o

Randy stared at him, anger morphing to confusion to utter disbelieve, before turning away to walk over to the couch. With a heavy sigh he dropped onto the cushions, resting his head against the back of the couch. He felt suddenly very, very tired.

"Don't get me wrong, John, but you're drunk and it's late. Let's get some sleep and I promise to tell you everything, okay?"

"I feel sober enough and you can sleep later," John said, as he walked over to Randy, sitting down beside him.

"You're unbelievable," Randy muttered, defeated.

Side-gazing the younger man he waited for him to begin his report, but Randy only stared at the ceiling, lips pressed together in a thin line. Randy plucked at the cushion absentmindedly and after a few moments John took hold of his hand to stop him, making his friend tense.

"Didn't want to startle you, but you're making me nervous," the older man explained.

"I'm sorry," Randy murmured. "For everything."

John nodded but kept silent, waiting for his friend to continue.

"Yesterday morning… I told Sam everything."

"You already said that. But if she didn't kick you out, why…?"

Randy held up his free hand, silencing John. The older man noticed that Randy made no move to pull his hand out of Johns hold. It was good. It felt good and John decided to keep Randys hand as long as his friend would let him.

"She was hurt and angry but she told me that she would give me a second chance because I cheated on her with a man, not with a woman. She said that I obviously needed something a woman couldn't give me and now, that I've had my fun, we could go back to being a normal family."

"Okay… but I still don't why you didn't take that second chance with her? You could have…"

"John… she insisted that I quit being friends with you."

Johns breath hitched and he felt a lump grow in his throat. Going back to being only friends, yes. Quit being friends… no. A life without his Randy? Never. Not possible. No way…

"Probably… you shouldn't have told her… She wouldn't have known and…" he muttered.

"No, John. Decisions and consequences. I decided to make a move on you because I wanted you. It was my decision. You know what? When you left the bus I was so damn confused… and began to brood. And things… fell into place. When you tried to kiss me I didn't let it happen because sex is one thing, but kisses… are something I only share with someone I'm in love with. Kisses are too intimate and I didn't want us to be more than just friends who have some fun. Then Sam told me to give you up and I realized…"

Randy fell silent, his gaze falling on their hands. John didn't dare to move, not even when he felt his friends hand move to intertwine their fingers and his heart jumped happily in his chest at the gesture. Randys tanned skin and Johns paler one looked ridiculously like Yin and Yang, the older man noticed.

"You know, I couldn't. I stood there, facing the mother of my daughter and the idea of a life without Sam hurt, but I simply couldn't imagine my life without you. No way."

"Alanna needs her parents," John somehow managed to say, completely and utterly shocked about this revelation.

John began to wonder if he was lying somewhere on the floor, comatose, and this was a alcohol intoxication induced hallucination. Well, it would be a pretty nice way to go, right?

"Yes, she does, but not the way it would be if my decision would have been to stay with Sam."

"What did you tell Alanna when you left?"

Randy flinched and John was immediately sorry for obviously causing him pain.

"She's with Sams parents since last week. We planned on being there on New Year's Eve, so… she doesn't know… Sam said she would tell her that I have to work. I'm gonna call Sam tomorrow and then we'll see…"

John watched the pained expression in those well-known, beloved icy eyes. He knew there was nothing more important in this world to Randy than his little sunshine and that this whole situation must be unbearably torturing for his friend. And he couldn't help but feel like Randy hadn't told him everything yet. He decided not to dig deeper right now though. Or to tell Randy that he felt way more than just friendship for him. Randy knew it anyway, John guessed.

He held Randys hand a little tighter instead and whispered: "You can count on me, no matter what. You know that, right?"

He tried to put his whole heart in those few words to make Randy know, feel that he was not alone. The younger man looked up, nodding slightly.

"Thanks, Johnny," he replied quietly.

They looked at each other for a few heartbeats, like that first night at the hotel… unable to look away…

"Uhm," Randy cleared his throat, "it would be great if I could crash on your couch for a few days until I find a new apartment?"

The older man frowned.

"Why the couch? You know I have a guest room."

"Well, if I take the guest room I know I'll be too comfortable to find a new place anytime soon. So, the couch is great."

John arched an eyebrow, searching his friends face.

"Don't be ridiculous, Randy. One, I'm sure as hell not gonna watch you sleep on that couch when there's a guest room with a comfortable bed. Two, I'm not planning on having any guests in the near future anyway. Three, if it takes you a while to find a new place, so it be. You're NOT sleeping on the couch, you got me?"

Randy nodded again and a little smile grew on his handsome face. It was a genuine, relieved and somehow incredibly cute smile that made Johns heart flutter.

"Am I allowed to go and grab some sleep now?"

"Sure. Let's get your bed ready. But we're not done talking yet," John stated as he got up, sighing silently when he had to let go of Randys hand.

"Sir, yes, Sir," the younger man muttered fondly and rolled his eyes, but followed his friend to the guest room upstairs.

o

Sleep was far away though. Tossing and turning John tried to drift into oblivion but without success and for the last two hours his eyes were constantly seeking his alarm clock on the nightstand.

The whole thing was somehow surreal. You realize that you have a crush on your best friend - bad enough - who happens to be a man – not quite better - and married and a father and who is that for not available on the relationship market. Okay. Really bad thing to do. And suddenly this best friend tells you that he broke up with his wife because he couldn't imagine his life without you. Ooookay. Like some bad movie plot, right? Now what? Where did all this leave them?

It wasn't that easy. For one thing, up to this night he'd tried to avoid thinking about it too much, fearing he would realize it WAS more than just a crush. All he had wanted was to bury those obviously growing feelings for Randy. He could scrap this now. But summing up everything that had happened and what he felt and wanted… adding some common sense… there was no way denying it – he was head over heels in love…

Next thing, even if this was mutual, it sure as hell wasn't the right time to analyze it any further. Randy had to deal with enough shit right now. And… there was still a small chance that he would decide to go back to Sam and Alanna.

He hoped that Randy wouldn't, but it wasn't a good idea to put too much heart in it right now. Right? Right.

Then why can't I stop hoping he's gonna stay?

John huffed bitterly and crawled out of his bed. He'd lost the battle already the moment he tried to find some sleep and started to think instead.

Shuffling over to the guest room, he found the door a crack open and slipped in. It was almost completely dark since the blinds were barely open, but the little light that slipped through was enough for him to make out Randys sprawled form on the bed, seemingly fast asleep.

He stood and watched, listening to the even breaths of his friend, not sure what to do. It wasn't fair to wake Randy for no reason, since they could talk later and he was about to turn around and go back to his own room, when Randy murmured his name. The unexpected sound in the silence made him jump.

"Sorry, didn't wanna wake you," John apologized.

"You didn't. I was already awake. Can't sleep. You?"

"No."

Silence fell again for a few moments, until Randy spoke again.

"I was so damn arrogant…"

Randys voice was heavily laced with sadness, guilt and anger in the darkness, making John want to hold his friend close and tell him that everything would be alright again. But he stayed where he was and kept quiet, waiting for whatever was about to come.

"I hurt Sam and you, just because I thought I could have it all. I didn't even lose a damn single thought about the consequences."

Maybe it was the cover of the darkness or probably he couldn't bear it any longer to keep it to himself, but Randy started to tell John what he obviously hadn't wanted to before they went to bed.

"Sam is good looking, intelligent, funny, caring, I always loved her. But with her I always have to be the perfect husband. With you it's different. There was a moment when I looked at you and suddenly… huh… I don't know how long I tried to bury these feelings… When I'm with you, everything is so easy. You make me feel alive," the younger man explained quietly, guilt and anger washed away from his voice, leaving only sadness behind.

"I… uhm…" John stammered, trying to say something but failed miserably.

Randy only barked a mirthless little laugh, just like he hadn't notice Johns poor attempt of a reply.

"It's weird, but one moment your annoying attitudes make me want to punch some sense into you and the next moment you calm me down just like that. I can snap and I don't need to think twice if you feel threatened. You put up with my temper and my foul moods. You make me laugh, even in the shittiest situations. Hell, there were times when everything came crashing down on me, but you were there, picking up the pieces and making me whole again. I can be who I really am… I found myself craving for your attention in every way possible… I… huh… I fell in love with you somewhere along the line and tried to deny it the whole time. I guess… I never loved her as much as I love you…"

Randy paused, maybe now waiting for John to finally say something, but John still couldn't. He was simply rendered speechless. Standing here in the darkness, listening to the younger mans heavy, hitching breaths – was Randy crying? – his mind tried to process and accept Randys revelations.

He loves me… he left Sam because he loves me…

His sad little heart jumped in joy. Wasn't this what he'd wished for? Exactly that? Yeah. Hell, yeah! Then why the hell couldn't he believe it? Why the hell wasn't he able to say or do anything? Wasn't this the moment were he should jump right into that bed and kiss Randy senseless, like he'd wanted to al the time? To tell him that he loved, damn, really really loved him?

"I… can you please say something? I mean, if you hate me know, it's okay. I don't deserve any better," Randy said quietly, his voice close to fail him. "I just want you to know that I'm sorry. So damn sorry for everything. I never wanted to hurt you, Johnny. All I wanted was to be close to you…"

His voice broke and there it was again, those heavy, hitching breaths. John was sure now that Randy was crying and he felt a painful sting in his chest. He'd seen his friend cry before, but every time it was shocking to John, making him suffer with his friend…

Oh, Randy…

"I don't hate you, Randy. God, don't ever think that," John finally managed to say. "It's just…We've been friend for such a long time and after years of having a crush on you and after the past month of more than just friendship I found myself wanting more. I thought I could stop myself but instead I realize that I'm in love with my best friend. The one person I can't have. And I have to admit that I've wished I could forget the way I feel about you. It would have been so much easier, so much less painful. But suddenly you're there, telling me that you left your family to be with me?"

His whole mind and body screamed to crawl into that bed and wrap himself around the man he was longing for, to hold him close and never ever let go. But no, not now, not yet. John willed himself to stay were he was until… yeah, until… what? Until he was sure Randy would stay? How could he be sure? He hugged himself, feeling insecure. A rare occurrence that was fortunately sheltered by the darkness.

"You don't know how much I wished this to happen. But now I'm somehow afraid… that if I let this happen now, if I put my heart on the line, you'll decide to got back to Sam and I'll be alone again. It would kill me. I don't know if I can do this."

As he stood there, feeling all insecure and vulnerable, he hoped that Randy would say something to make him believe that this was real, that it would work out. Closing his eyes he hoped, wished, begged silently for Randy to understand…

"You really love me?" Randy wanted to know, his low voice somehow loud in the darkness even as he whispered.

"So much it hurts."

Please make the pain stop…

John heard his friend taking a few deep breaths, obviously to calm down.

"I'm not going back. I'm not going to leave you, okay? I'm here because I want and need to be here," Randy reassured him. "I'm here because I love you, John."

His voice begged John to believe him, wrapping itself like a soft embrace of silk around Johns heart, soothing his pain. And John…

If not now…

… believed.

What could he loose? Everything. What could he gain? Everything and more. This was a step of believe…

"And… where does all this leave us?"

John knew it wasn't a fair question to ask. At least not now. Still, he couldn't stop himself from asking it. After all that had happened tonight and what had been said, he needed to ask, needed to know.

Instead of an answer he heard the rustling of bedcovers and saw Randy get up, padding over to were John stood. When the younger man stopped in front of him, they were close enough for John to make out the light blue eyes that wore a guarded expression, close enough to feel his friends warm breath on his face. And wasn't there a faint shimmer of tears on the tanned skin, silently asking to be taken care of, to be wiped away gently? But like so often this night John hesitated.

Then Randy reached out to cup Johns face with both hands and John felt frozen to the spot as his friend leaned in to place a kiss on his lips. Randys lips felt warm and so very soft against Johns. First only a touch of lips Randy began to deepen the kiss, softly running his tongue over Johns bottom lip, asking for permission that John gave. It was a tentative and shy kiss. In his need for comfort and touch, John reached up and buried his fingers in Randys shirt, pulling him a little closer, while he marvelled about how achingly good and right those lush lips on his own felt, how addictive Randy tasted.

The kiss didn't last very long and when it ended, they were standing close, bodies touching lightly, with Johns fingers still buried in Randys shirt, holding on for dear life. Randy rested his forehead against Johns.

"I think this is were it leaves us," the younger man whispered, his voice raw with emotions.

John moved even closer, pressing their bodies together.

Amazed about how their bodies fit together, he whispered back: "I think I like that. Very, very much."

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna need you to help me tie up the loose ends of my life, Johnny. I'll need some time… Let's make this a new start."

"Means I'll have to ask you for a date?" John chuckled quietly.

"Yeah, exactly. You gonna have to whine and dine me. And I want a really good restaurant, not some cheap diner. Oh, and no sex until I'm sure that you not just want my body."

John smiled at the amusement-laced sound of his friends voice, though he knew Randy meant it. This was a complete reset. There would be dates and no sex at least for a while, which was okay, since he knew there would be incredible and mind-numbing sex in the future. Yeah, there would be – Randy wasn't the celibate-type-of-guy. And he really wanted this to work out. He knew it because in this very moment, with the perspective of having a real relationship with Randy, with all the ups and downs, he didn't feel like something was missing – right now he felt complete.

"As long as you allow me to be there for you and to hold you close I'm fine with anything," he said seriously.

Running a thumb along Johns jaw gently, Randy replied: "I hoped you'd say that. You don't know how much, Johnny."

John leaned into the touch, savouring the feeling of it, before he let go of Randys shirt and took hold of his hand instead, kissing his palm lightly.

"We both need to get some sleep. Let's got back to bed," he said and turned to leave, although everything in him protested against the loss of Randys touch, but it was probably the best to give him some time for himself… just in case…

Randy for his part obviously didn't think like that. John hadn't even reached the door, when Randy called his name. The normally strong, full voice sounded somehow small and afraid, making his name sound like a plea. John turned back immediately, not used to hear his name spoken like this.

"Stay. Please?" Randy asked in that small voice. "I… don't wanna be alone tonight."

John had an idea of what Randy meant. He was afraid that everything would come crashing down on him. The full extend of everything that had happened and would happen.

Sometimes the night could be a true friend, taking away the weight of problems, making everything seem so easy. But sometimes the night could be hell, when it turned all your fears and problems into a suffocating vision of a torturing future. John knew it. All too well.

"Hey, it's okay, Randy. I know. I'm staying," John murmured, padding back to his friend, leading him back to the bed.

They slipped under the blanket and settled into a comfortable position, face to face and legs entangled.

"Try to sleep. I'm not going anywhere," John assured him. "Promise."

Then he kissed Randys forehead, an innocent and infinitely tender gesture, before he pulled him closer, wrapping his arms around his friend. And like this, with Randys head tucked under his chin and his warm body wrapped up safely in Johns arms, Randy finally found some sleep. John felt Randys heartbeat calm down, heard how his breaths evened out and smiled, realizing that he'd managed to give Randy some peace.

Wasn't it weird…? Up until tonight John had desperately wished for someone or something to give him some peace. Him, who was hopelessly in love. And now? Now he was the one, giving peace and comfort.

His eyes caught a glimpse of the night sky through the blinds, making him remember about the falling star and his wish. He mouthed a silent Thank you to the stars, before his eyes found their way back to Randy.

John stayed awake for a while, watching over his friend and thinking again about the future, until he slipped into the first peaceful sleep after weeks himself.

o

It was already around 11 a.m. when awareness crept back into Johns mind and kicked him out of a fitful sleep. His hand roamed the place at his side and found it disappointingly empty but warm, telling him that Randy had left only a short while ago. He blinked himself a little more awake, rolled out of the bed and checked his condition – his head pounded and he felt a little wobbly, but at least he didn't feel like throwing up or something like that.

John hit the shower, got himself a few painkillers against the base-drum in his head and brushed his teeth with devotion, trying to wash away the nasty taste of morning breath and stale alcohol.

The he padded back to his own room, roaming his closet for some sweats and a fresh shirt, wondering if there was enough room for Randys things in the guest room. He felt suddenly pretty nervous about how Randy would react this morning. The last night had been real and John was sure that Randy had meant what he'd said, but there was still a small chance that Sam would convince him…

"Shit!"

The call! Randy wanted to call Sam today! Probably already had called her... John cursed himself and hurried down. He'd wanted to be with his friend since he knew Randy was afraid of what would be the outcome.

When he stepped into the living room, he found… himself greeted by an empty room. John frowned and padded over to the kitchen. No Randy. The kitchen was exactly how they'd left it. John went back into the living room, letting his eyes roam. No clothes, no cell, no bags… nothing that indicated that Randy was around.

"Randy?"

He listened, but there was no reaction. No sign that the younger man was somewhere in this house.

"Randy!"

Still no reaction. There had no one been upstairs. And obviously there was no one downstairs. No note in the kitchen or the living room. John pressed his lips together tightly. He was sure that he hadn't dreamt all this. His well-bandaged hand was the proof.

That meant… In a few quick strides John was at the front door, ripping it open. Gone. The truck. It was gone. He was gone.

No…

He should have known it.

No!

Should have known that Randy wouldn't, couldn't leave Sam, leave his daughter.

Please…

For an instant, he had to hold onto the door to keep himself from sinking to the ground as he felt a wave of agony flood his body. John bit back a pained sob and tears that threatened to fall and then… suddenly everything felt numb. He faintly registered that the door fell closed as he turned away.

His feet moved on their own accord to bring him back to his bedroom, where he stared a moment at bed, before he collapsed onto the side where Randy had slept. His smell still lingered there… And John broke down, curling up into a ball and burying his face in the pillow Randy had used, hot tears now pooling from his eyes.

And again, like that past, torturing days, he cried. This couldn't be. Randy had told him that he loved him. How could it end like that? It wasn't supposed to end like that. He cried out, dried Randys name. It wasn't fair, it just wasn't fair…

"John? What's wrong?"

It took a moment, before John realized that someone was in the room and another moment until his mind registered who it was. Slowly he opened his eyes, afraid that he'd only imagined that voice. He hadn't. John sat up, the pillow hugged tightly against his chest. His blue eyes were wide, unbelieving, staring at his friend like he was an hallucination. Randy was here?

"Randy?" he whispered.

"What happened, Johnny?" the younger man asked worried, his narrowed eyes roaming John.

"You didn't leave a note. Your stuff and your car were gone. I… I thought that you might have decided to go back to Sam and… and…" John said, his voice breaking at the last words.

"Aaw, damn," Randy muttered, pissed with himself as he realized what John must've thought. "You know, I tried to wake you but you were so dead to the world. You wouldn't wake up. And then I wanted to make breakfast but all I found was an almost empty pack of weird coloured cereals. So I went to get some stuff. I thought I would be back in time so you could wake up to fresh coffee and pancakes. Okay, my pancakes probably aren't mind-numbing good, but they are way better than those weird cereals you got down there. You really eat that shit every morning? I mean, you could eat a bowl of sugar instead. You know that, right? We gotta talk about that, because I'm not gonna eat that shit and…"

John sat there, pillow hugged to his chest, and watched wide-eyed as the younger man continued his speech, rambling something about bad food and too much sugar and his improving pancake-making-skills. He couldn't believe this. One second he felt like dying because he thought Randy was gone and the next second Randy was back, talking nonsense. Huh. He'd never seen a rambling Randy Orton before. It was funny, despite the situation. Yeah, funny. Surreal. The whole moment, completely surreal. And just too much.

While the tears kept coming, he felt a chuckle crawl up his throat and he couldn't help it, but it slipped past his lips and grew, morphed to a loud and maybe a little to hysterical laughter that held no mirth. Randys mouth snapped shut and he watched the older man with a worried expression in those icy eyes, moving to sit beside John on the bed, whose attempt to stop his hysterical attack failed miserably.

Then Randy wrapped his arms around the broad shoulders, pulling him in and holding him close, the low voice calming, trying to calm him down. John didn't hear the words, but let the familiar rumble wash over him. The laughter morphed to heavy sobs and he buried his face in the crook of Randys neck. He was a shaking, sobbing mess but he couldn't care less, because Randy was there, holding him close and more than words this embrace told him that everything would be okay. It would be okay…

It took a few minutes until John finally calmed down and when the sobbing stopped, the embrace loosened. Randy leaned back a little and peeled the pillow, that John still held tightly, out of his grasp. The older man tried to manage a smile and although it was small and shaky, it was real.

"I'm so sorry, John-John," Randy whispered, his voice something between being apologizing, tender, fierce and insecure. And wasn't there sadness, too?

John realized that, while Randy tried his best to reassure and comfort and be strong for him, Randy right now was on his own again to put up with this whole disaster. He'd promised Randy that he could count on him and now…

Just as John opened his mouth to apologize for letting him down and being a burden, Randy hushed him with a slight shake of his head, before leaning in to kiss him.

It was a kiss that made Johns head spin, a kiss that made it clear that Randy would never, ever leave him and John melted into it, trying to wrap this incredible feeling around them both like a cocoon to shut the world out. He felt Randy smile against his lips when he tried to literally crawl onto the younger mans lap.

Their kiss was interrupted by Randys cell that began to ring loudly and both of them jumped in surprise. Randy sighed and obviously decided not to answer the call as he leaned back in for another kiss. But his cell kept ringing.

John pushed him back a little and whispered against Randys lips: "I guess you better answer that call so we can discuss this," he gave him a sweet peck, "further."

Randy dug into a pocket of his cargo, found what he was searching for, flipped the cell open and tensed, staring at the small device. John felt his stomach churn when he saw sadness written all over the handsome features and a sudden pained expression in those beloved eyes. Randy looked up, giving him a sad smile.

It was the very moment that Randy closed his eyes and said in a strained voice: "It's Sam. John, I…"

John reached out for his friends free hand, intertwining theirs fingers, holding it tight and whispered: "You need to talk to her. I'm not gonna go anywhere, okay?"

Randys fingers closed tighter around his own and he felt himself being pulled closer when he finally answered the call. Fingers intertwined, thighs and shoulders touching Randys - that was how he remained while Randy threatened to fall apart during that call.

John did the only thing he could do – he waited, ready to catch him… so they could heal. Together.

~ Fin ~