"You have to tell someone." Morrison said sharply, a deep frown on his handsome face, "I don't care if it's Hunter, John, Vince, or Stephanie…you cannot let him get away with that."
He and Randy were standing in the elevator side by side. The walk out the gym, through the lobby and finally onto the elevator was awkward, with both men remaining silent the entire time. After Wade had left Randy had hurriedly scooped up his shirt and his gym bag, and then Morrison lead him out of the gym. He didn't know why Morrison was helping him, didn't know why he hadn't left already, why he seemed determined to accompany Randy all the way back to his room…but frankly, at this point, Randy was still in shock over what had just happened. He'd always thought Wade was a violent, manipulative bastard…but he never would've guessed he'd go this far. Randy felt sick to his stomach when he thought about what would've happened if Morrison hadn't shown up…his skin already felt dirty just from being touched by the leader of the Nexus, he didn't want to think about how awful he would've felt if things had gone further. Fuck…just the thought of Wade being sexually interested in him made Randy want to run screaming in the opposite direction. He wasn't a fearful person, wasn't really afraid of anything…until now. When he'd seen that dark, determined gleam in Barrett's haunting eyes…he knew that the English man wasn't going to take no for an answer. As he looked in Wade's eyes, Randy knew that Barrett had made up his mind: he wanted Randy Orton, and nothing—not even Randy himself—would stop him from getting what he wanted. Any other man might've given up once they'd seen their interest wasn't reciprocated…but not Barrett. Judging from the disgusting hardness Randy had felt between Wade's legs, the guy got off on hurting him…
After the elevator doors had shut behind them, Morrison had finally broken the silence.
"It's not that simple—" Randy sighed tiredly, reaching up to rub his eyes with the back of his hand. His gym bag was in one hand and his white, sweaty shirt was in the other.
"Not that simple?" Morrison turned, giving Randy an incredulous look, "Randy…he's attacked you like five times already! And now he's taking it even further…I mean, what the hell would you have done if I hadn't been there?"
"I…I would've figured something out." Randy growled, though his voice was pitchy and unconvincing, almost like he didn't even believe himself.
"Randy…he already had you pinned down." Morrison's voice was almost pleading, his scowl turning into a sad frown, "You can't let him get away with this. If you don't do anything, he's going to think you're just going to let it happen…how far are you going to let him take this until you finally do something about it?"
"I was fighting back!" Randy hissed angrily, turning to look at Morrison, forcing himself to meet his eyes, "It wasn't like I was just laying there taking it!"
"Oh, yeah, that was working real well." Morrison snorted as he rolled his eyes, "Randy, you need to start taking this seriously—"
"Look, don't get me wrong, I'm glad you came in to save the day, but you're not even my friend." Randy snapped, looking away from Morrison, "It's not your job to stand there and try and tell me what to do."
Morrison hesitated, opening his mouth to reply, but then he seemed to think better of it. He clamped his lips together, turning and looking away from Randy, his brown eyes focusing on the increasing numbers lit above the doors of the elevator. They were only on floor two…Randy was already pissed and they still had three more to go.
"Ok, you're right." Morrison sighed, his voice quiet and reasonable, "It's not really my place to be telling you what you should or shouldn't do. I just…I know that Wade isn't going to give up, and I'm worried about what's going to happen the next time he catches you alone."
"I can take care of myself." Randy growled, looking at Morrison out of the corner of his eye.
"Randy, it's ok to ask other people for help." Morrison sighed once again, crossing his arms against his red shirt, "You know Hunter or John or…hell, even Ted or Cody or Adam would jump to help you out if they knew Barrett was doing this to you."
"Yeah, right. Look, I don't need to be bothering them with my shi—" Randy suddenly went quiet in mid-sentence, turning to look at the Shaman of Sexy, his icy blue eyes filled with suspicion, "Wait…John?"
"Come on Randy," Morrison gave him a small, knowing smile, "I'm in the room right next to you. Every time you guys fuck it's like listening to a really loud porno."
"We…we wanted to keep it a secret." Orton turned again, his eyes dropping to the floor, cheeks flushing a bright pink.
"Yeah, I got you." Morrison reached up, placing a hand on Randy's bare shoulder, "But you know he'd want to know about this. He wouldn't want you to keep this a secret…especially since he could help protect you."
"I don't need fucking protection." Randy grumbled, though his voice was already carrying the sound of defeat.
"Look, today made it very clear that you can't handle Barrett on your own—and that's ok, it doesn't mean you're weak or anything." Morrison continued eagerly, realizing that Randy was finally about to give in, "What would be worse: swallowing your pride and telling John that Wade's crossed the line…or keeping it to yourself and getting cornered by Wade again? Except the next time it happens I probably won't be there to help you…do you even want to think about what he would've done to you if you two were left alone?"
"If I tell John he'll probably freak out and end up doing something stupid." Randy sighed with exasperation. The elevator suddenly halted, letting out a loud pinging sound as the metal doors slid open, revealing the fifth floor. Randy and Morrison both stepped out, turning right and heading down the hall.
"You still should tell him." Morrison persisted, having to practically jog to keep up with Randy's long strides, "If he finds out you hid this from him he'll get very upset."
"Barrett's just trying to scare me." Orton hissed as they came to a halt in front of his door, "If I go crying to John about it then Barrett wins—"
"Randy." Morrison reached out, placing both hands on either of Randy's shoulders, forcibly turning the much taller man to look him in the eye, "Barrett isn't just trying to scare you. You know what he was going to do to you…and you know he's not going to give up. Do you want him to have his way with you?"
"No! Of course not!" Randy shook his head vehemently.
"Then you need to take some actions to protect yourself." Morrison dropped his hands from Randy's shoulders, leaning against the wall as Randy pulled his keycard out of his pocket, "You can start by telling John that Barrett's interested. I'm sure he'll do whatever he can to make sure Barrett doesn't get his hands on you."
"Fine, whatever." Randy huffed in defeat, sliding his card through and pushing the door open, "Are you done?"
"You promise you'll talk to John about it?" Morrison asked, giving Randy a hard stare.
"Yeah…yeah. I'll talk to him. He'll probably be asking about this anyway." Randy finished by reaching up and tapping his lip, where a drop of blood was seeping from a tiny cut.
"Ok. I guess I'll be seeing you around then." Morrison turned, heading towards his own door.
"Hey Morrison…" Randy called out, causing the other man to turn around.
"Yeah?" Morrison's brown eyes stared at him with trepidation.
"Thanks for…you know. Thanks." Orton stared down at the floor, his cheeks burning bright red.
"Anytime, Randy." Morrison gave him a wide, dazzling smile before turning around and disappearing into his own room.
As Randy entered his room, he dropped his bag and shirt to the floor, heading straight to his bed. Kicking off his Nikes, he leaped into the air, landing with a loud thump onto the soft mattress, the sheets and pillows bouncing up in the air. His face was buried in the sheets, making it a little difficult to breathe, but at that point he didn't even care. The combination of the nine mile run and getting assaulted by the leader of the Nexus made Randy feel like he wanted to go to sleep and not wake up for a week. Not only were his muscles sore and his entire body completely exhausted, but his side ached from getting punched and he had a busted lip from getting slapped. Wade had smacked him across the face with as much force as he could muster, and that stinging blow had made Randy's head rock. Reaching up, Randy tilted his head to the side, allowing him to draw his finger over the small, dried cut on his lip. Oh yeah, John would definitely be wondering about that… Fuck, what the hell was he going to tell him? Judging from the way John had reacted when he walked in on Wade touching Randy…it wasn't going to be pretty when Randy revealed that Barrett had pretty much beat the shit out of him. And he was going to do more, had Morrison not shown up… Randy didn't know what the hell was going through Wade's mind, all he knew was that things were getting worse and worse with each encounter he had with the English man.
Rolling over onto his back, Randy reached up with both hands, rubbing his eyes tiredly. He was getting so sick of this Nexus bullshit…it was bad enough when they were beating him up every day, but now he had to deal with a psychotic pervert that couldn't keep his hands to himself. Randy had thought getting smacked around sucked, but it turned out that getting felt up was a whole lot worse… Ever since Barrett had grabbed him wrists Randy couldn't help but feel like his skin was itching; dirty from Barrett's touches. It was a horrible feeling, one that made him feel sick in his gut. Even worse then feeling Barrett's fingertips on his bare skin had been when Wade shoved his groin between Randy's legs, causing his hard dick to rub up against Randy's ass. The fact that Barrett was getting off on holding him down and trying to force him had made Randy want to scream—both in rage and shame. Laying on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with frosty eyes, Randy couldn't help but blush a bright red, the burning shame coursing through his body. Wade had gotten the better of him…if Morrison hadn't shown up, he would've gotten what he wanted. That fact made Randy feel weak, pathetic. How could he have let that happen? How could he let Barrett get on top of him like that? Hurt him like that? Why hadn't he been able to escape on his own? Was he really that weak that he couldn't defend himself against slime like Wade Barrett?
Suddenly, Randy's door was being pushed open. John Cena stepped in, wearing a pale blue shirt and dark denim jeans. Droplets of water dotted his short hair, probably the remnants of a shower. John wore a small, content smile as he lazily walked into the room, Randy's extra keycard in his hand. His satisfied grin, however, dropped as soon as he saw the frown on Randy's face. After they made eye contact Randy quickly looked away, to his left, trying to hide the cut on his lip. John must've realized very quickly that something was wrong, because he gave Randy a concerned look, halting in front of the bed, his white shoes still on the carpet.
"Hey." John said slowly, his voice low and cautious as he looked down at Randy, "How was your run?"
"It was ok." Randy shrugged, sitting up, still looking away from John, "I got nine miles in."
"Nine? Damn. Sounds like a good workout." Cena continued carefully, his ocean blue eyes still fixated on the younger man.
"Yeah…it was alright." Randy shrugged again, his voice dismissive.
"So…that was it?" John placed his hands on his jean-clad hips, eyes narrowing in suspicion, "You just…ran? Nothing else happened?"
"I…um…" Randy chewed on his bottom lip, his heart fluttering in his chest. He didn't know why he was so god damn nervous all of a sudden…
"Randy, are you—" John suddenly froze, and then his jaw tightened, the muscles in his cheeks bulging as he grit his teeth, "Randy…are you bleeding?"
Before Randy could stop him, Cena reached forward, drawing his thumb across Randy's bottom lip. He pulled his hand away, the very tip of his thumb stained red.
"Why do you have a cut on your lip?" John hissed, dropping his hands to his sides, his fingers quickly curling into fists. His bright eyes had turned dark, and his easy smile had slipped into a mean scowl.
Randy didn't answer. He just looked up, icy eyes locking in on John's angry stare.
"It was the Nexus again, wasn't it?" John growled, "Who was it this time? Was it McGillicutty again?"
"No." Randy shook his head, his cheeks flushing pink as he stared down, fingertips playing with the cottony fabric of the sheets he was sitting on, "It was Barrett. He cornered me in the locker room after I was done running."
"Barrett?" John spat, sliding down to sit down next to Randy, his eyes hard, "He didn't…he didn't hurt you too bad did he?"
"He…he got a little rough." Randy winced, knowing that that was the understatement of the year. Turning to his right, he pulled his legs up, kneeling on the bed, facing John.
"I swear, I'm going to fucking knock his teeth right out of his mouth the next time I see him." John snarled, "He can't fucking go around hurting people like this. I'm going to take care of this bullshit—"
"Barrett…I think he was trying to…um, he kind of…" Randy stuttered, tripping over his words. He didn't really know how to explain to John that Wade Barrett had pretty much tried to hold him down and sexually assault him.
"Barrett…he tried to hold me down and…" Randy huffed in irritation, angry with himself that he was having such a difficult time enunciating what had happened, "What I'm trying to say, John, is that…I think Barrett had more on his mind then just hurting me…if you know what I mean."
"I don't understand..." John grumbled, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed his fists so tight his nails were digging into his palms.
"He just got too close, you understand that?" Randy snapped, jerking his head up so that his angry pale eyes were glaring up at John.
"Well what the hell happened?" Cena asked, his voice growing louder with every word, pure rage coursing through his veins, "Did you…get away or something?"
Randy sighed deeply, his shoulders sagging, and then he spilled the entire truth. He told the whole story: how Wade cornered him in the locker room, how Wade got him in the gut with a cheap shot, how they ended up wrestling on the ground, how Wade somehow got on top of him, and finally how Morrison came to the rescue by convincing Barrett that if he continued to attack Randy then Hunter would get involved. Hell, Randy didn't even know if that was true anymore…he hadn't even spoke to Hunter ever since he'd left RAW. And their relationship before that wasn't even too good…hell, Randy had spent the better part of a year trying to destroy Hunter and his entire family. They'd beaten the hell out of each other for quite some time…for all Randy knew, if Morrison had called Hunter and told him Barrett was pushing him around, Hunter might not give two shits. As he came to the end of his story by describing his and Morrison's trek back to the hotel rooms, Randy couldn't help but feel exhausted. After the run and Barrett's unwanted advances—not to mention getting beat in the process—he really just wanted to curl up under his blankets and try his best to just go numb for a while. It was times like this that made Randy realize that not feeling anything at all was better then feeling nothing but pain and fear. Bowing his head, Randy stared down at the mattress as he went silent, his face burning with embarrassment. Fuck, he had no idea why he felt embarrassed…
"Randy…" John's voice was sharp and quiet as he reached out. His two thick, muscular arms wrapping around Orton's leaner frame, Cena pulled the younger man onto his lap, arms protectively encircling around him. Randy leaned into his touch, the warm hardness of John's torso pressing up against him. He didn't know why, but suddenly Randy just felt like breaking down. He wouldn't cry—he was never a crier—but in John's arms he felt like he could let loose, like he could drop the front.
"I…I don't know what would've happened if…if Morrison hadn't shown up…" Randy murmured quietly, turning to the side, leaning his head against the inside of John's bulky shoulder. That wasn't really the truth…he knew full well what would've happened, he just didn't like to think about it.
"I'm sorry." John spoke quietly, his grip on Randy's body tightening, "I should've known…after what happened yesterday, I should've known he'd try to pull something."
"It's not your fault." Randy shook his head, leaning away from John's shoulder and looking him in the eye.
"I should have been there for you." Cena growled, pulling Randy against him, "You needed me and I wasn't there."
"You're here now." Randy replied softly.
John didn't know what he meant by that, but he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against Randy's lips, hoping that was what he wanted. It must've been the right thing to do, for the next thing John knew, Randy was turning in his lap so that they were face to face. Straddling John with his thick thighs on either side of him, Randy leaned forward, pushing his tongue past Cena's lips, probing his mouth gently. John felt the wooden headboard of the bed hit his back as he leaned back, pulling Randy against him. Pressing his own tongue into Randy's mouth, John had to suppress a moan as Randy grinded against his crotch, his groin moving back and forth across the growing hardness between John's legs. They moved quickly, each undressing themselves easily, and before John knew it Randy was naked on top of him, and he was naked too. After sliding his clothes off, Randy climbed back on him. John was leaning against the headboard still, his hands holding onto Randy's hips, and then Randy was again grinding himself against John's groin, their hard cocks bumping and rubbing against each other. John pulled on Randy's hips, moving the younger man closer to him, and then he was planting light, fluttering kisses across Randy's throat, causing him to tilt his head back and sigh in pleasure. Cena latched onto his neck then, his teeth scraping gently across the hot skin high up on Randy's throat, just below his jaw line. Moving one hand across Randy's back—fingertips skirting across tight muscles—John slid his hand lower, cupping Randy's ass, his fingers kneading the soft flesh.
Biting down on Randy's neck, John's hand glided down further, and then slid between Randy's legs. With a single finger he probed at Randy's tight entrance, and then—slowly, gently—he pushed it in, causing his lover to arch his back, biting his bottom lip in a pain-filled ecstasy. Sliding his lips up from Randy's throat to his mouth, John kissed him lightly as he began moving his hand, his finger sliding in and out of Randy's tight heat with ease. Randy bucked up against him, thrusting against John's rock-hard dick with each movement of his finger, Randy's own cock bobbing against John's stomach.
"Johnny…" Randy sighed, his voice light and breezy, "Please Johnny, I want more…"
John wanted to go slow, wanted this time to be different. This time he didn't want to just fuck Randy, he wanted to make love to him. As sappy as it was, that was what Cena really wanted. Pulling his other hand away from Randy's hip, John suddenly wrapped his fingers around Randy's cock, fingertips gliding up and down the soft flesh. Orton cried out then, his hips thrusting back and forth as John's finger slid in and out of him, his other hand jerking him slowly. And then John pushed another finger inside of him, and Randy gave a high pitched moan as Cena's skilled fingers stretched him. The feeling of John's hand fisting up and down his cock was mind blowing, and combined with the two fingers pulsing in and out of his ass, it was almost too much for Randy.
"Johnny, I want you." Randy hissed. His hands were placed on Cena's hips, his finger nails digging into the hot skin there.
Pulling his hand away from Randy's ass, he placed it on Randy's hip, pulling the younger man against him, his other hand still wrapped around Randy's throbbing cock. Sitting up slightly, Randy raised his hips, positioning himself above John's aching cock. Cena saw stars as the younger man lowered himself down, his tight ass practically choking John's huge cock. Randy bit his lip, cringing in pain as John stuffed him full, but the pain didn't last long. After a few seconds of adjusting to John's impressive size, Randy began to move, his hips bucking slowly, Cena's cock sliding in and out of him. Eventually the slow pace wasn't enough, and then Randy was moaning in pleasure as he thrust hard against his large lover. Up and down his body bobbed, John's cock spearing him over and over, hitting him directly in that sweet spot. Arching his back, Randy cried out as John started jerking his dick again, fingers feverishly tugging on the smooth skin, working his thumb over the swollen head.
"Fuck, Randy!" John tilted his head back, almost seeing white as he began thrusting upward, stabbing his cock deeper than ever into Randy's ass.
As John's dick brushed up against his prostate, Randy bucked his hips even harder, fucking John for all he was worth. Crying out in pleasure, Randy came in John's hand, his cock twitching and shooting out tendrils of white liquid. The sight of Randy humping him, eyes squeezed shut as he reached his peak, was too much for John. Releasing Randy's spent dick, he grabbed onto Randy's hips, yanking him up and down, cock shoved deep into Randy's tight ass. Again and again he stuffed Randy full, and then he climaxed hard, his dick swelling up and shooting hot cum into Randy's ass. Randy collapsed on top of him after that, their stomach sliding against each other, Randy's thick thighs on either side of John's legs. They remained like that a few moments, both panting with exertion, John's face and chest flushed red, Randy's thighs trembling from the effort it had taken to ride John.
"Damn, Randy." John grinned, leaning back against the headboard, "We should have started fucking a long time ago…"
"All those wasted years in OVW." Randy smirked, leaning away from John. Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stood up, heading towards the bathroom to clean up.
John eyes narrowed in on Randy's swaying ass as he walked away, disappearing in the bathroom. Like always, John heard running water and the sound of Randy yanking a towel off the rack. Staring up at the ceiling, John couldn't help but think back to OVW. Shit, if he had known Randy better…they had wasted so many years being rivals, why the hell didn't they start fucking earlier? OVW would've been a lot more fun if he had Randy at his side, John thought as he continued staring up at the ceiling. Then again, they had both been hot headed, immature boys back then…who knew what a relationship during those times would've turned out like. Randy was temperamental now, but back then he was just plain volatile. Either way, it didn't really matter, did it? They were together now, and John was loving every second of it. There was only one thing left to take care of…
Barrett.
He wasn't going to get away with what he did to his Randy…John would make sure of it.