Title: Better That We Break

Pairing: Kevin "Alex Riley" Kiley/ Michael "The Miz" Mizanin

Summary: "I never knew perfection 'til I heard you speak, and now it kills me just to hear you say the simple things." Alex is drafted to Smackdown. It could be the end of the world.

Disclaimer: I don't own shit!

Warnings: Much sadness?

Author's Note: So I haven't written this style in fucking years, but I think it turned out beautiful. So much so, in fact, that the rest of the original idea that came with this didn't get written with it because I feel like it would taint the importance and the emotion of this, right here. So, while there is potentially more to this, it ain't on here. It may come later, it may not. Hopefully, it will, even if it's as a separate piece entirely. Either way, enjoy. =)

Mike feels his heart drop like his phone as the cell falls from his hand. He vaguely registers it clattering to the floor, uncaring as to whether it not it breaks. It's not as if he gives a shit about any of the other draft picks, anyway. He turns to his companion slowly, his eyes wide with shock, lined with tears. Alex smiles back at him widely.

"That shocking? Who was it? Me?" the younger jokes.

Mike can't even begin to formulate a response. He tries a few times, opening and closing his mouth awkwardly. When Alex's face falls, worry passing over his features, the older nearly breaks down.

"What? But-but, they can't, I can't, Mike!" Alex exclaims desperately, moving closer to his lover on the couch, reaching out for him. He latches onto Mike's shirt, clinging to him like a life preserver in troubled waters. "We have to do something!"

Mike sees the storm brewing in the younger's eyes and it makes him ache. He takes Alex's face in his hands, wiping away the few tears that have managed to start falling with his thumbs. Alex trembles in his grasp, and he squeezes his eyes shut tight, turning completely away from the younger.

"Alex, baby, I don't, I just- fuck!" the champ cries, lashing out and punching the coffee table in front of them. They both jump, the room falling suddenly silent. Mike can't meet Alex's gaze as he finally gathers the strength to finish speaking. "I don't think there's anything we can do."

It takes but a moment for the words to fully settle in Alex's brain, but when they do, he's fumbling to speak again, grabbing the older again. He digs his fingers into Mike's arms as if he's trying to keep his lover from floating away. To some extent, he feels he is.

"No, no, don't say that, Mike! There's got to be something! We just, we can't-can't give up!" Alex is barely holding himself together, absolutely terrified for what's to come.

"Who the hell are you supposed to be? Cena?" he tries to mock his lover, but even that comes out desperate and watery.

"I'm serious right now-" Alex tries to argue.

"Goddammit, Kevin, I am too!" Mike snaps, his fist slamming into the table once more. The younger snaps to attention at the use of his real name, for it happens so rarely, his hands falling away from Mike slowly. "It happens every single fucking year! They, they use this fucking draft to rip me into pieces! Every time I find someone who gives half a shit about me, they take them away!"

The Champ swipes his hands over his face in frustation, tugs at his hair. He feels as if he's watching everything that means so very much to him, the pieces of his life, fall away from one another, disconnect slowly, and crumble before his eyes once again. He presses his palms to his eyes as tightly as he can, willing the tears that are attempting to slip out back in, as much as he knows it won't work. When he speaks again, it's broken, tear-filled, and it kills him even as his voice cracks.

"If there was a way to fix it, if there was something I could do to stop it," he says quietly, "don't you think I would have figured it out by now?"

Alex curses, the pain taking over him worse than any bump he's had to take in the ring. He scrambles for some grip on reality, balling Mike's shirt up into his fists even as he closes his eyes against the oncoming waves. He swallows the sobs that are waiting to spill forth, begs Mike silently to just look at him. Somehow, the older hears his pleas, turning to him with the most forlorn expression he's ever seen. He's struck with nausea as he meets his lover's gaze. He thinks he hears Mike whimper, like it's all too much for him, but there's no possible way because the Champ does not whimper. Then Mike's speaking once more, tearing Alex brutally from his own head.

"Face it. It's over, Kevin. It's done." Mike mutters, and Alex can't stand it any longer.

"No! No, stop calling me that, stop talking like that! It's, it's not, it can't be," the younger screams, wet trails finally paving their way across his face. "I won't let it be."

Alex folds in on himself a bit now, as if he's trying to physically shield his heart from the onslaught of pain that has come forth. Mike watches his shoulders pitch forward a few times, hears his breathing hitch. The Champ reaches out, rests a hand on the back of Alex's neck lightly. He can feel the body beneath it wracking with sobs and hates himself for continuing to speak.

"We may not have any other choice. If it's going to end one way or another anyway, I'd rather it be on our terms." he says, speaking as if it's already been written among the stars.

The younger's head snaps up, panicked eyes locking onto broken blues.

"Mike...Mike, no, please no. It doesn't have to be over, it doesn't have to end like this! I'm, I, I'm not like him, and you fucking know it, Mike! I know you do!" Alex cries, his voice raw. "Please Mike, please don't be like this..."

Mike doesn't even realize his eyes are squeezed shut until Alex grabs his hands. He turns to look at his lover. Alex looks completely demolished, like his entire life has been shattered. Mike wonders if he looks the same way. He certainly feels it. Who would have thought all it would take is a simple text message, from Twitter, to destroy everything in two men's lives? Alex hands tremble in his own. Angry, wet tracks cover the younger's face. As much as Mike knows what needs to be done right now, he can't do it. He can't let himself push Alex away, can't throw away a sure thing. He can't turn away from the best thing that's ever happened to him without even taking a chance.

What Mike should do, he knows, is leave Alex right here and now, silence the crazy voices in his head that are trying to get him to do something stupid, drastic, something he knows will never work, not with the distace. Instead, he suprises even himself, taking Alex's tear-stained cheeks in his palms and placing the lightest, most loving of kisses on the younger's lips. He can taste the overwhelming amount of salt from the boy's tears, and it makes him kiss Alex that much deeper, pulling the younger in like he needs him to fucking breathe. At this point, he thinks he does.

"I guess we'll have to wait it out, see where it goes." he mumbles against Alex's lips as he pulls back.

The smile that blooms across Alex's features almost makes Mike think he's doing the right thing, making the right choice. Unfortunately, however, his gut won't stop trying to tell him otherwise. He tries to push his doubt to the back of his mind as he pushes Alex down onto the couch, straddling the younger and peeling his shirt off. They make love up to the very last possible minute before Alex has to gather his things and board to bus to the Smackdown taping. Despite Alex's demands to make him feel it, so he can fucking remember, Mike takes things as slow as possible, touching him like he's memorizing every inch, breathing in his scent like he can't get enough, kissing him like it's the last time.

The mere thought that this could be any semblence of the last time he and Mike are ever this close, Mike is ever overaroundinside him, brings the tears forth once more, sends them sliding down the sides of his face. He's never felt like such a girl before, crying in the middle of sex. But then, drops are landing on his face, Mike's tears mixing with his own, and he can't even focus on himself. He looks deep into his lover's baby blues, pulling the older down and kissing him as deeply as he can, putting ever bit of feeling he can muster into it.

"Kevin..." Mike gasps out when they part, his hands digging into the younger's hips.

Alex shakes his head. They're so close, Mike's sweat-soaked hair brushes his forehead. It makes his breath catch for a moment.

"No. Not since you..." Alex whispers, trailing off a bit. Mike angles just slightly differently, brushes against the younger's spot. He wants to make Alex speak. When the boy does, he practically breathes it. "Mike...I'm Alex. I'm yours."

A new fire ignites in Mike's eyes, courses through his veins. His heart burns for the younger. He's never had anyone love him like this, with this much intensity, this unconditionally. He's never had anyone look at him like he's their saving grace, the only thing keeping them afloat, like he's everything they've been wishing for...like he's perfect. Part of it sends a chill up his spine. He's not entirely sure how to handle it. He buries this thought with the rest from today, pushing in harder, faster, as he drags his nails down the younger's sides lightly.

"Alex!" he growls, leaning right down by his lover's ear as he does. He feels Alex shiver, his hands spreading out across Mike's back and to pull the older closer.

They come undone almost simultaneously, holding each other tightly as they ride out the waves, tear filled declarations of love painted with mantras of one another's names on their lips. They exchange soft kisses in the afterglow, waiting as long as they possibly can to separate. Mike doesn't stray far from arm's reach from Alex the entire time the younger gathers his things, grabbing the younger and kissing him whenever he feels the urge. He knows he won't have the opportunity much longer. They spend a few long moments kissing goodbye against the wall by the door, trading quiet promises to call and text and make plans to stay with one another during breaks, and trying not to cry once again, before Mike finally lets out a soft sigh and takes a step back.

Mike walks Alex all the way to the bus, even helping him carry some of his bags. They pointedly ignore everyone's piteous stares as they approach, handing Alex's things to the driver. The younger turns back to his lover, shuffles from one foot to the other a few times. He ducks his head down, mumbling just loud enough for Mike to hear.

"I, uh. I guess I'll see you later."

"Yea, for sure. You can't exactly get away from me." Mike tries to joke, but even that comes out with a sad ring to it.

They're quiet for a few moments before suddenly, Mike finds himself with an armful of boyfriend, Alex's own arms wrapping tightly around him. Mike reflexively encircles the boy in his grasp, closing his eyes and breathing him in once more. He feels Alex's breath on his ear when the younger speaks.

"I'll think of you all the time. And it won't be that long til we see each other again. You'll see. We can make this work. I promise. I'm not like him." Alex reiterates from earlier.

Mike nods slowly against him, hugging him that much tighter.

"I love you, Michael. I'll miss you, so much." he whispers, his lips brushing Mike's ear. Mike barely contains his shiver.

"I love you, too." Mike manages in response. He pulls back, meets Alex's eyes with a soft smile. "I'll call you when I can, okay?"

It's Alex's turn to nod now, albeit reluctantly.

"I'll see you later, Alex." the Champ says, promise in his voice.

"Alright." Alex agrees before turning and getting on the bus with a wave.

Mike can't watch the bus drive away. It'll hurt too much. Instead, he turns and walks back into the hotel, head down. It's easier this way.

(That night, despite knowing in advance, it comes as a shock to Alex when Mike's not waiting for him back at the hotel room already. He tosses and turns for hours, trying every trick imaginable to fall asleep, but it's all in vain. In the end, he packs his things and heads to the airport, trading in his ticket for an earlier flight home. If he's going to be awake and lonely, he figures, he'd much rather do it at home. He finally falls into a fitful sleep on the plane, his dreams plagued with visions of Michael, and his sad blue eyes.)