The glistening ray of sunlight intruding through the paper thin hotel blinds put a permanent end to the little amount of restless sleep John managed to get. It had been like this for a few days now. No matter how hard he tried or how tired he was, he just couldn't get to sleep. He had noticed that things began to...change recently, as if he had been completely blind to everything that had happened over the past 12 years. As much as he just wanted to let it go, to say everything, (even just for a good nights sleep), he knew he couldn't. John knew that he'd just have to suffer with the shitty nights and groggy days until he plucked up enough courage to speak up. He would of been lying to himself if he said, at this point, that the day where that happens would be coming anytime soon. He didn't want to risk it. He didn't want to risk...everything...just so he could get some sleep. Sleep wouldn't be worth the internal torment he would go through if he got any sort of bad reaction. It was all he had. No partner, no kids, nothing. John would do anything it takes to hold on to this for as long as he possibly could, because he knew he would be nothing without 'it'.

After lying with his hand clasped and eyes focused on the ceiling for what felt like forever, John sat up; defeated by this own mind. Slowly, he stretched out his still clasped hands and moved the crinkled bed sheets down from his chest and propped himself up in his bed. The room was now silent with the exception of a small sigh being let out by John, and the light breathing of the man who lay uncomfortably on a small sofa just a few feet away. Randy had insisted that John take the bed after his reservations had gotten lost the night before, and he was in quite a lot of pain after a funny landing in his match that night. What was admittedly an incredibly nice gesture on Randy's part was only met with a fake smile and an awkward smile in return. John felt bad about this, but he would once again be lying to himself if he had said that he would rather be anywhere else. He'd been trying to, reluctantly, avoid Randy for a while. Thinking about this made John cringe a little, scrunching up his face. What kind of friend was he? Trying to avoid the one constant he'd actually had in his life. Truth be told, he'd began noticing the change a few weeks ago. Normal friendly things like a pat on the shoulder or a quick hug suddenly became cherished in John's mind. Suddenly, he couldn't get enough of them. He...craved...Randy's touch.

'I've probably just been alone for too long'... John would repeat to himself, trying to write off these feelings as desperation. He knew that was a lie, but he constantly tried to convince himself otherwise. Not for his sanity, but for what it would do to the relationship that they had already. Randy was John's lifeline. His one trustworthy port of call for anything that might have been troubling him. Sometimes, even just his presence would make John feel safe; feel comfortable...feel happy. Happiness had been lost for John for a while now. Sure, he loved his job and was the happiest anybody could be while at work, but that was different. His last relationship was three years ago and that only lasted a few months. He felt hopeless. He must be a terrible person, otherwise he would have somebody, right? These self deprecating thoughts ran rampant in John's mind when he wasn't at work. But, he knew he'd be in for a rough few days after the roster had been given a few days off before the show last night. John didn't feel like flying home just to be alone, and with Randy's relationship seemingly in ruins, he opted to stay in Florida with John for their few days off before they had to fly to Baltimore for Raw the following Monday. Not only did he feel awful for effectively relegating Randy to the sofa in his own room, but he'd taken him away from his family.

'I'm a piece of shit...' John muttered almost inaudibly to himself before braking his gaze that had been fixated on the wall opposite him, laying his head back onto the headboard and sighing. Sitting up, but slightly hunched over, he brought his hands up to his face and buried his features into them, rubbing his face a couple of times before letting out a small sigh and looking over to his right.

Randy was laying in what looked like an incredibly cramped position on the small sofa that sat about eight feet away from the bed. A sofa only big enough to fit two sitting people, Randy was a mess of blankets and cushions, as during the night previous, he gathered anything he could in order to make his sleep somewhat comfortable. His left arm was folded across his face while his other arm lay crushed underneath his chiseled abdomen. One leg brought up to his waistline and one stretched out over the edge of the arm-rest, John knew Randy would be aching when he got up.

John's focus turned to his left where he saw both their phones and a bottle of water lie on the bedside table. He'd only inverted his gaze in that direction because he saw a flash of light come from Randy's phone. Not wanting to intrude too much, but still feeling a heightened sense of curiosity, he picked up his phone and swiped down the notifications bar to be met with a flurry of capital letters and curse words. He knew exactly who they where from, and while he didn't take the time to read them, he knew exactly why they had been sent. Randy was here with John and not with them. John but the phone down and sighed once more before hearing an uncomfortable groan come from his side. Turning his head back around he saw Randy trying to stretch what was left in the life of his muscles as he began to fidget around, trying to cling on to the few precious seconds of semi consciousness he had left before reality returned. John couldn't help but smile when he saw Randy ruffle his short head of bed-hair in an attempt to wake himself up. As quickly as this smile appeared, it vanished. He looked away as the guilt began flooding back. It was his fault Randy would be aching for the rest of the day, and it was his fault he has received that angry text message from Sam.

Once again lost in his thoughts, John failed to notice Randy sit himself up in a semi-comfortable position, before rubbing his eyes and looking over to John; sat propped up by a pillow and gazing into what seemed to be a pit of despair.

"Morning champ." Randy said, his voice still groggy from his sleep. John's eyebrows twitched and he immediately looked over towards Randy, who shot him a small smile before stretching once again and slowly rolling his neck a few times. John returned the smile, but even in a state of semi-sleep, Randy knew that the look in Johns eyes meant that the smile wasn't as genuine as John wanted him to believe.

"What's up?" Randy asked, not wanting to seem to demanding, yet quite serious in his tone.

John sighed, trying to create the illusion that he was opening up his thoughts so Randy wouldn't ask any awkward questions.

"I just feel guilty. You really should of taken the bed." John said. While his voice was full of scenecrity, he still felt like Randy has noticed something else because of the pouted lips that has formed on Randy's face.

"No way. It's absolutley fine, I've slept much worse." Randy said with the grogginess slowly leaving his system. His final words followed by a a couple of amused breaths before he began to speak again.

"How's your ribs?"

With everything he had been thinking about in the few short minutes that he had been awake, John completely forgot about what happened to his ribs. John lifted his shirt to reveal a large blotch of battered skin as a result of landing awkwardly whilst going through a table. Randy stood up and apporached John, holding his hand out and running a soft touch along Johns bruised side. John winced at his touch involinatrialy, but he didn't want him to stop. A warm rush of...something shivered through Johns body the second Randys hand had been laid upon it. His soft hand providing a gentle and comforting touch as his nose scrunced; his eyes filled with worry. The pale tone of Johns skin meeting with Randy's tanned flesh providing a wonderful colour comparison as Randy removed his hand, shook his head an sighed.

"I tell ya, they should make going through tables illegal." Randy said, softly. John chuckled in response before Randy grabbed a small wash bag and walked towrds the bathroom, wearing only an old t-shirt and boxer breifs. After a quick stop off at his suitcase to grab some clothes, Randy entered the bathroom and left the door open slightly behind him. John knew Randy wouldn't be comfortable doing that around anybody else but him. He had heard stories about how Randy would pretty much barricade the bathroom door whenever he was showering. John origionally felt like it was a gesture of trust, however he had been led to believe by himself that it was simply something Randy did in case John needed hm for anything, further punishing John into believing that he was an awful, needy friend. These thoughts were broken as he heard Randy shout from the bathroom, his voice muffled by the sounds of the shower running.

"What's the time?"

"8:35", John responded, looking at the time on his phone as he saw that another text had come through from Sam for Randy. Sighing, John put down both phones and pulled himself out of bed. While streching out any cramps he had, he saw Randys head pop out of the bathroom door, toothbrush still in his mouth. Randy began to speak before sighing quietly and removing the toothbrush and continuing.

"Any messages?"

John felt guilt overcome him again as he nodded and went to pass Randy his phone.

"Yeah, a couple. Looks like they're from Sam." John said, trying to hide the fact that his curiousity had led him to check who both messages where from. Randy stopped almost still for about a second before letting out a puff of air and nodding in thanks as John handed him his phone. Retreating back into the bathroom, he heard the shower go off and Randy's hands typing rapidly onto his phone screen. John listened absentmindedly as he gathered together his clothes for the day from his suitcase, before something caught his eye.

John slowly stepped towards the suitcase neighbouring his own as he noticed an old baseball cap peaking out from under Randys clothes. Recognising the colours, he slowly pulled it out to reveal that it was the cap John has given to Randy about 10 years previous. Vivid memoriesplayed through John's mind of him handing the cap over to Randy, who was feeling the effects of the sun during a tour to Austrialia.

Why would he keep this? The question echoed through John's mind before it was interuppted by a peicercing scream intruding his ears from the bathroom. Knowing that it was Sam, John let out a small sigh before he buried the cap back under Randys clothes and laid out his own onto the bed. With the shower turned off, the room was filled with only the voices of Randy and Sam talking over the phone. Randy keeping a suprisingly calm demeinour while Sam screeched as if the apocolypse has cme to St Louis. After a few minutes of just the sound of Sam's voice, John heard Randy let out a defeated sigh before muttering a few words and hanging up. After a few seconds of tense silence, he heard another heavy sigh come from the bathroom before Randy poked his head out once again along with his arm, holding the phone. No words were exchanged as John knew what Randy wanted him to do. A small nod was Randy's repsonce to John taking the phone from his hand and placing it back onto the bedside table. The sound of the shower returned as John sat of the sofa that Randy had been sleeping on just minutes prior. John checked through his phone, trying to do anything that would distract him from his own thoughts.

Eventually, the sound of the shower subsided, and Randy appeared from the bathroom half dressed, his short hair sticking up in different directions. Sitting on the edge of the bed, Randy buried his face in his hands and took a deep breath before lifting his head. John approached slowly and sat beside him, laying a comforting hand onto Randy's shoulder. Finally, John might be able to help Randy instead of the roles being reversed and John being the one who needs the support. No words were exchanged for the half minute that they sat together. They didn't need to talk. That warm surge of comfort simmered throughout John's body once again. These only seemed to happen when they came into contact...

The silence of the room was destroyed by the blaring noise of John's ringtone. With the phone vibrating violently on the bedside table, John looked at Randy and shot him a crooked smile before standing up and walking over to his phone.

"Hello?"

"Hey John, it's Paul..."

...

A few minutes later John hung up the call and immeditaly walked over to get his jacket.

"Looks like I'm working today after all" John sighed, secretly pleased that he wouldn't be able to get himself into any awkward situations when he wasn't with Randy. John quickly grabbed his keycard and stopped at the door.

"You gonna be okay?"

"I'll be alright man. I'm gonna be here when you get back."

John shot Randy a friendly smile, which was returned with a sad smile from Randy before John left. The door closed and the room was silent once again; leaving Randy alone with his troubles. The sound of a deep sigh filled the room as Randy rubbed his face a couple of times before standing up and throwing on a t-shirt. He didn't want to be alone, he wanted to be with John. Sat alone in the hotel room, he had no idea that no matter how much he may convince himself to feel differently, John felt exactly the same way.