You’re kicked back on the bed in the hotel. Your legs crossed, controller in hand, as you lean back, your back against the chest of the viper himself. The PS5 hums, and WWE 2K25 is loaded up, menu music pulsing in the background. Randy’s already cracking his knuckles like this is some serious tournament. Character select pops up, and without hesitation, you scroll fast and lock in Randy Orton before he can even blink. He looks over, blinking slow like he’s just been personally attacked. “Seriously?”

You flash him a smug grin. “What? You can’t play yourself, that’s an unfair advantage.”

Randy huffs out a laugh, his chin on your head. “Unfair for you, maybe. But hey, keep talking. You’re about to get a RKO right here in this hotel room.”

You giggle, tossing him a side-eye. “Wow. Threats of violence. Classic deflection. Just admit you’re scared of getting your own butt kicked by… well, yourself.”

He shakes his head with a grin and picks John Cena instead. “Fine. I’ll let Cena handle you.” You look up and kiss the under part of his chin.

And then, out of nowhere, he jabs a finger into your side, making you yelp and try to squirm away. “Hey! Cheap shot!”

“You started it,” he says, as he wraps an arm around you so you can’t move. You roll your eyes and get comfortable again.

The match starts. Ten seconds in, and you’re focused, until Randy suddenly snatches your controller right out of your hands. “Excuse me?” you gasp, watching your Randy character flail helplessly.

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Cena’s gotta do what Cena’s gotta do.”

You turn your body on him, trying to get the controller. You have a pillow in your hand. “This is blasphemy. Either way, you lose, because if I win, you got beat by me. And if you win, congrats, you just beat yourself. How poetic.”

He just smirks, dodging the pillow and mashing buttons like a man possessed. You grab his controller and toss it with a triumphant laugh, before he’s got you pinned on the bed, a smirk on his face. “And you wanna talk about playing dirty huh?”