Fandom: WWE Slash
Pairing: Wade Barrett / John Cena (ergo JADE)
Rating: T
Disclaimer: I do not own either John nor Wade (sad) or the WWE - this is all made up.
Till you brightest days
Wade had watched silently as the last stars of the night's sky had disappeared gradually. A bright red sun was creeping over the horizon and now yellow daylight shone into the hotel room. He was still holding John's sleeping body in my arms, he dared not moving a millimeter or producing any sound; it felt heavenly, holding the sleep-warm sleeping John, feeling him close to his side, listening to his quiet breathing.
Again and again, he sniffed at his neck, his hair, inhaled his scent, and waves of happiness rushed through his body and made him dizzy. Cena smelled so good, his skin was so soft, his body so warm... Endless hours passed like this, so full of bliss that Wade enjoyed.
Finally and gradually John woke up.
Wade didn't want to separate from the embrace immediately and so he started stroking John's arm and shoulder lovingly.
"Good morning," he muttered quietly, hiding the nervousness in his heart. John turned around and looked at him with tiny, sleepy eyes.
"Morning... you're still here," Cena smiled gently.
His cheeks glowed red in memory of the previous evening. He had told Wade so much, had revealed his innermost feelings. Now he wondered what the Englishman would do with this information. It had been good to feel somebody at his side, on whose shoulder he could have a good cry. But even this had been too much to ask of Wade.
John knew that he had to get alone all on his own, that he should not rely on the help of others. Too great was the danger at the end to fall into a deep black hole of which he could not escape again. While all these thoughts swirled through his head, Wade watched the thoughtful Cena, whose eyes showed a glassy, absent sight.
The blue light shone in them, filled with daylight and reminded Wade of luminous gems - valuables that could reflect a whole soul. Cena's rough voice awoke him from his dreamy thoughts again.
"Look, Stu ... I think it's better if you leave now. "
Without a word to say Wade looked him straight in the eye, trying to guess John's motives. He did not know what to make of it; he was kind of hurt because he wanted to be there for Cena to help him back into his everyday life. After yesterday's evening he had hoped, the ice was broken between them, but apparently he was wrong. This insight hurt somehow ...
John smiled gently and Wade could not help but respond to the gentle smile, this smile of beautiful lips and bright eyes that forced him to blush. Somewhere in his chest, his heart thumped against his ribs, called for more of John, more closeness, more words, more touches. More would never be enough ...
"Don't get me wrong, Stu, I'm really grateful that you were there yesterday, but ... I think I have to endure this alone ... you can't do more for me - you have to think of yourself and your career as well. You're just at the beginning, and I'm just an old pro whining at a high level... It's better if you go and let me handle this on my own. "
Confused Wade blinked at him; he could not believe what John just had said - his heart still burned holes into his chest, cried desperately, desired to help Cena. He could not bear that John was not feeling well. Wade wanted the best for him and wanted to do everything for that he would be happy again.
"I will not leave you until you're feeling better again," he answered quietly, but certainly. Enervatedly John closed the eyes and sighed.
"Why? Just because Vince asked you to?" he asked irritably. He wanted to be alone, didn't want to pull Wade into his plight. Who knew where this could end ...
"This has nothing to do with Vince ... John, I'm just worried about you. I want you to gain a few pounds, that you don't look so sickly and that you are happy again. And I'm here to help you here, so please let me. Is that asked too much to let me help you? "
While Wade spoke these words, he looked down at Cena, who was lying with closed eyes in front of him and chewed on his lower lip doubtfully. It was obvious that he fought an inner struggle with himself. On the one hand, he wanted to have Wade here at his side, on the other hand, he was scared. Of what, he did not dare analyzing, he did not want to penetrate too deeply into areas that would bring insecurity and violent feelings with them...
When the silence between them lasted longer and longer and it was unclear whether Cena would ever answer to Wade, the black-haired could not restrain himself any longer. John was so close, his perfume so seductively possessive – Wade followed each of his breaths with fascination, and somewhere in his head, a switch was activated which killed his thinking.
He gently placed one of his huge hands on John's muscled chest and slowly leaned down to him, beguiled by his odor, enchanted, magnetically attracted to him. His lips kissed the stubbly cheek, felt its warmth with every fiber. For a moment, Cena's breathing stopped, his heart rejected any command to beat. A tingling sensation flowed through his belly, his fingertips, and he could not prevent smiling, as one of Wade's hair tickled his face.
"I'll stay with you John ... until you're feeling better, okay?" Wade's tender lips whispered with hot breath into Cena's ear. A chill came over the American and made him shiver inwardly. So close, so close and unspeakably available... He could only nod.
Before he could do anything, Wade had risen again and ordered breakfast over the phone. Disillusioned Cena opened his eyes and looked unimpressed to Wade, who immediately caught his glance and grinned.
"You're going to eat something, even if I have to beat you to it."
"But I'm not hungry," John grumbled unimpressed. The thought of food caused him nausea, disgust spread through him. For days the famine was passé, his body had become accustomed to the food shortage. He was just so tired, so tired and weak ...
"Come on, get up and do what you have to distract yourself from your mind," Wade suggested and rummaged around in his brought traveling bag. He also had to distract himself from his thoughts - he was here to be there for Cena, not to throw himself at him at the first given opportunity. He had lost control - which he did not regret - but he knew he should regret it. No, at least one of them had to keep a clear head, to become master of the situation.
"Then I'll go take a shower," Cena muttered and rose with wobbly legs. Wade skeptically watched his every tentative step, and wondered whether the older would manage without help.
"I can do this on my own," Cena said irritated when he saw Wade's worried looks. He hated to be cared for, even if Wade's compassion somehow flattered him and made him melt inside...
In the bath Cena looked in the mirror for a few moments.
He just could not believe that he was that person, who gazed at him with a pale face - his eye rings, the hollow cheeks, pale skin, the hair that must have been cut a while ago; he looked like a shadow of himself, and he was ashamed that Wade had seen him like that, that he had let himself go like this.
Without hesitating, he grabbed his electric shaver and began shaving his head. As he saw the small, short hair in the sink, he felt as if a portion of his miserable self, had disappeared. When he was finished, he stroked his short hair – he felt clean, like a new man.
While brushing his teeth he could not help but looking constantly and critically at himself in the mirror - he had always been too vain, a perfectionist when it came to his appearance. It didn't please him to see how much muscle mass he had lost; that happened fast, once one was out of the tight training schedule ...
He still felt dizzy and shaky, when he climbed into the shower and let hot water run over his body. While black veils spread before his eyes and through his body shaking dizziness, he wondered when it had been the last time he had had a decent meal, but could not remember... When he had finished soaping, he stood there for several moments under the hot water jet and was comforted by its warmth. It was as if he was back in Wade's strong, protective arms, surrounded by affection and attention ... He almost smell the scent of the Englishman, felt his breath on the neck, the soft fingers on his belly ...
With a loud bang, Cena went to the ground, the water still running over his unconscious body. Thank God he had not locked the bathroom door - not a second later, Wade was standing in the doorway, looking shocked at the naked Cena, who didn't moved an inch. His heart was bursting with excitement, adrenaline pumping through his brain, each tendon was stretched to its breaking point - with a few steps, he was with Cena, turned off the shower and pulled him into his arms.
"John ... John! Can you hear me? John," he shouted again and again, shaking Cena's upper body slightly; his head fell back, his pupils rolled into the back of his head. He was like a rubber doll in Wade's hands, every muscle of his body was limp. Wade put him down desperately, grabbed a towel and wrapped it around John's hips clumsily - just to avoid any further embarrassment for him and the American. Cena's eyelids quivered suddenly, his eyes looked wildly, trying to focus on an object. Everything in his field of vision turned, he felt dizzy, terribly bad, hot and cold at the same time. He hardly noticed that Wade took him into his strong arms and carried him out of the bathroom – he froze when a cold draught hit him. Gently Wade lay him down on the bed, looked down at him very worried.
"It's nothing ...", Cena mumbled feebly - speaking was so tiring, more exhausting than breathing. His head throbbed, his debilitated body screamed for energy.
"That was just my bloodstream, nothing more ...", he gasped.
Wade was not only concerned, he was also angry - at himself that he had let John go alone, that he had not insisted that he ate something first ... But he bit his tongue and said nothing first - right now his concern was greater than his anger. He was just happy and relieved that John had opened his eyes again ...
Suddenly there was a knock on the door later and for a moment Dan stood in the door with a terrified-looking porter at his side.
"The guy here says you had ordered breakfast, did you?" He roared, Wade just nodded and so Dan granted the boy admission to enter. Then Dan looked at Cena, who was powerless in the sheets and appeared semi-conscious. Dan immediately walked his way to Cena.
"What the hell happened?" he exclaimed, his voice beeping menacingly in Wade's eardrum.
"His bloodstream...", Wade replied softly, whereupon Cena just nodded.
"Leave us alone Dan," Cena murmured with his eyes closed, shortly before falling asleep again.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Mister. I have not seen that he is better yet ...", Dan said with a hateful voice.
"I have everything under control," Wade said, and when he heard himself saying that he was not so sure if that was true. Maybe he really was the wrong man for this problem, but, what the hell, he would not give up and leave John alone - certainly not. The door slammed shut and the stillness showed that they were alone again ...
A voice in Wade's head told him that it was bad manners to shamelessly view an helpless, half-naked men, but he could not help myself ... John was like on the platter before him, and he had time to admire him in detail it from top to bottom. The narrow, well-toned sides, his strong upper arms, ... the flat belly, the tight legs ... But all this was nothing compared to Cena's face - even Michelangelo couldn't have drawn these traits better, as they shone softly in the bright daylight. So desperately Wade would have loved to feast on these delicately curved lips, hold those cheeks in his hands and cover the beautiful forehead with kisses ...
Wade noticed how goose bumps spread on Cena's body and he began to tremble slightly. At last he freed himself from his observer position, got up and rummaged around in John's luggage for clothes. As he clumsily put socks over Cena's feet, John had to laugh out - firstly because Wade behaved so stupidly, partly because the British accidentally tickled him.
"What the hell are you doing there?" He chuckled and looked at how Wade completed his work. "I dress you, you blockhead, because I see that you are cold."
For a few moments there was silence again, and John - with a gentle smile on his lips - was only too happy to let Wade's strong fingers dress him. Again and again he gave instructions, such as "head high" as he helped him to put on his shirt. When he said "ass up," to put on his boxer shorts, Cena looked at him skeptically. Wade rolled his eyes.
"I won't look, you silly schoolgirl," and so Cena obeyed - within minutes he was wrapped up again and felt comfortable in his skin. Wade looked proud of himself at his work and was glad he had not turned a piece of clothing upside down. Nevertheless, Cena still looked emaciated and weak when he was in these much too large clothes. Wade's compassion narrowed his arteries, squeezed his heart together painfully.
He had overcome the point of caring about ambiguity. He sat down next to Cena, said "Come over here ...", clasped John in his arms, held him protectively and reassuringly. John also seemed to have passed the point, to defend himself against any caress, and so Wade's warm, strong chest was more than welcome, he inhaled deeply Wade's scent, put his arms around him and covered his face. He felt with violent palpitation, that Wade's hands stroked his back gently again and again, and heated him up more and more. It calmed him down tremendously, to feel save and in good hands ... Since Wade was here, he felt much better, calmer and more composed.
TO BE CONTINUED