Huhm… now, this is part four and this story has found its end. Hope you'll like the last chapter as much as you liked the ones before.

Enjoy ;D

It had been a call from Cody that forced him to come back to the here and now after an hour, two maybe, to face the thick and agonizing reality. Slowly lifting his head Randy gazed at the door John had left through… leaving him alone. Leaving his life. The older man's words though were still lingering in this room like a bad dream, a memory, sharp enough to cut deep, draw blood… kill slowly…

I'm done with this…

The ringing of his cell tore the quietness to pieces as it kept calling for him insistently. Absentmindedly he reached for the small device in his pocket, staring at the caller-ID to see who it was, but it took him a few more seconds to realize who was calling.

Cody. Cody who was asking him if he and John had actually had a fight because evidence a) John was alone at the same pub Cody and some of the other guys were having an after work drink, wearing a frankly pissed expression and evidence b) Randy was not there, also sounding like having a bad mood and that would make evidence c) it was highly unusual, as in it happens never ever that they weren't out together since it was what they did. Always being in the other man's orbit, sticking together like Siamese twins.

Randy didn't answer, he just sighed down the line and thus confirming Cody's suspicion. The younger man kept asking, his already slightly slurred speech a bit too fast and his voice a tad too loud, the combination of it nerve-wracking… and at some point Randy just ended the call because it was all too much. Too much to cut Cody off, to speak even one word. Too much to listen. Just… too much. It was all he could do before the tears which had stopped falling a while ago returned to his eyes, hot and biting, burning although he felt like he had no tears left to shed. But the wetness on his cheeks proved otherwise.

A grown man should be stronger, shouldn't be crying so much. But maybe he wasn't a grown man right now but simply Randy, alone, hurt, disappointed and scared, staring at the ruins of a life that had been supposed to be spent with the most important person in his life. And that person… was gone.

Again his cell started ringing and again it was Cody. Wiping the wetness from his cheeks he turned it off and threw it in his bag. Bracing his elbows on his knees again he cradled his head in his hands and stared at the floor, eyes fixed on an invisible point on there. A dull pounding in his head made itself known, a pressure behind his eyes and there was a faint buzzing in his ears, it all getting more noticeable with every minute he kept crying.

How could it be that he felt numb, yet hurt beyond words? Why couldn't he simply wake up to a world where all was fine? That world existed, he knew it because for years he'd been living in it… and he wanted to go back there…

"John…" he breathed tearstained. "Johnny…"

I love you.

With every beat his heart whispered those words, making them flow throughout his body. A shuddering sigh slipped past Randy's lips, a sigh that was almost a tiny laughter. He wasn't a bad person for being in love, was he? Even if loved a man? His best friend? How could love be a bad thing? It wasn't his fault that his heart had chosen John. If anything his only fault had been not to simply tell him the truth.

A truth that was still hidden in his heart.

Randy blinked, his gaze following a few tears which fell to the floor, painting crystalline stains of sorrow there. Three words, so warm and precious, yet so painful to feel and so goddamn hard to say to the one.

"I love you…" he whispered, the words trickling away into the nothing surrounding him.

More tears fell while Randy remained sitting there like a still-life, clinging to the whispering of his aching heart.

Long minutes passed. Half an hour? An hour? It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore. Only when the door opened he flinched, listening to the man standing in the doorway without looking up, nodding faintly as he was told to go now please. For a moment he wasn't sure if his legs would do their job as he got up, but they did, a bit unsteady though, as he made his way to the car on autopilot.

It was a formless heap of worn fabric on the driver's seat that, as he wanted to climb into his car, made him freeze. John's old sweater. Randy had taken it with him today because touching it gave him a soothing feeling of safety and comfort. Otherwise he wouldn't have found the guts to go in there and do his job. Hesitantly he reached out, burying his fingers in it.

And something inside his chest slipped, dropped… and broke with a high-pitched little sound, ringing through him…

Not even ten minutes later he stood in the middle of the bar Cody had named him, straightening up to his full height as he scanned the room, his fingers holding on to the sweater in a death-grip. Back at the car… that moment when he'd touched it… it had kicked a desperate determination off.

Their friendship had never been supposed to end like this… to end at all… but it had. Maybe because he hadn't told John the truth and maybe telling him the truth in the first place would have led to the same outcome. But it didn't make a difference anymore what he did and what not. And so he could as well tell John finally that he loved him. He had nothing to lose and everything to gain.

An odd calmness had settled over him on his way to the bar and even odder was the fact that the calmness got even deeper now as his eyes… found John. The noise around him faded into the background. People bumped into him, pushed him out of the way but his eyes stayed fixed on the older man.

John sat at the bar with his underarms braced on the counter, the broad shoulders hunched and tense. He held a root-beer in his hands, absentmindedly fumbling the label. The usually cheerful face was somber, the sparkling blue eyes dimmed.

Not taking his eyes off him for even a second Randy dug his way through the always moving crowd and he watched as a man stepped up to John, stabbing his finger in a tense shoulder and John wiped his hands down his face before grabbing his beer to leave his place at the bar. He was practically walking towards Randy, who tried to think of a good start.

And maybe saying it would be the best thing to do. I love you. It would end the back and forth within three little words.

His feet walked him right into John's path and… the older man stopped short as he realized who was blocking his way. There was a bright spark of angriness in the depths of his eyes as he glared up to Randy.

"Oh wow, today must be world-asshole-day," John growled as he tried to push past him, but a hand on his chest stopped him. "I swear, Orton, if you don't take your hand off me, then I…"

"Then you what?" Randy bit back, daring him to end the sentence.

The older man's nostrils flared. His brows furrowed and those baby blues darkened. But he didn't say it. Randy sighed.

"John, please, give me just one minute to explain it," he said, his voice taking on a soft, urging tone, hoping John would grant him that minute.

But instead of a yes Randy's hand was slapped away.

"I don't care, Orton. Now get the fuck out of my way!"

And just as John wanted to push past him, that guy was stepping into his way, making him groan in undisguised angriness.

"You suck, Cena," the guy slurred as he leaned in, stabbing his finger in John's chest who looked down at the finger and then back up to its owner.

Randy watched as his jaw set and the jaw muscles jumped as he gritted his teeth, his features becoming stony. He knew what that meant. John was about to snap and he was sure that if he only listened close enough, he could hear the older man's nerves sing under the strain of staying calm.

"Yeah, I know. It's what you keep telling me for the last hour over and over again," John ground out, visibly fighting with himself to stay calm… but he lost and his voice rose as he spoke again, giving the man a shove. "So why don't you finally fuck off and tell it someone who gives a flying fuck, you piece of shit?!"

With that he focused back on Randy, gazing at him with eyes cold enough to freeze his poor aching heart.

"John, please…" Randy said hushed and he was begging now, with his words, with his voice… with his eyes.

But his plea found no way into the bubble of headless angriness John was hiding in.

"Keep it to yourself and fuck off, Orton."

Those words carried something much worse now than angriness. It was indifference. And somehow it was like a slap to his face. That and the fact that John refused to listen for even a minute, that he turned his back to him this very second to leave him behind, just like that…

It happened in a split-second. Almost like in a bad movie. From the corner of his eye Randy saw a quick movement… and he took a step forward, right between John and that guy and he was shoved against John's back. There was a curse from behind him and a surprised expression on the guy's face in front of him whose eyes were fixed on Randy's midsection. Narrowing his eyes Randy looked down… and the world around him stopped as he saw a knife sticking out of his belly. Then he felt a numb tug as the guy pulled it out again. A second later blood was soaking his shirt.

The pain came with delay and it exploded in his side, cutting and ripping and burning white hot, both the pain and the surprise robbing him of his breath. There were screams around him. Someone bumped into him. It was the second his knees buckled.

He never hit the floor though.

Arms around his upper body prevented him from falling down and those arms eased him to the floor so very cautiously until he sat leaned against… John. Those arms were John's and it was his voice close to his ear, telling him that he needed to hang on, that it would be alright. Panic and fear were mingling into the pain and his shirt was so goddamn red. It shouldn't be that red…

Faintly he registered that John kept talking to him, words which should have been calming but they were laced with the same panic and fear he felt… And then John pulled the sweater out of his hand, pressing it on the wound to stop the bleeding. He hadn't even realized that he was still holding it.

The noise around him became washy, distant. Closing his eyes Randy rested his head back against John as he began to feel fuzzy and he lifted his hands, holding on to the arm around his chest and the words John was murmuring to him…

x

The doctor was giving him a polite nod as he stepped back and Randy pushed himself into a sitting position, biting back groans of pain. Examination after examination, followed by treatments. Three hours? Maybe even four. And now he was allowed to go. Finally.

John. He wondered if John was waiting for him…

Back at the bar he had held him and in the ambulance he'd held his hand. Only when the doctors had told him that he needed to let go of Randy's hand, that he had to stay in the waiting room, the older man left his side.

And then the nurse opened the door and his eyes caught… John. Sitting there on a chair in the corridor, right in front of this room and the older man's head snapped up that very second, eyes wide. Their gazes locked and the fear in the blue orbs became relief. The doctor beckoned to him to come in and he did, stepping up to Randy.

"You worried me a bit, you know?" the older man murmured and winced as his eyes found the thick wound bandage around Randy's belly.

A hand settled on Randy's leg and gave it a light squeeze, making the younger man's heart jump a bit despite the situation. And just when Randy wanted to tell him how glad he was that he hadn't left, the doctor cut in.

"As I told you already, the knife missed the abdominal cavity and got stuck in the lateral abdominal muscles. But you need to take it easy for the next four weeks. It will hurt and take a while to heal, but it's not all too serious. I want you to come here immediately if there are any bleedings," the medic instructed him and handed him two small bottles. "The antibiotics two a day and the painkillers if necessary. Come every other day for a check-up and a wound bandage changing. Any questions?"

Randy shook his head no, as did John and with a nod the doctor left.

"Thanks for staying," Randy said quietly, hesitantly looking back to John. "I wasn't sure if you would…"

A shadow cast over the blond man's eyes as he seemed to remember that he had broken their friendship off just before this had happened and it made Randy's heart drop. The hand on his leg vanished.

"You can't go home like this," John muttered then, shrugging his jacket off to put it around the younger man's shoulders.

He could see that John was still pissed, yet he was still here… and he wasn't sure how to feel about it. Glad? He should be glad. Then why wasn't he? The nurse excused herself for a moment and left the room, leaving the two man alone, surrounded by tense silence.

"John…"

Randy was stopped as John shook his head no and said, almost snapped: "You could have been killed, you goddamn idiot!"

"Yeah, just like you," Randy replied sighing as he shifted a bit, his legs dangling from the edge of the bed.

John's voice dropped to a whisper as he added: "Don't ever do that again. I thought you'd die on me. You scared the shit out of me..."

A dry chuckle passed Randy's lips.

"So you still care?" he asked as dryly and saw the older man look away.

But there was no answer to his question and he realized that this moment now... it could be the last chance to set the things right... that he had to say it regardless of the outcome. Later wasn't an option anymore. The deep breath he took inflamed his side with a burning pain but that pain distracted him from the one in his heart.

"John, look at me," he demanded softly and his heart began to pound hard against his chest, maybe even hard enough for John hear it, as guarded blues locked with his. His chest clenched and he willed himself not to avert his eyes as he whispered: "I love you."

The words lay heavy in the air between them, waiting to be understood. Long seconds passed and the pounding in his chest stole his breath as he waited for a reaction. A fuzzy feeling spread throughout his body. And then he saw something shift in John's eyes, saw them widen as he grasped the meaning of the words. Shaking his head slightly no he swallowed hard, stepping back. Randy's heart missed a few beats because he knew what would happen next. He could have tried to stop the older man but it would have been a vain attempt.

So he watched as John turned around and… left... and for the second time tonight his world was shattered to pieces.

It wasn't like he hadn't expected a reaction like that. Still it hurt beyond words. All the time there had been an oh so very tiny part of him harboring the hope that John might accept it, understood it… maybe even returned his feelings. There had been moments when he'd seen something in those blue eyes, moments when John had let him come even closer than usual… when he tried to get closer to Randy than a best friend would, should try to… but in the end it had obviously only been imagination. Hanging his head he closed his eyes as tears welled up, pressed his lips tightly together against the sob that crawled up his throat. Faintly he realized that the door was being opened but the steps approaching him weren't John's.

"Sir?"

It was the nurse. He took an unsteady breath before looking up to her and she held a small bag in her hand, handing it over to him.

"Your sweater, but I'm not sure if the blood can be washed out," she explained, a polite smile on her face. "Uhm, there are two gentleman waiting for you in the corridor."

She pointed over to the still open door where Ted and Cody were standing, a very worried expression on both their faces. He was deeply grateful to have friends like them and so he tried a smile. But he failed.

"The doctor said you can go. Shall I call you a taxi?" she asked but Ted cut in.

"We're gonna take him home, thanks," he said as he walked over to Randy, Cody following him like a puppy.

Cautiously slipping from the bed Randy reached out for a hold as dizziness rolled through him.

"You okay?" Ted asked, taking hold of his shoulders to steady him.

"Just a bit dizzy from the painkillers," he murmured weakly.

It was Cody who asked then: "Where's John?"

Randy looked down at the bag in his hand and because he didn't want to explain, he just replied… beaten: "Gone."

From the corner of his eyes he saw the two men exchange a strange glance and it dawned on him that there was no need to explain anything. There was a good chance the two already had an idea what was going on. There were no further questions, only gentle hands steadying him as they made their way to Ted's car. The ride home was quiet and when they arrived at Randy's place, Ted and Cody insisted on staying for the night, just to make sure he would be okay. But all he wanted was to be alone right now and so he sent them away, promising to call the next morning. The two men left, very reluctantly though.

And when Randy crawled into his bed he found no sleep, only more pain because it reminded him of every single time John had slept there, too. Trying to escape those memories he fled to the couch, hiding there under the thick comforter… waiting for a dreamless sleep to save him. He wanted to get away from here, from what had happened. From everything. The ache in his heart, the hollow, lost feeling that threatened to devour him.

John had left him. He was gone… He still couldn't believe that John wouldn't be a part of his life anymore… A small, wailing sound dropped from Randy's lips as he screwed his eyes shut against it all.

It didn't take long until exhaustion pulled him down, pain, desperation and sorrow accompanying him into an unconscious-like sleep…

x

For the last four days he'd practically been on autopilot. A numb routine, day after day. Sleeping a lot, eating a little albeit he wasn't hungry and lacked of appetite. He took his meds like a good boy and apart from that he did nothing but sitting around, watching TV, reading a book. Or thinking. Sometimes he tried so hard not to think of anything and failed so poorly that it almost hurt bodily. And no matter where the books and the TV wanted to take him to… his head and his heart orbited around one single word. Just like right now…

John.

Closing the front door behind him Randy threw his keys on the counter, changed into sweatpants and his feel-good sweater. Luckily he'd been able to wash the blood out of the fabric, because the idea of throwing it away gave him a… stab. The police had caught the guy only a couple of blocks from the bar and in a few days Randy would have to give evidence. His attorneys would see to the rest. He'd just been to the hospital for a checkup and the bad feeling hospitals always gave him was still brewing in his guts. It was a good company for all those other bad feelings which had taken up residence there ever since…

Whatever.

With a sigh Randy shuffled over to the couch and settled cautiously on his unharmed side, slipping a bit deeper into the sweater. He couldn't sleep in his bed. He'd tried it after coming home four days ago, but in his bed there was no sleep to find, only more memories of John and so he chose the couch. Blinking slowly, Randy let his eyes sweep aimlessly around. It was already getting dark outside and in a few minutes the darkness would creep into the room, sprawling over it like a gloomy blanket. It matched Randy's mood perfectly.

He had lost everything. His best friend. The one he loved.

He was fucking terrified about the future because John had been such a big part of his life for such a long time that at some point this man had begun to define his life. Randy was sad? John was there. He was happy? John was there. He needed help? John was there. No matter what… John had always been there. And it had been the same the other way around. He'd lost that, too. No more being important to John… Gods, how would the day be when he would be back at the company, when he had to face John? How should he get through this?

This was the purest irony of life. For once Randy had found someone who stuck to him despite him being him and after so many years that had been more, closer than just a simple good friendship, he had to go and fall for John and because Randy was Randy, he found a way to shatter what was supposed to be bulletproof. And John? John would live happily ever after with a girl that was all but a clone of himself after he practically drove him into her arms.

Closing his eyes he settled an arm over his face and hid away from the world. There was that goddamn burning in his eyes again, but the tears had stopped long ago. After crying enough for two lifetimes there were simply no more tears left.

Quiet minutes… and then the meds did their magic, the combination of painkillers and antibiotics kicking a heavy sleepiness off and he felt a faint pulling, tugging at his consciousness. He didn't fight it. Sleep was peace and a refuge of good memories and so he let go…

x

Somewhere in that peaceful place full of blissful nothing consciousness stirred as dimmed sounds invaded his shelter like a soft breeze. And then Randy was floating in the twilight between being asleep and being awake, the process of waking up feeling like an endless drifting back and forth… up and down… But eventually being awake overweight and he felt a wave of reality run through him, clearing his sleepy mind, bringing memories with. His visit at the hospital, hiding in his feel-good sweater, quiescence that had filled the room…

And now? The dimmed sounds? It almost sounded like the TV was running… But he hadn't even switched it on? And there was something else… he was wrapped up in the thick comforter. When had he pulled the comforter…?

Confused he opened his eyes a crack and his heart stopped for a painful moment because right there, not even half a meter away from him… sat John. And suddenly he was wide awake, eyes big as he stared at the back of the older man's head. John sat in front of the couch with his back towards Randy, staring at the TV. He could have noticed the change in Randy's breathing or the tiny sound as his breath caught in his throat, but either he had and chose to not show a reaction or he really was oblivious to Randy being awake.

For a moment Randy closed his eyes again, praying that this wasn't a dream. But it had to. No way that John was really here. His mind was playing tricks on him because he wished so very much that John would forgive him… And in the chaos of bad feelings and shaken emotions which threatened to smother him since that day at John's house, it was the one untouchable thing that had been waiting to rise again at last. It was love and it calmed the turmoil and told him to believe, to hope.

Randy stared a little longer, almost not daring to move or breathe, too afraid that this was just a vivid offspring of his desperate wishing, hoping. But eventually the urge to touch John, feel that he was really sitting there became overwhelming and so very hesitantly he reached out, settling a hand on a broad shoulder… and it was real. This was real, John was real and he didn't tense, nor did he try to avoid the touch. His only reaction was to turn his face ever so slightly towards the hand on his shoulder. For a long moment the only sounds to be heard were the ones coming from the running TV.

"Four days, John," Randy said and he wanted it to sound accusing, wanted to be angry at the man sitting there, but just like the minutes, hours… days before he couldn't and all that was lacing into his voice was… relief.

The older man's shoulders slumped a tad and his head dipped a wee bit forward as he replied hushed: "You want me to go?"

Briefly Randy's fingers dug into the thick muscle hard enough to be painful, before they splayed, his thumb soothing back and forth.

"Don't you dare leave me again, Cena, don't you fucking dare…" Randy whispered then, nothing but undisguised desperation clinging to his words. "But why now? Why at all?"

Why, after all that had happened, after what had been said and done… why suddenly? Why are you here? John understood and Randy saw it, because there was a slight nodding and a sigh. A… guilty one?

Randy wished John would turn around, because he wanted to see his friend's eyes. Eyes in which he'd always been able to read, eyes which had always spoken to him. Eyes that had always been a door to the older man's soul and heart. But John didn't and Randy didn't want to push him if he wasn't ready for it. Instead John reached up to the hand on his shoulder, gently pulling it down over his chest, until it rested right on the spot over his heart. It made Randy's poor heart lurch and jump happily.

And while he held it there he said weakly: "Because I can't be without my best friend."

Relief. Gratefulness. He wanted to pull him into his arms, hold him, hold on to him and never let go again. Best friend. He clung to those words and wouldn't ask for more because it was more than he would have hoped for.

"No John without Randy?"

The words were a mere whisper as they passed Randy's lips.

"Yeah… no John without Randy," John replied in that low and tender rumble Randy loved so much.

In the following quietness Randy tried to come up with apologizing words. After all he hadn't been honest with John, keeping the truth from him for more than a year and then he had done everything to obviate any serious relationship with girls John was interested in, only to shock him with the truth at last.

"John I... I know hearing that your best friend is in love with you wasn't very pleasant and… I really thought that I have scared you away for good," he began slowly, gnawing on his lip. "I'm sorry. I'm so damn sorry for everything..."

But John was only shaking his head softly no.

"Things are... were... complicate and we both made mistakes, so don't be sorry," the blond sighed. Then, with a gentle but self-conscious little sound that was close to laughing: "God knows you couldn't scare me away even if your skin turned green and you'd grow a second head and antennae and told me you wanna make alien babies with me."

It made Randy smile a bit, but the smile faded as fast as it came as a question made itself known.

"But then… why did you…"

John shook his head curtly, cutting him off.

"What scared me was… what I felt... feel... ah, shit...," he breathed and just when Randy wanted to speak again, the older man cut him off again. "Cassi is gone."

John's statement was tinged with a not very much amused kind of laughter, mingling into his voice. And because Randy couldn't find words of comfort he really meant, he settled for a neutral and safe choice of words.

"I'm sorry, John."

A puffed little chuckle.

"No, you're not."

A second of caught silence. The hold on Randy's hand tightened.

Then Randy admitted: "Yeah, you're right… I'm not sorry that she's gone. Yet I'm sorry that you're alone again. Because of me."

"It wasn't because of you. The two of you are really much alike," the blond man huffed. "The moment you told her she can't have me, it made her only want me more. Just like you when someone tells you to keep your fingers off something. No, it wasn't because of you. It was my decision to break off with her."

John turned his head a bit around, just enough for Randy to catch a glimpse on his face and between the patterns of light and dark the running TV painted on the pale skin he found a slight detached expression there and awareness, bitter and heavy.

"But you said you love her?" Randy wondered, absentmindedly splaying his fingers on John's chest to feel as much of him as possible.

And under his touch he felt John's heartbeat, strong, steady, yet also a little faster than it should be and it was vividly telling Randy that the man he loved was really here.

Reassurance.

"No, I said that I love her… maybe. But I don't. I loved what I saw in her, what I wanted her to be," John said very quietly, self-reproach dripping off his words. "All the time I thought that if I only found a girl who is like you, that it would be the perfect match because you are the perfect match for me. You have always been. Only… that you're a guy. And then there she is, reminding me of you in every possible way but… in the end she's only an imperfect copy of what I really want."

Overwhelmed by the situation and John's words he could only stare. And hope. His heart wanted to jump happily in his chest but he willed it to wait because there was a chance that John didn't mean them the way Randy understood them. Or wanted to understand them. And then, slowly, gingerly John turned around to Randy, facing him with the most vulnerable expression he'd ever seen on the older man's face. There was uncertainty, confusion in those cerulean orbs, fear even. Randy's hand slipped from John's shoulder as he moved, finding a hand that was settled on the cushion and taking a tender hold of it he closed his fingers around John's.

"Listen, I… fuck, I don't have a fucking idea how to begin…" John whispered, averting his eyes. "All this wasn't… isn't easy for me to… accept. Not because you love me but because…" He stopped mid-sentence, tilting his head back with a helpless sigh before he took a deep breath and locked his eyes with Randy's again and there was something. "Huh… I spent the last days trying to accept that I… I love you, Randy. And the funny thing is, back at the hospital... the second I realized it, there wasn't a maybe. I love you and it scares the shit out of me because first my life is perfect, then we fight and then I think that you might die on me and then… I realize that I love you and probably have for a while without seeing it. And for the first time in my life I don't know what to do…"

The world stilled, his mind, his heart… his whole being narrowing on John as the words sunk in. A breath he hadn't even noticed being stuck in his throat escaped his lips and briefly he closed his eyes as he tried to comprehend what was just happening. This time he didn't tell his heart to be quiet as it began to run and jump in his chest, carried by utter relief and happiness and love.

John loved him.

Hesitantly, almost shy, he lifted his free hand to John's face, cupping his cheek and almost as if he had waited for Randy to do it, wished that he would, he closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. And Randy's heart cried out in joy.

He tugged at the older man's hand, urging him to open his eyes again and he did, being greeted by a tender smile on Randy's lips.

"If you really love me, then it shouldn't be that hard."

"I do love you, Ran. I really do. But I… I'm lost here…" John said so very quietly, trailing off and it left a barely audible help me between the lines.

"No, you're not. I am here…" Randy whispered and there was a glint in those baby blues, nourishing the small flicker of hope in his heart, yet there was still a shadow of doubt lingering in John's eyes, too. "I don't know what will happen but what I do know is… that I want to be with you. I love you, Johnny. It's gonna be tough sometimes but I know we can make it work. It's worth it. We are worth it."

"It is really that easy?" John murmured in wonder, more to himself than to Randy.

Again the older man closed his eyes for a second and when they opened again the doubt was gone, replaced by amazement. And for the first time Randy saw it there… undisguised love. It stole his breath and he wanted to kiss John... but he didn't dare to move. He wanted to leave it to John to set the pace, no matter how much it would kill him to wait.

It was a slight embarrassment which crossed John's face suddenly and then Randy felt him slip out of his hands as he got up, only to sit down beside him, eyes fixed on the younger man's midsection. His eyes were followed by his hands and very cautiously he lifted the sweater a bit, taking in the thick bandage wrapped around Randy's belly.

"Does it hurt badly?" he murmured absentmindedly, allowing tender fingers to trace over it.

"Not when I'm careful," Randy replied quietly, trying to push the urge to kiss John aside.

Slipping his hands under the sweater, splaying his fingers over warm skin and the bandage, John bowed his head with a shuddering sigh.

"All the blood… I… I was so afraid that you… could die…" he whispered on the verge of crying.

"Johnny… hey, come on, don't go there." With that Randy reached out and buried his fingers in John's shirt, giving him a soft shake. "I'm here and you are here and it's gonna be alright, okay? We're gonna be alright."

A tiny nod.

And yeah, he was willed to go the pace John set, but maybe… maybe John needed a tiny… push?

"And, you know… I told you that I love you and you just told me that you love me too…" he purred, tugging the older man closer. "This would be the right moment for… a kiss…?"

He kept tugging him closer and closer as he spoke and John followed, hesitantly though as if a wrong step on this new territory could destroy everything. Only when John finally settled down beside him, propped up on an elbow, Randy's fingers unfurled, smoothing over the shirt and the muscles underneath he'd longed to touch all the time. His arm wrapped around the older man's waist to pull him in and molding their bodies together, like he'd done in uncountable dreams before, he marveled at how perfectly they fit. The pain in his side faded as John's warmth enwrapped him, as his scent invaded his nostrils… it made him feel warm and fuzzy, perfectly contented with just being allowed to be as close like this to the one he loved.

Randy sighed as he searched John's face for a sign of unease but instead the amazement was back, the love sparkling in the baby blues. John was far from feeling uncomfortable as it seemed. Randy's name was a sigh on his lips as he suddenly leaned down, placing a simple and innocent little kiss on the younger man's lips and a second, brushing his lips along Randy's.

Randy felt a shy lick on his bottom lip that made him smile into the kiss, though it could barely be called that. John was testing this new territory again and his shyness was… indescribably cute. His heart settled for an utterly happy bouncing, pumping endorphins throughout his body and the feeling it caused was like floating. In the pure need to feel more he pressed closer to the broad frame. This was just too good…

A sudden nip on his bottom lip drew a gasp from him that was swallowed as John's lips sealed his in a firm kiss. Tongues met in a duel for dominance but then a strong hand came up to cradle Randy's head, to keep him close and John angled his head further to practically devour his mouth, all soft brushes and hard strokes… and Randy surrendered. A pleased hum was the older man's answer, its rumbling vibrating through Randy. Goosebumps… running in waves all over his body…

The kiss changed, becoming slow, thorough and deep, lips unsealing only to allow them both to take much needed pulls of air. It was a gentle kiss, yet demanding and so infinitely tender and loving that it brought tears to Randy's eyes and he was clinging to the man in his arms because if not… he would have gotten lost in this moment, this kiss… in John…

They floated in their own little bubble of happiness. Long kisses… exploring, caressing and loving touches… words of deepest affection being whispered so very softly… just being close. For minutes? Hours…

It was all this, all this… that accompanied Randy as he eventually drifted off and it were John's words which carried him. A whisper in a peaceful darkness…

I love you.

x

The next day came on silent paws and it was a purr of golden memories that called him out of the velvet blackness of a restful sleep. It had been the first restful sleep since… weeks? Months maybe… Refusing to wake up fully Randy dwelled a little longer in the twilight of almost-being-awake-but-not-yet, recalling the last night and the utterly goofy grin it caused was safely hidden by the blanket. With a most contented sigh he turned his face into the pillow.

Pillow.

Wait, there was no pillow on the couch. Blinking the last bit of sleepiness away he realized that he was in his bed. And several things happened very quickly.

First his heart dropped because, fuck, they had been on the couch so why was he in his bed now?! Had this only been… a dream? His heart dropped even more as he realized that not only was he in his bed, he was alone in his bed. He sat up too fast, causing his sore side to explode in pain and he moaned pitifully. In an attempt to breathe the pain away he hunched forward. After long seconds the pain faded and his mind registered something. Sounds, coming from downstairs. Sounds…

John.

His heart crawled back up to the place where it belonged and settled for a happy jumping that immediately changed to anxious stumbling as another question tugged at his attention. Why wasn't John here with him? What if John had changed his mind and now regretted his words?

I love you.

But why would John say those words if he wasn't sure about it? No. No, why would he still be here if he had changed his mind? Fuck, no, John hadn't changed his mind.

It was what his head said. Then why didn't his heart believe it?

Cautiously he climbed out of his nest and padded to the bathroom, listening to the sounds on his way. There was muted music and the typical sound of dishes. And a hum. John was humming to the music. Gods, how he loved that voice…

Leaving the door to the bathroom open he kept listening, taking every tiny sound as a sign that he wasn't alone anymore. Slowly he made his way down and suddenly the doubts were back, bringing a ridiculous nervousness with. What if John had changed his mind and told him now that, yes, they were still best buddies but no, he didn't want them to be more than just that? What if John told him that he didn't want or couldn't risk them, because it could ruin both their lives? Clenching his fists in growing nervousness he reached the bottom of the stairs and walked even slower over to the kitchen. What if John was disgusted because he'd woken up to a hard-on pressing into his thigh or…

Randy stepped into the kitchen and… froze as his eyes found John, wearing only sweat pants. No shirt. Muscles moving tantalizing under smooth, pale skin. His eyes travelled up, taking in a blank face, locking with blue ones. And his heart plummeted to his belly. To the nervousness added slight fear. He swallowed hard as an unpleasant queasy feeling ran down his spine.

In a fit of panic he began to stammer: "I, uhm… I… you… we…"

Sighing he hung his head and closed his eyes. He could almost smell his own uncertainty. Why couldn't he still be there on the couch, completely wrapped up in John's presence, when everything had been good? It had been perfect, it…

"Randy…"

The low voice so suddenly right there in front of him made him flinch but he couldn't open his eyes and look at John. Persistent doubts kept nagging at him. But it was the touch of gentle hands on his face, the soft brushing of thumbs over his cheeks which gave him the strength to open his eyes and it was the whispered eyes on me that made him look up eventually.

And there was no disgust, no rejection. What he found there was purest fondness and a tender little smile, the cerulean orbs glowing with love.

"Randy…" John said hushed, asking almost and although his smile was fading a bit, the tenderness still played on those addictive lips.

Hesitantly Randy settled his hands on the older man's waist, feeling the inviting warmth and the softness of the skin under his touch and in response John stepped closer until he stood pressed up against him. And god, it felt so good, so perfect. So right.

"Johnny, I… huh, when I woke up in my bed and you weren't there… I really thought that it was only a dream or that you might… have changed your mind," Randy replied somewhat shakily, unsuccessfully trying to laugh it off.

Placing a tiny kiss on the corner of the younger man's mouth John murmured: "I thought sleeping in the bed instead of the couch would be better for you, so I carried you to your room. And you were fast asleep when I woke up and I didn't want to wake you. You needed rest." Another small kiss to the other corner of now slightly smiling lips. "No need to worry, Ran, everything's alright. I didn't change my mind and I'm not gonna go anywhere. I'm right where I want to be."

Relief. And with a silent sigh Randy wrapped his arms around the broad back to pull him even closer if possible, while resting his forehead against the older man's.

"I love you, Johnny," he breathed. "I love you so much…"

"And I love you, babe," John whispered against Randy's lips. "Welcome to our life."

With that he claimed Randy's lips in a kiss that swept all doubts away. It was a spine-tingling kiss full of promises, a kiss that freed all kinds of good feelings. It made his head spin because it tasted like the words which would be his and his alone from now on…

You are the one. I love you.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

So, this was the last part. Yeah, I know, no bed scene but I hope you liked it nevertheless.

Thanks for spending your precious time on reading it (because I know how precious time can be ;-)!

Let me know what you think!

Kisses and hugs to all of my beloved readers!