The flight the next day is not too long, two and a half hours at most. Randy and Evan are sitting at the back of the plane, getting ready for takeoff. Evan had graciously offered to sit in the window seat, knowing that the larger man would have a more comfortable time being able to stretch his legs out in the aisle.
The plane is beginning its ascent when Randy pulls out his iPod, ready to possibly sleep away the whole flight when he notices that Evan is fiddling with the hem of his shirt nervously.
"You doing okay over there?" his deep voice cuts through the noise of the jet engine.
"Ummm yeah, I think so," Evan looks up at him, "I'm not so great with planes."
Randy just looks at the smaller man amusedly, "You can do a back flip fifteen feet in the air with nothing holding you up, but you're afraid of flying?"
"I'm not afraid of flying," Evan replies indignantly, "I just don't like planes."
As if there is a huge distinction between the two, he looks at Randy pointedly, who just shakes his head and smiles.
"So just take a nap or something; it won't be long before we're back on the ground."
"Yeah, ok," Evan agrees, bunching a sweatshirt up under his head before settling into his seat and closing his eyes, trying to relax.
Randy pops his earbuds in and switches on his music. He can't help but glance over at Evan now that he knows he can look at him closely. He has pale, creamy looking skin, offset nicely by his dark hair and brows. He cheeks are slightly reddened, possibly from nervousness, and his pink lips are parted a bit as he breathes deeply.
Evan's biceps bulge under the sleeves of his t-shirt and Randy knows from watching ECW and training that the younger man has an amazing body; all hard, cut muscle. But right now it's his face that Randy can't stop staring at. He just seems so young and innocent and the Legend Killer kind of just wants Evan to cuddle up to him and not let go.
He doesn't know what to do about these thoughts; if he should act on them and what he should do if he decides to approach the younger man. His brain is on overdrive and he can't fall asleep the entire flight. Evan is out the whole time and Randy doesn't wake him until they land.
Evan yawns and stretches, and grabbing his bag he sleepily follows Randy off the plane. Randy practically has to lead him through the airport to a cab and into the hotel. Apparently once Evan has been sleeping, he's useless until he has time to sufficiently wake up.
"So," Randy starts as they enter their room and drop down on their respective beds, "You don't like planes. Anything else I should know about the esteemed Evan Bourne?"
Evan grins and kicks off his sneakers. He pulls a pillow from under the comforter and curls around it before answering, "I dunno. You first. Tell me something no one knows about the WWE Champ."
"How about . . . when I was getting my sleeves done, I cried a little because it hurt so badly."
"No way!" Evan exclaims, "Come on, you're like, the toughest guy ever."
"True fact," Randy shrugs, "But if you ever tell anyone that, I'll deny it and then I'll have to kill you."
"I promise I won't tell."
"Okay, so I shared a secret. Your turn."
Evan's brow furrows as if he is thinking incredibly hard, "Okay . . . I'm gay."
Randy sits up in shock, his back rigidly straight, "Are you serious?!"
"Yeah," Evan says shyly, tensing up as if he's about to jump up and run at any moment, "I figured since we're sharing a room I should tell you cause some guys wouldn't like that. I can leave if you-"
"No!" Randy says a bit too loudly, and then composes himself, "It's okay, really. I don't care if you're gay. I'm glad you told me."
Evan visibly relaxes, "I have to tell you, I've gotten some of the worst reactions so . . . thanks."
Randy's heart sinks at that statement. He can only imagine how some people might have treated Evan after finding that out. It's so unfair too because Evan is such a great person and he doesn't deserve anything like that.
"Don't worry about it, kid. If you ever need anything, I'm here for ya."
And Randy truly believes that he means ianything/i when it comes to Evan.
Evan nods and with a small smile on his face he falls asleep with Randy watching over him. What had started as an innocent conversation had turned into a life changing moment, at least for the older man. Everything he has been feeling and thinking about; now he has something to work with. But it's not everything; he still really doesn't know Evan that well and he doesn't want to hurt the younger man.
And he had thought that women were complicated.
The next few days pass without incident, for they are just filled with eating, sleeping, work outs, and practice. Before Evan knows it, it's Monday night and he is going to debut on the biggest show in the WWE.
People are throwing advice at him from every direction, but for the most part he tries to focus on Randy's deep, calming voice that had been issuing instruction and praise during their practice sessions.
When they play his music and he makes his way down the ramp, it's like a switch in his brain goes on and he is running on pure instinct. He takes note of Randy's reaction when he comes out and he can't help think that the older man is such a good actor. The moves are ingrained in his mind and the only thing that throws him a bit is remembering which turnbuckle to stand on so the camera gets a good shot of him.
He sells Randy's finisher as well as he can, which doesn't involve too much faking because he does really get slammed face first into the canvas from the top rope and there is no way for them to execute the move without causing a good deal of pain.
And it's seemingly over as quickly as it began, with him limping off in defeat while Randy waits in the ring for Jack to come out. Evan slips back to an empty locker room, sitting down to catch his breath a bit before grabbing a towel to wipe most of the sweat off of his body.
He hears a roar from outside and assumes that Mark has made his entrance, prompting such a reaction from the huge crowd. Leaning over to undo his boots, he hears the door swing open, but doesn't think much of it. Other superstars had been using the room, including Randy, and had left a bunch of stuff lying around.
It's only when he gets both boots off that he notices that a shadow has fallen over him. The person is standing right in front of him and he looks up, about to ask what they want, but he never gets the chance.
The person backhands him across the face so forcefully that he ends up sprawled on the floor. He sputters angrily and looks up at his attacker, only to see Mike hovering over him.
"You're such a weak little bitch," Mike spits, "Why they let you face Orton I'll never know. You know you're just here to make the rest of us look good."
He swings a foot into Evan's exposed abdomen, making the younger man curl in pain, trying to protect the area. He barely notices as the door opens again and Jack saunters in, clad in his street clothes.
"You started without me," Jack pouts and then drives a foot down on Evan's chest, "Orton won't mess with us or we'll just fuck him up too."
"That's right," Mike agrees, confident without the Legend Killer around to hear him, "I don't know why he bothers. This little shit doesn't even deserve to wrestle."
Jack's eyes light up and he leans closer to Mike to tell him something. Evan can't hear what he is saying, but he knows it can't be good. And he can't get away, Jack's huge foot is still pressing him into the floor and he is wheezing to draw in breath.
Suddenly, Jack lifts his foot away and crouches down by Evan's bare feet, grabbing the left one in his massive hands. Mike faces Jack and straddles Evan's hip, sitting on them before grabbing a tight hold of Evan's left thigh.
And Evan realizes that they're going to break his leg. He panics wildly, trying to roll over or pull away or do anything that will loosen their grip on him. He screams for help as loudly as he can. They're trying to end his career. He swings his fists at Mike's back and hears the larger man grunt in pain as he tries to keep his hands on the flailing young man.
Jack is about to twist his lower leg, when the door opens again, this time with a loud bang.
All three of them twist to see who it is and there, in the doorway, is Randy. Sweaty, wearing only his ring attire, and absolutely seething. He is clenching his fists and his blue eyes look wild, targeting the two men that are hurting his friend.
And before anyone can say anything, Randy charges.
