"You're more jittery than normal," AJ says sleepily, pressed into Mike's side. Her hand shifts up his chest, rests against his jaw. "Everything ok?"
"Yeah," he says softly, staring up at the ceiling. "Sorry I woke you. Just... Mania week and all."
"Yeah," she murmurs, blinking some of the sleep out of her eyes. "I get it." She sits up and leans against his shoulder. "Want some breakfast?"
He smiles, enamored all over again with her. "Nah, not right this moment," he decides. "But it is going to be a very rushed, very busy few days, and I have to leave for the airport soon, so..." He leans forward, cards his fingers through her hair, and draws her in for a slow, lengthy kiss that leaves her humming into his mouth. "I love you," he breathes against her and she grins, curling her fingers around his neck.
"I love you too," she sighs, moving to straddle him, examining the expression on his face curiously. "How long are you going to be gone again?"
He blinks, watching her, trying to do the math. "Almost ten days."
"Well," she clucks. "That just will not do. I think you need to make it up to me right now." She kisses him, scraping her teeth over his bottom lip and he shivers.
"Yes, ma'am," he decides with a grin, drawing his hands down her back to grip her hips. "I'll get right on that." And he means it, trailing soft kisses along her sleep-warmed skin as she sighs and watches him, eyes dark and intense.
"I love you," she murmurs, her eyes fluttering at his careful, thorough ministrations.
"I love you too," he breathes against her rib cage and she makes a soft, choked noise that sounds a little like his name, drawing him back up to her face, where he cradles her jaw and kisses her slowly, deeply, exploring her in ways that leave her toes curling against his calves. "So, so much."
-x
John and Mike meet at the airport and there's... something different about John, Mike can't quite put his finger on it but it's there. He looks almost... giddy? Like finally something clicked that'd been missing before. "What's up with you?" he wonders. "You look... oddly jubilant this morning."
"Ah, ya know," he grins. "Sun's shining, day's fresh and new, it's Wrestlemania week, what isn't there to be happy about?"
Mike eyes him. "Right," he drawls slowly, unimpressed by his friend's pleasure. "Well, if you ever decide you wanna share with the class..." John doesn't bite, just continues sipping from his stupidly lengthy named coffee concoction that he swears by that sounds like unmitigated torture to Mike, and Mike exhales roughly, already itching to be done with airports and just... settle in Florida and get this media circus on the road.
Things do change when they get to the arena, however. John seems insistent that Mike come with him for his check in, and Mike trudges along after him although he really just wants to go to his locker room and settle in, prepare for Raw tonight. He has plans, ok? And they don't really involve sitting in a small trainer's area, watching John once more get told Not yet, not yet. Sorry.
But that doesn't happen. The trainer puts John through his paces, watching closely, and ... Mike thinks something crosses his face, a kind of relief? Maybe? John is grinning too, and the trainer shakes his head. "Huh, well, congratulations, John. I'm signing off on this. By all I've seen here, you're cleared for Wrestlemania."
John whoops, throws his fist in the air, and turns to beam at Mike, eyes bright and shining. Mike's jaw drops. "Wait, really?" he asks, amazed. "He... he's good to go?"
"Yep," the trainer says, making a few more notes in his files before turning to look at them. "I'm clearing him for all contact. He can compete whenever he wants."
Mike breathes. This changes everything. He examines John and grins, clapping him on the back roughly. "You knew, didn't you?"
John shrugs. "I thought things were going to go this way, yeah. That's... why I wanted you here."
Mike's grin turns smug. "Well, my friend, now that this is official... wanna go have some fun?"
John smirks. "You know I'm always in, no matter what it is, Mike."
Ok, so running around trying to locate a couple of brushes and painting Bad Bunny's dumb white over-priced mess of a car bright red is probably dumb. Using something with the consistency of a makeup brush isn't Mike's best idea, and he quickly pans it for the option of using his fingers to trail garish red marks all over the car. Beating Bad Bunny down afterwards and escaping with John before Damien Priest can figure out he's needed is the kind of moments Mike enjoys the most sometimes.
But the true icing on the cake is when things work to their advantage- the match gets changed to a tag match and Mike beams at his best friend. "Got 'em," he says and John tips his head back and laughs.
"Hell yeah, we do," he murmurs.