Ken Kennedy had a problem. Two problems, technically, but they were currently in the process of giving themselves a single, convenient label.

“How about ‘Morrimiz’?” Miz suggested hopefully.

His boyfriend wrinkled his nose. “That’s awful. ‘Mizorrison’ wasn’t that bad.”

“It sounds like a dinosaur,” Miz whined. “We might as well be ‘Mizorrisaurus Rex’ or something.”

John sighed. “Our names start with the same letter. It shouldn’t be that hard to merge them.”

It shouldn’t be that hard to dress for a match, either, but watching the lovebirds in the corner chatter had raised Ken’s blood pressure to a dangerously high level. Unfortunately, death by a thousand ruptured blood vessels remained elusive, so Ken was forced to search for alternative means of suicide as John and Miz debated the potential of “Morrizanin.”

It wasn’t that he wasn’t a romantic, really. Ken loved a ‘happily ever after’ story as much as the next guy. It was mostly just annoyance at the self-absorption of the happy couple as they kissed in the corner, blissfully unaware of the impatience radiating off the wrestlers who had actually showed up to wrestle that night.

Every night, Ken mentally amended. His lack of a love life had done wonders for his backstage concentration over the last several months. If he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit he felt a microscopic twinge of jealousy as he watched Miz’s hand slide possessively up John’s thigh, barely—

“Hey, Ken.” Ken jumped as Brian Kendrick collapsed onto the bench next to him. “It works better if you wrap as you go.”

Ken stared at the athletic tape he had been unconsciously unwrapping, stretched in a straight line in front of him. “I was seeing how much I had left,” he explained.

“You need more?”

Ken nodded. “If I’m going to cover both my eyes and my ears, I’ll need a lot more.” He pointed towards Miz and Morrison to clarify.

Brian glanced at them, then back to Ken. “It would probably take less tape just to strangle yourself.” Ken snorted, and Brian paused slightly before continuing, “Not that I’m suggesting you do that. It’d be a shame for you to kill yourself on your lucky day.”

“My lucky day?” Ken asked, his curiosity piqued.

Brian nodded. “I’ve decided to let you take me out. On a date,” he added in response to Ken’s stunned expression.

Awed by the sheer egotism of the offer, Ken searched Brian’s expression for a sign he might be teasing. Brian tossed his head, whipping the dirty blond hair out of his eyes, and met Ken’s gaze coolly. His breathing was calm and measured, and Ken got the impression that Brian had no doubt of the answer.

“I don’t think—“ Ken started and then cut himself off, surprised at the lack of reaction on Brian’s face. Disappointment registered at the abbreviated denial, but no sign of protest and no trace of surprise. “I don’t think I can do it tonight,” Ken finished. “Are you free tomorrow?”

Ken’s surprise at his own response was mirrored by Brian’s expression before he masked it with a confident grin. “I doubt it, but I’ll switch some things around,” he stated airily. “Plan on picking me up at 9:00.”

Ken nodded wordlessly, fighting the urge to pinch himself as he watched Brian stand up and walk away.

He didn’t even notice when Miz and Morrison left the room in search of more privacy.

“Let’s get out of here.”

“Mmm?” Brian wrapped his arms around Ken’s hips, pulling them flush together as he swayed to the pounding music.

“Let’s get out of here,” Ken repeated into Brian’s ear, inhaling the soft citrusy scent of his blond curls.

“Yeah, this place sucks,” Brian agreed readily, somewhat to Ken’s surprise. “Let’s bail.” Grabbing his date’s hand, Brian threaded his way to the crowd, spilling out the door into the warm summer night.

“So where to?” Brian asked, flashing a grin that reflected the neon glow of the nightclub sign. “And it better be somewhere good. That was one of my favorite clubs.”

“You just said it sucked,” Ken pointed out.

“It does, but it’s pretty damn hard to find a place that lives up to my standards.”

“Brat. This way.” Ken pulled Brian away from his car and down the street, heading closer to downtown.

Brian followed obediently, seemingly content to allow Ken to continue holding his hand. “We’re heading away from all the lights,” he observed a few blocks later.

“We are,” Ken agreed, suddenly stopping outside a closed gate. “I think this is it.”

Brian raised an eyebrow skeptically, straining in the dark to make out the words on the sign posted outside the gate. “This is the city zoo. And they closed hours ago.”

“Yep. You need a boost?” Ken offered, nodding to the gate.

“Why on earth would I climb a gate to break into a city zoo at 2:00 in the morning?”

“If you’re scared of getting caught, you don’t have to come. I want to wander around a little, though.”

Brian snorted. “I’m not scared, as you very well know. I just don’t see the need of hanging around a lot of sleeping animals in cages when we could be finding a party that…come on, get back here,” he pleaded as Ken disappeared over the top of the gate.

Ken was leaning against a nearby signpost by the time Brian vaulted the gate himself, landing with a heavy thump. “Took you long enough,” Ken smirked.

Brian shot him a glare. “I tore my pant leg on one of the hooks up there. You are ruining my clothes as well as my night. And you could at least act surprised that I followed you.”

“I could, but why bother?” Ken laughed, grabbing Brian’s hand again. “Come on. I bet the lemurs are still awake.”

An hour later, Ken and Brian were seated on a man-made boulder watching a surprisingly energetic dolphin swim laps in the pool below them. “This is what you wanted to see so bad you dragged me away from my favorite club?” Brian demanded.

“Mmmhmm,” Ken agreed, leaning back and watching the moonlight glow on the planes of Brian’s face. “And I didn’t exactly drag you away. Why did you ask me out?” he asked quickly, cutting off Brian’s argument.

“I was raised to be nice to those less fortunate,” Brian quipped.

“Bullshit,” Ken said, smiling. “You didn’t think I was going to come. Why’d you ask?”

Brian shrugged, turning to watch the dolphin as he thought. “You were worth asking,” he finally answered.

“But you could’ve asked anybody,” Ken pressed. “Any one of the guys would’ve jumped at the chance to—“

“I know that,” Brian interrupted. “I don’t care. I don’t want to be a fling, and I don’t want to be a couple. Do you realize you haven’t even told me how good I look yet?”

Ken laughed out loud, the sound echoing in the silence of the night. “You don’t need me making your head any bigger than it is.”

“That’s exactly my point. I don’t need you to feed my ego. And let’s face it, you’re an arrogant bastard, too, so you don’t need me feeding yours. You can stand up to my vanity, and I can stand up to your self-centeredness. I think we can work without, you know, completely absorbing each other. You and me, not necessarily us.”

“You and me, huh?” Ken raised his face to the sky as he considered it. “Yeah, I kind of like the sound of that. One problem, though…I don’t think you’re nearly as cocky as you let on.”

Brian lifted an eyebrow. “And you’re not half as much of an asshole as you like to pretend. I’m willing to overlook it for now.”

“Thanks,” Ken chuckled. “I’ll start working on it tomorrow.”

“Hey, Ken,” Brian announced three weeks later as he bounced into the otherwise empty locker room. “Got a surprise for you.”

"Laryngitis?" Ken guessed hopefully.

Brian immediately launched into a fit of overdramatic, knee-slapping laughter, finally calming himself and wiping an imaginary tear away from one eye. "No," he answered flatly, prompting Ken to roll his eyes. "And you're extremely lucky it's not."

"Yeah, how so?"

"Well..." An evil grin spread across Brian's face. "Because if I couldn't talk, you would be forced to make conversation with Miz and Morrison all on your own tonight. And we know how mean those big, bad bullies can be," he finished with a mocking pout.

Ken snorted. "And why would I be making conversation with Miz and Morrison again?"

"Because we're double-dating tonight. So try not to wear something that makes you look like a total tool, OK?"

"Not so fast, Princess," Ken barked, catching Brian's wrist just as he turned to the door. Brian turned around expectantly, the innocence in his eyes greatly diminished by his smile. "There is no way," Ken stated firmly, "you're talking me into spending my incredibly precious free time with those two morons. And besides, I already bought us two tickets to the movies tonight."

Brian yanked his wrist away, eyes narrowing at the challenge in Ken's words. "Oh, yeah?" Almost instantly, he was straddling Ken, grinding slowly against the thin material of Ken's wrestling tights. He smirked as Ken inhaled sharply, fingernails digging into flesh of his thighs. Leaning forward, he whispered, "Thinking about changing your mind yet?" before nipping sharply at Ken's earlobe.

"Not thinking about much of anything, to be honest," Ken admitted, pulling Brian's hips down against his rapidly hardening erection.

“Not with the big head, at least,” Brian snickered, pulling back just far enough that he could look Ken in the eyes. “I do have ways of making you give me what I want, you know.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” With one last kiss, Brian slid off Ken’s lap, stepping back into the center of the room. “You ready?”

“I am fully braced for your persuasiveness,” Ken assured him.

“Good. I’d hate to catch you off-guard. It seems cheap.” Eyes locked on Ken’s, Brian slowly peeled off his white ring jacket, dropping it deliberately on the floor.

Ken burst into laughter. “Your persuasion technique is a strip-tease?”

Brian shook his head, unfazed. “No teasing, just stripping. I trained under Shawn Michaels, remember? It’s done wonders for his career.” Bending over, Brian worked on unlacing his boots.

“I imagine it has,” Ken murmured, distracted despite himself by the long lines of Brian’s legs. “So you’re just going to get naked and expect me to give you whatever you want?”

“That’s the way it usually happens, yeah,” Brian agreed casually, peeling off one boot after the other. “Either they give me what I want so I’ll stay naked, or they give me what I want so I’ll get more naked, or they give me what I want so I’ll put my clothes back on. I talked a first class plane ticket out of the Undertaker that way once.” Hooking both thumbs in the waistband of his tights, Brian paused. “I normally start with more clothes so that they have more time to think about it.”

“Too bad,” Ken grinned up at him. “Drop ‘em.”

With an unceremonious shrug, Brian shucked his tights, stepping out of them as Ken’s eyes widened. He turned around once, slowly, smiling at the hitch in Ken’s breath. “Did I win?”

“I…” Ken made a conscious effort to look Brian in the eye, and failed utterly. “I forgot what we were arguing about.”

Brian laughed, stepping closer and dropping into a crouch between Ken’s legs. “You were about to give me whatever I wanted.”

Ken nodded, fingers digging into the bench with the effort of remaining still. “That doesn’t sound like much of an argument.”

“It wasn’t. I am extremely disappointed in your debating skills,” Brian informed him, eyes sliding down to rest on the bulge in Ken’s pants. “Although I have to say, I’m starting to change my mind on what it is that I want, exactly.”

“Well,” Ken started, clearing his suddenly dry throat. “Since you won the argument, I think I have to give you whatever it is you want, so as soon as you make up your mind—“

“Oh, my mind’s made up,” Brian purred, reaching up to unzip Ken’s pants.

“Jesus Christ,” Ken moaned, his head falling back as Brian reached into his slacks, sliding a hand around his erection and pulling it out of his underwear. “Bri, listen. I don’t want you to do this just so I’ll agree to go to some stupid dinner with you. If you’re not ready, I don’t—“

“You don’t want me to do this?” Brian asked innocently, rubbing his thumb over the head of Ken’s cock.

“Fuck yes, I want you to do that!” Ken yelped, firmly grabbing Brian’s wrist to stop him. “But not to win an argument.”

Brian pulled his wrist away, easily breaking Ken’s grip, then wrapped his hand around the base of Ken’s cock, stroking slowly as he spoke. “Ken. Trust me. Winning the argument was just icing.” Spotting the precum already beginning to form, Brian giggled and lapped at it, adding, “Or maybe the argument was the cake, and this is just icing. Either way.”

Ken moaned and squeezed his eyes closed, unable to watch Brian’s face without losing control completely. Brian immediately took control, pushing Ken’s legs open wider and finding a more comfortable spot on his knees before sinking down, pulling up with his hand to meet his mouth before sliding back and starting again. He established a fairly quick rhythm, peppered with pauses to lick the underside of Ken’s cock.

Ken kept his teeth clenched, focusing on controlling his breathing to avoid triggering too quickly. He reached out a shaky hand to pet Brian’s hair and was rewarded with a quick smile, the teeth suddenly scraping gently down his shaft making him squirm. Brian instantly covered his teeth with his lips, and Ken gasped, his hips arching towards Brian’s mouth of their own volition.

Brian moaned encouragement as the pace picked up, and the vibrations from the sound raced up Ken’s shaft. The sensation shook Ken’s already tenuous control, and his hips sped up, pushing forward into Brian’s throat until a rush of warmth swept through his body. He shuddered hard as he came.

Brian swirled his tongue around Ken’s over-sensitized cock one last time, gathering up any remaining traces of semen before pulling back with a grin. “I like winning.”

“I like you winning, too,” Ken panted, then gestured towards Brian’s semi-hard erection. “Let me return the favor?”

“Some other time,” Brian suggested, crawling over to retrieve his ring gear. “I’ve got to wrestle in a little bit, and I don’t want to be all exhausted.”

“I’ve got a match, too, you know,” Ken pointed out dryly.

“Yeah, but you’re already so slow, nobody’s going to notice. So, dinner at 10:00, OK?”

“Got it. Just the four of us, or are there other victims lined up?”

Brian grinned and shook his head. “Nope, just Morrizanin and The Kennedrick.”

“The Kenne-what?”

“Kennedrick. Miz came up with it.” Brian paused before offering an uncertain half-smile. “I know we didn’t want to be a couple or anything, and you can tell him not to use it if you want, but I’ve gotta admit, it’s kind of catchy.”

“The Kennedrick,” Ken repeated, grinning at the flash of hope in Brian’s eyes. “Yeah. I like the sound of that.”