Author's Note: Please review if you like this. I promised I'd write a fic where Bret doesn't cry and nobody says "I love you" but I managed to fail on both counts. Oh well, enjoy anyway! This takes place the night that Bret forgives Shawn on Raw, so if you haven't seen that I suggest you look for it on YouTube as this fic hinges on that.

Bret slumped down on his hotel room bed. He'd seen Shawn for the first time in twelve years tonight. He'd stepped into that ring with a heart of ice and somehow, even after all the hatred he had felt in the last twelve years, Shawn had melted through his shields and reached him somehow.

I never thought this would happen, Bret thought. I thought I would sooner watch him burn then ever let myself feel anything for him again. He betrayed me, he hurt me, over and over. Yet, when he held me, that heat...

There was a knock on the door. Bret wanted to tell whoever it was to go away, but he knew it might be Shawn, and he couldn't turn him away, not tonight.

He opened the door reluctantly, and Shawn stood there, shifting uncomfortably.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

"Sure," Bret said, trying to pass himself off as calm and collected when his heart was racing in his chest as though it might burst.

There was an uncomfortable silence between them as Bret sat back down and Shawn simply stood, figuring out his next move. Finally, he leaned over Bret and kissed him. Bret drew away.

"You think you can just walk back into my life just because of what happened on Raw? You think twelve years of resentment just vanishes in a few hours?" Bret shook his head angrily.

"You still can't let go, can you?" Shawn said. "What do you want me to do, Bret? I can't change what happened. You think I didn't wish that I could, every day in the last twelve years? Why do you think I turned to faith? I needed forgiveness, Bret. It still wasn't enough, though. I needed to hear it from you. When you called for a truce tonight, I thought it was real. I thought you were finally letting me out of this prison."

"It was real," Bret said. "I want to let go. I just... can't. I've hung on to this hatred so long it's eaten everything in my life and become a part of me. I don't know how to forgive, Shawn. I'm scared to let this thing go."

Shawn nodded, as if he understood. "You have to let it out, somehow," he said. "You have to take revenge on the one who did this to you, to inflict some pain for all the pain you've been given. Hit me."

"What? I can't do that..."

"Yes you can," Shawn said. "Hit me. Put all your pain into it and give me your best shot. It's the only way we'll ever get past this."

"I could hurt you," Bret said, "Old or not, I can still pack a punch."

"Good," Shawn said. "Do it. Get it out of your system."

Bret stood up, suddenly sure that Shawn was right. Yet he still held back. I wanted to punch him for all these years, wanted to make him bleed, end his career, anything to get back at him. Why is it so hard now?

Shawn saw Bret holding back. "I don't regret it, Bret," he said, provoking him. "You screwed yourself back then. You thought you were too special to drop the belt to me."

Bret hit Shawn with all his might, knocking him to the floor. He stood for a second, stunned, before rushing to Shawn on the floor. Bret held him in his arms. Blood trickled down Shawn's face from a fresh cut in his forehead.

"Shawn, I'm sorry, shit, I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

Shawn managed a smile and put his hand up to Bret's face. Bret's eyes were filling with tears. Shawn pulled him down into a kiss and the tears fell onto his face. Bret didn't back away this time but instead let Shawn draw him into the kiss, tears mingling with blood.

They parted reluctantly. "Feel better now?" Shawn asked.

Bret nodded, so choked he couldn't speak. Shawn stood up and took Bret in his arms. "It's okay," he whispered. "Let it all out."

The tears didn't come. Instead, Bret backed Shawn up into the wall, kissing him furiously and pulling at his clothes. Shawn moaned at Bret's touch, hands roaming up his chest, hands he'd thought he would never feel again.

"Bret, stop," he said. It took all of his resolve to pull Bret's hands away when all he wanted to do was submit to their touch.

"You don't want to do this?" Bret asked.

"I have a wife and kids now," Shawn said. "I'm a born again Christian. I don't do this kind of thing any more."

"You kissed me first," Bret said.

"I wanted things to be right between us," Shawn said. And God, it's not like I don't care about you, or want you. I just... shouldn't."

"My girlfriend wants to get married," Bret said. "Probably this summer." He shook his head. "I know we shouldn't be here. I know people could get hurt, and that we should move on, but I want you one last time, Shawn. Just so I know we're all right."

Shawn closed his eyes, but he could still feel the pleading in Bret's. He took a deep breath. He could feel the pounding in his head and the blood drying on his face where Bret had hit him just moments before.

"All right," he said. "But this is the last time. After this, I go back to my family. You go back to yours and we never speak of this again."

Bret nodded his head in assent and Shawn leaned in to kiss him again. He let Bret put his hands back on him and moaned as Bret ground his hips into him. They pulled at each other's clothing, naked before each other once again in only moments. They were older now, but it didn't matter to either of them. There were new lines, new scars to explore and neither of them hesitated.

Shawn let Bret take charge. He could still feel a little of Bret's rage in the way he kissed and touched him, and knew the older man needed this. He let himself be pinned down to the bed as Bret prepared him. He sighed as the Bret's cool lubricated fingers entered him. They had always been like this, fire and ice, though now the roles had been reversed. Back then it had been Bret who had been cool, calm and collected while he burned with reckless desire. Now Bret burned with anger while Shawn had pulled his life together and settled down.

Bret entered him and Shawn gasped, feeling Bret inside him for the first time in over twelve years. Bret fucked him hard, the residual anger turning to passion as he kissed Shawn, enjoying the taste of the man he'd hated and missed at the same time.

Bret came before long, and he stroked Shawn's cock until he came as well, gasping a silent prayer. They separated and curled up together, gasping for air. Bret lay his head on Shawn's chest and listened to his heart beating.

"Shawn, I... there's something I wanted to tell you back then, only I didn't know what you would say..."

"What is it?" Shawn asked. "Tell me everything, Bret. We don't need to keep secrets any more."

"I love you," Bret said. "I was going to tell you that, but then things got so messed up, and then at Survivor Series... you broke me completely, and that love turned to rage."

Shawn closed his eyes. "I'm sorry, Bret. The person I was back then didn't appreciate that love, but I do now. I've spent twelve years trying to be a better man, but I know my changes came too late for us. If I could do it all over again..."

"Don't," Bret said. "We can't go back. We have to find a way to move forward in our lives."

"Friends?" Shawn asked, needing to define what they were now.

"Of course," Bret said, lazily tracing lines across Shawn's chest, leaning up to kiss him slowly, enjoying the feeling of his stubble against his face. He saved each feature in his mind, knowing this would be the last time they would be together like this. Shawn needs his family. I need mine. We can't risk all that, I know. But still... He stilled his thoughts, taking a deep breath. When he looked up, Shawn was asleep. He settled down close to him and let himself doze.

When Bret woke, Shawn was gone, as he knew he would be. Sunlight shone in the windows, promising a new day without the burdens he had carried for far too long. He stayed in bed a little longer, savoring Shawn's scent on the sheets before he got up. A note sat on the counter.

"See you around, Bret. Here's my number. Call me sometime. - Shawn."

Bret put the note in his pocket and looked out of the window. The phone rang, and he saw his girlfriend on the caller ID. Life was calling, and he knew had to let go of the past; the anger, the pain, and the love.

No, Bret thought, I'm keeping the love.