Title: Ice Cream
Summary: John and Randy play with water and share a sweet treat.
Rating: K
Pairing: Centon (Cena/Orton)
Disclaimer: What do you mean disclaimer?! I totally own them, and I SO get paid off of them, oh, and I OBVIOUSLY know that they do this in real life. Right. I also don't own ice cream.
A/N: So, this came to me when I was watering my plants, and the ice cream truck went by. Short, fluffay.
ONWARD!
Ice Cream
It was a normal Saturday in St. Louis. At the moment it was 75 degrees out, but John and Randy knew that it could drop to 50 within half an hour. Taking advantage of the weather to get tans without the lotion and tanning beds, and to clean up the outside of their house, the two men went outside in wifebeaters and gym shorts, armed with sponges and hoses. Randy mowed the lawn and watered the plants while John washed the excess pollen off of their cars, sneezing every now and then. Randy grumbled slightly as he watered John's garden, full of a mixture of marigold, morning glories that climbed up around the birdbath, zinnia that waved slightly in the warm breeze, and – John's favorite flower– tall, golden sunflowers that stretched high above the others and provided some shade on their thick, green lawn.
"John?" asked Randy, squeezing the nozzle ever so gently on the hose so that a fine mist of water coated the plants.
"Yeah?" John replied, glancing up from the soapy sponge that he'd just started to wipe his yellow Oldsmobile Cutlass Rallye with. That was John's favorite car; Randy had bought it for him three years ago as a surprise present when they'd moved in together as a couple.
"Why do you insist on having all these flowers? Don't get me wrong, they're pretty," Randy said quickly, noticing the slightly hurt look on John's face, "but, I thought you didn't want people knowing that we were, you know, together right now, and everyone on this street knows that only us live here, and people might start to think –"
John chuckled. "Randy, I didn't want people knowing it was the two of us here because we would get straight-up attacked by these rabid fan-chicks. Now everyone knows. I don't care what people think. In fact, it's kinda funny to see their faces when they put 2 and 2 together. Why? Do you not want the garden?"
"No, I like it. The flowers can stay, but I just didn't want you worrying about what a prejudiced neighbor would think," Randy laughed, smiling at his boyfriend.
John smiled back. Suddenly, he glanced up at the sky with rapt interest. "Hey, look at that!" he exclaimed, pointing up. Randy spun around, and searched the sky, trying to find what John was talking about. Out of nowhere, something cold, wet, and squishy hit his back. He let out a really girly yelp, and jumped and spun around. The yellow sponge lay on the grass in front of him, and John was doubled over in laughter. Randy smirked, and narrowed his eyes. John immediately stopped laughing when he caught the full spray of the hose in the stomach. He shot up, and glared at Randy across the lawn, his tanned shoulders shaking with stifled convulsions. A war of wet sponges, hoses, and buckets broke out, each man getting thoroughly soaked and laughing their butts off.
"Whoa, stop!" Randy cried, dropping the hose. The faint tune of the ice cream truck echoed up their street. John quickly grabbed two dollars from inside the house, and they waited at the end of their driveway like little kids. The ice cream lady cut off the music, and eyed the soaked, grass-stained, happy men warily, but she said nothing about it. Handing her the two bucks, John bought an Orange Dream bar, and Randy got the Jolly Rancher pop. Thanking her, they wandered back up to their house, and rested on the porch swing. Randy leaned over, and stole a lick of John's ice cream.
"Hey!" John cried indignantly, then stole a lick of Randy's. They continued this little game until there was no ice cream left. Sighing happily, John wove his fingers through Randy's and leaned against his shoulder, inhaling a delicious mixture of grass, flowers, spring breeze, ice cream, and his lover's unique smell. Randy leaned over and planted a small, still cold kiss on John's head. They gazed contentedly across their front yard, savoring the sweet taste that only love and ice cream can give.
-The end, please review! Or give me a cookie!