Chapter: 7: Hot

Author's Note: This chapter was going to be a hell of a lot longer, but there's some scenes that might wind up taking a little bit longer to write, and it just feels more right with some of the upcoming conversations if I broke the one long chapter into two. Plus, it means I update sooner! Yay! Haha. Anyway, hope you enjoy, and happy Halloween! =)

~Now you're in, and you can't get out.

You make me so hot,
Make me wanna drop.
You're so ridiculous,
I can barely stop.~

The morning after their first sexual encounter, it takes everything in the young high flyer to not immediately revert back to his flight mode and go back to ignoring the Viper's texts, calls, mere presence as much as he can manage with their close work proximity, the reality of the situation once again almost too much to handle. But, he reminds himself, Orton may have made the first move, be the sex itself had been his idea. And if he's completely and totally honest with himself, it had been nothing short of mind-blowing (though he's the only one he's going to be honest with about that, thank you very much). So really, he thinks, what's the harm in keeping up a mutually beneficial arrangement such as this? Nothing, he tells himself, opening a new text to his newfound fuck-buddy.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Colby takes every advantage he can find to slip away from his friends and co-workers and make his way to fucking Randy Orton, just so he can find himself on the receiving end of some of the most earth-shattering orgasms he's had in recent years (or ever, a voice says). The pure sexual chemistry they have is unreal, something Colby can't quite recall ever achieving with anyone else, at least on this level, and it leads to more than a handful of near-electric encounters that leave the high flyer's mind reeling, trying desperately to catch up to the feelings his body experiences.

What shocks Colby the most about this whole new arrangement, though, is that, unlike every other time he's slept with one of his friends, they've somehow managed to maintain a normal friendship that doesn't revolve around sex. They still hang out at bars and in hotel rooms with Randy's friends, they still get shitty takeout and stay up for hours eating it and talking, and they still sit around in Randy's hotel room playing video games until the early morning. Which is what they're doing now, pressed up against each other side by side against the headboard, deeply involved in a game of Sonic All-Star Racing. So far, they're tied for wins, but Randy is convinced that Colby has been cheating somehow.

"One more game. Seriously, I'll stomp you." Randy snaps, almost glaring at the younger, and Colby throws his head back in a loud laugh.

"You sound like Christian. 'One more match, one more match!' Get over yourself!" the high flyer jokes, elbowing the older man in the side, and Randy can't fight his grin.

He shoves back at the younger, telling him, "Quiet, brat. Come on, though, one more game. We'll even make a wager."

And, "Loser blows winner?" Colby offers.

...Okay, so it doesn't completely revolve around sex, Colby thinks. Randy scowls at his idea, though, and Colby raises an eyebrow.

"Not fair." the older says in lieu of an explanation.

"Uhm...Winner blows loser?" the younger offers instead, and Randy smirks.

"That's more like it." he mutters, turning to the TV as he adds, "Game on, kid."

"Bring it, old man." Colby fires back, starting the game.

The end of the game finds Randy on his knees at the foot of the bed, practically worshipping the younger man's cock as Colby holds onto his shoulders as if he'll fall off the edge of the Earth if he lets go. When Colby comes, it's with the Viper's name on his lips, fingernails digging into the soft flesh beneath him, and stars dancing behind his eyes. Afterward, he and Randy both collapse onto the bed in a huff, Colby struggling to catch his breath and collect himself. Just as he feels his breathing slowing down, the tingling feeling fading out of his limbs, he feels Randy press a kiss to his shoulder, lips trailing all the way up his neck and sending a fresh shiver up his spine.

Suddenly, Randy leans up to whisper right against his ear, "I still think you cheated."

And Colby loses it, hysterical laughter spilling from him so roughly that it almost makes him choke, makes him sit up instantly so he can breathe between the fits of laughter. Tears stream from his eyes as he tries once again to catch his breath, Randy laughing almost as hard right next to him, and Colby again thinks to himself, yea, I could get used to this.

III

And really, Colby knows that he shouldn't be here right now, should be getting ready for his match and not in Randy's fucking locker room, but from his current position bent over the couch in said locker room, the Viper pounding into him roughly from behind, he just can't bring himself to care. It's a house show, anyway, he thinks, so who's really even going to notice if he's more flushed, more wrecked than usual? No one who'll matter, that's who. At least, this is what he's been telling himself since Randy had first texted him asking about the quickie they're currently engaged in. And besides, it's not like he doesn't have plenty of time, he reminds himself. His match isn't for another twenty minutes, anyway, and-

-and that's about when Colby loses all cognitive thought processes as Randy's right hand threads into his hair and wrenches his hair back for better access to his neck, teeth grazing the skin there just enough to send a solid shiver up the high flyer's spine. The sensation, coupled with the fact that Randy has been deliberately nailing his prostate with every inward stroke, has Colby clinging to the couch, babbling near incoherent phrases as he feels himself all too quickly rushing toward climax. The Viper can tell, too, speeding up his thrusts and snaking his left hand down to tug at the younger's cock, muttering soft encouragements against his skin all the while.

"Christ, you're so tight, kid. Gonna get me off so fast, fuck." Randy tells him, pressing the words right into the skin where his neck meets his shoulder, and Colby groans, dropping closer to the couch as his arms begin to tremble at the feeling. The sudden shift makes Randy smirk, sitting up more and releasing the boy's hair in favor of grabbing onto his hip so that he can push in harder. He asks a bit louder, fingertips digging into the skin beneath them, "You close too, Colby? Gonna come with me?"

Colby opens his mouth, tries to reply, but all he manages is an undignified fucking whimper, so instead he just nods quickly, forehead almost hitting the arm rest under him with the force of it. He hears the Viper laugh behind him, almost chokes when he feels Randy's hand speed up around his dick, eyes clenching shut tight. It's not even fair the way the older seems to know just how to work him over, he thinks, trying desperately to hold off his orgasm just to spite Randy. He wishes he could blame the fact that he's basically been abstinate for as long as he can remember, but he knows that's not entirely true, especially as Randy drops a kiss just behind his ear.

"Then come." Randy commands, lips grazing his skin just so when he speaks, like he can sense the way it'll make Colby come undone.

It definitely works, though, the high flyer's cum covering Randy's hand and dripping onto the couch as his orgasm is ripped from him with a strangled, "Fuck, Randy!"

The older groans loudly as he feels Colby tighten around him, fucking into the boy even faster as he chases down his own orgasm. Colby's arms tremble too much in the wake of his climax to support him, however, and after a handful of thrusts, they give out completely, dropping them both near violently forward. Randy's quick reflexes barely save them, scooping Colby back against his chest with his left arm in the last possible second, suddenly thankful he'd already thought to at least wipe off his hand. The high flyer lets out a whine as Randy alters his angle and speeds up a bit more, overwhelmed at the overstimulation. His hands fly up to grab at the Viper's arm, a desperate attempt to get his attention.

"T-too much, fucking- too much!" Colby almost whimpers, nails digging harshly into tattooed skin, but Randy doesn't seem to care, keeping up his same pace even as he responds.

"S'okay. So close, Colbs, so goddamn..." the older mutters, grip tightening both on Colby's hip and around his stomach as he suddenly stills, harsh groan spilling from his lips as he finally comes, as well.

Once his aftershocks have finally subsided, Randy loosens his grasp on the younger just enough to grab the base of the condom and pull out, dispose of the damn thing, before he's dropping onto his back on the couch, dragging Colby down with him when the high flyer tries to get up. Colby squirms in Randy's arms the slightest bit even as they both tighten around him, only falling still when the older begins to nuzzle into the scruff on his jawline, access made easy from his sideways position on the Viper's chest. The boy huffs out a half sigh of defeat, turning his head to capture Randy's lips in a slow kiss instead. As the older's tongue finds its way into his mouth, a hand also finds his hair, toying with the drenched ends of it as they both take their time to simply indulge in the kiss, explore one another as they let their racing hearts slow the slightest bit. When they eventually separate, it's with matching lazy grins, Randy's hand moving to cup the back of the boy's head, fingers locked into the hair at the base of his scalp as he lets his eyes trail over the face in front of him. Colby looks completely blissed out, dazed in a way that makes Randy want to pat himself on the back. He's just opening his mouth to comment on it when his eyes land on the clock on the wall behind the boy. It takes a lot to maintain his composure as he reads the time, biting back a curse.

"Hey, uh. What time did you need to be out of here?" Randy asks carefully, trying his damndest to keep Colby calm. It doesn't work, though, brown eyes snapping wide open as the younger whips his head around to check the time for himself.

"Shit!" Colby exclaims, extracting himself from the Viper's arms and half stumbling off the couch. As he rushes around the room throwing on his clothes as quickly as possible, he rants, "I should have been gone by now, fuck! Dean and Roman are gonna fucking kill me, oh my God. I knew this was a terrible idea. I should have-shit!"

And once again, Randy's reflexes are the only thing to save the younger from smashing his face, feet tangled in his pants from trying to walk and dress himself at the same time. After steadying the boy, Randy tugs his pants the rest of the way up for him, zipping and buttoning them with a soft smile. Pressing a quick kiss to Colby's lips, he tells him, "Relax. It's a house show. You'll be fine."

Colby sighs, turning away to look for his shoes as he replies, "Easy for you to say."

"Seriously," Randy says, scooping the shoes up off the floor and handing them to the boy, "It's not a big deal. I mean, you could always tell them we're fucking..."

The high flyer barks out a laugh at this, dropping the shoes to the floor and stepping into them as Randy tugs on his trunks for the night.

"Yea, I'm gonna go with 'no' on that one." Colby responds with a smirk, tying the shoes as quickly as he can before backing toward the door. "Nice try, though. But, I'll text you later?"

"Sounds like a plan." Randy agrees, taking the boy's chin in his hand and pulling him in for another kiss, this one deeper, before finally letting him open the door, slip out of it with a wide grin.

As he turns to head down the hall, Randy's eyes land on his ass instantly, and he can't even help himself, giving it a slap rough enough to make Colby jump. The high flyer whirls around, eyes wide and cheeks red, and it's Randy's turn to bark out a laugh, wave at his companion slyly.

"Have a good match." he tells Colby, shit-eating grin plastered across his face.

Colby just rolls his eyes, flipping him off and mouthing a clear 'fuck you' before turning and darting off down the hall. When Randy turns around himself to head back into his locker room, finish preparing for his own match, he runs right into another solid body, startling and jumping away from it with wide eyes of his own. John just clears his throat, raising an eyebrow at his friend in suspicion and crossing his arms over his chest as he nods toward the younger's locker room door. Randy does his best not to look sheepish as he opens the door for his friend, because really, he has nothing to feel sheepish about. Still, the feeling is there, at least slightly, and it has him keeping his back to the older as he makes his way around the room. After a few long moments, John is finally the first one to speak.

"I thought this was just a one-and-done kind of thing?" Cena questions, and Randy does turn to face him now, offering him a simple shrug.

"You thought wrong? I mean, I never said it was a one-and-done kind of thing. I don't know why you would assume that's what I meant when I said I was fucking him." Randy replies, and John huffs out a near angry sigh, one that has Randy fighting the urge to turn away from his friend once again, especially as the older nearly descends upon him, trying for something that looks like intimidation.

"Maybe because it's a terrible idea? Randy, you know if Hunter finds out-" Cena tries, and since that's quite possibly the last thing he wants to think about in relation to his current predicament, he interrupts John, speaking over him for good measure.

"I thought you were all gung-ho about this a few weeks ago? What the hell happened to that John? Bring him back around." the Viper half grumbles, picking out and tugging on a shirt.

"You knew what the hell I meant, Orton. Fuck the kid, get this sexual tension out of both your systems, and get on with your lives. Be friends. Like normal people." John explains, exasperation clear on his features, but still, Randy can't help but laugh.

"Right. Like you've ever confused me with normal." he snarks in response, and when John sighs now, it's with a note of something close to defeat, even throwing his hands up in added annoyance.

He should have known it was too soon before the storm to try and talk the younger out of anything, he thinks. Randy practically craves drama. Still, he has to try.

"Well, whatever, then. Do whatever it is you're going to do. Just, please, Randy, be careful." John tells his friend, and Randy certainly doesn't miss the legitimate warning tone of voice that accompanies it. In an effort to calm Cena's nerves the slightest bit, he approaches the older and claps a steady hand on his shoulder, offering him a soft smile.

"I will be. I promise, dad. I know what I'm doing here." Randy says near condescendingly. Then, he's patting John on the shoulder a few more times, adding with a wide grin, "Trust me."

And John sighs yet again, muttering mostly to himself as he follows his friend from the locker room, "That's what makes this so goddamn hard."

(Colby, on the other hand, barely makes it to the stairwell in time for his entrance. Part of him is relieved he's still sweat-soaked enough that he doesn't even need to wet his hair, ends still dripping even as he skids to a stop beside his friends. The rest of him, however, couldn't be more mortified right around the time that Dean steps in close behind him as they near the curtain, inhaling unnecessarily loudly through his nose before coughing out a laugh directly into his ear.

"Oh yea, Colbs," Dean says barely loud enough to be heard over their entrance music, the screams of the crowd, voice beyond smug, "it's definitely you that smells like sex.")