A/N: Sorry it took me so long to update ya'll, but I haven't had a moment to breathe all this semester. Hopefully ya'll like this latest installment as short as it is. -Rei
Evan watched his sister get ready for her and Brandon's outing for the evening. He wasn't going for obvious reasons. He probably should've stayed in his elder brother's room, but the youngest horseman was still coming down from the adrenaline high. He had assumed that remaining within Abeebah's placid company would help calm all the way down. Yet as soon as they went to the hotel room Abeebah shut herself in the bathroom. The youngest horseman had no idea what he was going to do for the rest of the night. Their bland sibling hadn't said it of course, but the strain was already quite obvious.
"What do ya think?" Snapping his attention back to Delia, Evan answered immediately, long familiar with the older horseman's method of making sure that she had whoever it was focused on her. Deliberately he looked her up and down then made a neutral sound that Delia could interpret any way she wanted to. "Smart ass," the youngest horseman said nothing as the chaotic rider used cosmetics to try and hide the colorful bruising on her face. Delia hissed in pained frustration, as she had to all but cake on foundation thickly over a particularly stubborn black contusion ringed with blue.
Yet somehow the younger of his two sisters still managed to be stunning in a silver dress, that was cut so dangerously high on her thigh that it might as well been a shirt. The dark brown riding boots she paired them with, looked startling appropriate. What possessed the elder horseman to wear such revealing clothes while she was still sporting a rainbows worth of bruising that even the best cosmetics couldn't conceal, not to mention a host of minor cuts, and abrasions baffled the horsemen's manager.
But then crazy explained a lot of things these days, and Evan couldn't see why this shouldn't be placed in the same category. It didn't really matter as Delia wouldn't care anyway. The third born horseman was a vain creature, with no doubts about her own beauty regardless to any imperfections. Again the youngest of the Johns siblings couldn't help but wonder at what quirk of nature produced the younger of his two sisters. It wasn't as if their parents encouraged Delia's confidence while they were still alive.
The bathroom door opened, and Abeebah came out dressed in her pajamas. The two younger horsemen eyebrows rose. "Why aren't you dressed," Their dark sister gave Delia a droll look. "I'm tired; we just survived an attempt on our lives after all." Evan looked equally as incredulous as his dark eyed sister. "Even more reason to want to celebrate if you asked me." Delia suddenly pointed out slyly. Not missing a beat the eldest Johns gave her trademark Mona Lisa smile, the first one in months, in fact. "What do you think I was doing earlier?"
While the chaotic horseman was momentarily stunned speechless, Evan forged ahead so as not to miss the chance as to finally squeeze some straight answers out of his eldest sibling. "Speaking of which, who da fuck convinced you to get a tattoo?" Abeebah shrugged slowly obviously still pained by the fresh ink. "Same person I went on a date with." Abruptly the third born horseman snapped out of her stupor. Pointing a triumphant finger at the elder young woman Delia smirked slyly.
"So you admit it was a date." Vaguely amused by the brunette's blatant innuendo, the darkest horseman cocked her head. "I never denied it in the first place." Again Delia raised an eyebrow, "if I didn't know better I'd say that you were with a woman." The statement was a blatant challenge, meant to trip the dark horseman up. Too bad for the other Johns, Abeebah was still the queen of comebacks. "Would you care if I was?" This sent the usually wily Johns into a sputtering fit as Abeebah sauntered to her bed and carefully crawled under the covers.
Intentionally the darkest horseman turned on her side, and away from the inquisitive eyes of her youngest siblings. Evan shook his head. It was obvious that Abeebah was in a playful mood, and they had lost their chance at getting the distant woman to admit to anything besides what was obvious. Really they should be grateful that their sister had finally achieved even that level of contentment, but misery loved company and for the youngest horseman, Abeebah was poor companionship. Too tired, frustrated, and hurting, Evan growled, "I'm going to get someth'n to eat."
Abeebah didn't move. The youngest horseman then glanced at his chaotic sister, "have a good time but not too good of a time." Shaking of her momentary stupor Viluppo gave her younger brother a teeth baring smile, while she placed a mock hurt expression in her tone of voice as she spoke, "I'm sure I don't know what you mean by that." Abeebah continued to ignore them, more than aware that to do so was to again draw their' curiosity. He left without another word and Delia doing the same soon after. The darkest horseman waited yet still a little while longer before sneaking out, she had a depressed Deadman to find.
Kane sat in the corner of his hotel room, a small novel lay open on the table. And he had been staring at the same page for twenty minutes, stubbornly trying to ignore the bare bones room that currently was his cage. It took every bit of what little self control that he had not to throw a temper tantrum. He shouldn't be all that surprised that nothing changed with the end of Austin's reign. Men like Bearer and McMahon didn't give up power freely, even if the power they were giving away was infinitesimal in comparison to what they'd gain.
The brunette shook out his wild curls. Try as he might, the big red machine could not think himself less a fool. Time had taught him nothing in terms of heart break. They always left in the end. And in the end he would always be left to rot away. Even those who returned to the fold of his life only did so to make use of him, one way or another. Rebellion welled up in Kane's gut making him very much physically ill. All he wanted to do was to storm out of that hotel room and never come back.
Forget about his brother, forget about every painful back stabbing, gut wrenching headache that had been hammering in the back of his mind, Kane was so fucking tired. He stood, slamming the book shut as he moved to the bathroom. He was barely able to close the door behind himself before kneeling in worship to the porcelain goddess. Gasping breaths escaped his dry heaves burning up his esophagus. All the money and vengeance in the world couldn't make up for what was already lost, and what Glen was sure he would continue to lose.
With every breath the dark haired demon fought against the instinct to reach out to those whom he believed that he couldn't trust. Abeebah's warnings rung like rusted bells in the back of his brain. An unholy screeching noise that was as hideous and derelict as any truth ever was. He could see his brother's reflection in his own now, staring at him accusingly through the contaminated water of the toilet. And unable to take it anymore the big red machine hooded his own gaze, salty tears stung his closed eyelids, 'some champion,' he couldn't help but think disparagingly.
Panting breaths eased into long drawn in lungs full of air. Spent and content, Mark lay under his still seated bond mate, large hands gripping the generous swell of her hips. Abeebah sat, shoulders hunched forward in his lap, thighs flexing with the exertion of keeping herself from tumbling further into the curve of the Deadman's body. Regaining her breath the brandy eyed woman spoke, voice fairly hushed in the wake of their ardent euphoria.
"That was fun." The young Philadelphian couldn't seem to describe what they had been doing to each other as anything else, despite Taker's obvious reaction. Incredulous, the elder Calloway brother stared up into the passion darkened gaze of his dark haired 'friend'. Abruptly he had to remind himself that despite her worldliness, Abeebah was still innocent in the arena of carnal pleasure, except the one time with both he and his brother, and the time that they were interrupted by her siblings, Abeebah hadn't indulged in this particular activity.
How he knew this Taker dare not contemplate, "Why haven't you had sex with anyone else?" he couldn't help but ask, as Abeebah made herself even more comfortable astride his thighs. She stared at him as if he were the dumbest idiot in the world. "Are you forgetting Mark that before you and Glen came trampling in my life, I barely had the ability to feel anything?" She deliberately leaned forward, allowing the thick trail of her hair to brush erotically against Mark's pectoral muscles.
"That doesn't explain why you didn't sleep with anyone after- Mark was cut off when Abeebah abruptly claimed his lips in a thorough dance of tongue and teeth, hoping to distract him quite effectively from his earlier line of questioning. And when she felt callus roughened hands swim through her long hair, Abeebah thought that she had succeeded. Only to groan she was pulled away, "you were saying- Taker trailed off with a wave of his unoccupied hand, clearly indicating when he and their fellow bond mate slept together.
Pouting, the eldest horseman calculatingly cast her gaze below Deadman's chin. The dark haired woman was determined to say nothing on the topic her green eyed friend seemed fixated on. Her previous and current lack of love life notwithstanding the eldest horseman had no interest in such things. She leaned forward, cautiously testing Mark's grip on her curls. She glared when the big man tugged his fistful in warning, "now don't go doing nothin' funny darlin'." Abeebah's eyes suddenly hooded in sensual drowsiness, and her lips stretched into a sinister smirk.
Mark knew he was in trouble, knew that the smartest thing he could at this moment was to get away from her, and now. 'But then again I never accredited myself with having a great amount of intelligence.' His youngest bond mate might not know much, but she was a quick and creative study. Abeebah ground her pert bottom against the red head's reawakening hardness as she arched her back, so that the fall of her bosom was temptingly at eye level. "I wasn't aim'n ta make ya laugh."
"She's a distraction." Matt Hardy looked at him and his brother's new manager dubiously. Though the man had been part of the long successful stable, the elder Hardy boy couldn't help but think Hayes was getting a little too touchy about something that had nothing to do with him. Jeff and Viluppo weren't exactly a conventional couple, not even by WWF standards. Jeff was very much the wild daredevil and his girlfriend, the most viscous woman ever to step into the squared circle. All in all, they were both sick in the head.
And it was for that reason the dark haired Hardy wasn't about to say anything that would necessarily contradict the man. "It isn't like they really get involved in each others' work, so does it really matter?" It was true, besides the one time they had saved Viluppo and her older sister, he and Jeff never really got involved with the beautiful horseman in their place of work. The look of exasperation clouded the blond man's features. "Kid ya'll two want to get anywhere in this business you have to be completely focused."
Matt went on, pretending as if he didn't hear what Hayes just said, because while he agreed with the sentiment, he seriously doubted Jeff would see it that way. "And why are ya com'n to me bout this? Ain't it Jeff who ya aught to be hav'n this discussion with if it's so important?" Again The dark eyed Hardy was given a exasperated look, this time accompanied by an eye roll. "He ain't gonna listen to me." The 'moron' was left unsaid, but Matt heard it in his tone loud and clear. Stiffening, the elder Hardy's features gained an embarrassed if harassed flush.
"What? Ya think I'm gonna try and talk him into breaking up with Viluppo. Are you insane?" Brown eyes darted over the railing he was standing by nervously. Hayes features turned ruddy with agitation, "what part of, he ain't gonna listen to me, don't you understand?" Matt idly wondered what made the older man think that the rainbow haired Hardy would listen to him. Throwing a casual arm around the younger man's shoulders, Hayes continued to make his point as best as he could without letting his temper get the best of him.
"Being with one of the horsemen can only do more harm than good anyway, Vince is already fixated on ruining Morte's career. And since Viluppo is siding with her, the boss won't hesitate to make anyone who is associated with them lives a living hell." Matt watched from his vantage point, one of the upper balcony's of the club as his little brother whipped his girlfriend across the dance floor. "I'm more worried about what Viluppo's brothers and sister would do to us."
And while Matt and Michael Hayes watched the crazy couple, Brandon watched them from the bar on a balcony across from them. The second born horseman nursed a vodka cocktail, trying to block out the almost acid trip like feel of the music, combined with strobe lights bouncing off reflective walls. There was no way to hear what they were saying but that didn't stop him from speculating on whatever conversation they were having.
Whatever they were talking about obviously not something pleasant, if the hunted look on Matt's face was anything to go by, the Hardys' new manager was making him damn unhappy. A hysterical thought sluggishly occurred to the tipsy wrestler. It might have something to do with Hayes getting a little too cozy with the darker Hardy. His tenuous gaze swung away from them and toward the dance floor where Delia was putting on quite the show.
As the lyrics of Black Street's No Diggity flooded the club speaker system, the horsemen's wild child had pushed the young daredevil into a chair, and proceeded to give him a lap dance that a professional would envy. The caramel skinned young woman leaned over her seated boyfriend, her hands gripping the rails of the chair's back support. Her hips moved in a languid gyrating motion, but never quite touched Jeff's lap. Clearly taunting, and always teasing, the chaotic rider wordlessly challenged the male beneath her.
Brandon only felt mildly interested in his younger sister's head games. But as buzzed as he was feeling it didn't matter, as the light-skinned horseman was well on his way to being drunk. And anything that could distract himself from doing something stupid was welcome at this point. "Brandon? Brandon Johns, is that you? Ya crafty son of a bitch, what are ya doing here?!" The horseman's cleanup hitter froze, abruptly cutting a suspicious glare down at his clear concoction. "I'm not that drunk."