Hook thinks long and hard about things after his return on Dynamite. Watches back the footage of his return and blows out a frustrated breath. Yeah, he'd returned, yeah he'd saved Shibata. Yeah, he'd gotten to hold the FTW title again. It's all staggered steps toward what he really wants. He's impatient, he wants it all right now. He knows this, he's been told multiple times by multiple people throughout his life. Sitting around struggling through recovery just to get blurry vision and scars along the sides of his face hadn't been what he was looking for, but it's where he's at right now, it's what he has to work with.
Orange is sprawled out on the bed behind him, breathing steadily but Hook can tell he's not asleep. So nothing stops him from turning the TV off and twisting to look at him, eyepatch still held tightly in his fist. "I have an idea," he says.
The week before had been too subtle. Hadn't done enough to knock Jericho off kilter. Had given him the opportunity to run. It's a risk, but Hook has to take it. Has to pin the man down, make him underestimate Hook, leave him wide open to loss.
Orange squints up at him. "Ok." He sits up and scrubs a hand over his face. "What do you need?"
Well, it takes a few tries, a pathetic amount of bandages and gauze and whatever else. Practice. Where Hook is not patient, Orange is, but they're both focused on this, a way to succeed. To turn Jericho's deluded pride against him. Something that Hook had been reluctant to accept needing at all becomes something he clings to with both hands, even strives to perfect as Orange and he experiment with eyepatches, bandages, whatever else could be more noticeable. Yeah, the black beanie with black eyepatch the week before had been subtle, kept Hook from feeling too ridiculous, but this week he wants to attract Jericho's attention. He wants him to see the bandage, realize that Hook's been seriously injured, and take it at face value.
"Thoughts?" Hook asks Wednesday afternoon, staring at himself in the mirror. He tosses his hoodie aside, not wanting to hide tonight. He has a tank top on, and the beanie, and the bandage, and that's it. It's the most visible outside of when he's been in an actual wrestling match that he's felt in a long time, and it kind of makes his skin itch, but it's necessary.
Orange is behind him, staring intently at his reflection, and Hook quirks an eyebrow at him. Blinking, Orange snaps out of wherever his thoughts had gone, clearing his throat. "Yeah," he says, finally focusing on the bandage spanning Hook's eye. "It'll work."
Good enough.
-x
All in all, Dynamite goes well. Hook never wants to imagine the shit Big Bill was falteringly trying to describe that he would do during their match the following week, but other than that. Yeah. Jericho has given him what he wants- although he hates having to wait for All In to finally get it- and Orange had won spot #1 in the casino gauntlet battle royal.
Hook exhales slowly, clenching and unclenching his fists as he stares at himself in the mirror. He'd had to keep it all on the entire time he was at the arena, brandishing around this bandage, letting everyone see it. Making people buy it, so Jericho would have no clue that his eye's ok. More vocal than he was last week, when he had to hide. Wanted to hide, keep the damned eyepatch to himself, not have to look weak or pathetic to the world. But now... well, it had been the only thing that left Jericho open to the idea of wrestling for the FTW title at all.
Orange comes out of the bathroom, brushing his fingers through his wet hair, and examines Hook. "Come here," he says, sitting at the foot of the bed and motioning towards him. As Hook turns from the mirror and walks up to stand between Orange's legs, Orange gingerly peels the gauze from over Hook's eye, smiling up at him. "There we go," he says quietly. "Better?"
"Uh huh." Hook lets out another deep breath as Orange toys with the hem of his tank top, watching him with a dark look in his own eyes. "Good night for both of us," he offers. There are things- the Conglomeration, the ripple effects of Orange pinning Kyle, whatever else- to consider in the future, but for now they've both accomplished their goals. They've succeeded. It's a win. Hook has to cling to that.
"Yeah it was," Orange says, slipping his hands under the tank top and pulling it off of Hook entirely, gazing up at him. "A really good night." He ghosts his fingers over Hook's abs, along his sternum, and Hook exhales slowly, watching him. "What should we do now?"
Hook huffs, exhaling a groan as he pushes Orange down flat against the mattress and crawls up, straddling him. "Gee, I wonder," he says dryly, feeling Orange chuckle under him as he grazes his knuckles over Orange's bare skin, dipping down to kiss him, pinning him against the mattress. "Giving you any ideas?"
"Yeah," Orange mumbles, resting his hand on the back of Hook's neck, tangling in his hair a bit, guiding him. "A couple."
Hook smirks against his lips, hand trailing down to rest against his thigh. "Good, well, better get to it cause we got an early flight and all."
Orange rolls his eyes, tugging at Hook's hair a little tighter. "Rushing me," he grumbles.
"Maybe we'll have time to go slow after All In," Hook suggests, letting out a surprised bark of laughter when Orange moves suddenly, reversing their positions and pinning him to the bed. "Oh, ok," he says, grazing his hand lazily down Orange's back. "Guess we're going at your speed then."
Orange nods, appeased, and leans in to kiss Hook deep and lingering, amused by the dazed look in his eyes once he eases back. "Damn right."