Characters: Randy Orton, Hunter Hurst Helmsly and Cody Rhodes

Warning/Rating: NC-17

"Oh man!" Hunter laughed and shook him by the shoulder as they walked, headed towards the door and Randy let out of sigh of relief as they reached it, the fresh cold air definitely helping the issue going on between his legs. "It's not funny." He grumbled again, why couldn't Hunter just let it the fuck go? Why did he have to make his life miserable by getting everyone else to chime in? Which he would too, just as soon as he came in the next morning he was certain he'd hear and see just how much of a blabber mouth his partner really was!

To his frustration but not his surprise Hunter just laughed harder, stopping to lean against the driver door of their police issue dark blue crown Victorian parked out front of the club as he held his stomach and continued to piss him off, "Dude seriously that was fucking hilarious! You should have seen the look on your face! That freak was all over you!"

"Shut up!" He snapped again with a glare as rounded the hood of the car to get to his side, "Just get in the fucking car would you? "

"Sure thing, fag-magnet." Hunter teased and just about pushed him over the edge.

Fucking. Prick. Fag magnet? He wished he could fucking deck him for that! "Remind me again why I put up with your shit?" He asked with a bitter huff and lowered himself into the car, waiting for Hunter to plop into the driver seat before continuing, "Tell me again why I don't ask for another partner?"

Hunter's laughter finally slowed to a light chuckle as he turned the key in the ignition and brought the car to life, "Because I'm the best, and you want my job."

His jaw tightened. Fuck he was right, he was the best and he did want his job. He just didn't know how much more of his shit he could take!

"Whatever, just take me home." He slammed the door and crossed his arms, glaring out the window impatiently, beyond frustrated. Between Hunter and Dashing he had a bad headache and a aching hard on. So yeah, home sounded pretty fucking good right about now and if Hunter didn't get moving soon he'd fucking WALK.

"Aw come on Randy don't pout! I'm just messing with you!"

His hands curled into fists against his sides and he took a deep calming breath. Don't pout? He wanted to hurt him. His partner really just needed to shut the fuck up!

He took another breath and had the thought to change the subject, if he didn't Hunter would go home with a black eye, "Did you find out anything about Mizanin?"

"Actually yeah I did! While you were getting felt up by some trashy stripper a little birdie told me where we could find him."

His jaw tightened again and he literally had to bite his tongue. Dashing wasn't trashy. He may not have known the guy but already he could tell that he wasn't like the others, he wasn't just some trashy slut taking off his clothes for money. No what he saw was a man entirely out of place there, just as he himself had been.

He glanced at Hunter and tried to relax and refocus on the case before the images of the dancing God returned and took over his brain and rendered him completely speechless. AGAIN.

"Where?"

"Mizanin's supposed to be here this weekend for some huge show they've got going on, something like, fags united, or some weird shit like that."

He shook his head, ignoring Hunter's other ignorant comment, he had to or he'd definitely go home with a black eye. Fucking prick. "We can't wait that long to question him. We'll have to try another one of his hang outs."

"Tomorrow." Hunter said, his voice straining as he obviously tried to fight a yawn, "I need some fucking sleep."

Randy nodded. He was on the same page as his partner on that as he was exhausted and in need of a good nights rest. Although he seriously doubted he'd find any peace with the aching hard on concealed within his jeans and knew it might take more than a quick rubbing to do the trick.

Fuck, he wanted to get LAID. More specifically he wanted to pounce on Dashing and pound into his beautiful god like body with his cock over and over. It would never happen but, it's what he really wanted at the moment, so much so that he was almost breathless again.

"Be ready early," Hunter told him and brought his attention back to their conversation. Funny, he hadn't even realized he'd checked out. "Case meeting at 8 am and the captain will skin us alive if we're late again."

He frowned at him. Shit that wasn't his fault! Hunter was the one who insisted on driving like a grandma! If he let Randy drive they'd be at work on time and WITH time to spare! Pedal to the metal baby! "I'll be outside by seven." He assured, his groin starting to painfully throb and he shifted slightly to relieve the pressure and almost groaned when that did nothing to help. Fuck he needed to get HOME and out of these goddamn jeans!

"So," Hunter seemed to ask and his tone worried him. It sounded too curious and NOSY for comfort. "What's your girlfriend going to say when she finds out that you got felt up by another guy tonight?"

"Don't have one." He shrugged and broke a smile, "But if I did I'd probably tell her it was you."

"Aw man!" Hunter groaned through a laugh, "You'd lie about me like that?"

He nodded, his smile growing. This should be fun. "Fuck yeah. I'd tell her you that you tried to 'corn-hole' me in the back of the car. Then I'd tell her you asked me to 'lick it' but not before you specified that I ram my toe in your-"

"Alright alright!" Hunter cackled hysterically, "Jesus you're one sick dude Orton! Jesus! Sick fuck!"

Randy only shrugged again, "You asked."

"Damn dude no wonder you don't have a girlfriend." And now he was mad again. Fuck Hunter. "Talking like that would scare any good woman away!"

He lost his smile and frowned, jerking his head to look out the window again. FUCK HUNTER. Fuck him. Fuck him. FUCK HIM! God he just wanted to fucking scream! "I don't want one." And he fucking didn't. Women just drove him crazy and not in the good way. He wanted a man! Fuck, he loved men. He loved kissing men, touching men and he especially loved fucking men. And to even hear about himself being with a woman pissed him the fuck off. It was just so fucking WRONG.

"Why not?" Hunter asked. Of course he fucking did, nosy bastard.

"No time." It wasn't a lie, even if he was straight he wouldn't have the proper time for a relationship. Hell with his fucked up schedule he couldn't even keep a house plant a live, much less a relationship!

"Are you even like, dating anyone?"

He scoffed softly, "You mean, am I fucking anyone?"

Hunter shrugged as he nodded, "Well yeah I guess. Dating, fucking, same thing. So are you?"

"I have someone I can see when I need to." Now THAT was a lie. He had no one waiting for him and he hadn't in months. But he'd say anything to get Hunter off his back about this. It was really none of his god damn business anyway!

"Ah one of those 'booty calls'. Good for you."

"Yeah," He agreed and seized the moment to direct the conversation onto him, "What about you? You still dating Stephanie?" Stephanie, Hunter's girlfriend, was the Chiefs of police's fucking daughter! How his partner got into that mess he didn't know but he thanked god every time he spoke of them that he wasn't Hunter. Not that Stephanie wasn't nice, she just wasn't company he personally preferred because she had a tendency to be kind of like...She was always...Well she was...Okay, so she was a total bitch and he hated to even look at her. But she did have nice hair though, that much he could say.

"Yep. Almost a year now." Hunter started to beam, a huge smile spreading over his lips, "Our anniversary is coming up and I'm going to take her out to Mandalay Bay Resort."

"Holy shit dude that place is expensive. That's what, a four star restaurant?" He knew because he'd spent a lot of time looking into places he'd like to go some day. He just didn't have anyone to go to these places with him and often doubted that he ever would.

"It's really fucking expensive! But damn dude that woman gives the best fucking blow jobs." Hunter replied and started to laugh, "She deserves something special ya know?"

He made a disgusted sound, nearly about to puke at the thought of them together, "Dude..."

Hunter laughed harder and wasn't at all ashamed, "What?"

"Could you just hurry up please!" He asked, annoyed and checked his watch. It was after midnight and Hunter was not only grossing him out but he was now officially taking way too fucking long to get him home.

"Yeah yeah yeah, we're almost there. Fuck I swear dude sometimes you're more barn soul than a barn soul horse!"

"Yeah and sometimes I have no fucking clue what you're talking about." He snapped bitterly, "I don't even know what barn sour means-"

"Never mind what it means. Don't worry about figuring out what I'm trying to say! Go get laid dude! You fucking need it!"

Yeah he did. And he didn't argue with him on that one.

Thankfully after what felt likes hours they were finally parked outside his home where he could only stand to give a half-hearted good night to Hunter before rushing into the building of his apartment. He just couldn't bare to be around him for a second longer than he had to! He didn't want to sit and chat all night! He wanted to go the fuck home!

He ran the three flights of stairs up to his apartment and once inside tore off his jacket and hung it neatly on a hook beside the door, as well as his keys and went straight to his room. Checking his cell phone he'd silenced earlier he wasn't surprised to see he had no missed calls or texts. He never did. Except of course, unless it was about work.

There simply wasn't time in his day for a friend, or a lover. And he certainly didn't have the room in his apartment for one either.

It was incredibly small and wasn't the best place he could afford but it was close to work and he had a nice chunk of money in his savings account from the money he saved on the rent every month. Sure the plumping was horrible sometimes and the heater kept going out but it was comfortable most of the time and he really didn't mind the lack of space. Even the drafty old hard wood floors and peeling faded yellow paint that covered every wall didn't bother him. Because although it may not have looked nice, it still served it's purpose.

Which was mostly just being a place for him to shower and shave and occasionally grab a full nights sleep.

Like tonight, or so he hoped as he carefully removed the straps of his holster down his shoulders, hanging it on another hook beside his bed. A little paranoid to keep his guns so close perhaps but he wasn't exactly in the best of neighborhoods. He knew that it didn't matter if he was a cop. Someone breaking into his place in the middle of the night wasn't going to know that, and even if they did he honestly didn't believe that would even stop them. But, his guns certainly would.

And if by some chance they failed well then there wasn't much to take, the front room he'd passed through only opened into a small kitchen was empty except for his coat and his room was nearly just as bad. It only contained a king size sleigh bed, two old cherry wood stained night stands and a small seventeen inch TV sitting up top a matching dresser. Not much, but then again he was never really home...

He plopped down onto his bed, already pulling his shirt off and let it fall to the floor as he turned and relaxed against charcoal colored pillows and didn't bother to get under the matching sheets just yet. There was OTHER business to tend to first...

Carefully he pulled the zipper to his jeans down, sighing as relief immediately flooded to his groin, the rushing cool tingling sensation making him slightly light headed as he fumbled with the button and finally got himself free.

Fuck he needed to get laid! It was what, a year or more since he'd had any action? He groaned at himself. Shit his sex life had always been pretty spread out but he'd never gone a whole year before! And fuck if his body didn't punished him for it every chance it got! Like tonight! It was going to take a lot more than just one time of self service to silence the libidinous voice of need that seemed to whisper into his ear at all the wrong moments. There was no way around it, he wouldn't catch not even a moment of real sleep if he didn't find release! His spiteful body just wouldn't allow it! And this time it was all thanks to the DASHING ONE.

He cursed and huffed angrily as he lifted his hips and shoved his jeans and black briefs down to his thighs, his cock twitching as the cold air hit the hot sensitive flesh of his groin and tried to chill it. He was rigid, his cock jutting away from his body painfully and just aching to be touched so he did, giving his shaft a soothing stroke.

A growl escaped him as he stared down at his painfully aroused dick in his hand. This was all Dashing's fault! If he had just kept his fucking hands to himself! Another growl escaped him, he truly hated that no one was there to help him. He'd have to do it himself, again, as always!

His jaw clenched, an image of Dashing flashing over his minds eye that made him bite his lip and moan. Oh god he was on his knee's, his sex in his hand and looking up at him with those gorgeous blue eyes, ready to suck him, ready to be taken and punished with his cock. He smirked, so he DID have someone to help him...

He dragged a hand down his stomach, gasping softly as he struggled to take it slow and let the fantasy play out in his head. Dashing was running his hands up his stomach now, kissing and biting the lines of his muscles and making him squirm as he touched him everywhere but his cock. His lips were so warm and soft against his skin, his tongue hot and wet as it trailed downward over his stomach. With a moan Randy started to close his eyes, just seconds away from completely losing himself in the fantasy but stopped, cursing himself softly, his body shaking from the loss of his own affections. He blinked rapidly as he stared at the ceiling.

Shit. Was this really a good idea? Was fantasizing about Dashing going to come back and bite him in the ass? What if he had to go back to that club and actually saw him again? Oh god how awkward would it be if he actually had to TALK to him? His body shook harder as he sucked his lip between his teeth, worrying it as he struggled to decide. This was crazy, or so he told himself. How could he just run home and fucking masturbate to the image of a guy he'd just met? Fuck could he be any more of a creep?

After a moment he heaved a heavy sigh, his hand staring to move again on it own and he didn't stop it. He let his hand continue on it's path down his stomach towards his sex and tried to relax. Fuck it. Chances were he'd probably never see him again anyway.

He closed his hand over his cock, biting his lip harder with a moan as he gave himself a firm squeeze and closed his eyes. Already he could see him again, the beautiful stripper still on his knee's, his mesmerizing blue eyes peeking up at him, his perfect plump lips wrapped around his cock and swallowing it whole. He groaned, shuddering as he started stroking his throbbing sex. Fuck he wanted that. Dashing was just so fucking gorgeous!

He dragged his thumb over the tip as he was imagining it was Dashing's tongue and arched into his hand as he did it again. His cock throbbed and he gasped, letting his fingers rub and tease the sensitive dip beneath where the head met shaft and screwed his eyes shut tight as he pictured Dashing scrapping him with his teeth.

A sharp jolt of ecstasy shot up his spine and made him buck, his cock searching the air for the wonderful mouth he was so vividly fantasizing of. He had to take a few deep breaths, his heart pounding, his mouth dry. Dashing was on his stomach now, his beautiful back end high in the air. And Randy had his face buried between the perfect round globes of his ass.

He moaned loud, shaking from the vivid fantasy as he flicked his tongue over his lips, wishing so bad that he was actually there. Fuck he'd rim him for hours if he ever had the chance. Dashing would cum so fucking hard if he ever got his hands on him, that much he was sure of.

He brought his hand up and spit against his fingers, slicking them slightly before giving himself a few hard strokes and hissed as his cock pulsed and stared to throb. In his head Dashing was beneath him and he was wildly punishing him with it. And the fucking tease was screaming for it! Fucking hell he was begging! He was tearing at the charcoal colored sheets for leverage and he slamming back on his cock for more! The bitch loved his punishment, oh god he loved his fucking cock!

"Oh god! Oh Randy! Oh God!"

With a hoarse cry he quickened his stroking to pumping and rough jerking, his movements furious, fast, and frantic.

It didn't take him long to finish. Within a matter of only a minute or two his creamy sex shot out in hot steady streams all over his stomach and hand, his back arching completely off the bed as his climax ripped through him, in his mind the gorgeous stripper drinking it all down.

He fell back to the bed a panting, sticky mess and wasn't surprised that he was finished so soon. With the savage state Dashing had put him in he was actually proud that he'd lasted as long as he had...

After wiping his stomach and hand clean with his shirt from the floor he lit up a smoke and relaxed against the pillows once more, sighing heavily as he fought off the hollow sense of loneliness creeping up around him. Shit. He WAS lonely and quite often found his bed was the last place he wanted to be. It was just so fucking empty and no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't keep someone in it.

His work just didn't leave time for relationships or friends and he always found himself without both, especially since moving to Las Vegas.

He sighed again as he looked around his small empty room, his heart still racing, his body still cooling and relaxing after the hard climax he'd just suffered, and he figured he'd suffered because he hadn't a person to share it with. Fuck he hadn't a person to share anything with...Well, besides Hunter.

And that guy was a stubborn bigot.