Title: Tired (1/1)

Rating: 12 for swearing

Content: fluff, slash, swearing, mentions of sex

Disclaimer: don't own, don't sue

Summary: Cena is exhausted, Randy frets.

"Jesus fuck I wanna sleep for a week," John couldn't even be bothered to shower, all he wanted to do was get back to the hotel, fall onto the bed and be out the moment his head hit the pillow.

"You OK?" Randy took a cautious look around, and seeing there were no fans around in the parking lot, grabbed John's bags from him and threw them into the trunk of the car. John leaned back against the side of the car, wincing slightly - a look that Randy caught. He frowned and shook his head. "Come on Super Cena, get in the car." When John didn't move Randy walked around to the passenger side of the car and opened the door for him. "John, you OK?"

"Gentleman ain't ya," John forced a grin and pushed himself off the side of the car slowly, more or less falling into the passenger seat. Randy slammed the door shut behind him and got ready to drive off. It had been a bad night in more ways than one and he for one would be more than happy to get the hell out of there and not come back in a long time.

On the drive back, Randy's eyes kept flicking over to Cena, who seemed to have fallen asleep right there. In slumber he'd lost the anger and fury from his face, and there was a small smile touching his lips. In both fury and peace, the man was gorgeous. But Randy was worried, his lover really did think he was superman so to see him so exhausted was something new and not in a good way.

They pulled into the underground parking lot at the hotel and parked up, Randy grateful that they would be able to avoid the ever present hordes of fans at the front entrance. "John, we're back."

John tried to stretch and groaned as his hands hit the roof of the car. Blinking, he looked over at Randy and nodded, "thanks for driving, man."

"No problem," Randy went to the trunk and picked up both of their bags. "Come on."

"I can carry my own bag."

"Yeah but I'm carrying it," Randy shrugged and locked the car, following John to the elevator. No smartass comment? No argument? John really must be tired.

"You sure you're alright?"

Randy's question was answered with a pillow thrown in his general direction. "Stop freaking asking me that."

"Well answer me then asshole,"

"Ortz, I just want to sleep for a month and forget today happened. I'm gonna take a shower."

"Want company?"

"I..." John looked down, embarrassed almost, "I really am exhausted."

That well and truly answered Randy's question. He forced a smile, "I'll just wash your back, honest." He got up off the bed and walked over to the older man, noting the slump in his shoulders and the way his eyes were looking at the floor, everywhere except at Randy himself. A finger under John's chin lifted his gaze to meet the stormy depths of Randy's eyes where he tried to convey how he felt to his lover.

"I'm sorry."

Surprise flashed across John's face. "What are you sorry for?"

"I should have noticed how tough things have been for you, I should have looked after you better." John was always doing little things to help Randy and he knew he didn't return the favour as often as he should. "Now how about I run a bath for you and then give you a massage?"

John grinned and pulled his lover close, "you don't have to but that would be nice. Just a massage though, yeah? As much as I love you I really am too tired for sex tonight."

"I promise, best behaviour."

It was a small thing but worry started to worm itself into Randy's brain. Did he put John under too much pressure? Did he demand sex all the time? Had John ever not wanted sex before but said yes because he thought it was what Randy wanted? By the time the bath had been run he'd worked himself into a good degree of self loathing.

John walked into the bathroom naked and as if he didn't have a care in the world. "Bath ready then?"

"Yeah, jump in." Randy stepped to one side, trying not to look at his lover's gorgeous naked body.

"You not joining me?" John eased himself into the soothing water and laid back, closing his eyes. "Why are you still dressed?"

"Do I pressure you for sex?" Randy's question was blunt and to the point, but he had to know. "I mean, you're so tired but we've still had sex every night this week, why didn't you say you were tired?"

"Ortz," John sighed, "stop worrying. I'm exhausted today, I think it's crept up on me, but I promise you, you've never pressured me into anything I didn't want to do." He sat up a little, "now come and wash my back like you promised."

"OK," he wasn't entirely convinced but let it go. Randy crouched down at the side of the bath and did as he was told. He would make it up to John, it not mattering how much Cena told him that he had nothing to make up for.

The massage he gave John afterwards was sensual and relaxing, his long talented fingers working all of the tension out of John's broad shoulders. It helped make Randy feel better knowing that he was doing something useful.

"I'm gonna let you sleep now."

John was in a world of blissful contentment and grunted in reply, he felt Randy pull the covers over him and barely managed to raise his head enough to watch the younger man strip off and return to the bed. He grunted again in disappointment as Randy left a little distance between them, his eyes still clouded with doubt.

"Come here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Randy did as he was asked, curling himself against John's side and resting his head on the pillow, placing a chaste kiss on John's cheek.

"I sleep better with you there," John forced his eyes open and smiled at his lover. "Night Randy."

That was a small reassurance to Randy, and it was enough. He returned the smile and contentedly nodded.

"Love you."