My angel's smiling.

My angel's smiling and my world stops as I take in a smile that is so bright and so sexy. It must be a sin to have a smile that captivating and I'm more than happy to be a sinner and damned for all eternity if it means I get to bask in my angel's sunshine. That smile is usually reserved for me only but after his big win in the ladder match I'll allow him to share it with other people.

He leaves the room without as much as a second glance in my direction but I don't mind. We're not the kind of nauseous couple who need to be constantly touching or caressing each other. Our love is stronger than that. I don't need that constant reassurance and neither does he, we're both confident in each other and our relationship.

I'll admit that I never thought we would be in a relationship. From the moment he returned to RAW after his neck surgery I lusted after him but that's all that I thought it was. Just lust. Just unbridled passion. I pursued him for a one night stand for months, it became a bit of an obsession for me and as soon as the word "Edge" left my mouth all of my friends would make themselves scarce as they'd had enough of my constant pining.

He knocked me back so many times. Every time he said "no" my feelings for him just snowballed until he was all I could think about. I certainly wasn't looking for someone to love but as soon as I realized the depth of my feelings everything became clear. Life itself now had a purpose now that I had an Angel to love. Those months of chasing and being turned down are a great source of amusement to us now. He's never let me forget how hard I had to work to win him over and he is constantly telling me that he doesn't want me. It's that banter that makes me love him so. I've never felt as relaxed and at ease with anyone before.

The animal has been tamed.

Eventually I follow him to his locker room and I can't help the smile that crosses my lips as I remember what had happened last week. It was the week before Wrestlemania, the last show where the hype was at it's highest. It was probably the most important RAW of my career but my mind was concentrated solely on my Angel. I entered the locker room that most of the guys were changing in to prepare for my debate with Hunter and I was pleased to see that I was alone with him.

His delightful body stiffened with expectation when he felt me enter the room. He didn't turn to look at me - he didn't need to. We're so in tune to each other that we can sense each other's presence. I slowly walked towards him and with every step that I took closer my Angel took a step back. It's always like that. He does everything he can to build the anticipation because when we finally touch…

Fireworks is too tame a description.

He quickly glanced around the locker room to make sure there was no audience and sprinted for the door. I got there before him and slammed the door shut. He jumped at the loud echo of the door slamming and shivered with desire when I turned the lock. If he was in any doubt as to what I wanted before then that erased every last one.

My fingers caressed his cheek and all that I wanted was for time to stand still so it could be me and my Angel. Together. Forever.

"Please…" he whimpered, his voice catching in his throat as my fingers danced across his neck and down the bare chest that was so tantalizingly close to me.

His body flinched as the heat of my touch started to affect him and the moan that escaped him as my mouth covered his made me giddy with desire. His hands pressed against my shoulders as he tried to push me away. He always does that. Ever since I told him how hard it makes me when he fights me. My Angel must have a rough streak inside all the sweetness

My tongue teased his as he squirmed in my strong arms. My hands rested on his ass and lightly squeezed the flesh that was encased in skin tight spandex. He pressed himself against me and I could feel the light film of sweat that had started to cover his skin. My Angel was slowly burning inside as I laid him down on one of the wooden benches.

I wanted to worship him. I always want to worship him. I wanted to take my time but a locked locker room does not remain a secret for long so we needed to be quick. After all I have a lifetime to love my Angel. I decided that I'd have to take care of the primal urges that both myself and the walking temptation before me had.

I yanked his tights down and allowed myself to pause for the briefest of moments as I took in his beauty. His hands instinctively lowered to cover his groin but again I was faster and grabbed his wrists. He's so shy and modest about the way he looks. No matter how much I compliment him he doesn't believe me and he's so unbelievably cute when he blushes and hides his face from me.

"Beautiful" I whispered. A single tear rolled from his gorgeous green eyes as my Angel realized the depth of the sentiment and my feelings.

I released my cock from it's prison and allowed him to see how painfully hard I was for him. His eyes widened in shock as they rested on my hardened flesh. His swollen lips parted as if he was trying to say something to me but the sound caught in his throat. I couldn't help but smile as I realized that it was me, me and no one else, that was rendering the beauty before me incapable of speech. As much as I'd have loved to hear my Angel screaming my name in passion I couldn't help but think that maybe silence would have the exact same effect.

I felt my Angel's entire body tense as I slowly pushed inside him. His hips bucked away from the bench but I held him tight and allowed the sensations to wash over me. The feel of such a sacred part of him wrapped tightly around me was nothing short of perfection. At that moment Paradise was nothing more than a dingy locker room somewhere in America.

As I thrusted into his tight heat I could feel his hands gripping my shoulders again, his short ragged nails digging into my skin as he thrashed beneath me. His golden halo of hair was sticking to his beautiful face and I gently brushed it away enjoying the look of pure lust that was evident in his eyes.

His silence was finally broken by an anguished scream of pleasure as my cock brushed against his sweet spot so I poured every ounce of my concentration and strength into repeatedly brushing against that small patch of over sensitized flesh. His death grip on my shoulders increased in pressure and I could tell that he was getting close. He didn't even seem to have the energy to meet my thrusts anymore.

I could feel the familiar fire beginning to burn in my balls as I again buried myself into the confines of my Angel's sweet ass. I stared deeply into his eyes but the intensity of the feeling there must have been too much for him as he quickly turned away from me, biting his bottom lip so hard that he drew blood. I grabbed his chin with my hands as I pressed all of my weight onto him, our faces so close that our noses were pressed together. He screwed his eyes shut as I came harder than I ever had before.

I reluctantly withdrew from him and gently cleaned him up with one of the Wrestlemania XXI T shirts that adjourned the locker room walls. He was so sated and relaxed after our lovemaking that he did not even have the energy to look at me, let alone stand up. I pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead before leaving the locker room, allowing myself one last look at the thoroughly fucked beauty that lay, legs still spread, on the plain wooden bench.

That's my thoroughly fucked beauty of course.

I finally reach the locker room and suddenly I'm back in the present. It's now the day after Wrestlemania and merely the thought of making love to my Angel has me harder than I believed possible. Thanks to the never-ending Wrestlemania promotion I never did get chance to worship my Angel as I had wanted to last week but I'll make up for that tonight. I have a suite booked at the Sheraton tonight for me and my Angel so that we can have a romantic, and private, candlelight dinner followed by a relaxing spa and a night of sweet love making.

I open the locker room and am greeted with congratulatory smiles from several of the guys. I acknowledge the good tidings and back slapping and make my way to the corner of the room that my Angel occupies. He's already dressed in his wrestling gear and is sitting down. His back is against the wall and he has his knees drawn up to his chin. He seems lost in his thoughts and is completely ignoring the rest of the locker room. As I get closer I see that he is wearing this hideous grey jumper. I look closely at the jumper and I suddenly remember what it is.

He bought it years ago, back when he and Christian first started tagging together and were touring the Indies in Canada in the back of a small bus. The death tours I believe they became to be affectionately known as. My Angel bought that jumper because of how warm and comforting it would be while driving through the snow of Canada. It's now completely misshapen after too many years of machine washing a garment that should only be cleaned at low temperatures and almost completely covers him.

If I didn't know better I'd think that he was trying to hide from something - or someone.

"I don't want to talk to you Dave."

Ah, my Angel's finally noticed that I'm standing in front of him. His head is lying on his knees and he wraps his arms around them tighter. His voice is so weak and small that I had to strain to hear him.

"I'm sorry about last week Angel. I've been so busy with Wrestlemania that I didn't get chance to spend any time with you but I'm going to make up for it tonight. I've got everything arranged. Your favorite meal, favorite wine... It'll be perfect."

His head lifts from his knees and are those tears that I can see in his eyes? "I said that I don't want to talk to you. Ever."

I stand shocked as he storms past me, the overlong sleeves of that damn jumper flapping from the speed and fury of his steps. I didn't realize that I'd hurt him so much. I know that it hasn't been easy for us as our schedules have meant that we're spending increasingly shorter amount of times together but I always thought that he understood. My Angel is my priority.

Christian looks at me sympathetically "Don't take it personally Dave, I don't know what's wrong with him. He's been like this since last week. The only thing that's managed to make him smile was his win last night. And I haven't seen him wear that jumper in years. I didn't realize that he still had it."

I nod gracefully at Christian's explanation but my only thought is to find my Angel and try to make amends. I leave the locker room and frantically run down the corridor trying every open door that I can find. Not even the shocked looks of the changing Divas are enough to stop me opening random doors. I can feel the desperation starting to build. I can't lose my Angel. I can't let this wonderful, perfect connection between us be severed for something as mundane as me not showering him with attention.

I want to spend every waking moment worshipping him, loving him, making him mine. I'd happily forgo sleep forever if it meant I was able to dedicate more of my time to the man that controls my heart. My reason for existence is to be with my Angel. Without him I'm nothing. Worthless. Without me he's lost. A naive beauty, vulnerable to the evils and dangers of this world. He needs me. And I need him more than I need the blood in my veins.

The door to the last room in the corridor is slightly ajar and I push it open with such force that I swear I felt the building shake. He's here - sitting on the floor, cowering in the corner as if he's hiding from the Devil himself. Why is none of this making sense? This has to be more than not receiving any attention. What has happened to make my Angel fall from grace?

"Angel?"

My only answer is a muffled sob so I kneel next to him. I long to pull him into my arms as I have done so many times before but I don't know if I should. I nervously stroke his hair with my fingertips and the sob turns into a deafening wail.

"Leave me alone..." he whispers.

"I can't. I love you."

"No you don't!"

My Angel is on his feet now. He stretches a long leg out, as if he was going to step over me but he changes his mind and backs against the wall eyeing me cautiously. Tears are streaming down his porcelain face and his shoulders are shaking as he continues to cry. He makes no attempt to hide his tears. He makes no attempt to move at all. It's as if he's frozen with fear but what can he be scared of? It's just the two of us in this quiet little room and he knows that I would never harm him.

God, he can't be scared of me can he?

"Please Angel, tell me what's wrong..."

"I'm not your fucking Angel! I've never been your fucking Angel!"

"I'm sorry that I didn't spend time with you over the last week but you know how important Wrestlemania was."

I'm standing next to him now and despite the anger in our words I can still feel the heat starting to build. He looks either side of me as he picks at the stitching of his jumper.

"Will you please leave me alone? I'll forget all about last week, I promise I won't tell anyone what happened if you just stop following me."

Sense at last. "I'd like nothing better than to forget about last week and concentrate on spending the rest of my life loving you..."

I caress his cheek but he slaps away my hand. "Don't fucking touch me. I can still feel you on my skin... I scrub and I scrub but the feeling's still there..."

He's muttering under his breath now. I can only watch in stunned silence as he rolls up the sleeves of his jumper and starts frantically scratching at the skin on his forearms. The delicate skin is already red raw but he just continues scratching. Scratching and muttering. I don't think he's aware that I'm here anymore, he's locked inside a world of his own. His behavior is really starting to scare me. What could have happened to make my Angel so nervous?

"..I'm dirty. Unclean. Soiled."

What?

He stops his muttering and scratching and for the first time since I entered the room his eyes lock onto mine. "It's all your fault. You... You did that to me."

And now the tears return. He drops to the floor, a bundle of heartbreaking sobs. My heart wrenches as his pain pours from his eyes. The locker room door opens but I don't even glance behind me to see who's there. I don't care if it's Vince McMahon himself preparing to fire me - my Angel comes first.

Again I reach out to him, attempting to draw him into my arms so I can extinguish his sobs but he pulls away. He wipes away his tears with the sleeves of his jumper but every tear he mops up is replaced by a dozen more. He's unsteady on his feet but he manages to stand again and despite the teary red eyes, the messy hair, the runny nose and ugly jumper he's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

"You did that to me" he repeats.

"I did what?" I ask incredulously. "All I've ever done is love you."

"You don't love me Dave." He glances over my shoulder before continuing. "All you've done is make my life hell these past few months. How many times do I have to tell you that I don't want you? I could never want you."

"Angel..."

"Don't fucking call me Angel!" he screams. "You've harassed me for long enough."

"Harassed? What do you mean? We love each other!"

"I don't love you!"

Why is my Angel saying these hurtful things? What has happened in the space of a week to make him forget all of the things we've said to each other? What about the promises we made, to love, honor and cherish each other? We're meant to be. We belong together.

"What about last week?" I ask. A tone of desperation has crept into my voice but I'd don't care how vulnerable and scared I sound. I just want to make sense of everything. "What about our love making in the locker room?"

"Making love?" he asks as he again looks over my shoulder. He pauses before he says three words that make the Heavens crash from the sky. "You raped me."

I hear a low gasp from whoever is standing behind me but it barely registers in my mind. Why does my Angel think that I raped him? We're in love. He loves me as much as I love him. As we made love last week his eyes showed nothing but pure lust...

"Why are you saying such hurtful things Angel? You love me.."

"The only place that I love you is inside that warped mind of yours. This entire 'relationship' that you think we're having is inside your head! You raped me Dave. Rape. Ugly word, ugly crime."

He side steps around me and into the arms of Christian who slowly leads him out of the room. The little blond takes one last look at me before he closes the door but not even his look of hatred and disgust can hurt me now. There's no part of me left to hurt. My Angel just managed to crush every feeling I had in my body.

But I didn't rape him. He wanted me. He still wants me. His words, the tone of his voice, the tears... They mean nothing. Just a show for Christian. Deep down inside my Angel still burns for me as brightly as he ever did. He's just lost his way. He's fallen into the darkness that desires Angels so strongly and needs me to rescue him, to show him the light.

I can't leave it like this.

I have to win my Angel back.

THE END