Title: Lucky Seven
Characters: Various! Includes Shawn Michaels, Triple H, the Undertaker, Kane, and other WWE and NXT Superstars!
Disclaimer: Most, if not all of these, will be slash. Rated M! It was T, but Shawn and 'Taker messed me up, LOL.
Summary: May your hundredth kiss be as sweet as your first. A series of 7 one shots revolving around wrestlers kissing each other.
A/N: This will probably sounds weird, but I have a few random, kiss-y one-shots in my head that won't go away. Not enough for a full story, but maybe enough for a one shot? Anyway, I MIGHT take a few requests, so feel free to make suggestions. If you make my Muses happy, I can maybe write a one-shot for the pairing! Just nota bene, I write slash best, haha...Anyway. Onto the story!
May, 1999: Burning Love
"I hate to admit it, but the Darkness suits you."
That's really all it took.
For his part, the Undertaker was partially proud of himself, but partially ashamed at how easily he had given in.
Since "going Dark," as some had called it, and becoming the Lord of Darkness, he had gained a new found sense of confidence, as well as a whole set of desires that had previously been so distant from him.
Above all things, the Undertaker wanted power, and he was willing to hurt anyone and everyone to get it. He was determined to take over the World Wrestling Federation, and after that...well, the world was his playground, wasn't it?
Second to that desire, however, was a deep, aching need for his body to be satisfied.
For the first several months, the Lord of Darkness was able to satiate himself with copious amounts of alcohol and inflicting pain on others. And the darker his soul became, the more it—and his body—wanted.
Paul Bearer had asked him what, exactly, was wrong, when he caught him brooding and pacing in his locker room after the match. Everyone else had already left, and the Undertaker was still struggling to come down from the high of successfully terrorizing the entire roster, including his smart ass little brother.
He felt so damn good; and he didn't have any way to express it. So, when Paul walked in, he merely waved him off, giving the startled older man a glare for good measure to make sure that he didn't come back.
"Fuck," 'Taker muttered, leaning so that his back and head rested against the cool lockers. It felt like his skin was burning. He closed his eyes. From the inside out, a fire had been kindled in him, and he vaguely wondered how much of this was the growing Shadow, and how much was his own formerly-repressed desires rising to the fore.
He didn't hear the door open. He didn't see the golden-brown haired man who irreverently entered.
"I hate to admit it, but the Darkness suits you."
The Undertaker startled, staring wide-eyed at Shawn Michaels, who was standing at the door with his signature sideways grin.
And for the first time since he'd met the man, the Lord of Darkness understood the fire that burned in the Heartbreak Kid's blue eyes.
"I may be the Commissioner now," Shawn continued, ominously locking the door. "But what I wouldn't give for a chance to get in the ring with you again."
The Undertaker pushed off from the lockers, slowly stalking over to the fearless, smaller man.
"The ring?" he asked, voice rough with unmet need, mouth curved in a lazy smile. "I'm right here, Michaels."
To accentuate his point, the Undertaker pulled out his hair tie, letting the long, black locks fall over his shoulders and down his back, while several strands fell in front of his face and obscured his eyes. He remembered all of the comments Shawn had made in the past about his hair, and figured that it had been a subtle indication of attraction.
He had figured right. Michaels was on him in an instant, surprisingly strong for his size, forcing the Undertaker to slam back up against the lockers, lips locked on his.
And Shawn, unsurprisingly, was a master mechanic, as one hand went high to tangle in the long hair, and the other low to grip the Deadman's quickly-hardening cock.
The Undertaker moaned loudly, his own hands groping blindly at Shawn's perfect body, pulling the smaller man closer, and closer against him. The Commissioner was coaxing his legs apart; and the moment he spread them the slightest bit, Shawn's grip tightened and all but enclosed the base of his aching manhood.
The Lord of Darkness could feel himself quickly losing control, and when Shawn's lips found the side of his neck, pleasure raced like fire along his veins, and he gave a loud, open-mouthed moan.
"Slut," Shawn whispered, grinning wickedly and squeezing once more, kissing him roughly.
"Takes one to know one," was the Deadman's quick reply, and with a grunt switched their positions so that Shawn was now up against the wall, pinned by his smaller wrists. Their lips met again in a bruising kiss, both of them fighting for dominance, both left gasping for breath when they at last pulled apart.
The Undertaker, not wanting to be outdone completely, began to lick a long trail from the back of Shawn's ear, to his neck, and then to his partially exposed chest. Even as he tasted Shawn's skin, as he savored the blend of sweat and arousal, the Undertaker's reasonable side wondered if he was really going to go all the way with this man.
It frightened him how a not-so-small part of his psyche wanted to get fucked hard on the locker room bench like a whore.
The Commissioner, for his part, was more than pleased with the way things were turning out, and the hesitant look in the Undertaker's eyes was turning him on even more. "I like this change of attitude too," he remarked casually beginning to undue his belt buckle. "But, you know, the Heartbreak Kid still doesn't lay down for anybody. Not even the Lord of Darkness."
Pulling his wrists free, he reached back and gripped the Undertaker's ass hard, drawing another sweet moan from that even sweeter mouth.
"You've never been fucked by a guy yet, have you?" Shawn asked, raising an eyebrow.
'Taker shook his head, face flushing red. "And I don't plan on it, Michaels. I don't lay down either." It was half-true, the Undertaker reasoned, deciding that he had to save some face.
"You don't have to lay down at all," Shawn countered, eyes glowing dangerously. "I'll fuck your tight ass standing up, Deadman."
The Undertaker inhaled deeply, and took a step back. He was painfully hard, and wondered vaguely how they ended up debating who would be on top. It made more sense for Shawn to be the one leading things, as he had all the experience...but 'Taker was loathe to be a passive partner.
Besides, if someone walked in on them...
"Well, what should we do, Michaels?" he asked, folding his tattooed arms.
Shawn looked down at the Undertaker's dick, still straining against his tights. "Shall we do rock-paper-scissors?"
"You're kidding."
"Not at all...What, are you scared to lose?"
Shawn held out his arm, grinning like a madman. And the Undertaker, with a long sigh, did as well.
"Rock...Paper...Scissors...Shoot!"
Those two...my OTP, hahaha.
Next one shot will most likely be unrelated...most likely...
Review? Let me know what you think! :)
