Professional Jackass™

Bike Ride

Turned

In Sickness and in Stubbornness

Happy Birthday?

The Memories of a Lost Man

After The Match: TLC

Movie Night Confusion

Gold Medal Comfort

Softly Now

"Whiskey" Business

Bloody Masses

Under Your Scars

Six-Pack

Fruity

Lonely for Long

Lawless

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Title Histories

Undertaker

Stone Cold Steve Austin

~•~•~•~

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked up at the neon sign in front of you. You were somewhere in Pittsburgh, it was starting to rain, and a tequila sunrise sounded damn good to you.

Somehow another fight started with your, now ex, boyfriend. He had blamed you for something, the subject of which you dont care to remember. You stood up for yourself this time and ended it right there, throwing his stuff out of your apartment. You cried on the floor for a while before deciding to get out for a change of scenery.

The bouncer at the door gave a nod when you handed him your ID and you walked in, quickly wiping the tears off your cheeks as you scanned the small bar.

It was homey, with a small dancefloor in the corner and soft lights, a love song playing in the background and a pretty well stocked bar. There were a few people inside, two dancing and some scattered around at the bar. You picked a seat a bit away from some patrons and waited.

The barman popped the top off a beer and set it down before coming over to you. "Whatll'ya have, sweetheart?" He sounded bored. "Tequila sunrise." You answered, desperately hoping your voice doesnt crack. The barman grunted and went to work.

Across the bar, blue eyes watched you order and stare down at your hands.

Kurt had just gotten off a Smackdown! taping and was tired. It was a good one today, with a win against Kane and plenty of dorky backstage moments with Triple H and Stone Cold.

He took a sip of an IPA and watched as you got your drink. It was a beautiful drink perfectly made up into sunrise colors. It should've made you smile, but you could barely crack a smirk and tasted it. Fruity, sweet, and the sting of alcohol.

Kurt took notice of your eyes as you sipped. 'I know that look.' He thought sadly. He's seen plenty of women have the same look backstage. Relationships gone wrong and women not treated as they're supposed to. He hated that.

You felt someone's eyes and your turned your head, catching blues, which quickly turned away. He was handsome, you thought, and you turned back to your drink slightly smiling.

A blush appeared on Kurts cheeks as he sipped his drink again. 'Golly, shes beautiful.' He thought. The way your hair curled slightly around your face, framing your cheeks and complimenting your eyes. The pout of your lips, your cute nose, everything he noticed in that short look was gorgeous.

He thought. And thought some more. And a tiny bit more.

He wanted to get to know you. Even if it went nowhere, he wanted to at least know your name.

A slow romance song started up, changing the lighting to a soft pink. Luck was with Kurt that night. "I might as well be a man about it." He told himself, and walked right up to you.

You had almost finished your drink when he walked up, startling you a little. You looked up at him wide eyed, and you noticed his cheeks pinking up. "Golly, sorry, but I thought you were really-" He stopped himself in case he embarrassed himself and took a breath. "Uh, s-sorry, but would you like to dance?" He held his hand out for you.

Someone asking you to dance? That was shocking. You barely even knew a two-step. He seemed nice enough though, and his eyes screamed kindness. So what the heck. "Sure." You replied with a small smile, and you took his hand.

He held your hand as you slid off the barstool and gently led you to the dancefloor. That's when you noticed he was ripped. Like genuinely full of muscle. His biceps and forearms were huge, and his plain tee held tight around his chest. You blushed and looked up at him, trailing your eyes from his thick neck to a polite smile as he looked back.

"Do you know how to dance?" He asked, shaking you out of your admiration. "Uh.. I may know a slight two step." You replied sheepishly. He gave a little laugh. "It's ok, I barely know how either." He guided your hands to the right place and started swaying to the beat, you catching on a moment after.

It was nice for a moment. He was gentle with you. But your thoughts trailed back to your ex, and how rough he'd been with you. Harsh grips around your wrist, yelling, slamming doors. You gasped and shook a little in his grip.

"So, whats your name?" He piped up. He didn't seem to notice your mental lapse. You looked back at him. "Y/N." You answered. "Kurt." He replied simply.

The music picked up a little and he held you slightly closer to him. It was comforting, but it still hurt slightly.

You must've not noticed your body shaking more, as Kurt stopped the dance and looked at you with concern. "Hey, is everything aright? You're shaking, hon." You took a shaky breath and nodded. "Yeah, yeah I'm ok." Kurt didn't buy it. "Let's go sit down, I'll get you some water.

He led you back to the bar and asked the barman for a glass of water for both of you. Your breath evened out by the time he came back with two full glasses.

"I'm sorry." You blurted out. Kurt stopped his glass halfway to his face, wide-eyed. "Why are you sorry? You didn't do anything." You shook your head. "I ruined the dance." Kurt placed a hand on your cheek. "Its okay, really. We all have things going on someway or another."

That made you smile a little. "Thanks for the water." Ypu pulled out your wallet and took out a couple bills. "How much do I owe you?" Kurt furrowed his eyebrows. "You don't have to do that, sweetheart. I got it." You gave him a pleading look. "Just let me do this, please? I'll even throw in some to pay for your drink too." Kurt looked pained. "You really don't have to."

You put your money on the bar anyway, and the barman happily took the cash. "You really didn't." Kurt huffed out.

A shrill beeping in the tune of some patriotic sounding song chimed up, startling both of you. Kurt took out a pager and frowned. "My boss needs me back." He sighed. He looked back at you with his baby blues sadly. "I guess I need to go back too." You thought sadly back to your quiet, empty apartment a couple blocks away.

As you slid out of your barstool, Kurt suddenly perked up and hastily grabbed a napkin and pen from the counter, scribbling something up there.

You watched curiously as he finished up, suddenly very shy. "I'm sorry if this is a little too much, but here's my number. I'd like to get to know you more soon if you want." He held out the napkin with surprisingly very neat handwriting on it.

You paused. Do you accept it? Even after everything that's happened to you? Kurt interrupted your thoughts. "If anything ever happens, just give me a call. I promise, you won't be lonely for long." You smiled softly and took the napkin. "Thank you Kurt, that means a lot." Your cheeks pinked up.

The slow hum of a slow country tune played on the jukebox in the corner as Undertaker nursed his third beer. It was late after a RAW show, and he was bone-dead tired.

He was about to call for a fourth when the doors to the bar swung open, and in swaggered a very drunk Chris Jericho. Cocky as ever, he walked right up to the bar and tried to order a fruity cocktail to sip.

Taker grumbled and tried to blend into the shadows a little more. He didn't need this cocky kid interrupting his man time in the bar after a show.

Alas, not being down with darkness anymore, he couldn't quite disappear and caught Jericho's eye.

Jericho smirked and adjusted his disgustingly sparkly open shirt and, to Taker's horror, began walking over to the corner where he sat. Jericho's face was flushed with previous drinks he had obviously consumed and smelled vaguely fruity.

Nauseating.

He stopped right in front of Taker, almost between his legs and touching the bent knee on the barstool he claimed. "Fancy seeing you, Deadman." Jericho purred. Taker noted his blonde hair was tangled and coming out of his usual ponytail.

"Go away, kid." Taker growled. He nudged his leg with his knee. Taker put his beer down and put on a grimace that could make even a bear flee in horror.

Jericho pouted and scooted closer. "How rude." He even stuck a lip out. "Is this seat taken? My legs 're gettin tired from being amazzing all day." And he sat. In Taker's lap.

Taker froze and stared at the drunk blonde that was now occupying his lap. Nobody, and he does think nobody, has ever even tried to cross this line with him.

He didn't move one inch.

The jukebox switched to a more upbeat tune and Jericho started bouncing to the beat. Taker's cheeks slowly started pinking. Was it from embarrassment? The beer? He couldn't tell. Jericho leaned back onto Taker's chest and looked up into his green eyes.

"Can I kiss you?"

Taker almost choked. He wants a kiss?! His mind broke and no answers came to him. Jericho fluttered his eyelashes, trying to be cute.

"Pleeeeaaaassseeeeeee?"

Taker growled. "No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"Dammit no!"

"Just let me kiss you!"

A hand came up to Jericho's neck and his head was forced back.

"You don't jus' come up to a man and ask to kiss him. Now get your sparkly ass off my lap and waltz yourself back to the hotel." Taker was hot. He had Jericho pinned up against the bar now.

Jericho flushed more and he smiled lazily. "Only if you let me kiss you." Taker's hand faltered slightly, but he quickly adjusted it back. Finally, he sighed. "If I let ya, would ya leave me alone?"

The blonde's eyes lit up as he nodded. Taker's hand dropped from his neck. "Jus' the cheek." He whispered, and turned his head.

Jericho watched as more pink came to Taker's cheeks. He made sure to lick his lips before kissing his cheek, nearing his eye. He quickly planted another before Taker could protest.

"Hmpf." Taker looked away and sat back down in his barstool, unpinning Jericho from the bar. Smirking, he adjusted his shirt and stood up. "See ya around, Deadman."