A/N: So, this is my first WWE slash fic. Enjoy, and as always, no flames.
Disclaimer: I own none of the WWE characters and acknowledge that I have no idea if these guys are gay/straight and some of them are actually married. What they do in their personal lives is none of my business, and this is merely fiction.
Indicates thought-
Chapter 1: Wrong Side Of the Bed
It was a beautiful summer morning. Birds were chirping. The sun was shining. People walked along the sidewalks. Cars drove up and down the street. And Randy Orton wished they would all just stop, because he just wanted some peace and quiet so he could sleep off his hangover.
"Damn it," he cursed silently, his head pounding. "How much did I have last night, again? No, scratch that, I don't want to know."
After Raw had ended last night, John fucking Cena had to suggest that they go out for a few drinks. Of course, Randy should have known that "a few drinks" to the Raw crowd meant drinking the bar almost dry. He vaguely recalled Evan Bourne dancing on the bar trying to do a table dance for a group of very excited ladies, much to the amusement of the other superstars. Despite the sick feeling in his stomach, he smiled slightly at the memory.
The smile was short lived as he opened his eyes slowly, and he winced as he adjusted to the light. A slightly worried expression crept on his face when his mind registered that he wasn't wearing anything. (Just how did that happen?) The look of concern grew further when he came to the conclusion he was not in the room he was supposed to be sharing with John. Then a look of horror dominated as he rolled over in the bed and realized he was, in fact, not alone.
Mike "the Miz" Mizanin was curled up next to him, still sleeping soundly. His face was the exact opposite of Randy's; he was the picture of contentment. To the older man's growing alarm, he could tell he also was not wearing anything either and-
"OH, DEAR GOD, IS THAT A BITE MARK ON HIS NECK?" Randy's mind was now screaming.
Things seemed to be getting worse and worse for the third generation superstar as he continued to stare at the sleeping man next to him. What happened? Had he in the heat of the moment done something stupid? Not that he didn't like the younger man laying beside him. He just never thought about sleeping with him.
"O.K., I am not going to panic." he sighed."I am going to quietly get out of here, and I am going to pretend that this never happened. Yeah, Mike probably doesn't remember a thing. He was just as trashed as I was, right? Yes, of course he was. No one has to know that this ever happened."
He rolled out of bed as quietly as possible feeling sick for just a minute from the sudden movement. He noted with some relief that Evan was not in the room, who probably ended up sleeping with Jillian. Then he got dressed, thankful that his room key was still in the pocket of his jeans. Without a second glance back, he crept out of the room and made his way towards his room to gather his thoughts. The whole time he was doing this, he had no idea that he was being watched.
Mike stared at the door for several minutes in silence. Then he closed his eyes and sighed gently. "What have I done?"
A/N: Uh-oh. What's going to happen next? Comments please.