Title: Marvin's Room
Pairing: Past Mike "the Miz" Mizanin/Alex Riley, current Mike Mizanin/John Morrison
Rating: M
Summary: Someone needed to put a breathalizer on his phone, Alex thought, to stop him from drunk dialing. Because calling Mike right now? DEFINITELY not a good idea.
Disclaimer: I don't own shit!
Author's Note: So I know I haven't posted anything wrestling related in a while. I do apologize. That doesn't mean it's not coming! Because it definitely is. I just have some lengthier stuff I'm working on, as well as a full time job I have to show up to, so it's taking a little longer than expected to get everything done. Thus, why I was in such a hurry to post this. So there's probably going to be some mistakes, and there might be parts that just kinda seem rushed, and I apologize for that as well, because it wasn't my intention. I just feel like I'm slacking! Haha. Either way, I really hope you enjoy this. =)
Warnings: Angst.
Michael 3
The name has been highlighted in Alex's phone at least five times over the course of the last hour. He's not sure how many times he'd drunkenly scrolled to it before that. He's only been counting for the last hour because he's only actually thought about calling it for the last hour. It had all started at the club, right as he was getting ready to leave (in a cab, thank God, because he knows better now, thank you very much. That, and he's pretty sure no one would bail him out this time, so.) when he'd tried to call Mike McGillicutty for a quick hook-up (and how fitting, he thinks, that he's even got the same name. How pathetic can he get?). His vision had been so blurred by the drinks, his fingers so clumsy, that he'd almost dialed his ex. Someone needed to put a breathalizer on his phone, he thought, to stop him from drunk dialing. He'd thought it was funny, too, upon realizing it, that the older is still the only Michael in his phone. So funny, in fact, that he'd proceeded to laugh so hard that he'd needed to brace himself on the wall outside the club for support. Somewhere along the way, his laughter had dissolved into slight tears, and he'd crouched down, still leaning against the wall as he'd simply stared at the name, almost kneeling on the ground. After a moment, he'd taken a shaky breath in, swiping an arm across his eyes and standing once agan, heading out to hail a cab. This was not the time to be calling Mike. Not at all.
Once in the cab, he'd clicked through his phone book several more times, always stopping on Mike's name when he passed, examining it for a few long moments before moving on. He'd thought about everyone in his phone, anyone that he could possibly call to come over once he made it back home, "entertain" him for a bit, and while a few people had come to mind, none of them really jumped out at him. Which had been what brought him to the predicament he's in now, staring at Mike's name highlighted in his phone, debating calling him at...he checks his clock...2:47 AM. Perfect, he thinks. Mike's probably even curled up in bed with John right now, both of them so incredibly glad to have each other back that Mike wouldn't even think of answering the phone. He sighs, pays the taxi driver when they pull up outside his house. He stumbles in the door, nearly breaking his key off in the lock on his way. He thinks for a moment about trying for his bedroom, but he's pretty sure he wouldn't make it all the way, so he makes for the couch instead, barely reaching it before he collapses, phone still in hand. He brings it back up over his head as he lays on his back, stares at the name for a few more long minutes. Fuck it, he finally thinks, phone swimming in front of his eyes so much that he almost can't focus on the talk button long enough to hit it. He manages, though, closing his eyes as he brings it to his ear to listen to it ring. He almost nods off in a drunken stupor while he waits, his ex's voice being what viciously rips him back to reality.
"Hello? Alex?" Mike asks, and Alex feels himself smile.
"Mikey!" he exclaims, wanting to curse himself when even that comes out slurred. Still, he continues. "What's up?"
"Do you have any idea what time it is?" Mike's angry voice demands, and Alex pouts. He didn't want to make Mike angry. He'd just wanted to hear the older's voice. And maybe to see him. Yea, definitely to see him, too.
"I'm sorry." he tries, sadness seeping into his tone. "Did I disturb you?"
Mike sighs. "No, not really. I guess not."
Now, Alex is confused. He voices his concerns, puzzled look on his face.
"Well, what's the problem then?"
"I, uh. I guess there's really not one?" Mike responds, phrasing it almost like a question. Then, Mike seems to realize something himself, asking, "How much have you had to drink, Alex?"
"Not as much as you'd think, really. There was this party, at this bar, and man, do they know how to mix drinks." Alex hears himself explain, licking his lips as he remembers the taste of a few of them. "You should have been there. Everyone else was. You would have had fun. But, I totally understand you wanting to be home with John."
"You talk like I turned into a homebody or something!" Mike laughs, and it's almost easy. "We go out. Just not as much as I used to."
"Oh yea? Well, funny thing. I never see you." Alex says, trying to keep the hurt out of his voice. He instantly wants to take the statement back once it has a chance to register through the fog what exactly he'd said. He hadn't meant to sound personally victimized. Still, he can't help but feel sometimes that Mike is avoiding going out just to avoid running into him. He stealthily switches the subject. "Where is John, anyway?"
And yea, that's a fantastic topic to switch to. Alex can't believe he asked, can't believe he even brought the older man up. It's just strange not seeing Mike when he goes out places. The older man has been so wrapped up in Morrison since they got back together, though, that no one has seen hide nor hair of him for what feels like months, and as hard as it normally is for Alex to admit, now that he's under the comfortable haze of the drugs and alcohol, the thought dances around in his brain freely: he misses Mike, more than he thought he would, and those thoughts are made glaringly apparent with John back in the picture. Still, this isn't exactly the time to be reminding Mike of his ever-present boyfriend, Alex thinks. But, it's not as though he can take it back now, waiting for Mike to answer and cursing himself quietly. Although, if he's really honest with himself, he knows John isn't there. His Mike Mizanin instincts are rarely wrong, and he's pretty damn sure his ex wouldn't have even touched the phone if John had been around. Not once he'd seen who it was, at least. The mere fact that they're even having this conversation is pretty well evidence enough that Mike is alone.
"He's. He's out." Mike confirms anyway, after a long beat of silence, almost like he's ashamed to even admit it.
Wait, John had left him there by himself to go out gallavanting around town?, Alex thinks. What an asshole. And no way should Mike be ashamed of that. It's John's fuck-up, leaving him there. He deserves so much better than that, Alex thinks.
"Who are you to decide what I deserve anymore, Alex?" Mike almost snaps, and Alex gulps. He hadn't meant to say any of that out loud.
"I'm sorry. I'm drunk. Don't mind me." Alex says by way of an apology.
"I know. I can hear that. Alex, what are you doing?" Mike asks, sighing.
"Talking to you, dork." the younger replies with a laugh, one that dies off when he realizes Mike isn't laughing with him. Then, his voice gets incredibly quiet, almost like he's telling a secret. Really, he thinks, he might be. "I dunno. I just think you could do better, is all."
He hears Mike's sharp intake of breath, despite the older's attempts to mask it.
"What, better like you?" Mike does snap now, and Alex cringes even though Mike can't see him.
"No. Just better than him." Alex answers as honestly as he can.
"Yea, well, you lost the opportunity to decide what I do and don't deserve when you cheated on me, alright? So how about you keep your opinions on my relationship to yourself?" the older says angrily.
"I know that." Alex caves, bringing an arm to cover his eyes. Then, "I'm sorry. Please don't hang up."
They're both quiet for a moment while Alex tries to compose himself, and he hates that he's doing this, nearly breaking down on the phone with his ex boyfriend. After a beat, he inhales shakily.
"I'm sorry. It's just been kind of a rough month." he finally repeats. Mike lets out a breath that's not quite a sigh, sounding as if he's laying back on the bed.
"Tell me about it." the older mumbles, the note of stress in his voice finally making its way through Alex's thoroughly alcohol-muddled brain.
"No. You tell me about yours first." Alex attempts, finding himself desperately hoping that Mike takes the bait.
For a moment, he thinks it's not going to work, that the older is going to simply be done with him, hang up and try to forget the conversation ever happened. But then, Mike begins slowly explaining how stressful his month has been, and Alex settles in with a wide smile to listen. They dissolve into casual conversation from there, Alex trying to maintain something of a level head. After all the free drinks he's had tonight, though, it's becoming increasingly harder, and the more he hears Mike speak, especially in that half-defeated tone, the more he wants, no, needs to see him. Finally, he hears the words tumble out, slip from his lips as if they belong to someone else.
"Man, fuck John. You should come over."
And Alex thinks that maybe drinking that codeine was a bad idea, no matter how good of one it had seemed at the time. Calling Mike was definitely a bad idea, but probably, the syrup was too, he reasons. He'd certainly never have the balls to speak to Mike like this otherwise, and he knows it. Especially when he continues on at Mike's startled, "what?"
"I mean it. We have the rest of the night off, and then it's right back to the grind. We've gotta get on our flights in the morning and jump right back into our busy, stressful lives, and I wanna see you before that."
"Alex..." Mike sighs out after a few long moments of silence that make Alex hold his breath nervously. "Why are you doing this right now? It's three in the morning."
It's muffled, like Mike has a hand over his face. Alex can picture it with his eyes closed, and it makes him feel bad. He can't help it, though. He misses Mike.
"Because I want to see you." he says, mouth drawing back into a pout even though his ex is completely unaware of it.
"Alex, I can't. I'm with someone now. I'm with John." Mike tells the younger, almost as if he's trying to convince himself more than Alex. It makes Alex's alcohol and drug-addled brain want to push that much harder. Especially when the older repeats it, firmer this time. "I'm with John, and he loves me, and-"
"Then where is he at right now?" Alex asks, in too deep to turn back now.
"That's not fair." Mike whispers.
"Why is it not fair?" Alex presses even more. He can't seem to stop himself, the words catching up with his brain a moment too late, only after they've already been said. It's not as if he doesn't mean them, either, and he thinks that's the worst part as he listens to his speech slur across the line, honest thoughts pouring out to Mike. "No, y'know what's not fair? That you're alone right now. That you have a flight out at the ass crack of dawn, and it's after three in the morning, and your boyfriend is God knows where getting smashed, when he should be home with you. He doesn't even get to travel with you anymore! He should be there spending as much time with you as possible."
"What, like you would be here?" Mike asks angrily, like he doesn't believe it. It makes Alex irrationally mad, and even though he knows it's the alcohol, he can't help but lash out.
"You're damn right I would!" Alex quickly objects.
"Oh yea? Who the hell are you? Aren't you just getting in, too? And quite drunk, I might add." Mike accuses him.
"Yea, alone. To my empty fucking apartment." Alex fires back. He won't be judged for his actions anymore. This isn't him they're talking about. Though, apparently, Mike seems to think it is.
"Well, that's a first." Mike bites out, and Alex is through.
"Yea, this week, it is, actually. Is that what you wanted to hear, Mike?" he says blatantly. He thinks he hears Mike gasp sharply, but he can't be bothered to care. His emotions are on overdrive, and he can't stop the word vomit that just keeps coming out of his mouth. He's so trashed, he can't even think about what he's saying until after it's already said. "Did you want me to tell you about all the nameless people in the bars and the clubs that I've hooked up with? All the girls and guys I've flown out to shows, and even here to Tampa? All the hotel rooms I've paid for? All of our co-workers I've fucked around with? Huh?"
Alex doesn't want to admit that he flies everyone out just so that he doesn't have to sleep alone. He doesn't want to tell Mike that he pays for the hotel rooms just so some of them will stay. He doesn't want to voice the fact that he'll let people do what they want because at least someone still wants him, just for a little bit. No, he just wants to hurt Mike, and with the way the older's breathing is shaking slightly, he's done his job. It's not as satisfying as he thought it'd be, though, he realizes, especially when Mike falls completely silent for several long moments. Alex would think he hung up, except that he can still hear the occasional breath from his ex drifting across the line. Eventually, Mike speaks again, his voice slightly more gravelly than before.
"Who?" he asks simply, and Alex coughs out a laugh.
"I'd rather not say." he replies quietly.
He closes his eyes to block out the images that flash behind his eyes at the words. McGillicutty spread out under him on a locker room bench. Gabriel's skin contrasting beautifully with white sheets. Kelly riding him in a random hotel room, her moans so loud he was sure everyone would hear. His fingers tangled roughly in Swagger's hair in some arena bathroom stall. Even the time with Maryse in the back hallway of an arena, her dress hitched up around her hips, the time that had left her so ashamed to be around Mike that she'd ended up leaving for good. The worst part is that Alex doesn't even really think about all the sex, normally. It's not like he has anything beyond physical attraction and a potential friendship with any of them, at best. Really, they're all interchangable. The thought usually makes him feel good, comforts him, almost, the simple fact that he has so many people who just want him. Now, though, with Mike's voice burning his ear, it leaves a bad taste in his mouth, makes him feel almost ill. They're only interchangable because they're just not Mike.
"Alex, what's gotten into you?"
And Mike's voice cuts through his thoughts once more. He sounds sad, now, and it makes Alex hurt all the more in the fog. Still, he finds himself answering honestly because of it, no matter how much more it makes him hurt in the process.
"It's too much." he whispers.
"What is?" Mike asks, and Alex's eyes open in suprise that the older even heard him.
"All of it, man. The interviews. The meetings. The extra training. The attention. All of it. It's just too much, I think, all at once, and I'm not sure I can handle it. And without you here-" Alex rambles on without even processing what he's saying. It almost shocks him that Mike snaps at him.
"Whoa, no. You're not gonna blame this shit on me-" and he has to interrupt the older before he goes any further.
"Hey, no, I know that. That's not what I was saying." Alex explains as best he can. "I'm pretty fucked up. Bear with me."
He stops, takes a deep breath and scrubs his hands over his face one quick time to try and clear his thoughts.
"What I mean is," he begins again, hoping beyond belief that he can find the right words this time. He can't risk losing Mike now that his ex his finally listening to him again. "I just don't have anyone who can relate to it anymore. Y'know? All my other friends are just coming up in the business, like me, and they just...they don't get it like you do. They can't give me the insight you did, or help me like you did, and it just...it sucks."
Mike is silent for a few moments. Alex takes advantage, talking on before he even has a chance to speak up again.
"And I know you're gonna say that I'm the one who fucked things up, and I know that. Really, I do. And believe me when I say that there is...nothing I regret more in the world than hurting you. I mean, to be honest, I'm lucky as hell you even answered, am I right?" Alex asks with a laugh. When Mike doesn't laugh along, though, just remains silent, it feels awkward, and Alex trails off into a sad cough. He has words resting on the tip of his tongue, but he's terrified to say them, scared of what the older's reaction will be. After a moment, he finally decides fuck it, he's come this far, and throws caution to the wind. "I guess I just miss you, is all."
"Alex..." Mike attempts to interrupt, but Alex isn't having it. Now that the courage is here, he can't afford to let it go.
"I know you miss me, too. We wouldn't still be talking if you didn't." he says, and when Mike inhales sharply, he knows he's managed to strike a nerve. He rambles on, knows the liquor is talking now, but he can't be bothered to care. Something akin to relief is sinking into his skin with every word, and it feels too good to just stop now. "Don't you still think about it, Mike? All the good times we had together? Because I do. I think about it all the time, Mike. And I couldn't feel like more of an idiot for letting you go. I would give anything to take it all back. Start over."
Alex listens as Mike's breathing hitches. As much as he hates it, he can't help but think that he's finally getting through to the older, finally breaking down his walls and really getting to talk to him for the first time in months. The words are out before he even has a chance to process them.
"Seriously, Mike, come over. I want to see you."
For a few long, quiet minutes, it seems like Mike is actually mulling over it, actually considering gracing Alex with his presence. Alex presses a little bit harder.
"Besides, what else do you have to do?"
But of course, Alex had to go and jinx himself, because it feels like the very second the words have left his mouth, he hears another voice in the background. Evidentially, John's finally home.
"Shit." Mike mutters. "Alex, I-"
"No, I get it. It's fine. He'll probably take better care of you, anyway." Alex replies, not giving the older a chance to feel bad about his decision, even in this moment to choose John over himself. It hurts, the way Mike is trying to rush off the phone, it seems, but Alex knows it's for the best. At least, it's what he tells himself. Out loud, he mumbles, "You deserve that at least."
"But Alex, I-" Mike tries again, somthing similar to desperation in his voice, an honest effort to stop Alex from ending the conversation, but Alex refuses to hear him out (refuses to hurt himself anymore).
"Goodbye, Michael."
He hangs up before his ex has a chance to get another sound out, dropping his phone onto the floor as he leans sideways, drops onto his back on the couch. Part of him can't help but think that whatever Mike was going to say, it was important. It couldn't be, though, he figures. Not after everything. He lets out a harsh breath, blames his blurred vision on the liquor while he blinks to clear it. He hates that even now, Mike still has this unrelenting power over him, this ability to completely weaken him with nothing more than a simple tone of voice. It's not like he can help it, though. He loves Mike, even now. And, as much as it'd hurt, he'd meant every word he'd said to the older. Still, he thinks with another soft sigh, rubbing at his eyes roughly, calling Mike really was a bad idea.