The office door flies open, a enraged James Storm kicking it into the wall with his cowboy boot; the sounding the familiar crush of drywall. He throws himself over the desk, the weight of his body toppling Ric Flair from his chair as they brawl onto the floor, the champagne bottle on the desk instantly a unnecessary in the hands of the Tennessee Cowboy. Flair wasn't going to touch Kazarian ever again.
Another boring, typical night in the Storm household. No night club, but a game, a few (hundred) beers, and a romp in the sheets meant no complaints out of Kaz; aside from the cow mooing outside the living room window. "Ya'll ever see a hamster with big nuts?" James starts the conversation off. A bewildered look on Kaz's face that he can't see, "What nuts are you talking about?…" he answers slowly. "Ball sacks!" A louder than needed response from James. Kazarian doesn't answer back, but stands up to deal with the animal outside the window he's sure has a vendetta for him, James follows along to get another beer from the fridge, "Go offer her some healthy snacks," he smirks, watching Kaz look through the items in typical confusion, opening a cupboard to browse. "I'm going to get a packet of organic nuts… as in normal nuts… not a ball sack…" he says confused, struggling with a word choice.
Styles and Kazarian are rapidly downing shots passed to them by Flair and Storm… their clever plot beginning to take effect right before their eyes. Never one to let anyone's eyes off of him, Kaz is headed to the dance floor to move his extraordinary body in only the way he could. Intoxicated, Flair's convincing sounds like a good idea, as he convinces his new toy, AJ, to go join the sweet side of Armenian ass. "I've been to a lot of strip clubs in my days," Flair flaunts, hooting wildly at the sight laid out before him, "But those two got the best asses I've ever seen!"
Kazarian's laugh is like a barrage of bullets to AJ's ears. He watches with piercing blue eyes as he fawns over the legendary man that he loves, wrapped around his arm and kissing up and down his neck. Flair doesn't bother to acknowledge the plans that Styles is laying out before him, a perfect foolproof plan to regain his World Title; though the young man doesn't realize it. Kazarian speaks up, his faded chocolate eyes rolling, but never taking the time to cast upon the other man, "You're flying, AJ?" he chuckles, answering his own question, "Yeah, you are… but nobody's watching."
Kazarian swipes at his sharp nails with precise precision, filing away as he kept only a small portion of his concentration on James who he had been resting up against on the couch. Having not come around to the idea of moving to Tennessee with his Cowboy, the other man is coming up with options as he takes thoughtful sips from the beer in his hand. "If ya'll don't like that there option," he starts, "We can live in a typical suburban neighborhood, with one of them picket fences that look like Doug Williams' teeth."