A/N: I've been out of circulation for awhile, so I decided to try to ease myself back in with a sappy little one-shot, hope you like it!

(FYI: Italics are flashbacks and page breaks show the change between past and present)

"I don't. Like this." Dean grunted into the phone, resting his forehead on the desk in front of him.

"I know you don't," was the reply, although it sounded somewhat distracted to him.

"You know, I hate it when you do and say things just to humor me." He could just picture to bastard, sitting there flipping channels, barely listening to anything Dean was saying, just chiming in when he realized there was a silence.

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure you've told me that before." The jackass didn't even try to sound apologetic.

"And yet you're still doing it." He knew he was acting like a child, so sue him.

"That's because we've had this conversation constantly for the last week." The older man's sigh caught Dean's attention. He was right, they'd had this conversation too many times already and Dean should just let it go.

But, "I know I just miss getting to spend that time alone with you John."

"I'll be back soon, and you're traveling with Roman, it can't be all that bad, you guys did it for years."

"That was before you and I, and he's not all that great. He sings in the car."

"I can't even imagine that horror."

"You're a jackass."

"Yes, but you love me anyway right?"

"Yeah, I do." Dean replied, all hint of joking gone from his voice.

"Listen, I didn't want this shoulder injury any more than you did, but it happened we're going to deal with it." There was that voice of reason Dean could always count on.

"I know we'll get through this, just like all the other problems we've had."

"You know, without an injury we never would have been anything."

"Good point." Dean laughed remembering back to the start of everything.

Dean made his way to the back hallway, trying to ignore the fact that the pain was giving him a slight limp. He always hated that the trainers' room was kept in a back hallway of whatever building they were working in that night. He got it, better to keep it off the main track of almost anyone because all the secrets kept in that room were anyone's guess.

Damn Roman for sending him flying over that rope. Granted it wasn't his fault Dean botched his landing and now his arm throbbed like a mother. It was his elbow, he already knew that, and, with any luck, a little ice will make it manageable until tomorrow morning. That's how he preferred to live, make it through one night at a time, it was easier that way in his opinion. It never ceased to amaze him how much people hung on to what happened yesterday or worried about what was going to happen tomorrow. All that stuff ever did was make today harder.

Dean rolled his eyes at himself, pain always did make him more philosophical.

"I said I'm done with this shit, all of it. The pain, the injuries, and the never-ending bullshit, I'm over it and I'm not going to keep going with their shit anymore."

Punk must be pissed off again, that seemed to be happening more and more lately. "I know this is hard on you, but we just got to keep going…"

"That's what I've been doing John, and I'm finished with it." Dean barely managed to press against the wall before Punk barreled his way down the hallway.

"Punk." Cena stood directly in the path of Dean, he had little choice but to stand there, staring at the large man, not a bad way to pass the time, but he wasn't really in the mood just then.

"Hey, sorry man." John said, finally noticing him and moving out of the doorway. Dean wasn't one for heart to heart conversation, but the kicked puppy pout was even starting to worm its way under his thick skin. "You alright?" Dean asked on a sigh.

"Nope, not really."

Son of a bitch, he was going to ask, because he just couldn't stop himself. "Listen, I take myself out after matches like these, just a small reward to indulge in some horrible for me cheeseburgers, I think I deserve it. Anyway, you wanna come with?"

John stared at him for a few seconds, silently mauling over the offer. "Yea, that could be fun."

"You know actually, as best I can remember you made me feel bad about that cheeseburger reward."

"No, I made you feel bad about eating it in front of me."

"Oh, right but I think you enjoyed the end game." Dean replied, that first dinner cycling through his memory.

"That looks very…" John trailed off causing Dean to look up from his meal.

"What?" Dean asked before taking another bite of the overflowing sandwich. The medley of flavors danced across his tongue. Dean glanced across the table to John's own sandwich, a simple chicken breast. "I told you, this is supposed to be a reward meal," He stated, staring pointedly at John's meal.

"I put cheese on it, trust me that's a big reward for me these days." John told him, a self-depreciating smile on his face.

"Right." Dean just smiled and took another bite.

"You could at least pretend not to enjoy it so much."

"Yeah, I could." Dean replied before taking another massive bite, this time moaning as he chewed. John just laughed at him before starting to eat his own meal.

"So you ready to talk, not that I'm complaining or anything, but I figured that's why you agreed to come."

"I don't know what to tell you." John said quietly, picking up his sandwich but not taking a bite, only staring at it like it hoped it would hold some kind of answer.

"Listen, I'm not really the psychiatrist type. I don't know what to say to you to make you talk, I just offered to be an ear for you to listen to."

John looked up and met his eyes, staring at him for a few, long seconds. "I keep going on and on as if nothing's changed, but my friends are dropping one by one. I don't know how much longer I can keep up with the frantic pace of this life. When is it going to be too much for me?"

Those bright, blue eyes stared at him, almost begging him for an answer he didn't have. He opened his mouth, but nothing came out. What could he tell the man? That he was probably right, this lifestyle didn't bode well for longevity? That he had already made it in this business longer than most, longer than many expected. What came out though seemed like almost the opposite of all those thoughts. "This business, this life, it eats the weak and you have to change to survive. You have to get stronger and faster, you have to adapt to keep up with it. And that's what you did, that's why you've been around so long." John leaned back in his chair, his posture taking on a much more at ease pose.

But he stayed silent, just staring at Dean, waiting for him to go on. Dean matched John's pose, and licked his lips, not missing the way the older man's eyes tracked the motion. "You've changed so much to be able keep up with everything, you probably don't know how to live any other way. Maybe that's why you're so damn good at this."

"Are you complimenting me?" John asked him, the twitch at the corner of his lips showing he was fighting a smile. It was just enough to make one of those dimples start to show. Damn it. Dean had fought his attraction to the older man since he got on the roster. He never quite knew if John was interested in him, hell if he was interested in any man for that matter, and he wasn't brave enough to try to figure it out. But as he sat there, eyes locked with John, Dean felt that telltale tingling rush down his spine. Maybe he did stand a chance.

His courage was just starting to grow enough to reply, when the waitress walked up. "You guys need anything else?"

Dean felt a rush of anger for the woman, which was completely ridiculous, she was just doing her job.

"Just the check please." John told her, giving her that smile that was just making Dean's heart skip.

The walk back to the hotel was oddly uneventful, it was pretty rare they didn't run into at least one fan when out in public. It was nice for a change, it gave him more time to try to wrap his around what just happened between them. Dean took a few extra steps before he realized John had stopped walking. He turned around to see the large man staring at his feet, silently contemplating something.

"Thank you, it means a lot that…" John trailed off before shaking his head, "Like I said, just seems like I've been running out of people to talk to around here, so tonight was nice."

"Yeah, it was." He kept his mouth open, wanting to say more, but unable to come with anything. He just knew he didn't want it to come to a stop. "John..."

"Dean…" John didn't seem any more anxious for the night to end than he did. They stared, eyes locked, almost holding their breath to see what the other's next move would be.

"John…" Dean whispered, unsure of what he was asking for, but knowing he wanted something.

John rushed him, pressing his back against the stone behind him and sealing their lips. Pulling away only because of a desperate need for air, Dean saw his hand twisted in John's shirt, the other pressed against the side of John's neck. He felt John's hands gripping his hips, pulling him as close to the larger man's body as was physically possible.

He'd never understood what all that shit about fireworks meant. Until now.

"Jesus."

"Yeah."

"You know, I only kissed you that night to taste the cheeseburger"

"Jackass." Dean replied on a chuckle, finally starting to feel his mood lightening. John always could do that for him.

"Yeah but I'm you're jackass, have been since that first night."

"You're starting to make my teeth ache with all that sweetness."

They barely stumbled up the steps, neither wanting to let go of the other enough to make the journey safe. Dean felt the rub of the carpet up his back, surely leaving marks, he didn't care. The weight of the other man on top of him fed a longing he didn't know he had. Another bang, this time his knee against the cabinet door, filled the bus, along with their sawing breaths. That one kind of hurt. John's bus obviously hadn't been designed for sex in the kitchen. He tore his mouth away with the intention of motivating them towards the bedroom, but John's mouth nibbling down his neck made that thought seem irrational.

What was one more bruise in the grand scheme of things?

Dean wasn't sure how exactly it happened, but one second he was laying the floor and the next he was over John's shoulder, bouncing slightly with every step the older man took. "What the fuck?"

A sharp swat to his ass rendered him speechless until he was flung onto the bed. The thing must have been made pretty sturdy to have a 200 plus pound man dropped on it and barely do anything but make the mattress squeak. Good to know.

"What the hell was that? I'm almost as big as you and perfectly capable of walking?"

"I just felt like showing of a little. Besides, don't act like you didn't like it." John told him, a mischievous smile overtaking his features.

Well that was true, he wouldn't stand for being bossed around or controlled entirely, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy a little show of dominance here and there. And John could definitely give him that. But he didn't enjoy that quite as much as he was enjoying the show John was giving him now. The shirt was quickly shouldered off giving Dean an unencumbered view of each ridge of muscle he was dying to run his hands over. His finger's twitched with the need that he somehow suppressed, wanting to see what would happen next. He watched as one of John's hands slid down to his belt buckle, each flick of his wrist causing another delectable piece to be put on display.

Dean's eyes zeroed in on the cloth covered erection straining against the material as soon as it was revealed. John's hands moved to the band of his briefs, thumbs hooking in the elastic, framing the sizable package between them but not moving any further. Dean tore his gaze away to move up the gorgeous body and met John's. He stood there with one eyebrow raised, looking down at Dean obviously waiting for something.

"You just gonna lay there or are you going to start helping this process along."

"And if I just want to watch you work, what are you going to do?" Dean asked, purposely teasing the man as he leaned back on his elbows, loving the heated look that passed over John's features. The fierce growl that left the thick chested man set a firestorm of shocks coursing through Dean's body, but that was nothing compared to what he felt when John's hand snapped out a grasped his ankle, pulling him with ease to the edge of the bed, where agile hands slipped under with waist band of his jeans and briefs, tugging them down to his knees and making his erection spring up and slap against his naval.

"Fuck," he hissed out loving the alpha coming out in John. And when the man dropped to his knees to pull Dean's cock into his mouth. The sensation enough to distract him from the hands slipping under his shirt, pushing the material up until Dean's hardened nipples were at the other man's mercy.

"John!" Dean screamed out when his nipples were suddenly pinched and flicked with just the right amount of pressure, leaving Dean wondering how he hadn't shot his load down John's throat already.

When he looked down and locked eyes with the man currently giving him so much pleasure, the carnal gaze that met his left his pulse quickening and breathing shallow. John never eased up on the constant play with his nipples, the motions keeping Dean walking that fine line between pleasure and pain, and Dean couldn't get enough. He fisted his hands in the sheets, trying to get a handle on the pleasure pulsing though him.

John slowly ran the tip of his tongue to lightly trace along the vein running from the base of his cock to the tip, sending liquid pleasure coursing through his veins. It was all too much, but at the same time just not quite enough.

He dragged his hands up John's back, nails scoring the skin lightly, until he grasped the back of John's head and pressed the man's lips to his. He'd never experienced anything like this, the raw need he could constantly feel just under his skin was finally being fed. John was fulfilling something for him he never thought anyone could. Something primal was driving him, driving them, and it was perfect.

"Do you want this?" John suddenly pulled away and asked.

"What, yes of course I do. Why did you stop?" Dean asked, shaking his head slightly trying to pull himself out of his haze.

"Because I don't want to take advantage of you or something like that. I just want to make sure you're thinking clearly."

Dean stared at John, falling a little bit harder for the man once he realized he really was that good of a guy. Damn him. "Yeah John, I want this."

"Good." John's mouth slammed back down on his. Damn that man could kiss, and Dean just sank down into the mattress and enjoyed the masterful actions. Soon he found his wrists being held down on either side of his head, the power show turning him on even more. He hitched his legs higher on John's hips, desperately grinding his pelvis against the large man's.

John broke their kiss with a small nibble on his bottom lip, pulling just enough to make him gasp. That gasp pulled a rather wicked smile from John. He reached across Dean to dig around in the drawer, finally emerging with the bottle of lube. That simple sight sent Dean's heart racing.

John leaned back, flipping the lid open and coating his fingers in a few succinct movements, before moving his fingers to Dean's aching hole. The first finger sent rivers of bliss covered pinpricks through his system. Dean arched his back, trying to get closer to John, trying get him deeper, but the bastard just wasn't letting it happen. He took his time, slowly letting one finger slide in and out, never letting that teasing grin leave his face. John slowly worked, slowly turning him into a quivering mess, until three of those thick fingers slid in and out of him easily.

Finally, he took pity on him and let the blunt head of his cock press against his opening. John stared directly into his eyes as he entered him, not letting one ounce of Dean stay hidden. He'd never had that level of intimacy before, never shared so much of himself with another man. And he didn't think he ever would again. He wasn't sure if that thought thrilled him or terrified him, but one way or the other, he just hoped it never stopped.

John pressed his hips forward and didn't stop until he was fully seated inside Dean, groin pressed to groin, both of their breaths ragged gasps against the others' skin. John stilled and dropped his head to rest on Dean's shoulder. "Damn." John practically growled in his ear. The knowledge that he had drove this man that close to the edge of his control was an aphrodisiac by itself.

Suddenly John was moving, hard, quick thrusts that made Dean's prostate sing. It didn't become any less frantic as the minutes wore on. They rolled around the bed, pillows and blankets flying to the floor, both desperate to reach that high that only they could only reach with each other.

Dean knew he wasn't going to be able to hold out much longer, and when John rolled on top of him one last time, placed his elbows on either side of Dean's head and threaded his fingers through his unruly mop of blond hair, he knew he lost the battle.

He picked his head up just enough to latch his teeth on John's collarbone, unsure why, but wanting to mark John in some way. The action seemed to unleash something feral inside of John, his thrusts frantic, all sense of rhythm gone. Dean arched his back as pleasure washed over him, almost enough to make his vision go black. He was vaguely aware of the last few stuttering thrusts sending John to that plateau as well.

"What's really bothering you, because I can tell it's something more than just not wanting to travel with Reigns anymore." John's voice snapped Dean's attention back to the upsetting topic.

"No that's pretty much it." Dean replied, refusing to face what was actually bothering him.

"I keep telling you, it's not that bad. Besides, it's not like we'd be able to tour together forever anyway." Judging by John bringing up Dean's least favorite topic, he wasn't going to let Dean hide away from fear. Jerk. They both knew Cena was coming to the end of his time in the business. Sooner or later he would be fighting night after night while John waited for him at home. He could deal with that but what terrified him was he had seen more than one relationship fall apart because of this business. One person on the road trying to keep up with this grueling schedule, while the other waited at home, wondering and worrying about what their partner was up to. Trust and love could only carry a relationship so far, before one or the other couldn't hold on to that any longer. He didn't want that to happen to him and John, but he wasn't sure how to avoid it either.

"I know you don't like to hear that." John told him quietly.

"You're right, I don't." His silence obviously wasn't giving off a strong enough 'leave the topic alone' vibe like he hoped.

"Well, it's true and we'll be just fine, just like we always have been."

"How can you be so sure of that?" Dean hated how fragile his voice sounded. But John didn't comment on the crack in his voice, didn't judge him in any way or simply dismiss his fears. It was those things that just kept him falling for the man over and over again.

"By doing things like this, talking as much as we can and remembering all the good times. Remembering us and how we got wherever we do finally end up."

"You think we can make that work?"

"I think we can if we both want it to." A brief pause, and then John asked, "Do you want it to?"

Fuck, he'd put that waiver in John's voice and he hated himself for it. "Yeah John, I want it to last, and whatever I have to do to make that happen I will."

"Well now that all that's settled," John's happy go lucky attitude, that occasionally drove Dean crazy, was back in place, "try to get some sleep. I'm sure you have a bitch of a day tomorrow, call me when you wake up, okay?"

"I will. Love you." Dean replied, the tenderness he usually tried to keep at bay creeping into his speech.

"Love you too." John told him with just as much warmth.