Come Out With Me

John frowned. "Ten minutes ago you wanted to hurt and humiliate me." He whispered, looking down at his lap. He had to admit, Mike's touch calmed and soothed his usual tense body.

"Ten minutes ago, I didn't know how broken you were," Mike said softly, tilting John's head up so he could look him in the eyes. "Ten minutes ago, I didn't know it was such a big thing."

John looked into his eyes before looking down. And before he knew it, he was breaking down. His bod shook with a broken sobs and tears raced down his cheeks. He cried for everything. Everything he was going through. All the shit that was happening to him. He buried his face in his hands and cried it all out.

Mike sat down next to John, pulling him into his arms. "Hey... It's gonna be okay... I promise," he soothed. But he knew John needed to let it all out. "Just let it all out, Johnny. It's okay," he said, rubbing his back in soothing circles.

John buried his face in Mile's chest, clinging to him as he let out all his tears. "T-The... r-reason I-I'm af-fraid of t-thunderstorm is b-because I was r-raped during one..." He cried, his body shaking from the intensity of his sobs.

Mike didn't say anything, just held John close, doing anything that would soothe John that he could. He just wanted him to stop crying.

John eventually stopped, having cried all the tears out of hs body. He wiped his face with a tissue and sniffled. His head hurt, and so did his stomach from all the alcohol he consumed. And he felt like shit overall. He was exhausted.

When John stopped crying, Mike was half asleep. He looked down at him, smiling sleepily. "You stopped crying," he slurred tiredly.

John chuckled weakly. "I got nothing left." He whispered, laying down on Mike's chest. "I got nothing left..." He repeated quietly as he drifted off to sleep.

Mike sighed as John fell asleep. Before he knew it, he was following him into the darkness of slumber. He dreamt of nothing and for that, he was thankful.

The next morning, they had an early flight. But John was so hungover and exhausted, he did not want to get up at a ll. But they had a show tonight in the next city, so he had to get up. But he just wanted to sleep for the next year.

Mike was already up and had both of their stuff all packed. He had walked through the whole hotel room, making sure he got EVERYTHING. And he had. Now all he needed was John to get up so they could go.

He walked over to the bed and sat next to John. "Johnny," he said, shaking him a bit.

John groaned. His head pounded. He felt like shit. He did not want to move let alone get up and get dressed. "Go awaaaay..." He groaned quietly. He shifted and pulled the covers over his head.

"John, come on. Ya gotta get up. Or you can be late and get yelled at, 'cause if ya aren't up and ready in half an hour, I'm leaving without ya," Mike said and stood up, walking out of the room to get some breakfast.

John huffed and slowly got up. He took a cold shower to wake him up. he put on jeans and a t-shirt along with a sweatshirt before heading down to breakfast with Mike. He ahd on his shades to hide his tiredness and hungoverness as he sat down at the table with Mike

"Good morning, beautiful," Mike smiled at the hungover brunette, taking a bite of his toast. "Good to see you up and at 'em," he teased.

John simply groaned. "I'm just gonna go die in a hole." He grumble, his voice scratchy as he left his head fall on the table and not move a centimeter after the action. He hadn't been this hungover in a while. Okay that was BS. It happened once a week actually.

Mike chuckled. "Now, that wouldn't be very fun, would it?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the man sitting across from him. "I would miss you something fierce," he added.

John 's eye glasses fell to the tip of his nose and he looked up at Mike. "Really?" He whispered. Because at this point in his life he felt like the world could care less if John Hennigan was dead or alive.

Mike nodded as he took a bite of a piece of bacon. "Very much so," he said. He would have asked, 'Is that so hard to believe?', but he knew it kind of was after what he did.

John sighed and stole a piece of bacon off his plate. He wasn't in the mood for a full meal. He was too hungover to eat a lot of food. He felt horrible. His head was pounding in his skull and his throat hurt from all the crying last night.

"Ya know, if ya ate, you would feel a hell of a lot better," Mike informed him, finishing off that piece of bacon. "I know it seems disgusting, but it helps. You shouldn't drink on an empty stomach."

John sighed. "Fine." He grumbled and ordered a meal before laying his head on the table again, his hair in his face and his glasses lopsided.

Mike chuckled and pushed the hair out of John's face, his hand brushing against John's cheekbone. He fixed the glasses as best he could, his fingers grazing lightly over the man's flawless cheeks.

John sighed, Mike's touch soothing him. He didn't really know what they were. For now John just considered Mike a friend that just so happened to be taking care of him and helping him through his shitty life.