"ITVR: Chapter 69"
Promises.

By Jadedoll, Penumbren, & Raising Kane

Milky Way bar

Who would've thought that Big Bad Triple H would be cuddly in bed? Shawn certainly hadn't, although he'd tried his damnedest not to let himself wonder, too. Of course, given what he'd managed to piece together over the last twenty-four hours of Hunt's personal life for the last few years, he shouldn't be surprised. His lover was probably starved for physical attention of any kind; fortunately for him, Shawn was more than willing to give him as much attention as he could stand---and more, actually. And so was Dave---and that thought sent a pleasant warmth spreading through Shawn's body even as Dave climbed into bed behind him.

Now, they just had to work on that bossiness.

"Bed David... now."

Stifling his laugh against Hunter's shoulder, Shawn shifted as needed to accommodate their lover, reveling in the pleasant struggle for the three of them to�get comfortable, hazily familiar from his days with Kevin and Scott. Oh. He should probably call them tomorrow... later today, he amended after flicking his eyes toward the bedside clock. They'd worry otherwise, no matter how much they should know better.

"'night Loves."

Smiling into the darkness, Shawn leaned his head against Hunter's shoulder and murmured, "Good night, love. 'night sweetheart," reaching back to pull Dave's arm up around his chest, tangling their fingers together. He was exhausted... but after the last day, who wouldn't be? And what a wonderful reason to be exhausted... for the first time in far too long, he was on the verge of passing into sleep between one breath and the next because he'd made love to both of his incredible lovers so many times that he couldn't stay awake any longer rather than because he'd worked himself into exhaustion to avoid thinking about his empty life.

"I'm having coffee in the morning Dave�and you can't stop me."

The quiet mumble brought another soft laugh, and then all Shawn was really aware of was the warmth from the bodies surrounding him, the two not-quite-in-synch heartbeats lulling him to sleep.

****

Mark�s hand on his cock just served to bring Jeff even closer to the edge that he�d been climbing. The insistent piercing heat of Mark�s shaft deep within him, rubbing over and over on that small cluster of nerves, sending ice-white waves of pleasure through Jeff like electric shocks. Wild moans and desperate gasps for breath were the only sounds to escape Jeff�s swollen lips, the noises seemingly lost to Jeff in the gorgeous running growl issuing from the man beneath him. A deep, primitive sound that pulled at Jeff�s cock with almost the same result as the warm hand engulfing it. Mark wasn�t just bringing him off with his sure, intent movements, he was stroking Jeff exactly the way he liked it, slightly tighter than could be called pleasant but with lovely little tugs when he reached the head.

The combination of sensations from his ass and his cock were enough to steal Jeff�s breath as he rose and fell, leg muscles bunching at the repetitious strain, grinding down as Mark thrust up, both voices hitching at the feeling.

Tipping his head forward from its wild tossing, Jeff forced his eyelids up by sheer effort of will and became fixated on the man he was fucking. A fine sheen of moisture dewed across the rippling expanse of Mark�s chest, satin skin shifting and tightening as his lover lifted his hips to send another blast of white heat across Jeff�s nerves. But it was the green eyes, almost incandescent with wicked fire that truly pulled Jeff over into ecstasy, the hard length deep within him and the reaction of his pulsing sex merely the physical connection to his inner climax. Looking down at Mark, beautiful, dark, intoxicating Mark, was all Jeff needed to do.

He had honestly never seen anything more spell-binding.

Lost in the blistering almost-pain of his orgasm, Jeff�s eyes traitorously closed, blinding him to the magnificent sight of Mark coming. But in his hazy �oh... yes, oh�yes� of bliss, Jeff could just feel the deep ache of Mark�s climax inside his body and reveled in it. Obscurely flattered and childishly proud that he�d brought Mark over the edge with him, flying as one into a blissful darkness.

----

Blinking, Jeff came back to awareness wrapped in Mark�s arms, the taste of hot skin on his lips as he pressed a lazy kiss into the wide shoulder beneath his cheek. If you�d asked Jeff Hardy a week ago, hell an hour ago, if he�d get such great sex tonight that he�d black-out, he�d have smothered a laugh and called you an idiot. If you�d said it would be from great sex with Mark Calaway� well� if he hadn�t punched you then some very nasty words would have been forth-coming. Just goes to show why Jeff didn�t like to do too much planning in his future. It never, ever, worked out the way he expected.

Drifting on that luxurious line between wakefulness and sleep, Jeff moved as Mark did, their bodies sliding easily under the cotton sheets, words unnecessary in the post-sex afterglow. A faint smile touched Jeff�s lips as an errant pillowcase was used for some token cleaning and then he was dozing, still engulfed by strong, beautiful arms, warm breath tickling his temple as they settled in.

An errant thought sabotaged Jeff just on the verge of slumber and he wrestled the warm beast of sleep momentarily to murmur,

�Have breakfast with me?�

Not hearing Mark�s answer, Jeff went into the sweet blackness for the second time that night.

****

He couldn't sleep.

Staring into the darkness, Mark traced invisible patterns on the ceiling with his eyes as he listened to the man in his arms breathe, the slow even breaths of someone deeply asleep. His fingers traced soft patterns across the pale skin of Jeff's back underneath the blanket, not able to keep from touching him even in rest. Every so often he'd tilt his head and watch Jeff's face, lashes lying thickly against the cheek that was pressed into his shoulder even now, some unknown length of time after he'd maneuvered them under the blankets.

What was Jeff dreaming about? A small smile turned the lips upward, but there was no other sign of what he might be thinking of.

For Mark it wasn't so easy. It probably should be: They'd danced around each other all night, finally had it out, declared their interest in each other, and had sex. What was the difficulty there?

Sighing, Mark pressed his head back into the pillow, his eyes closing. That was the difficulty. He wasn't interested in a one-night stand, and he normally didn't just jump into bed with people. But Jeff was different. He hadn't been able to keep his mind---or his hands, or his body---off the younger man, and that was more than a little out of character for him. Jeff had said that he didn't want just one night... but that didn't mean that he wanted a lifetime, either.

And to be honest with himself---for once, a small voice snickered in the back of his mind---Mark did want a lifetime. With Jeff? He wasn't entirely sure. No, that wasn't right. He was sure... and that scared the hell out of him. Jeff had haunted his thoughts for two years now, he reluctantly admitted to himself. Maybe it was time to take a look at that.

The first image that came to mind was one of those impossibly deep green eyes looking up at him, filled with respect and not a little arrogance, and absolutely no intimidation whatsoever. That had been refreshing; most of his co-workers were intimidated by him at first, whether they'd admit it or not. Jeff never had been... but he'd done his best to avoid Mark, for some reason. After this evening, Mark could piece together some possible reasons, but they involved any number of assumptions that he just didn't want to make. There was no way that someone as vibrant and beautiful and young as Jeff was could feel that seriously about him. There wasn't.

Unfortunately for Mark, he did feel that seriously about Jeff.

Somewhere in the vicinity of his heart, a joyful sort of pain passed through his chest at that admission. Mark cared that much about Jeff... he wanted that togetherness that Jeff seemed to be offering. Even with the newfound self-honesty, though, he avoided that word. The last time he'd used that word, it had been to Shawn... and although he didn't begrudge Shawn his happiness or the love that had existed before Mark entered his heart, the experience had been shatteringly painful. When they were together, he'd seen that lifetime ahead of them, had been able to imagine the forever that they would have... only to have to rip that vision out of his heart and leave it behind as he walked away from Shawn.

Could he possibly take that sort of risk again?

Lying there in the darkness, Mark could feel every single one of his years weighing him down, and for the first time in years, he cursed them. For the last few years, he'd been accepting of the fact that he was getting older and slower and greyer... but now... now he wanted to rage and scream and fight against it, for all the good it would do him. Having his whirlwind within his grasp just pointed up the differences between them and made them all the more painful.

Another sigh, and Mark shifted, pressing his face down into the rainbow-hued locks and wrapping his arm around Jeff, still not quite able to keep his fingers still against the smooth skin as he breathed in that same mix of scents that had caught him earlier, the scent of shampoo and musk and something indefinably Jeff. Bodies intertwined, he tried to lock away the doubts that were filling him. Up through his slowing thoughts drifted to the question that his lover had murmured earlier.

"Have breakfast with me?"

With his lips pressed to Jeff's hair, he finally answered, sleepiness making his words thick, his heart in his voice as he whispered, "Every morning."

****

9am

Chris awoke to a gentle breeze causing the curtain in their room to bump against the window with a quiet �fwapping� noise. He didn�t open his eyes at once, preferring to laze in the blissful comfort of morning. The sheets were cool and smooth against Chris� skin, his body spread across the mattress and his bed mate in a boneless sprawl that had Chris doubting whether he could move even if he wanted to. His limbs were heavy like lead but not aching or sore as he�d expected after last nights tension. It was amazing what just a few hours uninterrupted sleep could do for a man.

Turning his face across his pillow, CJ smiled as he felt the cool draft from the A/C drift over his naked shoulders and blessed hotels with good facilities during summer. No matter that he liked hot weather and was extremely happy to live in Florida on his time off, he had been raised in Canada after all. Searing heart was no friend of Chris Jericho, even with the tan.

Flexing his fingers where they rested under his pillow, Chris� smile turned to a grimace at the ache the movement caused. It had been pretty fucking stupid to try and catch Adam like that, but he had the feeling he�d try it again if the situation ever arose. Hopefully not. If Chris had his way, Terry would never even look at Adam again, let alone get within touching distance, but he certainly wouldn�t mind having another �chat� with the Man-Beast. Just to see who could fuck who up if they really got down to it. But CJ was trusting that Vince would do the right thing by them and keep �the Rhyno� out of their faces for the foreseeable future. He wouldn�t be able to break the guy�s other hand just yet, but Chris could wait� he had a good memory.

Opening one blue eye, Chris scanned the table next to the bed and reached for his cell-phone with his good hand. Once again he�d managed to wake up three minutes before the alarm was set to go off and clicked it off before its irritating buzz could awaken his sleeping lover. Grinning, CJ rolled onto his side and slipped a leg out of the tangled sheet to catch the cool air. Resting his chin in his hand, he examined the figure of the man next to him.

Adam lay on his back, one arm flung across the pillows towards Chris and had at one time probably been enmeshed in his hair, the other lay across the smooth, muscled stomach, fingers curled just slightly. Chris was pleased to note that Adam didn�t snore while on his back and placed another tick in his mental "Adam Is My Love God" column. Some of the wild hair had come to rest across his brow and CJ�s fingers itched to stoke it back onto the cool cotton of the pillow. Unfortunately, in the light from the window, Chris could see the tangles where blood from Adam�s head wound had flooded into the honey strands. Just the sight before him was enough to send most of the blood in his body into his groin.

Even beaten and needing a brush, Adam was still the most beautiful thing Chris had even seen.

Here. Naked in his bed.

Long, sexy body just asking Chris to climb all over it and rub against him like an affectionate cat.

"Now that sounds like a good idea," Chris murmured to himself.

Shifting closer, so their body contact from last night was renewed, Chris repositioned his elbow next to Adam�s ear and leaned down to nuzzle against one warm, beard roughened cheek. Sneaking one hand underneath the sheet, he bypassed the temptation of Adam�s quiescent sex and stroked small patterns on the opposite hip bone. Bending his knee, Chris draped his leg over Adam�s extended one and cuddled his morning erection into the warm flesh of his lover�s thigh.

He continued to nuzzle and stroke and cuddle until he felt Adam wake up.

"Good morning Babe. Glad to see you�re not in a coma."

****

Adam was finding that in addition to being the highlight of his night, waking up with Chris wrapped around him was definitely the highlight of his day. He was still a little muzzy due to the medication, but his body wasn't shrieking it's aches and pains at him for the moment so he was sublimely happy. In fact, he felt pretty damn good... which was another indication that he was still under the influence of the drugs. The gentle nuzzling that Chris was doing against his cheek almost tickled, but the stroking over his hip was having a decidedly more arousing affect. Or maybe that was due to the press of hot flesh against his thigh. Either way, Adam was more than happy with this particular brand of wake up call.

"Good morning Babe. Glad to see you�re not in a coma."

He was glad as well, mostly because he would have missed being woken up in such a delightful manner. Rather than a verbal answer, Adam decided on a more direct route of convincing his lover that he was fine... more than, actually. With a hum of happiness, he lowered his hand from the pillows and tangled it in Chris' hair once again, where it belonged. Half-rolling towards the blond, he dipped his head and caught his lips in a slow, searching kiss. The hand that had been draped across his stomach found a new home at Chris' waist. With a quiet growl, he tossed his leg over Chris' thigh, trapping it between both of his own.

After a long moment or two, he pulled back, smiling down at his lover. "Nice bedside manner, sweetheart. I wouldn't have been nearly so grouchy if you'd used that method to wake me up every hour."

Spending a lazy moment carding his fingers gently through Chris' hair, he recalled a promise he had yet to fulfill... two of them actually, but one would have to wait until he figured out how to carry it out. For now though... he shifted his leg slightly, hiding his smile against the top of Chris' head when the brush of his leg against Chris' hot, hard length elicited one of those cute little noises he loved so much.

"Speaking of bedside manners, I forgot mine at some point last night and I remember promising to make that up to you." Slipping his hand between them, he ran his fingers lightly along Chris' shaft. "Since I'm making up for my bad behavior, I think it's only fair that you get to pick the method, so..."Adam wrapped his hand around the hardened flesh under his fingertips, content to keep his hand still for the moment. "Choice number one would be a repeat of last night. Though if you pick that one, it's kind of a positive reinforcement for my bad behavior, since I love having you inside me," he said with a grin.

Leaning in, he kissed Chris softly while moving his hand in a slow glide from the bottom to the top of Chris' length and back again. Then he stopped. "Choice number two would involve you climbing on my lap and making use of my poor body in whatever way you see fit, but that means you'd have to do all the work."

With another long slow stroke, he stopped and ran a finger over the head of Chris' cock, collecting the tiny drop of moisture there. Adam pulled his hand from Chris then and lifted it to his mouth, grinning rather wickedly before sucking the moisture from his fingertip, making sure to swirl his tongue around his finger so Chris could see it. "Your third choice would require just a bit of patience from you, love. First you'd have to do a bit of watching and you'd have to promise to keep your hands to yourself. If you are very, very good and manage to keep your hands off yourself as well, then I'll demonstrate my rather extensive oral talents."

"So... pick your poison, sweetheart."

****

It was time. Picking up the phone, he dialed the room number of the man that was going to help him make everything right. It would happen. He would be methodical and convincing until the other man couldn't help but agree with him. Too many people had taken advantage of the younger man, mostly due to his own attitude, but it was just that that would allow Terry to worm his way into the other's world. He would stoke the fires of revenge that were not yet awaked in young Orton. And in the process he'd get his own revenge. Then he could keep Randy for himself. The perfect plan.

The ringing of the phone was music to his ears... now he just needed to wait.

"Orton. This better be good, 'cos I'm not in the..."

Ah... success.

Best to start off sympathetic. Randy would have to be curious over his call. It wasn't like they were friends or even well acquainted. Terry wasn't worried about winning the respect of the younger wrestlers... it was the stars' respect that he yearned for. The younger guys were simply stepping stones in his opinion.

"Randy, Randy, Randy... had a rough night of it last night didn�t ya?"

"Yeah... kinda."

Good... good. Easy now, he told himself. He needed to toss out the bait. If he could sound confident, yet sympathetic at the same time then he'd be able to reel Randy in like a trout on a line. So simple really. And then he'd get what he wanted...

"First Hunter ditches you so he can get all hot and heavy with his bitches. I heard Michaels trying to pawn you off with that pathetic lie. I'm sure a smart guy like you didn't buy it though, not with the way Dave was looking at you like you were dirt beneath his boots. Then you had to deal with that psychotic whore Austin. The day that man settles down with one person, I'll kiss Vince's ass. Speaking of Vince... rumor has it that he's going to be jobbing you out of that IC title within a month after Bad Blood and you'll never guess to who..."

He gnashed his teeth as Randy interrupted. 'That was a mistake, Randall... but you'll learn. Yes, you will.' Terry didn't honestly give two shits for what Randy thought of Michaels or Batista, though he thought the man was ignorant for ignoring both men. If they weren't handled correctly, they would be threats to the other man's future. Not that Terry cared... by the time it became an issue, Randy's usefulness would be over and Randy would have to fend for himself. An evil grin slid across his face as he stretched out on the bed. Despite the trouble he was stirring, he was completely at ease. He could hear the worry and anger in the younger man's voice. It was like taking candy from a baby.

"Vince is going to job you out to Copeland... it was his idea. My sources say that he's talking a shot at the championship for ya Randy, but those same sources say it's going to come with a price. They're going to make you look like a fool. Less than a month after you get your hands on it, you're going to job it to Hunter again and then you get the boot from that cozy little faction you're a part of. So much for the legacy of Randy Orton."

"What sources Terry? Who says I'm getting the Title then getting fucked over and dumped from Evo? Who Terry? Was it Hunter?"

So easy. He could feel the anger radiating through the lines themselves. He'd play on it. No reason to keep his source secret... not since the bastard had treated him like garbage and after all he'd done for the man too. He wouldn't be able to take his revenge there right away. He'd have to get Randy under his thumb first, then he could force him into doing whatever he wanted him to. Randy would have no choice.

The power he could feel within his grasp was an incredibly strong aphrodisiac. Too bad he couldn't talk Randy into coming down to his room now... but, no. It would be better to wait until Randy couldn't refuse him. It was too early. Still, he couldn't help but run a hand over the denim covering his half-hard member. Stifling a growl at the tingle surging through his body, he forced himself to continue on... laying the groundwork for his plan.

"It was Heyman, man. You know how he likes running his mouth. Yeah. He had a lot to say about the plans that Vince and Hunter came up with for ya... none of them good, Randy boy."

Despite Randy's denial, Terry could tell that he was wavering. Proof... what would convince Randy of Hunter's less-than-stellar intentions? Hinting that Hunter would ignore him just to get a piece of ass? Oh yeah. Playing on the fact that Hunter rarely let go of the title even if it was because McMahon didn't trust anyone else to carry the company? Yeah that'd work too. Jealousy amongst the members of his faction... no question there.

"Hunter blocked you from the locker room so he could get a piece of ass and just who do you think came up with the idea for him to take the championship from you rather than Benoit. While you're in the process of losing your IC title to Edge of all people and sitting on the sidelines until you get a random shot at the championship, he's going to push for Dave to be working the main-events. He's not going to let one of his whores linger in mid-card status. Then he's going to give you that one moment in the sun just to snatch it back and grind you under his boot-heel. Look what happened this week, Randy, my boy... he couldn't even push to get you a clean win over Michaels before you have to defend your title. Maybe if you offer to suck him off he'll let you keep the championship for an extra month or two."

The resounding silence that met his suggestion was encouraging. Randy was thinking... at least he was thinking in the direction that Terry wanted him to think. All of the things he'd suggested were logical without him having to verify the truth of them. If it came out later that things didn't work quite the way that Terry'd hinted, it would be too late. Next, he'd hit on Randy's other sore point... his one-night stand. Then... then he could suggest what he was really after... revenge.

Oh this was going to be such fun.

****

Randy swiped away the moisture that had clouded the mirror and looked at his tired face through the streaks. Maven had left ten minutes earlier, after apologetically waking�him with the news that�Randy had to be ready�in an hour to take�them to the airport. With his room-mate... god... friend... doing a quick run at the hotel gym before grabbing them breakfast, Randy had dragged his pathetic ass into the bathroom to sit under hot water until his brain came online.

He ruthlessly avoided thoughts of anyone he had spoken with the previous evening. Not Hunter, not Shawn and certainly not...

No.

Not going there.

The water pounded onto his upturned face until the sleepy residue last night was cleaned from Randy's eyes.

Jesus. He hadn't cried like that since his uncle had died fifteen years ago and had forgotten the horrible aftermath of such an emotional explosion. Randy felt lucky that the only witness to his minor breakdown was Maven, as piling humiliation on top of a self-broken heart would have just taken the fucking cake. But he felt curiously calm this morning, as if all his anger and confusion had been bled right out of him the previous night. Right now Randy wanted nothing more than something to eat, a quick flight home and hopefully nothing shitty happening for a few days.

Pulling on his pants, Randy sighed for the first time over the WWE dress code. Normally reveling in the designer suits he was required to wear, this morning he really, really wanted to put on his jeans and favorite 'Live' t-shirt for the trip. Reaching for his shirt his musings were interrupted by the sound of the phone breaking into the silence.

Feeling a flare of irritation spark, he snatched at the receiver.

"Orton. This better be good, 'cos I'm not in the... ."

"Randy, Randy, Randy... had a rough night of it last night didn�t ya?"

Terry? They weren't supposed to catch up today as far as Randy knew and what was up with the other man knowing about last night? Mav wouldn't have said anything of that Randy was sure. Thinking that Terry must be fishing for gossip, he decided to play it cool.

"Yeah... kinda."

The other man's voice had a bizarre almost pleasant note to it as he recounted the details of Randy's night from hell.

"First Hunter ditches you... you had to deal with that psychotic whore Austin..."

Randy felt his lips tighten and his grip on the phone become almost painful as all those wounds from last night began to crack open.

"...he's going to be jobbing you out of that IC title within a month..."

The wounds were starting to bleed and Randy had to shut Terry up... now.

"Terry? Terry! Taking a fucking breath man. I know what�shit went down last night, I was there okay? Whether Michaels lied or not I really don't give a shit and Batista can kiss my ass. The day Randy freakin' Orton cares about what that meat-head thinks is the day hell fuckin' freezes over."

Because once upon a time he'd thought he�was Batista's�friend... fortunately he got over that assumption pretty damn quickly.

"But what was that about McMahon... what've you heard about my title?"

They wouldn't do that to him. They wouldn't.

"....Copeland... he's talking a shot at the championship for ya Randy...going to make you look like a fool."

NO! Hunter had promised him that if he got a run at the Championship it would be a genuine run and not just a 'fuck you' to Brock.

"...So much for the legacy of Randy Orton."

The words resounded in Randy's ears like a bell tolling the quiet end to his career. Feeling a distinctive anger well up inside him, Randy was in no doubt as to the target of his ire.

"What sources Terry? Who says I'm getting the Title then getting fucked over and dumped from Evo? Who Terry? Was it Hunter?"

Because if Terry said yes, then Randy wasn't going to the airport.

"It was Heyman, man... plans that Vince and Hunter came up with for ya."

Deep breath. He hadn't said Hunter.

"Nah, Hunter may be wrapped up in Michaels and the meat-head but he's played me straight so far..."

"Hunter blocked you from the locker room... just who do you think came up with the idea... he's going to push for Dave... he's going to give you that one moment in the sun... he couldn't even push to get you a clean win over Michaels."

All of it, every single word, was true.

"Maybe if you offer to suck him off he'll let you keep the championship for an extra month or two."

At that point, Randy went ballistic.

"Fuck you Terry! Randy Orton isn't anyone's bitch. I'll get the fucking title and keep it, you just sit back and watch.�I don't need to fuck�a McMahon�just to get a shot... I'll leave that shit to Michaels and Hunter."

Damn Terry for phoning him, damn Hunter for being such a fucking politician and damn everyone for thinking they could fuck over Randy Freakin' Orton.

They would all learn soon enough just exactly what he was capable of.

****

A small frown and then Adam�s eyes were blinking open, the warm green dazed with sleep and painkillers. Less than a moment and the frown was gone, replaced by a smile that curved wickedly at the edges. Chris was just rubbing the tip of his nose over Adam�s sideburn when his lover moved. The hand in CJ�s hair pulling his lips into intimate contact with Adam�s own, mouths indulging in their own version of �good morning�, while another very awake part of his blond lover, pressed into Chris�s thigh with greedy interest. When Adam moved, Chris� hand moved as well, somehow finding its way from his lover�s hip to rest on the delicious curve of Adam�s ass. Shocked at his hand�s uncontrolled behaviour, CJ decided to punish it by leaving his fingers right where they were... he even made them start up the stroking again.

wouldn't have been nearly so grouchy if you'd used that method to wake me up every hour

"Yeah right." Chris muttered under his breath, as Adam tried to coax his hair into some semblance of order. It would have been fun to grope Adam every hour on the hour, but given the brief play they�d had with Adam�s wandering hands, Chris knew he�d have been Mr. Grouchy if he�d let the torment go on all night. It had been difficult enough for them both to sleep as it was, adding their unfulfilled sex drive into it would just have made it harder� err less fun.

Chris wasn�t sure if Adam had heard him, but suspected he might have if his lover�s sudden move and shift of his leg was anything to go by. He�d just had to press harder into Chris, Adam�s muscled thigh rubbing over CJ�s dick in a manner that could never be described as accidental. An involuntary noise that was NOT a whimper broke from Chris' throat at the contact, or maybe it was the growl. The tone of Adam�s voice was just contributing to the slow build up of desire he was feeling this morning, the slightly roughened tone shooting straight down CJ�s spine and making his toes curl into the sheets.

Then� fingers. Fingers around his cock, stroking and teasing in a manner guaranteed to have Chris start babbling incoherently very soon. Funny, because Chris could have sworn after last night that he was the �take charge� one of this relationship, but it seemed like Adam was definitely a morning person.

making up for my bad behavior

Huh? CJ hadn�t honestly thought that Adam had been that bad. Besides, he kept warning Chris that he was going to be an awful patient, so perhaps CJ had prepared himself for much worse than he was getting. In fact, right now, what he seemed to be �getting� was everything but bad.

Choice one would be a repeat of last night.

Chris� shaft, resting happily in Adam�s hand, thought that was a fantastic idea and twitched to show its �yes� vote.

Choice number two would involve you climbing on my lap and making use of my poor body in whatever way you see fit.

Given more encouragement, as Adam�s hand started to move in a slow, teasing stroke, Chris� cock thought that option was pretty awesome too. It seemed like years since he�d had Adam�s hard sex buried deep in his body, yet it had only really been just over a day�and CJ was really just dying for it.

Your third choice� you'd have to do a bit of watching� then I'll demonstrate my rather extensive oral talents.

After a moment�s mental conversation, Chris and his dick were in complete agreement on this last, final choice.

"Well now," forcing his voice back into its normal register, Chris tried to ignore the admittedly very hot sight of his pre-cum on Adam�s fingers disappearing between his lover�s lips. "Much as I�d like to take the first two options, I just can�t resist the promise of the third." Suddenly jealous of Adam�s fingers, Chris reached up and snagged Adam�s wrist away from his mouth and replaced it with his own lips. Letting his teeth linger for a moment in Adam�s full lower lip, Chris finally let go and pulled back to give them both space to breath, while his eyes fell into smiling green ones.

"Such pretty poison."

****

"Much as I�d like to take the first two options, I just can�t resist the promise of the third."

With the taste of Chris already on his tongue and aching for more, Adam couldn't say he was disappointed with the choice... in fact, he was looking forward to it eagerly. His mind was already racing ahead with plans when Chris snagged his wrist, pulled his finger from his mouth, and replaced it with his lips and tongue. That sent his brain in an altogether different direction and gave him a jump-start on getting through the first part of his proposal. When Chris pulled away, he was so lost in his brilliant blue eyes that he almost missed Chris' words.

"Such pretty poison."

He didn't even try to withhold the snort of amusement that inspired. Pretty? That reminded him of another one of his favorite Chris Jericho promos. He remembered too how much ribbing Chris had gotten over it. That didn't stop him from bringing it up though.

"Pretty? This from the man that had an entire feud revolving around how pretty he is?" He barely managed to duck the smack aimed at his head, then snuck in a quick kiss against pouty lips. "Sorry, love. Couldn't resist an opening like that," he said with a wicked grin.

Making sure his thigh brushed Chris' hard length once more, he rolled onto his back leaving his knees slightly bent and smiled up at his lover. "Remember now... hands..." After a moment of contemplation he decided he'd better add to that statement. "And mouth... off or I'll have to torture you before I let you come."

Vaguely remembering that during Chris' quick cleanup the night before, the blond had tossed the lube on the floor of all places, Adam rolled to his other side and reached for the small tube. His ribs gave just the tiniest of complaints, a small twinge, which left his face before he returned to his former position. He tossed the lube in the small space between them and then caught his lover's eyes.

Keeping his eyes locked with Chris', he dropped his hands to his abdomen and let them rest there very briefly. When he did move them, instead of working his way immediately south, he ran them lightly up his ribs. His lips quirked upwards when he noticed Chris' eyes flicker towards his hands. He hissed quietly as his fingertips brushed over his nipples, the sensitive tips pebbling instantly under the light touch. His lids lowered to half-mast as he circled two fingers around each small bud, a quiet moan slipping from his lips. There was no problem at all imagining that it was Chris' hands rather than his own causing the stimulation. The events of the past 24 plus hours and the presence of those gorgeous blue eyes more than enough to support the contention.

He felt the mattress shift slightly and caught the sight of Chris' hand hovering just above his own. He caught Chris' eyes and shook his head slightly, throwing in a teasing lick of his lips. A quiet tsk tsk was the only other warning he gave and he caught the quick flash of frustration in Chris' eyes.

One hand left off its task, heading slowly towards his stomach in a meandering path. His abdominal muscles clenched in anticipation of the teasing touch. A sidestep had his fingers dancing over the sensitive skin covering his hip. His swollen cock twitched against his stomach and a husky moan erupted as he felt an answering caress on the opposite hip. A quick swat with his hand was answered with a surprised yelp. He raised a brow as he looked at his lover, the warning obvious.

Both hands now at his hips, he lowered them along the outside of his thighs. Nimble fingers danced over kneecaps before starting the climb up sensitive inner thighs. His back arching, his feet braced against the mattress, he whined quietly in anticipation. One hand proceeded on as he eased back down against the sheets, cupping and rolling his balls in a torturous prelude. The other dropped to search along the mattress seeming to encounter Chris' hard length by pure accident before locating the object of his search... on the third attempt. He managed to keep the wicked grin off his face, but only by pulling his lower lip between his teeth.

Quickly popping the lid open, he squeezed some of the gel into his other hand not bothering with the nicety of warming it up before wrapping his hand around his swollen shaft. Snapping the lid shut with his other hand, he tossed the tube somewhere in the vicinity of the bedside table. His eyes once again sought out those of his lover, his breath catching at the pure lust reflected in the deep blue pools. He tightened his fingers slightly, a sound closely resembling Chris' name spilling from his lips as he slid his hand up the taut length.

His free hand searched along the mattress until he found one of Chris'. Entwining their fingers, he lifted the hand to his lips and kissed the back of it softly before lowering them to the mattress. His slow even rhythm was occasionally punctuated by a sharp thrust of his hips, forcing his solid length through his hand, and a whimper. His eyes remained fixated on Chris' face, noting almost vaguely the direction of his stare. Another sharp thrust of his hips and he felt a hand wrap around his own, fingers interlacing around his shaft, forcing a firmer grip.

"Oh sweetheart..." The husky moan was ripped from within.

He was too far gone to offer the admonishment that he should have. His fingers pulled from the comforting grip atop the mattress and found purchase in Chris' hair. He lurched upwards even as he tugged Chris' head down, capturing soft lips in a ravenous kiss. Each stroke of their joined hands resulted in a whimper passed from hungry lips to hungry lips as the pressure built. Knowing that he was on the verge of his release, he finally broke the kiss, falling back to the mattress just in time.

"Chris... oh god... Chris," he yelled, his back contorting at an unnatural angle. The answering pull of his ribs had no impact whatsoever on the force of his release, his hips snapping upward as it spilled forth. Warm and sticky, his release spurted over his stomach and their twined fingers.

As he collapsed back against the bed, he turned his head and nuzzled his face against Chris' shoulder while he fought to calm his breathing. After a moment or two he pulled back, a wicked twinkle in his eye. He shook his head slightly and grinned.

"Christopher, Christopher, Christopher... you bad, bad boy."

He'd never, ever leave Chris wanting, but he saw no harm in teasing his lover about his lapse in following directions.

****

"Fuck you Terry! Randy Orton isn't anyone's bitch. I'll get the fucking title and keep it, you just sit back and watch..."

The explosion when it came was lovely. So much passion... so much anger... all his to leash. He couldn't wait. Now he needed to give the little pretty just a bit more bait, then he'd have him on the line. It was a short step from there to reel him in. Terry jumped right in since he needed to keep that sympathy/empathy thing going. What a load of shit. But if it gave him what he wanted in the end... it was worth it.

"Well I don't think you're anyone's bitch, Randy, but you're going to have to give them proof. You think Vince is going to tell the writers to dump the title change just because you ask him to?"

Like any of them had any control over the writers? Yeah, right. Only those with clout could change the way Vince wanted things to go. Or those that had the crowd behind them... still maybe Randy wouldn't see that particular route unless it was pointed out to him. Terry certainly wasn't going to do the pointing. Now to hang old Stone Cold out to dry. No love lost there... he never had liked the man. Way too full of himself was Terry's opinion of the Rattlesnake.

"But I know you're a smart guy, Randy. Popping Austin in the face last night was a good start towards proving it. He deserved it. The man has a set o' balls on him... accusing you of using him when he's the one that does the using. Hell Austin's a bigger man-whore than Copeland and that's saying something... at least Copeland sticks to one sex. I'm really glad you didn't fall for that line of shit he was feeding you. Steve Austin isn't capable of sticking to one person. You and I both know why he wants to be with you, Randy. He's on his way down in this business, but you Randy... you are on your way up. He'd use your relationship to keep himself in the limelight. And the whole time you were busy worshipping him, he'd be nailing anything that moved right behind your back. We all know how cozy he is with Vince and Chris Jericho. I wouldn't be surprised if he nails them both on a regular basis."

Now Terry didn't have a clue at all if Steve was nailing Vince, but he was well aware that Austin was not doing Jericho. He'd seen the blond brush off the other man's teasing come-ons on a regular basis. No way was the little blond going to be giving it up to Austin now... especially since he had Adam... Terry's Adam... Terry's light.

Forcing down the surge of anger that thought stirred, he tried to focus on Randy's reaction. He couldn't lose it now... not when the trap was so close to taking root. So very close.

"...He's all over Jericho whenever that little loud-mouth's around... yeah... he'd just be using me... He's a fucker Terry..."

Yes. Oh yes. That had worked so much better than he planned. Hearing the rage in Randy's voice, his breath hitched slightly. His hand once again wandered over his groin in a casual caress. He bit his lip to stifle a moan as Randy swore to kick Austin's ass. He could just picture the serious chocolate eyes burning with an inner fire... the need to avenge himself against someone who had done him wrong. Those pouty lips would be pressed tightly together... how he'd love to have just a little taste.

But not now... not yet... still more work to be done... time to plant the seeds.

"So why don't you show him Randy. Show him you aren't someone to be toyed with. You have a match with Jericho and his little bitch on Monday. Take Copeland out. If Jericho is crying over his bitch being hurt, well then how do you think Austin's going to feel about that?"

"Shit man, you're serious? Fuck I don't know. In the ring? Shit Terry... .I... Fuck it! You're right. Fuck them ... Austin will suffer just by fuckin' proxy... Didn't you pick a fight with the guy last night anyway?"

Terry took a long slow breath. He'd thought maybe he'd pushed too soon, but he hadn't. He had played it just right. Randy had fallen in with his way of thinking with just a little nudge. Terry was a little irritated that Randy brought up the incident from the arena last night, but apparently the younger man wasn't privy to all the details of what had happened. All the better for Terry. He'd be able to spin things to his advantage and Randy wouldn't think to question anyone about the incident. Who was he going to ask that had been there anyway? The Smackdown talent was no more enamored of Orton than anyone else... and Terry had already driven a wedge between the trio and Randy. Yeah... he was safe. He'd just have to stick to half-truths and hope it held up.

"He threatened me, man. All I did was defend myself. What was I supposed to do? Guy tells me he's going to cripple me... all because I made an innocent comment about his pretty little piece. So I did what I had to do. Now you need to do what you have to do. Get back at Austin."

He waited. He could feel it. Randy was going to snap at the bait. And as soon as Randy took out Adam, then he'd own Randy... own him body and soul. He'd blacken Randy's soul with the need for yet more revenge and he'd have that sweet lithe body for his very own... for a time anyway. In the end Orton would end up broken, but that wasn't Terry's problem... not his problem at all.

"But that smart-ass Chris has been asking to be smacked in the mouth for years Terry. ... That messes with both Adam and St... Stone Cold's heads at the same time, right? Gets two birds for the price of one pain in the ass."

Oh for pity's sake. Terry scowled at the phone. 'Don't try to think, pretty boy, it's not your forte,' he thought silently. Besides... Adam'd kill the little idiot and put an end to Terry's plans for Hunter, Vince, and Heyman before they even had a chance. He had to nip this in the bud... and now.

"No! You don't want to take out Jericho. You wouldn't make it out of the ring. If Copeland threatened me over a simple little comment about the two of them fucking, what do you think he's going to do if you hurt the guy? Besides... there's another advantage here that you're not thinking about Randy. If you take out Copeland, Vince can't go and give him your IC title, now can he?"

Now that he had that out of the way... he needed more of a lure for Randy. And he had just the ticket...

"Now... if you do me this fav... take out Copeland as planned, then I'll be more than happy to help you with your plans for Hunter and Vince. I mean they aren't looking out for you Randy. You need someone that's on your side... someone that will help you prove to them that you are the future of the company. If you get Vince's golden boy out of the picture for awhile, he'll need someone to carry the company... and if you are already slated to get a shot at the title, who do you think that someone will be Randy?"

So close... so very, very close. Just one more little bit and he'd have him... hook, line, and sinker. Terry could feel it. What he wanted was almost his.

"After Raw on Monday, then we can meet up. I'll head to Dayton and wait at the hotel. I'll help you figure out how to get back at them. I'm thinking our best bet is by going through Dave. It's obvious Hunter has a thing for the guy and he'd be pretty unhappy over losing such a nice looking piece of ass. Shawn would be a better idea, but he has too many liabilities. You don't want to deal with the Clique. They'd eat you alive, baby."

The endearment has been as much a plan as everything else. Let Randy think that Terry might have a little crush on him. Let him think that was why Terry was willing to help him. It didn't matter. Once Randy figured out the truth... it'd be too late.

****

to be continued...

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