TITLE: I Hate You, My Love
CHARACTERS: Bret ‘Hitman’ Hart, ‘HBK’ Shawn Michaels
PAIRING: Bret Hart/Shawn Michaels
NOTES: This is all written from Shawn’s POV, and he is non-religious for the sake of this story.
DISCLAIMER: I do not, and I repeat, DO NOT, own these two men. They are used for mine and other’s reading pleasure.

I lay awake, glancing down to the man next to me. My rival, my love. It’s hard to believe that just this morning, we couldn’t stand each other. Shall I review?
 

This morning, a warm morning in…whatever-the-hell town we’re in. I guess we’re in Canada somewhere. Well, I had been stretching in front of the hotel, both legs, my arms, you know, the usual. Well, the usual for a sexy man named Shawn Michaels. Okay, Michael Shawn Hickenbottom, but still, same thing. Now, that’s me if you didn’t know.
 

Okay, so I was stretching, getting ready for my morning run, when who should run by, but my old rival, Bret Hart. He’s like, 48 or 49 now, but, gosh, I never realized just how hot he was. He was wearing old cut-off navy sweatpants and a white wife-beater. I could tell he had iPod headphones in, but that didn’t bother me. I shoved my own headphones in and took off, a few steps behind the older man.
 

I didn’t think he had noticed me, but I shouldn’t have doubted ol’ Bret. He began running…fast! I ran faster, also. Of course, I’m still faster, even after all these years.
 

Soon, I was right up next to him. He let a glare come from the corner of his eyes and suddenly stopped. I skidded a few more inches, but went right back to him. My iPod had been playing on shuffle through our whole little chase.
“Hey, Bret!” I managed to pant. “How’s it hanging?”
 

He gave me a look and forced out “Fine until you showed up.”
 

Okay, now that kinda hurt. But, hey, c’mon, he couldn’t still hate me after all these years. It’s been forever. Well, ten years. Why hasn’t he just given it up and stopped his idiocy?
 

“Nice to see you, too.” I replied, sounding more hurt than I intended to.
 

“Did I say it was nice to see you? No, because it’s not nice to see you.” He said, pulling his headphones out of his ears.
 

Well, that wasn’t very nice. See, I’m here trying to be friendly and he’s not trying at all.
 

“Bret, why do you still hate me? It’s been ten years. You act like it happened yesterday. I really don’t get it sometimes.”
Bret just glared at me, shoving his headphones back in. He turned and ran, this time in the other direction. I was just about to follow when he shouted, “Don’t follow me, Shawn!”
 

Fine, fine be that way. I’ll go sit on this bench here…or…I smiled as a thought formed. I knew where his house was, I had passed it many times while riding with Benoit. He always pointed it out.
 

I hurried back to the hotel and changed, grabbing my keys and hurrying to the mall. I wanted a new outfit, a costume if you will. Just so that I wouldn’t get recognized.
 

It was about an hour later, I was sitting in the driver’s seat of my car, now dressed in a blue button-down shirt and black slacks. I had my long hair pulled up in a bun and into a realistic-looking dark brown wig. It was spiky and short and totally-not-me.
I sighed and put the black-rimmed glasses on the tip of my nose and glanced at myself in the mirror. I didn’t see Shawn Michaels staring back at me. I saw…I never gave myself a name. Okay, how about…I thought hard. Cameron Johnson? Was that a good one? Good enough, I figured, and stomped to the door.
 

I rang the doorbell. A kid, maybe fifteen, sixteen? Answered it. “Hello?” He asked slowly.
 

“Hey, is your dad here?” I replied, giving him a smile.
 

“Uh, yeah, but he’s in the shower. Um…do you want to come in and wait? He should be out soon.” The kid said, leading me into the living room. I took a seat on the black leather couch. “Who are you, exactly?”
 

I looked up, still smiling. “I’m an old friend of your dad’s. We haven’t talked in years; I figured we could finally have a sit down and catch up. The name’s Sh-Cameron. Cameron Johnson.” That was a close one.
 

“Oh, I’m Blade Hart. Bret’s son.” He replied, falling onto the couch next to me.
 

“I’ve heard about you. Good kid.”
 

“Blade?” I heard Bret’s voice upstairs. “Someone here?”
“Uh, yeah, dad. Your old buddy, Cameron?” Blade turned to me as he said my name. I nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.
 

Bret came down the steps, towel wrapped around his fit waist. I could see his powerful legs, his still-muscular chest. He must still work out, right?
 

“I don’t remember any Cameron.” He said, flipping drippy-wet dark hair from his eyes. His eyes were lighter than I remember.
 

Oh my gosh, it’s worse than I thought, he’s frickin’ FINE! I just wanted to tackle him and have my way with him. I wanted to feel him pushing against me, I wanted inside him, I wanted him in me. I needed to start thinking different thoughts before I really did tackle him and play out my fantasies.
 

“Oh, Bret. You should remember me, we used to date, remember?” Oh shit! Why did I say that?!
 

“Uh…um…Cameron? Cameron Michaels?” Bret asked, glaring at me. I’d been found out.
 

“Uh…”
 

“Blade, go to the kitchen, me and Cam have some catching up to do.”
 

Blade nodded at his father’s command, though looked a bit confused at our exchange…or maybe it was the fact that Bret was still in the towel…and only the towel.
 

We sat down, me fidgeting and trying to twiddle my thumbs. I looked at my folded hands as he looked at me.
 

“Michaels, take the damn wig off.” Bret said angrily, ripping it off of my head. Okay, tell me to take it off.
 

He pulled the hair tie out of my bun, flinging it to another part of the room.
 

“You look better like that.”
 

My eyes widened from where they were locked on my lap. Did he really just say that? “Really?”
 

“Yeah. Shawn, you’re a good-looking guy. Why would you hide your good looks under that fake shit?” Bret asked, leaning closer.
 

“Um…I don’t know. I thought it’d be easier to see you if I didn’t look like me…”
 

“I like when you look like you. You look good.” He said, leaning in to gently claim my lips. God, I thought he hated me. But his wet, bare chest hit my clothed one, and all I wanted to do was throw him down and we could fuck each other senseless.
 

Bret pulled back then, cheeks tinted pink.
 

“Bret…why? I…I thought you hated me…” I managed to choke out, looking at his oh-so-sexy towel-wearing body. Please, give me the strength not to cum right now. Please.
 

He smiled. “Well…after our little talk today, I figured, you’d gotten over it, why couldn’t I? It’s been ten long years. We’ve both changed, right? You’re not the same guy you were back then. And that’s when I realized that I loved you.”
 

That stopped me. He…he loved me? Really? I had the sudden urge to lean over and kiss him, hard.
 

Bret willingly accepted my kiss, opening his mouth. He stretched into a laying position on his back. I settled my weight over him, kissing him passionately. My tongue worked with his, licking, playing, and altogether mingling.
 

It was when he had thrown one leg over my waist and let his towel hit the floor that Blade came back in. “Dad? DAD!” He yelled, eyes widening.
 

Bret broke away, looking sheepish. I grinned down at him, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
 

“Blade, Daddy’s…getting reacquainted with his old boyfriend.” Bret smiled and kissed me again. Thankfully, I was still laying over him and Blade couldn’t see his full nudity.
 

“Cameron…Cameron’s Shawn Michaels?” Blade asked incredulously.
 

“Umm…” I said. “Yeah…yeah, I am.”
 

Blade nodded as if he understood. Bret would talk to him later, I was sure.
 

“Well, Dad, um…Rick’s coming and he’s gonna take me out to a concert with the guys, okay?” Blade stated, grabbing Bret’s old pink and black leather jacket from the closet. I noticed that he still had a few of his old wrestling outfits and jackets still hung up in there.
 

“That’s fine. Shawn and me are going to go…do something. I need some help in my bedroom, huh, Shawn?”
 

I smirked, laying a small kiss on his neck. “Of course, sweetheart.”
Blade hurried outside, clearly uncomfortable with the whole scene. Bret led me up the steps and into his room (he’d thankfully wrapped his towel back around his waist). It’s bigger than I thought it would be. His bed is covered in a navy blue comforter and his walls are the color of faded jeans.
 

Bret’s searching hands found the buttons on my shirt, and I realized why I hated button-down shirts…with a burning passion…
 

He must have been an expert at this at one time. Before I could moan, he had my blue shirt on the floor. In one fluid movement, Bret whipped his towel off and locked the door.
 

I drank him in, backing up until the side of the bed hit the back of my knees. I fell gracefully into a sitting position.
 

Bret sauntered across the room, hips swaying lightly. He straddled my lap and lowered his full weight onto my knees.
 

I could only tighten my hands around his hips before he started grinding. With a moan, I pressed my lips to his and felt his hands working my slacks.
 

They were halfway across the room before I could blink. He smiled and massaged the front of my black thong with his fingertips. God, there was precum all over those panties.
 

“Shawn, lay back.” I did as I was told, laying back so he could yank off my underwear. Bret tossed them over his shoulder and turned back to me. He kissed me gently, sitting back and allowing me to take over. I liked being in control.
 

“Bret…” I panted, taking a look down. His manhood was swollen and leaking. “Do…do you have…lube?”
 

Bret nodded with a high-pitched whine. He indicated the bedside table, and sure enough, I found some in the drawer.
 

Slowly, I coated my fingers in the gel and pushed one of his legs back. Bret grunted, but held his leg in place. I gave his stomach a slow rub as I pushed one slicked-up finger into his tight hole.
 

Bret squeezed his eyes shut and barely let out a cry. I shushed him and continued to rub his belly as I thrusted my finger in and out of him.
 

I added a second one when I thought he could take it. The pain in his face was almost too much to bear. I wanted to throw myself down and take his place. I just didn’t want to hurt Bret. Not after all these years.
 

“Bret? Do you want me to stop? I’ll let you do it to me inst-“
 

“No, Shawn. No, I want this. Please…” The last word came out as a broken moan.
 

I sighed, smirking and adding a third finger.
 

Bret let out a low groan and gripped one of my thighs. I gasped, thrusting my fingers harder.
 

“Shawn…I want you…in me…now…please…” Bret panted.
 

I nodded, slicking up my dick with the lube. I placed the tip at his entrance, rethinking myself again. “You’re positive?”
 

“God, yes! Just do it already.” Bret said loudly, sticking his ass out further.
 

I took the opportunity that he presented and pushed my cock into him. It slipped past the ring of muscle and I stopped.
 

Bret gasped, his face a mask of pain. “Keep going!” He forced through clenched teeth.
He seemed very determined to let me do this. I liked it and all, but I really didn’t want to hurt him. Sighing, I pushed in a few more centimeters. He had tears running down his beautiful face, eyes clenched tightly shut.
 

It was tearing my heart out. My Bret, ex-rival turned lover, crying from the pain I was causing him. I felt so bad. I would give anything to take the pain away.
 

“Shawn…please…” He whispered, begging me to keep going. I don’t want to admit it, but he looks so hot when he begs. I might have to make him do it more often.
 

“Bret, please, if it hurts…” I said, concerned.
 

“I don’t give a shit if it hurts. I want you and I want you now.”
 

I sighed, lowering my head. I knew I couldn’t win this battle, so I pushed myself in until I was buried to my balls. God, he felt so good around me.
 

Bret relaxed a little when I stopped, breathing heavily. “Shawn, fuck me.”
 

I smiled, that’s the Bret I knew, completely direct about what he wants.
I pulled out a little and slammed back in. He cried out again, but this cry had a quiet moan at the end. I loved it. Again, I pulled out and pushed in, working up my own awesome rhythm. Bret soon started to slam himself up in time with my thrusting.
I reached down to cup his balls, kneading them firmly. He gasped and, I’m not kidding about this, mewed. He mewed like a happy kitten. I got a kick out of that, rubbing his dick and balls to keep that sound coming in time with my thrusts.
 

Bret ate it up, moaning and carrying on. He couldn’t get enough of my dick.
 

“Tell me you’re my bitch, Bret.” I whispered, leaning over him.
 

He shook his head, unwilling. I stopped my movements, buried deep inside him. With one hand, I squeezed his dick in the most pleasurable way.
 

“I’m your bitch, Shawn!” Bret gasped, face flushing red.
 

“God, yes, baby. Say it again.” I said, continuing my ruthless fucking of his tight little ass. God, Bret has a nice ass.
 

“Shawn, Shawn, I’m your bitch. Please, I’m your bitch.”
 

That made me smile. “You’re a good bitch, Hart. I gotta say that much. You’re a great bitch.”
 

He moaned. “You like being called a bitch, Hitman?”
 

Bret nodded furiously. “God, yes. I love being your bitch, Shawn”
 

I can’t help but smile wider. If only his son could hear this. Daddy Bret wasn’t the tough superhero he always thought he was.
 

“Bret, I’m gonna cum. Do you want that in your ass?” I asked, knowing that it was going there whether he wanted it or not.
 

“Yes, please, claim me, Shawn!”
 

Wow, Bret really does carry on like this. He really wants a man in his life to own him. That is one of the things I never thought I’d hear.
 

I grunted, slamming hard, and I mean hard into him. My seed began to flow, and I rubbed his dick frantically to pull him over the edge with me.
 

With a howl, Bret began to spill over my hands. I caught as much as I could, lifting it to my lips in a toast. I gulped down the majority, licking the remains from my fingers.
 

He finally stopped spazming, giving me a cute little smile.
 

I pulled out, heaving a great groan after quite possibly the best sex of my life. God, I love Bret ‘Hitman’ Hart. He is the best.
 

“Shawn?”
 

“Mmm?” I replied, slithering down between his legs.
 

“Will you…are we…together?”
 

I pondered this for a second. I’d never thought of that before. In my thought, I began to clean the cum from Bret with my tongue. He went back to whimpering and mewling as I cleaned him.
 

“Do you want to be together, Bret?”
 

Bret shrugged. “Well, yeah. I want to be with you. I love you, Shawn Michaels.”
 

That innocent little statement took my breath away. He sounded so sweet and sincere. “Well then, I do believe you’ve just set yourself up for a lifelong date. ‘Cause, baby, I’m not letting you go.” I lied down next to him, enveloping him in my arms. “You’re mine, baby. I love you, too.”
 

Which brings me to now. He fell asleep with a smile on his face. Did I make the right choice? I think so. I need my Bret to live. My love. Forever.