Meanwhile, at the exact same time, at some other location…

John was smiling when he made it to the arena for the house show. He'd had a good week, he supposed and he was more than ready to admit that it was mostly due to Randy. After waking up next to Randy on that couch, he'd stayed several hours and they'd talked more.

In fact, John had had a great time with Randy. They'd ate breakfast and gone out, spent a lot of time together.

Randy was supposed to be there for the house show. He wasn't scheduled to compete at it but he'd asked John if he could be there, if they could go out after it and John had agreed pretty easily. He couldn't ignore it any longer, couldn't ignore the growing attraction or that Randy had been telling the truth. He was a different person.

"Hey," Randy said when he made it to the locker room.

"Hey, you're here," John said with a grin.

"I said I would be," Randy pointed out. "I figured I could wait here and we could go out after your match."

"Sounds good to me," John answered. He was scheduled for a tag match with Punk.

"I still don't get why you're friends with that guy," Randy commented when John told him about the match, watching John as he laced up his shoes.

John's smile only widened. "Yeah, he doesn't get why I would want to hang out with you either."

The tag match was one big mess, mostly due to Punk and Ziggler and their continued games with each other. Although, watching Ziggler jump off the top rope with a kite on his back had been pretty damned funny, even if he didn't read comics, so hadn't known the exact significance of that particular costume.

Also, he may have landed a bit wrong on the outside when Swagger back dropped him over the top rope. He got right back up, did his best to ignore the pain in his back, knew he'd managed it when Punk didn't catch on that he was in pain.

Mercifully, the match ended quickly after that and he was able to escape back into his locker room. He immediately sat on the bench, reaching around with one hand on his back, a groan escaping him.

"You okay?"

Randy's voice startled him and he looked up, forced a smile. "Yeah, just tweaked my back a bit."

Randy's brow furrowed in concern. "We don't have to go out," he offered, sitting next to John and putting a hand on his shoulder.

"No, no. I'm fine." But he let out a hiss when he tried to straighten up again and Randy rolled his eyes.

"Yeah, sure. We're going back to the hotel."

John chewed his lip and looked over at him. "Sorry."

"Don't be," Randy said with a smile. "You need some help with your shirt?" He offered, the concern still shining in his eyes, causing John's smile to return.

"It's not that bad." In fact, he managed a shower and getting dressed on his own. His muscles were decidedly sore by the time they made it back to the hotel, though.

"You want to come up to my room?" Randy offered, and there was that hopeful look in his eyes. The one that John simply couldn't say no to.

"Sure."

Fifteen minutes later, John was stretched out on his stomach on Randy's bed while they watched a football game on TV. Randy, John thought, wasn't as into the sport as he was but he'd settled onto it anyway, John suspected because Randy knew he was into it.

He had reached back again, to press on his lower back when Randy spoke up. "You want me to do something for that?" He offered.

"What can you do for it?" John asked curiously and was surprised when Randy moved over to him.

"Take off your shirt," Randy requested first.

"What?" John nearly choked on the word.

"Trust me."

John studied him a moment, considered this before he sat up and pulled off his shirt. Strangely enough, he did trust Randy. Randy had proven that he could wait, had proven that he wasn't as unstable as John thought he was.

Still, he was once again surprised when, after he lay back down on his stomach, Randy crawled on top of him, settling back on John's thighs. Then his hands were on John's back, kneading the muscles there and John closed his eyes with a groan.

Randy's hands worked their way up and down John's back, working out the ache in his muscles and John wondered just where Randy had learned to do that because he was most definitely good at it. John was fully relaxed when Randy put a hand on his shoulder and turned him over on his back.

Randy hovered over him, his eyes full of an emotion that John definitely understood. "John…" He leaned close then, his lips brushing John's lightly before he started to pull away.

John, however, relaxed from the message and finally admitting to himself that this thing with Randy might not be as bad of an idea as he had thought it would be brought his hands up to the side of Randy's face and pulled him back down.

The kiss was slow but deep and John's hands trailed down Randy's back. Randy pulled away only to take his own shirt off and his own hands trailed down John's chest, his stomach, down towards his pants.

There was a question in his eyes when he reached John's belt buckle and, when John nodded, he dipped back down. The last thought on his mind was I win but he wasn't thinking of the wager at that moment.