Alright so, right now, somewhere in the world, it is July 9th. And I figure we should celebrate that properly.
Hearing you talk about these two together in a fic made me want to try it; because everyone should be able to read that one pairing they love. You know who you are. Happy Birthday.
Disclaimer: I do NOT own the following wrestlers, or any of the events that actually happened on camera, or anything else mentioned that is recognizable.
I respect the actual beliefs and sexualities of the following wrestlers.
No one could say he wasn't a man of habit.
The same coffee place across the street from his home in Connecticut at the same time each day. He'd walk in, not a hair out of place but moving as if he were barely alive, ordering the same bagel and the same coffee. Most of the young cashiers could recite his order by heart: a toasted bagel with light butter and black coffee mixed with a little whipped cream. He'd bring this order to the same table by the window, where he could stare at his home while letting the breakfast wake him up, before reading the Wall Street Journal.
Shane McMahon liked his routine; it was steady, something that especially helped when he was working the hectic WWE schedule. He sometimes didn't know how he did it; being Executive President of WWE Global Media seemed to stretch him in a million different ways at once, especially when he was asked to make television appearances. He was thankful whenever his appearances were halted, and he could focus completely on the thousand matters that demanded his attention behind the scenes.
Sometimes, people recognized Shane, but very few people came up to talk to him. At this point, he was all but forgotten by the wrestling fans, and, even though part of him would miss the attention he received, he couldn't help but enjoy the peace anonymity afforded him. And since the weight of WWE Global Media was off his shoulders, his mornings were suddenly much more tranquil.
He'd forgotten what peace was like. Sure, he'd miss a lot of what he had in the WWE, but maybe the trade off was worth being able to breath easy and really enjoy his bagel and coffee. At least, he told himself that every time he stared out the window of the cafe, thinking about all he'd left behind.
An opportune time in my career to pursue outside ventures. He'd said that, but nothing yet had panned out to something he'd want to do long time. And then he'd find himself, downtrodden, thinking about everything he had in the WWE. Stability. Status. Reputation. Family. And of course, a certain man with a wide smile who usually made Shane's own smile grow.
It wasn't as if ending his tenure with the WWE meant Shane had to break ties off with that wide smile, but eventually, schedule differences strained what they had to near-nonexistence. A stray call kept to a few minutes, a lone email gone unanswered for days on end... that's what they had denigrated to.
Maybe that's why he was so shocked when that very man suddenly sat at his table one morning. Shane didn't have to ask how John Cena knew he'd be there; everyone who knew him knew about this habit of his. So instead, he asked the next natural question.
"What're you doing here?"
"What, no hello?" John grinned, showing off those sweet dimples of his. Shane couldn't help but smile back at John; same reaction, even after months of not seeing each other.
"Hello John. Now, what're you doing here?"
A small snicker escaped John's mouth. "You don't change, do you Shane?"
"That doesn't answer my question."
"Relax a minute, I will get to that." John leaned forward. "You know, I'm doing fine."
"I'm doing what comes first naturally in a conversation between two people who haven't seen each other," John replied, "Seeing as you've forgotten, it starts with asking the other how they've been doing. I've been fine. Now, I ask you how you've been doing. And you say..." He used his hand to motion Shane to answer.
A blush crept across Shane's cheeks as John spoke, unable to say anything. John was right, of course, but hearing him say it embarrassed Shane a little. "I've been doing great, John."
"Great. Now that we have that out of the way, now you ask what I'm doing here."
"And how would you answer?"
"Well, I'd say that a day off's been a long time coming, and I've been missing you, so I took advantage of my mini-vacation to come see you." One of John's hands went under the table, finding Shane's knee and resting on it. It was comfortable; it almost made Shane forget how long it had been since he saw him.
"I missed you too, John."
"Well, I'm here now." The strong hand squeezed Shane's knee, a small reminder of the amount of affection the younger man had for him. "What're you doing today, Shane? You busy?"
"A little." He saw the disappointment on John's face, so he quickly added, "But I'll be done by three, maybe you can come by the house at four and we can catch up more then?" His face immediately brightened again, making Shane smile. John Cena's grin had that effect on him.
"Perfect. I'll come see you at four. So... how much more time do we have left here?"
Shane sat on his couch, staring at the clock anxiously. It was barely even four and he was already wondering if John wouldn't be able to make it. He didn't realize how much he actually missed John Cena until he saw him earlier; work was almost unbearable, knowing that he was doing that when he could be with John. And they wouldn't have long; between Shane's and John's separate busy schedules, they probably only had this day. And then who knew when they could both possibly stop being busy long enough to be together?
"Relax Shane," he told himself, "Relax..." He couldn't get this worked up. It wasn't like John would suddenly be called away on his day off.
A few moments later, Shane's bell rang, and it took all of his self control just to relax and let Marta get the door. He could imagine Marta's face when she saw John; the maid had a very haughty image of who should and should not be hanging out with someone like Shane McMahon, and John Cena, with his laid back style, definitely did not fit her mold of company for Shane.
Of course, John knew Marta didn't think he belonged in Shane's world, but he didn't care. He'd probably mess around with the poor maid if he didn't think she'd chase him out with her broomstick.
"Hello there Marta." Shane grinned at the sound of his voice, the barely contained amusement apparent.
"Right this way," she said, ignoring the hello, straight to business. Soon, Marta came into the room, John on her heels. "Mr. McMahon, Mr. Cena is here."
"Don't worry about it Marta, I got it from here." He patted her shoulder and walked right over to Shane. Shane stood up and wrapped an arm around the younger man's shoulders.
"Welcome back to my humble abode."
"Thank you. I haven't been here in..." John's smile faded into a sad, reflective look. "I actually can't remember the last time I was here." Shane blinked; he couldn't remember either. Was it really so long ago that he couldn't recall?
A firm slap to the back broke him out of his train of thought. "Ah well, I'm here now!" John's smile was back; it was never gone for long. "Whaddaya say you and me check what's on the television and just relax? I know you had a long day..."
"Sounds perfect, John."
John chose an action film; Shane was glad for it. He could only hope the fast pace and the action would be enough to keep him awake. As he sat next to John, and tried to get into the nonsensical plot, he kept thinking about how much nicer it would be to fall into unconsciousness.
He wanted to focus; he could sleep later, when he had less special company, but he was so tired after work. He was used to naps, to being able to refresh himself. He was used to being alone. He didn't want to be alone, but he was very used to it.
Focus... just focus...
The first thing he became aware of was the feeling of fingers against his scalp, gently running through his hair. The constant motion was relaxing; he could feel himself relaxing against the bigger man. But then he realized he couldn't hear anything. Not a single explosion, punch, scream... what kind of action movie was this?
He opened his eyes, greeted to the sight of a very quiet television set. A program- some game show- was on, but the volume was lowered to the point where the host and the contestants could barely be heard. He looked up at John, wondering how he ended up lying against him... and how long he had been. John was quiet, just relaxing, keeping his attention on the screen.
Shane pulled away from John, getting his attention. "Hey there," he grinned.
"How long was I asleep?"
"I dunno... maybe like three hours?"
"Christ... three hours?" Shane put a hand through his hair, silently cursing himself. Leave it to Shane McMahon to fall asleep the one day he had John with him. "Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You looked tired. I had to let you sleep." John's hand moved to Shane's shoulder, squeezing it. "You still look bad. When's the last time you got to really nap?"
Shane shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I just end up tired again anyway." He stretched his arms out, letting out a yawn. "When do you need to leave for your flight?"
"I can always get on another flight..."
"That soon, huh?"
"I can always get on another flight," John repeated. "Look, I know this probably isn't how you thought today would go... it wasn't how I thought today would go... but we're here, aren't we? Let's make the most of what we have now."
"What do we have time for?"
"Anything! Look at us, we're two capable guys. We can work something out."
Shane shook his head. It wasn't just a night he was talking about, he was talking about their relationship in general. John made it sound so easy. Shane knew it couldn't be that easy, but at the same time, John could be so damn convincing.
"You really think we can?"
"Yeah. We won't be able to see each other all the time, but I figure you'd get tired of my ugly mug eventually." John punched Shane's arm, joking around, but he did mean it... he really did think they could work something out. Even with different schedules, even with how busy they could get, John thought there was a chance.
Shane grinned. He was usually a man who liked routine, but hey. He was too used to working for his peace. A chance was all he needed. "I'll never get tired of your ugly mug." His eyes flew to the clock, waiting until John also looked at it. "So, do you think you can push your flight back enough that you and I can get something to eat?"
"Man, I can push my flight back so that we can eat, drink, and be merry!"
"Perfect. Then we'll do all three."