John sat back in his seat and marveled at the wonders of alcohol and what it could do to a man. He was a little buzzed himself but not completely drunk. However, with what he was watching, he was seriously considering getting himself to that point.

Randy was on the dance floor of the club they had ended up at. John had been sitting at a table nearby, mouth open in surprise as he watched the man. Admittedly, he'd never gone out for drinks with Randy but still…he was pretty sure this wasn't normal behavior from him.

Randy was weaving through the other people on the floor…dancing. As John watched, he dipped the pretty blonde girl that had asked him to in the first place. It didn't just include the blonde, though. Randy pulled several women-and men-in. Apparently, three beers and a few shots of tequila turned the normally antisocial and violent young man a little…loose.

John could not keep his eyes off.

Randy was beautiful. John remembered thinking that before, years ago when he'd first met Randy but his attitude had ruined any sort of crush John might have developed back then. True, Randy had always been good looking, and he wasn't the only person who thought so, but he'd also been such a dick…

John couldn't help but to think it, though. In a too tight white tee-shirt, fitted jeans, shaking his ass on the dance floor…well, it was kind of hard not to appreciate that picture. John was of the opinion that Randy looked sexier than he did in next to nothing when he was in the ring.

John took another shot and shook his head because he really shouldn't be thinking those kinds of things. At least, not about Randy Orton. Going with his earlier plan, he went to order more drinks. He was still a little bit too sober for this.

Xxxxxxxxxx

If it could be said that tequila and beer made Randy Orton a little loose, it should also be said that the mix of the two made John Cena downright giddy and hyper…and also, it might have made him forget the fact that the guy he was dancing with, the guy who had dragged him out on the floor, had been his biggest enemy for years.

But, well, he was having fun. John grabbed onto that were he could. He'd never seen the need to take everything seriously and even if he should still hate Randy, he couldn't find it in himself to care. Not when he had drank enough alcohol to make him feel very, very good and not when he was having fun.

And if he only remembered his attraction from before when Randy's fingers brushed his skin…well, he could blame the alcohol.

And if he forgot to think at all when Randy spun him around to the sound of the song playing, oblivious to the people who may have been watching, he could blame that on the booze as well. Tequila had always made him a little stupid.

Randy's eyes were bright and completely not angry or cold. He bounced along to the upbeat music and repeatedly got into John's personal space.

They drank and they danced and John couldn't remember the last time he'd had so much fun.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Where's your room?" John asked. His voice was slurred from too much alcohol and he had to drag Randy along with him. Randy was several inches taller than him but at that moment he was bent, his arms wrapped tightly around John's chest and he had his head resting against John's side. John had one arm wrapped around Randy's shoulders. They lent their weight against each other, keeping themselves upright.

"Uh…" Randy paused and looked around the hall of the hotel. "Dunno." Randy was stumbling as they walked, even more drunk than John.

John didn't say anything to that, just pulled Randy to his own room, sure that if he didn't get to a bed soon that he'd end up laying down in the middle of the hallway and not getting up. They passed by a few people and somewhere in John's muddled brain, he thought that it wouldn't do any good for the rumors about he and Randy.

He managed to get both of them into his room and dropped down on his bed, hardly aware of Randy doing the same beside him, his arm never leaving John's waist as they both passed out.

Xxxxxxxxx

"Cena…" A pause so John could groan. "Time to get up." Someone shook him a little and John squinted his eyes open. He put hands on his pounding head.

"Shit…" He groaned again.

"I got you coffee," the voice informed him and John finally managed to open his eyes and lift his head.

"Randy?" He asked, staring up into gray eyes.

"Come on, man." Randy shook his leg. "Can't sleep the whole day."

"God…my head…" John let his head drop back.

"Yeah, figured." Randy shook a bottle of pills in his line of vision. "Get up. Shower, pills, coffee…you'll feel better."

John lifted up until he was resting on his elbows and squinted at Randy. "How are you not hung over?" He was pretty sure Randy had drank more than him last night.

"Been up for a few hours," Randy said with a shrug. "I've already spent time with the toilet," he admitted. "Actually, I've already taken a shower, a few of these," he handed over the bottle of pills, "you never moved." He seemed amused by these facts.

John struggled to sit up fully and glared at Randy. "You're not a morning person, are you?" he asked as he opened the bottle and shook out a few pills.

"It's not morning anymore," Randy informed him. "I just…don't ever sleep much."

"I'm usually a morning person," John said. "And with the amount of alcohol you consumed last night I'm surprised you didn't sleep all day."

Randy simply shrugged. "I never sleep that much. Not even with booze."

"Why not?" John asked, scrubbing hand through his hair with one hand and wrapping the other around his midsection in an attempt to quell the rising nausea.

"You gonna get up or what?" Randy ignored John's question but he did see a flash of something he couldn't recognize in the man's eyes that made him frown.

"Yeah, yeah," John answered gruffly.

Xxxxxxxxxx

Randy sat back on the bed as John shuffled his way into the bathroom. A frown formed on his face as he thought about the night before. He'd had fun. He hadn't had fun like that in years. Not even with the alcohol helper.

Still, even with how much he'd had to drink and with the atmosphere of the night before…he still hadn't been able to sleep like he should have. He hadn't been able to pull that off in years.

And he wasn't…a morning person, that was. He wasn't usually an any time of day person. Generally, his bad mood followed him around from the time he woke up until he went to sleep. He'd begun to think that would never change.

He'd made some sort of peace with who he was. With the fact that he'd never be happy or a good person.

But the night before…the night before he had been. For a few hours, drinking and dancing with John Cena…he'd been happy. It should have been weird or even scary but it was neither. He just wanted that feeling back. He wanted it to last.

Xxxxxxxx

Randy was right, of course. John felt much better after the shower, and after changing clothes. He'd passed out in the clothes he'd gone to the club in. He hated that. He woke up feeling sweaty and dirty.

When he finally made it out of the bathroom, Randy was still sitting against the headboard of his bed, seemingly lost in thought.

"Hey." John slapped Randy's leg on his way past. "You wanna go get breakfast."

After a moment a smile-a real one-broke out on Randy's face and he nodded. "Sure."

Xxxxxxxx

Breakfast was not as awkward as John would have expected. Randy dug in like he hadn't eaten in days and John couldn't help but to watch him a little. He'd had fun the night before, he could admit that and Randy wasn't bad company when he wasn't trying to kick someone's head off.

John had never been a fan of over analyzing himself or others. He was a big believer in going with the flow. And, hey, if this new…thing whatever it was, because he wouldn't even call it friendship yet, between he and Randy kept the man from trying to end John's career…

For the first time since he met Randy, John wondered how he'd turned out like he was. Over the past couple of weeks, John had gotten glimpses of another Randy Orton. One that would come down to the ring and keep another person from getting double teamed. One that could loosen up and have a little fun.

John idly wondered if there had ever been a time when Randy was like that more than just every so often. Shaking his head, John tried to stop those thoughts, tried to go back to his vow of not trying to analyze the person sitting across from him.

They had a nice breakfast and by the time they parted ways, John's opinion of Randy had been altered even further.

Xxxxxxxxx

Like he always was before the big show, John was hyped up and nervous. He simply could not sit still. He glanced, every so often, at the small television screen situated to his left that showed what was happening in the ring. The show hadn't officially started yet, however.

He was pacing the floor, his thoughts on his match with Batista when the door to the locker room opened and Randy strolled in. He was already in his ring gear and he seemed just as agitated as John. He only glanced John's way before moving to sit on the bench.

John raised an eyebrow and his thoughts went from his match to Randy's. "Worried?"

Randy's head snapped up and he frowned. "Why would I be worried?"

John shrugged. "Because you're basically going into a handicapped match," he pointed out. The match between Cody, Ted, and Randy was supposed to be a triple threat but John seriously doubted it would play out that way.

"I'm not worried," Randy stated. John kind of believed him. He didn't look worried, only angry.

"You better be careful. You know they're not going to play fair."

Randy raised an eyebrow. "You almost sound like you're worried, Cena."

"Yeah, I know." John shook his head, bewildered. "Strange, huh?"

A small smile crossed Randy's face and his eyes softened momentarily. "Yeah."

And John, well, he couldn't help but to smile himself.