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double-vandammage · 4 months ago

Text

Title: Stripped

Word count: 2,192

Rating: 18+

Ship: Bret Hart x Shawn Michaels

Tags/Warnings: Shawn POV, Jealous!Bret, Strip tease, Pet names, Biting, Anal sex, hand jobs, play fighting

Also posted to my a03: aa_beatrix

Oh my this took a lot out of me. 🫣 I spent many nights wrestling with my thoughts on how to write a sexy strip tease and this was the result. I listened to Cherry Pie by Warrant more times than I care to admit to help move this thing along. It turned out WAY smuttier than my first Hartbreak fic I was originally embarrassed to write. 🥴

I got inspiration from the In Your House: HBK vs. Goldust Dark Match for the WWF Title (10/20/1996). That gave me a mixed bag of emotions and I am still thinking about it. 😵‍💫

Shawn waited for Bret leaning against the side of the ring. The stadium seats were vacant and shrouded in darkness save the overhead lights illuminating the empty ring. The match he had with Goldust was sure to have ruffled a few feathers, including one Hitman. The two had been messing around for months on and off. They would meet in private before, after, and in between various matches or promos. Nothing got Shawn going faster than when Bret would berate him in front of a live audience. Surprisingly enough Bret had made the first move. What began as a fistfight ended with a kiss. Shawn found himself backed into a wall, preparing for a punch. Instead he was met with Bret’s lips on his. It was lust at first fight.

“Quite the show you put on with Goldie.” came Bret’s low voice from out of the shadows. Shawn smiled, eyeing Bret’s delicious frame striding down the entrance aisle. “Aw, you know Goldie ain’t mean nothin’ by it.” he grinned. Bret placed his hands on either side of Shawn, bracing himself with the edge of the ring. “You kissed him.” Bret said, those dark eyes searching him. “All part of the act, sugar.” Shawn drawled, hooking his fingers into the belt loops of Bret’s jeans, and tugging him closer. He moved in for a kiss, but Bret was quick to grab a handful of hair to stop him. Shawn let out a sharp hiss in response. “Not so fast boytoy.” Bret commanded, swiftly twisting Shawn around to face the ring. “Someone needs to teach you a lesson…get in the ring.” he growled into Shawn’s ear, nipping at the skin.

Shawn hurriedly jumped up and rolled under the ropes, standing to lock eyes with the Hitman. Bret began to leisurely make his way around the ring, never breaking his focus with Shawn. “Take off your clothes.” he demanded cooly. Bret was never usually this forward and never asked him to strip. May have had something to do with his entrance. Maybe. “Really?” Shawn asked, eyebrows raised. Bret stopped, “Now.” he ordered. “Well okay darlin’.” Shawn beamed, moving center stage. He wasn’t used to a party of one and no music, but who was he to argue with Bret The Hitman Hart?

He watched as Bret pulled a chair from under the ring, setting it up in the aisle. He had strategically placed the chair just before the overhead lights, obscuring the older man from Shawn’s view. Shawn shrugged out of his jacket first, swinging it a few times before letting it fly. Slowly he undid his belt buckle, gliding the strap from his waist. He paraded around as he usually did, untucking his t-shirt and giving Bret just a peak of his chest and stomach before covering back up. He removed his hair tie, giving his head a few good shakes to show off his soft blonde hair. Shawn knew how much Bret secretly salivated over how his lengthy hair would cascade past his shoulders and down his back.

He fell to his knees, bringing his t-shirt back up to expose his stomach and chest again, placing the hem of the t-shirt in his mouth. Unfastening the button and zipper of his jeans, he leaned back to then kick off his boots. Bret remained reserved, continuing to hide in the black. “You can join me anytime Bret baby.” he cooed, shedding his t-shirt and flinging it to the side. He lied down, stretching out on the mat, and began to sluggishly peel off his jeans. He slid his boxers down just enough for Bret to admire the cut of his hips. “Leave 'em on.” Bret said sharply, voice echoing. “Ya wanna take ‘em off cowboy?” Shawn teased, biting his lower lip. The chair Bret was sitting in, scraped across the floor as he stood up. Shawn’s heart began to race with anticipation as Bret approached him, his dick already hard.

Bret entered the ring in between the ropes, kneeling to crawl towards Shawn, and moving among his legs. He kissed his knee, beginning a careful ascent with his lips to his thigh and hip. Bret’s fingers dug into the waistband of his boxers, pulling them only to expose the heart tattoo above his ass. Shawn was well aware of Bret’s stance on his tattoos, he heard it regularly during the show but now he only seemed too pleased to see it. Bret licked at the tattoo, tenderly sucking at the skin. He shifted back to kiss his inner thighs, taunting Shawn’s erection. His breath caught as Bret bit down on his flesh. “Holy Jesus, don’t keep me waiting.” Shawn begged, his hands finding Bret’s mess of hair, trying to guide him towards his dick. Instead Bret rose to a standing position, holding Shawn’s legs in the air. “Oh shi-, oh come on!” he managed to squeak out before he was forced and curled into a sharpshooter.

Shawn felt his back scream as Bret contorted his body and held fast with his most notorious move. “Fuckin’ ow.” he wheezed, scrabbling against the mat. Bret gritted his teeth, adamant in keeping Shawn stuck. “How you doin’ boytoy?” he asked, mocking. Shawn smiled, “Jokes on you mark man, I’m only getting more turned on.” Bret squeezed, tightening his hold. “Is that so?” he freed Shawn, allowing his legs to flop to the floor. Not wasting any time, Bret flipped him; his back smacking harshly into the mat. Bret pried off Shawn’s boxers, nearly tearing them to reveal his slick and pulsing member. “He sure is happy to see ya.” Shawn said, highly amused. Hastily in an effort to avoid another opening for Bret, he knocked Bret’s feet out from under him, and caught him in a headlock.

“Fuck.” Bret snarled. “Not much fun being on the receiving end huh?” he jabbed. Shawn knew he would much prefer for Bret to be inside him right about now, but holding him in a naked headlock was too good. He could practically feel Bret’s seething annoyance. “Are you ready to play nice?” he asked, continuing his solid grip on Bret’s neck. “Not quite.” he grunted, slithering out of his grasp to firmly wrench Shawn’s arm up and behind his back. Again he found himself face first into the mat, Bret letting his full weight rest on top of him. “Ah– god damn.” he panted into the ground. Bret leaned down, kissing the length of his shoulder and running his tongue up the side of his throat. He sank his teeth into his skin, biting him again. Shawn winced, a mix of pain and delight flooding his body.

Bret fumbled around for his jacket pocket, withdrawing a condom and small tube of lubricant. “Such a boy scout.” Shawn groaned, as Bret began to work him open, inserting his fingers leisurely one by one. He could sense Bret’s impatience, wanting badly to punish him. He closed his eyes, listening to the shuffle of Bret undoing his pants and pushing them down. He inhaled sharply as he felt Bret enter him. Bret let his head fall onto Shawn’s back, his breath hot against his flesh. He kept one hand attached to Shawn’s hip while the other continued to contain his arm behind his back. Bret sank into him slowly at first with each thrust becoming more and more vigorous. “Bret baby…” he whined, reaching to touch his own leaking cock.

“I don’t think so.” Bret said, bending Shawn’s arm to join the other; preventing any further movement. “Oh fuck you.” Shawn moaned with agony. He squirmed under the weight of the Hitman driving his dick deeper, keeping his rhythm unrelenting. The side of his cheek rubbed into the mat as he turned to whip away his long hair clinging from his face. His body was already drenched with sweat. After what felt like an eternity of depriving the desperate ache between his legs, Bret began a rapid stroke to match the pace of his hips. Shawn’s body turned weak, unable to sustain the arch in his back. He had no more snarky remarks left, he was reduced to whimpering nonsense.

“Jesus, you feel so good.” Bret gasped. Shawn was in a haze, Bret’s motions becoming more erratic as he pounded into him. He felt Bret’s teeth rake at his shoulder, biting down harshly and grunting a string of obscenities as he came. Shawn yelped over the sudden sting at his shoulder, it was definitely going to leave a mark. The sensation would only fuel his pleasure, threatening to throw him off the edge. Bret licked at the fresh wound he inflicted, causing Shawn’s heart to stutter. “Motherfucker-…” he choked, his face still rigid against the mat. Bret remained inside of him, dick pulsing. Shawn’s arms were released, sore from being restrained. He steeled himself as Bret kept him propped on his knees. Bret continued to pump his cock, his cadence turning torturously slow.

Shawn thrashed around in a frenzy, his hips bucking into Bret’s fist. He knew as another form of punishment, Bret was only going to let Shawn cum on his terms. Bret lowered their bodies to relax onto the mat so he could nuzzle his face into the back of Shawn’s head. “You gonna behave?” Bret muttered, his words muffled through Shawn’s damp hair. “God no.” Shawn exhaled, ready to blow through his fervent euphoria. His answer to his amazement was well received as Bret quickened his strokes. He believed Bret inwardly relished his constant disobeyment, otherwise they wouldn’t be fucking around like they were.

Bret held Shawn in place as he came, white strands coating his palm and dripping onto the ring. Shawn was instantly flipped over to face him, as if Bret wanted to admire his work. He knew his face was flushed, hair wet and wild. His body trembling as he tried to adjust from the convulsions of his orgasm. Shawn met Bret’s stare, his eyes conveying possibly something more than just lust. Bret ran his fingertips along the bite mark he had indented on his neck, “Shit…” he said concerned. They typically hid their bites and bruises well, but they weren’t always careful. Occasionally and usually Shawn had to be creative with his wardrobe to conceal their enthusiasm. “Don’t worry about it.” Shawn said, bringing his hand up to caress the skin of Bret’s forearm.

Bret rolled off of Shawn to lie flat on his back. They never spent much time together afterwards, it was always just sex and nothing more. Shawn moved to his side, propping a hand behind his head to rest on his elbow. He reached out to wipe the sticky hair from Bret’s forehead. He knew he was lingering too long as he began to trace the outline of his face, his fingers languidly smoothing Bret’s bottom lip. Bret shied away from his touch, “Stop Shawn…” he said, his voice horse. “Okay.” Shawn said as he watched Bret hoist his pants back up. He selfishly wondered if Bret was sleeping with anybody else backstage. Shawn reached for his discarded boxers and slipped them back on. Bret was usually the one to bounce as soon as his appetite was satisfied. Shawn found he was longing for some semblance of affection from the older man.

“I gotta go.” Bret stated, straightening his clothes. Shawn in a bleak attempt to keep Bret just minutes more, grabbed the lapels of Bret’s jacket to drag him forward. Shawn’s lips were starving for a kiss he was denied. To his surprise Bret returned the kiss, his hands on Shawn’s waist pulling him closer. They kissed until both of their lips were red and swollen. Bret broke away first, their breathing shallow. Shawn held fast to Bret’s jacket, urging him to stay. “Bret…I-” he stammered. Bret gently pushed his hands away, his mouth forming a hint of a smile. “Gotta go.” he repeated. Shawn sighed, his hands fidgeting. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.” He watched as Bret departed through the ropes, jumping to the floor. Shawn followed, but stopped short in front of the ropes. He leaned over, watching Bret’s shape disappear into the darkness of the arena. He foolishly hoped Bret would reconsider and choose to spend the rest of the night in his hotel room.

He never expected their relationship to become more than just casual. If anything, he thought Bret would form an attachment first. The Heartbreak Kid with a broken heart. Total bullshit. He collected the rest of his clothing and got redressed outside the squared circle. The overhead lights were suddenly too bright and too hot. Time to go. He gave the ring one last glance, the remnants of their affair still drying on the mat. Shawn snickered quietly, shaking his head. It wasn’t the first time he had a sexual encounter in the ring and it certainly wouldn’t be the last. He was also never sure he and whomever he was with was completely alone either, but he didn’t care.

Shawn made his own way out of the arena, already scheming on how best to infuriate his Hitman in a match once again.

#fanfic #fic #a03 #hartbreak #bretshawn #bret hart x shawn michaels #goldust (mentioned)#wwf ships #ns/fw #smut

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