3rd person/Randy's POV

The night had gone good. Everyone worked their asses off and tonight was a night that it really paid off. In the middle of pulling his shirt off, Dean stopped with his eyes locked on the crawling grossness on the wall. "Is it too much to ask they give us a clean fucking locker room?" His lips told the brave lie of his disgust as his mind was screaming at him to grab his stuff and leave without a shower. "How are we suppose to work when our stuff is back here in these infested cells?" As he complained, his bag was picked up and held to his chest. Seth was the only one with him to see the show. "It's just one spider, Jon. I'm pretty sure it's not an infestation. Besides, we're leaving." The harmless arachnid was closed in the farm boy's hands.

Being brought up in Iowa and wrestling almost anywhere, Colby was no stranger to bugs and things. The gathered specimen was brought a step closer to the lunatic who hugged the backpack closer. "What's in your bag that you don't want this little guy to see?" The two-toned superstar wasn't that big of a jerk but the arachnophobia had never been a problem before. When they traveled together and a spider was saw, one of the others killed it before Dean had time to panic.

At this time, Orton walked in with narrowed eyes at his boyfriend. "What's with you?" The youngest of the three cut in with an answer. "He thinks the arena's overran with spiders." The Viper's own dislike of the creature made him glance around the room until he caught the feared puppy dog look the blond wore. "HE HAS IT IN HIS HANDS." At first, Randy added a short distance between himself and the wild eight legs. Though, being the brother and father he was, the third generation wrestler was used to putting his own dislike aside for someone he loved and he closed in on the new pet.

Larger hands clapped around Seth's the push them down around the spider. Flesh snapped together before the younger one opened his palms; a crumpled dead black ball in the middle. It was too close for Randy's liking but he scoffed off the goosebumps forming on his arms. Stringy hair was mushed under a light smack to the back of the head to leave the right message. "Go wash your hands."

Once the third wheel walked out of the room, the blond was looked at. "You realize this is why I don't pick you up, don't you?" The more private accommodations for the bigger names kept them apart until they met back at the parking lot. Though the romantic thought of walking out together proved to be a bad one. "I'll meet you back on the bus." Reaching for the door had Dean reaching for tattoos. "Wait. What if there's more?" The blond's verbal rumble sounded a lot like a pout. The puppy eyes had since faded to a gentle smirk. It could have been gushed over but Randy still wanted to appear mad. "Fine. But you're staying up front."

Time could have been counted down to the moment he felt the other push up against the printed arm questioning why. "Because you stink." They both knew Dean wore the scent of sweat well. "I stink? You never complained before." Jon nearly shouted while they walked out of the room. "That's because it's usually because of me." The end of the 12 time champ's comment was heard by a returning Seth. Sure, it would have been nice to know he was coming back to no one but it was kind of worth it to witness the two in their own world.