Just a short, fluffy Candy-fic. Idea came to me after Bragging Rights, at about 6:30 am, when I had just closed my eyes to get some sleep. Damn those Candy-bunnies. Invading my brain at the deathliest times.

Summary: Randy's as always a mental wrack before his match at BR and only one person can change this, but he isn't there. Or so he thought.

Pairing: Candy

Warning: Slash, Loads of Fluff

Disclaimer: All mistakes are mine (I wrote this all in one go, don't kill me, please!), as well as my Randy and Cody muses. Every other right belongs to WWE. Again, this is FICTION even though I sometimes wish it would be reality.


He was alone, all alone in his dressing room ever since he had gotten to the arena this afternoon. He had been the first of the big bunch and he was sure he would also be the last one to leave. It had become to a routine for him. Get there before everyone else; leave after everyone is long gone.

He cherished the time all by himself, cherished the silence, the peace, the quiet. He needed it. Before the show, he needed it to think, after the show, he needed it to calm down again. This night would be no different –maybe a little since it's been a PPV- and -while Randy was sitting in his locker, on the solemn bench, head in his hands, trying to block out the loud noises of the crowd- he missed only one thing… Cody.

Ever since their days in Legacy, it had become a habit for them to meet before Randy's match, the younger man the only one allowed to step into the safety of his own four walls, to invade his privacy, his comfort zone. He needed him before a match like others needed their pep talk, their music, their sit-ups. The little one had become an addiction for him.

There was no clock in sight, no watch, the only sign for Randy to leave for his match the cue from one of the stagehands. He could not stand the waiting. Muscles were already tense, his nerves running wild, going berserk on him, the adrenaline rushing to his head. Relaxed was different.

The soft knock on his door made his head snap up, his eyes opening instantly –the concern, the worries clearly visible in them- and he called, whoever had the guts to interrupt his thinking-process, in with a growled "Yeah." The wrinkles on his forehead were evidence enough for everyone who could see him that he clearly had had too much time to think, that his nerves had given up again long ago.

It got even worse, when the door opened and young Cody Rhodes stepped inside. "Codes?" He had not had a scheduled match. Randy had gone through the night's card again and again to see if the young man would make an appearance and he knew he had not. Then, why was he here… and why was he in his ring-outfit?

A shy smile met his surprised stormy-grays, Cody's eyes sparkling blue –like always- as the young brunette stepped into the room. The sweat covering his body, the faint red marks and the ruffled hair giving Randy enough evidence the younger man indeed must have had a match.

"Hey there. Thought you'd need me." For the first time that day, Randy managed a sincere, warm smile, his eyes lightening up for an instant as they locked with his soul mate's baby-blues and he almost forgot the reason why he was so worried.

"You had a match?" The young brunette nodded his head while walking further inside the room –but not before locking the door safely behind him- their eyes never leaving eachothers. "Last minute change." Nonchalantly, as always, Cody shrugged his shoulders as the small smile on his lips grew wider with each step he took, slowly, deliberately, as if he was showing himself off to his former mentor.

"You won?" "Nope… lost." Randy's sly smile turned into a frown the moment those words left his younger friends lips, eyes clouding with something that looked immensely like sorrow, like regret as he looked him over from where Cody stood now: right in front of him, between his toned, tanned thighs.

"Sorry." The first sincere apology that week –to anyone- and the first sincere apology to Cody ever since the draft. It had been left unspoken until now, but the soft shimmer in Cody's blues showed him that he knew exactly what he meant. Leaning down, the young brunette pressed a soft kiss to the wrinkled up forehead, his hands holding the freshly shaven head in place, knowing how much Randy hated those kind of gestures of affection. "Don't be. It's all gonna work out in the end."

He knew instantly that the young man was not only referring to his Title-loss, to his career, but mainly to them.

Sometimes he was surprised about the positive spirit of his former protégé, the "everything-happens-for-a-reason" mentality of the brunette boy. The low, rumbling chuckle leaving his lips was confirmation enough for Cody that he had at least managed to get the tension out of the room. Only with a few words, with his pure presence. Only he could do that for Randy.

"How late is it?" The question had been burning on his lips ever since the young man had stepped inside. He needed to know how much time he had left, THEY had left, knowing damn well that after the show the young man would be gone again. "Three Thirty." "Forty-Five minutes." His match would be soon, the angle he had taped earlier would air in a few minutes if it had not already. Usually he could hear it by the way the crowd reacted, but ever since Cody was in the room, he had blocked out everything else.

Another effect the young one had on him: He made him forget, about everything, everyone. It was always only the two of them.

Watching the young man taking a step back, an almost cocky, smug smirk on his lips, he knew what was about to come next and without any words needed, Randy rose from the bench, stretching his long bones, his tense muscles for a moment while Cody made his way over to the large, black duffel-bag.

He did not need Randy's allowance. He never did. From the moment on, they had started that routine, he had never once asked and never once been scolded about just rummaging through it. It was a silent agreement they had, as always their eyes speaking more than a thousand words.

He caught a quick glimpse of something all too familiar when he leaned down to retrieve the baby-oil, something laying right on top of all the clothes, all the bathroom-articles, the personal stuff in the older mans bag, something that brought a bright smile to his lips –one that could have lightened up the whole room.

It was a picture they had taken about a year ago. They were in Randy's hotelroom, on his couch, Cody leaning against Randy for support after a long night out, the older mans arm safely draped around his waist, Randy's chin resting on top of Cody's head both flashing content and happy smiles to the camera.

He missed those times, and the simple fact that Randy had this picture with him, confirmed him that the older man missed it just as much.

That was the kind of gesture Randy was good at. He did not do words, did not do little kisses or affirming touches, he just left little notes, little hints of affection at places where he knew Cody would look sooner or later. Something Cody had not only gotten used to over those past years, but he also had learned to love.

Getting back up with the found item in hand, he turned around again to meet Randy's sincere, warm blues, the faintest of smiles gracing those smooth, plump lips. Just that one simple smile told him enough and with a few, graceful steps he closed the gap between them to place a chaste, soft kiss to the older mans cheek. It were gestures like this that made words almost un-needed between them.

That strong bond between them had almost cost Randy his best friend a few months ago. One day -practically out of the blue- John had opened up to him, told him that he was jealous of the special relationship he had with Cody and –despite finding the situation more than funny- Randy had explained to him that there was nothing to fear.

It was the truth. The relationship he had with the young brunette was something completely different to what he had to John. The emotions, the feelings, that bond, it was something he would never have with John; he never HOPED to have with John, because it was love. A different love he shared with John, a different one to that he shared with his wife. It was special, sincere, pure.

The coldness of the Baby-oil making him flinch for a split-second but only until he felt those soft, nimble fingers starting caress his neck. This ritual was the only thing they had still left, the only thing that would always hold them together, the one thing they would never let go off. It soothed him; it calmed him. Correction…

Cody calmed him. Like no one else did.

Letting his eyes flutter shut, Randy let go of a content sigh. He could instantly feel his muscles relax, feel his nerves relax, the whirlwind of emotions suddenly coming to a halt. Everything around him was forgotten, no noises, no scents, nothing, as he simply concentrated on the feather light touches of Cody's skilled, gentle fingers.

Cody worshipped the man in front of him, everything about him from head to toe. Asides from his kindness and his warmth, his brains and his temperament, what he adored the most was his body, the smooth skin, those strong muscles… and how it all reacted to his touch.

He loved the way those strong shoulders twitched and tensed under the influence of his fingertips, loved the way his back arched with every single brush of his long, slender fingers, he adored the way goose-bumps formed all over the tanned, bronze-like skin when he let his fingers linger on his lower back for a little longer than wanted.

The effect his simple touch had to the man -to the Greek-like statue- in front of him, made him proud. It made him feel special. Correction…

Randy made him feel special. Like no one else did.

Making sure that every inch of his bare skin was covered in the slick body-oil, he let his fingers roam that muscular body, feeling every single twitch, every tension, every shiver radiating from the older man with a smile of adoration on his lips. This was his doing. He was the one who made Randy's body relax, who made him react, made him melt. Only he.

They did not have an affair or a relationship, in fact they never had. What they had was something different, something far bigger than love, something more important than friendship. It was understanding, mutual respect; things that no one would ever be able to take away from them, to destroy.

Listening to the soft noises coming from the older man, the stifled moans and the content hums, Cody's fingers worked their magic until the man above was completely sheathed in oil, his tanned skin glistening under the far too bright lights of the locker-room. Not even a Greek god could match this image.

The playful pinch of his thigh made Randy's eyes flutter open again, staring down at the young brunette kneeling in front of him, down to his feet and again, no words were needed. Simply reaching his hand out to the young man, caressing the flushed, burning cheek –Cody's head instantly nuzzling into the gentle, warm palm- and his thumb brushing over the prominent cheekbone; it was enough of a "Thank You" for the smaller brunette.

Rising back up to his feet, standing eye-to-eye with Randy, he let his hands once again roam that glorious body, memorizing each and every bone, each bulging muscle, every single twitch, shiver, contortion as they stared into eachothers eyes.

Only the faint voice of the stagehand snapped them both out of their trance again, the yelled "Randy! 5 Minutes!" meaning they would have to let go. Something they had both become used to and something both of them dreaded each time.

Cody's hands came to a halt on Randy's chest, one right above his heart, while the older males hand caressed the soft, ebony-curls on Cody's neck; his other palm resting on the younger mans cheek. They stood like that for another two or three minutes, just staring into eachothers eyes, a silent conversation, a silent agreement going on between them that no one else would ever understand.

The only thing breaking them apart was the knock to Randy's door, the stagehand once again reminding him of the short time he had left.

Closing his eyes for a split second, inhaling sharply, the Missouri-native took in the calm radiating from his partner for one last time, feeling it wash over him, relaxing, soothing, before he looked back down with the most heart-breaking smile a man could manage and placed a sweet, chaste kiss to his boys lips. One that did not mean "Good Bye" but "Till next time" and as he left for his match –Cody leaning in the doorframe, arms crossed over his own sweaty chest, dreamy smile gracing his plump lips as he let his tongue travel over them to taste him, to cherish him- they both knew that what they had would never die.


Gladly excepting reviews now :P