Disclaimer: I do not own anything dealing with WWE or the rights to any products or persons mentioned in the story as well.

Warning: There is harsh language and adult themes as well as slash between some of the characters (mostly M/M).

Song: "Take a Bow" - Madonna

Dedication: BlackDiamonds.32.20.54 - she's an awesome writer that kept me pushing to update my first fanfic. When I wanted to stop, I would reread her comments. slashdlite - for worrying about me when things were out of control in my life. Bravada - This story has been on my mind for awhile and I didn't know how to start this it until I read "Scattered." It hit me like a brick to the face. Busy people on the go and their temporary home would be hotels.

Chapter One

Mike walked through the hotel lobby with a smile plastered on his face. He moved through the crowd like a ballerina dancing across the stage. He had just gotten his boyfriend the best fucking deal possible for a new movie, "Long Hard Road." John Morrison has been blowing on the main stream for five years now thanks to his dutifully boyfriend, Mike. Not only could John act, but he was also an accomplished musician and model. Mike saw it fit to label him the next Jim Morrison since John could pass for the legend.

Mike stood in front of the elevators. He could not wait tell JoMo the news. He bounced on the balls of his feet while he waited patiently. He shoved his hands into his pants' pockets as he stepped into the cab and pressed the desired floor. The blond had been the phone, gone to lunches, gone to dinners, doing everything to make sure his baby got the part. He patted his right jacket pocket, feeling the small box in its cloth hiding place. He bit the tip of his tongue and smiled. He folded his arms across his chest as he went over what he was going to say to JoMo. His phone vibrated in his pants' pocket and he pulled it out. He looked at the number and chuckled to himself.

"Hey, Cena...how's it hanging?" Mike answered.

"Shove it, Mizanin."

"Oh, testy."

"You stole my part."

"Hey, what can I say? Just getting the best for my baby."

The other man chuckled. "He better love you for it cause next time..."

"Next time. Next time? Really, Cena? Really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Keep on dreaming, man."

There was a pause.

"You still there?"

"How did an idiot like him get a great guy like you?"

Mike laughed. "He's not an idiot."

"Whatever you say, Mike, whatever you say. Hey, listen, why don't you and me go to dinner tomorrow?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?"

"Just a dinner between two long time friends."

Mike thought a moment. "Yeah, sure...why not? Talk to ya later."

With that, he hung up the phone. He stepped out onto the floor and walked briskly to the room that his lover and he shared for their stay. He stood in front of the door, slid is key card in, and stepped in. He stood in the common room looking over missed text the messages on his phone: one from his brother, two from his dad, and one from his other dad. The blond snapped his head up when he heard a noise coming for the bedroom.

"Oh God!" was muffled but Mike heard it clearly.

He looked to the door as he bit into his thumb nail. He looked to the exit and back to the bedroom door.

"Right there," came to his ears.

Mike moved closer to the door, slipping his phone back into his pocket. He placed both his hands on the door-frame for support.

"You're...so fucking...hot."

"I know, baby, I know."

Hot tears began to sting Mike's eyes as he placed his forehead against the wooden barrier.

"OH! Oh God!"

"That's right...I'm your God."

Mike brought his shaking hand to the doorknob and slowly twisted. Without making a sound, he pushed the door open and stuck his head in. His icy blues took in the trail of clothes leading to the bed. His boyfriend's back was to him topping another who was on their knees. Mike closed the door again and quickly left. He did not know that the door did not catch and swung open to a crack. All he was thinking was that he had to leave, that he had to find another place to be.

Mike waited for the elevators. Time ticked by. He took out his phone and slowly looked over his contact list. "Cena?"

"What up, bro?"

"Where are you?"

"Clubbing."

"Oh. Okay."

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing...forget that I called." Mike hung up his phone as he stepped into the elevator. He should have gotten angry, he should be crying hysterically now. Truth be told, he had always felt that JoMo was creeping around, keeping everything on the down low. He did not know for sure and kept his suspicions to himself. The evidence was right there...in the bed that they shared temporarily and in his mind now.

His phone vibrated in his hand. "Yeah?"

"Bro, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, Cena."

"Don't lie to me, Mikey."

Mike did not say a word.

"Mikey?"

"I just," Mike sighed.

"Hey, meet me at my hotel...the Sheridan."

"I know your hotel and room number."

"Okay. I'm on my way there now."

"You don't have to—"

"Shut up and just get there."

Mike stared at his phone and hung up. He stayed in the corner of the elevator until it got to the first floor. He slowly made his way out and went to the parking deck to find his car. He slid into the driver side of the navigator and laid his head down on the steering wheel. His shoulders started to jerk and the tears fell.

"Son of a bitch!" He started to pound his fists on the dashboard. "I fucking hate you. Goddamn bastard! I gave you fucking everything."

Mike rocked himself as he took a couple of deep breathes. He quickly wiped his eyes and face. He started the vehicle and drove to the Sheridan which just a ten minute drive. His mind was blank throughout the car ride. He vaguely remembered parking his car and going up to John's room. He vaguely remembered shaking an elderly couples' hands and posing for a picture. He stood in front of the door and raised his hand to knock but dropped it. Mike shook his head and turned to leave.

"Where do you think you're going?" John asked when he opened the door. "Get your skinny ass in here."

"I'm not skinny," Mike protested.

"I don't give a shit. Get in here."

Mike nodded and stepped pass his friend, getting a whiff of alcohol. He took a seat and folded his arms.

"What's wrong?" John probed while he looked through the mini fridge.

Mike did not say a word.

"If you don't talk to me, I swear I'll hold you down and shave off all your hair including your eyebrows." John placed a beer bottle on the coffee table in front of Mike, who still did not say a word.

John took a swig from his beer while staring at his friend. He nodded, placed the beer down, and got up. He went to the bathroom and rummaged through his shaving kit. He smiled evilly as he got his electronic clippers. The older man went back to Mike and stood behind him. He grabbed a handful of hair and yanked his friend's head back.

"Oh God!" Mike yelped.

"Talk or your pretty locks go," John commanded.

Mike stared up at him with tears forming in his eyes.

John pulled away. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I was just joking."

Mike hunched forward and buried his face into his hands. John threw the clippers onto the bed and went to his friend. He gathered the young man into his arms and rubbed his back.

"What ever it is, Mikey, it'll be okay," John soothed.

The friends stayed like that for awhile before Mike calmed down.

"It's okay," John said. "It'll be okay."

Mike shook his head.

John cupped Mike's face in his hands. "Are you going to tell me?"

"It's my John-John."

John's face became somber. "Is he...okay? Is he alive? What hospital is he at? What did the police say? Why are you here?"

"Cena!" Mike stared at his friend.

"What?" John asked. "Is he okay?"

"He's fine...just fucking fine."

"Oh." John let his friend's face go and went back to his seat. "Here you got me all worried over nothing."

"He's cheating on me," Mike whispered.

"I thought he was in a hospital dying. Or worse, dead. I thought he was fucking dead, Mike. The better half of my best friend, dead because of either a gun shot wound or a hit and run or overdosed on something."

"He's cheating on me."

"But no, he's fine...cheating...on you." John sat there and stared off into space. "What?"

"He's cheating on me."

John moved his eyes to meet the ice blues of his friend's.

Mike nodded.

John stared off into space once more. After awhile, he stood up and smoothed out the front of his shirt.

"What are you doing?"

John looked down at his friend and smiled. He kissed the top of his head. "I'm going to go kill him." He started to walk to the door.

Mike latched on to his waist. "John."

"Let me go."

"No."

"Mikey, let me go."

"Cena."

"Let me go kick his ass."

"Please...Johnny"

John huffed and looked down at his friend. "Why do you ruin my fun?"

"I don't want you to go to jail."

John chuckled. "Please, I'm John Cena."

"And he's John Morrison, noted superstar, accomplished musician, most sought after model..."

"All of those thanks to you."

Mike squeezed his friend tighter.

John rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Mike let John go and wiped his eyes.

John sat back down. "You look like shit."

"Shut up."

John took a swig from his beer. He was deep in thought. Sure, he heard the rumors of JoMo's infidelity. He just shook it off though believing that they were just rumors. Mike was a great guy. He pitched JoMo like a narcotic to anyone who would listen and listen they did. Mike went to lunches and dinners, had meetings, negotiated contracts, set up tour dates, arranged filming dates, scheduled photo shoots...Mike did it all. He was a one man band in the industry pushing his baby forward into the limelight while he stood in the shadows.

Hell, John wanted to be Mike's boyfriend. He cut a sideways glance to his friend. His boyish looks, his Cheshire smile, the twinkle in his ice blues...they caused his heart to flutter.

"How...how did you find out?" John asked.

"I got back to the hotel, I heard noises, and I took a look," Mike explained. "He was fucking someone."

John stared at him. "Funny, I always thought he was a bottom."

"He's like me."

"Oh...a switch. Makes sense."

Mike fiddled with the hem of his jacket as he stared at the beer in front of him. He was never a beer drinker. He liked the finer things in life like wine, champagne, caviar, designer clothes, etc. Mike reached for the cold drink and took a swig.

"Really, Cena? Really?" Mike coughed.

"What?" the older man asked.

"This tastes like piss." Mike gagged as he placed the beer down.

"Stop being gay, dude."

"Me? What about you, Thug-a-licious?"

"What about me?"

"I'll stop being gay when you stop being gay."

"I'm bi, bro."

"Whatever. Keep saying that to make yourself feel better."

John chuckled. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "What are you going to do?"

"What?"

"What are you going to do?"

Mike shook his head. "I don't want to go back there."

"You can stay here."

"And get raped by you? Tempting but no."

John threw his head back as he laughed. "I'm being serious."

"I know." Mike rubbed his eyes. "I'm so fucking tired right now."

"Come on. Let's go to bed."

Mike nodded and took off his clothes.

"You still sleep in a shirt and underwear?" John asked while putting away the clippers.

"Yup."

John went to his suitcase and pulled out a T-shirt. He threw it at Mike, who pulled it over his head. John undressed and put on some pajama bottoms. Both men laid down in the same bed staring up at the ceiling.

"Feels like old times, huh?" John asked.

"Yup," Mike replied.

"Man, I miss college. Remember when we first met?"

"Like it was yesterday."

"Man, freshman seminar. I couldn't believe that they would let a fifteen-year-old in college, but there you were. You were so little."

Mike chuckled and sighed. "And everyone was so...mature looking."

"Those were some good times."

"They were."

John turned his head to look at the younger man. "I have a question for you."

"Shoot."

"Why didn't we ever get together?"

"Are you seriously asking me that? After I found out my boyfriend's cheating on me?"

"I know, my timing's kind of shitty but yeah."

Mike turned to meet his gaze. "Because you became my best friend and big brother. It would have been just too fucking creepy."

John smiled broadly showing off his dimples. "Seriously, your boyfriend's an idiot."

"I know...I know."

…

John Morrison stared down at his young lover. He traced the bridge of the young man's nose, brushing his thumb over the young man's lips, stroking his cheek.

"Are you trying to wake me up?" the young man asked.

"Not really, but we'll go for that," JoMo replied. "Mike will be back any moment."

The young man let out a sigh.

"Come on, Cody. Don't be like this."

Cody sat up nodding. "Do you love him?"

"Mike?"

"Yeah."

"I guess. I mean, why would I still be with him after all these years?"

"Then why cheat on him?"

JoMo shrugged his shoulders. "He just doesn't fulfill my carnal needs any more. Besides, he's fucking Cena."

"Really?"

"Cena is a good looking man."

Cody smacked JoMo's chest.

"Just stating the obvious."

"Don't do it my presence." The young man slipped out of bed and began to dress. He looked up at the door and cocked his head to the side. "Did you leave the door open?"

"No, why?"

"It's open."

"It probably didn't catch."

Cody nodded and finished up. He kissed JoMo and said, "Call me when...Mother's away."

"Don't I always."

Cody kissed him again harder, tongue twirling around in JoMo's month, trying to savor his taste before he had to depart for the time being. "I'll talk with you later."

JoMo nodded and laid down. He looked at his watch and saw that it was only eleven twenty-seven.

"Huh?" he breathed. "The meeting must be running late."

He stretched and smiled after his backbone cracked. Soon, sleep claimed him.