"Shawn's passed out in the locker room."
Hunter winced upon hearing Vince McMahon's voice. He wasn't in the mood to play 'mom,' tonight. But who else would? Kevin and Scott had already left to the hotel, and besides, they weren't that much help even when they were around.
Hunter had been looking forward to leaving the arena without incident, but instead he turned to see his boss gesticulating wildly; practically foaming at the mouth. "When he wakes up, you can tell him he's fired!"
Hunter resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "You can't fire Shawn," he replied, trying to be the voice of reason.
"I can do whatever I want," Vince hissed. "Now get him out of here!"
Hunter nodded as he headed back to the locker room. He was sure Vince would change his mind by morning, or even sooner. Not that Vince didn't have a right to be angry– dragging Shawn out of the locker room every night was starting to wear on Hunter too, but it wasn't like he could force Shawn to stop using. Hunter had tried ultimatums, cheerleading, pleading, even begging in moments of weakness, but it was all for naught.
Shawn was the first thing Hunter saw when he finally entered the locker room. He was passed out on one of the benches, tights half off, half on. It seemed he had gotten one of his limbs stuck in the pant leg, and had quickly given up on breaking free. His long hair was tangled and hung in front of his face, swaying with each breath that came out of Shawn's mouth.
Hunter took a seat next to Shawn's head and tried to steel himself. He wasn't sure which Shawn he would be dealing with when he woke– argumentative Shawn, barely intelligible Shawn, pain in the ass Shawn…
But at least it was quiet for now. The rest of the locker room had cleared out awhile ago, and that left just the two of them.
Hunter grabbed Shawn's shoulder and began to shake it, trying to rouse him. No response. Hunter shook harder. More of the same. He got up and knelt in front of Shawn, his muscles throbbing as he began the process of getting his friends' tights off properly. It didn't help that Shawn still had his boots on. Letting out a breath of annoyance, Hunter pulled at the laces, trying to remove them in the most efficient manner possible. Once the boots were off, Shawn's tights quickly followed.
"Mm…" Shawn rolled onto his side, his eyelids fluttering. "Not now, Hunt…"
Hunter snorted. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty. Time to get up." He gave Shawn a shove and pulled fresh clothes out of his bag.
Shawn opened one eye and smiled. He mumbled something and Hunter squinted. "Sorry, didn't catch that."
Shawn looked like he might try again, but he just closed his eyes.
"Hey, hey! Stay with me," Hunter said, clapping his hands together.
Shawn groaned and sat up in one swift motion. "Shit," he grunted. "Where the fuck're my pants?"
"Right here, big guy," Hunter replied, patting Shawn's duffel bag. "Now come on." Hunter positioned a hoodie over Shawn's head, trying to get it on.
"I can do it," Shawn protested, grabbing the hoodie. Hunter released it, not taking the bait to argue with him. He watched as the other man struggled to accomplish the simple chore of getting his head through the neck hole. After a minute of watching Shawn try to shove his head through the sleeve of the hoodie, Hunter stepped in.
"Come on, we don't have all night Shawn." Hunter repositioned the sweater and slipped it over Shawn's torso.
"Fuck, I almost had it," Shawn argued. "Don't need you to do everything for me."
"I think you do," Hunter replied, growing exasperated, although he wasn't sure why. It sucked to see Shawn like this, struggling to even dress himself. But anger was an easier emotion to deal with than the sadness that came with really examining the situation.
"Come on buddy," Hunter began, "Pants next."
"Pants next," Shawn echoed, his tone mocking. He scowled as he stood up, letting his head rest against Hunter's shoulder. He seemed too tired to stand by himself, let alone continue arguing while doing it.
Straining a bit in the close proximity, Hunter snapped the button of Shawn's jeans and pulled his zipper up. "There." Hunter leaned in, lining his lips up with Shawn's ear. "Shoes and we're out of here, alright?"
Hunter felt Shawn's hand wrap around his waist and grab his ass in response. He laughed. "Alright there, bud," he replied, sitting Shawn back down. "Maybe later."
A few minutes later and Shawn's shoes were on. "Time to get out of here," Hunter said, helping Shawn to his feet.
"Where are we goin'?" Shawn drawled, tossing an arm around Hunter's shoulders.
"The hotel." Hunter placed a hand in the small of Shawn's back, steering him forward.
"It's always the hotel with you."
Hunter wasn't sure what Shawn meant by that, and he wasn't about to ask. The pair made their way out of the arena and piled into Hunter's rental car. He wasn't looking forward to the next morning, when they'd have to come back and get Shawn's car, and argue about why he even had one when he was rarely in any condition to drive it.
For now, Shawn was already asleep again, his head resting against the dashboard. Hunter gave him one last envious look before beginning the drive back to the hotel, careful not to hit any bumps.