His leg ached like a rotten tooth. It served as a constant reminder that no matter how hard he wished for it, his body was never going to be what it was before the injury. It was just one little thing after another. Each lingering pain seemed designed to remind him that even if he believed otherwise… he was, after all, still human. But he was going to be damned if he gave those Internet geniuses any more ammunition to use against him. So he had it wrapped tight, choked down enough Advil to numb a horse and went to the ring to do his job.

But none of that even mattered the second he saw the blood. At first, nothing more than a thin line smeared across his young partner's shoulder, that by no means appeared serious. That was until he raised his head. For a brief, heart stopping second, it was impossible to see exactly where the blood was coming from. It might have been his mouth or it might have been a cut to his face. But either way, Hunter forgot himself...if only for a moment.

He leaned over Randy's back as he struggled to stand up and looked closely. His hands resting against his shoulders...probably a bit too tenderly.

"I'm all right," the younger man mumbled, just loud enough for Hunter to hear.

So he stepped back. But it didn't stop him from taking worried glances at him every few seconds.

When Randy finally stood and allowed Hunter to raise his arm in victory, he breathed a sigh of relief. And at the same time he gave Bubba Ray Dudley the look of death as he made his way up the ramp.

And it wasn't the look of someone who was upset at a botched move. It was the look of a man protecting what was his. Although if anyone had pointed this out to Hunter they would have paid the price for being far too observant.

Once backstage, Hunter refused to let anyone near his own injured leg until they had seen to the young man he still held by the arm. There were those who smiled at his protectiveness towards his young protégé. And there were those...like Ric, who knew exactly what they were seeing.

Once back at the hotel, Hunter quietly and gently helped Randy into bed, placing an ice pack under his, now swollen jaw. "If you need anything… just let me know," he said as he turned off the bedside light. Randy responded with a lopsided smile as he let his eyelids flutter closed. Hunter automatically returned the smile, completely unaware that he had done it.

His anger had subsided somewhat. And as he gazed out the window he let his mind drift back to the evening's events and to the best form of punishment to dole out. Nothing too serious. Just a, not so gentle reminder, that the rules had been broken. Contemplating the delicious idea of sliding into bed next to his lover and simply enjoying the feel of his radiating warmth was becoming more tempting when a soft knock on the door snapped him back to reality.

Finding Ric on the other side, didn't exactly surprise him.

The older man, craned his neck to peer around Hunter's frame as it filled the doorway. "How's the kid. Is he ok?"

Hunter placed a quick finger over his lips to quiet the older man as he pushed him back into the hall, pulling the door closed behind him. "I don't want to wake him. He's fine," he replied almost gruffly. "Which is more than I can say for a certain Dudley."

"It was an accident man... you know that."

Hunter snorted in derision. "Accident, huh? Just like it was an accident all those months ago? Am I supposed to believe it was just a coincidence that it was Randy both times?"

"That's exactly what you're supposed to believe," Ric replied. "This is wrestling. People get hurt. It happens."

"Is that why you came by? To teach me the finer points of the business?"

It was pretty much the attitude Ric had expected to encounter.

"No... I wanted to make sure Randy was ok. And I wanted to check on you."

"We're both fine," he bit off.

A soft groan coming from behind the closed door, made him turn with a start. "I gotta go."

"Let him sleep," Ric admonished. "Why don't you come out with me and let off some steam? It'll be good for you."

Hunter turned back to him briefly . "No… I'm staying here... just in case." His eyes jumped back and forth furtively from Ric to the dim room behind him. And if Ric had any questions before...they were all answered now.

Shaking his head he stepped back. "Ok man. Whatever you say. But I gotta ask. What's come over you?"

The light in his eyes was teasing...playful. But Hunter was hardly in the mood to be humored. "I'm taking care of a friend," he shot back. "I'll talk to you in the morning."

The door closed with a muted thud and Ric let a sardonic grin appear on his lips. "Yeah… right. A friend."

Inside the room, Hunter walked back to Randy's side of the bed and turned on the light.

"Senile old coot," he muttered.

The young man was still shifting anxiously, so Hunter instinctively reached out a comforting hand and smoothed the skin of his forehead gently.

He wasn't sure of it was the shock of feeling his warmth or the soft moan of approval that made him yank his hand back as though he had been burned. Stepping back on unsteady legs, he blinked rapidly, shaking his head to clear it. The memory was vivid enough to have happened only yesterday.

It was another long, lean frame, barely covered by thin hotel sheets. Almost identical, soft moans of pain. Another dark head to be stroked and soothed. And his heartbeat quickened exactly the same way at the feel of him beneath his trembling fingers.

"No...it isn't the same," Hunter whispered to the night air. "This is Randy.....it isn't...."

And even though it was nothing but a memory, Hunter bit his tongue, refusing to let the other man's name cross his lips.

He had done everything in his power to keep things as superficial as possible. They were having some fun together... nothing more. Hell, in this business, the future could consist of ten years...or ten minutes. Everybody knew that....didn't they?"

Without realizing it, he had backed across the room until he bumped painfully into the dresser behind him. Turning swiftly, he gripped the worn out edge with both hands to steady himself. "He's a good friend....someone to keep me company....someone to fill the lonely hours. Nothing more."

He repeated the phrases over and over in his mind like a mantra. But once hen looked up and saw the reflection of his young lover once more lying peacefully in slumber behind him...he knew. He could try and convince himself until he was blue in the face. But Flair was right. Something had come over him.

And for the second time that evening, he spoke aloud. Only the four walls bearing testament to his anguished realization of the truth.

"Oh shit."

Read Story #4 The Heart Does Grow Fonder in the Game Plan Series