Conspiracy Theories - Kate
NC17 - m/m slash, language
Characters: Triple H/Randy Orton, HBK/Edge
Summary: Fallout from the Orton/Edge parody of DX on the 10/16/06 RAW. Pure PWP.
Disclaimer: We own neither the characters nor the individuals who portray them. Written soley for our own enjoyment.

"I still can't believe they won!" Edge fumed, jabbing Randy Orton's keycard at an uncooperative hotel door lock.

"I know," Randy commiserated from the floor of the hallway. He frowned as he leaned back against the wall. "Maybe it was the next one."

"Next what?" snapped Edge, glaring impatiently.

"Next door over. That one, I think."

"You 'think'? You can't even remember your own room number? Jesus Christ, Orton, how--"

"Hey!" Randy struggled upright as he defended himself. "You're the one who had to go out for drinks after the match."

Edge snorted. "You had two Coronas in half an hour, Randy. You're not drunk."

"I got hit in the head with a chair, remember?" Randy sulked as Edge finally located the correct door. "Thanks," he added sullenly, shouldering his way past the smaller man and into his room. Not bothering to turn on the lights, he collapsed onto the small sofa with a groan.

Edge clenched his jaw as he dragged Randy's bags into the room. "There," he announced with finality. "Now, I'm going to go--"

"Grab me some water?" Randy finished hopefully.

"Fine," Edge seethed , "but only because I need you feeling better by Cyber Sunday." Stalking to the bathroom, Edge tore the paper wrapping off a plastic cup and reached for the faucet. If Orton expected bottled water, he could get up and get it himself.

Randy's arm was draped across his eyes, and he didn't move as Edge returned with the water. "Here," Edge nudged him awake, shoving the cup into his hand.

"Thanks, Hun," Randy murmured drowsily, obediently taking a sip as Edge laughed abruptly.

"You must've gotten hit harder than I thought! Did you just call me 'hon'?" Edge asked incredulously.

"Hunt," Randy corrected as his eyes slid closed again. "I accidentally called you 'Hunt'. As in 'Hunter'." Two seconds later, his eyes flew open and he blinked at Edge's frozen expression. "That didn't make it sound better at all, did it?" Randy asked mournfully.

Edge opened his mouth to yell, but no words leapt to mind. He settled for shaking his head violently.

"I didn't think so." Randy sighed heavily. "Well, I guess you had to find out sometime."

"Find out what, exactly?" Edge choked out as he watched Randy struggle to pull off his shoes.

"About me and Hunter." Randy looked up from his laces and sighed again. "Haven't you been listening to me?"

"I knew it!" Edge shouted. "I knew I couldn't trust you. It's a conspiracy!"

"Really? Where?" Randy asked nervously. "I hate conspiracies."

"You, you retarded monkey-boy! You and DX are in on this together. You're setting me up for Cyber Sunday."

"I don't think so." Randy looked genuinely confused. "Why would I set you up, man? We're on the same team, and I really hate losing. More than conspiracies."

"But you and Hunter--"

"That's outside the ring. Hunter hates losing, too. He hit me with a chair tonight." Randy touched his forehead for emphasis. "It hurt."

"But we're feuding with them Randy. You said you hated them. We did a parody of them tonight."

"Yeah, that was funny, wasn't it? I really liked your nose. That was a great touch."

Edge sank slowly into a chair across from Randy. "You couldn't have told me about this earlier, at least?"

"You didn't ask," Randy giggled to himself. "Look, don't be pissed. I couldn't have told you anything useful."

"Nothing? No hidden injuries? No weaknesses?"

Randy frowned in deep thought, then brightened. "Hunter's go tthis really cute ticklish spot right under his--"

"I do not need to know that!" Edge roared.

"Randy?" The hotel door swung in slowly. "You OK? The door was op--" Hunter froze at the doorway as he saw Edge.

"Hey, Hunt!" Randy greeted cheerfully.

"Randy? You in there?" The top of Shawn Michaels' head intermittently appeared over Hunter's motionless shoulder as Shawn bounced to try to see into the room. "How's your head?"

Hunter suddenly stumbled forward as Shawn shoved him in the back. Shawn laughed as he finally pushed his way through the doorway, stopping abruptly as he noticed Edge. "Hurting I hope," he said, staring blankly at Randy. "Your head, I mean, Because we hate you. Goodbye," he added after a slight hesitation, calmly walking out of the room.

A few heartbeats passed before Shawn reentered the room. "No, Hunter, you can't stay and kill them," he scolded theatrically, grabbing the bigger man's elbow and attempting to drag him out the door.

Randy laughed. "It's OK, Shawn, he already knows."

"Oh." Shawn looked momentarily disappointed, then looked at Hunter and shrugged. "Well, in that case..." Leaving space on the sofa for Hunter, Shawn dropped to a spot on the floor, leaning back on his elbows. "So. Were you two talking about us?"

"I'm just saying," Hunter shrugged one shoulder, leaving the other arm wrapped loosely around Randy, "it could have used a midget."

"The sketch was already funny. It didn't need a midget," Edge argued.

"Every parody needs a midget. Midgets are always funny. Back me up on this, Shawn."

"I think it's a personal style issue," Shawn pointed out. "I mean, if you and I were doing the parody, I'd say sure, bring on the midgets. Of course, if you and I were parodying DX...I guess I could be you and you could be me, because otherwise we'd just be ourselves and...screw it, I'm lost."

"Me, too," Randy murmured, leaning back against Hunter as he stretched his legs over the arm of the couch.

"But there are only two members of DX to begin with," Edge insisted. "Who would the midget have been?"

"Shawn," Hunter laughed as Shawn rolled his eyes.

"I'm not--"

"He's not that short," Edge interrupted. "He just hangs out with big people. And anyway, he uses it to his advantage."

"Why, thank you, Edge," Shawn noted, sticking his tongue out at Hunter and provoking another laugh.

"My fault," Hunter raised his hands appeasingly. "I didn't know we had the president of the Shawn Michaels Fan Club in the room."

Edge flushed. "I didn't--"

"Are we going to do it or not?" Randy interrupted bluntly, craning his neck to squint at Hunter. "Because if we're not, I need a shower before bed."

"By all means, don't let us stop you," Hunter teased, urging Randy to his feet. "Anybody got a camera?"

"That wasn't funny, Hunt," Randy whined. "I can't believe you showed those pictures on TV."

"I can't believe you still had mine," Shawn added. "You're a sick, sick man."

"I can't argue that," Hunter admitted, getting to his feet and following Randy to the bathroom. "You two play nice, out here," he teased as he disappeared behind the bathroom door.

"I didn't mean to get all weird there," Edge clarified after a short silence. "I mean, I still think you two are dicks and all, I just...I'm not the biggest guy in the company either, so it was kind of cool to see a guy like you kicking ass."

Shawn nodding in understanding. "That's cool. Of course, now you kick plenty of ass yourself, so..."

"I still like to watch tapes," Edge admitted, turning a little pink. "Just every now and again."

"For research purposes," Shawn provided helpfully. "For Cyber Sunday. I've been watching tapes of you, too."

"Really?" Edge blinked in surprise. "You've been watching my matches?"

"Well, yes. And the Live Sex Celebration, of course. That was pretty great."

"Lita had been annoying all day," Edge explained defensively. "She didn't really want to do it, and--"

"Hey, don't worry about it," Shawn reassured him. "There were lots more flattering shots than the one we used. I thought you looked pretty great, actually."

"They're so going to do it," Hunter announced, keeping his ear pressed against the bathroom door.

"At least somebody is," Randy sighed melodramatically, testing the shower's water temperature with his hand.

"Impatient much?" Hunter raised his eyebrows at the younger man, inhaling sharply as Randy casually discarded his shirt.

"Just a little tired," Randy shrugged. "I took some aspirin, but my head still hurts."

"Sorry about that," Hunter muttered, approaching Randy from behind and wrapping both arms around his waist. "I didn't want to take any chances."

"Good thinking," Randy smirked. "Because I would've won if you hadn't cheated."

Hunter made a doubtful sound but let the comment pass in favor of sliding his palm down the front of Randy's slacks. "You aren't planning to give me the old 'I've got a headache' excuse, are you?"

"What headache?" Randy whispered, pressing back hard against Hunter.

Hunter moaned appreciatively and nibbled the edge of Randy's ear, his hand drifting upwards to fumble with his belt buckle. Randy toed off his socks, then deliberately stepped away, smiling teasingly up at Hunter as he shoved his pants, underwear, and belt to the floor, stepping out of them in one smooth motion.

"I knew there was a reason I wanted you in Evolution," Hunter noted, smiling. He moved slowly to close the distance between them, letting his eyes roam over Randy's tanned skin.

Randy shivered and grabbed a handful of Hunter's black cotton t-shirt as soon as he came within reach. Hunter took the cue and came forward more quickly, pressing Randy back against the wall beside the hotel shower/tub and meeting his lips in a demanding kiss.

Several lust-fogged seconds later, Randy broke the kiss with a gasp as his stiffened member brushed lightly against Hunter's denim-clad hip. "You're wearing too many clothes. And the wall is cold."

"You whine too much," Hunter grinned, stepping back to peel off his t-shirt.

"Yeah, but you love it." Randy tested the shower temperature again, then stepped into the tub as Hunter finished shedding his clothes.

Randy moaned loudly as the hot water pounded into the sore muscles of his back.

"Jesus, Orton, wait for me," Hunter joked, pulling a condom from the wallet in his discarded jeans. He opened the wrapper and rolled it on quickly before joining Randy in the tub and reclaiming his kiss.

This kiss ended more quickly, both men fighting for breath through the heavy steam rising around them. Hunter's breathing rasped in Randy's ear as Randy trailed a line of light kisses along Hunter's jaw line and down the side of his neck. Randy smiled and nuzzled Hunter's shoulder as he felt Hunter's hands slide down the smooth skin of his back and onto his ass.

Suddenly tensing, Hunter swore softly. Randy frowned up at him in confusion. "Forgot the lube," Hunter explained apologetically. "It's in my bag upstairs."

"Borrow some of Shawn's," Randy suggested, a touch impatiently.

"As much as he's been drooling over Edge lately? If all goes well, he'll need it himself." Hunter pulled back, then suddenly grabbed a bottle from the ceramic shower shelf, showing it hopefully to Randy.

"Hotel conditioner?"

"We could try it, at least."

Randy hedged. "What does it smell like?"

Hunter laughed out loud. "Randy, does it really matter?"

"Maybe not to you," Randy sniffed, "but it's not your ass--"

"OK, OK, OK. But listen, we're in the shower, you know? It'll wash right off."

"I guess so." Randy took the tube from Hunter, popping the cap and sniffing critically.

Hunter rolled his eyes as he took the conditioner back. "Let me, OK?"

Randy melted back into Hunter's arms, contentedly tracing the curve of a bicep as Hunter's slick fingers pressed into him. Hunter smiled down at him and leaned in for another kiss. As Randy pressed forward against him, Hunter's fingers lightly brushed his prostate, and Randy gave a surprised yelp that echoed off the shower walls.

"What was--" Edge caught himself and slammed his mouth shut before the question could finish. He didn't really want to know.

Shawn grinned and answered anyway. "That, my friend, was Hunter and Randy forgetting that other people sleep in this hotel. Wait for it..." he added, cocking his head to one side. His smile widened as he heard Hunter's muffled "Sorry" from the bathroom, followed by quiet laughter. "It's OK!" Shawn called back. "Nobody heard."

"I see," Edge said tightly. "I thought maybe Hunter hit him in the head with a chair again."

"Why would he do that? And why would a chair be in the bathroom, anyway?"

"Because we're fighting at Cyber Sunday!" Edge exploded, ignoring the second question. "Even though I seem to be the only one who remembers that."

"Really?" Shawn asked in mock surprise. "We are? You might want to tell Vince about that. He normally likes to know about those things."

Edge grabbed two handfuls of his own hair, yanking in frustration. "Are you trying to drive me insane, Michaels? Is that why you're still here?"

"Of course not. I'm staying for the sparkling conversation." Shawn batted his eyes outrageously, then laughed at Edge's murderous expression. "I've got a better question, Edge. Why are you still here?"

Edge blinked. "I'm waiting for Randy. We need to strategize."

"Do you?" Shawn asked skeptically. "To beat DX? Hmm...yeah, I guess those guys are pretty tough. I'd suggest this: try hitting them harder than they hit you. And if you get a choice, try hitting them first. How's that for a strategy?"

"Are you completely incapable of taking anything seriously?"

"Are you completely devoid of a sense of humor?" Shawn rolled his eyes skyward. "Canadians."

Edge narrowed his eyes. "I plan to kick your ass so bad you retire for good. Is that funny to you?"

Shawn shrugged philosophically. "I've had my ass kicked before. So has Hunter. We'll live."

"Don't you even...care?"

Shawn's forehead crinkled as he said seriously, "I care more than you could possibly understand. I've worked my ass off to get where I am and I'm not ready to give that up to a couple rookies with delusions of grandeur."

"But--"

"But," Shawn cut him off, sitting up straight. "What you and Randy have got aren't delusions. You're good. You're really good."

"I know we're good," Edge agreed, looking slightly stunned. "So why won't you and Hunter admit that?"

Shawn sighed. "Because then nobody would believe it. Look, Hunter and I are coming as hard as we can. If you're as good as we think you are, everyone will see it. If not," he shrugged, "then you're not, and Hunter and I will get to stay on top a little longer."

Edge nodded shortly, frowning as he adjusted to the new information. "So how come you've been such an ass?"

"It's a birth defect."

"I mean it, Shawn. What was all that shit about my...my sex celebration?"

Shawn groaned. "It was a joke, man. It was just...flirting."

Edge stilled. "Flirting."

"Yeah." Shawn dragged a hand through his hair. "I was just trying to get a rise out of you." He immediately winced and added, "Sorry. Bad pun."

"Really bad pun." Edge hesitated before demanding, "Why me?"

Shawn shrugged. "I'm bored. You're hot. We're both here. Hell, maybe it'll get you to lighten up a little."

"I don't need to 'lighten up,' Shawn Michaels! You and Triple H have been making my life a living hell for months now. You've humiliated me, you've cost me title shots, you've--"

"Give me a break!" Shawn groaned. "I wanted to fool around, not cut dueling promos."

"I was getting to that."

"Really?" Shawn's eyebrows shot up. "Well, in that case, take your time."

Edge struggled to avoid laughing as he shook his head. "Screw it. This doesn't make us boyfriends, OK?"

"Never even crossed my mind," Shawn promised as he flashed a smile.

"No telling anyone about this."

"Scout's honor."

"And if this is all part of an elaborate plot to handcuff me to the bed and spraypaint DX symbols all over and leave me for the maid to find, I swear to God, Shawn, I'll break into your hotel room and replace all your shampoo with Nair."

Shawn blinked, shook his head, and blinked again. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I think my brain shut down somewhere around the 'handcuff me to the bed' part."

Edge dug the heels of both hands into his eye sockets. "You are, without a doubt, the most--hey!" He broke off in surprise as Shawn crossed the floor to grab Edge's wrists, pushing them to the side and leaning in for a lingering kiss.

As soon as Edge relaxed, Shawn dropped his wrists and moved closer, skimming his hands up Edge's arms to tangle gently in his hair. Edge shifted and grabbed Shawn's hips to guide him even closer, pulling him down onto his knees in the seat of the chair, straddling Edge's thighs.

"Wow," Edge breathed as Shawn's lips traveled to a spot just below his ear.

"At least it shut you up," Shawn smirked, one hand untucking and then sliding up underneath Edge's blue dress shirt.

Edge's hands flew to his own shirt, impatiently unfastening each button as Shawn distracted him with another mind-blowing kiss. As the final button was loosened, Edge leaned forward in order to shrug off the garment.

Shawn pushed him firmly back against the seat. "Good enough," he murmured, scooting back to trail kisses down the center of Edge's newly exposed chest.

Shawn slid gracefully off the chair and onto the floor as he worked his way lower. He unfastened the button of Edge's slacks and then paused, eyes glittering as he tilted his head back to look up at Edge. "Last chance to back out," he offered, tossing his head to shake a few strands of hair away from his face.

Edge silently lifted his hips in response, grabbing a condom from his back pocket just as Shawn tugged his slacks and boxers down around his ankles.

Shawn was still amusing himself with small licks to the inside of Edge's knees and thighs by the time Edge had opened and rolled on the condom. Edge tried a quiet whine to get his attention, but that only provoked a teasing smile from Shawn.

"Listen, asshole," Edge growled, "I--damn it!" He arched suddenly as Shawn wrapped his mouth around him. "You did that on purpose!" Edge accused somewhat breathlessly. Shawn blinked innocently in response, shifting position to run the flat of his tongue up the underside of Edge's shaft.

Edge continued his quiet accusations, his voice growing increasingly desperate as Shawn continued his maddening tempo changes, shifting unexpectedly from heat and pressure to long, lazy strokes of his tongue. Finally giving into Edge's pleading, Shawn settled into a quick, steady rhythm. Edge stiffened, nails digging in tot he arms of the chair, then collapsed with a moan as Shawn pulled off and sat back.

"I hate to interrupt," Hunter said softly from the bathroom doorway, laughing as Edge's eyes snapped open, "but we're out of hot water. And it seems you might need the bathroom more than we do right now."

Edge flushed and yanked his pants up as Shawn's self-satisfied expression drained away. "You used all the hot water?" he asked Hunter mournfully. "Again?"

"Sorry," Hunter shrugged. "It was worth it."

"Yeah, it was," Randy agreed with a yawn, coming out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and heading straight for his bed. "Hey, Shawn. Hey, Edge. Are we done strategizing? That's good. We're gonna win. No conspiracies while I'm asleep, Hunter. Good night." With that, he collapsed into his bed, eyes already closed.

Shawn turned back to Edge. "If I promise my room is conspiracy-free, could I lure you there with promises of hot water?"

"I guess I can afford to take a chance," Edge conceded.

"All right, cool," Hunter announced. "I'm staying here, then. See you tomorrow, Shawn. Maybe we can sit down and come up with an evil plot over breakfast."

"I'll check my schedule."

"Excellent. See you at Cyber Sunday, Edge."

Shawn and Hunter were still practicing their evil laughter as Edge buttoned his shirt, rolled his eyes, and walked out the door.