A/N: SWEET. I'm so happy I'm not the only one drooling over John/Shawn (okay, so maybe not everyone is drooling but still…my point stands –cough–). Anyway, SRC reviewed my story and I'm like having a freakin' heart attack!! I love her stories! YOU should definitely check 'em out. She's like the J.K. Rowling of wrestling, well to me, except that's probably not a good example cuz I don't like Harry Potter but you get my drift (I couldn't think of a better example, hee hee).
OMG: SLASH! Yes. Slash. MichaelsCena. Remember, the back button is your friend. Flames will be fed to KANE. MWA HAHAHA!
Time Period & Disclaimer: (found in first chapter.)
…so I can choose.
The Heartbreak Kid looked back to find the source of the shout to find none other than Mickie James waving from the end of the hallway. He was only two doors away from his room…maybe he could sneak—
He sighed quietly. Turning, he walked back with his hands in his pockets and tried to smile at the RAW diva. She was grinning as she ran up to him, clad in a track suit and a water bottle in hand, apparently back from the morning jog. "Hey Mickie," he said and luck had it that Torrie Wilson happened to step out of the elevator beside them at that very moment.
The blonde walked up to them cheerfully. "Mickie, we've been waiting for you," her eyes landed on Shawn and she smiled kindly.
Mickie nodded. "Yeah, I was headed down but I saw Shawn. I wanted to ask him to join us for breakfast," she looked to him eagerly, "So how 'bout it?"
"Good idea! We could use the company," and Torrie turned to him, too.
"Oh, well I would love to ladies but…" Mickie frowned, "I…uh, I have a meeting with Vince and I'm already going to be late," he lied. Out of the corner of his eye, he thought Torrie looked almost concerned. Concerned, for him no doubt but why?
"But Shawn," Mickie's tone had changed and she no longer sounded enthusiastic, "you were headed to your room."
"Yeah, I forgot my phone," he said, and it was true. He did actually forget his phone when he left for the meeting. Torrie looked like she bought it and was nodding but now Mickie's eyebrows were drawn together, worriedly. She smiled anyway and said they would go out next time, but when he turned to leave he could still feel her eyes burning on the back of his head.
He walked in and looked around the room, carefully. He couldn't see it anywhere.
He walked over to the nightstand to use the hotel phone and call himself when alas, he spotted his black cellphone next to the lamp. Besides feeling stupid, he was relieved he hadn't lost it. He couldn't remember half the numbers he needed if they weren't on the phone. He checked it for any messages or missed calls and sure enough, there were three missed calls from Hunter, Jeff, and John. Jeff left a message too, Buncha guys& gals to club later. CALl mE or eLsE!!!1 Typical Jeff. John left a voicemail and Hunter nothing. Of course, Shawn sighed, typical Hunter.
He called his voicemail to check out John's message and turned on the TV, switching from listening to watching.
"It's John. Aw Shawn, are you still napping? What are you doing at night, bro? Obviously not sleeping…anyway, I thought we could set a time for the practice. I'm free tomorrow afternoon-ish, and Thursday and Sunday all day. So call me back whenever you get up, lazy ass (John started snickering). Later, man."
Shawn rolled his eyes and felt the small smile playing on his lips. Well, he could either call John or call Hunter. He chucked the remote at the TV (and missed on purpose) before dialing a number he knew by heart.
A deep voice answered after a couple of rings and Shawn smiled, "Hey Hunt…how're you feeling?"
"I'm fine, just bored out of my mind. And you?" he asked, pleasantly and so unlike Hunter that Shawn had to laugh.
For some reason, he felt better. "I'm okay, I think I might have to kill someone but I'm hanging in there."
Hunter laughed on the other line, soft but gruff. "Now Shawn, no mass destruction until I get back," he admonished and the teasing tone wiped the grin from Shawn's face. There was no longer room for DX in the WWE and Shawn didn't have the heart to say anything.
"So…" Hunter began, uncomfortable with the lack of response.
"So, I've been talking to Vince," Hunter grumbled.
"Oh," Shawn paused, not knowing what exactly that meant, "Okay."
"We were talking about Cena and you bringing back the tag-team. Well, more like he was talking about it and I was listening…" Hunter's voice held something close to anticipation and Shawn could feel the question there though it wasn't said. Whose idea is that? He thought it was funny they could communicate like this without speaking as if they were brothers, and yet sometimes Hunt confused the hell out of Shawn (and then he wouldn't know what was up or down with the man).
"Yeah, we had a meeting earlier today about that. His idea and he seems really into it," he stopped there. He didn't want to talk about it all of a sudden and he didn't know why.
"Hah, so what did he say when you refused?"
When Shawn didn't respond, Hunter's voice turned firm, "You know…when you refused? Said no?"
"You did say no, didn't you?"
Shawn blanched. "I didn't say anything. He just told me about it," it was a half-truth but half was better than nothing. Damn it, what was he supposed to say? Shawn had practically said yes to Vince already and he couldn't take it back.
"But you are going to refuse…right? I mean, what about DX, Shawn?" Hunter's voice was soft, pleading but demanding at the same time and Shawn couldn't handle it. He could feel the guilt in the pit of his stomach.
That's what I said…"Vince said DX was over, Hunt."
"Over?" Shawn knew he couldn't just give up DX. It wouldn't be fair to Hunter or their fans and it wouldn't be fair to him, but what could he do? At the end of the day, it was Vince's decision and his alone to make.
"But…why?!" Hunter's voice had turned angry and close to outright yelling.
Shawn blinked, a little taken aback by Hunter's incensed response. "Uh…because the boss said so?" he tried to play it off as a joke, hoping to calm Hunter down.
"Shawn, how could you let Vince push you around like that?!"
"Well I didn't –"
"—and for what? So Cena can look good in front of the few fans he has left?"
The enunciated Cena gave Shawn pause and he forced himself to stay calm. "That's not it."
"Then what is? I don't understand why Vince gives such favor to that brat, and he makes you – of all people – put up with him!"
Okay, it sounded bad when he put it like that, but it wasn't so drastic. "Oh come on, Hunter, stop making him out to be public enemy number-one. Cena's not that bad and he's really working his ass out there with me. I know, alright? And so does Vince."
"...wait a second, why are you defending him?"
"Who, Vince?" he asked, although he knew that's not who Hunter was talking about.
"I'm not. I just…uh…"
"Oh right. You're not, how silly of me."
He rolled his eyes, feeling the exasperation. "I don't know," he said truthfully, "I guess it's because you're really down on the kid." Sure, he stuck up for him but it was only because Hunter was so demanding. Shawn knew what it was like to be put on the spot and be asked to give 110 percent effort 110 percent of the time.
"Well what did you expect?"
He frowned at Hunter's tone. "Jeez, take it easy Hunt."
Displeased, Hunter snorted but didn't reply. Shawn sighed.
"So he may not be the youngest, but that doesn't mean he's experienced enough for you to be so hard on him."
"And yet he's WWE Champion."
Another sigh. Touché. "Alright, alright, I get it. He doesn't deserve it – blah, blah, blah – he should lose it – blah, blah, blah – Mr. McMahon sucks – blah, blah, blah."
Hunter chuckled, "Thank you."
Shawn smiled. "Any time."
"It's fine," he assured, tired of the conversation.
"…okay, but why are you so hunky-dory with all of this?"
"Because it isn't a big deal," Shawn said. The topic was making him a little restless and he started pacing the room.
"Quite a big deal," Hunter countered, now sounding suspicious.
"There's no point in complaining if I can't change it."
"What?! That's the whole point of complaining, Shawn, because you can't change it!"
"What the hell kind of logic is that?" he demanded. It was like arguing with a five-year-old and he was losing his patience.
"Our logic," Hunter's voice was quiet, "what's going on over there, Shawn?"
"Nothing! Can we talk about something else?"
"Huh? Why?!" he whined and Shawn frowned irritably.
"Why are we even talking about this? It doesn't matter!" he insisted and his pace quickened the louder his voice got.
"It does too matter!"
"Shawn!" he mocked. "Just tell me what's going on! Is it Vince? Is he threatening you to do this?"
"Alright, Hunter, that's enough. If I become a tag-team with Cena, it'll be my own choice and nobody is going to pressure me."
"So if you two do become a team, it'll be willingly?"
"YES, IF!" and he threw his hands in the air for emphasize even though Hunter couldn't see him.
"Okay, fine! Calm down," Hunter muttered, shushing the Heartbreak Kid. "What's with you and that kid anyway? Are you guys buddy-buddy now?" He sounded disgruntled and something close to upset but Shawn's heart was beating loud in his ears and he didn't notice.
"What's with you and Cena anyway? Are you guys mortal enemies now?" he retaliated to which Hunter stayed quiet.
"Fine," Hunter muttered after a minute, truce. "So. Basketball."
Shawn took a deep breath and willed his heart to slow down, "…yeah, basketball."
The longer he thought about his talk with Hunter, the harder it was to stop. It was eating away at his resolution. He knew if he continued thinking about it, he would eventually give in and tell Vince he didn't want to be tag partners with Cena. But he couldn't do that. He had already semi-"agreed" and he wasn't one to go back on his word.
Still…Hunter wasn't exactly thrilled with the idea of giving up DX, and in all honesty, neither was Shawn. Hunt was his best friend and Shawn would gladly give up whatever he had with John for his best friend – even if John was…erm, well, John was something more than Hunter but his point stands. Hunter was Hunter. His best friend and once-upon-a-time partner.
Damn it, he didn't know what to do anymore. (Not that he knew in the first place, but at least he knew what he was dealing with back then.) No matter how many times he asked himself what am I going to do?, the answer didn't come to him.
The slowly moving hours in his room had at least made one thing clear: he needed to get the hell out of here.
Go out, try and have fun, and be the ordinary Shawn Michaels again (the man, not the best friend or the wrestler). He never thought he'd be grateful to all the busybodies inviting him out. Something was up with them and he'd find out what, but right now, he needed to get his mind off things. He needed a distraction.
He picked up his cell phone and searched his phonebook for Jeff's number, idly wondering how said wrestler got along with his brother/tag-team partner. They were brothers so he figured they probably got along great. After all, Shawn thought it would probably be hell having to spend so much time with someone you hated or didn't get along with…wait a minute…that's it!
"Jeff, it's Shawn—"
"—oh, hey man! Did you get my message?"
"Yeah, I did," he said before Jeff took over.
"Awesome, so you are going hit the bar with us right?"
"Sure am, just tell me when and where."
"Right on," he said simply and Shawn could practically hear the smile in Jeff's voice. He was smiling too. He knew how he could get out of being Cena's tag partner without going back on his word. Now all he needed was John himself – and maybe a plan.