Many people knew Randy Orton.
Few people knew the real Randal Keith Orton.
The real Randal Keith Orton was a very gentle, kind, bighearted, silly, fun-loving and outgoing man. He loved spending time with his family, friends and husband.
Randy, in reality, was very much different than the character he portrayed on television. And who was the person who saw that side of Randy the most? His husband.
John Cena.
John had seen Randy through his fair share of good and bad moments. He was there when Randy hit a very dark, rough patch in his life and he was also there when he won his first World Championship Title.
No matter the situation, through it all, Randy remained himself.
Now, John was sitting down in the shallow end of the pool on the stairs, admiring his husband from afar. The taller, darker man was standing out on the patio, grilling hot dogs, steak and burgers. He was only wearing a pair of dark blue jeans that hung low with Calvin Klein underwear peaking up right above his waist. On his head he wore an off-white Cowboy hat. To top everything off, the man was singing and dancing along to whatever song was playing on the radio. John was too far to hear it.
He wasn't, however, too far to enjoy this side of his husband which rarely anyone got to ever see. They were considered lucky in his eyes if they did ever get to see this. John couldn't help the large grin that was tattooed on his face. He was smiling so hard his dimples were beginning to hurt.
"Hey, John? Do you think this will be enough food?" Randy asked as he turned to face the man. He was only answered with a wide smile. "John?"
"Huh?" John came to his senses when saw Randy waving his hands in the air.
"I asked if this would be enough food. But obviously you're in your own little world over there," Randy chuckled. John stood and began to make his way over to Randy, water dripping from his trunks.
"I definitely wasn't the only one in my own world," John laughed. Randy took a few steps toward him and then curled his eyebrows.
"What are you getting at?"
"What song were you dancing to?" John smiled widely when Randy's cheek flushed red. He wrapped his arms around the larger man's waist and pulled him close. Randy nuzzled his face into his husband's neck and shook his head.
"I can't believe you saw that."
"What? You think that was the first time?" John felt Randy still in his arms.
"Oh come on. I don't do this all the time," He pulled away from John slightly and looked down into the bright blue eyes shining up at him.
"Yes you very much do. But don't worry. I've never told anyone about it," Randy nodded slightly. "Don't be embarrassed babe."
"Easy for you to say, Mr. Perfect," John laughed as Randy hid his face in his hands.
"It was pretty cute if you ask me," The older man whispered into his husband's ear.
"Don't mention this to anyone… Please," John nodded, allowing Randy to exhale a deep breath.
"On one condition," Randy groaned and dropped his arms to his sides.
"Which is?"
"I get to call you Cowboy."
"John!" Randy whined, pushing the man away from him and returning to the grill. John couldn't help but laugh loudly.
"Shit, Codes, I didn't think it was all that good," Randy chuckled as he watched his cousin walk back into the living room holding his fifth plate of Spaghetti.
"Are you kidding? It tastes just like Grams'," John pat Randy's, thigh, smiling because his point had been proven. Earlier in the day, Randy almost had a breakdown saying that it tasted nothing like his Grandmother's infamous spaghetti and that he ruined the recipe forever.
"Thanks."
"Told you so," Randy quickly shushed everyone in the room as a promo for an upcoming UFC fight showed up on the TV.
Much to John's dismay, it was a promo that included none other than one of Randy's favorites, "Cowboy" Donald Cerrone.
"He fights for a living every day and can't get away from it for a minute," Dean Ambrose joked and shook his head from his spot on the floor. Randy responded with a quick flip of his middle finger. Once the preview ended Randy relaxed back onto the couch and the large group of men continued on with their various conversations.
Later, the guys had all returned back to the hotels they were staying at for the next few days, leaving John and Randy to their quiet home. Randy was standing in the kitchen, washing all of the dishes dirtied from the day. The radio was playing near him. Happy by Pharrell Williams ended, and so did Randy's singing. A few moments later Lay Me Down by Sam Smith. Randy smiled to himself. He remembered when he and John had deemed this their "21st Century" love song.
"Yes I do, I believe. That one day I will be, where I was - Right there, right next to you," Randy sang. "And it's hard, the days just seem so dark. The moon, and the stars, are nothing without you."
"Your touch, your skin, where do I begin? No words can explain, the way I'm missing you," A soft voice behind him sang. Two strong arms wrapped around him from behind him. Randy smiled, closed his eyes, and relaxed back into the arms.
"Hi Johnny," Randy spoke gently.
"Hey Cowboy," John kissed the man's neck.
"What are you doing awake? I thought you were heading up to bed after you spoke with your mom," Randy dried his hands and then turned around in John's arms, smiling down at the man.
"I was. And then I heard a certain song playing on the radio and I decided I had to find out if a certain someone was singing along," Randy's cheeks tinted red.
"Sorry," John shook his head.
"Don't be sorry… Dance with me, Cowboy," Randy nodded. John pecked his lips slowly and took a few steps backwards. Randy wrapped his arms around his husband's neck, smiling even wider when he heard the gentle words come from John's lips.
"Can I lay by your side, next to you, you? And make sure you're alright. I'll take care of you. And I don't want to be here if I can't be with you tonight," John sang as he stared into Randy's eyes. The younger man's eyes slowly began to grow watery. John could only help but smile lightly. Randy leaned forward and kissed John, temporarily stopping the lyrics flowing from John's mouth. The moment they parted, John smiled and then resumed singing.
"Can I lay by your side? Next to you… You…" John sang the last words to the song and then furrowed his eyebrows at the tears falling from Randy's eyes. "Why are you crying baby?"
"You've never sang to me before, Johnny. Especially not one of our songs," Randy smiled. John wiped away the man's tears and rested his forehead against his husband's.
"I bet you didn't know I could sing either."
"Actually…" John's jaw dropped and Randy couldn't help but laugh.
"No way."
"Your shower voice is very sexy, John," Randy laughed again. This time it was John's cheeks that tinted red.
"You know what? I don't even care. But now, you're not as embarrassed about your whole dancing and singing routine, are you?"
"Absolutely, I still am. You still can't tell anyone about it," Both men smiled at each other.
"Do I still get to call you the nickname?" Randy bit his lip and then nodded.
"On one condition," John's face fell into a slight frown. "You have to sing to me more often." After a moment of thinking, John sighed contently.
"You got it, Cowboy."