Fic: Crave Part 6.
My hotel room is all tidy because I just checked in and the bar fridge is full. I think I’m nervous. Wandering around the suite like a caged wolf. I think I’m very impatient as well. Where the hell is he?
I let my gaze linger on the bed, imagining all the fucking I would love to indulge in with Chris. Probably not tonight, I tell my cock. First date and all that. But I can wish can’t I? Wonder what it would feel like to have him under me, legs wrapped around my waist while I ease into his tight ass. Burying my face in his hair, hearing him gasp and beg while I fuck him long and slow. All night.
“Those bedspreads are truly hypnotizing I know.” His voice rips me from my almost wet dream.
I spin around to stare at the object of my lust lounging in my hotel room doorway. Hair across his shoulders, blue eyes a bit…cautious? I stare at him numbly.
His smile falters a little.
“The door was open. If you want to let this go I…”
Chris doesn’t even finish the sentence as I’m across the room sliding a hand around his waist to pull him inside, shutting the door behind him with the other. I look down into his eyes as I tighten the half-embrace in which he’s trapped. Very deliberately I lock the door. His eyebrows go up.
I realize he’s holding a six-pack.
Did I mention I love the little bastard?
“Do ya have any idea what it does to me to see ya, in my room, with beer?”
The sexy smile is back, blue eyes now bright with amusement.
“Why do you think I keep buying it for you?”
“Ha.” God I’m a fool. I lean forward to lightly nuzzle the golden curve of Chris’ neck. I feel his body melt, curving into mine like molasses. The air around us stills for a second then shifts as Chris draws in a deep breath and lets it out as a sigh. I try to hold on but he moves out of my arms. Dropping the beer onto the small kitchen counter Jericho walks to the other side of the couch.
“What?” If he changes his mind about this I’m gonna kick his ass across the room.
The sharp blue eyes look directly into mine.
“We met...what?...four years ago?” Chris enquires.
“’bout that. Why?” Kick it down the hallway too.
“We had a signing for the third music CD.” I’m lost and I let my expression show it. “You, me and Debra.” He finishes with eyebrows raised.
Whatthefuck?
“So?” I’m down to one syllable it seems.
The only sound in the room is the rustle of Chris’ shirt as he crosses his arms across his chest.
“So. You are Stone Cold Steve Austin. The Toughest SOB in the World Wrestling Federation. Austin 3:16 said I just kicked your ass. Etcetera, etcetera.” Might kick his ass down the stairs too.
“And?” Like pulling fuckin’ teeth this conversation.
“And…” Jericho’s look becomes even more intense. “You married Deb a month after that signing.”
A pause. “Married.”
Another pause. “A woman.”
To say I’m a bit thrown here would be like saying Goldberg is a bit of a bastard. “Yeah so?”
It’s like Chris suddenly drops the icy bitch attitude, letting his arms fall to the sides he begins to pace.
“I have never, in four years, seen you even look at another man Austin. I know Bradshaw tried to get into your pants, but rumour is you turned him down by breaking his nose.” He prowls the room like the big golden wildcat everyone compares him too.
“It was his jaw.” I correct absently.
Those long fingers ruffle through golden hair. He flicks me a blue sideways look, but stays silent.
Oh. I fuckin’ get it.
“Ya wanna know why I’ve switched sides?” I ask incredulously.
Jericho’s face stills then relaxes into a smile. “Guess so.”
I make like I’m seriously thinking about my answer.
“I haven’t.”
His smile freezes.
I can be a bastard too remember.
“I, as Debra the bitch wife from hell will attest to, will fuck any thing that moves.”
The smile warms again.
“And if it doesn’t move…I’ll push it.” I snigger.
A snort of laughter from Chris. “As long as it’s breathing,” he agrees.
“As long as it’s still warm.” I concur.
Jericho shakes his head in despair. “Such a romantic.”
“Romance? Fuck that! I tried romance with Debra and she’s still a complete bitch.” Better we settle this now than it comes back to bite me on the ass later. “Just ‘cos I never did anyone from the locker room, doesn’t mean I never go for guys.” I gesture between us. “Case in point Gorgeous.”
“And Bradshaw?” His eyes are curious now.
I stare at him in shock. “Would you fuck Bradshaw?”
He thinks that over for a second. “Ahh no.”
“So there ya are.” Grinning now I relax the grip my hands had unconsciously taken on the back of a chair.
Posture now more at ease, Chris leans a hip against the couch. “So here we are.”
“And this?” I gestures to the space between us.
“The couch?” He inquires.
“Nah ya Prick. I mean this!” I begin to stalk around the couch, ready to pounce on his cute Canadian ass.
He nimbly avoids me. “What? Our URST?”
Stunned I stop my hunt. “What?”
Hands once again on slim hips he looks disappointed that I’ve stopped moving.
“Unresolved Sexual Tension.” Like a professor or something.
“Unresolved SEXual Tension? Huh?” I begin the prowl again. Chris resumes his attempt to flee.
A smirk. “You would emphasis the middle.” He teases.
“Well the ‘Unresolved’ bit ain’t gonna be the case much longer.” I make a grab. “Now c’mere.”
I tackle Chris and we fall to the couch in a tangle of blonde hair and blue jeans.
I swear he tastes better each time.
After a couple of minutes of tangled tongues and me trying to unzip vinyl pants that I discover are button fly, we surface for air.
Deciding I can play cock tease with the best of them, I heft myself off my gorgeous new fuck-toy and wander into the little kitchen.
Pulling a beer from the ring I pop it open and look to my guest.
He blinks at me from sex dazed sapphire blue eyes and takes a second to focus.
Ha.
“Want one?” I offer generously.
“Definitely.” I toss him a can, which he catches easily. This sparks a memory as I settle back on the couch.
“I can’t believe ya dropped that beer.” I snicker at him.
Jericho rolls his eyes. “I didn’t. You throw like a girl. Actually the girls I know throw better than you.” He sits crossed legged next to me. In easy reach.
“No way. Ya missed the beer. Chris, I’m-So-Coordinated-A Tiger-Would-Be-Jealous, Jericho needed a kiddy throw to catch a can from five feet away.” I tease ruthlessly.
“You are delusional,” my soon to be lover insults me. “And ‘Drunk With Power’.” Chris smiles nastily.
“Any chance I can get Darlin’,” I bare my teeth at him.
His beer can thumps onto the coffee table as ”oomph” Chris launches himself onto me. Good thing we both like it when he’s on top. I collect two handfuls vinyl and start to growl like some freakin’ beast when….
….de, de dah, da, da dah, de, de dah, da, da, dah, de, de, dah, da, da, dah daa-daa….
All movement from the God of Sex stops as the music echoes through the room.
Sapphire eyes lock onto mine.
“You have Rawhide as your ring tone?” Chris asks.
“Yeah so?” Regretfully, I toss Jericho onto the floor and grab at my bag near the bed.
Lifting his crossed ankles to rest on the disordered couch, Chris watches upside down as I answer my cellular.
“What?”
I ignore the snort from the floor.
Fuck. It’s JR.
“Yeah.” I’m only half listening as Chris’ shirt has ridden up and I can see the tanned skin of his abdomen above the Sinful Pants.
“What? Now?!!” That registers. “Fine, I’ll be there in five.”
I hang up.
“So I’m dating a superstar and he’s never around.” With a move that uses far more back muscles than most people have, Chris twists to his feet.
Like I’m gonna cop that. “Says Mr-Can’t-Miss-A-House-Show-Or-The-World-Will-End.”
Jericho flips me the bird.
Adjusting his clothes, Chris walks to the door. “I’m flying out at 7am. You?”
“Same flight.” I grab my keys and follow him to the door. I cover his hand as it catches the handle. “Ever had a blow job in an airplane toilet?” I whisper into his neck. Yeah I gotta thing for necks, and asses, and hair, and eyes….
“Not that I remember.” Chris’ whisper has the sexy husky tone I just fuckin’ adore.
I twist the handle, exposing us to the world.
“Then I’ll see you at seven.” I promise.
I watch as Jericho wanders back to his room.
“Darlin’” His head shoots around but by then I’ve made it to the elevator.
Score one me.
Almost.
*******
7.13am
******
I wonder if I concentrate hard enough I can make Hunter’s head explode?
nnnnggghhhhnnnn
Damn.
Didn’t work.
Woulda been perfect. Hunter’s brain matter all over the airline upholstery and Chris, MY Chris, no longer caught by the World Heavyweight Champion’s need for a heart to heart four seats across. Chris in my lap while I do stuff that’ll freak out the stewardess.
Miss Itty Bitty Skirt, keeps checking him out.
Try again with the head thing.
Nnnngggghhhnnnnn
Think I’m all outta luck there.
Oh fer crying out loud….
Yes HONEY, they are both BLOND and gorgeous, but one’s married and the other’s MINE so piss off and get me a beer.
Yeah, I’m a sexist prick, but that’s her job.
There’s like two peanuts in this packet! How can a man survive on that?
Wonder what they’re saying.
I stare mournfully at the toilet, ignoring Kurt’s worried expression, and pray for Hunter to drop dead.
10.07am
*******
“What’s yer name kid?” I ask.
I really do like my fans. They kick ass all over anyone else’s because, well, they’re mine. Sometimes, though, I really, really wish I wasn’t who I was.
Like now. When nearly sixty people stand between me and the baggage area where my SOON TO BE NAILED IN THE BACKSEAT OF A TAXI, potential lover is leaning provocatively against his luggage trolley.
If you thought luggage trolleys weren’t sexy then ya haven’t seen Jericho within three feet of one.
“Sure I can. How do ya spell that?” Smiling I take the marker.
11.35am
*******
“I…I…just...just can’t seem to find the...the…booking Mr Austin.” The silly chit says in nervy voice.
I’d almost feel sorry for the receptionist except it’s my room she’s lost and I’m an angry, sexually frustrated pro wrestler who drinks too much with a bad reputation.
I’d be afraid of me, come to think of it.
“Listen Doll. I know yer doin yer best but I really, really have to have a room in this hotel. Do ya understand?” She stares at me numbly.
It’s now fifteen hours since I last had my hands on Jericho.
Cranky is not the word.
“I’ll…um…call the Day Supervisor.”
I blame Vince.
1.27pm
******
Ya know I’ve never realized how much of a turn on the Lionsault is.
I mean, I know it’s a blond guy doing a back flip off a big rubber band and all, but it’s really sexy watching him perform it. Even without someone to land on.
And let’s not fuckin’ talk about when he lands it on his feet!
If I wasn’t already in love, watching Jericho rehearse his moves is making me want to squeal like a fan girl.
Well, maybe not.
I think I’m going insane from MSB.
Massive Sperm Buildup.
5.23pm
******
I’ve decided Maven doesn’t have an off switch.
“...then Jaqueline literally rips the locker open with her fingernails and hands Randy the car keys….”
I could wrap my knee brace around his throat.
“…So he’s like, okay, I’m driving I guess…”
Could try the brain splatter thing.
8.04pm
******
Prepping thumb and forefinger I pinch that cute ass then duck as Chris instinctively swings around to take my head off.
“Christ Austin, you don’t like breathing much do you?” he snarls.
I grab Jericho’s wrist, leading him behind the blackout curtain.
“I’ve been achin’ to do that all day,” I inform the blonde as I try to back him up against a partition with ‘Employees only’ printed on it.
Resisting my not so gentle shove, Jericho takes hold of my ears and forces my face from his neck.
“Fight the ache Babe, we’re working,” but the blue eyes are warm and amused.
Grabbing Chris’ wrists I get back to work on the golden curve of neck, gently sinking in my teeth. The 200 odd pounds of muscle squirm enticingly against me so I bite a bit harder, leaving a red mark that’ll bruise by tonight.
I’m actually surprised it takes him as long as it does. By doing some weird Canadian shit with his ankle, Chris reverses our positions. Soft, pink lips hover an inch from mine.
“Austin?” The husky voice has its usual effect on my crotch.
“Darlin’?”
“We’ll deal with your aches later,” I knew he was as hot on the inside as he looks on the outside.
“’Bout, fuckin’ time!” I never meant a sentence more in my life.
******