Handling The Outcome

Randy was the one with lots of girl fans chasing after him. Okay so they should have been more careful, they were already on their last warning but it was the night after Wrestlemania, how else were they supposed to celebrate?

The last time they'd been caught had been because of over-partying too. It was after Armageddon when Randy got the Intercontinental belt. It had been a night of discoveries, such as Mark finding out that champagne tasted far, far better when licked off Randy's stomach than it did any other way. Unfortunately they'd been discovered too.

Now, in the company's defence, Mark had to admit that they had no problem with IC champ being gay. They don't mind who he's fucking, girl, guy, random farm animals - which had to be the only way Bob Holly ever gets any loving - so long as he's discreet. So after Armageddon the management thought he and Randy might get the idea and be a little more careful. In their defence they were, more or less, until Wrestlemania. And the girls that accidentally found out.

Randy came out of the room, looking mighty fine in his smart suit.

Mark meanwhile thought he looked really awkward, probably because this was the first time he'd worn the suit in years, and he'd bulked up somewhere along the line. His sleeves came half way up his forearm and made him look even more like juvenile delinquent than was entirely necessary. He'd much rather have come in one of his tracksuits. They were smart enough and, more importantly, they fitted.

He called Randy up this morning, they weren't supposed to see each other, to show willing, he supposed but no ban had been put on mobile phones. Randy's reply had been its usual silly self, "Mark, I love seeing your ass in velour, but I don't think it gives the right impression, do you?"
Mark had to admit that it probably didn't. Although really you could probably spin it either way, he could say that I was heading to the gym straight after. It might have washed, but then again it probably wouldn't. Hopefully he'd look properly respectful, remorseful and other things he wasn't in the suit.

Randy didn't even flash him a signal; no thumbs up for it went okay, no good luck for his own meeting. It was just his luck that Randy really was playing the apologetic penitent to the full.

~~~~

Randy had come up to Mark's room, working on the principle that since they weren't supposed to see each other they were less likely to be caught all the way out here, far from where JR's room was right near the two rooms that were Evolution's own. Ric hadn't been best pleased, but he'd promised not to rat on Randy, and he'd keep that promise.

Plus even if they were caught they could just say they were saying their goodbyes and that Garrison was acting as their chaperone. Which he was supposed to be doing but he'd hidden in the bathroom with his Walkman, playing country rock at ear-bleeding volume. Garrison was a stand-up guy that way.

"So, what's going to be happening to you?" Mark had already texted Randy with his news, which was what got him up here so fast when he was supposed to be being a good boy and regretting his actions.
"Nothing much, just got to be on my best behaviour for the next hundred years or I'm going to be grounded."
"Nice! How come I'm the one being sent to Smackdown then?" It wasn't so much a question as a complaint; he knew it wouldn't be Randy that got the worst of it. Randy never did. "Especially since you were the one that was shouting 'fuck me harder' loud enough for people on the corridor to hear."
"Hey if you'd obliged at the first time of asking then maybe I wouldn't have to."
"Oh go to Hell."
"I thought that was where you were going."

Mark's efforts to tell Randy exactly where he could get off for that last comment were hampered by him laughing.
"So, what are you going to be doing on Smackdown?"
"I'm going to be 'the reflection of perfection'."
Randy once again found it hard to breath through laughter. "Oh man, that is sooooo gay."

Mark waited until Randy's laughter had almost burnt out. "You done?"
"Nope." Randy carried on laughing for a little longer. "Now I'm done. You have to admit it does sound pretty stupid though."
"It should be pretty cool. I'm going to be working with Teddy, which is really wow. I mean think of all the greats he's managed."

Randy coughed to pull Mark back on to the matter at hand. Much though he loved talking about wrestling with him, and they had done for hours at a time before now, he really didn't want to be talking about that while he was supposed to be saying his goodbyes. He supposed that Ric would give him half an hour's grace since they would be leaving in two, but no more. Plus Garrison would probably start complaining that he needed to pack in about half an hour.

Packing.

Mark would be packing like everyone else, but he wouldn't be getting on the same flight. Heck, his flight wasn't even from the same airport. Mark even had an extra hour's grace in the hotel before he had to take a hired car to an airport an hour's drive away. Sure he could have gone with the rest of them to the airport and flown by a different route, but it was more expensive so that was a no go.

They would be leaving in completely different directions. That was when it hit Randy.

"Mark, there's something I've got to tell you."
"Randy, you're about to get sentimental." Mark said it to stop him saying whatever he was going to say. Mark really wasn't big on sentiment. Not in a five buck bang way but he just wasn't. Randy was looking forward to having time to find out if this personality quirk was really a true reflection, or if it was because Mark was the sort of guy who was like a soft centre candy. Unfortunately there was no time.
"I wasn't, I was just..."
"Shh, yes you were. And much though I would like to hug, kiss and console you, we probably don't have the time since Garrison will come back out at the least convenient moment." That was getting to be kind of traditional. "Plus I'm supposed to keep my hands off you which is more than hard enough as it is."

Mark walked him to the door, which Randy thought was odd, he'd never done that, even at the awkward stage of their relationship. Which, okay, had only lasted one date before they both saw sense and got to making like rabbits.

"See you in a couple of months."
"Yeah."
"I mean, Summerslam's both brands, isn't it?"
"I suppose."
Mark didn't sound too enthusiastic. "Listen, Mark, I mean, if you wanted ... I mean I certainly don't, but if you..."
"I don't." Mark kissed him, not madly, frantically, like the kisses that had got them into this mess, but softly. "Ever."

Of course, this was when Garrison came out of the bathroom. Mark leant into Randy and pretended to whisper. "He shoots, he scores, he interrupts again."
"Sorry I'll go back to the bathroom." Garrison had turned and was heading back.
"Don't worry about it. Randy was going."
"I'm going, I'm gone." Said Randy, who wasn't moving, despite what he was saying. He flashed Mark the 'call me' sign.
"Yes. I'll call you. Now go before we get Ric coming along to drag you out." Randy went this time.

Mark shut the door and sat down heavily on the bed.

Garrison wasn't certain if he ought to ask, but figured that he should. "Will Randy be okay?"
"Sure. And I notice you aren't worried about me?"
"Mark, you're tough as old boots, and anyway, if I can survive away from the little woman I think you can cope without having Randy with you all the time."

Mark's cellphone started to ring. Seeing the number he had to decide whether to answer it or to run and find Randy and hit him over the head with the phone. "Randy, it's two and a half minutes after you left the room. Why are you calling?"