John was riding a high after his match with Batista. The kind of high he always got after a win during a main event. The kind of high he always got when he was able to throw the WWE title over his shoulder and know that he'd earned that privilege.

The smile on his face was wide and he'd thought nothing could wipe it away…until he made his way backstage and heard the voices coming from the locker room. The door was open and John had been about to walk in when he stopped short at the familiar voices.

"You gave him a concussion." The anger in Ted DiBiase's voice was clear.

"And you care?" There was disdain in Randy's. "Looked to me like you two had your own little break up in front of everyone."

"You could have seriously hurt him. After everything you've done-"

"Everything I've done?" John could clearly hear the rage building behind Randy's words as he continued. "I didn't force you into Legacy, you or Cody. The two of you had no problem following my lead for almost two years."

"You're a psycho-"

"Walk away now, Teddy," Randy's growl cut him off. "Stop acting like such a fucking victim and walk the fuck away or I'll make you a victim."

John rounded the corner finally, stopping in the entrance of the room. Neither man noticed him. Ted spoke up again before John could announce his presence.

"We weren't-"

"You weren't what? None of this was your idea? I forced you into all that?" Randy grabbed the sides of Ted's face in a bruising grip. "I didn't force you into anything," he repeated. "Stop pretending you're innocent and leave me the fuck alone." He emphasized the point by shaking Ted before pushing him away.

"Am I interrupting?" John asked, finally alerting the other two men of the fact that they weren't alone. Ted turned his scowl on John before pushing past him to leave. John raised an eyebrow. Randy was still tense after Ted left, still angry. He had changed out of his ring gear and taken a shower after his match, which had been near the beginning of the show.

"What are you still doing here?" John asked. His own match had been the last one of the night, about two hours after Randy's.

John was surprised when the anger drained from Randy's eyes at the question and he actually looked a little embarrassed, red coloring his cheeks. John's jaw nearly dropped at the blush and he couldn't help but think that it was kind of adorable.

"I was just…hanging around."

"Hanging around?" John asked skeptically. Randy didn't have any friends backstage that he knew of.

Randy shrugged a little sheepishly. "I may have been waiting," he admitted reluctantly.

"For me?" John clarified, a smile forming on his face.

"Maybe," Randy answered with a roll of his eyes. "I figured we could go grab a drink. You did just win the title back," he pointed out.

"What if I'd lost?"

"Commiseration?" Randy said, a little bit of a question in his voice.

John smiled wide enough that his dimples showed. "Aw, you do care about me." He walked forward, attempting to wrap his arms around Randy who, to his surprise, only held him back with a smile of his own.

"Go get cleaned up, dork."

Xxxxxxxx

Pizza, beer, and si-fi. Normally, John liked to go out but after the adrenaline rush had worn off from his match, the aches and pains had made themselves known. So, instead of suggesting the club not far from their hotel, he'd asked Randy if he wanted to hang out there.

Randy had been pretty accepting of the idea. It was how they both ended up back in John's ridiculously huge hotel room in front of the television. Randy plopped himself down on the floor, back against the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him, allowing John to stretch himself out on the couch. John suspected Randy had noticed the aches John had been attempting to hide and had sat on the floor for just that reason. Randy hadn't said anything about it but John was still grateful-and a little surprised-at the gesture.

Randy had, of course, snagged the remote before John could and had flipped through the channels until he found a movie he liked. John was highly delighted to find out about Randy's secret love of all things Star Trek. John couldn't stop a smile as Randy mouthed the lines from The Voyage Home.

"I bet everyone would be delighted to know that The Viper is a closet Trekkie," John commented.

"You wouldn't tell," Randy commented without turning away from the screen.

"Why not?"

Randy simply shrugged in return but he seemed pretty confident about it and he was right. John wouldn't tell. The unguarded glimpses he'd gotten of Randy over the past several weeks were something he hadn't spoken to anyone about.

He'd been asked, sure, but he hadn't answered. The little details that never failed to surprise John remained between he and Randy.

Xxxxxxxxx

"You like a lot of nineties rock?" John asked idly, eyes trained on Randy, who had leaned his head back against the couch. He'd had a few beers and his eyes were half closed. He was comfortably tired and it was making his lips a little loose.

He shrugged at the question. "Spent my teenage years in the nineties," he pointed out.

"What's your favorite band from the nineties?" John pressed, well aware that he might have been taking a little bit advantage of the mood brought on by the beer and the fact that they should both probably be in bed.

"Bush," Randy reluctantly answered after a moment.

"Bush?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.

Randy shrugged again. "My first ever crush, man. I got tickets to go see them. Fourteen years old and the moment Gavin Rossdale came out on stage, I was so fucking in love. It was when I realized that girls didn't really do it for me."

"You've known that since you were fourteen?" John asked in amazement. It had taken him a lot longer to realize it. Granted, he had gone for girls, he'd just tried to ignore the fact that boys did it for him too. He'd gone through the whole denial-angst-acceptance stages himself.

"Kinda hard to ignore, I guess. I mean, girls really didn't do it for me. Never have."

"Huh." John was silent for a moment before he continued on the way he had been before. "So…favorite movie?"

Xxxxxxxxx

Somehow, Randy had ended up on the couch with him. They were facing each other, pressed up against the arms of the couch, legs sort of tangled together. They'd gone through most of the beer John had picked up and while neither was drunk, they were both buzzed enough to relax.

"Did you date in high school?" John asked.

Randy snorted. "Kids aren't really all that accepting of that sort of thing. Or at least they weren't in my school."

"So, what? You were a loner in school too? They knew?"

"There's only so many excuses you can make on why you won't go out," Randy stated. "Sides, I wasn't exactly the sex symbol I am now."

John rolled his eyes. "Well, good to know your ego got out intact."

Xxxxxxx

John had to suppress a groan when he slowly woke. There was a weight pressing against his chest and the pains from his match the night before hadn't completely abated. They wouldn't until he got a chance to work them out, something he would do before RAW that night.

He glanced to the side, to the clock and was mildly surprised at how early it was. It was still an hour and a half before he absolutely had to wake up and get ready.

The weight on his chest was revealed when he glanced down. Randy's head was resting above his heart, rising and falling with his breathing and one of Randy's arms had made its way around John's midsection.

John frowned. He vaguely remembered suggesting they get some sleep at one point the night before and he remembered offering to let Randy stay the night. He didn't remember how they'd gotten to their current position and figured it had happened while they both slept.

He considered waking Randy but…his alarm was set on his phone, they still had a couple of hours and, he decided, it wasn't entirely uncomfortable. He settled back down and drifted back to sleep with a small smile on his face.