A/N: Alright, this is different from what I normally write, but a me and couple of my good friends, one Layfield Vice and one Wrestlefan4 do prompts. All it is you take a word and write a few sentences centering about the word. Kinda like a mini story. I was surfing through my old docs and ran across these and added a few that we did just a couple nights ago. There'll be more. I have a large prompt list to work on. Not to mention that I'll be posting some GAM and Kourne Prompts as well. Anyways, I hope y'all enjoy and get a few laughs.

Voice: The room was eerily quiet; one could even say that they could have heard a pin drop. But to the lone occupant, it was alive with screaming. Some of it female and some of it male. He grabbed his head in frustration but the sounds wouldn't leave him, and soon his screaming joined the rest that was only in his head.

Dismiss: He stood in the doorway with his mouth hanging wide open in disbelief. How dare that bastard treat him that way; waving his hand in a degrading shooing manner as he told him to go play in traffic or something. With a grumble he started towards the car, vowing to leave his ass at the arena.

Save: "What in the hell.." He grumbled as he surfed through his files. He knew that it had to be in there somewhere. With a growl he snapped the laptop closed, glaring across the room at his lover whom was snickering at him. "What's so damned funny?" He snapped, his blue eyes blazing. "Nothing." Still the red headed man continued to laugh, finally drawing the other to the bed where he pinned him down, growling in annoyance. The older man pulled him into a toe curling kissing, laughing once more when he pulled away. "You saved our schedule on a flash drive."

Leave: Cold. That would be the one word that he'd pick to describe how he felt. Alone would be another word. The room was too quiet; he couldn't sleep. He rolled out of bed and moved around the room, looking for some shred of his lover. There was none, he had taken all his things when he disappeared during the show. He ambled into the bathroom and grabbed a razor from his bag; hissing as it bit against skin. He slowly sank from consciousness, his life's blood puddleing on the floor beneath him.

Evidence: Glen drifted in and out of consciousness, his body on fire when he was lucid and deliciously numb during the blackness; he had an idea of who had done this to him and knew that when he was finally able to think clearly he'd find the calling card on his body, marking his attacker.

Blackboard: Mark sat in the room bored, wondering why Vince had called him to a meeting where there was no one other than himself and an empty blackboard. His eyes darted to the door when he heard it open and he immediately started to pant when Glen came in dressed as the teacher--chalk in one hand and a smirk on his face.

Superstitions: Glen rolled his eyes and watched as his lover raced around their room looking for the one thing that he thought guaranteed him a victory at Wrestlemania--his damned hat. And not for the first time did Glen try to talk sense to him, but like they say, you can't teach an old dog new trick or erase old superstitions.

Strawberries: Mark eyed the red berries with trepidation, in the carton they were harmless but once he got them home and washed, it was like opening the gates to hell. One bite and his lover would be a whimpering horny mess that wanted nothing more than to fuck where-ever and whenever he could. With a dark smirk Mark placed them in the basket; It's going to be a good night.

Aloof: Glen was sitting on the edge of his seat; his lover had asked him to sit there and not to move until he returned. When the tall auburn haired man entered the room again, Glen kept an eye on his as moved silently about the room, wondering just what in the hell was in the sack that dangled from his hand.

Sugar: Mark looked at the container by the coffee maker in confusion. Instead of the pure cane sugar that normally sat there, there was a box of sweet-n-low. He wrinkled his nose and started to go through the cupboards, looking for the white perfection that had been banned by his partner after his last doctor's visits.

I'm Here: Glen was lugging the last of his baggage into the house, wondering what in the hell he was thinking when he took the time off that Vince had offered. He dropped the smallest suitcase by the door and tossed the rest on the couch, rolling his shoulders to loosen them up. The house was in disarray from his lover's time off and with an annoyed eye roll he started to pick things up. Is this really what I'm here for....

With Me: Mark was sitting on his bike waiting for Glen to make his way outside, it had taken some cajoling and pleading but in the end all he really had to say was, "Ride with me".

Fantasy: Glen stood slack jawed in the doorway to his hotel room. There, sprawled out in nothing but leather chaps and a smile was his lover; his long auburn hair resting against his shoulders as his green eyes smoldered. He crooked his finger at the bald man and he walked forwards to take advantage of everyone on the rosters fantasy.

Weapon: In his large hand was long steel pipe. It's weight comforting and familiar, across from him stood his ex lover and now rival for the belt. In his hand was steel chair, as one they started to move towards each other, the deadliest weapons not being the ones in their hands but the knowledge they had of the other's weaknesses.

Blood: Tantalizing, exhilarating, orgasmic. Those words flew through the auburn haired man's mind as he looked down at his lover while he writhed in pained pleasure. He could smell the blood as it roared through his veins and he couldn't help himself, he reached down and bit; drawing the heady, thick liquid deep into his mouth, savoring it even as his prey stilled beneath him.

Find Me: Glen was sitting in his hotel room, lounging in his sweats when his phone went off. He furrowed his brow and flipped open the phone, the number was unknown and the message was only a few words. Find me before it's too late.

Funeral: He'd never understand what his lover's fascination was with these things. They were nothing but sad people mourning the passing of someone they held dear to their hearts. Of course with Mark, they always ended up the same way; him bent over something in the coat closet as the preacher read the eulogy.

Magic: He could feel it in the air when he walked into the den that he built for himself. There was a heady feel as he felt it wrapped itself around his body like a long lost lover. On the floor lay his 'sacrifice' for the night; bound hand and foot and pleading with his mismatched eyes to be spared.

Disco Stick: Glen watched in horror as Mark danced his way into the middle of the crowd. His long frame slipping between bodies as he swung the flouresant tube they had been given at the door when they entered. Just barely over the noise crowd he heard Mark yell at him "Git yer ass out here and give that disco stick a whirl."

Beach: Mark kicked at the sand impatiently as he waited for Glen's photo shoot to be over. Why they wanted him on the beach he didn't know, Glen was as white as paper, and he'd probably be burnt to a crisp by the time it was over. Maybe this was Vince's way of telling him to get a little color.

Sober: It was an odd experience for him not to be wasted at party that he had thrown, but in the end it didn't matter. As he and Glen made their way back to the hotel for the night they were struck by a drunk driver and killed instantly.

Devastated: Gone, everything gone. The older man stood in the door way to his Texas Ranch, surveying the horror that greeted his eyes. Everywhere there was blood and broken items; the only solace that his lover had gone down fighting. Tears pricked his eyes as he realized that everything he wanted and treasured was gone, with a groan he sat and wept for his fallen love.

Shackles: They clinked against the floor, their metallic sound bouncing off the walls. Glen shuddered as their weight drug his arms down to side, rending them useless.

Broken: It seemed odd to Mark to see him on the floor, listless eyes, shallow breathing, and blood pouring from a cut on his head. Glen was normally so strong that it would have taken atleast six guys to take him down if he was angry. Mark closed his eyes as Glen took his last breath, the last imagine of his lover being one of a broken man lying alone on the floor.

Precious: He swore that that word would never leave his lips again. But standing in the doorway and seeing Mark passed out on the bed with his dogs laying on him was just too cute for words. As quietly as he could he breathed the word as he captured it on his camera. "What did I tell you about that?" Mark grumbled from the bed, his eyes still closed. Glen sighed and left the room, if there was one thing you didn't call Mark Calaway, it was precious.

Question: "Did you really just question a direct order?" Mark asked, whip held loosely in his hand. "Yes." Glen winced, waiting for the whip to snake across his back, leaving a large angry welt or a trickle of blood. Instead Mark laughed, the sound far from reasurring. "Easy. You've never told me to get on my knees and suck it."

Ink: Idly Glen traced the intricate inked lines on Mark's arms, smirking when Mark brought his hand down to stop the movement. With a boyish grin Glen looked up, biting his lip when he seen the lust in Mark's eyes. "You know what that does to me." Mark rasped. "I know." With smirk Glen covered his lover, loving the fact that he could turn him on so easily.

Twisted: Mark stormed from the house and climbed onto one of his bikes, grinding his teeth in frustration. He knew that he wasn't the easiest man on earth to get along with, but it made things ten time's harder with Glen twisting his words around until they weren't even what originally left his lips. With a roar of the engine Mark bolted off into the night, deciding to do what Glen had accused of.

Echo: The emptiness of the house was magnified by the sound of Mark's voice echoing through it. Normally when he'd get home Glen would be in the kitchen singing with the radio. But now....now there was nothing but silence greeting him. He dropped down onto the couch, even his sobs echoing back at him in the stillness.

Bar: Glen was rolling around on the ground laughing till he cried. He couldn't believe that Mark hadn't seen that steel bar sticking up from the ground in front of him. Too bad the bike took the worst of the tumble.

Hair: Mark sat in their dressing room, watching as the long mane was shaved away from his lover's head. He shifted his eyes around the room before sneaking over and grabbing some off the floor and stuffing it deep into his pockets.

Bed: The door was kicked open violently as the two fought for dominance, their tongues swirling in each other's mouths as hands torn clothing from bodies. With a forceful shove Glen was sent flying backwards, his breathe knocked out of him as he landed hard in the middle of the bed. He never got a chance to regain it; Mark dove on him a moment later and sealed their lips together as he pierced his lover for the first time of many that night.

Clothes: Mark shook his head as he walked into the room. The only part of Glen that he could see was his jean covered ass poking out of the closet as clothes flew over his head to litter the floor. He thought he heard Glen mumbling but he couldn't be sure, with a grin he reclined on the bed before grabbing one of the discarded shirts and balling it up. He closed one eye and lobbed it at Glen's backside as hard as he could, laughing as Glen yelped and fell forwards into the closet.

Drink: It was calling to him. The sweet release of barrel aged whiskey, so smooth that there almost no burn as it slid down one's throat. Cautiously Mark looked over at his lover curled on his side. He had promised Glen that he'd slow down on the drinking ever since the night he had back handed Glen in a fit of drunken rage. He willed himself to stay in bed but in the end he tip toed down the stairs and slipped the bottle from its hiding place.

Tan: "I refuse!" Glen stated as he crossed his arms over his chest. "There is no way in hell I'm going out to the ring looking like Randy Orton." "But sir...a little tanner isn't going to hurt you." Glen just glared at the back stage crew member before storming from the room.

Ice: Grumbling to himself about Mark's laziness Glen grabbed the ice bucket and headed down the hall to the machine. After a few minutes of fighting with the idiotic machine he headed back to his room, his mood even fouler than when he left. With a growl he shoved the door open, only to drop the bucket on the ground. Mark was lying in the middle of the bed with nothing on but a smile.

Promise: "No." Glen said as he walked towards the back of the house. "C'mon Glen, it's not going to kill you." Mark smirked as he followed, taunting his lover and poking him in the back. "Dammit Mark I said no." He growled. "You know you wanna...." Glen turned around and threw his hands in the air. "How in the hell is getting me to pinky swear that I'm not going to eat the last cupcake going to make a difference? They're fucking chocolate Mark, I hate chocolate. They're safe, take my word for it." "Nuh Uh." Mark smiled as he wiggled his pinky in Glen's direction. "You're impossible." Glen growled before stomping away.

Hate: It sat there staring at him until Glen couldn't take it anymore. With a growl he got up and ripped it down from the wall; shredding it into bits then running the sweeper to hide the crime. Just as he got the sweeper put back in the closet Mark walked through the door, leaning in to kiss his lover but stopping when he looked at the wall over the couch. "Hey what happened to my picture of Michelle?" Glen rolled his eyes and pushed away from Mark, stomping up the stairs to their room.

Gym: The large room laughed at him, the machines snickering silently as his eyes darted around the room. He looked down at the towel in his hand before leaving, it had been two months but still Mark couldn't make himself work out without Glen being there with him.

Early: The light was just peeking over the horizon and Mark grumbled when he felt the bed shake. He cracked one eye open and watched as Glen and Justin stood huddled in front of the window with the curtains open. It never ceased to amaze him how they could always get up to see that particular miracle no matter what time they went to sleep the night before.

Smell: Cautiously Glen pushed the door open to the garage. For the last couple of days this rancid odor had been creeping out from under the door and into the house. He flung the door open and stopped dead, fainting at the sight. There strung up in the middle of the garage was a deer. Mark had wandered in just as Glen fell to the ground. He peeked into the garage and laughed. "I wondered what I did with that. Must remember not to bleed a kill when drunk."

Night: It was his favorite time of the day. Everything was still and quite, people were tucking themselves into bed, kissing loved ones before slumber claimed them. The moonlight filtered through the clouds and illuminated the steel blade in his hand, this time he would enter into the eternal night, never to be awakened again.

Driving: It was times like these that Glen missed the simple things in life. Heading from one arena to the next with Mark riding shotgun and telling dirty jokes for no apparent reason. With a heavy sigh Glen looked over to the empty seat, smiling when he thought about the shocked look that was going to be on Mark's face when he came home for the absolute last time.

Naked: It finally out there, the naked truth. Glen sat on the bed with his head in his hands, large tears rolling down his face as he stared up into the cold; dead eyes of his lover. "Y-you don't mean that..." He started pitifully. "Get over yerself man, you were good but you weren't that good."

Pills: Mark stared at the little round blue pills that he had found in Glen's bag. They weren't in a container, just a small plastic baggy that was burnt on one end to keep it closed. He tilted his head and glared as though by scowling at them they would tell him what they were for. The door to the room opened and without saying anything he threw them at Glen, his arms crossed over his chest as he waited for an answer. Glen turned bright red and dropped his eyes to the floor...."Viagra."

Push: Glen stared at the button, it wasn't labeled and as a rule of thumb anything without a label was supposed to be untouchable. But the light was hitting it just right, making it glitter and Glen couldn't help himself. He looked around the area; no one was close enough to see what he was doing. So with a look akin to the look on a child's face in a candy store he pressed it. Nothing happened so he wandered way, feeling slightly disappointed. *In the Ring* Pyro and confetti rained down, showering the crowd and the combatants in the ring.

Winter: "You're insane." Mark grumbled as he watched his lover strip bare and step out onto the balcony of their hotel room. He was completely visible to everyone below, but it didn't seem to bother him. Mark laid back on the bed and watched as the snow swirled around Glen's nude form, smirking as he thought of the perfect way to 'warm' him up when he came back in.

Voodoo: "You don't really think that's going to work......do you?" Glen asked warily as he watched Mark pick up a doll that looked alot like him. "We'll see." Mark grinned and started to lightly stroke the doll, keeping his eyes on Glen the entire time. Glen frowned as he felt a feather light touch go down his spine. Determined not to give it away that it was apparently working Glen bit his lip. Atleast he did until Mark started to rub his thumb over the doll's crotch. Moments later Glen came with a hoarse yell, making Mark laugh. "Whaddya know, it did work." Glen glared at him as he panted. "Asshole."

Dream: Mark was propped up on his elbows, watching Glen's face as he slept. It was unlined and he looked ten years younger, the worry and stress erased as he floated through whatever crossed his mind. He was about to lay back down and curl next to him when he heard Glen sigh. "Please..." It was whimpered making Mark wander what he was thinking. "Please what?" He asked, deciding to play along and see what happened. "Please fuck me Mark, I need it so bad." Mark's grin slipped from his face as his body sprang to life, intent on making this particular dream an unforgettable one.

Chalk Dust: Glen hated this time of the year. The class rooms always smelled the same, it was as if the dust from the boards of the year before settled on everything, seeking a place in the lungs when the teachers came back to set up for the new year. The only good thing was that Mark had accompanied him this year. "What in the hell is that smell?" He grimaced when he walked into the room with Glen's briefcase. "It's the scent of not following your dreams."

Driving: Dead. That was how he was going to end up if Mark didn't slow down. Glen gripped the side of his seat until his knuckles turned white, his eyes closed and his teeth chewing a hole through his lip. He heard Mark chuckle and he risked a look over. "W-what's so funny?" Mark just grinned and grabbed Glen's hand from it's spot on the seat, placing it on his groin. "Let's really get this party started, the harder you grip the faster I drive."

Phone Call: Mark held the now silent device in his hand, blinking in shock. The chair shot tonight had been legit and now Glen was suffering from a mild case of amnesia. A sly smirk crossed Marks face as he thought about the fun that he could have with his lover, the smirk blossoming into a smile as he headed out the door with the phone to his ear. "Mike? Adam with you? Good, how would you two like to have some fun tonight........."

Nightmare: Glen woke up in a cold sweat, his breathing ragged and his eyes wild. His movement caused the other in habitant to groan and shift away. Shakily he raised his hands and inspected them, expecting to find blood smeared on them. When they were clean he laughed, the sound having a mad edge to it. "Just a dream....it was only a dream......" He chanted as he lay back down.

Playboy: Hell no!" Glen hollered over Mark. "There is now way I'm going to that mansion with Adam and Mike. They'd never come back." Glen said as he stormed from the room. "That's the point." Mark grumbled as he headed off to try and talk Glen into bringing their other lovers with them for the night.

Manuscript: Mark looked over the sheaf of papers one more time, trying to find one word out of place. There were none but he was convinced that it would never make it the printing press, no one wanted to hear about his life. With a sad sigh he tossed all the papers in the trashcan and walked away.

Serenity: Total quiet engulfed the house, making Glen smile. It wasn't often that he had this much time to himself. With a happy sigh he settled down on the couch, stretching out so that he was flat on his back. He had been reading but soon he drifted off to sleep, the book dangling from his hand and soft snores issuing from his mouth.

Difficulty: "Glen it isn't that serious." Mark said as he tried to stifle a laugh. Glen was laying on the floor with his bottom half sticking out of the cupboard doors. He had accidently knocked his ring down the drain and was now fighting with the U-bend so that he could retrieve it. There was an ominous creaking nose followed by Glen yelping and smack his head on the bottom of the sink. When he scooted out Mark couldn't help the short laugh that escaped him. Glen was covered in bits of food, a lettuce leaf sitting on the top of his head. "Go call a plumber; I seemed to have had some difficulty locating the right pipe...." Glen trailed off, plucking the lettuce from his head.

Good Riddance: Mark sat on the couch smiling smugly as Adam and Mike trudged through the house with their bags. Glen had ordered them to be gone before he came back from the store. Adam looked over and glared at him. "I know you did this." He growled. "Prove it." Adam snarled and headed out the door; Mike sniffling and sobbing behind him. Once the door shut Mark got up from the couch and stripped down, smiling as he waited for Glen to come back.

Missing: Glen stepped wearily into the house after driving back from the arena. He dropped his bag by the door and forced himself to walk over to the couch, dropping down with a sigh. From the pocket of his duffle bag came the sound of glass shattering and with a groan he got up and pulled it out and held it up to his ear. "Wha???" "Um, are you missing something?" Came the amused voice of Mark. Glen furrowed his brow trying to think. A sudden cool breeze across his legs made his eyes snap back open. In his tired state he had left the arena wearing absolutely nothing.

Spring: The hillside was awash in bright colors, waving around Mark's legs as he watched the giant dogs jump and frolic; shaking off the winter blah's. He whistles and starts back to the house, smiling when he opens the door and sees his long time lover cleaning in nothing but a pair of worn jeans and an apron. With a smirk Mark grabbed him around the waist and headed into the room. The cleaning could wait, there'd be more days to come for it.

July: The hot summer heat made the house a sauna and Glen wiped the sweat from his forehead with his arm, shooting glares at the broken air conditioner. It would be so easy to buy a new one but Mark said he could fix it. Instead it sat in the widow, collecting dust and spiderwebs while Mark spent his time out in the garage with his bikes. Thankfully the air conditioner sales started at the end of July, and Glen was planning on buying one for every damned window in that ranch.

Free: Finally. He slammed the door shut to his locker room and peeled the spandex from his skin, moaning as the cool air hit him. From the corner came a chuckle and he looked over, glaring at the auburn haired man. "Shut up. You'd do it too if you actually wrestled." He snarled before storming into the shower area.

Stars: Mark stood in the doorway, blinking his eyes slowly at the sight before him. Glen had a tattoo with stars surrounding the letters ABA on his ass cheek.

Fingertips: Mark smirked and slipped into his coat, laughing inwardly as his fingertip bruises were covered completely where as Glen was sitting in makeup as the girls worked their magic to make his matching ones disappear along with the scratches that marred his perfect creamy skin. He breezed past the room, laughing when he heard Glen growling at the giggling women.

Waiting: Glen tapped his foot impatiently. He hated when Mark got in these moods. You'd think that he'd already have one picked out, but noooo; each time it had to be some one different. Finally the sounds of Mark's boot tread reached his ears and Glen looked up, gasping in surprise when he seen the eldest Hardy trailing behind Mark in nothing but a black leather dog collar.

Revenge: "C'mon Mark, I didn't mean to scratch your bike!" Glen hollered from his cuffed spot on the bed as Mark fed his favorite first edition book to the fire that was roaring in the rarely used fireplace that was in their room.

Morgue: It was a creepy place even in the daylight and Glen fidgeted as he waited for his lover's shift to be over. The door opened and Glen snapped his head up, sighing in relief as Mark walked silently through them. "Hi." Glen whispered. "Glen, they're all dead, you don't have to whisper." Mark laughed with an eye roll. "Well the one they brought in earlier wasn't all the way dead, but he is now. So I guess it's a moot point." Glen stopped and stared at the doors, his eyes wide before hurrying after Mark.

Celebration: Mark stood in the middle of the ring watching the sticky tape rain from the lighting as fireworks exploded. The crowd was screaming his latest win for the streak, bringing it to 19-0. Still it all paled in comparison as to what was waiting for him back in his locker room.