Hello there. This is a Candy one-shot. Randy/Cody is my favorite pairing and this idea was sticking with me for a while. So I couldn't help myself by writing this little piece. This story is written in Randy's POV. I feel a lot more comfortable writing this way, as I feel like the story becomes a lot more personal through one of the character's eyes. A big chunk of this story is written in italics. The part in italics is Randy reminiscing about his' and Cody's relationship. It'll make sense as you go along.
If any of you were readers of my multi-chapter story, A Turn For The Dangerous (also a Candy story), I'm sorry for the lack of updating. It has almost been a year since I updated it but I haven't felt inspired to write after that last chapter. I don't know why I have writers block when it comes to that story. For the time being, I don't know if I'll ever update it. Maybe, if inspiration hits me once more, I'll continue it but no promises.
If you enjoyed this one-shot, I'll appreciate it a ton if you left a review. Pretty please! They are day making and are so helpful. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy this story!
"I heard you got engaged..."
Those were words I never wanted to utter. Not to him. Ever. But as we stand alone in the locker room after everyone had left, I feel compelled to say something about this. It wasn't the kind of news I could just look past and ignore. Especially when we were confined in the same room.
I'm standing behind him as he neatly folds his belongings and places them in his bag. He's standing a few feet ahead, his back facing me. I can't read his face. But he freezes for a moment before resuming what he was doing.
"Yes. Indeed I did."
I wince. It's not like I needed confirmation. I knew it was true. It was everywhere. It wasn't a rumor, but a fact, a fact that enlaced me in its vices. But hearing it from his own mouth gave me validation I never wish I'd gotten.
"That… That's great. Congratulations."
"Thanks, Randy." He replies, without stopping his movement for a moment. "You'll get your invitation to the wedding in the mail. If you ever want to attend it."
"Yeah, like I'd want to attend your wedding…" I mumble to myself, half hoping he would hear me. And as it turns out, I get my wish.
He freezes completely. For the first time, he attempts eye contact and looks over his shoulder right at me. "Why wouldn't you wanna attend my wedding, Randy?"
He's testing me. The faintest of smirks adorns his face. He almost seems amused. He knows the answer to his own question. He just wants to hear it from me.
"I don't think I'll want to, Cody."
"Why not, Randy?"
What am I seriously gonna say? That I can't bear the thought of seeing him getting married? That I'd feel the need to smash and pummel anything or anyone if I were to witness that? That I can't see him forever commit to someone that wasn't me? I can't say that. I just can't, right? I don't have the right to. Not now. Not when he's happily engaged. Not when it's too late for these thoughts to mean anything to him.
He knows why I wouldn't wanna go to his wedding. He's simply playing dumb and it's pushing me to the edge. "I don't know, alright? I just don't want to."
He puffs out a sarcastic chuckle. He once again turns his back to me and goes back to folding his trunks. "It's sad, Randy. Even after all this time, you still can't bring yourself to say what you really think or feel. You haven't changed. Not one bit."
The worst part is, he's right. He's absolutely right. I've never been able to tell him straight up what I felt. I've never been able to muster up the guts to look him in the eyes and tell him an ounce of my feelings for him. I've always been nothing short of a fucking coward. I sealed that cowardice with a cover as a means to assure him that I was a being unable to love or care for someone. And that's how I lost him.
It started out physical. Our relationship was taken to the next level out of pure attraction for one another. It was undeniable. The way he'd react to me went above and beyond idolatry while I simply couldn't resist his body. It was intense from the get-go. We couldn't keep our hands off each other. What started out as a one night stand turned into encounters we couldn't keep count of anymore. He was addicted to my body just like I was to his'. I kept going back for more. I couldn't get enough of him. Just by the look in his eyes, I knew when I wanted me. All it took was one look to light up the attraction.
It started out physical. But it didn't last that way for long.
Somewhere along the line, what was purely a physical relationship turned into something bigger, something that exceeded attraction. Our need for one another slowly left the lines of lust. Our need found its source in something deeper. That transition wasn't something either of us picked up on immediately. It was too natural to feel. But at some point, the deepening nature of our relationship was inevitable to notice. And that's when my shift in behavior happened.
It wasn't his body that I solely longed for. It was him as a whole. Everything about him captivated me. I felt a sense of euphoria that I never knew existed every time I came in him. I was taken to whole new levels of serenity each time he took charge and filled me whole. Never did his touch fail to leave behind trails of tingles and goosebumps on my skin. A feeling of completion flooded through me every morning I'd wake up next to him. He'd changed me, turned me into someone I could barely recognize. Someone who was much happier. Someone who'd finally found peace. I could see those same changes in him as well. He didn't look at me with desire anymore. He'd look at me with tenderness I never knew I could bring out in someone. His kisses changed. They'd last longer. They'd bear in them something more passionate. They'd tear rapture through my soul and take hold of it entirely.
And as those realizations progressively rained down on me, the protective, yet oh so destructive side of me, took over. I'd surrendered myself to another human being. My entire happiness and wellbeing depended on Cody, who could positively break me if he were to fuck me over and walk away. I became so dependent of him, it scared me. He scared me. In truth, I was probably more vulnerable than I'd ever been. I became even more paranoid than I usually am. I couldn't be in a place of vulnerability. I couldn't take that chance. So what did I do? I took the cheap, coward way out. I pushed him away. I became a complete and utter douchebag. And it only got worse.
I started out by tearing my gaze away every time I caught myself staring at him for a second too long. Then, I took away any semblance of softness in our relationship. I didn't allow him to have the power and take me. I had to have the upper hand. There was no more love making. Just fucking. I became flat out rough with him, to the point where I'd allow myself to barge in his hotel room, take him dry against the door and walk out before he could say a word. I started throwing him out of my room after we were done fucking. At first, I gave excuses. That I had to wake up and check out early for the next town. Quickly enough, I didn't even bother giving any reason. I just kicked him out. I didn't let the abundant hurt in his eyes cloud my judgment. I couldn't. I'd take a thousand steps back otherwise. It was degrading. It was fucking humiliating.
And yet, for all the measures I took to push him away, I still couldn't stay away. I couldn't go on without him. A day without him unnerved me to no end. And it was the same for him. He withstood that horrific treatment of mine for so long, too long, I have to admit… Until he couldn't keep up anymore. His sense of urgency kicked in. The dignity he'd put aside for me reemerged. He walked out of my room one night and never looked back.
He completely cut himself off from me. He disregarded every text I'd sent him inviting him up to my room. He didn't return any of my calls. He would walk past me in the hallways without so much looking at me for a split second. I would call after him in said hallways and get nothing in return. Nothing. Nothing at all. I was losing it. My temper was at an all-time high. I couldn't stand anything or anyone. I was losing sleep, trying too hard to release the tension in my permanently balled fists. I wanted to fucking scream. To yell my lungs out. I was acting like an addict who couldn't get his fix. I was going fucking mental.
I couldn't take it anymore. I really fucking couldn't. I needed to have him in front of me. I needed an explanation. It was decided. I waited for him at the corner of the hallway and startled him by dragging him by the wrist to my own locker room.
"Randy, what the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"Why are you ignoring me?"
"Are you seriously asking me this question?"
"Why? Why the fuck are you doing this to me?"
"Seriously, I can't do this right now. I need to go now."
"No you won't," I forcefully grabbed him by the shoulders. "Tell me why you're fucking me over like this. Tell me!" I shouted.
And then he proceeded to utter words that would haunt me till this day.
"You seriously don't know why I'm cutting you the fuck off? You honestly think I was gonna keep up with being treated like a bitch? You are the first man I've ever been with. The first man I have ever felt attracted to. I gave you everything. I gave you my all. You had all of me. And how did you repay me? You fucked me over. You treated me like I wasn't even a fucking person. You treated me like I was nothing. Absolutely nothing. I have never felt more humiliated in my life. I have never, ever felt so disgusting. But I still kept up with it for months and months and months even though I knew better. By you know why I did? Huh? You wanna know why? Because for some god forsaken reason, I'm in love with you. Do you hear me? I'm fucking in love with you. And I kept up with this bullshit in hopes you'd change. In hopes I'd get back one look. The same look you'd give me when we both came. The same look you'd give me when I'd catch you glancing at me from the corner of your eyes. I gave you everything, everything I had… And you gave nothing me in return. And I knew you'd never give me anything in return. And judging by the look in your eyes right now, you're still not gonna give me anything in return..."
And just like that, he walked out of the locker room before I could even say a word. My head was spinning out of control. I was hit hard by every word he'd said. I wanted to call after him. But my voice wouldn't leave my mouth. I wanted to come clean. I wanted to tell him every little bit of how I felt about him. But I couldn't manage to. I never could.
"I know, Cody. I know I've never been an open book."
"To say the least," he responds.
"I know."
"And yet…," he starts as he picks up his boots from the ground to place them in his bag, "You won't do anything about it. You know you're unable to talk about your feelings, and you know how bad it is. And you won't do anything about it."
He's provoking me. And he's succeeding. "Yeah, well what do you want me to do, Cody? At least I acknowledge it." I throw my arms out in desperation. Or defeat. Or both.
He violently drops his boots on top of his bag and finally turns around to look at me face to face. His pristine blue eyes are shooting daggers through mine. The intensity in them was far too reminiscent of that last moment we shared in my locker room. "How about you just tell me the truth for once? The pure, simple truth?"
Once again, I stand before him dumbstruck. All I'm able to do is stand there and stare at him. I can't talk. My brain is split in half, each side being at war with the other and I'm rendered speechless. I will always be my own worst enemy.
Seeing my lack of response, he turns away and speeds up his packing process. He finishes quickly and zips up his bag. "You know what, why bother? This is you we're talking about. It's too late. And it's a lost cause. You're a lost cause. You'll never be able to tell me the truth."
He picks up his bag and throws it over his shoulder. He makes a beeline for the door. I enter panic mode. I'm buzzing. I'm frantic. I'm desperate. I can't let him walk away. Not again. I can't. I march behind him. "I can tell you the truth."
I hold him by his shoulders and turn him to face me. He struggles against my touch. "No. You can't."
I shove him against the lockers. His bag drops off of his shoulder. I stare him down. "Yes. I can."
Before he could say a single word, I push my lips against his' in a harsh kiss. It ends as quickly as it begins. He cuts me off, slapping both of his hands against my chest. But he doesn't budge. He doesn't even utter a word. His clear blue eyes are piercing through mine. I could swear they were a shade darker. I take my chances. He won't stop me. He doesn't want me to.
I quickly resume our kiss. I crash my mouth on his with even more force. I move his lips in small motions. In mere seconds, he responds. I finally feel his lips moving against mine. Our pecks speedily turn vicious. Passion overflows through our kiss. Our lips are latching onto one another. But I need more. Without any invitation, my tongue breaches his lips and I rob him of the last breath he had. My tongue goes over every inch of his hot mouth. I can hear his moans. Fuck, it's been too long. It feels amazing. His tongue reaches out for mine. I'm panting. He's panting. And I'm losing my mind. Our tongues are sliding against each other, massaging, lingering there together.
His hands wander across my back, moving up and down. He grabs a handful of my shirt, twisting it in his fists, with a tension that almost tore it. My hands roam over his chest, tracing over his muscles, before sliding under his shirt. I finally graze his abs, get free access to his smooth skin. The smell of his skin invades my nostrils and enchants me entirely. God, I've missed him. I've missed him so much…
But he pushes me away. He steps away from me. He's dazed, barely able to open his eyes. "No, no… I can't… Brandi… No… I'm sorry… I can't…"
I'm reeling too much to be able to look at him. But as I open my eyes, I watch leave him the room, my hands reaching out for empty space. I see him walk away. Again.
I stand motionless in the same spot he left me in. I don't know how long I stand there. All I know is that my body is fueled with hurt. Anger. Regret. I punch the lockers Cody was heaved against. It's all I can afford to do. I keep punching them until I run out of air.
The dents I left in those lockers were not enough to let out all the pain I felt in my heart. They could never be. I slide down against the now destroyed lockers. I feel so tired. Every bit of energy in me was gone. I run my hands over my face before I look up to the ceiling. The weight of the world caves in on me. The troubles of my mind wrap me up. I see nothing but darkness. And hurt. A whole lot of hurt. As I sit there on the floor, my brain takes me back to that last fateful night in my locker room. As the memories of that night wash over me, I mouth the words that were trapped inside me for too long, the words that wanted to escape my mouth for so long, the words that'll perpetually haunt me, the same words I'll forever regret not saying.
"I'm in love with you too."