Look at us! The WWE champ John Cena, the Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels." John stopped in his tracks, and turned to look at Shawn. "We're an unstoppable force!" He smiled, and Shawn smiled back shyly. "But all jokes aside, I'm sorry you didn't win at the Royal Rumble. You deserved that title shot more than the Dead Man."

"I'm still getting my title shot," Shawn told him, suddenly sounding serious.

John's eyes widened and he smirked, opening his mouth to say something but then deciding against any words.

"We've got our match at No Way Out, and we've got our tag team belts…" Shawn moved a step closer to John, the two of them now so close their bodies were pressed tightly up against each other, "…But at Wrestlemania… you better watch your back."

John and Shawn, both now with serious looks on their faces, locked eyes and stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. And then Shawn stepped back, turned and then walked off down the corridor, leaving John stood there, stunned and confused at Shawn's words.

For a second, Shawn wondered whether he should look back. He wanted to. But he decided against it. As he went over his choice of words again, a huge smile formed on his face. It was okay. He was in control.

For now, at least.