Title: Good Morning Beautiful
Pairing: Justin Gabriel/John Cena (I'm calling it Cenabriel from here on out, dammit.)
Rating: T
Summary: It feels like every day, he's going ninety miles an hour, just trying to get everything done. Eating, press, training, rehearsing, taping, sleeping, traveling...it's all a blur. He's not even sure what day it is.
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
Author's Note: So basically, my laptop hard drive crashed and deleted the last nine months of my life. This includes all my fanfiction. I'd had over 200,000 words written, and it's all gone. So I'm having to start from scratch on a lot of stuff. On top of that, I have a 'verse I'm working on with a couple friends that is going to be absolutely epic when it's done, but it's got a long way to go. Basically, bear with me. Haha. Oh yea, and there might be a lot more where this came from. I don't really know yet. Enjoy. =)
Warnings: None.
Justin's so tired of being stressed. Exhausted isn't the word. He feels like a zombie. It feels like every day, he's going ninety miles an hour, just trying to get everything done. Eating, press, training, rehearsing, taping, sleeping, traveling...it's all a blur. He's not even sure what day it is. So, by the time he finally gets a day alone, he passes out the second he gets to the apartment, clothes on, sprawled across the bed. He wishes he could stay up and wait for John, but he just feels drained. As he slips into sleep, all he can think is that he hopes John will understand.
III
When he wakes up, it's to the sound of soft, deep humming. He blinks awake, and realizes slowly that he feels more awake than he has in months. As his eyes start to focus, he realizes the voice has begun singing.
"Good morning, beautiful. How was your night?"
Justin pushes himself up a bit onto one arm, looking at his lover with a smile. John moves closer, resting a hand on his cheek as he continues singing.
"Mine was wonderful with you by my side, and when I open my eyes and see your sweet face, it's a good morning, beautiful day."
The high flyer blushes as John leans in and kisses him softly, his thumb brushing over the younger's cheek. Justin kisses him back, a hand coming up to hold onto John's arm tightly, as if the older may disappear at any moment (and Justin's not entirely sure he won't. It seems as if the only time he sees John anymore is in his dreams). Even when the Superstar separates their lips, he doesn't back up very far, staring into his Justin's eyes.
"Jesus, I missed you." he whispers.
Justin presses soft kisses along his jawline before meeting his eyes again.
"I missed you, too. More, even!"
John laughs a bit.
"No way." he responds, pulling Justin to sit in his lap.
Justin takes a deep breath, just taking in his lover's scent, savoring it for later. Who even knows how long he'll need it to last this time? It's almost bittersweet. John senses his discomfort, though, as he always does, and presses a kiss to his hair.
"Baby, stop thinking. I'm here right now. You're in my arms, Angel. I'm real, and you're here. Don't worry about anything else." the Superstar whispers, nuzzling into dark hair.
Justin just whines a little, slumping against John, almost in tears with how thankful he is to be right here, in this moment. Suddenly, he finds his face in John's hands and the older's lips on his solidly. He kisses back with a passion, a fire in his veins, and it's several minutes before he finally pulls back. He pants, staring at John as lovingly as he possibly can. He's confused when the Superstar brings his hands right back up, swiping careful thumbs across his cheeks, until he sees that John's hands have come back wet. He hadn't even realized he was crying.
"John..." he whispers almost forlornly, before he's pulled into loving arms wrapping tightly around him.
He nuzzles into John's chest, trying as hard as he can not to cry, but it's not working. He's so tired of being tired, all the time. He's sick of missing home. He's sick of missing his bed. He's sick of missing John.
"Justin...Paul..." John tries, rubbing Justin's back as carefully as he can. He hates to see the boy like this. He knows how rough his first year was being single. He can't imagine it in a relationship.
"I missed you..." Justin whimpers, and John pulls him ever closer.
"I know, baby. I know. I missed you too, love. So fucking much." John returns, speaking right into the boy's ear.
Justin tilts his head up to face John, looking him dead in the eye. John suddenly can't breathe; he never can when the high flyer blinds him with all that blatant emotion. He'd say he can't believe how much he loves this kid, but moments like these make that statement untrue. Right now, he can't figure out how anyone wouldn't be in love with Justin (although he's secretly glad they're not; he hates to share). Justin's near silent sob brings him plummeting back to reality, however, and all of his focus is back on his lover.
"Love? You mean that?" the boy whispers softly.
"Absolutely. You know I love you. More than anyone else, ever, in my life, Justin." John says, rubbing his hands up and down the boy's back, slowly. "What's wrong, baby?"
"I need a break." Justin cries, gripping him tigher.
He's nodding immediately, not even needing to think about it.
"I know. And you'll have one." John promises. One way or another, he thinks. "You, and me. We'll take a break together. Spend the whole thing, just the two of us. If you want, that is."
Justin breaks out a smile, leaning up and kissing John happily. John just keeps his arms around him. This is what he was waiting for. When the high flyer pulls back, it's with a smile on his face.
"I do. You have no idea how much I do." Justin sighs out.
John stalls, smiling brightly once again.
"Good. I'll call Vince this week. Now," John begins, reaching behind him for the tray he had set on the nighstand.
Justin's breath catches when he sees the tray, piled high with food, all homemade. He looks it over three times, as if to make sure it's really there.
"John, what...?" Justin asks, looking from the food to the Superstar and back, almost in shock.
"I, uh. I thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed." John says sheepishly, barely resisting the urge to scratch the back of his neck. Justin can feel it. He smiles brightly, taking the tray and kissing John on the cheek, scooting back against the headboard as if nothing is wrong, as if nothing ever was.
"Thank you. So much." the high flyer says happily, digging into the food.
John grins back, eating some as well, at Justin's beckoning. A few bites into the meal, however, Justin swallows what he's eating and stops, just looking at John. The older swallows as well, albeit slowly, and meets Justin's gaze.
"What is it, babe?" John inquires, a look on concern painted across his features.
"I love you, John. So absolutely, incredibly much." Justin replies, staring straight into John's eyes.
And in that moment, John knows, without a doubt, that not only does Justin actually, really, truly love him, but in the same moment, he realizes that no matter what Justin asks of him, ever, he'll do it. He'd quit the WWE in an instant, if it would make Justin fucking Gabriel smile, just for a moment. He's not sure if it's supposed to scare him, or not. But as he watches Justin eat bite after bite of his terribly butchered food, half-dimpled grin on his face, he decides he really doesn't care. He really, really loves this boy, public be damned.