Title: The Beast and the Harlot
Characters: The Undertaker, Shawn Michaels; featuring Triple H and the Ministry of Darkness/Corporate Ministry
Disclaimer: Originally rated T for language and suggestive themes, but bumped to M because 'TakerMuse has a dirty mind. Also, sorta kayfabed.
Summary: Takes place in 1999, when Shawn Michaels was the Commish and the Undertaker was a Lord of Darkness. Although the two would have a much-entangled future together, for the present, their paths barely ever cross. And when they do, there's always something between them that they simply can't explain.
"Fuck you!"
"Fuck you!"
` The Lord of Darkness was walking down the long hallway of the hotel to his private room—a rare night after RAW where they couldn't leave the city until the morning—when he heard the raised voices through one of the closed doors.
Almost immediately, he recognized them.
Hunter and Shawn.
Shaking his head, the Undertaker continued walking, not really caring about the lover's spat happening within. Although he and Triple H were technically fighting on the same side these days, it was obvious to everyone that Hunter had his own goals.
He was fast turning into the type of man who would take out anyone who stood in his way—including friends and members of his own faction.
More than anything, however, what confused and concerned the Deadman about Hunter was his complete inability to get over the Heartbreak Kid Shawn Michaels.
Though ruthless in the ring, Hunter was pining away for Michaels every day of his life; and if one had the misfortune of catching Triple H in a vulnerable moment, it became very clear that the man was in pain every moment that Shawn wasn't by his side, or he at Shawn's.
And yet they fought like bitter enemies every time they were together, too.
Once again, the Undertaker shook his head. He had just passed the door, and he could still hear their voices. For a moment, he reflected on the fact that he had given up most of his humanity to become what he now was; and it was times like these when he was most certain that he had made the right choice.
Love was a liability.
As if on cue, the door flew open, and Shawn came stumbling out, as though pushed. He turned around in a fury, the door slamming shut and locking before he could rush back in and beat the hell out of his most beloved friend.
Through his blurred vision, he could see a tall, dark figure walking slowly down the hallway, not three steps away from him.
"Carrot Top?"
It was so ridiculous, that the Lord of Darkness himself actually stopped and turned around, green eyes wide with shock. In fact, he was too surprised to even be angry or offended.
"Shawn Michaels, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
A quick glance gave him his answer. Shawn was completely wasted—which was most likely the reason Hunter had so forcefully kicked him out. The Heartbreak Kid was so unsteady on his feet that even the single step that he took towards the Undertaker caused him to stumble.
Before he could even think, the Undertaker reached out, and caught the smaller man in his strong arms. Shawn's weight was nearly nothing to him, and though the man reeked of booze, a sweet scent lingered in his golden hair.
"Thanks, Red," Shawn slurred, completely unable to pick himself up, though not for lack of trying.
The Dark Lord tried to set the Commissioner back on his feet, but the man was simply too inebriated to stand without aid. For a split second, 'Taker considered leaving Shawn in the hallway, where Hunter would no doubt find him, and let him back in.
But as he looked into those fastly-closing blue eyes, the Undertaker found himself unable to do it. He simply couldn't leave Shawn lying in a hallway, especially not in the state he was in. A long-forgotten feeling was tugging at his heart, and now the Phenom really did question himself.
"Hunter, that piece of shit," Shawn was mumbling, apparently unable to forget his anger even as he neared unconsciousness. "He's changed so much over the last year...I'm so damn proud of him..."
Ever so slowly, HBK's eyes opened again, and for a moment, they fixed on the Undertaker with startling clarity.
"You've changed a lot too, 'Taker. What the hell happened to you?"
The Undertaker was somewhat unprepared for the question. "A lot," he answered, voice low. Somehow, this conversation reminded him of days long past—a place he didn't visit much in his mind. Talking to Shawn here, in the hallway, their bodies so close, made him feel less like the dark master he had become, and more like the lost soul he had once been.
He didn't like it.
"Michaels, get up and go back to your room. I'm not going to stand here holding your sorry ass all night."
Shawn blinked, apparently not registering the Deadman's words at all.
"Your eyes have changed so much...You've gotten a hell of a lot sexier, too. Good job."
Although he hated to admit it, the Undertaker felt a small thrill run up his spine at Shawn's words. He wanted to threaten the man, and reclaim some of his dignity back, but Shawn had already fallen fully into his drunken stupor, and was breathing softly, head resting against the Deadman's tattooed arm.
With a world-weary sigh, the Undertaker picked Shawn Michaels up bridal style, the Heartbreak Kid's long hair hanging in front of his bowed head. His entire body was limp and heavy; but 'Taker was stronger than he'd ever been, to say nothing of the powers and resiliency afforded to him by his pact with the Darkness.
But looking at Shawn's quietly sleeping form, he couldn't help but wonder...Had he made a mistake, trading in his heart for power after all?
"Found a pretty woman for tonight, I see!"
The Undertaker spun on his heel, slightly startled by the voice behind him. It was Paul Bearer, of course, dark eyes glittering with bad intentions.
'Always showing up when I don't want him,' 'Taker thought sourly. After an awkward moment, he realized that Paul was staring at the man in his arms.
"Not a woman...Is that...Commissioner Michaels!? Did...did you drug him?" Bearer asked, eyes wide with wonder.
"Are you going to use him as a hostage? Wait, that's brilliant! You know, McMahon loves him...and that damn Triple H does too! Ohhhh yes!"
The Undertaker shook his head, barely able to maintain his stoic scowl.
"I'm not going to use this man as bait," he explained, realizing that he was going to have to concoct a quick lie in order to save face. Even worse, he could see the rest of the Ministry coming down the hallway, most likely to check on him since he hadn't yet made it into his room.
"He's not a hostage," the Lord of Darkness explained loudly. "I'm just taking him to my room tonight."
Understanding slowly dawned on Paul's face, and a wicked smile broke out on his lips. He gave the Undertaker a few pats on the back.
"Don't be too rough on him, he looks breakable."
The Undertaker forced himself to smile in return.
"Oh, but I plan on breaking him."
With a nod to Bearer and the rest of the Ministry, 'Taker continued his trek down the hallway, this time with Shawn's sleeping form in his arms. He almost instantly regretted the decision to pretend that he was going to sleep with the Heartbreak Kid, but knew that there was no going back now.
After all, what would the members of his Ministry think if they found out that their master was hopelessly in love with Shawn Michaels?
Paul Bearer watched his long-time protege as he walked away, and shook his head.
"He really managed to get his hands on Shawn Michaels?" Bradshaw asked a bit too eagerly, earning a disapproving look from Farooq.
Bearer nodded solemnly. "Yeah...I hope he doesn't do anything that'll cost us our chance at taking over the Federation..."
"I'm sure he's just going to have some fun," Gangrel chimed in, licking his blood red lips; and every time they parted, his long, white teeth flashed. "It's almost poetic—the Beast and the Harlot together for a night, you know?"
As the other members of the Ministry of Darkness laughed, only Bearer was silent. He was still looking at the Undertaker's quickly retreating form.
"Yes...but I wonder which one of them is which," he mused quietly, wondering why the Deadman still even bothered to lie to him after all these years.
"Goddamn, you're heavier than you look."
The Undertaker let Shawn Michaels fall unceremoniously to the bed when he finally reached his room, taking a moment to catch his breath.
He still wasn't entirely sure what he was doing. Did he truly want to fuck the Heartbreak Kid? Was that something he really desired? Or was something deeper, and far more terrifying, motivating his actions?
Shaking away those dangerous thoughts, 'Taker slowly began to undress Michaels, removing his boots first, then his too-tight jeans, and finally his button-down shirt. Retrieving a large white towel from the bathroom, he covered Boy Toy from the waist down, and removed his boxers, making sure to turn on the hot water as well.
"You smell like hard liquor and cigarettes," the Deadman explained to Shawn, who was still quite asleep. "And a nice hot bath is good for sobering up."
With a grunt, he slipped an arm under Shawn's shoulders and carried him into the bathroom. The entire room had warmed up nicely from the heat of the water, and a light mist of steam gave everything a soft, dreamlike quality.
"I don't know why I'm playing nursemaid to you," he complained as he set the smaller man gently into the hot water. "I'm the Lord of Fucking Darkness. I should have left you lying outside of Hunter's door and not cared at all..."
Although Shawn was just now beginning to stir, the Undertaker found his mind wandering as he looked down at the nude, golden-haired man in his tub, half-submerged in the steamy water.
He had fallen asleep on the bed, waiting for Shawn to finish washing up and get out of the bathroom. Although he had planned on staying awake so that he could give the smaller man a piece of his mind, he had underestimated his own tiredness and had drifted off to sleep in minutes.
However, his nap was interrupted by the feeling of hands gently caressing his long hair, then slowly unbuttoning his shirt.
"What the hell?!"
He sat up, green eyes wide with shock. It was Shawn Michaels, smiling at him, all the mischief in the world written on his face.
"Thank you for taking such good care of me," the Heartbreak Kid rumbled, climbing on top of the Deadman's prone form and straddling his waist.
"I wanted to thank you..."
Blinking rapidly, the Undertaker snapped out of the random fantasy. He was still in the bathroom, still looking down at Shawn, who was finally beginning to wake up.
"Damn it," 'Taker growled, shaking himself. This is not how he planned on spending his night!
With a huff, he set the towel on the rack, reasoning that Shawn was awake enough to not drown, and went back into the bedroom.
'What's wrong with me?' he wondered, sitting on one of the armchairs. 'I need to get it together. I need to figure out what to say to Shawn when he asks me why the hell I brought him to my room...'
He went into the bathroom to check on Michaels, but found the tub empty, and everything else completely cleaned.
'I guess he left,' he reasoned, removing his own clothes and turning the hot water on once more, this time for his own shower.
The moment he was naked, however, he noticed the reflection of a person in the mirror, and turned to find himself staring into the wide, blue eyes of Shawn Michaels.
"What the hell?!" he yelled, covering himself as best he could with his hands.
"Beautiful," Shawn whispered, approaching with slow, measured steps. "This might be the only time I have with you, 'Taker...I want you."
Shawn's lips met his, and it took his breath away.
"Michaels..."
For some reason, the Heartbreak Kid seemed stronger than even him, and the Undertaker found his hands pinned behind him, wrists crossed at the small of his back. His chest and Shawn's were pressed so closely together than he swore he could feel the other man's heartbeat, could see the wicked glint in those blue eyes.
"You're not a virgin, are you?"
With a shock, the Undertaker woke up, sitting bolt-upright in the comfortable chair.
He realized that he had fallen asleep; and he didn't know for how long, because Shawn was lying comfortably on the bed, bundled tightly under the comforter, a contented smile on his face. On the nightstand was a sandwich plate with nothing but crumbs, and a tall glass of water, mostly empty.
Blushing, the Deadman walked silently over to the bed, looking down at Shawn with a mixture of confusion and amazement. Had the man just hopped out of the tub and into bed without asking a single question? Was it that he simply trusted the Lord of Darkness, or was still too off-balance to care?
Either way, he was asleep once again, as evidenced by his steady, soft breathing.
For several moments longer, the Undertaker looked at Shawn, truly looked at him. If he could be honest with himself, he knew well the feeling that tugged at his heart whenever he saw this man. He knew exactly what the emotion was that clouded his mind when the Showstopper was near, when he spoke to him, when they looked at one another.
He couldn't say it, but it was obvious what it was.
For a moment, the soft breathing stopped. Shawn Michaels slowly opened one eye, and looked up at the dark man standing over him.
"Deadman, why are you taking such good care of me?"
As before, the Undertaker wasn't quite ready for the question, so he was forced to answer honestly, or answer not at all.
"Because you won't take care of yourself," he explained, kneeling down by the bed so that he and Shawn's faces were not so far away. In those blue eyes, he could see a world of sadness and pain.
"It's not like it matters what happens to me, not like it's any of your concern either. Take care of myself? Bullshit. Why should I?"
'Taker felt his heart constrict in his chest.
"Because I love you, dammit. That's why."
'Consequences be damned,' the Undertaker decided in his heart. 'I want him to know that much, at least.'
Unexpectedly, Shawn didn't look away, or shrink back. He simply smiled, and let his right hand brush a few strands of the Undertaker's long black hair.
"I know, Mark. I love you, too."
The Lord of Darkness was no more ready for those words than he was for the soft kiss that followed.
And this time, it was no errant daydream as Shawn's lips pressed against his own in a chaste, sweet kiss that nonetheless left his mind—and his long-dead heart—spinning.
"Shawn..."
A hard knock at the door interrupted the moment, and they both pulled back with a sigh.
"Dammit," 'Taker muttered, standing up slowly. As he opened the door, he considered all of the ways he was going to kill whoever it was—
And, of course, Hunter Hearst Helmsley burst in, brown eyes wide with worry.
"Is Shawn here?!" he asked angrily, even going so far as to grab the Undertaker—who towered over him—by the lapels of his shirt. "What have you done with him?!"
The Undertaker bit back his momentary rage and smiled down coldly at the frantic blond. "First of all, get your damn hands off me." He gripped Hunter's wrists and pulled him away to accentuate his point.
"And secondly, I didn't do anything to your precious Shawn. He's right over there on the bed."
Triple H glared at him, nostrils flaring as he inhaled and exhaled sharply. 'Taker could see that the anger in Hunter's eyes was tempered by pure fear; and seeing it made him feel more like himself than he had since Shawn stumbled into his arms.
Hunter was already over by the bed, kneeling by the Heartbreak Kid, similarly to how the Undertaker had just been just moments before.
"Shawn...I'm so sorry...But you were so drunk..."
The Commissioner shook his head, and sat up. He placed a light kiss on Hunter's forehead, taking the younger man's hand into his own.
"I should be the one apologizing to you...I keep thinking that you're the same kid I met so long ago, but you're not. You've grown a lot since I've been away. Even though it hurts a little, I'm proud of you, man."
Triple H couldn't stop a bright smile from claiming his face, and with a laugh he pressed his forehead against Shawn's.
"Will you come back with me tonight?" he asked carefully. "I shouldn't have kicked you out."
Out of the corner of his eye, the Undertaker glanced at Shawn. He had been listening to the entire conversation, of course; and though he hated to admit it to himself, the fact that Hunter could barge in and reclaim Shawn so easily made his soul ache.
To his surprise, however, Shawn's eyes were on him, had been on him for a while now, an unreadable look flickering in their blue depths.
After only a moment of thought, the Undertaker smiled sadly at the golden-haired man, expression quickly morphing into a sneer a second later.
"If you could get his ass out of my bed, I would appreciate it," 'Taker remarked, gesturing towards the open door.
Now both Hunter and Shawn were scowling at him, their eyes narrowed dangerously. The Heartbreak Kid stood up slowly, with Triple H's assistance, wrapping a towel around his waist. The pair made their way out into the hall, with only the briefest of glances passing between Shawn and 'Taker.
Once they were gone, and the door once again shut, the Undertaker sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. Already, he could feel the darkness creeping back into his thoughts, and the coldness wrapping once more around his heart.
Tomorrow was going to be a big day, after all; he and the Ministry had to plan how they were going to systematically destroy everyone in their way, while also regaining power back from Vince and Shane.
'I don't have time for all this,' he told himself, attempting to banish the image of Shawn from his mind and failing miserably.
More annoyed than anything else, 'Taker stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, climbing under the sheets. He hated the fact that he had just wasted at least a precious hour of his life dealing with Shawn. In fact, if he really thought about it, Shawn was like a specter in his life that refused to be exercised.
'Or, just a pain in the ass that won't go away,' he thought, laughing silently. 'Shawn Michaels...'
He lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes, willing himself to fall asleep. There was much to do over the next few days, and he needed all of his faculties firing on all cylinders.
It was only when he was completely comfortable that the Undertaker realized something that made him pull his own hair in frustration.
The pillow smelled like Shawn Michaels.
Poor 'Taker! Don't worry, Love, it works out in the end! :P
Review?