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Summary
Triple H/Shawn Michaels SLASH.
Shawn's sleeping in the passenger seat, his head lolling from one side to the other. Golden strands of hair sticking to his sweaty face and his mouth is slightly agape.
“You bastard,” Hunter mutters and glances at Shawn, “should've left you for dead in the hotel.”
He doesn't mean it. Never could and that makes him angry again.
