Orange Cassidy breathes in deeply, staring at his gear. He'll be getting ready for his match against Preston Vance soon, but he still has a little bit of time and he's taking advantage of it. Has just sat up a bit, scrubbing his hands through his hair restlessly, when there's a knock at his door. He sighs, wondering who it is. Probably not someone coming to kick his ass- why would they knock, they'd just break in and immediately set in on him, but he's not expecting anyone either way. Sighing, he calls out, "Come in," not feeling like getting up.

After a moment, the door opens and Hook hovers in the doorway, Orange blinking at him in surprise. "Hey," he says.

"Hey," Orange echoes back. "Didn't think you were going to come."

Hook brushes at his nose, then shrugs. "Changed my mind. Just got done going to Tony's office. He's granted me a match tonight." He glances around the room, then turns his gaze back onto Orange. "Alright?"

"Yeah, make yourself at home," Orange says, shrugging. He watches as Hook steps in and lets the door close behind him, propping his luggage against the wall before settling down on the bench next to Orange, shrugging off his coat. "So a match tonight, huh? What's the gameplan?"

Hook tucks his coat in the corner and leans back, stretching his legs out. "Wanted a chance to test out new ways to lock in Redrum, mostly," he says, fingers tapping absentmindedly against his legs. It takes Orange a moment to realize this is one of the few times he's seen the guy idle without a bag of chips or something to keep his hands occupied. "Especially on guys bigger than me."

Smart, especially with the match against Joe only days away. Orange nods. "Good strategy."

"Thought so." Hook takes another minute to decompress after travel and everything else, before standing and moving to his luggage. He tugs out his gear and wrist tape and moves to set things up, get changed.

Orange watches out of the corner of his eye as the hoodie and sweats disappear, replaced by a black and white version of his usual gear, Hook then moving to put his boots on, lacing them carefully so they won't come undone while he's in the ring. Once he's done, he reaches for the wrist tape, his frown growing as he finds the roll gone from where he'd put it. He looks up, about to ask Orange, when his eyes rest on it in Orange's hand. "Here," Orange says, shifting to face him. "Allow me."

Hook blinks. "Alright," he says quietly, turning to face him. It's intimate, Hook's hand resting against Orange's leg as Orange carefully rolls the tape around his wrists, up over his thumb to offer a little more stability, as much safety as possible. Switching sides, he repeats this for the other side, smoothing his fingers over the tape once he's finished.

"There ya go," he says.

"Thanks," Hook responds, tucking his hands into fists and then stretching his fingers out to test the flexibility of Orange's work. He nods at Orange's curious glance, lips twitching up into a small smile. "I gotta go, my match is next."

"Alright," Orange says. "I'll be watching."

Hook nods, snagging his FTW title off of where he'd left it hanging from his luggage, and leaves for the ring.

The match doesn't take long, but Orange notices immediately that Hook's on a different level than usual tonight- yes, he does a lot of his usual match rituals, but they're all with little quirks that take his opponent out even further. Standing in the corner, pointedly ignoring Kevin Matthews, is just a path to get the man to lunge forward and knock himself loopy on the FTW title hanging off of the turnbuckle pad, Hook takes the match out of the ring, which Orange can only remember him doing a few times, and hoists him up, suplexing him onto the ramp. Even his lead in to the Redrum is different. Instead of using gravity and his own body weight against Matthews, Hook sweeps his legs out from under him, then locks him in it while he's on his knees, powering the man over until Hook's on his back, and wrenching back on the momentum, forcing him to tap out.

Orange hums, not surprised but glad to see that Hook's impulsive decision didn't backfire. He's just beginning to get into his gear himself when Hook returns, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "Hey."

"Hey," he says, sitting down to unlace his boots. He glances up after a moment and exhales. "Look alright?"

"Of course," Orange says. "Interesting way into the Redrum."

"Gotta keep Joe on his toes," Hook says.

"Or off of them, as the case may be," Orange says, his expression remaining passive as Hook stares back at him, finally cracking into a smile, huffing as he gets his boots off and moves on to his wrist tape. Small victories. Hook's been grim and hyperfocused on Joe for the last week, so to actually get anything resembling a smile from him, much less twice in one night, is a good sign.

"Preston Vance, huh?" Hook asks after a minute.

"Yep," Orange says, adjusting his own shoes.

"I saw Roddy and The Kingdom earlier on my way in," Hook says, watching him.

"Yeah," Orange says.

"I'll hang around. if you need anything..."

Orange shrugs. "I don't think it'll be necessary," he says. "Besides, you've already had your match for the night, I don't want you to risk anything further before you challenge Joe."

"I'm not going to sit back and watch you get hurt either though," he says, brows furrowing.

"I appreciate that," Orange says. "I do, really. But I get the feeling that's not what Roddy's after, at least not tonight."

"Hm," Hook says, clearly unconvinced. "I'll still be watching."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Orange says, realizing that he's the one smiling now. He turns back to his shoes, making sure they're secure but comfortable enough to move around in. He's just turned back for his elbowpad when he notices Hook has it, rubbing his thumbs over the dark fabric absentmindedly.

"You don't wear wrist tape," he says. "I want to do something. Since you helped me earlier."

Orange blinks at him, then nods. "Alright," he says, sitting down on the bench facing Hook. He watches quietly as Hook slowly guides Orange's hand through it, easing it up his wrist, over his arm until it's snug around his elbow.

"Good?"

Orange shifts his arm around, bends his elbow. It's all working, and seems steady enough within the fabric. "Yeah. Thanks."

"You're welcome," Hook says, checking the clock. Time has moved quickly since his match, and now Battle of the Belts is about to start.

Orange shrugs, settling back down next to Hook. "I'm main eventing, so I've got a little time," he says. They sit in silence and watch the street fight, even Hook flinching at a couple of the shots Ricky takes during the match. During the middle of Anna Jay vs Julia Hart, Orange gets up and collects the International title. When Hook moves to stand, Orange shakes his head, patting Hook's shoulder. "Stay back here, I'll be alright."

Hook frowns, but listens, eyes locked on Orange's face. "Like I said," he says, "I'll be watching."

"I know," Orange says, offering him a small smile once more before putting his sunglasses on and heading out.

His match is far from easy in comparison to Hook's. It takes time for him to get warmed up, to actually find the will to fight back to the degree he needs to. It doesn't help that Hook was proven correct when Roddy and The Kingdom come down before the bell could even ring and sit out at ringside, watching and talking amongst themselves as he slowly fights back from getting his ass kicked by Preston.

The entire match is like trying to crawl up a steep mountain, and at one point Orange had thought for sure he wasn't going to be able to fight through this, trapped in a submission, Preston's size working against him no matter how he struggled to get free, but then- then a flash of Hook's face, focused and determined as he studies tapes of Joe's matches, crosses his mind and he thinks about what message that might send him, should Orange lose right here, right now- that no matter how good your win record may be, there's no defeating someone bigger than you, stronger than you, and- No. Orange scrambles, fights back, kicks and stomps desperately at Preston's feet until he's able to get some momentum up and slam him back into the turnbuckles, freeing himself completely from there, manages to rock him with a superman punch.

It's a struggle, he strains under Preston's weight, but finally gets him over, hits Beach Break and from there it's only a matter of time until he registers the three count and his title retention, slumping into the corner as The Kingdom and Roddy surround him. They just stand there, smug and mockingly clapping for his win as he tries to catch his breath, watching them. They're not moving to attack him, and Orange is pretty sure as soon as they even take one more step towards him, Hook will be on the move, but it still would leave them outnumbered, and he doesn't want to risk it.

Thankfully, Roddy just makes his intentions known- which he's done plenty the last couple of weeks, but never face to face like this, and Orange takes it in with a frown, relieved when they finally back up and take their leave. He gives it a minute, exhaling slowly, and rolls out of the ring, carefully heading up the ramp to the back. No one follows him, no one does anything, he's back in his locker room safely before he even knows it, Hook immediately getting up and shutting the door securely behind him.

"You alright?" he asks, searching Orange's face. "I knew I should've gone out there with you."

"I'm fine," Orange says, wincing a little. "Sore, but I'll be alright." He shrugs. "I knew they probably wouldn't do anything."

"Probably," Hook echoes with a huff, resting a hand on Orange's back and guiding him over to the bench. Once he's seated, Hook kneels in front of him and begins undoing his laces, tugging his shoes off.

"I can-" he's starting to protest but Hook looks up at him with an unimpressed expression, causing him to sigh and sit back, biting his tongue. "Fine."

They sit quietly for awhile as Hook slides his street shoes onto his feet, then looks up at him curiously. "Saw this... change in your face when Vance had you in that submission," he says after a few moments. "Like, suddenly you realized you needed to fight. What brought that on?"

Orange winces a little, then shrugs. "I, uh. I thought about you," he admits. "Facing Joe Wednesday, and... well, just knew I needed to fight harder too, because if you could square up against someone like him, then I couldn't fail against Preston. Not like that. Not tonight."

Hook takes this in for a minute, finally finishing with Orange's shoes and moving to sit down next to him. He presses against Orange's arm and smiles a little, brushing at his nose. "I guess I'm glad I could motivate you," he says. They sit for a bit in silence until Hook lightly nudges him. "Come on, let's go back to the hotel and get some sleep."

Orange makes a face, rolls his shoulders. "In a minute," he says, knowing that to do so means he'd have to stand up, finish changing clothes, collect his things, and then walk all the way back through the arena to the parking lot.

"Alright," Hook says quietly and when Orange tilts over enough to rest his head on Hook's shoulder, Hook simply huffs and reaches up, brushing his fingers lazily through Orange's hair. "You have one minute."

"Uh huh," Orange says, well aware that Hook will let him stay like this until arena security finds them and kicks them out. "One minute."