Disclaimer: Characters don't belong to me. They belong to WWF and Titan Sports. No copyright infringement intended.
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Chris was the first to recover. Gingerly he shifted his satisfied body beneath Rob's sated, relaxed one - its weight pressing down heavily on him as its owner lay completely immobile. Rob couldn't be too used to drinking so much - he'd practically passed out on him. But they couldn't stay here - somebody might be waiting for the elevator. Rob grunted as with some effort he found himself pushed off and over onto his back on the hard floor, but he didn't open his eyes. Kneeling beside the inert form, Chris sighed as he leaned over him, kissing the half open mouth. Rob's eyes flickered in the dimness as he half opened them, his muddled brain not engaging as he took in the long blond hair curtaining round him, murmuring "Christian?"

Jericho leant quickly back with a quick intake of breath

"No," he replied "I don't think so..."

Rob blinked twice, squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again as the blurry vision took sharper focus.

"Fuck ... sorry ... I didn't mean to ..."

Chris was already standing up pulling up his leather pants and zipping them closed.

"Never mind that" he spoke hurriedly. "Get dressed - we gotta get this elevator moving again before they haul us down manually ..."

Rob ran a weary arm across his tired eyes, feeling fuzzy as he hauled himself waveringly upright. Stumbling about he finally managed to get first one leg, then the other inside his jeans, zipping them up and fumbling ineptly at the button, oh fuck the button - no-one would notice that even if there were anyone around to see - not at this time of night.

Chris ran his hands through his hair, surveying Rob's almost decent state of dress.

"You ready?" he asked, hand hovering over the button to re-start. Rob grinned back, a wicked leer on his face; he was starting to feel a bit more normal again now. He lurched toward Chris as the elevator jerked back into action. Uncaring that it could stop and the doors open at any time, he entwined his arms round Chris's waist, one hand clamped firmly on his ass while he leaned in close to bite his neck.

"Oh yeah, baby, I sure am ready. You know who I am: I'm Rob - Van - Dam!"

"Yeah, right" Jericho gasped out "At least we know who you are ... maybe you might even remember who I am next time around. Come on! The elevator's stopping ..."

With effort Chris managed to disentangle himself from Rob's insistent hands, and by the time the doors opened on the 8^th floor each of them was positioned at opposite ends of the elevator, trying to look calmly sober in the exaggerated way drunk people do. It seemed nobody was there, when suddenly a tall dark figure stepped smartly round the corner and halted abruptly at the entrance - one black eyebrow arching skywards as he took in their disheveled appearance. The deep brown eyes roved over Jericho's hastily buttoned up wrongly shirt, scrutinized Rob's rumpled ponytail and traversed down his body where it was noted the top button of his jeans was unfastened, before slowly returning to stare closely at Rob's face. The eyebrow quirked downwards as its owner spoke in a melodious low voice. "Beware of escaping strudels!" And with that The Rock flung his nose in the air, jabbing at the first floor button. The Great One had spoken, dismissed them, and now the tousled pair had to step out smartly to avoid the closing of the door.

It was late and they'd expected to see nobody - so they weren't surprised to see the dimly illuminated corridor lonely and empty. Rob smirked as he placed a guiding hand round Chris's waist, propelling him in the direction of his room. "We'll take our time this time, babe," he whispered warmly in Jericho's ear as outside the door he pulled the blond's soft body against him. Chris snuggled up close, his soft lips mouthing kisses over Rob's neck while Rob fumbled with the card key. The door opened at last as Rob pushed Chris against the frame, returning his hot kisses and exploring his silky skin beneath the satin shirt. They were completely oblivious that they were no longer alone in the corridor, until they heard a sneering voice behind them.

"Well if it isn't Mr Pay Per Screw!" Edge leered. Although they'd never spoken openly about it, both men were aware that Christian had spent a night with Rob, though Edge had never been sure that nothing had happened.

Christian was hanging onto Edge's arm, his expression somewhere between startled, nervous and peeved. RVD released the panting Chris Jericho to turn and glare hotly at his nemesis. How he hated the blond with his insincere huge toothy grin - how he hated the way he used people, like Christian, just so he could play the Superior Being. He did not disguise those feelings now - why should he when Edge didn't bother to disguise his? Scornfully he ran his eyes up and down the tall blond. Getting up close to Edge, he spoke succinctly in his ear, the alcohol loosing his tongue to hint at the one thing Edge had always wondered about.

"Maybe - maybe not, but if you like playing with my name - how about this one -

"Mr All Fuckin' Night!"

RVD stepped back, watching in satisfaction as Edge's face changed from leering to unconcealed fury. Christian looked mortified, the color draining from his face. His eyes darting in a dilemma from RVD to Edge, who was now striding incensed down the corridor. Shooting a hurt look at Rob, he darted off after Edge, catching up with him round the corner. Rob and Jericho stood immobile, the loud roar of Edge's infuriated voice rooting them to the spot. They remained immobile until the blondes and their raised voices had totally disappeared. Then Rob exhaled an exhausted breath and gazed at Jericho, who was staring at him curiously. Rob offered a small, sheepish grin, took Chris' hand and gently pulled him through the door.

"We better see if I can live up to my new name then."

Jericho smiled slowly, gazing up at Rob seductively as he felt himself lowered back onto the bed. Lazily he threaded his arms round Rob's neck, pulling him down until their mouths were almost touching. Gently he put out his tongue, softly trailing it round Rob's mouth.

"Which one were you referring to? I got no money on me - so you'd need to take a check ..."

Rob laughed, enjoying Chris's flirtatiousness, and the taste of him as he pressed his warm lips against his.

"You won't need no money, sweetheart. I've never charged yet and I'm not about to start now ..."

Chris wriggled beneath him, the friction of his thighs rubbing against Rob's increasing his desire even more as he stole another kiss.

"I guess I'm with Mr All Fuckin' Night then ..." he drawled as Rob's hands were unfastening his shirt once more.

"Yeah," breathed Rob as he sucked a nipple, "Or at least, a good portion of it."

"Mmmmmmm......."

End Part 11