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Needful XV:  The Lost Art of Conversation
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 The three former members of DX - X-Pac, Road 
Dogg and Bad Ass Billy Gunn - had been damn near 
stunned when Hunter had approached them that week, 
as close to 'humble' as the Greenwich native ever 
got.  After being dumped, divided and duped, the 
last thing anyone had expected was for the mighty 
Triple H to return - tail tucked between legs -
asking for forgiveness.  Asking in a way, of 
course, that implied denial would not be taken 
lightly.

 Backstage, Shane McMahon watched the four 
wrestlers celebrate, his elbows resting on his 
knees, and his fists clenched tightly between them.  

 "I can't fucking believe this," he muttered 
in disbelief, "Tell me this isn't happening."

 But as the show went off the air and the last
of the fire-works exploded, Shane realized that 
this very much WAS happening, and that there wasn't 
a damn thing he could do about it.

 What was Hunter thinking?  Shane knew for a 
fact that his former lover didn't give a damn about 
DX, and there was no reason for his sudden change of 
heart now - except unless he planned on using them 
to get the Championship, where shortly thereafter he 
would just dump them on their ass again.  He wouldn't 
put such a plan past the new and improved Hunter 
Hearst Helmsley, it was just like him.  Not to 
mention a stupid, and dangerous thing to do to a 
group like DX.

 Not that Shane cared.

 Kicking the OFF switch on the monitor with the 
toe of his shoe, he sat back with a bad taste in his 
mouth and a sinking feeling in his gut.  The last 
thing he needed was DX back together - stronger, 
meaner - and with chips on their shoulders.

 Well, at least they could go back to selling the 
t-shirts.





 "Whoo hoo, we are BACK, baby!" Billy cried, throwing 
a beer up in the air and causing a white, foamy spray to 
drench his tag team partner.  "Ain't no stoppin' us now!"

 X-Pac laughed and threw each arm over a degenerate's 
shoulder, glad to be back with the only group in which he 
had ever felt he belonged.  A group, which just up to a 
month ago, he could of sworn was permanently split up, (due 
to a certain spoiled brat.)  He swore to himself that he 
would teach Shane a harder lesson then Wrestlemania if he 
so much as looked at any of them the wrong way again.  

 "Hey, where's Chyna?" Jesse asked, in high spirits 
once again after what had been for him a lousey week.  "This 
party ain't complete without her."  He snickered at the 
memory of Austin stripping her of her bra on RAW the week
before and how justified he had thought it had been.  But 
now that DX was back together he was feeling generous, and 
couldn't help but think that the group was incomplete 
without her.

 Hunter shrugged from his spot on the couch, "Off 
chasing Intercontinental Gold, I figures.  She's taking a 
break from DX for a while, guys.  So it looks like, for now, 
we're a Boys Club."

 "No way!  We still got Ass!" Road Dogg snickered and 
threw a teasing air kiss Billy's way.

 As the two team-mates broke out into a spontaneous
wrestling match, X-Pac came to sit next to Hunter and put a
beer to his knee which was gratefully accepted.  "Man, this 
is just the beginning.  RAW out there tonight...they ain't 
seen nothing yet," X-Pac swore.

 Hunter nodded vaguely, his thoughts split between the
belt and Shane.  He knew that the young McMahon would not 
like what had happened tonight, would even see it as a sort 
of personal attack.  He grunted and knocked back the beer, 
spilling most of it down his bare chest.  Well so what if 
Shane didn't like it, he thought.  Shane could go fuck 
himself, the little bastard.

 "Hunter, man, you a'right?"

 Hunter reached for another beer, and ignored the 
question.  It was time to get his priorities back on track,
he couldn't get the belt when he was so preoccupied with
Shane McMahon and Steve Austin.  DX would help him focus,
help him take back what was rightfully his from the 
Rattlesnake.

 




 "So what do you think?  Think I should tell him?"
Joey looked uneasily around the room, trying to read the
faces of his friends.  "I mean, this is some pretty 
serious shit right?"

 Rodney shook his head and scratched absently at the
mop of vibrant blonde hair on his head.  "Dude, I don't 
get why you didn't tell him sooner.  Now's a pretty hairy
time to bring it up, you know?  I mean, Shane's with Austin
now and ... "

 "And I don't want to risk that, I know," Joey nodded.
"But I've been holding it in so for so long and only 
recently have I really gotten comfortable enough to even 
_consider_ telling him."  Sighing, he fell back blindly 
onto the couch.  "He _should_ know."

 "Should he?" Pete shrugged, "Like, if he doesn't
know by now, maybe he's not meant to Abbs."

 "What, suddenly you're getting all philosophical on
me Gas?  Come on, man."

 "I don't think you should tell him," Rodney said
finally.  "Obviously if you didn't tell him _before_ you
don't think it's that important."

 "It wasn't then, it could be now.  I mean, it could
change EVERYTHING.  Shane's getting ready to get all heavy
with Austin, and what if he wouldn't be if he knew..." 
Joey's voice trailed off and he shook his head in 
frustration, bounded back up from the couch and headed for 
the door.  "That's it, I can't take it anymore, I gotta 
tell him.  The guilt is KILLING me."

 The two other posse members exchanged looks, Rodney
shifted awkwardly in his seat and picked at his khaki 
pants.  "You might make things worse," he warned.  "It'll
complicate things all to hell."

 "I don't care," Joey snapped.  "Fuck this shit, I'm
outta here."  The door closed behind him and Pete slumped
back in his seat.

 "Well..." he raised his beer can in salute which
Rodney returned out of interest to hear what his friend
would say.  "It looks like the shit's about to hit the
fan."
 






 "You're not worried?"

 "Should I be?"

 From his spot on the bed, Shane closed his eyes and
rubbed his temples sorely, "I am," he admitted.  "DX back
together can't be good for you, Steve."  He stared up at
the ceiling and blinked slowly, "For any of us, really."

 "Don't worry about me," Austin tilted his head to 
the side to match the angle of Shane's on the bed and
smiled when the heir apparent did.  "There's something 
else."

 "Perceptive."

 "Nah," Austin walked over and sat down next to the
younger man, put a careful, testing-the-waters hand on 
his stomach.  He stared at it silently for a moment, 
watching as his fingers moved pale over the black material 
of the other man's shirt.  Finally flicking his eyes up to 
meet Shane's slightly dulled ones, he gave a half shrug, 
"You got the tendency to wear your thoughts on your sleeves,
McMahon."  Austin let his hand move a little more, rubbing 
the slight swell of stomach under the fabric.  He sighed
inwardly in content at the feel, and leaned back a little
so that his upper half was draped over Shane's stomach.
 
 "Does it have to do with the two of you...before..."

 Shane halted, "Yes.  No.  Yes, shit - I don't know."
Tossing Steve an apologetic look he shrugged helplessly,
"The whole thing just sucks, you know?"

 "Hmm."
 
 Smiling now, Shane shifted slightly so that he was
closer to Steve, and leaned in to kiss him softly on the
lips.  "You've been understanding about the whole thing
with Hunter."  He kissed him again, a little longer and
Steve closed his eyes.  "Thank you for not ragging me 
about it."

 His lips parted with a slight wet sound and Steve
looked up at Shane with a surprisingly uncertain look 
in his eyes, and Shane felt a twinge of worry at the
expression.  "What?  What is it?"

 Austin shook his head once, "Look, Shane - there's
something I've been meanin' to tell you..."

 The seriousness of Austin's tone was not lost on 
him, and Shane's forehead creased slightly as he nodded
for him to continue.  But before he could, the knock at
the door interrupted them and Shane let out a grunt of
impatience as he pulled himself off the bed, and gently
out of Austin's grasp.  "God damn it!"

 The knock came twice more before Shane could get 
to the door and he unconsciously straightened his 
clothes even as he cursed out whoever it was silently.
Seeing who it was did not help matters.

 "What is it, man?" Shane demanded when he opened
the door to reveal Joey Abbs, shifting uneasily at the
threshold of the hotel room.  "This better be important."

 "It is," he nodded.  Then, looking past Shane he 
saw Austin sitting serenely on the bed, gazing at them 
with a raised eyebrow and blank expression, and paled.  
"Uh, can we talk outside for a moment?  It won't take 
long, I promise."

 His fingers jittered impatiently at his sides, 
but Shane finally relented and stepped out into the 
hall with his friend, closing the door behind him as
he did so.  "Okay, Abbs, what's so important that it
couldn't wait?"

 Still, Joey hesitated.  "It's something that I
should of told you a lot sooner.  Something that you 
might not want to hear right now, and something that 
I really don't think I should be talking to you about
like this," he gestured vaguely around them.  "It's
important."

 "Just spit it out, Abbs."  Now Shane really was
losing his patience and was in no mood to hide the fact.
"In case you haven't noticed, I'm kinda in the middle of
something."

 "Look, don't get mad at me, I'm here 'cause I'm
trying do good by you," Joey said, voice getting an
edge.  "How the hell was I suppose to you know you'd be
busy?"

 "I'm just tired of getting fucking interrupted
everytime I'm the middle of doing something important.
Look, just tell me why you came and then give me some
privacy, huh?"

 A disgusted look crossed Joey's face and he took
two steps back down the hallway, "Fuck you, Mac.  I'm
outta here."

 Shane watched him disappear around the corner
before his shoulders slumped and he ran a frustrated
hand through his hair, "_Damn it._  Abbs!"  He started 
to go after him but then stopped when he remembered 
Steve.  He'd have to apologize to Joey later.  But by 
then the posse member would of had time to _stew_.  

 As he stared dully down the hall, the expression 
of concern on his friend's face flashed through his mind
and he turned back to his room with a grunt.  "I am SUCH
an asshole," he muttered.



 

 "He's _brooding_ again."

 "He shouldn't do that, I heard it makes your
dick shrink or something."

 Jesse laughed and punched his tag team partner 
in the shoulder.  "That's bullshit and you know it!"

 "I know," Billy said, rubbing his arm and 
sticking out his tongue.  "I'm just sayin' if he 
keeps up this whole bitchin' and moanin' thing he's
going to have to change his name from Hunter to...
Huntetta or somethin'."

 "You're such an idiot."

 As the Outlaws continued to argue, Sean watched
as his friend of several years moped around the gym,
moving back and forth between the exercise equipment
with the look of a man who's mind was a thousand miles
away.  Sean was pretty sure he knew what Hunter was
thinking about it - that prick Shane McMahon.

 When they had first found out that Shane and 
Hunter were screwing, Sean had been the only one that
who had really been surprised.  The Outlaws seemed to 
take it into stride - joking with their leader about 
gay sex and sleeping his way to the top, and Chyna had 
been simply Chyna.  Cool, serene, and infinitely 
cerebral.  She loved Hunter, and seemed happy that he 
was happy.

 At first, Sean had been uncomfortable and 
suspicious.  Even a little angry.  But in time had 
come to see Chyna's way of looking at it.  At least, 
at some basic level he had.  Sure, he wasn't entirely 
thrilled about Hunter fucking Shane, but there was
no use complaining about stuff he couldn't change.  
If Hunter wanted to experiment, that was fine.  Sean
was sure it was a phase that his friend would get 
over - with the help of DX and the WWF belt.  But  
Shane had corrupted him, had made him turn on his 
friends, and had used him to get back at Steve Austin.

 Steve Austin.  Sean snorted, apparently Shane
was letting Austin fuck him now, too.  The asshole 
really was a cheap whore who had no morals.  First he
broke up DX, then he shit all over Hunter, and now he 
was moving onto Steve Austin.  Sean was sick of it.  
And he was sick of watching his friend suffer through 
it all.

 Lost in thought himself, Sean continued to
watch Hunter as he finally settled into a bench 
press and began a series of preps - although his face
never lost its distant edge.

 Shane's not going to ruin DX for me again, Sean
thought to himself, his jaw clenching hard enough to
grind teeth.  He's _not_.

 "Uh oh, I think we've lost Sean, too."

 "Check his dick, is it shrinking?"

 

 

 Shane closed the door behind him as he re-entered
the hotel room and fell back against it with a light
thud and sigh of upheaval.

 "What's up?" Austin asked, casting a speculative
look the younger man's way.  "You look like you just
drank a beer can full of piss."

 Squinching at the visual, Shane just shook his
head and crossed the room to stand over the other man.
"Steve, am I complete asshole?"

 "You're asking the wrong person."  Austin smirked
and reached out to grab Shane by the hips and pull him
down onto his lap, producing a surprised yelp from the
younger man.  "But to answer your question...no.  At 
least, not _this_ you.  The other you I know, hell yeah
he is."

 While still trying to get over the surprise of a
'frisky' Rattlesnake, Shane shifted so that he was 
straddling Steve's lap, with knees planted firmly on 
either side of his hips - pinning him to the mattress.
"I got news for you, Steve, they're _all_ me."  He 
hesitated, and then asked the question that had been
plaguing him ever since this whole thing had began.  
"What makes you think you can trust me now?"

 Austin shrugged, idly playing with the buttons 
of Shane's shirt.  "I don't _think_ much of anything.
I always act first.  And now I'm just going by 
instincts."  A flash of colour briefly heated Austin's
cheeks and he ducked his head to hide his face.  "I
don't know _why_, just - I trust you so let it go, 
all right?"

 Smiling, Shane just nodded and bent down to kiss
him, shuddering as he felt the other man's tongue taste 
the inside of his mouth.  "Okay."   
 
 For a moment, they remained silent, probing each 
other's mouths, and letting their hands wander aimlessly
over each other's bodies.  Eventually, though, it was 
Shane who broke the silence.

 "Oh, I'm sorry.  There was something you wanted 
to tell me?" Shane asked, latching his mouth unto the 
fluttering pulse of Austin's neck.

 A small gasp and Austin nodded, "Ye-ah, uh...I
can't quite seem to remember right now..."  He groaned
when Shane reached down between their bodies to rub his
quickly growing erection through the tightness of his
jeans, and his arms reached around to hold Shane 
tighter.  "Look, kid - "

 "Shane," he corrected quietly, his voice muffled
slightly by Austin's neck, "My name's Shane."

 "I think...aw hell, stop that or I won't be able
to put two words together," Austin whined, a slightly 
silly look on his face.  He pulled Shane back, and 
looked into a pair of lust-filled brown eyes with a 
smile.  "Actually, I've been trying to tell you for a 
while now, but I guess...shit, this is hard for me to
say..." Austin's voice trailed off and he looked away
in embarrassment, prompting Shane to tug his chin around
so that he was looking at him again.

 "What?" Shane offered a reassuring look.  "Steve,
whatever it is you want to tell me, I can handle it,
really."

 "I think...that, well...I think I love you."

 It was all Shane could do not to fall off the bed,
and as it was his mouth dropped open in surprise and his
eyes widened.  "W-what?"

 At Shane's shocked look, Austin's words came out 
in a great, panicked rush.  "I think it started a coupla 
years ago during the whole Survivor Series thing, that's 
why I was so pissed off with you when it turned out to be 
nothin' but a swerve.  Then you came onto me in the bar
and _that_ got me mad too because I thought you were
just treatin' me like some big motherfuckin' _joke_, and
after that...well, things just got all confusin' and it 
pissed me off even _more_, until finally I just gave in
and all this other shit happened and it turned out that I
DO still have fucking feeling towards you which really 
bugs the shit out of because I don't get 'em, and I know
you don't feel the same way and I wish you'd stop just
_starin'_ and actually SAY something."  Austin let out a
woosh of breath and slumped back, spent and exhausted.  
He waited anxiously for a response.

 _Loved him_?  Austin _loved him_?  Shane couldn't
believe it.  Where had this come from?  How had it 
happened?  Shane sputtered for a reply, unsure at all 
what to say.  _This_ was what had started out as a one
night stand?  Shane gaped and ran a tense hand through 
his hair, opened his mouth to speak and felt horrified
at what came out.  "Uhhhh..."

 "Shit!" Austin bolted up and Shane fell back with
a grunt to the floor as his ass impacted with the carpet.
"I _knew_ I shouldn't of said anything!"

 "Hey, no - wait!"  But Austin wasn't listening.
Grabbing his jacket off a nearby chair, the wrestler
retreated to the door.  "Steve!"

 "I'm leaving," Austin snapped, and walked out, 
slamming the door behind him and leaving Shane to stare
after him.

 He fell back onto the carpet and stared morosely
up at the ceiling.  What was it about him that made
people run like hell everytime they said something
significant to him?  "I am SUCH an asshole."




 "He is _such_ an asshole!"

 Rodney and Pete watched as their friend paced
the dressing room in long, angry strides, his arms 
gesturing widely in the way they did when he was upset.  

 "I take it didn't go well?" Pete asked, pointing
out the obvious.

 "Gee Gas, ya think?" Joey kicked angrily at 
nothing and glared at his two friends.  "I go down there
to do him a _favor_ and he gets all _assholey_ on me.  
Sometimes I wonder why we're such good friends, he's 
such a selfish prick."

 Looking up from the open mouth of a camcorder,
its wires and inner mechanics exposed in a mess of 
electronic static, Rodney cast Joey a speculative look.
"Come on, Joe - you know Shane must of had his reasons."

 "He's still a prick."

 "We're all pricks," Rodney said with a dry chuckle,
bending back down over the piece of equipment.  "And
we've never held it against each other before.  Shane's
been stressin' a little lately.  You know he'll come 
around."

 Joey grunted vaguely, neither agreeing or
disagreeing and walked over to where the blonde posse
member sat.  "Yeah, whatever.  How's it going anyhow?"

 Pete smirked, "Perfectly, bro, perfectly.  China
wants to up the ante on our little war?  She don't know
what she's getting into!"	

 "Yup." Rodney snapped the lid back down on the
camcorder then walked over to the VCR where he plugged
it into a jack coming out of the back.  He hit play and
the three men watched as the screen blared to life in a
mess of static and snow.  But soon, it cleared and a 
picture emerged, causing the room to erupt into a series
of cheers and hoots.

 The three punched fists enthusiastically and broke into
fits of childish laughter at the promise of retaliation.	




 Sitting alone in the bar, staring down into the
small shot glass of tequila in front of him, Steve 
Austin made a face of self-disgust.  He had made a 
complete fool of himself, and for the life of him he
didn't know what had possessed him to do it.  All his
life he had kept his feelings to himself, being extra
careful not to let them show through.

 Emotions, his father had taught him, were for
pussies.  For people who couldn't handle shit that life
threw their way.  Besides, it showed weakness and 
vulnerability, a spot that the enemy could shoot at.  
Steve still didn't know which enemy his father had 
been referring to, and besides - he was sick of being
'Stone Cold' all the time.  He didn't know why he had
decided to show all to Shane McMahon, and now he 
realized, sitting alone in the bar, that it had been
a mistake.  He should of just shut up and stayed 
distant.

 Austin threw his head back and finished his
drink, grimacing appropriately.  Well, he thought,
standing to go, no more of that.  He had run outta the
room like the silly little bastard he was and Shane 
probably wanted him to stay out.  Which was fine by 
him, just the idea of seeing him again was enough to
make Steve want to dig a hole in the ground and pull 
the dirt in around him.

 Mumbling a thanks to the bartender, Steve turned
to leave and hoped that he'd find a cab without too
much trouble.  He had just reached for the door handle
when it suddenly opened and a group of laughing patrons 
walked in.

 Steve felt his blood run cold, and sobriety hit 
him like a fist.  It was DX.