Predators

by fms-fangirl

Randy decides that John needs a distraction from the Nexus story line.

Title: Predators

Pairing: John/Randy/Evan

Rating: NC 17

Disclaimer: Not mine – just wish they were

A/N: Randy decides that John needs a distraction from the Nexus story line

A/N #2: This is my first attempt at something like this and is completely different for me

"What do you think? You interested?"

"You know I am," John said, watching the young man in the ring. "You?"

"Obviously," Randy replied.

"Do you think he'd go for it? He doesn't really seem the type."

"I don't know. Somehow, I think there's a lot more there than people realise."

"You sure you don't want to try one of the newer guys? Gabriel would go for it in a second."

"Gabriel would let the entire locker room put a train on him in a minute if he thought it would move him up the ladder," Randy snorted. "We agreed: no one who thinks it's good for his career. Anyway, it's more fun to find someone who has to be… persuaded."

"All right then," John said. "When do we start?"

"No time like the present, but you have to make the first move. He's scared shitless of me for some reason," Randy grinned.

I can't imagine why," John said, rolling his eyes. "Turn off the bedroom eyes for a bit." John laughed at the recollection of Randy whispering to the younger man in low, intimate tones, his icy blue-grey eyes ranging over his body. "The poor kid thinks you want to eat him alive."

"Ah! But I do," Randy said, trailing his forefinger down John's arm, "and so do you."

From the very first time they had locked up in the ring, John and Randy had recognised that they were soul mates. Twenty minutes after their first match, Randy had been bent over the table in the dressing room, John pounding ruthlessly into him, as they watched themselves in the mirror. Other friends and lovers could come and go, but nothing rivalled the intensity of the feelings that they had for one another. Monogamy played no part in their relationship: they gleefully shared tales of their conquests with each other, adding a fillip to their passion. They followed only three rules: spouses and families came first, neither approached anyone who might look at them as a means of advancement and they never sought out anyone who was already in another relationship. Although Randy enjoyed finding lovers who required some pursuit, neither turned their wiles on anyone who was unwilling.

And on very rare occasions, they hunted together: fixing on a target and sharing him for a few nights or weeks.

Randy had been watching John carefully for the past couple of months; he knew the Nexus storyline was getting to him. They were all sick of it, but John, as their chief target, was becoming increasingly depressed. Randy always said he didn't care if the crowds cheered or booed him, as long as they weren't indifferent; John, however, was finding it very difficult to be playing a lame duck in the ring. Finally, Randy had decided that John needed a distraction and had cast about for another prey.

Finding someone hadn't been difficult; he had seen the glances John had sent in his direction, and John was right, he had attempted to engage the other man's interest, without success.

The young man had finished his match and was making his way backstage, giving an impersonal smile and nod to the two men who had been watching him. Randy smiled to himself; this should be interesting.

Evan Bourne scowled at himself in the mirror. For once, the usually crowded locker room was deserted. It was nice to be able to stretch and warm up without snide comments from the rest of the guys, he thought as he bent himself double, his head almost touching his heels.

Straightening up, he pasted his trademark wide grin on his face and lifted his hand to flash his signature peace sign. Suddenly, his smile slipped and he extended his middle finger at his reflection.

"Planning a heel turn?"

Evan jumped at the sound of the voice behind him and flushed a deep red as John came into the room. "Yeah," he said, with a hollow laugh, "I thought I might join the Nexus."

John smiled at him with genuine compassion. Poor Evan, he had been primed for a push that had gotten lost in the Nexus storyline and was soon going to be forced to take several months off for surgery to a torn rotator cuff. For a moment, he had second thoughts; he seemed unusually vulnerable right now. Whatever else he and Randy might do, they were careful that they never took advantage of another's weakness.

John tossed his Nexus armband at Evan. "Here, try it on. See how you like it."

Evan slipped it on over his own armband. Crossing his arms he scowled at him and said, "John Cena! I am ordering you to get back into the ring and blow me in front of the entire WWE universe," in a dead-on imitation of Wade Barrett.

As John laughed, he clenched his fist and began to swing his forearm in tight circles as he continued, "Randy Orton, I am going to land the 450 right on your cock and milk your little Viper." This was delivered with an uncannily perfect Afrikaans accent.

"Don't let Randy hear you calling his –um Viper little," John chuckled, catching the armband Evan threw back at him.

Suddenly, Evan stretched his arms out and threw his head back with a disdainful expression on his face, all the while thrusting his hips obscenely. "And for the rest of tonight's Raw, I will personally fuck every member of the audience. Please take a number and form a line to the right."

John's mouth fell open at this unexpected side of Evan. "I don't think I want to know how you'd do me."

"No, you don't." Evan grinned at him and slipped out the door.

John stared after him in amazement. Randy was right: there was a great deal more to this young man than he had believed.

John and Randy sat in the parking lot outside of the Houston restaurant.

"What makes you so sure he'll be here?" John asked.

"Simple. I know his flight was delayed, so he didn't get any dinner."

"But how do you know he'll be here?"

"Because it's supposed to be one of the best Japanese restaurants in the country," Randy explained patiently. "There's no way he'd miss a chance to eat here."

"Okay, but if you're wrong, you're taking me out to the most expensive steak house in town."

John climbed out of the car and entered the restaurant. Sure enough, Evan Bourne was sitting alone at the sushi bar. Sometimes John thanked God that Randy was not his enemy. The ability that man had to get into people's heads was amazing.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, taking a seat next to him.

Evan looked up at him in surprise. "I didn't know you liked Japanese."

"Well, it's not my favourite," he said, repressing a grimace at the sight of the raw fish in front of Evan. If he was going to eat that stuff, Randy owed him a steak anyway, he decided. "Would you mind ordering for me? I don't really have much of a clue about this."

John listened in amazement as Evan spoke to the waiter. "You speak Japanese?" he asked as a small ceramic bottle of sake appeared in front of him.

"I picked up a bit while I was over there," he answered. "Jericho is much more fluent than I am."

"Should I be worried about what you ordered for me? It's not that fish where there's only about one square inch that's safe to eat, is it?"

"Good Lord, no! But I did try it once when I was there." Evan continued to chat about his experiences in Japan as John asked questions meant to put him at ease.

This might turn out to be even better than he had hoped, John thought, as he struggled with his chopsticks. He knew Randy occasionally had to express his darker needs by finding a partner whom he held in contempt, but John found it necessary to have at least some liking for a potential lover. He'd always liked Evan, but had assumed that he wouldn't be interested. Trust Randy to see below the surface, beyond the smiles and wide-eyed innocent expression.

Suddenly, Evan fell silent. John looked up to see Randy standing over them.

"Hey John, you know that fish is raw? You'd better send it back and tell them to cook it for you." Randy smirked.

John rolled his eyes as Randy snatched a piece from his plate and popped it in his mouth, slowly licking his fingers, never taking his eyes off Evan's face.

Evan swallowed hard and drained his remaining sake in several gulps. Dropping a bill on the bar, he mumbled a good night to both men and fled the restaurant.

"Way to go, Randy," John snorted in disgust. "He was just getting comfortable with me and you had to come and scare him away. You'd better let me handle this alone for the next little while."

Taking Evan's seat, Randy raised an eyebrow. "Do you want him for yourself?"

John was tempted; he knew Randy would leave the field clear if he asked. It had happened a couple of times before, such as when Randy had asked him to leave Cody alone. Usually, neither minded if one went after the other's partners, but, once in a while, they were reluctant to share.

But then he thought about Evan's compact body and knew he could not give up the chance to see him and Randy together, Randy's long, elegant limbs tangled with Evan's, or to look into Randy's eyes as he drove himself into to the smaller man. The image made him catch his breath.

"No," he said, "but we're going to have to take it very slowly with this one." He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Thoughts of Evan sandwiched between Randy and him were making his groin throb. "Let's get out of here and you can show me what you're planning to do to him."

Evan lay awake for a long time smiling at the ceiling .He had to laugh; he had no intention of being another of Randy Orton's conquests. Or John Cena's, for that matter. There was no way that he was simply going to scratch Randy Orton's itch for endless variety and then be tossed aside. Everybody knew that was why Cody had been moved to Smackdown; he had fallen hard, and had, eventually, become a nuisance and then an embarrassment to Randy. Nor was he going to allow Randy to offer him up to assuage John's depression.

They said the thrill was in the chase. Well, those two were going to be thrilled for a long time.

Randy kept his word to John and stayed away from Evan. When circumstances forced them together, he kept his comments casual and his tone neutral. Meanwhile, John, with Randy's help, had contrived several more encounters with him and had reason to believe he was getting somewhere.

"Earlier," he told Randy, "he was just standing there, but he was looking all over the backstage. As soon as he saw me, his whole face lit up."

Randy laughed softly, delighted that this campaign was diverting John from his misery over the Nexus storyline. "I always did say you were irresistible," he said quietly, leaning down slightly to speak into John's ear, his tongue flickering out to trace the sensitive whorl for a second.

John felt his breath catch. This was one of their favourite little games: to touch one another intimately in front of as many unknowing people as possible. The only spot that was off limits was the ring. But this time he felt like he was being watched and looked across the backstage to see a pair of huge brown eyes staring at him. As soon as he caught Evan's gaze, the younger man dropped his eyes and turned red, staring at the ground in confusion. But maybe it wasn't such a bad thing, he thought, catching a glimpse of his stricken expression.

After the show, he deliberately sought out the other man for the first time. Suggesting that they grab a burger and a beer, he smiled inwardly as Evan eagerly agreed.

Seated in a diner not far from the arena, they exchanged life on the road horror stories about broken-down rental cars, bad food and roach-ridden motels.

"Of course, Randy has that tour bus now," John laughed, "but, sometimes, I think that he misses being able to complain all the time about crummy hotels."

"I've heard a few people talk about it. They say it's just gorgeous inside."

"I don't know about that; Randy's an awful slob at times."

"Really?" Evan asked in surprise. "I always had this picture of him reclining in the lap of luxury."

"Do you want to see it? I'll give him a call."

"No, don't!" Evan exclaimed, flushing uncomfortably. "He'll just think I'm some kind of stupid fan boy. Anyway, he's probably not alone." He turned an even brighter shade of red.

"He will be. He doesn't let his casual hook-ups on there." This was true. John was the only one who had ever shared the bed with him. "But I'll call him and give him a few minutes to make sure the coast is clear. Don't worry," he reassured Evan, "he loves showing it off."

After a brief dispute in which Evan insisted on paying his share of the bill, John stepped away to let Randy know they were coming over. "And Randy," he whispered into the phone, "behave!"

John was delighted by this turn of events; it was the first time Evan had expressed any willingness to be in Randy's company. As they drove over, however, he was assailed by doubts. He had been touched by Evan's stubbornness concerning the restaurant tab. His income was many times that of the younger man's; he found his pride disconcerting and, not for the first time, he wondered about the game he and Randy were playing with him.

Randy was on his best behaviour, showing Evan around the bus while John expressed sardonic surprise that that there were no mouldy socks or dirty underwear strewn all over the floor.

"Just don't open any closet doors," Randy laughed pouring them each a glass of juice. That was another of their rules: almost no alcohol. Nobody was allowed to blame anything that happened on the fact that they had been drinking too much.

Evan relaxed in Randy's company for the first time while Randy patiently answered questions about his father, Roddy Piper and André the Giant.

"I'm sorry," Evan said, "you must be awfully tired of these questions, but I watched The Princess Bride about a million times. Ted almost threw me out of a moving car once because I wouldn't shut up about his dad."

"It's okay," Randy said kindly. "I'll tell you a secret: I've seen The Princess Bride about fifty times, too, and I still get choked up at the end."

As Evan took his empty glass into the kitchen, the two men exchanged congratulatory looks, but both were surprised by a loud shout of laughter.

"Oh no!" Randy groaned. "He opened the dishwasher."

John followed Randy into the kitchen to find Evan shaking with helpless laughter at the sight of a tangled pile of t-shirts, socks and one malodorous sneaker in the dishwasher.

"I only had a couple of minutes before you arrived," Randy grumbled. "How was I to know that Evan was the helpful sort? Unlike you," he glared at John.

"Don't worry Randy, your secret is safe with me," Evan crowed, "but you have to tell me: will I find a pizza box in your dryer?"

"Most likely," he grinned.

Still laughing, he thanked Randy volubly and he and John bid him good night.

Having shut the door, Randy flopped onto the couch, reflecting on the events of the evening. At least Evan had lost that deer-in-the-headlights look when he spoke to him and, as the Nexus storyline became darker, he was relieved that John had something to make him smile. Whatever happened, he would be grateful to Evan for providing a distraction for John.

About fifteen minutes later, his phone rang. "Yes?" he crooned into it.

"I'm getting worried," John answered. "I don't think we should keep this up. He's too nice a kid to get pulled into our games."

"First," Randy said, "he's not a kid. He's only three years younger than me. Second, he's been in the business as long as we have and he's had to fight for everything he has. His path has been a lot harder than ours. He's a lot tougher than you think."

"He just seems so… innocent, somehow. I'd hate to fuck him up."

"I'll ask you again," Randy said patiently. "Do you want him for yourself?"

"I don't know," John said. "I know I want him for us, but I don't want us to screw him up."

"Did we screw up Adam?" Randy asked. "What about Ted?"

"What about Cody?" John retorted.

Randy went dangerously quiet. "That was a mistake, but it was entirely my mistake. Why do you think I asked you to keep away from him? I knew it was a mistake from almost the very beginning." He sighed, "Do you really want to call it off?"

"No," John said, unwilling to surrender the image of Evan beneath him while Randy watched or of swallowing him down while Randy took him.

"So," Randy said, opening his jeans, "tell me what you want to do to him."

Evan knew people were talking about him and John. One or two had even given him oblique warnings. This infuriated him; sometimes he felt so stifled by his goody two-shoes image and, sometimes, he wondered if this was what was drawing John and Randy to him.

He and John got together most evenings after the show now. Occasionally, Randy joined them; sometimes for no more than a few minutes, sometimes for and hour or so, and, when they were in Vegas, the three of them had hit the strip for the entire night, crashing in Randy's bus as the sun came up.

This game couldn't go on much longer, he realised. Soon, one of them would make a move and when that happened, he was ready.

"I think he's ready," Randy said. "It's time."

John knew that they had almost reached the endgame. In a way, he would be sorry; he had really enjoyed the time he had spent with Evan. Nothing would ever be the same between them after tomorrow night. He listened to Randy on the phone with the hotel as he changed their reservations and almost found himself hoping that they could not accommodate them, but his hopes were dashed as Randy pushed the end button.

"It's done," he said.

The following afternoon found Evan red-faced and stuttering at the hotel desk.

"How can my reservation be cancelled? I never cancelled it."

"I'm sorry sir," the woman at the desk said, "but it has been cancelled."

"Do you have another room?" he implored.

"I'm sorry," she said again, "we're fully booked."

"Can you check if there's anything available at another hotel?" he asked desperately.

"It's highly unlikely," she said. "There are quite a few events in town this week."

Evan sighed and sank into one of the chairs in the lobby. He supposed he could wait as other members of the company arrived and see if he could crash with one of them. How pathetic was that? He'd almost rather sleep in the bus station. He looked around for a phone bank. Perhaps, he could start calling the other hotels, but he already had a gloomy premonition that he was going to end out in some fleabag off the Interstate.

Running his finger down the list of motels in the Yellow Pages, he stopped abruptly at one. This town actually had a Bates Motel; it might almost be worth losing his reservation to be able to tell people that he had stayed at the Bates Motel, but they had no vacancies. Just as he was about to give his credit card number to an establishment enticingly named Ratz Motel, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey Evan. What's up? Why the long face?" John asked.

"The hotel lost my reservation. I'm having a hell of a time finding somewhere else."

"Well, hang up that phone," he said. "Randy and I have a suite. You can bunk with us."

"Really? Thank You!" Suddenly, his face fell. "Aren't the suites in this place about fifteen-hundred dollars a night? Can I give you two-fifty now and the rest next week?"

"Evan!" John rolled his eyes, "Randy and I would be paying for it anyway."

"Can I at least buy you dinner or something?"

"We'll talk about it later," he said, leading Evan into the elevator.

"Look who I found in the lobby," John said as they walked into the suite. "The hotel screwed up his reservation. I said he could stay here."

"If it's okay with you," he said nervously to Randy, who was lying on the couch, idly changing channels on the massive flat screen.

"No problem," Randy replied. "Drop your stuff and make yourself at home."

Evan poked around the suite, trying not to look like a hick; he'd stayed in some nice places, but never anything as luxurious as this.

"He's dumbstruck," John chuckled as Evan stared open-mouthed at the bathroom's gigantic marble tub and walk-in shower.

"Good," Randy said quietly. "We need him off-balance."

"Remember, you promised that if he doesn't go for it, we'll put a stop to the whole thing," John whispered.

They spent the rest of the afternoon lazing around, watching TV and eating a light dinner before heading down to the lobby to go to the arena.

"Do you have a car?" Randy asked.

"No. I was going ride with the Harts."

"Give them a call and tell them you've got another ride."

As Evan did so, he was amazed to see an enormous limousine pull up.

"Hop in." John climbed into the car after Randy. "We don't usually travel like this," he said as Evan clambered in, "but, sometimes, we like something special."

"Oh God!" Evan exclaimed. "Did you two have something special planned? I'll ask around at the arena. I'm sure one of the guys will have a spot for me. Please don't change your plans on my account."

"Relax," John said. "We didn't have any specific plans. We just like to treat ourselves occasionally."

"And we're very happy to share our treat with you," Randy added.

Evan sat back against the leather upholstery looking wretched in spite of Randy's best efforts to charm him.

"Why don't you share our dressing room?" John asked. "If it's the same one we had last time, it's huge."

"Thank you, but no. I'd rather stay in the locker room with the rest of the guys."

"I think he's afraid that we'll try to look at him while he's naked," Randy purred, his eyes becoming slumberous as they roamed Evan's body.

"No! Nothing like that!" Evan insisted, his voice rising. "It's just the other guys…" his voice trailed off helplessly.

"The other guys will give you a hard time about sharing with us." John said. "Is that what you're trying to say?" As Evan nodded, he continued, "I'm sorry then, but the damage has probably already been done. The second you climb out of this limo they're going to start talking. You might well enjoy one night of peace."

"I don't mean to sound ungrateful," Evan said. "I am grateful and I will take you up on that offer."

Sure enough, he could hear the buzz down the corridor as he walked with Randy and John, but did his best to ignore it.

Looking around the luxuriously appointed dressing room, he shook his head. "I feel like a rock star: the suite, the limo and now this."

"If you want to complete the experience, we could throw the TV off the balcony when we get back to the hotel," John said.

"Or we could round up a bunch of ring-rats and take them back with us," Randy suggested. "Some of those girls will do anything. Remember when we were in Tulsa?"

John flushed at the memory of a pair of fresh-faced twins and the things they had done and the things they had suggested doing. He and Randy had agreed after that: no more locals. They still weren't entirely sure if those two had been legal.

Evan ignored them both and quickly donned his tights and boots and began to stretch.

Randy and John both watched him appreciatively. "Damn, that boy can bend and twist," Randy said quietly. "This is going to be better than we hoped."

John shot him a warning glance, but Evan was seemingly too intent on warming up to notice what was being said. "I'll see you guys later," he said and slipped out of the room.

"Randy, watch it," John complained. "You're going to scare him off."

"Oh that boy's not scared," Randy said silkily. "Did you see the look on his face just now? He's intrigued." He pulled John against him. Both were still dressed in their street clothes, but he could feel the hardness in John's crotch as he ground his own against him. "This is the best time," he whispered. "When we know it's about to happen."

And it was, he thought, savouring the anticipation, as he lounged nude in one of the chairs. John had gone to cut a promo, Evan was just finishing his match and he had a good twenty minutes before he had to make an appearance.

"Oh Jesus, Randy," Evan exclaimed, as he walked in, "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," he replied, stretching languidly like a great jungle cat.

Suddenly, Evan smiled at him. It wasn't the usual cheerful grin that normally split his face. His head was held high, his eyes narrowed and he showed his slightly pointed eye-teeth, resembling nothing so much as a wolf, circling his prey.

Then, just as suddenly, it was gone.

"I'll uh- let you get dressed in peace," he said and left the room.

That little prick! He knew! He had known all along. Randy dressed quickly, confused as only a player can be when he realises that he is being played.

Randy was unusually quiet as they rode back to the hotel, leaning back in the seat, watching Evan with hooded eyes. Once or twice, Evan caught his eye and responded with that same smile he had used earlier.

John, sensing the tension in the car, attempted to fill the silence with meaningless chatter, but, eventually, he, too, fell quiet.

They rode the elevator wordlessly up to the top floor of the hotel, Randy, leaning against one of the walls with his arms folded, a slight smirk on his face. As soon as John opened the door to the suite, Evan retreated to the second bedroom.

"What did you say to him?" John hissed. "You've scared him off."

"I don't think so," Randy replied, opening a bottle of champagne. "Go get him."

"Hey Evan!" John tapped on the door of the bedroom, "Come on out and have some champagne."

Evan emerged a few seconds later and took the flute from Randy. Sitting down in the middle of the couch, he grinned at them both. "What? No caviar?"

"Do you want some?" John asked. "We can call down for it, if you like." He sat beside him as Randy took a seat on his other side.

"Good Lord! No!" he answered. "But I will try one of these," he said, picking up a ripe peach from the fruit bowl on the table in front of them.

John nearly groaned aloud as he sank his teeth into the fruit, juice running down his chin and fingers. Evan slowly ate the peach, while both men watched, his tongue flickering out to capture a rivulet of juice that ran down his hand and wrist.

Finally, Randy reached out and took the pit from him. Holding Evan's wrist, he slowly drew his sticky finger into his mouth. Evan closed his eyes and tipped his head back in a gesture of surrender. Randy exchanged a look with John, who leaned over and licked the juice from Evan's chin before covering his mouth with his own.

Evan returned John's kisses hungrily, arching his body towards the other man, as Randy buried his face in Evan's neck nipping at the tender flesh. John's big hands ranged across his torso as Evan rested his hands on the napes of their necks.

John broke away, "Are you all right with this?" he asked, brushing his thumb across Evan's cheekbone.

And, for the first time, he saw that smile. "Are you?" Evan pulled his head back down to claim his mouth again. As John probed the moist caverns of Evan's mouth with his tongue, Randy reached down to cup Evan's groin, rubbing his palm over his hardness.

This time Evan pulled away. "How big is the bed in there?" he asked, gesturing with his head towards the master bedroom.

"About half the size of a football field," John answered.

"Then let's go," he said, standing abruptly.

Randy smiled in triumph at John as they followed Evan to the master bedroom. Both, however, were astonished as he paused at the threshold and burst into loud laughter.

"Could you two be any more transparent?" He waved his arm around the room taking in the invitingly turned-down bed, the champagne nestling in a silver ice bucket, the myriad candles casting flickering light across the room and large bottle of lube sitting on the nightstand. "I guess I'm flattered you went to all this trouble on my account."

"You should be," Randy said quietly. "We've never gone to this length before."

"What Randy means to say," John cut in, giving Randy a dirty look, "is that we'd really like this to be special."

"You want to do something special for me?"

"Anything," John said.

"Then I'd like to watch Randy take off his clothes."

"You want to see Randy strip?" John asked in amazement. "Considering the size of his trunks, there can't be much more than about three square inches that you haven't seen."

"Three inches! You're saying I only have three inches?" Randy tossed a pillow at him. "Sit down and watch!"

John sank into a chair and pulled Evan onto his lap, his hands roaming over his body as Randy pushed off his shoes and peeled off his socks. Then he deliberately unbuttoned the cuffs of his shirt and rolled up his sleeves, his eyes never leaving Evan's face. Evan stared back, that strange half-smile on his face as he undulated in John's lap, rubbing his buttocks against his groin.

Slowly, Randy unbuttoned his shirt, but did not remove it. His fingers lingered on his belt buckle for a moment before opening it and pulling it free from the loops on his jeans. Evan leaned forward, pushing himself back against John as Randy toyed with the button on his fly. Finally, as he opened the button and began to pull the zipper down with agonising slowness, John pulled Evan back, so that he was resting against his chest, and began to press kisses along the side of his neck.

Evan shivered with delight and tipped his head to expose more of his neck to John's caressing lips. John pulled Evan's shirt free from his waistband and slid his hands inside, laughing softly when the other man caught his breath as his slightly callused fingertips began to trace delicate patterns across his skin.

"You like that?" he murmured. "Tell us what else you like."

Randy shimmied his hips and his jeans fell to the floor. Stepping out of them, he came to stand before them, clad only in his boxers and open shirt. "Yes," he whispered. "Tell us." He hooked his fingers at the waist of his shorts and began to lower them. "What would you like?"

"I want you to undress John," he said, standing up.

Randy's dropped his boxers. "You heard him, John. Come here."

Evan sat back in the chair to watch Randy open the flies on John's jeans. He reached in and pulled out John's cock. Although thick, Randy's long fingers encircled it easily as John thrust his hips towards the other man. Randy rolled John's t-shirt up, unhurriedly exposing his abdomen and heavily muscled chest. He pulled his shirt over his head and tossed it aside, and, gathering John into his arms, kissed him hungrily, one hand cradling his head as his other reached into his jeans to caress his buttocks. John pushed Randy's shirt off his shoulder as Randy began to tug down his jeans.

Kneeling in front of him, Randy untied John's shoes and pulled them off. As John began to push down his jeans, Randy grasped his hands. "Patience John!" he admonished him. "Evan wants to see me undress you."

Still kneeling, he pulled John's jeans and shorts down together. As his cock sprang forth Randy leaned forward and licked the drop of moisture that gleamed at the tip. "Is this what you want?" he asked as pulled off John's socks and drew his jeans over his feet.

Randy stood and drew John into his arms again. Evan caught his breath at the sight of them, both nude, John's bulky, bunched muscles in sharp contrast to Randy's lean, chiselled elegance. And something else made Evan's breathing quicken: the look that passed between them as Randy cupped John's face between his hands and lowered his mouth onto John's; a look of such all-consuming passion and tenderness that Evan felt almost privileged to be a witness to their love.

They broke apart and Randy smiled at Evan, the first real smile he could recall ever seeing on the Viper's face, his crystalline eyes a luminous blue, as John stretched out a hand to him. "It would make us both very happy if you would join us."

Evan yanked his shirt off over his head and shoved down his jeans, hopping awkwardly on one foot as the leg caught over his shoe. Swearing colourfully, he finally managed to untangle himself and strip them off, standing before the other two men in only his briefs.

"I think you need to give him some lessons on how to strip," John laughed.

"Well, I could always put my clothes back on," Evan sniffed, looking offended.

"No! Please, I was only teasing-" he began, but stopped as Evan grinned at him.

John squatted in front of Evan and lowered his briefs. He cast a look at Randy, who nodded slightly, and took Evan's shaft into his mouth. As Evan surrendered himself to the delicious warmth of John's mouth, Randy came to stand near them, bending his head down to claim his mouth.

Randy's tongue plundered Evan's mouth as he pressed himself against the smaller man and his long-fingered hands caressed his upper body gently. Grasping Evan's hips to slow their jerking, John lifted his head from Evan's groin. "How about if we move this to the bed?"

John led him to the bed and scooped him up into his arms, laying him down gently. Lying down next to him, he took him into his arms and kissed him hungrily as Randy stretched out on the other side. Randy imprinted a series of tiny kisses the length of Evan's spine, and, when he reached the crease of his buttocks, he spread his cheeks and his long tongue flickered out to lap at the puckered opening.

Evan groaned as Randy's tongue touched him and John began to move his mouth down the column of his neck. John's lips blazed a trail of kisses across Evan's chest, his tongue reaching out to flick at his nipple, taking it gently between his teeth. Evan shivered with delight as John turned his attention to his other nipple, circling the nub of flesh with his tongue. Then he dipped his head further, his lips leaving a whisper of moisture that caused his flesh to prickle as it cooled. Suddenly, as John's tongue traced a path across his stomach, Evan let out a yelp.

"He's ticklish," John crowed.

Unable to resist, Randy lifted his head and drew his finger down Evan's side, to be rewarded with another shriek. "Well, what do you know?" he chuckled. "I'm definitely using that next time we're in the ring."

"Don't you dare!" Evan sputtered, sitting up straight.

"It's okay, Evan," John laughed. "I'll tell you a secret: Randy's ticklish too." He reached out and poked Randy, who squealed and jumped out of the bed as if bitten.

"John! Don't!" he cried. "You know I'll pee myself."

"It's true," John said solemnly.

Evan looked at Randy, who nodded, red-faced, and he convulsed at the sight of something he had never expected to witness: Randy Orton blushing.

As Randy climbed back onto the bed Evan reflected that he had expected to meet passion and maybe even a hint of violence in this encounter; certainly not tenderness, affection and laughter.

Randy pulled Evan to face him, "You've been hogging him long enough. I want a taste, too."

John propped himself up on his elbow to watch Randy slither down the bed and take Evan's shaft into his mouth. Randy kept his eyes fixed on John's face as his mouth moved down to swallow the entire length, his cheeks hollowed as he exerted gentle suction. Evan, his head thrown back, cried out softly and thrust himself uncontrollably, unable to resist the tugging and pulling of Randy's talented mouth and tongue.

Reaching for the bottle of lube on the nightstand, John carefully oiled two fingers and pushed them in. Evan gasped at the intrusion, but continued to drive his hips, forward into Randy's mouth and backwards against John's fingers. John curled his fingers, seeking the spot that he knew would give Evan the most pleasure, the younger man's hoarse cry telling him that he had found it. Holding each other's stares, the two continued to pleasure Evan, mouth and fingers moving in concert, until he reached the summit and burst forth, Randy eagerly swallowing his salty essence.

As Evan shuddered and gasped with completion, Randy moved back up the bed and pressed his lips against John's. "He's delicious," he murmured. John's tongue probed Randy's mouth, seeking out Evan's residual seed. "I had the first taste; you can take him first."

"Um guys?" Evan raised himself on his elbows, "Don't talk about me like I'm not here." As both men flushed uncomfortably, he continued, "But I like your idea, Randy, except for one thing."

"What's that?"

"I want to take John while you watch."

Both men's mouths fell open and John's eyes opened wide in shock.

Evan sat up and glowered at them both. "What's the matter? You don't think I can do it, do you? You're both as bad as everyone else: just because I'm not the biggest guy out there, you want to treat me like a toy. Well, I've got news for you," he shouted, "I'm nobody's blow-up doll!"

He climbed out of the bed and picked up his briefs from the floor, "If you two just wanted some little bitch to play with you should have picked on Gabriel or Ryder!"

Shaking with rage, he yanked on his briefs and began to gather his clothes from the floor when he heard a strange, stifled noise behind him. Whirling around, he saw Randy bent double, his hand over his mouth as if to hold back the gales of laughter that threatened him.

"What's so funny?" he growled, glaring at him.

Randy could contain himself no longer. "Ryder? Ryder? Christ Evan," he gasped, "there's not enough brain bleach in the world to get that image out of my brain."

Evan smiled reluctantly, "It could have been worse; I could have suggested Michael Cole."

At this, Randy lost all semblance of control and began to whoop with laughter until he began to sputter and choke. "I'm sorry, Evan," he finally managed to wheeze, "and he's sorry, too. Aren't you, John?" he asked, kicking him in the shin. As John nodded, he went on, "It's just that you –um surprised us."

Evan dropped his clothes and came to sit at the foot of the bed. "I know I overreacted, but you guys have no idea how annoying it is to be treated like you're twelve most of the time."

"No, we don't," John said gently, "but we really are sorry. Come back here, please?"

As Evan slipped off his briefs and made his way up the bed, Randy climbed out and picked up the champagne. "I think we could all use a drink after that" he said, opening the bottle. "Michael Cole!" he shuddered.

Taking a glass from Randy, Evan said, "At least I didn't mention Ziggler or Chris Masters."

"Evan, if you don't shut up, I'm going to find that ball-gag that John has in the bottom of his bag and put it on you."

"Don't listen to him!" John exclaimed. "I do not have a ball-gag. One pair of handcuffs and he acts like I have a fully-equipped bondage dungeon!" He gave Randy a playful shove, making him spill champagne all down his front.

"Now look what you've done! This stuff wasn't cheap, you know. You shouldn't waste it. What do you think?" he asked Evan.

"I agree." His eyes bored into Randy's. "It would be a crime to waste it; I think he should clean it up.

"You heard the boy. Sorry!" he added quickly, as Evan cast a look at him. "Get to work!"

He stretched out on the bed and deliberately tipped the contents of the glass, the wine trickling down the beautifully sculpted contours of his chest and abdomen. John knelt between his legs and bent his head, his tongue reaching out to lick the shimmering trails across Randy's chest. Randy sighed as John's tongue touched him and made low, murmuring noises deep in his throat.

Several of the candles had gone out, but those that remained cast a golden, flickering light across the bed. Evan was captivated by the scene: the impossibly beautiful man arching and sighing in delight as his leonine lover tenderly lapped at his deeply tanned flesh. He tipped the glass again over his shaft and John eagerly licked at the fizzing droplets before closing his mouth over the head. Randy clawed ineffectually at the bed sheets as John swallowed his entire length down his throat and groaned aloud. He opened his eyes to see Evan watching them both intently, and capturing Evan's gaze, he nodded his head towards John.

John felt Evan's weight shift on the bed, but his eyes flew open as he felt the other man's tongue drawing along the length of his crease and tracing lazy circles around his opening. Evan reached forward and grasped John's heavy shaft as he lapped delicately at his balls and slowly brought his tongue back up to his entrance.

Randy raised himself on his elbows and caught his breath at the sight of himself, seated up to the hilt in John's mouth and Evan, crouched behind his lover, his face buried between his buttocks. He picked up the bottle of lube and handed it to Evan, who tipped it over his hand and along John's crease. John grunted as Evan drove three fingers inside of him, but showed no sign of distress, nor did he slow his attentions towards Randy. Evan thrust his fingers forcefully, matching the rhythm of John's mouth as Randy watched them both. Evan changed the angle of his thrust slightly and was rewarded by a strangled cry, deep from John's throat.

Evan pumped John ruthlessly, without ceasing the movement of his fingers as he leaned forward and hissed into John's ear, "Still don't think I can do it?" As John shook his head, he caught Randy's gaze. "What about you? Think this boy is enough for you and your boyfriend here?"

Unable to speak, Randy merely nodded, but the look on John's face, as Evan removed his fingers and plunged himself fully in, drove him over the brink, and, with a raucous cry he reached his climax.

John swallowed his seed eagerly, but was soon lost in the feeling of Evan handling him roughly as he thrust into him brutally. The room was silent, except for the sound of flesh against flesh and the harsh breathing of Evan and John, while Randy watched them, spellbound. John could feel himself surrendering to the swirling vortex of sensation, as Evan filled him completely, battering against his most sensitive spot, while he pumped him without mercy. His balls tightened and, just as the heat was about to consume him, Evan stopped moving.

Evan squeezed his cock viciously, just as he was about to burst forth. "Say it!" he hissed.

John groaned and began to buck his hips, trying to engage Evan again.

Evan delivered a stinging slap to his buttock, "Say it!"

"Evan! Please!"

"Please what?" he slapped his other cheek. "Say it!" he barked.

"Please! Fuck me!"

Evan grasped his haunches and renewed his assault, pounding against his most sensitive spot, as John moaned incoherently and, finally, with a strangled cry, erupted, shooting forth several pearly strands. As he felt John's muscles contract around him, Evan hurled himself into the abyss and slumped over the other man, shaking from the force of their coupling. Finally, he eased himself away carefully and retreated to the bathroom.

"Damn," Randy said in admiration, "he had you begging. Even I can't do that. Still worried that little Mr Sweet and Innocent can't cope with our games?"

"Jesus no!" John groaned, rolling onto his back. "I'm beginning to think he can show us a thing or two."

"I think I agree with you," he said, as Evan returned to the room with a wet cloth.

Evan took in the picture before him: Randy sitting up, leaning against the headboard and John, sprawled on his back, his head resting on Randy's thighs. "You two look exhausted. I guess a couple of pensioners like you can't keep up with a youngster like me."

"Who are you calling old?" Randy demanded. "I'm only three years older than you. John now, he's another story."

"Hey!" John exclaimed, catching the cloth Evan threw at him and cleaning himself with it, "Maybe so, but I'm not too old to give you a spanking!"

Randy's eyes narrowed, "And it's not like he doesn't deserve one," he drawled. "That's a really cute set of handprints you've got on your ass."

Evan took a couple of steps backwards, as Randy sprang from the bed, but he easily covered the distance between them and snatched Evan up and threw him over his shoulder, while he shrieked in outrage.

"I hope the walls in this place are soundproof," Randy said, as he tossed him onto the bed.

He attempted to scramble up, but John easily flipped him onto his stomach, and, sitting on his legs, brought his hand down with a loud slap on Evan's rump.

He let out a loud howl as John sat back admiring his handprint. "You know, I'm never going to be able to look at him, laid out in ring, in the same way," he said, as Evan squirmed beneath him.

"True," Randy said. "Especially when he's writhing on the mat, twitching his ass like he is right now."

"I don't know. All I'm going to be able think about is doing this." He leaned down and bit one of Evan's cheeks gently as he squealed in surprise. "Or this," he said, spreading Evan's buttocks, "or this," he added, leaning down, to run his tongue along Evan's crease.

"Well, there goes our PG 13 rating," Randy said mournfully as John buried his face between Evan's cheeks. Randy settled himself back on the bed as Evan began to moan and thrust his rump in the air. "Of course," he said, "the best thing about the young'uns is that they have plenty of stamina. I do believe that this boy is just about ready to go again."

"And I suppose you're not," Evan laughed, pointing at Randy's crotch, which had sprung to life as he watched John tongue him.

"I have unusual talents," Randy said. "Ask anyone. Now, I think it's my turn. Okay, it's actually John's turn, but, luckily, he wants the same thing I do."

"And that is?"

"Come up here and ride me."

Evan twisted around to look at John.

"Yep!" he said. "That's exactly what I want. To get this sweet little ass of yours all ready, so Randy can have it all to himself. That's just the kind of guy I am. You know…thoughtful, generous, and unselfish, unlike some I could name." He glared at Randy.

"Then why don't you both do it? Together."

"Both of us?" John exclaimed.

"At the same time?" Randy's eyes lit up.

"Yes." That smile appeared again. "I can take it."

John rocked back on his heels, stunned, as Randy raised an eyebrow. "You heard him, John. Why don't you help get him ready?" He picked up the lube and poured a generous amount in his palm, smoothing it down his own shaft.

He took the bottle from Randy and poured the oil down Evan's crease, gently running his fingers along it. He leaned down; pressing his chest against Evan's back, speaking softly, "You will stop us if we hurt you? Promise?" At Evan's nod, he carefully pushed two fingers into the smaller man, scissoring them slowly.

Evan pushed back against John's fingers, rutting his hips, clearly accepting the intrusion without difficulty. John slowly introduced a third finger, eliciting a soft gasp, but Evan continued to move in time with John's thrusts. Randy leaned back against the pillows, absently palming himself. How right he had been! He watched Evan strain back against John's fingers; there was so much more to him than appeared. And how mistaken he had been! He recalled that wolfish smile he had seen for the first time in the dressing room and, now, he could wait no longer. "Come here," he whispered.

Evan crawled up the bed to straddle Randy's hips and raised himself on his knees. John pulled Randy's length back and carefully guided it into Evan's opening. Both men gasped as Evan sank down easily onto his shaft and began to rise and fall together. Randy wrapped his arms around the smaller man and cradled his head with one hand, burying it in the crook of his neck. He looked at John over Evan's shoulder and nodded his head.

John approached the pair, compelled by their undulating figures; he poured a generous quantity of oil over his sex and gently separated Evan's cheeks. Randy grasped Evan's haunches to still him as John cautiously pressed the head of his shaft against his opening. Evan cried out as John began push in, but remained still until he was seated up to the hilt.

Slowly, Evan began to move, as John wrapped his arms around his chest and Randy guided his hips. John and Randy held each other's gazes; they had shared partners before, but never like this, buried together in one sheath, the friction of their arousals adding to their pleasure. Evan's head rested against Randy's chest and Randy lifted one hand to stroke his face tenderly. John bent his head to brush a kiss against Evan's dark hair and then his lips sought Randy's. Randy could feel John tremble with the force of his approaching climax and muffled his cries with his kisses, but as he felt John throb and pulse he could hold back no longer and poured his own essence forth.

Both men sagged against one another for a second as John whispered in Randy's ear, "Thank you."

Randy smiled at John, the same smile Evan had seen earlier, the smile he reserved only for John and stroked his face, but then both men turned to the smaller man between them. Randy tipped his face up and kissed him gently. "Are you okay?" he asked, disturbed to see a tear make its way down Evan's face.

Evan nodded and buried his face in Randy's chest as he and John exchanged worried glances. "I'm fine, really. Don't worry," he said, "you didn't hurt me. It's just that you two love each other so much. I feel so lucky to have been part of it for even one evening. I'll never forget it."

Neither would they, John thought, as he pressed a kiss against Evan's hair, before carefully easing away from them. He wasn't sure what he had expected beyond diversion, distraction and the thrill of the chase, but he certainly hadn't expected Evan to be so forceful, so adventurous or so lovable. He could see Randy was equally puzzled as he gently rolled Evan off him and settled him in the middle of the bed, but he couldn't help smiling as Randy stretched liked a great satisfied cat and Evan arched and yawned like a contented kitten.

He went to the bathroom and cleaned himself, bringing back a couple of wet cloths. He handed one to Randy and tenderly cleaned Evan himself. Retrieving them, he tossed them in the general direction of the bathroom and poured them each another glass of champagne. All three men drank in silence; Evan drained his glass and climbed from the bed, gathering his clothes up from the floor.

"Where do you think you're going?" Randy asked.

"Back to the other bedroom. I figured you two would want to be alone."

"Then you figured wrong," John stated. "We want you to stay here with us." His brow furrowed, "That is, if you want to."

"Of course I do. I-I just don't want to be in your way."

"Boy!" Randy barked at him, laughing at Evan's scowl, "You get that cute little ass of yours back here."

"Okay, but if you call me boy again, I'll give you a pair of handprints to match John's."

"You'd better watch it, Randy," John said as he extinguished the remaining candles, "you wouldn't be able to hide them in those little, bitty trunks of yours."

John slid into the bed and drew Evan's head onto his shoulder as Randy slung a casual arm over then both. As usual, Randy fell asleep quickly and John could tell from his deep breathing, that Evan had joined him in slumber very shortly after, but he lay awake for some time watching them both. He could just make out Randy's proud profile in the darkness and looked down at the dark head resting against his chest. People thought that Randy was amoral and uncaring, but then they also thought that Evan was childlike and innocent and, as sleep claimed him, he gave thanks that appearances could be so deceptive.

Three month later

"I don't believe it!" John exclaimed looking at Randy and Evan. "Did you two phone each other up this morning?"

Randy and Evan were dressed virtually identically in black jeans and black dress shirts.

"Well, Randy's just going to have to change. He has way more clothes than I do."

Grumbling, Randy reached into his suitcase and pulled out a white shirt.

As Randy changed, John asked Evan, "How's the rehab going?"

"You know… It's boring and sometimes you think you're never going to get better, but the doctors say it's going well."

"I told him he should go to the guy I saw for my shoulder," Randy said, "but you know what he's like."

"You mean he likes to make his own decisions?" John grinned at Randy.

"How many times do I have to tell you two not to talk about me like I'm not here?" Evan complained.

Both men looked embarrassed, but smiled fondly at Evan. By the time Evan had gone for his surgery and long recovery, John and Randy had realised that he had become an important part of their strange, secret lives. When Randy had suggested that they pursue Evan he had expected nothing more than a distraction for John and a few nights of pleasure, but, somehow, Evan had found a place in their hearts. Both were amazed at how easily Evan had filled the space between them and how natural it seemed to have him there.

There had been a few difficult moments such as the dismay John had experienced on learning that Randy had met Evan alone when he was on a break and Evan had gone to visit his parents in St Louis. Randy had been surprised by the anger he felt when John admitted that he had flown to Florida for a Make A Wish function a day early to meet Evan in Tampa. But the first time Evan had sought them out to recount his night with someone else, they spent the night ravaging him over and over again, even as they asked for more details.

"Wow! Swagger, who'd have thought?" Randy had said afterwards. "Our boy's a sly one."

"Do you really think him he made him kiss his feet?" John had asked.

"He's made you beg. On more than one occasion, I might add."

"He's more like us than we realised."

"More like us!" Randy had snorted, "The boy's just like us!"

Although meetings had been rare while Evan recovered, when John and Randy learned he was flying up to Connecticut to report on his progress to the WWE doctors, both had manufactured excuses to be in Stamford at the same time.

As the three relaxed with a beer in their hotel room before going out for dinner, Randy turned to John and asked, "Do you think Evan might be a little depressed these days?"

"I do believe you're right," John answered.

"Do you think, maybe, he needs something to look forward to for when he gets back?"

"I couldn't agree more."

"Who?" Randy asked.

"Maybe Morrison?" John suggested.

They looked at Evan, who shook his head. "Too much hair. I like 'em stubbly," he said rubbing his knuckles across John's scalp.

"What about Kidd?" John asked.

"Been there." As both heads swivelled to look at him in amazement, he shrugged, "We've known each other a long time."

"I guess Slater's out of the question," Randy stated. "Too much hair?"

"Anyway, I heard he was hooking up with Sheamus."

"Oh my God!" Evan burst into laughter. "Two soulless gingers! What a pair! But," he added, "I do have an idea."

Randy and John both looked at him expectantly.

"David."

"You can't mean Otunga!" Randy pulled a face.

"No," Evan rolled his eyes, "Smith."

"David Hart Smith?" John exclaimed. "You've got to be kidding. He'd never go for it."

"Um- John, that's what you said about Evan."

"Okay then. What makes you think he might? He seems awfully young and innocent. I know, I know," John held up his hand, "that's what I said about Evan."

"I can tell you, he's not nearly as innocent as he looks," Evan said.

Randy raised an eyebrow, "And what makes you say that?"

"Because he's been fucking Natalya since they were twelve. Tyson told me."

John choked on his beer as Randy burst into laughter. "You must admit that Evan certainly has the capacity to surprise us."

"So, what do you think?" Evan asked.

John thought of the brawny Canadian youth and pictured Evan in his arms while Randy imagined him on his knees eagerly swallowing John as he and Evan watched.

"Bret would kill us if he found out."

"Bret's not going to find out," Randy said. "Anyway, that just makes it more… interesting."

So, what do you think?" Evan asked again.

"I like it," John said.

"So do I," Randy added.

"Then we're agreed?"

John raised his beer in a silent toast to the other two men, Randy's mouth quirked up at one corner and Evan smiled, showing his eye teeth.

The chase was on.