Addicted
A/N: This is a Cole/Randy request written for the amazing BeautyKillerRhodes. This is my first shot at writing this pairing, so cut me a little slack if it sucks, and at least try to enjoy. Also, please leave me some reviews telling me if you liked it or if you have some ideas on how I could improve on it.
Michael Cole sat in catering, alone in the crowd as always. He was surrounded by divas and superstars, techies, other commentators from the various brands, and quite a few others who played some role or another in making everything come together. And they all had something that Cole didn't, a friend to sit with them and keep them company before the show. He supposed he deserved it; it wasn't like he was the friendliest or nicest guy around, but even so, that made no difference for most of the others. The Miz, widely considered to be the most annoying superstar on the roster, had people surrounding him, listening to him go on and on about himself. But everyone avoided Cole like the plague and he'd learned not to try and force his company on any of them, unless he wanted to find out just what they're oversized muscles were capable of. So he sat alone, picking at his food and talking himself up, complimenting himself so that he would be able to go out and do his job without having a meltdown; the last thing he needed was to be fired from another job.
When the chair in front of his scraped out and someone sat across from him, he could barely contain his shock and fear. He looked up to see who it was, and was met with the piercing gaze of the Viper himself and he nearly choked on his food. It had been a long time since he'd had any off camera contact with the man. Since that time, he had changed a lot, he'd become terrifying to be around, and he'd begun to take his voices gimmick more seriously than could possibly be considered healthy; and he had chosen to sit with Cole of all people. Not with his good friend John Cena, who was having a friendly debate with Punk while Sheamus sat by smirking that trouble loving smirk of his. Not with the Divas, who would have fawned and cooed over him, basking in his presence. No, he'd bypassed it all to join Cole, who could only sit by and stare in shock. There was a silence between them that was only magnified by the chatter surrounding them. Randy's gaze bore into Cole like a predator sizing up his pray, and Cole flinched back into his seat, attempting to shrink away to nothing. He knew he couldn't run, couldn't leave. If Randy wanted something from him, he'd get it, and there was nothing Cole could do or say to avoid it.
"Hello Randy," he said, trying to sound confident, though his body language contradicted it completely. He got no reply other than a twitch of the lips and a quirk of the brow. Cole fidgeted in his seat, not needing to ask the other man what he wanted or why now.
For nearly a year, he'd been in a relationship with one Cody Rhodes, and in the last few weeks, the relationship had gone sour and ultimately ended. That left Randy alone, and he did not fare well when he was lonely. So he came to Cole, the one man he knew who wouldn't say no and who couldn't tell anyone about what would go on later that night in his room; it was to Randy's advantage to choose someone who had no friends and no one to even talk to. Thoughts of it all weighed heavy on his mind all throughout the show, causing him to be much quieter than usual. He knew he'd catch hell for it a little later, but he couldn't pull his mind away from Orton and the things that the man had in store for him.
After the show, when the fans were filing out and the roster was packing up to go back to their hotel rooms, Cole left as quickly as he could, avoiding everyone as he went.
He slid into his car and threw his head back against the head rest. His nerves were on edge, his entire body shaking and he wasn't sure whether it was from fear or anticipation. Whatever it was, it made it incredibly difficult to drive, but he eventually made it to his hotel, and raced to the elevator. When he finally made it to his room, he closed his door and locked all three of the locks before breathing a sigh of relief. It was short lived however, because before he knew it he was being spun around and slammed into the door hard enough to knock him slightly silly. Randy captured his mouth in a hard, bruising kiss; he bit at Cole's bottom lip, splitting it and causing them both to taste his blood as it washed over their tongues. When he'd had enough of the light stuff, he dragged him over to the bed, which was already set up for the games he had planned.
Cole's wrists were strapped with belts to the bed posts and Randy pulled his legs apart so that he was spread eagle face down in the pillow as the blood rushed from his brain to his groin. He hated that he enjoyed this; that he wanted to feel Randy's hands running over him, to feel the other man inside him, to feel dominated, possessed. The only thing these little trysts lacked was the feeling that he was loved, that Randy needed him. It was always there in the back of his mind, nagging at him when all he wanted was to enjoy the few moments of contact he was able to glean from the superstar.
Randy liked it rough and he liked to mark his partner, make them his own. The first hard slap of his belt elicited a small scream from Cole that was muffled by the pillows. Slowly, the screams became moans as Randy began to run his hands over Cole's body while trailing kisses over his back. The first bite was more of a gentle nip, but they got harder and stronger as Randy went, but Cole enjoyed it, probably more than anyone sane person should.
Finally, Randy had had enough of toying around with the smaller man and Cole found himself being driven into with no preparation or lubrication at all. He liked it that way, the feel of Randy right up against him, inside of him, rubbing him raw; it was a physical manifestation of what the man did to him mentally and emotionally. As Randy's thrusts began to become sharper and more erratic, Cole's heart dropped even as he found himself nearing the edge. It was coming to an end, he was so close, and there was nothing he wanted more than for this to not end. But all too soon, he found himself coming hard enough to make spots take over his vision and not long after, Randy was filling him up while growling loudly. All was still and silent for a moment until Randy pulled out of him, leaving him strapped o the bed as he went to take a shower. The familiar sense of shame and self-loathing washed over Cole as he lay on the bed, arms asleep and his body aching and used. He could hear Randy in the shower, talking to people who weren't there as the water pounded down over him. The noise had a lulling effect on Cole, and though he tried to wait it out, the next thing he knew, he was waking up to his wrists being released. Randy loomed over him for a moment longer before he was gone, letting the door slam as he left.
Cole slowly found his legs and the feeling returned to his arms, and he made his way to the shower, knowing that no matter how long he stood under the scalding water and no matter how hard he scrubbed, he wouldn't be able to wash Randy away.