Hey guys, sorry for the slow update. Was stuck on how to continue this whole chapter. But I found a way that had all three of our boys. What can I say, going to see Raw last MOnday inspired me. So here's chapter 4 of VG.

Warning: This story has slight Shotacon (that's when there is sex with little boys, of which would count as any boy not fully gone through puberty or reached legal age). This fiction has angst, weird puberty dilemas, gay and bisexual tendencies, and of course all around good lemony love with all the good tidbits.
Disclaimer: I don't own WWE. Nor do I own any pop culture I mention here, I'm but a poor college student. But most importantly, I don't condone sex with minors. This is pure fiction, of which establishes it as art.


Randy shuffled home after getting his stuff from the Korklan household. He was going back to his life home, with good old mom, dad, and younger siblings.

Of course, Randy had been furious that because high school had started a week before middle and elementary school, that he couldn't go with his parents, brother, and sister, on the trip. But when he found out he was staying with Evan, all was good in the world again. The world was once again just to he, who was, Randy Orton.

Though, now that Randy thought about it, maybe the world wasn't so just after all. Maybe the world was this big fat bitch stuck on her period 365 days a year? Think about it. Sure Randy had gotten a chance to stay with Evan, his secret desire and best friend, but that didn't mean all was good. What the hell was good about getting to sleep next to the boy you are dying to kiss? Randy didn't exactly have the best sense of control over his actions, staying with Evan had seriously put him to a test. What kind of fair world would take a damn horny teenage boy and put him amongst the amazingly cute, kind hearted, darling that was Evan bourne?

I'll tell you what... a total jackass. Randy growled in his mind as he opened the door.

In the small hallway leading to the rest of the house, Randy stuffed his shoes in a closet. The smell of his mom's cooking can already be smelled coming from the kitchen. He took slow steps towards the smell, almost as if under the spell the fantastic cooking put him under. "I'm home," he called as he reached the white tiled floor and sky blue walls of his mother's favorite place in the house.

Randy's mother turned from where she stood at the sove and sent her son a beautiful smile. She wiped her hands on her apron as she hurried over to him. A huge embrace grabbed him and his mother started her rampage of love. "Oh Randy, I missed you so much!" she started. "Never again am I leaving you behind like that. I was worried you weren't getting enough sleep or if you ran out of underwear. I know how shy you are, so I knew you wouldn't ask Mrs. Korklan for any help. And- oh my! I hope you didn't eat the Korklans out of house and home! ...Oh I missed you! Let's get a good look at you."

When she pulled Randy out of the embrace and kept him arms length away, iron grip on his shoulder, she studied his features. He chuckled, embarassed. "Mom, it's only been a week."

She sent him a glare. "Well, you can't tell me not to worry. I know how you can be, Randall."

Randy squirmed from her grasped and cringed. "Oh mom! Don't call me Randall. It sounds like you're punishing me when you say that."

"Not my fault you only hear me call you Randall when you get in trouble..." She smirked, oddly resembling her son, but more womanly. "Which, God knows why, is alot."

Mrs. Orton pulled her son against her again. Randy, being a secret mama's boy, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, already taller then his mother. "How was the trip?" he asked.

His mother sighed. "I wanted to leave you're sister there. She was such a pain. Only just a teenager and already the biggest attitude problem ever."

"Well, mom, no one can compare to my perfection, you know."

Randy's mother laughed whole-heartedly and pinched her son's face. "Yes, you're the perfect son could ever want... if she wanted a trouble maker." She walked back to the stove to stir what ever she was making. "Now how was the first week of school?"

Randy sighed. He sat down at the table, dropping his backpack on the floor beside me. "It's okay. Made some new friends. And I have advisory and gym class with Evan."

Mrs. Orton shook her head softly. "Never understood why that boy demands to be called by a different name." She smiled when she looked back at Randy. "But I'm proud you made new friends. I was starting to think you would only ever hang out with Matthew, Melena, Michael, and that very pale boy -I'm telling you it's not healthy to be that pale."

A snicker left Randy's lips. "His name is Stephen, mom." They were quiet for a second before he said, "Yeah I made a few more friends. There's Adam and Jay and Cody. They like wrestling, too, and are friends with Stephen. And this guy in my math class who help me sometimes. He's cool, I guess."

His mother was smiling beautifully again. She loved when Randy made new friends. He was such an anti-social kind of boy. If it weren't for Matt Korklan, Randy wouldn't get to know anyone at all. "They sound like good guys. You can invite them over sometimes, you know, during vacations or something, when we're not busy."

Just then, Randy's father walked into the kitchen, newspaper in his hand. It was like e never left for a business trip, and actually had been home, doing his daily ritual of reading the newspaper. He looked at his son and nodded his head. "Good to see you, boy." He said. He sat across from Randy with a grunt at his aching back. "How was your time bothering the Korklans?"

Mrs. orton came over and slapped her husband's shoulder lightly. "Oh, Bob, he stays over so much sometimes it's like he lives there anyway. And he knows if he was ever a bother, he'd be in big trouble."

Mr. Orton asked his son the same mindless questions about school like his wife had, but Randy's answers were shorter and slightly inpersonal. He was never very private with his father. The man was nvere one for emotion anyway. Bob Orton was one of those guys who beleive expressing your feelings and being soft was the woman's job. Men were hard, cold, pillars of the household. They were the support to the criers of the house, not the criers themselves.

After a while, Randy pulled out his homework and started finishing his math work, remembering what John had taught him about just putting the numbers into the equation. Needless to say, his parents were surprised to see their son doing homework once he got home, even though it was a weekend. Actually, they were more surprised that he was actually doing homework at all. Randy wasn't one to actually do homework. But Randy wanted to do his homework before he forgot everything he learned. He was actually hoping he wouldn't fail anything this year. Then again, kids always put forth more effort the first week of school. After a month, though, work rate was on a steady fall until exams.

"Honey," His mother called, just as he was finishing up his last math question. "Want to come with me grocery shopping tomorrow morning?"

Before Randy could answer a simple okay, his father spoke up in his gruff voice. There was a hint of disaprovel from his voice. "You're going to end up making the boy into a pansy."

Mrs. orton's eyes narrowed dangerously at her husband. "Bob," she muttered, darkly. Well now we know where Randy's dark moods came from.

"what?" Bob muttered. "All I'm saying is that the kid will end up gay if you keep treating him like a girl. Just take Becky with you."

Mrs. Orton looked like she wanted to break something over her husband's head. "Bob, stop being an idiot. Bringing him with me to get groceries won't make him gay."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, dear," Bob said, sensing the danger standing at the stove.

"Randy," Mrs. Orton said, as sweetly as possible, even though she was still scarily angry. "Tell Nate and Becky that dinner is just about done and to wash up."

Randy had tensed up throughout the whole spat between his parents. He gulped and nodded, getting up to go upstairs and get his brother and sister.

Shit! Did his dad know? Did they know that Randy was starting to question his sexuality? Was it obvious? Did they hear him at night sometimes, his muffled moans calling out the name Evan? Holy crap, that must be why his dad had said that thing about becoming gay. And randy didn't even know if he was becoming gay. Who knew you could just becaome gay! Dammit, it's not like Randy really researched it. Randy wasn't gay. He wasn't gay until proven guilty. ... Wait that's not right. ...Well, whatever! Randy wasn't gay, and he was sticking to the story for now. For now...?

Great now he had a bigger headache then he did when he was in math class.

"Becky," Randy called as he knocked on the 13 year old's door. "Mom said wash up 'cause dinner's almost ready." He barely waited for a reply before going to his brother's room. The door was open and he just leaned against the frame slightly, watching Nate play video games on Playstation 3. "Hey, mom says dinner's almost done and to wash up." Nate numbly nodded as he grashed his car into the wall of a building.

A normal life. A normal family. A normal world. And a not so normal boy. He was the black sheep of this all-american, apple pie eating, football watching, family of 5.


The next morning, Randy and his mother sat in her mini-van, headed for the supermarket. Randy was never one of those kid's that got embarassed at being with his mom, but he was starting to feel it now. He didn't understand why, though. He wasn't exactly going to impress anyone. So who cared if Randy was going shopping with his mom? Oh yeah, right! His reputation as a tough guy, that's what.

"I think we're gonna try that new supermarket, today," Randy's mom said idly, as she took a right onto a new road. "See if the sales are better."

The rest of the ride was silent, soft rock coming from the radio. Randy started to daydream. Nothing specific coming to mind, really. It was one of those blank moments, the kind where your brain shut off and you just stared out at nothing. His mind actually started thinking about 5 minutes after his mom had spoken last. That's when all hell broke loose with awkward thoughts. He started thinking about Evan, and that was all well and normal. But then thoughts of John, that kid in his math calss ventured in. What. The. Fuck? Why was he thinking about John? He barely knew the kid, other than the fact he was a senior who helped him in math class the other day and had helped Evan when that ugly, broken nosed idiot tried to start shit, and he was good looking, with dimples and blue eyes-

WOAH! What the hell! ...Again, the world was not just or fair. The world was a fucking asshole who liked to mess with people. What was this? Payback for all those time Randy had littered? Jesus Christ!


John sighed. He hated work. He hated work alot, actually. The only thing they wanted him to do was stock up the shelves and moves things from the back to the front. He knew he had alot of muscles from wrestling and football, but come on! He didn't want to carry stuff all the time. It's killer on his arms. He had only gotten in an hour ago, and already he was stocking cans of peas on the shelves. But he again sighed. At least he had a job, he reminded himself. Life was tough nowadays, and getting a job had been a horrible experience. And so, as to not risk having to go through the horrendous application/ job hunt process all over again, John Cena kept his comments to himself.

And that was an amazing feet to accomplish. John had a comment for everything. To hold them back was torture. But he would live, especially since the money he was earning was going towards buying a better car then the beat-up Toyota, that had been passed down from brother to brother. God, it sucked having four brothers, most of which were still in Junior high and elementary, only one already graduating college. One brother was enough. Why did he have to have 4? Ah, yes, God liked to fuck with him, that's right.

Let's add more testosterone to his life that was already ruled by muslces, cars, sports, and hairy legs by adding 4 brothers. Add that ontop of the fact that Cena had a secret life of bi-sexuality, and his life was a total contradiction of itself. Thanks, God. Nothing said manly like having wet dreas about sucking another guys dick. Yeah, that'll sit well with his 4 brothers and his father. Lord knows how Mrs. Cena even did it. But truth be told, she was the strongest in the family. She was able to hold a household of men and make in look like not a single one of them lived their piggish lives in her clean home.

A buzz was felt from his pocket. It was another text message. But John had to be careful, if he was caught texting on the job again, he'd be mopping the floor all next week. And so, John let the text slide. He'd answer it during break. If it was important they'd know to contact the store. And what could be so important anyway? His eldest brother's wife wasn't pregnant and so it's couldn't be anything like that. So, nothing important was going on around his life to bother him at work. ... God, he wished there was. He needed a distraction from this tedious crap.

Then again, this was the only time Cena actually had time to think about other stuff. He was usually thinking of lines for his songs. But today he wasn't feeling it. He was tired this morning. After skipping class, Killings, Hennigan, and him went cruising around the city. After a bite to eat at Burger King, he had gone home, to have his mother and father on his back for skipping. Who knew the school would call that fast? It didn't help his case that when they asked what he had been doing he lifted up a doggy bag of a whopper and fries and said "Having it my way...?" They weren't as amused as John's brothers had been.

So John had ended up grounded for a week, menaing straight home after work and school. He was lucky to still have his phone and to have not gotten a beating for being a smartass. They say love hurts, but sometimes he thought his mother loved him too much when he did something he wasn't supposed to. Back in MA when he was younger, he had tried practicing his swing for little league... in his room. Not a good ending, as you can guess. A few spanks from his mother and Cena never played sports in the house ever again, other than Madden... and even that was pushing it a bit, the way he got mad when he lost.

Turning back to get more cans to put up, JOhn caught the figure of a tall and lean young boy that he had seen alot at school, to his pleasure. The cold blue eyes were softer as he talked lightly with a middle aged lovely woman beside him. Well if that was his mother, John now knew who Randy had gotten his good looks from.

As if sensing the stare, Randy looked up and two pairs of blue hues locked. He kept walking to John, even though his mother had stopped to grab some canned foods. John grinned at him, showing off his dimples.

Oh yeah. John knew how his dimples made girls giggle in lust. He was hoping the same affect would take place in Randy...though he highly doubted Randy would giggle, of course.

"Hey man," John said, grinning still. His eyes were almost twinkling with the joy he was feeling. God had answered his call for a distraction! "Out shopping?"

Randy rolled his eyes. "No, I thought I would liven up my Saturday morning by coming to the store and killing everyone over the age of 5."

John laughed. "Why 5?"

Randy smirked. He turned his head to the side, as if he suddenly became amused by the shelves of cans. "I thought I would be nice, today."

"Let me never get on your bad side," John said, smirking also. "You're sarcasm sounds like it could be true at some point."

Randy let out a small chuckle. "Don't worry, I'll kill you last."

"Thanks, I think." John shook his head and turned to Randy after setting down the cans he still had in his hand. "So how'd you do with the rest of the math homework?"

"Not bad, I probably got some wrong, though." Randy muttered. He turned back to his watch his mother pull the cart up to them.

John smiled brightly. "And is this your older sister?" John asked, holding out his hand to shake.

Mrs. Orton giggled at the statement and at how handsome John was. "Oh no! I'm Randy's Mother." She took the hand and smiled.

John nodded. "I'm John, I go to school with Randy."

"Oh! Well, hopefully you can make sure Randy does his work and stays out of trouble, then."

John grinned again. Both Randy and his mother were dazzled at the handsome face, not that anyone would notice Randy's gaze. He kept it well hiden. "Don't worry, Ma'am," John said. "I'll keep an eye on him."

Randy rolled his eyes again. He should really learn to ot do that, it was an ugly habit. "Cme on mom, we should get going. I'm meeting up with Evan later."

John chuckled as he said, "Don't be rude, we were talking." The way Randy bristled at the comment had his mother laughing. "Well, I should get back to work anyway. It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Orton."

"Same to you," John replied. "See you Monday," he said to Randy as the mother and son walked away. And as they walked, John couldn't help let his eyes fall to the way Randy shook his hips as his walked.

John wondered if Orton knew he walked with this slow swagger. Then again, he wasn't complaining at all.


Evan woke up late that morning, enjoying the extra hours of sleep no school had provided. Sadly, he knew his sleep could no longer be prolonged with the feel of that hard pain between his legs.

This wasn't the first time. Actually boys tend to have hard ons from the time they were babies. Weird isn't it? The fact a child could have a boner. It's because when the the body's relxed it's easier for... that to happen.

But when Evan started going through puberty, he suddenly became aware of how embarassing and awkward it really was. He was just happy that when Randy was over, one of them would change in the bathroom and the other in the room. It saved awkward moments from happening. Because let's face it, Evan was a growing boy, but to compare himself to another boy, who happens to be growing more, and faster, was just plain out mental suicide.

Just a way to fuck up a friendship. It's the he has a bigger dick, I can't be his friend to protect my manliness! mentality of men. And so Evan sort of found it a blessing he didn't have to show his face...or more, his rod, to his best friend. It saved him the stress and pressure to want to grow up quickly.

But, Dear Lord, this was hurting. How could an apendage of a dormant body harden like this? Science be damned! Evan beleived it had to be unnatural to be like this. Was the fact his body was taking it's sweet time to grow, having a side effect on him where he becomes aroused easier? Evan sighed. Life was confusing! How was he supposed to know if what was going on with him was right? He sure as hell wouldn't ask anyone, that's what the internet was for. But the more he read the internet for information on what he was going through... the more he felt sick about it.

Evan couldn't help wonder if Randy was going through all this shit too. Was that weird? Was it weird to wonder if you're best friend was doing, thinking, experiencing such intimate subjects? Was it weird to want to ask him questions but know that he'd just humiliate himself and Randy if he did? Was Evan just plain out weird? God! Evan cried, mentally. This was torture! He shouldn't ever think like this. Forget other people. Focus on yourself! Randy's a big boy with his own problems, Evan didn't want to bother him with his aggrivatingly private questions.

What could he do? Go up to Randy and ask, "Hey, man, question but did your sack tighten around your balls and redden?" Yeah, that's nice. Talk about an opening conversation in the morning. Evan rolled his eyes. He was being stupid. Here he was thinking about Randy and personal, embarrassing, awkward, penis questions, when really he should be taking care of his problem. Evan knew he should quickly fix it, since his mother, embarrassing as she was with Randy, liked to come in his room unannounced, saying it's okay, there wasn't anything she hadn't seen before. Evan really had to control himself from yelling back at her "Yes, mom! There is something you haven't seen! You haven't seen the fact your son is trying to jerk himself and your in his space! Get out!" But Evan could swear he'd get back handed for yelling such a thing at her. But screw it! He'd say it one day if she continued.

He crawled from under his sheets, body hitting the room's cooler air. His blue striped boxers were tented. And he couldn't help feel sad. Hey! He couldn't help it, okay! He felt sad for the fact that he looked so small.

He felt like his...size... was that of a child's still.

He felt that, he as a whole, was still a child. Damn his crappy genes. His parents weren't tall, nor his grandparents. He knew he wouldn't be 6 foot like Randy was. He'd be lucky to even get close. Sigh, and sigh again.

Life sucked. God must hate him or something, right?

At this point, he was contemplating putting on some fancy tuxedo costume with a cape, put a white half-face mask on, and play the organ under an Opera house in France. That's how embarassed he was of his own body. He was a short, scrawny kid, with contacts, baggy clothes, and a love for jumping off high places and doing flips. He was a freak. ...And just to point out, Evan was made to watch the Phantom of the Opera by his mother a year ago. He did not want to watch it at all and found the chick complete stupid for picking the rich douchebag. ... Then again, Evan did feel sympathy for the poor Phantom, his fellow freak.

When Evan's (cough) problem... was gone, it took mere minutes to dress and be bounding down the stairs.

"Mom, Dad, I'm going out with some friends." Evan said as he sat on the couch pulling on the sneakers he had grabbed on his way by the door.

His father came into the room, a tiny frown on his stress leathered face. "Which friends would those be?"

"Randy," Evan responded, grinning at his dad as he tied his laces. "We might meet up with Mike and Stephen, too."

His dad nodded and sat on the cushy chair adjacent to his son. "What you boys thinking of doing today? More wrestling or something new?" The smirk on Mr. Korklan's face showed Evan he was mocking the fact that all Evan and his friends ever did was wrestle. Which might as well be true. Other then wrestling, they bet on things, and Evan would never tell his dad that. His dad would be pretty annoyed that Evan was betting on stuff... and not letting him join in. Evan's dad was pretty cool. Even though in school he was a strict teacher, at home he was like a friend.

They say, fathers must remember that they aren't their kids' friend. But Mr. Korklan managed both. He could still act like the dad, but he was fun with his sons. He would bet, watch wrestling with them, make jokes, like he, too, was a teenager. Though really, he was an overworked department head at the high school he taught at. Evan had major respect for his dad. He was someone to look up to with his happy smiles and strict frowns.

"Wrestling," Evan laughed. He stood and grabbed a light fall jacket, just in case it went cold later on his way home. "I might try some new tricks today."

Evan's dad looked at him with a pensive look. "Are you going to eat with the boys or come back for dinner?"

Evan grinned at his father. "I'll get a bite with the guys."

"Okay, I can't stop you, I guess. Just be careful, I don't want you calling us at dinner time from the hospital. Your mother would kill me...and then kill you."

"Got it, dad!" Evan was jogged to the door, grabbing his house key. Out the door he was in seconds, his father shaking his head, amused, left behind in the house.

Evan quickly grabbed his bike from the garage. He didn't bother with helmets or the such. His mother always said to wear gear, but it was so uncomfortable. And how cool could Evan look wearing some big helmet as he rushed passed the skate park towards Stephen's house. He knew Randy would already be heading over there, his mother dropping him off. That's how it always happened. Evan would ride his bike to where they were going to meet up and Randy's mom would drive her son. It made Evan snicker. Randy completely hated it. His mother drove him everywhere. Evan wouldn't be surprised that, when senior prom comes around, Mrs. Orton forces Randy to be driven by her.

Merrily on his Way past the usual scenery. Evan was calm and relaxed, thought of his morning wood and morning stress gone for the day. It were times like themes that made Evan not feel so insecure. While he felt the wind blow against him, the flying sensation lifting his spirits.

Flying. Free. Away from all his problems. Airbourne!


Stuart's eyes narrowed. He was sitting on the back of his nice chevy truck, leaning back, relaxed. Until he saw a familiar kid, a few blocks away, riding a bike down the street.

Around him, his friends looked at him with questioning looks. "What's wrong?" Otunga, the group's newest member, asked.

Bennett motioned his head at the boy. A scowel crossed his face. "I can't stand that kid. You see how he stood up to me. It was as if you thought he even had a chance. Absurd," he growled.

"You know, Stuart," one of the others said, a simple smile gracing his stupid face. "Your accent comes out more when you're pissed."

"He has an accent?" Otunga asked. "I thought he just talked proper."

Bennett glared at him. "It's 'spoke proper' and I'm british, you oblivious idiot."

They were quiet for a few moments before Stuart spoke again. A devious smirk settled on his usually pursed lips. The muscles in his jaw clenched. "That kid will be in a trash can in no time. That pathetic excuse for a kid will know that he can't mess with us."

The others looked at eachother, then watched as Matt Korklan disappeared onto another road. And all at once they smirked, too. They were going to have fun fucking around with that kid. Pushing him until Stuart felt so much pity for him, that he would throw the kid in the trash just to save him anymore agony. You were either with them or against them.


"Really? Really? ... Really?"

"Oh my God, Mike, Shut up!" Evan sighed.

They had just spent hours at Stephen's house practicing wrestling moves. Now, almost five at night, the sun was lowering and they were all hungry. But Evan was so intent on landing this move he's been working on perfecting for a long time, The Shooting Star Press. Which of course had Miz as restless as ever. He was starving and Evan was taking his nice sweet, god damn time!

Randy sighed. "You know he won't let us get out of here until he lands this on Stephen just right." He smirked looking up as Evan stood, balanced high above the ground on the turnbuckle of Stephen's backyard ring.

Mike rolled his eyes. "He just has to show off that he can jump and flip. Jerk!" Mike turned his attention to Evan again. "Hurry up! I'm too awesome to wait for you!"

Evan laughed a little at Mike. Mike was such a douche bag, but he was entertaining to listen complain all the time.

Then, Evan went quiet and poised. He took a deep breath, looking up at the setting sun, eyes squinting a bit. He was going to do it this time. This was going to be the day Evan managed to land his favorite move. His dark eyes lowered to Stephen who looked at him, both anticipation and waiting in his eyes, the sweat on his flushed white face causing a shimmering tone.

And Randy watched his best friend jump fowarded, into the air. Quickly, he did a backflip while still in mid-air, his torso stretching back beautifully, arms stiffly angled back. Then his body slapped onto Stephen's and echoing loud thud filling the awed Orton and Mizanin. Stephen groaned and Evan "went for the pin", Randy counting 1-2-3 loudly. Evan stood and jumped up, grinning like a fox. He did it! He finally got it!

Randy heard Mike utter an amazed "wow," before he called out with an annoyed voice, "Okay, we're down, let's go to Taco Bell now now. Jesus Christ!"

Evan knew he would end up bruised from where he connected with freaky pale friend, but he was too overjoyed to care. He extended his hand for the grumbling Stephen. "You okay?" Evan asked as Stephen took the hand and pulled himself up off the sweat, blood, spittle stained mat.

"I'll live, fella." Stephen said, voice low. He took some much needed breaths before patting his small friend on the shoulder. "That was great. You'll really knock me dead one day."

"Sorry," Evan said, though his voice wasn't a bit remorsefull. "I'll try not to kill you, next time."

"Next time..." Stephen groaned.

They exited the ring and went over to Randy and Mike. Slowly they got their stuff and went off to the Taco Bell a few blocks from Stephens house. Thank God he lived near a busy avenue that had fastfood restaurants and small stores. If it wasn't for that, they would ahve starved. Stephen's mother only cooked traditional Irish food... And, uh, once per year on Saint Patrick's day is enough for Mike, Evan, and Randy.


Evan was on his way home in the night air. After eating and hanging out at Stephen's house for a little while more, Randy's mom picked him up and Miz made his walk home soon after. Evan was there a little longer, watching the rest of this WWE video Stephen had. But it was close to 8 and Evan knew if he didn't get home soon, his mom would start the worrying. Though his parent's usually gave until 9 on weekends, Evan knew well that his mother was this huge mother hen.

He was in his own thoughts, still musing over the fact he had landed the shooting star press, a move he had dubbed "Airbourne." It fit didn't it? Evan "Air" Bourne! He could just imagine the ring announcer's booming voice calling out "On his way to the ring, from Saint Louis, Missouri, Evan 'Air' Bourne!"

It was a magical thought.

And then Bam! Evan was hit!...

Okay he wasn't actually hit. It's just that a car had sped by him and the force of the wind it brought with it's cruddy horsepower and the fact Evan wasn't apying attention had Evan thrown off his bike and landing on the sidewalk.

The car stopped with a loud screech and a buff man came rushing out of it. JOhn Cena, stepped at Evan's side looking down at him with worried eyes. "Oh man! I'm sorry! Did you get hurt-" The John noticed it was Evan. He sighed and gulped a deep breath of air. He spoke again, voice still shakey from the adrenaline of potentially running over someone. "You know, we should really stop meeting like this."

Evan smirked at John's attempt to lighten the situation. "I'm okay. Don't worry it wasn't all your fault, I wasn't paying attention."

John smiled, dipples making their usual appearence. "That's how we met eachother the last time, too."

"True." Evan said, taking John's hand to stand up. He grabbed his bike up from his side and looked up at John's tall and muscular form. ""But, it also doesn't help that I didn't put in my contacts today."

"Tsk, tsk, Evan," John teased. "Driving with out your proper eyewear could get you in dangerous accidents."

Evan grinned. "Well, mom, I didn't think a-" Evan squinted at the near by, stilling turned on, car. "crappy toyota would come speeding by, causing me to fall."

John shook his head. "Well you should have," said he, with a faux scolding voice. After a second, John sighed. "You really okay, man? I don't feel like finding out Monday morning that you died in the hospital after falling off your bike due to a young, handsome, and reckless driver went by you, about 10 miles over the speeding limit."

"You're pretty descrpitive," Evan said, amused and bemused all the same.

"I know," John said. "I have a true talent for overacting at times. It comes with the package. I play football, wrestle, rap, and over act." John smirked before turning his face to the side and giving a overly dramtic sad face, saying, "But I never learned how to read!"

Evan laughed hysterically. John cracked a wide grin, liking the sight of Evan's laughing face.

"Alright man, how about I give you a ride home," John offered. "It's the least I can do for knocking to the floor."

"Ground."

John gave a questioning look at Evan. "Huh?"

"I fell to the ground, no the floor," Evan corrected with a smile. "But, maybe I should go easy on you, since you never learned how to read and all." John shrugged with a grin, almost innocently. Evan then said, "If you can fit my bike into your car, I'll take up your offer."

John started walking to his waste of metal, shitty Toyota. Evan followed, leading his bike at his side to the passenger side. The older boy smirked again. "If I can stuff my 3 little brothers in the back seat, I bet I can fit your bike."

And that he did. John HAd the bike nicely put in the Toyota, somehow. It was amazing, it happened so quickly and skillfully. Evan wondered if having 3 little brothers, as John had said, really gave one the brains to figure out how to fit a pretty good bike in a beat up small four-door sudan. Evan hopped in the passenger seat, JOhn climbing behind the wheel.

"Where were you headed?" John asked. Evan told him the address of his house and John nodded, knowing how to get to that street since Hennigan lived a street down. Before pulling away from the curb, John pulled out his cell phone. "Excuse me," he said, politely, to Evan before calling someone. "Hey, Dan, put mom on the phone. ...No, I'm not calling because I'm being arrested. ...Dan put Mom on the phone or I'll tell her about your secret stash of hardcore porn in your closet under the blanket Grandma made you."

Evan held in his giggles as he saw John roll his eyes at first before, smirking like the devil.

"You think I didn't know about them?" John Continued to his brother. "Dan, I'm your older brother, it's my job to kow if you have better porn then I do. ...Which by the way, Horny Housewives part 4, I'm borrowing that, thanks." John laughed before stopping dead as he heard his mom's voice. "Hey mom. ...Is it okay if I give my friend Evan a ride home?...Yes- yes- but, Yes ma'am. I know being grounded means straight home, but I wasn't going to just leave him to walk home. It's 8:30 and he's only 14. ...Okay. Yes, Ma'am, straight home after. Thanks, mom. See you soon."

After john hung up the phone, he gave Evan a sheepish smile. "Sorry about that. Had to make sure it was cool with my mom."

Evan was still giggling when he spoke. "Don't worry about it. ...So, Horny House Wives part 4, huh?"

John made a surprised shrug. "I have no clue how he get such good porn! He's only 13. I think my older brother gave him his collection before we moved down here."

"How many brotehr's do you have?" Evan asked, shocked to hear about another brother.

John began to drive, leaning back in his seat comfortably. "Four," he replied. "One older then me, 3 younger."

"Geez, I thought having one brother was bad.," Evan muttered.

"It is," John smirked. "Having 4 is like training to be in the FBI. You have to be sneaky, tough, and know how to expertly pick the locks to your brother's trunk, where he keeps his porn under the quilt Grandma made him. Poor, Nana. If she knew what her hard work was hiding, she would have a heart attack."

Evan couldn't help laugh. "That's horrible!"

After a few minutes of silence, John asked Evan what he did today. Evan simply replied with, "Prowrestling with my friends."

"Is that how you got so good at all those flips you showed in gym yesturday?" John asked, turning the wheel to Evan's street.

"Yep. No other thing I would rather do then try to Enzugiri someone." Evan, then, pointed at a house a block away, idly mentioning that was his house.

"Okay, killer, I'm never wrestling you, if you enjoy kicking people in the head," John chuckled.

They stopped infront of the house. Evan removed his belt and got out of the car. John joined him on the passenger side to help take the bike out from the backseat.

"Thanks for the ride," Evan said, bumping his fist against John's.

"No problem," John said, smiling, full dimples on view. "Any time I accidently blow you off your bike, I can give you a ride."

Evan grinned and took the bike up the drive way to his garage. He looked back over his shoulder. "And that's what she said."


Phew! Finally over with this chapter. It took forver. But I seriously jumped back on the train to write when someone facebooked me about the story. Remember folks, I check the Facebook, regularly.
Hopefully, I'll update soon. I was going to get this Beta-ed but I thought you all suffered enough of a wait. Excuse all my horrible mistakes. Review! Review! Review!

Love Natsuki Lee