Name: Brighter Than Sunshine
Pairing: Justin Gabriel/John Cena
Rating: M for excessive use of the word fuck.
POV: 3rd
Summary: The first time John Cena sees Justin Gabriel, it's when the younger appears on NXT. Or, the first story in the Justin Gabriel Is Not A Pussy 'verse. =)
Author's Note: So originally this was gonna be one really longass fic, because I got slapped in the face with the idea for it. Then I figured it'd be easier if I just broke it down into several oneshots that can be read fine without sequals, if for no other reason than I get really busy sometimes and I didn't want this to never get updated. The Justin in this fic has kind of taken on a ballsy little personality, I think in part because I'm tired of seeing him constantly portrayed as either a cockwhore or a total d-bag. I think he's a lot more three-dimensional than that, and I also think he's not really the type to take shit from anyone. And thus, the Sunshine 'verse, AKA the Justin Gabriel Is Not A Pussy 'verse, has been born! I have a lot of parts planned (and some started) to this verse, so hopefully everyone enjoys. I know I'm having a blast writing. =)
Warnings: None.
Disclaimer: I don't own shit.
The first time John Cena sees Justin Gabriel, it's when the younger appears on NXT. John had stopped by to see what these rookies had to offer. He'd seen a lot of talent throughout the night, had been impressed by quite a few of the new wrestlers. He admired the rookies. They had to endure a lot of bullshit just for a shot at a contract. Finally, the episode was over. John wandered backstage to talk to a few of the mentors and meet some of the rookies before he headed home. By the time John finally caught sight of the time, he realized almost everyone had already left.
There was only one other car in the parking lot as the pro made it outside. As he neared the car, he noticed the flattened tires, shattered windows, and obscenities keyed into the paint. He frowned, walking closer. A young man was staring frustratedly at it, one hand on his hip, one tearing through his black hair. John could feel the anger coming off him in waves as he cursed quietly. John proceeded with caution. Suddenly, the other man snapped to attention and spun to face John. His eyes narrowed. John tried to place him. Justin...Gabriel? Yea, that was it.
"Go on, laugh it up. It's hilarious, right? Trashing some rookie's car? Stupid pro wrestler piece of shit." Justin growled.
John's eyes widened. He felt bad for the young foreigner. John remembered he'd enjoyed watching him, had been intrigued by him. John remembered these kinds of things happening to him when he was just getting started.
"I mean really, who fucking does this kind of crap to someone else's stuff, huh?" Gabriel continued, dragging a hand through his hair again, looking at the ground and then back at John.
John had an idea. The keying had Jericho written all over it. He couldn't say anything, though.
"Oh, why in the fuck am I asking you? You probably think this is fucking hysterical. Gonna go back and laugh with all your other pro friends. Whatever, get the fuck out of here." Gabriel finally snapped, making a dismissive motion with his hand. He turned back towards the car and began muttering quietly to himself. "Man, what the hell am I supposed to do? I can't afford to fix this. Fuck, I am so screwed."
John took a step closer, and he watched as Gabriel tensed up, defense mode setting in. Now he really felt bad.
"Do you...Do you need a ride home?" he asked quietly.
Justin turned slowly to face John, looking up and examining his face, searching for a hint of insincerity. When he didn't find any, he slumped slightly, giving in.
"Yea. That'd be great." he said quietly, hanging his head.
John slung a gently arm over his shoulder and began to lead the younger man towards his truck.
"Don't let any of the pros see you. Might be your truck next." Gabriel muttered.
"They wouldn't dare." John said, unlocking the truck and opening the passenger door for Justin. The younger gave him an odd look, but climbed in, letting John shut the door behind him. He watched as Cena cirled the front and slid into the driver's seat, starting the car and pulling out of the parking lot.
"I'll talk to some people. This kind of shit won't happen to you again." John said, almost like a promise.
Justin laughed.
"Yea, right. Your voice won't make any more difference than Matt's did. There's just some things you've got to deal with in order to get what you really want, what you deserve. And if this is one of those, then so be it. I'll keep my head up high and tell em all to go to hell." Justin explained softly.
"This isn't something you should have to put up with, though. This kind of shit's illegal. What else goes on in there?" John asked, angry suddenly.
"Make a right here, and a left at the third light. Nothing you should worry yourself with, Cena. No sense dragging yourself into something stupid like this over some worthless rookie like me." Justin said, turning away from the older man.
John sighed. The rest of the ride went on in silence except for Justin's quiet directions. Eventually, they pulled up to a stop in front of an apartment building.
"Thanks for the ride." Justin said, opening the door and moving to climb down. "It was nice to meet you."
"Wait!" John said, putting a hand on Justin's wrist to stop the younger man. Justin looked at him, expression open.
John fumbled around for a pen and a receipt, scrawling his number on it and pressing it into Justin's hand.
"If you ever need anything, some bullshit like this happens again, you need tips, or if you just get bored and want to talk or something, just text me or call me. I mean it, anything at all." John said.
Justin looked down at it and offered John the slightest of smiles.
"Thanks. I'll keep that in mind." Justin said, turning and shutting the door.
John watched until the younger man was inside the apartment safely before backing the truck up and pulling away. He couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he hoped Justin would call.
III
Justin texts John that night, thanking him again for the ride and giving John a chance to save his number. They banter back and forth for a while before John bids Justin a good night and falls asleep with his phone on his nightstand and a smile on his face.
When John wakes up the next day, he starts looking at his schedule to try and figure out when he could possibly casually drop in on another NXT show. He'd really enjoyed what he'd seen, and it was always nice to be able to see some of the other pros outside of Raw. And if Gabriel was still there and they just happened to run into each other, well, that was okay too.
Opportunity comes a month later, late into the season. Gabriel is (almost unsurprisingly, John thinks, having been keeping up with the season like an addict.) still there. Tonight, he's in a match against Wade Barrett. The Englishman is large, but Gabriel's fast, and his high flying moves are no match for the bigger man. Gabriel wins with his 450 Splash and John can't help but jump up and cheer, hoping no one recognizes him in his hoodie and hat. The younger has a jubilant expression on his face, and John couldn't be more happy for him.
Then, Jericho enters the ring agains and throws Matt out. John barely restrains himself from jumping the barrier and kicking the Canadian's ass, especially once he takes hold of Gabriel, put him swiftly into a submission. Cena watches, outraged, as Gabriel taps...and taps...and taps...and finally Jericho releases him. Then Chris is holding up Barrett's arm in victory and John bites his lip. He already has an idea of how to deal with this.
III
John thinks he catches Chris mid-jump when he slams open the locker room door. He fixes his gazes on the Canadian and narrows his eyes.
"Hey, John." the nervous blond tries, throwing John an almost innocent smile.
John's not one to be trifled with, however, and he descends on Jericho with a fiery passion in his eyes, backing the older man up until his back slams against the lockers. John slams an arm over Jericho's head, as if to concrete the situation.
"Don't touch him again. Do you understand me?" John asks, glaring harder than he knows he has in a long time.
"I don't know what you're talking about." Jericho tries, avoding John's gaze.
John growls and grabs Chris by the chin, yanking his face back to meet John's own.
"Now Chris," John starts, deadly serious. "You know damn well what I'm talking about. You lay another hand on Justin Gabriel, and so help me God, I'll-"
The locker room door opens again, and they both turn to face whoever the newcomer is. Of course, it's Justin. John glares at Jericho one more time before releasing him, turning to smile at Justin. He shakes the young rookie's hand and pulls him into a one armed hug.
"Great match, man!" John exclaims. "I'm impressed."
John couls almost swear Justin blushes as he responds. The younger shifts his gaze between Cena and Jericho almost suspiciously before he answers.
"Thanks. I didn't even know you were here!" Justin says happily, smiling brightly at John.
It's John's turn to blush, and he opens his arms for a real hug, which Justin accepts graciously, pulling John closer as he hugs the older tightly.
"No one did, really." John answers into Justin's neck.
They separate reluctantly. Justin's still beaming, which keeps John smiling despite himself.
"I'm glad you're here, though." Justin says shyly, so quiet John thinks Jericho didn't even hear him, thank God.
"For sure." John answers.
Justin grabs his shirt out of his locker and starts to change. John clears his throat.
"So, uh," he begins, his eyes shifting to glare at Chris. "Your car still out of comission?"
Justin lowers his gaze almost in shame, but John hardly notices because Chris is doing the same thing.
"Uhm. Yea." Justin responds, actual shame dripping into his voice like venom. "I took a cab tonight."
"Well then, would you allow me the honor of driving you back to your hotel?" John asks like a true gentleman, extending his hand to the now-dressed rookie.
Justin laughs, but takes the superstar's hand, standing up.
"Why yes, Mr. Cena," Justin responds with the same amount of fake grace. "I shall."
They both hold character for a few seconds before bursting into laughter, almost doubling over, but never disconnecting hands. Finally, they both settle and smile at one another before turning to exit the locker room. As they walk out the door, John shoots a warning glance over his shoulder at Jericho. He mouths the words "I will kick your ass." and then smiles, letting the door shut behind him.
They spend the walk to the car catching up on things, and when they reach the large vehicle, John bows and opens the door for the once again laughing rookie. They talk more as Justun directs him to what happens to be the same hotel John booked. The older grins as he pulls into the parking lot.
"Hey, I'm staying here, too! Want to come up to my room for a minute?" John suggests as they park.
Justin ducks his head and peers up at John from underneath his bangs, momentarily making John's thought processes stutter to a halt.
"That, uhm. That would be great." the younger stammers out.
John's suddenly overcome with nervousness as well. They walk in almost complete silence until they reach John's room. He opens the door and lets the younger in first, then follows, locking both locks behind him (he knows how his friends are. They will get keys made and come in anyway. He knows it.). He offers Justin a drink from the minibar, which the younger accepts with a light blush to his features. Once they're both settled with their rum and cokes, they begin talking. Three drinks in and everything really starts to come out, both of them feeling a little more lightheaded.
That's when Justin really starts to open up.
"This is all I've ever wanted to do, yknow?" he slurs out, and John smiles, barely containing his laugh as the younger tries to keep himself propped upright. "Like, ever since I was born and figured out what my dad did, I wanted to do it to."
"I get that. I really do." John replies, taking another swig of his own drink. "I mean, this was more of something that I stumbled into, but I can definitely see how someone could decide very young that it's something they really wanted. It's an awesome job, with an awesome company. I wouldn't trade it for anything."
Justin nods. They're both quiet for a beat. Justin takes another big gulp of his mix before he speaks again.
"John?" he begins softly.
"Yea, man?" John replies, turning towards Justin.
"What happens if I don't win NXT?" Justin asks nervously.
John rolls the question around in his head for a moment. What will happen? Will there be another way for Justin to get a contract? Will he just be left without a job completely, forced to start over from scratch? Either way, will they be able to remain in contact? What if they never see each other again? The thought makes John's chest ache. He answers hesitantly.
"I, uh. I don't know, J." John answers sincerely. "I'd like to think you'd still be able to get a contract easily enough."
Justin nods, his gaze turning to the amber liquid in his glass. "But what if I'd have to do something that I didn't really agree with in order to get the contract? Should I still do it, or work for another one?"
John stares at the younger suspiciously. What in the hell is he talking about?
"I-I mean, I've heard of that happening before. Like, having to compromise your morals or your individuality for a contract. And stuff. " the South African stammers. John nods skeptically. "Having to be something you're not."
"Well, if it's something you can't stand behind, I'd say don't do it. Other opportunities will come along, and if they don't, then it's not something that's meant to be to begin with." the Superstar explains.
The rookie takes another large drink. "I wish it was that simple..." he mutters into his glass. John pretends not to hear it.
"Hey, either way," he begins, reaching over and resting a hand on Justin's shoulder, rubbing it ever so slightly. "Don't lose my number. Win or lose, I'd like to imagine we'll still be friends. Never be afraid to call, okay?"
The rookie offers up as bright a smile as he seems to be able to manage, downing the rest of his drink and setting his glass to the side.
"Well. I have an early start tomorrow. Gotta be ready." Justin says, standing.
John almost jumps to his feet as well, then immediately has to steady himself. "At least let me walk you to your room."
The younger man seems wary, but finally nods. They walk in complete silence, arms brushing every once in a while, but beyond that, no contact at all. Finally, they reach Justin's door. John gnaws on the inside of his lower lip. The last thing he wants right now is for Justin to just wander back into his room. He turns the high flyer around and backs him up against the door casually.
"So, it was great seeing you tonight." John says, smiling.
Justin nods his affirmation. "For sure. Next time, let me know in advance and we'll hang out more, okay?"
Cena barely contains his excitement. "Definitely."
The older tilts his head down and locks eyes with the South African. His breath catches, his heart seemingly skipping a beat, and the next thing he knows, John's leaning down closer to the young high flyer. He stops barely a breath from the other's lips and they just stand there, breathing each other's air for just a moment longer than they should. Then John's tipping his head upwords and placing a tender kiss on Justin's forehead. The younger hugs him tightly before releasing him and whispering a good night, ducking into his room and shutting the door behind him. As John walks silently back to his own room, he can't help but wonder what in the hell just happened.
III
The next text doesn't come until a couple weeks later, not until after John has watched Justin lose NXT to Wade Barrett, the fucking cartoon character, and how was he even supposed to compete with that anyway? Barrett looked like an evil cartoon supervillian; of course he was going to be a it does come, however, it's just one phrase:
I think I'm doing something stupid.
John perks up when he sees who the message is from, but frowns once he reads its content. He'd been worried when he hadn't heard back from the younger, despite sending him consolation texts, that maybe Justin didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore since the finale. That thought hurts more than John's willing to admit. He asks what Justin means, but the younger never responds. John falls asleep with the phone right next to his pillow.
III
Looking back, John thinks he really shouldn't be shocked that the next time he lays eyes on the South African, it's when the younger is destroying the ring and wreaking havoc on Monday Night Raw with the rest of the Nexus. He knew the stunt was going to happen, knew he had been selected particularly because of his own abilities, but had never been informed as to just who would be involved. He'd trained for it, but with stand-ins, so as to keep it a big surprise. He'd been curious when someone had prepared him for a 450 Splash, but no one had ever given him a straight answer as to who he'd receive the actual one from, so he'd pushed the thought from his head. So, he thinks he shouldn't be shocked that Gabriel's a part of this group, but for some reason, he still is. This is evidentially going to be a heel group; Justin's not a heel.
Could this have been what he meant that night...? the Superstar thinks, but immediately has to return his focus to the ring on the off chance these rookies don't know what in the fuck they're doing. The last thing he needs is to get seriously injured if one of them misses their cue. Or for Justin to get hurt...
John goes through the motions, puts on a flawless performance despite the lack of talent of some of the rookies, and barely resists the urge to kick the shit out of Daniel Bryan when the young man spits in his face. John holds back, figuring he'll catch the little asshole later. He almost has to physically restrain himself from holding Justin in place and asking him what the fuck is going on after the younger's 450. It's been too long since he's seen the younger; the mere scent of him is making John dizzy, especially when Justin lingers just a moment too long afterward, just staring at him. John mentally wills the younger to get up before he breaks character, and finally, Justin stands, moving away from him.
Once the rookies have left and John's been carried away and backstage, the Superstar tears off through the building, determined to find Justin. It's with great shock that he happens upon the younger hanging out nervously by John's own bags.
"Surprise?" Justin says nervously.
John momentarily forgets everything he'd been about to say and just stops, studies Justin from head to toe. Then, the younger breaks out into a smile, and John can't even help it, he's grinning, too. He steps forward and pulls Justin into a tight hug that he feels the high flyer return, sagging with relief.
"What are you even doing here?" John breathes into Justin's hair. He takes a step back and just looks at the boy once more.
"Some people came and talked to us toward the end of the season about this storyline idea. They said we'd all shown exceptional talent in the ring throughout the season and they wanted to give us a chance to really prove ourselves. They offered all of us a part, and said that they'd decide later who stayed and who didn't, but that this was a really great opportunity. Of course, whoever won would be leader." Justin explains. He kind of hangs his head, flicking his eyes back up to look at John through his bangs. John swallows thickly at the intensity of the younger's stare. "This was my only chance. I had to take it."
They both jump and turn towards the door when it swings open and they're greeted with loud laughter. John relaxes and smiles widely when he realizes it's just John Morrison and R Truth. Morrison stops first, grinning as he looks over John and Gabriel.
"Well, well, well, what have we here? Could it be?" Morrison asks. "Is this Justin Gabriel, the infamous rookie John hasn't been able to stop talking about?"
Morrison claps a hand onto Justin's shoulder. The South African shoots Cena a curious expression.
"What?" Gabriel inquires.
Cena shoves Morrison lightly, blushing a bit even as he laughs. "Shut up, man. It's not like that."
"Oh it's not, huh?" Ron pipes up. Cena shoots him a playful glare. "So you mean you haven't been constantly raving about how talented he is?"
"How funny he is?" Morrison adds, nudging Ron with his elbow and grinning at his companion.
"How smart he is?" Ron continues, gesturing with his hand and looking at Cena meaningfully.
"How amazing he is?" the both finish together before breaking off into laughter.
Now there's no denying the blush on Cena's face. Justin laughs along.
"Guys, seriously? Knock it off!" Cena growls, getting more embarassed by the second. He hadn't been that bad, had he? Had he really been that obvious?
"We're just messing with you, man." Ron says, patting John's shoulder. "Seriously though, he has told everyone how awesome you are in the ring."
"And after tonight, I'd have to say I think I agree with him." Morrison adds. "I mean, we didn't get to see too much, but what I saw was definitely good. I'm looking forward to seeing more."
It's Justin's turn to blush now, and John grins. He can't help but think about how good it looks.
"Really?" Gabriel asks like he doesn't believe them, like they're just complimenting him for John's sake.
"Definitely, dude." Truth says. "You seem like you've got a lot of potential."
"Thanks. You don't know how much that means." Justin says, peering up through his bangs again.
They all stop, just looking at the intensity in the younger's eyes for a moment. Morrison shakes out of it first, his voice bringing the other two back as well.
"I think we have an idea." Morrison says with a smile, placing a caring hand on Gabriel's shoulder. "We've all been there, man. Just hang in there. It gets better."
Justin nods enthusiastically. "Definitely."
"We'll, uh, leave you guys to it, then." Ron says, walking away.
"See you around!" Morrison calls, waving.
The other two turn and wave as well as they disappear back further into the locker room. Once they're alone, John turns back to Justin with a smile.
"So, uh," he begin's rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "That was kinda awkward."
Justin grins at him and John's breath hitches for a second.
"You've been talking about me?" the younger asks.
"Maybe a little bit." John replies nervously.
"That's awesome." Justin says, practically beaming. "Really. Thank you."
"It's no big deal, man. I just like what I see." Cena says, then realizes how it sounds. He bites his tongue, but doesn't take it back. "What can I say? I'm impressed."
Justin bites at his lower lip. John wants to do it too. He looks away.
"Thank you, John. You really didn't have to." the high flyer says sheepishly.
"Yea, well." John replies. "Hey, so. I was just wondering, if you're not doing anything tonight...would you like to, ah, join me for dinner?"
Justin looks at him in shock, but nods. John grins.
"That would be great, actually." the South African replies.
"Terrific!" John exclaims, then forces himself to calm down immediately. "Just, uh, let me get dressed real quick and I'll meet you out back."
"Oh! Right. I'll just go so you can do that." Justin says, turning almost reluctantly to go.
"Alright. I'll see you in a minute." Cena says.
"See you." Justin replies, casting one last smiling glance over his shoulder.
After the door shuts behind him, John lets out a sigh and slumps forward a bit, leaning on the lockers.
I'm doomed. he thinks.
III
When John gets out back to meet Justin, the first thing he hears is Wade Barrett's voice.
"...do you understand me?" the English accent drifts over to John's ears.
"What I understand is that you need to back off." he hears Justin growl.
John speeds up and rounds the corner with concern. He sees Justin leaning against his own rental, Barrett looming over him. They're both glaring like they're about to fight, however.
"What's going on here?" John asks, nearing them. Neither one breaks their stare.
"Nothing tha' concerns you, Cena. Now, run along." Barrett says condescendingly.
Justin's eyes narrow more.
"Excuse me?" John asks, looking at Barrett with a mix of anger and shock. How dare this asshole talk to him like that.
"You heard me. Get ou' of 'ere and leave us to our business." Barrett snaps, finally turning to look at the Superstar.
"Well, you see, Wade, I happen to have plans with Justin here, and right now, you're kind of hanging around my truck, so it looks like you're shit outta luck." John says, pushing Wade out of the way.
He hits the keypad and unlocks the doors, opening the passenger door for Justin. The younger climbs into the car with a look of almost shock on his face. John takes both their bags and closes Justin's door before opening the back passenger door and throwing them in. He turns and shoots Barrett a cocky smile.
"Now, if you'll excuse us." he says.
He circles the truck and climbs into the driver's seat, shutting his door and locking it even as he starts the truck. Barrett's screaming something after them as they back out and exit the parking lot, but neither one is even paying attention.
"Thanks." Justin mutters a little ways down the road.
"No problem. Screw that asshole." John replies.
They settle into an easy conversation from there until they reach the restaurant. Unbeknownst to Justin, John has pulled up outside of one of the nicest restaurants in town. He'd passed it on the way from the hotel earlier and had called to ask about it as he'd gotten dressed, hurriedly and almost guiltily name-dropping to make last minute reservations. It seemed like a perfect idea. As John helps the rookie out of the truck, the younger stares at the building in shock.
"Wow." he whispers in awe.
"Nice, right? Come on." John says excitedly, leading him in.
They're seated per John's request at a table at the very back of the restaurant, completely secluded from everyone else. Turns out, it was a fantastic idea. The drinks are wonderful, the food is even better, and the conversation stays interesting the whole time. It's not until after they've shared a dessert that Justin asks about things.
"So, uh. Please don't think I'm a freak if I'm wrong, but..." Justin looks like he's about to second guess himself, and then it just comes out. "Is this a date?"
"That depends. Do you want it to be?" John answers honestly.
He has no idea what's gotten into him. He's never liked a guy before in his life, but Justin's had his head spinning for weeks. Now he finds himself crossing his fingers that Justin will say yes. Unfortunately, the younger hesitates.
"I'm not sure, to be honest." Justin answers quietly. "Don't get me wrong, it's not like I don't like you. I just...there's so much going on right now. The last thing I need is to take my focus off what I'm doing. And lord knows what kind of hell I'd get."
John nods. He gets that. He doesn't want to be a distraction for the younger, especially not right now.
"But at the same time...I really, really like you, John. And I know you'd be good to me. I just...I don't know." Justin sighs. "Can I have some time to think about it?"
John smiles, reaching across the table to rest a hand on Justin's.
"Of course. I don't want to push anything on you." he answers honestly, despite the slight sinking feeling he has deep in his stomach. "Take all the time you need."
"Alright." the younger answers. When he smiles, John knows he said the right thing. "I still want to hang out, though."
"Well, yea." the Superstar responds, returning the boy's smile. "What, did you really think you were gonna get rid of me that easily?"
They both laugh, and sink back into the easy conversation from before. John still pays the tab, and when they're driving back to the hotel, Justin reaches across discreetly and grabs John's hand where it rests on the console. John smiles softly. They pull up outside the hotel and John hops out of the car to help Justin out. The younger grabs his bag from the backseat and hefts it onto his shoulder.
"I had a really great time tonight." Justin says quietly, a nervous grin on his face.
"I did too. Honestly." John responds, smiling as well.
They look away, both turning towards the ground. Suddenly, John hears Justin's bag hit the ground, and the next thing he knows, his back slams against the truck and there's soft lips on his own. His arms jerk up to grab Justin's own, kissing back. He groans at Justin's dominance, feeling the younger nip at his upper lip before tracing his tongue through John's mouth again. Finally, the high flyer pulls back, licking his lips with a smile.
"I'll think about what you said. I promise." Justin says, picking his bag back up and turning, walking towards the hotel room door. "Good night, John."
John waves, but stands leaning against the truck still even after he's watched the younger walk into the room. He's grinning like a schoolgirl, tracing his lips with a finger carefully. As he gets into the truck and pulls away to drive back to his own hotel, he finds himself looking forward to seeing Justin again more than he has anyone in a while.
XXXXX
Justin is practically skipping, he's so happy. He hums as he wanders around the room, putting his bag down before throwing himself onto his back on the bed. He feels like he's walking on air. He can't believe John Cena is actually genuinely interested in him. It's like he's dreaming, like at any moment he's going to wake up and be back in England training every day until he can hardly breathe and still only wishing that one day, maybe, he'd make a name for himself in the WWE. He can hardly believe it's real. Suddenly, his phone beeps. He slides it open to find a text from John.
Good night, beautiful. Sleep well. Thinking of your smile.
A moment later, the phone beeps again. This time, it's a picture of John's smiling face in his own hotel room. Justin can't even help it. He beams. When he falls asleep, he does so with his phone in his hand and the same smile on his face.
III
Over the next few weeks, Justin and John are around each other constantly. When they're not together, they're texting each other or calling each other or sending pictures. They don't talk anymore about being together, though, and aside from being flirtatious every now and again, they don't even let on how they feel. However, out of sight isn't always out of mind, especially in this case, because the offer is on Justin's mind all the time. He almost wonders if it's not more distracting thinking about being in a relationship than an actual relationship would be. But before he has a chance to ponder it too much, someone's calling his name and he has to go do promo, or run lines, or get a script, or get on a bus, or practice a match or whatever and he doesn't have time to even breathe for ten more hours.
Thankfully, John's right there with him almost all the way. They're onscreen together all the time, so they have to work together just as often. As much as it sucks having to try and play some asshole on TV, as well as in front of thousands of booing fans every night, especially to John, he enjoys being in the ring and being around Cena.
Unfortunately, not everyone seems to enjoy him being there. It's no great secret that for the most part, the entire Nexus gets shit on in the locker room. Some people, like Edge and Jericho don't give a shit who he's friends with. Continually, they return to the locker room to find their things trashed or missing, their clothes mysteriously disappear from outside the shower, they get cornered individually and talked to like they're trash, or sometimes they just get hurt. John's furious, of course, but really, what can he even do about it? Justin just tries to hold his head up and take things in stride.
And then Evan Bourne gets hurt. Barrett talks loudly about it in the locker room as if it's a warning to everyone else to stop fucking with them. Justin gets a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach and begins to really question what he's doing for the first time.
"What, you think he did it on purpose?" John asks when Justin brings it up.
"I'm really not sure, to be honest. I mean, he's talking like he did, or like a couple of them did, but do you really think they have the balls for all that?" Justin returns.
They're sitting on the edge of the practice ring in the gym, passing a bottle of water back and forth. They've been working on falls and submissions for the last few hours, just to get away from everyone else for a little bit. Now, they're taking a break before they start working on everything for Money in the Bank.
"I don't know. You know him better than I do. Does he have the balls for all that?" John asks, taking the bottle back and taking a long drink.
"I don't know. Either way, Evan's hurt and it's our fault." Justin sighs.
"Their fault. Not your fault." John responds confidently. "I know you. I practice with you. You know your moves. If anyone hurt him, it wasn't you. It was someone who didn't know what the hell the were doing."
John stands and offers his hand to Justin to help him up as well.
"Or did it on purpose." Justin adds.
"Or did it on purpose." the older agrees. "And if they did, we'll find out and it won't happen again."
The high flyer nods, hoping John's right.
"Alright now, you ready to work on that fall?" John asks.
"Do we have to?" the younger replies nervously.
They're set to do a scene at the top of the cage during John and Sheamus' cage match at Money in the Bank involving Justin getting thrown from the top of the cage. The younger is scared shitless. John's told Justin that he thinks it's a testament to his talent that they're even having him do a move like this. Justin agrees, but that doesn't do anything to ease his nerves in the slightest.
"Hey, don't be scared. Seriously." John says, stopping Justin and holding him by the upper arms. He looks into Justin's eyes to concrete his point. "The more nervous you are, the better chance you have at getting hurt. If you're relaxed and confident, you'll land it no problem."
Justin nods, trying to shake the doubt from his mind. He can do this!
...he thinks.
III
Money in the Bank finally arrives. Justin's been talking himself up all day in his head, trying to make sure he's as confident as he possibly can be. Finally, the moment is upon them. Justin rushes out with the rest of the Nexus, invading the match as planned. He sees John climbing to the top of the cage, his cue, and rushes over, scaling the chain link quickly. As they fake a few punches, his heart's in his ears. He knows he's supposed to swing over his leg, but he's frozen. John reaches out and rests a hand on his leg, pulling it over, and suddenly everything clears up.
"You've got this. You ready?" John asks quickly.
"Do it." Justin answers just as fast and then he's in the air.
The second he hits the mat, he feels the wind rush out of him. At first, he thinks, I landed wrong, but then the air is coming back and he realizes he's not hurt anywhere. He stills, listening to the crowd and the match going on around him. He can't believe he pulled it off. He wants to jump up and cheer for himself, but he knows he can't, so instead, he just lays completely still until the match is over. He listens to John scream and is instantly glad his part's already over, because he's pretty sure it would scare him shitless to have that aimed at him.
Finally, everything's over and Justin gets up, walking back to the locker room. He's still riding on his post-show high when he reaches his locker, pulling his bag out. When he sees his shirt, however, his face falls. Scrawled all across one of his favorite white shirts, in ugly black print, reads,
JUSTIN GABRIEL IS A PUSSY.
Justin's eyes instantly fill with frustrated tears. Why him? Why the fuck does it always have to be him? All he's trying to do is live out his dream, just like the rest of them. What the hell is so wrong with that? He squeezes the shirt tight in his hands and shakes, gritting his teeth to keep from screaming. His hand flies out, fist slamming into the locker door hard. He hisses and drops the shirt onto the bench, cradling his hand close.
It's not fair. He's not a pussy. He knows that. In fact, he's one of the most talented up-and-comer's the WWE has seen in a while. He knows that, too. What he doesn't know is who detests him this much to keep singling him out like this. Well, whatever, Justin thinks. He's done. Spreading the shirt out evenly on the bench, he snatches up the marker that whoever left on the floor. Carefully, he writes one word, almost bigger, definitely bolder, than the rest. When he's done, he narrows his eyes, pulling the shirt over his head. He grabs his things and turns to exit the locker room. As he passes the mirror, he turns and meets his own eyes, standing up a little taller. He smiles widely, then leaves.
JUSTIN GABRIEL IS NOT A PUSSY.
III
Justin knocks on the door to the private locker room John had been granted and enters when John beckons him forth. He shuts the door behind him, setting his bag down on the ground, walking over to where John sits, tying up his shoes. John looks up at him with a smile, and Justin watches it fall when he notices the younger's shirt.
"Whoa, what the fuck? What happened?" John asks. His eyes fall on Justin's swollen hand. "And what the hell did you do to your hand?"
"I hit a locker. It's no big deal." Justin replies, cradling his fist again and looking down at it.
"It is a big deal. Who did this?" John demands.
"I have no idea. It's not like it's the first time someone's trashed my shit." Justin explains.
John sighs. "You still shouldn't have to deal with that. It's bullshit."
"It's whatever." the younger says.
"It's not fair." the Superstar replies.
"No, it's not fair," the high flyer nearly snaps, "But what are you gonna do about it? Nothing's worked so far. I've just got to tough it out."
They're silent for a moment, neither looking at the other. John clears his throat.
"Let me see your hand." he says.
Justin extends it and John takes hold of it carefully, looking it over. "Well, it doesn't look broken. And I'd know. I've definitely broken mine more than a few times the same way. It is gonna hurt for a few days, though."
Justin nods. John, still not meeting his eyes, brings the hand up to his lips, pressing them to the hand tenderly. The younger blushes. His head is spinning again. He's suddenly thinking about the last few months, from the moment he formally met John on. He thinks once again about John's offer, and their kiss, and the not-date. He thinks about how much he enjoys being around John and how well they get along. He thinks about how when he's not talking to the older, that's all he wants to be doing. He thinks about how, since the day they met, he hasn't been able to get John out of his head even for a moment. Then, he thinks of his shirt. The decision has basically been made for him.
Justin Gabriel is NOT a pussy. he thinks.
Suddenly, he reaches up and takes John's face in his hand. He takes a deep breath and seals their lips together. He tugs on John's lower lip with his teeth. When he feels John gasp, he runs his tongue delicately along the older's teeth, then moves on to explore more of his mouth. John backs him up against the wall and slides a hand under his shirt. Justin's still in control of the kiss, however. He feels John's bulge in his jeans and he tilts his hips up a bit, grinding against the older. John moans into the kiss again and pulls back, looking deeply into Justin's eyes.
"Is that a yes?" he asks.
"That is most definitely a yes." Justin replies. "I want this. All of it. I don't care how distracting it is."
John practically beams, pulling Justin close. Justin presses a kiss to the Superstar's shoulder, feeling him rubbing his hands across Justin's back tenderly.
"You have no idea how happy I am right now." John says into his hair.
"Pretty sure I do." Justin replies, leaning back to look at John again.
"I have wanted you for so long. I don't know what it is about you. You've taken over my every thought process." John mutters, hugging him a little tighter.
Justin colors. He had no idea. John pulls back and looks his face over again, smiling softly before he leans in and presses their lips together in a tender kiss once more. Justin sighs happily into it and thinks to himself, Maybe things are looking up after all.