Rating: NC-17
Original Date of Completion: July 2009
Pairing: Evan Bourne/Jack Swagger
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction and not meant to suggest anything about any of it's participants. I own no one. The participants in this story are property of World Wrestling Entertainment Inc.
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Half past twelve
“If that’s over 12, I’m 6’9”.” You smirk as you curl your hand around Jack’s cock; instead of his usual boastful objections, his only reaction is a growl.
And I'm watching the late show
Cuddled against Jack’s broad chest, you hear him groan as the Late Show’s musical guest starts their performance; reaching for the remote you shut off the TV, kissing his cheek and murmuring “I know, I know, Hannah Montana gives you nightmares.”
In my flat all alone
He called twice every night, once before the show and once after, while you were home rehabbing your injury; you were always there to answer the calls.
How I hate to spend the evening on my own
Even with the nightly phone calls, you were lonelier than you ever remembered being during that rehab; he felt the same way, surrounded by hundreds of people every night.
Autumn winds blowing outside my window
Your first night back on the road, he never let you out of his arms, not even to close the window when a cool Chicago breeze turned icy.
As I look around the room
You’d never been captivated by a shadow, until you saw his dancing against a candlelit wall as he moved rhythmically inside you.
And it makes me so depressed to see the gloom
He’s the most miserable sick person that you’ve ever seen, even with a cold he looked and acted like he was dying; your pity was uncontrollable, you held him close even through the coughing fits and fevered shivers.
There's not a soul out there
His hands pushed hard against your shoulders, guiding you down your knees; you looked around the empty locker room one more time before you unbuckled his belt.
No one to hear my prayer
Your calls to God were near breathless as he thrust hard into you, holding you tight against the shower wall; you prayed that God was the only one that could hear you.
Gimme gimme gimme
“Gimme the lube,” He growled against your ear as he guided you onto your stomach; you were barely able to reach the bottle before his hand reached up take it from you.
A man after midnight
He slept in the backseat while you drove, a post-Raw road trip to your next city; when you tried to wake him up, he grumbled and pulled you down against him, silently voiding your hotel reservations.
Won't somebody help me chase the shadows away
His shadows on the wall faded as the candle died off; you were captivated just the same by the dark shine in his eyes.
Gimme gimme gimme
You were never sure how he did it, but his fierce growls demanding your cum always pushed you hard over the edge.
A man after midnight
“I’m fuckin’ hungry,” He mumbled against your ear as he sat up in bed; you saw 1:14 AM on the clock as you heard him call room service.
Take me through the darkness
The first time he smiled at you, really smiled, you saw a light you never expected from him; when you tell him this, he tells you that it was just his teeth reflecting off yours.
To the break of the day
He’s awake before you every morning, but he never moves out of bed; his arms stay wrapped around you until the last possible moment before you both have to get ready.