Chapter 17
Hi everyone! I'm baaaaackkk. Sorry it's been a while! I had writer's block and wanted to wait for Battleground. Plus I've been legit busy (even that NXT two shot took longer than expected to put up) these past few weeks.
Raw this past fortnight blew me away. As a Diva fan especially. We're going to kick off from last week's in Houston, TX. Refers to Let's Go To The Beach, Beach and events from there.
THere may not be as much smut as previous chapters! Be some twists and turns but overall the plot needs to move forward : )
And Charlie/Elextrix, you may eventually get what you've been hinting at : P (the Jody D-E ;))
"You OK there Randy?" asked Ryback as the two men observed John Cena and Cesaro share a heated verbal exchange on the microphones, John looking especially furious.
Randy was fixated on the screen. He couldn't help it. John when he got pissed the fuck off on TV was one of his biggest turnons.
"Uhhuh."
"Sure you don't want some alone time?" teased the Big Guy
"Go and play with Axel's big fat butt."
Ryback chuckled and sauntered away.
Randy was like a fucking teenager damnit. His hormones were in overdrive. But no, John was due a match with the big Swiss so he had to wait. Fucks' sake. John really needed to tell Zack that it was fucking OVER and that he was with his rightful partner - Randy.
"What are you doing?!" snarled a voice and Randy turned to see that irritating man-stealing brat of a Woo Woo Woo Kid.
"Watching the show," spat Randy.
"I know what you're doing Orton, you're thirsting after John! He's MINE DAMNIT! MINE!"
"Grow up," deadpanned Randy, "You don't scare me. And he's not yours, never was."
"So explain why I'm on his tour bus every night?" hit back Zack.
You wish, wouldn't you like to know what he's done to me on that bed recently! thought Randy smugly. He couldn't help the smirk that lifted his tanned face.
"You can't! Leave him alone Orton! Go find a ring rat to fuck."
"Oh please."
Cesaro and John's match was about to kick off and Randy turned back to the screen, trying not to drool. It was a fierce contest and one of John';s best efforts in a while. John busted out the hurracanrana...along with other moves he didn't normally use...showed off his amazing core strength. Randy was a hot mess. The steel chair he was sat in was feeling very moist. He was so ratchet and he didn't give a fuck.
"Hey man," came a deep rumble.
"Sup Reigns," drawled Randy, totally blanking Zack who was still there getting more and more pissed off.
"Wanna talk about the beatdown you're gonna give me?" asked Roman.
"Later?" Randy said, eyes glued to the screen.
ROman chuckled. Any idiot could see that the great Randy Orton was also the biggest Cenation worshipper. His eyes were GLUED to that damn screen.
"Fine. After you've taken a cold shower," teased Roman, sauntering away.
"Eyes. OFF!" snarled Zack.
"Oh. You still here?" sighed Randy, "Haven;t you got some jobbing to do?"
"Excuse me I WON my last match on Raw!" spluttered Zack.
"And prior to that, when was your last? Go away Ryder."
"No! I want to congratulate MY man!"
The bell rang at that point signalling the end of John's match. Zack practically sprinted to gorilla to find John. Randy deciding to not bother. John had to tell Zack soon. Or Randy was going to do it for him. John did promise Randy that he was allowed on the tour bus tonight. But right now Randy was hard and aching with need. His trunks were tenting and a wet spot was forming on the front. How thirsty was he? But he didn;t care.
John meanwhile came backstage through the curtain and reluctantly accepted Zack's shower of kisses.
"You were amazing Johnny," Zack moaned.
"Yeah yeah...gimme a chance...need to go shower."
"I can scrub you down."
"Just give me five...Total Divas cameras may be around..."
"FINE!" spat Zack, turning and storming away.
John watched this.
"Aren't you gonna go after him?" remarked Cesaro, who'd appeared behind him.
"Nope."
"Not very chivalrous," scoffed the Swiss.
"Where's your man?" asked John.
"Pfft. I'm in the doghouse because I locked my credit card away," Cesaro said, "Actually..now we're done, you got a few minutes?"
"Sure man."
The two hulking brutes of strength padded along the corridor to find a quiet spot to chat.
"What's up?" asked John, resting his aching, thick arm on a wires box.
"I want to break up with Mike."
"Really? Thought you were happy."
"Yeah. But like he as good as admitted at Wrestlemania, pretty sure he's just using me. For my money."
"But with his bank balance..."
"He tells me I'm a sex pest! A sex pest! When he's usually the one who wants it! All he cares about is where our next meal out is! When he can next go shopping! He doesn't want me John, he fucking wants Swagger! As per fucking usual!"
"You can't buy people's love bud," John sighed, sympathetically, "They either give it you or they don't."
"Why is it always don't with me?" huffed the Swiss, "I fucked up more though."
"What did you do?"
"2 weeks ago, I had a sexy vid chat with Sami Zayn. As in I jerked it, he fingered..."
"But he's dating Nevile...jeez man, what you playing at?" hissed John.
"They split up and he wanted cheering up. So Mike comes in after we finish up. I hang up. Next thing I know Sami's blocked me and cussed me out publically online, calling me an asshole!"
"Can you blame him? You muscled in on him when he broke up with his other half...then once you've shot your wads you hang up on him? I've met the kid enough to know what he's like. But why vidchat him? I know your Arrival match was touchy feely..."
"I had him," Cesaro admitted, "Ages ago. But yeah. One night thing. He wanted more and I told him no. Hate myself for it. And then he hooked up with Neville.."
"Spilt milk man," John said.
"You can talk," hit back Cesaro, "You and Orton...pretty much everyone down to the security guards know you're hitting that again. Why not just put Ryder out his misery?"
"That's what Sheamus keeps saying," complained John, "It's not quite as simple as that. Hang on, you said Miz is chasing Swagger...who's banging Ambrose shamelessly."
"Wait WHAT? Since when?"
"About a month ago...Dean's all over him," John said, "We've all seen it in the locker room."
"I knew he and Rollins had split up...damn..."
"You could go cheer Ambrose up, you're a gentleman...mostly," grinned John, "You're a big guy where it matters. And you're unattached. That way Miz can go get Swagger, you'll be free of a nagging crazy..."
"What did you call me Cena?!" roared that cocky voice.
Both Cesaro and John turned to see Mike The Miz in his ring gear and shades; arms folded and scowling. His new title over his shoulder.
"I'll see you later," John mumbled.
"Hey," Cesaro said, arranging his face into what he hoped was a winning smile.
"Don't give me that Claudio, still fucking mad at you!" spat Mike, "You gonna let him talk about me like that?! I'm not crazy and I'm not nagging."
"He was joking," Cesaro replied, "C'mon...don't get worked up." He went to kiss Mike. Who pushed him away.
"Don't touch me! I've got a match!"
"C'mon, what am I supposed to have done?!" Cesaro complained.
"Skyping Sami Zayn! I'm not blind Claudio and I wasn't born yesterday! Why was he calling you a prick on Twitter just minutes after you hid your laptop from me in Japan?! You've been cheating on me! ASSHOLE!"
SMACK!
Mike slapped the Swiss hard around the face. Cesaro stumbled back holding his cheek. Mike might not be the best in the ring but his bitch slaps hurt like fuck.
"Now wait a minute..." spluttered the Swiss, "You keep talking about Swagger...!"
"I'm not going on Skype to him!" erupted Mike, hardly daring to believe how convincing his melodramatic performance seemed to be, "It's over Claudio! We're through!"
"You really doing this now?" asked Cesaro, even though he knew he deserved it. And actually. He wasn't as sorry to end this relationship as he thought. it had been bliss to begin with but now it was just a strain. Mike was always annoying when he had a title.
"YES I AM!" shrieked Mike, "You don't treat me like a lady anymore! I heard them laughing at me at the weekend! You called me that 'airheaded shopping machine from hell!' That hurt Claudio!"
Cesaro shifted guiltily. Sheamus had a huge mouth on him. Note to self. Never make lighthearted jokes about your partner to Irishmen.
"Fine," he muttered, "We're done. I'm not just a wallet and a dick you know."
Mike folded his arms and smirked.
Cesaro immediately realising it was an act.
"Yes you were Cesaro," Mike sneered, "C'mon, you really fell for it? Chickifiaction is my fetish. You were just a prop. I don't love you, I never did. You bought me some wonderful things and you were a B plus in bed, I'll give you that. You're not who I want. I settled for you."
"Glad you finally admitted what I always guessed," scowled the taller man, getting in Mike's space, "Have fun chasing married men who find your flab disgusting."
Mike paled. Cesaro didn't? He went there? He said he LIKED Mike's curves!
"Claudio...you...BASTARD!"
SMACK!
Another slap to the face.
Mike stormed away in tears. He didn't love Cesaro and was glad to be shot of him. But he had no idea the Swiss thought he was flabby...he'd been played just as much he'd played Cesaro. And that stung. He began to hug himself. Where were Rybaxel? Go through the match. That should take his mind of his heart's struggles. He padded along the corridor. He almost bumped into a mass of shocking pink and blonde.
"Hey man what's eating you?" asked Mike's friend and fellow Ohio native, Dolph.
"Claudio and I have split up," sniffled Mike.
"Aw man that's a bit shit," Dolph said.
"Nobody sticks around me Nicky...am I really that hard to love?"
"You just pick the wrong dudes bro. I mean your history...Mathews who was the locker room whore..."
"Whom YOU had!"
"2010 man, that was years ago...and then you became the locker room whore too...Cesaro, Swaggs, Barrett...in rotation."
"Didn't want to be tied down. And you can't judge me Nicky when you play about."
"Guess not bro."
"You had Cody and Ambrose! Ambrose Nicky? Surprised you didn't get AIDS!"
"Me neither but I had blue balls and he was willing," Dolph shrugged.
"And now he's fucking what's MINE!" roared Mike, startling Dolph.
"Swaggs is married bro, you stopped all that with him," the blonde replied.
"You don't get it Nicky. I want Jakey so bad!" whined Mike, "He's my dream guy. He was the best sex I've ever had! And now he's dipping it in that disgusting..stinking...mentalist...slut.."
"Hey man, don;t let it get to you," Dolph said, putting an arm around the shaking Intercontinental Champion, "Sometimes we want what we can't have."
"Can always count on you Nicky..." sniffled Mike, "You're my oldest friend...you always have my back."
"Always will bro," Dolph said, "You know that."
Mike nuzzled into him.
"C'mon man, get a grip," Dolph went on, "We're supposed to be fighting shortly."
"Nicky...you may not be Jakey but you're still hot," whimpered Mike, "You know, if you're ever horny and can't get some..."
"Don't be cheap," Dolph said, "You'll never find a dude who cares about you if you slut yourself about."
"I'm fat Nicky, I have to be grateful for what I can get," Mike said sadly, pushing his shades atop his head, "One of my thighs is the same size as your fucking waist."
"Maybe you just look in the wrong places, some dudes really dig thick chicks and it must be the same for er...bigger dudes," Dolph said.
"What do you like Nicky?" asked Mike, blinking his big blue eyes slightly flirtatiously and flashing those pearly whites.
"Stop it," warned Dolph.
"Nicky, we've been friends for a while..." Mike wheedled, "Just helping one another out...I don't want chocolates and flowers...just a quick bang.."
"You're stung cos of Cesaro, we'll hate each other tomorrow," Dolph said, shuffling away.
"You're from Cleveland just like me...we have so much in common Nicky..."
"Bro...stop it."
"Nicky...I exposed your amazing peachy white ass to the world once. I'd love you to Ziggle Wiggle that on my face. And then I can grab it as you pound me. You're so athletic...you'd break little me.."
He leaned in for a kiss.
"Mike. Back up!" Dolph snapped.
"I KNEW IT! You hate fat guys just like everyone else! I'm trying Nicky! I'm trying to be like you! I do your empty stomach cardio!"
"Don't overreact," sighed Dolph, "I don't want to lose our friendship over some cheap fucking. Bros before hoes. I learned after Rhodes and Ambrose to not go for that shit. C'mon."
Mike melted into the elder Ohio native's embrace, feeling desperately stupid.
"C'mon.." gasped Dean Ambrose, "I'm losing my hardon!"
He was bent over a wires box and Jack Swagger was inside him. But the blonde was being so half-hearted. He'd seen how touchy feely Miz and Ziggler were in that tag match. It was like a conspiracy. He was fucking Ziggler's ex fuck whilst HIS ex fuck was all over Ziggler. He was sure this was incest. But no. He didn't want Miz! Miz was a fat pig in fishnets! He said it himself. Why was he getting jealous? It was no use. He pulled out of that pert, smooth ass and yanked his singlet back over his body.
"What's up Jake?" asked Dean, doing his scuffy jeans up, "We've been seeing one another for a month now. You can talk. I don't mind."
"Thought you didn't talk, you just fuck," grunted Jack, "We should keep it casual."
"Jake you're amazing to me, you hold me and kiss me," Dean smiled, "I really like you. You can talk to me."
"Don't," hissed Jack, "Don't make it more than it is man."
"You treat me far better than Colby ever did," Dean smiled, leaning over to peck the tall blonde hunk on the lips. Jack pulled away.
"Why don't you try and get back with him?" sighed the Oklahoman. Why did every time he messed witha dude always lead to complicated mess? Dean seemed to be wanting more than just workmates-with-benefits.
"Ha. Five minutes ago your dick was in my ass and now you're telling me to go get back with my selfish cunt of an ex?!" scoffed Dean, "Your priorities are twisted."
"Maybe we should go separate ways, too much to lose," Jack suggested.
"For you maybe; Me, I'm a single boy," Dean smiled, "But if you're bored of me, I'll find someone else."
"You're such a slut," huffed Jack.
"Build a bridge and get over it Hager," Dean said, "But you're right. Maybe we could go our separate ways. It'd be tough to find a guy as amazing as you...but I'll manage. Call me when you've sorted your ego out and maybe we could start a real relationship."
"I don't want a relationship!" spat Jack.
"Sure you don't," smiled Dean, leaning up and pecking him, "I'll still be on Grindr. Hit me up. or call me. Your choice big guy."
He shuffled away whistling to himself.
Jack had no idea what just happened here. This shit was doubling fast into the Twilight Zone.
He sighed and headed back towards the locker rooms.
Mike and Dolph were sat together, along with Zack (who was sulking because John was making a big show of sitting with Nikki for Total Divas) in the locker room. Mike considered these guys, along with ring announcer Justin Roberts, and of course Alex Riley, his only true friends at work. They were the only ones he invited to his wedding. Cody Rhodes can go fuck himself. Since Josh got fired Cody hadn't talked to him, only hanging out with Paige, Layla, Summer or Curtis. Mike liked Curtis due to their shared hatred of Dean Ambrose but yah boo to the rest of them.
"Chin up bro," Dolph said to Zack.
"John should have ME on his lap, not that balloon titted bimbo!" snarled Zack, "And fucking Orton's thirsting after John again! WHy me?!"
"We all want what we can't have," Mike said, arm around Dolph, "I know the feeling Zacky."
"What do you mean I can't have him! I'm dating him!" snapped Zack, "Just cos you can't get into Swagger's bed doesn't mean you can crap over what I have!"
"Easy broskis, c'mon," sighed Dolph who was already feeling uncomfortable with Mike's touching.
"Why don't you stop deluding yourself Zack and dump Cena. You're sharing him with bigger-breasted Bella and Blandy Snoreton. You deserve someone who can give you his full attention." Mike said.
"I always wonder why you didn't get with the Big O," Dolph put in, "He's a big guy like Cena. And he likes you. He's unattached. Call him. You're more attracted to the flashing lights of the main event than you are to Cena himself."
Zack sighed. He'd never thought of that before. Maybe Dolph was right. All he'd done since trying to get John back was embarrass himself time and time again. He'd drunk to excess at work or in the vicinity of work. He'd caused scenes at work. And he'd bullied John with a knife. Something which he regretted so much. He'd gone teetotal for a while to see if that helped. Did he really love John or did he just not want Orton to get him back to save his ego? It was ego. It clicked. Zack didn't want to admit that he'd been used again. So he'd tried to get John in line. Messing with the top guy only led to a dead career.
"Nicky's right Zacky. Break it off. Call the Big O. I bet he can make your mouth into a big O. He's got a nice package."
"C'mon man, do you have to?" sighed Dolph.
Zack smiled.
"That's been the biggest slap in the face I've needed the past few months," he sighed, "Curt tried to put me straight but I wouldn't listen. I made such an ass of myself to get John..."
"You don't need him to boost your career man, your time will come," Dolph said, "Remind yourself who gave you the US title rub. It wasn't Cena."
"No it was you bro," Zack smiled, "You were my big break feud in 2011."
"Bros before hoes," Dolph said, "Go be mature and break it off with Cena. Let him get back with flat-ass."
"I'll miss the sex," Zack sighed, "And being on that bus. But suppose in the long run...Big O is hotter actually...damn why didn't I see it sooner."
"Strip away the main event and the colorful tees, Cena's a dullard," Mike said.
"You could do better. Don't be a glory hunter man," DOlph said.
Zack took a deep breath as he approached John and Nikki.
"John...can I talk to you?"
John visibly huffed and rolled his eyes.
"Fine but make it quick," he said, climbing to his feet and following Zack out of the room and out into the corridor.
"John," Zack said, "I think we should finish."
The relief that oozed from every pore in John's face visibly at that did sting Zack. But no. Stay strong. This was doing him good.
"Me too," John replied, "Been wanting to tell you."
"I was a drunken mess," Zack said, "I treated you like absolute shit. You didn't deserve that. I sabotaged yours and Randy's relationship to sate my own needs because I was frustrated. I still like you a lot John. But I've come to realise we weren't working out."
"Randy sabotaged it himself," John said, "You did have no right to go snooping and filming. Look...Randy and I...we go back years. No hard feelings, please?"
"None taken John," Zack said.
John didn';t know whether to laugh, jump for joy or pinch himself. This was the most stable, mature, sane and adult Zack had been their entire sordid fling. It was like someone had given him his much-needed dose of lithium! Was this a dream? Did someone up there just lift that huge burden off his shoulders?
"We can be friends. Just don't try that shit ever again. I mean it," he said, folding his arms.
"Sure. I'm sorry. Truly. Thanks for not kicking my ass even though I so deserved it."
"It's cool."
"Right..."
Zack stared at the floor a little before turning on his heel and walking away, not looking back at John. He felt...liberated. At last. He could hold his head high again. Being smothered with kisses by Summer and Layla along with a win on Raw had contributed a fair bit but at last. It was hard to give John up. But it looked like John was glad to have finished it. He climbed back into his seat.
"You look happy," remarked Dolph.
"How did he take it?" asked Mike.
"He was relieved...I think he was gonna dump me anyway so I saved him the trouble," Zack said.
"Are you OK?" Dolph asked.
"Fine," Zack said, "I'm a bit cut up. But it was for the best. I'm sick of being a joke around here."
"Call Big O," Mike said, "He's your type. So your type. You do like them big."
"Who doesn't?" smirked Zack.
"Make sure he's a top..." giggled Mike, "You don't want a repeat of Lexie."
"He's wasted on bottom man," chuckled Zack, "He has a great body though."
"Oh no, he's top now, Evvy...sorry Matt Sydal...has decided he likes to stretch his legs," giggled Mike, "They have some epic sex. He can get into some...incredible positions."
"Announcers have the best sex," Zack laughed.
"From what Justin says over drinks..." Dolph smirked.
"Tom Phillips is a little fireball in the bedroom," Mike put in.
"I'm texting O now," Zack said, "Might call him. We always did get a little flirty..laters broskis."
He fistbumped both of them before leaving with his phone, dialling his former Youtube co-star.
"The dramas," sighed Dolph, "Mike man, you sure you'll be OK."
"I'll be fine Nicky..." Mike drawled, eyes raking Dolph's chiselled abs. How easy would it be to just unzip those trunks..? Friends with benefits would be the solution. And maybe Jack would get SO jealous he'll dump skanky Ambrose and reclaim Mike! It was so easy. Mike's eyes raked the room and spotted Jack walk in. Instantly he climbed into Dolph's lap.
"Hey!" Dolph cried.
"Just getting comfy Nicky," giggled Mike.
"You're squashing my balls man...!"
Mike shot a nasty grin over at Jack.
"Oh NICKY...I love being with you," he said loudly, causing a few people to look over curiously..most shaking their heads in disgust.
Over in the corner, Cody in full Stardust gear was sat with his best friend in the whole wide world, Curtis Axel.
"Look at him," he huffed, "He's so shameless. Can't blame Cesaro can you..."
"I guess not," Curtis said, "I thought he was trying to get Swagger...making himself ill to lose weight.."
"I don't believe anything that comes out of Miz's trap anymore, I think the only person he truly cares for is himself," Cody said, "He did help me and Joshy so much. But I can't stand him. I really thought he was a friend. But he was more interested in getting his legs over. Curtis...I like you. You're the only guy I can trust save for Dustin."
"You can always trust me, even I don't like Dean," Curtis said.
"And I told you, it's OK," Cody said, "I just don't want any awkwardness. I'm not going to make you talk to him."
"Have you heard from Josh?" asked Curtis.
"Called him before the show, he's still at Rudy's," Cody said.
"Rudy? Oh yeah..his brother," Curtis said, "Aww man...I bet your frustration levels are already rampant."
"Not gonna lie sweetie," Cody said, "My fingers are getting a big workout."
"EW!" chuckled Curtis.
"And cos he and Rudy hangout all the time with all their buds from that area we can't even have phone sex!" complained Cody.
"Well you can always join Ryan and me?" grinned Curtis.
"CURTIS!" Cody giggled, going to tickle him playfully.
"No...no...stop!" Curtis was laughing and thrashing.
"I'm not your plaything," Cody said, releasing him, "I'm promised. And that's how I am staying."
"No playing about at all?"
"Nope. This dick. This booty. Joshy's and Joshy's alone. Forever until the day he or I die."
Cody removed his gold and black glove to show his promise ring.
"Wow...I forget you're old fashioned at heart."
"You and Ryback are too cute together. By the way...when do you plan on...you know..."
"Plan on what?" grinned Curtis.
"You know what I'm talking about silly..."
"Oh...yeah...not here where he might overhead," giggled Curtis, "I'll tell you when it happens. Put it this way, I go shopping secretly every chance I get."
"Awwwww...still I believe he should do the honors," Cody said, "The man should propose to the woman, the top should propose to the bottom. Simple."
"You have the weirdest moral code," chuckled Curtis.
"And that's why you love me," beamed Cody, blowing stars all over Curtis who choked and batted them away.
Jack Swagger was watching Mike and Dolph with disgust. Why was he getting fucked off with this? He told Mike he wasn't interested. So why did he break off the good thing he had going with Dean because of a bruised ego. He'd rejected Mike enough...the Intercontinental Champion wasn't going to chase him forever was he? He wandered over to the table to get some mid-show snacks.
Perfect.
Mike climbed off Dolph's lap and padded over, citing he was peckish. Dolph facepalmed. If Mike was going to play mind games with Real Americans, did he have to be involved? The dramas here sometimes...E! would love to film the male wrestlers...the divas dramas couldn't be as complex as the shit that went on between the superstars.
Jack scowled at Mike.
"What?" Mike pouted, hand on hip, like a good angry woman should be.
"You're disgusting," snarled the Oklahoman, "All over Ziggler."
"It make you love me?" Mike demanded.
"What the fuck?"
"I told you Jakey, you're the man I want. The man I dream about every night. The man I fantasise about every single fucking day. I don't want anyone else."
"FUnny way of showing it," scoffed Jack, turning away to grab some cold roast chicken legs, "Why don't you just bang Ziggler?"
"Have your ratchet side hoe's sloppy seconds? No thank you sir, I have standards," Mike sneered, "The moneymaker doesn't just kiss any old lips."
"Oh please. Leave me the hell alone...fattie," scowled Jack.
Mike was stung hard. His eyes burned with tears and he hugged himself. But he was not going to be beaten.
"Why won't you love me?" he pleaded.
"Because I'm married!"
"Doesn't stop you poking Ambrose's dirty hole! What's he got that I haven't? There's more of me to love Jakey..."
"He's not a clingy, jealous slut?"
"Please. Everyone knoes Ambrose is the most popular ride outside of Disneyland! Stick a pin in the indie booking lists and chances are it'll land on someone who's fucked Ambrose! He's probably opening his legs to anything in pants behind your back! I wouldn't do that to you! I would love you and only you!"
"Finished your little speech?" snarled Jack, "Because I'm hungry."
He picked up his plate and made to go sit down. Mike snatched it from his hand and stood right in his space.
"You won't even look at me," he said sadly, "You don't know just how I feel about you. That day you hit me up and gave me what I craved after such a long dry spell...it was like being reborn Jakey...I think about it all the time...how much I needed you..."
"Oh stop talking like some Hallmark channel movie, and give me my fucking food!" spat Jack, exasperated.
"You don't need some reheated frozen muck of a chicken leg when there's me," simpered Mike, "I'll even wear my new belt so you can pound me in it."
"This is what they class as sexual harassment," Jack huffed, "You can use all the words you like. It ain't gonna work, puss."
"I can be a pussycat if you want me to," smiled Mike, "I love cuddling."
"Have you no damn dignity?!" exclaimed Jack, "People are looking! They're laughing at you!"
"I don't give a damn what the locker room thinks, don't have time for most of those pricks," Mike said, "They're just jealous of my success. Butthurt that I didn't fail like they all wanted. You never talked trash about my reality TV roots Jakey. You were always so supportive in ECW..."
"Leave me ALONE!" roard Jack, finally having had just about enough and way too aware of the stares of his coworkers. He slammed his plate on the food table, almost knocking the whole thing over and stormed out of Catering.
Randy Orton was hanging around in the car park. Trying not to look like he was awaiting John Cena to take him to the tour bus and have his wicked way. He'd gone a bit harder on Roman than they'd planned and Roman had been a touch ruffled. But Randy had tried his coy boy act that usually worked on John and explained he was just over excited. Roman hadn't bought and probably been just a little creeped out.
At last the hulk in a bright green tee loomed into view, taking some photos with a few kids and parents. NAturally he was accompanied by Nikki. Randy couldn't help but feel jealous. No. Control yourself. He was coming to see you Randy.
After a Hollywood kiss with Nikki for those with their smartphones at the ready, John shuffled away and crept around the parking lot, trying not to look shifty. At last he spotted Randy. Still in his ring gear of course. Well it was a nice night.
"Not making trouble are we?" grinned John.
"You took ages," scowled Randy, folding his arms, "Especially kissing her."
"Total Divas...please..no fangs," sighed John, "She's got every right to be happy anyway."
"But it was her sister in the main event, not her."
"Less shop talk. Now in the bus, mush."
John had a wide a dimpled smirk on his face as he spanked Randy playfully.
"It had better be tidy," sulked Randy as he padded towards the imposing black vehicle. John nipped ahead of him and unlocked the door. He then paused to text his driver to let him know it was cool to get on the road to Corpus Christi. And to try and stall Randy from lynching him at the state of the bus.
"What's so fascinating about the drawers?" snarked Randy.
"Oh nothing," grinned John and he padded forward into the bedroom area.
"JOHN FELIX ANTHONY CENA!" bellowed Randy as he clocked the weekend's clothes all over the floor, screwed up...the bed unmade.
"I had a lot of media stuff..." John mumbled.
"Likely story," snarled Randy, going full on viper rage and thrusting his overnight bag into John's arms and stomping to the dresser, "Oh look, more trash belonging to jobbers." He then thundered into the kitchenette to grab a bin bag and started to throw the last of Zack;s clothes into it.
"Randal...stop...stop.."
"WHY?!"
"I need to tell you something."
"It can wait until this fucking dive is habitable again!" Randy was on the rampage, throwing stuff into the binbag. He then opened the bus window and tossed the bag out into the car park before slamming it shut. Muttering furiously to himself, he began to strip the bed, tossing the linens into the pile of other dirty laundry. John could only watch, still with both titles clasped together around his thick neck. Randy was cussing his head of and muttering as he went to the commode, yanked out fresh sheets and furously began to remake the bed.
"Have you finished yet?" asked John.
"NICE OF YOU TO HELP ME LAZY PRICK!" yelled Randy, "SEEING AS IT'S YOUR BUS!"
John sighed. And tried so hard not to laugh.
Half an hour later, Randy seemed satisfied with the tidiness of the bedroom. The laundry basket was over flowing. John knew he should have kept on top of it. The bar bells were all once again meticulously arranged in size order. John perched on the bed.
Randy unlaced his black boots, removed them and placed them neatly in the corner, along with his knee pads so he was just in his olive green snake tee and his trunks. He lay on the bed, making himself comfortable.
"Am I allowed to speak yet mother?" teased John.
"I might allow that," Randy smirked.
"On what grounds?"
"On the grounds that you stay up all night."
"Randall..."
"Fair's fair." Randy shrugged his hypermobile shoulders, "So go on. Spill."
"Randall..." John began, "No easy way to say this..."
He hated himself for the way the colour drained from the Viper's face and how that casually smirking countenance of arrogance fell into the most heartrending sadness.
"Fine, it's for the best," Randy huffed, getting to his feet.
"No wait!" John said, "I'm just playing...it's good. We're free."
"How do you mean 'were free'?"
"I mean...earlier on, Zack ended things. He was actually really mature and adult. Unusually. Maybe he's on some good meds or something. Whatever. Main thing is. You and I. No sneaking about anymore. Our bus again."
Randy pounced, pinning john's wrists to the bed. John looked a littler perturbed at the flashing in those intense, piercing eyes.
Until lips pressed against his.
"Thank you...Johnny..."
"So we gonna stop being so tetchy?"
"Might do."
Randy looked up at the mirror and smirked.
John rolled his eyes. He was SO predicatble.
"I'm going to start calling you Ratchet Randy," he grinned.
"Whatever, I'm getting this (he grabbed the front of John's shorts) and nobody else is. I'm allowed."
John smirked and casually removed his bright green tee. Randy swooned visibly. When he had John's hulking form beneath him on their bus like this...he seemed to just fill the room with muscles. And John's furious promo to Heyman and Cesaro. And his awesome match.
"I was so turned on watching your promo to Heyman and the Miz banging King Of Swing," purred Randy, caressing those huge pectorals, "I left a damp patch."
John howled with laughter.
"Only you would sweat over one of my promos," he chuckled.
"Was one of your best...I asked if I could cut one tomorrow on Smackdown," Randy went on.
"You can talk, you were VERY intense beating Reigns down," John said, "Did you imagine he was Zack?"
Randy avoided his eyes and whistled.
"Randal Keith Orton, am I going to have to apologise profusely to Samoans with L'Oreal manes of hair tomorrow?"
Randy began to whistle John's theme innocently, eyes travelling around the room.
"Randal Keith Orton, am I going to have to give you a spanking?" John was struggling to keep his face straight.
That shut Randy up.
"Johnny...?"
"On your hands and knees," growled John playfully, "Stephanie will be making Brie Bella her bitch...but tonight, I'm gonna make you MY bitch. Shirt off."
Randy couldn't take it off fast enough. He got onto all fours, his trunk clad ass up. John grinned. This was going to be a lot of fun.
At his Florida home, United States Champion Sheamus had just finished watching Raw. It had been nice to get a little downtime, even thought Wade was strictly on a no-strenous-activity order still. And this had been unexpected so he was home alone. Up until Raw it had been a Father Ted marathon and he was on his sixth Guinness can. Oh well, night in alone, might as well enjoy it. Yes, he was a total Irish stereotype but American beer was like rat's piss in his opinion anyway.
He opened up his laptop to video call Wade, his usual night time chore.
The bearded face appeared in the screen.
At Battleground, their time together was brief and had to be limited to just frotting, mutual tossing one another off...but Wade had given him some brilliant head. Soon their sex life will get back to high voltage like before.
"Alright," Wade smirked, "What do you make of that then?"
"Ladies are doing well," Sheamus said. It had caused him to burn with guilt to see Brie so much after everything he had been through with Daniel over the years. He was fully backing her main event push. She was a sweet girl. Sheamus felt by giving her his full support he was making up for being Daniel's illicit ex.
"Yeah, yeah," Wade said dismissively, "I watched it n'all. Do we have to talk about work?"
"What ya wanna talk about then?" grinned the Irishman.
"How comes you're off?" asked Wade, "And why am I not there?"
"Sappy git," chortled Sheamus, "Just a little downtime. Wasn't expecting it. And anyway, I'm not breaking your shoulder."
"It'll be fine, I'm so fucking horny man," Wade huffed, "Wanking more than a teenager just starting puberty."
"Strenuous activity," grinned Sheamus, "Good job it wasn't your plastering arm, huh?"
"I miss you Ste," rumbled Wade, cheeks flushing and cursing himself mentally for being such a sap.
Sheamus just grinned
"I miss your big soft arse n'all," he smirked, "Grow a set and admit your feelings."
"Shut the fuck up!" Wade hissed.
Sheamus laughed.
"Sounds like lack of sex is making you pissy," he teased.
"Bloody bastard right it is!" snarled Wade, "I'm having to fucking use my twatting fingers to get some fucking relief!"
"DIrty scrote," Sheamus chuckled.
"You better get your arse here pronto cos I don't give a toss if I never wrestle again...I just need a fucking shag!" complained Wade.
"You romantic, silver tongued charmer you," snarked Sheamus, "I cannot get over that your ex is prancing about with your title."
"You think I'm bloody thrilled with having to drop it to HIM?!" snapped Wade, "Ziggler's a right pain in the arse but at least he's more worthy than that fat wannabe Hollywood star."
"You used to shag that 'fat wannabe star' matey," Sheamus reminded him.
"Only cos he offered it on a plate and it was better than a wank," Wade sighed, shrugging. He noted Miz had come online. He had a bad feeling about that. Dunno why; "What's up with Cesaro by the way? Saw Sami Zayn had a right go at him on Twitter the other day?"
"No idea, I keep my nose out of the catfights," Sheamus replied.
"Hang on...someone;s just added me.." Wade said, "Do you know an SJ Keenan?"
"No," Sheamus said, "Be careful, if that's some scammer after your credit card.."
Wade accepted and then typed a message asking who it was.
SJ Keenan : hiiii hot Brit! Hows the shoulder? : D
B. N. Barrett : Er...fine thanks. Who is this? Sorry I don't talk to fans. How did you get my address?
SJ Keenan : not a fan, we work together silly : P and Danny Burch gave it to me. Perhaps this will remind you
SJ Keenan wants to share an image with you.
Wade accepted.
And the naked, tattooed form, laying on his stomach, his smooth, pale, pert ass with a 'JW' still visible on the left cheek, of Corey Graves appeared, tongue out sluttishly.
"OH BLOODY HELL!" cried Wade.
"What's the matter?" asked Sheamus.
"Bloody Corey Graves! Sent me a fucking nude!"
"What the? Oh jeez...I knew they called him Whorey Corey down there now...but really? Of course...Stirling James Keenan. His indie name. I hope you didn't look!"
"How could I not, I assumed it was a face picture!" spluttered Wade.
"You idiot, you could have asked for vid chat!" Sheamus said, laughing, "Your brains melted because of all the wanking."
"Not bloody helping!" spluttered Wade.
SJ Keenan: you like? ; )
SJ Keenan: hellooooo?
SJ Keenan : Naked and horny and on cam for you right now bad news : P know you live in Tampa. I could come over if u like? : D
BN Barrett: er...how can I put this? I am taken. Sorry mate.
SJ Keenan: So? Most men with BFS fuck about? Want some younger ass?
SJ Keenan would like to share a photo.
"You're looking more and more pissed off," chuckled Sheamus, "What's he doing now?"
"Trying to persuade me to let him come round," spat Wade, "Knew he was a fucking slag from what Paige said but I didn't think he was that..."
"You been conversing with girlies?" teased Sheamus.
"About the bloody Commonwealth!" Wade hissed.
He clicked the photo.
It was a grainy, badly lit photo taken on the webcam. Corey was bent over naked, his ass right up to the camera, his inked hand rubbing it.
"Might as well," Sheamus said, "You could certainly use some relief."
"WHAT?!" spat Wade.
"Well why not," Sheamus went on.
"Are you crackers?" Wade cried.
"I've got to head over to Corpus Christi in the morning, don't think I'm working but boss man says I have to be there to do a meet and greet," Sheamus said, "I'm gonna hit the sack. Look Stuey, we're blokes...we're casual. Just let him get you off."
"I'm not bloody cheating on you! This isn't Miz and the fucking Real Americans!" snapped Wade, "I'll watch some fucking porn if you've got to go!"
Sheamus howled with laughter.
"I'm not an over emotional lass," he said, "Just muck about on webcam, might make you less snappy and will get him off your back."
"I'll just block the dirty old slapper instead," growled Wade, "Not having him saving videos of me to use against me later. I'll talk to you tomorrow."
"See ya tomorrow grumpy bollocks."
"Arse."
"Love ya."
"Love ya too."
"Night."
SHeamus was shaking his head as he signed off.
Corpus Christi, TX
Dean Ambrose was stood reeling. After having his match with Seth written off the Battleground card at the last minute, tonight on Smackdown, he was finally allowed to get his hands on his ex boyfriend. Freshly stung from ending his fling with Swagger, the Lunatic Fringe really wasn't a happy camper.
"How you doing kid?" came a deep voice and Dean looked up at the imposing figure of Kane, who wasn't in costume. Kane was a sound, professional company guy, much like his legendary on screen 'brother'.
"Been better," Dean admitted, "Looks like they put you in to stop shit going overboard."
"True," Kane replied, "That's why it's a handicap."
"OK, well, let me know when you want to go through stuff," Dean said, "Though I refuse to talk to HIM. So may need you there."
The large man sighed and walked away. He had been warned about the drama between Rollins and Ambrose by Reigns. Sometimes these indie types just needed to put shit behind them even for a ten minute match segment.
Dean was itching to finally beat the crap out of Seth in that ring. He was still so angry. And despite sleeping around horrendously since their breakup...he missed Seth. And he knew it. Even if he couldn't admit it. He was really starting to like Swagger. Maybe it was for the best that it broke off before he got attached.
"AMBROSE!" came a roar, startling Dean.
The Cincinnati native was faced with the flashing blue eyes of another fellow Ohian. A fuming Miz.
"WHo the fuck do you think you are? Jakey not good enough for you?!" spat Mike.
"Excuse me?" Dean squared up to the suited man. Red chinos and a black jacket? Who the hell dressed that guy? Was that how they thought A-listers dressed?
"You dumped him last night! And now he still doesn't want me!" Mike hissed.
"Not my problem," shrugged Dean.
"Asshole!"
"What do you care, you're riding fucking Cesaro. And I don't give empty threats fatso. I warned you to stay away from me or I'll smash your face into the wall."
"SKANK!"
Dean grabbed Mike by the throat.
"I'm gonna give you one last chance Mizanin," he growled, "You suck at wrestling, and you can;t handle a real fight. I dispatched a fat cunt like Axel so you'll be no problem. Big deal. Swagger preferred me to you. Build a bridge and get over it."
"How...how...is..darling Seth? Looked very friendly with Reigns?" choked Mike, still managing to give Dean a malicious sneer.
Dean roared with fury and threw Mike to the floor. He stomped the older man hard in the stomach, winding him.
"My fucking ribs!" Mike gasped hoarsely, "You've cracked them!"
His stomach was hurting like fuck. He could barely breathe. That...Ambrose really was psycho! As well as a dirty, moral-less whore!
"If I had," snarled Dean, "You'd know about it. Look at you...clean yourself up!"
He ripped his white vest off and tossed it to Mike before sauntering away.
Jack Swagger had heard the commotion. He had come to find Dean, tell him that he was too hasty and that he shouldn't have kicked him to the kerb like that. But he saw Mike writhing on the floor and Dean, bare-chested and panting.
"What's going on?" he demanded.
"Girl talk," scoffed Dean.
Jack may find Mike really, really annoying but Dean had no right to start throwing his weight around. Oh jeez. Great. More drama. It had taken this long for him to get a face run as good as the one he was having with Rusev. Tonight was shaping up to be shit, because who was his opponent tonight? Fucking Cesaro, his former tag partner. And former fuck buddy. And former menage-a-quatre partner with Mike and Wade. Though they hadn;t been involved with the Brit during that.
"Don't worry," Dean sneered, spotting Jack shoot a look of concern at Mike and stung, "Everything YOU'RE interested in is still in working order."
Jack huffed and stomped to Mike, pulling him to his feet.
"Jakeee..." gasped Mike, "My hero...you saved me..."
"Just tidy your fat ass up before Hunter sees you!" growled Jack, not in the mood.
"But Jakey...he hurt me! You gonna let him hurt me?!"
Jack was already walking away.
"DON'T WALK AWAY FROM ME!" roared Mike, finding his breath at last.
Jack grabbed Dean by the arm and hauled him into a side room, determined to quash this ridiculous drama before it blew up and cost him his push.
"You mad psycho prick! What the hell were you playing at?!" he snarled at Dean.
"YOU'VE BEEN SCREWING HIM!" erupted Dean, eyes popping. Yes. That's why Jack dumped his ass! He'd been played again! Why did guys ALWAYS play him?! Was Dean not worthy of just being loved?
"For Christ's sake!" Jack cried with frustration, "What would I want with an overweight, overrated thing like that who can't work a decent match?"
"You screwed him before...you and fucking Cesaro used to take turns!" Dean spat.
"That was ages ago!"
"And he was banging Barrett as well. That what you like, huh? I liked you Jake! I liked you a lot! I bet you treat all the guys you want to fuck the same to get a piece of ass! We have fucking feelings too! Just because you're cheating on your wife!"
"Don';t you fucking go there..."
SMACK!
Dean slapped Jack around the face.
"I deserve so much better than a cheating piece of shit like you! I trusted you Jake!"
"You knew what you were getting into when you hit me up," Jack hissed, holding his face, "I'm married. This was just sex, Moxley. Just sex. I only did what you wanted. This was never gonna be a relationship. You can go back to Ziggler or whomever hits you up here in Corpus Christi."
"Asshole...! You used me!"
"Damn right I used you Moxley just like you used half the country's indie wrestlers! You've been fucked more times than the economy! Get your slutty ass down of your high horse!"
"I hope Cesaro breaks you tonight and I hope Rusev buries your cheating ass at SummerSlam!" Dean cried, barely holding back unwanted, furious tears, "Go to fucking hell!"
He stormed out before anyone saw he was in tears. Dean was not a crier. He had to find a mens room and sort himself out. He covered his face. He'd had enough. He really thought he'd found someone to distract him from losing Seth. But Jack was worse than Seth! At least Seth and he had a relationship! All because of his god-damn insecurity!
"Dean? Dean? Sweetie...what's the matter?"
"Codes...leave me alone."
"Oh no. Hug."
Cody grabbed Dean and hugged him tight, totally gobsmacked when hoarse, growly sobs sounded into his chest and those bandaged arms clutched him tight.
"Hey hey," soothed the young ravenette, "What happened?"
"Hager is a fucking cunt," Dean choked, "He fucking used me!"
"I did try and warn you..."
"YEAH GO ON! SAY IT YOU SMUG BASTARD! I TOLD YOU SO!"
"Don't bite my head off Dean I was only saying..."
"WELL DON'T!" roared Dean, fighting Cody off, "How about you KEEP YOUR FUCKING GOLD PAINTED NOSE OUT OF MY BUSINESS!"
"Dean, please..."
"LEAVE ME ALONE OR I SWEAR I WILL BREAK YOUR FUCKING NOSE FOR THE SECOND TIME AND YOU'LL NEED MORE THAN A STUPID MASK!"
His eyes were popping once more and Cody was terrified. No wonder he was called the lunatic fringe. He genuinely looked like he would pull a revolver from his pocket and aim it at Cody.
"Ok...OK..." Cody backed away.
Dean, now raging worse than ever, didn't know what to do! What a smug asshole! Cody thought he was so helpful and he had no idea what Dean was feeling! Ok for HIM! He had a guy who loved him! And a fucking wife to boot! Who did Dean really have? Nobody! Seth hated him. Jack hated him. Most of the guys trod carefully around him because of his slutty reputation or because of his quick temper.
Cody had been his only real friend of late. And now he'd just pushed Cody away.
There was only one thing necessary to take his mind off of this before the handicap match later on. He tapped a text.
To: Ziggler
where you at. I need a fuck. Now.
From: Ziggler
Don't hit me up man. You're messing with Swaggs. Not into you anymore.
Even Dolph had lost interest in him.
Dean just wanted some attention. He was frustrated. Lonely. Angry. Depressed. At least if he had his brains fucked out he could forget who he was for just a few minutes. But if he admitted defeat he'll only get walked over. Fuck it.
He tapped a reply to Dolph.
To: Ziggler
Swagger doesn't want me. Wifey has his balls. C'mon Nick, doncha want some relief? ;)
From: Ziggler
Suppose it's better than trying to find a chick after the show. As long as U don't fall in love afterwards.
Dean was stung at the shady reply but he supposed he deserved it. He looked around to see that he was alone before unbuttoning his jeans and briefs (well he thought wear sexy ones just in case Jack would come round) and dropping them to his ankles. He then took a selfie from above to show his bare ass and stuck his tongue out wantonly. He sent it to Dolph.
From: Ziggler.
OK you got me. Instant boner. Whereabouts you at? ; )
To: Ziggler
Corridor 3B. Bend me over a box and nail me you hot stud :P
Dean didn't bother dressing. He found a wires box and just bent over. He didn't care. He was the locker room slut. Someone had to be. Never know, a horny roadie might see him and want a piece as well.
Dolph made his way along the corridors...3B...oh wow...Dean was so desperate he was naked virtually. At work. WHere anyone could find him. Dolph padded up to the horny younger man and spanked that bare, smooth ass.
Dean moaned.
"Well here there, someone feeling the strain?" Dolph drawled.
"Oh fuck Nicky...unzip and stick it in me."
"So classy as always."
"No time for class. Just a fuck. I've prepped. Just unzip and enter."
Dolph unzipped his black trunks and jerked his hardening cock. He pulled a condom sachet from his white and black boot and tore it open before unrolling it onto himself.
Dean shuffled back, bending over so more, holding his cheeks open. Dolph spat on his hand and slicked his covered cock before lining up and entering that still-tight hole.
Dean let out a slutty whorish groan of relief as he was penetrated. He'd only lightly prepped himself and it hurt a bit semi-dry. But he didn't care. Just fuck him. Take his troubles away for a moment.
"Pull my hair and don't fucking pussy out," he snarled.
Dolph smirked. Dean was an addictive dirty little secret. He was such a disposable slut. He grabbed the tousled, messy brown hair and pulled Dean back before snapping his hips back and forth mercilessly, skin slapping loudly on skin, echoing off the painted breezeblock walls and lino floor deafingly. Dean was moaning and mewling loudly, not caring who could hear him.
"Oh yeah...fuck me...fuck me...more damnit...make me your bitch Nemeth...yes...oh fuck yes...yes..."
"Ain't got time to smash your clit," snarled Dolph, reaching around to jerk Dean's weeping cock, "Gonna get ya off with my hand..."
"Just don't fucking stop," gasped Dean, "Yeah...fuck yeah...fuck!"
Dolph was pounding him hard, the thrill of being caught crushing him and spurring him on. Anyone could walk through here. Anyone. He was roughly fisting Dean's cock as he continued to fuck that too-willing, slutty ass.
"Ohhh! YES! FUCK...KEEP GOING!" cried Dean.
Dolph yanked his hair some more.
"Noise down slut," he snarled.
"Yes master," whined Dean.
Wow. He could be really submissive. Dolph had no idea. He always thought Dean gave back as good as he got during hookups. He released Dean's cock and spanked him on the ass instead.
Dean cried out in pleasure.
So Dolph did it again.
And again.
Before resuming hard, frantic fucking and once more jerking Dean off.
Suddenly Dean tensed and screamed obscenities as his release sprayed the black wires box in front of them. That had felt so good. Just what he needed. A release.
"Pull out!" he gasped.
Dolph did so.
Dean sank to his knees and ripped the condom roughly off Dolph, fixing his flashing eyes at Dolph, an insanely lustful expression on his face now.
"Jizz on my face you stud," he panted.
Dean was washing his face in the men's room.
He looked at his reflection.
Empty blue eyes stared back at him.
What had he done?
He'd gone back to that prick Ziggler. And let himself get used yet again. After all the angst and yelling at Cody...he'd gone right back and done what Dean Ambrose does best...act the cheap, sleazy, easy slut.
And how he'd managed to find the restroom with Dolph's essence all over his face and in his hair without seeing officials was a miracle.
One of the stalls flushed and Dean froze.
He thought it was empty.
Fuck.
Who was in there?
Please don't be an official. Or Vince. Or Hunter.
Seth Rollins froze too.
He'd heard muttering but hadn't made the connection.
Dean.
He looked so broken. He was stood staring at himself.
His bare, taped upper body looked sweat sheened.
He stank. Of sweat. And sex.
Seth almost wanted to throw up.
Dean had probably just been nailed by whomever. Swagger. Or anyone with a penis and unattached.
The Money In The Bank holder tried to shuffle out.
But Dean had clocked him in the mirror.
How could Seth avoid this. They had a fucking match tonight for Christ's sake. With the veteran Kane. They had to act professional.
"Running away again are you?!"
Seth paused in his tracks and turned to stare at Dean who was glowering at him.
"I'm just going to Catering?" Seth deadpanned.
"Whatever Colby. Avoiding me. As usual."
"Jon. Not at work. Don't make this shit any worse than it is."
"What's the matter asshole? Scared of everyone realising what a self serving cunt you are?!"
"Me? I'm not the one offering himself to anything male and with a damn pulse!"
"Yes well, you can bang Roman all you like! He's all yours!"
"We've not spoken that much. You see him more than me!"
"BULLSHIT! YOU'RE FUCKING HIM! HE'S SO FUCKING CAGEY SO IT'S UNSURPRISING!" roared Dean.
Seth let out an incredulous, humourless laugh. The sound rang horribly in Dean's ears. Seth spotted something in Dean's hair...ugh. That was some chump's nut. No mistake. Gross. Seth was finding it harder and harder to still be attracted to Dean when he conducted himself like this.
"You missed a bit," he snarked, "Wonder who blew their load over your face today? Rusev maybe? Or was it Del Rio? Or Big E? Oh no I forgot, it's the new love of your life, a married lug from Oklahoma."
"ASSHOLE!"
Dean was now right in Seth's face. They were almost nose to nose.
"Get out my face," snapped Seth.
"You get out of mine Lopez..or I'll fucking break your legs right now. Don't want to wait until the match."
"You're full of shit. No wait, full of someone's cum usually. You make me sick Moxley, you know that."
"You were the worst fuck anyway! You don't know HOW to fuck because secretly you fucking crave being dominated! Why else did you wear those fucking briefs in the indies, TYLER BLACK! TYLER SLACK more like! You were probably getting raped by everything too!"
Seth couldn't believe it. Dean was losing it. Part of him just wanted to smack Dean in the face. PArt of him just wanted his other half back. But it was adding to much intensity and passion to their feud. Officials liked the real anger that erupted between them on screen. The hits and bumps were real. They'd really hurt and battered one another the past few weeks.
But the way Dean was fixing him with that insane, poppy-eyed glare right now told him that getting through the elder man was pointless.
Seth just shook his head and left the bathroom.
Smackdown had just wrapped for the night. It had been a pretty rocky, eventful working night for many. And that was just behind the scenes.
Cody was happy because he'd found out he'd got a match (once more against his bestie Curtis) on Raw next week; Paige had thrown AJ Lee off the stage 'accidentally' harder than she intended and took great pleasure in gloating. But Dean Ambrose felt worse than ever after having to face Seth and Kane. The tension in the air between them was palpable. Atmosphere didn;t even begin to describe it.
Dean also felt really bad about blowing up at Cody earlier. One of the few people left here that seemed to speak to him like a human being and not treating him with kid gloves. He was waiting in the car park. He even drove here alone because nobody would have him in their rentals. He was watching the small throngs of officials, roadies, crew and occasional superstars and divas file out of the arena.
He saw Paige, Summer and Cody walk out, followed by Curtis Axel and instantly Dean's heart sank. He was not in the mood for another fight. Why couldn't Axel fuck off with Ryback?
Dean hovered over his contact list.
He dialled Cody and watched the ravenette. Sure enough Cody picked up his vibrating phone and scowled a little.
"What?"
"Hey...where are you?"
"About to hit the road. Not a good time."
"Parking lot. Need to talk."
A huff.
"Fine. Make it quick."
Dean supposed he deserved being given short-shrift. He told Cody gruffly where he was and waited. Sure enough within two minutes, Cody appeared.
"What do you want?" he snapped, "Not in the mood to be insulted again, Dean."
"Wanted to apologise," Dean replied, "I was an asshole."
"Damn right you were. I was only trying to be a friend and you threw it back in my face," Cody scowled, "I did warn you about being involved with a married man."
"Yeah...thing is...I...went back to Ziggler..."
"WHEN?!" cried Cody.
"Earlier tonight. Work fuck. Yeah, go on, yell at me. Shoot me."
Cody just shook his head. He felt really sorry for Dean. So popular with the fans, so talented, so raw. Underneath was a wretched, vulnerable soul. He just went to hug Dean once more, rubbing his back, unable to stay mad at him. He could already sense Curtis' disapproval but Curtis would just have to understand. Cody was a Nice Boy. He was just being a friend to someone who needed one. He'd been grateful to those who helped him through heartbreak.
"Why?" he whispered, "You and I both know that you're just a breathing fleshlight to him."
"I needed to take my mind off of stuff," Dean murmured.
"But a cheap bang at work?"
"Meant I didn;t have to think about...him...for a few minutes."
"Why don't you go to him? Swallow your pride Dean. You pushed him away. You should make the effort."
It stabbed Dean in the stomach. But the Cincinnati native knew it was the truth. He had accused Seth of ditching their relationship for the sake of a main event push. Dean's body count since their break up was disgustingly high. Dolph several times, the fling with Jack...nameless anon tricks hit up on Grindr after house shows..Dean's jeans spent more time round his ankles than they did up around his waist.
"Why do you have time for me?" he asked Cody, "You hate Miz for being slutty...you hated Josh for being slutty...even though you were a slut...what's different about me?"
"Because I know cries for help when I see them," Cody whispered, "I can see you in me...not literally by the way honey...when I lost Joshy...before I got with Teddy...I was just like that. Dean...Ziggler is a selfish prick. He doesn't care about you. And he's not that amazing in bed."
"Speak for yourself, he made me scream," Dean scowled.
"Oh me too," Cody said, "Only I screamed Joshy's name when I nutted so yeah...he wasn't that great. He used me...I didn't plan hitting him up, just thought he was being nice to me."
"Please," Dean scoffed, "How long have you known him.."
"I know, guess time clouded my judgement...it was how he wound up blowing my back out in 2009...we were drunk..he acted like a good friend..next thing I know I'm sucking his cock. Not quite as shameful as the time Miz and I blew one another. When he was dating Joshy. And I was still with Teddy."
"Wait...WHAT?!" Now it was Dean's turn to be gobsmacked.
"Ages ago...2011," Cody said, "Basically, Miz had drama with Joshy...Teddy and I had had a row...we checked into this shitheap of a motel to get away. We started kissing...I begged him to fuck me...for once he had the brains and said no. But he was horny. And so was I. So mutual blowjob."
"You begged that fat piece of trash to fuck you...even I wouldn't..." Dean was incredulous.
"I'm not an angel Dean, I have a ratchet past," Cody said, before gazing at his beloved promise ring from Josh, "You and Seth should just talk. Don't make it all about the sex. How much time did you spend on the prelim stuff? Foreplay?"
"Huh?"
"Serious question Dean. Cos if it's just always breifs, uncap the lube and wham bam thank you sir..."
"It is...apart from that time recently...which by the way was incredible...and then...we broke up...why's that important?"
"You're afraid of intimacy," Cody said simply.
"What's the point when all they wanna do is blow a load?" Dean said sadly, "Part and parcel about sex with dudes, Cody. We;re not chicks. Just because we're the ones that get dicked."
"Guys have feelings too Dean, even you. You're insecure. What was so special about Swagger. Tell me."
"He..." Dean was bright red, not that the night sky showed, "Kissed me. Held me. Touched me. Didn't just lube up and stick it in. It was nice."
"See, I was right," Cody said, "He gave you what you wanted. Intimacy."
"I really started to like him," huffed Dean.
"No you liked that he did more than just fuck," Cody said, "You still love Seth. If you really didn't feel anything for him you wouldn't talk about him...or not talk about him."
"Have to work with him, bit hard not to," snarled Dean, before his shoulders slackened and he sighed heavily, "Course I fucking still love him! 3 years! He was the first guy in years who liked me for me and not just mad-ass Jon Moxley or Lunatic Fringe or whatever!"
"He saw the real Jonny from Cincinnati and not Rated M Moxley or Loony Bin Ambrose," Cody said, "Dean, trust me. I know the feeling. Curtis and I talk about schluballybub."
"What?!"
"Schluballybub...in your stomach...did you get that with Seth...when you first saw him...thought about him flirting with another guy..?"
Dean paused to think. Yeah. He did.
"But what's that got to do with getting past my gimmick?" asked Dean.
"I got schluballybub with Joshy day I met him. He didn't, well most of the time, talk about who my family were and stuff. He saw me, plain and simple Cody from Georgia, not baby Rhodes."
"Or the Fitch model with the perfect body and horse dick," Dean said.
Cody glared at him.
"Sorry, just saying what everyone thinks of you," Dean replied, shrugging, "You're one of the hottest guys to ever step into a WWE ring. And your trunks and catsuit don't hide that heat. How many guys have you been with who didn't talk about the size of your cock or your body? Or your face? You hide in those kiddie Marvel hoodies and fake-ass glasses now but you're not fooling anyone. Those stupidly groomed eyebrows are still there."
"None...except Teddy...and Joshy..." Cody replied, "And even they comment on my looks. Looks fade, Dean. What's inside that counts. Only trim my brows because if I didn't I'd look like Bigfoot."
"You were the kind of guy I'd cross a crowded gay club to avoid," admitted Dean, "Twink who knows how hot he is and only talks to hotties."
"I'm not a twink," Cody sighed, "I'm 29..I'm jacked...OK I manscape but that's just because I like being smooth. Not about me Dean. Stop changing the subject and think about how you can talk to Seth."
Dean sighed. Well it had been worth a try. Cody was a smart cookie.
"OK," he said, "Maybe you're right. Seth...Colby...was the first guy to not expect Rated M For Moxley in bed. He always said how he just saw me as me, not as 'Dean Ambrose', or 'Jon Moxley'. Just like he's not 'Seth ROllins' to me."
"And Joshy was never 'announcer Josh' to me, just the first friend I made on my call-up, my bestie...my partner in crime...my partner full stop," Cody said, "You feel exactly the same way about Seth as I do about Joshy. Little question. If that arena was on fire right now, who would you save? Ziggler? Swaggs? or Seth?"
"Sethie..."
"Yep. And you called him Sethie."
"Did I?"
"Yep."
Dean looked at the floor.
"I really need to get going," Cody said, "See you during the week. Just...do one thing. Remove Grindr from your phone."
"But.."
"Now. I want to see you delete it."
Dean sighed and unlocked his phone. He reluctantly deleted Grindr.
"I will be on MY account later purely to see if you are on," COdy said sternly, "If I see you appear..."
"I won't! What would you do about it anyway?" snapped Dean.
"And Growlr. And Manhunt. And Tinder," Cody went on, hands on hips like a schoolteacher, "Delete them all."
Dean did so.
"But what if I need attention?"
"This might sound unbelievable but watch some porn."
"But why when I could just hit someone up?"
"Has this been a total waste of time Dean? Yeah so what, you won't feel some strainger's balls slapping against your hole. Use your fingers, it's an underrated experience when you're alone. Talk to Seth. I mean it."
"Too much info," huffed Dean, "But fine, I will."
"Good. See you around."
"Yeah, laters."
OK this probably might not have been what y'all expected after such a long delay but I had writer's block in additon to everything else! Only some smut this time but originally it did get a bit Miz heavy and I know he's not everyone's fave.
Guess what? Shade came back! Admittedly with Sheamus being AWOL and all it's hard to insert them in but I thought that'll link this with the NXT stuff I've done. That Corey be a whorey.
Dean. Poor, poor Dean :( He and Seth need to just stop being such dicks and man the hell up, huh?
And Zack has got some common sense at last! He finally realised he could not compete with RKO for big Johnny's affections. And we got to see Dolph in a decent light for a small time...before he went back to banging Dean. Anyway I hope you liked this. As you can see, there's somewhat of a 'moving on' theme with this chapter.