"Cena, if you don't want to tell me exactly what's got your panties in a twist, then that is fine with me." Tom was almost at the end of his rope. "But I don't appreciate being dragged away from a poker game just to watch you pace."

"Go back to your game, then. I can deal with this myself." John answered his voice hoarse with emotion.

"Liar." Tom muttered, half to himself and half to John. "If you could, you'd already have it solved."

"So you say."

"Yeah, so I say." Tom retorted, smirking. "Oh well." Tom sat down on his bed and stared at John.

After five minutes of just being stared at, Cena could take it no longer. "Do you mind?"

"Not really." Tom answered, calmly with a hint of sarcasm. "I won't be able to get my seat back for at least another hour, so this is it. Either you decide to talk or I'll just keep glarin' at ya."

Cena stared back, trying to intimidate Tom. It wasn't working.

"Okay, I can figure this out." Tom replied "What do I know for sure?"

"Nice try." Cena sneered

"I ain't the one who had to drag his roommate away from a card game to have a staring contest with." Tom restated. "Since you are obviously alone, I am going to assume that you and Trish had a meltdown. You got me just after midnight so I will also assume that you probably got a room somewhere to talk."

"If that's what you want to call it." John thought. Not talking had been mistake number one.

"Talk… no." Tom stated "You two got physical, didn't you? That's it… you got hot and sweaty and something went wrong. What'd you do? Scream my name when you came?"

John said nothing.

"Are you fuckin' shitting me?"

"I didn't mean to." John sighed "It's just… I don't even wanna explain it."

"I don't blame you. That is awkwardness on a scale I don't want to think about."

"It would've been worse if I had bothered to stick around."

"You mean you came and went?" Tom couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"I put on my pants and came back here. I was going to the game and hope I could forget, but when I saw you there…"

"Lord, Johnny. You sure can find ways to complicate things." Tom sighed, and then suddenly chuckled. "Was it just at the end or were you thinking about me the whole time?"

"Do you really want me to answer that?"

"You can't weird me out any more than I already am." Tom shrugged

"Then yes. I couldn't even get hard without thinking of the first handjob you gave me. The only way I could finish was fantasizing about you fucking me through the mattress or the other way around."

"Fucking me through the mattress?" Tom smirked again. John went week in the knees. There was something about that smirk that totally turned him on.

"Or me fucking you through the mattress. It was hot, either way." It was Cena's turn to smirk.

"Sounds like an interesting fantasy, but I don't fuck or get fucked through a mattress." Tom sighed "But, since I've probably lost my seat for at least another hour, I will make love to you."

Tom closed the gap between their bodies with one step and put his hand on the back on John's neck. Cena moved his head closer until he could feel Tom's breath on his face. He closed his eyes and waited for Tom to make the first move and was not disappointed when he felt their lips meet. It was unlike his last kiss with Trish. It was soft, tender, and there was nothing forced about it.

Unlike when he made out with Trish, John allowed Tom to take the full lead and he was not disappointed. They kissed for a long time, alternating between small pecks and tongue-wrestling smooches until Tom finally pulled away.

"Fuck man, if that's how you kiss…" Tom gasped

"Thanks, but you definitely got to me as well." John sighed

"I can see that." Tom pulled John in for another round, but Cena had other ideas. He pulled the older man into a full bodied embrace and quickly laid Tom on the bed.

"Why, John… I never knew you had it in ya." Tom fluttered his eyelashes and spoke in an exaggerated southern accent.

"Until I met you, neither did I." John answered "I still can't figure out what I'm doing, but…"

"John, I don't think you can figure it out, but we can deal with the ramifications later. For now…"

Cena understood what Tom meant and once more locked lips with him, cutting off the rest of Tom's sentence.

Tom moaned deeply. Despite having a lot more experience with man on man action, he found that he was spiraling toward a point of total loss of control with an alarming speed. He normally did not go for the jock 'type' (other than a few random fumbles aboard ship before he'd met Jason), but there was something about John. He couldn't put his finger on it, but there was definitely chemistry.

Unfortunately chemistry, as is often the case, gets trumped by fate. Just as Tom was going to take things a lot further, there was a rapid pounding on the cabin door.

"Fuck." Tom gasped "You wanna get it?"

"Would you? I got such a bone-on right now." Cena wriggled against Tom to prove his point.

"What makes you think I don't?" Tom mock-griped, but quickly slid out from underneath to get the door. "It's probably just one of the guys from the game. I'll get rid of him as soon as… ow!"

While speaking, Tom had opened the door and immediately got punched in the jaw for it.

"What the fuck?" Tom took half-a-step back before he saw who had socked it to him. "How the hell did you get here?"

"None of your damn business." Trish replied, pushing past Tom and barging into the room.

"None of my damn business?" Tom rubbed his jaw. "Lady, you barge into my room, interrupting, uh, stuff, then you punch me in the face and say it's none of my business? If we were back in Los Angeles, you'd be learning the hard way that having a vagina does not make you invincible."

Trish glared at Tom and cocked her fist as if to punch him again. John stepped between them and grabbed her hand, blocking the next swing.

"Trish, if you have a problem with me that's fine. But do not blame Tom for this."

"Like he's so fucking innocent." Trish shot daggers at Tom. "Next thing you'll tell me is that you begged him to do things to you."

Tom rolled his eyes at her. "Far be it from me to put my ugly mug where it isn't wanted, so I'm going back to the poker game. You know where I'll be when you finish with this mess."

The moment the room was empty except for the two of them, Trish turned on her soon to be ex-boyfriend.

"Did you ever really love me?" She put her hands on her hips and stared at John, now shooting the daggers in his direction. "Or have you been using me to convince yourself that you are not a faggot!"

John flinched at the f-word. "Trish, you knew about my past when we first hooked up and you were okay with it then. Why are you now being such a… a… a bitch about it?"

"A bitch?" Trish repeated, as if the word was foreign to here. "After all I've put up with? After all I've done for you? How can you say that, Johnny?"

John flinched a second time at the use of her pet name for him. "What have you done for me? That's a joke, babe, and you know it. Where the fuck were you when I was stuck in a Costa Rican jail? I tried calling you from the ship at least a dozen times and every time I got that stupid ass message on your voice mail? Fuck, did you even listen to them?"

Trish paled. She had heard the messages, but at the time she thought it was one of John's twisted pranks.

"Seriously, what have you done for me lately?" John continued his rant, but was in for a surprise when Trish responded.

"Who do you think tossed that bitch overboard?" Trish asked

John was stunned. Either by the revelation or the deadpan way she said it, he wasn't sure.

"You what?"

Trish shrugged. "It wasn't that hard to do, really. This ship isn't as secure as some people think."

"But… but how did you get on board?"

"Johnny, do you really want me to answer that." Trish's smile was one hundred percent sugar and just as much evil. "You know what this means, don't you?"

John blinked twice in confusion.

"It means that if you don't immediately stop this fooling around with Tom, I will be going to the authorities and telling them exactly what I did, but guess what else I will be telling them?"

"What? That I told you to do it?"

"You got it. Johnny, you're not as stupid as I thought you were. Face it; you're mine now… all mine."

Cena was shocked. He could not believe that this was the same girl that less than a day ago he had been trying to lay.

"Not a word of this to Tom, either." She grinned even more viciously.

John gulped. The next three months were gonna be hell.

...

"Spot's open, Hardy." Miz pointed to the lone empty seat. "Reso busted out last hand."

Tom looked at the stack of chips he'd set off to the side. "Can you hold it for five minutes? I left something back in my room."

"Sure. Five minutes."

Tom ran back down the hallway. He really hadn't left something in his room, but he was curious as to how his roommate was faring. To his surprise, the room was empty.

"Musta kissed and made up." Tom looked around. He was just turning to leave when he heard a squealing sound and an audible 'click'.

"What the… shit!" Tom headed for the source of the sound. It appeared to be coming from somewhere on his bed. He rummaged through the covers and pillows until he found what had made the noise. It was his portable tape recorder; one he used to record lectures in the courses that he wasn't getting an A. Tom found that he could either listen to the lecture or take notes, but not both. Especially in Dr. Farrelly's class.

"Thing must've fallen out of my pocket while John and I were havin' fun. I better reset it for tomorrow."

Tom rewound it, expecting to hear an Irish brogue as the last voice, but the squeaking was a lot higher-pitched. He pressed play and caught the end of the argument between John and Trish.

"…stop this fooling around with Tom, I will be going to the authorities and telling them exactly what I did, but guess what else I will be telling them?"

"What? That I told you to do it?"

"You got it. Johnny, you're not as stupid as I…"

Tom rewound the tape a second time and listened to everything that had been said between the two of them. He chuckled.

"No babe, I have you right where I want you." He lay back on his bed and laughed for a good ten minutes before removing the cassette and hiding it in his lockbox. "For once, someone else fucked up."

As if nothing had happened, Tom returned to the poker game and spent the next seven hours alternately plotting against Trish and cleaning out the other players. All was right in the world of Tom Hardy, but how long would it last? Who knew.