This is one of those stories that's knocking on your door, tells you that it's nothing special but wants to be written nevertheless and as you can see, I gave in.

I guess a little Ambreigns-something to start the week is always okay :)

This is the first time though that I use their real names and in this story the boys don' t have girlfriends, wifes or children.

Have fun (I hope ;) !

I am here for you.

A handful of words he would remember forever. Genuine words, so simple yet so very powerful and a promise that had been kept up to this day and would never be broken. He believed it with all his heart because this promise had been the first thing that had turned out to be worth his trust after what had felt like an eternity in which believing had not been part of his vocabulary.

A sigh was breathed into the night, weary and a little defeated, the tiny sound the first sign of life after long minutes now.

Talk to me. It was lying on Jon's tongue as he kept watching the figure that was standing there at the window. Joe. It was what Jon had done for the last twenty minutes, watching Joe as the big man gazed out of the window and into the illuminated nightlife, oblivious to Jon being awake and that most likely because he was too lost in his thoughts, like so often lately. No good thoughts, too. Out in the ring the Big Dog was baring his teeth... but when the lights were out it was Joe who had the blues.

After waking up and finding his friend out of bed and standing like a still life at the window, Jon could have said a word and shake him out of it but he knew that Joe needed time to think. He was that type of guy, rather quiet and not one to wear his heart on his sleeve. Dealing with things on his own.

Letting his eyes roam his friend, Jon took in the image. Joe was standing only in boxers with his back to him, the broad shoulders slightly hunched and speaking of a subliminal tension. As did his hands which were resting on the windowsill, the fingers splayed yet not relaxed, rather as if he wanted to dig them into the sill. The fact that the black mane was tied back told him that his friend was standing there much longer already than those twenty minutes because Joe had his hair open during the night, only bunned them up over the day. What he couldn't see was Joe's face. No need to though. His head was slightly bowed and Jon could imagine the absentminded expression, the tense features and the distant gleam in his friend's eyes. He could because he'd seen all of it before.

Deciding to give him a few more minutes before he would end the brooding, Jon kept his eyes trained on the tall figure while allowing his thoughts drift. It was one of those nights when stray thoughts floated in the eerie nightly mood like paper airplanes, crossing the bit of distance between Joe and him without ever reaching the other. You fill the blank spaces of the pages which where hidden in the quiet corners on your mind that you're too busy to visit during the day with the thoughts you don't want or allow yourself to think of while being in the midst of the daily busy life, write down secrets and wishes there and whatever the night brings to your mind.

Tonight it sent Jon back years, back to the point where their friendship had become a bond. It still felt somehow surreal when he thought about it... that one moment when he'd told Joe about his childhood, leaving nothing out. He'd bared his soul back then. The memory was so present that it was almost graspable. Joe's eyes, big and deep and sad. His lips opening to say something, seemingly unable to voice it as no word had left his mouth but what what had been written on his face spoke loud enough anyway.

I don't know what to say to your sad story. You floored me and all I can do is be there for you and absorb... and hope that it helps. And it did help.

Truth is, a past like his own scars you for life, even if you think that you've left it behind. In a way it never leaves you. You can learn to cope with it, bear it, even forget it sometimes but it is a part of you. Fact. It forms who you are and what you become. Some people go down with a past like that. A grim smile flashed up on his lips. His past had given him the will and the strength to claw his way out of the gutter and fight for a good life.

After long moments of silence Joe had simply pulled him into a hug, whispering those few words which had become so precious to Jon.

I am here for you.

A movement brought him back to the present. Joe exhaled a heavy breath and braced his forearms against the window, leaning in to rest his forehead on them. Time to stop this. Without a word Jon got up and slowly approached him. No twitching, no wiggling or dancing, no big words or dump jokes. No cool facades. Here and now it wasn't Dean and Roman. This man was Joe, his Joe, who had a gentle soul and a heart of gold and who was so much more sensitive than people credited to him.

When he stepped up behind Joe it seemed that the other man still wasn't aware of his presence but there wasn't even a tiny flinch as Jon rested his forehead in the back of his friend's neck and wrapped his arms around the thick waist in a loose embrace.

"You should be sleeping," Joe murmured, not moving an inch.

"Says the one who's staring out of the window half of the night," he replied, noticing how cool the usually so warm skin felt. "You need to stop this."

"It's been just a few minutes," he heard him sigh and wondered if it really felt like this to Joe. Probably lost track of time while mulling over shit. "I'm just, you know... thinking."

"Yeah, that's what I meant. Stop it. Your brooding gets you nowhere and I hate seeing you sad."

"Dunno what you're talking about."

The reply came with a slight delay and betrayed him. Jon closed his arms a bit tighter around the broad frame and felt Joe relax a little. Doing this always worked.

"You've never been a good liar," he said softly. " Stop being Roman and give me Joe. I know he needs me."

Bold words. And the truth.

Joe moved, laying one of his hands on the arms which were wrapped around his middle and Jon turned his head, resting his chin on a broad shoulder while molding their bodies together in an attempt to shelter the man in his arms. Waiting in silence for Joe to speak, he let his eyes trail over the outside world that was wearing a nightly blanket of colorful and sparkling lights.

"I don't even know why it gets to me like this." Joe's voice was low, hushed. "It's silly, I know."

So he'd been right. Joe was once again mulling over the negative reactions he was getting from the audience so often no matter what he was doing.

"No, it's not," Jon replied.

"Fuck yes, it is silly, I..."

"Joe," he cut him off softly. "It is not silly. You're working like a horse. You're good out there and you're getting better and better. You're not a high-flyer. So what? You're not a star at the mic? So what? The scripts're not your fault and not everyone in this business can be a CM Punk or a Chris Jericho or a Paul Heyman." He didn't hear the sigh Joe heaved for the umpteenth time this night but he felt it. "You worked so hard and you deserve that the crowd cheers for you."

I do, he thought as he turned his head and nuzzled the side of his face against the smooth skin. I do every fucking time you're out there.

It tugged hard at Jon's heart to see that when the crowd actually really cheered for his friend, that for a brief moment it wasn't Roman Reigns standing in the ring but Joe Anoa'i with a genuine smile on his handsome face, one that spoke of how much it touched him.

"Still feel like a crybaby..." he heard him half mutter, half snort. "Just doing my fucking job. Shouldn't give a shit if they love me or hate me."

Maybe. Maybe not. Everyone in the roster was doing their job with all their heart because it was their dream, being a WWE Superstar and some one them were really good at being heels, getting a kick out of the flame but none of them could deny having that very special feeling when their work was credited with deafening cheers.

Although he was handling negative feedback from the audience better than Joe, he knew what it meant to feel like this, slightly hurt and disappointed. It nagged at you. Constantly. He knew what it was like to feel like there was no one who really understood, feeling like even talking about it was nothing but a pointless stirring of air.

I care about you too much to make you feel that way alone.

They loved each other enough to make room for each other's pain in their hearts and handle it like their own. Or better than their own, because their own troubles and pain usually ended up stuffed into a back corner of their brains and left there to ferment into a viscous, sour liquor.

I'm here for you, put it on my shoulders. I'm here for you when your heart is squeezed dry and when you open your mouth to speak and no sound comes out because language can't articulate the white noise in your head, can't wrap descriptors around its frequency... I hear you...

He wanted to say it... but somehow he couldn't and so he did what he always did when words didn't obey, he willed it into his embrace instead. And it seemed that Joe heard him, understood... Jon heard his name leave the other man's lips as barely more than a whisper and the soft sounds sent a tingle down his spine.

They had been lucky to find the one person they could actually trust and let their guards down in front of... and cleave to like dust to sweat. In this world a human being was supposed to be so evolved, so independent and self-serving, that sometimes you forgot what it was like... and that it was okay... to need someone to love and take care of you, take on our emotional weight. Even if there was someone who was willed to carry your troubles and your pain with and for you. No matter if the reason was silly or not.

"What if I get fired because I'm not the crowd puller they thought I would be?" Joe whispered after a long moment.

"Okay, now you're being silly," John half snorted, half sighed. "But if it makes you feel better... if they fire you, you'll be my wifey and stay at home and I'll earn the money for our little happy family."

Jokingly said and meant but it's core was nothing but the truth because... there was Roman, his friend and brother. And then there was Joe who was not only his friend and brother... but... he was feeling more for Joe. As in more more. As in, Joe made him feel a certain warmth in his chest, made him feel good and safe. Made his heart jump when being there and beat sadly when he wasn't around. As in thinking about him while jerking off what had pretty much been the moment he'd not only felt but realized that it had become more than a friendship for him. He would protect this man with teeth and claws and all he had to put up, because Joe was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Love? He didn't bother to put a label on it, he felt it and that was enough. They had grown so very close and his feelings had grown, too. Was Joe feeling the same? He wasn't sure... but their relationship was so special that holding and touching the other in ways that could only be called intimate was an inherent part of it. Like now...

"Sounds like a plan," Joe hummed and John could hear a soft smile lying in it.

They had never lost a word about the nature of their friendship. No, he did not know how Joe felt about him but often it seemed that there was more, too. Maybe they had never talked about it because there was no doubt that in a way they belonged together or else one of them would have found himself a partner already. It was something that Jon was afraid of in those very-very dark nights, that he had been wrong all the time and Joe would tell him one day that he was in love with some chick. Or guy. Because Joe was swinging both ways, had never made it a secret. Involuntary he tightened his hold even more, put a hand to the spot above his friend's heart.

Then... silence. And the mood between them... shifted...

Joe stilled against him, even stopped breathing and his heart... John could feel it beating harder now. And his own heart followed suit. Who moved first, Jon wasn't sure but he stepped back the very same second Joe straightened up, taking a step back, too, and again doing what felt right instead of thinking if he really should risk it, Jon moved to sit on the windowsill with his knees framing Joe... who slowly came closer.

There was this vulnerability shining in the handsome features Joe only showed when they were alone. All guards down, this is who I am. And fuck, this man was so fucking beautiful. No contacts in those pretty eyes, no sharp and cold grey but that oh so warm and deep brown. Eyes to get lost in.

It was almost ridiculous how this man could bring out his soft and touchy-feely side just like that...

Hesitantly he reached up to free the black mane, letting the tie drop carelessly to the floor. The hair was so very soft as it slid through his fingers and the image of those dark strands pooling down, flowing over the broad shoulders and the muscled chest and giving such a nice contrast to the tan skin that seemed silvery in the light that fell through the window was a sight to behold.

There was't much space left between them and maybe he was imagining it, but the air suddenly seemed to hum.

"Let me be there for you, Joe," he whispered because he didn't trust his voice.

Tucking a strand of hair behind his friend's ear, he watched as the brown orbs roamed his face. What was just happening? And why? Was the why really important? He shouldn't question it, should he? Be happy instead. Big hands on his thighs, digging into them lightly. A touch that was hesitant, inquiring... and then carefully wandered up to his hips... got firmer...

"Tell me you're feeling this, too," Joe breathed as he pulled him closer.

Fuck yes, Jon was feeling. Not only this thing between them that had been there all the time but also a tingling in his belly and a shiver that was rushing through him. His skin pricked. And he could see on the handsome face that Joe felt all this, too. The pretty eyes widened a little and the lush lips parted just enough to let a quick and shallow breath pass.

Funny, wasn't it? Their relationship had changed over the time so subtly into what it was now... practically being an item only without the kissing and, well, sex. No sparkling epiphany for them here, like other people had when they looked at a certain someone, thinking: you're the one. Instead of answering, Jon smiled and brushed his hands along the strong arms, up to the other man's shoulders.

His gaze swept to the black art and letting his index finger travel the fine lines he asked: "Where do we go from here?"

One hand wandered to the small of his back while the other found to his hair, brushing stubborn strand out of his forehead before fingers closed around his chin softly, urging him to meet the gaze of those brown orbs again.

"I like the direction this is going," Joe murmured, his thumb tracing Jon's bottom lip.

Hooking his feet behind his friend's legs, Jon nodded lightly.

"Yeah..." he whispered, threading his fingers into the black mane. "Fuck, yeah..."

They met half-way for a soft touching of lips, the featherlight contact causing his heart to sing like never before in his life. Drawing back a bit, they gazed at each other and Jon found a small and so very sweet smile dancing on those lips which had felt so good on his own. He leaned back in again because he needed to taste those lips again and the smile on them.

His sigh fused with Joe's breathless moan, getting lost between their lips as they deepened the kiss. Tongues, sliding against each other in a shy dance, all soft strokes, slow and begging, stealing Jon's breath and made him forget about everything but the man who was holding him close. There was Joe's scent filling his nostrils, his taste on his tongue and the touch of gentle fingers on his skin as the hand on his back roamed. It was a simple kiss made a wave of all kinds of good washing through him.

A small part in him wondered why this hadn't happened before, why it had taken them so long to get to this point. But it just hadn't been the right moment until this night to take this step.

When the kiss ended eventually, Joe brought their foreheads together and chuckled softly: "Very effective way to make someone stop thinking."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it?" Jon grinned, bringing his legs up to wrap them around Joe's waist to pull him flush against him... and frowned in amusement as he felt a certain hardness poke against his groin.

"Not my fault," Joe murmured sheepishly. "You're one hot piece of ass after all and God knows you can kiss, dude."

"Want me to take care of it, big man?" Jon husked, stealing a sweet little kiss from him.

"No sex until the third date."

"You're kidding me, right?" he asked, drawing back then and gazing at his friend with a raised brow.

"Let's take this slow, okay? Slow worked good for us, didn't it?"

Pouting he hummed an agreement, less because he really agreed with not exploring the new ground further since they were at it already but more because Joe asked him to. Well, they had time, right?

"Jon?"

"Yeah?"

A big hand came up to cup the back of his head, pulling him in again.

"Thank you for being there for me."

The anytime he wanted to answer was stopped as lips sealed over his again for another kiss that held enough heat to chase goosebumps all over his body and make his toes curl, cause his chest to clench in a sweet-sweet ache.

Sometimes there were nights which were dark in their mood and put the weight of things which were not golden on your shoulders, nights that turned out to be a changing point.

Well, tonight things had changed.

And while he pressed closer, trying to drown in this kiss, he thought that a dark night had seldom been brighter...

- Fin -

Now? Was okay? Some candy for me?