He had never been a patient man. Nor had he ever been able to keep his temper in check. For those two reasons, Dave Batista was pacing back and forth in his room, brown eyes flickering over to the alarm clock every twenty seconds. It was early—very early, in fact the sun wasn't even completely up yet. He had ordered his accomplice to be there fifteen minutes ago…where the idiot was, Batista did not know. All he knew was that if his partner didn't show up soon, he was going to start throwing furniture.
Batista growled, kicking a pillow across the floor as he continued pacing. This was all Adam's fault. The little slut apparently thought he could kick Dave Batista to the curb whenever he pleased, but Dave didn't play that way. He didn't let little whores control him—especially not little whores who thought they could leave him. Adam Copeland was a pretty thing, but not too smart. Not if he thought he could get rid of the Animal that easily. Stupid boy…he was going to realize his mistake real soon. Batista didn't take kindly to people who insulted him, and Adam dropping him in favor of that little slut Jeff Hardy was certainly an insult.
Jeff Hardy. What a fucking waste of space. Sure, he was easy on the eyes, but the boy was too stupid to even realize that Adam had been fucking around on him…dumb little thing. Batista nearly saw red as he thought about Jeff; after all, the younger Hardy had been the only thing stopping Dave from completely owning Adam. Just the thought of Hardy touching his Adam made Batista want to snap the Rainbow Haired Warrior in half. And he could, too. Hardy was a little thing; downright puny next to Dave. But somehow Adam seemed to have a bit of a soft spot for Jeff…no matter how many times Dave made him cum, Adam refused to leave Jeff. Dimwitted bitch.
Well, Dave thought angrily, wrapping his fingers into the shape of fists, Adam was going to learn that you never crossed Dave Batista. There was a knock on the door, and Batista went to answer, slowly prying the door open.
Chris Masters strode in, a wide smirk across his face.
"Dave." Masters replied, giving the slightly larger man a nod.
"You're late." Batista growled, shoving the door shut.
"It's a bit early, don't you think?" Chris whined, reaching up and rubbing a hand through his brown hair.
"Stop bitching." Dave ordered, giving Masters a hard glare, "Well…are you in or not?"
"That depends." Chris answered snottily, putting his hands on his jean-clad hips, "You got what I asked for?"
Batista reached into his back pocket and withdrew a small, clear bag that was about halfway filled with a white, powdery substance. Masters' eyes immediately glazed over with hunger as he stared at the bag, completely fixated on it.
"The highest grade available, completely pure." Batista said as he tossed the bag to Chris, "You get the rest of it when we're done."
Masters didn't answer, he merely turned the bag over and over in his hands, fingers kneading the soft, plastic-encased powder.
"Well?" Batista snarled.
"Alright," Chris smiled widely, shoving the bag into his pocket, "I'm in. What do you want me to do?"
"You're going to help me deal with a bitch that's gotten out of line." Batista answered, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
"Hm," Chris smirked toothily, "Sounds like fun. Who is it?"
"Adam Copeland." Dave answered.
Chris's eyes immediately widened, "Wait, you mean Jeff Hardy's boyfriend?"
"He's mine." Dave hissed through clenched teeth, "Him and Hardy are almost done anyhow."
"Ok…what do you want to do?" Masters looked at him curiously.
"First, we're going to send him a message. Let him know we're serious." Dave continued, eyes narrowing dangerously.
"And how are we going to do that?" Master asked suspiciously.
"By beating one of his friends black and blue, that's how." Dave couldn't help but smile at that. He was going to greatly enjoy breaking someone that Adam was friends with.
"You want to go after one of the Hardys?" Chris raised an eyebrow.
"No, not yet." Batista shook his head, "First we'll get someone a little less close to him, then work our way up."
"Well who then?" Masters asked.
"You'll have to wait and see." Batista sneered, "Come on, let's go keep a lookout. As soon as he's left alone, we'll get him. Adam's going to regret ever trying to leave me."
Shawn Michaels rolled over a bit, his long hair tangling around his face as he buried his head into the pillow. It was no use…he wasn't getting back to sleep. The light pouring in from the window suggested it was time for him to get up anyway. Sitting up, Shawn stretched his arms out, letting out a deep yawn. His sleepy blue eyes cracking open, he looked to his left and right. Hunter was next to him, the blonde still practically passed out, the white sheets of the bed wrapped up around his waist. The other side of Shawn was empty, however. Letting out a groan of discontent, Shawn swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. He was only wearing a blue pair of boxers as he made his way to the living room, hips swinging like always.
Mark was sitting on the couch, scowling as deeply as ever. His dark hair was cascading across his shoulders, and he seemed to be hunched over, fuming.
Shawn sighed, "What's wrong?"
"You know what's wrong." Mark said curtly, not even looking at Shawn as he answered.
"Mark, you've got to get over this." Shawn rolled his eyes, "So what if you don't like Randy? Jeffy does and there's nothing you can do to change that."
"Jeff is extremely irresponsible, you know that." Mark huffed, turning to look Shawn in the eye.
"Look," Shawn sighed again, "You can't control what Jeff does—"
"Why are you defending Randy?" Mark snarled suddenly, "He's an ass and everyone knows it! How can you possibly be ok with Jeff dating him? We're supposed to be Adam's friends—"
"Jeff can't help it if he doesn't want to be with Adam!" Shawn snapped back, pointing at Mark angrily, "We can't force him to like someone any more then we can force him to not like Randy!"
"You know Randy fucks around with people then dumps them!" Mark retorted madly, "What happens when he does that to Jeff? You want Jeff to go through that?"
"That's not the point!" The Showstopper frowned, "The point is that you can't stop Jeff if he wants to be with someone! That's his choice!"
"Well he's making a bad choice!" Mark spat.
"You don't know that." Shawn replied.
"Shawn don't be stupid—" Mark began.
"Don't call me stupid!" Shawn yelled, absolutely furious at his lover.
"Hey!" It was Hunter—barely awake, by the looks of it. His eyes were red from sleep and he seemed to be staggering a bit as he walked toward them.
"You know," Hunter growled tiredly, "Some of us are trying to sleep!"
"And some of us are being mean!" Shawn grumbled, glaring at the Deadman.
"For god's sake…" Hunter groaned, reaching up and rubbing his eyes, "What's the problem?"
"Mark's mad about Randy." Shawn tattled, shooting a spiteful look at Mark.
"Still?" Hunter sighed, "Mark, I'm telling you, he's not as bad as you think. Sure, he's rough around the edges but—"
There was a knocking on the door suddenly. Mark, Hunter, and Shawn all looked at each other, matching looks of confusion on their faces. They hadn't been expecting anyone, who could it be? Especially at this time? Wrestlers weren't exactly known for being early risers, so who could it possibly be?
Hunter solved the dilemma by walking over to the door and swinging it open quickly. To everyone's surprise, Matt Hardy and Adam Copeland walked in, both wearing jeans and simple t-shirts. Both looked a lot calmer then they had last time they had visited.
"Matt? Adam?" Shawn raised an eyebrow questioningly, "What're you doing here?"
"We came to say we're sorry." Matt replied, looking contrite, "We realized we we're pretty rude to you yesterday—"
Mark cleared his throat, "Jeff's cheating on Adam with Randy Orton."
The silence that followed was deafening. Hunter's mouth dropped and his eyes widened so much they appeared to be popping out of his head, Adam looked like he had suddenly lost the ability to breathe, and Matt was clenching his fists so tightly that his nails drew blood from his palms. Shawn Michaels, however, appeared unchanged.
"I am not sleeping with you for a week, you ass." Shawn said quietly as he glared at Mark, his blue eyes flashing with barely contained rage.
"What the fuck do you mean Randy Orton?" Matt roared; his eyes wide with fury.
"Oh shit…" Adam closed his eyes, "Of all people…"
"Randy Orton? Randy fucking Orton?" Matt paced back and forth for a second, huffing so heavily it seemed like he was going to start breathing fire.
"They needed to know." Mark said stiffly as he looked at Shawn, but the Showstopper refused to meet his eyes.
"You're damn right we needed to know!" Matt yelled.
"You knew?" Adam whined, looking at the trio sadly, "You knew he was sleeping with Orton and you weren't going to tell me?"
"I've wanted to tell you." Mark answered, jerking his thumb toward Shawn, "But he kept telling me not to."
"Hey, don't go pinning this all on me!" Shawn said, "Jeff begged us not to tell—"
"Randy fucking Orton!" Matt kicked the couch with enough strength to knock it a few inches, "I can't fucking believe this!"
"It is way too early for this…" Hunter groaned, running a meaty hand through his light hair.
Adam seemed to be shell-shocked, for he slid down onto the couch Matt had just kicked, staring at the floor with empty eyes.
"Adam…" Matt actually seemed to calm down a bit upon seeing the distress his friend was in, "You ok?"
"Yeah I just…" Adam shook his head, his hazel eyes still wide with shock, "I can't believe…of all people, I would've never guessed Orton…"
"My brother is a fucking idiot." Matt hissed, his hands once again becoming fists.
"You're damn right he is." Mark agreed with a growl, "We all know how Randy is."
"I'm done with this shit." Matt snarled, "I'm finishing this now! Come on Addy." Matt strode over to the couch as gave Adam a hand up.
"Where are you guys going?" Mark asked.
"We're going to teach Orton not to fuck with my little brother." Matt answered angrily, steering himself and Adam to the door.
"Well," Mark said as he scooped a shirt off the floor and slid it on, "I'm coming too. I want to teach that little punk a lesson."
"Hold on, hold on." Hunter too slipped on a shirt, "I'm coming too."
"What about you Shawn?" Mark grumbled, looking over at the Heartbreak Kid, "You coming?"
"No." Shawn scowled, crossing his arms in front of him, "I'm not going to help you guys fuck around with Jeff's life."
"Shawn…" Mark sighed unhappily, "Look, I'm sorry—"
"No!" Shawn stamped his foot, looking eerily like Jeff as he did so, "You had no right telling them that! Adam and Jeff weren't together anymore anyway! They didn't have to know! You know what? I'm not dealing with this. Just go away." He finished by turning around and storming to the room.
Mark sighed. He knew he should follow Shawn and fix things with him, but instead he turned and followed Matt and Jeff out the door. Randy Orton was about to learn not to fuck with one of the Undertaker's friends…
The walk—or march, rather—to Randy's room was done in silence. For the first ten minutes or so, Hunter had tried to convince them to take it easy on Randy. Matt's looks of hatred however caused him to give up and simply follow along the others with hopes of diffusing the situation. Hunter was always up for a good fight, but not when it was between his friends. Yes, even now he still considered Randy a friend, though they barely spoke to each other at all anymore. It didn't matter though; for a time there, him and Randy were thick as thieves. It would take a lot more than a simple lack of communication to cause Hunter to turn on Randy.
Matt looked positively furious as he walked. His fingers clenched into fists, a mean scowl across his face, his dark eyes narrowed angrily…Matt looked like he was ready to take on anybody that crossed him. He even stomped his feet as he walked, taking his rage out on the carpet. And who could blame him? He had just found out his baby brother was fucking one of the most hated men in the locker room! The idea of itty bitty Jeffy screwing with the Viper himself was enough to make Matt's skin crawl. Adam actually seemed to be handling the situation much better: he looked a little downtrodden, his eyes glued to the floor as they entered the elevator, but other than that he didn't seem as affected as Matt. Probably because he already knew Jeff was cheating on him…deep down he knew. Finding out it was Randy was simply putting a name to it.
Mark was feeling a strange mixture of exhilaration and guilt as they stepped out of the elevator and onto Randy's floor. He was itching to get his hands on Randy; the little fuck always managed to get him all riled up, and he wanted to teach that boy a lesson about respecting superiors. However, Shawn's outburst as he had left was churning in his mind. It was bad enough that Shawn was angry with him—he was sure Jeff wasn't going to be happy once he found out Mark had spilled the beans. And Jeff had asked him, no, begged him to not tell…Mark was feeling a tad guilty, even if it was for Jeff's own good.
When they reached 512, it took all of Matt's self control to stop himself from kicking door in a strangling the Legend Killer. Instead he reached up and knocked on their door harshly.
To everyone's surprise, it wasn't Randy who answered. It wasn't even Jeff. It was John Cena…standing in front of them in dark jeans and a white shirt. He had been smiling that characteristic grin of his, but when he saw all the angry faces in front of him, his lips quickly dipped into a frown.
"What…?" John looked at them, a very confused expression on his face.
"Cena? What the hell?" Hunter looked at the Champ questioningly, "What're you doing here?"
Cena opened his mouth to answer, but Matt beat him to it. "Oh for fuck's sake…" Matt snarled, "Don't tell me you're fucking Randy too!"
"Only been a few days and Randy's already got a new toy." Mark shook his head, glaring at John.
"Whoa," Cena shook his head, looking at the group in front of him like they were crazy, "I'm not fucking Randy."
"Then what're you doing here?" Matt spat impatiently.
"Well me and Randy are friends—" He paused before his blue eyes suddenly turned stony, "Wait, why the hell should I tell you? What are you doing here?"
Matt didn't answer, he simply strode forward, his shoulder knocking into Cena and pushing him to the side. Mark followed soon after, and then Adam and Hunter. Forcing their way into the room, they didn't have to go far to find Randy. He was sitting on the edge of his bed, wearing nothing but a pair of denim jeans that were cut rather low; they showed off his hip bones quite nicely. Nobody in the group seemed to notice—well, expect for Hunter, who eyes were roaming up and down Randy's body, taking particular time to examine his abs.
Randy stood up as soon as he saw them, "What the fuck—"
"You fucking punk!" Matt rushed forward, spearing Randy to the ground. They rolled around for thirty seconds or so before Randy somehow landed on top and slugged Matt in his stomach. Cena rushed forward as Hardy yelped in pain, pulling the Viper off of the slightly smaller man.
"Stay away from my brother!" Matt roared as he stood up, clutching his side.
"I'll do whatever I fucking want!" Randy hissed back, struggling against John with no success.
"Asshole!" Matt sneered angrily, trying to rush Randy again. This time however, Hunter stepped between them, his thick arms flexing.
"Back off Matt." Hunter commanded, looking down at Hardy, "Let's at least hear Randy's side of the story."
"Who the fuck cares what he has to say?" Matt scowled, his furious eyes looking past Hunter and straight at Randy, "We all know Randy likes a quick fuck—"
"It wasn't fucking like that!" Orton growled as he gave Matt a nasty look.
"Don't pretend, Randy." Mark replied, looking across the room at the Legend Killer, "We know what you're like. Don't sit here and act like you actually care—"
"What the fuck is your guys' deal?" Randy huffed impatiently, "Jeff's an adult, and he can do what he wants! The only person who has any right to be mad at me is Adam!" Randy turned, facing Adam, and to everyone's surprise, he actually looked a little guilty.
"I'm sorry I fucked your boyfriend." Randy grumbled. But he didn't sound sorry…and everyone could tell.
"You're lying!" Matt hissed, curling his hands into fists, "You're not sorry at all!"
"You're damn right I'm not." Randy spat back, "I'm glad I did it! I got Jeff now—"
"No you don't!" Matt roared, rushing forward again, "He isn't yours and he never will be you fucker!"
"You fucked my boyfriend…" Adam said quietly, causing Matt to stop struggling against Hunter, "How can you possibly defend yourself?"
"Oh cut the bullshit." Randy rolled his eyes scathingly at Adam, "You're telling me not to pretend? Well what about you? Why don't you stop pretending?"
Adam went very pale at that, clamping his mouth shut.
"You're going to sit here and antagonize the man whose boyfriend you fucked?" Mark scowled deeply, his dark eyes harsh, "You really are a piece of work Randy."
"Shows how much you idiots know." Randy snorted.
"What the hell does that mean?" Matt replied, getting tired of Randy's games.
"You know, maybe I wouldn't have slept with Jeff," Randy turned suddenly, giving an accusing, blue eyed stare at Adam, "If he hadn't come crying to my door and telling me his boyfriend was sleeping with Dave Batista!"
I have put a poll up on my profile that deals with a fic I plan on working on soon. If you could take the time to take the poll, I'd really appreciate it!