A/N: Sorry for the long wait. I underestimated the power of the Work & School Tag Team! That, and it took me a while to put this one together. I hope you all enjoy. Next one shot will be up as soon as possible.
The energy of the tribute that happened at the beginning of that night hung in the air like a contagion. Earlier, Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns, along with Bray Wyatt and Luke Harper, were involved in a promo used to energize their match; Dean and Roman were to team together against Bray Wyatt and Luke Harper with Seth Rollins at ringside. When the promo ended, the four men went to the locker rooms to hang out until the card called for them again. Dean slapped Bray on the back playfully.
"Wentworth!" Dean said. "I still wanna know how the hell you give those awesome speeches!" Bray turned around to face Dean.
"How many times I gotta tell you what the fuck my name is?" He asked, clearly irritated as Dean often called him Wentworth instead of his given name Windham.
"Chill, man." Luke Harper said as he stepped to Bray's side. "You know he's just fuckin' with you."
"I know, man. I know. But still. Stop fuckin' calling me Wentworth." Dean shrugged his shoulders.
"And what exactly is wrong with Wentworth?" He asked Bray. "Isn't that your name?"
"No, ass." Bray snapped back. "It's not. Just call me Bray like everybody else."
"Fine. Bray it is." Bray smiled and patted Dean on his shoulder.
"Good man." He said. "I knew I liked you. Jon and I are gonna hit that food table out there. Come with." Dean shook his head.
"I'm good." He said. "Maybe Joe'll join ya." Roman looked at the two bearded men.
"Why are y'all eatin' before you go out there for the match tonight?" He asked them.
"Cause we're hungry." Bray replied. He then turned to Luke. "Come on. Let's go before it all gets gone." The two men walked out of the locker room, leaving Roman and Dean to themselves.
"Those guys." Roman said aloud. He leaned against the wall. The two men then heard what sounded like a rumbling stomach. Dean looked over to Roman while Roman refused to make eye contact.
"Are you fucking kidding me, man?" Dean harped. "Go get something to eat if you're hungry. What the hell is wrong with you?"
"I just ate." Roman said.
"You had a damned salad with nothing in it! That doesn't count worth shit. Go get you some food because-" Dean pointed at Roman's stomach. "-I am not gonna listen to that all fucking night!"
"I'm not-" Before Roman could finish, Dean pointed to the doorway signaling him to leave and join the Wyatts at the concession table. Roman shook his head and walked out of the locker room, leaving Dean alone. Dean reached into his bag and pulled out a bottle of water. He opened it and as soon as he brought it up to his face to drink some of it, he felt a hand hit his back. The force caused him to spill the water on himself and drop the bottle on the floor. Infuriated, he stood up from his seated position and turned to see who the culprit was so he knew who he would be knocking out. He drew his hand but his stomach flipped when he saw Dwayne Johnson standing behind him with a goofy smile on his face.
"What's wrong, kiddo?" Dwayne asked. "Working hard or are ya just happy to see me?" Dean wiped the water off his face and out of his eyes. That moment, Mike Mizanin (the man known as The Miz by many) walked out of the shower area but stopped in his tracks when he saw Dwayne standing in front of Dean. He crept back behind a stall so he would not be seen by the two.
"Well," Dean started. "After seeing who it is, I think I just might be happy to see ya."
"Clean yourself up." Dwayne pointed to the floor where the bottle had fallen and spilled. "You disgust me."
"Ya think that's nasty, just wait until later! I'll be all sweaty after whoopin' on those three stooges! I'm gonna need you to dry me off!"
"Oh, ha ha ha!" Dwayne laughed. "Very funny, candy ass! I'm just making sure you didn't forget about our competition." Dean smirked.
"The eating contest?" He asked. "Nope! I didn't forget! How could I forget about the moment I get to hand you your own dick on a fish plate, Crocker Face?" Dwayne looked at Dean with confusion and slight disgust. Dean then dug his finger into the taller man's chest. "Name the time and the place, Rocky! I'll be there!" Dwayne lifted his hand to the hand Dean used to point at him and slowly moved Dean's hand off of his chest. Dwayne then pulled a piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and handed it to Dean.
"Tomorrow." He said. "Noon. Be there and come alone." Dean took the paper, looked at it, and saw that on it was a telephone number and an address. "Call me when you're on your way." Dwayne walked out of the locker room. Dean eyed the piece of paper with such attention that he failed to notice Seth Rollins walk in.
"Jon." Seth called out, making Dean jump. "What the hell, man? I asked you where Joe went."
"Oh." Dean said. "He went to go eat. He's at the food table." Seth looked at him with skeptical eyes.
"You good?" Seth then pointed his thumb back to the entrance. "Did The Rock just leave outta here?"
"Yeah. So what?"
"You two got into it again, didn't you?"
"We're just doing that food contest thing tomorrow! That's it."
"You guys were serious with that shit? You're gonna have an 'eat-off' with The Rock?"
"I wanna shut him up, Colby! I hate it when he runs his pretty ass mouth like he's better than me or somethin'! I'm gonna kick his ass and shut him up!" Seth simply shook his head at his friend.
"You sound really bad right now, man." He said. "You should see the face you're making right now."
"Fuck off, Colby!" Seth let a laugh escape through his teeth.
"Whatever, man." Seth left Dean in the locker room. Dean then looked at the paper Dwayne gave him and dialed the number in his phone, adding it to his contact list. He briefly contemplated texting the number but decided against it and put his phone away in his bag.
The night ended successfully. Dean and Roman lost their match with the Wyatts after interference from Seth, but stood tall after fighting the three men off. Dean and Roman met Seth in the locker room and while Roman and Seth discussed the match and joked around, Dean went to the back of the room where the showers were located. He stripped his ring gear off and turned the water on in one of the shower stalls. Dean stepped in and let the water run down his toned and sore body, the heat calming his muscles and acting as massage therapy. Dean inhaled and the vapors filled his lungs and warmed him as he exhaled slowly. As his mind settled he began to think about Dwayne and the contest he agreed to. His thoughts flowed from what foods the star would be serving to what he would be wearing to the event. Dean felt as if he should wear something nicer than what he normally wore and decided he would do so, but could not figure out why he felt that way. Dean was so drawn into his thoughts he did not notice The Miz walking by. Miz stopped at the stall Dean was in and whistled.
"I'm not into dudes, man." Miz started, breaking Dean from his ruminations. "But you got a killer ass! Those squats ya been doing have been working. I'm jealous!" Miz broke into a fit of laughter and Dean turned around to open the stall. He then realized that he had left the stall door open, exposing himself to his co-worker. Dean quickly slammed the stall shut.
"Fuck off, Mike!" Dean snapped, making Miz laugh harder.
"You gotta close the damn door, man. No one wants to see your pale ass unless it's dark and we need to see!"
"Get the hell out, Mike!" Miz laughed again and shook his head.
"Yeah yeah." He said. "Call me tomorrow when you're all done eating The Rock's groceries!" Mike began laughing again as he walked out the shower area. Dean's face had turned red with embarrassment. He turned the water off and wrapped the towel he had hanging over the side of the stall around his waist then walked out of the stall to dry off more and get dressed.
Dean found it hard to sleep as his mind continued to flow over the events of the following day. He had done everything from fold his clothes (a task Dean rarely took on) to make some of the black tea that Seth had left behind when mutual friend Renee Paquette (or Renee Young as she is known by on television) and he forced themselves into Dean's room earlier that day. He decided he needed to talk to someone before he met with Dwayne. Dean chose to call Renee as he knew she was still awake watching television.
"You're still up?" Renee asked Dean on the other end of the call.
"Yeah." Dean said. "I need to talk to you about something. Are you busy?"
"Am I busy? Okay. One: no. Two: why are you being all polite? What's going on? Are you dying?"
"What? No, dammit! Just get down here!" Dean hung up the phone before Renee could say anything else. He threw the phone on his bed and began pacing in his mind. He then heard a knock on the door mere seconds later. Dean got up and opened the door to find Renee standing in the doorway with a large bag of Hershey Kisses.
"Okay." Renee said as she made her way to Dean's bed. "What is it that you need to talk about since you're not dying?" Dean locked his door and sat down on the bed.
"Dwayne challenged me to an eating contest." Dean said simply. Renee blinked.
"Okay?" She said as she unwrapped a piece of chocolate and put it her mouth. "You already told me that, remember? I gotta say I didn't think you were serious about it, though. What's the big deal?"
"That's just it. It's not a big deal. Not to him, at least, cause he's an arrogant pretty boy who feels like he's better than me and thinks he's gonna beat me tomorrow! I say, Nope!" Renee put another piece of candy in her mouth.
"So you're saying that you're gonna be Dwayne 'The Rock' Johnson in an eating contest? Why does winning matter to you so much? You aren't winning a trophy or anything, are you?" Dean looked at his feet.
"Nope."
"Are you getting your name put in the paper?"
"Nope."
"Is he going to call you to be in a movie or something if you win?"
"Nope."
"So, what's the problem?"
"I don't know, Renee! I get stupid when I think about tomorrow! I thought maybe you'd help me figure out why." Renee put her hand on Dean's thigh.
"I think you already know why." Renee said. "You just like winning and being on top, and you're worried that Dwayne's gonna beat you to it." Dean sucked his teeth.
"Please!" He hissed. "That meat head ain't gonna beat me! I'm gonna be on top of this one!" Renee rolled her eyes.
"See what I mean?"
"Okay, fine. I'm competitive. Everybody knows that. It's different with this guy, though. I don't know."
"He's more of a threat to your pride than the other people you've been in competition with, Jon. I mean, come on! He's The Rock! He's a legend! Of course you're gonna be intimidated a little bit."
"If you weren't a girl, Renee…" Dean started. "I'd slap the shit outta you. I'm not afraida him!"
"Well," Renee started. "Whatever it is about him has got you messed up. You'd better get it out of your system if you really want to win this weird eating contest." Dean nodded.
"You're right." He said. "I already knew that, though. I need help figuring out why that Samoan douche gets to me so bad."
"I bet you know why he gets to you already." Renee stated. "I don't think you don't need me or anyone else to tell you."
"If I knew then I wouldn't have called you about this, Renee." Dean proceeded to unwrap three pieces of candy and shove them in his mouth.
"You called me because you knew I would be bringing this chocolate." Renee said. "I always bring junk food when I come here."
"And Colby brings tea for some damned reason!"
"Hey! That Earl Grey tea he brought last time was amazing."
"It tasted like coffee!"
"That's because you don't drink tea!"
'That's fucking right! I drink coffee and he still brings tea!" Renee laughed whole-heartedly at her friend. She then put her hand on his shoulder.
"Look." Renee said. "If the eating contest means so much to you, I'll come support you." Dean shook his head.
"Dwayne said I gotta come alone." He stated. Renee furrowed her brow.
"Really? Why would he want you to come by yourself?" She then gasped. "Maybe he is trying to get you on the big screen! Maybe this is all some kind of interview!" Dean blinked.
"I never thought about it like that. I don't know. It could be an interview or something. Don't go telling anybody, though! You know, just in case it's not."
"I won't say a word, not even to Colby." Renee then stood up. "I gotta hit the bed. I'm doing interviews and things tomorrow morning and I gotta get some sleep." Renee hugged Dean knowing he would not return the gesture. "You can keep the kisses. I did buy them just for you, ya know." She opened the door and walked out, Dean closing and locking the door behind her. Dean then sat on the bed and thought about what Renee suggested.
"Maybe she's right." Dean thought. "Maybe this is some kind of interview…Fuck! I gotta iron my suit. I hate ironing!"
What seemed like mere minutes later, a waking Dean Ambrose stared studiously at the alarm clock. It read Ten-O'clock. Dean slowly got up out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He cleaned himself up then looked over at the black pinstripe suit he had ironed and pressed the night before. Dean sighed then proceeded to dress himself. He looked as his watch and headed for the door, but not before looking at himself in the mirror and admiring himself. Dean locked his door, walked down the hallway, and got into the elevator. After reaching the ground floor, Dean walked outside and saw a black limousine in front of the hotel. He was poised to pass the vehicle until the driver motioned for him.
"Mister Good?" The driver said. Dean turned around. "Mister Johnson sent for you."
"I'm ridin' in that?" Dean asked nonchalantly.
"Yes." The driver got out of the limousine and opened the passenger door for Dean. "Please get in. He is expecting you." Dean looked at the driver then shrugged his shoulders and got into the limousine.
Dwayne and his daughter Simone worked to set up the food table in the large dining room for the event. As Simone sat the plate of fish down on the table she looked over to her father.
"Why are you doing this if no one's going to see it happen?" She asked him.
"It's the principle, Simone." Dwayne said without turning around. "He challenged me. You don't challenge The Rock!" Simone shook her head.
"Dad. Please don't go all Rock Mode again. I don't think the world needs another episode." Dwayne sat the container of vegetables on the table.
"I haven't gone Rock Mode in a long time, Simone."
"What about last week when we were eating out at Shoney's and you went Rock Mode when the buffet line didn't have any more mac-n-cheese?"
"That was justified. How the hell ya gonna run out of mac-n-cheese?" Simone stared at her father with disgust.
"How about just yesterday when that guy at Starbucks wrote your name on your coffee cup as 'Big Man' and put too much cinnamon on the whip cream in your cappuccino?"
"I told him a pinch of cinnamon. He threw the whole damn bottle on there! I can't drink my cappuccino like that! He ruined it!" Simone shook her head.
"Well, Amy invited me to go shopping with her." She said. "Once I finished helping you with this I think I'm gonna go." Dwayne looked at her with paternal eyes.
"Got your phone?" He asked his daughter.
"Yes, Daddy."
"Got your mace?"
"Yes, Daddy. I got everything I need."
"Good girl." Simone put the last plate of rice on the table and hugged her father.
"I'm gonna tell her to pick me up now!" She said with a smile before running out of the dining room.
"Don't forget your Swiss army knife!" Dwayne yelled as Simone ran out of the dining room and up the stairs. He then turned back to the table and was pleased with how well everything Simone and he prepared. Dwayne then heard Simone run back into the room. She jumped to kiss him on the cheek.
"She's here, Daddy." She said. "I'm leaving now. Love you, love you. No Rock Mode!"
"Love you, love you." Dwayne said to her as she ran out of the dining room and out of the house. "And no Rock Mode! I got it, little girl!" The front door closed with a slam and that moment Dwayne was alone in his oversized home. He walked out of the room and into the massive living room. He sat down on the sofa and began thinking about the eating contest he put together. He knew Dean would not beat him as eating such copious amounts of food was something he did every day.
"That crazy jabroni." He said to himself in reference to Dean. "That candy ass!" Dwayne began feeling a foreign stirring in the pit of his stomach. The feeling caused him to breathe deeply as he sat up straight. Dwayne then heard his phone ring. He looked at it and saw that it was the number used to open the gate to his home. He clapped his hands together.
"Oh yeah!" He said ecstatically. "Time to get this show on the road!" Dwayne hit the number 9 on his phone and walked outside to see the limousine carrying Dean Ambrose drive down the driveway. The limousine stopped and the driver got out to let his passenger out. When Dwayne saw Dean get out of the vehicle, he gave him an awkward look.
"What the hell do you have on?" Dwayne asked apparently overdressed Dean.
"A fucking suit." Dean said. "Whadduya think it is?"
"Why are you wearing a suit? We're having a damn contest, dumbass, not going on a date!"
"A date? That was the furthest from my mind, Crocker Face! What if I just wanted to look nice for a change?"
"You picked the wrong time to do it, man!" Dwayne then shrugged. "That, and you don't look good in blue. Try red and black next time." Dean was slightly drawn away by Dwayne's suggestion.
"You know," He started. "I just might do that." Dean lifted his hands. "Can we get to the part where I kick your ass at your own fucking house?" Dwayne laughed jokingly.
"Oh no no no, Sunny Boy!" He said. "I'm gonna be the one kickin' your candy ass!" He turned around with his arms in the air and walked towards his front door. "This is my damn house!" Dean let out a heavy sigh and followed the larger man into his home. He was bewildered at how elaborate the mansion was. There was not a surface undecorated. The marble walls were lined with portraits of Dwayne, his daughter Simone, and his family as well as many paintings. Dean's attention was then drawn to the man in front of him – the one and only Dwayne Johnson. The six-foot-five muscular man walked with a presence only he could fill the world with. It was hard to mistake him for anyone else because his energy that made him stand out in a crowd of millions. Dean could not help but to admire Dwayne for who he was and what he accomplished. Dean then found himself staring at him for longer than he intended. Dwayne looked back, looking almost as if he knew Dean was staring at him.
"You like the view?" He asked, causing Dean to further insinuate that the man knew he had been staring.
"You've got a nice…" Dean paused before continuing. "house, man." Dwayne noticed the break in Dean's reply and turned to face him, his face lined with slight irritation.
"Why'd ya hesitate? Are you lying?"
"What? No! I'm being serious. I like what you've done with the place." Dwayne then smiled.
"Glad you like it." He said. "I'll do yours if ya want." Dean's eyes widened slightly.
"Do my what?" He asked.
"Remodel your house, dumbass!" Dwayne then turned around. "Now come on here. The dining room is right over here. Hope you're ready for an ass whoopin'!" Dean sucked his teeth.
"Whatever, Crocker Face!" Dean snapped back. "I'm the one who's gonna be on top!" Dwayne closed the distance between the two of them and Dean felt as if a lung collapsed that moment.
"Yeah?" Dwayne said in a low, somewhat sultry tone before laughing and raising his voice. "We'll see about that, candy ass!" He then turned around and pushed open the large door of the dining room, then pointed to the coat hanger next to him. "Put your blazer up there and get in here." Dean did as he was told then entered the dining room. In it were two large tables, both full of food and a chair placed underneath. Dean was secretly amazed at how much food was actually laid out.
"This is what I eat every day." Dwayne said to him. Dean then looked around the room and noticed something off-putting.
"Where are the cameras in here?" Dean asked.
"No one puts cameras in their dining area!" Dean looked at Dwayne with a look of disbelief.
"Seriously? Yes, Crocker Face. People do indeed put cameras in their dining rooms."
"Mine doesn't have any, so there's that."
"Well, how is everybody gonna know I won?"
"Whoa whoa whoa!" Dwayne stabbed at Dean's chest with his finger. "I'm gonna win this and when I do I'll let everybody following me on Facebook and Twitter know because we're gonna take a picture together!" Dean immediately decided against Dwayne's motif.
"Hell no!" He detested.
"Oh, hell yes!" Dwayne then placed his hand on Dean's shoulder. "I'm an honest man, though. If you do manage to beat me, which isn't gonna happen, then I'll personally make sure everybody finds out about it. As a matter of fact…" Dwayne released Dean and walked over to one of the tables. "I'll let you go first!" Dean blinked at him a few times then shrugged.
"What?" He said. "Am I just eating or is there a timer or something?" Dwayne narrowed his eyes.
"Just sit down! There's no timer, so just start eatin'!" An image flashed across Dean's mind and he smiled at what he saw. He nodded.
"Alright then." He said simply before sitting down. Dean looked at the food then grabbed the fork and started with the bowl of vegetables, consuming them quickly and fairly easy.
"Not bad." Dwayne said, genuinely impressed by how easily Dean ate the vegetables. "Ya still got all that to eat, though!" Dean scoffed.
"Piss off!" Dean snapped. "I got this!" He slid the empty bowl to the side of him and picked up the bowl of rice along with the plate of two large croaker fish. Dean cut into the fish and put a large piece in his mouth.
"That fish has bones." Dwayne said, making Dean look at him.
"Chill man!" Dean said with a mouth full of fish. "I know it has bones in it!" He packed a spoon full of rice into his mouth and went to swallow but felt a sharp pain in his throat. Dean winced as it shot from his throat to his mouth. Dwayne narrowed his eyes as he studied Dean's actions carefully.
"You good?" He asked him. Dean attempted to speak but the pain returned and caused him to refrain, and Dwayne noticed immediately. "Shit, boy!" He grabbed a roll from the other table and handed it to him. "Drink some water and eat this. It'll pull the-" Before Dwayne could finish telling him what to do to dislodge the bone that had obviously gotten caught in his throat, Dean shoved half the roll in his mouth. "Dammit! You were supposed to drink water first and then eat the bread!" Dean swallowed hard and sure enough the dry bread roll had gotten caught in his throat. Dean's face began to change colors.
"Fuck!" Dwayne cursed aloud. He forcefully pulled Dean out of his seat, positioned himself behind him, and began the Heimlich maneuver to force the bread out of his throat. Dwayne squeezed hard three times and Dean spat the bread out onto the table. Dean coughed several times in an attempt to catch his breath. He looked back at Dwayne who was shaking his head. Feeling as if he were shaming him, Dean sat back down in his seat and began stuffing more rice into his mouth.
"What the-" Dwayne stopped himself and grabbed Dean's arm to keep him from putting more food in his mouth. Dean immediately felt a jolt course through his body causing him to drop the fork of rice on the plate. He looked up and met with Dwayne's sienna eyes.
"I just saved you from choking…" Dwayne started. "And you're still going to try and eat this stuff?" Dean swallowed hard then put on his signature scowl in order to deceive the other man.
"You're not beating me." Dean simply said. Dwayne scoffed and let go of Dean's wrist.
"You've got to be the dumbest guy I've ever met! You almost died and you're still on about this damn eating contest! I mean, you didn't even thank me for saving your candy ass!"
"You didn't save me, Croaker Face!" Dean snapped back. "I was gonna spit it out."
"It was gonna fall out after you stopped breathing!"
"I was fine! You just wanted your hands on me, Croaker Face!"
"And what the hell makes you think that?" Dean stood up from his seat.
"Come on!" He said. "I mean, look at me! You know I'm hot in this suit, bitch!" Dwayne narrowed his eyes.
"What did you just call me?" Dean closed the distance between them.
"I called you…Bitch."
"…Bitch?"
"Yup."
"First Croaker Face. Now Bitch?"
"Yup." Dean blinked as Dwayne let a sigh escape through his nose. The two then stared into each other's eyes.
"Why are you so close?" Dwayne asked Dean.
"Maybe I like being this close." Dean strangely replied.
"Fuck that."
"If you don't like it then move."
"I'm not moving. You move." Dean then drew in closer.
"There." He said. "I moved." Dean smirked at Dwayne and Dwayne, surprisingly to Dean, gradually returned the gesture.
"I know what you're thinkin'." Dwayne said.
"Oh really?" Dean replied.
"Think you're better than me?"
"I know I'm better than you."
"That right?"
"Fuck yeah. You got nothin' on me!" Dwayne got so close his forehead touched Dean's and Dean felt their lips briefly touch.
"You know you can't beat me, Jonny Boy." Dwayne said in his sultry voice. Dean almost shivered under the chill the man's voice sent through him. Not wanting to be upstaged, Dean decided to attempt to use the same sultry tone.
"I noticed you don't have any pie on your tables, Croaker Face." He said. "Why? Don't like pie?" Dwayne did not flinch at Dean's attempt to sway him.
"I love pie." He said. "I love it all. I just can't eat it as much as I want. Gotta watch my figure."
"Is that the real reason why there's no pie out here?"
Sure is. I've got a pretty big…" Dwayne grinned in Dean's face. "…sweet tooth." Dean felt the feeling in the pit of stomach that he got the last time Dwayne and he butted heads.
"Yeah?" He said in a thick breath. "Me too. Love candy." Unable to withstand the other man's charm, Dean proceeded to stick his tongue out and lick Dwayne's lips. His tongue danced in his mouth as he devoured their sensual taste. With a smirk on his face, Dean awaited Dwayne's reaction. Instead of attacking him like Dean thought he would do, Dwayne returned with a smirk of his own.
"Think I got something for you to lick on that's sweeter than my lips." Dwayne said.
"That right? Well, I got something for you, too, 'Rocky'." Dean began to feel as if he was finally getting into Dwayne's head. He backed up a small distance. "In fact, I got a wager."
"You're challenging me again, kid?" Dwayne said. "You almost died the last time." Dean let out an airy laugh.
"Whatever, Croaker Face." He started. "I know I can make you jizz harder than you ever jizzed before!" Dwayne sucked his teeth.
"Please!" He retorted. "You ain't ready for that challenge, boy! I will wreck your candy ass!"
"Oh really? Well, put your money where my dick's gonna be!" Dwayne blinked at Dean's response.
"How much?"
"A million."
"You got that to play with?"
"No, but once I'm done with you I will have it to buy myself a trophy!" Dwayne then scoffed.
"Ya know, we do more working than talking where I come from."
"Well," Dean started. "We talk where I come from because we work."
"You ain't workin', so why ya talkin'?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Guess you're right." He walked up to Dwayne and grabbed his groin. Dwayne nearly jumped back.
"Whoa whoa whoa whoa!" He said waving his hands. "You don't just roll up on the Rock, grab the Rock! What the hell ya doin!? The Rock needs presentation, entrance!" Dwayne pointed out of the room to the large staircase. "Get your ass up those stairs." Dean sucked his teeth.
"You first, Croaker Face." Dean said. "It's your house." Dwayne closed the distance between their faces.
"You damn right it's my house!" He shouted before heading up the stairs. Dean followed behind him, eying him as they both ventured upstairs.
"Are you wearing underwear?" Dean asked without thinking. He heard Dwayne huff.
"Shut up back there and enjoy the view." Dwayne said.
"I am and I will." At the top of the stairs, Dwayne walked into the room right in front of them. It had a simple bedroom set and a television. He then turned around to face Dean.
"Guest room." He said. "Since you're a guest." Dean narrowed his eyes.
"What happened to the whole Presentation thing?" He asked apathetically.
"It's coming, buddy boy! You know I gotta show you the rest of the house." At that point, Dean had grown uninterested in the house. He was more interested in the owner.
"You're stalling." Dean said. "Stop stalling, Rocky."
"Fuck that!" Dwayne snapped back. "I'm not stalling! I'm giving you time to get yourself together and prepare for what I'm about to put on you, boy!" Dean shook his head.
"That chin music you're singin' is just a remix of a song I've been hearing long before you knew anything about me." He then grabbed the two front belt loops of Dwayne's shorts and backed him up against the bed to where his legs buckled and caused him to sit down on the mattress. "So, put it on mute, Rocky, so I can make you sing a different song!"
"Who the hell do-" Before Dwayne could detest further, Dean covered his mouth with one of his hands and slid the other hand down the front of Dwayne's shorts. Dean felt Dwayne jump as his cold hand gripped his slightly hardened member and he smirked. The moment Dean felt Dwayne try to stand, he used his own weight to push the man back onto the bed and squeezed his shaft harder, the pressure making it harden further. Dean then moved his hand from Dwayne's mouth to undo his shorts.
"You son of a bitch…" Dwayne said under his breath.
"Shut up, Croaker Face." Dean said as he pulled the other man's shorts down to his ankles. Dean then stood tall to look Dwayne in his face as he began to stroke him. Dean grinned at how much his hand motions made Dwayne stir on the mattress.
"You think-ahh-you're gonna make me come like this…" Dwayne spoke through his semi-uncontrollable moans. "…Then you've got your…shit…twisted!" He then picked Dean up, much to Dean's chagrin, and threw him onto the bed.
"What the hell's your problem?" Dean nearly shouted. His anger was met with his shirt being ripped off of his body, exposing his recently shaven chest and slightly detailed abdomen. Dean then groaned as Dwayne bit down on his chest and rubbed his hard shaft through his pants. Unbeknownst to Dwayne, however, Dean's body was highly sensitive to touch and it did not take long for him to begin leaking through his slacks.
"Fuck yeah!" Dean moaned as Dwayne slipped his hand down Dean's slacks and felt his moisture.
"You like that, huh?" Dwayne asked as he pulled away from Dean's chest. "Just wait!" The pleasure Dean felt from his nipples being bitten was greater than he expected and he began to yearn for it. He felt his pants be removed and then a warmth on his member not long after. The sensation sent chills flowing through his body as if his blood had become volcanically charged.
"Fuck!" Dean shouted through an involuntary moan as he felt Dwayne's throat expertly stroke the top of his shaft. He clinched his fists and slammed them on the bed as the other man slowly came up from his position with a grin and laughed.
"Told ya you ain't better than me!" Dwayne asked rhetorically, making Dean angry both for the comment and for Dwayne stopping. "You're on the edge, aren't cha?"
"Not even close!" Dean said, actually lying to save his ego from his newly appointed rival. He then pushed Dwayne over on his back.
"No way I'm letting this hot fuck bag beat me at this!" Dean thought to himself. "No fucking way!" Dean descended and took one of Dwayne's orbs into his mouth, allowing his tongue to massage it sensually and soliciting a moan from the owner.
"Damn." Dwayne said through heavy breathing. "I'll give you points for creativity! Shit." Dean then took both of them into his mouth and used the peak of his nose to stroke the underside of Dwayne's thick member, making the other man groan and buck his hips in rhythm with Dean's motions. He then released the organs and stuck his tongue out, licking the underside of Dwayne's shaft from the base of it to its mushroom-like crown before wrapping his lips around it and swallowing it whole. Dwayne cursed aloud as Dean bobbed his head while using his tongue to apply ample pressure and bring him close to his breaking point quicker than he had experienced. Dean then stopped and looked to see Dwayne sweating profusely. He smirked.
"Come on, old man!" Dean said. "Who's beating who?" Dwayne panted once.
"Lay your candy ass down!" Dwayne said before sitting up.
"Oh now you wanna lose, huh?" Dean said, partly joking but mostly wanting Dwayne to give him the answer he wanted to hear. He laid across the bed on his stomach. "This candy ass is gonna be your downfall, Rocky!" Dean then felt Dwayne's warm tongue massaging his entrance and a surge went coursing through his body.
"Oh, fuck yeah, Rocky!" Dean said with somewhat of a childish undertone as the sensation and Dwayne licking his hole sent chills through his body. Dean almost instinctively knew what was to come next the moment he did not feel a tongue any longer. He grinned and braced himself as Dwayne slowly began to penetrate him. The acute pain caused by the stretching of the muscle was intense as although Dwayne was not as long as Dean was, he was not exactly thin. That pain quickly turned into pleasure as Dwayne began to skillfully stroke Dean's prostate with his diamond hard member. Both men felt their stomachs begin to shift after several moments of Dwayne thrusting in and out of Dean's tight entrance and stroking Dean's spot.
"Come on, Rocky!" Dean said as he tightened his muscle to stimulate Dwayne further. He felt Dwayne then pull up and plop himself next to Dean on the bed.
"Let's go!" Dwayne said as he quickly stroked himself. "Whoever shoots the furthest wins this!" Dean flipped over and began to stroke himself. It was not long before the two men released with loud moans. Dwayne looked at himself then at Dean.
"I win." He heard Dean say through a fit of heavy breathing. Dwayne's eyes widened.
"Oh no, boy!" Dwayne said. "I won this!"
"You were louder than me, Croaker Face, so I won."
"I shot the furthest! I won!"
"That's not what we bet on!"
"I just said whoever shoots the furthest wins. I shot the furthest
"No! You just put that up! I said whoever made the other jizz harder wins and I did that since you shot farther than me, Croaker Face!"
"That don't mean nothing! I always shoot far! I'm that damn good!"
"Seriously!?"
"Seriously!"
Downstairs, the front door of the mansion had been opened and in the living sat Dwayne's daughter Simone trying to seemingly console a maid who was curled up in a ball rocking back and forth. The maid heard Dwayne and Dean "competing" upstairs and was disturbed by the sounds the two men made. She cowered by the sofa in the living room when Simone had come home to retrieve her mp3 player and saw the woman on the floor. The two of them heard Dwayne and Dean shouting upstairs.
"Well then!" They heard Dean shout. "I guess that means we'll have to do it all again to see who's better now that we are both evenly rocked off!"
"Bring it on, candy ass!" Dwayne shouted.
"Santa Maria!" The maid said as she raised her hands to the sky. "Oooyyyyeeee!" Simone rubbed her back.
"I'll make sure Dad gets your last check as soon as possible." Simone told the maid as she cried on her shoulder.