Hah, Randy is such a tease
“You ready to see my beautiful creation?” Randy asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice.
“Not really, but I’d bet anything you’re gonna show me anyway.”
“And you, my good man, would be correct.” Randy’s hands, which had been behind his back, were brought around front where his shirt was revealed. “I told you I would get glitter glue.”
“You are a fucking bastard,” John said as he looked the hot pink t-shirt up and down. In blue glitter ‘easier than a 2nd grade math quiz’ was written across the middle with silver arrows pointing towards the lettering. “You could have at least picked out a white shirt.”
“Are you kidding? Dude, there’s no way I’d let you get off that easy. Hell no, not after what you put me through in the locker room in front of fuckin’ everyone.”
“Jesus, that was, like, almost four years ago. You’re still holding that against me? Even though I proposed to you?”
“You’re not getting out of this one with that proposal crap. Nope. Hey, I believe this is your first lost bet while engaged.”
“Christ,” John said, rolling his eyes, “I thought you were done with that.”
“Apparently not. So, are you ready to put this baby on?”
“No.”
“Well, if you don’t, you’re so not topping tonight. Or any other night for the next couple months, for that matter.”
“What if I told you I like it better on the bottom, anyway?”
“Then I’d call you a liar.”
“Ok, so I do admit, I like topping, but bottoming isn’t so bad. No, not bad at all… Fine, give me the damn shirt.”
Randy grinned as John pulled the shirt over his head. “Would you like to hold my hand walking down the street?”
John shot him a look that could have killed. “Fuck off.”
“It’s not my damn fault you can’t keep quiet during sex.”
“Now is not the time to be asking to take this public. You’re a sick bastard. First you get off seeing me in a dress-”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that,” Randy cut him off, “And you loved seeing me in that one. Fucking loved it. Now let’s go, we’ve got a whole city to walk around.”
Randy opened the door to their hotel room. John gritted his teeth and walked out into the hall.
The first stares John got were in the elevator ride down to the lobby. A middle aged couple stepped in on the 4th floor. The woman read the shirt and tried to suppress a giggle, and the man just snorted. John hid his face in his hands while Randy pet John on the back.
“You’re really getting pleasure from this, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, and we haven’t even left the hotel yet! Ouch!” Randy exclaimed when John punched his arm.
“That didn’t hurt.”
“No, it didn’t. I guess it’s just a normal reaction. You always say it when I hit you.”
“I do not,” John protested.
“Yeah, actually, you do. I’ve heard you tell your mother, on numerous occasions, that I just hit you when you’re on the phone.” They exited the lobby and were now on the streets of Denver. “Ever wonder how your mom knows something happened? You say ‘ow.’”
“Whatever…” John could feel the stares of the people they passed, could hear the giggles, could see the pointing. Finally, he just said, “Fuck it,” and uncrossed his arms, broadcasting the shirt’s message to the world.
“Atta boy,” Randy said, patting John on the back again. He let his arm go around John’s shoulder, and John slipped his left arm around Randy’s back. “Say it loud, say it proud.”
“What’s that? I’m here, and I’m queer? Or, how about I love fucking Randy Orton up-”
Randy clamped his hand over John’s mouth, then told him, “Eh, not exactly.”
“Oh, what? You want everyone to think I’m fucking easy, but you don’t want people to know you loooooove taking it up the ass?”
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going public with this until after the marriage.”
“Oh, hell, everyone knows, anyway. Look at us; we’ve got our arms around each other, walking the streets of Denver. Not terribly subtle, if you ask me. And now you’re holding my hand. The one with the rings on it. If that doesn’t scream ‘I’m fucking John Cena,’ I don’t know what does.”
“You do have a point.” Randy then pulled on John’s shoulder, which spun him right into Randy’s chest. The two stood there, ignoring the obvious stares, and then Randy bent over and planted a kiss on John’s mouth. John wrapped his other arm around Randy, kissing him in the middle of a busy street in downtown Denver. Randy finally pulled back and smiled down at John, “But, I think that screams it even more.”
John couldn’t stop his smile, his dimples evident, “Way to give everyone a free show. We could have charged for that.”
“Nah, generosity goes a long way.”
“I’m sure people will want more, though.”
“Well, they’ll just have to pay to see that. Of course, the way we grope each other in the ring is good enough for most,” Randy said. “I mean, just look at that clip from Wrestlemania, you were fondling my ass in front of half the fucking world.”
John smirked at that, “Yeah.”
“So, you ready to head back to the hotel?”
“Oh, yes,” John replied with a wink.
The two men turned around and started the walk back to the hotel, walking shoulder to shoulder. A couple people stopped them and asked for pictures and autographs, some brave young girls even said they should make out in public more often.
Soon the two were back in the room. John sat down on the bed and said to Randy, “So, we still have a couple hours before we have to be at the arena. What ever shall we do until then?”
“I was thinking of maybe doing some reading. I haven’t read Gone With the Wind yet, I thought I could get a start on that,” Randy said, trying his hardest to keep a straight face.
“You’re an ass.”
“Oh, but it’s such a nice ass,” Randy countered.
“I’ll give you that.” John stood up and pinned Randy against the wall, running his hands over Randy’s ass. “Yeah, it’s real nice.”
Randy flipped their positions, now John was the one pressed against the wall, “Now, your ass, well, that’s just a work of art. Perfectly fuckable, if you ask me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” Randy unbuckled John’s belt and had his pants and boxers around his ankles in a flash. Randy rooted through one of John’s bags, conveniently placed right next to them, and pulled out the self heating lube.
“You gonna fuck me into the next room?” John asked.
“Maybe,” Randy replied, flipping John around so his back was to his front. John stuck his ass further out, giving Randy better access to it. “Yeah, that’s right,” Randy said, slicking up his fingers and sticking one inside. “You love waving your cute little ass around for me, don’t you?”
John nodded, “Yes, yes I do.”
“Well, I love it when you do.”
“I know.” John felt the second finger go in. He arched his back when Randy pressed his fingers against his prostate, which caused his ass to stick out even further.
“Now your ass is just begging to be spanked,” Randy said, running his free hand over John’s ass cheek.
“Then do it.”
Randy pulled back and let his hand land on John’s ass. He did it a second time, and John kept arching his back from the mixture of pain and pleasure coming from it. Then, he stopped. He pulled his fingers out and sat down on the bed. He then switched on the TV and reclined against the pillows.
“What the FUCK, dude?” John shouted.
“We’ll save that for when we get back. Otherwise you’ll be bitching about how your ass was killing you all through your match.”
“You… You are a fucking asshole.”
“And you love me for it,” Randy said with a smirk, finally settling on the Discovery Channel.
“Not really, but I’d bet anything you’re gonna show me anyway.”
“And you, my good man, would be correct.” Randy’s hands, which had been behind his back, were brought around front where his shirt was revealed. “I told you I would get glitter glue.”
“You are a fucking bastard,” John said as he looked the hot pink t-shirt up and down. In blue glitter ‘easier than a 2nd grade math quiz’ was written across the middle with silver arrows pointing towards the lettering. “You could have at least picked out a white shirt.”
“Are you kidding? Dude, there’s no way I’d let you get off that easy. Hell no, not after what you put me through in the locker room in front of fuckin’ everyone.”
“Jesus, that was, like, almost four years ago. You’re still holding that against me? Even though I proposed to you?”
“You’re not getting out of this one with that proposal crap. Nope. Hey, I believe this is your first lost bet while engaged.”
“Christ,” John said, rolling his eyes, “I thought you were done with that.”
“Apparently not. So, are you ready to put this baby on?”
“No.”
“Well, if you don’t, you’re so not topping tonight. Or any other night for the next couple months, for that matter.”
“What if I told you I like it better on the bottom, anyway?”
“Then I’d call you a liar.”
“Ok, so I do admit, I like topping, but bottoming isn’t so bad. No, not bad at all… Fine, give me the damn shirt.”
Randy grinned as John pulled the shirt over his head. “Would you like to hold my hand walking down the street?”
John shot him a look that could have killed. “Fuck off.”
“It’s not my damn fault you can’t keep quiet during sex.”
“Now is not the time to be asking to take this public. You’re a sick bastard. First you get off seeing me in a dress-”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy that,” Randy cut him off, “And you loved seeing me in that one. Fucking loved it. Now let’s go, we’ve got a whole city to walk around.”
Randy opened the door to their hotel room. John gritted his teeth and walked out into the hall.
The first stares John got were in the elevator ride down to the lobby. A middle aged couple stepped in on the 4th floor. The woman read the shirt and tried to suppress a giggle, and the man just snorted. John hid his face in his hands while Randy pet John on the back.
“You’re really getting pleasure from this, aren’t you?”
“Yeah, and we haven’t even left the hotel yet! Ouch!” Randy exclaimed when John punched his arm.
“That didn’t hurt.”
“No, it didn’t. I guess it’s just a normal reaction. You always say it when I hit you.”
“I do not,” John protested.
“Yeah, actually, you do. I’ve heard you tell your mother, on numerous occasions, that I just hit you when you’re on the phone.” They exited the lobby and were now on the streets of Denver. “Ever wonder how your mom knows something happened? You say ‘ow.’”
“Whatever…” John could feel the stares of the people they passed, could hear the giggles, could see the pointing. Finally, he just said, “Fuck it,” and uncrossed his arms, broadcasting the shirt’s message to the world.
“Atta boy,” Randy said, patting John on the back again. He let his arm go around John’s shoulder, and John slipped his left arm around Randy’s back. “Say it loud, say it proud.”
“What’s that? I’m here, and I’m queer? Or, how about I love fucking Randy Orton up-”
Randy clamped his hand over John’s mouth, then told him, “Eh, not exactly.”
“Oh, what? You want everyone to think I’m fucking easy, but you don’t want people to know you loooooove taking it up the ass?”
“I thought we agreed we weren’t going public with this until after the marriage.”
“Oh, hell, everyone knows, anyway. Look at us; we’ve got our arms around each other, walking the streets of Denver. Not terribly subtle, if you ask me. And now you’re holding my hand. The one with the rings on it. If that doesn’t scream ‘I’m fucking John Cena,’ I don’t know what does.”
“You do have a point.” Randy then pulled on John’s shoulder, which spun him right into Randy’s chest. The two stood there, ignoring the obvious stares, and then Randy bent over and planted a kiss on John’s mouth. John wrapped his other arm around Randy, kissing him in the middle of a busy street in downtown Denver. Randy finally pulled back and smiled down at John, “But, I think that screams it even more.”
John couldn’t stop his smile, his dimples evident, “Way to give everyone a free show. We could have charged for that.”
“Nah, generosity goes a long way.”
“I’m sure people will want more, though.”
“Well, they’ll just have to pay to see that. Of course, the way we grope each other in the ring is good enough for most,” Randy said. “I mean, just look at that clip from Wrestlemania, you were fondling my ass in front of half the fucking world.”
John smirked at that, “Yeah.”
“So, you ready to head back to the hotel?”
“Oh, yes,” John replied with a wink.
The two men turned around and started the walk back to the hotel, walking shoulder to shoulder. A couple people stopped them and asked for pictures and autographs, some brave young girls even said they should make out in public more often.
Soon the two were back in the room. John sat down on the bed and said to Randy, “So, we still have a couple hours before we have to be at the arena. What ever shall we do until then?”
“I was thinking of maybe doing some reading. I haven’t read Gone With the Wind yet, I thought I could get a start on that,” Randy said, trying his hardest to keep a straight face.
“You’re an ass.”
“Oh, but it’s such a nice ass,” Randy countered.
“I’ll give you that.” John stood up and pinned Randy against the wall, running his hands over Randy’s ass. “Yeah, it’s real nice.”
Randy flipped their positions, now John was the one pressed against the wall, “Now, your ass, well, that’s just a work of art. Perfectly fuckable, if you ask me.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Oh, yeah.” Randy unbuckled John’s belt and had his pants and boxers around his ankles in a flash. Randy rooted through one of John’s bags, conveniently placed right next to them, and pulled out the self heating lube.
“You gonna fuck me into the next room?” John asked.
“Maybe,” Randy replied, flipping John around so his back was to his front. John stuck his ass further out, giving Randy better access to it. “Yeah, that’s right,” Randy said, slicking up his fingers and sticking one inside. “You love waving your cute little ass around for me, don’t you?”
John nodded, “Yes, yes I do.”
“Well, I love it when you do.”
“I know.” John felt the second finger go in. He arched his back when Randy pressed his fingers against his prostate, which caused his ass to stick out even further.
“Now your ass is just begging to be spanked,” Randy said, running his free hand over John’s ass cheek.
“Then do it.”
Randy pulled back and let his hand land on John’s ass. He did it a second time, and John kept arching his back from the mixture of pain and pleasure coming from it. Then, he stopped. He pulled his fingers out and sat down on the bed. He then switched on the TV and reclined against the pillows.
“What the FUCK, dude?” John shouted.
“We’ll save that for when we get back. Otherwise you’ll be bitching about how your ass was killing you all through your match.”
“You… You are a fucking asshole.”
“And you love me for it,” Randy said with a smirk, finally settling on the Discovery Channel.