I finally did it! This couple had been haunting my mind ever since I saw them together, and I finally decided to make them a story. After seeing that there isn't alot of fics where John is written to his actual looks and his persona (which in my opinion is the submissive yet inncoent angel), I decided to finally write this motherfucker! i hate when people write him as a bitch, abuser, slut etc. etc.. this IS based off the one-shot i wrote called You're Worth Fixing so thats why some things may seem similar.

Johnny is my baby and Drew is just a Sexy Scotsman, so let's see how this thing goes! my first wrestling story, so sorry if i get a few things wrong. first chapter is short, i know. but im still planning this whole thing, so i'll make future ch.'s longer and better.

I wish I owned these guys, but Vince does unfortunatly...lucky bastard...

Enjoy My Loves!


John stared in the mirror and sighed.

He wondered how many times he'd have to go through this. He bit his lip as he examined the big bruise on his cheek. Unfortunately, it wasn't anything new. He got hit when he did things wrong, and he got hit when he did nothing at all.

After a while, John realized that it didn't matter what he did. Mike just got a kick out his pain. He got off on it.

John just stared at himself in the mirror. He looked like trash. And he felt like it, courtesy of Mike. As he tended to the big bruise on his cheek, he thought about how much he regrets ever getting with Mike in the first place.

Back when they were a tag team, things where good. Mike was the perfect boyfriend to John. But then… things got bad. Whenever Mike got drunk… John didn't even wanna remember it. John felt his eyes prick with tears at the memory of the first time Mike madeJohn had sex with him.

John wanted to forget it all. But he couldn't. He couldn't because he knew it would happen again. Whether it was when Mike woke up, or tomorrow, He couldn't escape Mike.

He wished he could go back to Smackdown. Away from Mike, away from the pain. But Creative had him in this feud with Sheamus, so that was out of the question until the next draft.

But when was that? In April, that's when. And he didn't even know if he or Mike would get drafted yet. John just shook his head and focused on the bruise on his face. He took out a facecloth and ran it under hot water.

He pressed the cloth to his cheek and whimpered as pain shot through his face at the contact.

Maybe I deserve it. Maybe I deserve worse. John thought.

He shouldn't have made Mike mad. He shouldn't have talked back. He should've just kept his mouth shut. Like always. Mike got pissed when John spoke back. So John always kept his mouth shut unless Mike spoke to him.

Like a trained pet.

Sit!

Stay!

On your back!

Mike treated John like trash. Like a slut. Like a pet. And when you treat someone like trash, eventually they start to feel like trash. And that's how John felt. Like complete and utter trash. Three years of abuse and humiliation caught up with John.

Mike officially made John feel worthless. Mike made John feel worthless. Mike made John feel… dirty.

But the abuse didn't stop at the beatings. All the humiliation and put downs also made John feel horrible.

Dammit John, I swear you're a fucking blond sometimes!

John you're just a jobber, so do you even try?

You should just stop eating all together, before you gain anymore weight.

You're no good for anything! Why the fuck do I even keep you around?

John, you've always have been, and always will be all looks, no skill.

You're nothing more to me or anyone, than a good fuck...

He had to be honest, the last one hurt him the most. But maybe Mike was right. Maybe he was just a good fuck, and nothing more. After all, that's how he was treated. He was just a toy Mike kept around to relieve him whenever he ordered him to do so.

And that meant anywhere at anytime. Whether it was in the locker room before a show, the mens room in a five star resturaunt, or sometimes in the claustrophobic restroom of a plane, John was forced to suck him off, or let Mike fuck him whenever and wherever.

John can remember the words that Mike often said to him.

On your knees, like the pet you are.

You little slut, suck!

Why're you crying, John? You know you love it.

It'd for your own good.

You asked for it..

You were begging for it...

John scoffed. He never asked for any of this. But John just couldn't stop him, no matter how hard he tried.

The brunette slid down the wall of the bathroom and sat on the floor, with the cloth still to his cheek. He was just happy that Mike had fallen asleep and he could just be by himself for a little bit.

John eventually got up and put the face cloth in the sink. He walked into den of the hotel room and sat down on the couch. John felt his phone vibrate in his pocket. He took it out and saw it was a text from Cody, as he was the only one who called him Jojo.

Heyy Jojo u up 4 drinks 2nite? It read.

John sighed, wishing he could. But Mike would be pissed if he left for drinks without telling him or taking him with him. And he would be even more pissed if he woke him up.

Srry man, cant tonight. a bit sore from workin out. John sent the text that stated a lie and put his phone back in his pocket.

He felt like he was a puppet and Mike was his master. And that's exactly what was happening. John sighed and stood up. He needed to get out of this room for a little bit. Mike was a heavy sleeper and wouldn't wake up for some time.

He grabbed his key card and jacket before quietly exiting the hotel room. John quickly arranged his hair so it was covering most of the bruise.

He walked down the hallways, looking for the elevator. As he was walking, he felt someone slam into him, making the brunette fall to the ground. John whimpered as his cheek hit the floor, causing the pain to return.

"Oi! Are you alright there?" Came a thick Scottish accent.

John recognized that voice anywhere. Kneeling before him was Drew Galloway, aka Drew McIntyre.

"I-I'm fine." John stuttered as Drew helped him to his feet.

"You sure? And how'd you get that nasty shiner on yer face?" The Scotsman asked skeptically.

Drew didn't know why, but felt as though there was something wrong with John that went deeper than the bruise on his face.

"I-I'm sure. I… tripped over my suitcase." John lied nervously. He mentally cursed himself for not covering up his bruise before he left.

Drew's eyes roamed over the smaller superstar. He looked worn out, like he was ready to drop to the floor at any moment. The Scotsman raised a brow.

"You tripped?" Drew asked, not buying it.

John's heart started beating faster. He felt as though Drew could see right through him. He prayed that wasn't the case.

"Yeah. Listen, I-I have to go." John said and hurried pass the larger superstar.

Drew let him go… for now. Drew was still wondering where John got that nasty bruise on the face from. Who would even want to hurt John? As far as Drew knew, he was well liked on both rosters. John never fought with anyone backstage.

Drew frowned.

Come to think of it, John was usually soft spoken. He never bothered anybody. He was the same way even when he and the smaller superstar were feuding. Not to mention John was extremely attractive, and was not ashamed to say that he copped a feel of the high flying superstar when they were in the ring together. But never anything too serious.

Drew had more respect than that. Despite his personality on TV, he respected the superstars that where here before him. Drew was simply a gentlemen, as it was the way he was raised. And he had to say, he admired John.

He was impressed with the way John always kept a positive attitude no matter how many opportunities slipped through his fingers.

Drew had to admit that there was something off about how jittery and nervous John was. The Scotsman wondered why he was thinking so much about this anyway. It's not like he and John were friends. Acquaintances maybe, because of their storyline on Smackdown. But not close friends.

Drew shook his head and started walking to his own room. He had to stop thinking about this so much. A bruise on the cheek could mean nothing.

Or it could mean everything. Said a little voice in Drew's head.

The Scotsman sighed as he walked in his room. He shouldn't worry about this. It was John's business on how he got the bruise in the first place. Plus, it probably was nothing. The two superstars weren't friends, so he really shouldn't care.

I should just forget about it. Drew thought.

John can handle himself just fine, right?


Yea, i know. Poor Johnny! Drew is sorta suspicious. Sometimes, i tend to be vague and asume the reader knows everything. so if you want me to add anything, just tell me and ill do better next time.

Reviews are my crack, and im an addict, so REVIEW PLEASE! (My rule: The less reviews I get, the longer it takes to get the chapter out.)