Michael's POV

*********************

Stolen Moments
      -Khylara

"Damn it!" I looked over just in time to see Peter rip off his tie
and fling it to the floor.  "That's the fifth time I've tried to knot
that stupid thing."

Smiling, I picked up the offending piece of silk and went over to
him.  "Here.  Let me try."  The material slid through my fingers
effortlessly as I knotted it and tucked it into place.  "How's that?
Too tight?"

"Nah.  That's good."  He turned back to the mirror, smoothing a hand
over his mostly bald head.  "I feel like an idiot in this get-up."

My smile turned into a grin as I moved behind him and slid my arms
around his waist.  "You look wonderful," I admired.  The tuxedo fit
him perfectly, which was pretty remarkable considering his build and
the fact it was a rental.

Peter turned, pulling me into his arms.  "And you look gorgeous,
babe," he said, making a show of looking me over.  His hands slid
down my back, going under my jacket to cup my ass.  "I like you beter
out of it, though."

I blushed.  "Didn't you get enough when you jumped me in the shower?"
I asked teasingly, a shiver running through me as I remembered the
feel of those large, insistant hands on my body.

He nuzzled my ear as he pressed himself against me, making sure I
could feel his erection.  "Never get enough of you," he murmurred,
gently nipping at my earlobe.

I sighed as my own hand cupped the back of his head.  He knows doing
that drives me absolutely crazy.  "Peter...we can't," I
breathed.  "There's not enough time."

"You don't wanna say no, do you, Mikey?" he purred, one hand moving
to the front of my pants, cupping my crotch.

I bit back a groan, my knees suddenly weak. Peter was now beyond
crazy and was now making me insane just by calling me Mikey.  Why?
Because he's the only one who does and he only does it when we're
alone.  That nickname is his, and his only.

Of course, the fact that he was feeling me up with those wonderful
hands of his wasn't helping matters any, either.

"Have to," I gasped as he moved to my neck, licking at the pulse
point.  "The Hardys and Lita are going to bere any minute...we have
to get ready for Heat..."  My body bucked in his arms and this time
my groan was audible.  "Peter!"

He drew away enough to meet my eyes, his own dark ones sparkling
mischeviously.  "You sure you want me to stop?"

"Don't want you to," I managed to get out.  "but you have to.  We
can't be late tonight."

Now it was his turn to sigh.  "I hate it when you're right, you know
that?" he commented as he reluctantly drew away.

"I don't much like it, either," I said as I sagged against the
dresser for support, trying to will myself back under control.  I
wasn't going to be much use on Heat if I was cross-eyed and blurry
with arousal.

"I really got you all hot and bothered, didn't I?" Peter asked.
Without waiting for an answer, he pulled me back into his arms, this
time simply holding me close.  "Hell, babe, I'm sorry.  I didn't mean
to tease ya."

I relaxed into the embrace.  "It's okay," I said, closing my
eyes.  "Usually I love it when you tease me like that."

He chuckled.  "That's 'cause usually I follow through."

We held eachother for I don't know how long, not saying anything,
just enjoying the closeness.  Moments like this are rare for us -
both of us are pulled in a dozen different directions on a regular
basis that there are days when we only see eachother first thing in
the morning and last thing at night.  Add in the fact that our love
is still a secret in so many ways for so many reasons...well, you get
the idea.

We've learned to deal with it, though.  We've had to in the four
months we've been lovers.  A lot of time we just have whatever moment
we can steal, but we've learned to make the most of them.  Things
like a shared look as we pass eachother in the halls, or holding
hands under the announcer's table, or the kiss we always manage to
sneak just before we go out on stage.  It's not enough, but sometimes
those little shared moments make everything we go through
worthwhile.  I know they keep me sane.

Peter drew away enough to meet my eyes and by the look on his face I
could tell that he had needed that little bit of sanity, too.  "So
damn beautiful," he murmurred, brushing a finger along the edge of my
beard.  "I love you, Mikey.  So damn much."  He paused, a worried
look suddenly crossing his face.  "You know that, right?"

"I know," I said softly, laying my own hand on his cheek, mirroring
his gesture.  He needs the reassurance once in awhile, and to be
honest, sometimes I need it, too.  There are days when I wake up and
I still can't believe what I've found in this man's arms.  "I love,
you, too.  So much."  I sighed, my heart aching.  "I wish..."

I coudn't finish, but Peter nodded in complete understanding. "I
know, babe."  The same longing look that I knew was on my face was on
his.  "I know.  I wish, too."  Cupping the back of my head, he drew
me into a gentle kiss.

I was in the process of wrapping my arms around his neck when a knock
interrupted us.  We both scowled at the door, more than a little
resentful.  "So much for a moment to ourselves," Peter commented, the
bitterness obvious in his voice.

"There'll be more," I said softly.  An idea suddenly popped into my
head.  "Your match is early.  Why don't we try to find a quiet corner
later?"

Peter snorted.  "Good luck with that during Wrestlemania. Besides,
you deserve more than a corner."  He paused, thinking.  "We could
always sneak out early and come back here."  he suddenly grinned.  "I
could finish what I started."

"Or we could start something else."  I grinned as well.  "I like that
idea."

"You do, huh?"  His hands were suddenly back on my ass.  "I got a
couple other things you like, too."  Before I could stop him he
captured my lips in a kiss that took my breath away.

Just then there was another knock on the door, this one much louder
than the first.  "Hey, you two!" Jeff Hardy's voice was
unmistakable.  "Put your clothes on and get it in gear!  We're gonna
be late!"

Peter broke away with a curse.  "Rainbow Brite's gonna get it if he
keeps it up," he complained as he let me go.  "He won't have to
worry about the Dudleys putting him through a table; I'll do it!"

I couldn't help laughing as I went to answer the door.  This moment
was over, but there would always be more.