A/n from Jessica: Hey all. I'd open the chap. with a witty remark, but yeahhh i got nothing.

Warning: Guy sex!

To say that getting up the next morning was awkward for Cody would be a bit of an understatement. Exactly how should you react when your boxers are itchy from dried cum—which was the result of an insanely hot, extremely graphic sex dream about another male with which you share a hotel room—and you can't even begin to think about interacting with said roommate or said roommate's boyfriend because you spent a good portion of the night listening to them having sex? …Not to mention, getting a hard on as a result of that.

Yeah, definite understatement.

Cody raised his head from his pillows, checking that the coast was clear before getting up to shower. Yep, all safe; John and Randy were currently snuggled up together still sound asleep. Which may have been funny to see if it hadn't been for Cody subconsciously wondering what it would feel like to be curled up with Randy like that, pressed underneath him as Randy wrapped his strong arms around him, the feeling of his weight on top of him as—

Okay, enough of that. That's not gonna solve any problems Codeman.

Shaking his head to rid the thoughts from his head, Cody threw the covers off of him, silently making his way to the bathroom, and shut the door behind him as quietly as possible.

Cody leaned against the closed door, running his hands over his face as he sighed. How in God's name was he going to be able to deal with this every day? Before, Cody had hated rooming with Randy and John simply because Randy got off on making Cody's life hell. Now, Cody got off on Randy making his life hell.

True, while Cody was a bit uneasy because of the fact that Randy was a guy, it didn't disgust him the way he thought it ever would. To him, he was attracted to Randy, not necessarily every guy on the planet. Did that make him gay? Technically, he would think yes, but what if you were turned on by just one guy? Did it make you a fag to want to have sex with one man, to want him to fuck you, to want to fuck him?

Not like that would EVER happen anyway.

The problem wasn't having sex with Randy—frankly if he wanted he was sure he could seduce him into it. He was an attractive young man, had a nice body…he was sure if he tried hard enough, he could get Randy to sleep with him.

No, the problem was about 6'1, weighed 250 pounds, and could crush Cody's face into mush should he feel the inclination.

Cody chuckled once to himself, how fucked up was that? Realize feelings for another man, cope with the fact that you have feelings for said man, and you can't even act on it? Well, it looked like Cody would be keeping these thoughts to himself; if John ever knew he even liked Randy, he'd be dead.

He had to quit thinking about this; he was going to get a migraine from all of this rationalizing. First thing was first: take a shower. Maybe then he could wash away the disgust at himself.

He walked to the shower, making sure to get the water scorching hot, before stepping out of his clothes, instantly moaning at the feel of the hot water relaxing his muscles, the feel of his problems disappearing down the drain.

The only problem with enjoying the silence, the only sound in the room being the water rushing past his ears, was that Cody had a lot of time to think. And of course his thoughts instantly wandered back to Randy.

He wondered what Randy was thinking about. Was he awake? Was he still lying in bed with John, having the soft spoken conversations that he seemed to only have with him? What were they talking about? Or was he still asleep? Was he having pleasant dreams? Could he have been dreaming about Cody like Cody had about him?

Cody moaned as the very vivid images from his dream flashed through his head. Would it really feel like that if he were to fuck Randy, would he make those noises, cry out his name in ecstasy like he had in the dream?

He took his member in his hand, unsurprisingly beginning to harden as thoughts of Randy coursed through his head. He imagined it was Randy's hands all over him, running down his chest, tweaking a nipple as they went, grasping at his abs and further down to his cock, hard and aching for him.

He leaned his head against the tiles, water gushing past his eyes, blurring his vision as he sputtered, trying to avoid the water from practically drowning him. But he didn't care—at the moment, all he could think about, all he could feel was the phantom sensation of Randy's hands on him, Randy's tongue trailing along his throat to taste his skin, leaving small bites behind him as he went.

He stroked himself, reaching further down to grasp at his balls, heavy with the want to come, to coat his seed across the shower door as he cried out Randy's name until his voice was hoarse.

Cody moaned as he thoroughly fucked his hand, his hips thrusting on their own accord, the thoughts and images in his mind spurring him closer and closer to the edge, closer to what he could feel would probably be the most intense orgasm of his life.

He imagined Randy right next to him, his weight crushing Cody into the wall, whispering quiet promises of exactly what he would do to him, what he would let Cody do to him.

The whispered swears in his head were to much for him to take, the thought of Randy ever saying those things to him urging him to the brink, and he came with a loud choked off moan, calling Randy's name as he shot across the shower door, painting the surface with his cum before getting washed away by the hammering of the water, slowly turning cold as Cody recovered from his high.

Cody turned down the water, shivering at the effects of the ice cold water coupled with the results of his mind shattering orgasm.

Way to go Cody. Put yourself in even deeper shit by fantasizing about the man you've already established can NEVER be with you. That'll definitely make it easier fucking living with him.

Cody shook off the self-deprecating thoughts, moving instead to wrap one of the hotel-issue fluffy towels around his waist, and absentmindedly grabbing another to dry his hair as he made his way out of the room and into the main bedroom.

Risking a quick peek behind a wall, Cody deemed it safe to continue to his bag seeing as John and Randy were still sleeping.

Or so he thought.

Cody turned around quickly as a loud wolf whistle sounded through the room, locking eyes with an amused looking John Cena.

"What?" Cody snapped, trying to pass his embarrassment and awkwardness off as anger.

John laughed, "Oh nothing Cody, I was just admiring your pretty boy good looks. It's a nice thing to wake up to, wouldn't you say Randy?"

Randy rolled over, looking at Cody from over John's shoulder, "Ehh. I've seen better. But yes, definitely a great way to wake up; you got a nice little body on you there Cody."

Cody blushed, moving his head to turn away from the quiet laughter at his expense. Half of him was embarrassed at being teased, half was embarrassed at being complimented by Randy, the other man's words causing his face to turn bright red.

"Oh come on, John," Randy said, half-heartedly hitting John in the arm, "you're killing the kid here. He's clearly uncomfortable."

"Alright, alright," John said, throwing up the covers as he climbed out of bed, walking to the bathroom, "we don't want Cody feeling uncomfortable. We want him to feel good!" John's voice yelled from the bathroom, "We'll be sure to make you feel good, Cody!"

"Yep," Randy responded, locking eyes with Cody from across the room, his gaze practically searing into him, "we certainly will."

Cody froze, not wanting to break the hold Randy had on him, not wanting to even move. They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity, eyes not leaving the other, neither moving an inch, before John's boisterous voice broke through the silence, asking if Randy was ever going to get up and join him.

Randy held Cody's gaze a few seconds longer before throwing the covers off of himself, and slowly rising to meet John in the bathroom.

Cody exhaled, releasing the breath he'd been holding. What the hell was that? Did he—was it possible that Randy knew? Cody shook his head trying to rationalize his thoughts, no way. There was no way Randy could know of his feelings for him, for fuck's sake Cody had just found out himself!

But still…he had been yelling awfully loud this morning, in the heat of the moment he hasn't stopped to think that Randy may have heard him.

Oh God, this wasn't good.

"And heeeereee we go," John said placing a plate full of eggs, bacon, and potatoes in front of Cody. "The most important meal of the day, serving it up Cody's way, bop!"

Cody ignored John's attempt to make him smile, moving instead to pick at the heaping amount of food on his plate, his head balanced sullenly on his hand.

"Cody, what's a matter? You look like your best friend just died." John said, grabbing his coffee as he sat down next to Randy, opposite Cody.

"N-nothing," Cody mumbled, keeping his eyes trained to his plate.

"Oh, come on. Tell Uncle Johnny what's wrong. I'm very good at listening you know."

"If you ever manage to shut up," Randy quipped, digging into his own plate.

"Fuck off. Now, come on Cody, what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong! Christ." Cody pushed his uneaten food away from him, jumping from his chair, "may I please go back to the hotel room?"

John nodded, shocked at Cody's outburst.

Cody huffed, practically running out of the small café they had decided on for breakfast and across the street to the hotel.

"What the fuck's with him?" Randy asked, barely having looked up from devouring everything on his plate.

"I don't know. You don't—you don't think it was because we were messing with him do you?"

Randy shrugged, pushing away his empty plate, "maybe. He was pretty mortified earlier."

John sipped his coffee silently, honestly troubled at the thought of affecting Cody that much. But that's the way he was, always wanting everyone around him happy.

He and Randy rose from their table, cleaning up their mess as they made their way across the street to collect Cody so they could head to the arena for the night's Raw.

"It'll be fine," Randy said, pressing the button to call the elevator, "he'll get over it."

John nodded, stepping into the elevator with Randy; he sure hoped so.

Cody giggled to himself as he drunkenly made his way to his hotel room.

After a pretty successful Raw, (he lost his match, yeah no real shock there) and after witnessing John and Randy make out and talk all 'couple-y' for what felt like hours, Cody figured he deserved to get a little drunk.

He let out an 'oomph' as he accidentally ran into a wall.

Okay maybe more than a little drunk.

He just couldn't take it anymore, having to watch John and Randy together constantly was really getting to him. Especially considering there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it. So he had found himself a seedy looking bar next to the hotel and spent half the night drowning himself in Kentucky's finest. What a great way to forget all of your problems.

Or not.

Unfortunately, getting mother fucking plastered had done nothing for Cody except take away his ability to walk straight. His thoughts of Randy and how much this entire thing sucked were still ever present in his head. Only now, he had fewer inhibitions and half-wanted to act on them.

Cody let out a whine as he stumbled into the elevator, why did his thoughts have to keep torturing him like this? He knew he couldn't have Randy and nothing he could do would ever change that. So why was he still thinking about him?

"Fucking Randy…" Cody muttered, tripping over his own feet as he made his way to their hotel room. "Always bein' s-sexy and shit. Mother fucker."

Cody fumbled with his key card, grunting in exasperation as he attempted to stick it correctly in the slot.

After a few tries, and a cry of triumph, he managed to get the door open, practically falling inside the room.

He picked himself up, spouting a few silent curses, and made his way through the suite to the bedroom, hoping to crash in his bed and sleep off the hangover he'd be feeling tomorrow.

Cody approached the door, sloppily reaching for the handle before stopping. What was that noise?

His drunk and muddled mind struggled to determine the noises coming from inside the room. Someone was yelling; were John and Randy fighting?

Cody peeked his head in through the small crack the door made, expecting to see someone getting their ass handed to them.

Well…that wassort of what was happening.

Cody's eyes widened, gaze falling to John pinning Randy against the wall, thoroughly fucking his brains out. Cody blinked, unable to believe what he was seeing. Good God, Randy was even sexier than he imagined.

His back was braced against the farthest wall of the room, hands splayed out above him, furiously grasping for purchase as John pounded into him. His eyes were shut tight, sweat dripping down his sculpted pectorals and across his abs, making its way to his hard cock, steadily leaking precum. His mouth fell open as he moaned in pleasure, John stroking that spot inside him, calling John's name.

Cody's mouth was instantly dry at the sight, frantically devouring the sight in front of him as his hand automatically dropped to his jeans, stroking the prominent bulge.

The sounds falling from Randy's mouth—the beautifully explicit moans and whimpers— goaded him on. He unzipped his pants, taking out his dick and jacking off to the image of Randy for the second time that day.

"John! Fuck. So…so fucking good," Randy cried, eyes locked with John's, reaching down to take hold of his own member.

"Go on baby," John grunted, thrusting into Randy's willing body, "touch yourself. Jerk your dick while I fuck you."

Both Randy and Cody simultaneously moaned at that, Cody's hand moving faster over his dick as Randy mirrored him.

Cody braced his hand against the doorframe, biting his lip as he tried to resist the urge to cry out. The alcohol in his system made it practically impossible, but with as much strength as he could muster he ripped his gaze away from the pornographic sight in front of him, crying out as silently as he could as he came all over his hand.

He quickly wiped his hand on the seat of his pants, closing the door quietly before John and Randy noticed him standing there. He wandered through the room, finally plopping on the couch in the center, lying down as he fell asleep, the last sound he registered from the bedroom being Randy's loud cries of completion.

A/n from Jessica: Oh fuuuuck yeah! that makes four back to back smutty scenes, and TWO back to back spongebob references! fuck yeah son!

Again, i got nothing. Hope you all enjoyed! Be sure to review! :)