Chapter: 5: Words I Never Said

Author's Note: I was going to update this early, but when I got to where I was staying on the trip I took, I discovered we had no internet! =O! Turns out, this was a really good thing. For the longest time, I've felt like this story was missing a crucial scene. A few days into my trip, I had this dream. Everything seemed to fall into place. Now, the scene opens this chapter. I hope you enjoy. =)

Alex lets out a loud groan, walking into the hotel room and dropping his bags. Mike instantly looks up from his spot on his stomach on the bed, worry filling his eyes. Alex walks over to the bed, leaning down and dropping a kiss on the top of Mike's head before collapsing on his own stomach next to his lover, face down. He feels a hand trailing slowly up and down his back, and he closes his eyes, letting the sensation take over. When Mike bears down a little harder on his hand, Alex knows he lets out a moan of pleasure. He hears Mike chuckle over him before hot breath is dancing across his ear, "Get naked. Let me massage you."

He nods his head and sits up, obeying the older by taking off his shirt. Alex almost feels bad even accepting the treat. He knows his lover wants to have sex, since the sheer pain from practice and the ring have been keeping Alex pretty well out of comission. He can't help it. The way Creative has made him almost as big of a punching bag as Slater (and certainly more of a bitch) has had him constantly exhausted and in pain. He simply hasn't had it in him. The second the warming baby oil Mike keeps with him hits his back, followed by his lover's hands, he knows it's game over tonight, as well. But by then, it's definitely too late for him to stop the older, he figures, so instead, he relaxes into it.

By the time Mike reaches his legs, replacing his hands with his lips every so often, Alex would give anything to have the energy to get up right now and fuck Mike through the mattress. It doesn't come, however, try as he might, and he rolls over, pulling his slighter lover down on top of him. He kisses Mike long and slow, winding a hand into his hair before separating, but still clinging softly to the locks. He lets out a ligh sigh.

"I can't fuck you tonight. I'm sorry." Alex whispers, feeling like an ass even as he says it. "I-I'm just...I'm fucking exhausted. All the time. And I'm just so fucking, fucking sick of it. I'm really, really sorry, baby."

But Mike's smile never wavers. He simply nods in agreement before kissing Alex again. When they part, he has a certain look in his eyes that Alex can't really identify. Then, Mike's voice is hot on his skin again, right by his ear as his low voice mutters, "Then let me make love to you."

And Alex can't even help but nod, moving the hand out of the older's hair and onto the back of his neck as he drags him down into another kiss. He feels complete for the first time in what feels like forever when Mike enters him, and he almost cries in relief. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed being on the receiving end of someone's affections, especially someone who actually cares about him. It's incredible. He moans and whimpers and cries out at certain points, totally in love with the feel of Mike on him, in him. He loves being this close to his lover. Suddenly, Mike's slowing down, a look of concern flashing across his face.

"Baby, what is it? Why are you crying?" the older asks worriedly, swiping a thumb under Alex's cheek.

He reaches up, feels the tears under his eyes for himself,

and wakes up, his fingers wet. He's not even sure what made him cry. He chalks it up to the feeling of being so close to Mike again, even if it was just a dream. He sits up, looking around a bit to try and get a better handle on his surroundings. It takes a moment, but it finally sinks in that while it is still dark, and he is still in a hotel room, Mike Mizanin is most certainly not here. Justin Angel, however, is, arms wrapped around his waist tight. Alex looks down, wiping away the remainder of his tears as a smile crosses his face. At least Justin hasn't left me, he thinks.

Suddenly, Justin shifts in the bed, groaning and nuzzling down almost into Alex's lap. The younger's eyes grow wide, his face growing hot. The last thing he needs right now is Justin waking up and figuring out what kind of dream he was having. He dodges the situation as best he can, sliding back down to lie on his back under the covers. Instantly, the high flyer's arms wrap around him, pulling him in close. Alex grins despite himself, grateful for his friend's affections. He turns to face the older, snuggling down deeper into his embrace. As he drifts back off, the only thine he can really think is, Man, Justin really looks beautiful when he sleeps.

XXXXX

Mike is secretly glad Chris decided to ride with him to Raw when they pull up to the arena just in time to see Justin Gabriel climbing out of the passenger seat of a rental car belonging to one Alex Riley. He tightens his grip on the wheel, locks his jaw and grits his teeth at his ex's smile. The same smile that falls from his face the moment the younger's eyes meet Mike's. Immediately, he sees Alex's eyes fill with hurt he can't mask, and Mike feels like such a douchebag as he forces himself to glare when he passes. He watches in his side mirror as Alex looks away. His glare becomes real as Justin moves closer to the taller man's side.

"Stop gawking and park the damn car." Chris snaps from the passenger seat, ripping Mike back to the task at hand. He mutters under his breath, "Knew I should have been the one to drive."

The younger just rolls his eyes, parking the car swiftly. This is certainly going to be a long night, he thinks.

III

"Oh yea? Justin rode with him to Raw?"

It's not exactly the response Mike had been hoping for from his friend. He'd been calling John to try and get the sympathy Chris was certainly not giving him. John, apparently, is cutting him no slack, either.

"No, to the fucking moon. Of course, to Raw." Mike snaps. He can't help it; he's irritated.

"Well, you did dump him, Mike." John tries to reason with him.

"But it's only been two weeks!" Mike objects. He knows neither of his friends miss the hurt in his voice.

"And he needs a friend, too." John returns. Mike falls silent. He hadn't really thought about that. "You forget, all he's hung out with all this time are your friends."

Mike opens his mouth to argue once more, but can't find the words. John has a point. Thinking back, he can hardly remember a single moment since he walked into the training room at the FCW school that didn't have Alex in it. He'd kind of become the younger's entire world. Unfortunately, by the same token, he'd also apparently destroyed it. Chris notices Mike's silence, however, smirking over at him from where he sits propped in a chair in the corner, feet sat on the table in front of him as he leans back.

"I told you you're an idiot. What'd he say?" Chris inquires, and Mike glares over at him.

"Is that Chris?" John says before Mike has a chance to respond. Then, he's singing, "Hi, Chris!"

"I am not an idiot!" the younger grumbles, looking up as Chris makes his way over to stand above him. He follows it up begrudgingly with, "John says hi."

Before Mike gets the opportunity to say anything further, there's a knock on the door and someone's calling for him to get ready to go out to the ring. His heart drops down to his feet, and an actual whimper makes its way past his lips. He tries desperately to swallow the wave of nausea that's attempting to rise to the surface. Chris's expression does turn sympathetic now, taking the phone from Mike carefully and pulling the younger into his arms.

"You'll be fine. And when you're done, I'm right here. Then we can get the fuck out of here and go relax somewhere, take your mind off it. Okay?" he whispers. Mike manages a nod before shuffling out the door. Once it's shut behind his sulking figure, Chris puts the phone back to his ear, letting out a light sigh.

"He's gonna do something stupid, isn't he?" John asks worriedly.

"Probably." Chris agrees, a sad lilt to his voice. "That's why I'm already here, though. Hopefully it won't be too bad."

"He's being an idiot." John says, a sad smile for his friend on his face that Chris can almost see through the phone.

"It's Mike. Of course he's being an idiot. But it's not like I can convince him of that. He's so damned stubborn." Chris grinds out, dropping down into the chair Mike had just vacated.

"Yea. Just...take care of him, alright? This shit's killing him." John finally mutters.

Chris exhales slowly. "I'll sure as hell try."

III

Mike has never hated being able to read Alex until right now. He wonders if the younger can read him the same. He truly hopes not, because he knows that if Alex can, then he's screwed. Every word he's not saying burns his lips like cyanide. He hates watching the way the ones he does say sting Alex as well.

"There is only one reason I didn't win the WWE Championship last night, and that reason is you, Alex Riley." Because if I didn't love you so damned much, they wouldn't have taken it from me. But it was worth it...

Having to look at his ex hurts too much, and when Alex swipes his hands over his face slowly, as if he's trying to remain calm, Mike has to turn away. He spews lies about the younger and what a screw-up he is, and he can feel Alex start pacing beside him, the boy's glare digging into his skin. Once Josh reads him the cue, that he's done with Cena, he forces himself to get back into character. He knows what he has to do, what he has to say.

This is what you wanted, he reminds himself. This is exactly why you did the damn thing, for this moment right here. You've done it, Mike. Congratulations. Now play your part.

He takes a deep breath, turns slowly, and unleashes on Alex.

"This is all your fault. If it wasn't for you, I would be WWE Champion right now, you worthless waste of space." It's so empty without you in it.

He knows that if Alex is really paying attention (hell, if anyone is), his eyes betray him. Apparently, however, Alex hears his words more than he hears what's behind them. He supposes it's good for the storyline, really sells it, but nevertheless, it makes his eyes glaze with tears to see Alex's own turn from sadness to anger. There's still a level of hurt to them, however, and he knows Alex can tell he's about to cry right here on national television.

And then, "Miz. It wasn't like I was the one who said I Quit."

It's like he's been slapped in the face. He almost recoils at the statement; it hits too close to home. Alex is right. It's his own fault. He didn't have to do it. But, he had, and now here he stands, his goal accomplished, and he can't even be happy about it. He does, however, have to finish the job. He turns slowly to Alex, demands him to repeat himself. He shoves the boy away from him, desperate to try and just get the younger out of his space. Alex is not to be deterred, though, reaching for him. His fingers burn, even through the suit. Mike has to walk away.

He paces the ring, screaming about the younger being nothing more than a coattail rider, worthless without him. He tells Alex angrily about the blown chances, how much of a disappointment he is. When he meets Alex's eyes, finally, he's almost shocked by the boy's expression. He looks like he's waiting for the right moment to say something, like the truth is finally coming out before him, the explanation he'e been waiting to hear from Mike spilling from his lips. Mike hates that it's come to this, that Alex really feels like Mike would dump him, has dumped him, over these lies. But for some reason, he can't shut up.

"I am sick of your mind-numbing stupidity!" I miss your laugh.

Alex looks positively heartbroken and angry, all at once, like he's holding back tears, though he's unsure of which emotion they're from.

"I am sick of your face!" I miss waking up to your face.

Alex clenches his jaw, looks like he's trying not to speak.

"I am sick of you, period!" I want you back.

Alex's face just keeps falling.

"I am done with you!" I love you.

Alex almost flinches. It's as if Mike's kicking him out all over again.

"You are fired!" Please don't hate me.

Alex looks totally crushed, his face a mirror of the night Mike dumped him. Mike feels like he's been kicked, guilt filling his gut. He can't take it.

"Don't you look at me like that. Get out of my face!"

He shoves his ex-lover away, hard. Mike's really not expecting Alex to take it as his cue when the younger swings.