This takes place at RAW 11-9-09, two weeks before Survivor Series.


Miz stood proud for his interview, chin held high and eyes gleaming in superiority. His well-earned championship belt was draped over his shoulder, glistening in the light. Josh asked him about his team for Survivor Series, and he shot off a wordy response about how he was the only one from RAW who had won at Bragging Rights and how he would lead his team into victory again. He revealed his 'elite up-and-comers' spin, taking pride in how good it sounded outside his own head.

"They are all winners, and they will be led by me" Miz raised his voice, holding out his arm "Because I'm The Miz, and I'm-"

The crowd echoed the word 'awesome', but that died on his lips. He looked up and saw Jack Swagger there, towering over Josh Matthews and grinning like a fool.

"You're what?" Jack asked, pushing Josh out of his way, the smaller man scurrying off "You're…"

"Awesome?" Miz offered, shifting the belt on his shoulder.

"You're…" Jack waved his hand, looking for the answer.

"Spit it out, Jack, I haven't got all day" Miz mimed looking down at his watch, impatient.

"You're in awe of Jack Swagger" Jack stated, holding out his arms.

"Not really" Miz countered.

"You may be team captain" Jack continued, pointedly not looking his lover over even as he continued to fake looking at a watch "But I'm the two time-two time All American American."

"Spit it out, already" Miz made a hurrying gesture "We really don't care anymore."

"Five weeks ago, I declared I would remain undefeated in 2009" Jack drawled, stalwart against his more animated co-star.

"Nice."

"Watch" Jack lisped, finally looking at the smaller man who was trying to talk over him "What I do to Evan Bourne tonight."

"What you do to Evan Bourne?" Miz scoffed "Like what I did last week when I won? Actually beat Evan Bourne?"

"Oh, right after he-"

"Is that what you're going to do?"

"Right after he beat you?" Jack continued, daring the man to challenge him.

The two started to talk over one another, building up the tension between them. It was pure passion, you could see it in both their faces as they both contended to get their points across.

"-they're going to make me team captain" Jack finished on a grin, hands on his hips proudly.

"Oh, really? They're going to make you team captain?" Miz got up in his lover's face, inches apart "Really, Jack? Really? Really?"

Jack's grin faded into a serious expression, looking don his nose at the other.

"Really" he stated, lingering a moment before turning away and walking off-camera.

Miz scoffed, looking after him with a certain longing in his eyes.

Before the cameras cut off, he wet his lips in anticipation.

The second the camera man said they were clear, Jake all but sprinted back over to his lover and caught him around the waist. The belt plopped to the ground, the brunette yelping as he was picked up right off his feet and slammed into the barely supported flat screen behind them. It jolted, but didn't give. Jake took his lover's mouth, demanding entry as he held him tight to his body.

Miz moaned, hands grasping at the blonde's shoulders as he kicked his legs up around his waist. He kissed back just as fiercely, not caring about how rumpled his clothes were getting or that the camera crew was all but running off to give them some semblance of privacy.

"Jake, wait" Mike rasped against his mouth, feeling the TV start to give beneath his back "We're-"

The bars holding the mounted screen snapped, the TV falling to the floor and shattering. Jake kept his grip strong, cupping his lover's thighs and pushing forward until the brunette smacked into the wall. A thousand dollars worth of damage didn't stop the two of them from enjoying each other. Jake grinded into the other, letting him feel his desire.

Miz laced a hand in his lover's blonde tresses, yanking his head back and breaking their kiss, "You have a match."

"Don't give a fuck" Jake groaned lowly, he loved getting his hair pulled "Real quick…right here."

"No chance" Miz dropped his feet to the floor, pushing the other hard. Jake nearly stumbled over the smashed TV, glaring heatedly at his lover. The air was hot and thick between them, chests heaving as they fought off the urge to indulge in their sin right here in this alcove of the arena. But they couldn't, and they both knew it.

"After your match" Miz smirked, leaning against the wall "Get to your dressing room…and you'll get what you want."

Jake ran his eyes over the fine form he'd lusted after from the start. His jacket was trimmed with dark fur, his light tie standing out against his ebony shirt, and those suspenders hanging from his belt to dangle by his legs. He was a stylish siren, the epitome of cool and chic and sexiness. He was smirking, for he knew how hot he was and how much he drove the blonde crazy by just asserting his control.

Jake nodded curtly, "Promise?"

"However you want it" Mike purred, meaning it.

Jake advanced quickly, all but pinning the brunette to the wall again. He cupped his lover's neck, the smooth material of his gloves tickling the sensitive skin. He dipped down, stealing a kiss.

"I want you riding me" he demanded, dark cerulean eyes full of unfulfilled desire.

Miz leaned back, refusing another kiss, "Go. You have a match."

"You're horrible" Jake laid wet kisses down the brunette's neck, fingers twitching for a chance to touch what was his.

"Go kick Bourne's ass" Miz growled "Lose well. Don't let them think for a second that you're lesser than that little slut."

Jake nodded, getting away from the temptation while he could.

Watching Jake walk away, Miz couldn't help but laugh to himself.

Yes, this was going to be fun.

xXxXxXx

The match went well enough, Jack powering through it and keeping a firm grasp on the upper hand most of the time. Evan was such a little thing, it wasn't too hard to pick him up and toss him around like a rag doll. There wasn't much selling involved, Jack took a little pleasure in striking the younger man. He was a supple boy…and it was easy to see how Miz had gotten so jealous, now looking back on it with a new perspective.

Jack pinned Evan down with his knee in the middle of his back, keeping him on his belly as he pulled his arms back painfully. He could've had this twink in his bed, he could be using that talented mouth and tight ass every night.

But one thought of Mike's laughter, his wicked smile, the special sparkle in his eyes as he whispered into his ear…the long nights of exquisite torture, blindfolded and tied up with no idea what Miz would do to his body next…the trust, the fun, the passion…

No, Evan was nothing compared to his Mizzy.

After a while, Evan took some control and tried to get a pin on him, but Jack wasn't about to let it be over that easy. He shoved the boy off, knocking him back down with a solid big boot to the face. The ravenette collapsed against the ropes, head hanging. Jack stood there, thinking about his next actions, when a shift of lighting signaled an event.

Jack looked up just as a guitar solo rang out through the arena, one all-too-familiar to his ears. He stood there a moment too long, panting, shocked that his lover would interrupt his match like this. For better or worse, he didn't know. Would he come as Miz or Mike?

Miz strutted at a casual pace down the ramp, a handsome smirk on his face. The spotlight rained down on him, tracking his every move, illuminating him like the Superstar he was. Halfway down the ramp, he gestured outward and (though the crowd's roar covered it all) said the words 'carry on' or something akin to that.

Jack wasn't about to turn his lover or the character away, he couldn't stop the urge to show off. He snatched Bourne's wrist, holding him tight as he raised his other hand to gesture Miz forward. With that simple movement, he invited him to ringside.

Jack wrapped his arms around Bourne, performing a picture-perfect belly-to-belly suplex that slammed the boy on his back. He circled Evan, holding out his arm to indicate his work and looked to Miz for approval. Evan was writhing, no blows had been pulled in that last move. Miz had his lips plumped in an approving way, stopping just at the base of the ramp to watch. He had his arms crossed at the wrists, looking for all the world just a captain sizing up his soldier.

Jack flushed from something other than exertion, this was out of arousal. Mike's eyes were dancing over his form, clearly admiring it, a slight crimson on his own tan face. Jack had been with him long enough to know when his lover was having dirty thoughts, when he wanted sex and when he wanted to tease him. Right now…that was a 'you should end this match and fuck me' look. Who was he to deny his lover that?

Evan was on the other side of the ropes, struggling to get to his feet. Jack held out his arms, grinning at his lover. It was a signal, and the excitement that flickered across Mike's face showed that it had been received as it was intended.

Jack grabbed Evan around the neck, leaning his head down briefly, "Hit Air Bourne. This match is over."

Evan growled something in return, but seemed pleased that his beating was over.

Miz watched Evan get his shots in, getting Jack flat on his back. The young man seemed so proud of himself, scrambling over the ropes and up on the turnbuckle for his party-trick finisher. He acted as if he could've done it without Jack's permission. He pinned the blonde for the win, the bell rang to announce it.

Miz approached the ring slowly, eying his lover hungrily. Those lean thighs…his one-piece pulled tight across his ass, showing off the thick muscle there.

Evan rose to get his hand raised, shooting the brunette a nasty look.

/I'm not here for you, little whore./

Evan bounced around the ring, flashing his peace signs and playing to the crowd.

Miz leant against the ring, belt draped over his shoulder and mic to his lips. He waited patiently as 'Bourne to Fly' assaulted his ears, letting the boy take his moment of victory. It wasn't often a jobber got a win against a former ECW champion. The belt Evan had so-coveted…Jack had won in four months of premiering. Jack had rolled over, draping an arm over the bottom rope close to Miz. He was panting, head lowered, playing up his loss.

"Like I said before, Jack" Miz lashed out, grabbing the younger man's chin and forcing him to look at him "I'm the team captain at Survivor Series. Have anything else to say?"

Jack didn't say a word, cock swelling in his tights at the lust-blown look in his lover's eyes.

"Didn't think so" Miz tossed the man's head away, stepping away from the ring and facing the crowd "Because I'm The Miz…and I'm awesome!"

He threw out his hands, tossing back his head and reveling in the mix of boos and cheers at his signature declaration.

Evan was all but forgotten in that moment, all attention on the couple now.

Miz backed up the ramp, smirking all the way with one hand wrapped around the belt and the other waving the mic around in a taunting manner. He kept the cocky attitude turned up fully all the way up the ramp, keeping Jack's eyes on him. Mocking him, acting smug, loving his façade and fully becoming The Miz.

Cause in a few minutes…he would be Mike, and getting the pounding of his life.

And he couldn't wait.

xXxXxXx

After the appropriate amount of limping and wincing, Jake finally got to the guerilla position and out of sight. He raced down the steps, taking large strides past the technicians and the other stars. He didn't give a fuck about the snickers he was getting, the jealous looks, the tempting ones, the ones that said he was cock-whipped. He had two goals in mind, to get his clothes off and get into the cocky Miz. He pushed and dodged whatever got in his way, eyes set dead ahead.

Meanwhile, Miz was in his lover's dressing room ready and willing. He took his belt and laid it out on the vanity, making sure it was neat and straight. He stepped back to admire it, glad to have it in his possession at last. He'd worked so hard…

But this wasn't the moment to savor his championship, this was the moment to take off his clothes.

Miz shed his fur-trimmed jacket, tossing it on the table as well. He unbuttoned his light inside vest, shedding it. His tie was loosened and yanked over his head, falling to the floor unheeded. He could hear someone approaching, he unclipped his suspenders one by one.

The door flew open just as he'd finished unbuttoned his sleeve cuffs.

Jake strode in, slick with sweat and starving for his lover's flesh.

"You have forty th-econds" Jake growled, pulling the straps off his tights down his arms.

Miz's eyes widened, but he knew his lover wasn't kidding. He quickly kicked off his shoes, followed hastily by his pants. Jake was practiced at removing his wrestling tights, and he got them down past his feet just as Mike's boxers were discarded.

With a animalistic cry, Jake reared forward and caught Miz around the waist again. The brunette replied with a growl of his own, clad only in his loosened long-sleeved black shirt and white socks. He was dumped over the back of the couch, landing with a 'oomph' upon the cushions. He had no moment to crawl away before Jake had plopped down beside him, now clad in his gloves, booths, and kneepads.

Large hands grabbed his waist, dragging him onto his lap. Like a maiden taken in a raid, Miz thrashed and struggled for his freedom. It was a game they sometimes played, giving the illusion of control over to the blonde. It was just for fun, to heighten their pleasure and to keep their sex at high voltage.

Miz dragged his manicured nails down his lover's thick pecs, leaving red lines in his wake. He grinned when the other threw his head back and groaned, arching into the rough sensation. He loved the rough treatment, he couldn't deny that he craved the little kinky things Miz did to him.

With one harsh movement, Jake ripped the first three buttons of his lover's shirt off to expose his collarbone. He lent up, clamping his mouth down upon the warm flesh. He chewed and kneaded at it like a puppy, leaving his mark on his territory. Mike laced a hand in those unruly blonde tresses, letting him drink his fill of his flesh.

Calloused fingers brushed his lips, he gladly parted them to accept the digits. He suckled on them obediently, quickly coating them with as much saliva as he could. He had a feeling it was all the prep he'd get for this coupling and he wasn't about to waste it. His cock throbbed and leaked beneath the cover of his shirt, the material falling nearly mid-thigh. He could feel Jake's thick piece of meat brushing his thighs, staining the cloth with it's need.

The fingers were taken from his mouth, going down around his back before slipping between the firm globes of his ass. He couldn't stop his hips from rocking into the first touch against his entrance, he wanted it so bad…he'd been craving it since he felt that TV give way beneath his back. Two slipped inside him, forcing his tight ass open, demanding his body accept him.

Jake watched in awe as he made his lover dance in his lap, rocking into his touch and moaning obscenely. He was such a responsive partner, so eager to be touched and so willing to give all he could. Those pretty hips couldn't stop swaying under his touch, and when he crooked his long fingers and hit his sweet spot dead on…Miz nearly jumped off his lap.

"That feel good, baby?" Jake cooed, thrusting up hard "You want more?"

"Fuck!" Miz hissed "You know I do. Give it up already!"

"Such an eager slut" Jake pushed aside the man's shirt, exposing his smooth ass to his assault. He dragged him closer, tilting him just right, before thrusting up. Miz stifled a scream, face scrunching up in agonizing pleasure as he was taken so brutally. The minimal prep let him feel every hard inch ripping into him, but he wasn't about to complain about his lover's above-average asset.

They set a harsh rhythm, fresh sweat beading along and staining their skin. Miz spread his legs as much as he could, trying to force even more inside him. They found a fierce, unforgiving rhythm that brought them the most pleasure. They selfishly strived for their own pleasure, knowing that they could take it slower and sweeter later in the hotel.

They were really getting into it, beyond words into the realm of groans and clawing. Miz dove down, stealing a harsh kiss. His lover's teeth nipped sharply at his lower lip, his eyes closing in bliss. Every thrust up caused his lover's thick shaft to brush the bundle of fuck inside him. He sat up, giving his lover a real ride, and cracked open his eyes only when he heard a slight noise. The couch was facing the opposite direction of the door, one of his hands bracing itself on the back of the couch.

Miz gasped harshly, though out of shock instead of pleasure. There, standing in front of the open door, was a smug looking Drew McIntyre. He had his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow arched at the seen in front of him. Not knowing the man was there, Jake thrust up into his lover's pliant body. Mike's lips parted without his permission, releasing a husky moan.

Drew licked his lips, entranced by the sight.

Finally catching on to his lover's sudden stillness, Jake sat up a bit and turned his head to look over his shoulder. He saw the young Superstar, growling low in his throat. He turned back around, head falling back on the couch in exasperation.

"Well, shit" Jake lisped, eyes going to his lover for help.

"Shh, babe" Miz slid off his lover's swollen length, running his hand down his heaving abs "I've got this."

Jake nodded, absently pulling down the hem of the other's shirt to mostly cover his modesty.

Miz walked around the couch, head held high against the minor humiliation of the situation. He had always been unashamed of his sexual appetite. Hell, their first fight as a couple was because Jake had refused to fuck him in the showers after a particularly heated match together. He walked right up to Drew, turning his icy gaze up at the younger man. He didn't care that he was sex-rumpled, or that his face had the rosy glow of lust, or that he was still achingly hard beneath his shirt.

"What the hell do you think you're doing here, Drew?" Miz inquired, keeping his tone firm so as not to give an inch to the other.

"So, the rumors are true" Drew gave a little 'hm' of enlightenment "In the locker room, ya two were the talk."

"For good reason, we're hot" Miz smirked, daring the other to say something against them "Again…what do you want?"

"To see if you'd be up to training with me tomorrow" the Scotsman replied, eyes trailing down the fit form of the other Superstar "I've got a few hours 'for I leave with the rest of 'em."

Miz tilted his head, giving him that classic 'really?' look, "Now's not the time."

"I can see that" Drew stepped closer, extending his hand and stroking down the older man's firm abs. Miz shuddered, the sure touch finding it's way to his hard cock. Miz's retaliation was lightening-fast, grabbing the man's wrist and yanking his hand away from his overheated body.

"Unless you're offering…" Mike trailed off, trying to ease the serious complications this was bringing on.

Drew was like quicksilver, striking out with his other hand and seizing the brunette by the collar of his shirt. Miz sucked in a breath, his balance thrown off as he was spun around. He found his back slammed into the wall, the impact nearly knocking the breath out of him. His hands came out to brace himself against the surface, the Scotsman's grip on his shirt rode the material up to reveal his groin.

Jake saw this, instantly outraged at the way his lover was being manhandled. He was ready to pounce, but Mike held up a hand and gave him a brief look to stop him. The blonde dropped back onto the couch, watching the Scotsman like a hawk.

Though a little more than scared and wide-eyed, Miz didn't want his lover to interfere. He didn't want to look weak.

Drew's gaze was pure fire, searing his body with it's touch. It was obvious what he wanted, what with the way he was pushing closer and nearly panting. About a year ago, Miz would have gladly accepted this man into his bed, but not now. It was only Jake for him, and he wasn't about to let himself be bullied by a much younger Superstar.

"And what if I am?" the brogue was rough, the taller man leaning down to steal a kiss.

Leather dug into his cheeks…he screamed, but no sound left him, only the taste of the gag…the edge of the handcuffs dug into his wrist, cutting him, blood flowing hotly down his arms…staining the sheets…unpure, tainted piece of meat…whore, slut…he could never make it in this industry without spreading his legs…a chance for success if not for a few weeks of agony…

"I think it's time you leave, man" Miz growled, reaching up and taking a hold of the other's wrist to block the advancement.

"What if I don't?"

Miz kept a solid gaze, icy eyes holding all the blazing courage he needed. Drew wavered under the gaze, pulling back and looking over his shoulder to see the intimidating Jack Swagger still glaring holes into his back. He couldn't take them both on at the same time, not like this…now wasn't the time.

Drew let Miz go, backing up toward the doorway. His eyes danced between them, that same shadow in his eyes that showed there was a darker side to the pretty Scotsman. Letting himself take in the sight of a panting, ruffled Miz for a few seconds longer…Drew slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

Silence hung in the air like molasses, as if the lovers were waiting for the last remnants of the Scotsman to fade away.

As if a timer had gone off, Miz gave a strangled yelp. Eyes still wide and staring at nothing, he slowly slid down the wall until the bare swell of his ass hit the carpet. As if he faded in, Jake appeared and sank down to his knees in front of him.

"Mikey?" Jake whispered, reaching out and cupping his lover's face "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Why didn't you let me kick his a-th?"

Miz was startled into reality, blinking up at the blonde. He reached up to shadow the other's wrists, hating the slight tremble that had snuck into his fingers. He managed a slight smile, glad to have his lover so concerned for him.

"I'm okay, Jakey" Miz promised, his voice hushed as well "He just scared me for a second, that's all."

"I'll fuckin' kill 'im" Jake swore, sincerity in his eyes "Just th-ay the word."

"No, not yet" Miz soothed him, stroking the thick forearms bared to him "But…I have a feeling he's going to cause us some trouble. We're going to have to keep an eye on young McIntyre."

Jake nodded, still running his thumbs along his lover's cheekbones. One thing bugged him…Mike was strong, stronger than most even. He was damn near psychotic sometimes, ranging from seductive manipulations to downright bursts of violence that usually left people with black eyes and/or broken furniture. Watching him being pinned by McIntyre…he looked like he'd gone out of body there for a moment. Like he was seeing something else all together.

"I'm okay" Miz stated, as if he forgot he'd already said it.

Miz brushed Jake's hands away, cupping the blonde's face instead. He leaned in closer, bussing their lips in a rather chaste kiss. It was a stark contrast to their interaction earlier, their animalistic lust had faded into a simmer.

"Really, sweet boy, believe me" Miz heard the words in his own words, frowning. He ran his fingers through those blonde tresses that had caught his attention from the start, studying his handsome face as well. The angle of his jaw, the faint lines along his cheeks that revealed his love of grinning, tan skin…the swell of his shoulders, his strong chest…

Jake was a man.

"I shouldn't call you that" Mike chuckled, a bitter note there "You're not that much younger than me…I don't know why I ever called you that…"

But Miz knew exactly why he called Jake that, it was his mindset and when Jake was his 'boy' he was easier to control. But at the moment, he felt drained.

"I don't mind" Jake replied honestly, and he really didn't. Though Mike was only two years older than him, he felt like his lover led this relationship. Sure, he was stronger and bigger…but Miz just had this hold over him. From the beginning, he'd been dancing to The Miz's tune. He was entranced by the siren, for all his violent outbursts and his manipulative nature.

Suddenly feeling exposed, Mike dropped his hands and tried to pull the shirt closer around him.

"Jake…I'm tired…" Mike admitted, hoping he could sleep soon "Can we just…go back to the room?"

But at times like this, Jake was glad to take the lead. He wrapped his arms around his lover, much like he'd done when Mike had hurt his ankle. The brunette mumbled his protest, but allowed himself to be carried over to the couch.

"Let's get dressed and go."

No sex would be had tonight, but intimacy would be found aplenty in their bed.


Yes, I know! I can't have a story where one of the characters AREN'T damaged by past attacks. Next chapter, we'll find out who hurt Mizzy later on and made him the way he is. Hope you're liking it, Miz Magnet! 'Tis for you.