A/n from Jessica: I f'ing love the finished version of this. I swear if writing didn't take all day I'd do it much more.
Disclaimer: I own no one
Randy continued to mutter in annoyance as he tore his way through the backstage. Being forced to deal with incompetent idiots on a regular basis was beginning to put a toll on his nerves and he was pissed off. Was every person in a position of power a thoughtless moron? Having him wrestle in throwaway matches each week with King as a tag team partner? Who in the hell thought it was a good idea for someone not even involved in the title picture, not only in the main event, but actually WIN the match? HE was the one who ought to be the victor, not some old dilapidated veteran who didn't know his place. Call him a spoiled brat all you wanted, but Randy was the one who wanted to shine in the spotlight, screw any of the up and comers; it was still his time to shine.
Randy cursed to himself, making his way through a crowd of stage hands, each of them practically jumping out of the way as he moved, continuing his search. Randy was pissed. And when Randy was pissed, he needed a way to release his anger. And since the higher ups no longer tolerated lashing out violently, he had to find alternative means.
He made his way into catering, still in his wrestling gear, sweaty and panting, and strolled up to the familiar man animatedly talking with Truth.
"…I'll just have to leave it up to them; I delivered my end, it depends on whether or not they give me the—"
Mor glanced up behind Truth's back into the stormy blue eyes of Randy. Oh…fuck. He was definitely in one of his moods. His chest stuttered breathlessly, "Randy…hi."
Randy leaned against the table, moving into John's personal space, eyes narrowing as Truth made his leave, "John."
John took a moment to silently gather himself, taking a few deep breaths, "h-how are you?"
Randy rolled his neck, allowing the silence to become almost uncomfortable, letting John squirm for a bit. "Well, not too good John. I was wondering if you could help me with that."
John bit his lip, glancing up at Randy from underneath hooded lashes, "and what would you like me to help you with Randy?"
Randy leaned closer, letting his breath ghost across John's lips, John absent-mindedly tracing his tongue across them, dropping his voice, "I think you know, John."
Randy didn't leave any time for John to try and gather a response. Before he could try to make an escape, Randy captured John's lips in his, aggressively biting and nipping at them, subtly reminding John of another man.
Randy pulled away from John with a growl, eyes dark with the lust that had been released.
"Randy I'm sorry, I-I can't." John wiped his lips with his wrist, almost trying to get rid of the guilt and the taste of Randy himself, "I'm in a relationship now, I can't do this 'one night stand' thing with you again."
John slowly raised his gaze to Randy, hoping not to see the anger he knew would be written across his face, slightly surprised as Randy brushed him off, heading off to another part of the arena.
Randy made his way through the hallway to his locker room, searching the faces that lined the walls for his next go-to lay.
The fact that Morrison had rejected him meant so little to Randy he was surprised he was thinking of him at all. He had dozens of hot young things practically panting at the thought of being with him for one night, the loss of one of his usual main stays meant nothing to him; there were always more.
Randy licked his lips as he passed Punk, turning to watch the older man walk in the other direction. Not that many years ago, Randy had tried for a go with CM Punk, but with the other's straight edge morals and declarations of no promiscuous sex, he'd given up on that venture after a while.
Randy continued walking towards his room; oh but what he'd give to take the straight edge superstar to his bed.
Randy reached his room, quickly showering and changing into his clothes. He still felt the need to let go of some tension, but his choices were a bit limited now that most of the roster had gone back to the hotel for the night.
Randy gathered his things, silently weighing the options in his head.
Ted was definitely one of the possibilities. Randy had gotten a chance to know the younger man quite well during their time as a faction, and sleeping with Ted wouldn't be too hard to arrange; it's not like he hadn't before.
While he was a good lay, there was too much baggage when it came to Ted. It seems that during their time together, he'd developed feelings for Randy, a classic mistake when it came to the many men he'd slept with.
Randy didn't care one way or the other if Ted liked him. He was in it for the physical satisfaction, and to Randy, it wasn't his problem if Ted read too much into things.
On the other hand, there was always Gabriel. The young South African had been throwing himself at Randy for quite some time, at least as long as he'd been in the company. He'd been meaning to try out Justin one of these days, but if he were being honest with himself, the blatant come on's were a bit nauseating. Gabriel literally swarmed Randy each chance he was given and at times it got old.
Randy stepped out of his locker room, shouldering his bag, skimming through the roster in his head.
The name of the WWE champion hit him at the same time the actual man did, Miz accidentally running into Randy's arms.
"Oh I'm sor—Randy," Mike said with a smirk, voice lowering to a husky purr, "hi."
"Mizanin," Randy murmured, eyes flashing as Mike squirmed in his arms, eliciting a reaction from below his belt.
"How are we doing tonight, baby?" Mike ran his hand up and down Randy's sculpted chest, smirking wider when he reached down and squeezed Randy's member now hard in his jeans.
Randy growled, turning and roughly pinning Mike to the nearest wall, leaning down to devour his offered neck. "Why don't we cut the bullshit?"
Mike indulged Randy for a bit, allowing him to sharply nibble at his lower lip and neck, before pulling back, slowly moving away.
"Sorry babe—can't tonight." Mike said, holding his hands up as Randy began to advance towards him.
"…Mike," Randy growled. There was no way he was letting Mike get away with that.
"Randy…come on, I told you. I can't do it tonight." Mike's eyes widened as he lost a fragment of control, backing himself into a corner, Randy methodically walking toward him.
Randy boxed Mike in with his arms, putting one on either side of his head, "You don't really think you're getting away with doing that are you?"
Mike brought his lip between his teeth, gnawing on it gently, the act not lost on Randy. He looked from Randy to the door next to them, wondering if he could make a run to his car.
He chose against it—that would be a really stupid move anyway—and wrapped his arms around Randy's neck, surprising him with a kiss before he got a chance to retaliate. He let Randy do what he wanted with him, opening his mouth to let in Randy's tongue as it wrestled with his own.
Panting and achingly hard, Randy pulled away from Mike, reaching down to unzip his jeans, indicating Mike should do the same.
"Hang on." Mike reached for Randy's hands, stilling their work. "I still have somewhere else I need to be; Cena already called dibs for the rest of the night."
"But," Mike stopped Randy before he could go off on one of his IED tirades, "I can make it up to you."
Mike lowered himself to his knees, quickly removing Randy's hard member from its confines. "Real quick, okay?"
Mike lowered his head, sucking the head into his mouth, tonguing the slit as he worked the rest of Randy's shaft with his hand.
Randy's moans sounded above him, spurring Mike on. He pulled his lips off, slowly jacking him, and spit on the head, the sight causing Randy to groan lowly. Mike took him into his mouth, moving his head down slowly, allowing the tip to poke the back of his throat.
Randy grunted at the wet heat around his dick, grabbing Mike's hair roughly in his hands, and moving him across his dick, thrusting up into the delicious mouth.
Mike put his hands on either side of Randy on the wall he was leaning against, giving him some balance as Randy's hips quickly moved back and forth, thrusting into his throat.
"Uhh…fuck!" Randy yelled as he climaxed, shooting thick spurts down Mike's throat, Mike swallowing each drop, knowing by now that Randy wouldn't like it too much if he didn't.
Mike cleaned him up, slowly dragging his tongue across Randy's dick, smirking slightly as it stirred underneath his ministrations.
Randy leaned against the wall, panting. No matter who he slept with, none of them could give a better blowjob than Mike.
Mike rose to his feet, adjusting his appearance and brushing invisible lint off his pristine outfit. "If I know you as well as I think I do," He began, tucking Randy back into his jeans, "you are no where near done for the night."
Mike paused, allowing Randy the option of disagreeing, smiling when he just raised an eyebrow. "Thought so. Well since I can't be the one helping you out with that, I'm gonna go ahead and make a call for you."
Randy opened his mouth to object, "Don't worry," Mike said, cutting him off, "I know you'll appreciate this one."
Mike offered Randy a quick kiss before turning to leave, pulling out his phone and quickly dialing as he left.
Randy smirked, his jeans already growing tight at the thought.
Randy drove as fast as the speed limit allowed, anxious at just who Mike had gotten in contact with. He knew Randy's taste in men almost better than Randy himself, and there was no doubt that whoever it was would definitely be worth it.
Randy's tongue traced his lips, allowing himself to drift off in thought at the possibilities. One of the new rookies, maybe? Or maybe he'd called one of the Smackdown stars, seeing as how they were in the same city as Raw for the night.
He let his thoughts trail to the stars of the blue brand, smiling as he pulled into the hotel's parking lot. He made his way through the building, anticipation rising as his thoughts narrowed to one man in particular, no doubt left in his mind that Mike had called him.
Randy ran his key card through the slot, letting the moment build as he opened the door, eyes glazing over as he spotted the one who'd been dominating his thoughts so much recently.
The Dashing One smirked, rising from his place on Randy's bed as he slowly made his way towards Randy, the sheet that had been wrapped around his waist falling to the floor, revealing his naked form.
"Randy…" Cody's eyes trailed over Randy, lingering on the front of his jeans. "Looks like you missed me, huh?"
Randy tried to speak, his mouth suddenly very dry.
"Don't worry baby, I know you did." Cody reached out, stripping Randy of his shirt. "Missed you a lot too…" His eyes roamed appreciatively across Randy's chest, mouth practically watering at the hard muscles on display.
Randy reacted first, pushing Cody backwards towards the bed. "Yeah I missed you," Randy pushed him onto the bed, climbing on top and attacking his neck, "so fucking much Cody."
Cody moaned as Randy moved downwards, bringing one of the hard nipples into his mouth, biting and sucking hard before soothing it with tongue.
"Randy, please…" Cody begged, raising his arms above his head and grabbing the headboard as Randy moved over to the other stiff bud. "Please Randy, fuck me."
Randy growled, Cody's moans and pleas getting him harder than he'd been in a long time. He ripped his belt out of the loops, tossing it somewhere behind him as he began work on his jeans, trying to quickly rid himself of his clothes.
Cody leaned up impatiently, stopping Randy as he tried in vain to lower his zipper. He bent down, capturing it between his teeth, and moved slowly downwards. Randy panted, the sight of Cody so close to his dick spurring on the already blatant wet spot.
Once Randy's jeans and briefs were out of the way, Cody laid back on his back, legs spread eagle as he offered himself to Randy.
Randy reached toward the night stand for the lube he kept there, Cody grabbing his hand, stopping him.
"Don't bother," Cody said, panting as he took his member in his hand, jacking slowly. "I already took care of all the prep earlier. Just fuck me."
Randy's eyes flashed at the sight, glancing down to jack himself off a bit before he got in position at Cody's entrance.
Randy groaned at the tightness as he pushed into Cody, the heat practically choking his dick. "Fuck Cody. We've done this a million times," Randy said as he seated himself fully inside Cody, "how in the hell are you still so tight?"
Cody bit his lip and looked up at Randy with bedroom eyes, "too much, baby?"
Randy grunted, shaking his head as he pulled out to the tip, snapping his hips forward.
Cody cried out, moaning lowly as Randy thrust in and out of his body. His grip on the headboard tightened, his fingers turning white with his hold.
"Too much?" Randy teased, stabbing Cody's prostate with viciousness.
"Randy! Oh fuck, so good." Cody wrapped his legs around Randy, reaching down to take his member in his hand. "Harder Randy, please."
Randy obliged his request, grasping at the sheets next to him, as he plunged himself further into Cody, deeper and deeper until he was a whimpering mess below him.
Cody gasped, his body going still as he came, thick strands of cum landing on his stomach and across his chest.
Randy moaned as Cody's walls clenched around him, milking his orgasm from him and he came with a cry, grunting as he coated Cody's insides with his cum, finally sating his anger and frustration.
Randy panted, moving up the bed toward Cody as he plopped down next to him, completely exhausted.
Randy nodded, moving his arms behind his head, "Much."
Cody smiled, cuddling up to Randy as he bent down to lick some of the remaining sweat off his pec. "I hope you're not finished."
Randy looked down at Cody, grunting approvingly as Cody continued licking a trail across his chest. He reached down, stilling him, a devious look on his face.
"You bet your tight ass I'm not."
A/n from Jessica: I really liked this story. It was just a quick one shot of a plot I'd had in my head for awhile. Isn't it awesome how everyone in this story's a whore? lol. I totally love it.
Review please! :)