Name: The Gun Show
Pairing: Alex Riley/Mike "The Miz" Mizanin, hinted Randy Orton/Cody Rhodes
Rating: M
Summary: Mike has a talk with Randy about the way he treats Alex.
Author's Note: So a friend of mine sent me a couple prompt lists. I told her to send me as many as she wants, and I will write as many of them as I'm inspired to. Sometimes, they'll be drabbles. Sometimes I'll write a whole bunch in one night or over a couple days and you'll get a fic dump. Either way, here it is. =) Enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own shit!
Warnings: Threats.
Prompt: Too Much
"Randy, I need to have a word with you."
Mike can't believe he can sound so intimidating when he's so fucking nervous. Still, as he stomps over to the older man where he stands in the hotel excersize, he glare doesn't waver. He almost stands on his toes trying to loom over The Viper. Randy almost smirks at him.
"What can I do for you, Michael?" Randy growls.
The Champ's gaze hardens more.
"You. Don't. Fucking. Call me that." he says, staring the older down.
Mike will not be fucked with. Not this time. Alex is hurt. Mike's absolutely livid, and he's not backing down. Randy looks shocked.
"Leave Alex the fuck alone." the Champ growls. "Do you understand me?"
Randy opens his mouth to say something, but Mike jabs a finger into his chest. He's amazed at his own courage.
"No. You shut up. I'm talking now." he snaps. "Look, whatever issue you have right now that you feel the need to take outside of the ring and off the cameras, it's with me. Not him. So leave him the fuck out of it.
The Viper does shoot him an evil smirk now, standing taller and trying to turn the tables. Mike never falters.
"I don't think you get it-" the older tries, but he's cut off abruptly.
"No, I don't think you get it." Mike's right back in his face, staring him down despite their height difference. "I care about him. A lot. And you just fucked up his shoulder over some fucking problem that you have with me, and I don't like that. See, you just keep doing shit like this, hurting him for no reason, thinking you can just get away with it. And I'm here to tell you you can't."
"Oh yea?" Randy asks, really towering over Mike now. He's in full Viper stance, all smirking intimidation. "And what, pray tell, do you think you're going to do about it?"
"Well, If you keep trying to damage something of mine," Mike begins, smirking right back up at the older. "I just might damage something of yours."
Randy's glaring now, and he thinks, I've got him. He keeps talking.
"I mean...I do have friends on Smackdown. Big friends. You wouldn't want Cody to get thrown around a bit, would you?"
Orton seems to pale a bit, but in the same instant, becomes the epitome of his in-ring persona. His teeth are clenched, fists closed so tight Mike thinks he might draw blood. The Champ smirks harder.
"You wouldn't dare." Randy growls out, and Mike is kind of nervous again all of a sudden. He doesn't let it show.
"Wouldn't I?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.
They stare each other down for a few moments, neither of them speaking. The tension's so thick, Mike feels like he can't breathe. Finally, he leans in close, his breath hitting Randy's face, making the older sneer harder.
"Fuck with Alex again, and you'll find out." he whispers.
With that, he shoves Orton hard against the wall and storms out. He keeps his composure, face hardened, as he winds through the back hallways of the hotel. He makes it all the way to the stairs before he breaks, his legs shaking too much to hold him up anymore. He drops to the ground, crouching trembling on the stair while he tries to calm his breathing. He can't believe he just threatened Randy Orton. In a way, he thinks he's screwed. But then, he thinks about Alex, and his shoulder, and he knows it's worth it. He takes a deep, slow breath and wipes his face, grabbing the railings and lifting himself to stand. He turns and hurries up the rest of the stairs. Alex is waiting.