Pairings thus far: Minor mentionings of reluctant (ended) Miz/OCs(f) and a one-time consensual (ended) Miz/OC(m)

Time for a completely random chapter! :D I was originally planning to write a chapter putting the events listed first in this chapter into better context, but with little to no Youtube footage to help me source it from, what can I do? D: Anyways, enjoy the nonsense!
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Michael's home, 2007

"We did it...we actually did it. We actually won! HOORAH!"

These very words are words that probably popped inside the minds of Buzz Aldrin and Neil Armstrong whenever they graciously landed on the Moon or maybe even people of less fame such as your high school football team after winning the championship trophy for the season. And why wouldn't these words pop into their heads after earning something of great achievement and importance? These words, my friend, are the words spoken or thought out by winners. And yes, you guessed it, these are the same words that popped into the minds of John Hennigan and Michael Mizanin after winning the WWE Tag Team Championship belts together.

It had been on the November 16 episode of Smackdown that the world got to view the not so shocking turn of events in a tag team title match as not only one, but two matches in a row had been scheduled in which Montel Vontavious Porter and Matt Hardy would epically fail to retain the titles from the two younger wrestlers. Since the WWE Creative team had been planning an angle for Matt and MVP to be rivals for the United States title that MVP had possessed, they just simply decided that it would be unethical for the two to be champions and thus written them out to lose their titles to one of the show's newest tag teams, the (then) untitled tag team of John Morrison and The Miz. The first match between the two teams that night had ended in quite a disappointingly short turn of events as Miz was tagged in and caught Matt Hardy in a sudden pinfall that was aspired by Morrison's crafty leg work from outside the ring. Of course, you can imagine Montel Vontavious Porter wasn't very happy with this outcome and demanded his rematch clause immediately after his team's embarrassing defeat. Unfortunately, Matt Hardy had then failed him yet again by tapping out to Morrison's submission hold.

Oh yes, what a fabulous night that was! Despite the entire event being one that Michael already knew would happen thanks to the script, he still couldn't help but feel an overwhelming amount of ecstasy in his blood. The WWE Tag Team Championship belt had been the first major belt the young man had ever held on television and Mikey couldn't even begin to express his heavy gratitude for the writing staff. Not only had the said workers helped Michael with his first title reign, but they also helped encourage another positive event in his life to occur. And that said event would be happening very soon as a matter of fact; John Hennigan was expected to arrive at Michael's front door in a few hours.

For the past couple of weeks, the relationship between Mike and John could only be described as...well, stalled. Michael wanted to formed a friendship with the California native since the common knowledge between them was that they would be future tag champions together, but John refused to actually acknowledge themselves as official friends until Michael proved to him that he wasn't the reality hack that everybody had made him out to be. John knew deep down that the younger man wasn't the bad guy that he was on TV, but then again, John hadn't ever really been one to trust others as well as he ought've. Fortunately, winning the titles was just enough to convince the long-haired man that the former Reality TV star wasn't all that bad and decided to visit the younger man in his Los Angeles home to talk everything over.

Even though John was just coming over to talk with Michael about holding the tag titles, Mizanin couldn't help but feel butterflies fluttering about on the inside of his already empty stomach. It wasn't a lie that Michael found John to be possibly the sexiest man he had ever laid eyes on and it wasn't exactly everyday that an incredibly hott guy set foot inside of Michael's house just to hang out with him. So it was pretty much a give in that Michael would do everything he could to give the older man a good impression of him. That was the best explanation Mikey could pan out as he clutched a duster, a Windex spray bottle, and a wet dish rag...cleaning everything that even remotely looked unsanitary to the faux-hawked young man.

"Now, I'm going to become my mother for a day for I, Michael Mizanin, am not only one half of the WWE Tag Team Champions, but I am also...The House Nanny Champion of the World...or at least my house. With my plastic duster and dampened wash cloth of Justice, I'll bring the germs in this house to their knees...Wow...I actually did shit like that for John? Oh boy...Michael, you are pathetic."

Spray. Scrub. Dust. Repeat. This pattern became quite familiar with the young man as he crouched down on all fours, scrubbing the smooth tiled surface of his kitchen floor about three times until he was perfectly satisfied with his hard work. So after cleaning his kitchen, he moved onward to his living room, then his bedroom, the guest bedroom, and last but not least, both of his bathrooms. Altogether, cleaning Michael Mizanin's house took up about three to four hours up in his day that he could've spent relaxing. But hey, it was for a good cause, right?

Luckily for the man at work, it was only 10:34 in the morning and John wasn't expected to show up for at least another four hours. This gave Michael plenty of time to take himself a well deserved shower and spend the next couple of hours preparing himself for this quite intriguing visit from his tag team partner. So, that's just what he proceeded in doing as he made his way into the master bathroom, turned up the television in his bedroom, and undressed himself. Once every bit of clothing he had been previously wearing, which was just a pair of gray sweatpants, a white undershirt, and his plaid boxers, was off of the muscular man's body, he opened his beige shower curtains and stepped inside his shower/tub system.

Surely, since Michael was feeling nervous enough for a group full of menstruating women, the young man's chest was met with scolding hot water whenever he turned the middle valve for warm water and the blast soared down to his feet in a scorching wave of pain. "OW-ch! Owww!" The poor guy quickly backed away from the running water and calmed his nerves down. "Calm down, Mikey...think of this as a test...a true test to your sanity and patience..."

With the sight of steaming water pouring from the silver shower head and the sound of some stupid car insurance commercial playing on his wide screen television set just one room away from him, Michael took this moment to try convincing himself that everything was going to be okay; he was just being too anxious for what would be happening just a few hours from that moment. John would be walking through Michael's front door, probably holding his title belt over his shoulder, and Michael would just simply be himself and hope that himself was good enough for his partner. Still, it was almost awkward for the younger man to be this determined just to make a good impression on a man that he would be seeing a lot of for the on-coming months...possibly years if the two men worked well enough as a team. It was one of those times that Michael reminded himself of a hormonal teenage girl getting ready for a Friday night date with some hunk in her Algebra class.

"Don't let yourself get too used to feeling that way, bro..."

Once the shower water had simmered down to more of a suitable temperature, Michael stepped under the running water and began running his hands through his now flattened head of hair. The professional wrestler grabbed the bar of soap sitting next to the halfway full bottle of Suave and began to mindlessly scrub his chest, followed by his arms, underarms, and legs. In the not so distant background of his bedroom, the sound of VH1 Classic filled his ears whenever he realized that KISS was playing on his TV. Of course, Michael found himself humming along with the lyrics.

"I look at you and my blood boils hoot! I feel my temperature rissse!"

While his mind set more with the song in his bedroom, Michael continued to thoughtlessly scrub his stomach with the same bar of soap as the lathered water trickled passed his crotch and down his tough thighs. With his left hand, he gently rubbed the lathered fluid over the slightly hairy patch just above what distinguished himself as a male.

I want it all, give me what you got..."

Once he was finished rinsing and lathering his muscular yet petite physicique, he set the bar of soap back where he had originally grabbed it from and switched it out with the bottle of shampoo.

"There's hunger in your eeeyes..."

He popped open the container and squirted a small amount into his right palm.

"I'm getting closer, baby hear me breeeathe! You know the way to give me what I neeeed! Just let me love you and you'll never leeeave..."

It was about this point in the song that Michael had already lathered his hair with the sweet scented Suave and could no longer resist an urge that had hit him since the song had started; he hopped up, legs spread equally slant, and he took the now closed bottle of shampoo and sang into it like a microphone. "Feel my heat, takin' you higher...Buuurn with me! Heeaven's on fire!" The naked man then began to shake his hips with the rhythm of the song as his voice grew louder. "Paint the sky with desire! Angel fly! Heeaven's on fire!"

"*facepalm*...idiot."

Was it idiocy, or was it just a clever way of getting his nerves out of his system? Michael, at the time being, much rather preferred the second out of the two. It didn't matter if he was singing in key or off key; he was jamming! Let the man be!

"I got a fever ragin' in my heeeart! You make me shiver and shake..." At this point in the song, Mikey began to feel a lot like Tina Turner as he swung his hips and stepped forward and backward. "Baaaby don't stop, take it to the top, eat it like a piece of caaake..." So finally after all of that silly cavorting, Michael's hopping around caused the wet bar of soap to slip back onto the floor with the running water and the professional wrestler ended up stepping on it in the middle of singing. "You're comin' closer, I can hear you bre-eeeeeeeeeeathe!"

Yes, the exaggerated lyric was the grown man slipping on the bar of soap and falling back on his bare ass. "Ooof!" Once the startled young man looked forward and spotted the shiny bar of soap sliding towards him, he grabbed it mid-motion and held it up. His eyes shifted into an angry expression as the awkward man glared at the hygiene product.

"I don't like you." After a moment, Michael gently set the bar of white soap back to where it originally would've been and returned to his feet so he could continue bathing in silence and tranquility. Not long after, Michael was finally finished being naked and stepped out of the shower/tub system and wrapped a towel around his waist, followed by bending down and wrapping another towel around his damp head of hair. Right after Mikey was covered in terms of dripping hair and private areas, the sound of his house phone ringing caught his attention and he stepped into his bedroom and turned the volume down on his wide screen. Afterwards, he performed almost a light jog into his kitchen and answered the ringing wall phone.

"Hello?"

"Yeah hey, is this Mike?"

"You has him. Who may I ask is calling?"

"It's John, dude."

Michael bit his lip in excitement.

"Hiya. Am I still expecting you to arrive later?"

Michael heard a slight sigh on the other end.

"Naw, I just got called in by Mr. McMahon to date his daughter. Of course you're still expecting me, dumbass."

A wide smile spread across the face of the dumbass himself.

"Ah, so Vince called you in to get your ass kicked by his son-in-law, Paul?"

"Tch-I'd own 'H' anyday of the week."

"Oh really? I'd like to see you try, Johnny boy."

"One day, little child. One day. But for now, I have to deal with amateur pricks like you."

Michael chuckled at his partner's playful rudeness.

"Watch yourself, son. If you continue being that mean, you won't get the last cookie out of the jar like the other children have."

"What? Last cookie-what?"

Michael held back his laughter for John's sake.

"Nothing. You just get your ass over here soon, 'ight?"

"After I piss, I'll drive over. Satisfy you?"

"Yes. And after I stop being naked, I'll greet you. Until then, I'll be seeing you later."

"Sounds goo-naked? What the hell you-"

And with that, Michael hung the phone back onto the wall and let out his suppressed laughter. After his laughter had calmed and began to think out loud. "Haha-oh John...you are quite the cutie, aren't you?" And with that, Michael made his way back to his bedroom, unraveling the towel formerly around his head and began to rub his hair dry.

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I passed Junior year! YAAAAY! :D *throws confetti* Anyway, now that that's out of the way, let's go on to the chapter. I'll admit now...my mind was a bit in the gutter when writing this chapter. *covers face* SHAAAAME! D: *clears throat* Ahem...forgive me. xD Now, I hope you all enjoyed the chapter. And thank you to Bourtonfreak13 and SILENTMUSINGS. for reviewing the last chapter! :3