Hellooo all of you out there! I know, I'm late with posting anything in my ongoing stories and I'm not happy about it, but my job is very demanding at the moment and I don't have much time lately to write :,-(

I wrote this one a while ago and never posted it, don't really know why. I tripped over it in my archive a week ago and now I decided to start to post it bit by bit until I've got more time to go on with my other stories.

Enjoy ;-)

xxx

The last rays of the setting sun reached out into the darkening colors of the dying day, clinging to them as if to stop the sun from drowning in the far horizon. It was a gorgeous sunset with vivid coloring, deep blue, burning red, soft violet and sparkling orange and looking at it was like looking at a living work of art. And wasn't there a thin light blue line in between? As blue as his eyes, full of live and joy?

Randy stood at the window, his eyes fixed on the sunset, drawn to it like a moth to the flame. It was a sight that should have put a smile on his lips, instead those lips were pressed to a thin line.

No matter how much he tried to convince himself that everything would be alright after this night, the knot in his stomach wouldn't go away. It felt like a heavy stone, accompanied by a slight sickness.

Two hours… still two hours left until he would find himself at the proverbial point of no return and either he would ruin everything by being himself or he would for once manage not to shoot himself in the foot…

Finally he managed to break away from the beautiful sight, walking over to the bathroom. Staring into the mirror Randy looked himself over, once, twice. He sighed. To say that he was nervous would have been an understatement. That he felt guilty, too.

Two hours and he didn't have the least idea how to put into words how sorry he was or what he felt. For him. Or how he felt without him.

His thoughts evolved around so many things… This morning for example. It had left him shocked and worried…

The door jumped open and Randy walked into John's locker. He didn't even bother to knock, because he knew he didn't need to. He had a complimentary ticket to walk in at any time just like that. Into John's locker, his house. Into his life. Because of different schedules they hadn't seen each other in a while and Randy was happy that they were on the show together tonight. Behind him the door clicked shut.

John was currently changing into his ring-gear and about to slip his shirt over his head. Randy's eyes fell on his friend's upper body and it made him freeze. He remained stock-still, not even a word left his lips while his gaze roamed the picture in front of him.

Bruises, some small, some quite big, some fading and some fresh, blemished the pale skin, with a few scratches between. Staring at John, Randy's mind refused to accept what his eyes told him. This couldn't be.

"Hey, Ortz," John called over his shoulder.

"Hey," Randy murmured back and walked up to him.

One bruise peeked out from under the waistline of John's shorts, looking suspiciously like a mark resulting from a bruising grip. Then the shirt slipped down the broad back and blocked his view. Instead it revealed another bruise on John's neck. It looked like a choke slam gone wrong. And then John turned around and Randy held his breath. A busted eyebrow and a shiner on his right eye, a slightly swollen and busted lip. John looked incredibly tired but he managed to bring up an honest smile nevertheless.

"Good to see you," John said, pulling him into a hug.

Shocked about John's condition it took Randy a moment to realize that John was hugging him and just when the older man loosened his embrace, Randy pulled him back in, wrapping his arms around him. He held him tight, almost like he was afraid his friend could vanish if he didn't, and the fact that John winced didn't escape his notice. Slowly John's arms came back around his waist and he rested his forehead in an intimate gesture of more than just close friendship and trust against the crook of Randy's neck.

"What's wrong?" John asked.

Randy swallowed hard and replied: "You tell me."

John tried to take a step back, but Randy gave him just enough room so that they could look at each other.

"What do you mean?"

John did not only look tired, he sounded like he hadn't been sleeping in days.

"What did he do to you?" Randy asked quietly.

"What? Who?"

"Oh, come on. You know who," the younger man huffed, one hand settling on the nasty mark on John's neck as if to soothe it away. "George. What the fuck happened?"

John tensed up ever so slightly and pushed himself away from his friend, bringing some space between them. Again a smile appeared on his face, but this time it wasn't convincing. Randy's hand slipped from John's neck and fell to his side, fingers clenching to a fist.

"Nothing happened. Training went a little over the top, that's all."

"Yeah, sure. John, you look like you ran full force into a bulldozer. You know you can tell me anything, don't you?"

"I know, Ortz. But everything is fine, really," the older man assured, smile wavering a bit.

"John, please…"

"Leave it, Randy. It's fine, okay?" John repeated and this time there was a slightly hard tone in his voice. "So, why did you come here?"

Sighing silently Randy decided to drop the subject for now, no matter how hard it was for him to do so, but this wasn't a good place to discuss something like that. He would come back to it later. Maybe tonight…

"Well, first of all it's been a while since I saw you and I wanted to drop by and say hello to my best friend," Randy explained, trying to bring up a smile himself, failing to though. "And I wanted to invite you over to my place tonight for dinner. So? Got some time left for me?"

"Yeah, that'd be great," John agreed and then there it was, that megawatt smile of his, all dimples and Randy felt warmth spread in his chest.

They talked a few minutes longer and when Randy left John's locker room, an uneasy feeling stirred in his stomach. And whatever had happened to John, it was Randy's fault. If it hadn't been for him and his idiocy, John wouldn't be where he now was…

His reflection stared back at him while he kept looking into the mirror, all lost in his thoughts. Maybe he shouldn't have let John put the incident off just like that. And being John's best friend he shouldn't have let him go home at all, should have taken him here directly. The bad feeling that had made itself known the moment he stepped into John's locker this morning had grown to full-blown worry. He'd made a decision over the last three weeks, the time he hadn't seen John, and all he could do now was trying to make it up to him. Somehow.

The images of the bruises popped up in his mind, of the busted lip and eyebrow, the shiner… He'd seen that George-guy only once and he'd been suddenly there, when Randy came back from a Smackdown-Tour. That man was about John's size and didn't seem to be very nice. John never lost a word about how he got to know him or why he jumped just like that into a relationship with a man and someone so unfriendly like him. Randy disliked the mere idea of John and this man – he didn't even want to think the name – together, in every possible way...

And in addition to that he had to find John like that, battered and bruised, and sure as hell that hadn't come from a training gone over the top.

Fuck.

Now he had to solve two problems – the George-guy problem and his own idiocy.

Frowning he smoothed his hands down his shirt and a small smile tugged at his lips. At least John would like his outfit. Blue jeans, tight black sleeveless shirt and Chucks. Plain and simple.

Wow, you look stunning, Ortz…

That was what John had said the first time he'd worn those clothes. Back then this statement had surprised him, but he'd felt flattered nevertheless. Not that he would have admitted it.

Shortly after things became complicated…

It had been their first match against one another in quite a while and it had been good but demanding. Following the storyline John lost their match and thus was already back at his locker room when Randy arrived backstage after celebrating his victory.

He walked along the corridor, lost in his thoughts, which were centered on random moments of their match or to be more precise on images that popped up in his mind. There had been confusing moments during the match, very, very confusing moments. Again, an image popped up… John, on the canvas, sweating, panting, face flushed, lips slightly parted as he tried to catch his breath…

As he tried to keep his body from reacting, his confusion grew. It wasn't like he hadn't noticed that he was attracted to John, but not on this level. It had always been… okay. This was new. And he could have sworn that John… that look in his eyes, the way he'd moved against him… Randy tried to wrap his mind around that. John had moved against him, he couldn't name it otherwise, in a way you only do in… bed. In front of millions. At least he'd managed to keep it oh so very subtle, but nevertheless... He had to find out…

Randy swallowed hard and willed his body not to embarrass him, since he felt his blood rush to southern regions and he was still in his ring gear, surrounded by co-workers and lots of other people.

Then finally he arrived at John's locker room and pushed the door open. The locker was empty, but he heard the sound of a running shower. The door was closed and locked and then Randy began to walk over to the shower, slowly, hesitantly. The door to the shower was open, revealing a breathtaking view on John who was standing there, engulfed by rising steam. The water that rained down on him cascaded down his body, over flexing muscles and then he tilted his head back, eyes closed and his hands brushed through his face, down his chest and his abs to his erected dick. A low, rumbling groan fell off his lips as he touched himself and Randy caught himself as he reached down to his own dick, finding a matching hardness there. And he kept watching as John started to stroke himself agonizingly slow, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. And through the sound of the falling water he heard a whispered word…

… Randy …

It was the very moment his common sense shut down and the predator took over…