Don't Stop the Love
Cool turquoise eyes scanned the dance floor peering in between the flashing colors and grinding bodies. The heavy bass line was pulsing around the local club moving through all the dancers. Most of them had some form of alcohol flowing through them as well. And a few might have had some other substances in the systems but he always avoided those. The ones that looked like they were having too much fun were never much fun for him.
"Another beer hun?" The bartender rested her elbows on the bar and leaned over to him.
He smirked when he turned back to her; the music wasn't that loud by the bar. He did appreciate the way the angle showed off her curves though. She was cute little number with blonde hair and big brown eyes. The tight black tank top was just the right fit over supple breasts. He knew that there'd be plenty to grab onto and enjoy while still having just enough left to spill out of his palm when her back arched up into him. He raked his appraising eyes down the rest of her toned body; those crescents hips had matching tattoos peeking up out of tight black pants. A shudder almost rippled up his spine.
"Sounds good sweetheart," he made sure to brush her hand when he gave her the empty bottle.
She looked up at him coquettishly through thick black lashes; he held her gaze with fierce eyes, but allowed a half smile to twitch over his lips. Her bubblegum tongue dated out to dab at her own glittery pout. His shoulders slumped when she turned back to the cooler.
"Too easy," he thought with a small internal sigh. "But… damn that ass."
He licked his own lips and shrugged. "If no one else comes along…"
He smiled at her again when she placed a new beer in front of him. He sipped it as he went back to looking over the crowd. He laughed at a few of his peers as they danced like none had a care in the world. It was nice when the rosters had lay-overs in the same city. He doubted if any of them would be fresh for the meet and greets in the morning but they all needed to have a little fun once in a while.
John waved at him. He showed off the girl he had found for the night by twirling her around. He nodded in approval. The red head was a definitely attractive; John knew what he was doing. He'd taught him well. Of course, John had those infamous 'Cena dimples' to work with too. A flash of cornflower hair and a purple fedora suddenly obscured John and his girl. He chuckled at the kids from ECW; he couldn't help rolling his eyes as they pressed so close to each other he wouldn't be surprised if they mutated into one solid being.
"Ah… young love," a familiar sigh saddled up next to him.
"You got a problem with Jack and Mikey?" He kept the gravel in his voice for good measure.
The blonde tucked some of his wavy tresses back behind his ear. "Of course not, they remind me of me and Jay."
This time the rolling of those steely blue eyes was complete with a swig of beer. "How's he doing in TNA anyway?"
If it hadn't been so dark inside the club he would have been blinded by his current tag partner's toothy grin. He laughed quietly to himself as he thought of an old joke about Adam having too many pearly whites for his mouth before he heard what the blonde's response was.
"He's great; really enjoying it over there. He's about to get the strap."
"Well you'll match then," he referred to their own tag belts.
Adam nodded. "So why are you over here brooding? Don't tell me there isn't enough prey here for you to have fun with."
He chuckled again. "I'm scoping the option behind the bar. And why are you concerned about my company tonight?"
"Randy… We're tag partners and friends… I'm just lookin' out for ya."
"Oh okay," he mocked. "This does not qualify as team work though."
"Are you trying to tell me that I cramp your style Orton?"
Randy laughed loudly that time, his eyes scrunching at the corners. "Something like that Copeland."
"Well…" Adam grabbed his new bottle of beer and turned back for the corner table that he had and the Hardy's had claimed.
Randy watched him saunter over; he smiled when Jeff waved at him and returned the gesture; doing the same to Matt after his brother nudged him. The elder Hardy waved sheepishly at Randy and his attention quickly returned to the dance floor. Randy glanced in the direction that Matt was focused and shook his head. No surprise there, Evan Bourne always had Matt's devout attention. The small brunette was wrapped securely in the arms of the Shaman of Sexy. Both had huge smiles plastered on their faces that seemed to mirror the ones at the table. Suddenly a rainbow burst around them. Jeff had slunk up behind his boy and slipped his arms around his hips, deft fingers splaying out over those amazing abs. John Morrison melted completely into the embrace laying his head on Jeff's shoulder. He grazed those full lips along the intricate pattern of stubble on Jeff's chin twining his arms up around his neck. Randy knew his fingers would come to rest on the Hardy Boys' symbol tattooed on Jeff's neck and back. He looked away when they finally found each other's mouth. He had just enough time to watch Evan pounce on Matt back at the table. The darker Hardy grinned as Evan carded his hand through his thick ebony locks.
Randy smiled again and sipped his beer. "Wonder what time she gets off work?"
~xxx~
The sun had risen only a few hours ago; it was just starting to take away the night chill and Randy was leaning against the small balcony off his room at the hotel with a cigarette dangling between his fingers. The morning breeze kissed his bare chest, not quite the right temperature for goose bumps. He let his head loll forward hoping to stretch the kinks out of his shoulders. He knew he had to hurry up if he was going to meet John for their work out in the gym. He pulled another deep drag off his cigarette and dropped the butt down off the balcony. He dragged his hands over his face and headed inside to wake up the blonde from the bar.
He leaned over the bed and shook her shoulder. Those doe eyes fluttered opened and she smiled sleepily at him. She looked quite comfy.
"Too comfy," Randy thought.
"Mornin hun," she half yawned tucking a strand of hair back.
"Hi there. I've got to head out soon so you need to get yourself together."
Her expression dropped just a little bit. "Oh… yeah. Sure." She sat up and let the sheets drape down off her shoulder.
Randy went back out onto the balcony inhaling the fresh air sharply. He listened as she picked her clothes up off the floor and tugged them back on. He heard her come through the door out onto the balcony. He tensed when he felt a hand sweep across his lower back.
"Do you know the next time you'll back through this way?" she asked.
He cringed at her hopefulness. "No. Probably not for a while, there's another leg to this tour."
"Oh... Well it was fun."
"It was." He turned around to face her but avoided her attempt at snuggling into his chest. "I'm gonna be late, I've gotta get ready."
She bit her lip and followed him inside. He headed straight for the door and held it open for her. She paused on the threshold looking up at him again.
"Good-bye. Get back safe okay." He eased the door closed.
Randy went into the bathroom to brush his teeth; he grabbed a sleeveless t-shirt out of his bag and shoved his feet into sneakers. Pocketing his phone and key card he headed down to the gym to meet John.
The gym was still relatively quiet proving just how many had been out last night. Randy found John over by the treadmill. He was just finishing up his stretches.
"Finally dude, "John barked. "Jeez. Was it hard to get her out the door this morning?"
"Always is after they spend the night with me," he retorted.
"Oh yeah? 'Cause I've heard some things Ortz."
"What have I told you about listening at my door Cena?"
John snickered. "Now how can I possibly have time for that when I'm busy with my own thing… And what a thing she was."
Randy shook his head as he began to warm up. He let John get lost in his memories for a minute but the quiet didn't last. It was rarely quiet when John was around; Randy had come to enjoy that about him.
"Okay Ortz let's get this shindig under way. That meet and greet's at 11."
"How many people do you think are actually gonna be on time for that?" Randy snickered.
"I know at least 2."
"Who?"
"Well Punk will be fine; kid drinks pepsi all night and Evan. He's not nearly old enough to drink."
Randy laughed, the sound echoed off the walls and equipment in the gym.
"Will you stop; Evan's old enough to drink."
"Barely," John cocked an eyebrow daring Randy to argue.
"You better not let Matt catch ya talkin' shit."
"He's too busy cradle-robbin'"
Randy chuckled and got onto the treadmill. "Only you man."
~xxx~
The two house shows had been great; the fans were really beginning to pop for Rated RKO and Randy loved being a heel again. He and Adam worked well together, and he was learning how to work better as a tag team competitor. Their chemistry didn't look forced anymore, as evident by the belts they were holding. It was the roster's last night in the city and most of the wrestlers were content with returning to the hotel and relaxing before their flight tomorrow. But Randy was currently posted against a wall at some dive bar leaning on his pool cue. His navy blue eyes drank up the sight of his opponent leaning over the table. An ass like two globes stuffed into tight denim jeans seemed to sway back and forth as the muscular brunette concentrated on his shot. Randy watched the way his forearms flexed in his red shirt when he connected the stick to the balls. Cat-like green eyes shone over the table at him when the boy smirked confidently at Randy.
"I didn't leave you with much of a shot," he declared in an easily intelligent sounding voice.
"Pity, I was hoping for a good night." Randy pushed himself to his full height and watched the way the boy's sage eyes darkened while he raked them over his body. "Guess I'll just have to try harder to sink this."
Randy made sure to brush his palm over his jeans high up on his thickly muscled thigh. He smirked when his opponent poked his tongue out to wet his lips. Randy moved around the table with the swagger of a panther. He noticed a difficult bank shot on the other side. He fitted himself between the pool table and the boy and bent down at just the right angle skimming his ass along the front of his jeans.
He smirked to himself as he lined up his shot. "Too easy."
The 10-ball teetered on the edge of the pocket before falling into the hole and when Randy stood upright the pool cue wasn't the only stick in the game. He strolled around the table to find his second shot; he could feel those green eyes burn holes through his back.
"8-ball corner pocket," he called.
Ignoring the remainder of the balls the rules demanded he hit first he went directly to the winning shot indicating he wanted his prize now. The black ball flew down to the right corner pocket; it never had a chance.
"Finally," he heard his opponent sigh. "Take me back to the hotel and I'll give you your reward."
Randy smirked and hung his cue back up on the wall; the boy laid his on the table and was waiting eagerly when he turned around.
"Let's go," Randy went to the door.
When they got outside Randy lit up a cigarette; his companion slipped it from his mouth and put it to his own lips. Sage green eyes smirked at him through the smoke but Randy merely took another out of his pack.
The Legend Killer was grateful that the cab ride back to the hotel was brief. The air between the wrestler and the boy was a thick, palpable mist. As they made their way to the elevator Randy slid his hand into the boy's back pocket and gave a firm squeeze. Those cat-like eyes darkened even more and their owner purred low in his throat. Randy put his other hand on the subtle curving of the brunette's hip; it left him slightly disappointed but another squeeze of that ass almost made up for it. He located John and a few of the other guys at a table in the hotel restaurant; Cena's clear cerulean eyes squinted to make out his friend's choice. He nodded in agreement and gave Randy a thumbs-up. Punk simply shook his head not understanding in the least. Adam chuckled warmly and reported the goings-on into his cell phone undoubtedly to Jay. Once in the elevator the boy pushed Randy up against the wall. He gazed up at him with half lidded eyes and began to paw at the champion's chiseled abs. Randy grabbed his wrists stilling his attempts to undress him in the elevator. He spun him around and pulled his ass flush against his groin.
The doors of the lift opened and Randy placed his large hand at the nape of his companion's neck to direct the boy to his room.
~xxx~
The sun was just making its way into the sky as Randy smoked a cigarette out on his balcony. The tension in his shoulders told him it was probably going to rain soon. He flexed his neck side to side trying to ease some of the pain. It was chillier today and he absently wondered where his TEAMS sweatshirt went.
"Cena took it… Damnit!" He grumbled.
He finished his cigarette and tossed the butt to the ground below. He raked a hand through his shot dark hair and headed inside. The boy from the bar was sprawled over a side of the bed with a sheet haphazardly thrown across his back. Randy tapped him on the shoulder and moved to shaking him gently.
"Rise and shine Sleeping Beauty," he called.
Rolling over the sheet slipped further and Randy spotted the beginning of curls. He stretched languidly arching his back much like a cat. Slowly he opened his green eyes but resisted getting up.
"Why are you awake so early? You can't be ready for more yet," he smirked closing his eyes again.
"Tempting… But no," Randy retorted, grabbing his cell phone off the night stand. "I have a flight to catch and I'm sure you must have somewhere to be by now."
"Seriously?" His green eyes popped open.
"Quite."
The boy threw the covers back finally exposing himself completely. Randy went back out onto the balcony. He listened as the brunette gathered his things and sighed in relief when he heard the door open and then click shut. He accessed his phone's keyboard and typed out a message to John.
I want my hoodie motherfucker… Don't make me RKO your ass in the airport.
He headed back inside with a chuckle. He threw his phone on the messy bed, grabbed his shower stuff and went into the bathroom.
~xxx~
The airplane seat was too small for Randy fit comfortably in; this was something he'd grown used to. His legs were too long to be scrunched in by the window and when he stretched them out in the aisle he was in the way. He forced a fake apologetic smile to the flight attendant as he tucked his legs back up for her to get her cart passed. John was passed out and snoring in the window seat next to him. Randy had tried to get some sleep as well but that proved a useless endeavor; John was too loud and he'd have to keep waking up to move his legs. He watched as another flight attendant wheeled her cart toward him; this one had a bowl of butter balanced precariously on the bottom shelf. This gave Randy an idea. He cast a devilish glance at John and stuck his legs right in the aisle.
"Excuse me sir," the stewardess smiled.
"I'll make a deal with you miss," Randy smiled his deep blue eyes lighting up with mischief and barely contained laughter. "If you supply me with all the butter I need for a specific project and don't ask questions I'll never be in your way again."
She glanced at the helpless man sitting beside Randy in a warm looking TEAMS hoodie on and a baseball cap pulled down over his eyes. She very discreetly handed the bowl of butter to Randy and continued up the aisle. The former World Champion turned carefully and squished his knees in the space left by the airplane seats. John mumbled and picked his head up as if he was going to remove his hat and look around, but his head fell right back to the side and he soon began to snore again. A dangerous spark flashed in Randy's serpentine eyes. He very carefully and as quietly as possible began to peel off the seal of the butters placing each open container on the tray in front of him. The few passers-by would quirk their eyebrows and then snicker as they went to the bathroom or headed back to their seat.
"So just where are planning on putting all this butter Ran?"
He briefly looked up from his nearly covered tray, a smile slithered its way onto his face. Mike had his phone turned around and was obviously recording the mission.
"I haven't actually decided yet, I can't get his pants down without waking him up."
Mike had to cover his mouth with his hand to hold in his laugher. John's snores hitched for just a second and Randy sneered willing death if his fried dared to wake up when he was so close to completion. But the WWE champion simply turned his head mumbling something about jam and leprechauns.
"What?" Mike scrunched his azure eyes.
"He has the weirdest dreams dude. You wouldn't believe what I could tell ya from when we used to room together," Randy informed placing the last circle of butter on the corner of the tray. "Think I could get it on his face without waking him up?"
"Hmm…" Mike reached and touched the top of one butter with his pinky. "If you let them sit for a little while longer so there nice and spreadable."
"How much longer 'til we land?"
"Um… Jackie, how much longer on this bird?" He hissed over the aisle.
A blonde head popped up three seats over. The large blonde had tried to crunch himself up in his aisle seat much like Randy had. He glanced at his watch before answering in an adorable nap thickened lisp.
"Almost 2 hours."
Mike kept his camera focused on his blonde for just a few more seconds before turning it back to 'Operation Butter' as he had silently dubbed it.
"Plenty of time," he nodded. "Start with the ones that have been open for a while in about 20 minutes and you should be able to get a nice spread."
Randy studied the lay out in front of him for a moment and then nodded as well. "That was what I was thinkin'"
"Who's sittin' here?" Mike motioned to the seat directly across the small aisle next to Randy.
"Morrison… He's been in the bathroom for a while now." Randy's brows furrowed and he hoped the younger superstar was alright.
Mike smirked and flipped his phone back around. He opened up the keyboard and began to type a text message. Randy paid him no mind as he looked over the sleeping giant beside him in a reconnaissance mission. He heard the buzz of Mike's phone as it vibrated with an answering text.
"I asked Evan where Jeff was and wouldn't ya know he's been in the bathroom a hot minute now too," the former reality star conveyed.
Randy simply shook his head as Mike took his tag partner's seat to keep filming Operation Butter.
"This is definitely going up on face book," he declared.
The Legend Killer chuckled and patiently tested the consistency of the first butter he had opened. His finger came away with some on it but it wasn't quite the right texture yet. He and Mike whispered back and forth for a little while; their topic turning to their craft. Mike was so eager to learn everything anyone could teach him. The Ohio native wanted to hear all the stories about Randy's dad and what being a kid was like backstage. Randy indulged him in a few; he didn't mind talking about his family when it was obvious the person was generally interested and the attempts were not just vapid excuses to get closer to the third generation superstar. Some of the new Divas could testify to that. Randy could already tell that the female division in the WWE was in trouble. He missed the days when the ladies knew as much about the sport as the men; Sherri Martel, Bull NaknoLuna Vachon, even Trish Stratus and Lita came to mind.
"Once they leave we're screwed," he thought.
"What are ya'll doin?" Jeff drawled as he and John came back to the brunette's seat.
Randy glanced over the two and had to grin, Jeff's face was totally flushed and John's thick dark mane was hopelessly tangled.
"Is that a hickey Donna?"
John's hand flew to his neck and a blush exploded over his cheeks. "Shut up Cheesehead!"
Mike laughed. "Uh-oh, the Prima Donna's all marked up. Whatever will you do?"
John cuffed his partner in the back of the head with a growl. Mike's laughter cut off and he glared up at the other boy.
"Dude… Really?"
"Mikey?" Jack suddenly leaned out into the aisle so he could see his lover directly.
The slumbering champion began to stir again. Randy immediately growled and whipped his head to the aisle; a steely glare froze all the commotion like an arctic blast.
"He wakes up now you all die," he proclaimed through clenched teeth.
Jeff rolled his eyes and tugged on John's back belt loop. "C'mon doll, let them finish what they've started. We can watch the fallout from a safe distance."
John glared at Mike but allowed the younger Hardy Boy to take him further down the aisle toward his seat by Evan and Matt. Jack loomed in their place taking up the space that two had occupied. He placed a large hand on Mike's shoulder and the olderboy instantly relaxed.
"Everything alright?" The All-American American asked keeping his artless blue eyes trained on John and Jeff until the rainbow boy pulled the brunette down into the seat with him. He heard Evan squeak out when he was squished as they tried to fit the extra body.
"Fine babe," Mike's smile beamed.
"What the hell are you guys doing over here?" Jack inquired finally looking at the tray laid out in front of Randy.
"It's Operation Butter. I'm posting this on face book later."
The former champion was watching John intently. His nose was twitching with silent snores but his breathing wasn't as shallow as it should be. Randy shushed the ECW kids trying to compel John back into a deep sleep. He waited barely containing the urge to smother the current champion with his pillow; although he'd have to reach it first. John flipped his head around so his face was leaning up toward Randy; a loud snore buzzed out of his mouth. Randy's lips slid up into a maniacal grin and he grabbed the first container of butter in callused finger tips.
~xxx~
Randy was watching the monitor in the back as RAW opened up. The locker room door kept opening and closing with the heavy foot traffic that was typical for a T.V. night. Randy laughed when John came through the curtain; his face was still red from scrubbing off the butter.
"Fuckin' priceless," Randy congratulated himself. "Steal my shit next time Cena."
"I know that grin, what have you done kid?"
Randy smiled at his old mentor. "Hey Hunter. You didn't hear about Operation Butter?"
"Operation Butter?" The Game cocked a brow as he took a seat on the bench next to the former Evolution member.
"Mike took the liberty of naming it. Apparently he's posting it on face book. I covered John's face with butter on the plane."
"You covered his face with butter?"
"You don't understand… When I say covered I mean you coulda buttered your toast with his face for years."
Hunter chuckled and shook his head. "Is this really what happens now? I'm kinda happy I've upgraded to McMahon's private jet."
"The simple perks for marrying the boss' daughter."
"Well I missed the flight with you boys, the baby's sick," Hunter explained.
"Oh. Something serious?"
"Just a little cold, she'll be fine. But I haven't been home in a while and she wanted Daddy to lay with her this morning."
Randy smiled at the soft look that crept into Hunter's eyes. For all his 'Cerebral Assassin' methods in the ring, Hunter were completely wrapped around his girls' fingers; Stephanie's just as much as his daughter's.
"I'm sure you kissed it better Dad."
"Anyway," Hunter seemed to remember his business on finding his old protégé. "Vince signed a new wrestler and he wants you to meet him and maybe take him under your wing a little."
"Like you did with me?"
"Kinda, I mean as much I liked ya kid it took a little bit to get used to ya. But you should be right at home with the new boy."
"Oh?" Randy furrowed his brows. "Who is it?"
"I'll let you figure out," Hunter smiled. "He'll be here when you and Adam finish your match. You're probably losing the tag belts soon too."
Randy sighed; he knew it wasn't going last that long but still he and Adam had just found their grove. He thought they could do a few more good things with their run.
"Don't look so disappointed. I said soon not tonight and you can't keep the tag titles if you have the World title around your waist," Hunter informed.
"They're puttin' the strap back on me?"
"They're getting things in place for another Randy Orton title run. If things work out the way we want you're going to become quite the main eventer."
"I kinda thought John and I proved that already."
"Don't get cocky kid." Hunter warned. "That's still some time in the future and could just as easily not happen."
"No, I know that. I was just sayin' is all. Me and Cena have worked some epic matches." Randy shrugged.
"I know. That's why you're getting the new boy and a push in a little while."
"Orton, I'm gonna kick ass!" John thundered as he tackled the locker room door. It flew open and crashed against the wall. "You mother-… Hey Hunter."
John wilted in the doorway and he smiled sheepishly at the older wrestler.
Hunter laughed and winked at Randy. "So I hear you were a real butter face earlier, 'eh Cena."
"Oh you know me Hunt," a light shade of pink kissed the champion's cheeks.
"I do," Hunter stretched out his knee before he stood up. "So I know you better be careful, revenge is gonna be hell kid."
"And so sweet," John added.
Randy chuckled and got up as well. Hunter clapped him on the shoulder and headed down the hall to find Shawn. John turned on his friend when they were alone again with a snarl. His blue eyes flashed almost as dark as Randy's could and he lunged at the younger boy. That seemed to be the end of John's plan though. He managed to power Randy down to the floor but then lacked another idea. He settled for trying to pull Randy's trunks so far up his ass they'd come out of his mouth.
"Ah… Jesus, you're gonna rip them and I don't have another pair for tonight fucker." Randy howled.
"Good. I hope you have to go out there bare assed," John gritted his teeth and pulled harder. "Tap bitch!"
"Never." Randy clawed at the tiles trying to get enough leverage to flip off his stomach. "You're like an 800 pound gorilla… Ugh!"
"Is this a private party or can anybody join?" Adam quipped from the doorway.
"You can't tag him now Ortz!" John exclaimed.
"Well as fun as this looks, we gotta go out in 5." Adam chuckled. "Let him up John."
"Yeah Cena, I've gotta go give these people what they paid for after listening to you be a blowhard for a half hour."
"Oh, that's it…. You better sleep with one eye open buddy." John clambered to his feet.
Wheezing, Randy draped himself over the bench and began to peel his wrestling trunks, which had now become a thong, out of his ass. "Christ dude."
"Like you've never had anything shoved up there before."
"Well yeah but usually it's not rape with pleather."
Adam laughed. "That sounds like a night Jeff might enjoy."
"Oh man, has JoMo told you those stories too?" John snickered.
Adam and Randy shared a confused, disturbed look. "I didn't know you and Johnny were that close Cena."
"Dude, it was like last month after the pay-per-view… We were all hammered at that bar in Phoenix," the champion reminded.
"Oh yeah…" Randy recalled. "We accidently almost drowned Evan."
"Yeah we really did," John replied much too serious all of a sudden. "Thank God Jack was there."
"See, I told you he was old enough to drink," Randy proclaimed.
"Oh yeah… Huh. I forgot."
Adam hurried his tag partner along telling him they were going to miss their entrance; Randy fixed himself up then followed the blonde to the curtain. They made it just as their pyro went off and Randy flexed his neck slipping into his in ring persona like another skin.
"I forgot to ask John if he knew who the new kid was," the former champion thought just before he morphed into Randy Orton one half of the tag team champions.