#rake yohn

You knew you were being ridiculous getting so upset over something so innocuous.

When you'd agreed to be on Viva La Bam with Bam and the rest of the group, you'd done so knowing full well that it was fun, trashy, scripted MTV nonsense, and that you were going to have to participate in some insane plotlines for the sake of boosting the show's ratings.

That didn't make this particular insane plotline any easier to swallow.

"I don't get it. They're gonna bring in a hot Russian mail-order bride, and they're gonna make you marry you her in Vegas? How exactly is that gonna be entertaining?"

You were leaning against the wall of Bam's bathroom, your arms crossed in frustration as you stared down at the floor. Raab, your boyfriend, was sitting across from you on the (closed) toilet seat, stressfully fixing his beanie and rubbing his forehead.

"No clue, baby. I tried to convince Bam to give the whole thing to Dico instead, but he said Dico already refused to do it cuz he's seeing some girl and it's getting pretty serious. You think maybe we should just tell them about us and get it over with? They'll give us shit for it, but at least we won't have to go through all this wedding BS."

You sighed. "I wish I could say that was a good idea, but knowing Bam, he'd make you marry this chick anyway and then force me to mud wrestle her for your honor or some shit."

Raab laughed, and you couldn't hold back a small smile, but neither of you were in particularly good moods.

See, even though you and Raab had been dating for almost a year, no one else knew. You'd been keeping it a secret from everyone; Bam, Ryan, Rake, Dico, Frantz, Jenn, even April and Phil. As far as they (and the rest of the world) knew, Raab was the group's resident bachelor, and you were as annoyed with and disgusted by him as you'd been back when you were all high schoolers and his primary talents were pissing people off and projectile shitting on command.

It wasn't that the two of you were embarrassed to be together, or that your relationship would have somehow broken up the friend group. If anything, finding out you and Raab had slowly (and secretly) fallen in love while filming Haggard probably would have prompted cheers, overly enthusiastic back-slaps, and an immediate visit to the nearest bar to celebrate. Hell, Bam and Frantz probably would have included it in Haggard's behind-the-scenes footage as a nice little side story.

But that was the problem — neither of you wanted your relationship to turn into content for a TV show or a CKY project. You both knew what it meant for everyone to know the two of you were together. It meant Bam and Dico barging in on you and Raab sleeping to throw heavy objects at your heads as a "prank." It meant the guys hiding hidden cameras in your bedroom or filming you through your window so they could put footage of you and Raab having sex in one of Bam's future projects. It meant opening up the possibility that the Viva La Bam producers would try to start drama between you and your boyfriend for the sake of ratings. It meant the end of any semblance of privacy.

For that reason, the two of you had been sneaking around and hiding your relationship for almost a full year now, ever since the last night of filming for Haggard (when Raab had pulled you into a bathroom during the wrap party to confess that he thought about you constantly and didn't just want to be friends anymore). It had been difficult, and there'd been a couple close calls where Dico almost caught the two of you dry-humping in Bam's bedroom, but for the most part it had been fine. That is, right up until Bam decided he was going to make Raab go through a Las Vegas wedding ceremony with a mail-order bride.

"I mean, I guess at least it's not a real wedding, right? It's a kitschy Vegas ceremony, the marriage certificate isn't gonna be real...the only thing I'm really pissed about is that you're gonna have to kiss her for the ceremony. Oh, and the fact that everyone who watches the show is gonna think you're married to someone else."

You chewed your lip in thought, mentally debating on how difficult it was going to be for you to watch your boyfriend kiss a hot Russian woman in front of a shit ton of cameras.

Raab grimaced. "Not to mention the fact that the guys are probably gonna try to make me share a hotel room with her that night."

Ah, fuck. You hadn't even thought about that. If Raab didn't at least try to hook up with the girl, Bam and the guys would all get suspicious, and you were far from thrilled about the idea of Raab sharing a bed with her, even if sex wasn't going to be involved.

"I'm not gonna lie, honey, I might actually have a heart attack."

Raab leaned over to take your hand, giving it a comforting squeeze.

"I'm not gonna share a room with her, baby, I promise. I don't even want to kiss anyone except you."

You pulled him up to his feet and leaned in to give him a quick kiss.

"Sweet boy. I know you don't, but I guess you're gonna have to anyway if we want to keep up appearances. Just make it a really gross kiss so she won't want to do it again, you know? Eat a bunch of garlic beforehand, and use a shit ton of spit."

Raab burst out laughing in that adorable way he always did when he genuinely thought something was hilarious, and you grinned, cupping his face to go in for another, longer kiss. When you pulled away, his face was bright red, he was breathing slightly harder, and you could feel something hard against your thigh. You raised an eyebrow.

"Awfully bold of you to get horny when we've only got, like, 5 minutes left before the guys get back with that pizza."

Raab grinned sheepishly. "I'm sure it'll go down on its own."

You threw your arms around his neck and moved to pin him against the wall, jamming your knee against his boner as you pressed small kisses to the side of his neck.

"Fuck that, I wanna make you cum."

Raab moved to grip at your hips for support, grinding his bulge up against your knee and panting softly under his breath, and you slid your hand down his pants and into his boxers to give his hard dick a squeeze.

"Oh fuck." His mouth dropped open, and he buried his face in your neck, bucking up against your hand like he was desperate for friction. You rested your free hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair as you whispered seductively in his ear.

"This is all mine, right sweetie? I don't want anyone else touching you like this, especially not that Russian chick. Your cock belongs to me, you got it?"

You slid the pad of your thumb over his leaking tip, and he gasped, nodding eagerly and nuzzling his face deeper into your neck.

"Yeah, baby, of course, my cock is all yours. No one else gets to touch it, or look at it, or do anything with it—oh shit, that feels good."

You rubbed circles over his cockhead, your finger slick with his precum, and he pulled away from your neck to give you a needy, slightly sloppy kiss, moaning against your mouth when you pushed your hand all the way down into his boxers and started roughly jerking his shaft. You loved the way he always reacted when you touched him; the way his belly jerked and his eyes squeezed shut and his cock twitched like he was already so close to cumming (which he usually was).

Sure enough, Raab’s hips were already starting to stutter, and you dropped to your knees and pulled his underwear and pants down until his cock popped out, running your tongue over his slit and aiming the tip at your mouth.

"Come on, baby, go ahead and cum in my mouth. Let me taste you."

You gave his shaft a couple more hard pumps and stuck your tongue out, and he came with a loud whine, throwing his head back against the wall and bucking his hips to ride out his orgasm as his cum coated your tongue.

He glanced down to watch you swallow it (his favorite part), and then he gently helped you up, giving you a sweet peck on the lips and quickly tucking his softening cock back into his pants. You zipped up and buttoned his pants for him, and he helpfully wiped your mouth with the sleeve of his sweatshirt and smoothed down your hair.

"How many minutes was that?"

You grinned. "I'd say probably 3 and a half."

"Guess we've got a minute and a half to get our asses out of this bathroom and make it look like we weren't doing anything suspicious while everyone was gone."

The two of you left the bathroom, giving each other another quick kiss before you split off in two separate directions; Raab beelined to the living room and went to flop down in his usual spot on the couch to pretend to be asleep, while you went off to the kitchen and picked up a cloth to start "drying" the dishes April had washed earlier. They were already dry from sitting out for so long, of course, but no one else needed to know that.

You heard the front door swing open, followed by the sound of several loud voices overlapping each other as everyone poured into the living room. Bam had taken everyone out to grab pizza for a pre-filming lunch, and you and Raab had both opted to stay back, Raab claiming he wanted to nap off a hangover and you insisting you'd rather stay home and do some cleaning for Ape than deal with everyone's antics at the crowded pizza shop.

The two of you had picked up a system for not making the others suspicious: you only stayed back together once in a while. Most of the time you'd both go do whatever bizarre plans Bam had in store, and occasionally one of you would stay back while the other would go. It was frustrating having to be so meticulous about it, but it was either that or risk one of the guys catching on, so you went with it. Sometimes you even took it a step further and instigated fake fights with Raab to make it seem like you didn't want him staying back with you, which was exactly what you'd done on this particular day to be extra convincing.

"Get up, asswipe, the crew's gonna be here soon and your lazy ass can't be passed out on this couch when the cameras are on."

You heard a loud smacking sound, wincing when you realized Bam had thrown something hard at your "sleeping" boyfriend's head. Before you could go investigate, Dico poked his head into the doorway, looking you up and down with an pointedly skeptical face.

"You been drying dishes for Ape the whole time?"

You nodded, not making eye contact. You were pretty confident in your acting abilities at this point, but Dico had always been more perceptive than the other guys in the group, and you were more than a little worried you'd break down and confess if he eyed you too suspiciously.

"Interesting. I swear I remember those already being dry before we left...you sure you didn't do anything else? Didn't do someone else?"

Shit. You forced yourself to look up, trying to look as baffled and grossed out as possible instead of guilty.

"How the fuck would I do someone, Bran? It's just me and Raab here, and he was sleeping the whole time. I wouldn't fuck him anyway, not after how many times I've seen shit literally leave his ass."

Dico still didn't look convinced, so you sighed and slammed the dish down, leaning closer to him like you were about to confide in him.

"Look, you caught me. I didn't clean anything while you guys were gone. I had bad diarrhea, and I didn't want to say that in front of everyone, so I made an excuse to stay back."

You couldn't tell if Dico actually believed you or if he was just choosing to be merciful and back off for the time being, but he nodded, turning his baseball cap backwards with a sympathetic grimace.

"I've been there. I won't say anything, but you should probably come up with a better chore to lie about doing. Come on, eat some pizza before the crew gets here."

You followed Dico to the living room, and the next hour and a half was spent killing time until filming began. You scarfed down pizza on the couch while chatting with Rake, accepted a guided tour of Dunn's tattoos while waiting for the crew to set up their equipment, and exchanged the occasional secretive look with Raab, both of you less than enthused about the storyline you'd soon be participating in.

Filming itself felt like a blur. Bam had all of you gather in his room while he looked through a black-and-white Russian mail-order bride website, eventually pulling Raab over to "spontaneously" tell him that he was going to be marrying one of the girls at a Las Vegas ceremony. Raab tried to act as pleased about the idea as he possibly could, while you did your best to pretend like you were just as amused as everyone else was by the whole thing. By the end of the night, you were sick of fake-laughing and hearing about how hot the Russian chick was, and you ended up sneaking off to go sleep on the couch beside Dico, who seemed to notice your frustration but opted not to press you on it (presumably to avoid your tired, grumpy wrath).

————————————————————————

The flight to Las Vegas was long as hell but relatively uneventful, other than having to endure Bam and the others making constant jokes about the crazy sex Raab and the mail-order bride would probably get up to after the ceremony. After a ride in a hummer limo, a visit to a tattoo shop, and a pit stop at the hotel to show DV his shitty "suite," it was time to get Raab a fancy tux — which was right about the time you started to feel a twitch in your left eye. I'm actually gonna lose it.

Raab went to take his shirt off for the fitting room attendant, and you pointedly looked away; as much as you loved the sight of his body, you could feel Dico staring you down, and you didn't want to fuel his already apparent suspicions any further.

You watched Raab get fitted with a fancy (albeit overly flashy) white suit, trying and failing to suppress a grin when he danced like an idiot and admired his reflection in a nearby mirror. It was hard not to enjoy seeing him put on a tux and have a good time, as much as it sucked that the tux was for a trashy wedding ceremony he'd be having with someone else. You exchanged an amused look with Bam, who turned to one of the cameras and smirked.

"I give it an hour and a half and Raab's gonna be dirt bag filthy."

Bam's time prediction was way too generous; not even five seconds after you guys left the tux store, Raab immediately laid down in the parking lot and let Dunn drag him around by his legs, covering his nice tux in black asphalt marks and shredding it in several places. Everyone playfully gave him shit for fucking his suit up so quickly, especially since he would be getting (fake) married in it, but when he glanced over at you with an obviously pleased look, you realized he'd done it on purpose. He was showing you he didn't give two fucks about the wedding, or about impressing the girl they'd forcibly set him up with. He was trying to make you feel better about the whole thing.

He's so fucking sweet. I'd make him see stars if no one else was here right now.

Unfortunately, even the sweet gesture wasn't enough to prevent the pit in your stomach that you woke up to the next morning. As soon as everyone got up, it was time to go pick up Raab's "bride" from the airport, and although you did your best to act as excited as everyone else, you were dreading it. It was one thing for Raab to say he'd avoid her as much as possible when she was just a hypothetical concept, but now she was physically going to be there in person, and with the guys and the camera crew around, Raab was going to have to actually interact with her and convincingly pretend to be into her.

As everyone waited for the Russian girl to arrive, Bam informed you that she'd had 5 layovers and was probably going to be pissed off. You felt a twinge of sympathy; it wasn't like it was her fault this whole thing was happening. Still, part of you hoped she actually would be in a terrible mood, just so Raab could use it as an excuse to not want to be around her outside of the kitschy wedding ceremony.

When she came walking down the sidewalk, you internally groaned. She was, in fact, very hot, and she also seemed extremely nice — too nice to hate, even if she was going to be (unknowingly) kissing your boyfriend in front of you, and too nice for Raab to use her personality as an excuse to avoid her. Bam instructed Raab to kiss her on the cheek when he greeted her; he flashed you an uncertain look, clearly not on board with the idea, but you both knew he didn't really have a choice unless he wanted the guys to get suspicious and give him shit.

The 'future Mrs. Himself,' as she'd been dubbed by the guys, walked up to introduce herself, shaking Raab's hand as he went in for the kiss he'd been prompted to give her. It was the stiffest, most awkward cheek kiss you'd ever witnessed, and you couldn't decide if his obvious displeasure was reassuring or concerning; after all, you didn't exactly want him to enjoy kissing another girl, but you also didn't want him to have to come up with a justification for his lack of interest to Bam and the others.

Sure enough, Dico (who'd already been intently gauging your reaction to the mail-order bride) smelled blood in the water and attacked.

"Geez, Raab, you call that a kiss? She's gonna be your wife soon, at least act like you like her."

Raab rolled his eyes and grinned. "Just trying to be polite. I'm not gonna jump all over her like a horndog when she just got here."

Good save, baby.

Raab seemed to realize he needed to act more invested, and he made a few attempts to ask the girl some questions as everyone left the airport.

"So you're from Moscow?"

The Russian girl gave him a confused look. "What?"

It occurred to you that there'd been no indication the girl spoke any English. Guess at least he's got an excuse not to talk to her. Raab tried a few more basic questions, but it quickly became apparent that she wasn't going to understand anything he said, and he happily gave up, taking the opportunity to trail a few feet behind her so he could be a little closer to you. The two of you were the last ones outside the car, and Raab discreetly reached back to grab your hand and give it a quick squeeze before he got in — probably the only moment of affection the two of you would be getting to share for the entirety of the trip.

You moved to sit between Rake and Dico, internally praying the latter would leave you alone during the ride. Unfortunately, your prayers went unanswered.

"I saw that."

It was a mumble, borderline a whisper, so you knew Dico wasn't trying to get you in trouble; he was trying to get a reaction out of you, if the slightly smug look on his face was anything to go by.

"Saw what? Me picking my nose? I wasn't trying to be subtle, Bran."

He laughed, but his stare didn't get any less lethal. "What did you need to hold his hand for? Moral support?"

Jesus fucking Christ, this man has eyes in the back of his head. You knew there was no good explanation for why Raab had held your hand, so you opted for plan B: flat-out denial.

"What the fuck are you talking about? He high-fived me. Why would he even want to hold my hand when he's got a hot Russian chick here that's gonna be sucking his dick tonight anyway? I'm starting to think you've got a fetish for imagining me and Raab together, Bran."

Dico flashed you an uncharacteristically annoyed look, and you sensed he was getting tired of you denying his suspicions, but he (thankfully) continued to whisper so no one else in the car would overhear.

"Look, these assholes might be too stupid to notice, but I know something's up with you two. Deny it all you want, but I'm not letting up. I swear you two are fucking, and I'm not letting up til I get proof."

He turned away and started cracking jokes with Bam, and you nervously leaned back against your seat and stared out the window, mentally debating on whether or not to warn Raab that Dico was onto both of you. On one hand, you didn't want your boyfriend to slip up and give Dico the "proof" he was looking for, but on the other hand, you didn't want to stress Raab out and make the wedding ceremony even harder for him to get through. He was laughing his ass off up front at whatever joke Bam had just made, and you couldn't bring yourself to wipe that adorable smile off his face. Fuck it, no point in freaking him out even more. I'll tell him when we're back in West Chester.

If the airport meeting was difficult for you, it was nothing compared to what came next. After a chaotic visit to a casino that ended in Don Vito being kicked out, Bam announced that he was sending Raab and his soon-to-be bride off on their own to explore Las Vegas while he, you and the others went off to a secret skate park. Raab reluctantly lead the girl away with a cameraman in tow, and you watched after them, feeling that weird pit in your stomach again when she linked her arm through Raab's and rested a head on his shoulder.

Holy shit, am I actually jealous? You'd felt possessive over your boyfriend this whole time, sure, but you'd chalked it up to frustration over having to keep your relationship with him a secret. It hadn't even occurred to you that her presence could make you feel threatened, that seeing her touch on your boyfriend and spend time alone with him could genuinely elicit jealousy from you. Sure, Raab seemed visibly uncomfortable with her, and he'd told you he didn't want anyone except you, but she was still a smoking hot girl with a sexy accent, and you couldn't help but wonder if she'd end up charming him anyway.

“Come on, mopey, we gotta go. You can see your boyfriend after he takes his bride out on the town.”

You glared at Dico, but followed him, grumbling stubbornly. “Not my boyfriend.”

You zoned out most of what went down at the skate park, too busy anxiously imagining the stuff Raab and the new girl were getting up to by themselves. Feeding each other ice cream? Holding hands? Tonguing on a park bench? Don’t be a fucking moron. We’re in Vegas, she doesn’t speak English, and they’ve got a camera following them around. They’re probably looking at lame monuments and struggling to communicate.

As it turned out, you were right on the money. When everyone met back up to briefly review the footage from Raab’s outing, Bam made a face and shook his head.

“I can’t believe you didn’t make out with her or anything, Raab.”

Your boyfriend raised his hands defensively. “She doesn’t understand what I’m saying, dude, I’m not making out with her. I thought you wanted me to show her the town, that’s what I did.”

You had to give Raab credit, he was a lot more convincing than you were. Even in the footage, he’d found clever ways to seem into the girl without actually touching her; they’d both held her stuffed animal instead of holding hands, he’d taken her to places she seemed to genuinely like, and he told the camera he was loving spending time with her. Of course, that didn’t help the pit of jealousy that was still growing inside you.

“Seemed pretty romantic to me, Bam. Did you see how she was looking at him? She was into it. Girls like it when guys move slow and don’t try to jump all over them.”

Bam seemed pretty convinced by your words, and he left Raab alone to go over the rest of the day’s itinerary with the crew. Raab watched him walked away, and then glanced around to make sure no one else was in earshot before giving you an earnestly worried look as he spoke in a low tone.

“It wasn’t too romantic, was it? I didn’t wanna upset you, but the camera guy kept pushing me to give him some good footage.”

You nodded reassuringly. “You did good, baby, I’m not mad. I’ll admit I was a little jealous that she got to spend the day alone with you while I was stuck with these assholes at a skate park, but that’s not your fault.”

“Jealous? I was thinking about you the whole time.”

Raab grinned, giving you a look that was a little too loving considering that everyone else was there and could see him. You glanced across the room to where Dico was standing, and sure enough, he was watching you both intently, looking as suspicious as ever.

“I’m not trying to scare you, Raab, but Dico’s watching us. Try not to look like you like me too much.”

Raab’s eyes widened, and he nodded. “Oh shit, right. Hold on.”

He pretended to pick a booger out of his nose and tried to wipe it on your sleeve, and you made a disgusted face and playfully shoved him, running across the room in fake fear to talk to Dunn and Rake.

“God, he’s so fucking gross. Tried to wipe his nasty ass boogers on me.”

Dunn took a sip of his beer and laughed. “Hey, at least it wasn’t shit.”

————————————————————————

The next few hours were so fun that you briefly forgot about the wedding ceremony altogether. Everyone went to a salon so Phil and Don Vito could get haircuts (and, in DV's case, a "soul patch" made from Bam's pubes), and you were too busy laughing your ass off to think about what was coming later. Raab somehow managed to get his suit even dirtier, getting a mysterious green stain right under the collar and a large patch of blue paint on the lapel. His black hat was covered in what looked like food but could have easily been snot, although you spared yourself from finding out which one it actually was.

Unfortunately, you didn't get to be distracted for long. After leaving the salon, everyone piled into the limo, and you spent the entire ride listening to the guys (and DV) give Raab terrible advice about the wedding, which only served to remind you that you were about to watch your boyfriend "marry" someone else in front of your entire friend group and a shit ton of cameras. Even with his suit covered in gross stains and beer, he looked amazing, and the possessiveness you'd been feeling for the past few days started to compound, especially when the Russian girl started taking cute photos of Raab with a digital camera. I should steal that camera from her so she can’t keep the photos after this…shit, I sound like a fucking middle schooler.

When the limo pulled up to the 'Little White Wedding Chapel,' you felt a lump form in your throat, a feeling that was only compounded when the camera crew directed Raab to lock arms with his soon-to-be bride for a quick photo-op. Raab was in generally good spirits, hyping himself up for the camera and straightening his horribly stained tie and hat, but there was a tinge of nervousness to his body language. He moved away from everyone else to speak to Bam privately (albeit in front of a camera), and you tried to eavesdrop as subtly as you could.

"Don Vito's bugging me out, dude. He's saying all this...50 percent for life..."

Is he trying to pull out? It was admittedly a smart tactic to use Don Vito's warnings as an excuse, but you knew it wouldn't work on Bam.

"You're listening to Don Vito, what're you thinking? Everything's all good, right? You in?"

Raab snuck a glance at you, like he was waiting for your approval, and you gave a quick nod. Might as well it over with, baby.

"...yeah, I'm in."

Everyone stood by the limo and waited for the crew to finish setting up their equipment inside, and you watched as April helped the Russian girl put on her bridal veil. The pit in your stomach tripled immediately, and you mumbled something about being right back and ran inside to find the nearest bathroom, ignoring Dico's questioning stare. Bam called after you, sounding mildly perturbed.

"Make it a quick shit! We start filming in 10."

You weren't even really sure why you bothered to head to the bathroom, but once you found it, you locked the door behind you and leaned against the sink, splashing water on your face and giving yourself an impromptu pep talk.

"Come on, don't be such a baby, you can do this. It's not a real wedding, it's just for ratings. You just have to watch them walk down the aisle. And say some fuckass vows. And kiss...fuck, why do they have to kiss?"

Someone knocked on the door, and you flinched.

"Occupado, dude, it's a single-person bathroom."

"It's me, baby. Let me in really quick."

You felt a jolt of excitement, but then frowned. Why was Raab doing something so risky right before the ceremony?

You turned the lock and opened the door, and Raab immediately slipped inside and locked it back behind him, looking you over with a worried frown.

"You okay, baby? I was worried you ran off to puke."

You nodded with a sigh. "Yeah, I'm alright. I guess I didn't realize how much this whole thing bothered me until Ape put the veil on that girl. I know it's not a real wedding, but it still feels like it somehow, and everyone who watches the show is gonna think it's real and that you're actually married to some hot Russian model instead of me."

Raab gently cupped your face to give you a reassuring kiss, and when he pulled away, he leaned his forehead against yours.

"You’re a million times hotter than she is. Listen, I'm not kidding. If you want me to call this bullshit off and tell them, I'll do it right now. I don't care if Bam gets pissed off with us, we'll just take a flight home together and ignore his calls for a few days."

It was beyond tempting, and the fact that you could tell he was serious made you want to swoon, but you couldn't bring yourself to agree to it. You already felt ridiculous enough being upset about this whole thing, and you'd only feel even worse if you were the reason Raab called off the ceremony after so much effort had been put into it.

"We've already come this far. It's alright, sweetie, let's just do it. Say whatever bullshit vows they give you, kiss her once, try to avoid getting put in a hotel room with her, and we'll figure everything else out when we're back in West Chester."

Raab nodded, looking slightly disappointed. "Alright, if you say so. I didn't get a chance to eat any garlic before we got here, but I'll use a ton of spit and gross her out, just you wait."

You couldn't hold back your laughter, and Raab grinned, satisfied he'd made you feel a little better. You moved to unlock the bathroom door so you could both leave, but he stopped you.

"Wait. We've still got, like, seven minutes, and I've missed you so much this whole trip. I just wanna be here alone with you for a little longer."

You giggled, reaching out to stroke his face and grabbing him by his stained suit lapel. "Oh my god, honey, you're the sweetest. Come here."

Raab didn’t have to be told twice; he went in for a sweet but starving kiss, pressing his body right up against yours like he was drawn in by a magnet. You could feel him getting hard through his suit, but you both knew you weren’t going to be able to make him cum this time, especially not when just kissing was already such a risky move. Still, you couldn’t resist running a hand down to palm his bulge through the suit, and he let out a needy whine and moved to grab at your ass.

"You're gonna make it even harder for me to leave if you keep doing that, baby...maybe we should just focus on you this time."

He groped at your breasts through your shirt and then tugged the collar down until they both popped up, hungrily wrapping his lips around your right nipple and suckling as he moved a hand down to rub at your clothed pussy. Raab had an amazing talent for immediately finding your clit regardless of what you were wearing, and he pressed two fingers up against it, his eyes glinting with satisfaction when you gasped.

"Let me take this off so I can see your face better." You pulled the stained hat off his head and laid it on the sink, affectionately running your fingers through his hair as he suckled on your boob and rubbed at your sweet spot. He wrapped his free arm around your waist to steady himself and switched to the other boob, his lips red and wet with drool.

You marveled over how pretty his eyelashes looked when he squeezed his eyes shut, how focused he was on pleasing you even though you were both extremely stressed and pressed for time. A girl that all the guys had referred to as "one of the hottest girls" they'd ever seen was outside waiting to do a wedding ceremony with him, and he was in here sucking your boobs like it was his life's purpose. He really is all mine.

He pulled his mouth away and pressed kisses over your nipple, looking up at you with awestruck eyes.

"Let me make you cum, baby, you deserve it for putting up with all of this."

Before you could respond, you heard the sound of loud footsteps from outside, followed by someone loudly pounding on the door and jiggling the knob.

"Yo, you almost done shitting in there? Crew's done setting up and we need you out here before filming starts."

You breathed a sigh of relief. Dunn, not Dico. Dico would have snuck up to the door quietly, eavesdropped, and then confronted both of you. Ryan had zero suspicions about you and Raab, and he wouldn't have cared enough to investigate even if he did.

"Yeah, sorry, I'm basically done. Give me a minute and I'll be out there."

"Cool. You happen to know where Raab is? He said he needed to take a piss, but he wasn't in the men's room."

Raab looked like he was struggling not to laugh, and you covered his mouth with a grin.

"No clue. I'm sure he'll turn up soon, he won't let that haggard-ass tux go to waste."

Ryan laughed, and you heard him walk away from the door and back out to where everyone was waiting. Raab buried his face in your neck, his shoulders shaking with laughter, and you kissed the top of his head and wrapped your arms around him to hug him.

"My suit's not that haggard, it's just...a little dirty."

You grabbed Raab's hat from the sink and placed it back on his head, wiping the drool from his mouth with a skeptical look.

"Raab, that thing looks like it's been through a meat grinder."

He helped you tuck your breasts back into your shirt and smoothed down your hair, a look of mild disappointment on his face.

"I really wanted to make you cum."

You smiled, kissing him on the nose and turning to check your reflection in the mirror for any obvious signs you'd been messing around with Raab in the bathroom. All clear.

"We'll continue this later, sweetie. Later might mean a couple days from now, when we're back in West Chester, but still..."

You unlocked the door and moved to leave, turning back to squeeze Raab's hand one more time.

"Wait a minute or so, then leave once you're sure no one's around. I'll see you out there. Look happy, but not too happy. I don't like sharing you. Also, you should probably tuck your boner into your waistband."

Raab looked absolutely miserable to see you go, but you forced yourself to pull your hand away, leaving and closing the door behind you. You quickly ran outside to meet up with the guys, who promptly began making fun of you.

"I told you not to take a long ass shit, dude. We're on a strict schedule here, this is serious business."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Bam. I'm here now, let's get this show on the road."

Dico gave you a sly look. "Can't start until the groom is here. You wouldn't happen to know where Raab is, would you?"

You shrugged, pretending to pick lint off your shirt. "No clue, didn't see him. Probably went to have a quick jerk session before the wedding."

Before he could respond, Raab came running outside, one hand on his hat to keep it from flying off his head.

"My bad guys, couldn't figure out how to get my dick out of these tux pants without taking them all the way off. Thought I was gonna piss myself."

It was your turn to give Dico a smug look. "Guess we solved that mystery."

————————————————————————

Even after the bathroom session, seeing Raab and the Russian girl stand at the altar was a tough pill to swallow.

Don Vito had decided it was his duty to prevent the wedding from taking place and had parked his mobility scooter near the stage to call Raab an idiot for going through with the wedding; it was the only time you'd ever found yourself actually appreciating DV's demented antics.

The Russian girl pointed out that if Raab didn't like her, he could divorce her, and the two of you exchanged a knowing look as DV shouted about how divorce wasn't a thing in America. Raab pointed out that Phil was missing, and you smiled to yourself; you'd been the only person Bam told ahead of time about Phil's plan to rush into the room dressed as Elvis and flanked by other Elvis impersonators.

You were able to take a brief break from your frustration to enjoy watching Phil ask April to remarry him, and you cheered with everyone else as April agreed to make it a double wedding. Bam's parents went to stand beside Raab and the Russian girl, and the wedding officiant came out to begin the vows.

You tuned out pretty much all of them, your eyes locked on Raab's hands as they moved to hold his soon-to-be bride's. He was using the weakest grip possible, bordering on hovering his hands above hers like he didn't want to touch them, but she tightened her own grip and moved a step closer, presumably in preparation for the kiss.

Fuck. The kiss. You'd been so sure you could handle it, especially now that Raab had done so much to prove that he only loved you and didn't want anyone else, but the pit in your stomach had returned tenfold, and suddenly the idea of seeing him kiss this woman was eating you up inside. You tried to push the thoughts away and focus on looking happy, but now that your brain was in panic mode, it couldn't seem to stop.

Why did it bother you so badly? One little kiss for a wedding that wasn't even real and was only there to pad out the runtime of a reality TV show. It was the farthest thing from a big deal, and you knew that.

And then it hit you — it wasn't the kiss that bothered you, or the vows, or the wedding ceremony, or even the idea of Viva La Bam fans thinking Raab was with someone other than you. It was the fact that you were sick of sneaking around. You'd spent the past year having to duck into bathrooms just to kiss your boyfriend, having to pretend like you didn't like him when everyone was around, having to meticulously plan out times where you both could stay back and be alone together without creating suspicion. You'd spent every day watching in envy as Bam and Jenn kissed and cuddled and fucked whenever they wanted, and endured countless conversations where the guys made fun of you for supposedly being single or tried to hook you up with random men.

You could sit there and put up with the kiss, but it dawned on you that your problems wouldn't end there. Raab would still probably get pressured to share a hotel room with the girl that night, and he'd have to find some way to shake her off when you all returned to Philadelphia.

Even after she was out of the picture, you'd both still have to sneak around and put on an act and constantly miss each other even when you were in the same room. How long would that have to go on? Until the end of the show? Until Bam was done making CKY videos? Would you guys still be sneaking around in your 40s and 50s? Was it really worth it, just to avoid having your relationship used for content? Bam already tormented both of you on camera for content anyway; why endure that shit alone when you could be going through it together?

"Now gentlemen, if you'll take the rings and place them it on your bride's left hand?"

Raab reluctantly placed the ring on her finger, and you realized you had ten seconds to make a decision. Raab basically begged me to let him shut this down earlier...maybe we can catch the next flight back to PA and fuck in the airplane bathroom. Shit…am I actually gonna do this? Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

"By the authority given unto me, by the state of Nevada, I now pronounce you—"

"I object!"

You stood up from your seat so hard it knocked over, and everyone turned to look at you in shock. Raab looked surprised, then pleased, then positively ecstatic.

"Uh...he didn't ask if anyone objected to the marriage, dude. What the fuck are you doing?"

Bam gave you a confused but mildly intrigued look, and you sighed.

"I'm taking my boyfriend back."

You strode over and brushed past the Russian girl, grabbing Raab by his suit lapel and pulling him into an even hungrier kiss than the one he'd given you in the bathroom just a few minutes earlier.

April gasped, Bam let out a "No fucking way!", Don Vito started yelling about polygamy, and the rest of the guys absolutely lost their shit.

"I fucking knew it!" Dico turned his hat backwards and kicked his seat over, turning to the nearest camera with a victorious look. "I've had this case cracked for months. MTV, you owe me $5 million. I'll take either an oversized check or a truckload of K-Mart gift cards."

You pulled away from kissing your boyfriend and looked over at Bam.

"Sorry, man. We've been dating since you finished filming Haggard. We just didn't want to tell you cuz we knew you'd use it to annoy the shit out of us and put it on TV. I'd rather you do that then let Raab marry some hot Russian chick though, so the wedding is off."

Bam looked astonished, but was visibly in a much better mood than you'd expected him to react with.

"Off? Fuck that, dude, we're already here. Why don't you two get married instead?"

Get married? It was a fake wedding, of course, but it still sounded like a pretty big deal. You exchanged a look with Raab, who nodded eagerly.

"I'm so in."

The Russian girl took her veil off and ring off and returned them to you, and you grimaced apologetically. "Sorry for derailing your wedding."

She shook her head happily. "This is very romantic."

You and Raab linked arms beside April and Phil, and the officiator awkwardly returned to his vows, skipping ahead to the best part as the Russian girl got her digital camera out to take photos.

"Alright, if there's no more major interruptions planned...gentlemen, you may now kiss your brides."

Phil and April immediately went in for a massive kiss that absolutely stole the show, and as everyone's attention turned to them, you took the opportunity to whisper to your boyfriend.

"I'm so glad we don't have to kiss in bathrooms anymore."

Raab grinned as he leaned in to kiss you. "So am I."

————————————————————————

After the ceremony, Don Vito stole your bridal veil and your (fake) husband, riding off on his mobility scooter with Raab seated on an armrest. Everyone piled back into the limo and headed off to the reception, where you were bombarded with more hugs, back-slaps, and playful shoves than you'd ever had in your life; evidently, the crew was convinced that your intervention was even better for ratings than the original plan, and the guys were pretty impressed that you and Raab had managed to sneak around for so long.

You sat with the guys on one of the couches at the party pad, watching with a smile as Raab goofily danced to music across the room with some of the hula girls Bam had hired.

"Wait, so let me get this straight. When I knocked on that bathroom door, Raab was in there with you? And you guys were fucking?"

You rolled your eyes. "No, Dunn, we weren't fucking. We were messing around, but his dick wasn't out or anything."

Dico shook his head smugly. "I would have 100% caught you both if I'd checked on you instead of Dunn."

You laughed. "Yes, Dico, we know. I admit it, you had us figured out all along."

Bam wheeled out his present to April: a cake topper to replace the one Don Vito had eaten after her and Phil's wedding in the 70s. April immediately smashed it into DV's face, and a cake war ensued. You smeared frosting all over Dico's face, smashed a chunk of cake into Rake's hair, and lobbed a massive piece at Bam that practically knocked him over. Everyone was targeting Don Vito, Dico was relentlessly ambushing Rake, and Phil was trying to cut himself a slice off of an untouched layer before anyone could use it as a projectile.

Right in the middle of all the chaos, Raab tapped you on the shoulder, his suit covered in cake and his lips smeared with frosting and fondant.

"Quick bathroom meeting? We don't have to sneak off this time."

You grinned and took his hand, letting him lead you away to one of the bathrooms on the second floor of April and Phil's suite. When he pulled you inside, you grabbed a couple of paper towels and wet them in the sink, helpfully wiping most of the sugar off Raab's face.

"So, what'd you wanna meet in here for? I thought we were done with bathrooms. Not complaining, just curious."

Raab grinned. "We didn't get to finish what we started earlier. Thought maybe another bathroom would put us back in the mood."

You laughed, leaning in to lick the remaining frosting off his lips.

"Not a bad idea. What did you have in mind?"

Raab dropped down to his knees, leaning his head against your thigh as he looked up at you pleadingly.

"Let me make you cum."

Oh fuck. "You drive a hard bargain, baby."

You leaned back against the sink, and Raab wasted no time pulling your pants down to your knees and moving your panties aside, burying his face in your pussy like it was his favorite meal (which it probably was, in all fairness). He lapped at your clit and wrapped his lips around it, squeezing your ass to keep himself steady as he pushed his mouth as close to your lips as he could possibly go.

You rested your hands on the back of his head and hooked a leg around his neck to give him better access. He traced circles over your clit with his tongue, moaning against your pussy like a whore even though no one was touching his cock. You threw your head back, your mouth dropping open at the vibrations, and Raab pulled away, his face wet.

"Look at me, baby, I wanna see your face."

You forced yourself to look down, your eyes half-lidded from the pleasure; his sweet-natured face was unusually flushed, his gaze locked on yours as he desperately searched for signs of your approval. You tangled your fingers in his hair and lightly tugged, eliciting a whiny groan and another firm suck on your clit. Raab's grip on your ass tightened, and he swirled his tongue around repeatedly, getting you closer and closer to the edge as he worked overtime to please you.

Raab pulled away and pressed wet kisses to your pussy lips, slipping two fingers inside you to stimulate your clit. Your eyes practically crossed from the feeling; you could feel your legs starting to shake, and Raab grinned and applied even more pressure, rubbing circles over your clit repeatedly as you bucked your hips to bring yourself closer.

"I think I'm gonna...oh fuck, baby, keep going, almost there..."

Raab eagerly replaced his fingers with his tongue again, lapping at your clit over and over incessantly, and you squeezed his face between your thighs and humped against his mouth until you finally came with a loud moan, covering the bottom half of Raab's face in your juices.

"Jesus fucking Christ, that was good."

Raab leaned back on his haunches with a satisfied look on his face. You affectionately rubbed his head, smiling appreciatively when he pressed a quick kiss to your pussy and helped you fix your panties and bottoms. He licked his lips, savoring the taste.

"I can't tell if that sweet taste is you or all that frosting from the cake war...probably both."

You laughed, feeling a wave of happiness hit you knowing that the two of you would be walking out of the bathroom holding hands instead of sneaking out one by one; hell, you'd even get to share a hotel room for the night, which would have seemed unthinkable even the previous day. Raab moved to stand up, grinning like a kid in a candy store, and you helped him to his feet, wiping his mouth and trying to fix his messy hair.

"Your poor lips...everyone's gonna know right away what we were up to in here. Bam probably already put a hidden camera in all the bathrooms here just to get a head start on messing with us."

You felt a pang of worry as you said it, even though you were joking. Raab had seemed more than on board with revealing your relationship to everyone, but you wondered if he (and you) would regret it once the pranks inevitably started. Can we really handle this?

To your surprise though, Raab just shrugged, looking happier than you'd ever seen him as he leaned over to kiss you.

"Good, I hope he did. Then everyone can see how much I love eating you out; sounds like a win-win to me!"

It was such a small thing, but it instantly made your whole body relax, like a heavy weight had suddenly fallen off your shoulders. He loved you, and he wanted everyone to know, and he didn’t really care if that meant dealing with Bam’s antics. He just wanted to be with you, and you felt the same for him.

You took Raab’s hand, pulling him out of the bathroom and flicking the light off. As you both walked down the hallway back toward the loud party unfolding downstairs, Raab thought of something and winced.

“We’re probably gonna need to go buy some protective gear when we get back to West Chester. Dico’s itching to throw a bag of flour on us while we’re asleep, I can just feel it.”