Jack squirmed uncomfortably, slouching over the side of the too small chair. Cesaro had dragged him into this and he could never find himself easily saying no to the older male. That stupid smile of his, that concerned gaze he gave and he stared at the black eye Jack had gotten from nearly crushing his nose.

Said older man was sat next to Jack, thumbing through some magazine as he sat upright, whistling to himself. Yeah, sure, he would be whistling…not like he had to sit through an awkward ass appointment, having to admit to himself he was getting old.

It was probably easier for Cesaro, Jack thought grumbly, shifting to cross his arms over his broad chest. The older male was only getting better with age, soft laugh lines, and he rocked the balding look like no one else. His body was in tiptop shape, too, not losing an ounce of muscle despite being out of the ring for months now.

And then there was Jack. Jack who just turned 34, was getting soft and grimacing when he yanked off all his clothes, the scale reflecting a cruel '302 lbs' back at him. More lines appeared across his forehead each morning it seemed, his skin feeling rougher, and apparently now he's going fucking blind. Thank God his hair wasn't thinning, still taking the numerous haircuts and bleaching like a champ, but his squishy and childlike cheeks and inability to grow more than two chest hairs pissed him off. Sure, give me all the crappy youthful things that no guy appreciates, but make sure his eyes go shot. Yay genetics. Lost in his bitterness and thoughts, Jack didn't notice his name being called until Cesaro nudges him.

"Want me to go back with you?" It's sincere and polite, as if Antonio is ever anything else, but Jack scuffs at him, pouting out his thick bottom lip before shaking his head.

"I'm not fuckin' 12, dude." The other man shrugged his shoulders defensively, but continues thumbing through his magazine, trying his hardest to not look hurt.

As Jack disappeared from the waiting room to have his eyes examined and to pick out a pair of frames, Antonio lets out a defeated sigh. He really wished the younger man would be more concerned for himself. It was for his own good, because he wants to nip this in the bud. The thought of Jack falling through a ladder wrong, overshooting a fall and hitting his head on something metal, god…it makes the Swiss man's skin crawl.

The following hour dragged on slightly, Antonio abandoning the magazine to fiddle with a neat little app Sami Zayn had shown him on his phone when Jack remerged, wide shoulders hunched over and brow pulled down tight.

Antonio said nothing to him, not wanting to overstep his boundaries, but the tension has built up too much in the car. After the incident a week ago, Cesaro refused to let the younger male drive when they're out together. He's positive that's pissed Jack off even more.

"I have…I can't pronounce it right." Jack said after a moment, hands a little shaky as he motions with his hands in front of his squinted eyes.

"Astigmatism." Cesaro supplied helpfully, his accent making the word a little difficult on his own tongue.

"…depth perception issue, yeah, and...I…I'm near sighted in one eye…far sighted in the other." It's said very clinically, but the Swiss man knows Jack too well. He knows there is nerves there, almost pain and it drives the older male mad because his friend shouldn't be hurting.

"It is alright, Jackie." That nickname was only used for respite from physical and verbal lashings from Zeb, but Cesaro can hear that tone…can know something is bothering the younger male deeply. "A lot of wrestlers need glasses. Seth does. Sasha, too." He tried his damnedest to sound reassuring, a cheerful tone overcoming his accent. "Heck, even I had to wear glasses for a little while."

"It's not the SAME!" Jack suddenly shouted and Cesaro stopped abruptly then, pulling over to the side of a slightly obscured road, the sun setting on the warm Florida day. "It's not…it's not the same…" He says quietly. "Seth and Sasha and you ain't getting fat, you're not…your careers aren't ending, you don't…you guys aren't aging like me, goddammit." He started to sob then and Cesaro's moving before his mind can even process the blond's words, wrapping his arms around that massive, quivering form as tears begin to fall.

"No, no, Jackie…don't say those things about yourself, please…" It was a soft coo, a plea because Jack shouldn't be feeling this way.

"Y-You guyth aren't uselethth like me…" Jack was blubbering then, completely disregarding how unmanly and even childish this might come off as. "…it isn't one more thing that fuckth you up. It isn't one more thing against you." Cesaro let him get it all out, letting the younger male babble. "It'th not one more strike because you were stupid and got high. It'th not one more thing for people to sneer at because you thpit when you talk…it'th not one more thing wrong with you." After his tirade, the words stop falling and now it's just soft sniffles and a few hiccupping breathes filling the car.

Cesaro cupped the back of Jack's neck, rubbing the freckled flesh there in hopes of helping him steady his breathing. "Look at me, Jack." The younger male shook his head and Antonio has lost all patience, not willing to give in this time, needing to push him as he tilts his strong jaw, forcing those wet blues to face his loving browns. He didn't think about how low and dark Jack's eyelashes looked from his crying or how beautiful his soft cheeks were in the fading sunlight. "You aren't useless. You are so dedicated and so talented."

"S-Stop…"

"No. You need to hear this." It's authoritative, Cesaro leaving no room for him to retort. "You are so strong. Even stronger than me. And so kind. You aren't useless and have so much to offer." He sighed then, his own breath growing shaky as he fights the urge to confess more than what he's willing to. Because he couldn't risk their friendship for his own selfish feelings. What he wouldn't give to kiss the tears out of delicate eyelids, to whisper kisses against thick thighs. But for now, all he can do is reassure his friend. "It doesn't matter if the fans don't see it, if WWE doesn't see it, you and I know it. Alright?"

Jack hesitated, Cesaro let go of his jaw and he nodded slowly.

"Good. Now no more of this nonsense about you being useless or old…none of that." He motioned with his hand, snapping his seatbelt back on before patting Jack's side gently. "I think there's a Dairy Queen around here…how about we go for ice cream?"

Jack snorted at that, wondering if Cesaro realized how much 'dadding' he was doing at the moment but the blond shoots him a small smile. "Uh, sure…"