Title: Hot 'N Cold

Rated: M (Mature)

Genre(s): Romance/Drama

Pair(s): Mike/John Morrison, Scott/Phil

Summary: Ever since John retired, there's been a strain on his relationship with Mike. But now that The Miz has landed a movie role, John feels like there's no room left in Mike's life for him…

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone, besides the child.

Warning: Slash, Mpreg, Extreme Cursing, etc.

Part: 1/2

O~O~O~O

It had been two months since Mike had been back home and the strain that it had put on him could be seen clearly on his face. He was extremely tired and all he wanted to do was climb in bed with his husband, but he knew that John would still be furious with him over the little lover's tiff that they had had the other day. Mike would admit that he hadn't been home much lately, but he was on the road for work and John should be able to understand that. But he had really done it when he had sworn he would be home for Mae's birthday, only to turn around and cancel at the last minute. There wasn't much that he could do, but he knew that John was ticked.

It was extremely late, but Mike was determined to make it home to his husband and daughter tonight. He drove down the abandoned Cleveland streets, a certain anxiousness in his chest. He had promised to call every day before Mae went to bed, but even that had dwindled down at the end of the shoot. But he was home now, or at least he would be in a few minutes. And maybe, if he was lucky, John wouldn't throw a bitch-fit and make him sleep on the couch. Really, he was a bit of an idealist at heart. He knew that John wouldn't welcome him home with open arms. Hell, he'd be lucky if John was even there to welcome him home at all…

Mike had to look at the situation realistically. Most likely, John would have bummed a ride over to Scott and Phil's house. And, on the off chance that he was still in the house, he would already be in bed at this hour. Mike sighed. He knew that they had a lot to talk about and he didn't want to wait, but he knew that John was less receptive when he was woken from his 'beauty rest'. Mike pulled into his driveway a moment later and was almost hesitant to get out of the car, but he knew that he had to. He couldn't delay this forever. The Awesome One killed the engine and climbed out of the car, before he took out his keys and walked up to the front door.

He unlocked it and walked inside. "I'm home!" He called out but didn't receive an answer.

The Awesome One frowned, before he tossed his suitcases down beside the door and kicked off his sneakers. He walked over to the staircase and walked up to the second level of the house. Quickly, he was able to locate the room labeled 'Laura Mae'. Silently, he pushed on the door and slipped inside. A rotating lamp stood on the little table beside Mae's designer crib (did he really expect any less from John?) to provide a small sliver of light in the otherwise darkened room. Mike walked over to her crib and leaned over the side. The brown-haired two-year-old rested on her back, a tiny pink leopard-print blanket balled in her little fist.

"Mae-Mae…" Mike mumbled softly as he reached down and brushed her chocolate curls away from her flushed little face. "Daddy's home, sweetheart. Are you still awake?"

Mae blinked slowly, her wide blue doe-eyes fixing on Mike. "Dada home?"

Mike smiled down at her. She could have been an exact replica of John had it not been for her blue eyes. "Yes, sweetheart. I'm home."

"Mae missed Dada." Mae said sweetly. "Dada missed Mae too?"

Mike nodded. "I missed Mae-Mae too."

"Good." Mae nodded with a self-satisfied smile on her little face. "Mama mad at you."

"He is, huh?" Mike watched as Mae nodded. Mike stroked her cheek one more time, before he tucked her back underneath her blanket. "Well, I'll just have to fix that, huh? Now - back to sleep before Mama finds out I woke you."

"Okay, Dada. I love you." Mae said before she kissed Mike's cheek.

"I love you too, sweetheart." Mike said.

Mike walked out of the room and went down the hall to the bedroom that he shared with his husband. He wanted into the bedroom as silently as he could, but over the two months he had forgotten about that squeaky floorboard behind the door and the obnoxious squeak that followed woke his husband. John sat up with a start and, all of a sudden, John reached for the nearest object and threw it at Mike. It turned out to be a nineteen inch tall lamp made almost entirely out of sky-blue colored porcelain. It hit the wall inches above Mike's head and shattered into thousands of tiny shards. A shiver chased down Mike's spine. Yeah, John was pissed.

His blood went cold when he heard John slide out of bed. Knowing John's shopaholic tendencies, added into his natural diva- like tendencies, Mike could only wonder what John would pull out of the woodwork next. Frantically, he searched for the light switch on the far wall. Finally, he found it. A second later, the industrial-strength metal bat crashed into the wall a few centimeters to the left of his body. He still remembered when he had bought John that bat and had told him to only use it if it was absolutely necessary. Well, it would seem that an unknown man breaking into their bedroom was that aforementioned situation…

"John? John, it's me! Calm down!" Mike watched as realization came over John's face. A brief flash of relief contorted his features before it was replaced by frustration.

"What the hell, Mike? Do you want to kill me? I think you just gave me my first gray hair!" John spat out angrily. He stormed back to the bed and threw himself down in a show of total petulance.

"I missed you too." Mike said sarcastically.

John rolled his chocolate eyes. "Oh, yeah. You missed me a whole lot. I can count the number of calls and texts that you sent over the last two months on my hands, Mike. Yeah, I know how much you care."

"Johnny, you have to understand that I was busy." Mike tried to reason with him, but John wouldn't have any of it. He was furious and frustrated and it showed on his handsome face. "I thought about you and Mae all of the time."

"How many hot women were there, Mike?" John hissed viciously. He knew that was a low blow and he felt a sharp stab of satisfaction as he watched Mike's face crumble. "Tell me, did they all fall at your feet like little bitches?"

Mike had only ever cheated on John once. It had been a total accident, really. He had been drunk, no, totally hammered. He hadn't been in control of his mind or his body. Maryse had used him and John had found them in bed together. It had taken several months of counseling and just talking it through for John to even consider re-entering a relationship with The Awesome One and Mike knew that it was a little outlandish to think that he would ever forget such a horrible experience. However, Mike was tired of constantly having to prove to John that he was faithful to him and that he wanted to be faithful to him. John had always been beautifully insecure.

"You can't even answer me, can you?" John shook his head with obvious distaste for the entire situation. "Hell, you don't even need to answer me. From the look on your face, I can draw my own conclusions."

Mike shook out of his trance to watch as John scrubbed at his reddened, tear-filled eyes. "Johnny, don't cry. You know that I can't stand to see you cry."

Morrison rolled onto his side so that his back was to him and refused to look at his husband even as he walked around to John's side of the bed. "I hate this."

"What?" Mike asked. His eyes were also red and swollen from the blatant show of distrust from John.

"All we ever do anymore is fight, Mike. You're never around and when you are, you don't have any time for me or Mae. I don't want to spend what little time we have together fighting, but…" John trailed off.

"I don't want to fight with you either, babe." Mike said honestly.

John shook his head. "Am I just a bed warmer for you, Mike?"

Mike's eyes widened considerably. He couldn't believe that John would ever think so low of himself. "What?"

"You heard my question, Mike. Don't act like you didn't." Morrison said in a defeated tone. "I hate this and I can't do it anymore, Mike. You've left me with no other choice."

Mike shook his head, unable to believe what John had just said. "What do you mean; you don't have any other choice? John – what's on your mind? Can't we talk about this?"

John slid off of the bed and started to pack his stuff as fast as he could. He took some shirts and some jeans and tossed them in, as well as his favorite pair of shoes. Once that was closed and locked, he took it downstairs and set it by the door, where Mike's stuff was still strewn haphazardly. And then he went back upstairs and started to pack all of Mae's stuff into a little, pink and white polka-dot suitcase. Mike followed him and watched him from a distance, almost afraid to comment. He still wanted to believe that all of this was surreal, all one horrible dream. As soon as he opened his eyes, all of it would disappear.

"John, you don't have to do this." Mike tried to plead with him, but it was to no avail. John was dead-set on what was, in his mind, the best course of action for himself and for Mae.

"Yes, I do." John said distractedly as he carefully lifted the toddler from her crib.

Mike shook his head. "It was all over some stupid little fight, John! We can't lose what we have over an argument that meant nothing!" As soon as the words left his mouth, Mike knew that he had made a mistake.

"Oh, so now my feelings are a joke to you? I'm glad that I know that for future reference." John hissed before he turned around and started down the stairs, Mae in his arms.

"John – please, don't do this. Please don't leave me!" Mike cried as tears slowly leaked out of his eyes.

John paused for only a moment, before he opened the door and said, "Goodbye, Mike."

It was as if, in that one moment, his entire world had caved in around him. John and Mae were the reasons that he continued to wrestle, even if he was stuck in mid-card hell. John and Mae were the reasons that he strived for that shot at the WWE title day in and day out, only to come no closer and resolve to work that much harder. They were his reason, and now, all of that work had finally paid off – he finally had that movie role and they had left him. It wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. But Mike had a feeling that annoying life with his repetitive comments of 'really, really' wouldn't bring John and Mae back through that door. In fact, he was honestly afraid that nothing would…

OOOO

A/N: CLIFFHANGER! So, this is my first official story dedicated fully to Miz/JoMo, so I would really like to know how I did. How can I improve? Let me know, but remember to always be respectful! Please Review!