Just Ribbing (Unless...?)

"You’re supposed to *pretend*, Dennis!"

Knowing that Bobby Eaton's former trainer, Tojo Yamamoto was around backstage wasn't something that happened every day. It had recently been learned -- or maybe even just rumored -- that Tojo was rather homophobic. Some wrestlers were still cool with him regardless, but The Midnight Express -- Dennis Condrey, Bobby Eaton, and their manager, Jim Cornette -- were thinking of ways they could rib him over this.

Condrey leaned in and whispered something to Cornette.

"Hang on, are you seriously suggesting that?" The loud, tennis racket wielding manager was blushing a dark shade of crimson in disbelief.

"Whoa, easy there, Jimmy, you're redder than a cardinal in a cornfield," commented Condrey, his dry wit peeking through. He took a swig from the water bottle as he leaned against the locker room wall, his sharp eyes never leaving Cornette's flustered face.

"Shut up," grumbled Cornette, adjusting his flashy suit. True to his confrontational demeanor, he was never one to back down, especially not when faced with an utterly unexpected proposition. He blew out a puff of air and shifted his tennis racket to the other hand. "Tell me again, Dennis. You want me to act like I'm gonna..." he couldn't even bring himself to say it.

Condrey laughed at his manager's hesitance. "Yeah. I want you on your knees, acting like you're gonna suck me off. I'll have my tights down, making it look more... natural. Tojo ain't gonna know what hit him."

Cornette choked on the thin air of the locker room, his face reddening further at the audacity of Condrey's plan. "Dennis, I swear to God, if I didn't know you better, I'd think you were high!"

But Condrey merely shrugged, adjusting his tights with a nonchalant air. "Nah, just practical. Trust me," he said, his voice smooth and confident, "The look on Tojo's face will be worth it."

"Well, what if Tojo goes off?" Cornette asked, his tone laced with doubt. Condrey, however, appeared unfazed by this fact.

"Why, we'll just have to handle it then, won't we?" Condrey replied with a sneer, rolling his broad shoulders nonchalantly. "Besides, Eaton'll be there, too. Tojo ain't gonna start anything in front of one of his prized students."

Cornette paused, considering his friend's words. He adjusted his glasses and gripped the handle of his tennis racket, rolling it between his fingers. A mixture of fear and anticipation coursed through him, but there was a subtle spark in his eyes, a flicker of mad excitement at the idea of pulling off the audacious prank.

“Alright,” he finally said, his voice resigned but steady. “I'll do it. But you owe me for this one, Dennis.”

A wide grin spread across Condrey's rugged face. “That’s the spirit, Jimmy!”

The plan was set into motion as they heard Tojo’s footsteps coming toward the locker room. Condrey stood there, motioning for Cornette to get in position in front of him.

The flashy manager sighed, setting down his tennis racket, before getting on his knees in front of Condrey. He couldn’t believe he was really doing this…

Condrey pulled down his tights. “Remember,” he said quietly, “Make it look real, we need to really get Tojo pissed.”

Cornette nodded, feigning reluctance but secretly reveling in the thrill of the prank. He understood the stakes and he knew he could sell it.

As the locker room door creaked open, uncertainty filled the air. The distinct sound of Tojo's voice could be heard, a signal of his arrival.

However, things took a turn when Condrey grabbed Cornette and actually shoved his mouth down on him. Cornette’s eyes widened, they were only supposed to be pretending, weren’t they?? Choking back surprise, his bewildered eyes met Condrey's cool gaze as he wondered what the hell was happening now.

The look in Condrey's eyes was as unreadable as ever, his smirk only widened at Cornette's shock. “I decided it would be more believable if I stuck it in… you don’t mind, do ya?”

The locker room door swung open fully, and Tojo Yamamoto appeared in the doorway, frozen in shock. “What in the hell...” he stammered, his eyes wide as saucepans.

Cornette's face was a picture of shock and indignation — well, as much as it could be with his lips wrapped around Condrey’s cock. He was no stranger to Condrey's audacious antics, but this... this was something else entirely!

With Cornette still reeling in disbelief, Condrey winked at the bewildered Tojo. "Oh, didn't see you there, Yamamoto," he said casually, as if the scene playing out in front of them was nothing out of the ordinary, as he gently rocked his hips into his manager’s mouth. "Just getting a little pre-show warmup, you know?"

Tojo sputtered, "You... You... I can't believe..." His face turned a deep shade of purple as he stormed out of the locker room, slamming the door behind him.

Cornette gagged, pulling away quickly from Condrey's grip and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. As he straightened his suit, he glared at Condrey. "What the hell was that about, Dennis?" He asked, his face flushed.

Condrey just shrugged. "I told you to sell it, Cornette," he said nonchalantly. "And we got the reaction we wanted.”

Cornette was silent for a moment, processing what had just happened. His gaze shifted from Condrey to the slammed door where Tojo had disappeared. The audacity of Condrey's prank was unfathomable, even for him! A bewildered laugh escaped his lips. "Yeah... I guess we did." Part of him though… he couldn’t deny he enjoyed it.

Condrey's chuckle was low and rumbled in his chest. “You okay, Cornette?” he asked.

“Okay? I'm pretty damn far from okay right now, Dennis,” Cornette retorted, though his voice held more exasperation than anger. He couldn’t move from being on his knees in front of Condrey… the blood was rushing to other places at that moment, the whole situation made worse by the fact Condrey hadn’t made a move to pull up his tights.

Condrey’s smirk turned into a full-blown grin. "Easy there," he chided, "No need to get your feathers all ruffled." He looked down at the still-kneeling Cornette, his dark hair disheveled and glasses skewed. Condrey's eyes twinkled with a mischievous light as he leaned down, mischief dancing in his eyes. “Why, Jimmy,” Condrey cooed. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re enjoying our little prank.” His voice was thick with amusement. “Don’t tell me you've got a taste for it now.”

That just made Cornette blush deeper. He was… he didn’t understand why, but he was enjoying it… he wanted… more…

“Shut up, Dennis,” Cornette grumbled, but he didn’t move from his spot. His heart was pounding in his chest and he could feel a heat rising up on his cheeks that wasn’t embarrassment. He'd never imagined something like this could happen, and yet here he was, yearning for more... yearning for Condrey.

Condrey simply laughed, the sound deep and rich. He bent down, his hand reaching out to gently adjust Cornette's skewed glasses back in place. "Oh, I see how it is," he said, his voice laced with a rich, teasing tone, as he gently pushed Cornette’s mouth back down on him. "Don't worry, Jimmy. Your secret's safe with me." he said, running his fingers through Cornette’s hair as he moved a little.

Cornette, with his hands momentarily steadying himself on Condrey's strong thighs, looked up at him. His gaze was drawn to the other man's hypnotic eyes, holding a glint of mischief and sly satisfaction.

"You better make it count, Jimmy," he drawled in that sarcastic tone that Cornette was all too familiar with, encouraging him to continue where he had left off. "Wouldn't want to give Tojo any reason to think we were just pulling his leg."

Cornette straightened his suit jacket and took a deep breath before plunging back into uncharted territory. His tongue swirled against the tip, feeling Condrey jerk in his hand.

Condrey let out a low grunt of approval, his hand tightening involuntarily in Cornette’s hair. "That's it, Jimmy. Show him we mean business.”

Cornette's response was muffled, hardly louder than a whisper against Condrey's skin. His heart pounded in his chest, a rhythm only matched by the echoing thrill that danced in his veins. He had never imagined himself here, with Condrey of all people. Yet, as he looked up at the muscled wrestler above him, he couldn't deny the strange sense of... satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Condrey reveled in the sensation, his smirk widening into a lustful grin as he watched Cornette. The sight was enough to push any remaining doubts from his mind. This scheme, this audacious prank... it had a taste of danger and thrill that he found utterly intoxicating.

"Damn, Jimmy," he drawled out, watching as Cornette's eyes met his. There was a gleam in them – fear, excitement...desire? It was hard to tell but Condrey found himself not caring. "You're exceeding my expectations."

Cornette didn't respond, his mouth otherwise engaged, but his eyes held Condrey's gaze with an intensity that spoke volumes. He could feel Condrey pulsing in his grip, trembling faintly under his hands.

"Don't stop," Condrey commanded breathlessly, a hand gently stroking through Cornette's hair. He leaned back, resting against the lockers as he watched the scene play out in front of him. The sight of Cornette on his knees, the sharp taste of danger and exhilaration… It was more than he'd bargained for, but he certainly wasn't complaining.

Cornette pressed onward, his movements growing more confident and assured. The sensations were foreign, yet strangely natural. He was lost in the rhythm, the intoxicating blend of fear and excitement, the thrill of discovery.

Condrey's grip on Cornette’s hair tightened as a soft groan slipped past his lips. His breathing grew erratic as he fought to keep himself together under Cornette's ministrations. "You're --" he began, his voice husky and ragged, "You're doing good Jimmy."

A flush of pride warmed Cornette's cheeks at Condrey’s praise. He was out of his depth and he knew it, but hearing that somehow... he was doing well? It sent a shiver of triumph through him. Squaring his shoulders, Cornette redoubled his efforts, the muffled noises escaping him only serving to spur Condrey on further.

"Yes," Condrey hissed through clenched teeth, muscles straining as he fought the urge to close his eyes, choosing instead to watch Cornette's every move. "Just like that."

The door creaked open once again, this time to reveal a flustered Bobby Eaton, who looked between Condrey and Cornette with wide eyes. He was stunned at the sight. Cornette didn’t even stop, just continuing to do what he was doing.

"Dennis...? Jim?" Eaton stammered, confusion and disbelief written all over his face. His eyes darted to Cornette who was still busy between Condrey's legs, then back to Condrey who was leaning back and watching in what seemed like pleasure.

"Hell, Bobby," Condrey drawled out, not bothering to hide his satisfaction. "Didn't really expect you to be back so soon."

Eaton blinked in response, looking as if he was trying to comprehend what he was seeing. His gaze then moved slowly down to where Cornette was still enthusiastically working, then cleared his throat awkwardly.

"I... I just... I mean..." he stuttered, unable to fully form a sentence. His fair face reddened considerably; a stark contrast against his blond curls.

Condrey, on the contrary, looked like he was having the time of his life. He straightened up from his slouched position, smirking at Eaton. “Well, Bobby boy,” he said, a wicked glint in his eyes. “Didn’t think we’d be up to… this… did ya?”

Eaton could only stutter out a weak, "No... I... I didn't..."

"Atta boy," Condrey continued nonchalantly, as if he was discussing the weather instead of getting serviced by their manager. "You're always so surprised, it's charming."

He reached down, absently threading his fingers through Cornette's hair, eliciting a low hum of pleasure from the man. Eaton watched in stunned silence as they continued, his mouth agape.

Cornette, his gaze never straying from Condrey's, blinked up at Eaton before returning to his task. The room was filled with silence, save for the gentle hum of pleasure that vibrated against Condrey's thighs.

Eaton was left standing frozen in the doorway, a stricken look on his handsome face. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide, the color of his cheeks deepening.

"Pull up a seat," Condrey suggested, patting the vacant chair beside him without breaking eye contact with Cornette. "Or grab the popcorn... whichever you prefer."

With great effort, Eaton managed to tear his gaze away from the scene unfolding before him. He staggered towards the chair Condrey was indicating, his mind foggy with uncertainty. He had seen Cornette and Condrey in many situations, due to their penchant for pranks, but this... this was something else entirely.

His hands shook slightly as he lowered himself onto the chair, his gaze darting between Condrey's satisfied smirk and Cornette's focused attention on his partner.

Condrey spurred Cornette into action again as he chuckled at Eaton's reaction. "Enjoy the show, Bobby," he muttered throatily, his hand once more claiming a firm grip on Cornette's hair. Cornette moved with renewed vigor, a flicker of defiance in his eyes as he glanced up at Condrey.

Meanwhile, Eaton sat rigidly, unsure of how to react. His gaze flitted between the two men, his mind struggling to comprehend the situation. He felt like he should leave, give them privacy, but somehow he found himself rooted to the spot.

The room grew hotter, the air thick with tension. Eaton fumbled awkwardly with his hands, unsure where to look. His gaze landed on Condrey's face again, and was met with a challenging smirk.

"See something you like?" Condrey taunted, his voice a low rumble that dripped with excitement and audacity. His attention returned to Cornette, a soft sigh slipping from his lips as he closed his eyes, basking in the sensations the manager was making him feel.

Eaton didn't answer, instead swallowing hard and looking away, trying to gather himself. His heart pounded, echoing loudly in his ears. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a cascade of thoughts bouncing around inside his head like pinballs.

Meanwhile, Cornette continued to work diligently, completely unbothered by Eaton's shocked presence as he serviced Condrey. His glasses had begun to fog up but it didn't deter his focus. His eyes were now closed, his face a picture of concentrated pleasure. Eaton couldn't help but watch, transfixed by the sight.

From outside the room, a burst of laughter and the hustle bustle of their peers could be heard. But in here, it was like time had stilled. All that existed were Condrey's satisfied sounds, the soft hum of Cornette's pleasure, and Eaton's wide-eyed bewilderment.

"Just relax, Bobby," Condrey drawled out after a while. "Ain't like you've never seen two guys going at it before."

"But... not you two," Eaton blurted out. “I… didn’t think either of you were into that…”

Condrey chuckled, a deep rumble that made Eaton's exposed skin tingle in response. “Hey, a guy has needs. Doesn’t matter who satisfies them.”

"And besides," Condrey added, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he glanced towards Cornette, "Our Jimmy here ain't half bad."

Eaton gawked at them, his mind reeling from the revelation. He'd always known that Condrey was a bold man who enjoyed pushing boundaries, but this...this was beyond anything he had ever imagined.

The room was heavy with silence again, the only sound being the rhythmic rustle of clothing and Condrey's occasional grunt of approval. Eaton continued to sit in stunned silence, his mind a whirlwind of emotions. He felt an odd mixture of shock, confusion, and...curiosity? He shook his head as if to clear it, his eyes still unable to tear away from the intimate scene before him.

Condrey glanced over at Eaton, a hint of amusement flickering across his rugged face as he noticed the younger man's discomfort. "What's the matter Bobby boy?" he drawled leisurely. "Cat got your tongue?"

Eaton opened his mouth, only to close it again, his cheeks flushing a deeper red. Condrey's smirk grew wider, his eyes sparkling with amusement as he watched his partner squirm.

Cornette, too engrossed in his task to even notice the awkwardness Eaton was experiencing, kept his focus on Condrey. He was enjoying this, it was obvious.

Condrey's hand fell from Cornette's hair, reaching out to grasp Eaton's rigid arm. His grip was firm but not overly so, a simple reminder of his presence and perhaps a reassurance. "Breathe, Bobby," he commanded, his voice dipping lower, the tone soothing despite its authoritative edge.

Eaton swallowed hard at the touch, his eyes darting to where Condrey held him. After a moment, he managed a shaky nod, taking a deep breath as instructed. The room seemed to shrink around them, time slowing to a crawl as everything else faded into the background.

It felt like hours, yet only a few minutes had passed. Eaton's heart hammered in his ears as he watched the scene before him unfold, his disbelief mingling with an inexplicable tension that made his skin prickle uncomfortably.

Condrey looked entirely satisfied, a low chuckle rumbling through him at Cornette’s ardent attentions. He was getting closer with each passing second, his breaths growing more ragged and rushed.

Eaton's gaze shifted back to Condrey's face, his eyes wide and filled with an odd mixture of confusion and fascination. The sight of Condrey in such a state was... captivating, in the most unexpected of ways.

Cornette's hands and mouth worked diligently, his movements swift and practiced. There was an ease to the way he navigated Condrey's body, a familiarity that Eaton had never seen before. Eaton watched, his mouth dry as he tried to reconcile this new side of his partners with the men he thought he knew.

After what seemed like an eternity, Condrey's body stiffened, his breath hitching in his throat. A low, guttural moan rumbled from his chest as he reached his climax, his eyes closing tight and head thrown back in unabashed ecstasy.

Cornette didn’t stop until Condrey gently pushed him away, a satisfied smile spread across the rugged man’s weathered face. He ruffled Cornette's dark hair, laughing softly.

Eaton still sat, his normally expressive eyes wide and vacant in shock. He opened his mouth as if to speak but no words came out, so he closed it again. His mind was a whirlwind of confusion.

Cornette, meanwhile, was chuckling with satisfaction, wiping his hands and mouth, before adjusting his glasses. This was a first for him…

Condrey slung an arm around Cornette, pulling him close. “Now that was fun,” he said, a grin spreading across his face. Cornette didn’t say anything, but the pleased look on his face said enough.

Eaton, still in shock, managed to find his voice again. "I...I can't believe you two..." His words trailed off, leaving an awkward silence hanging in the room.

"Can't believe what?" Condrey asked, feigning innocence as he shot Eaton a sidelong glance. "That me and Jimmy here can get along just fine without any need for women?"

Cornette snorted at that, a red flush overtaking his cheeks as he shrugged off Condrey’s arm. "Don't make it sound so crude, Dennis," he chided, his voice edged with a hint of bashfulness.

Eaton pressed his lips together, avoiding their gazes. He wasn't sure how to respond, or if he even should. It wasn't his business, what Condrey and Cornette did behind closed doors. But the shock of it...

"Or are you just surprised that I'd choose Jimmy here over some ring rat?" Condrey continued, a glint in his deep-set eyes as he leaned back against the wall.

“No, I…” Eaton stuttered, his jaw clenching as he tried to put together the right words. “I just didn’t know. I mean, I never…”

Condrey laughed again, a deep, throaty sound that echoed around the room. “Didn’t think that sweet little Jimmy here could be so adventurous?” His teasing tone held an undercurrent of challenge as his gaze probed Eaton’s face.

Eaton swallowed hard, his eyes darting to Cornette before he gave a small nod. “Yeah,” he finally admitted, “that’s it.”

Cornette rolled his eyes at the pair, a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned against the wall on the opposite side of Condrey. "Well, believe it. I can be full of surprises."

Eaton blinked at him, his hands absentmindedly running through his curly blond hair. "I can see that," he muttered, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.