Orange turned his attention to Chuck's voice, even though he knew Chuck was busy with Trent. His eyes followed Chuck's gaze, landing on the monitor in the back, displaying the match that was going on.
Kip's match.
It took him a second to recognize it, but once Kip finished pulling the elbow pad on, he felt a heat bloom in his chest. The feeling only grew as the silver haired Brit pulled off the elbow pad and threw it to the ground, an empty parody of his own stance. He turned towards the screen fully as he watched Kip land his own version of his Orange Punch, pin his opponent, and sit up after the three shooting a thumbs up.
"Seriously?"
His gaze slid over to Trent, who was still bristling over the match. "Something you want to tell us, Cass?" Trent's dark eyes burned into Orange's chest as he stood, taking a strong step forward.
"What?" He tried to keep his voice level and nonchalant, despite the white hot emotion roiling in his chest.
"Don't 'what' me, Cass," Trent spat, stopping just barely toe to toe with Orange. "First our match, now this?" He threw a hand towards the screen as Kip and Penelope posed in the ring. "What's up with you two?"
Orange sighed, hands taking up their place in his pockets. "There's nothing up," he said, holding Trent's gaze levelly. "He wants my belt, and he's doing everything he can to get in my head." His eyes flicked quickly over to Chuck, hovering between them to try and keep the peace, and back. "And I know damn well you'd be pissed if I went easy on you."
Trent's eyebrows knitted together skeptically, then shrugged. "Yeah, you're right." Out of the corner of his vision, Orange saw Chuck visibly relax. "He's just been really weird about you lately."
"That's a word for it," Orange mumbled as Chuck and Trent walked back to catering, trying to convince himself that he told Trent the truth, despite the heat in his stomach.
—
Orange slammed the door to his locker room, the doorframe rattling with the force. He took a deep breath, trying to get his adrenaline to subside. He knew Chuck and Trent would be gone already, as much as he appreciated the assist. Things had been…strained with them this past week, because he'd been in Orange's head.
Kip. Fucking. Sabian.
Even just thinking his name made Orange's blood run white-hot, and he threw the backpack onto the couch in annoyance. His stomach swirled with emotions. He wanted to hit Kip, make him bleed, make him hurt, make him-
A knock cut through the roiling haze of Orange's mind, two sharp raps at the door behind him. Confused, Orange turned back to face the door, hand resting gently on the knob. The only people that might want to see him after the match were gone, so who could this possibly be?
After the knocking came again, his first thought was Tony. He sighed, recalling how he pushed the referee during the match. Hoping he wasn't going to be fined too heavily, the apology died on his tongue as he opened the door.
"About time, my sweet Clementine."
Looking into the hazel eyes that had taunted him for weeks, Orange's hands clenched into fists unconsciously. "Coming to beg for another shot?"
Kip smirked, huffing out a small laugh as he puffed his chest out slightly. “Oh hardly,” he chided, his accent lilting slightly. “And don’t be like that,” he quipped as he pushed his way into Orange’s room
Orange looked him over appraisingly, noting that Kip was now wearing dark jeans and a gray tee shirt. “Can I help you?” That unbothered tone giving way to slight annoyance. “Shouldn’t you be off in your hotel room, having Penelope lick your wounds?”
Kip turned and looked back at Orange, a wicked smirk on his face. "And what of you, my boy? Shouldn't Chuck and Trent be giving you a victory party?" He winked and made an obscene gesture.
Orange rolled his eyes and huffed. "Even if that was a thing," he said pointedly, "which it's not, things are rough with us."
Kip bat his eyelashes in mock innocence. "Oh dear," he said, his voice saccharine as he stepped towards Orange. "Did I do that, little Clementine?"
Orange bristled. "The door's right here," he said, gesturing to it.
"Hmm, yes," Kip said, "I suppose I've overstayed my welcome. Very well." With a quickness, Kip planted a small peck on Orange's cheek. "Until next time, old boy."
That was it.
Orange pushed the door shut in Kip's face. "Care to try again?" His normally cool detached voice took on a deeper tone, and it made the pit of Kip's stomach quake.
"B-beg pardon?" Kip asked, turning back towards Orange, who had managed to get incredibly close.
"That's right," Orange said, putting his other hand on the door, effectively trapping Kip between his arms. "Beg."
Kip flushed, mouth hanging open in stunned silence. "I…I…"
"What's wrong?" Orange asked, leaning towards Kip. "You were all talk before." His face was now a hair's breadth away from Kip. "Do something," he challenged.
Kip's heart raced slightly as he looked Orange in those stormy blue eyes. Letting out a shaky breath, he leaned in and pressed his lips to Orange's, waiting to be pushed back as he shut his eyes.
Orange blinked, stunned at Kip's sudden movement. The Brit's lips on his were soft, and Orange found himself relaxing into the kiss before pushing for dominance. One hand fisted Kip's hair as he pushed him back into the door.
Kip gasped into the kiss, and Orange took that opportunity to slip his tongue inside Kip's mouth. Kip melted into the kiss, and he found his hands instinctively going to Orange's chest. He'd touched him before, but there was a different feeling this time. He could feel the warmth radiating from Orange's toned chest, and his fingers danced along his pecs.
Using his free hand, Orange grabbed Kip's wrists and pinned them above his head, breaking the kiss momentarily. "Well?" His voice was husky as he released Kip's hair, still pinning his wrists.
"Fuck, Clementine," Kip breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Are you asking?" Orange said teasingly, hooking his thumb into his pants pocket, pulling on it slightly to expose the flesh of his hip bone peeking out above his waistband.
Kip, for the first time, found himself speechless. There was no way, the blonde had to be joking.
Right?
"I…I…" Kip stammered, his wrists still pinned above his head. His heart raced, and he felt his face grow hot.
Orange smirked and released Kip's wrists. "Nah," he said, his unbothered tone returning. "You haven't earned it yet." He pulled the door open, and the stunned Brit walked out. "Oh, and Kip?"
Kip turned back to look at Orange, his throat dry. "Y-yes?"
Orange winked. "Maybe next time. Try a little harder."
Kip flushed at the remark, and Orange just pulled the door shut with a confident smirk.
Most people wouldn't expect that from the strawberry blonde above you, but very few people got to see this passionate side of Orange Cassidy.
Which is why you cherished these moments.
"God, I love you." His thrusts were long and slow, drawing out pleasure for both of you as his fingers intwined with yours, trapping your lips with a kiss like the world would end. Moaning into your mouth, he was determined to have you feel every inch of his love for you.
