Their first time together had been chaotic and violent and rough.
John had stormed into Randy's locker room in a fury, shoulders and chest heaving and bright eyes gleaming with barely controlled rage. Randy had quirked a cocky eyebrow and smirked back at him, enjoying the sight of the usually calm man losing his shit. Randy's amusement had quickly shifted into something hotter and more dangerous as John advanced on him, loud yells lowering into deep growls that shot straight down Randy's spine. His inner alpha had reacted defensively once John had him cornered though, and he'd pushed John hard in the chest, the older man growling and pushing back just as hard and sending Randy sprawling to the floor.
The next thing Randy remembered was John's tight fist tugging hard on his cock, and a bone-melting pain shooting up his spine that soon morphed into a pleasure he swore would stop his heart. He'd limped out to his rental afterwards and driven back to the hotel in a daze, checking in and getting in the elevator without having paid much attention to his surroundings. When he exited the elevator and looked up to see John standing at the end of the hall unlocking the door to his own room, the dense fog in his mind lifted, and he'd snapped. He pushed into the room behind John and kicked the door closed behind him, hands clawing at John's sweats. In one continuous motion he'd pushed John down onto the bed and sealed his mouth around John's cock, moaning around the shaft as he fought to unzip and remove his jeans with one hand. He sucked until the older man swore the room was spinning around him then pushed John backwards and impaled himself on his dick, rocking himself to completion before squeezing his muscles around John until his climax crashed over him too.
They were good friends and had been for nearly a decade, so in the days and weeks afterward, the two men continued to hang out, enjoying meals and movies and trips to random clubs together. But every now and then they'd meet up in secret and indulge their unspoken need for each other, neither uttering a word except a curse or a fuck yes please right there while they satisfied their bodies.
~*~
Things had changed, though, and Randy couldn't quite put his finger on when that had begun to happen. He sat on the king sized bed he now shared with the older man, wondering when the hell their two separate and distinct lives had begun to merge. He watched John pace around the room, brow furrowed in frustration, and he felt a frown of his own begin to form on his face. He was confused about what was going on, about when meetings at two AM at pay by the hour motels had become travelling and lodging together and when harsh bites had melted into tentative but searing kisses. He no longer had any idea what was happening, and he wondered if John was feeling the same way.
"Rand, have you seen my watch?" Randy frowned deeper at the interruption to his thoughts.
"Your what?" John sighed, eyes scanning the room.
"My watch. The one you got me a few weeks ago when we were in Texas. Have you seen it?" When did we start randomly buying each other gifts? he mused.
"It's on top of the dresser with your dog tags," he replied. Where it always is, he finished in his mind, his face pulling into an even tighter frown. When thefuckdid I start paying attention to where he keeps his shit?
John finally stopped pacing to look at Randy and was surprised to see his face turned down and brows furrowed. John walked over and sat down next to him, rubbing out the knot of tension that had settled between Randy's shoulder blades.
"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice holding a concerned tone that did something funny to Randy's chest. Randy looked up at him, blue eyes round and shining and full of what John would swear in federal court was fear.
"What's happening to us?" he almost croaked, and John's heart gave a tight squeeze in his chest.
"Wh-…what do you mean?" John responded, his soothing massage of Randy's shoulders stopping suddenly. Randy cleared his throat, pulling his hands over his face before turning desperate eyes to John.
"I mean, what the fuck is happening to us? What the hell is going on here?" he questioned, gesturing to the rather small space between them. "Why do I know where you keep your shit? Why did you rub my back when you sat down next to me? Why did you sit down next to me in the first place? Why are we in the same hotel room again for what I think might be the sixth or seventh week in a row? What are we doing? …What is this?"
John's head fell as Randy finished his tirade. He'd known this would happen, that Randy would finally start thinking instead of going with the flow and realize that things had changed. He'd been dreading it for weeks because he knew the nature of their future together rested completely on how Randy responded to what he said next.
Randy frowned as John got up, sighing to himself and rubbing the tense muscles in his neck while he paced. He followed John's movements with his eyes, his focused gaze not missing the way John chewed on his bottom lip and muttered under his breath. Finally John stopped in front of him, eyes boring into Randy's with an intensity that almost made the younger man uncomfortable. There was something in those eyes that he knew he should recognize, but he couldn't, and it just made him more confused and more frustrated.
"Are you just gonna stand there and stare at me, or are you gonna say something?" he growled, more out of confusion than true anger. John knew this and didn't allow Randy's tone to faze him. He sighed and fell to his knees in front of Randy, hands braced on his own legs as he began.
"We're changing. Or…we've already changed. We're more now. More than just friends. …It's bigger than that." He looked up to see Randy still frowning in confusion, and his hands fisted in his jeans, his nerves making his voice tremble. "You know where I keep my shit because you're here when I pack and unpack. You're here when I pysch myself up for work and when I wind myself down, and I'm here when you do the same. Just like I'm here when you eat. When you sleep. When you shower. When you stay up at night watching Ace of Cakes and Everyday Italian because you can't sleep." John tentatively lifted his hands and placed them on Randy's bare knees, his basketball shorts having settled around his thighs. He squeezed gently, and something hot shot through Randy. It scared him.
"I rubbed your back…I sat down next to you…because you were upset, and that upsets me." Randy's ever present frown deepened more than John thought was possible.
"Why does it upset you to see me upset, John?"
"…Because, Randy…" John couldn't make himself finish. Every time he tried, he got choked up, overwhelmed by his own feelings. He stared deep into Randy's eyes, hoping he could read what was there, that his eyes would say what his mouth had been longing but unable to for weeks.
Randy shifted in his spot as John's gaze bore through him again. He stared back, as confused as ever when finally,finally it clicked.
~*~
"Get out."
John sighed, face buried in his hands. "You can't kick me out, Randy; this is our room."
"I don't fucking care! Get the fuck out!" Randy shouted, deep voice booming through the relatively small room as he paced back and forth in front of John. His mind was racing, and he couldn't keep himself still. When he'd finally understood what John was trying to tell him without speaking, he'd freaked, jumping off the bed and staring down at the older man in horror. John had slowly climbed onto the bed, taking the spot that he'd vacated while he took over John's pacing, trying to convince himself that what he knew was happening wasn't really happening.
"I'm not going anywhere, Randy, and neither is this. We have to talk," John said, sounding more tired and worn out than he did after even the roughest of matches. He sighed for what felt like the millionth time as Randy shook his head.
"No."
"Randy-"
"No."
John sighed in frustration yet again, his hands balling into fists on top of his legs. "Dammit, Randy, stop being so childish and listen to me! We have to talk about this!"
"There's nothing to talk about. We have nothing to talk about." John shook his head to himself, hurt but not surprised by Randy's reaction. He ran his hands over his face and looked up at Randy, the intensity of his gaze stopping the younger man in his tracks.
"Yes. We do. I-"
"Don't. Don't say it. Don't you dare-"
"I love you. I'm in love with you. And you're in love with me, too."
Randy launched himself at John, teeth bared and fists flying. John refused to fight back, only raising his arms to protect his head as Randy attacked him. He shouted in pain as Randy landed two hard shots to his ribs, reaching up to try to grab the fists coming at him. Randy fought hard though, his thick legs squeezing John's sides as he continued to throw punches. John felt something wet drip onto the forearm he had raised over his head and hesitantly peeked up at Randy's face. He was prepared to let Randy fight until he collapsed, but when he saw that the younger man was crying, tears streaming down his face as he screamed, he decided enough was enough. Grunting with the effort, he pushed himself up, his forehead colliding with Randy's who shouted in pain and surprise. John tried to roll and put Randy under him, but Randy countered him, rolling his weight through and sending them both tumbling off the bed.
The two landed hard on the floor, John taking advantage of Randy's shock at the impact to pin him down with his cheek pressing into the carpet. He gripped both of Randy's wrists in one hand above Randy's head and pressed his knee firmly into Randy's back. Randy squirmed and bucked beneath him, curses flying like daggers through the air, but he stopped suddenly, gasping as John stroked a hand down his side and leaned over to whisper in his ear.
"Stop fighting me. Stop fighting this," he breathed into Randy's neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. Randy shuddered beneath John, hands balling into fists in defiance even as he felt himself harden in his shorts. He tried again to buck John off of him, but it was half-hearted, and the older man could tell. He let go of Randy's hands and removed his knee from Randy's back, straddling his hips and rubbing circles into his ribs. Randy's hands fisted in the carpet above his head as John pressed a firm kiss between his shoulder blades, an involuntary moan fighting its way out of his throat. John grinned against his back, grasping Randy's hips in his hands and grinding down slowly.
"John…" Randy gasped out. He pushed his hips backwards and up, pressing himself tightly against the erection he could feel through John's jeans. His body shuddered again as John licked behind his ear before kissing the delicate shell gently.
"I want you, Randy. All of you. Forever. But I won't force this. …You have to say you want me, too." John's voice was uncertain, and it shook Randy to his core. There was nothing unsure about John Cena. The fact that he was the one to shake John's confidence should've been a stroke to his ego but instead created a rising panic that Randy knew meant he'd done something he swore he'd never do.
"I don't-" he began, stopping and clearing his throat when his voice cracked. "I don't know how to do this," he admitted. John reached down and rolled him over, settling himself over Randy's hips and cradling Randy's face in his hands.
"Take the leap, Randy. I'm right here. I won't let you fall."
~*~
Their first time together was slow and emotional and perfect.
Randy had closed his eyes tightly, sucking in a deep breath while he let out the words he'd been sure he'd never say to another human being, let alone this human being.
"I…I'm in love with you," he'd whispered, voice breaking in the middle. John had grinned so hard Randy swore his dimples would be permanently etched in his cheeks, and Randy had cried when John pressed a kiss so achingly sweet it burned right between his eyebrows. Randy reached up to bring John closer to him, their lips meeting gently yet eagerly. Their kiss was exploratory and wet, John swiping the tears from Randy's cheeks and Randy doing the same to him. John had pulled away first, smiling at Randy's groan of disapproval and reaching down to pull off his t-shirt. Randy took in every inch of John's bare skin and the bruises blossoming there, frowning as he lifted his hips so John could remove his shorts and boxers. He'd sighed contentedly when John brushed wet kisses across his chest and moaned when John wrapped a tight fist around his cock, squeezing and stroking rhythmically and driving Randy insane.
John sat back and watched as Randy unbuckled his belt and unzipped his jeans, hand still gliding smoothly over the cock in his hand. He'd moaned loudly, immensely turned on as he watched Randy's hands, sometimes deftly freeing his arousal from his jeans and sometimes fisting in the denim as waves of pleasure moved through him. He'd gasped when Randy grasped him tightly and pulled, their movements synchronizing with ease. When Randy got up and tried to turn himself around on all fours, John had stopped him, holding tightly to Randy's arm. When he looked up at him questioningly, John had shaken his head.
"I want you inside of me," he'd said, and Randy nearly exploded.
"I don't…I can't...what if I hurt you?" he'd croaked, eyes wide and face pale at the thought of causing John any more pain.
"You won't. I trust you. And fuck, I want this," John moaned in return, and Randy had consented, pulling John's jeans and shorts down and off his legs.
They'd taken their time, Randy stretching John with his fingers while he lapped at his cock with his tongue, and John thought he was dying. He'd whimpered and cried and begged for Randy, and the younger man had loved every single fucking second of it, committing the sound of John's voice moaning his name to memory forever. Randy had almost given up when John hollered in pain as he pushed into his body, but was reassured when John locked his legs around his waist and threatened to kill him if he pulled out. He nearly lost his mind when he was all the way inside, John's body clenching tightly around him and making his eyes cross.
They'd kissed lovingly while John adjusted before Randy began, his rhythm slow and deliberate. He'd pressed his forehead against John's and had taken in every expression of pleasure that moved across John's face as he pressed deep into his body with his cock. John had scored Randy's back with his nails when Randy found the perfect balance of tempo and force, and Randy had bucked hard into John in a mixture of pain and pleasure. They'd lost themselves in each other, time passing without either of them noticing. John whispered sweetly into Randy's ear while he moaned into his shoulder, and Randy nibbled at the scar on John's neck when he pressed against his prostate and made the older man moan so hard no noise came out.
Their orgasms had been cataclysmic, each man certain the world had been torn in half by the force of their joined climax, and each had grinned brightly when he realized that they had come shouting each other's names.
"What now?" John had asked after they'd both come down. He'd turned on his side to gaze at Randy's face, his lover laying peacefully on his side and stroking a random pattern across John's abdomen. Randy had pushed John onto his back and kissed him deeply, grinding down into John's awakening cock.
"Now we go again," he'd whispered, licking a warm, wet path up John's neck to his ear. John had shuddered beneath him, gripping at Randy's hips and looking up with amazement.
" You want me again, huh?" he'd half laughed, half gasped, and Randy had kissed him, rocking backwards and sinking down onto John's erection with a deep moan.
"Yes," he'd panted across John's lips. "Again. And always."