FIC: Home And Away (Centon one-shot; PG-13)
Disclaimer: Usual disclaimers apply.
Title: Home And Away
Pairing: Centon
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Feels like they've spent more hours on a plane than at home.
Author's Notes: I'm still deciding whether I wanna do a sequel to Eclipse, but in the meantime, I seem to keep coming up with these one-shots. I have a request for happy!Centon from ohh_honeybee's friend to fill, and I don't know that this does it, but it is kinda fluffy.
Dedication: To all my wonderful readers and reviewers, and my beautiful Ficcers' Convention: You are all the Johns to my Randy.
X-Posted to: cenaortonmylove, marcianafics and lady_tavington
=================================================
Home And Away
a CENTON one-shot
by MARCIANA (lady_tavington)
“...Jesus H Christ, John Cena.”
John freezes, flushing slightly. He turns slowly on the spot, in the middle of what Randy can only describe as a bedroom overturned by about 5 hurricanes, and smiles apologetically.
“Randy, I know what it looks like,” John says, putting his hands up, “But---”
“But nothing,” Randy remarks, “What the hell did you let loose in my bedroom, John?”
“A - It’s mine too,” John reminds him, “And B...Well, I guess I let myself loose in here, but you know...”
Randy sighs exasperatedly, and drops his keys on the console table - or whatever little space there is that isn’t covered by John’s things. “All right, what are you looking for?” he says, staring bemused around the room.
“My favourite grey shirt,” John replies, resuming his search in his closet.
“Which one?” Randy snorts, as he starts picking up John’s mess.
“The one I’m always bringing to Australia,” John answers, unaware that Randy is checking out his butt where it’s protruding as he’s bent inside his closet.
“Again, I ask,” Randy says with a slight smirk, “Which one?”
“Randal...” John breathes out, clearly frustrated.
“It’s a valid question,” Randy says with a small shrug.
It is John’s turn to sigh, and sigh he does, and rather heavily that Randy feels where he’s standing about 15 feet away from John. “Randy, I really love that shirt,” John says, turning back inside the closet to search some more, the occasional odd piece of clothing being thrown into the air or onto the floor, “It’s super comfortable, and the color looks great, and it’s so simple but I love it, and I never go to Aus---Oh.”
For Randy had let out a short whistle to catch John’s attention. He had found the exact shirt that John is looking for right at his feet, and is now letting it hang from his finger, holding it up for John to see.
“Oh, however did I find it?” Randy asks teasingly, “You’ve looked everywhere and tossed everything around and oh, my God, I’m such a genius, thank me very much, whatever would you do without me?”
“Shut up,” John laughs, silencing Randy with a small kiss as he takes the shirt from Randy, “Oh, and to answer that last question, I’d probably make a much bigger mess, as I’m wont to do, because you’re Mr Kleen, not me.”
“Fuck you, I’m not that bald,” Randy replies.
“Anymore,” John says in unison with Randy.
“Pack, bitch,” Randy chuckles, flipping John by the shoulders and giving him a sharp slap on the ass, making John jump slightly.
“That’s abuse,” John remarks as Randy bends to clean up, laughing as he does, “I am a battered boyfriend, I’m going to call the police.”
“Only to borrow their handcuffs,” Randy snorts, “Would you just quit yapping and keep packing? Your flight is in 10 hours, and you need sleep, we all know what you’re like when you don’t get enough sleep before a long flight.”
Something in John’s expression changes, and he turns away from Randy and turns his attentions to his open bag to hide it. But it’s too late - Randy’s already noticed.
“What is it?” Randy asks quietly , “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” John says lamely, “It’s nothing, I promise.”
“You promise,” Randy repeats unbelievingly, “John Cena, you know you cannot hide anything from me.”
“It’s not important, okay?” John says, trying to deflect Randy, “Just drop it.”
Randy doesn’t answer, knowing John will come out with it anyway in a few seconds. And in precisely a few seconds, Randy’s patience is rewarded when John lets out a heavy sigh as he folds a shirt and drops it into the bag.
“I hate packing,” John says softly, and Randy stops whatever he’s doing to listen intently, “The travelling I don’t have a problem with, but the packing and the flying...”
“The heights thing?” Randy asks.
“Not the heights thing,” John answers, sighing, head hung as he stares down at the bag on the bed as if it’s all its fault, “It’s just...Packing and flying makes it so real that I have to leave.”
The silence between them is heavy and raw. No one is moving. Randy stays quiet and John keeps going, pouring his heart out.
“I like being home,” John continues in the same tone, “We’re not normal working people with normal working schedules. It’d be nice if we were at least on the same roster, but I don’t even get that now. Being home with you is the only time I feel like...Well...”
“More like yourself?” Randy finishes for him, his insides feeling heavy as lead. He knows exactly what John means, but typical him, he’s never really quite known how to put words to it.
But John takes a deep breath, as if trying to recollect himself. He starts folding clothes again and dropping them rather unceremoniously into his bag. He only stops when he feels Randy’s strong arms engulf him from behind.
“You’re a sap, John Cena,” Randy sighs sweetly, “You know that, right?”
“You made me fall in love with you, bitch,” John answers, chuckling lightly, “This is all your fault.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Randy laughs, kissing John’s nape, “I know, I’m too hot and sexy for you to resist, I know.”
“I’d shoot you if I didn’t think that was true,” John answers.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Randy says, beginning to loosen his grip on John, “Now come on, I’ll help you finish packing.”
But John holds on to him, stopping him from relinquishing his hold around John’s waist. Randy lets him, holding him tighter.
“Maybe we should just stay here, Randy,” John muses softly, “Not show up for work until they fire us...You know, you and me, just stay in bed together, grow old...”
“You don’t mean that,” Randy says, slightly surprised by just how sad John really does seem to be.
“Maybe I do,” John answers, “Maybe I’m sick and tired of coming home just to take a bath and then get on a plane to Nowheres-ville again. It used to be hard just to leave, but now it’s gotten so bad that I don’t even wanna pack anymore.”
He turns in Randy’s arms, facing him now, and Randy chokes back a sad sigh at the paleness of John’s usually bright blue eyes. “One of these days,” John continues, “I’m going to drag you back here, lock all the doors and throw away all the keys so that neither you nor I can get out, and nobody can get in, and it’ll just be the two of us for the rest of our lives.”
“You’ll be so sick of me by the 10th year that you’ll kill me just to feed on me,” Randy laughs. He kisses John’s forehead and holds him to his chest, sighing. “What good did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You were born,” John replies, voice slightly muffled by Randy’s chest, “That’s all.”
Randy lets out a singular chuckle and kisses John’s hair. “You know something?” he says, “I, for one, don’t mind leaving.”
“Am I going to have to banish you to the couch?” John asks in reply.
“No, silly, let me finish,” Randy says, still holding John to him, “I don’t mind the leaving, coz that just makes coming home to you all the more special.”
”Now who’s a sap?” John says, pulling away as Randy lets out a small laugh, but only to meet his lips in a sweet, deep kiss, clinging to him as if trying to weld their bodies together, so that they’d never be apart again. His hands move down Randy’s back slowly until they’re on Randy’s ass, and he pulls him closer, if that’s possible, squeezing at it and sighing into Randy’s mouth.
“Sappiness gives you a boner?” Randy asks as he breaks the kiss, laughing, “Really, John? Really?”
“You were being so sweet,” John pouts, “You’re never this sweet.”
“Yeah, I hear baby oil isn’t exactly made of sugar,” Randy teases, and John sticks his tongue out at him, “Tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.”
John groans dejectedly, letting go of Randy.
“No, no, hear me out,” Randy says, hands on his hips, “I’m gonna go down to the guest room, maybe watch some TV. If you finish packing AND cleaning this mess up in 10 minutes, then we’ll get down to business. Maybe.”
“...So...” John says, squinting his eyes as if considering the condition, “So basically, what you’re saying is that I have to be responsible before I can be irresponsible?”
“It’s not my rule, it’s life’s,” Randy shrugs, and John flips him off, raising an eyebrow, “So what do you say, Cena? Deal?”
Randy extends a hand out, but when John takes it, it’s not to shake it. He lifts Randy’s hand to his face, and then suddenly, teasingly, temptingly, he sucks one of Randy’s fingers into his mouth, sliding it out slowly, watching Randy through seductive eyes. Randy lets out a soft, “Hhhnnnggg.”
“Deal,” John says, winking at Randy, “Now get your flat ass out of here, I’ve got some responsible things to get to.”
Randy smiles to himself as he watches John from the doorway for a few seconds before heading downstairs.
~ THE END...Maybe. ~
====================================================================
Love Lots And God Bless!
~ MARCIANA ~
http://twitter.com/marciana86
Title: Home And Away
Pairing: Centon
Rating: PG-13 for language
Summary: Feels like they've spent more hours on a plane than at home.
Author's Notes: I'm still deciding whether I wanna do a sequel to Eclipse, but in the meantime, I seem to keep coming up with these one-shots. I have a request for happy!Centon from ohh_honeybee's friend to fill, and I don't know that this does it, but it is kinda fluffy.
Dedication: To all my wonderful readers and reviewers, and my beautiful Ficcers' Convention: You are all the Johns to my Randy.
X-Posted to: cenaortonmylove, marcianafics and lady_tavington
=================================================
Home And Away
a CENTON one-shot
by MARCIANA (lady_tavington)
“...Jesus H Christ, John Cena.”
John freezes, flushing slightly. He turns slowly on the spot, in the middle of what Randy can only describe as a bedroom overturned by about 5 hurricanes, and smiles apologetically.
“Randy, I know what it looks like,” John says, putting his hands up, “But---”
“But nothing,” Randy remarks, “What the hell did you let loose in my bedroom, John?”
“A - It’s mine too,” John reminds him, “And B...Well, I guess I let myself loose in here, but you know...”
Randy sighs exasperatedly, and drops his keys on the console table - or whatever little space there is that isn’t covered by John’s things. “All right, what are you looking for?” he says, staring bemused around the room.
“My favourite grey shirt,” John replies, resuming his search in his closet.
“Which one?” Randy snorts, as he starts picking up John’s mess.
“The one I’m always bringing to Australia,” John answers, unaware that Randy is checking out his butt where it’s protruding as he’s bent inside his closet.
“Again, I ask,” Randy says with a slight smirk, “Which one?”
“Randal...” John breathes out, clearly frustrated.
“It’s a valid question,” Randy says with a small shrug.
It is John’s turn to sigh, and sigh he does, and rather heavily that Randy feels where he’s standing about 15 feet away from John. “Randy, I really love that shirt,” John says, turning back inside the closet to search some more, the occasional odd piece of clothing being thrown into the air or onto the floor, “It’s super comfortable, and the color looks great, and it’s so simple but I love it, and I never go to Aus---Oh.”
For Randy had let out a short whistle to catch John’s attention. He had found the exact shirt that John is looking for right at his feet, and is now letting it hang from his finger, holding it up for John to see.
“Oh, however did I find it?” Randy asks teasingly, “You’ve looked everywhere and tossed everything around and oh, my God, I’m such a genius, thank me very much, whatever would you do without me?”
“Shut up,” John laughs, silencing Randy with a small kiss as he takes the shirt from Randy, “Oh, and to answer that last question, I’d probably make a much bigger mess, as I’m wont to do, because you’re Mr Kleen, not me.”
“Fuck you, I’m not that bald,” Randy replies.
“Anymore,” John says in unison with Randy.
“Pack, bitch,” Randy chuckles, flipping John by the shoulders and giving him a sharp slap on the ass, making John jump slightly.
“That’s abuse,” John remarks as Randy bends to clean up, laughing as he does, “I am a battered boyfriend, I’m going to call the police.”
“Only to borrow their handcuffs,” Randy snorts, “Would you just quit yapping and keep packing? Your flight is in 10 hours, and you need sleep, we all know what you’re like when you don’t get enough sleep before a long flight.”
Something in John’s expression changes, and he turns away from Randy and turns his attentions to his open bag to hide it. But it’s too late - Randy’s already noticed.
“What is it?” Randy asks quietly , “What’s up?”
“Nothing,” John says lamely, “It’s nothing, I promise.”
“You promise,” Randy repeats unbelievingly, “John Cena, you know you cannot hide anything from me.”
“It’s not important, okay?” John says, trying to deflect Randy, “Just drop it.”
Randy doesn’t answer, knowing John will come out with it anyway in a few seconds. And in precisely a few seconds, Randy’s patience is rewarded when John lets out a heavy sigh as he folds a shirt and drops it into the bag.
“I hate packing,” John says softly, and Randy stops whatever he’s doing to listen intently, “The travelling I don’t have a problem with, but the packing and the flying...”
“The heights thing?” Randy asks.
“Not the heights thing,” John answers, sighing, head hung as he stares down at the bag on the bed as if it’s all its fault, “It’s just...Packing and flying makes it so real that I have to leave.”
The silence between them is heavy and raw. No one is moving. Randy stays quiet and John keeps going, pouring his heart out.
“I like being home,” John continues in the same tone, “We’re not normal working people with normal working schedules. It’d be nice if we were at least on the same roster, but I don’t even get that now. Being home with you is the only time I feel like...Well...”
“More like yourself?” Randy finishes for him, his insides feeling heavy as lead. He knows exactly what John means, but typical him, he’s never really quite known how to put words to it.
But John takes a deep breath, as if trying to recollect himself. He starts folding clothes again and dropping them rather unceremoniously into his bag. He only stops when he feels Randy’s strong arms engulf him from behind.
“You’re a sap, John Cena,” Randy sighs sweetly, “You know that, right?”
“You made me fall in love with you, bitch,” John answers, chuckling lightly, “This is all your fault.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Randy laughs, kissing John’s nape, “I know, I’m too hot and sexy for you to resist, I know.”
“I’d shoot you if I didn’t think that was true,” John answers.
“Tell me something I don’t know,” Randy says, beginning to loosen his grip on John, “Now come on, I’ll help you finish packing.”
But John holds on to him, stopping him from relinquishing his hold around John’s waist. Randy lets him, holding him tighter.
“Maybe we should just stay here, Randy,” John muses softly, “Not show up for work until they fire us...You know, you and me, just stay in bed together, grow old...”
“You don’t mean that,” Randy says, slightly surprised by just how sad John really does seem to be.
“Maybe I do,” John answers, “Maybe I’m sick and tired of coming home just to take a bath and then get on a plane to Nowheres-ville again. It used to be hard just to leave, but now it’s gotten so bad that I don’t even wanna pack anymore.”
He turns in Randy’s arms, facing him now, and Randy chokes back a sad sigh at the paleness of John’s usually bright blue eyes. “One of these days,” John continues, “I’m going to drag you back here, lock all the doors and throw away all the keys so that neither you nor I can get out, and nobody can get in, and it’ll just be the two of us for the rest of our lives.”
“You’ll be so sick of me by the 10th year that you’ll kill me just to feed on me,” Randy laughs. He kisses John’s forehead and holds him to his chest, sighing. “What good did I ever do to deserve you?”
“You were born,” John replies, voice slightly muffled by Randy’s chest, “That’s all.”
Randy lets out a singular chuckle and kisses John’s hair. “You know something?” he says, “I, for one, don’t mind leaving.”
“Am I going to have to banish you to the couch?” John asks in reply.
“No, silly, let me finish,” Randy says, still holding John to him, “I don’t mind the leaving, coz that just makes coming home to you all the more special.”
”Now who’s a sap?” John says, pulling away as Randy lets out a small laugh, but only to meet his lips in a sweet, deep kiss, clinging to him as if trying to weld their bodies together, so that they’d never be apart again. His hands move down Randy’s back slowly until they’re on Randy’s ass, and he pulls him closer, if that’s possible, squeezing at it and sighing into Randy’s mouth.
“Sappiness gives you a boner?” Randy asks as he breaks the kiss, laughing, “Really, John? Really?”
“You were being so sweet,” John pouts, “You’re never this sweet.”
“Yeah, I hear baby oil isn’t exactly made of sugar,” Randy teases, and John sticks his tongue out at him, “Tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.”
John groans dejectedly, letting go of Randy.
“No, no, hear me out,” Randy says, hands on his hips, “I’m gonna go down to the guest room, maybe watch some TV. If you finish packing AND cleaning this mess up in 10 minutes, then we’ll get down to business. Maybe.”
“...So...” John says, squinting his eyes as if considering the condition, “So basically, what you’re saying is that I have to be responsible before I can be irresponsible?”
“It’s not my rule, it’s life’s,” Randy shrugs, and John flips him off, raising an eyebrow, “So what do you say, Cena? Deal?”
Randy extends a hand out, but when John takes it, it’s not to shake it. He lifts Randy’s hand to his face, and then suddenly, teasingly, temptingly, he sucks one of Randy’s fingers into his mouth, sliding it out slowly, watching Randy through seductive eyes. Randy lets out a soft, “Hhhnnnggg.”
“Deal,” John says, winking at Randy, “Now get your flat ass out of here, I’ve got some responsible things to get to.”
Randy smiles to himself as he watches John from the doorway for a few seconds before heading downstairs.
~ THE END...Maybe. ~
====================================================================
Love Lots And God Bless!
~ MARCIANA ~
http://twitter.com/marciana86