Three times Randy wanted to tell John that he loves him and the one moment that changed their lives.

Now, this concept has been written often enough but I don't have one in my library and this one jumped me while I was lying sick on my couch today, so I just started it.

Like it or not ;D here is the first part of four.

He'd known this man for over a decade. They had traveled together, they had roomed together and they had spent more private time together than he'd spent with anyone else of his friends. John made him laugh, he took him down a peg or two when he lost his temper. John was the voice of reason in his life and the shoulder to hold on in those moments when his life seemed to come apart at the seams. John had held his hand out to him more often than it could be expected… from a friend.

It was ease he felt when the older man was around and he traced it back to the fact that John took him the way he was. Only in those moments when he lost it he dug and pushed at the right points to get him back down. As strange as it sounded, over the time John had learned to play him perfectly. It was scaring. Sometimes only a fleeting expression in those blue eyes was enough to make him back down. Or to make him smile. Randy found himself being pulled back into John's orbit over and over again. And at some point he began to never want to leave that orbit ever again.

Ease became deep affection. Deep affection became a crush. And that crush… it became love. The forever-kind of love.

For more than a year Randy refused to admit it to himself. No way could he be in love with another man and out of all people it had to be his best friend. Fuck love. They were surrounded by good-looking girls with amazing bodies and he had to go and fall for a guy.

Not that John wasn't good-looking. And that body… that butt… Oh great, he did it again.

And maybe his mind kept drifting back to that topic because said man was just in his line of sight, dancing with a girl and moving said butt in a forbidden nice way. Whose idea had it been to go out and have some fun? Oh right, Cody's. Cody, who was dancing plastered against an overwhelmed Teddy. The epiphany that Cody had a thing for him was successfully remaining aloof to Ted and Randy hoped that he would be around when Ted finally understood. He was sure that face would be… priceless.

And now they were here, at a random bar, having so much fun. Well, having fun here was applying to Cody, Ted maybe because the younger man didn't seem to have made up his mind how much fun he actually had at the moment, and very obviously to John… certainly not to Randy who kept glaring in John's direction. That girl had her hands all over him and it infuriated Randy to be in the fucking situation of having to watch the show.

Her hands landed on John's butt and the green eyed monster lashed out in Randy but all he could do was turn around on his seat, wrenching his eyes away from them. Oh well, he could go over there and shove her away from him, kiss him in front of all those people but… that would probably be the last moment John would ever let him come close again. Randy was sure John would most likely never even say a single word to him if he did it.

It wasn't worth a try. Trading the permission of being close to John, even if it was only as a friend for one single kiss… no, it wasn't worth it. And so Randy glared at an invisible point at the wall, fighting with himself to keep his back towards them. Drink after drink…

It was probably half an hour after he'd decided not to watch her groping the man he'd lost his heart to when the world began to sway unpleasantly, although he was sitting. With the maximum of concentration he managed to bring up he willed the world to stop that shit and surprisingly enough it worked. Well, almost. The swaying became a slight spinning.

"I think you've had enough, Orton," said a familiar voice close to his ear and made him jump out of his skin with it.

He felt hands on his waist tighten their hold, preventing him from falling off the barstool. Hands he hadn't even noticed being there before and it dawned on him that those hands had also been the reason why his world had stopped swaying.

"Don't think so," Randy muttered but didn't do anything to get rid of his friend's hands.

He liked them there. He was actually thinking about swaying on purpose just to keep them right where they were.

"So that's your way of having fun?" the blond man asked and dammit, he had his voice still too close to Randy's ear.

An involuntary shudder ran through him and yup, John had noticed it, because he moved around a bit to sit on the barstool beside Randy, so close that he was able to keep one arm wrapped around the slender waist and scrutinized the younger man's face. Randy wanted to huff but what came out was more of a belch. A chuckle was John's response.

"Tonight? Yeah, tonight it's my way of having fun," Randy muttered, pursing his lips. "Becauuuuse… because Cody is busy with ravishing Ted and you… you'll be off soon enough to fuck that girl who tried to get you naked on the dance floor."

A pat on his hip. And a lopsided smile spread on his lips.

"Yeah, my plan exactly," the older man sighed. "Well, that was until I saw you almost fall off your stool. I sent her away to find someone else for the night and now I'm gonna take you to the hotel. Come on, move that sexy ass of yours."

… sexy ass…?

Randy's head snapped around to John at the comment, only to be greeted by a wide grin. Almost wide enough to bring up the dimples. He could see hints of those fucking cute dimples.

Fuck.

Dangerous. Reaaally dangerous. Was he leaning towards John? Probably, that would explain why the world was tilting so oddly and why John quirked an eyebrow. A second later Randy's forehead collided with John's shoulder as he neatly missed the lips he so wanted to kiss.

"Very graceful, Randy, very-very graceful…"

"Yeah, totally, I know…" he mumbled against his friend's shoulder, quite content with the place his face had found.

One of his hands dropped to John's thigh and the blond didn't even flinch. His entire life he'd thought that only the well-toned body of a beautiful girl could feel so fucking good to his touch… well, that was until his heart decided to go into business for itself, latching onto the man who was now holding him. And now… now it was that thick thigh he felt under his fingers which made his heart stumble and lurch. A sigh that morphed to a small moan of slight sadness slipped past his lips.

"You okay, Ran?"

Ran… he loved it when John called him that. Even more so if it was wrapped in that warm and low rumble that made his heart beat faster.

I love you.

"Don't know… maybe not."

"You gonna be sick?"

Again the low rumble. Again his heart ran a tad faster.

"No, not sick…"

Well, lovesick maybe.

"What's wrong? Why are you trying to shoot yourself out of life?"

Soft. His voice. As was his touch as John's free hand settled on the back of Randy's head. Caring. Worried.

Nothing's wrong. I just love you.

"Felt alooone," he replied instead, sounding way more pathetic than he wanted to.

He felt the hum more than he heard it before John muttered: "Why didn't you say a word?"

"You were busy…"

"You really think that some random girl is more important than you are?" John asked puzzled. "Don't be silly. You're worrying me a bit here, you know? Now, spill it, what's wrong with you tonight?"

"Told you, felt alone."

"Something else?"

"No," Randy lied, because there was more, wasn't there?

But wouldn't it be enough? he added in his thoughts.

Patting Randy's head lightly he dipped his face a bit to get closer to the younger man's ear he said quietly: "Okay, let's go then. I've got you."

The arm around his waist tightened its hold and he felt John slip from the barstool, gently pulling him down with him and Randy didn't give much resistance, but his face remained where it was. Pressing closer he sniffed at John, smiling as his nostrils were filled with John's unique scent.

"Are you sniffing at me?" John asked incredulously, gently pushing Randy a bit away.

The older man was gazing at him with narrowed eyes and furrowed brows.

Only a bit, Johnny… was what Randy thought.

"Nooope," was what he said.

The expression on John's face relaxed a bit as he shook his head, laughing softly.

"You're drunk as a newt, man," he stated the obvious as he put one of Randy's arms around his shoulders and one arm around the younger man's waist to hold him upright as he more or less carried him out of the bar.

And Randy held on to him with delight, a goofy grin plastered to his face that made John chuckle every time he side-gazed the younger man. He even clung to his friend while sitting in the cab. And when they reached the hotel he let himself being steered to the elevator where John parked him in a corner, standing in front of him with one hand on his chest to keep him from keeling over. But not for long. For a second the pressure on Randy's chest ceased and he used the chance to… accidently… fall forwards and right into the well-known, strong arms which caught him safely.

"Jeez, Randy, you're heavy. Come on, I'm sure you can stand on your own," John muttered as he tried to push him back into his corner.

"Can't," the younger man muttered back.

The elevator doors pinged open and after being shifted a little in John's hold Randy stumbled along the corridor, an arm wrapped firmly around his friend's neck and one hand extended to keep the corridor wall from crashing onto them. Despite three times of gracefully tripping over his own feet and half-heartedly grumbling from John because he had to keep him from collapsing like a pile of laundry they finally made it to their shared room. John steered him to a bed and with an ooof he sat down heavily, seeing his friend stare at him with a partly concerned, partly amused expression.

"I suggest you get out of your clothes and under the blanket?"

Randy hummed. It sounded like a good idea but when John started stripping to his boxers he could only stare and watch the show. Moving wasn't an option anymore because moving most likely included missing a second of the nice sight in front of him. Muscles flexing, moving tantalizingly under pale skin. A perfect body that made any well-toned girls body pale in comparison. Muscles which were pleasing to the touch, hard yet soft… and that butt…

"Are you watching me, Orton?"

"Hunh?" he replied ingeniously as his eyes snapped up to the older man's face with a most befuddled expression that made John snigger.

"You wanna sleep in your clothes?"

Frowning Randy looked down on himself and shaking his head no he stood up, swaying dangerously. It wasn't getting any better as he tried to get his tee over his head and within seconds he was tangled in the stubborn fabric. He didn't see anything but he felt the world tilt and preparing for a hard impact he closed his eyes. Only that he never hit the floor.

Arms around him had kept him from falling and those arms were now pulling him closer.

"Need help?" came the amused question.

Randy's fingers itched to touch him and he would have done it, if he hadn't so successfully tied himself up in his shirt. John didn't wait for an answer and holding the younger man up with one arm, he began to free him from the tee, cautiously tugging it over his friend's head. Once freed, Randy only stared at him, happy about the close proximity.

It got him a quirked eyebrow.

"Shoes?"

John was still holding him up as he slipped out of his shoes, using the chance to hold on to him. The amusement on John's face grew and Randy thought that, yes, that man was cute.

Love you.

"Pants, Randy."

A moment later his cargos pooled around his feet and John praised him with a good boy, before steering him back to the bed.

How he ended up lying on John was a total mystery to him but he wasn't going to question it, because fuck if he would leave this position ever again. A wide, goofy and utterly happy grin stretched his lips, unseen by the older man.

"You're squashing me," John exhaled a little choked. "Get off."

"Can't."

"Hell yes, you can. Get off."

"Caaan't," Randy slurred.

Fingers tapping his shoulder wanted to tell him that yes, he could do it.

The tapping continued as the blond man stated: "I'm not used to having half-naked men lying on top of me."

"Liar. Having half-naked men lying on top of you is your fucking job," Randy muttered and in a way he had a point there.

An exasperated sigh close to his ear. Warm breath fanning over his neck, making him shudder.

"Get. Off. Or I'll make you, Orton," the older man warned him.

"Caaan't. Can't-can't-can't…" Randy pouted.

Don't want to…

The following sigh fleeting over his neck was more a worried one, even a tad defeated. Randy knew John wouldn't really make him get off if it meant he could possibly hurt him by doing so. Instead he felt hesitant arms circle his back as John shifted a little in an attempt to breathe easier. It maybe would have been a nice move to get off John, but he simply didn't want to since it felt way too good and the chance to end up like this again were… poor. A smile tugged at his lips again. John was broader than him but he was definitely taller and he was pretty much blanketing him completely right now, with his arms framing his head. His own head rested on a familiar broad shoulder and his face… it was resuming its place there.

They fell quiet and the only sound to be heard in the room was their breathing. Within seconds the alcohol induced haze, the slow rising and falling of John's chest and the dull beating of his heart lulled Randy into a doze and the gentle arms wrapped around him did their part, too, leaving him dwelling in a wonderful dream. But it wasn't granted to him to enjoy it and it was John's hushed voice which called him back.

"Still feeling alone?"

There were times when the older man's voice was so infinitely tender that it made Randy's heart ache, that it sent a tingle down his spine. Just like this very moment. And maybe it was a good thing that he was much too drunk… or better drunk enough… that his body didn't embarrass him.

"No," Randy breathed.

"Ran… what is it? I mean, you're acting really odd tonight. And don't get me wrong, I don't have a problem with you being close, you know that, but this…"

Despite his words John tightened his hold on him, probably an attempt to comfort him. When there was no answer from the younger man John spoke again, as hushed, as goddamn tender.

"Randy?"

No answer because Randy didn't want this moment to end and he was sure if he moved now, if he said a word, this moment would be… lost. But this was John and John wouldn't let him get away with not reacting.

"Ran, come on, look at me," John demanded softly and his arms slipped from the younger man's back, finding a way between them to gently push him up.

There was a question lying in the depths of those baby blues he'd come to love so dearly. It wasn't the question the older man had asked him and for once Randy couldn't read what was written in them. He braced on his arms which were still framing John's head, gazing down on him and he had to swallow hard as strong hands settled on his hips, the touch making the hair on his neck stand on end. If he just would lean in now and do what his heart was asking for…

A tiny switch around his friend's eyes told him that he was probably doing it, drifting towards those tempting lips and he blinked once as he found a new expression accompany the lingering question in the blue orbs. He wasn't sure… if it was confusion? Or uncertainty?

"You know you can tell me anything…"

It wasn't a question but a statement, whispered, begging in a way. And Randy… he wanted to believe it. That he could tell John anything. Even… that. He would have never allowed the idea that formed in his clouded mind now to even emerge from the depths of his hidden wishes while being sober but now…

"Ran…?"

Another tingle ran down his spine, leaving waves of goose bumps in its wake. God, how he wanted to kiss him and he fucking loved him so much it hurt. He could taste the words in his mouth, sweet yet bitter as they were lying on the tip of his tongue, waiting to be revealed. Three words. Three tiny, innocent words…

"I…" he whispered as his gaze was kept prisoner by blue depths.

… love you.

"I…" he tried again, his voice a mere breath now.

… I love you so much…

Within a split second the whole magic moment shattered as his stomach suddenly cramped painfully, making him moan pitifully. Another second later he began to heave and the next thing he knew was that John quickly crawled out from under him, lifting him off the bed to drag him over to the bathroom. Just in time.

Randy had no idea how long he kept his head stuck into the toilet, throwing up everything his stomach had to give until he was back at retching dry. All the time he felt tender hands rubbing soothing circles on his back and he heard calming words being whispered.

Those hands and words were the last thing he knew as he slipped into a nice blackness…

When he woke up the next morning he found a killer headache waiting for him and… he was lying in his bed, wrapped in a warm blanket and beside him… there was John, sitting propped up against the headboard. Sleeping. One of his hands was settled on Randy's shoulder, the other was holding a damp washcloth, resting on his legs.

For a second Randy forgot the pounding in his head as the events of the last night came rushing back. He gasped. His eyes widened. And then he closed them against a suspicious burning in them and a stifled sob crawled past his lips, just loud enough to wake John. His name was being whispered and a gentle hand smoothed over his hair and when he opened his eyes again there was John, all worried leaning over him…

Much later as they sat in the plane on their way back home John was still worried about his well-being, not a moment leaving his side. And while Randy stared out of the window the memories of the night came back, over and over again.

It had been close and he wasn't sure if it had been too close… or not close enough…