FIC: Eclipse (Centon; Rated R; 3/?)
Disclaimers: Usual disclaimers apply.
Title: Eclipse
Pairing: Centon (main)
Story Rating: R
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Summary: When trust becomes an issue, things can go horribly wrong.
Author's Notes: You guys are all reacting the way I want you to, and it's AMAZING. Thank you for ALL of it. NOTE: There's a tiny little cameo in here that will make at least 4 of my good friends laugh. Not everyone will get or find it, but that's okay.
X-posted to: cenaortonmylove, marcianafics and lady_tavington
Previous:
1. Just Tonight
2. The Morning After
======================================================================
Eclipse
a CENTON fic
by MARCIANA (lady_tavington)
Chapter 3
Dinner At Last
Randy hastily covers John’s eyes as they walk past the maitre’d, and John’s steps slow instinctively.
“Randal, what the hell?” John asks, and Randy chuckles at him.
“Don’t peek, okay?” Randy answers, “It’s a surprise, I know how you like those.”
“Yeah, but not in front of 50 strangers in a swanky restaurant, damn you,” John replies, but he can’t help laughing himself, “Randy, I am a 250lb.-meathead with my eyes shut. I am going to trip over something, fall and die.”
“No, you’re not,” Randy says, “I’ve got you, just trust me, you big baby.”
“How much further?” John asks, feeling more and more wary by the nanosecond.
“We’re here, actually,” Randy says, removing his hand from in front of John’s eyes.
“SURPRISE!” yells about 6 or 7 of their friends, all seated at a long table and causing a few heads to turn their way.
“I couldn’t keep them away,” Randy says with a small shrug, only slightly apologetic.
“Dinner with friends! That’s so sweet,” John says as he hugs Randy, quietly adding into Randy’s ear, “I’ll fucking kill you later.”
Randy just laughs him off as John lets him go and takes a seat. Randy sits across from him, and John can’t help surveying the rest of the table. Wade Barrett, Sheamus, Zack Ryder, CM Punk, Ted...Cody is noticeably absent. There’s an empty seat beside Ted, though, so John can’t let himself get his hopes up.
“Are we expecting anyone else?” John asks Randy, indicating the empty spot.
“Oh yeah,” Randy replies as he settles himself in his chair, “Just one more guy. I invited him coz he said he didn’t have anything much to do tonight, so I thought he should come along.”
A waitress comes up to them then, her cleavage just visible over the top of her blouse.
“Drinks?” she asks them, and Randy is the first to speak up.
“What do you like to drink?” he asks, all smooth silk and sexy smiles, and the waitress blushes visibly. John watches Randy over the top of his menu.
“Me?” asks the waitress, obviously trying to suppress a giggle.
“Yeah,” Randy replies, unstoppably attractive, “What’s your name?”
“Deja,” the waitress answers, clearly finding it harder and harder to stay professional.
“That’s a really pretty name,” Randy compliments, “Well, Deja, what do you like to drink?”
“I like the Maybach Vineyard,” the girl replies, really flirting back now, “It’s a red wine. It’s got a very intense, pure and deep taste.”
“Well, I guess I better have one of those then,” Randy answers, not bothering to dial the sexy down one bit.
“Good choice,” says the waitress, turning her attention now to John, “And you, sir?”
“I’ll have the same,” John answers rather coldly, “Where’s the men’s room?”
“Right over there,” the girl points out, directing him to a spot further inside the restaurant.
John gets up without so much as a word to anyone else and heads that way as the waitress continues around the rest of the table.
A jerk. That’s what Randy fucking Orton is. A full-on jerk. First, he invites their friends to what SHOULD have been their night alone together before they have to really go their separate ways because of the draft. And then he blatantly - BLATANTLY - flirts with the waitress. In front of their friends. Friends who know. Friends who do like to talk amongst themselves about trivial gossip that has nothing to do with them. Friends who can probably tell he’d like nothing more than to ditch them all here, grab Randy, and show him exactly how he’d really like to (belatedly) celebrate his birthday in the confines of the hotel room.
Could this be the longest night of my life. Full stop.
As John splashes water onto his face in attempt to calm himself down, someone exits the stall behind him, and takes the sink beside him.
“Justin Gabriel?” says John, surprised to see him, “What’re you doing here?”
“Oh hey, John,” Justin greets back, accent soft, voice lilting, “I’m supposed to be at your dinner party, but I got a little held up on the way here.”
“It’s okay, we haven’t really started,” John replies as Justin washes his hands. John is slightly intrigued by how delicate Justin’s hands seem...
“Could you hand me a paper towel?” Justin asks, “It’s right there beside you. I’d get one myself, but I’m lazy as fuck.”
John chuckles slightly, pulling him a sheet of paper towel and handing it to him. As Justin takes it from him, his fingers brush John’s knuckles. The contact is brief, but
John nevertheless feels a slight shift in the air around him. Justin’s expression, however, tells nothing. John hastily draws his hand back, and starts heading for the door.
“Hey, I think you dropped this,” Justin says, stopping him before he can even put a hand on the door. John turns to find him holding out a thin gold chain with a small cross pendant hanging from it.
“Nope,” John replies simply, “That’s not mine.”
The smile that cracks the corner of Justin’s face is slightly conspiratorial. “Take it anyway,” he says, still holding it out to him.
“Why?” John asks, confused.
“Because I want you to have it,” Justin answers, and the smile on his lips is admittedly alluring, if a little scary.
Something is going on here, but John isn’t quite sure what it is, and he’s even less sure he wants to stay to find out. “We gotta get to the guys,” he says, offering
Justin a small smile, as polite as he can manage, and turns away, heading out to rejoin the party.
“We’re playing Spot The Hooker,” says Randy as John sits back down.
“That’s pleasant,” John replies sardonically.
“Well, it’s a nice hotel,” Punk points out, “A lot of horny and wealthy out-of-town businessmen. It’s a sexy situation. They mix in with the normal people.”
“They are normal people, Punk,” Wade points out.
“I’m not sure how normal they are,” Punk says, his nose crinkling slightly.
“You ever been with one?” John asks him, taking a sip of his wine. The waitress was right - it’s damn delicious.
“Who, me?” Punk replies, and a few of them chuckle at the irony in his tone, “It’s not a habit.”
“I’ll bet,” Randy answers, and Punk leans back in his chair, his glass of soda in his hand.
“I liked paying,” he says with a small, nonchalant shrug.
“Spare me,” John answers, but Punk shakes his head.
“You want a little dusting and cleaning with no emotional repercussions?” he shoots back, “You want to avoid rejected women AND men coming after you? You pay for it.”
Justin reappears then, taking his seat beside Ted, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, guys,” he greets them all, “Got held up.”
“About bloody time,” Randy says, “We were about to just have them pack up the left-overs so we could bring them to you or something.”
John is finding it extremely difficult to keep his eyes off of Justin. The way he jerked his head a little to flip his hair away from his face. The creases in the corners of his eyes as he laughs or smiles. The impossible gracefulness with which his hands move. The complexion so similar to Randy’s.
Justin is wearing the gold chain and pendant that he had offered to John. He makes no indication of anything that transpired between them in the men’s room.
~*~*~*~*~
John can’t help watching, transfixed, as Randy undresses, removing his jacket first, then his ring and watch, placing them on the table along with the contents of his pockets. He begins to unbutton his shirt, and John reaches out, intending to help him (to quicken the process?), but Randy turns away, muttering, “It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
John can no longer stop himself.
“Did you find that waitress sexy?” he asks quietly.
“Which one?” Randy replies, a naughty grin on his face.
John raises an eyebrow at him. “The one you were flirting with,” he says pointedly.
Randy just chuckles. “I wasn’t flirting with her,” he says, “I was just being friendly. People are usually so rude to Service People.”
“Yourself included,” John points out, “I know, I know, you just like ‘to make up for it by being nice to everybody.’”
“Exactly,” Randy answers, sitting at the edge of the bed and removing his shoes and socks.
John looks him up and down, coming to a decision.
“Did you run to catch your plane?” John asks Randy, who doesn’t even look up at him.
“What?” is all Randy says in response.
“You said you only missed it by a few minutes,” John points out, “You must’ve run.”
“I don’t know,” Randy says simply.
“Or did you miss your flight on purpose?” asks John, and immediately, Randy is defensive.
“What difference does it make if I missed my flight intentionally or not?” he asks, standing from the bed and crossing his arms.
“Well, because you said it was a mistake,” John reminds him, “And it was supposed to be for my birthday.”
Randy shakes his head, exasperated. “It was neither intentional, nor a mistake,” he says, obviously wondering what’s brought all of this on, “It’s just what happened.”
But John isn’t ready to let it go that easily. “Did you go for a drink?” he asks him, hoping he won’t but knowing he probably will lie.
“No,” says Randy, confirming John’s theory.
“You had a couple of messages,” John tells him, “When I gave you back your phone. Did you see?”
“I didn’t check them,” Randy answers simply, shrugging and turning his back to John as he takes his shirt off.
John opens his mouth to keep trying to prise the truth from him, but at the last minute, decides against it. Maybe they’ll both be better off if he didn’t know. That, or they’ll just be wasting time as he keeps asking questions that Randy will keep answering with lies. So instead, he lets it go, hoping he’ll never have to bring any of this up again. He heads into the shower before Randy can, undressing there, leaving Randy to wait out in the bedroom.
~ TO BE CONTINUED. ~
=======================================================================
Love Lots And God Bless!
~ MARCIANA ~
http://twitter.com/marciana86
Title: Eclipse
Pairing: Centon (main)
Story Rating: R
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Summary: When trust becomes an issue, things can go horribly wrong.
Author's Notes: You guys are all reacting the way I want you to, and it's AMAZING. Thank you for ALL of it. NOTE: There's a tiny little cameo in here that will make at least 4 of my good friends laugh. Not everyone will get or find it, but that's okay.
X-posted to: cenaortonmylove, marcianafics and lady_tavington
Previous:
1. Just Tonight
2. The Morning After
======================================================================
Eclipse
a CENTON fic
by MARCIANA (lady_tavington)
Chapter 3
Dinner At Last
Randy hastily covers John’s eyes as they walk past the maitre’d, and John’s steps slow instinctively.
“Randal, what the hell?” John asks, and Randy chuckles at him.
“Don’t peek, okay?” Randy answers, “It’s a surprise, I know how you like those.”
“Yeah, but not in front of 50 strangers in a swanky restaurant, damn you,” John replies, but he can’t help laughing himself, “Randy, I am a 250lb.-meathead with my eyes shut. I am going to trip over something, fall and die.”
“No, you’re not,” Randy says, “I’ve got you, just trust me, you big baby.”
“How much further?” John asks, feeling more and more wary by the nanosecond.
“We’re here, actually,” Randy says, removing his hand from in front of John’s eyes.
“SURPRISE!” yells about 6 or 7 of their friends, all seated at a long table and causing a few heads to turn their way.
“I couldn’t keep them away,” Randy says with a small shrug, only slightly apologetic.
“Dinner with friends! That’s so sweet,” John says as he hugs Randy, quietly adding into Randy’s ear, “I’ll fucking kill you later.”
Randy just laughs him off as John lets him go and takes a seat. Randy sits across from him, and John can’t help surveying the rest of the table. Wade Barrett, Sheamus, Zack Ryder, CM Punk, Ted...Cody is noticeably absent. There’s an empty seat beside Ted, though, so John can’t let himself get his hopes up.
“Are we expecting anyone else?” John asks Randy, indicating the empty spot.
“Oh yeah,” Randy replies as he settles himself in his chair, “Just one more guy. I invited him coz he said he didn’t have anything much to do tonight, so I thought he should come along.”
A waitress comes up to them then, her cleavage just visible over the top of her blouse.
“Drinks?” she asks them, and Randy is the first to speak up.
“What do you like to drink?” he asks, all smooth silk and sexy smiles, and the waitress blushes visibly. John watches Randy over the top of his menu.
“Me?” asks the waitress, obviously trying to suppress a giggle.
“Yeah,” Randy replies, unstoppably attractive, “What’s your name?”
“Deja,” the waitress answers, clearly finding it harder and harder to stay professional.
“That’s a really pretty name,” Randy compliments, “Well, Deja, what do you like to drink?”
“I like the Maybach Vineyard,” the girl replies, really flirting back now, “It’s a red wine. It’s got a very intense, pure and deep taste.”
“Well, I guess I better have one of those then,” Randy answers, not bothering to dial the sexy down one bit.
“Good choice,” says the waitress, turning her attention now to John, “And you, sir?”
“I’ll have the same,” John answers rather coldly, “Where’s the men’s room?”
“Right over there,” the girl points out, directing him to a spot further inside the restaurant.
John gets up without so much as a word to anyone else and heads that way as the waitress continues around the rest of the table.
A jerk. That’s what Randy fucking Orton is. A full-on jerk. First, he invites their friends to what SHOULD have been their night alone together before they have to really go their separate ways because of the draft. And then he blatantly - BLATANTLY - flirts with the waitress. In front of their friends. Friends who know. Friends who do like to talk amongst themselves about trivial gossip that has nothing to do with them. Friends who can probably tell he’d like nothing more than to ditch them all here, grab Randy, and show him exactly how he’d really like to (belatedly) celebrate his birthday in the confines of the hotel room.
Could this be the longest night of my life. Full stop.
As John splashes water onto his face in attempt to calm himself down, someone exits the stall behind him, and takes the sink beside him.
“Justin Gabriel?” says John, surprised to see him, “What’re you doing here?”
“Oh hey, John,” Justin greets back, accent soft, voice lilting, “I’m supposed to be at your dinner party, but I got a little held up on the way here.”
“It’s okay, we haven’t really started,” John replies as Justin washes his hands. John is slightly intrigued by how delicate Justin’s hands seem...
“Could you hand me a paper towel?” Justin asks, “It’s right there beside you. I’d get one myself, but I’m lazy as fuck.”
John chuckles slightly, pulling him a sheet of paper towel and handing it to him. As Justin takes it from him, his fingers brush John’s knuckles. The contact is brief, but
John nevertheless feels a slight shift in the air around him. Justin’s expression, however, tells nothing. John hastily draws his hand back, and starts heading for the door.
“Hey, I think you dropped this,” Justin says, stopping him before he can even put a hand on the door. John turns to find him holding out a thin gold chain with a small cross pendant hanging from it.
“Nope,” John replies simply, “That’s not mine.”
The smile that cracks the corner of Justin’s face is slightly conspiratorial. “Take it anyway,” he says, still holding it out to him.
“Why?” John asks, confused.
“Because I want you to have it,” Justin answers, and the smile on his lips is admittedly alluring, if a little scary.
Something is going on here, but John isn’t quite sure what it is, and he’s even less sure he wants to stay to find out. “We gotta get to the guys,” he says, offering
Justin a small smile, as polite as he can manage, and turns away, heading out to rejoin the party.
“We’re playing Spot The Hooker,” says Randy as John sits back down.
“That’s pleasant,” John replies sardonically.
“Well, it’s a nice hotel,” Punk points out, “A lot of horny and wealthy out-of-town businessmen. It’s a sexy situation. They mix in with the normal people.”
“They are normal people, Punk,” Wade points out.
“I’m not sure how normal they are,” Punk says, his nose crinkling slightly.
“You ever been with one?” John asks him, taking a sip of his wine. The waitress was right - it’s damn delicious.
“Who, me?” Punk replies, and a few of them chuckle at the irony in his tone, “It’s not a habit.”
“I’ll bet,” Randy answers, and Punk leans back in his chair, his glass of soda in his hand.
“I liked paying,” he says with a small, nonchalant shrug.
“Spare me,” John answers, but Punk shakes his head.
“You want a little dusting and cleaning with no emotional repercussions?” he shoots back, “You want to avoid rejected women AND men coming after you? You pay for it.”
Justin reappears then, taking his seat beside Ted, smiling apologetically. “Sorry, guys,” he greets them all, “Got held up.”
“About bloody time,” Randy says, “We were about to just have them pack up the left-overs so we could bring them to you or something.”
John is finding it extremely difficult to keep his eyes off of Justin. The way he jerked his head a little to flip his hair away from his face. The creases in the corners of his eyes as he laughs or smiles. The impossible gracefulness with which his hands move. The complexion so similar to Randy’s.
Justin is wearing the gold chain and pendant that he had offered to John. He makes no indication of anything that transpired between them in the men’s room.
~*~*~*~*~
John can’t help watching, transfixed, as Randy undresses, removing his jacket first, then his ring and watch, placing them on the table along with the contents of his pockets. He begins to unbutton his shirt, and John reaches out, intending to help him (to quicken the process?), but Randy turns away, muttering, “It’s okay, I’ve got it.”
John can no longer stop himself.
“Did you find that waitress sexy?” he asks quietly.
“Which one?” Randy replies, a naughty grin on his face.
John raises an eyebrow at him. “The one you were flirting with,” he says pointedly.
Randy just chuckles. “I wasn’t flirting with her,” he says, “I was just being friendly. People are usually so rude to Service People.”
“Yourself included,” John points out, “I know, I know, you just like ‘to make up for it by being nice to everybody.’”
“Exactly,” Randy answers, sitting at the edge of the bed and removing his shoes and socks.
John looks him up and down, coming to a decision.
“Did you run to catch your plane?” John asks Randy, who doesn’t even look up at him.
“What?” is all Randy says in response.
“You said you only missed it by a few minutes,” John points out, “You must’ve run.”
“I don’t know,” Randy says simply.
“Or did you miss your flight on purpose?” asks John, and immediately, Randy is defensive.
“What difference does it make if I missed my flight intentionally or not?” he asks, standing from the bed and crossing his arms.
“Well, because you said it was a mistake,” John reminds him, “And it was supposed to be for my birthday.”
Randy shakes his head, exasperated. “It was neither intentional, nor a mistake,” he says, obviously wondering what’s brought all of this on, “It’s just what happened.”
But John isn’t ready to let it go that easily. “Did you go for a drink?” he asks him, hoping he won’t but knowing he probably will lie.
“No,” says Randy, confirming John’s theory.
“You had a couple of messages,” John tells him, “When I gave you back your phone. Did you see?”
“I didn’t check them,” Randy answers simply, shrugging and turning his back to John as he takes his shirt off.
John opens his mouth to keep trying to prise the truth from him, but at the last minute, decides against it. Maybe they’ll both be better off if he didn’t know. That, or they’ll just be wasting time as he keeps asking questions that Randy will keep answering with lies. So instead, he lets it go, hoping he’ll never have to bring any of this up again. He heads into the shower before Randy can, undressing there, leaving Randy to wait out in the bedroom.
~ TO BE CONTINUED. ~
=======================================================================
Love Lots And God Bless!
~ MARCIANA ~
http://twitter.com/marciana86